I do not own Doctor Who, nor Megamind.
He felt, of all things, woozy. Not dizzy, not fogged, but woozy. Now, how that was different from anything else he honestly couldn't say. But woozy it was, and woozy it shall remain. Actually, no, it shouldn't remain, because that would severely ruin his quality of life, and it was such a long life that being woozy for so long would be a horrible thing. So, how to get out of being woozy? Well, opening the eyes would be a good start.
The Doctor did just that. And he didn't much like what he saw. He had traveled the universe, seen hundreds of thousands of different planets, seen every time period any group of people had ever had. But one thing was universal; a blank cold looking grey ceiling was never a good sign.
"Get up you lout." A metallic TWANG rang through the air following the words, much like something hollow and metal hitting something solid and metal. Also never a good sound.
"Ahhhh shutit." A different voice, clearly making fun of the first one. A grunt, a growl, and then stomping feet that faded away. Now, onto more pressing matters. Such as, why did he feel woozy? Not much could make a Time Lord feel woozy. When had he been? It had been an Earth, probably about four thousand fifteen? Sure, that sounds about right? Donna had wanted to have fun with the fashions of the future, who was he to deny her? Donna was all about having fun.
He sniffed the air, licking his lips, trying to judge where on Earth he was. The air was wet, but it was a secondary wet, like it had gone through a ventilation system that took the water out of the air only to put it back moments later. Artificial humidity, for already humid air? Okay, that REALLY didn't narrow it down. If he knew exactly when and where he could get an idea of what knocked him out.
"You should get up. The ape will only be gone for so long." There was that second voice. Different, now, higher, and not totally human. Okay, assess that. Where was he? He was in something grey, cold, and climate controlled. On a cot. This was a cot, and there was not a pillow beneath his head. That, again, was never a good sign. "It really is getting close to feeding time, and I am NOT getting your portion for you." Feeding time?
The Doctor turned his head, finally looking at whomever was speaking to him. It was an alien, just as he was an alien, only with some very obvious differences. Like how skinny he was, how large his head was, and how utterly blue. Thin mouth pulled into a scowl, the blue person has his lanky arms crossed before his extremely thin chest, green eyes sizing up The Doctor.
Fascinating. A few years ago The Doctor might have called him fantastic. And a few years from now, maybe interesting. But right now, he was fascinating. It was something he had picked up from Donna, who kept cajoling him to tap into the TARDIS and watch video clips about a fake alien named Spock. Along with cats, lots and lots of cats, something he wasn't exactly thrilled about.
"Who are you?"
This was going nowhere fast. Sitting up, The Doctor held his head for a moment before blinking his woozy eyes clear and taking in the other person again. Thin face, thin body, blue, very large bulbous head. He knew those stats somewhere, didn't he?
"You first." Oooh, such a witty comeback there Doctor! His head really was in pain if that was all he could come up with. Such a clever being…
"My name-plate calls me Megamind. Humans are SO original. 'Gee, his head is really big! His mind must be mega huge! That's what we'll call him, Megamind!' Sometimes I wonder if they ever become tired of fooling themselves." That sounded slightly familiar. Like he had heard it somewhere before. "Your turn."
"Another super original name. 'Gee, lookit me, flying around time and space correcting wrong doings! I'll fix it like a doctor fixes people!' And to think you believe yourself clever, Gods save us all." Ouch.
"GET UP!" The first voice was back, and The Doctor's head whipped around to see who was making such a racket. It was a human, a big human, but a human none-the-less. He looked like someone that had dealings with an American football team; all muscle and no brains. Probably wore cheese on his head on his days off. Doctor stood, as did Megamind. Only then did he feel the difference of what he was wearing. A flabbergasted glance down told him that his dashing brown suit and coat were missing, along with his snazzy trainers. In their place were socks of an off-white, almost tan color, and what could only be called "scrubs" of the same. Megamind sighed, and put his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers together. The Doctor copied him.
With a grunt, the linebacker-built man (who was dressed FAR better than those inside the cell) unlocked the human-made iron bars and entered, thick metal stick at the ready should either of them decide to fight him. They didn't, and he promptly locked shackles onto both of their wrists before pushing them out the door. The Doctor watched as several other cells were being emptied, their prisoners dressed and treated much like himself. And not one of them were human. Every single prisoner was an "alien" of some sort; blue, black, red, yellow, green, even one of them was nothing more than a clear blob with some sort of ball around it that was being lead by four armed humans.
"Where am I?" The Doctor mumbled, before getting smacked very hard in the shoulder with the metal baton.
Megamind dropped half a step back in the line, staying ahead of The Doctor by about a step or two.
"Don't speak. Don't look anywhere but your feet. Keep your hands apart, so they can see the chains at all times. And for Gods' sake, do NOT give them a reason to use those sticks!" He hissed quickly, before catching up to his place in line. The Doctor did as he was told, though his eyes raced everywhere, watching everyone and everything. Where was Donna? Where was the TARDIS? What could have knocked him out?
The prisoners went from individual cell lines into two evenly spaced lines, which were taken through a grey and glass made "atrium" (for lack of a better word, it didn't look like any prison he'd stepped foot in now that he was outside of the cell) and up a slight incline. There they were lead through doors, where his line was promptly removed of all clothing and made to step on a conveyer belt that took them through jets of scalding water and soap. Then through freezing cold air being blasted at them to dry them, and as they stepped off the belt they were given clothes again. He had to admit, trying to undress and then redress with your hands cuffed was rather difficult. Watching his cellmate, The Doctor soon figured out how it had been taken off in the first place; a series of buttons on the sleeves made it so the shirt could be draped over the back, tied in the front, then fastened without ever having to have your hands go through the cloth.
The two lines joined again, the other line was dry and now were clothed in blue while his hair was still wet. How..? Ah, there was the ball again. Must be the prisoners that couldn't or didn't need to be cleaned. That was kind of nice of them. Now the two lines were merging into one, being forced through yet another door. This was a cafeteria! Copying Megamind, the Doctor picked up a cardboard tray, and was fed through the food line much like an assembly line in a factory. Not entirely sure what was plopped into the tray, he grabbed a Dixy cup of water from the end of the counter before following Megamind like a hawk and sitting beside him at the long plastic tables.
"Where am I?"
"SHHH!" The blue alien didn't look up, nor did he seem to want to talk to his new roommate.
"It's just a ques-"
"SHUT UP IN THERE!" The guard from before was shouting again, and The Doctor watched as every single prisoner hunkered down closer to their food. The place was quite, save for the shuffling of feet or the clack of the serving employees. Dipping his fingers into the grey goo (they hadn't been given any utensils, and everyone else was doing the same) The Doctor took one lick, spat it back onto the tray, and sat quietly for the rest of the meal. Megamind noticed he hadn't eaten, gave him a questioning look to which The Doctor nodded, and grabbed the tray. The blue one had eaten both trays before a whistle blew. The prisoners stood, Megamind shoving one of the empty trays back in front of the doctor quickly as the man stood, and the tables were formed back into lines and taken through a door.
Bright sunlight hit his still slightly woozy eyes, making The Doctor raise a hand to cover them. They were promptly hit with the metal baton, making his whole arm sting and making him close his eyes rather than watch where he was going. Where was he? Rough hands grabbed his shoulders and forced him into the shade, where he again could open his eyes just before he was pushed through a door that was swiftly slammed behind him.
Megamind was standing before him, filling his vision. The man turned, giving The Doctor a rather sad shrug.
"Welcome to The Zoo, Time Lord."