Chapter 1

'The Time Circle'

A/N: So I have seen this idea of your soulmate's name being written on your wrist floating around tumblr for a while now and have finally decided to write a fic for it, so here it is! Read away... :)

"Since Time has allowed the beginning of humanity, Life and Death have fought over who was to own the people of earth, and the time which was given to each of them. Both had wanted their company yet Time would not allow them to have it at the same time. So they struck up a deal; they would share the time given to the people of earth. Life was to have the people for half of their years and then Death was to have them for the other half. Then once the people had lived up the last of their time with Death, they would be sent elsewhere, to a place only Time knew of and Life would create new people to walk the earth. It was known as 'The Time Circle'.

The people of earth were contented with this arrangement. They enjoyed Life but welcomed death as well. They lived, but didn't fear the end of it, loved but didn't fear the loss of it. Nobody feared Death, and so nobody resisted him. Both Life and Death could enjoy people's company equally and revel in the time given to each of them.

But over the years Life found that there was a reason that people never feared Death. It was because they didn't love enough to fear the loss of it. So one day, Life created two people whose love was such that others could only dream of it. One that was fated by the pattern of the stars. But they still did not manage to love one another enough to fear Death. Life found that the time she had been given with the people of earth was not enough for her to watch people really fall in love; once they had found one another, it was often time to hand them over to Death.

This time, as she created people, she anchored their hearts to one another, to ensure the deepest of love; tethering them with string. But knowing this would not be enough, she inscribed over each person's wrist the name of their lover, hoping that they would find one another as quickly as Time would allow.

After a few years of curiously searching, the lovers found one another and as their time together lengthened, their love bloomed. However, each moment of their time with Life was one of such beauty and happiness that she couldn't bear the thought of losing it to Death. She tried to keep them by warning them of Death, telling them that he would steal their years from them and bring darkness to their love. The people grew fearful of Death, so much so that they rebelled against him, trying desperately, as the time grew ever closer to the years of their death, to hide themselves from his sordid hands. As the years passed by, Death grew angrier and angrier.

Then, on the night that Life was supposed to hand over two of the lovers to Death, they escaped him, begging Life for help. Eager not to lose them, she told them a secret, possibly the most powerful secret of one could ever know, the secret of Time; a way to escape Death and receive eternal life. All they had to do was place their left hand over the name inscribed on their lover's wrist at the same time and share a single, immortal kiss. Thus sealing their time to each other. So long as one was living, so would the other. The lovers clasped their hands on one another's wrists, faces inches apart, souls even closer. But before they could complete the spell, wrathful Death appeared. Just as the couple were about to seal the enchantment, Death grabbed the hand of one lover and wrenched the two apart. Then he gave them the kiss of Death. The explosion of light that erupted from them was blinding. The earth shook and the stars were drowned in darkness as the light contorted into a black void. Time stood before them, enraged by their disobedience of The Circle of Time it had made for them. The chance for love and peace had been lost. The bridge between Life and Death was broken.

Life was never again allowed to prevent death, nor was Death ever allowed to take a life before Time had commanded. However, it was the lovers who suffered the worst of Time's wrath. For their attempt to try and steal eternal time together, the string between their hearts was severed, and their connection was lost. As a final act of punishment, one of the lovers was sent to live with Life eternally, while the other was to live with Death eternally. The lovers searched for one another for years, agonised by their separation. However, each torturous moment was experienced not only by the lovers, but by Life and Death themselves. After centuries of searching, the lovers eventually gave up. They never found one another again. However, although Time could ensure the separation of the lovers, it could not break the love between them. It was as though the broken string had left a memory of the connection, the physical pull they had between them was severed, but the emotional one could not be touched.

Life, realizing the power of the love she had created, and desperate to recapture the love that had once walked the earth, decided to give one in every thousandth child the opportunity for this love that was better than any other. An irrevocable connection. So few in number that such a potent love could exist in secret and Time could never know. When they came of age, she would write the name of their soul mate upon their wrist. However, through experience, Life realized that she could never again steal time from Death, and if ever the lovers did the spell to tether their time, instead of stealing time to live together, they would surrender it to die together.

Never again would a couple who shared such true love have to live without it - "

"Bullshit. Absolute bullshit." Harry's voice rang out from behind them.

They were in the living room of their grandmother's house. The sky outside was dark but for the the pale light of the moon which filtered in through the gap in the curtains. The only other light source in the room was the fire crackling, it's flames licking at the soot covered walls of the chimney.

John had been kneeling on the floor by the feet of his grandmother as she sat in her large chair before the fire. The flames spread a faint orange glow over his young face, igniting the blue in his eyes, which were wide in undisguised awe. But, as Harry's sharp words broke the soft, dreamlike tone of their grandmother, he whipped his head away from the fire and turned to face her with a furious scowl.

"No it isn't!" Turning to his grandmother, whose blue eyes twinkled in the fire light with reserved amusement, he asked; "Is it, grandma?" waiting readily for her vindication of her story, which he was confident would come, but speaking with slightly less assurance than last time.

She looked down at John with a warm smile, but then said with an almost grave seriousness,"Of course." John returned her smile contentedly, ignoring the sudden somberness to her tone. "So as I was saying," she glanced briefly towards Harry, eyes shining with a mixture between chastising and humour, "Life wanted to ensure that never again would a couple who shared such true love, have to live without it. So still to this day, every thousandth child will be able to share in this timeless magic," She then leant closer towards him and whispered, "one that can conquer even Time itself. That is why we call them Soulmates because it is believed that even after physical life their souls will remain tethered together, their hearts anchored, linked inexorably in death. "

"Wow." John said, eyes wide, but then a sadness crept over his features and his small head dropped to look miserably at his hands, "But…I don't have a name on my wrist…does that mean that I won't get the magic love like the people in the story?"

"All love has its magic John," She said firmly, reaching out to touch his right hand, a thumb stroking over the inside of his wrist. She then looked up at Harry again who was staring fixedly away, a dark expression in her eyes, "Never forget that." Harry's eyes met her grandmothers for a fleeting moment, then she walked out of the room. His grandmother sighed, and then returned her gaze to John, a smile occupying her face once again, but it didn't quite reach her eyes this time. "Besides, the mark is only revealed when the person comes of age; the name begins to reveal itself on the sixteenth year of life."

"Oh." He said, furrowing his brows in intense concentration, as much as a nine year old boy was capable of anyway. "But Harry…"

"Is seventeen, yes."

"And she doesn't…"

"No, she does not."

John scrunched up his eyebrows again, trying to piece together all of the information he had heard this evening. "So…grandma, if you have the magic…where the name of the person who you love more than anything in the whole world is written on your wrist…why does your wrist say – " He paused a moment in an attempt to read the largely faded scrawl on his grandmother's wrist, "Oliver? That's not grandpa's name."

Her eyes suddenly darkened, as though the light that always seemed to kindle within them had been extinguished by a sudden and bitter breeze, and the smile that usually clung to the corner of her lips had vanished. John found that without these seemingly minor features, his grandmother's expression was no longer timeless or captivating, but rather, old and so very tired.

She retracted her hand from his shoulder and looked away from him, into the delicate flames of the fire. "Sometimes we do not have a choice of who we love in this world John, nor do we always get the choice of whom we are allowed to love."

"But like I said, all love has its magic; I did love your grandfather John, just not in the same way. Ours was a different magic." She smiled at him, but it wasn't with quite the same warmth this time.

"So you never found your person? Is that why it's faded?"

She swallowed and got up, "No, that is not the reason."

"So why has it faded then?"

His grandmother merely attempted a brief smile. But he knew his grandmother's real smiles well enough to know that this was not one of them. John found that adults often pretended to be happy when they were sad, he didn't like it. If people smiled even when they were sad, then how were you ever supposed to know if anyone was ever really happy?

"Come on, time for bed. You look exhausted; your mother will kill me for having you up this late." She spoke in a light manner with a weak laugh at the end.

"I'm not tired," John yawned. "I want to know more about the story! About the magic and the lovers! I want to know who Oliver is!"

"Now John, part of the magic isn't in hearing about it from an old woman like me, it's in experiencing it for yourself."

She took his hand and led him to his bedroom, but as she tucked him in between the soft blue covers of his bed and turned to leave, a small voice spoke from beneath them, "What if I don't get chosen?"

She turned then to see a pair of large blue eyes looking up at her fearfully, "What if I don't have the magic?"

She smiled and whispered, "I know you do."

"How do you know?"

"Because John, I see it in you, all the time. You're going to love, John, and you will love deeper than any other." Then she whispered, "Now you try telling me there's no magic in that."

John opened his mouth but found he simply could not argue with that, so he shut it again and smiled as she opened the door.

"Night grandma."

"Goodnight John." She called from outside the door.

-10 years later -

"Bullshit, Sarah! It's just utter bullshit!"

"How could you lie to me about this, John?" Sarah cried, now sat up on his bed and fastening the buttons of her shirt with shaking hands. John sat up too, pulling down the sleeve on his right arm forcibly; having forgotten to keep it covered in the heat of the moment which had left as quickly as though a cold breeze had suddenly burst through the window of his small bedroom, seizing them in its bitter touch.

"Because it's just nonsense! You think some shitty tattoo can dictate who you can date?"

"No, but it does dictate who you can love! And I'm sorry John but I don't want to spend my whole life searching for my soulmate, - do you know how many John's there are in the world? - I just can't afford to waste my time in some meaningless relationship-"

"Meaningless?" John smiled but his eyes were dark.

Sarah stopped fiddling with her buttons and sighed, turning to face him, "I need to find him, John. I – I thought I had…but clearly I was wrong – how could you do that to me? You knew how much this meant to me! You lied to me. You told me that my name was on your wrist! How long did you think you could keep that a secret?" She shook her head with an appalled expression.

John breathed heavily, looking out the window, refusing to meet her eyes. She looked at him for a moment, watching the rapid movement of his chest and the hardness to his eyes. "Look, John…we've known each other for years, since we were kids…I remember when all you could talk about was this 'magic love' that your grandmother always told you about, you counted down the days until your sixteenth birthday since we were nine years old! All you could think about was the name that would most definitely appear on your wrist, the person you were fated to love…and now? Now even hearing other people mentioning the word soulmate puts you in a foul mood." She paused, and then began tentatively, "I understand…it's about your grandmother. I know what it's like to lose someone John… I-"

"It's got nothing to do with her!" He barked." I don't want to talk about it, can we just -"
But Sarah replied equally as forcefully, "But it is vital that you don't let their death rob you of your life!" She placed her hand over his and ran her thumb over the inside of his wrist instinctively.

"Look I said I don't want to talk about it!" He wrenched his hand away from hers and stormed across the room, opening the door. "Just go – alright – it's fine. Go and find your stupid soulmate – just don't come crying to me when this great love you're searching for disappoints you."

Sarah got up, taking her bag as she walked up to him, tears brimming in her eyes. Then she leaned into him and kissed him softly on the cheek, John closed his eyes for a moment, turning his face away. As she pulled away she whispered, "All love has its magic, John. You told me that." Then she left.

John slammed the door after her and collapsed onto the bed; drained from the current of emotion that was surging through him. Hands shaking, he lifted the sleeve of his right arm, revealing the sickeningly clear patch of skin beneath it.

When he was younger he would trace non-existent letters with his finger tip, imagining a name for the person he would eventually fall in love with; so sure that someday black letters would run across his wrist, staining his skin with fated permanence. But that day had never come. His sixteenth birthday had come and gone and no name had revealed itself across his wrist.

There were two things which John remembered in his life with painful clarity; the day on which he found this ancient magic, and the day on which he lost it. He knew that many people experienced this same disappointment on their sixteenth birthday, and that most would never even know about it, (as only people who had a family member with the magic were told about it with any ounce of seriousness. To others it was merely a myth, until they received the tattoo of course. Those that did not were none the wiser.) But somehow, on the day of his sixteenth birthday, he had not only lost the magic he had been clinging to for so many years.

John's grandmother had died when he was thirteen. He did not cry. Instead, when people asked him how he was he smiled and told them he was fine. Because he wanted to be grown up about this, he wanted to be strong, and that's what most adults did, didn't they? So he simply did the same. And he did that for the next few years because in some way, the hope in the magic had brought with it another, crueller hope; the hope that if he had a piece of this magic, then he would also have a piece of his grandmother. So when the day of his sixteenth birthday passed and the name he had been dreaming of never came; not only did he lose the magic, but he lost his grandmother too.

Not many people can overcome the loss of hope, but when combined with the loss of love also, it is an almost impossible feat.

It was so unfair. He had been dreaming of this since he had first heard of the magic. He had waited years for a person that never existed, a face he would never know, a love that would never be his. He pulled the covers over himself, curling into a ball and staring out the open window. The sky was dark now and he could see no stars blinking back at him. As he lay there, alone in his room, he remembered the last conversation he'd had with his grandmother;

"It's not fair." He whispered, clasping her hand whilst crouched by her bed in the darkened bedroom.
"Mum says you have to go and that I have to let you. But I don't want you to. Do…do you want to go? To leave us…Leave me?"

She placed her cold palm (her hands were always cold these days) to his cheek and smiled. It was the type of smile which she seemed to save only for John, it was different to the one she wore around others; different, because it was real.

"I could never want to leave you John, and I won't. Not really. But I have to go. I have to. I'm ready now. Remember what I told you? Life's had me long enough, it's Death's turn now."

"But if you go you will leave me." Tears spilled from his eyes now, running over the soft skin of his grandmother's hand.

"No, John, I won't. Life and Death, they're journeys – they don't last. But Time, Time is eternal. We will always have time. You may feel like we're apart for a while, but I promise you; we will have all the time in the world to find each other again."

She smiled at him, and wiped the tears from his cheeks with one hand, as the other tightened its grasp on John's own, but loosened slightly after a minute or so. But John squeezed back, thinking that as long as he held onto her hand tight enough, he could hold onto her life too.

"It's just not fair. None of it is fair." His grandmother actually laughed then, it was a weak, quiet noise that sounded more like an expression of pain than amusement , but to John the intention was clear.

"Life isn't fair John; she picks and chooses her favourites, elevating some and dropping others. Death, however, is fair. He has no favourites – all must succumb to his darkness in the end. In a way, it's the highest form of mercy we are ever offered. So don't be sad about it, John, be thankful. "

But if only she had known that the memory of that blissful smile, the soft sound of her voice and the reassurance in her words, would only serve to later remind John of the absence of all those things. He had been carrying these weights on his back for years, struggling under them; barely breathing, making his way through a darkened tunnel with a dot of light at the end. But now the weights were getting heavier and heavier, the light had been swallowed by the blackness, and his heart could not take it anymore, collapsing under the weight of the darkness.

He pulled the covers up until they rested just above his nose, blue eyes staring out into the distance, still shining with a last glint of childlike sincerity. His hands closed around thin air, trying to rid the memory of a soft, withered hand loosening with a grim finality in his own. And in that moment, as his eyes slid closed, he realized that he had never before felt so alone as he did now.

That night, as John fell asleep believing himself to be lost of all hope, finally surrendering to the darkness that had been circling him, a name began to form across his wrist.

Little did John know that at that very moment, the darkest part of his life would be the spark of the brightest.

Well that's it for the first chapter! When I was first writing this I never intended to start off with John as a child, it wasn't even supposed to be chaptered...but I admit I got a little carried away with this fic because it's just so fun to write! So apologies that I haven't brought Sherlock in yet, but I assure you, I have not forgotten him. And if you can, please review and let me know what you think... :D

Until next time, dear readers.