Here Is Gone

You and I got something
But it's all and then it's nothing to me
And I got my defences
When it comes through your intentions for me
And we wake up in the breakdown
With the things we never thought we could be...

Clara perched on the edge of Flynn's desk, ignoring its protests. A strange sense of nostalgia descended upon her, as though she was remembering something from centuries ago, instead of a few days, death dividing her from everything she had ever known. She smoothed down the folds of her dress, the still silence of the Annex surrounding her, almost allowing the illusion the Library wasn't lost, but still here, her home.

Flynn slung the satchel strap over his chest, before making his way over to the bookshelves, roughly pulling out volume after volume, their spines squawking in outrage. Despite his ever increasing doubts over sending Clara and the others away, there was now nothing else he could do but that. The Library was lost, leaving only the Annex behind, a contradiction and conundrum all rolled into one. And now here he was, packing up what was left of his life. Apart from making sure Clara had a roof over her head and a job to go back to, he didn't know what to do next, or what he could do since he'd long learned Flynn Carsen and the mundane just didn't mix.

"The Library's really gone, then?" Clara asked quietly, making Flynn glance up at her.

He hesitated before answering. "It is, and then it isn't," he said, making her brow furrow, "the Library's gone but the Annex is still here. The two of them are separate but connected - and don't ask me to explain how. For once, I am a fool."

"What exactly is the Annex anyways?" Clara said, standing up. "What's the point of it? If the Library's gone, why does it still exist?"

"It was how the Main Library accessed information," Flynn explained, "but now, we can only access the card-catalogues and records, as well as the books and manuscripts. As for the artefacts, they're lost along with the rest of the Library."

"What about Jenkins?" Clara pressed. "Can't he do anything?"

"He said he's tried," Flynn said tiredly, "but there's nothing he can do. The Library's gone rogue, becoming adrift in time and space."

"It sounds like a plot bunny plundered from Steven Moffat's imagination," Clara said, rolling her eyes.

"None of that matters," Flynn snapped, shoving a statue of Bast into his satchel. "It's all gone, whoomph, puff of smoke time."

"What about you though?" Clara said, coming over to him. "Where will you go? What will you do?"

"I don't know," Flynn said, shrugging his shoulder. "Flip a burger or forty? Found an empire online? Who knows and who cares?"

"I care."

Flynn stared at her. "You said you didn't," he said, buckling his satchel shut.

"I was lying, lashing out," Clara said, unable to meet his eyes. "I do care, Flynn. I might not act like I do, but I do."

"It sounds like a song," Flynn said, frowning, "like a mash up of Mary Poppins and Celine Dion."

"You've not answered my question."

"There's nothing to answer."

This time Clara stared at him. "You know what?" she said, folding her arms across her chest. "It just looks to me like you're giving up."

"I'm not giving up," Flynn protested. "I'm just... going away."

"But why?" Clara argued. "Alright, the Library's gone, but the Annex is still here. You might not have artefacts, but you still have information. Knowledge is power, remember?"

"I couldn't have put it better myself," a familiar voice said from a nearby mirror, making Flynn's head jerk up, Clara's eyes widening in disbelief. "Hello Hartley," Judson said jovially, sweeping her an ironic bow. "But farewell Flynn," he continued, "I enjoyed your elbow-patches." He made to fade, only for Clara to shriek STOP! "I'm only joshing," Judson said, bringing his body back into being, his eyes twinkling in amusement, Clara exhaling sharply in relief, shaking her head at him.

"Ha!" Flynn boomed, rushing the mirror. "Ha!"

"Ha indeed, my boy," Judson boomed back. "How is that talking kilt of yours?"

"A veritable chatterbox," Flynn grinned.

"You disappear like that again," Clara said, coming over, "I'll break that mirror, seven years bad luck be damned. Savvy?"

"Savvy," Judson said solemnly.

"So what brings you to this neck of woods, then?" Flynn then asked, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

"The Library's intact," Judson said, no standing on ceremony.

Flynn exhaled sharply, his shoulders slumping in relief. "Charlene?" he demanded, grabbing Clara's hand, almost on reflex.

"She's with the Library," Judson replied. "She's stronger than she looks."

"Are you alright?" Clara asked, worried.

"My... my time is done," Judson said uneasily.

"You're ready to move on?" Clara said, exchanging a confused glance with Flynn, imagining white lights and heavenly realms.

"No, you're ready to move on," Judson said formally, folding his hands behind him. "You and Flynn both."

Clara just stared at him, bewildered, but Flynn swallowed hard, understanding when she didn't. He let go of her hand, stepping forwards instead, the tears welling up in his eyes, his chin trembling. "You know," he said, voice cracking, "I never had a... father" -

- "And I never had a son," Judson said almost abruptly, his own voice cracking, belying his bluntness. They stared at one another, and then Flynn smiled, his eyes crinkling up in the corners again, their silence saying what words couldn't. "Well, now we're both liars," Judson said suddenly, startling Clara, only for Flynn to halt the rest of his speech with his hand.

"Never mind that, you sentimental old fool, I'm off to find the Library," Flynn said in a wild rush. "I am a Librarian, after all." But as he said this, his eyes met Clara's, something passing between them, drawing them together again.

"Nothing's impossible," Clara said quietly, a small smile tugging on her lips.

"So says my impossible girl," Flynn parried, raising an ironic eyebrow.

"Oh, get a TARDIS," Judson said, flapping a spectral hand at them.

"On this budget and in this outfit?" Flynn said. "No way, Nietzsche."

"So we'll steal a spaceship, then," Clara retorted, "or it'll steal us."

"This is all hypothetical, by the way," Judson said, looking at her like she was mad. "Isn't it?"

There was an awkward silence, until Flynn cleared his throat, tugging at his tie at the same time.

"So the Serpent Brotherhood," Flynn said pompously, concealing his unease with ceremony, "what's the sad score with them?"

"They failed," Judson said slowly, "but they released an enormous amount of magic into the world. You're in charge now, Flynn, but you're not going to have time to search for the Library."

"I said I was a Librarian," Flynn said, spreading his hands out in front of him, "but I didn't say I was the only one."

Clara stared at him, only for the penny to drop.

"Oh, you're only getting it now?" Flynn said, brow furrowing. "I thought you knew. Like nine speeches back."

"What, the epic 'I am a Librarian, after all' bit?" Clara guessed, brow furrowing as well.

"I was trying for two-edged," Flynn pointed out. "Obviously I failed."

Judson cleared his throat pointedly.

"Cough lozenge?" Clara offered sarcastically.

"No, thank you," Judson replied, unperturbed. "Death's a bit dusty. They don't tell you that down at the funeral parlour. It's all embalming and emery boards."

"Thank you for that," Clara said coldly. "Anyways, what were we talking about again?" She turned to Flynn for help, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Clara died," Flynn said in an aside to Judson, deciding to skip the Guinevere part, "but she's okay now."

Judson just nodded judicially. "Life suits you," he complimented Clara. "It brings out your eyes."

"That's lovely, but can we please drop the subject, now?" Clare said impatiently, having had enough of death to last a life-time.

"As long as you don't drop the casket," Judson joked, metaphorically elbowing Flynn in the side.

"Oh, you old coffin-dodger," Flynn said, nudging Clara in the side.

"That cravat looks most suitable for strangling someone with," Clara said, looking pointedly at Flynn's throat.

"You're in charge, Flynn," Judson cut across them both. "You're the Librarian."

Flynn stared at Judson, wrongfooted, only to whirl around as Eve strutted into the Annex, her heels clicking across the floorboards.

"Eve," he said, inclining his head.

"Flynn," she said just as formally, nodding at Clara, who nodded back.

"They're gone?" Flynn asked, twisting his hands in front of him.

"They're going," Eve corrected him.

Flynn glanced at the now empty mirror. "I'm in charge," he said slowly, "I'm the Librarian." Without warning, he suddenly took off, Eve hurrying after him, leaving Clara in the now empty Annex. She glanced at the mirror, only to see Judson, his eyes meeting hers. He jerked his head at the doorway, his eyes twinkling again, Clara smiling, before following in Flynn's footsteps.