A/n: Thank you all for kind reviews! I hope you all enjoy this next installment just as much!

John wasn't sure what he was expecting as he stepped into the mysterious police box but it sure wasn't what he saw before him. He was suddenly in a room that looked like it could fit all of 221B inside it and more. It was bright and glowing and so...alien. In the center sat a control panel of some sort with hundreds of different knobs and buttons that he wasn't sure he wanted to know what they did.

He gaped as he continued to walk slowly forward, taking in the awe-inducing sight around him.

He heard the faint click of the door behind him and then the Doctor's voice was in his ear. "Go on...say it."

John blinked as he looked to his side. "...what?"

The Doctor smirked knowingly. "What do you think of it?" He gestured to the whole console room.

"It's..." He turned his attention back to his front. "...amazing..."

"And..." The Doctor prompted.

"And..." John shook his head, unable to find the words that could describe it. Living with Sherlock for eighteen months certainly proved useful in improving his vocabulary but now he was at a complete loss for words. "I don't know..." He muttered.

The Doctor sighed dejectedly as he made his way past John and towards the center console. "You're supposed to say its bigger on the inside."

John blinked for a moment and then furrowed his brow. "But that's obvious, why would I state something that's obvious?" As soon as the words left his mouth and he saw the Doctor's brow raise, his eyes widened as he gasped softly.

"Blimey, I sound like him..." He closed his eyes for a moment or two and then let out a heavy sigh. He had stepped onto this awe inducing ship to forget that life, to forget him, it would do no good to him if he started to act like him. "Sorry, I-...sorry."

"Don't apologize, John." The Doctor assured him with a small smile. "It's alright. It's just what people usually say upon boarding her for the fist time. Culture shock and all of that."

John scoffed, shaking his head. "I've seen too much of the world to be shocked by anything anymore."

The Doctor frowned and took a few cautious steps towards him. "Well John, thats why you're here to bring that surprise and adventure back into your life. You'll see things you never dreamt you could see."

John forced a tight smile. "Well, I hope you're right."

"I usually always am." The Doctor flashed him a grin and for a second he heard Sherlock's voice in his head, saying something similar with more arrogance and condescending smirk. Then he shook it off and cleared his throat, nodding towards the Doctor.

"Okay then Doctor, surprise me."

"You don't want to choose your first destination?"

John shook his head. "What do I know of the universe? No...you say you can bring me surprise and adventure, please, do so."

The Doctor pondered for a moment, observing the army doctor and wondering where in the universe would be best to take him. Another planet surely, John needed something other than Earth...

Barcelona, perhaps? From what he had learned about John he surely would get a kick out of the noseless dogs...but that could wait until his overall mood had brightened.

Something so awe-inspiring it'd take the man's mind off his dear departed friend.

Then it clicked in his mind and he grinned and raced off towards the console. However, just as was about to set the destination, a lever pulled itself down and the time rotor began to move and the Doctor looked up at it wondrously. Whatever his plans were were not the same as the TARDIS' plans and knowing the track record of the TARDIS when she chose her own destination he sincerely hoped it was not a place that would put John's life into immediate danger.

He stole a quick glance over to the army doctor and found he appeared none the wiser that they were headed to an unknown destination, in fact he was wandering around the room, taking in all the lights and structures around him with that look of awe he had when he first entered the ship.

The more John looked around the more he wondered if this was truly a dream. Certainly something like this couldn't be real and yet the Doctor kept assuring him it was. Then again, it didn't seem like it would be one of his dreams anyway since his dreams for the last six months had been nothing but nightmares. The war nightmares had returned but they weren't as frequent as the nightmares that featured him and that terrible day.

So what dream of his could feature a silly man with a bigger-on-the-inside time machine disguised as a police phone box? No dream at all.

The Doctor, which John still found a bit odd of a name, especially for someone who did travel in a police box, had now perched himself on the near by captain's seat and was watching him curiously and John fidgeted under his watch.

Living with Sherlock he had learned not to be uncomfortable with a scrutinizing stare as Sherlock did it most of the time however, with Sherlock gone and now that he was once again living alone he wasn't used to people staring at him constantly...and quite frankly, the Doctor himself unnerved him. Intrigued him definitely, a mysterious man called the Doctor who travelled in time but still unnerved him.

And he also had no idea where this Doctor was taking him. For all he knew it could have been some carnivorous planet, which in some part of John's mind he didn't think he'd mind so much, being devoured by carnivorous aliens seemed a better death than loneliness.

Still, as much as the Doctor did unnerve him, John also trusted him, just like he had trusted Sherlock upon their first meeting.

John paused and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. Well wherever it was the Doctor was taking him he hoped it was effective enough to distract him from his memories.

They arrived to their destination within several minutes, the same wheezing John had heard earlier piercing the air. John looked over to the Doctor at the noise and the Doctor grinned knowingly, rising from his seat and pressing a few buttons as the noise came to a stop. Then he looked over to John, his eyes sparkling, "We have arrived."

John glanced towards the doors and felt his heart leap. Just outside those doors was a place he'd never seen before, a place possibly no human had ever seen before and for once in a long time John felt a surge of excitement in his veins. The corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly and his eyes flickered over to the Doctor who motioned him on with a wave of his hand.

John's smile grew for a moment as he slowly made his way over to the doors and he heard the Doctor rustling behind him. John's hands froze on the handles...once he opened the doors he would enter a world that was not his own and the thought both excited and terrified him. He took a deep breath and then pulled the doors open.

The sunlight came blaring in through the open doors blinding him for a moment but when his eyes adjusted he found himself looking at...

He frowned.

London.

It was London.

His brow furrowed as he stepped outside onto the pavement and looked around.

It was most definitely London.

He heard the Doctor's footsteps behind him and soon the Doctor was at his side, frowning just as he was. "Oh...well thats disappointing."

John turned to him incredulously. "Why are we here?"

"I don't know..." The Doctor murmured and then took a few steps forward. "There has to be a reason..."

John huffed quietly and the Doctor turned around to look back at him. "I'm sorry, John, I didn't know-"

John raised his brow inquisitively and the Doctor pressed his lips together and faced forward once more. "There has to be..." He muttered to himself and then started to walk forward and John, upon seeing that the Doctor was not stopping, quickly followed after him.

The Doctor disappeared around a corner and John raced to keep up with him, however, lost him amongst the sea of people on the streets. John sighed, cursing his height as he tried to peer over the heads of the people. How hard was it to find a man dressed in tweed anyway?

"Sherlock!"

For a second he froze, the familiar name burning in his ear. He slowly turned around looking for the source of the voice and the person to which the name belonged. But just as he did, a boy, no older than ten, shoved past him. The dark haired boy ran to the end of the block and then tossed himself to the ground against the side of the nearest building, bring his knees to chest and adopting a half scowl and half pout on his pink lips.

John gaped at the boy - his slightly curly dark hair, his piercing blue eyes and the unmistakable frown...it had to be-

"Sherlock!" The voice called again and John looked over his shoulder and found himself gazing at a familiar face - a significantly younger face but familiar none the less. The brown haired teenager brushed past him, marching towards the young boy and eventually kneeling beside him.

"You can't run away like that Sherlock." The older boy scolded and the younger snapped a glare at him.

"And you can't tell me what to do, you're not my father Mycroft."

And there was the proof - the words confirming that before him sat none other than the Holmes brothers.

"No, but I am your older brother." More proof: the ever patronizing Mycroft with the air of concern he always held for his little brother.

The boy scoffed, rolling his eyes and bringing his knees tighter to his chest, casting his glare onto the cement.

The older boy sighed. "You worry mother when you do things like that. She worries one day you're just goings to go out and kill yourself."

John stifled a gasp, his heart seizing, almost immediately the flash of the man he knew tossing himself off the roof...

The boy tilted his head towards his brother. "Why would I ever do something so stupid?"

"Not purposefully, Sherlock. That you'll run in the street and get hit by a car or something."

He scoffed again, shaking his head. "I'm ten...not stupid."

The young Mycroft ran his hands through his hair. "I'm not saying you are, Sherlock...I'm just saying that accidents happen and people are crazy."

The young Sherlock was quiet for a moment, the same look John had come to know as his thinking face spread across his face. "So what you're saying is that other people are stupid and because of that, if I go outside without you or mother, I might get hurt."

"If you would like to look at it that way." Mycroft offered.

Sherlock nodded for a moment and then shrugged. "Well that's not my problem."

Mycroft dropped his head, sighing heavily. He then maneuvered himself so he was kneeling directly across from Sherlock. "Listen to me. It's not your problem now but it will become your problem when you get yourself into trouble and I may not be there to get you out of it!"

Sherlock continued to glare at him through icy blue eyes and even after Mycroft's scolding, he turned away from his brother, sticking his chin into the air. "I do not want to go home, Mycroft!" He cried.

"For God sake, Sherlock..." Mycroft groaned and pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his temples and frowning deeply. Sherlock's persistent pout remained stationed on his face as he purposefully avoided Mycroft's disapproving stare.

Mycroft paced back and forth for a long moment then paused, narrowed his eyes in thought and brought himself back to a squat beside his brother. "Sherlock..."

The tone of Mycroft's voice seemed to catch the young Sherlock's attention and he inched his head an inch towards his brother, his eyes squinting curiously.

"What do you say, if you come home with me now, I'll let you be the captain."

Sherlock now looked thoroughly intrigued, his head tilting sideways and his eyes flickering towards Mycroft. "Captain of what?"

A knowing smirk crossed Mycroft's lips as he leaned forward and spoke enthusiastically, "The whole British armada."

For a brief second, Sherlock's eyes flashed and his lips twitched and then it was gone as he nodded stoically. "Fine."

"Good." Mycroft let out a sigh and rose to his feet and as soon as the young Sherlock was sure his brother could not see his face, he broke out into a rare smile, his eyes twinkling in delight and he leapt to his feet with a grace that no awkward ten year old should have.

In an instant the young Sherlock was running towards him and before he knew it, or could even think to get out the way, the ten year old came plowing right into him. John barely flinched on the impact but the boy took a few stumbling steps backward until he caught his footing and looked up.

John's breath caught as he found himself gazing into the same icy blue eyes he'd come to know so well and the ones he hadn't seen in the last six months and thought he would never see again.

The smile had disappeared from his face and was replaced with a curious scowl. John knew without a doubt that even at a young age Sherlock had a powerful mind and that powerful mind was no doubt wondering why a man who was much older than him was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, in his way, without moving.

"Sherlock!" Again the cry from Mycroft and John could hear the sound of his quick footsteps approaching them. Soon Mycroft was standing behind Sherlock, slipping his hands onto the boy's shoulders.

"Sherlock," He hissed, "You need to watch what you're doing. You might have hurt this man! Now apologize."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and John wasn't sure if he was angry at his brother or angry at him for being in his way. Then he huffed and shifted his eyes to the side, breaking their intense stare and forcing air back into John's lungs.

"Sherlock." Mycroft squeezed the boy's shoulders and Sherlock wiggled under his hold. "Tell Mr..." He glanced up at him curiously.

John opened his mouth and found his throat to be incredibly dry and he was hardly able to force out, "Watson."

"Tell Mr. Watson you're sorry."

Sherlock folded his arms over his chest and glared at the ground until Mycroft nudged him again and he groaned before glancing up at John. Blue eyes once again met brown and John felt his chest tighten. "I'm sorry Mr. Watson..." He grumbled.

"Good lad." Mycroft squeezed his shoulders once more and then Sherlock ripped away from his brother and passed John.

John followed Sherlock's path with his eyes until his attention was snapped forward by Mycroft. "I do apologize on behalf of my brother, he can be a bit rude."

Despite himself, John felt a smirk tug at the corner of his lips. He knew very well how rude Sherlock could be and sometimes thought that despite Sherlock's actual age he was a ten year old trapped in an adult's body.

"No worries." John raised his hand and was glad he had found his voice again. "Boys will be boys, eh?"

Mycroft huffed a small laugh. "I suppose..." he trailed off as he looked over John's shoulder to where Sherlock was waiting impatiently at the end of the block. "He's no ordinary boy."

John turned to face the same direction as Mycroft, both now staring at Sherlock who even at ten years old stood like he owned the world, watching the people around him as if they were insignificant little ants.

A sad smile tugged at John's lips and he clenched his jaw as he felt the very faint prick of tears at the back of eyes. He's no ordinary man, either.

"I had better get him home before something happens." Mycroft said stepping forward and casting a small smile over at John. "Have a good evening, Mr. Watson."

"Yes..." He murmured as he watched Mycroft jog over to where Sherlock stood, placing a hand over the boy's shoulder and then guiding him home.

John stood there motionless until the brothers completely disappeared from his sight and then he blinked rapidly, fighting away the slight moisture in his eyes and took a shuddering breath, shaking his head as he wondered if that had actually just happened.

Then coming around the corner he spotted the Doctor and realized that it had. He huffed with a frown and marched towards the Doctor. "Why would you do that?" He wondered and the Doctor almost looked taken aback. "Why would you bring me here?"

"I didn't bring you here." The Doctor answered smoothly and John cast him a look.

"It's your bloody time machine, you're the one who was driving it."

The Doctor raised his hands innocently. "It wasn't me, I promise. It was the TARDIS, she set her own destination."

John stared at him skeptically. "She set her own destination."

"Yes! She does that quite often, actually. She'll take you not to where you want to go, but where you need to go."

"And I needed to come here." John shook his head, closing his eyes. "Why would I need to come here?" He muttered more to himself than anything.

"Closure?" The Doctor offered.

"Closure?" John snapped his eyes open and the Doctor flinched at the fire in them. "My best friend is dead. He's never going to come back and your bloody space ship thought that it would be great closure if I saw him when he was a kid, when he still had his whole life ahead of him, when the whole world didn't hate him or think he was..." His voice cracked as he suddenly paused, closing his eyes and biting down on his lip. He bowed his head to his chest, his shoulders slumping for a moment as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

The Doctor stood in front of him awkwardly, his hands slightly stretched out in front of him, unsure if he should attempt to console the army doctor. However, before he had the chance to act, John inhaled deeply and then released a shuddering breath, squaring his shoulders, and slowly lifting his head. His eyes upon reopening were glossy with unshed tears but he quickly blinked them away.

Then a shaky smile found its way to his lips as he met the Doctor's stare. "He wanted to be a pirate, y'know."

The Doctor returned his smile. "I know."

A breath of a laugh escaped John's throat. "Somehow I don't think Sherlock Holmes: Pirate of the Seven Seas would sell quite as well as Sherlock Holmes: World's Only Consulting Detective."

The Doctor's eyes twinkled in delight as he nodded his agreement. "That would have indeed been a talent wasted."

"Quite." John smiled warmly though it didn't quite reach his eyes. His eyes flickered for a moment down the road to where Sherlock and Mycroft had disappeared and he sighed quietly as he glanced back to the Doctor.

"He helped people didn't he?"

The Doctor stepped forward and slung an arm around John's shoulders. "He helped a lot of people, John. Who knows how many people would have not been brought to justice if not for Sherlock Holmes and most importantly, out of all the random strangers he helped, he helped no one more than he helped you...am I right?"

John's throat tightened and he nodded sternly. "Yes..." He whispered. "Yes."

"I was so alone, and I owe you so much."

"And John-" The Doctor released him and stood in front of him. "The world may have hated him towards the end but that didn't matter to him and do you know why?"

John's jaw tightened as he shook his head slowly although he almost sure of the words that were going to leave the Doctor's lips.

"It was because he jumped knowing you believed in him."

John held the Doctor's stare for a moment and then he slammed his eyes closed, his face scrunching up as his body tensed. He took a few steps away from the Doctor, shaking his head as he swallowed over the lump in his throat. "Who are you?" His voice was low to hide the shaking and his eyes opened slowly. "Really...who are you? How do you know so much about me? How do you know so much about him? How do you know so much about me and him?"

"I'm the Doctor-"

John sighed heavily. "You keep saying that but it doesn't mean anything!"

The Doctor remained un-wavered by John's sudden mood swings and only cast him a small, warm smile.

"I'm the Doctor..." He repeated. "And I make it my business to know things. As it would happen in fact, I know Sherlock Holmes quite well."

"Right...of course you do, of course." John rubbed his temples with a sigh.

"John..." The Doctor took a step forward and hesitantly placed a hand on his arm, bringing his attention to him. "I don't know why the TARDIS decided to bring us here, if I could ask her I would...but she knows what she's doing. She sees the past, the present and the future and when she brought you here it was for a reason. I know you are still grieving and there is nothing wrong with that but perhaps she just wanted you to be able to see him one last time at a time where seeing him and him seeing you would not blow a hole in the fabric of time."

John quirked an eyebrow.

"Wibbly-wobbly, time-wimey." Answered the Doctor and John's other eyebrow joined the first on his forehead.

"Sherlock can't see you at a point in time where he'll remember seeing you before the day you first met."

John's brow shifted back into place as he nodded in understanding. "And him being ten years old..." Then his brow furrowed. "But he's Sherlock...he remembered a suspicious murder from when he was a kid surely he could still remember-"

"Yes he'd remember a murder of course, something that intrigued him, but not some random bloke he ran into on the street during one of the many fights with his brother."

"Right." John muttered with a nod.

The Doctor cast him a small smile. "I'm sorry John, if this hurt more than it helped but I promise next time I will do the driving and I know the perfect destination that is far away from any version of Sherlock Holmes."

John bit down on his lip thoughtfully and stood in frozen silence for a moment before slowly glancing up at the Doctor.

"You said that I could choose the destination, if I wanted to?"

The Doctor seemed surprised by the question but eagerly nodded. "Yes, of course."

John nodded, seeming to contemplate for a few seconds longer and then his lips twitched.

"I know where I want to go."