A/N: I've been feeling a bit angsty, lately, and to be honest, I'm starting to feel my Sherlolly ship sink a bit. After everything that went down in Ep. 3 between them, and what Sherlock did both by taking drugs and what he did to Janine, I'm really pushing for Molly to move on and get over him. She got so much stronger in season three, but in my opinion, by the end Sherlock got so much worse, at least to her. I'm trying to imagine what I would say or want Molly to do if I was friends with her, and my answer really wouldn't be wait for him to get better. We'll see what happens with season four...

Disclaimer: Of course it's not mine. This piece was heavily influenced by "Say Something" by Great Big World and Christina Aguilera. which is also not mine.

Edit A/N2: Edinburgh is now spelled correctly. Oops! My American is showing. Thanks Lian for pointing it out!

Sherlock snuck through the doors of the lab at St. Bart's. He had heard the rumors for weeks but had paid little attention to them. They were all wrong, there was no way they could possibly be true. He called them absurd, ridiculous, stupid. It wasn't until John confirmed them all with a solemn look that he believed them.

His pathologist was leaving.

Molly was putting the last of her things in a box, wiping tears from her eyes as she glanced longingly at the space around her. She hadn't noticed Sherlock entered the room. She sat back down, rummaging through the files one last time, seeing if there was anything she needed in them.

"Molly."

His voice was low, almost scolding her like he often did. She stiffened in her seat but didn't look up. "I was hoping you'd stop by," she said quietly, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. "I didn't want to go without saying goodbye."

He approached her slowly as if she were a skittish animal about to bolt. "Molly," he repeated, using the same tone as before.

She wiped her eyes. Steeling herself, she stood and faced him, looking at him square in the eyes. "Yes, Sherlock?"

Her quiet confidence surprised him. Though she had matured around him ever since helping him with his fake suicide, he still expected her to begin babbling, not unlike the first time she told him about Tom. He was not entirely sure how to continue with her looking expectantly at him. All he could do was utter a single word. "Why?"

She smiled slightly. "I was offered a position at Edinburgh. Research. Really an amazing opportunity. It would be silly to pass up," she explained, quite contritely.

Sherlock faltered again, unsure of how to continue. Molly always gave him a lead in their conversations, but now she was expecting him to hold up his own end of the conversation. "But... you love Bart's."

"I do," she nodded, agreeing and looking around. "I'm really going to miss it here. But I'll move on." She looked back at him, her small smile still present. "I had a good run."

"Molly," he said, taking a step closer. He felt... hollow at the thought of her not here, and he didn't like it. "Are you leaving because of me?"

Her smile dropped, and he had his answer. "Sherlock..."

"I told you you count. You do, you still do," he said quickly.

She nodded again, her small smile returning with a twinkle in her eye. "I know. I know I do."

"I need you here. You're the only..."

"I know you need me, Sherlock," she interrupted. He raised his eyebrow curiously. Everytime he tried to use that argument with her, she told him that every other staff member was just as capable. He would claim she was better and that he truly needed her, and she would eventually comply. Her agreeing with him on this matter was new. "But for once... just this once, I need to put my needs first."

"So you need to get out of here?" he asked in disbelief.

She nodded, a tear gently falling down her cheek. "This life here in London... with you, and St. Bart's, and solving crimes... it's wonderful. It really is. I have absolutely no regrets about anything I've done here, Sherlock. But I want more."

He understood what she meant. She had never really kept it a secret, what she wanted. A romantic relationship, a husband, a family... "I can't give you more," he said quickly, lest she get the wrong idea.

"I know," she sniffled, smiling again as she wiped her tears away. "For so long I had hoped... I know you can't, and that's okay. But it's okay for me to want more, too. It's a dead end for me, here, Sherlock. I can't get what I want here."

"Don't be absurd, Molly," he said. "There are plenty of eligible men here in London. You found one of them while I was away." He wanted a reaction out of her, something to tell him that meek, submissive Molly was still in there somehow. He wanted her to stop smiling, even if it was tinged with sadness. But it seemed everything he said was expected and that she had an answer for all of his questions already.

"It's not just finding someone, Sherlock," she admitted quietly. "I know you think Tom was a lesser version of you. And maybe he was, I don't really know now. I know it's overly cheesy to say, but I don't know who I am. I don't really know who I've become. But what I do know is that in the two years you were gone, I started to find myself. That included having my first real, serious relationship since uni, but it also included the research and work I was able to do."

She took a steadying breath and turned away from him, leaning down on her desk for support. "This was my first job out of uni. It was a fantastic opportunity then, and I've learned so much. But I do think I could have done so much in the past few years. I was swept off my feet the moment you deduced everything about the body in front of me for the first time. I've been so caught up with you since, that I haven't been able to do anything else except assist you. As long as I'm here, I'll always be known as 'Sherlock Holmes' Assistant.' That's what the kind ones call me, anyway."

Bravely, she turned to face him again, holding his gaze. "You've always been a shadow over me, Sherlock. I've always been confined to whatever you want me to do or to see. I don't mean harshly, Sherlock. It's just who you are, and how I've always responded. And how I'll always respond, as long as we're both here. I got a taste of the sun when you were away, and I want it back."

The two stood there quietly, staring at each other, waiting for the other to break. Though Molly was the first to turn away, it wasn't from defeat; it was like she was simply giving up. She picked up the box off of her desk and began to walk away. "Who knows, maybe they'll replace me with hapless newbie who will get caught up in you, too," she humorlessly chuckled as she turned.

He took a step towards her, reaching out for her arm and spinning her around again. "I... I want to be able to give you more," he muttered. Whether it was a lie in an attempt to make her stay or the truth, Sherlock wasn't completely sure.

She shifted the box to her hip and held it with one arm. She placed her free hand over the one grasping her arm. "But you can't." Though she smiled, the pain in her eyes was evident. "And it's okay, Sherlock. It's all okay." Just as he had done to her twice before, she leaned up and gently kissed his cheek, lingering only for a moment, before turning on her heels and walking towards the doors. She shut the lights off, engulfing the room in darkness, as Sherlock stood there helplessly. He saw her figure turn around, looking at him one more time in the darkness, before she left for good.

"Goodbye, Sherlock."