Author's Notes: In this story, I will be incorporating elements from as many franchises as possible. I should list them for the obligatory disclaimer but I have no solid plan of how many there are going to be. To be brief, I own no franchises.
Chapter 1: Crash
"So where are you thinking of heading now?" Said Clara.
The Doctor opened his mouth as if to answer, but a sudden thought made him close it again. "Ah." He said, pointing towards the TARDIS column with a grin "You don't get me like that!"
"Sorry what?" Said Clara.
"I've decided to stop announcing where I want to go before each trip, 'cos the TARDIS always uses that as a cue to do the exact opposite. So, whenever I try to visit the planet of light, it takes me to the planet of darkness. And if I say "Let's go somewhere to relax for a while...""
The TARDIS abruptly began shaking violently, flinging both occupants to the floor. Two thirds of the warning lights on the console flashed violently at them.
"That sort of thing happens!" The Doctor shouted. He hauled himself up the side of the main console but the panel he needed was on the opposite side. If he let go, he'd be shaken to the floor again so he gripped the edge with all his strength and slowly inched his way round. After what felt like an eternity, he got to the point where he could reach the stabilisation controls, only to discover that Clara had beaten him to it. Within seconds, she somehow keyed in a very complicated, seven dimensional stabilisation algorithm and the shaking subsided, though most of the warning lights continued to flash.
"Where did you learn to do that?" Said the Doctor.
"At the academy, I think." Clara replied, looking equally startled by what she'd just done.
"How much do you remember? All those lives you've lived."
"They keep coming and going, the memories. I get flashbacks quite a lot, like just then."
"That's understandable, they all add up to about 50 million years. Your memory's got a lot to process." He paused. "Are you alright, by the way? It might be a bit traumatic. All those things you've seen"
Clara wasn't sure how to answer that. Just what conclusion could she draw when she'd experienced life kind at its best and its worst? She'd been a sniper in Stalingrad and she'd been Maid Marion. She'd flown with one of the first interstellar star ships and she'd been turned into a Dalek. It was going to be a long time before her mind would be clear enough to talk about it.
Hurriedly she changed the subject. "You'll need to check in the manual to see what's wrong. Also, re-calibrate the scanner to look at where we are." Her instincts led her to lift the correct panel, under which the scanner's circuits were located.
"I know where we are." Said The Doctor. "The TARDIS always shakes in a particular way when we hit a gap in time and space. And we can't be in a parallel universe since we never got a falling sensation, which means she's become embedded in a pocket dimension somewhere. One with solid ground, judging by that landing light. She's predictable like that. Lucky you recommended her to me."
"I was trying to get rid of it." Said Clara. The TARDIS responded by running a small charge through the circuit Clara was trying to work on.
"And you wonder why it doesn't like you. Anyway, no adverse effects on the TARDIS, from the environment. Once we go outside and determine the nature of this dimension, we can leave." He had a quick look at the environment readouts. "That's strange, everything on this seems to say Variable. Atmosphere: Variable. Gravity: Variable. Technology levels: Variable. Oh well. We'll have to take a chance on this then.
He marched over to the door and stepped out, to be met by the sound of seagulls and the smell of sea air. Beside him, a mass of packing crates had been stacked neatly, in preparation for loading on to a nearby freight train. Looking around, he could see a huge open yard, criss-crossed by rail tracks. The yard was bordered on one side by a series of warehouses, of various shapes and sizes depending on function. On the other by a harbour of some kind, where a fleet of ships was moored.
"A pocket dimension with a shipyard?" Said Clara, following him out.
"All pocket dimensions have different natures. This one's inhabited." Said The Doctor. He began wandering along the line to where a large blue steam engine was coupled to the freight trucks.
"These ships." Said Clara, looking out over the docks, "They're all from different time periods."
"Well observed." Said The Doctor. "That may mean that time has been compressed in this dimension. Every little thing we observe may offer some clue. The variable environment readings indicate that there may be no uniform laws of physics here ,though life appears to have been running here for a while, so the world is perfectly habitable. The fact that you haven't suffered any flashbacks yet probably means that you never lived here..."
"And the fact that that train's looking at us indicates what?"
The Doctor looked up. The entire front end of the train was indeed composed of a massive face.
"Maybe someone's built a replica of the characters from Thomas The Tank Engine?" The Doctor offered.
Seconds later, the two of them were forced to leap back in alarm as the train began speaking "I should not be pulling trucks. I'm allergic to heavy loads." It growled, in a voice that reminded Clara of Jeremy Clarkson.
"You're not allergic Gordon!" Shouted his driver. "You're just lazy! There's a war on, you know, and we need a fast engine for moving these supplies. I suppose we could find another..."
"You won't find another. I'm the biggest, fastest engine... in the world!"
"Well, make this supply run and you can prove it." The driver noticed the two people watching. "Clear off you two! No nonessential personnel around the trains."
The Doctor and Clara hurried away. "OK... That was weird. Has someone built clever animatronics or something?" She said.
"I don't know Clara. I think we may find answers in this warehouse."
The warehouse interior was full of stacks and stacks of crates, stretching halfway to the ceiling. Strolling down a row, The Doctor located one of the smaller crates and undid the screws with the sonic and handed the device to his companion.
"What are you looking for exactly?" She said.
"What they're moving. If it was for a theatrical display, the crates would be empty. As it is..." He began pulling a series of weapons from the box. "I would very much like to know why Thomas the Tank lookalikes are being used to move war supplies from various different time periods. Ah, that's interesting." He pulled out a cylindrical device and switched it on. A small beam of green light extended from the end and cut a hole in the crate. "It's a light sabre. But a weapon like this isn't physically possible, not without an unfeasibly large power source. Unless of course... Clara. I know where we are now!"
"Drop your weapons, you're surrounded by armed bastards!" Shouted a voice.
The Doctor hurriedly threw the light sabre down and the two of them turned to face their captor.
Clara's first thought was that they'd been confronted by a collection of people on their way to a fancy dress party but the serious expressions and the all-too-real weapons eliminated this possibility. Before them stood 5 guards, one dressed as a redshirt, one as an elf, one as a Victorian policeman and one as a St Trinian's girl. Their leader, the two of them recognised.
"Gene Hunt!" Declared The Doctor. "You are a fictional character, you do not exist!"
Instead of vanishing in a puff of smoke, as had happened last time the Doctor had met fictional characters, Gene Hunt kneed him in the balls.
"I do here." He growled. "Now are you going to explain to me what you're doing looking through our military stores? Or am I going to have to break out the agonisers?"
"I think this should answer your questions." Said The Doctor, flashing the psychic paper at him.
Hunt responded by shoving him against the nearest crate. "Here's a tip: If you want to forge ID's you need to write stuff on them!"
While he'd been conducting his precise interrogation technique, Clara had been hurriedly reading the labels on the crates behind them. Spotting one labelled Peruvian instant darkness powder, she switched on the sonic. As she'd hoped, every screw on the crate came loose and powder spilled over the floor, plunging everyone except her and The Doctor into darkness. By the time the elf was able to recite an incantation to dispel the darkness, their captives had disappeared into a gap between two crates.
"Doctor." Clara whispered as they wormed their way down a narrow alleyway where two rows of boxes just failed to meet. "Why are we being chased by fictional characters?"
"Because we've found ourselves in the land of fiction. All the imagination of the human race combined together to create a physical place. I've been here a few times before."
By now, they had reached a point at which they could see a way out not far off. But with guards running around looking for them and a massive open ground outside, it would be impossible to get away without being shot at.
"But haven't I helped you out on every world you've been to? So why don't I remember this place?" Whispered Clara.
"Maybe you helped me out without actually being here. Perhaps by writing for the Hourly Telepres?"
Clara winced as another flashback crossed her mind. The Doctor took that as a yes.
Just then a whistle sounded outside as Gordon began puffing forward. Spotting track not far from the entrance, The Doctor grabbed Clara's hand and made a run for it.
"Stop there!" Shouted the redshirt. He fired some shots, which missed by inches, as his target ran out of the door. The rest of the guards ran for the door themselves but found The Doctor and Clara running across the path of the train.
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Roared Gordon as Clara flung herself at the far side. By a matter of an inch, she and The Doctor were able to dodge the engine, which sped past, cutting them off from the guards perusing them. "POWERRRRRRRRRRRRR!" It roared, steadily accelerating away.
"Right." Said The Doctor. "TARDIS this way, let's get moving."
The two of them rushed down the track, determined to move as far as possible before their cover sped away. They rounded the back end of the train and sped towards the loading platform they'd parked the TARDIS on. When they got there, however, they found the platform empty. Fortunately, a man was stood nearby, ticking things off on a clipboard.
"Excuse me," said The Doctor, "there was a blue box here." He gestured with his hands. "About so big. Sexy. Where is it?"
"On its way to Hogwarts, along with the other packing crates." The man replied, gesturing at the rapidly retreating form of the train.
"But that wasn't a packing crate!" Cried The Doctor. "That was a brilliant and awesome time machine and now..." He paused, suddenly becoming more sombre. "And now we can't get away."
"There they are!" Roared a guard in the distance.