A/N: For the April 6th prompt - "Write what you'll miss when you die." Rated K.
"What are you going to miss most?" Molly asked.
It was the morning after Sherlock's "death," and she was still reeling. Molly could only imagine what Sherlock's state of mind was, mainly because he'd barely said a word since she snuck him into her flat a few hours after his fall. He'd locked himself in her bedroom and didn't come out until an hour ago.
Sherlock was seated at her peninsula, digging into his steak and eggs, his second cup of coffee in front of him. He looked up at her, confused. "About what?"
"About being, well, alive. Things are going to be very different for you now, until you take down Moriarty's web."
He sighed quietly. "I was trying not to dwell on that."
Molly swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't-"
"John, Mrs. Hudson, Graham, Baker Street, and my violin."
Not me? "I'll keep an eye on all of them for you."
He didn't say anything for a moment. "Thank you."
Sherlock was gone when Molly woke up the next morning. He didn't even say goodbye. I guess he was done needing me. When she went to her bedroom, she noticed a folded note on her jewelry box. With suddenly trembling hands, she unfolded it.
Molly,
I'm not going to miss you because a part of you will always be with me – I took one of your lockets and a lock of your hair while you slept. I'll text you whenever I can. Be safe. Take care of yourself.
I'll see you when all of this is over and we can talk about living arrangements. Yours have to change. My bed is more than big enough for two.
I love you, Molly Hooper.
Sherlock
She felt happy tears slide down her face as she clutched the note to her heart. Oh, Sherlock…