Summary: Jeremy had a strange dream about a fifteen year old girl, who fought past dangers untold and hardships unnumbered. But he barely remembers. This is the tale of Jeremy the morning after. Darkish. I have decided to expand. Was previously a oneshot.
The Morning After
As Jeremy Stephens woke that Sunday morning he felt as if he had lost something vitally important overnight. Something precious.
He could not explain that strange sense of loss and even if he could – it probably would not make a great deal of sense. The man never had been an early bird and, thankfully, his girlfriend through eight years was well aware of this and never tried to engage him in a conversation before the actor had had his first cup of coffee.
As he yawned and stretched, he tried to remember his dream. All he knew was that it had been very vivid and vibrant and that he had looked different. Except that, he barely remembered anything except that someone he knew had played an important part in the dream. Who? Linda? Fredrick, their lazy, black tomcat? Or perhaps, John, the manager, who had been a lot on Jeremy's back lately? Figures, if his first dream in ages had been plagued by a poorly dressed workaholic with sadistic tendencies.
Jeremy snorted. He reached for the wristwatch on the nightstand. It was 12 o'clock in the afternoon. Jeremy rubbed his eyes. Thirteen hours of sleep – no wonder he felt strange. The last time he had slept for that many hours, must have been when he was a young out-of-work actor sleeping on friends' couches while trying to find fame and fortune in the big city.
Jeremy rose, with wobbly legs, and staggered over to the mirror in Linda's dressing table. He groaned at his reflection – it looked all wrong. His blond hair seemed dull and short, his cheekbones did not seem regal enough, his regular blue eyes seemed mundane and his award winning smile did not look… feral enough.
Had he been a long haired, feral king in his dream?
And why did he feel a compulsion for reaching out after Linda's lip gloss and applying it?
Linda entered the bedroom carrying a cup of coffee and found Jeremy pinching his cheekbones in a gentle, disbelieving manner. She raised an eyebrow, but knew better than to ask. She handed him the cup and Jeremy looked at her with a heartbreakingly fond expression in his eyes. "Thank you," he breathed and looked at her again. This time his look was one of confusion. As if he thought she was someone else. He shook his head and hastily took a sip of the coffee.
Linda put her arms around him from behind and studied their reflection in the mirror.
They were a dashing couple, she knew that, and she often boasted of Jeremy's good looks to her friends. She felt lucky that she had found Jeremy – if it weren't for him, she never would have had such a successful career. She had willingly left home and family behind to follow him to England, to ensure it.
They were a dashing couple.
She turned her head towards her partner, and felt at peace with the world. All was well.
All was well. Until the light began to flicker and Jeremy froze in her arms.
Jeremy's reflection changed as the light flickered. Every two seconds his handsome, content looking face changed into something different. Something sinister. Something positively feral.
His face was all sharp angles, his nose was slightly crooked, his lips curling into a crooked smile. The reflection laughed darkly, which showed off his pointed teeth. It was a wild animal in a humanoid shape.
Then Jeremy looked at Linda's reflection.
Linda put a comforting hand on his arm. "Jeremy, are you okay?"
He felt like he was having a seizure. There were so many different feelings trying to occupy his head at once.
In the mirror the person holding him was shorter and younger than Linda. Her hair was the color of chocolate, pin straight, and went down to her chest. Her eyes were sad and green and innocent. He knew the real Linda was looking at him with intense worry, but she looked up at him, or rather up at Jeremy's reflection, with a mixture of fascination, fear and repressed desire written plainly on her face. It was Sarah.
Linda's fifteen year old daughter.
He felt angry. He felt deeply, deeply hurt. He felt betrayed. He felt desire for the green eyed vixen in the mirror. He felt rejected and defeated all over again. He felt fascinated with her innocent eyes. He felt something, he might have characterized as being in love if he didn't know it was wrong.
As the lights went, his reflection in the mirror was constant.
Above all, he felt terribly, terribly angry. Angry at the woman beside him for not being the girl in the mirror.
"No." Jareth said in a dark voice, and turned to face the woman beside him, who stepped away from him. "I am not alright." He approached her and circled her like a vulture.
Linda looked on in horror as Jeremy's beautiful face had turned into a horrid caricature. The cheekbones looked sharp as knife edges. She could have sworn she noticed glitter on his cheeks.
The left eye's pupil dilated as she hit him with a heavy brush. She ran.
He prowled and hunted her down. Eventually cornering her, like a hungry lion would an injured zebra.
He flashed his pointed teeth at her in a horrid, morbid grin that spoke of death and pain. "But I believe I shall be soon."
Jeremy Stephens lost something precious overnight. Jareth was going to get her back.
(A/N): Sooo... ehm... yeah.
So... come over to the dark side, we have Jareths.
In my brain this makes sense. I hope you can see the sense somewhere in there too.
(A/N)2: I have decided to continue this, because some of you asked me very nicely :)
