It had been three months since Amy left.
The Doctor was leaning over his console, waiting for his dear TARDIS to tell him where to go for his next adventure.
"Got anything for me, dear?" he asked, hand hovering over the zigzag plotter, waiting for a response from the machine. Nothing.
"Fine, I'll decide and you'll change your mind like you usually do. What about the Antennae Galaxies? Let's see how they're doing, eh?" he yelled out to himself. "No complaints from anyone? Good! And off we go!" and he pulled the leaver as hard as he could, and in moments the TARDIS landed at its destination, and with a leap and a bound he was out of the door without looking back.
Oh, how he regretted that.
The landscape around him was war torn, he wasn't on a planet from the Antennae Galaxies, he was on one from the Milky Way. "Earth, of course, where else would I end up?" he said to himself, not fully comprehending the fact that the area around him and his blue box looked like a war zone from the 35th century, minus the fighting.
He quickly looked down at his wrist, "2015? What? It can't be..." he spun around and looked behind the TARDIS. This wasn't right, not right at all. Why would it look like this now? The human race should just be getting excited for the prospect of the first man on Mars, not demolishing their own world.
"Where am I?" he asked himself, getting out his sonic screwdriver looking for the closest machine that could enlighten him. He pondered the idea of just going back into the TARDIS and taking a look at the screen, but there was no fun in that, adventure is the key when you're a Time Lord.
The Doctor ran off to the left, and then to the right, and back to the left again. After sprinting through the empty carnage, he came to what looked like a road. He slowed to a stop to catch his breath, and took another look around for a sign of where he was. To his left was a fallen sign, he moved closer to see what was written. The sign said,
"London – 14 miles"
He once again looked at his watch, then to the Sun and then counted on his fingers, "I must be in Watford. Why Watford? Nothing like the Nihlepi beach, why would I want to be taken here?" he wondered to himself. He contemplated the run to London, but then realised that in the current situation, he'd probably need to save the running for later, and decided to take the quick route.