A/N: This story is based on the YouTube series Doctor Puppet, created by Alisa Stern and other members of the channel. There will be eight episodes total. Link is in the description below.

playlist?list=PL8_AoMQwUclOQlgbDzIPAnPcis5a5DLLW

Also, I apologize in advance if I'm not in character with the other Doctors. I've only watched a few Classic Doctor episodes and don't know them as well as I know the modern Doctors. I've mostly grown up watching Doctors 9-12, so hopefully I've stayed in character enough with them at least.

Chapter 1: The Red X

It was a dreary day in the city of modern day London, but the Doctor didn't mind. No matter what the weather was like in any time or place, he was always happy, especially when there wasn't an immediate threat present; it was nice to chill every once in a while, he thought. At the moment, the only known 'threat' was the small chance of rain, but even then, the Doctor wouldn't be bothered, and he doubted the pigeons would either, as they were too busy mooching off of the loaf of bread that he bought from the bakery twenty floors below him (the roof that which he had parked the TARDIS on top of); though he was happy to share, as he felt like he may have bought a bit too much for one stomach to ingest. If only his In-Laws were there to share it with him…

But they had their own place now, the Doctor reminded himself. He gave them a new house in a quiet neighborhood, and no doubt, by now, they had their own jobs—Rory as a nurse, and Amy as…well, who really knew, but the Doctor doubted she continued her 'job' as a Kissogram. Whether that was a real thing was anybody's guess, even the Doctor's.

Sighing contently, he continued tossing bread crumbs to the pigeons when he suddenly heard a slight rustling from behind him. He turned to see a small note that someone had taped to the TARDIS door rather ominously. On it read "to the Doctor."

"Curious…" he said, pausing. "Who left that there?" Stuffing the now-empty wrapper into his jacket pocket, he went over to the note, pulled it from the door, and opened it, revealing a large red X. He grinned, having received many notes from his wife, River Song, that she often signed with an X, symbolizing a kiss, and he deduced that the 'love note' was from her.

He chuckled. "River…you and your 'love notes.' Some things never change." He then saw a blurry image above the X that he couldn't read. "But that's strange..." he said with a frown, "the message is blurry. Why would you send me a blurry message? Oh, well…nothing a trusty sonic screwdriver can't handle!" He then took out his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and scanned the blur to reveal a message that said in all caps "RUN!" as well as a small list of coordinates. He frowned again, this time in alarm. "'Run?' Run where? There's nothing here…nothing but a bunch of hungry pigeons!" He then paused again. "Unless they're not pigeons at all. Perhaps it's another Zygon invasion! Have I been feeding Zygons this whole time?"

As ludicrous as the theory sounded, the Doctor couldn't help but turn back to the pigeons to give them a good talking-to when suddenly, the TARDIS made her usual fanfare of noise—the signal that she was about to take off. This also gave the Doctor the thought that maybe it wasn't the pigeons, and was, in fact, something much more sinister, and one that was happening elsewhere.

"Okay, so it's not the pigeons!" he admitted as the wind ruffled his hair. "It must be something else that's happening somewhere else! I'm coming, Old Girl!" Abandoning the pigeons, he hopped back into the TARDIS, and she dematerialized a few seconds later.

A minute later, they arrived on a desolate red planet that reminded the Doctor of Earth's neighboring planet, Mars, except that this place wasn't Mars. It was the planet that the note suggested: Planet X.

"Planet X?" the Doctor said with a frown after he exited the TARDIS, note in hand. "Why have we been brought here? Far as I know, there's no intelligent life on Planet X, and no one ever visits here because of the fact that it's out in what people call 'the boonies of the universe.' Looks like we're in for a mystery, eh, Old Girl? Just what the doctor ordered…literally, because I haven't dealt with a proper mystery in ages." Ever since he dropped the Ponds off at their new house, and with River spending twelve-thousand consecutive life sentences in prison for his murder (though the murder had been totally faked…obviously), he had been mostly travelling alone, finding trouble to get involved in, since he hadn't received any distress calls in days. He sighed. "I suppose I'll just wander around and see if there's anything out of the ordinary. Of course, there might not be anything going on here; in which case, this might probably be the shortest and most boring trip I've had in twelve-hundred years." He then paused, thinking better. "Then again, if River actually is here, this trip might not be so bad, after all." Perhaps this was a secret date that River had set up; in which case, he was in for a treat, and most likely one that would be unforgettable. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when the TARDIS made grinding noises, telling him to stay focused. He nodded, straightening his bow tie. "You're right, I should get going now."

He turned on his heels to begin walking when he abruptly paused again, this time having a strange scent, like burning bread, come to him. Glancing in the direction of the smell, he saw smoke rising from behind a nearby rock. "Curious…" He frowned, inhaling deeply. "Huh, burning bread? Why would someone be baking on an inhabitable red planet in the middle of nowhere? Could it be River, or something much more sinister? This mystery just got more interesting."

His sonic gripped tightly in hand, the Doctor cautiously crept toward the rock, unsure of what horrors he might see on the other side.

"River?" he called nervously, walking around the rock to the other side. "Why are you baking bread in the middle of—Oh!" He suddenly paused when he saw an unfamiliar brunette woman who appeared to be in her early twenties, wearing a red dress with a white cooking apron.

"Hello?" the woman turned to him, puzzled and startled.

"Oh, sorry I startled you," said the Doctor, awkwardly walking out from behind the rock. "I thought you were someone else." He then waved to the woman and smiled. "Hi, I'm the Doctor."

"I'm Clara," the woman smiled back, introducing herself. "Nice to meet you, Doctor."

"Clara…" he said, thinking of the character in the famous ballet, the Nutcracker. "That's a beautiful name." A beautiful name for a beautiful young woman, he couldn't help thinking to himself, suddenly feeling mesmerized by her large, sparkling brown eyes—eyes that bore right into him and tugged at his heartstrings. Suddenly snapping himself out of the unbeknownst trance he was in, he shook his head and narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. "So, what brings you here, Clara?"

"Oh, I was just trying to make a soufflé again," she said in a 'no big deal' manner. "I'm so close to perfecting it. Want to try it?" She then raised a burned soufflé up for the Doctor to see, and he realized that that was where the strange smoke was coming from. He was thankful it didn't turn out to be anything worse.

Despite everything, he waved his hand, declining, saying, "Oh, no, that's alright. I just had a big bowl of Fish Custard a while back." It was a half-lie, as he had no intention of eating anything that was charred through, but he didn't want to be rude all the same.

"I understand," Clara said sadly. "You don't want to eat something that's been burnt to a crisp. I know I'm not that great of a cook."

The Doctor shook his head, suddenly feeling flustered. "Oh, no, I wasn't saying that. I…uh… I'm sure that's…better than any other attempts you've made. Though, I wonder where you get the eggs and the milk from, especially in a place like this." He then gestured to the red planet around them, showing nothing but rocky wasteland, an environment very unlikely to produce any milk or eggs.

Clara frowned quizzically at him. "Um, I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."

Seriously, how can you not know? He wanted to scream at her, feeling incredulous that she couldn't see the painfully obvious. Instead, he said, suddenly thinking about the note in his hand, "Never mind. Actually, may I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Clara said with a raised eyebrow.

"Were you the one that possibly sent me this note?" the Doctor asked, showing her the slip of paper that he found taped to the TARDIS door. "At first, I thought it was my wife who sent it, but now I'm not so sure, since she's obviously not here. Then again, no one seems to be here but us, and no one ever comes here."

He still couldn't wrap his head around how this mysterious woman could be here at all, and he doubted she was a local. Strange things tended to happen on this planet, the Doctor knew, and most of them were a hell of a longshot from good. He has never been to this planet himself, but he heard rumors that people who have come here went mad, experiencing things that one could only ever experience in nightmares. One rumor was that one person claimed to have seen the Devil Himself, which was enough for the Doctor to have a good enough excuse to stay away from this place. Now that he was here…well…god knows what he would experience. Hell, for all he knew, he might experience something far worse than what he'd seen during the Time War. The very thought sent shivers down the Doctor's spine.

Also, he couldn't help but feel like he has actually been to this planet before…at least once. For reasons unknown, he had the vague memory of arriving at a similar location such as this, and he met with a man that he didn't recognize; though at the same time he sensed that he did recognize the man. He tried to remember who the man was, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember, which aggravated him.

Clara stared at the note for a few seconds and then shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't—Whoa!" She was suddenly interrupted as a massive cloud of soot rose from the burnt soufflé, fogging up the Doctor's vision and making him cough. Clara started coughing too, saying, "What's happening? Doctor, what do I do?"

The Doctor was unable to answer right away, feeling his chest burning from the smoke and his eyes watering with tears. He ran back around the rock where he'd come to escape the cloud, holding his hand over his mouth and nose like a face mask. When he was finally able to breathe again, he used the note to blow the smoke away from the area. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing behind the rock. Nothing and no one. Clara had gone.

"Clara?" the Doctor called for her, but there was no answer. In fact, there wasn't any hint that she was anywhere in the area. He frowned. "That's strange… I'm sure she was here. Or maybe she was never here in the first place. This place has always been a bit dodgy and is known to give people hallucinations, which is likely the reason why people often avoid this place. Perhaps I had simply imagined her here. But I've never seen her face before…at least, I don't think I have. One thing's for sure…there was definitely something 'impossible' about that woman, but I can't put my finger on what it is." He then shook his head, lifting the note up to his face. "Oh, well, that's a mystery for another time. Meanwhile, I need to find out who really sent this to me. If it wasn't Clara, or River, then who was it?"

Immediately after he finished speaking, an all-too-familiar male voice responded, "I could ask you the same question."

He then looked up to find his spikey-haired predecessor standing twenty feet from him, leaning against the TARDIS—his TARDIS—with his arms crossed, and all he could think was, Oh, fuzzbuckets.