Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, or the characters portrayed. Abigail is mine, however, so do not touch her.
Until death do you part...
As her ex-husband left her apartment for the last time, his arms laden with boxes, Sarah recited their wedding vows in her head. As he gave his only daughter a kiss on the forehead, he raised his eyes to Sarah, who held the baby with the firm, unconditional love of a mother. His eyes were intensely sad, but buried deep in them was a relief that tortured Sarah as he left without another look. She closed the door behind him and hid her grief from the child in her arms. As she deposited the squirmy baby into it's highchair, she listened to the thrum of her ex-husband's car in the driveway, and then strained to hear it as the car drove away into oblivion.
Goodbye, John.
Sarah resisted approaching the window to watch the car pull away; she felt as if her heart was tucked away in one of the unhappy cardboard boxes in the car's interior. Instead of watching, she hurried to the refrigerator, wiping away tears, to extract a yogurty concoction from the refrigerator. She set the open container on the plastic tray of the highchair and fastened a bib around the neck of the infant in the seat. She fed her child mechanically.
"Well Abigail," she said quietly, swallowing her tears, "I guess we're on our own now. Daddy's gone." She took a cleansing breath and smiled gently to soothe Abigail, automatically wiping the traces of food from her daughter's face with a paper towel. The child laughed enthusiastically, coaxing a tentative smile onto Sarah's face. Rising from her chair at the kitchen table, Sarah discarded the now empty container of diary product and removed Abigail's soiled bib, carelessly tossing it into the sink to clean later. Somehow, she managed to pick up Abigail at the same time, with practiced ease. Sarah glanced at the clock, feeling strangely lost. Oh of course, Abigails nap time. She nodded to herself and carried her daughter up the carpeted stairs to the nursery. While lowering Abigail into her crib, Sarah attempted to forget John's absence. She sat heavily in the rocking chair beside the crib, thinking and absently admiring the decoration of the nursery that John had selected. She ran a pale hand through her dark hair and sighed, her eyes roaming the room for something of interest. On the walnut secretary's desk against the far wall, Sarah's eyes found a red and white striped cap. It had once belonged to her younger brother, Toby. Hundreds of memories flooded into her clouded mind. Hoggle, Ludo, and Jareth, among hundreds of other creatures, appeared in her head, acting out her past adventures. As she became lost in her reminiscing, Abigail cried out, almost as if she were concerned. Sarah rose and patted the child's curls. The baby gurgled and smiled charmingly, extended her arms to be picked up. Sarah obliged immediately, enchanted by her daughter.
Inspired by the memories emerging in her head, Sarah transferred the cooing Abigail to her hip and retrieved a small, worn volume from the walnut secretary's desk. She toyed absently with the bookmark nestled between the pages as she examined the cover, opening it hesitantly to the marked page.
"I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city, to take back the child you have stolen." She clutched Abigail to her briefly and then set her on the floor. The baby proceeded to pull several blankets from the rail of her crib. Immediately, she became lost in the fold of fabric, giggling quietly. Sarah smiled and began to inspect the page she'd landed on. There was smudged writing in the lower right corner of the right page. She recognized it as her own handwriting, and attempted to decipher it one syllable at a time. "I wi...sh the go...bli..ns would come a...nd ta...ke you a...way. Ri...ght. n..ow?" She went over the words carefully in her mind. As she reached the fourth word, all color drained from her face. She turned to the bundle of blankets on the nursery floor and rose shakily to her feet; tears began forming on her hysterical face. She pulled apart the plush blankets. Abigail was gone.