A/N: Well, ladies and menfolk, this is it. I thank you ever so much for your kind words and your enjoyment, and hope (in the event that I ever actually manage to get another story ready to post) to see you again! For now, though, we must bid farewell to Holmes and Watson and the Earth Jedi, and someday, perhaps, one of those Jedi will give me a story to tell. Until then, I'm gonna go work on my Neverwinter Nights fic...:D
As always, the canon characters are owned by Doyle and Lucas, and I ain't making any profit off of this.
Enjoy, and 'la revedere'!
Later, as I lay in my bed at Baker Street, trying to sleep, I wondered if anything would ever seem normal again.
Sleep took me at last, and once more I found myself standing once more upon a field. Not a battlefield this time, but a quiet stretch of cemetery. The rising sun poured gentle, misty light over sculpted angels, and ahead of me I saw again the shape of a tall man. He stood, his back to me, at a new grave. I approached slowly.
"The Dark has failed," he said softly."The wall stood against the siege."
"Who are you?" I whispered.
He turned his head a little, but I still could see no face. "This battle has been won. You fought valiantly, John Watson. This world is safe...but the war for the galaxy is yet to be fought."
I started awake, gasping for air. Another dream. Was it prophetic? That seemed absurd. I shook my head, trying to clear the disturbing dream away. Did they mean anything? Or was it simply my brain, trying to cope with the utter strangeness that had overtaken my life these past weeks? It seemed unlikely that I would ever know...and it hardly seemed worth my while to fuss over it. Grumbling a little at the whole situation, I rolled over and went back to sleep.
How does one return to a smaller world? My eyes had been opened to a galaxy of possibilities, much of it beyond my ken. Our housekeeper and landlady was a warrior from another world, one of many walking among us. Holmes and I had faced a threat greater than any we had ever conceived. That threat was defeated, but its influence would long be felt. We could not forget.
Still, it seemed that our bizarre adventure was over. Qui-Gon and his apprentice made their preparations to leave, the pirate Mailen secure in their custody. The other Jedi drifted back to their various posts, a little more scarred and (I hoped) a little wiser. Holmes and Mrs. Hudson spent a week edging around each other uncomfortably before reaching a silent, mutual agreement to pretend that nothing was out of the ordinary. I spent some time concocting a suitably exciting (and heavily edited) explanation for Mary concerning my disappearance. Lestrade continued trying, futilely, to corner Holmes into telling him what was really going on. Holmes ignored him. It did nothing for their relationship.
I found myself compelled to record the events of this most bizarre case, though I knew that it would never see the light of day. There was a far bigger world out there than I had ever imagined.
Somehow, though, I found that to be comforting. We were not alone in our struggle against evil.
And so I lift a toast to the faceless ones out there among the stars, fighting the same battles Holmes and I and so many others fought here, on this lonely little planet. Hail to the fighters, wherever–and whatever–you may be. Keep up the good fight, for in the end, darkness must give way to the light.