A/N: Sorry for not updating, I just never really realised that a lot of you people actually wanted to read this story.
Forgive me? Welp, I was too coaght up with drawing other fandoms I sort of set this aside.
As usual, I am updating again (yearly? that's bad). D:

Chapter 8: Pale Child

"Hey, hey you wake up."

"The other one dissipated."

"Did anyone catch a glimpse of were the subject went?"

"Cameras malfunctioned and shut down."

Blurry, things were so blurry. There were voices everywhere, so distant and disoriented like static, like far-away voices. Where was he, where was this? John blinked to a view of a bunch of people crowded around him, well the fuzziness was starting to fade a way by now.

"He's awake! Human subject is awake!" One of the people within the crowd shouted.

Wait, human? Where did that human go, the one who looked like him; it shouldn't be hard to find the guy who punched him in the face and John certainly wasn't the 'human subject'.

"Where, where's that guy," John's throat felt parched.

"Sir, he disappeared a few seconds after the punch landed."

"Disappeared? Like gone, poof, magic?" John's eyes widened and he swallowed hard, "How- then what did you mean by 'human subject'?"

By now the group of people retreated back at a safe distance and were watching him, one person stepped forward cautiously. John was confused, why were they backing up from him.

"Sir, we can't comprehend what exactly you are trying to say. Certainly you fall under the human category, what else could you be? The unknown entity disappeared once you, sir, landed the impact; if you are scared for your life it is quite alright seeing it disappeared without a trace upon contact."

No, no, no, no, no, no- That wasn't right, it was supposed to be the other way around; John was the one punched in the face and he never punched anyone in the face at least a few minutes or hours ago.

"Sir-?"

"NonONononoNoNOnon- I'm not. I'm not-"

Shut up already, I was wondering when you would realise.

John yelped loudly causing his momentary hyperventilation to choke him.

"Sir, are you alright?" Another person stepped closer to help.

Don't answer to him, and will you please stop the waterworks, I thought you were a grown man.

"Wha-" John blinked away the tears collecting in his eyes. The voice seemed to groan loudly before becoming silent again, but where was it coming from? None of the other people spoke after the last one asked how was he, so who?

Whatever happens, I'd suggest for you to be quiet. ... So we can head out of here.

'Mister Holmes entering the premises all evacuate the room.'

John noticed everyone was piling out of the room rapidly, wait a sec, his hearing was still fine. Although, the voice that told him to be quite was something else, it sounded like it was coming out from his mind. He shook his head violently. Geez, of course the world had to be a confusing place, and it just so happened that it decided to start picking on him.

So maybe at this point he should accept that he was going mental. Because spirits do not ever turn into a solid form, especially overnight; let alone change their overall appearance entirely.

But human. Human?

"Doctor John Hamish Watson, apologies for having to put you through all this trouble."

John looked up to see Mycroft standing at the entrance of the door. How can the British Government act so differently after kidnapping him from the middle of the night and forcing him to come here, now Mycroft was smiling an exasperated face full of pity at him.

What in the world.

Please, don't tell me you haven't realised it yet.

"What-" No John, think mentally, Who are you?

By now everything around the spirit was drowning out; John barely acknowledged the older Holmes' faux smile and that he was being escorted out the building.

Get out of my freaking body already.

John just noticed he barely made it out of the building.

In addition to that fact, he took a deep breath after noticing that he was holding his breath for a while.

"Sir. Mister Holmes wisely advised for you to leave. A car will arrive soon and lead you back to your flat, he sends his regrets."

John turned around just in time to catch a glance of a few locks of dark brown hair before it disappeared from his sight. A feeling of déjà vu crawled up his back.

The silent sound of the brakes catches his attention once more, the car that that lady just talked about must have arrived.

Already John felt uneasy as he entered the car, when he asked the driver where they were going the only response he received was silence. By flat, did that lady mean Sherlock's because it was really the only home he could think of other than the house where Harry was residing.

That reminded him, the human. It should be safe to talk the the voice now.

Hey. Um, you awake?

...

No response huh, maybe it was his conscious. After all and those last words he heard were just Mycroft's grand illusions.

You really think so?

"Cheese-it's!"

John grinned at the driver who was staring at him from the rearview mirror, apparently they already arrived at their destination. The spirit hurriedly thanked the driver and quickly exited the vehicle, hoping he didn't act too strange on the ride or else he'd have to deal with Mycroft again.

If you're going to stand out here all night, sure, but that's my body you're in right now. The key's wedged behind the wall light.

John tiptoed to reach behind the lamp, "So you're the guy who punched me in the face earlier?"

Yeah, sorry about that; that's probably why we're in this situation in the first place. My name's Watson, Captain John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers.

The feeling of dread over-powered the sound of keys clattering on the floor.

This was probably a conversation he never expected himself to be caught in.

Then again, with all the chaos going around right now it wasn't to hard for the guardian patron to become convinced that he was in another person's body, or his counterpart's body. Or be in a different world where he looked older, and was taller, and was visible to the human eye. They even shared the same status, even for imaginary standards.

"Aw cripes," John gaped at nothingness.

Don't tell me, you have the same name as me? This has something do with us getting kidnapped... Right?

"But it's impossible, never had something like this happened before. Spirits aren't supposed to have human counterparts," John was babbling to himself as he swiped the keys off the ground, " No such thi-"

What the fuck, spirits?

Shoot did he say that out loud, John felt his blood freeze. Was it his blood anyway, was this now his body, did his thoughts even have any privacy any more? The spirit was just making himself more anxious and confused by the minute. It was already bad that he wasn't under normal imaginary spirit conditions, but this situation at the moment was even worse than before. Maybe, maybe some explanation was the best choice at the moment.

"Mind your language," John blurted out, nearly face-palming himself. Not what he was trying to say.

Sorry... Whoa, what the heck?

"No I'm sorry for getting you into this mess in the first place," John felt himself calm down as he sympathised with his counterpart.

"I don't know how-" he gestured to himself before inserting the key into the lock, "this happened."

And I don't know why I lost control there, I wasn't trying to say sorry. Well..., John felt the voice scowl, I am sorry now, it just slipped out.

The spirit giggled, it was kind of funny how they crossed paths. Although, were they supposed to meet anyway, because there had to be at least one event in history similar to theirs. It would suck if he was stuck like this forever. A cold draft of the room paused his train of thoughts.

"Someone's in here," John whispered to his counterpart. He could feel the presence of his counterpart tense up as he edged closer to the centre of the small flat.

Go for it. In three, two, one. Now!

As soon as John entered the small lounge, the presence of a young child filled his senses before his eyes registered what was in front of him.

If John wasn't panicking before, he definitely was panicking now.

Obviously this kid sitting in front of him wasn't his counterpart's, heck the guy only told him when to advance. It was a peculiar sight, even as a specialised medical-soldier spirit, he's never seen a child with a head full of silver hair before especially this late in the melanocyte-clock. There also wasn't any sick or unhealthy vibe coming from the boy.

Even more disturbing was that there was no spirit nearby, but there definitely was a spiritual barrier around the living room before he stepped into it.

What is it? The voice hissed, I was hinting for you to flip on the light not freeze there with your arm stretched out.

You can't see what I'm seeing? There's a boy with silver-coloured hair in front of us.

I can't anything, it's pitch black-

"Mister?"

John swallowed loudly, of course he'd forget that he could still use his powers even if he wasn't really considered an imaginary spirit any more. Adjusting his eyes back to normal vision was easy, but that was what scared him. With "normal human" vision he couldn't see anything, just darkness, but how did the kid know he was there.

The spirit blinked back to his normal vision, where he could see the kid once again. The boy was staring at him more likely behind him, John saw nothing when he turned around quickly.

"Are there lights in the room? Can Mister turn them on?" The boy continued to stare past him.

"How can you see me?" John warily reached for the wall once more.

"Wow, you speak with your mouth closed?"

Where's that voice coming from? Hey, you there?

That's when it snapped. Oh. Oh! OH! John felt his fingertips brush against the flip, "Alright Mister's gonna show a magic trick, but you have to close your eyes first."

John flipped on the light as soon as he saw the boy cover his eyes.

"You can take them off now, kiddo," John hoped that his belief was right, he waited as the boy uncovered his face.

"Whoa! That'sa neat trick, now you made two of you!"