I do not own Sherlock or any characters.

Her skin was pale, the colour draining from it each second. Her breath was shallow, not quite able to catch as she stared at the wound in her stomach. Blood leaked out slowly and she watched peacefully as it spread, the stain only just visible on her black Iron Man t-shirt. She didn't feel herself collapse, only realising she'd moved when she found herself lying on the cold white floor. Tear's pricked the back of her eyes that were desperately trying to close, to make this whole scene go away.

But it was impossible. She was dying.

She could almost feel her eyes clouding over and she readied herself to let go.

Goodbye Sherlock.

"No!"

Sherlock didn't even register that the shout had come from his own mouth. He could barely register anything as he stood frozen, staring at the pale figure lying on the floor. His eyes trailed to the blood pooling around her, taking in one last sight before panic took over.

He was by her side in a second, hands pressing furiously at the wound in an effort to stop the bleeding.

"John, do something!" He shouted, angry in his fear.

John quickly came to kneel at the other side of the now ghost-like Molly, examining the wound before sitting back slowly, shame evident on his face.

"I need to call an ambulance, there's no exit wound, the bullet must have lodged itself in there somewhere. I... I can't get it out." He said, panicking as he dialled furiously.

But Sherlock wasn't listening, his eyes were glued to Molly's, watching cautiously as they tried to stay open. Gently he gathered her in his arms. A single tear rolled softly down her cheek as her eyes began to close.

"No, Molly keep your eyes open. The ambulance will be here in a minute you'll be okay. Just focus on me, focus on me." said Sherlock as he shook her.

"No." she breathed as she shook her head, "It's time for me to go. You... you know what I mean."

"No. No Molly it's not time yet, keep looking at me." He didn't notice the tear falling silently down his own face, only felt the burning at the back of his eyes.

"Thank you Sherlock, for everything. You've been a good friend. Tell John I said thank you too."

"Tell him yourself, you'll see him in the hospital." He half-smiled. Molly's eyes went to close again but Sherlock shook her gently, silently begging her to stay awake.

"I always loved you."

The words were barely a whisper, warm and full of unspoken happiness, sadness and fear. Sherlock couldn't say anything, only hold her too him like she was his only source of life. His head fell to her neck and Molly felt his warm tears trailing down her ice-cold skin.

"I'm scared, Sherlock."

"Don't be. You're going to be okay. You're going to be fine just stay with me and it'll be okay."

His head lifted up as he focused his eyes on Molly once again. Pain and fear were etched into her features as she continued to breathe shakily.

"Goodbye Sherlock."

"No. Molly. Please." He begged, shaking his head in denial as her eyes drifted.

"Molly please. I'm begging you please Molly! Please." The words were a jumbled rush, a hopeless attempt to say everything he needed.

"Please."

But words aren't medicine. Words aren't surgeons. Words are useless.

"I love you."

Words didn't stop her eyes from clouding over.

"Please stay with me."

Words. His words.

"I'm so sorry."

They were too late.

"Please."

"Please don't leave me."

"I still need you."