"Of course you can talk, talk all you want. Talk, talk, talk," Troy gave her a look of disbelief; as if he were unaware of how much he talked, and how much that didn't allow her to get a word in edge wise. Staring back at her, as she went into her list, he furrowed his brows and shook his head at the idea that he wasn't supposed to do anything about the cloud hanging over Orange County, "No such thing as destiny, they might not have the means to stop it here."
Still he listened further and then just raised a brow, frowning at what she was saying and the sudden distance she had not looking at him. He cleared his throat and shrugged, "Well, I'd stop them of course. I'd try to point out the error of their ways, I'd step in front of them and make sure they understood that path is a dangerous one; then I'd tell them how destiny, fate, all of that isn't real. It's all in us to make our own choices. Prophecies come from bleed through of time, little glimpses of the future because time's always moving and is so big, and so powerful, one universe can't even hold it all. But no future is a set point; there are points that are meant to be set points, but even they can be altered, and that becomes dangerous."
Rubbing hands together then he leaned forward and frowned, turning up a brow, "Why? Why do you ask? What happened to you? It was someone, wasn't it, someone hurt you. Who hurt you Clara, who was it?" Troy already had that anger in his eyes that made the age of the Doctor really show; the hidden rage behind a childlike demeanor.