I knew this was going to be hard for all of us except for Bayley. He hadn't come to know Sherlock like Mary, my dad, and I did. The only encounters Bay had had with him were months ago, and they hadn't been the nicest.

We took two cars, one for Dad and Mary, another for me and Bay. We were silent, still holding hands. I fidgeted, feeling the dreadful moment nearing. If I'm going to be bad, I can't imagine how Dad will be. He's got to say goodbye to his best friend all over again.

Once the sight of a huge jet was upon us, the moment felt heavy. I felt crushed by it, and I hadn't even gotten to the worst part yet. Our car pulled in behind the car in front of us. We all seemed to get out in unison.

Bay remained attached at the hip with me as I saw Sherlock with his brother and a security guard. I rolled my eyes. What was going to happen in the middle of nowhere?

Mary was the first to reach Sherlock, with the rest of us behind her.

"You will look after him for me, won't you?" Sherlock asked her.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll keep him in trouble." There was a cute moment between them as they kissed each other's cheeks and hugged.

"That's my girl."

Mary soon walked back over to Dad to take his hand. My eyes fell to the ground, wanting to remain there. I picked them back up to see Sherlock turn to Mycroft.

"Since this is likely to be the last conversation I'll have with John Watson, would you mind if we took a moment?"

"Let's give them some privacy," Mary told us, ushering us to join Mycroft and the guard at one of the wings of the plane.

While Dad and Sherlock talked for the final time, my mind wandered. I wasn't about to prepare a speech in my head for Sherlock, as I knew I would forget it by the time I got the chance to say goodbye. I owed that man so much, so much that I should owe him my life for all he'd done for my family.

I eavesdropped on part of the conversation; it was hard to resist.

"The game is over," Dad realized.

"The game is never over, John, but there may be some new players now," Sherlock told him firmly. "It's okay. The East Wind takes us all in the end."

"What's that?"

"It's a story my brother told me when we were kids. The East Wind—this terrifying force that lays waste to all in its path. It seeks out the unworthy and plucks them from the Earth. That was generally me."

"Nice."

"He was a rubbish big brother."

He still is, I'm sure, I commented mentally.

Dad cleared his throat. "So what about you, then? Where are you actually going now?"

"Oh, some undercover work in Eastern Europe." If I didn't know any better, I'd say Sherlock sounded bored by his punishment.

"For how long?"

"Six months, my brother estimates. He's never wrong."

Six months. I swallowed, wondering just how much trouble he could get himself into there. I freaked myself out by also thinking that Sherlock could possibly not come back to London should his undercover work prove to be fatal. Sherlock has faked his death and has cheated death, he won't go down easy.

"And then what?" Dad asked.

"Who knows?" There was a pregnant pause. "John, there's something...I should say, I-I've meant to say always and then never have. Since it's unlikely we'll ever meet again, I might as well say it now." I wasn't sure if Sherlock was fumbling for words, or if he was using the silence for dramatic effect. "Sherlock is actually a girl's name."

I kept my laugh hidden behind my hand; I didn't want anyone to pick up on my eavesdropping.

"It's not," Dad said.

"It was worth a try."

"We're not naming our daughter after you."

"I think it could work." The pause made me snap my head to them. Sherlock had his glove off his right hand, that hand extended out for Dad. "To the very best of times, John."

I nearly cried as they both shook hands. Oh, just hug like you did at the wedding! I pleaded. But I knew that would only guarantee tears from me, so I was secretly grateful they only shook hands.

The duo was broken up, it was official. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were no longer a pair. Their crime solving days were put out of commission. What would be in their futures, nobody would be certain. All I knew was that while Sherlock would be gone, my baby half-sister would be in the world.

There's always a silver lining somewhere.

I realized their heartfelt talk was done, because Dad came back our way. While Dad walked back to rejoin a pregnant Mary, he shot me a look. You better say goodbye before he gets on, his eyes told me.

I exhaled loudly. Well, now is as good of a time as ever. I nodded, and with an encouraging nudge from Bay, walked slowly to the consulting detective to preserve the moment. I didn't want to say goodbye, not after the world just got him back.

In my list of heart wrenching moments, this had to be in the top five. I never thought I'd see the day where I would have to say goodbye to Sherlock Holmes for good. To have him gone, he'd create a void only he could fill up again. Nobody could take his place.

"So you're going away," I said thickly, already feeling choked up. I shook my head, feeling the wind gently mess with my hair. "It seems like only yesterday you came back from the dead. I owe you so much."

"Don't bother," he murmured.

"I mean it, Sherlock. You helped me find my dad." I ticked off a finger. "And you lived up to your vow at the wedding." Sherlock was that type of person, prepared to do anything. How come it took him killing a man to make me realize it?

"Rachel."

"Hmm?"

"Can you do me a favor?"

I raised an eyebrow. "That depends. What is it?"

"Keep out of trouble, for your sake and your father's."

I sighed dramatically. "Oh, Sherlock, no matter what I do, trouble will find me. I'll never be able to run from it." I jokingly smiled. My playful side disappeared almost instantly, crushed by the realization I may never see Sherlock again.

I let my emotions get the better of me; I tackled Sherlock into a hug, burrowing my head into him. Though I was sure it would get me odd looks from Mary and my dad, and maybe even Bayley, I didn't care. I knew what Sherlock was to me, definitely not a lover. Surprisingly, I didn't feel him stiffen under me.

I pulled my head up to look at him. He kept his face close to mine, staring into my eyes. A brief flashback popped into my head. This was similar to how we'd been before Sherlock had confronted Moriarty. Hopefully he didn't knock me out again with a forehead collision.

"What?" I asked impatiently.

"I'm just confirming something." He cracked a smile. I scowled, hating that he was being secretive with me. "Oh, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about."

"I don't."

"Really?" He cocked an eyebrow. "It would have never really happened, Rachel."

I blinked. "What wouldn't have?"

Sherlock snorted loudly. "Must I say it out loud?"

"Oh." I cleared my throat. "That. I'm pretty sure you're right on that. But if you still think there's anything there, you're wrong."

"Hmm, yes, I highly doubt that. You may have Bayley back, but are you really sure there isn't a part of you that still wants to try for it?" Sherlock didn't look or sound convinced.

"I really am." I put my face closer to his to prove my point. I pulled back quickly, because temptation had been close to winning me over. Damn it.

Sherlock chuckled. "You haven't gotten over it entirely. You and I both know my role in your life will never be as your lover, you already have someone for that."

I refrained from shivering. Hearing him say your lover almost got me thinking dirty thoughts. But he was right; there were so many things that would have worked against us. Our personalities alone would keep us apart, not to mention the work he was involved in. I was at risk enough as it was being his blogger's daughter. I could only imagine how heightened the danger would have been for me had we been together. I definitely couldn't forget that I would never hear the end of it from my dad if Sherlock and I had actually amounted to something intimate.

Even if the said relationship happened, it would have crashed and burned somehow in the end. Sherlock knew that, and I knew that. I guess the faux affair had shown me what a relationship with Sherlock would have led to. Would it have made a difference if he had actually felt something, if he hadn't been using me?

I hadn't realized I'd been a bit infatuated with him until around the day of the wedding, when Janine had been talking to him and asking me about him. I hadn't noticed that my protectiveness of Sherlock was more out of jealousy than out of friendship. I knew Sherlock had figured it out long before I had.

The man knew things about people before they knew it of themselves.

"Then what is your role in my life?" I prompted.

"I'm your protector."

Those three words brought tears to my eyes. Those words told me that he didn't view me as John Watson's daughter, as someone he was forced to get along with just because I was related to his blogger. No, I could tell I meant something to him, and that was saying something, being that the high-functioning sociopath didn't care about many people.

While the shock paralyzed me where I stood, Sherlock took advantage of the situation. He planted a soft kiss on the crown of my head.

"By the way, I am truly sorry for hurting you," he whispered. "And I know you're in the safest hands. Don't lose him, Rachel."

I laughed. "I won't."

With a heavy heart, I watched, frozen in place, as Sherlock headed to board the plane. Once Sherlock was inside, he was sealed in, and we all headed back to the cars to watch the takeoff. I wiped my eyes as Bay walked beside me.

"You'll be alright," he assured me. "Sherlock will be too." I wanted to believe him on that.

It wasn't before long that the plane righted itself so it could take off on the runway. I grabbed Bay's hand out of anxiety. My heart tightened in my chest. This was really happening; Sherlock Holmes was leaving London, leaving John Watson behind. His days at 221B Baker Street were no more. There was a chance of them never happening again.

As the plane rose higher, my heart dropped. My protector was being shipped off to Eastern Europe for undercover work, but I still had my other protector alongside me. I was sort of glad Sherlock and Bayley hadn't talked. The last thing I wanted was for Bay to be threatened if he let anything happen to me.

Sherlock was definitely right when he'd said that he was my protector. He was a bunch of things to me aside from that: unpredictable, something like family—like a brother, and sometimes a smartass. Never in my life had I ever met someone as unique as him.

I'd miss Sherlock until the day he'd return, if he did.

**Well, I just got punched in the feels.**