Hello Everyone!

This is my first attempt at a Sherlock fanfiction. I really did try my best to look up any scientific info and make it as accurate as I possibly could. So please forgive me if it isn't! Also, if you know the right thing, feel free to correct me! Nicely of course. Haha

I hope you like it!

Thanks!

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These past two months have been difficult, to say the least. I have been working longer shifts at the morgue; it's been quite busy the last two weeks. John called a few times to see how I was doing and it took all the strength in me to be there for him, to show him I was hurting and in pain.

I felt selfish at this; because I wasn't in the pain that John was in, not at all. If anything I became quite irritable and wanting to go home to my wonderful flat with my wonderful cat, and Sherlock there waiting for me. Not waiting for me in the way I'd hoped, more or less occupying. But it's nice to not go home to an empty flat.

I remember the day when Sherlock asked for my help. I was surprised that he would confide in me so much, more so than John, it seemed. But I realized, he confided in me, to protect John. I was helping him, and part of me was happy about it, but empty at the same time.

I should've known nothing would change. He sits in my living room, playing the violin I had bought him, so as to keep him occupied and look up the latest reports on my laptop of his "death" in the tabloids. Then, every so often he would sneak out at night and not come back for days. He was chasing leads on what could possibly be left of Moriarty's network.

The night it all happened still to this day seemed all too surreal. I was working late, finishing up my last autopsy report. I went to lock my office and head towards the morgue doors, when his voice startled me.

"You were wrong, you know…" He said to me, I looked at him sitting on the stool at one of the work stations in the lab.

"You do count. You've always counted, and I've always trusted you." Ah yes, from early this evening… we had a talk, and well… I was frankly surprised I handed as well as I did.

Sherlock came in interrupting my lunch date, as he told me to cancel and held up two bags of Crips, implying I would be having lunch with him. After deducing my horrible choice in men, referring to the one called Jim, the guy from IT. I defended myself and told him we only went on three dates and that I ended it. He scoffed and told me that this Jim, was Jim Moriarty. The one who broke in and stole the crown jewels, opening the vault at the Bank of London, and releasing all the cells at Pentoville.

We worked in the lab analyzing the oil prints left behind as a clue for Sherlock by one of the children who had been kidnapped, per Moriarty's instructions, it seemed.

I watched him; he stared through the microscope, with an intense look in his eyes… I know he hated conversation, but… oh to hell with him…

"You know… you look a bit like my dad, he's dead. Oh, sorry!" I scoffed at myself. What is wrong with me?!

"Molly, please don't feel the need to make conversation. It really isn't your area." He fired off while still looking in the microscope. The little bit of courage I clung on to was wavering, but I would not let this moment escape me.

"When he was dying, He was always cheerful. He was lovely. Except when he thought no one could see. I saw him once, he looked sad."

"Molly…"

"You look sad… when you think he can't see you." He took his eyes off the microscope, and focused them on John.

"Are you okay? And… don't just say you are, because I know what that means, looking sad when no one can see you…"

He looked away from the microscope and focused on me with full attention.

"You can see me."

"I don't count." I said plainly, because I believed it to be true. I do not in Sherlock's world… I'm not even on his radar.

He looked at me with what I thought was surprise, but he had to know his own feelings? Or shall I say lack of. No matter what… I would still love him, and that joyed and killed me inside all the same.

"What I'm trying to say is that… if there's anything you need… anything at all, you can have me… I just mean, I mean… if there's anything you need—it's fine." I finished. Good job keeping cool, Molly.

"But what could I need from you?" He asked.

"Nothing, I don't know… but you could probably say 'thank you' actually…"

"…Thank…you." He finished. That took a lot of work on his part, I could tell. It was becoming tense now, and I didn't want this conversation to steer into a more bad direction so I broke silence.

"I'm just going to go and get some crisps. Do you want anything? It's okay - I know you don't." I said while heading towards the door.

"Well actually, maybe I'll—"

"I know you don't." I finished and walked out of the lab.

Back to later that night, He told me I counted, what had changed in all that time? I could tell there was something wrong with him, his voice was even and serious, he didn't look at me, yet… but I knew what he was saying was true.

"Tell me what's wrong." I said to him, fear growing inside of me with every passing second.

"Molly…I think I'm going to die." He looked to me finally. His eyes were glassy; I had never seen such emotion in his eyes. He was holding back tears. He looked genuinely scared. The fear inside of me only grew more and more.

"What do you need?" I said instantly.

"If I wasn't everything you think I am, or everything I think I am, would you still want to help me?" He looked down at me, coming closer.

"What do you need?" I had no reason to hesitate. I know in my mind and in my heart I would do anything for the man in front of me—especially anything to save his life.

"You." He said to me. My heart jumped. He was so close to me, I could feel his breath.

He told me of the situation and said that he had an idea. He would fake his own death and I would help him.

"Molly, I need you to come up with a chemical compound that could fool John into thinking I am dead; something that could possibly slow down my pulse and make it nearly undetectable." He looked at me.

"I understand." I took notes down and possibly came up with an idea for the compound. I didn't really have a lot of time, no more than three hours it seemed, but I had to do this… I have to do this for him.

"Good. There will be a supply truck outside the front of Bart's. I will jump off the roof, and slowly fall on the ground as you administer the dose to me and pour some of my blood on me and around my body. You should have roughly 45 seconds to complete the task, so the compound has to be fast acting."

"Right." I wrote down every little possible detail that I could need. My mind raced at what I could possibly mix. I would need to come up with some sort of medication to drastically lower his norepinephrine and epinephrine to help slow the heart rate, or I could give him a heavy dose of blood pressure medication mixed with a pain killer. My mind boggled at what concoction I would make. I would have to test it of course, so a lab rat will do. I do hate it, but the rat will be fine.

"Molly, I will need to call John, John will have to be there." He said as his eyes lowered to his hands.

"You're going to make him watch?" I sounded as if I had jumped out of my own skin.

"Sherlock, you can't do that to him! It would surely kill him inside." I said fighting back the tears that I want to shed for John, his best friend.

"It has to be this way, Molly. I need him to believe that I am dead. I need him to know of no chance of survival. It has to be this way." His face softened as he looked up to me.

I should know that this will be difficult for him. He does care for his friends deeply, so much so that he is willing to "die" for them, he probably truly would as we both have no idea that this experiment may work, but we will try.

I looked at him softly, I felt horrible. I am glad that I can be of help though.

"I must call him now Molly, could you possibly do me a favor and call one of your friends to have them call John stating that Mrs. Hudson has been shot, I need him to be pulled away from here. That would definitely do it." He said. I could see him calculating in his head the probability of this working.

I nodded and was about to head off into the other lab to create what I needed for his compound, for his death. Before I left, I took some blood from him, to spill onto the street, leaving him quite light headed I'm sure. As I was leaving for the lab Sherlock spoke to me.

"Molly?"

"Yes Sherlock?" I smiled to him.

"…Thank you… for everything." His face softened and shown a small smile tugging at his lips. I giggled and ran over to him to give him a small hug and my sight became blurry, before I left, I gave him a small peck on the cheek; much to his surprise.

"See you on the other side, Sherlock." Then I left.