The Doctor's New Body

by TheJokerAndTheThief

Rating: everyone
Tags: Derpy Hooves, Crossover, Doctor Whooves, Applejack, Apple Bloom, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Adventure
Length: 6594

My own version of the doctor whooves story.

I love Doctor Who, and i love FiM. I know this has been done so much, but maybe I can give you all something you'll like.

A grief-stricken 10th Doctor deals with his own mortality, but before he can continue with his own canon storyline, a PLOT DEVICE transports him to Ponyvile, and his body adapts via glorious regeneration! Time for wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey!

Published 2012-11-27 23:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-11-28 11:49:15 UTC

Part 1: Not Donkey, Pony

The following is my version of the tale of Dr. Whooves. I have not read any other fan fiction pertaining to Dr. Whooves, so any similarity is purely coincidental. Let’s see where this goes.

The TARDIS was empty again.

The Doctor fumbled with the Galafreyan toy as he sat in his leather chair aboard the Time and Relative Dimensions in Space, or as he had come to call it, the TARDIS. All was quiet and still, as if friends and family dressed in black, mourning the passing of a loved one, were only a room away. The Doctor knew all too well, however, that only he remained to mourn the passing of his loved ones, and that there would never again be family to share the pain and emptiness with him. He treated today as his own funeral reception, his eyes vacant and his hearts swollen.

There once was a time, the Doctor remembered, when he was able to solve this puzzle under a single minute. He used to collect these, all of them consisting of different colors, shapes, and patterns. As a boy, he would challenge his friends to beat his time, and he would always lose. But he didn’t mind losing; he always simply loved to play the game with the people around him. He loved to challenge, to test, and ultimately, to be given a new height to reach. Losing was never the opposite of victory; it was simply his chance to try again. In fact, losing had no consequence.

The Doctor flung the small toy across the control room with a crack, splitting the silence like shotgun shells in the dark. It smashed against the wall of the TARDIS and crumpled under the force of the pained Time Lord. Losing’s consequences had come to claim him after all. His hands were shaking, and his breath was shallow. He slowly bent down to cradle his head in his hands, trying earnestly to find some form of composure. His body responded by forcing him to leap out of his chair and pace around the control room like a little boy desperately searching for his mother, but not quite knowing how or where to begin. His legs shook, but he kept trying to force himself to quell his anxiety. The Doctor eventually slowed down to a standstill, and found himself staring into the heart of the TARDIS itself; the circular control panel, and the golden glowing matrix that lived and breathed inside it. He found himself resting his hand atop the Atom Accelerator, as he had done so many times in his life.

The TARDIS was empty again.

Martha, Donna, Rose, they were all gone now. That was the nature of their existence, and he knew it painfully well. He recalled what he had once said to Rose, on a day that felt like centuries ago;

“You can spend the rest of your life with me, but I can’t spend the rest of my life with you.”

The Doctor felt a feeling come over him. It started from the aching hearts in his chest, bubbled up to his lungs, vented through his throat in soft moans, and eventually began pouring out of his eyes, the blood of a bleeding soul. The Doctor had not properly cried for such a long time now, and he knew he had it coming. He continued to recall his conversation with the beautiful blonde haired girl whom he had adored so much, almost unwillingly.

“I have to live on. Alone. That’s the curse of the Time Lords.”

His mind flashed back to another time, another day. But the same angers and fears.

“I don’t die, I just regenerate!”

His tears dropped down onto the floor of the TARDIS without a single sound.

“Sometimes, I think the Time Lord lives too long.”

And here stood the last of the Time Lords, the sole survivor of the forgotten race. He was roughly around 900 years old, and was currently in the middle of his 10th regeneration. He had fought gods and devils, monsters and beauties, geniuses and idiots, armies and delegations, myths and realities, fabrications and facts. He had seen fantastic cites and bottomless caves, swirling galaxies and imploding nebulas, he had saved the universe from every impending danger, threat, disease and dysfunction, and far, far more.

And as he peered up to the great column of the TARDIS, and watched as it moved up and down, propelling him into time and space like it always had, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was the end for him.

He will knock four times…

Suddenly, small warning beeps chirped from the TARDIS, freeing the Doctor from his self-absorption.
He shook his head once to free himself from his haze, moving around the control panel so that he could observe the readings that were flashing on the monitor. Trying to understand what was going on, he snapped on his glasses and leaned in close to decipher the letters and numbers that were being flashed across the screen in red. He read the information, shook his head in confusion, read it again, and frowned in disbelief. What he saw in front of him was a sequence of numbers that, according to his knowledge of the universe, should never exist. What they entailed was something so fantastic and unlikely, that the Doctor was convinced that his readings were the result of a malfunctioning part of the TARDIS.

Without warning, the red, minimalistic emergency lights went on to replace the brilliant illumination that the TARDIS was previously enjoying, and something happened that made the Doctor’s hearts stop in sheer terror; The Cloister Bell rang.
The Doctor had just enough time to yell “WHAT?!” at the top of his lungs before the entire TARDIS shook like a doll house getting chucked into a bedroom wall. The Doctor was flung across great control room and smashed into the inner doors of the TARDIS, almost sliding out into the hallway. The artificial gravity was acting up, resulting in the entire TARDIS seemingly tipping over like the Titanic. The resulting pain shot across his back in waves of agony, forcing his body to convulse. He groaned in confusion.

But he couldn’t hear the sound of his own exclamations over the rumbling and screaming the TARDIS was emanating, desperately trying to regain control of itself as it hurtled wildly across uncharted waters. The noise got louder and louder, and the column kept moving faster and faster in pace with it. Nothing could get over the terrible screeching and rumbling of the TARDIS’ engines being sent horribly into complete meltdown. The entire inside of the TARDIS was being shaken apart, and the Doctor could sense impending doom like never before. The Doctor could smell something burning, and looked up achingly to see his Control Panel shooting lighting out of itself randomly, scorching holes in the walls of the TARDIS and blazing trails in its panic. The Doctor could not recall at what point the lights had been blown out, but the Doctor wasn’t observing, he was too busy trying desperately to react.

With some deep concentration and blocking of the pain, he slowly managed to crawl his way towards the control panel, not able to obtain the balance to stand. When he finally made it close enough to pull himself up by wrapping his hands around one of the rails, he looked around frantically to observe the damage being done to his dearest friend. A lightning bolt shot out sheer millimeters from his face, and the Doctor leaped back on instinct, his eyes blinded by the brilliant flash of white. He barely had enough time to soak it in before the TARDIS’ gravity reversed itself, slamming his face into the railing and breaking his nose.

“Ahh!” He yelled, almost angrily, fighting desperately against the tears that were bubbling up to his eyes, very much unlike the tears he had experienced before. His grip on the rails remained as firm as could keep them, his knuckles becoming a ghostly white. He suddenly became aware of his inability to breathe- he fought down the urge to hyperventilate as much as he could, forcing himself to take as deep a breath as his lungs would allow him. He could not breathe through his nose, so he instead breathed through his mouth, panting furiously. The sweat dripping from his body made his hands slippery, and they began to tremble in terror. Despite all of this, he began pulling himself against the heat and shaking of the TARDIS’s heart, trying to get back to the controls so that he could steer, plan, navigate, do something-

Until the entire control panel exploded in one blindingly white blast, knocking him once again over the railing, scorching his front, and sending electric shocks to course through his body. He screamed aloud in agony, but he still couldn’t hear himself. Even through his shattered nose, the smell of burning increased tenfold, as several parts of his body began warming up. His clothes were singed and his right hand hurt even more than it did when he had gotten it chopped off on Christmas Day. The blast was matched only by the monstrous screaming and rumbling, which was still somehow getting louder and louder, and also increasing in pitch, as if the engines were being pushed to their utmost limits. This time, the Doctor could not muster the strength to pull himself up, no matter how hard he tried. It hurt so much to move, and with everything else going on, intense pain would have sent him into extreme sensory overload, and he would have been knocked out for sure. He did find himself peering upside down at the front doors of the TARDIS, where he lay, withering in agony.

The Doctor wondered if this was death now, ready to claim him and his one, infinite companion. Just when this dark thought flew across his mind, everything stopped.

The noise disappeared as suddenly as it came, and the lighting disappeared as well, immersing the inside of the TARDIS in pitch black darkness. The Doctor’s ears were ringing terribly, and his eyes were flashing colors. The Doctor could do nothing but lie there, sore and shivering. He felt that inside him, some of his ribs had been broken, and he was sure that the explosion of the TARDIS’ systems had exposed something awful.

Slowly, a thought crept across his mind. As soon as he recognized it, his entire body leapt in fear.

“No. no no no no…” The Doctor muttered, slowly rolling over so that he could sit on his knees. He glanced down at his hands, and to his despair, they were faintly glowing. His greatest fear had been realized. Light was beginning to breach the darkness inside the TARDIS, and it was coming from his damaged, regenerating body.

The Doctor moaned, partly in pain and partly in fear. “No, not yet-“he muttered, watching the glowing of his hands grow and grow, feeling it’s warmth slowly crawl up his arms and over his shoulders.

“I- I’m not ready, I’m not-“The brightness of the glow suddenly began to surge and pulse rhythmically, dancing across his limbs like golden steam. He could feel the glowing begin to submerge his chest and legs. He was running out of time.
“I… I’m not… I don’t...” The Doctor muttered feebly, unable to resist the massive change that was undertaking him, helpless as the glowing energy began rearranging, rewriting, and recreating every cell in his body, all for the sake of saving his life. His personality, likeness, species and gender were all about to depend upon chance, or in this case, sheer faith. Every regeneration was a gamble, and no Time Lord ever truly knew what was to come after the process was complete. He could become a far better man or woman- or he could lose everything that made him the person he was. The only thing that could be certain was that who he was, right then and there, was about to die. He would live on in some form and fashion, but the person that he had worked so hard to become would depart. The last to go was his face, and just before his body began to fully give way, the 10th Doctor spoke aloud for no one to hear.

“I don’t want to go,” He whispered in fear.

And then, the full force of the regeneration process began to take hold, and the golden glow suddenly became a bright, powerful, shimmering hue, shooting out from his limbs and head in jet streams, illuminating the entire control room like fireworks in the night. The 10th Doctor was gone, and in his place, a new shape began taking form, a new creature that would learn to call himself the Doctor. The process was complete, and far quicker than it had come, the beautiful golden hues faded away to dust. The TARDIS was re-submerged in darkness. The 11th Doctor had been born.

It took all of the orientation skills he had left for him to break through the doors of his TARDIS, allowing him to collapse onto the green meadow that lay underneath him. His brain was in the middle of a post-regenerative haze, so he could make little sense of what was going on around him. He could make out dark colors and peaceful sounds, but identifying them was far beyond his current abilities. He knew that it was night time, and that represented the extent of his knowledge. He scanned the world around him the best he could, trying to find something to interact with.

His eyes were caught by the strange shape of some sort of four legged creature, no doubt flabbergasted by the Doctor’s sudden appearance, as well as the subsequent arrival of the great blue box that was the TARDIS. It was yellowish, reddish, and a very small creature, with a large head and even larger eyes. The Time Lord could see a slowly swishing tail behind it, and at the front, what he supposed was some kind of combination of hair and a mane. In it was a bright red bow that caught the Doctor completely off guard. The strange creature smiled up at him, and The Doctor smiled back, completely confused. The Doctor wondered if this creature could understand him if he were to speak. He wasn’t quite sure what he would say, but before his brain had made an appropriate decision, his mouth was already open.
“Can I have an apple?” his 11th voice croaked.

The Doctor had just enough time to wonder about cravings before he passed out.

When he awoke, he found himself slouched against a wall, his head hurting and his newfound craving in full swing. He slowly began to look around, deciphering as much as he could, through his still-hazy post-regenerative mind.

It was still night time, of that there was no question. The stars were shining beautifully and brightly. To his left he could see a small table with cluttered things on it that were completely indistinguishable in the dark. On the wall that it was pressed up against, there was a large mirror and a lamp with a circular shade hanging from the ceiling. There was a chair next to the table, and on it sat a large, completely adorable teddy bear. To the right of the table was a door with light coming out from the other side. Along the wall he was propped up against to his left, was a great big dark object that he eventually concluded was the side of a dresser. In the center of the room, propped up against the wall opposite the one he was leaning against, was a great big canopy bed that would have been far too small for him if he had tried to lie down in it, and was far too low for him to sit in it. He could make out reds and greens on the bed, but it was very hard to decipher, even in the moonlight. Directly next to the bed on its left hand side was a small table with a miraculously swirly lamp and an alarm clock. Closer to him on his right was a great large window with leafy green curtains, and the small item that he had been propped up against was a toy box. All around the room were pictures of what the Doctor thought were horses, and for some strange reason, apples. Lastly, directly at his feet was a plate, with a bright red apple placed on it.

“A child’s bedroom...” He wondered aloud, trying to get used to his new voice. “I’m in a child’s bedroom.” The doctor decided to see if his new regeneration had a sense of humor.

“The looks I’ll get, waking up in a child’s bedroom…” He decided that it was fair enough. Might need some work, though.
His craving bubbling back up to his consciousness again, the new Doctor decided to twist himself around so that he could eat the apple that the nice little person had left him. Sitting cross legged, he reached out his hand to pick up the apple. For some reason, the apple did not stay within his grip. He tried again, and nothing happened. There seemed to be a problem with his fingers.

“Loss in motor control…” The Doctor muttered. “Not good. No no, not good. Regeneration must have gone all wonky.” The Doctor suddenly wondered if he actually had any fingers. His eyes flared open, and suddenly started stammering, “Mirror, get to the mirror.” He tried to stand up, but his legs for some reason were far too weak to support his weight. He fell straight back on his butt and remained there in bewilderment.

“Ok… Very not good.” He said aloud, like a scientist watching an experiment do the exact opposite of his hypothesis. He tried to stand up again, and the same problem occurred. Then, for some reason completely unbeknownst to him, his newfound instincts began kicking in. As he got up on his hands and feet, the position for some reason felt very natural. His hearts jumped as he made a hilariously horrifying conclusion.

“No.” He denied in amazement. He looked back down at his hands and feet- or, to his growing stupor, his four feet.
“No! It can’t be! No!” he began, going through severe mental stress. He darted over to the mirror, and lifted up one of his ex-hands to fumble on the wall for some form of light switch. The light above him snapped on, and he instantly closed his eyes in encompassing fear.

“No, no, no, no, I can’t look. Don’t want to look. It’s not real, I’m not a strange, four legged creature, I’m a beautiful, graceful, dashing, completely-normal-looking strange four-legged-creature.” He slowly began to build his composure. He kept talking to himself, trying to maintain some form of a grip over the situation.

“You’re the Doctor. Come on, you knew this day could have come.” He continued giving himself a pep talk. “I’m sure that whatever you are, you’re still as heroic as ever. Good old Doctor. Good old silly Doctor.” He began to ready his eyelids. “Come on! You’re brave, you’re a Time Lord, You’re a-“

With that, he flared open his eyes, trying to help himself end that sentence. There was about a second of absolute silence and stillness.

“- Donkey?!” He blurted in horrific shock and confusion. He looked himself over slowly and carefully, his mind slowly leaving the confides of his regenerative haze. The first thing he noticed was the beige fur that covered his entire body. He lifted up a hand to feel his chest- and then finally solved the mystery of his missing fingers.

“Hooves?” He asked, if he was a schoolteacher being told that his student was unable to complete an assignment for no given reason. He began giggling uncontrollably, as he held his newly discovered hoof out in front of him. “I’ve got hooves?” He placed his left hoof back on the ground, so that he could raise his right. It was also a hoof.

“Fantastic!” He declared happily, continuing to giggle in delight. “No. Wait. That’s the 9th Doctor.”
He thought very carefully about what he should say, and tried again.
“Brilliant!” He declared happily, continuing to giggle in delight. “No. Wait. That’s the 10th Doctor.”
This time, he thought very, very hard about what he wanted to say. What does the 11th Doctor say? What does the 11th Doctor do when he discovers hooves instead of hands?

A cheeky, young, and daring grin swept across his new face.

“Cool.” He said.

As he continued to look at his new face, and eventually concluded that he was not a donkey, but perhaps some strange, cartoonish horse. His ability to contort his face and give expressions was completely uncanny. He knew this, because he had been practicing faces in the mirror for a while. He had dark brown hair that looked like hair, but was in fact some kind of mane. His eyes were a darkish brown as well, with a little more green thrown in. He had long, stretchy legs and “arms”, and a sharp chin and nose. Although his common sense was telling him to panic, he couldn’t stop smiling and giggling as he examined himself. Suddenly a thought struck him.

“I’ve got a tail.” He stated flatly. He could barely believe the words he was hearing. “I’ve got a tail!” laughing hysterically, he twisted himself around, trying to find the correct angle that would allow him to view his backside. After 3 unsuccessful attempts, he managed to place his tail in front of the mirror, and examined it in overwhelming joy. Sure enough, there was a brown tail streaming from his butt, the same beautiful brown as the mane that was on top of his horse-head.
“Ahh! Look at you!” He told the creature in the mirror. “Leave you alone for around an hour, and you go and turn yourself into a horse! Oh, what are the humans going to think now-“

He suddenly stopped to notice a strange symbol that was plastered across his flank, on both sides of his body. After once again contorting himself to view it properly, he lifted his backside up to the light, and saw to his amazement, the symbol of an hour glass.

“Someone’s got a really weird sense of humor.” The Doctor decided in genuine confusion, shifting himself around for better looks. Suddenly, from what had retreated to the absolute back of his mind, his sudden apple craving came back to overtake him, and he ran back to the apple that had been left to him by his strange young friend.

Gripping the apple in his mouth, he picked it up and took a great big bite.

He spat it out instantly, his taste buds panicking in disgust. New mouth, new rules. The Doctor reminded himself. He then pulled a ‘not bad’ face and thought to himself, new species, new rules. The Doctor knew that this whole horse thing was going to take a very, very long time to get used to.

And suddenly, he was dropped back in reality. The Doctor suddenly became far more serious, as his more basic instincts began to kick in. Was he in danger? As far as he knew, he wasn’t. He instantly began to wonder about this little person whose room he was staying in. And how far away was the TARDIS? What had happened to the TARDIS’ engines, a lifetime ago? Where in the universe and fabric of space and time was he?

The Doctor walked brusquely to the door, opening it by pushing down on the door handle. Thank goodness they haven’t got those circular handles. I would have died in that room before I found my way out, he thought to himself. As he walked out into what appeared to be a small hallway, he could see that to his right was a staircase leading downwards. The staircase was on his side of the wall, so he couldn’t see down it. Opposite the staircase was another room. On the wall separating the two was a plain window with no curtains. As he turned to his left in caution, he saw 3 more rooms and a window at the end of that hallway as well. He decided that the staircase would be his best guess. As he began to walk down the short flight of stairs, he saw, at the bottom, a small, yellow and red figure not looking in his direction waiting for him patiently. The staircase was hooded by solid wooden archway, so he could see nothing of the room down below. The Doctor recognized the creature as the one he had met just before he passed out earlier. His posture tilted to one side, to exert an appearance of timid curiosity. “Hello?” he called softly.

The little creature whirled her head around in surprise, and looked up to face the newfound Doctor. “Oh!” a small girl’s voice squeaked, and she instantly jumped up to all fours to meet the new visitor that had just awoken. “Hi!” She called eagerly.

“Hi!” the Doctor repeated her. The Doctor couldn’t help it. It was just all too weird.

“Hello!” The little creature repeated him, enjoying the little game they seemed to be playing.

After looking at her for a moment, the Doctor couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of his situation once again. “You look like me.” He said, extending a hoof to point at her, the grin still plastered to his face.

“O-oh?” The small horse stammered in confusion. She looked down at herself, and back up to face the Doctor, frowning. “Ah Do?”

“Yes!” the Doctor confirmed happily. “Well, no-“ he began to amend, realizing the flaws in his statement. “Not really like me. Although, I didn’t used to look like this, like you do, like I do now.” He tried again, still grinning. He allowed himself to look down at his body again, and laughed a little more.

The yellow horse at the bottom of the staircase was still overwhelmingly confused. She cocked her head to one side. “What did you used to look like, then?” The Doctor finally was able to hear the distinct southern-American accent in her speech.

“Well,” The Doctor continued, looking back up to face her, “I used to look like a human!” He said happily.

The yellow horse at the bottom of the staircase shook her head in even more confusion. “What’s a ‘hooman?’” She attempted, her eyes squinting a little as she tried to understand.

“Ah! Right!” the Doctor reacted, nothing changing in his level of energy. “Never mind that then. Hello!” He repeated, returning to the beginning of the conversation.

“Hi!” she exclaimed, happy to return the game she was sure she was winning at.

The Doctor leaped down the stairs in a single bound, and stopped suddenly to face the little girl when he landed. He looked right in her eyes and said, “I’m the Doctor.”

“My name’s Apple Bloom!” Apple Bloom replied eagerly, very much interested in this Doctor person.

“Apple Bloom?” The Doctor repeated with a smile. “Wonderful name. I’ve never heard of it before.” Apple Bloom blushed a little.

“Tell me, Apple Bloom,” the Doctor began, landing his hind legs down so that he could be more level with her. “Where are we?” He asked, the smile never quite leaving his face.

“We’re in my home, in Sweet Apple Acers! Ah found you just a little ways out from the farm, right next to the beginning of the Everfree forest. You went right out when ah saw ya, so ah brought ya into the house and my big brother Macintosh brought you into my room.” Apple Bloom explained, very proud of what she achieved.

“Right.” The Doctor received. “Farm. Lots of apples.” He then frowned curiously. “Wait. Why did you bring me all the way up the stairs and into your room?” he asked, slowing his speech as he finished the sentence.

Apple Bloom blushed a little again. “You looked like you weren’t going to be able to handle a lot of ponies at once, so a nice, quiet bedroom seemed like a good idea.” The little filly explained.

“Ah HA!” The Doctor exclaimed, making her jump in surprise. “So we’re ponies? Ah, wonderful! Love a pony! I used to ride ponies as a kid. Well, they weren’t really ponies, more like great big cats, but still, ponies are cool!” He ranted with glee. “Although,” He interjected himself, suddenly reversing his level of energy and enthusiasm, “Ponies aren’t very intimidating, and I kind of rely on that one a lot.” The Doctor made a face. “Saving the universe is going to become a nightmare.”

“Wha-?” Apple Bloom responded, not able to follow a single word the Doctor said.

“Never mind that either.” The Doctor advised, instantly snapping back the great big smile.

Apple Bloom was not so convinced. “Did… Did you hit your head, mister?”

“Hm...” the Doctor wondered, completely missing the reason Apple Bloom had asked that. “Must have at some point.” He knocked his own head to test his theory. “Ow,” he winced lightly. “Thanks for asking though. Always a good question to ask.” He frowned. “I should ask that one more often.” He looked back to Apple Bloom’s eyes. “It would make stuff SO much simpler.” He exaggerated.

Apple Bloom just looked up at him in profound confusion.

The Doctor suddenly became aware of her feelings, and instantly matured himself.

“Do I scare you?” The Doctor asked sweetly and respectfully.

“No,” Apple Bloom answered, smiling. “You’re just really weird.” She giggled.

The Doctor smiled back. “Do you like weird?”

Apple Bloom blushed again for the third time. “Well, ah guess I’m pretty weird, so yah.” She smiled happily. “Weird runs in the family!”

“Speaking of,” The Doctor reminded himself, craning his head to observe the room in which he was sitting in, “Where is this great big family of apple-ponies?”

As he looked around, he could see a large living room, which was mostly empty, save for the dark brown and red rugs that covered the wooden floors. The Doctor thought about how farmers, in any form or fashion, never seem to be given much money to show for it. As he looked around he could see some sitting furniture and tables, a couple of drawings and photographs, and a fireplace in the far right corner. He could see a small bookshelf that was crammed with books next to the fireplace, and situated quite naturally in-between them was an incredibly old, warn, and most adored velvet chair. To his left he could see another door leading into what he assumed would be some sort of kitchen, and larger, even less pristine door that he assumed lead into the barn. His eyes found their way back to the little creature that he was learning to call Apple Bloom.

“Big Macintosh went out to go find a Doctor, and my sister went out to get you some-“Apple Bloom was cut short by the sudden crashing of the front door being flung open, and a new, Golden colored pony with a cowboy hat came bounding in, carrying in its mouth a great large bucket of “Water,” Apple Bloom finished.

The Golden colored pony dropped the large bucket of water with a thunk, heaving and panting furiously. She was completely exhausted.

“Got you…. Some water…” The golden Pony forced out. “Are…You...Alright…?” She breathed, struggling to absorb as much air as she could.

“A lot better than you,” The Doctor replied, his head cocked to the side. “Here, drink some water,” he offered compassionately, pushing the bucket of water back in her direction. She downed it without question. The Doctor found it all quietly amusing.

The door busted open a second time, and in came bounding a new, very large crimson red pony, with another pony with a white lab coat and long brown hair close behind. They both bounded through the doorway and stumbled out into the hall, panting and sweating fiercely.

“Macintosh, you got Doctor Horse!” Apple Bloom exclaimed.

“Yup,” The red pony answered, and plopped down onto the floor.

Doctor Horse wasted no time, and ran straight up to the Doctor and began examining him. He flashed an incredibly bright light into his left eye.

“Ow,” The Doctor retorted, contorting his face into a pained grimace. The light was then shined into his right eye.
“His pupils are dilating normally, no signs of concussion,” Doctor Horse observed, throwing the flashlight back into a black bag that the Doctor had not previously seen. “How do you feel?” He asked, plopping a thermometer into the Doctor’s mouth.

“Pefectly nomal, tank you.” The Doctor replied through the thermometer. He looked down at it, raised an eyebrow, and looked back up at Doctor Horse.

The other Doctor pulled out the thermometer brusquely and read the temperature. “You seem to be perfectly fine,” He observed, and breathed a sigh of relief. Behind him, the Doctor noticed Apple Bloom doing the same. “Tell me, what’s your name? What happened? What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Too many questions!” The Doctor deflected, taking his role in center stage as the smartest person- or pony- in the room. He took a step back and whirled around dramatically to make sure all eyes were on him, the now typical grin once again upon his face. To his left, the golden pony had stopped drinking and was looking up at him in confused curiosity. The crimson red pony was doing the same.

“Don’t you worry Doctor,” The Doctor explained to the medical pony. “It’s all perfectly normal for me, and trust me, I’m a Doctor. Now-“he continued, before Doctor Horse could muster a response, “I’ve got plenty of questions of my own, and no offense, but none of you will be able to answer them properly. Firstly,” he looked back down to Apple Bloom, “I need you to take me back where you found me. Can you take me back to the big blue box?” Apple Bloom nodded enthusiastically, but then thought about it and looked at him apprehensively.

“It’s so late,” She reminded the Doctor, as she slowly became aware of how tired she really was. “Can’t it wait until mornin’?”

“Afraid it can’t.” The Doctor replied magnetically. “I need to get back to it as soon as possible, or very bad things could happen. I'm not sure exactly what happened or how i got here, and i don't like not knowing.” His entire body dropped to a side of his personality that was far more serious. “A lot of people, or ponies rather, everywhere could be in serious danger, which is why I need you, all of you-“ He looked up briefly to make eye contact with every other creature in the room, who was looking up at him intently, “-to trust me.” He returned to Apple Bloom as he finished his sentence.

“Who are you?” Doctor Horse managed to blurt out, through his hazed bewilderment.

“I told you,” the Doctor responded playfully. “I’m the Doctor.”

“No, I mean…” Doctor Horse tried again, slightly irritated at the Doctor’s veiled nature, “Who are you?” He said slowly.

The nine hundred and six Time lord walked up very close to Doctor Horse, and spoke softly so only he could hear him.
“I’m very old, Doctor,” He spoke into his ear. “Look into my eyes,” He invited. Doctor Horse tilted his head back, frowning and gazing skeptically into the Doctor’s eyes.

The Doctor showed him the eyes of one of the oldest beings in the universe. And for the first time, Doctor Horse felt horribly, horribly out of depth.

“Do you understand now?” The Doctor asked him patiently.

Doctor Horse felt his head nod; although he was quite sure he didn’t understand what he had just seen at all. He only knew that he wasn’t getting paid enough to understand the creature standing in front of him. “I uh, I guess I’ll be heading back home now...” Doctor Horse stuttered, not quite sure of what to do with himself.

“Thank you for your trouble, Doctor!” Apple Bloom called from behind the Doctor. Doctor Horse let himself gaze into the eyes of the Time Lord once again.

“No trouble at all,” He replied just above a whisper.

“Good.” The Doctor smiled, and moved back to address the other ponies in the room. He watched as the other doctor said goodbye to everyone else, and walked out of the door, shaking his head and muttering something about newcomers and magic.

“As I was saying,” He continued, as if nothing had happened, “I need you all to lead me back.” He looked up to face them all. “Please?” he tacked on the end slyly.

“Ah can take ya,” The golden pony with the cowboy hat answered him, no longer panting nor thirsty. “Apple Bloom, stay here and try to get some sleep.”

“But-“Apple Bloom began, not at all pleased with the sudden turn of events.

“Big Mac, don’t you let our sister wander off, “She instructed powerfully.

“Yup,” He answered obediently, and turned to look at Apple Bloom, who looked down into the floor disappointedly.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, and then I’ll try to get some sleep myself.” Something occurred to the golden pony. She cocked her head to the side and asked in concern, “do you have a place to stay tonight, uhh… Doctor?”

“If we find my box, I’ll be out of your hair in no ti-“ The Doctor cut his happy announcement short, when he suddenly noticed the expression on Apple Bloom’s face. The Doctor had seen that expression so many, many times.

“Don’t worry Apple Bloom,” The Doctor reassured her. “I’ll see you again.” She looked up at him sadly. “Goodbye now.” He smiled diligently. She smiled back up at him, albeit somehow unhappily. The Doctor could see out of the corner of his eye that the golden pony was beginning to step outside the door, and with a sudden twirl, he followed her briskly.

He stepped outside of the living room, and into the dark, moonlit abyss that was all around him. He could see out across the horizon that there were large clusters of trees, and somewhere to his left was a little spot of light, which he assumed was the result of a sort of town nearby. The stars were beautiful and bright where he stood, as he felt the light breeze blow through him, and through the grassy land that was all around him.

There was a cobblestone path at his feet, that he suspected lead into the town. The Golden pony walked off of the path, pointed upwards to a hill that the Doctor could just make out in the dark, and said, “Your blue box should probably be just over yonder,” she announced helpfully. “Ready to go?” She asked politely.

“Yes,” The Doctor responded eagerly. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name..?”

“I’m Applejack!” Applejack declared happily, thrusting a hoof outwards. The Doctor, very much confused, mirrored her, and then found his front leg being thrown up and down vigorously. “Mighty happy to meet ya!” she beamed. The Doctor’s silly smile crept back onto his face.