A/N: Hi, thanks for being so patient while I wrote chapter two! (I also made a few minor changes to some of the wording in chapter one.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review. :)

John blinked at Mrs. Hudson, at a loss for words. Could this be one of Sherlock's experiments or did Mrs. Hudson really not recognize him? "Where's Sherlock?" John asked.

"Probably off on some case, he helps the detectives down at Scotland Yard," Mrs. Hudson informed him. Then, she concernedly asked, "Do you still need a phone, dear?"

John turned to leave with a gruff, "No, thanks." He shut the door behind him and flagged down a cab. "Scotland Yard," he directed the cabby.

When they arrived at the station, John handed the driver some money and bounded into the building, taking the steps up to Lestrade's floor two at a time. When he reached it, he pushed open the doors and began his descent to the detective's office. As he walked by, he noticed several pairs of eyes on him. A bit uneasy, he continued his stride until he made it to the door with the sign D.I. LESTRADE. He entered immediately and said, "Sorry to bother you at work but has Sherlock been around here?"

Lestrade looked up from his paper and said, "Who are you?" Again with this, John thought.

"Very funny, Greg. Where's Sherlock? I need to speak with him," John replied impatiently.

The detective inspector rose to his full height and said, "His whereabouts are confidential information at the moment. Who's asking?"

"Confidential? I'm asking!" John insisted, his face growing hot with frustration.

"Well, unless you have some type of relation to the case or authority at Scotland Yard then I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Greg said in a condescending way. John didn't know what was going on, but he decided that Sherlock was at the root of it somehow.

He shifted uncomfortably and said, "Can I at least borrow your phone?" Lestrade complied and handed over his cell phone. John punched in the digits and held it to his ear

"Yes?" Sherlock's voice answered. John breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, some normalcy.

"Did you put them up to this?" John asked accusingly.

There was a pause. Then, "Who is this?"

John was fed up with this act. He spoke angrily into the phone, "This is really getting old, Sherlock."

"What is?" he asked, evidently sincere. Realizing that Sherlock honestly had no idea who John was, he slowly pulled the phone from his ear and hung up.

"You alright, mate?" Lestrade asked, hesitantly reaching for the phone. John handed it to him and walked out.

What on earth was going on? Why didn't anyone remember who he was? He returned to Baker Street and let himself in, careful not to alert Mrs. Hudson. He went upstairs to the flat and walked into his room, but it was empty. All of his belongings were missing. John lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, hoping to God that his life would return to normal when he woke up.

Was he ever wrong. He awoke early the next morning and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, panicking when he saw the bareness of his room. Before he had the chance to cry out in confusion, he recalled the strange events of the previous night. He had been sure it was a dream, but not so much anymore.

Then John remembered the Doctor and the TARDIS. This must have something to do with him, John concluded. The Doctor had said that the TARDIS was some sort of space ship time machine. If the Doctor had been telling the truth and wasn't just a raving lunatic, then that could mean John had gone back in time. It was completely mad, but it was the theory that made the most sense at the moment.

John needed to do some research. He stood up and peeked out of his bedroom door. He could see Sherlock sitting at his desk, probably examining something through his microscope. His laptop lay on the armchair by the fireplace. John just needed to retrieve the computer without being seen.

He silently began to tiptoe across the room, managing to get the laptop and almost make it back to his room before a voice said, "Sleep well?" John cringed at the sound of Sherlock's voice. He spun around and saw the detective still had his back turned. He obviously wasn't too shaken by the fact that a stranger had spent the night in his flat.

John was ready to retreat to the bedroom and lock the door behind him, but he didn't want to start off on the wrong foot. He also didn't want to speak too much with Sherlock until he knew the situation. "Can I borrow your computer?" he asked.

"By all means," Sherlock replied, sounding bored. John didn't know what to say so he returned to the bedroom.

He sat at the bare desk and opened the laptop. The corner of the screen read 8:57 AM John hovered over the time to see that the date read June 1, 2012. So if he hadn't gone back in time, what had happened? He googled 'John Watson', expecting all of the newspaper articles on Sherlock Holmes to come up. To his surprise, not a single one appeared in the results. He surfed through dozens of pages of search results but there was nothing that related to the army doctor himself. He typed in the address of his blog only to receive a server error.

"We're sorry, that URL does not exist," it read, and then went on to list possible related searches. John closed the window and stumbled backwards, landing on the bed. His head was spinning as he wondered where the Doctor had taken him. Everything was normal except for one thing – there was no record of a John Watson. It was as if he had never existed.

He ran through a list of all the sci-fi movies he had ever seen. He was in a world almost identical to his own, but there was one big difference. It was like a parallel world. That was the only explanation John could come up with, and it seemed to fit.

John was not okay with this parallel universe – he wanted to get back to his own universe. He just needed to find out how. The Doctor was probably his best bet, unless there was someone else who owned a time travelling space ship. Still, there was no way to get into contact with the Doctor, he could be anywhere in time and space by now! The situation was very not good and made John want to crawl back into bed and sleep.

Instead, he returned to the computer and did a search for 'the doctor tardis'. He perused through search results for over an hour, but he didn't find much. There was a man who claimed to have met the Doctor and a few blurry photos of a blue telephone box. The only useful information he had come across was the name 'Torchwood'. It was some sort of secret organization that was related to the Doctor, and it was the only lead.

John did not look forward to facing this Sherlock, but it was inevitable. He needed to find Torchwood and for that he would have to consult a detective.