It had been a perfectly normal day. That is, until the school blew up.
Clara Oswald herded her students out of the classroom. The hallways were full of fire and the air rang with sirens and panicked screams.
"Go to the top of the hill!" she shouted at the kids, pointing. "I'm going back inside to look for more people to help!"
The students took off running in the direction she pointed to, and Clara ran back into the smoke-filled building, pulling her cardigan over her mouth to prevent smoke from getting in her lungs.
"Hello? Hello?" she called, running from classroom to classroom. She could hear children's voices up ahead, but the familiar halls had been transformed into a fiery, smoke-filled labyrinth by the conflagration.
She staggered onward for what seemed like ages, calling for the children she could always hear but never reach. The smoke transformed everyday objects hanging on the walls into a terrifying phantasmagoria. Her head began to swim as her lungs filled with the carbon monoxide in the smoke.
"Is anyone here?" she gasped one more time, staggering, coughing, retching. The world went black.
The first thing Clara noticed as she slowly regained consciousness was an insistent beeping sound. Then she felt the IV.
In a moment of pure panic, she jerked upright, clawing at the white sheets on her, fighting desperately to get out of the bed she was in. The blinding light that filled the room burned her eyes, and she felt like she was drowning in a sea of white.
"Woah, woah, calm down, hero girl," said a redheaded woman around Clara's age who appeared by her side. She wrapped her arms around Clara, restraining her. "Calm down, calm down, it's okay."
The redhead's clasp turned into more of a hug as Clara stopped fighting. The strange woman stroked her long brown hair comfortingly and Clara began to relax.
"Where am I?" she inquired when she was calm, surveying the wide, whote room filled with… well, she could only presume it was medical equipment.
"The medical bay," the woman replied, letting her go and moving to check one of the many scanners in the room.
"Medical bay of what, though? Just a minute ago I was in a school," Clara said. The look on the other woman's face as she turned to her made her stomach sink.
"It was just a minute ago, right?" she asked anxiously. "Please don't tell me I've been unconscious for days."
"Not days," the redhead rushed to reassure her. "Just - well, a day and a half."
Seeing the horrified look on Clara's face, she hurried on.
"Don't worry about it," she said. "You're on a spaceship that's also a time machine. I can get you back to when you need to be."
"A spaceship time machine?" Clara responded sceptically, crossing her arms and then gasping with pain due to the IV.
"Oh! Sorry! Let me take that out."
The woman proceeded to explain as she worked.
"It's my own invention," she told her. "Well, not completely my own, but when does anyone really ever invent anything truly new? Just about every invention is an improvement on an old idea. In fact, I… um… really got off topic, didn't I." She scratched her head awkwardly and continued. "Anyway, I basically mixed together designs for spaceships and time machines until I got one that could do both. I came up with a name for it the other day. Want to hear?"
Clara remained silent, but the stranger pushed on undeterred.
"TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Bit less bulky than saying spaceship time machine, don't you think?" She didn't give Clara any time to reply before continuing.
"But that's not even the best part! Wanna know what the best part is? The size!"
"How d'you mean?" Clara asked.
"It's really big - on the inside. On the outside, though, it's just a 1930s police telephone telephone box. Genius, right?"
Clara, still sceptical, brushed it aside.
"That's great, but I want to know two things: Who are you, and how did I get here?"
The woman rubbed her neck.
"My name is Amy Pond. Your second question, though… well, ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."
Clara sat back down on the bed as Amy bandaged her arm. She gave Amy her most stubborn look."
"I'm not moving until you tell me. If, as you say, we're in a time machine, which by the way I'm still not convinced about, I guess I have the time. So spill," Clara told her.
"Well, then." Amy cleared her throat. "Where to start…"