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Amelia Pond felt tears in her eyes, but she didn't care. Sherlock layed on the ground, gasping and bleeding. He had been shot and he was dying right in front of her. She couldn't imagine life without him. She loved him with all of her heart and now he was dying. She puts pressure on the wound, blood seeping through her fingers in a matter of seconds.
She takes a deep breath trying to stay calm. After a few minutes of trying to stop the bleeding and failing, Sherlock put his shaking hand over her's. She looks into his blue eyes, noticing they were wet with tears also.
"Amy, stop." He croaks weakly.
"No, Sherlock, I have to save you!" She snaps, putting heavier pressure on the wound. He grabs her hand, intertwining it with his. She stops, wiping her running nose. He brushes a tear away gently.
"Don't cry, Amelia." He says so sweetly and lovingly, as if he wasn't dying. She smiles through her tears.
"But you're dying and I won't be able to see you again." She answers, terror creeping in.
"Oh, Amy, my princesses. My fairy tale." He whispers gently. He strokes her face and she hangs onto his hand, the grip loosening. "I love you."
"I love you too." She sniffles.
"I was planning on doing something today." He coughs, his voice becoming weaker.
"What was it?" His breathing was much slower now.
"I was going to ask you to marry me." He answers, smiling.
Amy feels as her heart shatters.
Sherlock reaches into his pocket, handing her a blue box.
"Amelia Pond, would you have been my wife?" She nods, pulling the box and his hand to her heart.
"Yes, I would have spent the rest of my life with you, Sherlock." It was the one of truest words she's ever spoken. Sherlock smiles and laughs, his eyes lighting up for a moment.
"I know you would have." He smiles, his blue eyes closing for good.
With that, it was the end of Sherlock Holmes.
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