A/N: I seriously can't believe this! It's time to post the very last chapter for this story. BUT, before getting to that…

THANK YOU, so very much, for your reviews and support! They do mean a lot, you know? (HUGS)

Awkay, because final chapters always have me a bit nervous… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

Epilogue

Time is a strange thing, Dr. John Watson mused as the TARDIS once again hummed to a stop. Even though he'd been traveling through it with his new friends for almost a full year, even if they had the chance to stop by at almost any spot of the history and future, they had no real control over it. Time was always running out, running away, as unpredictable as a river.

And now it was time to go back home.

John turned towards the Doctor and Donna. He gave them both a long look, memorizing. "Thank you, for everything." And he meant it from the bottom of his heart. Because he really needed this. He'd been basically brought back from the dead. He was supposed to die yet here he was, very much alive and breathing. He'd needed to see the universe to find his place in it once more.

The Doctor nodded. Something told him that the Time Lord understood perfectly. "Now go home. Your family is waiting."

John swallowed hard, his hand pausing on the TARDIS' door handle. He couldn't bring himself to look at the other two. "Do you…" He cleared his throat. "Are you sure that there were no… repercussions?" There'd been no paradoxes. No lives had been lost as a price for his. They'd made sure of that, hadn't they?

The Doctor sighed. "You know that it isn't that simple." The time traveler's voice was oddly soft, full of understanding. "Just… You've been given extra years. Maybe even decades. Make the most of them, alright?"

John nodded, his posture and face full of determination. "I will." And it was the second most important promise he'd ever given in his life. Then, with a one last military salute to his new friends, he walked out of the TARDIS.

Only to find Sherlock waiting right outside.

John blinked once, twice. And for some reason he had to hold back the urge to run to his friend and fold him into a hug. "Sherlock? How… could you possibly know…?" How long had he been gone, anyway? How had Sherlock known that he'd be right here, right now?

Was the detective… smiling? Almost. "Take a look around you, John. Surely even you can figure it out."

John did. And instantly a wide smile appeared to his face. Pleasant warmth rushed all the way through him, from his fingertips to the tips of his toes.

They were right outside 221 Baker Street.

Sherlock had to have a lot of questions. Even if it had been only hours, like the Doctor promised, John knew that he'd been changed by the time he'd really been away. Inside and out. But for once the detective refrained from voicing his observations. Instead there was only one question. The important one. "Tea?"

John could feel his eyes twinkling. They were both smiling. "A brilliant idea!" he praised.

Sherlock sniffed. The man was already on his way towards the door, not looking back because the man knew that he'd follow. He always did. "Of course it is. Kindly stop stating the obvious."

Mary, who just lay down for a well deserved nap after winning a two hour battle of wills to convince Willow into falling asleep, sighed happily when the bed dipped. She didn't even open her eyes, instead leaned eagerly against the kiss placed to her forehead. "It's been seven hours. What took you so long?" she murmured. John's familiar scent filled her mind, making her feel warm and comfortable. "Did you at least remember the milk?"

John chuckled. It sounded oddly hoarse. "Yes, I remembered the milk."

Mary frowned and opened her eyes halfway. They widened instantly. "What…?"

John looked absolutely exhausted and there was something… different on his face. Traces of secrets that she couldn't even begin to guess. And he had a stubble. He'd only been gone for a little over seven hours and he had a mighty stubble.

John shook his head. His arms were almost pleading when they wrapped around her. His body was shifted so that he had a clear visual to Willow, who was sleeping in a crib next to their bed. "Not tonight, Mary", he sighed. He looked away, even tensed up a little. "I… made a promise to not talk about some things. And the rest is… a bit complicated."

Mary nodded slowly. They were both happy to lose themselves into a long, hungry kiss. It was like they'd been without for years. "Alright, then", she agreed against his lips. She tightened her hold of him although she wasn't exactly sure why. "Later."

The Doctor took a deep breath, his hand going subconsciously to the scar that he'd carry on his chest for as long as he'd be in this form. It was over, now. It took far longer than he expected and it ended in none of the ways he'd anticipated but it did end. And everybody lived.

Not bad at all.

"Oi, Spaceman." Donna sounded excited. "You promised to show me a place where I can sit back and relax. So, are we going or not?"

The Doctor just had to smile at his friend's enthusiasm. "The TARDIS should be ready in a minute."

Donna walked in just in time to see him putting away something that he hadn't laid his eyes on while John was still traveling with them. He just couldn't bring himself to show it to the former soldier. Instantly her expression turned a little more serious. "It's still the same, then?" she guessed.

He nodded slowly, focusing on the page he'd torn from a newspaper. It was one of the small tricks of fate that led them to this entire chaos. "Still the same", he confirmed. And it felt incredibly chilling to see the name that now had a solid face in his mind.

It was an obituary. But it wasn't that of John Hamish Watson. Instead the name on top was William Sherlock Scott Holmes.

Because as it turned out in a different reality one couldn't exist without the other. The bullet claimed John's life. And Sherlock's. Because the cases weren't enough. On the one year anniversary of John's death Sherlock was found from 221B Baker Street, dead of a drug overdose. According to the text the detective was sitting on John's armchair.

"Do you think we managed to change it?" Donna asked quietly.

The Doctor looked at the obituary for a while. As though expecting it to reveal something ground breaking or horrifying. Or to finally change, perhaps. He then unleashed a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Who knows. Fate is a fickle thing." With a swift, almost eager motion he put the page to a box and locked it. Sealing the secret for what he hoped to be forever. He then breathed in a little more easily and offered her his arm. "So… Shall we?"

Donna grinned and accepted it. Her eyes sparkled. "To Planet Midnight."

Sometimes ignorance is a bliss. Because they walked away just five short minutes before the obituary finally began to change. The heartbroken words. The dates. And most importantly the lost beloved's name.

'Mary Elizabeth Watson'

End.

A/N: That so called ending twist is something I've been planning on from the very start! (chuckles) So, John and Sherlock will both most likely live. But what about Mary? Will her death be a matter of days, weeks, months, years or decades? We can only wonder.

So… The story is officially over. THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for sticking around through all of this! Despite the update gaps and all. It's been a fantastic ride to me and I hope that you've had a good time as well! (HUGS)

It's time to tune out, for now. Once again, thank you! Who knows, maybe we'll cross paths again. Take care!

And now, ALLONS-Y!