The cold midnight air is cooling you down, your fingers feel numb, even in the pockets of your gray jacket. Your nose seems red and so do your ears, but you just keep walking. Nothing could stop you from getting to your destination. You curl your arms around your upper body, and feel the burning from the cuts and press your wrist even tighter to your ribcage, drowning in the bittersweet pain.

Somehow you manage to get into St. Barts, into the elevator and up to the roof without anyone noticing you. You slowly reach the edge of the rooftop, your head falls back and you look up at the stars. You haven't seen them in a while, they were always hidden away behind thick clouds. Now you watched them, searching for constellations you learned at school. A big smile spreads upon your face you lift your hands to either side and start laughing like a maniac. You remember the times when life was easy, when your mum was still alive, before she left you with that dickhead of a step-father. The times you had friends who you spent time with, a mother that loved you no matter what, and everything was simply rainbows and unicorns. Another bitter laugh escapes your lips when you think how everything turned upside down so easily, but that's just life, it will always change, it'll get better and then worse again. That's as sure as the sun rising in the morning, and the stars coming out at night.

But that doesn't matter anymore. You're done with it. You have been through so much bullshit, that the good things don't soften all the bad things that happened to you. You are unbelievably grateful for the time you could spent with John and Sherlock. You've been happy, with them. Now it's time to go.

"Goodbye", you whisper as you take the last step towards the edge of the building. The lights around you blurr, and the darkness takes to main part in your sight. You feel the icy wind dragging at your clothes. You close your eyes. The fall make's it impossible to breath, and you just let go. Every strength and will-power has left your body and you feel numb and heavy, as you fall down the rooftop. Behind your closed eyelids, pictures of Sherlock smiling and John laughing play on repeat. You smile before you hit the hard ground of the sidewalk. An enormous pain shoots from your had to your toes. You want to curl yourself into a ball but your to weak to even open your eyes. You can hear people screaming around you, and you feel a lot of fingers on your body until suddenly everything stops and you are no more.

The annoying sound of his ring tone wakes Sherlock up in the middle of the night. Eyes firmly shut and face pressed against the pillow he reaches for the phone in his pocket. He considers shutting it of, but decides against it. "What?",he mumbles sleepily.

"Sherlock, we- I'm sorry. We need your help." says the voice at the other end, trembling lightly.

Sherlock sits up from his bed. His forehead frowns, with one hand he grabs the phone tightly with the other he shakes John awake who's up immediately after he sees the look on Sherlock's face.

"What happened?", Sherlock asks with his teeth clenched hard.

"Ehm," stutters Lestrade,"there's a body. We...we need you to confirm their identity"

"No", escapes John's mouth as he realizes that Abby's not longer in the apartment.

"Who?" Sherlock asks his teeth still tight and his fists grabbing the blankets.

There's a long and painful pause, until Lestrade continues with that one word that neither of them want to hear. "Abby."

With that Sherlock throws the phone against the wall and smashes it beyond repair.

"No, no, no!" he whispers painfully.

"C'mon, Sherlock." John tries to calm him down, but it's not working.

Sherlock's blue eyes are drowning in tears and his face turned as pale as the blankets. Also John stops moving and tries to hold back the tears that keep rushing into his eyes. The sit in the bed for a while longer until they are both sure, not to start crying again. Sherlock is the first to stand up, but without the pep he usually has. He's about to get out the door as he catches sight of a with piece of paper on the nightstand. He nearly runs towards it and rips it open and reads it with John by his side:

Dear, John and Sherlock

thank you for looking after me for so long. I'm sorry that I'm such a failure, and I don't want to disappoint you even more. I decided to leave this place that only caused me pain and heartbreak. I'm sorry. None of this is your fault, promise. Thanks for caring for me and showing me how it feels to be loved again. I just can't keep doing that to me and you. I'm just done with fighting and trying...

You could've done nothing to change my decision.

You made my life a lot better, thank you for that, but I can't take it any longer. I have to leave. I'm sorry. I will remember every minute that I had the fortune to spend with you.

Take care of Mrs. Hudson and please don't ever change.

I love you.

-Abby