"Do most of them do it in their underthings though? I should think not, but regardless, I am glad you came. Really we might as well create some sort of teleporter between our two locations to keep us continuously free to come and go as we please, and much faster..." Troy said behind his mug, before he returned to his story.
Or was about to, when she hugged him, which surprised him a bit, but not too much as it was Clara. Setting the mug down, he hugged her back and then sat back some to look at her, "Don't worry, I'm fine. No burning sensations, that much I can assure you; it's just, I've seen quite a bit through this Doctor's eyes, some of it comical for it's absurdity, if not for the fact that it is so real and dangerous. But that wasn't even the worst of it..."
The Doctor frowned, "I eventually came to a part of the dream, dreamed of several new faces of mine, but none more startling than a man that shirked the name 'the Doctor', and became a warrior. I fought in wars, and battles, and destroyed whole sections of time and reality... and then..."
and there was suddenly a genuine sadness in Troy; as if, in that moment, he truly did feel what the Doctor felt. And in all honesty? He did, it hit him like a truest of memory and he swallowed, "I destroyed Gallifrey. My home -- his... home world. And it burned, all of it, just burned. And I locked it, in some time lock... or he did. Rather. And I destroyed two entire civilizations. Genocide, on the grandest of scales, all by my hand because it 'had' to be done. My own -- sorry, I keep slipping. His own people. And then he died, and then he was... new again."
He frowned at that moment, before looking to her, "That's when I saw Rose Tyler in my dreams. That's what woke me up."