Little Fall of rain
"Molly..." the words just fell from Sherlock's lips so clumsily. What had he done? She was there but dying. Before she fell, he caught her fragile body, it was shivering. Shivering is never good, he thought, Think Sherlock think! He mentally slapped himself telling his brain to get a move on and realise what he had do. He didn't mean to do it; he thought she'd enjoy coming out with him on a case. Molly's eyes were wide with shock as the bullet slammed into her body
"S-Sherlock..."
"I know," he whispered. They fell to the floor together. Sherlock pressing his head to hers
"I am so sorry"
"I-it's ok," she cried. Sherlock knew fine rightly it wasn't. She was bleeding in her stomach. Blood slowly fell from her as if it was laughing at Sherlock for what he had done. Molly gazed out into the nothingness that surrounded them
"S-Sherlock"
"I'm here"
"You n-need to wa-watch Les Mis"
"I will, I promise you I will" she laughed slightly and that laughed formed into a sob
"T-there's a song..."
"Molly, you need to stop talking, it will help"
"No Sherlock...please" Sherlock looked at her soft eyes and nodded, letting her continue
"I-it's called little fall of rain"
"Molly..."
"And s-she says h-how a little f-fall of rain, can h-hardly hurt h-her now" Sherlock kissed her forehead softly as he could
"It won't hurt you, I'm here now, that's all you need to know" Molly cried again, her cheeks stained
"And you will k-keep me s-safe" she sung in a whisper
"I swear" Molly smiled. Sherlock could not have wished for her to die any other way. In his arms smiling, he wished though that they could have been older and they had lived a happy life together. Sherlock just looked down at Molly's body
"You take care of Redbeard now ok?" there was no reply
"Make sure he's a good boy like he always is" his voice was breaking
"And give him some treats" he kissed her soft pale lips
"I'll be expecting you's two waiting for me when it's my time" he cried burying his face in her shoulder
"I never expected us to part like this" he whispered and at that, he kissed her lips softly again, imagining himself that her lips were actually warm and not cold and rang the only person he knew would help write now, John.