Shift

Every person in the world has special ability, the ability to shift. The creature they shift into reflects many things about their soul, and sometimes what they shift into shows more than they're comfortable with.

Some people are fine shifting publicly, while others only shift in the privacy of their own home or around certain trusted people.

Every person has a special someone out there somewhere that mirrors their partner's shift creature once those people meet an attachment forms, most attachments are romantic, but some are simply platonic.

Sometimes though the partner isn't found or worse yet, is found and lost. Sometimes a platonic attachment is really something more, or sometimes a romantic attachment is nothing at all.

The first time John Watson shifted was one of the most traumatic experiences of his ten short years of life thus far.

His father was drunk and screaming at Harry again for who knew what, no doubt the neighbors could hear it, while all little John tried to think of ways to calm his raging father down.

John stepped in-between Mr. Watson and Harry trying to defuse the situation, but was only slapped aside by his father.

The blow knocked him into the pantry doorknob with which his head collided, as he watched in a daze Mr. Watson slammed Harry's arm against the counter so hard it broke with a resonating crack.

There was a moment of silence, and then a harsh snarl tore through the air. John would remember later the smoky scent of his father's shirt and the look of sheer terror in the man's eyes just before he died.

But at the moment, all John knew was the hot taste of blood. It took a moment for John to realize he was no longer in human form, he had shifted for the first time and he had attacked his father.

Shock coursed through his entire system, and when he looked to Harry he realized she was whiter than a sheet. As soon as their eyes met hers rolled up into her head and she passed out.

In a daze John wandered out into the hallway, not believing the events going on when he saw himself in the hall mirror.

No animal John could think of quite fit his shift creature, his body was the shape of a wolf, his size was that of a small bear, his now grey eyes were slitted like a cat's, and his fur was black with a white x above his eyes.

His muzzle was stained with drying blood, and his razor sharp teeth were tinted red as well.

The only thing John could think of to describe himself would be monster; this thing that he had become was horrible. There was no way anyone could ever accept his shift form, it was too terrifying.

The power he felt and the ease with which he moved was uncommon amongst new shifts, Harry had spent two days trying to figure out how to walk on four legs and it took another three to stop tripping over her tail.

It was all too much for a ten year old to take in at once, and John fainted in shock.

Three weeks later.

John and Harry were to go into foster care, the courts had decided John's actions were in self defense and both he and Harry had to go to a child psychiatrist as part of the court's decision.

The next eight years went by in a blur of different foster homes and new schools, then, at long last John and Harry could live on their own.

Working part time John managed to go to medical school, and then after graduating he joined the military as a field medic.

It was a whole new experience being in the army for John, having been a loner for as long as he could remember John was now forced to interact with many people on a daily basis.

He had been in Afghanistan for three months on his first tour when an insurgent ran in to the house where John and a wounded soldier were waiting for a medivac. The insurgent hadn't noticed John and by the time he did it was too late.

John's instincts took over and in one swift leap he shifted and snapped the man's neck just as he was turning. Ten seconds later John was back at his patients side making sure the man wasn't going to bleed out.

A year later after many close calls, one bullet found its way home into John's shoulder. His team had been pinned down by enemy fire and when John popped up to take out one of the snipers he got a bullet in return.

Even though he had been hit John managed to shoot his own shooter straight through the heart before collapsing.

The last memories he had of that moment was Murray's face and voice shouting for him to stay conscious and his last thought, Please God, let me live, before everything went completely black.

John woke up off and on as he fought a nasty fever that had him hallucinating for three days. On the fourth day the fever broke and John regained true consciousness for the first time to be informed of the extent of the damage.

The doctors told him that the bullet had lodged in between the ball of his shoulder and the collar bone, the collar bone had been broken and to make matters worse he had contracted an infection in the wound.

John had been lucky to be able to keep his arm they said, and then the worst news of all was told to him; he was being shipped home in three days.

Returning to London was one of the bleakest trips John had ever made as he realized he had no plans for the future, he couldn't afford to stay anywhere other than his little bedsit, and no one would want to hire a crippled doctor.

As he slowly readjusted to civilian life there were several times John contemplated the gun in his desk drawer, there were a few times when he peered over the railing of a high bridge on his meandering of the city, and there were many times when he stared at the bottle of painkillers in the bathroom.

He wasn't willing to give up just yet though; his fighting spirit wouldn't allow it. So instead of giving up he wandered, here and there, sometimes taking a back alley sometimes walking down the most populated streets there were.

When he ran into Mike Stamford he realized he hadn't really talked to anyone in ages, and as they caught up sitting there on that park bench John realized he didn't really care.

Mike told him that he'd found his shift mate and that she loved him in every way, and somehow the conversation meandered to John needing to find a flat mate.

When Mike said he knew someone who was looking for a flat mate John was skeptical that anyone would want to room with him, but after meeting Sherlock Holmes he couldn't help but be intrigued by the man.

During the Study in Pink as John called it he realized he really had been missing the adventure, his limp was gone, his tremor had been banished, and now he ran with the world's only consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes.

The light was back in his life again, and just maybe Sherlock Holmes would be the one to accept him over time.

A/N: I don't usually do AU's but this one has been attacking my brain for a while now and I thought that it might be interesting to try to write. Hopefully I did a decent job, it hasn't been beta'd but then again its rare if any of my stuff is. I gotta admit, this is different from my usually style, there's not a single piece of dialogue in this chapter.

Let me know if you think I should continue or scrap it please,

^_^ KB