Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth.
Sarah Williams plopped down against the brick wall, whimpering like a child as she hugged her knees to her torso.
She had never been one for crying out of frustration. Normally, she'd yell or scream; only tearing up when she was extremely frightened or uncomfortable, but tonight's events had been the ultimate peak of disappointments and all-around crap building up over the last few years.
It had been a little over half a decade since her time in the Labyrinth and, as cliché as it sounded, it sure seemed like life had taken one step forward and two steps back. It was hard to decide where to begin...
Well, first of all, there was her family.
Although Sarah had learned to be a lot more patient and understanding with people during her 'adventure', her parents' character flaws hadn't changed one iota.
Her father remained distant and boring, despite her best efforts to be pleasant and engaging. She often wondered how the man ever remembered he had a daughter from day to day.
Her stepmother was a different story. Sarah got along with the woman much better now than before, but there was simply no getting around how little they had in common.
Irene Williams was a feminine socialite in every sense of the word. Nothing but shopping, makeup, clothes, shoes, hair, dieting and boys, boys, boys, boys, boys! And lord,was the woman nosy! Always telling her how to dress, how to speak, how and what to eat, and how to flirt with practically every eligible young man in sight!
Then there was Toby.
She was honestly at a loss with that kid. Never in her life had she seen such an unimaginative child!
Her half-brother had no time for make-believe nonsense. No, he was all about science and non-fiction books and realistic model kits. He'd even returned her Lancelot teddy bear when he turned three!
Of course Sarah knew there was nothing wrong with being serious and logical, but…it still bothered her how she couldn't remember the last time she'd heard Toby laugh like an ordinary, silly, care-free boy. You'd never guess he'd been to a magical land filled with goblins and fairies in a million years!
So far, Sarah had faithfully kept in touch with her three Labyrinth friends: Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus, and as the years went by, she began to realize that they were the only real friends worth having.
She'd tried to be more sociable in high school after her run, but her book smarts, established 'loner' persona and previous juvenile pursuits, such as dress up and pretend, had cemented her with an extremely unpopular status long ago, and any student with an ounce of sense steered clear of Sarah Williams if they didn't want to be ostracized.
No one was interested in making friends, at least not legitimately. Some pretended long enough to mooch off of her study skills and improve their grade point average or increase their own popularity by comparison.
In high school, Sarah got her first real strong taste of backstabbing and rejection.
College was better…and worse.
For starters, she'd made it into the Theater department of her local university…by the skin of her teeth.
The directors were not impressed with her acting skills and if she was lucky enough to actually get cast in a production, she was always given a non-speaking role that appeared in only one or two scenes. In theater class, her professors ignored her, but saw fit to mutter amongst themselves when they thought she couldn't hear:
"Her mother was such a brilliant stage actress. It's a shame she inherited so little of her talent."
"The girl is just wasting her time here."
"It's really embarrassing."
"Well…she's uh…tenacious, I'll give her that."
Poor Sarah loved acting so much, she tried to fill the void by auditioning at all the local community theaters.
Not a single one of them called her back.
At least she'd found a successful niche in Creative Writing class her second year. Her experiences in the Underground served her well in the area of ideas and she was fortunate enough to make a few friends that semester.
Thankfully, college students were (on average) generally nicer and you had a greater chance of finding friends that shared your special interests, but it didn't change the fact that she just didn't connect with any of them on a deep, personal level. Her naturally unfeminine tendencies made her female college friends keep their distance, and her subdued, but still drama queen attitude as well as her frequent aloofness made the boys less inclined to hang out with her and rarely ask for dates.
Not that she would have gone out with them anyway. They were all so…so normal.
But she didn't feel too discouraged by her lack of human companionship. Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus more than made up for it. Besides, how could she hope to make honest friendships with people when she could never be completely honest with them? She carried her time through the Labyrinth with her like a heavy locket around her neck.
A secret she could never reveal. What could she say?
"Hi, I'm Sarah Williams and guess what? Goblins and fairies are real, wanna meet some?"
She'd be shipped off to the looney bin in a second, or worse…they'd believe her and her mind kept thinking of scenes from the movie E.T. The idea of the government swooping in to poke and prod at her three friends made her skin crawl.
No, somehow she felt it was her duty to keep her mouth shut and protect the Labyrinth as best she could.
It's my world and I'll never share it with anyone! A selfish part of her brain would declare every time she watched a potential human friend sense her invisible barrier and ultimately give up on getting to know her better.
Still, there were a couple of people that stayed around. Her roommate Lydia, for one.
Sarah had met Lydia her third year of college when she'd changed dorms. She was a short, feisty blonde with brown eyes and an intricate butterfly tattoo on her left shoulder. She gave Sarah her space when she needed it and was always up for anything when she didn't. She never pushed, which Sarah greatly appreciated, and her bright personality and sassy humor made her a lot of fun to be with.
And then there was Andrew…the reason for the disaster that was tonight.
Andrew Clayton was a nice guy.
He really was. Sarah had met him in her first writing class and they'd formed a steady friendship. They loved discussing mythology together and he was also a book-worm.
She supposed he was rather cute: ultra-light brown hair, blue eyes, lean frame, but she'd never paid any notion to the idea of seriously dating him…until Irene caught wind of the acquaintance.
You'd think she had struck oil the way her stepmother carried on.
But the real reason why Irene was so excited was because Andrew was the only son of Dr. George Clayton, the dean to Trenton Academy; a very prestigious private school for the gifted where she was desperately hoping to enroll Toby.
A few weeks ago, when Sarah's dorm room was being fumigated for bedbugs, she 'd made the genius decision to bring Andrew over to her parents' house to work on their midterm project for their advanced creative writing class since she'd left quite a few of her childhood books at home.
Right as he was leaving, Andrew told her that, thanks to his father's generous donation to the college, his fraternity was getting a new house and after the opening ceremony (which his father was going to host), there was going to be an awesome party. Then he asked her if she wanted to go with him.
That was when Irene, who'd been eavesdropping and popping in and out of the room at random moments, came bursting from the kitchen and hastily accepted for her stepdaughter.
Before Sarah could even utter a single word of dissent, her stepmother had already rushed the poor boy out the door.
"Sarah, you don't know how great an opportunity this is for Toby." Irene had urged. "I just need you to make a good impression, that's all."
A good impression…humph!
Ever since Sarah had begrudgingly given her consent to this setup, Irene hadn't left her alone for a minute.
The poor girl hadn't gotten a say in anything!
"No, no, no! Those shoes aren't nearly high enough!"
"Honey you're so pale…this shade of foundation will fix that!"
"Ugh, your hair looks so much better when it's up instead of down, Sarah."
"Don't be ridiculous, this dress is perfect! It wouldn't kill you to look alluring once in a while."
Thankfully, Irene had to work late the night of the dance so she wouldn't be hovering over her head beforehand. The downside was that she'd promised Lydia $50 if she followed the strict instructions as to how she wanted her stepdaughter to look.
"She means well, babe." Lydia comforted as she zipped up the back of the dress Sarah was loathing more and more by the second.
"I look like a prostitute." She had complained as she glared at her reflection in the mirror.
"You do not." Her roommate argued, rolling her eyes. "You just think that because you don't normally wear this kind of outfit."
The dress Irene had picked was a short, spaghetti strap, hot pink ensemble with a low sweetheart neckline. A matching belt cinched up the waist and there was a tiny slit up the left side of the skirt.
"I still hate it." Sarah had grumbled in response.
It was too short.
It was too tight.
The color was all wrong.
She liked dresses that shimmered and flowed. With big skirts and long sleeves like…like the one…
"I'll admit that I wouldn't have picked this color for you," Lydia conceded, "but what would you have preferred?"
"I don't know." Sarah had shrugged as she tugged on the skirt for the hundredth time. "Maybe like a Victorian gown? You know, like the ones people wear at a fancy Masquerade ball?"
She had flinched when her friend snorted with laughter.
"I hate to break it to ya, Cinderella," she then giggled in a fake British accent, "but a frat party is way different than a ball. Just relax, it'll be fun!"
After Lydia had slipped out with her boyfriend to the movies once she'd completed her masterpiece, Sarah summoned her friends through the bedroom mirror to have one last gripe session.
"…and it's not that I don't like Andrew." She tried to explain as she leaned on Ludo's arm. "It's just that he's not…quite right for me."
"I do not wish to seem rude, my lady," Sir Didymus had hedged, "but it seems you believe that all of your potential male suitors are not 'quite right'."
"I ain't no expert on relationships," Hoggle grunted, "but ya might be surprised if ya just give it a chance. I know the circumstances ain't to yer likin', but it still could be a blessin' in disguise. Besides, Didymus is right. What are ya waitin' for anyway? Yer not getting' any younger."
As Sarah made her way downstairs to meet Andrew in the common room a few minutes later, she had tried not to think of a certain mysterious and dashing man in a royal blue tailcoat from six years ago.
The evening had been a catastrophe, as she knew it would be.
Dr. George Clayton had barely glanced at her during the dedication ceremony and he'd even addressed her as 'Sally' two times in a row! She'd barely even got a chance to say goodbye before the man left in his Mercedes and Andrew dragged her into the new frat house for the party.
Things went downhill fast from there.
The music was blaring instead of enchanting, everyone looked like they were trying to get to third base with each other, the smell of pot was oppressive, beer sloshed and occasionally, food flew through the air.
This was supposed to be fun?
Not even an hour went by before Andrew was completely shitfaced. When he'd picked her up, though he still mostly behaved like his normal, polite self, she'd immediately noticed that he would stand closer to her than usual and touch her unnecessarily. His drunken state made this annoying little development a thousand times more unbearable. She'd lost count of how many times she'd excused herself to the bathroom to get away from all of his clumsy groping.
She'd finally had enough when she, once again, returned from the bathroom to find her date awkwardly dancing with another girl. Once he saw Sarah approaching, he stumbled towards her with a big dopey grin on his face and snaked an arm around her waist, spilling a good amount of his drink on her dress. In a matter of seconds, he then leaned in close to her face and reached for her chest with his free hand.
A pair of mismatched eyes flashed through her memory.
At once, every nerve ending in her body suddenly screamed in protest and she shoved her intoxicated friend away and took off sprinting for the nearest exit, wiping in vain at the brimming tears.
Now here she was outside, on the ground, in the dark, wearing a stained dress that made her feel like a slut instead of a princess, crying her eyes out, all alone.
It had finally dawned on her that ever since the Labyrinth, her life had been a constant stream of mediocrity.
She wasn't happy…hell, she couldn't even say she was content!
Was this what she'd given up her dreams for?
Was this growing up?
To top it all off, was the real reason behind her panic attack when Andrew had tried to kiss her.
She didn't want him to.
She didn't want any guy to.
Ever.
There was only one being whom she could ever fathom allowing that privilege…but he was far beyond her reach now.
Yes, Sarah had come to terms with her feelings for the Goblin King long ago. Every single thing she found attractive in the opposite sex matched up with a precedent he had already established: wild blonde hair, blue or hazel eyes, thin lips, roman noses, lean physiques.
If the Labyrinth was a secret she carried around her neck, Jareth was a ten-times-more-massive secret she carried inside her heart.
Every day, his voice haunted her thoughts. His words teased her imagination with hinted promises of a better life; where anything she wanted would lay at her fingertips, where she would be truly happy.
Sometimes she'd dream of him.
His gentle caresses and soothing, yet passionate promises made her ache with desire, but when the morning came and she opened her eyes…he was gone.
It was too late now.
Those terrible dreams and his perfect absence in the last six years despite Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus's constant visits was proof enough.
She'd had her golden opportunity and she'd refused it. Turned it down cold to be trapped in a magic-less world where no one understood her. Where she was called talentless and apparently lacked any sense of modern fashion and taste. Where she had to settle for boring, foolish human boys.
She, who had once danced in the arms of a king and then conquered his kingdom!
Her eyes slid shut in defeat.
I can't help it, I've been spoiled. I don't want to settle for second best! I want my fairy tale back!
"I want it all back." She sniffed pitifully. "God, I just wish I had one more chance."
"Hello, precious."
She jumped at the voice. Her breath caught harshly and her heart pummeled against her ribcage. It took all the willpower she possessed to keep her eyes firmly closed.
Not now! She mentally begged.
She was already at her wit's end. She couldn't handle the crushing anguish of one of those dreams right now! She concentrated hard and could almost see him in all his sparkly glory, smirking at her like a fox in a hen house.
But the vision was blurry and too far away…how fitting.
"It's wonderful to see you again, Sarah."
She swallowed the dry lump in her throat.
He sounded so real and so close, like he was kneeling right in front of her. Soft, leather-covered hands suddenly rested on her knees causing goose-bumps to rise along her skin.
She felt the tears resurface.
Why did it have to feel so real?
She bit her lip, refusing to hope only to be heartbroken when she woke up.
"Sarah, open your eyes."
A wave of pain flooded her at his request. She bit her lip and shook her head.
No way, no way was she going to break the spell. She'd keep him here as long as she could. She never wake up again, if that's what it took.
"Sarah, open your eyes." The husky, aristocratic voice repeated with an amused chuckle. "Look at me, precious."
She shook her head again, harder.
"No."
"Why ever not?"
"Because," she moaned helplessly as the tears escaped and flowed down her cheeks, "when I open my eyes, you're never there. For six years, it's always just been a dream. I wake up, and you're gone."
She gasped when a pair of lips pressed against her brow.
"I assure you, precious," the voice purred, "this is no dream. I am here and I will not leave your side unless you ask me to. Now open your eyes, my darling."
Blindly reaching up, she grasped his hands in her own and squeezed them as tight as she could.
"Don't leave." She begged the phantom, praying that her faith would finally pay off.
"Never."
Slowly, she opened her eyes and blinked away the obscuring moisture.
There he was, on bended knee, smiling devilishly at her. His dark cloak billowed around him and his wild hair fluttered in the night breeze.
"Jareth."
Sarah clumsily launched herself into his arms, buried her face in his neck and sobbed. She was vaguely aware of him lifting her up off the ground and placing one arm under her knees, maneuvering her to a more comfortable position against him.
"Shh…shh, my love…I'm here…shh…there, there, precious…I've missed you dreadfully…it's alright, now, Sarah…shh…"
As she gradually calmed down, she marveled at the feeling of joy and fulfillment coursing through her veins. Not since she'd solved the Labyrinth had she felt so powerful, so capable.
She could do better than this life.
Much better.
With Jareth's help, she did have another chance. A chance at the life she was meant to have all along and she'd be damned if she was going to waste it.
"Jareth? Take be back with you." She whispered, fingering the black collar of his poet's shirt. "Take me back to the Labyrinth. Back to Hoggle and Sir Didymus and Ludo and all the goblins. Take me home."
"Do you wish it absolutely, precious?" He asked carefully. "Do you mean it?"
"Yes," Sarah nodded, "I do."
She quickly pressed her lips against his.
The all-over tingling sensation that followed a first kiss with one's soul-mate carried a delightful promise of things to come.
"I wish the Goblin King would take me away with him, right now."
"Then what's said is said."
A/N: Just a little idea that inspired me. Show me the love!