AND SHE WAS NOT AN ADVENTURE I FLYNN CARSEN

Here Is Gone

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?"