"It's not like that," the Doctor spoke with confidence. "They will happen. They're fixed points in time. I checked. Every single one. It's not hypothetical. The memories have merged with me. Somehow I've been advanced in time, though..." he pulled away and held out both his hands to look at them, expecting to see them glowing, "...I'm not regenerating now."
His arms dropped to his side, defeated. "I've lived too long. I've seen too much. I've done things I'm ashamed to think about, much less admit. Is it too much to ask for it to stop?"
He then turned his head, staring out into the distance. "But then there's them." He referred to his companions. "The need me."