A/N: So, I had gotten ill, and had gotten writer's block... So, while I was sick, I became re-obsessed with my roleplay Twitter account, again. Today, quite a few people (not all Doctor Who, which was quite interesting, reading some others) had written solo RP thingies. So, I had gotten inspired to write my own. I was RPing the Tenth Doctor, so this is all from his third point of view. I thought this would be much longer, but oh well, it's still rubbish. Anyways, I'll shut up now, and allow you to read...

The Doctor wasn't a huge fan of traveling alone, but sometimes, he felt as if he needed to, simply because he didn't want to put humans in danger. He had practically killed Rose, pushed Martha away, and lost Donna. Each companion of his he had lost, it broke a piece of both his hearts. Sometimes, he felt as though he was making a mistake, bringing a human along with him in the TARDIS. But other times, it felt perfect - having a friend, and not having to think about killing his whole race and that he was the only Time Lord left. But other times, he felt terrible. Sometimes, his companions' fates are crystal clear from the start. It just wasn't /fair/. He never asked for this. He never asked for any of this. Was it such a crime to want to travel within all of time and space without any deaths?

Unfortunately, that was too much to ask for. And he hated that. He /hated/ seeing so many people die every day. And even in the rare cases where everybody lives, that doesn't last for long. The very next day, boom, it goes back to the hearts-breaking deaths and endings. The Doctor was beginning to despise endings. They were just so... end-y. He much rather liked beginnings. Beginnings were always fresh and new and... different. He was surely going to hate when he had his own ending coming up.

But why? Why must all this happen? Because the universe was an egg, of course. The universe /never/ listened, and it downright frustrated the Doctor. He didn't want to lose anyone, ever again. Sometimes, he just wanted to curl up in his room in the TARDIS underneath piles of blankets and sleep until it was impossible to sleep any longer. Time Lords didn't sleep as much as other species did, anyway, which made it much harder. Sleep allows you to dream, and the Doctor rarely ever dreamed. He had enough excitement when he was awake.

But as much as the Doctor loved excitement, sometimes, it got too much. Just because he was a Time Lord didn't mean he needed a break from all once in a while. He really /did/ sometimes need a break. Every single time he allowed another person to die, it always reminded him of the time he performed genocide on thousands of other Time Lords. It wasn't fair. Nothing was ever fair. He had lost /so/ many people he had loved, and here he is, still losing more and more people.

Sometimes, he could kick himself for being such an ignorant egg for bringing more humans into the TARDIS. But they kept him... in place. If he was too alone, he didn't know what he would do. He had already lost so much mercy in only a small time limit. He could remember when he had first met the amazing Donna Noble. She made him stop flooding the star. If she wasn't there, he didn't know what would have happened. He may have even died...

Though, he really should be happy that he had his companions when he did. Sarah-Jane Smith had once said that he had always seemed so lonely, but underneath it all, he had such a big family. He supposed she was write. But Sarah-Jane didn't know what if felt like to have the weight of not being able to save everyone on her shoulders. Sarah-Jane wasn't the only human left, either.

True, the Master had come back, at one point. But that was still terrible - he had allowed the Master to die. It just wasn't /fair/! Had he done something to deserve all this? But he had to keep on smiling, of course. He hated others seeing him in pain. He had hurt so many people, he didn't know what kept him going. If there was something he could do to make up for all the people he had allowed to die...

Most people didn't know the Doctor that well to know what he was /truly/ thinking. Most people didn't know that deep down, both of his hearts were broken. But he just kept on, persevering, because he knew that somewhere out there, someone needed his help.

Donna probably knew him at his best. She realized that even though he said he was fine, he really wasn't.

"How about you, are you all right?" Donna had asked.

"Oh, I'm always all right," the Doctor had lied.

"Is, 'all right,' special Time Lord code for... not really all right, at all?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm all right, too."

That was when he realized Donna knew what he meant. But no one before her had ever gotten that. There were times the Doctor just wanted to yell, "LOOK AT ME. I'M A LONELY MAN," to the universe. But he doubted anyone would listen, nor care. He was the Oncoming Storm, yes, but he sometimes didn't feel like it. He always thought that the Oncoming Storm was supposed to always be tough and break through bad moments. If that was the case, he wasn't /really/ the Oncoming Storm. He could always pretend, yes, but that was about it.

It was getting tiring. Very tiring. He was sure he couldn't keep the act up for much longer. It was the /worst/ having to hide who you truly were inside, all the time. /No one/ had to carry the amount of pain he did, and he was glad no one else did. But sometimes, he needed someone who understood him, who knew what he was feeling.

The short time the Master had come back, he sort of felt that. If it wasn't for the Master being evil. But then he had died, and Martha had left him, and it felt as if nothing could go right, again.

Nothing was ever fair. The Doctor knew that. However, he didn't know /why/. He figured the universe was the universe, and the universe had a mind of its own. He didn't like that. The universe was a rubbish egg sometimes, and at times, he felt like blowing up the universe. Except that would send everything into mayhem, so he'd rather not do that...

He didn't know what the bloody hell he would do in the future, or what he wouldn't do. He didn't know who he would meet, what was in store for him, what would happen to him, or whether he would regenerate anytime soon. He /did/ know that he would have to continue on, going through with all of it. He hoped - just once - that the universe would listen, and take all the pain away. He was sure that wouldn't happen, though.

For now, he would just have to stay the man he was today.