He had finally done it. Molly ground her teeth and held back tears, she was just as sad as she was angry. He'd always ran head first into danger, she always thought it was going to end like this.
Mycroft had pulled some strings and made certain she'd perform the autopsy because 'he would have wanted it that way'.
It felt a lot colder in the room as she pulled down the cloth. Professional or not, she almost didn't want to expose his genitals, but she was working, this was work and this was part of the job.
"Ok." She whispered, mentally preparing herself and began to start the recording for the records. "The date is Monday, October 27th, 2014…"
"Huh, what is that?" Molly screamed as she looked up to see a familiar face… one that matched the corpse on the table.
"You—you're…"
"Thats a really odd color, don't you think? Its clear your killers going to kill again."
"You're dead." She said, sternly. "You are dead and you are right here on this table."
"What?" Sherlock scoffed. "You thought this was me?"
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"You can't be expected to find the killer on your own and I'm the only one who's seen his face." He smiled, smugly, then looked away confused. "His face…"
"What about it?"
"I—uh— can't seem to remember it… I think the bullet may have gone through that part of my mind palace… pierced it… but, I should be able to recall it, somehow. I mean, the brains a big computer and I have back ups."
"Sh-show me where?" She asked. He showed her his wound, in the back of his head. Slowly, she lifted the body up and showed him the corresponding injury on his body. He seemed to recognize himself at that point, but, he still wasn't ready to believe.
"Thats—"
"Your head. Its your head,Sherlock, you are dead. You are on this table dead and I am to spend today cutting you up and examining your organs." He was at a loss for words.
"Then—then how am I—" He pressed his hands against his chest. "here? If I'm dead, how am I here talking to you?"
"I don't know."
"This is a mistake. It has to be some sort of mistake." He began laughing, louder than she'd ever heard him laugh and Molly wasn't sure what to do. Her chest felt heavy and tight and she decided she needed to sit down. Repositioning the body back on the slab, she walked over to a chair in the corner.
"I think I'm having a nervous break down." She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. "I might be sick." The trashcan scrapped the linoleum floor as she brought it between her knees.
"You? You don't have a friend trying to convince you you're dead. Its a damn good look-a-like by the way, I'll give you that. Where did Mycroft find him and why?"
"You idiot, you are dead. You're dead. D-E-A-D dead!"She appeared to still be trying to laugh it off, but when he saw she was crying he stopped. "Go look… closer, Sherlock." Swallowing hard, he obliged.
"Oh." His voice cracked as he looked over what was most definitely his body. "How did it happen?" He asked, slowly.
"We just know you got shot, no one else was there."
"So, you don't even know who it was that shot me?"
"Sherlock, we don't even know why you were there." With a hard nod, he looked away, as if it hurt his eyes.
"So, uh, does Lestrade have any leads?"
"Lestrade took a leave of absence. Dimmock is on your case. Mycroft had to make them have me do your autopsy." Molly shook her head. "Which, I'm obviously not capable of doing right now." As quickly as she could, she prepared him to go back into cold storage.
Absentmindedly, he began searching through the pockets of his Belstaff. "No phone."He muttered. "So, I guess its clear what you need to do."
"Yes, I need to take some time off. Obviously, your death has affected me more than I thought."
"What? No! You need to get Lestrade to go back to work and take my case! Can't have my murderer running around the streets of London, posturing to kill again. No, no. Lestrade is the only DI worth a damn down there and you." He pulled her away as she closed the drawer and turned her to face the doors. "have a lot of fast talking to do." He smiled and walked her out into the hall.
Cursing herself and her luck, she figured she was going crazy, but figured whatever part of her mind she was loosing was telling the truth. Greg Lestrade might be the only one who could solve Sherlock murder. Perhaps, if she appeased whatever this was, it would go away.

"I'm so glad you came." She cooed as Greg made his appearance at the cafe and drew him over to the table. It was in the back of the shop, and the lighting was a little bad, but the beautiful, decorative mirror behind them lit it up. It was square, like the windows, and framed in gold with a design of vines carved into it.
"Of course, Molly, anything for you." He said, pulling her in for a large hug. For awhile, they just sort of shot the breeze, talking about mundane things. Interestingly enough, she didn't know Greg also had a cat. "Now," he adjusted himself,leaning forward and looking Molly right in the eyes. "What is this really about? I mean, you didn't call me out here to talk about cats… you ok?"
"I'm fine… I just…" She took a deep breath. "I— we— You need to solve Sherlock's murder. You, not Dimmock."
"Look, you know," He continued, more aggressively. "You know damn well I want who ever shot Sherlock to rot but I— I just don't think I'd be the man for the job. Even if they allowed me to work on it, which they wouldn't—"
"Mycroft could fix that."
"They wouldn't put me on it, Molls."
"Yes, they would… if you wanted on the case, you could have it and you know." Licking her lips, she looked away and decided to change her approach. "Sherlock would have wanted it to be you on the case." Greg drooped back into his seat, rolling his eyes, looking a bit worse for wear and deflated. She had him.
"Maybe." He focused on the mug and stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth a bit, thinking. "If—and I'm not saying I do, but, If I do want this… do you really think you could get Mycroft to let them put me on it? I mean, they don't let friends or relatives of the victim on the murder cases."
"I'm certain." She said, pulling out her phone and opening up the contact list.