Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or its characters, everyone else and all other locations are mine unless noted

AN: I have never seen or read Labyrinth. This came into my head from what my friends told me and a comic I read that had Jareth in it. I can't say if he'll be in character so lets assume he isn't. And Sara doesn't exist. I do plan on reading Labyrinth once I can find a copy. Now, on to the story.

Peaches

1. Bloodbath

Cathrine walked down the hall, smiled at her parents, and vanished into the family bathroom. Thirty minutes later, she came out in black jeans and a dark purple three quarter-length sleeve shirt. She was barefoot, her long flame-red hair soaking wet when she felt someone yank her back by the waist.

"What?"

"Shhh." Cathrine felt a sharp blade at her throat. A rough hand pulled her back against a body. Slowly she was forced to half-walk half-stumble backwards watching the pale bathroom door and the suddenly dark hall to her parents' room pass by. Her feet slipped in something sticky, wet…and slightly warm. "Do you like my work?"

As the blade slowly eased away from her throat, Cathrine looked down. Past the tanned arm wrapped around her waist, her feet were covered in still warm blood. Her father's body was sprawled there right at her feet, throat slit. Cathrine started trembling.

"Your mother is over here." She was quickly and forcibly turned. Her mother lay on the floor a look of horror on her face, her throat also slit. "Perhaps I should just kill you too, hmm?" The blade was back at her throat turning slowly and slightly in the soft part of her neck. "Or perhaps, I should wait to kill you." The words were a dangerous purr, a menacing sound. The hand holding the blade moved suddenly so both knife and hand rested against her pale cheek. "Such a waste."

Cathrine was terrified. The tears were starting to flow silently. Her throat was far too tight. Some random words drifted into her head slowly. Words her friend had told her to say once. Words she had once laughed at. Words that simply had to be impossible. Words that could allegedly help her.

"I…I wish the Goblin King…would take me away right n…now!" It was barely a whisper she had very little breath, but the owner of the blade laughed darkly. He ran his rough hand up her cheek to her ear, before drawing his hand to the nape of her neck. He reversed the blade in one lightning fast movement and drew his hand back to find it suddenly held in check. The murderer turned his head from the crying girl an angry growl escaping him. Lightning flashed. Black leather gloves. Piercing blue eyes, one darker than the other. Pale white blonde hair.

"I believe you have something of mine." The blue eyes glittered like ice chips in candlelight. The words were soft, velvet, but held so much danger Cathrine felt her knees give out. Her once happy world was going dark quickly. She fought for both consciousness and equilibrium. Instantly, the rough, feared arm around her waist vanished, to be replaced by a far gentler one that held her easily out of the blood. Tears blurred her vision, fear made her heart fly.

"Shhh. You're safe." A leather clad hand gently stroked her wet, tangled hair back from her face. Cathrine began to turn around only to find the leather hand gently turning her face away. "No."

Cathrine felt the arm around her relax, as though the person holding her turned his body away for some reason. She managed to keep her feet only by sheer will. Fear and panic and sorrow were still burning through her adrenaline. And her adrenaline was about to give out. It couldn't take this much longer. Before she collapsed, the warm arm tightened gently, pulling her against him.

"Close your eyes. You're fine, you're safe. Nothing's going to hurt you." The words were gentle, soothing…melodic. Cathrine collapsed totally back against him, too tired to hold herself up, and let her eyes slide shut as the sobs she had been fighting finally began. A gentle wind surrounded her. It ruffled her wet hair, and gently caressed her bloodless face. Very gently, so as not to break her, Jareth rested her against the stone wall.

"I'll be right back. You're safe." He flicked her rapidly drying hair out of her strange blue-green eyes before turning and vanishing. Cathrine slid down the slightly rough stone wall, her bare, sticky feet slipped on the cold stone. She wrapped her arms tightly around her knees and sobbed. Her eyes were far too blurred to take in the elegant dusty tan rose stone walls. She was shaking far too hard to realize she was leaning against slightly rough stone. Her mind was reeling. Inescapable. Impossible. Dead. They were dead. They were both dead. The blood. The blade. Blood. Death. She was suddenly choking on her tears.

Jareth looked into his freezer, unhappily. Peach Ice Cream. Not really comfort food for a girl. Especially a teenage human girl.

"What Jareth, can't decide what flavor of peach you want?" The voice was light and amused. Jareth looked distractedly over his shoulder. The chocolate eyes he met were laughing openly at him.

"Rhince, not now. Please? I'm in a hurry." Jareth grabbed one pint. He looked at it for a while. Comfort to a girl is…chocolate. Lots of it. Fudge and brownies and just plain chocolate. As he turned and walked past Rhince it transformed into triple chocolate ice cream. "Go away Rhince."

Rhince watched Jareth vanish, puzzled. Jareth doesn't like chocolate ice cream that much…

"Rhince, have you seen Jareth?" The man who walked in had gentle but knowing light grey eyes and dirty blonde hair. Rhince looked at his father not seeing him, still pondering chocolate ice cream.

"Jareth? Yes. I've seen him." Rhince shook himself and then walked swiftly out of the room. Alexander watched his youngest son walk out of the room amusement showing in his gentle compassionate face. He couldn't help but wonder what was on his son's mind. However, seeing as Rhince wasn't being helpful, Alexander left to find Jareth himself.

Jareth appeared in the room where he had left Cathrine. She had slid down the wall so that her chin rested on her knees, and her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Jareth walked over and slowly, gently sat down beside her.

"Cathrine?" He hesitantly put his leather clad hand on her shoulder. Lost in fear, and blood, and denial, Cathrine didn't feel his hand. Jareth gently opened the pint and pressed it into her lifeless hands. Cathrine stared at the ice cream, unseeing, crying, not comprehending. She noticed a flash out of the corner of her eye, but didn't turn her head. Nothing mattered anymore. Jareth made an elaborate flourish with his hand and produced a simple slivery spoon. When she made no move to take the spoon, Jareth gently pressed it into her cold, limp hand. She inadvertently held it, but barely. Cathrine stared at the ice cream, her tears falling into the container, melting. Slowly she moved. As soon as the rich chocolate hit her mouth, the tears escalated. Cathrine would have preferred something with a bit more mint, something with the flavor of cool, in it, but chocolate was a good second.

Rhince stood stunned in the doorway.

"Shh, it'll be ok. You're safe. No one is going to hurt you. Shhh."

Jareth's words murmured softly like a lullaby and intended to soothe this frightened child drifted to Rhince's ears. Rhince crossed the room without thinking and sat on the girl's other side. Her sobs wracked her frail body and in between sobs she still trembled violently. Jareth gently brushed her hair out of her face, trying desperately to soothe her. Rhince also gently whispered to her that it would be all right, that no one would hurt her.

Alexander was shocked to see his youngest son and the Goblin King attempting, and failing, to comfort the crying girl. Alexander walked over and crouched beside his son.

"What's wrong?"

Instead of his son's light baritone, the girl's voice, soft but thick with tears, replied unsteadily.

"They're dead. Both of them. And the blood! It's everywhere. Everywhere…" Her voice vanished in tears and chocolate. Soon after, she had finished the pint without even noticing what she was doing. She sat there, trembling slightly from tears and mostly from exhaustion. Her eyes were puffy red, but she had no tears left to cry. Once again she let her eyes slide slowly, hopelessly closed. When her breathing finally stopped hitching, and the spoon was about to fall from her limp hand, Jareth gently took the empty pint and spoon from her still, frail fingers. He lifted her easily into his arms and carried her to another room in the elegant suite he had brought her to.

"Jareth? Who is she?" Rhince's voice was barely above a whisper. He lived among humans for years, but he had never seen one in such pain. He tried to imagine what could cause him the pain this young girl was so plainly in. He tried, and failed.

Jareth led Alexander and Rhince to his study. He sighed. He knew he couldn't explain everything to them. Or to anyone really. How do you explain that a girl's parents were killed, murdered in her house, and she called him, someone she didn't even know existed, someone she didn't believe in, for help.