Well, Clara had been sleeping. There was always the part of her that wondered when the dreams would start up again but she also couldn't hide from the dreams. She knew how well that would end. With school coming to an end, and grading papers for the end of term and then going back to London with John and getting away from all the complicated feelings and avoiding. But then Troy was in her room and worried she was dead initially. Blearily, she sat up and rubbed her eyes.
"Troy?"
Yes, she was half asleep but the fact he called her his impossible girl did seem to make her wake up more. Especially once he was standing back and pointing at her, rambling about everything that had happened. Oh. So he was at that point. Awkward. Right now it was just..trying to follow along with what he was saying. What are you? A trick?! She vaguely heard that in his words as he sorted through everything he had dreamed. She had told him he'd understand soon enough, first about her fear of being a Dalek, and then when she told him he'd saved her. There was only so much she could say at those times and then she never talked about unless it seemed to come up in conversation with someone else by line of topic or trying to get someone to realise they could talk to her.
"You were dying. Of course I would do whatever I could to save you."
With a sigh, she did nod though. She would owe him Jammie Dodgers. Really though, there hadn't been any other choice. Not with the Great Intelligence going into his Time Stream first. Not with it killing him over and over and over again. So she had made the choice, because she had already made it. The girl in the Dalek Asylum. The governess. All those lives and deaths. The weeks of dying and living and terror.
Reaching out, she cupped his face in her hand, so similar to the dreams, so intricately them.
"I have no plans of drying in front of you. Promise."
Of course, plans on dying and actually dying because of circumstances out of her control? Well, that was something else entirely.