Not as quickly or cleanly as I'd like them to, Doctor. And not with nearly as much pain as I wish them to.
A weak argument, Doctor. You may not think about what you do, who you save, or where you go; but others do. They see all the angles you work, your favoritism, your callousness and they do nothing but judge. They sit silently and wait for the right moment, the right time to strike you down because you may not believe it...but ohhh, do you deserve it.
Rose. Is gone, won over by a copy of you. A man who wears your face, uses your voice...the two of you never understood what love was. She didn't want you just so long as she could have someone like you.
[He pauses when he feels the other's fingers against him, his body tensing almost immediately, the warning signals going off a bit too late. All he can do is brace himself while the other searches his mind, the blur of memories almost dizzying. It isn't until they reach that day that he can grasp himself once more, but not enough to keep his emotions from welling up once more. The pain twisted in his chest, making him gasp for breath as the guilt came over him, the loneliness...everything. His eyes are still closed when the other opens his own, and it's apparent he doesn't know he's been crying. He jerks away fromt he other almost immediately, wiping at his eyes quickly.]
I've had time to think, Doctor. about everything. Everyone we've met, everyone we've considered a friend...in that time I had nothing I came to realize that I do not belong. I am alone. And trying to save them, trying to befriend them, won't change any of that.