Stop This

Sherlock's feet balanced precariously on the stone ledge of St. Bart's, looking down over the street before sending John the signal.

A black taxi pulled into his line of vision, a very confused looking Molly Hooper stepping out just as her phone rang.

"Molly." Sherlock's deep baritone came across the line, greeting her ears.

"Sherlock? What are you playing at? I'm coming in." She said, her tone annoyed as she blew out a sigh.

"No, Molly look up." He commanded, her eyes widening in shock as she stared up at him.

"Sherlock get down!" Molly said, surprise permeating her tone, "I'm coming up there. Get the hell down sherlock!" From her distance she could see the almost imperceivable shake of his head.

"Stay where you are!" He half-yelled, the urgency in his voice very real and very much there. "Don't move!"

"What are you doing sherlock..." She whispered across the line.

"This is all a trick. A magic trick. I was never real, none of the things I ever did were real. The stories were true, Molly Hooper." His voice quieter now, almost pleading with her.

"Sherlock, I don't understand.. How could you have deduced me so quickly? How? My first day at the hospital you knew. You knew how I'd taken my coffee that morning, how I'd fell, face first, over the side of the couch because my shoe was untied. You knew I had woken up late.. And sherlock I've seen you do it to people other than me." She whispered, the knot in her stomach twisting tighter with worry.

"I researched you. I'm a fraud. Tell them Molly, tell all of them. Tell anyone you can how Sherlock Holmes was a fake." He said, his calm demeanor fading.

"Sherlock.." Molly breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, beginning to walk towards the building, stopping in her tracks a moment later.

"Molly stay. Please Molly, keep your eyes on me. Can you do that, for me?" His voice cracking a small amount at the end of his sentence, a tear slipping down his face and landing with finality on the pavement below.

"Do what?" Molly asked meekly

"That's what people do isn't it - leave a note? This phone call - it's - it's my note Molly." Sherlock muttered, tears running silently in rivulets down his face and off the end of his nose.

"Sherlock don't!" She exclaimed, her voice fracturing off into the despair hanging between them.

"Goodbye, Molly Hooper." He said, his voice softer and more gentle than she'd ever heard it in her life. She watched him toss the phone behind him and raise his arms at his sides, her throat closing up as she could do nothing but watch.

Her feet propelled her forward as she ran towards him. "SHERLOCK!" She screamed, terror lacing her tone. "SHERLOCK STOP!"

Something hard slammed into her side, knocking her to the pavement and causing her to black out for the three precious seconds when his body his the pavement, the smack seeming to echo and warp, bouncing off the walls and surrounding her in a pain she'd never known before.

"I'm a doctor!" She said, running towards him "Let me see him!" Molly yelled, tears now pouring openly down her face.

"He's my friend, he's my friend let me through!" She moaned, grief hunching her shoulders and striking her hard in the chest as her eyes fell upon the bloodied body of who she thought to be the man she loves.

"Sherlock Holmes, I-" she mumbled through her sobs, her voice catching in her throat. "I love you." She mumbled.

From around the corner, he watched her. "And I you." Sherlock mumbled, hoping that she wouldn't forget about him.