Doctor Whooves; Series 1

by Tiedye3000

Rating: teen
Tags: Derpy Hooves, Crossover, Alternate Universe, Doctor Whooves, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Adventure
Length: 10114

A crossover between Doctor Who and MLP.

This is a crossover between Doctor Who and MLP. This is a series of events all leading to one conclusion, which probably won't end well. The Doctor experiences very strange settings that he has never encountered, such as the Mirrorverse, or the Astilights. This is the story of how the Doctor became what he thought impossible. This is the story of Doctor Whooves.

Published 2012-01-20 00:10:48 UTC
Last updated 2012-05-07 20:47:23 UTC

Sudden Changes

The planet of Astil, the biggest planet in its universe, with its large golden ring swirling endlessly through it, swam through the outer reaches of space. It had no known life on its surface, no known food, and no known markings. All it was known for was being the only planet to have the ability to move. It hadn't just been in one galaxy, but nearly 2,000. Its climates kept changing along with it as it went, picking up more sightings as moved from galaxy to galaxy. But never in its history has it ever been seen to inhabit two strangers who crash-landed on its' surface. Only once has anyone ever been there, and only once. It was certainly an unexpected sight to astronomers all over space to see a flying blue telephone box hurtling towards it.

"Ditzy!" Called the Doctor as he held onto the main console in the control room to his crashing ship, "We're probably going to crash who-knows-where in the year who-knows-when unless you do me a quick favor!"
"And what would that be?" Ditzy Doo (or Derpy Hooves) called back from the opposite side.
"I need you," the Doctor yelled, "too eat this apple! Don't miss it!"
He tossed an apple across the shaking TARDIS to his companion, who almost missed it. She looked taken aback by this unusual command, but, knowing the Doctor, knew it must be important. She stuffed the entire thing into her mouth and swallowed it hardly without chewing.
"Whoa," the Doctor gasped, "I didn't know ponies could do that! I should try that some time. I wonder if it would work with an orange-?"
"Doctor!" Ditzy shouted desperately.
"Right!" The Doctor said, coming back to the present (or future, or past) and pulling a lever. The TARDIS began emitting a series of whooshing noises as it started its landing cycle.
"Now, Ditzy," the Doctor explained carefully as the TARDIS continued to shake, "I have no idea what or when will be out there, so I need you to remain with me if anything bad happens, unless I tell you otherwise, understand?"
Ditzy nodded her reply.
"Good, then off we go!" He galloped toward the door as the whooshing ended and the TARDIS stopped shaking. He fumbled the door handle with his hoofs. "I still haven't exactly conquered the strange requirement to use hoofs for everything instead of hands, could you get the door for me?"
"You're gonna have to learn sometime," Ditzy said as she walked to the door. She turned the handle easily and opened the door to a view of one the dullest planets she had ever seen.
"Ah, thank you, dear," the Doctor said happily as he walked out, "I still wonder how you do it, though."
"It just takes some practice, is all," she reassured him, "It took me years to figure it all out."
"Years, you say?" The Doctor asked, looking around at the sky.
"Yes, years. I was a bit slower on the uptake then the other fillies my age."
"A bit expected, if I do say so myself," the Doctor stated, eyeing the horizon.
"What?" Ditzy asked in an offended tone, "That I'd be the last of my age group to learn how to be a pony?"
"Are you still on that?" The Doctor asked in a surprised tone as he turned to face Ditzy, "No, I was talking about the scenery. It certainly fits with this incredible heat. And look around you! Apart from us and the TARDIS, there's nothing else to be seen. Not even the ground has anything on it." He bent to the ground underneath him and began prodding it with his hoofs, not making a dent in it. "No grass, no sand, no dirt, no soil, no flowers." He got up again and slowing revolved on the spot. "No civilizations, no geographic features, no water, no fire, no cold, a bit of heat. Other than that, nothing. Nothing whatsoever."
"Doctor," Ditzy asked suspiciously, "Where are we?"
The Doctor didn't answer at first. He was still looking around at the surroundings. Finally, after about a minute, he turned and looked at Ditzy reproachfully.
"I dunno," he said simply, "For once I have no clue."
"But you have too have some idea!" Ditzy asked, "You're the Doctor!"
"No clue," he repeated, "You can't expect me to know everything, Ditzy. I've never seen this planet before. Nine hundred years of time traveling and I've never even caught a glimpse. I don't know what we'll meet or what we'll see."
"What will we do, then?" Ditzy asked nervously.
"Good point, I forgot about that part," the Doctor answered, "This is a completely new experience for the both of us. There's nothing around here, probably nothing anywhere. As far as I know, we're no where."
They looked at each other for a moment, neither saying anything.
"It's really hot out here," Ditzy complained, "Can we go inside?"
"Yeah, we should probably go," the Doctor agreed, "Being on a hostile planet that has extreme heat with no sun has to be a bad place."
"No sun!?" Ditzy screamed as her blonde mane whipped up toward the sky. There, she could see a blue atmosphere without a sun. "How is that possible?"
"I think I'm starting to remember." The Doctor said with his thinking face on. Suddenly he had an uneasy face, and he turned his head quickly Ditzy. "We need to get out of here."
"What?" Ditzy asked, but the Doctor had already taken her by the arms and began galloping quickly back to the TARDIS. He shoved her rudely inside and locked the door hurriedly behind them.
"Doctor!" Ditzy called to him as he raced to the control panel. He threw on his glasses and rapped the screen of one of the monitors.
"I knew it!" He shouted triumphantly, "We're not just no where, we're not anywhere! We're on the planet that doesn't stay still! Those rocks outside weren't there before, and... oh, look! They've gone again!"
Ditzy approached the monitor to view the exterior of the TARDIS, and weather patterns kept changing: First it was raining, then snowing, then a drought, etc.
"But that doesn't make sense!" Ditzy gasped.
"Exactly!" The Doctor said excitedly, "Nothing makes sense here! This is the only planet where nothing makes sense! The weather changes miraculously, the settings change randomly... Ditzy, this is the only planet in the entire solar system that even moves! This is the planet Astil! That's why the TARDIS went out of control unexpectedly. That's why there's no sun!"
He looked both ecstatic and disinclined.
"So why do we have to go?" Ditzy asked disconcertingly, "It sounds like fun!"
"If nothing makes sense, then neither will the science. One of us could die randomly, or we could get stuck in quicksand and then freeze into rock, or I could regenerate for no purpose, et cetera, et cedera. I don't want to go yet, and I've already done it nine times, why do I have to do it ten?"
"But if nothing making sense makes sense, then wouldn't some things not making sense make sense?"
"Don't confuse me about this!" The Doctor shrieked, and, without warning, he began twisting nobs and pushing buttons on the main control panel very violently.
"What are you doing?" Ditzy continued her asking.
"Taking us home, or at least our planet," he said, but just then one of the controls caught fire and immediately extinguished itself, and then flickered back on. Another control burst apart and then repaired itself again, but almost instantly split apart again.
"No!" The Doctor yelled, "No, no, no, not in my TARDIS!" He whipped out his sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the fires and exploding objects. They slowed down, and then stopped completely at their original state.
"What was that?" Ditzy asked, horrified at the sudden chaos, "A time loop?"
"No," he said, putting away his sonic, "It was worse. Much, much worse."
And then, without anything to show a warning, the TARDIS shut down. The lights blinked out, the switches turned off, and a low whistle drowned and died. Everything had gone offline.
Ditzy and the Doctor remained there in silence, looking around at the dark interior.
"Doctor-" Ditzy began, but the Doctor raised a hoof.

"That's enough questions for an hour, I think," he said with a reluctant look on his face. He sighed. "I'm afraid the TARDIS has died. I have no idea when she'll be back up again, but with this planet, nothing is predictable."

"So, explain to me how this all works," Ditzy said as she and the Doctor walked through a jungle, "We were just walking through what could've been the Sierras, now we're walking through what looks like Africolt. But inside the TARDIS the scenery changed quickly, almost too quickly for my eyes to catch. Not that I can really catch anything with these." She added, pointing to her crossed pupils.
"Um, yeah," The Doctor said awkwardly, "Uh... how to put this delicately... there's a reason why this planet can move, and it's because... well... the planet's a living creature. And when ever it moves, the scenery and weather changes along with it. It's why we're hardly meeting anything. Well, other than plants, I suppose. Good day to you, sir." He said to a tree branch. He took hold of it and shook it merrily, breaking it off its tree.
"Yes, I suppose," Ditzy said, looking strangely a the Doctor. He looked thoughtfully at the branch he was holding and tossed it behind him. He beamed and continued walking with Ditzy.
"I need to meet what I can," the Doctor shrugged.
"So," she continued, "the reason why the scenery and weather aren't changing now is because the planet (or what ever it is) isn't moving?"
"Precisely," he said proudly, "Couldn't have put it better myself! All though I think I would've said something around the lines of 'The cause of the atmospheric and hemispheric transformation is due to the fact of the planetary movement, and thus cannot convert until the alien life form piloting itself moves to a separate location', but that's beside the point. We can't wander too far from the TARDIS, otherwise we may miss the chance it powers back on again."
"So what do we do in the meantime?" Ditzy asked in a bored tone, "There's nothing to do here! If this planet is so random, why is it still so boring?"
"Give it time," the Doctor said, "It should happen any second now..."
Then suddenly, the setting changed rapidly again. The jungle had vanished, and it was replaced with city in ruins. The weather was first hailing, then sleeting. It then began raining fish, then hotdogs, and then ice cream.
"What in Equestria?" Ditzy said shockingly as the ice cream turned to chocolate.
"We're not in Equestria," The Doctor said as the chocolate turned into pink hair, "We're on Astil."
"Why is the weather acting like this?" Ditzy asked as the hair turned into bouncy balls.
"I think it's because the creature is gaining speed," the Doctor said, "The more coal used on a train, the faster it goes. Extremely random things are falling out of the sky now, and I expect that counts as energy for the beast."
"So the thing causing the randomness is basically creating its own fuel?"
"That's what they'd say to simple minded ponies, yes," the Doctor said rudely, "The creature --it's called an Astilight, by the way-- is in charge of its own weather, meaning it can make the sky do anything. Look at the clouds." He pointed to the sky, and Ditzy looked up to see shapes in the clouds. It was now raining ping pong balls.
"So what?" She said, "Clouds make shapes all the time. We pegasi, while on duty, love making shapes in the clouds when we schedule showers or storms. It brightens the moods and entertains the ponys!"
"Yeah," the Doctor agreed, still looking at the clouds, "That's certainly entertaining all right."
Ditzy looked back up and let out a gasp of shock and surprised humor. The clouds were shaped as various things doing different stuff; one cloud looked like three fillies playing skip rope; one looked like a colt eating ice cream.
"I've noticed the balls falling from the sky are increasing in size," he said, and Ditzy looked up and nearly got her head taken off by a falling bowling ball. "We should probably check back with the TARDIS now."
"Naw, I'm enjoying the bowling ball rain," Ditzy said sarcastically, "Maybe I'll get my boots on later and go splashing in puddles!"
The Doctor burst out laughing. "Ponies? In rain boots? I've never thought of that before! Oh, what a sight that would be!"
A bowling ball landed inches away from Ditzy and bounced right off the ground as if it were rubber. Ditzy shrieked and took off running.
"Ditzy!" The Doctor called after her, "Ditzy, come back, the TARDIS is this way!"
Ditzy continued to run passed the ruined buildings while continuing to dodge the bowling balls. One struck her hind hoof and she tumbled in pain, falling to the ground as she did so. She rolled onto her back and looked up to see it was now raining boulders, and one was headed right her her head.
"Well, goodbye world, or Astilight, I guess," she mumbled, and braced for death. But instead of the sound of a falling rock and the feeling of her head being squashed, she instead heard an electric whooshing noise, a sonic buzzing, and felt tiny stones tapping her facial features. She opened her eyes to see the Doctor smiling down at her, the sonic screwdriver in his mouth.
"Up you go," he grunted through his teeth as he helped her up, "Onwards and upwards!"
Ditzy staggered to stand up right and looked behind the Doctor to see that the TARDIS had rebooted.
"Doctor, a boulder hit my leg," she moaned when she tried to walk as she boulders fell behind her, "I think it's broken."
"Never fear!" He said as he took her shoulder and helped her inside, "The Doctor is in."
He sat Ditzy on a chair near the control panel and went to close the door, but he hesitated in doing so.
"What's wrong, Doctor?" Ditzy moaned.
"Nothing," the Doctor replied, "Just taking a last look before we leave." He reached his hoof out the door and brought it back in (obviously holding something) and closed the door. He spat out his screwdriver at the foot of the control panel and tucked whatever he had in his shirt pocket. He pulled a few levers and pushed a few buttons, and the familiar whooshing sound echoed through the room.
"Now, then," he said, walking over to Ditzy, "About your leg." He grabbed his sonic screwdriver in his hoofs (sloppily, but progressively) and buzzed it over her leg. "Just as you predicted, I'm afraid. That's a broken bone all right. It's okay, though, because that apple you ate earlier wasn't just an apple, but an apple grown specially on the planet Gravtin, the planet of health. That bone should grow back in just seconds by now.
"Then why did you say it would help with the landing?" Ditzy asked loudly.
"Well, you wouldn't have eaten it at the time if I told you it was just a regular apple," the Doctor said, checking his wrist watch, "Should be good by now. Go on, try it out!"
Ditzy readied her body for fall as she slowly ascended from the chair. But her hoof felt normal, as if it hadn't broken anything at all! She looked down at her hoof and wiggled it, then trotted around the TARDIS. When she stopped, she stared at the Doctor in wonder.
"There are things I still don't understand about you, Doctor," she said happily.
"You'd die before you knew even half of me," he chuckled, "Well, what do you say? Ready for a trip to the Moons of Cascade? I hear it's really fun floating around and trying to hold on!"
"Actually, Doctor, I think I'm done with traveling," Ditzy announced with a bit of reluctance, "I feel like you've shown me everything I never would've thought existed, and that's all I can ask for."
The Doctor looked at Ditzy with sudden sadness in his eyes. "I've taken you all across time and space, Ditzy. I think you may be right. Maybe it is time for you too go. But first, I need to ask you. Are you absolutely sure? I've had companions before who thought they wanted to go..."
The Doctor remembered a certain purple maned pony with a twinkle for a cutie mark.
"Yes, Doctor," Ditzy said, "I haven't seen Dinky in ages, and I'd like you to make it feel like it was only a few seconds. And who knows? Maybe I'll call you up again?"
"Ditzy," the Doctor said seriously, "Once you go, you're likely to never see me again."
Ditzy's lazy eyes suddenly grew larger than the bowling ball rain. She looked as if those eyes would leak a few rivers. But the Doctor couldn't choose for her. It was entirely up to her if she wanted to go.
The Doctor could see where this was going, and he broke eye contact with Ditzy and walked to the main controls of his ship. He began dialing the coordinates to Ditzy's time and destination, but a grey hoof touched his, and he stopped in surprise.
"Actually," said Ditzy, "I think one last trip to 1776 would help me with my history."
The Doctor looked up a Ditzy, who looked like she was on the verge of tears. He started to tear up as well, and he pulled her into a hug before he could stop himself, and she hugged him back.
"Right then!" He said, clearly and happily as he let her go, "To 1776! I hope you're feeling a bit rebellious, Ditzy Doo!"
Ditzy giggled, and the Doctor typed in the time coordinates.
"You know, I think I'll make it the middle of 1776," he said, and he typed in an extra .5 to the coordinates, "After all, awesomeness is .5!"
Ditzy smiled excitedly, and the Doctor grinned back at her as he pulled the lever, and the whooshing sound echoed throughout the TARDIS.

The Undead Revolution, Part 1

King Slumplort III, the ruler of Great Brittleton, was sitting on his throne in his palace, enjoying some refreshments brought from the royal butchers. He was sick and tired of the colonial battle he and his country were fighting in, the colonies could all die as far as he cared. If they wouldn't listen to his reasoning, why should he listen to theirs? In the middle of his thoughts, a pegasus pony burst into the palace, racing towards him and panting furiously. He stopped at the foot of Slumplort's throne and bowed.
"What do you want?" Slumplort grunted, "I did not summon you."
"Your Majesty," the pony said, "the message has been delivered and will reach the Colonies by midnight tomorrow."
"Very good," Slumplort praised carelessly, going back to his food, "You are a speedy messenger, are you not?"
"Fastest alive, sire, " the pegasus said proudly.
"Then why will it take all day and night?" Slumplort demanded angrily.
"But- I- there's," the pegasus stammered, "A storm is- is coming rather unexpectedly, Your Majesty."
"And you expect me to do something about it?" Slumplort had gotten off his throne and was marching directly to the pegasus, who cowered down, terrified, "You are a pegasus! You can out maneuver anything! You could even stop the storm from happening! Just move the clouds out of the way, you foal!"
"But sire," the pegasus squeaked, "That would take even longer!"
"Are you going against orders?" Slumplort bellowed.
"No, sire!"
"Are you planning a mutiny!?"
"No, I assure you, sire!"
"Necromancer!" Slumplort called down the palace hall.
"No!" The pegasus cried, "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I'm sorry!"
"Necromancer!" Slumplort continued to call, "Necromancer, I summon you!"

All the lights in the hall went out one by one, except one, which turned a green color. Everything was still and quiet. Then, the green flame stretched out and floated toward the pegasus, who tried to back away, but merely ran into Slumplort's legs. The green flame shot forward and went up the pegasus's nose, in his ears, and down his throat. He screamed a horrible, squelching shriek that echoed throughout the room, and the pegasus fell to the floor, motionless.

"Coming in on 1776.5!" The Doctor said as he worked on the landing the TARDIS, "We're going to be in the date of July 4th, the day the Declaration of Independence was signed. As your last trip, Ditzy, I wanted to give you a special date in which to land in."
"Doctor, this'll be fantastic!" Ditzy exclaimed excitedly, "A good farewell present! Exactly what I wanted! I can't wait to see President Scription!"
"President Scription?" Asked the Doctor, who was very interested in the ponies version of the past, "Which president was that?"
"Well," Ditzy began, "President Scription was the second president of Equestia, but he wasn't entirely in rule, due to the fact that Princess Celestia was still ruler. He just took orders from her directly and carried the message to the rest of Equestria, whether it was an attack preparation, or a special announcement. And now I get to meet him in person!"
"It sounds as though you are saying," said the Doctor, "that this is the pony version of Thomas Jefferson."
"Who?" Ditzy asked.
"Thomas Jefferson wasn't president in 1776," explained the Doctor, "In fact, there weren't any presidents back then. Or now, to be precise. And he was the second president of the United States, after George Washington, who was the first."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ditzy said, shaking her head, "But we have an entirely new time zone outside the TARDIS door! I say we go outside and explore."
"Hey!" The Doctor laughed as Ditzy opened the door, "That rhymed! I've alway tried to make a rhyme, but I'm always busy at the time... Oh! There's one!"
"Come on, Doctor!" Ditzy laughed as she ran out the door, but she almost immediately ran back in. "Nevermind." She said as she closed the door, looking terrified. "I think 1812 would be much better, now that I think about it."
"What are you talking about?" The Doctor asked as he trotted out the door, "What could possibly-?"
He stopped in mid-sentence as he gazed in sudden shock at his surrounding. They had certainly landed in the right year, but something was happening that didn't last time. The sky had deep red colored clouds covering it, and smoke was rising from one of the dozens of cottages surrounding the town they had landed within. Red coats and rebels alike were taking offensive position behind a barricade that isolated a bridge from the town, and they were firing their guns not at each other, but at one opponent, who seemed to be crawling toward them. About twelve dozen others were headed in the same direction, all crawling, and all being shot at.
"What in the name of time and space is going on here?" The Doctor said, aghast at the peculiar sight, "The reds and blues fighting side-by-side?"
"Are those...?" Ditzy stammered, looking at the crawling soldiers, "Are those zombie ponies?"
"Oh yes," the Doctor said, drawing his attention from the living to the dead, "Well, they probably are, but that's not the strange sight here."
"What?" Ditzy gasped, "Undead ponies coming back from the great beyond isn't a surprise to you?"
"All in the life of a Timelord," the Doctor winked, clicking his tongue, "Allons-y!"
"wait- DOCTOR!" Ditzy shouted as he raced into the on coming battle, heading directly toward the barricade.
"Oi!" Called an northern voice, "We got a live one!"
"Cease fire!" Called another voice as the Doctor ran to the front of the barricade, jumping over an undead red coat as he did so, "Let me see your skin!"
"Not infected!" The Doctor shouted as he held out each hoof, "Not infected! They haven't bit me, if that's how this works!"
"He's clean! Open the gate!"
A door opened just directly in front of the Doctor, and red coated ponies were ushering him in, but he was staring at how the gate had been in front of his face the entire time, and he never even noticed.
"That's oddly convenient," he said at last, and he ran inside, just as the red coats were shutting the gates.
"What the hay were you doing out there?" A rebel with a grey braided mane asked, "Were you trying to negotiate with those brainless things?"
"Actually, I was trying to run away from them," the Doctor said in an obvious tone, "My name is John Smith, by the way, I'm the director of the... um... Body Search and Rescue Squad, or the B.S.R.S., for short." He flashed the rebel his physic paper, and the rebel took it in his hoofs and stared at it for a while.
"What sort of name is John Smith?" He asked after about a minute, handing the Doctor his paper back, "Where are you from?"
"What sort of name is... ohhh," the Doctor said, suddenly remembering he was a pony now, "That's right, that's not gonna work here. My name is... er... Old Timer. I'm from Fillydelphia."
"So who's John Smith?" The rebel continued.
"Well," the Doctor said, "Forgive me for answering a question with a question, but who's asking?"
"Detective Tracer, P.V.P.D.," he answered showing him his badge, "And I can't say I've ever seen your face around there. Where've you been?"
"Out for my health," the Doctor improved, "Fresh air, and, well, a bit of vacation suited for these times. They have police departments in this year? That isn't right, the Bill of Rights wasn't written until 1791."
"Ramble all you like," Tracer said carelessly, "You're not off the hook, but I'm keeping an eye on you, buster."
"Please," the Doctor said, taking the hoof of the detective and shaking it firmly, "Call me the Doctor. Say, have you seen a grey pony around here? Lazy eyes? Bubble-"
A crash sounded a few feet away from them, and a cannon ball rolled between the Doctor and the detective. An "Ouch!" was heard not too long later.
"Never mind," said the Doctor, and he turned and trotted toward a grey pony, who was laying on the ground and had just knocked over a barrel of gun powder on her landing.
"Doing alright, Ditzy?" The Doctor asked as he helped the dizzy Ditzy Doo up from the ground.
"You deserted me!" Ditzy exclaimed angrily, "I can't fight zombies on my own, you know!"
"Yes, yes, I shouldn't have ran off so quickly," the Doctor admitted hurriedly, "But there's an even bigger issue going on. I just spoke with a detective, Ditzy. A detective, in the year 1776. Something's not right here."
A large explosion sounded, and the Doctor, caught unawares, stumbled to the ground covering his ears in pain. Ditzy was next to him, mimicking his movements as she rolled on the ground in agony. When the pain lessened, the Doctor looked up to see that the soldiers had rolled out cannons to defend against the enemy.
"You're supposed to shout when you fire a cannon, you twits!" The voice of Tracer shouted, "I can't afford new ears, you know!"

The Doctor crawled to Ditzy, who was still covering her ears. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her mouth sagging open in silent pain. He covered her body with his own, shielding her from the cannons as another went off unexpectedly. The Doctor's ear drums were popping out of his head, and he knew he had to get them out of there. He picked up Ditzy in his arms and stumbled out of the bunker, leaving the sound of the cannons and the zombie's groans far away from them. When the noise became distant, he collapsed to the ground once again, and let his body fade away from consciousness.

"I think he's awakening!"
"He's moving, all right."
"Go and get the other patient."
Several frantic voices were speaking very urgently, as if someone was late for an important occasion. The Doctor stirred as he regained consciousness, and groaned as a bright light burned through his eyes. He shielded them with his hoof, and he realized he was in a bed in an old cottage. He was placed by a window, and through it he could see that the sky had not changed since his fall. But something did change about the structure. It was no longer burning, there were no zombies, and most peculiar of all, no soldiers were anywhere to be seen.
A door opened, and the Doctor looked to see a very young filly enter the room. She couldn't have been more than eight. She walked over to a chair next to the bed and sat down, but did nothing other than stare at him. He looked back at her purple eyes without blinking, and nothing moved until the door opened a second time.
"Driva," a old pony scolded, "Leave the stallion alone."
"Oh, don't worry," the Doctor waved his hoof, still not taking his eyes not the filly, "the stallion doesn't mind."
The little filly and the Doctor continued to stare at each other as if their eyes were glued. Still not taking his eyes of the filly, the Doctor rose from his bed and slowly approached her. He waved his hoof between them, but she did not blink.
"Such concentration," the Doctor said, very interested in this little wonder gazing at him, "She doesn't seem to need to blink as much as others do, I haven't noticed her blink once. What's her name?" He asked the mare in the doorway.
"Driva," she answered, "Driva Ford. I would've suggested to not look into her eyes, because once you've started-"
"You can't look away," the Doctor finished her sentence, "I've known for about three minutes now. Don't worry, though, there's a way out."
The Doctor started making funny noises with his mouth. He stuck his tongue out and made an obscene noise, and the filly began to grin. He put his hoofs on his cheeks and moved them simultaneously and made a high pitched groaning sound. The filly began to giggle. Finally, he flared his nostrils and puffed his cheeks, and the filly burst into childish laughter, finally breaking eye contact and falling to the floor, her hoofs on her sides.
"Easy peasy, such a breezy," the Doctor said happily, now able to look around the room freely again. He got up and made his way to the mare at the door, whose eyes were darting from the filly, to the Doctor, and then the filly again.
"How did... no pony..." she was stammering, trying to make out the event that had just took place, "Sir, explain yourself."
"Explain myself?" The Doctor repeated, stopping just in front of her, "Well, I enjoy long walks on the beach, I hate pears, I'm a enlarging genius-"
"I mean how did you break eye contact with Driva?" The mare asked.
"Simple," the Doctor began, "Doctors, like myself, always say that laughter is the best medicine. In this case, the laughter of a small female pony, or a filly, stopped the process in which we exchanged visual sightings."
"Then why-"
"Now, now," the Doctor interrupted, "We all have questions, but I have a more urgent one. Could you refresh my memory and tell me where I am?"
"You're in my house," she answered quickly, "We found you and your friend out in the field outside town. What were you doing out there? Don't you know about the zombies?"
"Ditzy's here?" The Doctor asked, ignoring her questions and squeezing himself through the door into a large room, "Marvelous!"
As soon as the Doctor entered the new room, he was immediately reminded of "Bigger on the Inside". The room looked as though it belonged inside a cathedral instead of a small house, and yet there was still hardly any room to move around. Beds and couches were scattered throughout the entire premises, each filled with a different pony, Pegasi, Unicorns and Earth ponies alike.
"You call this a small room?" The Doctor asked incredulously, "Looks like there's enough room in here to swing a hundred cats!"
"Well, maybe it was a bit of an understatement," she said uncertainly, "But how did you know what to do about my daughter?"
"Your daughter?" The Doctor asked. He sighed, and a sad look spread over his face. "Your daughter has been subjected to a disease known as the Insertion Disease. It's caused by eye-contact with an individual who looks as though they've died years ago. Somepony whose flesh rots as if they've been decomposing for months. Do you know what I'm talking about?"
"The zombies?" She gasped.
"The zombies," the Doctor repeated, "She, your daughter, has at some point looked into the eyes of an Inserted. When did this happen?"
"Just a few hours ago," she answered, looking as though she'd burst into tears any second, "when we found you and your friend. About a dozen of them were closing in around you, so we shot them down. I think one might've still been alive, though, because Driva looked into it's open eyes and hasn't said a word sense. Oh, God, I'm so worried now!"
She had given up on holding back her tears, and she was fully crying now.
"She will get better," the Doctor reassured her as she wept, "She's only had it for a few hours, it takes 24 hours to take full effect."
"I-Is there a- a cure?" She asked through her tears.
"Not here there isn't," he answered sadly, "But Brittleton was known for having extreme remedies. I don't doubt for less than a minute they'd have something."
She continued to sob, and it was a good five minutes before she could talk again, which the Doctor used to search for Ditzy in the crowd of sleepers.
"I don't see her anywhere," he said aloud, "Where is she? I thought you said she was here?"
"She is," the mare answered, her voice heavy, but the tears had ceased, "She's in a special room. You were both in a right state when we brought you in."
"Now she tells me," the Doctor muttered to himself angrily, "What room is she in?"
The mare pointed to a door on the other side of the room, past at least ninety sleepers.
"Right, it's never easy, is it?"
"Just don't try to wake any of them."
"And one more question," the Doctor said, "I heard voices when I was awakening, one of them saying, 'Go wake the other patient'. But Ditzy isn't up! Who were they talking about?"
"That was my brother," she answered, her voice starting to return to its' normal, motherly voice, "He went to go find your friend."
"My friend is Ditzy Doo," the Doctor said seriously, "Her nickname is Derpy Hooves, she's extremely clumsy, she's really sweet, her eyes cross, and she's grey with a bubble cutie mark. Where is she?"
"We didn't find anyone like that with you. We only found a male pony with a blue coat a few inches away from you. He looked like-"
"A blue rebel with a grey braided mane," the Doctor finished her sentence. Everything made sense now, and as he talked, a door at the end of a hall opened up, and out clopped Detective Tracer, the pony who had interviewed him from earlier. He was no longer wearing his rebel outfit, but a grey tuxedo with a red tie.
"You!" Tracer shouted, stomping threw the hall and disregarding the sleeping ponies, "You ran from me! I wasn't done with you!"
The Doctor only stared at him for a few seconds, then turned to face the mare, speaking in a very surprised tone. "You thought he was a girl?"
"I'll be asking the questions this time!" Tracer yelled roughly, "And one of them would be about these clothes, considering I didn't put them on me, but I don't think you would know that. But nonetheless, why did you run? Do you have something to hide?
"I had to find my friend," the Doctor answered, his voice leveled as Tracer reached him, glaring him in the eye.
" 'You had to find your friend'! Tracer mocked, "Right, and did you?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, I did."
"Really, now?"
"Yes."
"Then where is this friend?"
"I don't know."
Tracer continued to glare at him, and then he turned and marched down the hall a few paces; the Doctor noticed that some of the ponies had awaken and were watching the fireworks.
"So you don't know?" Tracer asked, "But you found her?"
"That's right," the Doctor said, turning around and walking out the front door, "And now I need to find her again."
He never thanked the mare for housing him as he regained his strength, or for the fact that she saved his life. he never found out her name, either. He just gathered his belongings and headed out the front door with the impossible Detective Tracer rammering questions in his ear every second he could, some of them he repeated.
"Why do you keep running? Do you have something to hide? Whose house was I just in? WHO THE HAY ARE YOU!?"
Eventually, after half an hour of walking, the Doctor finally cracked under the stress and grabbed Tracer by the collar of his suit and pulled him closer to his face.
"I'm the Doctor," he said angrily through gritted teeth, "I'm a Timelord. I'm of an alien species from the planet Gallifrey in the Constellation of Kasterborous, and I'm not the man who will be healing you when someone finally bucks you in the chin."
He let the shocked detective go and continued walking. Tracer was so shocked it took him a while to realize the Doctor had released him, and he trotted back up to keep up with him.
"Care to tell me where we're going?"
A threatening glare from the Doctor told him to shut up, which he did.
Hours passed as they continued to walk, and the Doctor began to wonder if they were going the right way. It should've opened by now...
"I've answered plenty of questions for you, 'Detective'," the Doctor finally said, "Now it's your turn to answer some of mine: Where are you from, what year were you born, and where did you get those clothes?"
"I suppose it's only fair," Tracer agreed, "I was born in Brittleton, raised in Brittleton, lived in Equestria. That's where I developed my Equestrian accent, but I never truly got rid of the Brittlish side of it. Every now and then I still say "Con't" instead of "Can't", and, oh, how I've been bullied because of that."
"I don't believe you," the Doctor said, which surprised Tracer immensely.
"Why not? That's my life, at least what I can remember of it."
"Where did you get that suit?"
Tracer's surprise changed to confusion, "Is it important?"
The Doctor shrugged, "Meh, I suppose not. What year were you born in?"
"1758."
"Of course, of course. I like your hat, by the way."
"Doctor, what are you playing at?"
The Doctor stopped and looked at Tracer, a very reluctant look on his face, as if there was something he needed to say but didn't want to say it. He up a hoof on Tracer's shoulder, and said seriously, "You're not from this time period, detective. The fact that you ARE a detective gives it away completely, the police themselves weren't around until 1830."
Tracer stared at the Doctor, surveying his eyes, looking for some sign that said that this was a joke. But the Doctor would have to be a very good actor if he wasn't telling the truth.
"How do you know this?"
"I told you, I'm a Timelord."
"You're an alien that travels in time?"
"Yes," the Doctor said, "And I'm afraid there's more than one of me if you were able to get outside of your timezone."
The Doctor released Tracer, but immediately found this to be a mistake as the detective toppled over face-first into the ground. He had fainted.

The Undead Revolution, Part 2

PREVIOUSLY:
"Are those zombie ponies?"
"Not infected! Not infected!"
"Were you trying to negotiate with those brainless things?"
"Such concentration. She doesn't seem to need to blink as much as others do, I haven't noticed her blink once."
"Your daughter has been subjected to a disease known as the Insertion."
"I-Is there a- a cure?"
"Not here there isn't, but Brittleton was known for having extreme remedies."
"You! You ran from me!"

"You're not from this time period, detective. And I'm afraid there's more than one of me if you were able to get outside of your timezone."

"Ditzy is missing, I have no leads, but there's only one place on this world where those things could've come from. Only one person - or pony - that I know of could've messed this timeline up. Only one, the one I hate to remember."
The Doctor said this aloud to himself as the whirring of the TARDIS echoed throughout the control room; they had just taken off for Great Brittleton. He had taken Tracer back to the TARDIS on his own, which meant fighting through an enormous group of flesh-rotten Inserted. He managed it in the end, of course, nothing he couldn't handle.
Tracer had been unconscious the entire time, he had taken such a huge blow from the news he received. The Doctor could hardly imagine what other ponies had been pulled out of their time and into a different one, but who ever it was, they weren't stopping. He knew for a fact that it wasn't the Weeping Angels, because the touch of an Angel merely zapped someone into the past without any idea how they got there. Tracer had thought he'd lived here his entire life. It would be nearly impossible to find any other ponies who are out of date.
The rumbling of the TARDIS was probably what awoke Tracer. As he stirred, he rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust them to the bright light that poured into them. When his eyes finally focused again, he looked around the interior and nearly fainted a second time; his eyes rolled back, he groaned, and the back of his head smacked the floor with a thud.
"It's too much," he grumbled, "It's just too much."
"Welcome inside the TARDIS, my friend," the Doctor said, still working the controls.
"TARDIS," Tracer repeated, "Where have I heard that name before?"
"We're going to Great Brittleton, to answer your earlier question," the Doctor spoke, not listening to the detective, "I have a feeling that's where Ditzy is. I have a feeling that's where the Inserted came from in the first place."
"What makes you say that?"
"Haven't you noticed? It's always Brittleton for some reason."
Tracer chuckled, "Yeah, it's pretty crazy over there. Slumplort is a terrible ruler."
"Slumplort?" The Doctor asked, suddenly turning and looking down at him, "Who's... ohhh, that's right."
"Slumplort III," Tracer said, then he scoffed, "What an idiot. I'm glad I moved out of Brittleton when I..."
His voiced trailed off, remembering that that part of his life was a lie.
"We'll get your real memories back," the Doctor promised, "Trust me on that."
Tracer grinned, and he got to his hoofs and walked over to the control panel.
"So what is this thing?" He asked curiously.
"The Time And Relative Dimensions In Space," the Doctor said proudly, "Or 'TARDIS' for short. I sometimes just call it the telephone box, the police box, even Sexy at times."
"Why do you call it that?"
"Do you remember that blue box that appeared out of nowhere at the fort?"
"Yeah, but that was just a small blue box... are you saying that we're in the box right now?"
"Indeed."
For a third time, Tracer nearly fainted, but he caught his balance this time and merely stumbled.
"But that means it's... it's..."
The Doctor braced himself for his favorite part of making new companions.
"...It's smaller on the outside!"
"Exactl- wait, what?" The Doctor was a bit startled, no one ever put it that way before.
"The outside is smaller than the inside!" Tracer said exasperatedly, "The inside's bigger than the outside! It's bigger on the inside!"
"There it is!" the Doctor said loudly, and triumphantly.
"But what is it?" Tracer asked, still mesmerized and looking around at the flashing buttons and glowing lights, "I know it's some sort of time machine, but how does it do the whole... thing?"
"Timelord Science. In other words, it's another dimension."
"And what's a 'Police Box', anyway?"
"Well," the Doctor prepared for a very long explanation, "The TARDIS isn't really a police box, think of it more as a spaceman's UFO. But the police box comes from the year 1963, where they were used as quick-access imprisonment for crooks until they were sent to prison. But this particular type of police box was used for making short-term phone calls if no others were nearby when someone got injured, mugged, shot, killed, yadda-yadda-yadda.
"Now, the TARDIS had this function called a Cameleon Circuit, which enabled the TARDIS to have the ability to change it's appearance. A disguise, if you would. When landing in a certain place and timezone, the TARDIS analyzes its' surroundings from a 1,000 mile radius and during the first fraction of a second, camouflages itself as the thing it thinks will blend in the best."
"And then it disguises itself as a police box from 1963?"
The Doctor blinked at Tracer, the fact that he was catching on so quickly was extraordinary, "Precisely. And I just had the weirdest sense of Deja Vu right now..."
A series of electric whooshing emitted from the TARDIS, indicating that it was landing.
"Now is the time we go," the Doctor said, a bit reluctant for once, "Allons-y, I suppose."
He trotted over to the TARDIS door, not even caring he just rhymed again. But he merely stood there, staring at the handle in what seemed to be determined concentration.
"Erm..." Tracer said awkwardly, "Are we going or not?"
"Yeah, we're going," the Doctor said, not taking his eyes off the handle, "Just as soon as I figure out how to open this damned thing."
Tracer gave the Doctor a funny look, and turned the door handle as if it were as easy as chewing gum.
"Thanks," the Doctor said, and stepped outside the TARDIS.
Great Brittleton didn't look at all different from Equestria; the clouds were the same brownish-red, the same moaning sound from the undead ponies, the same burning buildings. But there was one building that stood out from the rest: A large castle stood right in front of them, and swirling around it was a green mist; it sounded as though millions of ponies were crying out all at once.
"What in the name of Great Apollo is that?" Tracer gasped, staring blankly up at the castle.
"By your words, that's the royal palace of King Slumplort III," the Doctor answered in a casual tone, "And the green mist is all the souls of the ponies."
"By God," Tracer sighed, still stunned at the sight, "Is there any way to help them?"
"Of course," the Doctor answered, "Right in the source of it: The Castle."
"The- inside the- HOLD ON A MOMENT!" Tracer suddenly shouted, "I've always wanted a little adventure in my life, but dammit, Doctor! This is too much! I figured it would be easier than this! "
"What kind of adventure is easy?" the Doctor said, still in his casual tone.
Tracer made to retort back, but his words tangled up with his tongue.
"I- what- you- kind of- Who told you that?"
"I told me that," the Doctor stated happily, "Now let's ride!"
With that, he began a fast but cautious trot toward the castle. Tracer groaned loudly and followed in suit.
As they trotted up the path toward the castle, Tracer admitted to himself that this seemed a bit too easy, as if the zombies wanted them to get inside. This feeling made him a bit more reluctant to follow the Doctor, but if it meant finding out who he, Tracer, truly was, then by golly it's worth it.
They were now at the foot of the castle, and the screaming was now drilling itself into Tracer's ears. How much he wanted to block out the sound, even he wasn't sure, but as they walked through the entrance and shut the door behind them, all sound and vision was cut off. They were left in total darkness.
"Doctor, you there?" Tracer's voice echoed.
"Right next to you. Hold on..."
"GAH!!!"
"Whoops! Sorry, didn't mean to nudge you like that.... ah, there she is."
An electric buzzing filled the hall, and a sudden burst of green light caused temporary blindness for Tracer. When his eyes adjusted to the light again, he was greeted by an alarming display; pony skeletons were hanging from the walls, blinking eyes were staring at them from the ceiling, and at the top of a staircase in front of them stood the shadow of a tall pony.
"You were not summoned," a royal voice rang throughout the room, "Nopony may enter King Slumplort III's castle unless summoned!"
"You've summoned me in the worst way possible, Slumplort!" The Doctor yelled in an angry tone, "Through my anger!"
"You address your King as 'Your Majesty!'" Slumplort shouted, and the shadow waved a hoof. Immediately, the skeletons hanging from the walls sprang to life, jumped off the walls, and surrounded them. This did nothing whatsoever, as the Doctor merely hit each of them with a blast of his Sonic Screwdriver. Each fell to the ground in a heap of bones.
"You are not my King!" He shouted, "I demand Parley with the High Esteemed Ruler!"
"You are speaking to him!" Slumplort's voice called.
"Not ruler of Brittleton."
Slumplort let out a scream of rage and the shadow waved both hoofs. The eyes on the ceiling began to slowly descend, their pupils growing larger and larger.
"Don't look into them!" The Doctor shouted, covering his face with his hoof. It was Tracer's turn to act, but searching around the room he couldn't find anything that could help them, all that was in there was a dinner table and a book shelf. Then he remembered: Slumplort loved to eat chicken! And what does chicken always taste better with? He raced toward the table, grabbed a salt shaker, and hurtled it at the large cluster of eyes.
A large, ear-piercing wail emitted from the eyes, and they started crying and shriveling up. One by one they dropped off the ceiling, all landing around the Doctor, who opened his eyes again and laughed in triumph.
"What's the matter?" The Doctor shouted to the shadow, "Got something in your eye? No, all joking aside, you're seriously doing terrible."
Slumplort shouted in rage once more, and a voice unlike his rang throughout the hall. A cold voice, that practically froze the entire hall and made even the Doctor shudder.
"Please, Lord," it hissed, "Let me feed upon their souls!"
"Well, well, well," the Doctor said as if he knew this voice quite well, "If it isn't the famed Lord Necromancer."
"Lord Doctor," the voice hissed, "It's been too long. I've always anticipated this moment, when I finally pluck the very soul of Gallifrey's finest Timelord, to take it for my own!"
"Have you, now?" The Doctor said in a surprisingly amused voice, "I'm flattered!"
"You do not take me seriously. I have ways to change your mind."
The shadow flicked his hoof, and in it appeared a glowing green soul. In the center were a pair of eyes, each facing the opposite way.
"NO!"
The Doctor ran forward and up the staircase to where the shadow stood. They now stood face-to-face, but the Doctor was staring at the soul with grief on his face. He then fell to his knees in a defeated way.
"Ditzy..." he cried, "I'm so sorry..."
"Where's my body?" The soul of Ditzy Doo asked, "Where's my body?"
"Let me refresh your memory of what I can do with my powers," the shadow laughed, "I can open portals leading to the Abyss-" he waved his other hoof, and in the middle of the hall a large green and black hole opened, and Tracer nearly fell into it; he caught the ledge just in time- "I can summon souls from the Abyss-" a sudden burst of air sent Tracer soaring through the air as souls came flowing up through the portal, and he landed flat on his back at the top of the staircase, knocking the wind out of him-"and I can put souls into the Abyss."

As Tracer stood up again, the shadow turned to him and lowered its' hood, and the Doctor shouted again; glowing green eyes now stared deeply into Tracer's, and no matter how hard he tried to look away, he found it impossible. A sudden pulling feeling issued from his chest, and it steadily became more and more painful. Finally, when Tracer had started screaming in pain, and a greenish glow began to pop out of his chest, his body went limp, and his soul burst free of its' body. Tracer then fell to the ground, his body still as stone.

The Necromancer chuckled evilly to himself as he now had the souls of two of the Doctor's friends in his hoofs. The Doctor starred furiously at the back of his enemy's head, trying desperately to hold back the temptation to bash his head into the stone floor. No, he needed the Necromancer alive if there was any hope of retrieving his friends' souls back. He quickly transformed the fury into misery, and he fell to his knees as the Necromancer turned to face him again.
"Both gone," his voice hissed, "Both soulless. You've weakened, my Lord Doctor, I remember the times where you were so assertive."
"Why?" The Doctor asked, his voice trembling, "Why are you doing this? Plenty of souls are meant to be taken, but not those of the living! You're ending the lives of so many before they can ever truly live! They have dreams, we all do, and you're preventing them from achieving them! You need to limit yourself, Necromancer. If you continue abusing your powers in this fashion-"
"What will happen to me? You have no one to call. Back in your universe, maybe, but none in this one. No Rose, Martha, or Donna to help you, only these ridiculous ponies. The only thing they're good for is their delicious souls!"
A slapping sound echoed through the hall as the Necromancer smacked his lips.
"The only thing anyone is good for is life!" The Doctor cried desperately, "Leave the darkness behind you, Necromancer, there's nothing there for you but misery and doubt. Come back to the light!"
As the Doctor said this, the clouds covering the sky above them began to fade, and very little sunlight began to shine through the glass ceiling. One of these streaks hit the Necromancer on his shoulder, and shriek escaped his shadowed lips as a hole was burned through his cloak. A bare patch of his skin was now showing, a deep blue color. He pulled his shoulder back as he let out one more shout before glaring furiously at him.
The Doctor, on the contrary, was now looking from the light to his foe with utter astonishment on his face.
"Seriously?" He asked at last, "That was your weather code? 'Light'?"
The clouds began clearing faster, and the Necromancer backed away rapidly, sticking to the remaining shadows as they all started to vanish.
"Stop it!" He shrieked as he backed against the wall, "The sun will kill me if it has to!"
"And what does that mean?" The Doctor asked, hardly caring as his foe coward on the wall, "You sound as though the sun hates you."
"You foal, it does hate me!" The Necromancer hissed with anger and fear, "I'm dark, it's bright! Darkness never prevails in that sort of fight!"
"That was another rhyme!" The Doctor said happily before turning serious again, "I'm glad you finally learned that lesson, Necro. It must've taken you, what, a thousand years?"
"If I die, you'll never get your friends souls back!"
"Actually, that's not how it works. I would explain it, but time is of the essence. So I'll just rap this up with a phrase I've heard personally: LET THERE BE LIGHT!"
The clouds dispersed, shining in light that ponies made hadn't seen in ages. Several beams of light struck the Necromancer, who almost instantly caught fire. He screeched a terrible shriek, slapping at the flames engulfing around his body as his cape burnt away. He raced towards the portal in the ground, jump in, and was gone. All the spirits he had stolen flew back to their original owners. In a distant place, a mare and her brother rejoiced as her daughter regained the ability to talk.
The Doctor watched as several souls sailed through the roof of the castle, going off to find their bodies, knowing that Ditzy was one of them. Behind him, Tracer stepped up to watch in wonder at this peculiar sight.
"Now I've seen everything," he muttered.
"Would you like to see more?" The Doctor asked him.
Tracer looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Ditzy Doo is still out there. We need to find her, and since you're a detective, I think you'd be very useful."
"I'm not much of an inter-galactic space detective, if that's what you'd call me."
"You don't have to be. You just have to be good enough to help me find her. You do believe you're good enough, right?"
Tracer pondered these words carefully. Going through time and space, seeing what no other pony has seen before... well, except the Doctor, anyways.
"Yes," he finally answered, "I believe I can help."
"Fantastic," the Doctor smiled, "So, what comes first?"
"You're asking me?" Tracer exclaimed, surprised at the genius asking for help first, "Where did you last see her?"
"I was carrying her outside that little bunker when I first arrived her, remember?" The Doctor explained.
"Can you give me any details as to where you were exactly?" Tracer questioned, taking out a notebook and a pen.
"Well, not really, I suppose about thirty hundred or so steps south and- HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT!?" The Doctor suddenly demanded.
Tracer leaped back in shock and almost dropped his pen, which he had been using to write down information in his notebook. "What?" He asked.
"You were writing with hooves!" The Doctor spoke loudly, "HOOVES! How do you ponies do this?"
"You're a pony yourself, you know," Tracer reminded him.
"I'm... oh, that's right," the Doctor said as he calmed down, "I haven't told you that yet, have I?"
"What?"
"Let's go to the TARDIS. I'll tell you once we find Ditzy Doo."
Tracer, suspicious about the secret he knew the Doctor was hiding, followed him down out of the castle and into the front gates, where ponies were walking around again, talking merrily to each other and ignoring the big blue box in the front of the castle.

"Well, onwards and upwards we go," the Doctor said, opening the door to the TARDIS (not without Tracer's reluctant help) and entering the TARDIS. Many passers-by gaped in amazement as the blue box dematerialized and vanished out of nowhere, leaving a blank spot in the front of the castle.

After the Revolution between Equestria and Great Brittleton raged on until 1783, when the Brittlish surrendered at the battle of Porktown. King Slumptlort III never forgot what happened with the evil spirits, and what the ponies did to over throw his most powerful adversary. To his death, he swore that he would get revenge. But that did not come. At least, not for a while...