"Maybe we have." The Doctor shrugged. "Maybe I don't care. Maybe we're all of us insane, and it's just how much and the method to it." He sighed. "I'm well over a thousand, I'm a double genocide, I've seen the end of the damned universe, and I'm just bloody tired of it all. Trying to save it, trying to be the hero. I just want a moment of peace and quiet, and if I have to piss him the hell off to get it, I'll piss him the hell off, and let him go blow up a planet, a star, kill Jack, I don't bloody care what he does."
He took a deep breath, stopping in the middle of the street. "All that's left for him, for me, is each other, and the game we've always played. Maybe I'll end it this time, maybe he will. Maybe we'll keep on playing. Whatever happens, I really shouldn't feel the need to stand here justifying myself to a former regeneration of myself who isn't even from my own reality."