CoffeeKris: I'm warning you off the bat. This is a very personal fic to me. It's a shameless self insert, but I've been having a shitty time as of late so I make no apologies. If you don't like it, it doesn't matter, I just wanted this out there for me.
Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth or it's characters.
Jareth regarded the scribe as she downed a forth of her bottle of rum. He crossed his arms and spoke with cool indifference that belied his concern.
"You can't drink your problems away Kris."
The scribe turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm not drinking them away Jareth, I'm making depression stew. Easy enough recipe. One cup of self loathing, six tablespoons of emotional insecurity, a dash of depression, all mixed together with a heap of alcohol. Let simmer and enjoy."
She took another swig from her bottle which was now two thirds empty. Jareth glared at her.
"You're acting like a pathetic lush."
"Fuck you," she took another swig
"How very mature."
She glared at him.
"Fuck off Jareth!"
"Can't think of a better response than that Kris? Come now, what sort of writer are you?" Jareth walked closer to her and she opened her mouth to repeat herself but he cut her off.
"Just what is it that has you marinating yourself?"
She laughed bitterly.
"You want to know what it is Goblin King? You really want to know? I turn nineteen next week. Nineteen, and what do I have to show for it? Nothing! I finally went on my first date only to have him never call again. I went on another date, same damn thing happened! I wasted my first kiss on a friend, I thought he wouldn't hurt me and then what does he do? He tells me he just wants to be friends! The next guy I fall for leads me to think he returns my affection but then he runs me over with the 'let's just be friends' bus as well! I'm ignored by the people around me, my friends at the other end of town conveniently forget I exist and party on without me continuously, I hardly get to see Char and Lars anymore, Kait ditches me, Pia criticizes me, Papa's still in the hospital and none of the family seem to give a flying fuck, Grandpa and Rita can't be bothered to visit me and to top it all off I have fucking depression!"
Jareth frowned at her.
"You seem to forget you have people that care about you,"
Kris glared at him.
"I assume you're referring to my new friends? They barely know me . Give it a few weeks, they'll get tired of me. My parents? There's nothing they can do, so I refuse to burden them with anything. You? Hell, you're only here because I'm not writing your story. Forgive me for not feeling like writing fluff when my whole god damn life is shit."
Her voice cracked and she rubbed at her eyes. Jareth walked forward and sent her rum to a dark oubliette, she didn't need any more alcohol in her system.
"You're drunk, irrational, and depressed. Go to bed."
"What's the point?" She held her head in her hands. "What's the fucking point of anything?"
Jareth sighed.
"You're not doing yourself any good wallowing in your own misery. God to bed."
She sighed brokenly and stood making her way shakily to her bed, Jareth steadied her and pulled a blanket over her. He cast a spell to give her a peaceful sleep. Watching the scribe looking so small and vulnerable, curled up in her bed sheets with tearstains on her face, he wished he could give her the offer of her dreams. Unfortunately, bound by Fae law, he was unable to and even if he could, he thought sadly, most of them were already broken.
