In which Greg is very confused

Greg blinked. This history class was so boring that all he could do was doodle on his notebook. He couldn't wait for his next class, English. The students were supposed to bring a favorite book to class and read out loud from it. He had brought his four favorites, because why not? They were all good. He reached under his desk for his backpack, to make sure they were all there.

Greg blinked. He froze, one hand holding his backpack. He was now sitting on a flight of stairs. Why? He stood up and looked around. This room wasn't his classroom! It was very familiar, but not from real life. How on Earth could this be… but it had to be it! No. The TARDIS was fictional, Doctor Who was a TV program, and any moment he would snap out of this and back into history class. He slapped himself to make sure, yelped in pain, and dropped his backpack. He wasn't daydreaming. He was really standing in the TARDIS console room. "Hi, anyone who's here!" he shouted. "Beware Me!"

"Are you all right, Greg?" asked a puzzled Scottish accent at his elbow. He turned and looked at the owner of the voice. Ok, Amy Pond. This was getting weirder every second.

"I'm fine," he answered to be polite.

"Good. I thought you were hurt. And how'd you change so fast?"

"Um, what do you mean?"

"Your shoes are… well… less old, and your shirt is different."

"Uh…"

"Hullo, Greg! Don't scare him, Pond, he's new."

"Oh, hi Doctor. I just got here, so how do you know who I am?"

"This is the first time you've met me, but this isn't the first time I've met you."

"Oh. That makes sense. I suppose," Greg said, trying to go along with him.

"You jump through my timeline."

"Oh." Greg mentally choked. What the Merlin was going on here?

"We were going to a museum," Amy told Greg.

"Alfava Metraxis after that. Wait, why did I say that?" And how did these people know him so well?

"You say random things sometimes. Don't let it worry you."

"Um, I didn't before, so why now?"

"I don't know. Maybe the Doctor knows."

"Possibly. Possibly not." Greg tugged the sleeves of his battered black leather jacket down and noticed a large watch-like thing on his wrist. Vortex Manipulator, he thought, and made a mental note to ask about it later. Maximilien Robespierre, this was confusing!

"Greg, Pond! Nearly there!"

"Okie," said Greg, and he and Amy went up to the console.

"Vworp vworp," went the TARDIS.

"Think I'll stay," Greg responded to the Doctor's unspoken question. Amy and the Doctor left the TARDIS, leaving Greg alone with his thoughts, in such disorder as they were. He went and sat down in the pilot chair again and pulled out his journal. First he tried to get his thoughts in some degree of order. Ok, somehow I'm in Doctor Who, apparently. Mega-weird, but should be fun if I don't go insane first. And kind of like River, then. So this thing on my wrist is definetely a Vortex Manipulator. Hmm... Lessee... "Come here, ickle pencil," he muttered, fishing around in his backpack. Yaghh... The next thing he heard was River saying, "Oh, and I could do with an air corridor."