Tripleish drabble? :)
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not yet own any of the Doctors...
It's all a game to him. A wonderful, beautiful, thrilling game of Life.
He's never quite sure of all the rules, but that doesn't bother him. If he knew the rules he would rely on them, and one thing that never fails is that someone is guaranteed to change them halfway through, just past his point of no return.
It's all a game, but the pieces are real people and when you lose you don't just die, you drag everyone you care about down with you.
The stakes make it thrilling. He won't admit it, not even to himself, but somewhere deep under his dark side he blossoms at the sight of the blood and the sound of screaming.
He's a gameplayer at his core, an exhibitionist, hell-bent on the performance of a lifetime. It's not enough to win, no; he's already won a hundred times over. It has to be a challenge, it has to be thrill.
He hates this side of himself even as he feeds it. The wars he fights are bad enough on their people without him toying with their fates. The Lonely Angel, they call him. The Lonely God.
He hates the titles. They scratch insistently at his self-control: The Oncoming Storm, Bringer of Darkness and Destroyer of Worlds. Each one seems worded to slice apart a calculated portion of his inner self. Soon, there will be nothing left but bloody ribbon. Time's Champion. The Dark Lord, reduced to incomprehensible insanity. Then he will be a god and he will slice the world to fit his fancy.
On second thought, it's nothing like a game at all.