His story always begun back at the beginning.
Alone.
Nothing but the soft hum of the Tardis, and the flickering and somewhat dimming glow of the computer screen causing a gentle flicker of light within the Tardis.
He adjusted each control, one after the other, in a perfect motion and without mistake, only to redo it within a few seconds, trying to distract himself from the emptiness which shrouded him. The cool air which brushed about the silent machine.
His fingers clasped into the controls of the Tardis after readjusting it for the third time that minute, his grasp tight enough to cause his knuckles to begin to turn white as his breaths fell short and his eyes lowered themselves to the ground.
Loneliness.
Humans were so advanced. But the few things they couldn't cure were the most important. Death, and Loneliness. Nothing could buy a solution to either. No amount of struggling and fighting could defeat them.
Living forever was nothing, when you had no one to share it with. No one to show the glitter of immortality and take to each and every star in the sky until you'd seen them all more than once, but still had the time to see them again.
His throat tightened and his eyes glanced up quickly as the door swung open.
"Sorry-Mum wouldn't stop talking my ear off," Rose breathed, stumbling into the Tardis and dropping her bag to one side, rubbing her shoulder with a look of complaint across her features before those bright and knowing eyes found his.
"Are you alright?"
A short pause.
"Of course. When am I not, aye?" The Doctor smiled vaguely, "So, where too then?" He grinned, her eyes flashing with excitement and life, just like he yearned for.
"The stars! Everywhere-Anyway," She smiled, leaning over the computer screen.
She would be gone.
There would be a time when he would regret having met the youth named Rose Tyler. There would be a time when his chest would burn just hearing the name. When his throat would tighten, and his eyes would sting. Where he'd beat himself for ever believing something like that could last. But for now, I would hold onto the short glimmer of hope. The brief release of loneliness was just enough for him to hope that perhaps tomorrow would be another day.
"Well, Alons-y! Rose Tyler. And hold on!"