Everything had been perfectly fine until that moment.

For a split second Sherlock stood in shock, just as he was just seconds previously, before collapsing against John.

Now, this split second was a split second to John, but Sherlock's mind worked lightning fast. This split second was where John began to realize the horrible truth, and where Sherlock finally faced the horrible truth that he had so carefully prepared his mind for.

Obviously it wasn't ideal, but it was necessary. Sherlock knew who the killer was, and the killer knew that. Sherlock also knew that the killer was so desperate not to be caught that he was going to murder Sherlock if he had to. But, just to keep the detective aware and himself safe, he had a warning system- if Sherlock came too close to informing the police, one by one, as a reminder, his friends -his few friends- would be targeted. This could be avoided only by Sherlock sacrificing himself, instead. Sherlock had thought long and hard about this. If he were to tell, his friends would be the victims. Or he could go along with his plan and he would be the victim- the only victim, and the case would be solved.

As much as it tore him apart to force his companions into reliving the memories they had once experienced as a false, he saw no other choice. He valued their lives over his own.

Sherlock was going to die to save his friends.

Clutching onto John's jacket, he forced himself into consciousness, to endure the pain, until the very last second. And it wasn't the sheer pain of the shot which hurt him, no- it was the look of complete shock and devastation on John's face, which was soon to be spread to the other people he cared about most in his life, which made him feel like his heart had finally been broken in two, after so many years of surviving the fractures he himself had caused.

He reminded himself over and over again why he had done this- his friends were safe, the police would be here any minute now. Repeating the results in his head was all he could do.

"NO."

The words echoed in Sherlock's ears as he could feel everything shutting down within him.

"No, no, Sherlock, no, please no. Christ, Sherlock." John, unable to support his friend's weight any longer, fell to his knees with Sherlock across them. He couldn't bare to look at the expression on John's face, but forced himself to.

"It's okay, John, really." The words took a great deal of effort to say between heaving breaths, the pain becoming more numbing by the second as Sherlock felt a tear from his friend fall upon his face.

"No, it's NOT okay!" John yelled, not in anger with Sherlock, but the fact that there was nothing he could do but try and give him hope for something he probably wouldn't be fooled by. "Stay with me, Sherlock, stay with me, you're going to be fine, we can- I can fix this."

They both knew it was a lie. Sherlock managed a sad smile, ignoring the pain in his now broken body- his broken heart. "I'd like to believe that."

"Sherlock, please, you can't- just don't-"

John was sobbing, pleading, even after there was no hope. Sherlock cursed at himself inwardly; did he have to do this? Cause his friends this much pain when they had already been through it once, but this time would be faced with truth? But deep down, he knew: the answer was yes, it was pain to his friends rather than death to them.

With effort, he lifted his hand to John's face, turning it towards his. The pain in his chest seemed less than the pain in his heart as he looked into his friend's eyes, now filled with despair.

"I'm sorry, John, I'm so sorry." Teas were now starting to fill Sherlock's eyes, and one spilled over and down his cheek as he continued, voice breaking. "It's not a trick this time."

John hugged Sherlock tightly, at a loss of any more words to say and things to do. All he could do was cry, it seemed, as his friend's life faded.

Using the last of his strength, Sherlock shifted the paper he had been clutching in his fist to between his fingers as he returned John's embrace.

Everything was fading. His strength, the light, his life, the sounds of John's shuddering cries.

One last word, Sherlock willed. One last word, please, let there just be enough.

"Goodbye," he whispered as the last of it left, as the dark overtook him, and John's embrace grew tighter around him for the last time.

Even after Sherlock's arms fell limp around him… John didn't let go.

John had lost track of time. Was it seconds, or hours, or days he had been here, sobbing over Sherlock's shoulder?

He ignored any worries messages that came from his phone over the time he had been here, on the floor, crying.

There had been nothing left to do but cry. John sobbed until there were no more tears to cry, even though it felt he could go on forever.

He sat in silence as Sherlock's body lay before him. Sherlock could have been asleep; he was so peaceful even after all the pain he had been through, even apart from the crimson stain upon his chest.

It soon came to John's notice that in Sherlock's one ungloved hand, there lay limply a small piece of paper with John's name on the front. He hurriedly unfolded it.

"John.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for this. I'm sorry for everything, for everyone, for anything I've done wrong. Please, I hope you'll forgive me.

I won't have time to say this when the time comes, but… I did this for you, for all of my few friends- the killer was after either me or all of you if I said anything to the police. They should be coming soon to arrest him. I wish you'll forgive me for this, too.

I knew I was going to die, but I'd rather me than any of you.

So thank you, John, and everyone else- Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, Lestrade, even people like Anderson and Donovan. I don't know how you put up with me and I doubt your lives will be any more chaotic with me gone, but I guess that's good, for the most part. I know you'll miss me, and the hardest part about this wasn't… going, but watching your reaction and imagining everyone else's, and knowing I'd never see you again.

I don't know what to say but… thank you. Really. For everything you and the few people who stood by me have done.

I'm sorry, I know this is late, but, well…

I love you, John Watson. You're my best friend and I don't know what my life would be without you.

I'm not good with goodbyes, but I hope this was good enough for a high-functioning sociopath like me. I'll miss you all so much.

Thank you.

Sherlock"

Welp. Seeing as the first part was actually my top story (WOW THANKS GUYS SERIOUSLY), I had another idea and actually went through with it. Yeet. I know I said I probably wouldn't post another part, but I had enjoyed watching people suffer, so... enjoy the feels. Also enjoy the chapter that's four times as long as the previous one (it was supposed to be a one shot okay XD).