Sherlock's POV

When I was five I picked a lock. It was dark blue. I picked it to match my scarf. Father looked disappointed in me that I had picked a lock; Mycroft had picked a key when he was five

When I was ten I was alone. I had no friends, although I did get very good at eavesdropping. I heard the girls whispering about the locks and keys. Whoever's key matched you lock or vice-a-versa was your soul-mate. What a bunch of poppy cock.

When I was fifteen I was still alone. People were scared of my deductions, that's why they ran away. I was bullied a lot; mostly about my lock, most boys had keys.

When I was seventeen I discovered drugs. I didn't care, I was so alone. Who knew if I would ever find my soul-mate, I would probably hate them anyway.

When I was twenty I met DI Lestrade. I told him who the murderer was; he didn't believe me, said it was because I was obviously high and what would my soul-mate think of me.

When I was twenty-one Mycroft put me into rehab. I stopped doing drugs other than cigarettes that year. It was only to shut up the therapists. "What would your soul-mate think?" They said," God bless your soul-mate."

When I was twenty-three I became the consulting detective. I started working with Lestrade and the Yard. Even here I was bullied, Donovan and Anderson laughed at me and doubted I even had a lock or key to match mine.

When I was twenty-four I met John Hamish Watson. Mike had brought him in as a potential flat mate. He was an army doctor recently invalidated home.

When I was twenty-six I asked John out on at date. I had heard that from the first date you would know whether they were your soul-mate. I showed John my lock that night.

When I was twenty-seven I got married. Mummy insisted on a large affair since Mycroft wasn't married yet. John insisted we honeymoon in Hawaii; it was utterly boring. We left after only a week, John had planned for three.

When I was fifty-nine when I retired. John and I were getting to old to be running around chasing criminals into the middle of the night.

When I was seventy-one John and I moved to the country. I took up beekeeping to relieve the boredom, John took up knitting. John also bought me a puppy although I did have to promise not to perform any experiments on it.

When I was eighty-seven Mycroft died. I tried to put on a brave face for John, Harry died the same year. Inside I knew we were both hurting. John got sick that year, he was bed ridden. I sat by John every day and read or just keep him company.

When I was ninety-two John died. The funeral was small, most of our friends had already died. John died in the night; I tried to keep it together, John would have wanted that.

When I was ninety-four I died. I was surprised I lived that long. I was buried next to John; many people came to my funeral, I did not know most of them.

After I died I meet John again. We were both young and although there was no crime I wasn't bored. John being the poetic one said, "The bond of soul-mates is eternal, forever, and lasts all lives."

Hey hope you all liked it. :D follow me on Tumblr: sherlockian-vegetarian. Comment please.