➳ Epilogue

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Seven Months Later

"How are you and John?" you ask, sitting down next to Mary on the couch.

"I don't know, honestly. He hasn't talked to me in weeks," Mary replies, closing her book.

"He won't even talk to Sherlock, probably because you, you know, shot him."

Mary's eyes widen. "(Y/N), I'm still so sorry-"

"Don't worry about it. Sherlock and I probably shouldn't have broken into Magnussen's office. But you are lucky that I didn't see you shoot him because if I knew it was you when you ran away, I would've killed you on the spot."

"It's scary how much you and Sherlock are alike."

"How so?" you question, wanting to see her views.

"When I saw Sherlock walk into the room, I knew you had to be with him and not far behind. I realized that if I shot him instead of waiting to shoot you, you wouldn't see my face, therefore not having a reason to leave his side. If I would've waited to shoot you, Sherlock would've made sure you were okay before getting John and immediately going after me to avenge what I did to you.

"See, in the same instances you both would have only gone after me if you saw who I was because you would want immediate revenge even if the other didn't die. But, assuming you got shot and Sherlock didn't see my face, he would've done what you did."

"I can see that," you say, nodding your head. "But when Sherlock woke up and said your name, I knew then that you did it."

"Why didn't you say anything?" she questions.

"Because that's where Sherlock and I are different. I knew there had to be some explanation, even if it was a terrible one. I can see in your eyes how much you love John and shooting his best friend would definitely contradict the relationship."

"What do you think Sherlock would've done if your roles were reversed?"

"Honestly... I think he would have been very angry. He's not exactly good at reading emotions like I am, therefore assuming you were using John in a maniacal way," you answer.

"Are you saying you forgive me?"

You crack a smile. "I can't say I forgive you for shooting Sherlock, but I understand when lies need to be told. If anyone understands the need of wanting a new life, it's me."

"I can see why Sherlock loves you," Mary chuckles.

"Sometimes being understanding is more important than being right. Sometimes we need not a brilliant mind that speaks but a patient heart that listens. Not keen eyes that always see faults but open arms that accept. Not a finger that points out mistakes but gentle hands that lead."

"God, can I keep you?" Mary asks somewhat seriously. "I mean, I guess it takes someone as understanding and as kind-hearted as you to love someone like Sherlock. But then again, you guys have the same mind."

"We just work. Or we're both too messed up to be with anybody else," you joke.

"Never," Mary starts. "The type of relationship you guys have is so pure despite your whole high-function sociopath thing. You bring out the children in each other.

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