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Doctor Who: Stranger In The House

Christie Inman-Hall

"Donna!" the doors of the TARDIS flew open, and in ran The Doctor, a large explosion went off outside, Donna quickly followed suit, the TARDIS console bleeped "NO, no, no, no, no! They're following us, but what if…" The Doctor slammed a lever down and the console erupted in a shower of sparks and smoke, sending The Doctor falling onto his back, and all he knew was darkness…

*****

"Good morning, Mr Smith." Came a cool, calm voice…

The Doctor opened his eyes, only to be met by a startlingly white light pouring into the TARDIS , no, this wasn't the TARDIS, and he wasn't wearing his suit anymore, his blue pinstripes had been replaced with a slightly greying shade of white surgical scrubs, but he still had his mucky white plimsolls, The Doctor sat up with a start "not had any episodes lately have we, Mr Smith? No more dreams of the universe, time and space, regeneration?" The Doctor heard the voice chuckle slightly, he turned, his head fuzzy, to see a man wearing a white lab coat, with a bald head and small half moon spectacles.

The Doctor was incredibly confused "I do hope you've woken fresh and ready for your daily TARDIS…" "The TARDIS! I was in the TARDIS!" The Doctor stood up and paced around the room, he then stood on the bed and inspected a crack in the wall, " gotta get back soon, emergency protocol 2.5 will instigate if I've been in one place for too long…" "no, Mr Smith" continued the man "not 'your ship' but our daily exam, to determine your mental stability… remember?" the mans tone was soothing "What?! No! TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space" The Doctor explained "oh dear Mr Smith, this would seem to be a rather…sizeable, set back, remember the acronym 'TARDIS' stands for 'The Aural Reality Dilation Indexing System' The Doctor hopped off the bed and sniffed "…right, well, um, sorry, there must be some mistake, my name's The Doct" the small man cut him off "no Mr Smith, we thought we'd buried all notions of this 'Doctor' long ago with your therapy sessions, don't you remember?" he stood directly in front of the man in the lab coat, jutted out his jaw and said "listen, if you don't take me to my ship and my friend now you are going to be in a lot of trouble because…" "…because you're The Doctor, you're a timelord etcetera, etcetera," the Doctor's eyes widened "you've…met me before then?" the man shook his head, and jotted something down on his clipboard "Nurse!" a short silence followed and in stepped a red-headed woman, dressed in a white nurses uniform, of about 40 years of age, "Donna!" the Doctor exclaimed, a huge grin appearing on his face "yes, Doctor?" she said "we need to get out here! What are you dressed like that for?" "Mr Smith, she was talking to me, I am the only Doctor in this room." He turned to the Nurse, "give him the injection please" and once again, for The Doctor, all was black…

*****

When he came to, he was sat in a soft chair, in a moderately lit room, the man in the lab coat was sat opposite him "ah, once again Mr Smith, I'll bid you a good morning, and hope it is the last time I do so today…" the man bent down to the drawers in his desk and pulled out a file marked "Smith, J." he read from it "'Patient John Smith, birth date unknown, possible schizophrenic with delusions of grandeur, seems to feed his own psychoses.' Ringing any bells, Mr Smith?" The Doctor looked insulted, shook his head, tried to speak but found his tongue felt fat in his mouth "'admitted to the hospital on the 12th of February 1914, after being found by the police walking along the white cliffs of Dover talking about 'Zygons'' anything yet, Mr Smith? No? then I'll continue, 'he seems to pick elements from the world around him and incorporate them into his delusions, this is potentially down to him needing to anchor his imaginary persona, 'The Doctor' to that of his real raison d'être to make it seem ever more tangible. He seems to be making progress in accepting that 'The Doctor' is a fabrication and not his real personality. As yet, I have found no reason for his illness, though I will continue the search, Mr Smith seems to be growing ever more fascinating by the day.' You see, Mr Smith, this file contains everything we know about you, and that equates to two sides of paper, and a photograph."

The Doctor looked to the desk in front of him, where the man was perching, he saw a name plaque that read "Dr. Schuster", he assumed this was the man's name, he then looked to the bookcase to his left and noticed a book, a thick, black bound book with gold writing and a logo at the bottom of the spine consisting of a series of interconnecting circles of all sizes "ah, I knew this set back would make this book stand out to you again," said the man, he went and collected the book from the shelf and read from the cover "The Lord of Time, by Dr. Harry Sullivan," The Doctor looked up at the man suddenly, "we believe this is where you got the name for 'The Doctor's people' 'time lord', well you see Mr Smith," the man said opening the book "this is nothing but fiction" he started tearing pages out and throwing them to the floor "this is the work of a very clever man, who liked to tell stories, nothing more, nothing less."

The Doctor's tongue started to soften and he felt his usual verbal dexterity begin to return, "Listen to me! I am NOT J Smith, my name is The Doctor!" Dr. Schuster had had enough, "MR SMITH THE DOCTOR NEVER EXISTED! HE IS SIMPLY A FABRICATION AND THE SOONER YOU ACCEPT THAT THE SOONER WE CAN ALL MOVE ON WITH OUR LIVES!" he moved to his desk, pressed a button on his desk and said "guards, I'm done with my patient, return him to his room"

*****

"...Sarah-Jane," The Doctor was laying on his bed, looking at an old black and white photograph, tracing the words with his lips "her name is Sarah-Jane Smith" he looked at the photograph, and there she was, a smile across her young face, stood with a man. Not just a man, The Doctor, "This is me. This is what I used to look like. This is me."