A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! paulie_lover sent me a request for this story, a different take on the Soulmates AU. In this AU, everyone has a Countdown on their wrist that shows how long until they meet their soulmate. Enjoy<3
Sherlock absentmindedly scratched at his wrist as he studied the data the computer had spit out. He was testing a theory about chemicals reacting with different blood types, an experiment he had been planning for months. He had finally convinced Molly to let him use the lab for the day and wasn't going to waste a minute.
"Anything interesting?" The sweet, timid voice of the Pathologist wormed its way into his thoughts. He glanced up, still scratching his wrist. He fought back a mild irritation towards his wrist, resisting the urge to glance at the skin.
"Nothing yet, but I am only halfway through A Positive."
"Does Lestrade have no cases for you?"
"If he had cases for me, I wouldn't be here." She nodded, they had this discussion every time he managed to snag some lab time.
"What wrong with your wrist?" She asked, clearly noticing how he had been scratching at it.
"I must have spilled something on it, it's nothing serious."
"Isn't that your Countdown?" He glared at her, rolling his eyes before returning to his work.
She wasn't wrong, the skin where his countdown lay, ticking away, was what was irritated. He hated the thought of the Countdown. Then the clock reached zero, he was supposed to meet his soulmate. He didn't waste brain power on such boring things. Soulmates were real, he had witnessed several people meeting theirs, he just had a tough time believing that there was someone out there for him.
It had been years since he looked at the numbers on his wrist, and he wasn't about to start now.
"I have to let these samples cure for a few hours, I will be back shortly." He stood, grabbing his coat as he hurried out of the room. He needed coffee.
John had the overwhelming urge to go get a coffee. He had no idea why, he hated coffee. He decided to follow the impulse and started walking in the direction his own legs seemed to want to go. All his years in the army had taught him to follow his instincts, so when he would suddenly get the urge to go somewhere, he always followed it.
He scratched absently at his wrist as he walked. His Countdown was bothering him again. It had happened once before, years back. He had seen the young man that was supposed to be his soulmate, but before he could reach him, he had been shot in the shoulder by a stray bullet.
His Countdown stayed at zero after that.
He had missed his soulmate. He knew that the clock wasn't going off again, he had found out a few years later that the young man he was meant to be with had been killed less than a week after he was shipped home.
He brushed away thoughts of his lost chance and continued walking, still scratching at his wrist.
As the looming form of Saint Bart's Hospital appeared on the horizon, the irritation on his wrist seemed to worsen. He tried desperately to ignore the pain and found the café he wanted to go to. Just outside the door, he stopped, unable to ignore the itch any longer. He rolled up his sleeve and glared at the inked numbers on his skin.
The Countdown now read 0:00:0:30
"What the-" His thoughts were cut short by someone shoving him roughly. "Oi!" He shot a glare at the man that bumped him. The offender was standing just to his left, slightly ahead of him. He was reaching into his jacket for something.
