I would like to welcome you to the final chapter of this story! But fear not my lovelies, this is not the last we see of Amber and Sherlock. They will be back, hopefully later today or tomorrow, hopefully later today though! Enjoy the chapter!
Empress of Verace: I'm so glad to hear that you did good on your exams! I know how stressful they can be so I will always offer support to my readers. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter and I hope you enjoy this one as well!
The Yoshinator: Lol, well the hints are very subtle throughout the story so I figured no one see them, but no worries. Enjoy the chapter!
Loki'sdreamer: Well everyone has a set of false, or floating ribs which are not attached to the sternum. I should have been a little more specific about that lol. I hope you enjoy the chapter!
CarminaxBuranax: Is she dead? Or isn't she? Read to find out. I'm sure it's obvious what the answer it but well, yeah, not answering lol. I'm evil! Thank you so much, and I am aware that the last chapter might have made some people hate me a little. Even I hate myself for that chapter. I cried, I really did, while writing that. I hope you enjoy the chapter!
lightsabove: Yes, one more chapter is depressing but then we have the sequel to look forward to. I'm glad you love the story and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Gwilwillith: Oh, I'm so I almost made you cry. If it helps I cried writing it lol. Enjoy the chapter!
animelover56348: Thank you so much, for your compliments and the PM of the idea! Enjoy the chapter!
skidney: Thank you, enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. I only own Amber, Megan, and anything else you don't recognize such as the plot and the terrible things I have done in the last few chapters.
Sherlock, currently recovering his breath, looked at John. "Thanks," he muttered looking down that the man now unconscious on the floor. The bottle that John had grabbed was now shattered into pieces, scattered around the floor, not that either of them really cared. This man deserved so much more than a bottle to the back of the head, and both were more than happy to deliver if he so much as made a move to get up.
"AMBER!" a muffled scream came from somewhere in the back of the building. That scream alone was enough to keep them from acting on their thoughts about how to take care of the unconscious man sprawled on the dirty floor of the building.
Both John and Sherlock rushed from the room, the taller of the two several feet ahead thanks to his added height. They ended up in the hallway, a different one than the one they had originally come in, and found themselves at a cross roads of sorts. John nodded to the left while Sherlock motioned for the right. With a duel nod, they but went their separate ways in order to search for the source of that screaming. It would be faster if they searched separately than together. They could cover more ground and hopefully find the source of the scream, which they knew would bring them to both Amber and Brianna.
John was the one who encountered the broken and rotted staircase at the opposite side of the building. He sent out a little thanks that they didn't have to search the whole place, just the bottom floor. No one, not even a mad man like Scot, would risk attempting to go up those stairs in any manner, especially with two full grown women who would struggle the entire time. He headed down another hall, away from the stairs, pushing open doors as he went, screaming both Amber's names as well as Brianna's. He could even hear Sherlock doing the same on his side of the building, though his voice sounded far away now. He doubted that they had realized how large the abandoned building was until just this moment.
As John moved through the building opening the doors, all of them opening smoothly or with a squeak until finally he came to a door that he couldn't get open. It was either locked or stuck, he was leaning more towards locked, though in that building it could have been either. He jiggled the handle a couple of times, hoping that maybe it was simply just stuck and that it would open like the others but when he heard someone shout from within he knew that it had been purposely locked.
"Someone! Help!" That once muffled scream was now louder and John knew that the voice belonged to Brianna, even if he had never heard it before, and it most certainly came from right behind the door he now stood in front of.
"Sherlock!" John shouted before he attempted to kick the door in. The door barely budged but when he attempted it for the second time the hinges started to groan under the violent force behind John's kicks. By the fourth time the door gave in, opening to reveal Amber laying on the floor at the back of the room and a another redhead woman tied to a wall, struggling frantically to get free of her bonds.
"Help her, please," Brianna, of course it had to be Brianna, pleaded with tears in her eyes just as Sherlock entered the room behind John. The army doctor ran to Amber's side, slamming down on the ground beside her. He instinctively went to check her pulse, his mind screaming that she had to be alright. He wasn't sure if Sherlock would handle losing her. He hadn't reacted favorably when it was assumed Irene had died, and she had simply been a puzzle to Sherlock. Amber was someone he loved, if she was gone, what would happen to Sherlock? John didn't even want to fathom the idea.
"Sherlock, her pulse is thready at best and her breathing is shallow. She's got a collapsed lung and the other one isn't to far behind it. Most likely some internal bleeding. Get Lestrade on the phone, get an ambulance here as fast as you can," he ordered to the darker haired man, falling back on his training.
He nodded, casting one last glance at Amber laying there, broken, on the floor. He could see a small puddle of blood just under where her head rested. It wasn't much but it was a good indication that she was bleeding internally as John had guessed. He wanted to walk out of that room and beat Scot Richardson to death for what he had done to Amber. However, he knew that he couldn't do that. Instead he phoned Lestrade, who said that they were less than five minutes away and that they had ambulances with them just in case the girls had been found. Sherlock didn't waste any time explaining the gravity of the situation because it was clear to anyone involved. He simply hung up and walked right back into that room seeing John working on the ropes tying Brianna to the wall, his eyes flicking to Amber ever couple of seconds to make sure he could see her breathing.
When Sherlock's gaze landed back to Amber he found himself with tunnel vision. He walked slowly to her side, kneeling down until he was right beside her. His hand ghosted over her cheek at first before he allowed his finger tips to brush her cooling skin, a sure sign of blood lose due to internal bleeding. He felt her breath shuddering, the wheezing of her trying to maintain the most vital of acts as human did: breath.
His heart broke. It felt like someone had ripped it out of his chest, seeing her laying there. It was beyond the fear he had felt seeing John with that bomb strapped to his chest in the pool. It went beyond the fear standing on that building knowing what he had to do to keep his friends safe. The thought that Amber wasn't going to make it out of that room, it almost paralyzed him. That feeling alone scared him.
He brushed a bloodied lock of her hair off her face. He ran a his thumb over one of the bruises gracing her cheek. His jaw clenched painfully. He had hurt her, he had beat her, he had laid his hands on something so precious. Now she lay there, a broken mess of who she used to be, fighting for every breath, for her very life because that man couldn't handle what life gave him and taken away.
Sherlock was furious, but everything in his body told him to stay with Amber, stay by her side and be there for her...just in case anything did happen. Taking up her hand, his jaw tensed when his eyes spotted the raw and bloodied skin on both her wrists. He shot his gaze to her ankles, seeing that they were more raw than they were bloody. She had fought, in some manner of speaking, to get free and it had left her with wounds that would leave scars. A constant reminder of what had happened and that she had survived, if she survived.
His gaze followed up from her ankles to her bruised legs. The bruises colored her skin from calf to thigh, and if he had to hazard a guess, even over her hips and to her stomach. She was black and blue, and would be that way for weeks.
The sound of sirens had both Sherlock and John looking up. Sherlock still held Amber's limp hand in his own, scared to let her go now that he had her. John was attempting to look over Brianna but she was fighting him as much as she could despite being weak. "Let me see her, please. She's my sister," the girl begged, her voice husky in her pain and fear for her little sister.
John simply nodded and walked the taller woman to Amber's side where she fell to her knees in a heap of tears. After a moment, she laid a hand on her sister's head. "Will she make it Dr. Watson?"
"If we can get her to a hospital she stands a very good chance of making it." A door was kicked in somewhere at the front of the building and the sound of Lestrade shouting orders could be heard echoing through the abandoned structure. "Sherlock, watch them," John ordered and disappeared at a trot out the door leaving him with one unconscious woman and a nearly hysterical one.
"You're Sherlock Holmes," Brianna started as she stroked her sister's hair, looking down at Sherlock's hand lightly holding Amber's. "Amber spoke of you, a lot. Said she loved you." Sherlock looked down at his girlfriend's limp body and frowned at the sight. "You love her just as much," the statement had him looking into a pair of eyes that reminded him of the pair he really did love. They were lighter in color but so similar. How was it that every could see his emotions concerning Amber, even long before he had realized he loved her?
He could only nod, however, as he heard people running down the hall to the room they currently sat in. He spotted John amongst several paramedics and officers flooding in through the door. One of them, a female, took Brianna from the room while another, a man, knelt down beside Sherlock and Amber. "Sir, you're going to have to move."
Sherlock was reluctant to do so but when he felt the hand of John on his shoulder he finally allowed the paramedic to do his job. Amber's vitals were taken, an IV was placed in her arm, and one of those masks put over her face to supply her with oxygen. She was carefully put on a gurney, much in the same manner he had seen after that gala incident, and wheeled at a fast pace out of the room. He wanted to follow with her, he could have actually, but he wanted everything over with concerning Lestrade and the police.
He walked out with John and met Lestrade just as Scot was rousing. Sherlock felt the hate boil in him, the frustration at not being able to hurt the man as he had hurt Amber, but managed to keep it buried enough to simply walk by the handcuffed man to the DI standing talking to Donovan.
"Good work Sherlock," Lestrade said, eyeing Sherlock carefully. He saw the stress and worry etched around Sherlock's usually cool eyes but didn't mention it. Donovan had the good sense not to do so either. For Sherlock to be so readable, they all knew that this was bad. "You can go with Amber. John can recount what happened for now, I'll get your statement later."
Just when Sherlock was about to decline, Lestrade put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, hearing a hiss of breath. The older man rose an eyebrow and removed his hand. "Do you need to be checked out? You've got quite a gash on your cheek and if I'm correct the stitches on that bullet wound have been popped. John, what do you think?" Lestrade turned to the blond man.
"Yes, I do believe he needs to be checked out. Since we don't have enough transportation for Sherlock to go on his own, he can ride with Amber," John suggested, waving Sherlock out the building, the man grumbling the whole way despite being happy about it.
Outside Sherlock was ushered into the back of the ambulance Amber was in. For a minute he had a flashback to the gala event from early November. It hadn't been that long ago, barely six months considering it was April now. Except this time Amber wasn't talking to him, he wasn't talking to her. She wasn't smiling at him or grumbling about how it was just a simple bump on the head. Her eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling erratically, and from the sounds the heart monitor were giving he knew that something bad was about to happen.
A few minutes into the drive his heart broke into pieces when the paramedic shouted to the driver, "She's coding!"
Sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed, Amber felt peace. She knew that wherever she was, she was safe from the pain her corporal body felt. Here in the darkness she might have been alone but she didn't mind. A person came into the world alone and in the end they left alone. Alone was what saved her, alone protected her. That was why she never felt bad when she was alone, she never felt sad or lonely. She always felt, peaceful and calm.
That was how she felt now, even though she knew that there were people just on the outside the little black world she currently sat in worried about her, scared that she wasn't going to wake up. Truthfully, even she didn't know if she was going to make it through. She knew that she wanted too, but that didn't mean she would. Good people passed every day and what was to say she wasn't going to be one of them? The only thing she could do was sit there and wait. She would either wake up or slip away. She only hoped that this wasn't what death was. She prayed that in the end, if she did die, that something better awaited her on the other side, not just the darkness she currently waited in.
So for now she sat there, her mind for the first time in so long, completely blank of all thoughts and memories. She liked that, the blankness of her mind. It wasn't often she could sit still and not hear herself in her mind, talking or thinking or remembering. It was so very peaceful and very disconcerting at the same time. She was so used to her mind buzzing, even when she was sleeping that this was weird in a small way. She wondered if this was what normal people felt, the people who weren't very smart.
That wasn't to say Amber couldn't remember or think at that moment. It just meant that for the first time she wasn't forced to think. So when she decided to pull up memories it wasn't like she was walking down the little street in her mind, it was just normal memories she pulled from the back of her mind as any other person might do when they wanted to simply remember something.
The first thing she pulled up was a memory of her and Megan. They were younger, running through the field just behind her aunt and uncles house, dressed in fancy dresses having just come from Easter mass. They weren't more than twenty years old, off on a spring break from university and finally getting the chance to act like children again. After months of school and work and acting like an adult, being able to run through the tall grass was like being five years old again, being so carefree and happy. It was memories like that which reminded her that she had had a very good life despite what had happened to her.
After a few minutes of replaying the scene, listening to their laughs, the image changed to the time she met Scot. That pub in Birmingham, the dim lighting, the smell of smoke and beer wafting into her nose. She looked across the bar and there he sat, a sandy haired man with pale brown eyes and a look on his face that said he needed someone to talk to. She had approached him, talked to him, felt a small spark there. She had been young, barely old enough to drink. She had been so excited, so happy when she had met him. Look where that had landed her.
She flicked that memory away, a distant one she would do well not to remember, ever. The next memory had her heart stopping in her chest. It was Sherlock, a half smirk on his face as he looked at her, their arms linked gently. It was one of those moments, so common since they had started dating. They had been walking back from a cafe on her lunch break, near the beginning of their relationship, when things had been so new to the both of them. They had been talking about something, everything really, her work, his cases. They were just talking and that was perfect enough, it would seem, for the both of them. It had made her smile up at him, made him smirk down at her. The fact that she could keep his attention even when they were just talking to one another, it was a miracle because Sherlock's interest was so hard to hold in the first place.
The memories slipped by, Sherlock and her talking and laughing over the telly, them kissing softly or snogging like teenagers on her couch. Even in that dark space she was in she swore she could feel his hands on her hips, the way his fingers dug into her flesh just there when they were in a heated moment. She could feel the softness of his hair beneath her fingers, tickling her palms. His lips were always so soft against hers, whether they were being gentle or rough with it. He was always sweet to her and she loved that about him.
She closed her eyes against the darkness, such a small smile playing on her lips she felt so happy in that moment. If she didn't wake up at least she knew she had loved and was loved in return even if he had never said it. She could be happy, knowing she had lived a good life despite what had been thrown at her. She could smile in death and life because she had lived. She hadn't hidden herself away from the world, she hadn't blamed the world for what had happened to her. She hadn't pulled into herself and shut out the world. She had thrown herself into it even when she didn't have to. She had helped people, worked a good job, been a good friend, and tried never to hurt anyone. That, she supposed, was how life was meant to be lived, whether your had a good start or a bad one.
So when she began to fade in the blackness, felt the weight on her chest, she knew that she was going to make it. She smiled in the dark, felt the deep shuddering breath rip through her body until her mind slipped away as she was pulled from the blackness and back into reality.
The pain was back, the terrible pain running through her whole body. She was alive, she was in pain, and she was suffering, but she was alive. Her chest felt as if she had a hundred pound weight sitting on it. Her sides stung with each shallow breath she took in and let out. Her head was throbbing, her legs had a slow dull ache. As much as she hated the pain she was so happy. She was alive and she was going to be alright. It would take some time but before long she would be back to herself. She was so very happy about that.
"Sherlock," she whispered out in the room. She knew she was in a hospital room. It smelled like one, the antiseptic scent of disinfectant and medicine. She could hear the sound of a machine beeping just off the left of her. She felt the IV needle in her hand, an annoying pressure as whatever fluids they were giving her were slowly put into her body. She felt the little tube in her nose, pumping much needed oxygen into her lungs to help with her breathing. The scratchiness of the blanket draping over her lower half, the cool cotton of the hospital gown.
The room was dark, shadows in pretty much every corner, with only a little bit of light here and there. It was a tab bit eerie, that darkness combined with the near silence of the room. Darkness and silence were not her favorite things at the moment. Having been stuck in that dark room with little to hear beside the breathing of her sister and herself, aside from the occasional conversation, was still rather fresh in her conscious mind. It would be a while before she could tolerate the dark again, before silence didn't make her nervous. Neither the darkness and quiet had bothered her in that in-between place but then again she was awake now and that was a different topic.
"Sherlock?" she called again, becoming a little worried that he wasn't answering her. He always answered her when she called for him in the middle of the night. She was scared then, not for herself but for him. She knew it was Sherlock and John who had saved her. She knew that in order to get to her and Brianna that Sherlock and John would have fought Scot in some manner. She was worried that Sherlock had been hurt in the process, injured like she was and laid up in some room down from where she was currently laying. She didn't want him to be hurt, she wanted him to be alright. She wanted to hold his hand, to smile at him, to talk to him. She wanted to tell him she loved him and she wanted to just see him. She wanted him there right beside her because she needed him and she worried about him. She always worried about him, at least she was realizing this now.
"Amber," Sherlock's groggy voice greeted her from across the room. Attempting to shift herself into a sitting position she hissed out in pain only to feel to strong hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her back down so she was once more laying there on the bed. "Just lay there."
"Sherlock, are you alright?" she sighed, happy to see him.
"I'm perfectly fine," he muttered. "You shouldn't be worried about me. You're the one who has been unconscious for the last three days."
"Three days?" she asked, incredulous. "How long did he have me?"
"Ten hours and fifteen minutes," Sherlock recited causing her to flinch. He knew the exact amount of time she had been held captive. He had been worried and it hurt her to know that she had been the cause of that pain.
She felt the tears gather in her eyes, "I am so sorry Sherlock. If I hadn't of slipped away from Tom at the station Scot wouldn't have gotten me."
Sherlock pulled down the railing of her bed, sitting on the edge carefully as to not jostle her too much. He laid a hand on the side of her face, gently stroking the bruise on her cheekbone. "You have nothing to be sorry for. This would have happened eventually, giving him more time to plan. This might have ended worse than it actually did Amber."
"I died Sherlock," she mumbled. She knew that she had, that was the only way she could explain that blackness she still remembered being in. What else could it have been? She's been unconscious before, but during that there was nothing, not even a black space. This time round it was like she was there, not inside her actual body, but her soul had been in that dark place. She had died, if only for a moment. But a moment was infinite in the black space. It had felt like she had been there for hours and it could have felt like seconds when she had been unconscious. Time worked oddly when you weren't awake to live in it. "How could it have ended worse?"
"You could have been gone forever," he said sadly as he looked at her.
She smiled as she turned into his hand, laying a kiss on his palm the best she could. "I won't leave you Sherlock, not for anything."
"Amber...I—" he started, unsure of how to go about this. He wasn't used to expressing his emotions. However, looking into her pain filled green eyes he knew he had to say it, because he meant it and he didn't want anything to happen to her without her knowing it. "I love you."
"Oh," her heart skipped a beat, she heard the monitor taking her pulse begin to beep rapidly and she smiled brightly up at him. "Oh Sherlock, I love you too." She brought her hand up, the one without the IV in it, and placed it against his cheek. "You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that."
He smiled down at her, so happy that she was alright. His heart still hurt, knowing that she had died on the way to the hospital. The sound of that heart monitor would forever haunt his mind. Just as he leaned down to lay a soft kiss on her lips the door to her room opened revealing two very concerned nurses who could only smile at the sweet display they were seeing before requesting that they stop.
One month later:
Amber stood in front of a set of five gravestones, each baring the last name Devons, though in her mother's case it bared the name 'Devons-Briggs'. Her mother had always been a rather odd woman, refusing to give up her family name even though she had been married. That was why all her children had the last name of Devons. Their father had understood the need to keep this family name, they were a well known family in the UK, he couldn't fault his wife for wanting to remain a part of it.
As she stood there awkwardly in front of those gravestones she stuffed her hands into the pockets of the new coat Sherlock had bought her. He'd gotten it for her as a replacement to the coat which had been ruined during the first few hours of her abduction. He had found it in a cute little shop just after she had been released from the hospital a little over two weeks ago. It was a rather beautiful wool coat, cut in a style much like his own but more fitted for her shorter female frame. It wasn't a solid colour, instead it was light gray and black houndstooth pattern which she adored. It was just her style, a little different than what others wore and even if it was an odd pattern, it matched pretty much anything she wore, not that she cared really. Her old peacoat had been a plaid pattern which she wore over everything. She had loved that coat but her new one was just as wonderful.
She fidgeted with the phone in her pocket when she could think of nothing else to keep her hands busy. Flipping it around, she took it out, looking over the new screen and case surrounding it. The phone, like the coat, had been bought by Sherlock. Except the phone had been given to her several days after she had fully woken up. She had learned that Scot had destroyed her phone so that the GPS couldn't be tracked. She would have laughed at the fact that this was her second new phone in the course of seven months, but the fact that they both had been broken due to Scot was enough to make her reconsider her laughter.
More than mildly uncomfortable, she shifted from foot to foot, still feeling a dull ache in her left hip when she put a little too much pressure on it. She didn't flinch as she would have a week ago, but it still hurt enough that she shifted the weight back to her right side. She had learned her left side had taken the brunt of the beating, leaving her feeling worse on that side than she did on the right.
Looking down at the names scrawled across the stones, she thought of what she could say to them. Of what she could tell them. This was how it always was. She came to the graveyard once a year, spent time sitting on the grass between her parent's gravestones and told them what she had been up to since the last time she had visited. She would tell her brother stories of the cases she worked and photographed, she would tell her sister her adventures around London and Sussex as well as her travels around and outside of the UK. She would tell her baby boy how much she wished he was with her, about the things they would be doing, how old he would be, what life would have been like had he lived.
However, today she just didn't know what to say to her family. She didn't want to tell them about what had happened in the last few months. She didn't want to tell them about Scot, the beatings she took, or the stalking. Those weren't appropriate topics to talk about right then. She had no interesting and witty stories, no adventures to tell, at least none that weren't violent and harsh.
"Hello," she started, her hands still in her pocket. "I have no idea what to say to you this time 'round. It feels like it's been longer than a year, so much longer," she sighed sadly. "So much has happened, most of it in the last six months. I've met some amazing people and a very brilliant one." She smiled brightly down at the stones before her.
"Brilliant? Most people call me an ass," Amber whipped around when she heard Sherlock's voice behind her. She smiled up at him, surprised to see him there but happy nonetheless.
"What are you doing here?" she asked when he moved closer to her standing between her parents' graves. They had a plot, their family. Even with the family spread across the UK, they would all come home in the end.
Sherlock looked over the gravestones, his hands in the pockets of his coat just like hers were. His hand was around the tiny little box Mycroft had given him last month, his mind racing as to what he should do with it, or rather when it was appropriate to bring up the topic. "Megan said you always come here around this time of year. I followed you."
She smirked at him, taking a step closer to him. "It's sweet that you worried that much about me, but I'm fine. No one following me now," she chuckled nervously and had to resist the urge to actually look around to make sure she was right. Scot and Neil had made her gun shy. It would be a while before she was back to her normal carefree self, or as carefree as she was before all this happened.
"I know that, but I..." he stopped for a moment. What was the reason he had followed her? There were so many. "I didn't think you'd want to be alone, considering." He didn't mean visiting the graves. He meant considering what had happened.
Her smile softened. "I didn't want to be alone, but I had thought you were working a case. Other wise I would have asked you to come with me."
"I had been working a case, it was ever so dull. If you had simply waited until I arrived back at the flat you would have been able to ask me," he gave her a pointed look, reminding her that she was a very impatient person at times.
Amber chuckled. "Yeah, suppose I shouldn't have run out like that," she pulled her hands from her pockets, fiddling now with her fingers. She noted that Sherlock's eyes darkened when he saw the fading marks on her skin. He wasn't too fond of the marks left behind. He had made it clear that he wasn't turned off by them, he just didn't like seeing her skin marred in such a manner. It reminded him that every day she was going to have to live with a visual reminder of what had happened. She was just happy that these scars would fade. The mental ones were the ones she was going to have to spend the rest of her life forgetting.
"I also had...a question," his statement was rather jerky as she cocked her head to the side. Sherlock was one of the most eloquently spoken men she she had ever had the pleasure of meeting and for him to not be sure of what he was saying, or rather asking, well that made her worry and wonder.
"Yes," she prompted seeing him looking at her but not really asking whatever it was he wanted to ask.
After a few more seconds he finally got up the nerve to pull out the box from his pocket. The move only caused Amber to shift her head to the other side, completely curious now. He had to admit, seeing her that confused at to what was going on, well it was just plan adorable. He simply chuckled lightly as he opened the box and pulled out a small silver ring.
When he glanced back up at Amber he had the satisfaction of seeing her jaw drop and her eyes widen as she stared in shock at the ring. He knew that she knew what he was about to ask. Holding the ring out to her he asked the question he never thought it would have asked and the last one she expected, "Amber, will you marry me?"
Questions? Comments? Concerns? Suggestions? Reviews are very much welcome!
A/N: Well here we are, you and me, on the very last page. Okay, enough of the overdramatic nonsense, even though I am a little emotional about this being the last chapter of this particular story. So please, tell me what you thought and yes, the ending is supposed to be like that!
Like I have stated previously, I do need suggestions for little mini case that will be used in the next story as well as the ones following it. I have a few cases in mind but I need a little help. These mini cases will actually be the only cases going on during the story even if there is a more central issue going on during the story. So please, send me your ideas, you will get credit for them! Thank you to those of you who have sent me an idea already!
So, on a different note, the poll I have up on my page will be open until right before I post the sequel. So go vote now if you haven't. It will be the last chance you have!
And finally, I wanted to let you all know that I will be posting the sequel sometime later today. Sadly I go sucked into watching the whole of Sherlock and well, sadly I got a little behind. I have most of the first chapter done, considering I've rewritten it twice now. If anything prevents me from posting the chapter today, I will have it up really early Thursday morning, like 1 in the morning early lol. Also, the update schedule will be the same, one chapter on Wednesday and one on Sunday, except for this first week. You will have to wait until next Wednesday for the second chapter because I want to try to get myself a few chapters ahead, instead of working chapter by chapter. If we're lucky you guys will get a chapter on Sunday. Hope that's okay. But following that it will be a regular update schedule lol.
Until later my lovelies. Be on the lookout for the sequel!