The night that Toby drowned Sarah had been drowsy from too many sleeping pills and had nodded off while watching him. She found him an hour later in the riverbed, much too late. She screamed certain Words, but no one came.

This was the day that Sarah lost her wonder.

Toby was 7 years old.

The day after Toby died was a somber occasion. She wore the same white blouse that Toby thought looked nice on her when they played in the mourners looked at her with disdain, like she was the girl who wore the Red Shoes. Her ex-mother had long since lost the glamour of her youth. Heaven (or Hell) knew why she even attended, and dressed in her Sunday best to a Jewish funeral no less, but Sarah was not happy to see her. Neither was Karen, which was an understatement.

Her Father, lost in his grief, saw and heard nothing.

When they interred Toby in the mausoleum Sarah fell to her knees. She barely saw the rough stone being pushed into place, becoming one solid wall of forgotten dead.

She would never forget. Not Toby, not-

After the service was over she dazedly got up and sat on the bench nearest his grave for a long time after the others had left. She couldn't bring herself to murmur prayers to any God of the old religions, not when she had seen what she had.

There was a rustle of leaves, behind her. An owl hooted. Sarah was furious.

The Shiva was an hour later, and many came who had never even known Toby. Sarah raged silently at them. Karen collected the baskets of candies and various fruits and put them on the table where they sat untouched for hours as Karen and her Father retreated to the living room to sit with the rest of the family. Sarah was not hungry but went through the gloriously distracting task of putting away everything. Apples, butterscotch, peaches-

She stared accusingly at the last for a moment, then finished with the rest of the goods.

Sarah threw away the peaches.

That night she sat in front of her mirror. She'd spoken to it many times over the course of her life now, ever since...

Yes, that.

And she hadn't gotten any response for almost 7 years. Why should now be any different? Sarah paused in front of the mirror, waiting.

Well, damn them.

Sarah cursed the mirror, turned away from it with the start of tears, turned back to it suddenly.

"Please, Hoggle, Ludo, anyone? Goblin King-Jareth! Is there anyone there? Toby is-her voice broke-dead!"

The word, spoken aloud, shook her to the core. Her face crumpled as she whispered, "..and it's all my fault."

A tap at her window. She saw through the mirror, an owl sitting still on the landing. Nothing to lose anymore, she supposed, though he's come a bit late to take what he's after.

He transformed into a familiar face before she could take time to blink. The first time it had scared her, but she barely noticed it now. Sarah looked down at the floor when he tried to catch her eye. She saw a pair of boots enter her blurry vision. A gloved hand gently tilted her now wet face into the light.

His eyes were so bright.

"The summons was not valid," said Jareth slowly and not without gravitas, "I apologize for the misunderstanding."

Sarah laughed bitterly.

"You, sorry? Ha!", then soberingly looked back up at him from the floor, "...it's not like it was your fault, Goblin King."

Jareth frowned. "Neither was it yours."

Sarah smiled at him, a smile which held no mirth or joy. He was taken aback by the anger plain on her shining face.

"Oh, but it was, Goblin King," Sarah drawled, and it sent a shiver down his back, "if it hadn't been for my foolishness, my need to..." She struggled for the word.

Jareth thought he'd supply it, but she wouldn't be happy that he'd done it-

"Forget?" He waited for the inevitable backlash, the familiar fire that had raged in her when she ran his Labyrinth.

She quite surprised him.

Sarah folded into herself, eyes sliding shut.

"I had taken those stupid pills, I wasn't watching him...I thought for one moment I could just...just be at peace."

Jareth's eyes searched hers, finding no malice, but quite a bit of self hatred, which was understandable.

Sarah sighed.

"Can you blame me for wanting to forget?"

The Goblin King said nothing.

She suddenly grabbed his cloak. "Is there nothing you could do?" she cried, and that cry burned his very heart like a brand. "Nothing you can do, still, for him? With all your power, there must be something-reverse time, take me in his place, please!

Sarah was sobbing openly now into her hands as she slid down to the floor. Jareth sat down next to her.

"You once said you'd rearrange the stars for me," she spoke without a change in voice.

"I'm not a god, Sarah," he said gently, and put a hand on her cheek, "though some have mistaken me for such. I cannot truly turn back time, perhaps play with it, but not in the way you would like. As for bringing back the dead..." he brought her dark head under his chin and she rested against his chest, "even Fae cannot know what lies beyond the Veil of this world. It is as much a mystery to us as it is to mortals."

Sarah looked at his face suddenly, and the despair plain on her face frightened him.

"Is that what you are, then?Fae?"

Jareth swallowed, "More or less. I cannot remember the last time I read the Book of Origins in the great library hall."

At the mention of the collection of tomes, Sarah's eyes widened, and her mask of sorrow lifted briefly before fitting itself back over her visage.

Jareth longed to see her happy again.

The corner of his lip quirked, "you could accompany me sometime, if you like."

"I'd like that," said Sarah, softly.

He held her for the whole night.