A/N This is my first fanfic, so reviews are much appreciated. I am sorry for the Nickelback reference. I'm so, so, sorry. But I could not resist.
The Doctor's eyes snapped open. He tried to sit up, but leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles prevented any useful movement. He wriggled a bit, the surface underneath him was soft and yielding, and the Doctor quickly deduced it was a bed. Why was he chained to a bed? He scanned his surroundings. Across from his bed sat a desk made of cheap laminate wood, bolted to the wall. To his left were windows, and a shelving unit beneath them. Closer inspection of the windows revealed that they were reinforced with metal netting, and were bolted shut. This was too nice for a prison, clearly, so where was he? Psych ward, possibly. To his right was another wall, with a red button near his bed, just out of his reach. Oooh, now they were just taunting him. The paper clothing he was wearing and incoherent shouts down the hall confirmed his suspicions: he was in a mental hospital. He could not remember how he had ended up here. Last thing he remembered, he was in the TARDIS with his Ponds. The TARDIS! His Ponds! Where were they? He took a breath to steady himself. He reached out with his mind; if the TARDIS was nearby he could link telepathically with her and gather more information. It was futile, however, wherever she was, it wasn't in this solar system. He hoped she was simply in the Vortex, preferably with the Ponds inside, safe. Why couldn't he remember how he ended up here?
A woman, presumably a nurse, entered his room, interrupting his thoughts. "Mr. Smith?" Apparently he was playing human. That meant one of two things: Either he was on Earth, relatively early in its timeline, or, wherever he was, revealing the truth was dangerous. Based on the nurse's outfit (flare jeans and a Nickelback T-shirt), and the Motorola Razr clipped to her belt loop, he guessed the former: probably sometime in the middle of the 2000s AD. What had happened to his memories? Clearly someone- or something- didn't want him remembering.
"Yes, that's me!', he said, finally, attempting to sound cheery so maybe he'd be let out of these stupid restraints. "And you are?"
"I'm Mallory Lupin, your nurse. I have some meds here you need to take."
"Meds? What meds?"
"Let me have a look at your chart…Perphenazine, Cogentin, and Ritalin, looks like."
"I don't want them'
"You don't have to take them, but I can't let you out of those restraints until you do."
Well, he wasn't about to lie here all day, when he needed to find his Ponds. The effects of the pills would not be pleasant, but he could work though them."Alright, I guess I will take them, then"
"Now we're talking", Mallory said, smiling as she unlocked each of his hands so he could sit. The doctor assumed she would not free him completely until he took the pills. Mallory handed him a paper cup containing the pills, and a small water bottle. Reluctantly, he placed the pills on his tongue, took a swig of water, and swallowed the pills. After checking under his tongue to ensure he had actually swallowed the pills, Mallory undid the cuffs on his ankles.
"Wait here a minute and I will go get your clothes from the nurses' station", Mallory instructed. She left the room and returned with a paper bag containing his trousers, shirt, and tweed jacket. His suspenders, bow tie, and shoes were predictably, absent. Suicide risk for the two former, elopement risk for the latter, the Doctor thought grimly.
"There is a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a comb in the bathroom", Mallory said, pointing to a closed door near the door that led to the hall. "Get dressed and cleaned up, then please head to the common room at the end of the hall." Mallory left the room. The Doctor happily shed the paper clothing and relished the familiarity of his own clothing. He brushed his teeth and quickly combed through his floppy, brown mess of hair. He left his room and found his way to the "common room". People sat at tables or lounged on couches. A few were conversing, but most either stared blankly at the cracked television or simply slept, due to heavy medication, no doubt. At a table, sitting by herself, however was a familiar redhead. Her eyes met his. Her eyes widened in recognition…then fear? But why would Amy be afraid of him? Why was she here? More important, how long had she been here? What had they done to make her fear him? Had he come here intentionally, to rescue Amy? No, that didn't make sense; they wouldn't have cuffed him to the bed if he didn't put up a fight. Why was he here? Why was Amy here? What was tampering with his memory? The Doctor wanted answers, and he would do anything it took to get them.