Disclaimer: I don't assume to own any part of 'Labyrinth', either as a product or as the movie itself. I hope this offers no offence to those who do.
Pairing: Jareth/Toby slash.
Author's Note: This does start out slowly, just in terms of the slash itself. There will, in fact, be no significant romantic content in this story for a while. Trust me, when it does happen it will be significant! That being said, I do have warnings for slash, violence, and general darkness. It might not seem so dark now, but, once again, I do have plans for later chapters.
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Sarah grinned and held out her arms. "Kiss me, you fool," she teased. Then she wrapped him up in her arms and her coat and squeezed him tight against her.
Toby muffled a squeak of indignation in her collar but resigned himself when Sarah's high laugh sounded in his right ear. He caught sight of his parents over Sarah's shoulder and they looked upset, almost fearful.
Sarah put him down finally, still laughing that slightly manic laugh as she rapped out questions he couldn't actually understand because she was mixing up her words and talking too fast.
"Sarah, you don't look so good," he cut in, "Are you okay?"
She rolled her green eyes at him. "I'm fine, Tobes. Really. Southeastern Water Supply is a ratty place to work at this time of year but that's about it. But look at you! All grown up these days, I see."
"I'm only twelve," he said self-deprecatingly, shrugging his thin shoulders, "When did you get home?"
"Just got here," Sarah prattled.
Her suitcases were still in the hall and Karen finally snapped into action. "Toby, could you help your father take Sarah's things upstairs, please? Sarah, would you like a cup of coffee or something?"
"No, thanks. But chocolate would be good."
"Sure, if I have some left," Karen said, putting a hand on the young woman's shoulders, "We're so happy to have you back for Christmas, dear."
"I'm happy to be back. Oh, I need to pick up some wrapping paper. I just haven't had the time to get the gifts organized. Is that okay?"
"That's fine. I still have some paper left but we can always pick up some more. Go on, Robbie, take the cases up."
Robert kissed his daughter's cheek and valiantly attacked the suitcases. There was really just the one big one and that the one he had to lug up a flight of stairs. The smaller carryall was left to his son, who almost fell over backwards trying to balance the weight.
Sarah's room wasn't Sarah's room anymore. Now she used the spare room, with the light cream wallpaper and the neat little double bed decked out in what Karen fondly called 'eggshell blue'.
Toby thankfully abandoned the carryall at the door and then nudged it aside with his foot so no one could fall over it. He caught his breath and looked around, catching sight of the bath salts on the dresser from Sarah's last visit six months ago.
"Dad, is Sarah okay?" Toby asked anxiously, "She sounds a little… strange."
His dad glanced at him from the corner of his eye but fidgeted with the combination lock on the suitcase. "She's fine, Toby. Just tired."
"Does Mom have anything to eat around here?"
"I don't know, son. Let's go ask her, shall we?"
Father and son clattered down the stairs one after the other, stomping into the kitchen to find the two women making coffee and putting out biscuits.
Toby snorted at the biscuits and dived into the fridge. He emerged a moment later triumphantly holding cheese. "Sandwich," he replied to his mother's unasked question.
Karen nodded in resignation and smiled as he began to bang drawers and cupboard doors. She was blissfully happy with the state of chaos her son left in her home; the mothering instinct burned fiercely in her bosom. But then she happened to look at Sarah as if to say, 'he's such a dear boy' and caught the look of furtive fear as the young woman stared at the door.
Karen shared a worried look with Robert.
Toby was oblivious. "Hey, Sarah. Want a sandwich?" he called out cheerfully.
"Sure, kiddie." Sarah looked surreptitiously at her watch. "So, what's the gossip since I've been away?"
"Harold's Old Gardening Shed closed last month," Robert said, "The owner died. It was very sad."
"What, Harold's? Where we used to get our roses? Mom loved those roses!"
"It was terribly sad," Karen agreed, putting down her cup, "Harold's was the last gardening store in the area. All we have left is the florist, really."
"What about Grow n' Grow? Don't they sell cut flowers?" Sarah asked.
Karen made a face and shook her head. "Their plants always die too quickly. Well, it's either the store or the florists."
"The florists charge the earth," Sarah complained, "Thanks, Tobes. Er, is this a cheese sandwich or a cheese mess with a bit of bread thrown in for good luck?"
"Eat it or die," he said bluntly.
She grinned at him and bit into her 'cheese mess'. "Not so bad." She washed down the mouthful with chocolate and hummed appreciatively. "You know, it's so good to be home for a bit. Things have been stressful lately."
There was nothing to say to that. Sarah didn't volunteer any more information and she looked so tense that no one wanted to ask. At least, not so soon.
"How's Agnes?" Toby asked.
Agnes was Sarah's flatmate.
"She's fine. She sent a Christmas card. I'll bring it down after I unpack." Sarah waved vaguely upstairs and then nibbled at her sandwich again as if she needed to occupy her mouth.
"And the Cat?"
"The Cat hasn't been back since Thanksgiving. I think the turkey we made finally scared it away."
Karen shuddered. "I hate cats," she complained, "And that Cat was horrible. It was a misbegotten little runt of a thing."
"It was kind of cool," Toby reminisced.
Sarah didn't seem to be paying attention. She had frozen, her sandwich still an inch from her mouth as she stared at the door. Waiting for something. Pale. With her green eyes enormous in her astonishingly thin face.
Toby felt a cold wave rush through him. Instinctively he looked to his mother.
She bobbed her head imperiously to the door.
The scrape of his chair on the linoleum startled Sarah out of her haze. "Hey, Tobes. Where are you going?"
"I've got, er…"
Karen leaned forward and put her hand firmly over Sarah's. "I think we need to talk, dear. Toby, go on to your room. I'll come get you when we're done."
Toby fled.
He had Sarah's old room, now, up at the top of the house, under the roof. There were clothes on the chair in the corner and a desk and a single bed with plain brown sheets because he'd strenuously objected to action figure bedclothes after he turned eleven.
He didn't feel so very old, any more. In fact, he felt just a little too young.
He changed, swiftly. Pulled on sweats and a t-shirt. Socks to keep his suddenly cold feet warm. And Lancelot.
Toby took a lot of trouble to be as grown-up as he could be. He didn't like action figures because, as he thought of it, only babies played make-believe. And he didn't let his mom buy his clothes because he knew what he wanted and he knew where to get it. Lancelot was different. Lancelot lived under his bed. Toby only pulled him out when he really needed to, but he figured that now was one of the times he needed to. Who knew Sarah could be so weird? Toby hoped it was nothing serious.
An hour later Sarah knocked on the door of his room and came in hesitantly, waiting in the doorway until he looked up and she knew it was alright.
"Homework?" she asked, pointing to the book on the desk.
He nodded, grimacing at her so she could commiserate and laugh. Toby liked Sarah when she laughed. He had no clue what to say when she was sad and serious. They didn't operate on serious. Their world was a play-world, built when staying home with Sarah meant romping in the living room pretending to have adventures in the enchanted forest.
A little queer, perhaps, but then he'd been a kid. Fairies were easy when he was a kid.
Sarah did smile, but the serious look didn't leave her green eyes.
The wildness was out of them slightly, and Toby was too young to place the dead, calm glaze in them now.
"Karen said I scared you," Sarah began slowly. She scratched her head and looked at the floor. "I didn't mean to. Things have been kind of difficult recently. I was just so happy to be home, you know. I wanted to forget everything else. I was trying to."
Toby held his breath because Sarah was speaking as if she was exhausted and talking to herself more than to him.
But then she looked up and Toby coughed, looking back at his book.
"Toby, I'm probably going to have to leave quite soon," she said unexpectedly, "I don't expect I'll get a lot of time to let you know when, so I'm going to give you a present. Keep it very safe. It's yours anyway, but I was waiting to give it to you when you were older. Anyway, guess you're old enough now, right?"
She got up and put a box down in front of him.
He could see her hand as it came into view before him. It was a decent hand, nice and shapely. The nails were short and neat with white half-moons in the pink. The skin was soft, freshly washed and still damp. Then the hand left his direct gaze and he felt it ruffle his hair on its way back.
There was a pause as he stared uselessly at the box.
"Well, I guess you can open it later," Sarah remarked.
The light humour was back, needling at him as if all of this wasn't completely strange. But then again, it wasn't all that strange, was it? Perfectly logical- Sarah was tired and had a problem, and maybe she'd need to leave sooner than expected for some vacation time on her own and she was giving him a present now instead of waiting for later. Easy!
So Toby relaxed and looked back at Sarah as he scrabbled at the box in front of him. It was flat, like the kind his mother stored the silver serving spoons in, and it was dark wood inside with a thick cushion just on the bottom.
Toby hadn't known what to expect so he hadn't really any expectations. What he found, though, did surprise him.
The object lying there was a necklace of sorts. He couldn't think of what else to call it. It was silver-looking, long and coiled up, with a sort of arrow thing as a pendant.
"You got me a chain?" he ventured, prodding it with his fingers.
"I didn't really get it for you," Sarah said, "It was kind of given to you. When you were a baby. Look, Toby, not to scare you or anything but your Mom and Dad don't know about it. Someone who helped me when I was a girl gave this specifically to you. I didn't know how to explain it to Dad and I was terrified Karen would throw me out if she found out some strange guy was giving her precious baby boy presents, so I took it for safe keeping. You can't tell them."
"What?" Toby spun around, "You mean this is a big, deep, dark secret I'm not supposed to tell Mom and Dad about?"
Sarah nodded earnestly. "Toby, you can't tell anyone."
"Really? No one? No one at all?" He squinted a blue-eyed glare at her while she squirmed in worry that she'd said too much and would now get in trouble, and then he broke into a grin. "Cool! I love secrets. Who was the guy?" A thought struck him. "He wasn't some creepy old guy who loved babies a little too much, was he?"
"Not exactly," Sarah sniggered, throwing her mind back to the night she'd found the medallion in Toby's crib, clutched in his chubby fist.
"Then who?"
Sarah looked at the medallion in its sort-of luxurious box and twisted her fingers behind her back as she thought how best to answer that question. "We-ell, it's not really clear. He was good to you, and I think he'll come meet you himself one of these days. That medallion was pretty important to him. I think. He might even ask for it back, I don't know. All I know is, he left it for you and I'm not going to be around very long so I should give it to you like he wanted."
Toby had a lot of questions, most of which started with 'why' and 'who' but some of which started with 'I don't understand'. But what was the point? Sarah looked exhausted and she was swaying on her feet, her eyes heavy.
"Thanks," he said, grinning cheerfully, hoping to put her mind at rest.
She smiled back at him and then, much to Toby's horror, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. Her lips were hot, dry and hard. Then she vanished out of the door, almost running in her haste.
Toby looked from the door of his bedroom to the box lying on his desk. Shrugging, he eventually just shut it up and stuck it under his mattress for safekeeping.
