DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or Doctor Who.
"Elizabeth, this is Carson. He's awake."
The Doctor sat bolt upright, breathing heavily and scanning the room for the source of the voice. He didn't know where he was or what had happened, and he hoped to god that he hadn't ended up in another prison again. Two times this week was enough. His eyes settled on a man in a white lab coat, stood by the door and eyeing him warily.
"What's going on? Where am I?" He asked the man, looking at him pointedly.
"You're in an isolation room in our city," the man (possibly a medical doctor of some kind?) replied in a thick Scottish accent. "You were…" He trailed off as the Doctor leapt up off the bed and began to closely examine the walls. "You need to lie back down, you were injured!" The man in the lab coat made his way towards him with worry on his face.
The doctor spun around to face him. "Injured? No, not my sort of thing." He reached a hand down to the smooth, white bandages on his stomach and pulled them off, revealing unmarked skin underneath.
The man was temporarily lost for words. "What! But, you were shot – I treated it myself. How did you do that? We know the Ancients had advanced healing ability, but-"
"Not enough time to explain the benefits of a healing coma," The Doctor muttered, and then said louder: "What happened?"
The man visibly shook himself, regaining his composure. "One of our teams found you on an uninhabited planet with a bullet wound in the stomach. You've been unconscious for a few hours. You're not human." It wasn't phrased as a question.
"Nope, two hearts, not human." The Doctor bounced on his heels for a moment, but was suddenly seized with a terrible thought. "Did you give me any drugs while I was unconscious?" he asked with sudden urgency.
The man gaped for a minute before saying, "Wha- No, as soon as we saw that you had two hearts I decided not to administer drugs as we had no idea how you would react. I take it I was right?" He asked, seeing the Doctor's face.
"Yep, can't have Aspirin. Kills me dead." The Doctor went back to his examination of the walls.
"What's your name?" The man asked.
"I'm the Doctor."
"What do you mean? Doctor Who?"
"Just the Doctor," he said, giving the man a look that said 'drop it'.
"Right." The man nodded and fell silent.
The Doctor reached a hand to his chest before realizing that he didn't have his suit and asking, "Where's my screwdriver?"
"Screwdriver?" The man said in confusion.
"Little stick, has a blue bit at the end. It was in my coat pocket."
"You mean this?" He reached into his pocket and drew out the sonic.
"Yes!" The Doctor snatched it out of his and began scanning the wall. The man stepped forward.
"You can't do that-"
The wall gave a tremendous groan and the Doctor immediately stopped, saying, "Oh, I am so, so sorry."
"What was that?" The man asked.
"Your city didn't like me scanning it, that's all. What's your name?"
"Carson, Carson Beckett."
The Doctor stopped for a second. "Carson Beckett. I've heard that name before. Where have I heard the name Carson Beckett before?"
The door opening cut off the Doctor's thought process. Three people came through, a dark haired woman, a tall, dark haired man and a larger, shorter brown-haired man. They all stopped when they saw him.
"Doctor Beckett, he was injured, wasn't he?" The woman asked.
"Yes, but by the time he woke up he was healed."
That caught her attention. "An Ancient?"
Before either of them could reply, the Doctor interrupted.
"Hello! Not an Ancient. They were annoying, too focused on finding the secrets of ascension. I'm the Doctor."
"Just the Doctor," Carson confirmed.
"Right." The woman gestured to herself. "I'm Elizabeth Weir, this is John Sheppard and Rodney McKay."
The Doctor slammed a hand to his forehead. "Oh, I am so thick! You're the Atlantis Expedition! Ha! That's where I'd heard the name Carson Beckett before! Oh, I've always wanted to meet you guys!"
"You've heard of us? And you've met an Ancient?" Elizabeth was looking at him like he'd grown an extra head.
"Yes! Of course I've heard of you! You're famous! Unless… Oh, right. Not yet. And yes, I've met the Ancients. Never had much time for them."
"But the Ancients ascended years and years ago. You don't look that old." John said.
"Oh, you've made the same mistake as everyone else. I'm 903 years old."
Everyone looked sharply at him.
"But – that's impossible!" Carson spluttered.
"I'm a Time Lord."
Rodney snorted. "Bragging much?"
"No, that's not a title I've given myself, that's the name of my species." The Doctor got an odd look in his eyes, but it went away almost immediately.
"Sorry, can someone tell me the year? Time travel, you can never keep it straight in your head."
"Time travel?" Rodney asked, bewildered. "It's 2005."
"Okie dope, got it, thanks."
"Are you sure he doesn't have a concussion?" Elizabeth asked, looking over at Carson.
"Well, I did check, but it can't hurt to check again. Doctor, you really ought to get some rest." Carson began to try and nudge him in the direction of the examination table.
"Rest? Why would I need rest? Not human, don't need rest." He started bouncing on his heels again. "Nope, nada, don't need rest, I feel completely, perfectly fine-" His rant was abruptly cut off as his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the floor.
