Oh hell (Doctor)
Cavan woke up in a place that he didn't know. That would have been bad enough by itself. But to top things off in a completely fucked up way, everything around him looked like it was off the set of some scifi movie. He didn't know a whole lot of pop culture, but he knew enough to think this wasn't the best place to be.
He had no idea how he'd gotten there. He had no memory of leaving his hotel in York. He didn't think he'd been drugged, since he hadn't accepted drinks from strangers aside from Dean, and Dean seemed like the kind of guy who didn't poison his own flask just for the giggles of seeing somebody else taken down. Nothing on him hurt, so he didn't think that he'd been manhandled and knocked out.
The fact that he was on the floor didn't really make him feel any better.
Getting up slowly, to make sure that he really was unhurt and to also not call attention to himself before he could assess the situation, Cavan looked around. There didn't seem to be another soul with him, though the blue glowey thing at the middle didn't inspire within him any confidence.
Cavan spotted the door and went for it quickly but quietly. It opened for him with no effort and he spilled out, grateful.
That he was in a living room struck him as odd. The living room itself didn't seem to be half the size of the interior of the thing he'd just been in. That wasn't possible just by the laws of physics. Cavan glanced about, then moved away from the door he'd just left and turned to see what he'd come out of.
There stood the blue call box he'd seen with Dean in York.