Written in Flesh and Blood - Johnlock

2 - Afghanistan or Iraq?

~ Sherlock Holmes ~

Sherlock had never been bothered by the name on his wrist being that of another man. In his childhood many of his peers had thought him strange, the fact that he was gay had nothing to do with it. What bothered Sherlock was that he had a name in the first place. He had always believed himself to be a solitary creature, one incapable, and most certainly undeserving, of love. But the name on his wrist was a reminder that he was. Whoever this 'John' person was, was supposed to fall in love with him. He almost pitted the poor bastard. 

He had  never met John, he'd met plenty of John's but none of them were the John, his John. At this point he was ready to give up. Maybe god or the universe or whatever decided his future soulmate had gotten it wrong. Maybe he was destined to be alone, to be an uncaring, isolated creature, to be something not quite human, not quite lovable. 

It certainly felt like that, like he wasn't human, more like a machine really. His body felt like more of a vessel than something that could give love, or be loved. He couldn't imagine his arms wrapped around 'John' or his head resting on his chest. He couldn't imagine any forms of intimacy. Maybe it was because he hadn't received much as a child? Maybe it was because there was something wrong with him? Because he was a freak. He had always been told that, by everyone, why wouldn't it be true? 

Just because he had given up on his search for a soulmate didn't mean others had. His friend, more of a college really, Mike Stanford, had began introducing him to every John he knew once Sherlock had finally shown him his name. That was barely more than a month ago and he had already been introduced to 15 John's. 14 of them were straight, 10 of which were already married to their soulmates. The one that had been gay, hadn't yet found his soulmate, which was more promising then the rest of them, but the name on his wrist hadn't been his, instead he was looking for some guy named Peter. 

Still Mike kept trying, despite Sherlock's complaints. This morning his crusade had changed, when Sherlock had mentioned how he was in need of a flat mate, a difficult position to fill, considering most people couldn't stand to be around him, let alone live with him. Yet Mike was determined to prove he could find him a flat mate, saying if he couldn't find him his soulmate it was the least he could do. Sherlock had to admire his persistence, despite the fact that it was terribly annoying, and quite frankly a waste of his time. 

As if on some kind of silent queue, there was a knock on the door of his lab and Mike Stanford popped his head through. 

"This is my friend Dr. Watson." He said, getting straight to the point. That was something Sherlock liked about Mike, he got to the point. 

Sherlock looked up, his eyes locking with the man entering the room behind Mike with a limp. He was gorgeous, in a kind of casually gorgeous way as if he didn't realize that he was the most beautiful man in the room, or in any room ever really. Sherlock eyed him up and down, trying to deduce what he could about the attractive stranger. He had a limp, obvious from when he walked in, not permanent, at least he didn't want it to be, judging by the cane clearly borrowed from the hospital. Steel: hospital issued, borrowed: adjustable but doesn't quite fit his size, slightly shorter than it needs to be. Psychosomatic? Possibly. Clean, pressed clothes, trying to make a good impression? Or just cares about his appearance? Judging by the expression on his face he's unsure why he's here, so not someone promised to meet their soulmate, potential flatmate then. Well done Mike getting one so fast, and one so good looking. Holds himself like a soldier, very straight, too straight for someone with a limp, psychosomatic it is then. Military style haircut, slight tan above the neck but not near the collar of his shirt, hasn't been on a tanning bed, therefore he's been somewhere with sun. Sunny places where British forces are currently fighting?