Note: you might see this and other stories published in my personal blog (Just in case you think I'm stealing it. I'm not stealing, this is my work).

Part I

Life goes on.

After Sherlock's death Molly couldn't bear to be working on the mortuary. She decided to get another job in a travel agency (not her sort of thing).She tried to live her life as good as possible but the thought of Sherlock was always present, everywhere she went she could always see something that reminded her of him.

Once in a while she visited John and Mrs. Hudson. John didn't say much, he was working at a hospital and he met someone. And even though he said he was happy now you could see the sadness in his eyes. Mrs. Hudson would talk a lot, specially of how much she missed Sherlock even the gunshots on the wall.

"It's a shame...how he ended his life. God knows how much I miss him, my dear Sherlock."

Mrs. Hudson kept on talking and talking and Molly had enough with her own thoughts so she decided to go home.

"Uhm I really have to go Mrs. Hudson, See you next time."

Molly didn't want to hear about it anymore. She missed Sherlock too, as much as her...as much as John. She loved Sherlock even though she knew sometimes he used her. She loved him, missed him and needed him more than anyone else.

In the last days she wanted to help him but didn't know how. One day she arrived to the mortuary and one of her colleagues stared at her not daring to speak.

"Have you read the papers?"

"No, no I haven't...why?

"The freak...he's dead"

"Wh- what?

"He killed himself, jumped off the roof of the hospital they say."

"It cannot be, I don't want to hear anymore"

"It's true, the freak is lying dead there in ..."

"Sherlock"

"What?"

"His name was Sherlock"

Said this, she left and never came back.

Molly felt an endless guilt for not being able to help Sherlock and yet she felt something that not everything was quite right about that fatal day. But again she felt powerless and useless and people didn't listen to her much. She tried to talk a couple of times with Lestrade but he refused to go deep in the case. "It was a matter of time Molly, we all knew he'll come to this" he said. So she went home and didn't say much more about it.

She tried to investigate by herself but it always led to the same, so she quit and she tried to deal with Sherlock's death as good as she could.

She went to the cemetery every month to leave flowers in Sherlock's tomb. She used to sit there and talk for hours and hours straight, it didn't matter if it was raining or snowing she was there, she needed to be there.

"You know I always liked you...I had feelings for you. Not that it mattered. Is just I would have liked to tell you...that you were loved. That...I...loved you.