He is always going, always moving, never stopping, never ceasing.

Ever.

He never stops talking or moving or running for a single moment because if he did, he would start thinking. He would remember.

And then you could see the fire in his eyes.

Buried deep in his soul and rising in his timeless, ancient, incredibly, unbearably, sad eyes. He knows all of space and time and life and death, always death and loss and pain and grief.

Because some leave him. Some get left behind. Some forget him. And some- not many, but some- die. But he takes his grief and buries it deep within his heart, locking it away and hiding the key in babbling and rambling and adventures and new people.

And no one is allowed to see that. The fire raging in his endless eyes. No one saw the two lone tears spill from his tortured eyes and make their way down his cheeks.

Rose.

The only word that could unlock the prison in his heart and force the emotion and the fire up into his eyes from the depths of his soul. And then you can see, for a fleeting second. You can see him.

And you can fear him. Fear the wrath of the Time Lord.

The Destroyer of Worlds.

The Oncoming Storm.

He is the last Child of Time. He is the Doctor with fire in his eyes.