Sherlock Holmes was, as a grievous understatement, an unusual person. But, to be fair to him, he never had much chance to be otherwise.

Sometimes, there are cases of peculiar human beings born to quite ordinary families—the black sheep. It was quite common, actually. But Sherlock, he was a bit of a different story. It was as if he had an entire family of black sheep and he turned out some weird silver colour, an anomaly amongst anomalies.

But, in the end, maybe the most intriguing thing about Sherlock was that he convinced everyone he was some sort of great abnormality, incapable of human affection, when really that wasn't true at all.

His mind wasn't changed now. It was still one of the greatest probably ever to exist.

He looked to the man who was working the ambulance and knew he was cheating on his wife and owned three cats. One of the cops in the area looked like a woman, but was actually previously a man, and she/he was annoyed to be here because she had a date that she was late to. He could tell who was in the middle of sex when they were called here, who forgot deodorant, who had the alcohol problem, and who had quite indecent sexual feelings towards children.

He could still see all the things he always had been able to. In that way, he was exactly the same.

What had changed was his heart, the one people swore he never had.

As Sherlock sat with a blanket draped on his shoulder, John leaning heavily into his side, he realised he was completely content. He didn't know he was capable of feeling that way about life when he wasn't solving a case.

But now, the ultimate case was solved, it seemed. Maybe, a year ago, he'd've been happy for this type of case. One that had stretched his mind. Had turned out as something he couldn't even solve alone.

But now he had John, and being in danger for the sake of it wasn't quite as attractive as before. Not that it'd lost all appeal, of course. Even John liked danger. But Sherlock had never before had something to live for, something that was worth surviving to keep.

But now he did.

Sherlock and John were told they were free to go, after being asked a question or two by Lestrade Sr, and they both started walking aimlessly.

"I can't believe he's actually gone," said John.

Sherlock nodded. "No, neither can I, really. In the end, it wasn't even me that stopped him."

"Does that upset you?" John asked.

Sherlock shrugged. "I wish I'd figured out a way, sure, but this worked out fine. We're both alive, which is the important outcome."

John smiled. "You know, Sherlock of six months ago wouldn't've felt that way about it. He'd've been furious he didn't solve it."

"Well, I'm not the same Sherlock I was before," he admitted.

"Then what kind of Sherlock are you now?"

Sherlock stopped walking and turned to John. "The kind that's stupid enough to fall in love."

John grinned. "I've ruined you, haven't I?"

"Maybe. I just don't care much."

John nodded. "You know, that flat in London is actually plausible now that you're not going to die."

Sherlock's heart felt light at the thought. Living in a flat with John… It was the next great adventure. "We should probably finish school first," he said, hiding his enthusiasm.

"Right, of course," John agreed. "But it's a nice thought."

"I agree." They began to walk again.

"I wonder who my new maths teacher will be," mused John.

Sherlock smirked. "Hopefully this one won't be a murderer," he replied.

"Dunno, could be fun."

Sherlock grinned. "I think I'm the one that ruined you," he decided.

"Probably," John said. "But I'm kind of in love with you too, so I think it's a fair trade-off."

"Trading sanity for love? That's idiotic."

"Well, you did it too, so we're both idiots."

"I'm not an idiot," Sherlock said. "My sanity is completely intact."

"What, you've had sanity before?"

The two of them bickered like this for a while, and he and John continued to walk. And if they continued to walk like this forever, even if they just made fun of one another with their fingers intertwined between them, Sherlock could still be happy.

And so ends the tale of Westwood University.

Thank you all so so so so so so SO SO SO much for reading this. This story went over so much better than I thought it would. If I'd've known that so many people would like this story, that it'd end up being as long as a novel… it's just crazy. Just thank you for all the wonderful reviews, and the favourites and the follows and everything. And thank you for the constructive criticism in the reviews too, which I did appreciate. I just wanted this to be a story that wasn't just what I wanted, but was what the readers wanted too. Without suggestions from all of you, this would have been half the length.

And hey, if you're someone who just started reading now and were not getting the live updates, thank you too! I'm glad you took the time to read this outrageously long tale.

And now I can go have a life, probably, since I've barely had one since I started this story.

Lastly, if you all have no idea what to do with your lives now that you've finished, I have a suggestion. After you go and read all the rest of my Johnlocks, you should go find the profile of Quinn Anderson and go read her Johnlocks. Honestly, they're outstanding. Her skill makes me look like a baby in a trench coat. They're all so good. And tell her bethanyyerinn referred you to her too, because she knows me from how often I send her long reviews.

So yes. Thank you. Bless you.

Last thing. I have an original book I wrote based on this fic. It used to be on FictionPress, but it's been brought to my attention that it's good enough to publish. So it will be taken off the internet (sorry about that) but I'll be publishing eventually, so if you like my writing, keep a look out for a book called CSU Franklin! Thanks!