CHAPTER 1
Twenty-one year old Toby Williams sat in the corner of his cell on the bare mattress that made up his bunk, back pressed against the hard stone wall. When he'd first been placed in his comfy new home just last night, several of the other inmates from neighboring cells, all of them looking to be at least 10 years older than Toby himself, kept asking what a young guy like Toby was doing in a place like this. Contrary to all of the movies he'd seen, many of the men and women there, at least the ones Toby could see, didn't look overly aggressive or menacing. Just a motley assortment of folks with anger or drinking problems. Despite this, at their questions, Toby simply stared long and hard at them in silence until they finally turned away and left him to his brooding.
Toby hadn't slept all night. He hardly ever slept anymore. Oh, there were a few hours of shut eye here and there so that he wouldn't pass out, but even those few hours were fitful and filled with nightmares, so he did with as little sleep as he possibly could. His father had no idea he was here, and nor did anyone else for that matter, since Toby had refused the offer to make a phone call. So, Toby was not expecting anyone to come and bail him out. And he'd stayed up all night, staring out of the barred window to his cell, watching the stars converse with each other in their secret language of twinkling and winking that no one but them could understand. It had made him sad and happy all at the same time, watching them, reciting the stories that the ancients before them had believed. He'd found himself crying silently most of the night, as he usually did when he was in jail and/or thinking about Sarah. He missed her so much...
Despite the age difference between the two of them, they'd always been close. She spent as much time with him as possible, hardly ever dating or going out with friends, holding him when he was little until one of them fell asleep. Even when she went off to college, she'd sent him emails every day and called him every week. And when she started working, she still came over often for dinner and would check him out of school a couple hours early just to take him out to lunch or an arcade or just a drive or something. And he loved her and he loved hanging out with her. It always seemed as if she were... afraid he'd disappear or something if she let him out of her sight. And Toby didn't mind one bit.
Until she checked him out early from school about 6 years ago, when he was first learning how to drive, and she insisted he drive to the mall. Toby was nervous, but excited, and happily got into the driver's side as Sarah got into the passenger's seat. Toby started the car and drove out of the parking lot of the school and out onto the street. Things went smoothly for the first few minutes, but when Toby turned onto the highway... that's when things went all to hell. A sleek, black Cadillac coming from the other direction had suddenly swerved into their lane, and everything seemed a blur after that. Sarah screaming Toby's name. Toby jerking the wheel to the left wildly. Spinning. The passenger side of the car getting slammed by an eighteen wheeler. Stumbling out of the car through the broken window in his door, with a dislocated shoulder and freely bleeding nose. Watching the car and truck catch fire. Screaming Sarah's name at the unconscious figure in the passenger seat. People holding him back from rushing to the burning vehicle. The fire reaching the fuel tank of the car and exploding, and the truck following shortly after. Screaming and crying until he was hoarse...
Toby gasped and opened his mismatched eyes in surprise toward the cell door, where a guard was jangling a key in a lock.
"Hey, Williams.", the guard said in a friendly voice. The 40-year-old guy, Al, knew Toby well and knew he wasn't a bad kid at heart, just... an extremely sad and confused individual without a clue how to deal with it besides acting out. "You got a visitor." The surprise Toby felt must've shown on his face because Al smiled kindly and said, "He said he thought you might be surprised to hear that. C'mon."
Toby stood numbly, unfeeling as he walked forward. He wasn't surprised when Al didn't bother with the handcuffs. Toby was not a hardened criminal by any stretch of the imagination, and Al knew those shiny bracelets weren't needed. Toby allowed Al to guide him along while Toby sunk back into his depressing thoughts...
Most times, Toby thought what he'd seen seconds before the crash was only a figment of his panicking imagination, but during times like this, when he really found himself in a deep, dark depression, there was a little voice in the back of his head that said What if it was real? Toby tried to forget it, tried to push it from his mind, and had successfully blocked it from his memory for the most part. But his defenses were weakened when he was this depressed and guilty and sad and angry, and sometimes, it managed to resurface.
Before it could, however, they came to the room where inmates were sitting across from friends or family members or lawyers, separated from each other by a thick, bullet and sound proof pane of glass, and their only way to communicate was a phone built into the wall.
Al gestured to one of the empty ones and said, "Right over there, kiddo. I'll come and get you when your times up." Toby nodded silently, and Al went to stand by the door. Toby made his way slowly toward the little cubicle and peered at the person on the other side of the glass... and froze.
The man, or maybe boy was a better word, on the other side of the glass looked about Toby's age, maybe a little younger. His skin was disturbingly pale and his long, pale, straight blond hair seem to be strategically placed over his ears, as if he didn't want people looking at his ears. He had on a pair of large, dark sunglasses, thought that seemed kind of ridiculous. Not only was he now indoors, but the day was heavily overcast and practically screamed RAIN! He was lounging in the seat as if it were his own personal throne. But... these things were not what really caught Toby's attention... it was the guy's clothes. He was dressed in a black poet's shirt that hung down low in the neck, showing a considerable amount of the flesh of his chest. He wore pair of leather gloves over his hands, hands that were fiddling with a crystal ball. His legs were clad in a pair of criminally tight pants that showed off a lot more of the male anatomy than Toby really wanted to see on another man, and it probably made all the female policeman in the place wish he would commit some heinous crime so that they had a reason to manhandle him a bit. His feet, which he had propped up on the desk in front of him, were covered in a pair of black leather boots that came halfway up his calves. Toby realized he was staring when the strange man looked up and smiled as if Toby were an old friend he hadn't seen for years. Toby quickly averted his eyes and sat down stiffly in the chair across from the stranger.
The man put his feet on the floor, leaned forward, and started talking. Toby couldn't hear a word he was saying, due to the glass, so the stranger looked pretty ridiculous as his mouth moved but no sound could be heard. Toby rolled his eyes and made wild motions with his hands to get the guy to stop talking. Eventually, the guy got the picture and shut up. Toby pointed at the telephone, watching as the man looked at it, then looked at his own. The man pointed at his phone and raised his eyebrows above his sunglasses in what Toby assumed was a questioning gesture. Toby nodded, and he slowly and deliberately picked up the receiver and put it to his ear. The man mimicked Toby's movements and pressed his own receiver to his ear... upside down. Toby let out an exasperated sigh. He turned the phone upside down, like the stranger had it, gave a very adamant shake of his head, and then turned the receiver right side up again, still using those slow, deliberate movements and hoping to make his point.
Thank everything holy and good that the guy got the idea and turned the receiver the right way and looked inquisitively at Toby again.
"You have to talk into the phone, dumbass.", Toby said, not even trying to mask the blatantly obvious annoyance in his voice.
"Of course.", the man replied into the phone, and Toby noted the accent and arrogance in the way he spoke.
Toby studied the man for a few moments more. Several years ago, Sarah had told Toby a story. It began much the same as the rest of them had, but... this had been... different somehow. Tears were constantly leaking out of her eyes as she spoke and her hold on him had been tighter than usual. And usually, before or after a story, she would assure Toby that it wasn't real, that it was all make believe and he had nothing to worry about. Not this time. While she didn't come straight out and say it was all real, Toby didn't think she had to. Toby knew, without really knowing how he knew, that it had really happened. Sarah had wished Toby away to the Goblin King and then won him back, and the king had fallen in love with the girl... and Toby sometimes suspected the girl had somehow managed to fall in love with the king, but Toby never brought it up, because he could tell it hurt Sarah.
But now, here he was, faced with a man who fit the description of the man Sarah had told Toby so much about. Although... this stranger's hair was tame, and he looked at least 10 years younger than the man that had been described to Toby.
"Are... are you the Goblin King?", Toby whispered into the phone.
The stranger smiled patiently as if he was dealing with a small child and replied, "No, no. I am Jareth's younger brother, Coraeon."
Toby raised an eyebrow. "That's a mouthful.", he commented.
The guy stared uncomprehendingly then grinned. "Oh, I understand.", he replied finally. "You cannot pronounce my name. I-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa.", Toby interrupted angrily. "I can pronounce your name just find, Coraeon. But it's a helluva lot to say for just one word, you've got to have a nickname or something. Something else I can call you."
Coraeon scowled, and then turned thoughtful for several moments. Eventually, he said reluctantly, "You may... call me... Cory."
Toby nodded. "Better. Now, what do you want? Or what does the Goblin King want, I should say."
Cory shook his head. "No, it's all me. In fact, Jareth pointedly told me to not come to you, so naturally, I did the exact opposite of what he asked."
Toby raised an eyebrow. "Playing the annoying younger brother card, huh?"
Cory gave Toby a strange half-smiled that was mostly full of concern and worry, and Toby was suddenly much more interested.
"Partially, I suppose.", was Cory's reply. He rolled his wrist, and the crystal he'd been fiddling with the entire time vanished. "There is, of course, a more... urgent reason."
Toby sighed. "You know, I only have so much time, so you should probably get to the goddamn point so I can go ahead and reject your offer and serve my very lenient time of 24 hours so I can get out of here and end up getting depressed and doing it all over again." Toby's voice was filled with venom, and the acidic anger in his voice grew with every word. Toby was surprised the phone hadn't started melting in his hand yet. And with every word, Cory flinched. On the inside, Toby smiled. He was winning, and he knew Al would give him an extra minute or two so Toby could finish up. And it was also now obvious that Cory was not nearly as arrogant or sure of himself as he'd seemed at first.
Cory nodded quickly and muttered, "O-of c-course, T-Toby.", into the receiver.
Toby snorted. "Yeah, I didn't figure you were as badass as you were acting, although you acted very well, it only took me a few seconds to figure you out.", he replied boredly, his voice drenched in sarcasm.
Cory smiled nervously, and Toby could see the color rising in the man's cheeks. "Jareth was right; you are your sister's brother."
Toby's smile took on a sad look. "Just... just get it over with, man."
Cory must've noticed the sadness, because he nodded and said, "Yes, I'm sorry about Sarah, it nearly tore Jareth apart when he thought she was dead."
Toby noted the past tense Cory used and looked at the man quickly. His gaze hardened. "She's dead, Cory.", he growled. "Don't get my hopes up, don't you dare get my hopes up, because I took her death hard enough the first time, and I'm still taking it hard. I don't ever want to hear you or anyone else hint that she's not dead. Do you understand me?" Toby's voice was strong and demanding, and he was sure he saw a flicker of fear and respect on Cory's face... and that was another thing... "And take off those sunglasses, I wanna see your eyes."
The little color that the man had drained. "Toby, that's not-"
"I said, take them off!", Toby hissed into the receiver, glaring at Cory,
Cory obeyed after only a moment's hesitation. An audible gasp escaped from between Toby's lips.
Cory's eyes were jet black. Not just the pupil's or the irises, but entirely black. They reminded Toby strangely of dark, bottomless pits that threatened to swallow some pour, unsuspecting soul's mind and drive them inhumanly insane. Toby felt himself falling into those oubliette eyes, feeling his mind slip away from him, fleeing towards those unearthly orbs... oh, how nice it would feel to just give in...
And then it stopped.
It felt like he was slowly coming out of a dream, groggily pulling himself out of the depths of those dark, bottomless eyes as if they were gripping him and trying to pull him back down. Toby freed himself with quite a lot of effort and was left blinking sleepily at Cory's concerned face in confusion. Cory had put his sunglasses back on, and Toby realized numbly that was why it had all stopped.
Toby weakly picked up the phone he dropped to the desk and asked hoarsely, "What the hell was that?"
"Hypnotism.", Cory replies, then smiled. "Still want to see my eyes, then, mate?" Toby noted a tad bit of arrogance in his voice. He shook his head, and Cory nodded. "Good, now can I-" He stopped and looked over Toby's head just as Al came up behind Toby.
"Time's up. Sorry, kid.", Al apologized sincerely.
"It's all right, Al.", Toby replied, the phone still held up to his face so Cory would be sure to hear. "I was just leaving."
"Toby, wait!" Cory shouted into the phone desperately.
Toby cringed and shouted back, "WHAT!" Toby was rewarded with a cringe from Cory, and he smiled. "Yeah, how do you like it?"
Cory winced. "Not very much, actually. Sorry." He took a deep breath. "Toby, you must listen to me. Sarah isn't dead." When Toby only glared at him in silence, Cory continued. "Toby... I know where she is."
And Toby lost it.
Toby lunged at the glass, slamming his entire body into it, ignoring the surprised shout from Al behind him and the hands that were trying to pull him away and the fact that Cory had jumped back in surprise so fast that he'd fallen over and was now lying on the floor, staring up at Toby in shock.
"SHE'S DEAD!", Toby screeched at the man, clawing and beating desperately at the glass separating them. "MY SISTER IS DEAD, YOU SON OF A BITCH! DO YOU HEAR ME? DEAD! SARAH IS DEAD, AND NOTHING CAN BRING HER BACK! SHE'S DEAD!"
It took five guards to finally pull Toby away from the glass and out the door. He was struggling and kicking as they dragged him all the way back to his cell, and the entire time, Toby was screeching "SHE'S DEAD!" at the top of his lungs over and over again...
XXBackXInXBlackXX
Sarah Williams had quite gotten used to the dank chill of this dungeon and the agonized moans and groans of her fellow prisoners in nearby cells. Whenever there was a new prisoner, it'd give Sarah someone to talk to for a few days, but they were all eventually reduced to moaning almost constantly due to whatever torture awaits them in the backroom. Sarah had not experienced anything more agonizing than the occasional whipping, but she could hear the terrifying screams when they'd take one of the prisoners back there, so she knew whatever it was must be more horrible than anything Sarah could ever imagine. Much more horrible than whipping. Sarah had taken to covering her ears when the guards would come and take one of the prisoners back there.
Four years. Four miserable years she'd been here, keeping track of the days with tally marks she'd drawn with a rock on the stone walls of her cell. She knew she had to be on the east side; early in the morning, at sunrise, the sun would shine almost directly into her cell through the barred window high up on the wall, but she sky through the window in the cell across from hers would still be dark. So, she knew when the day began and when it ended, and she had been diligently keeping count for the last four years.
Sarah had absolutely no memory of what had happened in between the car crash and when she'd woken up groggily over the shoulder of a very large man (at least, she thought it was a man) who'd carried her through a series of tunnels and had eventually thrown her unceremoniously in this very cell four years ago. Heck, she barely even remembered the crash itself. Then again, she tried not to think about it because it only made her want to cry, and showing weakness was the last thing she wanted to do in this dark place.
Right now, it was nighttime outside the... wherever she was. Sarah always felt the saddest at night, lamenting the absence of the stars she used to watch religiously every night, especially with her little brother. She missed the unknown words of the secret conversations the heavens held so much, but even more than the stars, she missed Toby. He probably thought she was dead, they all probably thought she was dead, and she felt guilty for it. Perhaps that guilt was a little irrational, but she didn't really care. She was alive, and everyone thought she'd died in the car crash, so she felt guilty.
But Sarah refused to dwell on that and she focused on trying to sleep on her thin mat of hay that was her bed in her comfy little cell, trying to ignore the moaning of the tortured and dying men and women around her.
Sarah sat bolt upright as the reinforced steel door at the entrance of the dungeon swung open with a loud CLANG! She heard the shuffling of feet, and the grunting, growling, and struggling of whatever new doomed soul they were bringing in here to rot away. Perhaps it was a little selfish, but Sarah crossed her fingers and prayed that he or she would be placed somewhere nearby. She was desperate for someone to talk to, there hadn't been anyone knew that she could talk to in several months now. She listened carefully as the noises came closer, and she could hear that whoever they were bringing in was cursing his captors and making fun of them. Sarah allowed herself a small smile as she caught the words "those disgusting ugly mugs of yours" come from him.
The thick steel bars that made up the door to Sarah's cell were less than an inch apart, and the only light in that dungeon came from the torches burning in between each cell. Very little of the light from those torches made its way into the cell so that you could only make out dark shapes in the gloom and nothing else. Sarah would not be able to see whoever it was from her place in the corner farthest from the door, and she knew better than to try and peer out between the bars. The first couple of times they'd brought in new prisoners, she'd done that, and the guard had hefted his whip and lashed her across the face. So, she'd learned not to be too curious. She waited, listening for the noise of one of the other cell doors opening or for the footsteps to stop, but they just kept coming closer. They didn't stop until they were right outside Sarah's door. Sarah couldn't believe her luck. The new prisoner, right across from her. Someone she could talk to, at least for a time.
Sarah jumped violently in surprise at the sound of a key turning into the lock of her cell door. Her heart leapt into her throat. They were putting him in here? That had never happened before, she'd always been left here alone without any cell mates. Until they decided to whip her every once in a while, she would often begin to wonder if they'd simply forgotten about her. Perhaps they finally had and were throwing someone in here because they thought it was empty?
Sarah couldn't really see what was going on due to the meager light, but she heard the cell door open and could make out two large, dark masses that must've been guards supporting a smaller mass between them. Sarah heard grunting coming from the dark shapes, and then a thud sounded somewhere very close by as the new prisoner was shoved into the cell. The poor man groaned in pain. And then, another first, one of the huge, dark shapes of the guards turned toward Sarah and spoke.
"You two are gonna have lotsa fun in here together, girlie.", the guard rasped, and then him and his big friend laughed gutturally. Sarah could still hear them laughing as they left the dungeon.
Sarah listened closely as her new cellmate struggled against whatever bonds were restraining him. When the guards didn't come back after a few minutes, Sarah let out a breath and scrambled toward the prisoner.
"Stop squirming!", she hissed down at him. The man gave a small sound of surprise and obeyed. Sarah put out her hands and came in contact with flesh. Flesh that was riddled with wet little grooves. Sarah brought her wet fingers up to her nose and sniffed. Blood. "They whipped you?", Sarah whispered.
The man grunted and said something, but it was muffled. Sarah let her finger's travel up the man's back to his head, but his head was covered with something rough and flexible. A sack.
"Don't speak, not yet.", Sarah whispered. "As soon as I treat your back, I'll get you free of whatever's restraining you." The man grunted again, and Sarah assumed that meant he understood.
Sarah had befriended the elderly woman, Eloen, who brought the prisoners their daily rations of food a couple of months after she'd first been brought here, and the woman often brought her extra food and water, and sometimes an extra shirt or two when Sarah would get whipped, right under the noses of the guards. She also slipped Sarah healing and pain relieving salves for when she was whipped as well as some sort of potion or something that helped her to sleep. There were other small things, too, but these were the most frequent. The guards that whipped her never asked how her wounds healed so fast or how she managed to have a shirt that isn't torn and bloodied every time they'd bring out the whip for her. Sarah guessed that they were far too stupid to realize. Sarah had dug out an already loose stone out of the floor and hollowed out a good bit of the space beneath it to hide the excess supplies there. Now, she removed the stone, reached in, and felt around for a few moments before pulling out a small container, not unlike the containers of Vaseline in her world. She went back in and grabbed a similar container. One contained the pain relieving salve and the other contained the healing salve. She reached her hand into the hole one more time and came back out with a small vial of the dreamless sleep drink and one of the spare shirts with a canteen of water wrapped up in it. The shirt was a little dusty, but it was better than a shirt with absolutely no back coming in contact with the grimy surfaces of the dungeon. All the supplies she needed now in hand, Sarah moved back over the man.
Sarah left the bonds on so that the man wouldn't lash out suddenly from pain. First, she opened the canteen and gently poured the cool water over his back. There was a low hiss then a sigh from the man, and Sarah used the remains of the man's shirt to wipe the wounds gently. Next, Sarah applied the pain relieving salve on the man's back. Almost instantly, the stranger let out a sigh of relief and relaxed. Sarah rubbed the salved gently over his entire back, then placed the lid back on the container and started with the healing salve. This had to be applied deep into the wound to be completely effective, and that was why Sarah had applied the pain reliever first. The man still flinched slightly, but it wasn't the agonized screams that would've been the result if she had not applied the pain reliever first. This was just as well. She didn't want any of the guards hearing and coming to investigate.
When Sarah was done, she felt around until she found the man's feet bound together. She studied the knot with her hands, adept at seeing things with her hands after all these years in the dark, and she carefully untied the knot. She did the same with the man's hands, which had been bound behind his back, and the man let out a grateful sigh. He groaned as he struggled to sit up, but Sarah pushed him back down.
"Lay down, you need to rest.", she ordered softly. She thought maybe she heard a soft laugh from under the sack, but he obeyed her. She reached up and removed the bag from his head.
The man took the shirt she offered and allowed her to help him pull it over his head and slip his arms through the sleeves.
"Thank you so m-", the man started, but he stopped mid-sentence. She could tell something had surprised him, and the silence stretched on until the man finally whispered, "Sarah."
The stranger's accented voice was painfully familiar to Sarah, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She hesitated, wondering how the stranger knew her name, or even how he could find anything in this dark to place her name with, but she didn't dwell on it. She felt around in the gloom, found the vial of sleeping potion, picked it up, popped the top, and held it up to the stranger's lips.
"Take this.", she whispered. "Drink. It'll help you sleep without any dreams." The stranger hesitated for a few moments before reaching up and moving her hand so that the vial tilted further and the liquid poured into his mouth. Sarah made him drink the rest of the water that was in the canteen, and then sat back.
The man reached out a hand and she felt it touch her face lightly. "Sarah...", he whispered, then his hand dropped as the potion took effect and he drifted off. But Sarah had already figured out who it was. She reached out tentatively and brushed her hands through his long, feathery hair.
"Why did you come here?", she sighed, running her hands down his scarred back. "Oh, Jareth."
Yes, that's right people, LP is BACK and, I hope, better than ever. Some real life stuff kinda got in the way there for a long time, and I was unable to find inspiration for a while. But I am back, baby, yeah! This story will be quite a bit darker than my other ones, but there will be humor, never fear. Jareth and Sarah are locked up in a cell together, how can they not get on each other's nerves? Cause it really isn't a Labyrinth fan fiction if Jareth and Sarah don't annoy the snot out of one another at least twice, it really isn't. And don't worry too much about Toby, either, I'll set him straight eventually. And, of course, a huge thanks to my beta, FireChildSlytherin5, who should be worshipped, yo!
So, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 1, and uh... pleeeeeease review and tell me what you think? *cue big, watery puppy dog eyes of dooooom*
