Sherlock,

I am truly sorry for any pain I have caused you. You didn't deserve to be lied to for months on end but I hope you understand that I had no choice. I won't try to justify my actions or decisions but I wanted this chance to say good bye. After my mission is complete, I won't be returning to London. Please watch after my father and make sure he doesn't smoke. He's been doing so well and I wouldn't want him to fall off the wagon, so to speak.

I did love you. I still do but I can't handle this anymore. I can't lie to you about who I am and I can't allow my work to harm anybody I love. They didn't burn everything of ours. There's a loose floorboard in my room and there's a box of photos that I had made copies of. You can do what you like with them. Keep them, burn them, leave them there. Whatever you like.

I love you, Sherlock.

Annie Lestrade

Sherlock stared at the page in front of him, clutching the chain of Annie's necklace in his palm. It had been in the envelope when he opened it. Roger was sitting on the floor of the towncar. Sherlock folded the letter carefully and placed it in his pocket, sighing deeply. Mycroft had covered her tracks well, knowing exactly where Sherlock would look to find a clue to look for her. That had been months ago and Sherlock had received word that Annie was coming home. They were waiting at the airport for her to arrive. Mycroft had allowed his brother to meet her alone with her dog.

"Mr. Holmes?" Anthea brought his mind out of his thoughts.

Sherlock stepped out of the towncar, Roger's leash wrapped around his palm tightly. He approached the airplane carefully, staring at the wooden coffin. His throat tightened before he swallowed the lump so he could speak. "Be careful with her."

"Of course, Mr. Holmes."

Roger whimpered and pawed at his pant leg. Sherlock scratched behind his ears absentmindedly before leading the dog back to the car and allowing him to climb in. Annie's body was to be taken to St. Bart's and records faked before Lestrade could see her. Wounds needed to be covered, scars needed to be disguised. Molly was waiting for her body, sitting in the morgue quietly, still not understanding that she would never see her best friend again.

"You didn't have to come in, Molly." Sherlock's voice made her jump.

"Yes, I did." Molly said, her eyes red and swollen. She knew the truth about Annie. "She's my mate."

But when it came time to slice her best friend's chest open and perform the autopsy, Sherlock saw Molly's hand start to shake and fresh tears slid down her face. Seeing Annie pale and unmoving on this table was almost too much for him as well. In a moment of compassion, he made Molly put down the scalpel and pulled her into his chest.

"Why, Sherlock?" Molly sobbed. "Why her?"

"I wish I knew." Sherlock's tone was gentle and he turned so Molly couldn't see Annie's body. He could see her from where he stood and thought he was mistaken when he saw her eyelashes flutter. He dropped his arms from Molly and stepped around her, picking up Annie's wrist in his, checking for a pulse. Sherlock almost gave up when he felt a faint beat, almost a whisper of movement but enough for her to be alive. "Go compose yourself, Molly. She'll be here when you get back."

"Will you be all right?" Molly sniffled. "Being here alone with her?"

"Yes. Go." Sherlock didn't look at Molly, his eyes fixed on Annie's face. When he knew he was alone with her, he ran to the lab and mixed a compound that he had used once before in an experiment. It worked well enough to restart the heart of the alley cat when it was mostly dead. Surely it would perform equally with a human. He collected the serum into a syringe and went back to the morgue, which was still empty to his relief. The serum would have to be injected into her heart for it to work. He clenched his teeth and put his weight behind the needle, making it through her chestplate and into her heart.

A loud gasp let him know that it worked a moment later and he tossed the needle aside as Annie tried to get her bearings. She pulled the sheet up to cover herself, taking in greedy lungfuls of air. "I didn't think you'd be here."

"I'm always here, Annie." Sherlock gathered her into his arms and breathed in her scent, something he didn't think he'd ever smell again. "How did you do it?"

"I'll leave that for you to figure out." Annie teased him gently.

"Welcome home, Annie."

A/N: I'm afraid that's the end of this story. I do hope you all enjoyed it and please feel free to leave a review on your way out. I love all of you who have read/followed/favorited/reviewed. :)