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English
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Published:
2014-04-27
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1/1
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The beauty of it.

Summary:

Sherlock has always been frustrated by the idea of a Soulname - the name of your soulmate on your wrist.
His says John, and John's says...what exactly?

Notes:

*edited 30/04*
I literally wrote this in about 20 minutes on a rather boring car journey, so the fact that it has been so well received is amazing! I've just cleaned it up a bit now I'm actually at a computer!

Thanks everyone x

(See the end of the work for other works inspired by this one.)

Work Text:

The entire premise of the Soulname frustrated Sherlock - it always had.
The very idea that he was supposed to fall in love with some stranger simply because they bore each other's names on their wrists was preposterous, or at least it was before he met John and felt a momentary flare of...something.
At first Sherlock thought he must be mistaken as this John was no more special than any of the other boring Johns he had met (and he had met many - it was an annoyingly common name), and there was no recognition on John's face upon hearing Sherlock's name.
However, Sherlock could not help wondering as John enquired as to his status (Sherlock giving his standard response of 'unetched'), before proceeding to shoot a man to save Sherlock and inserting himself into Sherlock's life.

oOo

It was not until the pool that Sherlock even spared a thought to John's Soulname, but by then it was too late - there were more urgent matters to attend to.

oOo

Sherlock could feel the game coming to a head - the press were turning against him, and now it appeared that John was too, going by his current anger, mostly directed at Sherlock.

"And now you're not even listening to me, are you? Jesus, Sherlock, if all you're going to do is lie there, you could do me the common decency of letting me have one successful date! I mean, God knows finding my Soulmate is hard enough without adding you to the mix!"

"Now you're just overreacting John. It was obvious she was not your soulmate - the name on her wrist for a start! I do not see why you continue to parade these Sarah's and Janet's though here and then insist in blaming me when they are not your soulmate! Honestly, John, without knowing your Soulname, I can hardly know better!"

"It's not as easy as that you prick!" John seemed to grind out; rolling up his sleeve to show Sherlock a messy pattern of black in lieu of a name, before storming up the stairs and slamming his door shut.

oOo

It was not until the roof that Sherlock realised he had done the very thing he had sworn never to do; he had fallen in love with John Watson.
It was not until the fall that he realised how deeply John felt for him too; seeing John collapse as he read his own name upon Sherlock's wrist.

oOo

Sherlock knew that John still visited him (or where John supposed him to lie), so he was unsurprised when he received a recording from his grave 18 months after he had left London.
What he was not prepared for was John's declaration that he was considering marriage, or indeed the story of his Soulname;

"---So, I realise I never really gave you much explanation about my Soulname, not that there is one really. I mean, thanks for not asking - I kept expecting to wake up to you inspecting it, so it meant a lot that you didn't, although really you were probably too caught up in Moriarty to care, so here goes.
I, uh, don't really know what my Soulname says - no one really does. I thought that maybe it was another language - looks kinda Arabic. When I got sent to Afghanistan, I thought it must be a sign, so when I came back...I figured I must have missed her...or him I suppose. It nearly killed me, but then I met you, and you kept my mind off it.
I've gotta tell you - seeing my name on your wrist...I really wish you had said something.
Don't get me wrong - I've got no idea what we were, or where we were heading, but I still think you should've said something.
Anyway, this isn't about you, or us. I've met someone, Sherlock. Her Soulmate's dead, and I don't really know about mine, don't know whether to hope she's sitting in my flat, or in Afghanistan...or if he's dead. I'm hoping it's the first one, but I know it's not, and I've got a horrible feeling that it was you. So if there's one thing Sherlock, for me---"

Sherlock destroyed the tape at that point - distractions were no good, emotions too painful.

oOo

Sherlock had returned, greeted by punches, hugs and awkward conversations left unsaid.
He was introduced to Mary, and introduced John to his parents, and life was almost good, but then Mary metaphorically shot him in the heart at the wedding, before shooting him literally.
There was pain, so much pain, and Sherlock was so tired - of hiding, of lying, of Mary, of everything,

oOo

John stood on the tarmac opposite him, parade rest, feelings shut away like the solider he was.
However, Sherlock couldn't do it anymore - he wasn't coming back this time, and he needed to clear his chest, tell John what needed to be said.

"You saw the name on my wrist, John. You know what it means."
"Sherlock..."
"No John, let me finish. I am telling you this now because I am leaving - you need not choose between myself and Mary. Of course, I will not delude myself to believe it's an obvious choice, but I have to hope that it would be one.
You asked me for one more thing, so I ask the same of you; do not give your child some boring, pedantic name, like my parents gave me. Name them something extraordinary, for that is what they shall be."
"'Sherlock'? How is that pedantic?"
"My name is not actually Sherlock - it is William. I changed my name after I realised it may make it easier for my Soulmate to find me, although now I realise that it was unnecessary."

With that Sherlock risked a peck on John's cheek before climbing aboard the plane, a final nod at his brother.
John returned to stand with his wife, when a sharp pain brought his attention to his wrist, and his Soulname.
There, in red, the name 'William' seemed to unravel itself from the black, before fading to a pale white, almost like a scar on his wrist, leaving 'Sherlock' behind.
Hearing the sound of a plane landing behind him, John turned, a smile on his face.

oOo

It was not until years later, after Mary and the Baby, and another wedding (this time between John and Sherlock), that Sherlock thought to ask about the Soulname, playing with his husband's wrist in bed one lazy morning.
John simply smiled, claiming that his Soulname was a complicated as the man himself, before suggesting that perhaps it was that 'William' would not have been John's soulmate, and that he needed to become Sherlock. It was also possible that Sherlock was not ready for a soulmate until he had shared his whole self, to which Sherlock declared it was 'sentimental rubbish', capturing John's lips with his own, entwining their fingers, watching as their names overlapped until you could not tell where one ended and the other began.

Indeed, the entire premise of a Soulname frustrated Sherlock - it always had, but that was the beauty of it.

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