Foreman sat down upon the floor of the TARDIS library, sighing to himself. He wished he didn't have to sit around and wait for something to happen, but he wasn't able to have any control of what was happening. He was only there because he wished to be near Susan as they waited for the TARDIS to land.

Though the only reason he was there was to provide company for Susan as they patiently waited for the time when the TARDIS would groan and sit down at its final destination, Foreman felt as if he didn't necessarily need to be near her at all. If she was lost within the novel she held in her hands, then why did he have to be nearby?

Nevertheless, he was devoted to his daughter entirely and utterly, even if she didn't have any reason to acknowledge his existence for the moment. He would much rather be present and near her at all times than ever do such a thing as desert her. After the hell he'd been through, he wouldn't ever wish to desert Susan. He wouldn't, not even for a moment.

He just wished Susan's favourite place to hang about was the library in the TARDIS. She just about lived in the room. Once, she had suggested that she would try to convince the Doctor to move into the room. She would never have to leave.

Foreman couldn't live in a place with so many books - it seemed ludicrous, but it was the truth. They made him uncomfortable. His heart would be set aflutter like pages blown by a wind, his breathing erratic. But it wasn't because he was afraid of the book, it was because he was afraid of the library part.

He wasn't born with a fear of libraries, and he wouldn't classify himself as having them at the moment anyways. It was because of one particular library, the Library, that he found himself getting worked up and anxious when he was around the large collections of stories.

Foreman had nothing against books. Truly, he couldn't find a reason that would justify the actual fear reaction that took place. He could say one thing for certain, however - it was because a library gave birth to Brook, raised her, and laid her to rest. Her story was created by the libraries, although it had nothing to do with the real books.

When Brook's mother was pregnant, she made it her goal to begin building up a library for her upcoming daughter. She wanted the child to be surrounded by far off places and great adventures when she grew up, knowing that being so young would prevent Brook from being safe if she were to go traveling across the stars. The books would be safer, she decided. Besides, Brook would go off on adventures when she was older.

Then that library began to grow along with Brook. Every time her mother came around, she would add a new book to the collection. Foreman had witnessed the gradual growth of some of the library, and found it fascinating.

He assumed at one point that Brook's father would do the same, but instead he brought verbal stories. It was either that, or he would take them out on a true adventure. Her mother had done that as well.

When Brook spent so much of her time alone, she ended up learning how to read very quickly and began living off of books. Foreman had come in a much later part of her life, but he still saw how she would take a book between her fingers and become completely absorbed. Those books raised her, her library raised her.

But when Brook left, Foreman hadn't seen the connection between this and where she was going. She left to go to the Library, a planet exclusively made for the purpose of being a library. It seemed like it was a dream come true for a girl like her - until he found out that she was planning to die there and be saved to a computer.

This must've been what happened to her - Foreman couldn't ever be sure. She forced him to promise never to pry around the Library before she left. What could Foreman possibly gain by messing around in the graveyard of his wife? He would end up having more dilemmas than he would anything else, more despicable memories to hang on his hearts until time ran itself out.

Nevertheless, the TARDIS library was just that - it was not the Library, despite the many similarities the two shared. Susan wouldn't ever understand what Foreman felt about either of the areas with her current state of mind. All she saw in a library was wonder and awe, innumerable words within innumerable pages within innumerable books for her to explore.

Would Susan feel the same way when she found out about the horrors of the Library? Or would she be like the Doctor, who cast the thoughts away from his mind entirely? It was impossible to tell at the current moment, simply because Susan seemed to be infatuated with books and libraries in general.

The thought of Susan not caring about the intricacies of the situation made Foreman feel as if he could be sick. He wanted Susan to reflect the feelings he had about the current situation and everything which had occurred before. There was no certainty when it came to how she might react, and therefore he simply had to clasp his hands together and hope. She would care and she would feel bad.

"We're about to land," Susan muttered, snapping her book shut.

"What do you mean?" Foreman asked. "How do you know that?"

Before she could give a proper answer, however, the TARDIS began to creak and crack as it made its descent to its landing position. With a smile on her face, she began bounding out of the library, expecting her father to come dashing after her. He did just that, of course, unwilling to be left behind as everything else happened around him.

But as he followed her all the way out of the door, the Doctor trailing behind, he found any excitement which might have entered his heart retreating immediately.

"What are we doing here, Doctor?" Foreman said, his voice coming out as little more than a gasp. "What are we doing here?"

"I didn't try to come here, that much is certain," the Doctor said. "I didn't...I didn't mean for this to happen. I am sorry, Foreman."

"What...what are you two talking about?" Susan asked, her eyes widening.

"Not now, Susan," the Doctor said, taking several steps back towards the TARDIS. There was no reason for them to be in this place. There was no reason for the three of them to be in the Library.

And Susan couldn't understand why either man was so upset or desperate to leave it all behind. It was simply out of her sphere of knowledge. She didn't have the faintest idea that this wasn't her heaven. No, it was hell to her father and mother, in different ways to each of them.

"I don't understand. I don't understand why we're here," Foreman mumbled, sounding as if he might be going mad.

"I have an idea of what might have occurred," the Doctor said. "It is only a theory, yes, but I believe it is as plausible as anything else."

"What is it, Doctor?"

"Well, you were tampering with the TARDIS recently. You were the one who was messing around with everything with one goal in mind."

"Yes, to get to the Songs," Foreman said, shaking his head. "This isn't..."

"Except it is, Foreman," the Doctor corrected. "We are where the Songs are, more or less. This is as close as we can get to the Songs. You understand that, yes? The TARDIS must have listened to you, more or less."

"What do you mean, get to the Songs?" Susan said. "Were the Songs here this entire time, in this library?"

"Not just any library," the Doctor corrected. "The Library. An entire planet dedicated entirely to saving every book from throughout human history."

"The Library," Susan echoed. "If that's why we're here, I don't see why either of you should look so upset. What is the matter with the two of you? What does this place have to do with the Songs?"

Foreman opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Instead, Susan turned around to face him.

"I wanted to help you get to the Songs, but I don't know...how can they be here?" Susan asked.

Why was this happening? Why was the world forcing him to begin speaking about this now? He hadn't been allowed anywhere near enough time to understand everything he wished to say to her, hadn't been allowed a time to think through what words he needed to say.

These were words he felt should be able to simply blossom from his lips as if they'd been held within his heart and soul for ages on end. From the moment that Brook had been torn from him, he should've known exactly how he wanted to tell his daughter about her mother's demise.

But how could he explain such a thing to his bright eyed, ever smiling daughter? How could he dim her light when he could just keep her blinded by it instead?

But, then again, Susan deserved to know.

"The Songs are dead," Foreman said. "Both of them. And they've been dead for ages. It's nothing new. They've been dead for such a long time, Susan. They're both dead, and they're both here."

"What do you mean?" Susan asked. "If they're dead...are they buried here, Foreman?"

"Not buried," Foreman said. "Saved."

"But you just said they were dead-"

"The Library has many physical books, yes," the Doctor said, knowing that he had a responsibility to explain this as well. He'd already handed the main responsibility to Foreman, but he had to ease the blow. "But the books are also contained on a computer, all in electronic copies...a clever idea, yes."

"And..." Foreman said, starting to explain his own part of this but finding that he didn't know enough about the Library to explain it. All he knew about the planet was that it had taken everything away from him, taken Brook's life and her consciousness. It had engulfed River in the same manner, taken her into the computer.

"And that's where the Songs are," the Doctor said. "It's quite an enormous computer, enough to have all the books from throughout mankind's history. Quite enough to save a person, just as if they were a file."

"But how can you save a person on a computer? If they're a person, they can't...they can't be saved on a computer."

"Not a physical person, no," Foreman said. "But you can save consciousness."

"The physical body was destroyed, but one's consciousness was contained for long enough to be saved within the computer. "And that's what happened to River Song. I should know, I carried her consciousness within my own hands and saved her to CAL. To the computer."

"And what about Brook?" Susan said, her eyes widening as she turned to Foreman. "What about her? You must know what happened to her."

"I don't," Foreman admitted, tears leaping to his eyes. "I don't know how it happened. I...I never knew what really happened to her. I just know she died."

"It was the Vashta Nerada," the Doctor said. "Shadow monsters, Brook's least favourite. She was...she was devoured by them within seconds, her consciousness left as a data ghost within a communication device."

"What?" Foreman asked. He'd never known this. Brook had never divulged such information to him, perhaps because she didn't believe he had any reason to know. "What do you mean that she was devoured?"

"I mean precisely what I say. The Vashta Nerada are like piranhas, and they devoured her flesh within moments. She only felt pain for a brief moment. She wandered off alone, and by the time we heard her scream it was too late..."

Susan had placed a hand over her open mouth, caught within such a moment as she stood there. Her pose was a perfect tableau as she stood there, in absolute shock and awe. She might as well have been turned into a statue, never to move from her pose stuck with the Library. Susan would be just another person Foreman lost to the Library.

"Susan, I know it's horrifying, but I need you to say something," Foreman said, feeling as if he might have to start begging her just to find out basic information about what was happening within her head.

"She doesn't have to say anything if she doesn't want to," the Doctor replied. "If she doesn't want to, Susan doesn't have to say a thing."

"But I do want to speak. I...I had no idea. It was all a tragic accident, then," Susan said. "If it wasn't...if it wasn't for the Vashta Nerada, then they'd be here right now. I'd have a mother and a grandmother. And, of course, I...we wouldn't have to try to get the Songs back."

"Get the Songs back," the Doctor scoffed, shaking his head. "I cannot believe that you would think there was any chance you could get the Songs back."

"What are you trying to say, Doctor?" Foreman said, feeling the fumes of fury beginning to pile up within his chest. He didn't know what to do to cease it. "They're practically still alive, which means there must be some way to get them back. There has to be."

"There doesn't necessarily have to be..." Susan added in, although her voice was soft out of fear that she was saying something amiss.

"Saved to CAL is as close to being alive as the Songs can possibly be," the Doctor said. "It is excessively difficult to have them appear in any sort of physical form, especially for an extended amount of time."

"Is that certain, Doctor?" Foreman asked. "Do you know that is most certainly the truth?"

"It is not entirely certain, but I am certain that I know more about the technical side of this than you do," the Doctor replied. "The last time I checked, you chose to flee from this subject should it ever come up in front of you."

"Would the two of you stop fighting?" Susan burst out. "I don't understand why you feel the need to continue fighting right in front of me. This is where my mother and grandmother died. I didn't even know they were dead until several minutes ago. And now you're just fighting..."

Neither Foreman nor the Doctor had a single thing to say. They couldn't possibly reply to such an outcry in their current states. It was almost as if they were being smothered by the atmosphere of the Library.

After all, Foreman couldn't stand to be in a library.