St. Barts. Sherlock Holmes

I owe you a fall, Sherlock, I owe you a fall…..

With that Moriarty left 221B. In his place was left an apple that he'd been playing with. Sherlock picked it up to see the carved three initials.

I.O.U.

Why did Moriarty carve those initials? He didn't need to emphasize his intended destruction of Sherlock Holmes. He'd made that point perfectly clear ever since their encounter from the pool. His choice of words was confusing too. I owe you… It sounded as if Moriarty was doing some kind of favor.

"What did you mean I.O.U.?"

Molly's voice interrupted Sherlock's thoughts. He realized he had been muttering without noticing. Molly knew that this was his habit when thinking. He was sure - although he didn't remember – that he uttered a lot under his breath when he was working in her lab. He didn't see why she felt the need to question it this time when she clearly knew that it was not addressed to her. Just wanting to make conversations, as usual, a tiny part of his mind remarked as the rest of his brain focused on the 300 possible materials that glycerol molecule could be.

He thought making a curt reply and accusing her motives to make conversations would shut her up but Molly was insistent this time.

"You're a bit like my dad. He's dead. Oh, sorry…"

Oh, dear god she was talking about her father. Was she going to relate her entire family history in front of him? He didn't have time for her silly chattering, He had a task that was much more important-not to mention far more interesting-than her talk.

Then she said something that made Sherlock tear his eyes from the microscope and look at her. Molly did not look nervous as she used to whenever Sherlock looked at her straight in the eye. Sherlock had never seen Molly like this before. She asked Sherlock whether he was okay as if her life depended on his answer.

"Don't just say you are because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no one can see you."

Her sentence didn't make sense. First of all, Sherlock wasn't feeling sad or happy or any kind of sentiment for that matter. However, he voiced only his second reason.

"You can see me." To which she replied, "I don't count."

When Molly quickly left the room with an excuse of getting snacks, Sherlock understood her words perfectly well. Ever since his encounter with Moriarty, the initials I.O.U. never left his mind for a second. However, he didn't let John see this. John was observant enough to detect that something was bothering the detective. He didn't want John to notice that. He would constantly irritate him by asking him whether he was okay, not to mention being concerned overly about it. Sherlock didn't want John to worry about the 'final problem' as Moriarty put it. That matter was between him and Moriarty, and Sherlock would see to it that John would not get involved in it.

The surprising thing was, Molly noticed this. His subtle, unconscious efforts to leave John oblivious to the final problem He had only noticed it just now, when Molly pointed it out. Was she normally this observant? He had underestimated….no. He had not underestimated her, to be more exact, he didn't think about her that much until now.

John called to him and he immediately rearranged his face as if he had not been interrupted in his work for two hours. He really changed his features when John was looking at him, How come he didn't realize it and Molly did? Was this sentiment? He didn't do sentiment. He wondered that's why Molly noticed and he didn't.

Then John showed him the bread crumbs-the glycerol molecules were PGPR!-and all thoughts about Molly and I.O.U. were shifted out of his concerns.

St. Barts. Molly Hooper

"I… owe….. you."

Molly knew that Sherlock's words were not meant for her, though it was true. Sherlock owed Molly a lot. For one thing, he owed her lunch. She hadn't eaten anything since morning and Sherlock whisked her off from a lunch date that she would gladly have attended. She sighed inwardly as she thought how she would have to clean up the lab afterwards. Whenever Sherlock used her lab or her morgue the place was littered with discarded samples, used flasks, and crumpled bits of paper. There was one time when he broke the lab's microscope and she was the one who paid for it, and he didn't even notice that it was replaced with a new one next time he visited the lab.

Molly did anything for Sherlock Holmes, regardless of her schedule, her work and her feelings. No matter how he hurt her with his rude remarks or his blunt attitude, no matter how many times he got her to risk losing her job in order to grant his wishes, she always helped Sherlock without expecting anything in return. Sherlock was very much indebted to Molly Hooper and she was sure he didn't put much thought to it. So she was a little surprised when he said 'I owe you' (to her?) and not that much surprised when he just claimed it as a mental note. Sherlock was Sherlock. He wouldn't suddenly change his attitude towards her. Sherlock would never admit to Molly that he owed her, even though he did say it.

Cemetery. John Watson

"I was so alone before I met you."

John remembered when he told Ella, his therapist, that nothing happened to him. It felt like he left his life back in the battlefields of Afghanistan. He felt like an empty shell. It was ironic. The war was too horrible that he spent every waking moment wishing he could go back to normal life. When he retired however, he found it too peaceful, too empty. The war had changed him. The horrors of the war haunted him, but he had nothing left once those horrors were gone.

"Must have seen a lot of injuries then, violent deaths. Must have had a trouble too."

"Yes, enough for a lifetime, far too much."

"Want to see some more?"

"Oh god, yes."

To John Watson, living with Sherlock Holmes was a miracle. He was never bored with Sherlock around. He never had to face the fears within. His friend was constantly looking for trouble. John continued to see violent and tragic deaths as he followed Sherlock with his cases. Despite telling Sherlock that he had seen enough deaths for a life time, he eagerly answered that he wanted more of it. He felt painful emotions whenever he witnessed the tragedies behind deaths that Sherlock investigated. He was used to these kinds of sentiments from his military experience, but still he felt the pains. John wasn't addicted to deaths as Sherlock was addicted to his cases and cigarettes. He just wanted to accept the world's worst parts as well as the best parts. This helped him accept the horrors of the war hidden inside his memories. Terrible things just happen, and just tearing those things from your life wouldn't do you any good because that would leave a hole in there, a large, gaping hole that gnawed the rest your life. John learned this valuable lesson time and time again as Sherlock continued to solve case after case. Really, Sherlock Holmes was the most miraculous thing that could ever have happened to John Watson.

"I owe you so much." John said to the gravestone of Sherlock Holmes as he thought just how much his friend has done to him, to his life. This feeling of indebtedness was dominant during his relationship with Sherlock, no matter how much John complained about having to put up with many of his friend's annoying habits. And he never got to say a proper thank you until too late.

So I know that I may be too selfish and ungrateful, I may be asking too much…

"but please….. there's just one more thing, one more thing, one more miracle for me, Sherlock, would you do that just for me?"

John tried to fight back the tears, the lump in his throat as he voiced his wish for one last miracle of Sherlock Holmes.

"Don't be dead."