He's running, bullets flying around his head. He's been running like this for a while now, and despite his excellent condition he's starting to get tired. "In here, John!" He points towards a dark alley and then runs into it himself before halting and resting his head against the wall. He doesn't realise his mistake until he turns his head to smile at John. Oh, of course. John isn't here. John is at home, with Mary, probably watching some tv or engaging in some other dumb activity. Sherlock sighs and closes his eyes, deliberately failing to notice the tall grinning man entering the dirty alley.

An hour later, John was just setting up the kitchen table for dinner when there came a knock on the door. "I'll get that, shall I?" Mary said, smiling at her husband.

Mary was surprised to see Molly, surprised to see her at this hour, or even at all. Molly wasn't one to visit people often. Mary silently noted how exhausted she looked before politely inviting her in. Upon hearing Molly's voice, John walked in, eyeing her curiously. What could possibly bring Molly to their apartment at this hour, he wondered?

Molly smiled sadly at the two.

"Hi..Mary, John…I think you better sit down for a second."

John remained standing, trying to read Molly's expression. "What's the matter?"

Molly hated this. Hated to be the one to break this news to John, hated seeing him in his cozy flat with his beaming wife, so happy and innocent, still so blissfully ignorant.

"Oh John…I'm so sorry. Sherlock…it- it was just a stupid case, such a small stupid case. There were so many bullets, John. He didn't stand a chance. He –" She hesitated, unable to say it out loud. Unable to look at John and see his world shatter.

"No". John collapsed onto the couch, Mary by his side. "No, he didn't. He couldn't", he answered to what Molly hadn't dared say out loud. "It'll be just another trick. Like last time. Just one of his magic tricks again."

Molly shaked her head softly. "I saw him. I'm sorry".

"How?"

"I don't know. He was getting so reckless lately- I tried to warn him, but it's as if he-" Molly interrupted herself. John didn't need to hear this.

"As if he what?" He couldn't help his voice shaking, couldn't help the panic rising up in his throat.

Molly sighed. "As if he didn't even care about his own life anymore"

Mary squeezed her husband's hand lightly while guilt and sorrow came crashing into John like a train that can't be stopped. "Oh god". He looked at Mary for something, anything, a simple word from her to wake him up, to tell him he was dreaming, that this wasn't real, that this couldn't be real.

Mary couldn't return his gaze and looked up to Molly instead. "Molly, do you have anywhere to go? Anyone to-"?

"Yeah, didn't John tell you? Got engaged last month. I'll leave you alone" Alone in your grief, she thought, but couldn't form the words. Couldn't bear the thought of John grieving for Sherlock once more, with no possibility of a happy ending this time.

"You don't have to go, Molly", John said softly and she tried to smile at him. "I'm going", she replied.

John kept staring at the closed door for a while before covering his eyes with his hands, still not quite sure whether he believed in what he had just heard. Mary rubbed his back softly while John rested his head on her shoulder and started weeping silently.

Mary had gone to bed a couple of hours earlier, but John couldn't sleep. How could he possibly sleep with that sense of fear and panic constantly hovering around the surface of his mind? Fear, of what? Whatever he could fear had already happened anyway. No use for it now. He sat on the couch drinking one glass of wine after the other, already verging on drunk, but still quite unable to drown his loss. Mary walked in sleepily to see where he was and took the scene in with a pang of pity. Her John doesn't drink. Not once. Yet here he was, eyes unfocused and an empty glass of wine slightly trembling in his hands. "John, darling. Please come up with me", Mary begged.

John didn't look at her, but continued staring in front of him as he started to speak. Mary was surprised to hear how steady his voice was.

"He didn't call or text that often anymore, did you know? But neither did I. God, when was the last time we even got on a case together? I thought he was getting over it, but he must have thought I forgot about him. God, Mary, he died, and I wasn't there"

"You couldn't have known.", Mary whispered softly.

John scoffed quietly and looked up at her. "I knew him for 7 years, Mary. I should have known better. I should have been there with him, should have saved him, or died alongside him. He died alone, Mary. He fucking went off and died while I was sitting here watching tv with you." Tears were now streaming soundlessly over his cheeks, but he didn't bother wiping them off.

Mary sat next to him and took his free hand in hers, gently rubbing his knuckles. John sighed.

"He saved me when I was in a bad place, and now I couldn't save him"

"Don't do this to yourself, John. There was nothing you could do."

"Wasn't there? Shouldn't I have paid more attention to him? You heard Molly, he was getting reckless and I never even noticed. How could I not have noticed?"

"You don't know whether he was being reckless. It could have been just an accident, a stupid mistake. He might have been overpowered."

"Then wouldn't it have turned out differently if I had been there?"

"You don't know. You could have been killed too."

"Yeah, well, would that be so much worse?"

Mary looked at him frightened, suddenly realizing what the death of his best friend could mean to John. "You don't mean that, John"

"Don't I?" John looked up at Mary and sighed, knowing he shouldn't have scared her. "I'm sorry, Mary. Perhaps I should go to bed." He stood up unsteadily and left, leaving Mary behind, not sure what to say, what to do.