A/N: This is a bit sad and I'm sorry about that.

(Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or Sherlock if I did Mary would most certainly not have died!)

John Watson was laying in his wife's arms. A position he had been in many times before. But right now it was different. There was a hole in his chest and blood was dripping down on Mary's hand on the aquarium floor.

"Everything is going to be alright, darling," Mary assured him, pressing her other hand down on his wound.

"Come on, nurse. You can do better than that," he laughed in pain. "Sherlock?" he asked looking up at his best friend. The detective stepped a little closer. Tears in his eyes. Mary had never seen him cry.

"Yes?" he choked. "You were… the… best friend… anyone… could ask for,", John told him gasping for air.

"So were you," Sherlock said, nodding. He blinked a few tears away. "Take care of them… will you?" John asked.

"Yes, I promise," the detective vowed to his friend. He could hardly refuse.

"John, darling. Just hold on for a few more minutes. It's gonna be alright," Mary said, fighting the tears. She knew nothing was going to be alright in a few minutes. So did John.

"You were my whole world," John began. "No no. Shhhh, John-" Mary tried to silence him.

"You gave me everything… I could ever ask for..." Tears rushed down Mary's cheeks. "Don't talk like this is the end!" Mary pressed her hand harder on John's wound. If she was hurting him, he didn't show it. She just wanted the bleeding to stop.

"We've just had our first child. We've just hand our first wedding anniversary..." Mary's voice broke when she saw a few silent tears roll down John's cheeks. "I want to have many more firsts with you. This can't be the end." John fumbled trying to find Mary's hand. When he did he gave it a tiny squeeze.

"I love you… Mary Watson."

"I love you too," she whispered, not even sure if he could hear her. "I'm sorry for not telling you," she said. "I should have told you about A.G.R.A. in the beginning. It was wrong of me I'm-"

"Stop apologizing. You don't have to… I forgive you… because without you… I'm not sure I would have survived… those rough two years… thank you." John squeezed her hand and offered her a sad broken smile.

"John, darling just hold on a little while longer, okay? The ambulance is on it's way. Right, Sherlock?" Mary looked up at her friend. He had never seen her this scared. This broken. This fragile. She was looking at him like he was the last bit of hope she was holding on to. Like she would break if he told her that no ambulance would get there in time.

"Right. That's right," he stammered. Mary nodded. "See… everything's gonna be just fine, darling. It's gonna be okay." She was in shock. She wasn't thinking straight. Sherlock knew it. She knew it. But she couldn't get herself to believe that this was the end. That she wouldn't grow old with the love of her life. But that their ways should part now. 30 years too early.

"I want you to know that being Mary Watson was the only life worth living," she told him firmly, trying to keep it together. John smiled sadly. "It really was." She nodded a few times. She couldn't see anything because of all the tears streaming down her face. John lifted his hand up towards her cheek and wiped the tears away.

"You look really pretty," the husband told his wife smiling through the pain. Mary gave him a small chuckle. His hand dropped but never let go of hers. Mary leaned her forehead against his. "It's gonna be alright, you hear me? Darling, everything is gonna be alright." Her voice was trembling and only just above a whisper.

"Tell Rosie I love her... One day she'll understand. You have to tell her the truth… about what happened… Okay?" It took almost all his energy to utter those words.

"You can tell her yourself when we get home." Mary knew he would never get home. She knew it better than anyone else. She knew what it looked like when a person was dying. She knew what it looked like when the light faded from their eyes after they took their last breath. She just never thought she'd have to see this happening to John.

"Mary…"

"Shhhhh, darling. Everything's fine. It's all good. Stop talking. You have to stay alive. You have to! I can't live without-" her voice broke. "Without you…" she choked out. Almost afraid of the words.

"I… love… you," John whispered and gave Mary's hand a final squeeze. Those were the last words John Watson said to his wife.

"John? John?" Mary yelled nervously, desperately trying to find his pulse. "No! No! Come back! John you can't leave me! John come back!" She moved him so he was laying on the floor ready to perform CPR. She knew it was useless. Two hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away.

"Mary…" he whispered.

"No! I can't just leave him there. We have to save him," she cried, tears streaming down her face. Sherlock turned her around.

"Mary listen to me. He's not coming back. John is not coming back-" his voice broke. Mary's breathing slowed down and her sobbing stopped. She looked Sherlock directly in the eyes.

"Mary, you have to be strong now, okay? For Rosie. She will need you now. You can't give up. Do you hear me?" the detective asked, gripping her shoulders a little tighter. Mary nodded without saying anything.

"Okay," Sherlock said carefully. He pulled her into a hug. He felt her tears through his shirt. "It's alright to cry. It's okay." He pulled her as close to him as possible, needing the comfort as much as she did. She pulled him down on the floor with her. She grabbed onto Sherlock's shirt and pulled him even closer. His tears landed on the top of her head. After a while the ambulance arrived. They didn't bother to get up. But when they were about to take him away, Mary's head snatched up.

"No!" she yelled. "You can't take him away-" her voice broke. "You can't!" She was leaning over him, grabbing his hand. Sherlock stood behind her.

"Mary… it's going to be okay. Do you hear me? They are just gonna take him away and clean him up. Is that okay?" Mary looked over at her husband and then at Sherlock. She nodded slowly.

"Okay…" she whispered. She leaned against Sherlock and let him put his arm around her as she watched the doctors take her husband away. "It's okay", Sherlock told her. "No it's not", Mary cried. "No… but it is what it is," Sherlock Holmes told Mary Watson as he watched the paramedics carry the fallen soldier from the battlefield.

THE END

A/N: I do feel terribly sorry for writing this but if it's any consolation I did shed a few tears myself.