The air was warm—it was the first thing she noticed. Then her eyes took in the huge open field of waving red grasses, edged with silver leafed forests. The sky hung overhead; reddish orange with the glow of sunset on it. A mountain range rimmed the horizon.

Gallifrey. She had never been there, but she knew it from the Doctor's descriptions, and from images the TARDIS had projected on walls in various rooms inside it. But now she felt she was actually there, standing on Gallifrey, feeling its sultry breeze and enjoying its alien familiarity. She stood alone at the edge of the field, allowing its peaceful and serene appearance to permeate her inner being. For a little while, it was nothing more than Clara, the softly fluttering grass, and the warm wind.

Then she saw him.

He was a distance away, but she recognized him immediately, both from the way he walked and from the sudden flash of purple against the orange and red colors she had been viewing. It was the Doctor, the Eleventh incarnation of him, dressed in his signature purple tweed and he was walking towards her.

Clara's heart did a strange little twist, and began to pick up speed. It was her Doctor, it was truly him. He really was here, and he was coming straight to her. The closer he came, the more his features came into focus. Now the brown hair hanging over his broad forehead, now his long face and prominent chin, now his deep set green eyes and faint eyebrows, now his lips, smiling a little. Each detail set her heart beating faster, until she almost felt it would pound right out of her chest.

She had watched him regenerate and disappear out of her life, seemingly forever, and yet, here he was. She could contain herself no longer. She ran to him, and threw herself into his arms. He opened his to receive her, and pulled her close.

"You're here…you're real, and you're alive, and you're here. Truly here." She pressed her face close to his chest, tucking her head below his chin. Her ears picked up the comforting rhythm of his heartbeats, and she smiled. A tear of happiness rolled down her cheek. "I'm so glad you're back."

"Clara," his voice rumbled above her head. He had always said her name so tenderly, as if it was the most precious sound to him in the universe. He stroked her hair with one hand, and kissed the side of her head. "Yes, I'm here. But only in your dream."

Clara's eyes grew round with his words. "I'm…only dreaming this?" She stood back a step and looked up into his face. But instead of sadness, he was still smiling.

"Yes…but don't you remember what Vastra told you once? Time travel is possible in dreams." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I'm from the future. From your future."

She puzzled over his meaning. "I…don't understand."

"I'm visiting you here in your dream from the future. Sometime from now, you will see me again in the real world. Right now you are sleeping in your bed. Right now I am asleep…but I'm in the future. Soon, however, I will join you in your time, in the real world." He cupped his hand around her face. "We will be reunited again."

"How? How can this happen? You're…dead…dead and gone. A new Doctor is in your place…an older man with a Scottish accent. He's off looking for Gallifrey right now. And yet…here we are." She looked at the field they stood in, and then looked once more into his eyes. "How can you…the Eleventh Doctor…come back to me?"

"Trust me when I say it will happen, Clara. I will return," he smiled gently at her, stroking her face. "You will see me again. Soon."

At that moment, the Gallifreyan landscape began to slowly dissolve, and the Doctor himself began to fade from her arms. "No," Clara cried, tears springing into her eyes.

"It's all right. You might forget this dream in the cold morning light, but believe me when I say, Clara, you will see me—this me-again." The last thing she saw was his warm smile, and the final thing she heard him say was, "soon."

Clara Oswald blinked awake in the darkness of early morning. She was surprised to find that even though there were tears in her eyes, as if she'd been crying over something sad, her heart was light, and a kind of anticipation hung over her. Wonder what I was dreaming to produce that odd combination, she mused, and then got up to dress for another day of teaching at Coal Hill School.