The Doctor awakes in a strange body and a disabled TARDIS, with no recollection of how he got there. Can the ponies he meets help him get back on his feet, er, hooves? And is this new world as safe as it appears?
A Doctor Who/My Little Pony crossover story. The Doctor awakes to find that he has regenerated into an unfamiliar body, and his TARDIS is stranded in a strange universe without power. To get back on his feet (or more accurately, his hooves), he'll need the help of the ponies he meets there, including the friendly but absent-minded Derpy Hooves and the irritable Golden Harvest. But all is not well in Ponyville, and the seemingly serene town hides a secret that could put all of their lives in jeopardy.
The Doctor couldn’t see a thing and yet he could still tell. He had died, he knew that much. He had died there, in the TARDIS, and he still didn’t know why. His memory was foggy, he had no awareness of his own body, and it was far too dark. The darkness scared him, not because he was afraid of the dark, but because he knew that if he was still alive, he had regenerated, and if he had regenerated, he would still be in the TARDIS. That meant one of two devastating situations. Either something had gone wrong with his regeneration, and he was now blind, or—even worse—the TARDIS had completely lost power.
The first thing he needed to do, as he had done every other time he had regenerated, was to figure out just what sort of body he had ended up in. That was going to be harder to do this time around; he couldn’t see a thing, and could hardly feel his own body.
“Uhhhh…” he moaned. His mind did a double take when he heard his own voice. “Uhhhh-aaaah! Ah! Ay-Ee-Eye-Oh-Ooooh! One-two! One-two! Allons-y! Geronimo!”
He could talk, that was a start. Although he really needed to start thinking up a new catchphrase. It had become almost a tradition for him to invent new mannerisms and personality quirks to go with his new body. Doing so helped him adapt to the new body, made him stand out if he ever crossed paths with one of his past incarnations, and perhaps most importantly, kept friends and enemies alike on their toes.
He still couldn’t see, or feel his arms and legs. “Let’s see… I can start with the mouth, and work my way from there. Thonghe!”
He said the last word as he stuck his tongue out. Even though he couldn’t see himself, he felt very silly. “Yes. Tongue. Very good. Teeth!” He rolled his tongue around in his mouth to feel his teeth. It almost felt as though he had more this time than in his old body. But this was no time to sit and count them.
“Nose?” He took a deep breath. “Yowzah!” He was in the TARDIS, he now knew that for sure, but HOW he knew! He could smell her better than he ever had before. Slightly metallic, but something was off. He could smell only the faintest hint of electricity, and it smelled acrid, like a battery that had expired. He tried to reach up a hand to hold his nose, and felt something impact on his face, but try as he might, he couldn’t get a grip on his nose. That bothered him.
“Let’s see… eyes.” He opened his eyes (he could feel his eyelids move), and was greeted once again by pitch-blackness. No, not pitch black—he saw the faintest trails of moonlight emanating from twelve tiny windowpanes. It was dark in the TARDIS, but not so much outside it. He started in the direction of the doors, but then hesitated. He really should try to finish checking his new body out before he went waltzing into unknown territory.
“Alright, mouth, ears, nose, eyes… arms.” He tried to move his arms again, and this time heard a clopping sound.
“No, those are feet. Arms!” The clopping sound came again, this time from further behind him. He had been right the first time. But…
“Oh dear. One, two… three… four.” He counted off his legs. This wasn’t right. Time Lords had two legs. Even Humans had two legs. He raised one of his legs to see if the faint moonlight coming through the window would allow him to see what was wrong. He could make out the outline of something short and stumpy—not a hand, and certainly not a foot. Almost more like a hoof.
“Not good, not good…” he muttered. “Let’s review. I died. So, it seems, did the TARDIS. I regenerated into… something. I have no idea what is outside those doors, but I have no idea what’s inside this TARDIS either. Myself included.”
That did it. Until he had more concrete knowledge of what the hell had happened, he was useless. And with no light to see by, he wasn’t going to find out much by staying put. He needed to get outside.
Clip, clop; clip, clop. He paced warily toward the TARDIS’s doors. He opened them and was greeted by a positively serene view. He was in a town. Not an alien landscape, or some steel juggernaut of a space station, but a pastoral village that looked almost like the kind you’d find on Earth. The roofs were thatched, and there was a fountain, and little tents. It looked almost like a Renaissance Festival; all of the good aspects of Earth’s middle ages with none of the bad.
But it wasn’t Earth. At least, not the Earth he knew. If it were, the TARDIS would still be able to draw power from the universe. The Doctor moved forward and then stumbled. Looking down, he could see that his assessment in the darkened Tardis had been correct. Those were definitely hooves. Four of them. He spotted a shop window reflecting the light of the moon, and moved toward it carefully, still not quite used to a four-legged gait.
In the window he could see his reflection, and it was quite unlike anything he had seen before. His face was long, like that of a horse, but rounder, with two enormous eyes frozen in wonder. His skin (or was it fur? He couldn’t tell) was dyed a dusty brown, and his dark brown hair was swept back like a mane. He turned a quarter turn, moving one leg at a time. Yes, he definitely had four legs. And a tail! He allowed himself a slight grin as he shook it about, delighted at having a completely new body part.
But this wasn’t right. Time Lords didn’t look like horses. If anything, they looked like humans, and no matter how many times they regenerated that wasn’t supposed to change. He had enough difficulty blending into human society when he looked just like one of them. How, wondered the Doctor, will I do so in a form like this?
As he turned back toward the glass window, one more aspect of his new body caught his eye. On his hip (or perhaps, he considered grimly, his flank) was some sort of icon. It quite clearly resembled an hourglass, in color and all. It certainly didn’t look like a natural marking.
He looked back at the TARDIS. He had no light source he could use to find his way around it as he made repairs. His sonic screwdriver seemed to have gotten lost during the regeneration. And besides, in its current, powered-down state, the TARDIS somehow felt less safe than normal. He searched his memory for the source of his unease. How had he died exactly? What could have killed him without him even being aware of it? He still didn’t know.
He wasn’t going to make any progress on the TARDIS now, in the middle of the night, with no one to aid him and no light to see by. He looked around for some sign of life. The air was tranquil, but he saw a light come on in one of the thatched-roof houses. “Electric,” he observed with amusement. He walked toward the house with the light on, hoping to find somebody who might be able to provide him a room for the night. Or perhaps—he shuddered as he thought this—a stable.
Knock, knock. The Doctor rapped on the door of the house with one of his front hooves. He realized as he did this how odd it would seem for the occupant, whoever they were, to open the door and see a horse waiting there for them. But he couldn’t think of any better way to get their attention. Besides, he thought, he wasn’t just a horse. He was a talking horse. A talking horse fluent in English, for that matter!
The door opened, or rather, it half-opened. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the door (and the doors of the neighboring houses, for that matter) was like a stable door: split in half along the middle. The top half opened and the Doctor found himself facing a creature almost exactly like whatever he had become.
This one was different than him, of course. She (he could tell somehow that it was a she) had a gray coat, and a lemon-yellow mane. More oddly, her large golden eyes seemed to be facing in completely different directions.
“Hello,” said the gray horse-creature, slowly. “We don’t usually get many visitors at this time of night. Are you looking for Carrot Top?”
“Y-yes,” stuttered the Doctor, a little bit startled to be talking to another horse. “I mean, no. Who? No, I’m really just looking for a place to stay for the night.”
The gray horse’s face brightened. “Oh, that’s good,” she said. “Carrot Top’s asleep and probably doesn’t want to be woken up. I was just sneaking down to get something out of the fridge.”
“You’re… a horse,” said the Doctor dully, “A horse with a fridge.”
“I’m a pony,” rebuked the gray pony. “You don’t seem to be from around here. What’s your name?”
“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor replied, relieved to finally be in a situation he had some familiarity with.
“Doctor who?” the gray pony asked.
“Just the Doctor,” responded the Doctor with a note of satisfaction in his voice.
The gray pony narrowed her eyes at the unfamiliar pony standing in front of her. “I don’t think I’ll be allowed to let you stay if you can’t even tell me your name. Carrot Top wouldn’t like that.”
“No—wait!” the doctor yelled as the door started to shut. He didn’t want to mess up his chance to find lodging for the night. “Yes, I am a doctor. And I have a name. I’m Doctor…” He cast his eyes around, looking for inspiration for a false name. His attention was drawn back to the odd form he seemed to have regenerated into. “Dr. Hooves! That’s my name. Yes, Dr. Hooves. Now may I please come in?”
The gray pony’s jaw dropped. “Hooves?”
“Yes, Hooves,” the Doctor replied anxiously. Why couldn’t he have thought up a better name? What was the likelihood of a pony being named Hooves? The very idea—
“That’s my name, too!” exclaimed the gray pony happily. “My name’s Derpy Hooves!”
“Well, Derpy…” the Doctor said as he breathed a sigh of relief, “Shouldn’t you be letting me inside now that you know my real name?”
“Of course!” said Derpy, as if she had forgotten what he had asked for. “Come on in!”
Derpy unlatched the bottom half of the stable door and led the Doctor inside. “We have a guest room that’s not being used,” whispered Derpy. “You can stay there for the night.”
“Thank you,” the Doctor whispered back. He assumed they were whispering so as not to wake “Carrot Top”, whoever that was.
As Derpy turned to lead the Doctor to his room, he noticed that she had a marking on her flank just like he did. But hers was different from his own, depicting what seemed to be a stream of bubbles. He considered asking her about it, but then decided against it. Better that he avoid asking anything that could potentially jeopardize his relationship with his host.
They went up a staircase, with some difficulty on the part of the Doctor, who had only just gotten started walking with four legs on flat ground. When they finally reached the top, they were in a narrow hallway. “Here we are,” said Derpy, “Second door on your left.”
“Thank you,” the Doctor repeated. “I really should be—“ He was interrupted by a loud rumbling from his stomach.
“Actually,” he said sheepishly, “did you say you had a fridge? I haven’t eaten in some time.”
“Oh, sure!” said Derpy, seemingly forgetting that they had been whispering. “It’s back downstairs in the main room. Do you want me to get you something?”
“No, that’s quite alright,” the Doctor said quickly. “I can get something myself, if you don’t mind.” He was starving, but he knew from experience how difficult it was to adapt to food when in a new body. And with him in the body of a completely different species, it might be safer to try eating without witnesses.
“Oh,” said Derpy, looking a little bit disappointed. “In that case, I think I’ll turn in for the night. See you first thing in the morning!”
She turned into the first door on the left and closed the door. The Doctor, happy to be done talking with the wall-eyed mare, turned back toward the staircase to the main room. He took one step down, tripped over his front legs, and tumbled headfirst down the stairs.
The Doctor knew he had died. But he wasn’t quite confident he knew for sure anything that had happened before or after that. What had he been doing beforehand? He didn’t remember. Whatever it was, it certainly hadn’t seemed important at the time; he hadn’t been saving the Earth or facing down hostile aliens or anything like that, not this time. But the next thing he remembered was waking up in a dead TARDIS, in a body completely alien to him—to him, someone who had probably encountered more alien species in his lifetime than others had in all of their lives combined.
He was some sort of pony now, and he had gone looking for shelter from the night only to find it in the house of yet another pony who called herself “Derpy Hooves”. He had fashioned a pseudonym to go by in this world—the somewhat uncreative “Dr. Hooves”—and in doing so had earned Derpy’s trust. And he had just been going to get something to eat when he had tripped and fallen down the stairs.
In any case, he had finally come to his senses and was hungrier than ever. The clock on the wall said it was one o’clock in the morning. He hadn’t bothered to check it before he went upstairs, but he was confident that at least an hour had passed. He needed food.
He struggled to get to his feet (hooves, now) and stumbled toward the fridge. He opened it, and it was ice cold. Yet it definitely was a refrigerator. The inside was lit with an electric bulb, like the room he was in. But he couldn’t remember seeing any power lines outside, where he had left the TARDIS. Before he had seen the electric light coming from this house, he would have sworn he had landed in a pre-industrial society. He knelt down and looked at the base of the fridge, yet there were no cords leading from it to the wall or floor. Somehow, this fridge was running off its own power.
But what was he doing investigating the technological progress of ponies? What mattered was that it was a working fridge, and he was famished. He moved back to the open door of the fridge.
The fridge was far from fully stocked. It seemed like the gray mare had done a number on it already. Still, what was left was varied: milk, eggs, fruits, vegetables, cheese. The only thing absent was meat, but then again, this was the house of a pony.
The Doctor proceeded to try almost every item in the fridge. Most went down the drain in the nearby sink, half-chewed. Some were devoured heartily, but weren’t nearly enough to fill him. By the time he was full, the only items remaining in the fridge were those he found it impossible to open with only teeth and hooves: a bunch of bananas, a tube of tomato paste, and a jar of jam.
“I’m afraid I may have overdone it,” mumbled the Doctor as he observed the state of the fridge. He briefly considered leaving a note apologizing for the state of the fridge, but then realized that even if he did have a pencil and paper, he wouldn’t have much luck writing if he couldn’t even open a jar of jam. He glanced at the clock. It read three o'clock now. He wanted sleep, real sleep this time, not another bump on the head. He crept upstairs, this time paying close attention to the position of each stair.
In the hallway at the top of the stairs he went into the second door on the left, as Derpy had instructed, and was greeted by a well-made bed. A bed! He had almost expected a stall. How long had it been since he had slept in a bed? As a time traveller, he took advantage of his ability to skip straight to morning more than was probably healthy for him. Not that he necessarily needed sleep most of the time (and he had gotten plenty of rest out cold in the TARDIS after his surprise regeneration), but without it, one adventure after another caused him to get easily agitated. Tense. Amy would have convinced him to call it a night after an Earth day’s worth of adventures. Donna too. But they were gone, now. He had gone so long without friends…
He couldn’t sleep yet. He was restless. He left his room and stood outside the adjacent one, the one Derpy had entered. But that wasn’t enough. He pushed the door open an inch and peered in.
Derpy lay in her bed, sound asleep. Outside her window the sky was clear, with distant stars twinkling in the horizon. The only sounds to be heard were the sounds of nature: chirping crickets, the occasional hoot of an owl, and above it all, the quiet, rhythmic breathing of a pony who had invited a complete stranger into her home.
The Doctor knew that this was what he had wanted to see. Somewhere, maybe a universe away, was something dangerous. Something that had killed him. Something he still couldn’t even remember or identify. But in this place, in this time, a world was at peace.
He closed the door and returned to his own room. That night he slept more comfortably than he had in many, many years.
The Doctor awoke to an awful din coming from downstairs. Someone was clearly very upset, and while he couldn’t make out the entirety of their rant, he could pick out key phrases such as “personal responsibility”. Somewhat concerned, he crept down the stairs to the main room. There he saw Derpy Hooves with her head hung low, as what seemed to be yet another pony admonished her for some perceived wrongdoing.
“Every single day!” the unknown pony screeched. “I am sick and tired of having to refill this refrigerator every single day!”
This new pony was even stranger-looking than Derpy Hooves. Her coat was the color of lemon custard, and she was a ginger, or at least, the closest he thought a pony could come to being a ginger. Hardly fair, he thought to himself as he remembered his own chocolate-brown mane. The Doctor also couldn’t help but notice a marking on her flank, just like he and Derpy had. Hers was shaped like a bunch of carrots.
“But… I didn’t,” mumbled Derpy Hooves, “It wasn’t me this time!” She seemed like she was about to burst into tears.
“You didn’t!” repeated the ginger-maned pony, derisively. “It wasn’t you! I suppose somepony just dropped by in the middle of the night just to eat every single thing in our fridge?”
The doctor briefly considered slinking back upstairs and leaving once the coast was clear. But he couldn’t just leave Derpy there to take the blame for his poor manners. “Actually—“ he started.
At the sound of his voice the ginger-maned pony let out a muffled shriek and jumped about a foot into the air. The Doctor realized that Derpy probably hadn’t yet gotten a chance to tell her flatmate about his arrival last night.
“Who in Tartarus is this?” hissed the bewildered pony to Derpy.
“I’m sorry, I hadn’t gotten to properly introduce myself. I’m the Doctor.” The ginger-maned pony gave him a skeptical look. “Dr. Hooves,” he sighed. “Your friend was kind enough to offer me a place to stay last night.”
“Was she now?" The yellow and orange pony glared at him. "And I suppose next you’re going to say you ate everything in the fridge after she let you in?”
“Well, there wasn’t a whole lot—“ he began, before noticing Derpy nodding vigorously behind his aggressor. “—Yes. I was famished. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you…”
The ginger-maned pony’s mouth turned up into a smug grin. “Well. We can work out a rent agreement later. For now, I think you and her—“ She jerked her head in Derpy’s direction, “—should go take care of the grocery situation.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t intending on staying another—“ started the Doctor.
The irritated mare stomped her hoof on the ground threateningly. “Food! Then rent!”
The Doctor was about to protest further, when something grabbed him from below his forearms and lifted him off the ground, pulling him backwards toward the front door. “No! Please! I’ll do whatever you—“
Then he was out the door and it had slammed shut behind him.
The Doctor only had a moment to flail around before whatever had snatched him up dropped him there on the cobblestone road. The Doctor wheeled around to face whatever had abducted him. A pair of large crossed eyes stared back at him.
“Derpy!” he gasped. “You scared the daylights out of me!” Derpy’s face fell as her head bobbed up and down. The Doctor noticed that her hooves were bobbing at the same rate, a couple of inches off the ground.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Hooves,” said Derpy, dismayed. “Carrot Top was in a bad mood, so I thought we shouldn’t argue with her any more.”
The Doctor looked up at Derpy again and noticed for the first time that she had a small pair of wings on her back, flapping to a steady rhythm. “You have wings,” he said with dull surprise.
Derpy chuckled. “Of course I have wings, Dr. Hooves! I’m a Pegasus pony!
The Doctor continued to stare. He was a pony now, too. Why hadn’t he gotten wings?
“C’mon, Doctor,” said Derpy, as her smile began to falter. “You look like you’ve never seen a Pegasus pony in your life!”
“I haven’t,” admitted the Doctor. “We… don’t have those where I come from.”
“Where are you from, anyway?” asked Derpy, with a quizzical look on her face. “Is it only Earth ponies like you there?”
Earth ponies? Surely she didn’t mean actual ponies like they had on the planet Earth. He didn’t look much more like one of those than she did. That must just be what they call non-pegasi, he thought. “Yes. Only Earth Ponies. In a manner of speaking.”
Derpy’s face broke out into another grin. “Oh, you’re going to love Ponyville, then! We have Earth ponies and Pegasus ponies and even Unicorn ponies living here!”
The Doctor kept staring with bafflement. “Unicorns, too?” he asked. It was beginning to dawn on him just how little he knew about the world he had landed in. “Derpy… I’m very new here, and don’t know much about this place at all,” he confessed. “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind answering some questions for me today?”
“No problem!” Derpy said, grinning. “But you’ll have to do it while we walk. Carrot Top wanted us to get groceries, and I don’t want to disappoint her again.”
“Right, while we walk,” agreed the Doctor. He looked back down at Derpy’s hooves, still hovering off the ground. This place was so new to him, and he’d need to find out everything he could if he ever wanted to get back home.
“So I assume all of the denizens of Ponyville are, in fact, ponies?” The Doctor and Derpy had reached the town square, and he was trying to get as much information out of her as possible.
“Mostly” said Derpy, slowly. “There are a few donkeys and mules as well… cows and sheep, too, but those mostly live on the farms around the town.”
“Fascinating,” said the Doctor. “What else is there? Outside Ponyville.”
Derpy moved over to one of the produce stands that seemed to have sprouted up overnight. The Doctor looked over at the TARDIS, which still sat there on the side of one of the paths away from the square. The ponies milling about the square were largely leaving it alone, although those that passed by it often glanced at it suspiciously. They had obviously never seen anything quite like it.
“Well, the closest cities to Ponyville are Cloudsdale—that’s all pegasi—and Canterlot, which is the capital city.” She sniffed at a bundle of fresh vegetables, grinned, and stuck her snout into one of the bags she carried slung across her back. When it emerged she had a shiny gold coin between her teeth, which she tossed to the pony in charge of the stand.
“The capital, eh? And what sort of government do you have here in…” He trailed off as he realized he wasn’t aware of what this nation of ponies called themselves.
“Equestria,” said Derpy, her brow furrowed. “Where are you from, anyway? Didn’t you ever go to school?”
“It’s been a very long time since then,” said the Doctor quickly, and it was true. Although it didn’t matter how long it had been, really. The Time Lord Academy on Gallifrey hadn’t taught him anything about a parallel universe filled with candy-colored equines.
Derpy moved over to a stand that seemed to trade mainly in apples and other foods made from apples. She exchanged a greeting with the large crimson stallion managing the stand, who she called “Big Macintosh”.
“Well, Canterlot is where our leader, Princess Celestia, comes from,” continued Derpy. “She’s the one who raises the sun and moon every day. She’s really capable…”
Derpy stopped to pay the farmer pony for three fresh apples. The Doctor wasn’t done asking questions, though.
“She raises the sun and moon?” he asked incredulously. “Do you mean to say that in this world, the sun and moon don’t rise and set on their own?”
“Of course not!” said Derpy, as if he had asked whether the sky was bright green. “How’d they be supposed to do that? It takes unicorn magic to raise the sun! Even I know that!”
“Magic,” the Doctor repeated, skeptically. “You mean to tell me that unicorn ponies can use magic?”
“Actually, all ponies can use magic,” said Derpy. “Unicorns are just the only ones who can focus it to make it do what they want.”
The Doctor was skeptical. “Any pony can use magic. Even you and I?”
“Sure!” the gray Pegasus replied cheerfully. “Pegasi like me use it to help us fly, and to walk on clouds. And Earth Ponies like you can grow green things like fruits and vegetables.”
The Doctor looked at the produce they had purchased so far. It looked just like the kind that grew on Earth. “Forgive me, Derpy,” he said, “but growing plants hardly seems like a magical ability.”
Derpy nodded. “That’s what I always used to think, too,” she said, as she purchased a basket of assorted tropical fruits. “But whenever I’ve tried to plant anything in Carrot Top’s garden, it’s always withered and died. That never happens with the seeds she plants.”
The Doctor wondered if Derpy’s failure to grow plants was really due to a lack of Earth Pony magic, or something else. She was kind, and had done him a good turn, but she didn’t seem to be the brightest pony. He looked over at her. She was trying to balance a basket of eggs on her head. An egg spilled out of the basket and cracked on her face as she swayed from side to side.
“Let me help you with that!” he yelled to her, insistently. He moved over to where she was standing and wiped the egg off her face with his hoof before realizing that he’d have just as much trouble carrying the eggs as she did. Instead, he squeezed his head between her and her saddle bags, and then raised it up to let the bags slide onto his own back instead. “Now spread your wings and carefully—carefully—balance the basket between them.” Derpy did as she was instructed, and let the basket of eggs slide down her neck before nestling securely between her wings.
“Thank you, Dr. Hooves!” said Derpy, with a comically huge grin on her face. “That works so much better! I’m really glad you were around to help me out today!”
“Don’t mention it,” the Doctor said, now also smiling. It felt good, helping people. Or ponies. The feeling inside was the same either way, and he loved it.
When they had finished shopping, the Doctor and Derpy walked back toward Carrot Top’s house, both of them now carrying plenty of groceries on their backs.
“Derpy, I have one more question I’d been wondering about,” said the Doctor, after a long silence. “You have a marking there, on your flank. I’ve noticed most of the ponies here seem to have them. What do they mean, exactly?
Derpy stopped in her tracks. “Whooooooa. Are you trying to tell me you don’t even know what a cutie mark is?”
“A… cutie mark?” The Doctor realized now that he had asked something incredibly obvious, something all ponies were supposed to know, something that could betray his nature as alien to that world.
But Derpy just grinned. “Wow!” she said. “Nopony’s ever asked me as many easy questions as you have today! Most ponies ask hard questions… and sometimes they get mad at me if I don’t know the answer…”
So that’s it, the Doctor thought. That’s why Derpy had seemed so happy to answer all of my questions today. She’s just happy to finally be able to teach someone something she knows and they don’t. I’m probably the only pony she’s ever met who knows even less than she does.
But Derpy was already explaining. “A cutie mark… it’s almost like a badge of honor. When young ponies finally discover for themselves what they’re meant to do in life, that’s when their mark appears, like magic. But not like unicorn magic… even unicorns can’t control what their mark will be, or when it appears. It’s a deeper magic than that…” Derpy stared up at the clouds. She had a look of intent on her face, as if she had discovered some secret, universal truth that nobody else knew.
“So what do they mean?” the Doctor asked. “For instance, yours seems to be made of bubbles. Where did that come from?”
“Mine...” Derpy’s brow was now furrowed in thought. “I got mine… shortly after I moved to Ponyville from Cloudsdale. I think… I think it has to do with how I can adapt to difficult situations. Like, even if something really bad happens… I can just go with the flow, and bounce back. Like a bubble…”
“…I see,” said the Doctor. But he was still unsure. Derpy’s explanation seemed awfully cryptic. Almost like an oxymoron. Most bubbles didn't bounce back if they met resistance. They popped.
“Most ponies have cutie marks that make a bit more sense,” said Derpy, as if reading the Doctor’s thoughts. “Carrot Top’s cutie mark comes from how good she is at gardening, and yours… I’ve seen a lot of hourglass cutie marks before. Usually they belong to timekeepers, or watchmakers, or other ponies who specialize in the passage of time. How did you get yours?”
The Doctor looked away and said nothing. He knew how he got his cutie mark, and what it meant. But he wasn’t about to tell Derpy. She couldn’t find out that he had had it as long as he had been in that body, or that it represented his nature as a time traveler.
Carrot Top was waiting for the Doctor and Derpy when they got back to the house. She seemed to have calmed down a bit since that morning.
“I was wondering when you two would get back. I finished cleaning up the kitchen a little while ago.” She grinned slyly at the Doctor. “The hardest part was unclogging the sink. It seems like somepony didn’t actually eat as much of the food from the fridge as they claimed.”
Busted. “I’m really sorry about that,” said the Doctor, looking forlorn. “I… wasn’t feeling myself last night. I had an upset stomach, and…”
“Save your apologies,” said Carrot Top. “I realized I didn’t even introduce myself to you this morning. I’m—“
“Carrot Top,” the Doctor said, happy to finally be ahead of the curve. “Derpy’s told me a little bit about you.”
“—Golden Harvest,” she continued, looking a bit more like the annoyed pony the Doctor had seen that morning. “Carrot Top is just what she calls me. I’m a gardener by trade, but lately I’ve also filled the role of landlord. Which brings us to our rent discussion.”
The Doctor knew this had been coming. “You know, I actually only needed a place to stay last night," he said apologetically. "I really wasn’t looking for long-term accommodations.”
“That’s an awful shame,” said Golden Harvest. “In that case, I only need your room and board for last night.”
The Doctor was shocked. “Derpy just let me in last night,” he stammered. “I wasn’t aware there would be a fee.”
“Apparently, neither did she,” said Golden Harvest. “I run a tight ship here, and I can’t just provide room and board on a charitable basis.” Her eyes narrowed. “Particularly not when a tenant wastes all the food in my fridge.”
The Doctor’s face fell. How much did he and Derpy spend that day just to restock the fridge? And Golden Harvest seemed like somewhat of a penny-pincher, so he doubted she’d offer him any sort of discount for lodging.
“I’ll tell you what,” continued the ginger-haired pony. “Since you seem eager to get up and out of here, I’ll charge you a flat 100 bits for last night and we’ll call it even.”
100 bits. That didn’t sound cheap, assuming the coins Derpy had been paying for groceries with were bits… and she hadn’t spent more than five of them on any one item…
“I’m really sorry,” said the Doctor, “but I really just arrived in town last night. I don’t have any money, or really, any sort of employment. If there’s any other way I could repay you, I’d be honored to help, but I can’t contribute anything monetary.”
It was the truth. If he had a working TARDIS, or his sonic screwdriver, he could probably earn plenty of money as a magician or street performer. At the moment, though, all he had was a body he wasn’t completely accustomed to and a barebones understanding of the world he seemed to have gotten stuck in.
Golden Harvest, for her credit, seemed more shocked than angry. “You don’t have anything?” she asked despondently. “This is all wrong. I thought you said you were a doctor!”
“I’m not that sort of doctor,” he replied. “I’m more of… a traveling doctor. I go from place to place, and if someone there has a problem, I do my best to fix it. I do it all on a volunteer basis, and right now I can’t even do that. My mode of transport and all my tools are broken. I have absolutely nothing to work with.”
Golden Harvest looked almost heartbroken. “Well,” she said, “that changes everything.”
The Doctor looked back up at her. “You’re not going to charge me?” he asked hopefully.
“I am absolutely going to charge you,” she countered. “When and only when you are back on your feet and have some way to pay.”
It wasn’t the most generous offer, but it was more than the Doctor expected from a pony who he had previously considered to be greedy and abrasive.
“Until then… you can stay in the guest room. We need to work on getting you a job, and in the meantime you can work on getting your transport and your tools and whatever else fixed.”
“Fantastic!” exclaimed the Doctor, and almost immediately he regretted the enthusiasm in his voice. He could see tears forming in the corners of Golden Harvest’s eyes.
“Once you can pay me back, I expect you to get back on the road and out of my hair,” snapped Golden Harvest. She marched up the stairs, and the Doctor heard a door slam.
“Well, that could have gone better, couldn’t it?” The Doctor stamped his hoof in frustration. “Derpy, I have another question. What exactly is it about that mare that makes you choose to share a home with her?”
Derpy put the last item from her saddlebag into the fridge and shut the door. “I don’t know, Dr. Hooves. She’s usually so nice, but you seem to have put her in a bad mood…”
“Oh, so this is my fault now, is it?” The Doctor stamped his hoof again. “Well lucky me! My first day in town, and I had to choose to stay in a flat with the most temperamental pony in the universe.”
He grabbed a candle in his mouth and pushed open the door. “I’m going out, Derpy,” he said through his gritted teeth. “If Golden Harvest asks where I am, tell her I’m working on getting out of her hair.”
“Doctor, come back!” Derpy rushed over to the door to catch him, but he was already halfway down the block. “It’s scheduled to rain!”
“It’s clear as a bell, Derpy!” the Doctor yelled. “I’ll be back when I’m good and ready!”
He made his way back to the TARDIS, alone once again. The streets were empty, now, despite the beautiful weather. All for the better, he thought to himself as he opened the door of the police box. No witnesses that way. Once he got inside, he spent the better part of an hour trying to light the candle with only hooves. No sooner had it finally lit when he heard a crash of thunder, followed by the pattering sound of a barrage of rain hitting the TARDIS’s outer doors. Derpy had been right about the rain. How had she known? But it didn’t matter now. He was inside, and he had a light, and he could finally work without distractions. And once the TARDIS was fixed, he could finally escape from this universe and get back to Normal Space. Home, or the closest thing he had to a home.
He might have gotten the TARDIS working right then and there, and sailed back to his own universe and no pony would ever know where he had gone. He might have, if he hadn’t been interrupted by a knock at the door.
The Doctor opened the door of the TARDIS to find a tiny orange Pegasus pony standing there, in the rain. Its magenta mane was dripping with rain, but the water streaming down its face was not enough to disguise the tears in its eyes.
“Hey, mister?” It spoke in a girl’s voice, and tried to peek past him into the TARDIS, which was now dimly lit by the flame of a single candle.
The Doctor shifted so as to block her view. “Little girl, what on earth are you doing out here in the rain? You should be at home, with your parents!”
The filly cast her gaze downward. Her silence spoke volumes.
The Doctor groaned. “All right, all right. Innocent child, alone in the rain. It’s almost like someone out there knows my every weakness. Well, come on in. Stay close, and don’t touch anything.”
The Doctor moved aside and let the filly enter. She took a few steps inside, then stopped and looked around. “It’s… it’s bigger. Bigger on the inside.”
The Doctor let out a soft chuckle. “You know, I get that a lot from people,” he said, softly, “but you’re the very first pony I’ve heard that from. Come on, get closer to the fire. You’re soaking wet.” He closed the door again and moved toward the fire himself.
“What’s your name?” asked the Pegasus filly.
“The Doctor,” he said. “Just the Doctor. Dr. Hooves if you prefer. I don’t know anymore. What’s yours?”
The Pegasus pony didn’t say a word.
“Silent treatment, eh? Relax a little, I won’t bite!” The Doctor put his foreleg around the filly, and she smiled a little.
“Why are you out here on your own?” the filly asked him. The Doctor contemplated his answer. He could tell her the whole truth, if he wanted to. She was already inside the TARDIS with him, after all.
“I had been staying with a pony named Carrot Top. No, Golden Harvest. And Derpy Hooves. But I left. Golden Harvest wanted me gone, and it was too hard to keep lying to Derpy. And I had to lie. I couldn’t let them know the truth about me and this box.
“This box. What is it, really?” asked the little filly.
The Doctor sighed. He was tired of lying. And he felt he could trust this innocent little filly, even if he couldn’t trust anyone else. “Spaceship. Time Machine. This box could take you anywhere, and anywhen, you wanted. If—” He paused for dramatic effect. “—it was working.”
He could see the console now. Somewhere inside there would be a piece that was still alive, which he could put some of his own life force into to jump-start the whole ship. He went over to dig out the necessary bit, and spotted a thin metal rod wedged in the open space beneath the console. “Ah-hah! Screwdriver!” He grabbed it in his teeth and it emitted a familiar whirring noise as he dove headfirst into the opening.
“You love it, don’t you?” The voice came from behind him, now, but he was fully engrossed in his work.
“The TARDIS? More than you could imagine!” He chuckled again as he replied. The TARDIS was his favorite thing in all of time and space. He spotted what he was looking for in the faint candlelight. “Here! It! Is!” He pulled the crystalline element out with his hooves, snapping the wires that had held it in place. Perfect.
“I’m going to give it a little bit of juice!” he announced to the filly. A glowing stream of energy emerged from his hooves and fed into the crystal, and he felt a numbness as some of his life left his body. The whole TARDIS groaned as it began to reawaken.
“Did you fix it?” the voice from behind him asked him excitedly.
“More or less! It’ll take about 24 hours for her to start up, but after that she’ll be ready to fly!” The Doctor wheeled around with a satisfied smirk, but the filly wasn’t by the candle anymore.
“Exsssellent,” hissed a voice from the darkness. But it wasn’t the same voice this time. It sounded raspy, and reptilian. The Doctor clutched the sonic in his teeth, as he looked around for the source of the new voice. He couldn’t see the filly he had let into the TARDIS. But the majority of the room was still cloaked in darkness, lit only by the single candle flame. Suddenly there was a flash of green fire, and then the candle went out.
It was late in the evening, and still pouring rain when the Doctor came hobbling back to the house that Derpy and Golden Harvest called home.
When he opened the door, they were both there waiting there for him. Derpy rushed to the Doctor’s side. He looked like he was going to fall over any minute.
“Where were you?” asked Golden Harvest. She had an annoyed look on her face, but she couldn’t mask the concern in her voice. “What happened?”
“I can’t tell you where I was,” the Doctor replied. “Not yet.” If he had to lie to them, he could at least be honest about the lie itself. “What’s important is that I was attacked.”
Derpy gasped. “Attacked? By who?”
“By what would be a more apt question,” said the Doctor, “And I still don’t know. I need intel. Does this town have any sort of library?”
Golden Harvest nodded. “Yeah, we have a free library of sorts. It’s in the big tree in the middle of town. But we should wait until morning. This rainstorm’s scheduled to last all night!”
The Doctor scowled. “If the thing that attacked me is as dangerous as it seemed, it’s absolutely imperative that we deal with it as soon as possible.”
Derpy and Golden Harvest exchanged concerned glances. “Okay, we’ll come,” said the ginger-maned pony.
The Doctor was already out the door. Derpy and Golden Harvest hurried and put on clear ponchos before running out to catch up with him.
When they arrived at the library, someone was already there in the darkened building. A unicorn with a slick purple mane, a gray coat, and an image of a scroll on his flank was reading a book by the flickering light of a candle. The purple-maned pony looked up from his book and grinned. “Carrot Top!” he exclaimed. “And friends! Fancy seeing you here in the library on a stormy night like this!”
The Doctor looked at him quizzically. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”
Golden Harvest narrowed her eyes at the unicorn pony. “Don’t worry,” she said to the Doctor. “You’re not missing much. This is Written Script; amateur playwright and Ponyville’s biggest hipster.”
Written Script’s face fell. “Carrot Top… please!” he whined. “First impressions are important!”
“Well excuuuuuuse me, princess,” Golden Harvest replied. “Heck of a first impression to give by reading a book by candlelight…” She flipped a switch on the wall. “…in a room with working electric lights.”
“…It enhances the mood…” mumbled Written Script.
The Doctor cleared his throat. “Look, this is all nice and all, but we really need to find some information on the monster that attacked me.”
Written Script’s face lit up. “Oooh, a monster? What kind? I’m researching for a new play—a sort of a sci-fi serial, actually.” A violet aura surrounded the book he had been reading as he lifted it into the air with his unicorn magic. The title read 1001 Equestrian Monsters and Bugaboos. “I was just looking for a monster for the heroes to fight—“
“That’ll do!” exclaimed the Doctor. He pushed Written Script aside, and the book fell flat to the floor, open to pages 226 and 227.
The Doctor stared down at the open book. “Well,” he said, “that was almost too easy.”
Derpy and Golden Harvest moved over to where the Doctor was standing, to see what he was referring to. The page had a large illustration of a jet-black creature that looked like some dark hybrid of a pony and some sort of insect. It had large fangs, its eyes glowed blue, and it had holes going straight through each of its legs, like the leaves of a bush infested with caterpillars.
CHANGELING, read the picture caption. This creature disguises itself as a pony in order to feed on the love of their friends and family. It hides its host in a cocoon to so as to maintain its masquerade.
Golden Harvest’s jaw dropped. “That’s what you were attacked by?”
The Doctor nodded. “I think so. It tried to trap me in one of those cocoons as well. I tricked it, though. I switched places with it and it ended up trapped itself.”
“You trapped it?” exclaimed Derpy. “That’s great! We can take the cocoon and send it back where it came from!”
The Doctor grimaced. “I hope it’s still in the cocoon, Derpy. At that point I was just trying to get away from it. It might have worked its way free.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Written Script, rubbing his shoulder with his hoof where the Doctor had pushed him. “Are you all for real? No offense, but this sounds like something I’d write.”
The Doctor glared at him. “Yes, we are definitely for real. This is a real crisis, and unless we do something all of Ponyville could be in danger.
Written Script seemed genuinely scared now. “Well, the book says that they come from the Badlands far to the south of Equestria. I might be able to send it away with a teleport spell! It’ll be hard to send it with much accuracy if it’s so far away... but I can at least make sure it ends up closer to there than it is to here!” He gave the Doctor a nervous grin.
The Doctor gave a loud sigh. “I suppose that’s the best solution we can come up with on short notice. Where are maps and charts kept?”
Written Script looked over at a thick door on the far side of the library. “I think those sorts of documents are kept in storage in the basement.”
“Well.” The Doctor gave him a patronizing smile. “I think you ought to go down there and find some that can give you a sense of exactly how far you have to send it, and in which direction.”
“R-right!” stuttered Written Script as he made his way toward the door. He knew Golden Harvest well, and he knew Derpy was her roommate, but he had absolutely no idea who this chocolate-maned Earth Pony was. All he knew was that that pony was not the kind you wanted to cross.
“Dr. Hooves,” said Golden Harvest as Written Script rushed through the door and down the stairs, “What if the one that ambushed you wasn’t the only one of them?”
The Doctor shook his head. “I’m pretty sure it was,” he said with a hint of sadness. “I’ve dealt with creatures like that before. It seemed… scared. Like it was lost, and just wanted to find a way home. And if there were others, it wouldn’t have—”
He was interrupted by a scream coming from the basement.
The Doctor, Derpy, and Golden Harvest rushed to discover the source of the screaming. As they descended the staircase into the darkened basement, they saw Written Script backed against the wall, illuminated by a greenish glow.
“You could have warned me that it was going to be right here,” stammered the purple-maned stallion. As the Doctor and his companions reached the bottom of the stairs, they turned around and saw the source of the glow. It was a pony-sized emerald green cocoon, nested among stacks of books and documents. The light emitted from it pulsed like a heartbeat, and a tiny silhouette floated in the center of the translucent shell.
“It’s not.” The Doctor stepped over to the cocoon, put his face to it, and peered inside. “One of its victims is.” He bit into the shell of the chrysalis and peeled it open.
A foul odor filled the room, and pus began leaking from the crack in the cocoon’s shell. The Doctor held his breath and plunged his face into the crack. He emerged holding a little Pegasus filly by the nape of her neck. The filly coughed once, then twice, before opening her eyes.
“Thanks a lot, mister…” the filly croaked. “What happened?”
“That’s what we’d like to ask you,” replied the Doctor, gently. “What is your name, little girl?”
“Sc-Scootaloo” said the magenta-maned filly. She was obviously still very scared. “I was making up some late homework here in the library when I… I got bored. I was wondering what was through that door, so I came down here, and… and…”
She was on the verge of tears. The Doctor put his foreleg on her back in a comforting gesture. “Go home, Scootaloo,” he said gently. “You’ll be safe there. The four of us are going to make sure what happened to you never happens again.”
Scootaloo nodded and ran up the stairs and out the door. The Doctor’s expression turned serious as soon as she had gone out the door.
“Right,” he said. “The Changeling was impersonating that little filly before it ambushed me. Written Script, have you found the charts you needed?”
Written Script nodded. This brown pony, whoever he was, was a natural leader in times of crisis. He would have to work a character like that into his play.
“Alright then. I’m going to lead you to where I was ambushed. Derpy? Golden Harvest?” He looked toward the two mares. They had been so generous, and kind to him, but he didn’t want them to get involved in what he was planning. “Wait for me at the house,” he said. “We shouldn’t be long.”
“No way,” said Golden Harvest. “You might need our help, wherever you’re going. We’re coming too.”
The Doctor let out a sigh of exasperation. “Alright. But you’re going to have to follow my instructions.”
The Doctor led his company of ponies to the TARDIS. It was a little bit past midnight now, and the TARDIS was still dark. The thunder had stopped, but the rain continued to pour. “Right. Rule number one. Stay close, and don’t touch anything.”
“But where are you leading us, Dr. Hooves?” Derpy had been quiet for a long time, but it was clear she was confused.
The Doctor pushed the TARDIS’s door open, and motioned with his hoof. “In there.”
“In there?” asked Golden Harvest incredulously. “I doubt even one of us would fit in there, let alone all of us. Is this some kind of a joke?”
The Doctor walked up to Golden Harvest, and looked her straight in the eye. “I don’t joke,” he said, “not when the stakes are this high.”
They all walked through the open door of the TARDIS, led by the Doctor. Each of them hesitated after they had walked about four paces. Derpy was the first one to speak. “It’s… it’s not as small as it looked…”
Suddenly, the door slammed behind them, and they were all swallowed up by the darkness.
“Not traditional, but it’ll do in a pinch,” said a voice from the darkness. It was the Doctor’s voice. But it was not coming from where the Doctor had been standing.
Written Script lit up the room they were standing in with his horn. Sure enough, it was massive compared to the tiny box they had entered. And directly in front of them were two Doctors standing there, facing each other.
“It’s the Changeling!” said the Doctor nearest them. “It’s trying to fool you! Written Script, remember the plan.”
The other Doctor just chuckled. “Changeling, eh? Is that what you things are called?” He walked over to where his mirror self was standing. “And you even came up with a plan! That is just. Too. Cute.”
Written Script looked at the two Doctors. The one who had brought them there was obviously the real one, right? But if that were the case, why didn’t the other one seem scared, or worried?
The first Doctor sneered. “I somehow expected you’d figure out how to escape.”
“You did, did you?” The second Doctor glanced at the other ponies in the room. “Is that why you put together a posse of ponies? Thought my escape would jeopardize the plan?”
The first Doctor looked nervously back at Written Script. “You’ve got to deal with him. Now. We may not get another chance.”
Written Script didn’t move. He didn’t know whom to trust, but he knew that it would cost them all if he made the wrong decision.
The second Doctor laughed again. “You know, I never was much for plans. I prefer to improvise.” He vaulted over a guardrail onto a higher platform.
The first Doctor scowled. “You have to have a plan. You can’t have just sat here and dawdled after you escaped. You’re smarter than that.”
“Are you sure?” The other Doctor walked along a catwalk leading down to the lower level. “I don’t know if I’m all that smart. When you followed me in there, I told you everything. Everything about me, everything about this box… I even told you the names of the friends I had made in this world. And sure enough, you brought them here.”
Carrot Top couldn’t tell what was going on anymore. What did that other Doctor mean about “this world”? What was this mysterious box they were standing in, anyway?
“I told you that!” the first Doctor insisted. He was trying to head his twin off at the end of the catwalk. The other Doctor wasn’t having it. He vaulted clear over his doppelganger, and started advancing. The tables had turned.
“In that case,” said the second Doctor, “there’s a clear way to tell which of us is the real deal, isn’t there?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied the first Doctor. He was retreating, backing up as they circled higher and higher.
If Derpy had any suspicions about either Doctor, she wasn’t showing it. She was concentrating. Each of her eyes focused on a different Doctor, moving independently as the two Doctors performed their elaborate dance.
“Assuming one of us told the other everything they know about these ponies standing here,” said the second Doctor confidently, “It should follow that if there’s something they didn’t tell the other, then only the real Dr. Hooves would know.” The Doctors reached the highest point on the catwalk, and the first Doctor, the one who had led all the other ponies there, jumped down to escape his double.
“So here’s my challenge, Dr. Hooves. You know everyone here, don’t you?” The second Doctor followed his twin off the catwalk and down to the floor below. The Doctors were now facing each other again, on opposite sides of the room. The Doctor who had made the plan, and had led the other ponies there, stood to the right of the company of ponies. To their left stood the other Doctor, the one who had been left behind in the box, although none of the other ponies there were sure yet if that meant he was friend or foe.
“So if you know these other ponies, if you are truly the real Doctor, then you would know something very special about one of these ponies. Derpy Hooves.” He looked over at the grey mare, her eyes fixed on the two ponies who called themselves Dr. Hooves. “The best friend I’ve made in this new world. Tell me, Doctor,” he asked, in a low voice, “What does Derpy’s cutie mark mean?”
“It… it means…” stammered the first Doctor. “It means… that she’s a good flier... but addled. A bit airheaded. Her destiny is to live through the help of others… her friends.”
The second Doctor flashed a nervous grin. Derpy’s eyes narrowed.
“A decent guess,” admitted the second Doctor. “A decent guess for someone who hardly knows her. Not as a friend.” He looked into Derpy’s eyes. “Her cutie mark means she’s resilient. She bounces back from difficulty. She can adapt to whatever role she’s needed in. Whatever happens to her, she keeps a positive attitude." The second Doctor gave Derpy a knowing smile. "Because that’s what her friends need from her.”
Derpy closed her eyes. Tears reflected off the sides of her face as she flapped her wings and slowly hovered over to the Doctor on the left.
“You can’t be serious!” protested the other Doctor, the one who still stood alone. “You can’t—I’m the one who told you about the Changeling! I’m the one who rescued Scootaloo!”
“You knew about the changeling because you were one,” said the Doctor standing with Derpy. “You knew about Scootaloo, which I assume is the name of the little filly you disguised yourself as, because you captured her, just like you tried to do with me. I was stuck here with nothing but my wits, and my memories.” He picked up a short rod in his jaws, and it began to whir and glow. “And my screwdriver.”
The second Doctor—the confident one, now, the one who had gone into this without a plan—looked over at the orange-maned pony. “Golden Harvest,” he said. “I still don’t know exactly what makes you tick. I’ve tried to get to know you, but you’ve shut me out every time we’ve talked. And I don’t know what he’s—“ He motioned toward his double. “—told you. I hope you can trust me.”
Golden Harvest looked around at the jungle of steel and wires they had found themselves in. No one had told her anything about a place like this in the middle of Ponyville. “I’m not sure I can trust either of you right now,” she said. “But I do know I can trust Derpy.” She walked over to her left, joining her friend.
The Doctor who now stood with a pony at each side of him directed his gaze at Written Script. “I’m afraid we haven’t had the pleasure of meeting,” confessed the Doctor.
“It’s no biggie,” said Written Script, sheepishly.
“Do you trust me?” asked the Doctor.
Written Script looked down at the floor. “To be honest, I thought I trusted the other guy. He seemed so confident from the moment I met him, as he outlined his plan, and I just went along with it.” Written Script walked over to where a crowd of ponies now stood in opposition to the Doctor he had met. “But he never asked me what I thought. He never gave me a choice. And because of that, I think I trust you more.”
The Doctor who was now circled by friends advanced toward his doppelganger. “I think this charade is up,” he said. “You’re outnumbered and alone. I know how that feels.” He extended a hoof to the other Doctor. “What do you want to do now?”
The other Doctor shed a single tear, and burst into a column of green flame. When the fire dissipated, there stood a changeling, almost like the one in the book. But this one was smaller. It was almost closer to the size of little Scootaloo than to any of the ponies who now stared at it accusingly. “I jussst want to go home,” it said in a raspy voice.
The Doctor looked toward the windows of the TARDIS. The light from Written Script’s horn was dimmer now than the light that shone in through the windows. It was morning.
“As much as I hate waiting for anything,” said the Doctor, “it’ll be a little bit longer before the TARDIS can take you home. That’s what you wanted it for, wasn’t it?”
The Changeling nodded.
“You know,” said the Doctor, with a friendly smile, “you could have just asked.”
The Doctor sent Derpy out to get breakfast. Even now that they were on friendly terms, he didn’t want to take his eyes off the little Changeling. Don’t want it to get cold feet and try to hide amongst the locals again, he thought to himself. After he had sat there alone for a little while, Golden Harvest sat down next to him.
“So, how are you planning to get the Changeling home?” she asked. “The plan we had come up with involved Written Script teleporting it home.”
The Doctor frowned. “Yes, he told me about that. It’s a bad idea. With how imprecise he made the teleportation spell out to be at those distances, our Changeling could easily end up underground or 500 feet in the air.” He looked up at his surroundings. “It’s easier to just take the TARDIS.”
“What is a Tardis, anyway?” asked Golden Harvest. “I gathered from what you were saying that that’s the name for the box we’re in. But how do we use it to get the Changeling home?”
The Doctor sighed. “Wait and see. It’ll be easier to show off what it can do to all of you than to explain it to you individually.”
“So you’re still not ready to be honest with us, huh?” Golden Harvest glared at him, and it made him feel guilty.
“I’m really sorry. It’ll be ready by this afternoon,” he said. “After that, no more lies. I’m sick of lies.”
Golden Harvest went back over to sit with Written Script after that. She seemed more comfortable with him than she did with the Doctor, even if she did seem to be giving him a hard time. And to his credit, Written Script seemed to have gotten a lot out of this encounter. He had spent most of the time since their confrontation with the Changeling writing furiously in a notebook. He noticed that he held his quill aloft with his unicorn magic. A useful skill to have, to be sure.
He was beginning to worry about Derpy. She had gone for breakfast early in the morning, but now it would be closer to noon, and she still hadn’t gotten back. Perhaps something else had happened, and she had gotten into some kind of trouble, and he wouldn’t be there to help.
He shouldn’t have worried, though. Derpy returned soon afterward with a tray of steaming hot muffins. “Derpy!” exclaimed the Doctor, thankful to see her again. “You shouldn’t have!”
“You made muffins?” asked Golden Harvest, raising an eyebrow at her.
Derpy crossed her forelegs in embarrassment. “Well, the first batch didn’t turn out that great. And neither did the second. And I ate all the muffins in the third batch to make sure they were okay. But they were! And I’m sure these ones are, too!”
Everyone in the room burst out laughing.
“I’m sure they’re fine, Derpy!” said Written Script. “Now give one here! I’m starving!”
The assorted ponies circled around and picked out the muffins they wanted to eat. When they dispersed, the little changeling was the only one left without anything to eat. It looked at the muffins uneasily, then looked up at Derpy. “I’m… sssssorry…” it said, “for what I sssssaid. About you.”
Derpy smiled. “A lot of ponies sometimes say things they don’t mean,” she said, “especially when they’re scared and alone and feel like the world’s out to get them. I forgive you.”
The Changeling was taken aback. “Jussst like that?”
Derpy nodded earnestly. “You didn’t end up hurting anypony in the end, did you?” she asked. “You even freed Scootaloo when you were done pretending to be her. You didn’t have to do that.”
The Changeling’s stomach growled, and it cast its eyes away from Derpy. She picked up a muffin and offered it to the changeling.
“I made these with extra love,” Derpy said with a wink. “Go on, eat up.” For the first time the faintest hint of a smile crossed the Changeling’s face, as it accepted the muffin and walked over to join the others.
Everyone on the TARDIS agreed afterwards that the muffins had been delicious. They were happy now, all of them, even the lonely little changeling who had caused them so much trouble. They had almost forgotten about what they were waiting in there for when the whole TARDIS began to rumble and the lights began to flicker on one by one.
“Fantastic!” exclaimed the Doctor. “Written Script! Give me those charts!”
The purple-maned unicorn handed them over wordlessly, and the Doctor began to rifle through them.
“Ancient… shoddy… Decent, but smudged… Sinusoidal projection, who even uses those?” He finally stopped on one map in particular. “Here! We! Go!”
He moved over to the console with the map he had picked. The other ponies marveled as his hooves flew between the various levers and dials. There was no awkwardness in his motions anymore. Here, he was in his element.
“Okay, I’m going to need you all to hold onto something or someone. I don’t know how well this thing is going to fly in this universe. Is everypony ready?”
The other ponies in the TARDIS nodded. They weren’t all sure what was going on, but they could tell the Doctor did, and they were following his lead, now.
The Doctor turned back toward the console. “All right then!” he said with an enormous smile on his face. He put his hoof on one last lever, the biggest one within reach.
“Giddyup,” he whispered, and he pulled the lever, and they were off.
