This chapter is bittersweet. This is the last chapter of my most successful story to date, The Interesting Tales of the Holmes Family. I love this story and it's fans so much that it hurts me that I'm really ending this story. I all good things though, like this story, must come to an end. I've had this ending thought out for a while and hopefully it's suitable for this story. I hope you will still keep this story alive, hey maybe one day it will be required reading for every Sherlolly shipper. I sincerely hope you ENJOY.

"Excuse me, but are you Sherlock Holmes" asked a spunky girl. He slowly turned around and looked at her.
"That is my name" he croaked. Her face lit up.
"Oh my gosh, your my idol I'm majoring in criminal profiling and I'm doing my thesis on Moriarty. I've loved you ever since I can remember" she said
"That's nice" Sherlock replied, he just wanted to go home.
"I know that you already know, but I just want to tell you that you mean everything to a lot of people. You've inspired a generation and...thank you" she said. Sherlock nodded his head and hobbled away from that frankly annoying girl. He could hardly walk down the street without someone telling him that he had inspired them to do something. He didn't care, he didn't care about much anymore. They would always say that he was a great person, but he wasn't a great man not even a good one. Then they would apologies that Molly had passed two years ago, why did people see a need to say they where sorry that Molly had died. It isn't like they killed her. Then they would say how much they cried when they heard that John had died, they never asked him if he had recovered. Even if they asked he wouldn't tell them that he'd never move on. It was just easier to leave then to have the same old questions dragged up again. Sherlock dragged him self to the side of the road and lifted his frail arm out I hail a taxi. The taxies zoomed pass him and didn't even acknowledge his existence. He still remembers when he had to hail a taxi for John. Eventually a cab pulled over and he climbed in.
"Where to" the cab driver asked. Sherlock almost told him the address to the Holmes mansion, but something told him that he didn't need to go there.
"221 B Baker Street" he said. The cabbie chuckled and pulled out onto the road.
"You another one of those Sherlock Holmes fans" he asked.
"You could say that" Sherlock replied. As the cab drove through the streets of London, Sherlock passed some spots he remembered. The sidewalk where Sherlock had first told Molly that he loved her. The bench outside a jewelry store where he had propose to her. Angelo's. The music store he had bought his children's violins at. A movie poster for the newest tribute to Phillip Moore, he still hated that douche. The the cab pulled up in front of Speedy's cafe and Sherlock payed his fare. He stepped out of the cab and he went to knock on the front door of his old home. He knock twice and waited for someone to answer. The door swung open and his son Remington opened it. Remington's unruly curls where growing grey just above his ears and his eyes showed the early signs of bags. Sherlock had no right to judge, he had a full head of silver curls and his skin wasn't even near tight.
"Dad, what are you doing here" Remington asked in concern.
"I...I wanted to come home" Sherlock said, and he spoke the truth.
"But this isn't the estate" Remington told him.
"That damn place isn't my home, this is my home" Sherlock said as he stepped into the flat. He looked up and around his favorite place in the world. It looked and smelt like home to him.
"Dad are you ok" Remington asked.
"Can I stay here for the night" Sherlock asked his son. Remington didn't know what had come over his father, but he was going to play along.
"Yeah dad of course" he said. Sherlock looked up the daunting stairs and he remembered when he would run and jump down them to go off and solve a case.
"Here dad I'll help you" Remington said. Remington took his dad's arm and helped Sherlock up the stairs. After a long while they had made it to Sherlock's old living room. It was clean now, Pricilla was a neat freak, but he remembered trying in vain to straighten up the first time a certain army doctor waltzed into his life. Suddenly Pricilla rounded the corner and she stopped in her tracks.
"Sherlock...it's good to see you" she said. She walked over to him and gave him a warm hug. You couldn't guess Pricilla's past if you knew her now, but Sherlock remembered. He remembers that late night call, all the stitches, Remington punching holes in his wall. That was a different Pricilla then the one who was hugging him now.
"Here Sherlock why don't you sit down" she said as she ushered him to a cushy armchair. She sat herself next it him and Remington sat just behind her.
"So what brings you here Sherlock" Pricilla asked. There was only one thing Sherlock could say.
"I wanted to come home" he said. Pricilla smiled and her eyes started to well up with tears.
"That's good" she managed to say. Sherlock looked over it the tv screen and look at the dark screen.
"You know Remington when you where little I stayed home from a case one day and you, me and Wellington deduced cartoons all day" he said.
"That sounds like us" Remington said, he was no better off than Pricilla.
"Molly came home and found us arguing over which hunting season it was on Looney Tunes. You and Wellie insisted it was Duck season, but I knew perfectly well it was Rabbit season" she said shaking his head as his silly sons. Sherlock looked away from the tv and back to the kitchen. There was that counter that once held all sorts of body parts and chemicals. Now it had an apple pie cooling on it. How domestic.
"Did I ever tell you about the time when your mother tried to seduce me in front if John" he asked his son. Remington shook his head. He really didn't want to hear anything about seducing especially when it involved his mother, but he wasn't going to stop his dad.
"She walked into that kitchen with nothing on, but my white shirt and a pair of underwear that didn't cover anything. She swore up and down that she didn't mean anything by it, but I knew better" he remembered. Then the table caught his gaze.
"She told me that we where going to have a baby at that table, she set up three place setting instead of one. She kept dropping hint and I was to dense to figure out what she was talking about. I eventually understood after many hints, and she insisted that she was having a girl...boy wasn't she wrong" he said. Pricilla smiled and Sherlock started to remember things about her too.
"Remember when you first came into this house. You had on that ugly yellow hat and you even had long hair then. You cut it off soon after...damn Anderson...I like you from the moment I met you Pricilla" he said as he looked into those ice blue eyes of his daughter in law. They where red and puffy because she was crying, but they still looked the same as they had years ago.
"Are you tired Sherlock" she asked. She wiped away a falling tear and Remington held her hand waiting for his dad's response.
"I've been tired ever since I was born" Sherlock said.
"Why don't you rest now" she asked.
"I can never rest" he said. Pricilla leaned forward and put her hand on his knee.
"Yes you can Sherlock" she said. Sherlock looked from her hand to her face and back again. Maybe it was time to rest.
"Ok" he said. Pricilla go up and helped Sherlock get up as well. Remington went ahead of them down the hall and Pricilla helped take Sherlock to his old room. Remington appeared with some sleeping clothes and help redress his father. They helped him settle in and just before they left him alone to sleep Pricilla asked him a question.
"Is there something you would like to say Sherlock" she asked him. Sherlock sat up and he flash a smile.
"The game...is on" he said. Then he laid his head down and closed his eyes.
"Goodbye Sherlock" Pricilla said as more tears ran down her face.
"Goodbye Dad" Remington said as he turned out the light. Sherlock felt himself drift into a deeper and deeper sleep. He dreamed about John and Molly, he even dreamed about Mycroft and Lestrade who where both long gone. After a while Sherlock didn't feel so tired anymore he wanted to sit up and walked around. When he tried and felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Sherlock" said a all too familiar voice. Sherlock looked to his right and he saw his best friend, John Watson.
"John" Sherlock said. Sherlock quickly got up and hugged his friend. He never wanted to let go. John looked the same as the day when they first met.
"John...your...your" Sherlock stuttered.
"Dead, well your not doing so hot yourself" John said as he looked down at the bed. Sherlock followed his gaze and he saw himself lying on the bed. His chest wasn't moving and his eyes where shut. He was dead.
"Finally" Sherlock said as he looked at his body. He reached out a hand to touch his body, but it didn't look like his hand. The skin was stretched tight across the bone and his arms where covered in his favorite coat from years ago.
"I'm young again" Sherlock said as he looked himself over again.
"Yeah I know it's great you can endure a storm without your joints hurting" John said. All of a sudden the door opened and the lights where turned on. Sherlock hadn't noticed but it had turned bright outside. Pricilla walked into the room and she went over to Sherlock's body. She saw that he wasn't breathing and she started to shake him to wake him. Then she was sobbing into the bed and calling for Remington. She sunk to the floor and Sherlock rushed to her side.
"Pricilla it's ok. I'm right here, I'm ok" Sherlock yelled at her. Pricilla kept on crying and Remington burst into the room. He took one look at the bed and started to cry as well. He went over to Pricilla and picked her up bridal style and carried her out of the room. Sherlock watched as his family walked away from him.
"John I'm right here why can't they hear me" he asked.
"Your dead Sherlock, only I can hear you" he said. Sherlock shook his head and grabbed his friend.
"Get me the hell out of here" he demanded.
"I've got to take you somewhere first" John said.
"And your not going to like it" he said. Sherlock looked around himself now and the entire scene had changed. He was outside, the birds where chirping, and there where hundreds of people dressed in black.
"This is your funeral" John said. He ushered Sherlock to the front of the crowd where everyone was being hushed. Wellington walked over to a podium and started to speak.
"We are gathered here to day to...mourn the loss of the greatest man the world has ever seen. He was my father, and he was a hero. Sherlock Holmes changed the lives of so many people that it would be foolish to to say he was anything less than these things. He...he sought the truth. He sought the truth and he went and found it. That's all I need to say. He sought the truth, and it set him free. It gave him one of the best friends anyone could have ever had, it gave him a wife who he loved so much and she loved him more than words could say. It gave him children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. My father had a conversation with my brother Livingston just before he went off to Cambridge. Livy talked to dad about how he should spend more time with mom. He said that he should spend more time with her because statistically he was going to die first and leave him alone. My father immediately told him that he was not going to die before her or any of the people he cared about...well he got his wish. Everyone else is dead...and now so is he" Wellington left the stand and went over to hug his brothers. It hurt so much to see his boys, his...babies in such despair. Sherlock looked around and saw a few familiar faces. Thaddeus and his husband Sawyer with their new baby girl Lily. Sawyer's police uniform had a dark stain on the shoulder from Thaddeus' crying most likely. A few women and men from cases he had solved. He saw his nephews Benedict and Demetrius who where consoling their wives. He looked around and all he saw was sadness.
"I want to leave" he said to John. John wasn't beside him anymore. He looked around and saw his friend standing next to a black and gold gravestone.
"You know I cried over this bloody thing" John said once Sherlock had joined him.
"I know" Sherlock replied.
"I don't even know why it's still here" he said.
"People are so sentimental" Sherlock said which made John chuckle. Sherlock looked beside the headstone and saw another one almost identical to his fake one. It was black with white lettering and it stood before a freshly filled grave. Sherlock Holmes, it read. Next to that one was a white headstone with black lettering that Sherlock had visited almost everyday since it had been out there. Molly Holmes, it read.
"Are you ready Sherlock" John asked.
"Take me away from it all John" he said to him. John touched his shoulder and suddenly Sherlock was surrounded by white. I front of him where six blurry figures. One of the started to come into focus and it came towards Sherlock. It was a little boy no older than 7, he had bouncing red curls and piercing blue eyes that Sherlock recognized as his own.
"Hi big brother" the boy said.
"Excuse me" Sherlock asked.
" it's me big brother...Davenport" the boy said. Sherlock remembered now. His mother told him when he was five that he was getting another brother named Davenport, but a few months laters he had heard screams coming from her room. Her sheets where covered in blood.
"I've been waiting to meet you for a long time, now I can play with you. Mummy and Mykie cried when they saw me...please don't cry big brother" he asked.
"I promised I won't cry Davey" Sherlock said to his little brother. Davenport smiled and turned and walked back to the line of blurred figures until Sherlock couldn't see him anymore. Then another one started to make their way forward. This person was very familiar to Sherlock, he was the last person he wanted to see right now.
"Hello boy" his father said. Thaddeus was standing on two legs and holding himself quite well. He looked exactly like Sherlock except for his ginger hair, he hated that fact.
"I'm sorry I didn't treat you better when you where younger...I was wrong. You do have a heart. I've been watching you for your entire life. I've seen the things you've done, the people you've saved, you have more heart then all of us" he said and with that he to turned around and left Sherlock. The next figure came into focus and Sherlock thought he was dreaming. The kid that stood before him was Carl Powers, his first case.
"Hey Sherlock, I know that the police didn't believe you when you told them that Jim killed me. My mum believed you though, see knew what happened to me. Thank you for that" he said then he to left. Before Sherlock knew it the next person was swinging his umbrella in front of him.
"It's good to see you brother dear" he said.
"Your looking thinner than usual Mycroft" Sherlock said.
"Death does wonders doesn't it" Mycroft said with a smile. Then he to was gone and replaced by the bubbly blonde Sherlock had learned to tolerate.
"Oh Sherlock I'm so glad you finally joined us, I've been up here to long so when Molly and John finally got here we waited for you but you sure took you sweet time getting here" Mary said as she reprimanded Sherlock for living.
"I'm sorry I took so long, but I don't think I could die if I wasn't at home" he said honestly. Mary put her hands on her hips and huffed.
"Well I wish you would have realized that sooner" she said. Then she stormed off into oblivion. Sherlock waited for his final figure to appear but they never did.
"What do you need" said a whispering voice from behind his back. Sherlock's heart leaped out of his chest.
"You"