A/N: Hello readers, and welcome to a new story! I did promise a soul!mate fic, did I not? (I did) So, here it is.

Hope you find this enjoyable to read :)

WARNING: mild mentions of self harm/self inflicted injury (nothing too bad)

Chapter 1

It is a bleak Saturday morning. The sky is a dull grey, whips of clouds scattering the horizon, and the air is stale. The ground is still wet from the rain the night before, and the sounds of chattering and humming of cars can be heard clearly. It breaks the morning silence, even in the early hours. The city is bustling with people, continuing as normal, oblivious to what historic event is transpiring at this very moment in St. Bart's Hospital.

The birth of Sherlock Holmes.

In room 104 a baby cries. A mother lays, exhausted, newborn in arms, and a brother waits in an uncomfortable plastic chair outside to meet his new brother. The nurses take the baby from the unwilling mother, and the doctor assures it is standard procedure. The infant is washed and taken to a separate room. He is placed on a white mat and a microscope is brought to his small, left hand. The magnification is set stronger and stronger, until a faint, black word is seen. On the base of his palm, under his thumb, where most people have them, invisible to the naked eye, is the word imprinted, marked into his skin. It is written in bold, not quite messy but curved, writing. The name. Sherlock's name.

John.

{***}

"It cannot be seen at the moment, he is too small, but as he grows, it will become bigger with his hand. It should be visible around 5 to 6 years of age."

The mother nodded, already knowing this of course, but it was still nice to hear it from the doctor. She looked down caringly at the baby in her arms.

"So, what is it? His name, I mean," she asks as she strokes the boy's soft, dark hair from his face, momentarily looking up at the doctor.

He pauses, "John."

Her hand stops midair, but then after a moment she continues to caress the baby's fluff. "I see."

Prejudice is hardly a problem anymore, since the marks appeared, and everyone realised what they meant. It was a gradual thing actually, the marks did not appear on every baby suddenly. It apparently was some kind of spreading mutation, an amazing phenomenon, but nothing science could not explain. The whole concept of the marks always being right and knowing who you would love was still baffling though, and of course the Church took responsibility, claiming it was God's doing. So when it began to show that marks were not exclusively between a man and a woman, what could the Church do but embrace it? Homophobia faded, as the marks grew.

This does not mean that people expected their children to be bonded with one of the same gender though. It is accepted, but not everyone jumps with joy when they discover whom their children are to be with.

"He is beautiful," she murmurs quietly.

"Yes," the doctor agrees.

"John is a lucky man."

The doctor squirms uncomfortably a little, but then turns, busying himself and quietly says, "Indeed."

{***}

Not everyone finds his or her name. Statistically only 68% of people ever find their name, it might seem like a low number, but considering seven billion people, and the probability of finding the one person meant for you, one in seven billion, it is actually very high. This is said because names are often drawn to each other or the same places, even before bonding. However, only 91% of those who find their names are happily together. Even so, it is still a big part of society.

Some people find their name at a very young age, most find them later though, between ages twenty to forty, and some never find them. There are even a few rare cases where people get married, and years into their marriage find their name. Some people do not wait for their name; they date, sleep with, and even marry other people. It can be messy, but everyone knows that your name is your name, and no one can compete. Some people never stray from their name, regardless of meeting them or not, thinking being with anyone else was a sin.

Once you find your name and you are bonded, a process that begins when you first touch, it is almost impossible to stay away from them. When names find each other and touch, there is an immediate effect. First they will feel an almost electric shock, at first contact, and their marks will burn red hot, but even after, something else will begin to change. Names are incredibly in sync once bonded, it is said they develop extreme empathy for each other, nothing ridiculous like a telepathic communication, even if some claim so, but still a connection. One cannot stray from their name for too long, it can, in extreme cases, become not only emotionally straining, but actually can begin to physically hurt. This is rare, but does happen to a select few.

If one does not find their name at the age of 35, their mark begins to fade, from black to duller and duller greys. Once you find your name though, the marks will fully reappear, a bold black color again. People who never find their names tend to die early, in their 40's or 50's. Those who are strong believers in names, or as some like to say 'soul mates', say that this is because they die of loneliness. The same group of people also claim that this is the same reason that people who's names have died, follow them soon after. This only happens if the two are already bonded. Of course, this is completely unproven and not scientific, as it is impossible to die of loneliness. The real reason is unknown.

Though it might sound strange, there are different levels of bonding. It is possible that you find your name, but only a weak bond is formed, and they can easily be away from each other. These are mostly the cases that are not happily joined. There are also times when people's bonds are so strong, that the electric shock can knock them unconscious or they're marks can burn so much that they need medical attention. Their empathy is also significantly stronger than others. Sometimes names with weak bonds will have such faint flashes of electric shock that it will only tingle or they don't even feel it. If it was not for the burning in their marks, or sting for the lesser bonded, they might have never known that they'd found their name. Couples like this are always disappointed though, to know how fragile their bond is. Strong bonds are always valued, but they are not always pleasant. Most people desire strong bonds, but they can be very difficult to have. Names can become incredibly dependent on each other, so when they are apart or one of them dies, the other becomes impaired.

Most people highly regard names as very important, some even thought it one of the most important things, but some did not. There is a group of people, coined as the 'unbonded', that find no interest in their names. Now, people who were not bonded are not necessarily 'unbonded'. The unbonded are an express selection of few people that choose not to find or look for their name. They are not a society or a clan or a religion, even if some hardcore believers in bonding think them so. People tend not to speak of the unbonded, an unvoiced topic, taboo. This is why most unbonded are in secret, they do not express their beliefs as to not be ostracized, but some preferred it that way.

{***}

After his sixth birthday his mother begins to worry. Sherlock's mark has still not appeared. They go to the doctor, and it is still there, it just will not grow. It has not grown since birth. No one knows what to think, this has never happened before, absolutely no record of it since the very beginning. His mother is a wreck, doctors are baffled, and Sherlock is secretly happy.

{***}

When Sherlock turns eight, and his mark still has not appeared, the other kids begin to notice. This is the first time that Sherlock is called a 'split', a slur for the unbonded.

Sherlock does not admit it, to spare his mother, but he knows he is unbonded. He, even at this young age, knows that he is. He has no interest in finding this 'John'. It is unlikely anyways, to find his name. John is such a generic name, it is almost boring, but Sherlock is glad because just the less chances of finding him. He would never know anyway, too many John's to know whether every single one he met was his John or not. It isn't like they would touch either, so he could not be tempted to every find out. He would continue in blissful ignorance of John.

This mark, his mark, invisible mark, it was a sign. Not a superstitious sign or a sign from the universe, that was ridiculous and Sherlock did not believe in that, but a literal showing of Sherlock's unbonded choice. He didn't care for John, and he didn't need him on his hand at all times either.

John is a weakness. Caring is not an advantage, and Sherlock does not plan to do so. He does not want John. He refuses to become dependent upon him, care for him.

Two months and three days later Sherlock begins to wear gloves; he does not want to ever touch anyone again. His mother is still worried, but he tells her of his choice. It does not help.

His gloves are black, normally used as a sign of a widow, but everyone knows that Sherlock has not bonded. There is only one other explanation. Sherlock is unbonded and his mark unseen, and now everyone would know.

No one ever becomes unbonded at such a young age, and no one ever admits it either. No one wants to be ostracized and out casted, to be known publically as 'the unbonded one' but Sherlock is not anyone. Sherlock enjoys the solitude and appreciates the absence of idiots that surround him. It is better this way. He does not need anyone, especially not John.

{***}

A few weeks after Sherlock's ninth birthday his mark finally begins to grow. His mother is relieved, and the doctors are not any less confused, but are more confident on his predicament. They start to claim that if must be because he has a weak bond; this does not please Mrs. Holmes but she is relieved nonetheless. Some people's marks did grow a little later than they should, maybe a few months at the most, but Sherlock's was still inexplicably late. Sherlock is not happy, not at all. He most certainly did not want his mark to grow. He was happy without one.

He does not want John. He hates him. Sherlock hates John. John had branded himself into his skin. Forced this mark or ownership upon him. He did not want it; he did not want John. Sherlock belonged to no one. John certainly was not going to change that.

{***}

The mark grows very slowly, it is still much smaller than it should be when it stops, half the size of a regular mark. Sherlock is twelve. He is still unhappy. It was so much better without it. This is why, a few days later, he attempts, for the first time, to cut it off. He is sent to the hospital. It grows back. He is still unhappy.

He tries again six months later. It grows back. He is still unhappy.

The definition of insanity is doing something over and over again and expecting different results. Sherlock, obviously, knows this. He tries again at thirteen. It grows back. He is still unhappy. He does not think he is insane, despite his actions though, because each time he repeats himself he is not expecting different results, he knows that there will not be, but instead he is just desperately hoping.

{***}

It is in his first year of high school when the names really start to kick in. Almost a fourth of his grade has found their names. It is then he realises what he has to do, to prevent ever from his finding him. It is a new school, so no one knows his what he is called, well the teacher would say it once in role call the first day, but he could easily arrange it for them to call him differently. If he keeps his head down long enough, no one would even notice him until they only knew him by what he had chosen. No one would know what he was called, and his name would never know if he ever were to find him. Now avoiding all Johns would be much less of a hassle. From then on, everyone only knows him as 'Holmes'.

The gloves are a nice touch now. They are no longer a sign of just his unbondedness, because in this new environment no one knows, and they all assumed his name had died. It hardly matters to Holmes. His name is dead to him either way. He is left alone, mostly.

A/N: A special thanks to TheRebelFlesh for being lovely and agreeing to take a look at this :)

Next chapter coming soon!