***I don't own Labyrinth, although I wouldn't mind if I did. ***

This story is post-Sarah, maybe 30-40 years since she beat the Labyrinth. This centers around her daughter, Jacqueline (the French Jacqueline, not Jack-e-lynn) and her exploration of self-discovery after the tragic death of her father. Not-asshole-JarethxOC, rated M for themes of depression and suicide and eventually sex.

I woke to my mother's cackling laughter and sighed. My fat, yellow chihuahua, Twinkie, slowly crawled his way out from under my blankets and followed me out of my room and into the bathroom. He laid on the floor outside the shower as I bathed myself, and when I went back to my room to dress, he ventured off to go outside. My blue tabby cat, Jason, watched me dress with flicking tail and alert eyes. I eyed him warily as I pulled up my raggedly-cutoff shorts. The strings tickled my legs and I could feel Jason's eyes watching them, could sense his muscles tensing for the kill. They were ridiculously cut, actually longer on the sides than in between my thighs due to the thigh death they had experienced before I cut them. My mother called them my "Daisy Dukes" but I didn't care. Good shorts are hard to find in my size, let alone good ones that I actually think make me look kinda sexy.

I stepped quietly out of my room and glided down the stairs to the kitchen where I took a large green apple from the counter. My mother was still laughing and chatting with someone from the living room. Curious, I tiptoed my way to the door and listened.

"Oh, that was such a long time ago," said my mother's tired old voice.

"Indeed it was, Sarah." I frowned. This was a man's voice. A youngish man. I looked across the hallway to the urn containing my father's ashes and narrowed my eyes. "And yet pesky little Hedgehog ("Hoggle," said my mother) refuses to give me any privacy. Claims I'm plotting to ruin your life again." They both chuckled.

"Oh, Jareth, it seems we have company. You can come in, dear."

I sighed and pulled the hood of my hoodie up, poking my head through. I waved my apple halfheartedly.

"Jack, I want you to meet someone." My mother gestured towards the stranger in the chair with the back to me. I shook my head and tried to back out of the room when she rose and took my hand. "Yes, come on." She pulled me around to the front of the chair and I blanched slightly. The man sitting in it was unearthly beautiful. I swallowed dryly as I drank in his mismatched blue and brown eyes, his messy , short hair, his creamy skin, the grace with which he held himself. "Jareth, this is my daughter, Jacqueline. Jack, this is one of my oldest friends, Jareth."

Jareth rose from the chair with absurd ease and bowed. He took my hand in his, and brushed his lips against my knuckles. I shuddered involuntarily. "It's a pleasure, Jacqueline."

I swallowed again and nodded shakily, fighting a blush from rising in my cheeks. I hurried quickly out of the room, Twinkie following me from the dog door.

"So. That's her then?"

"Yes. That's her."

"She certainly is a strange creature. But, then again, I suppose she takes after her mother." Jareth smiled at Sarah as he sat back down, crossing his legs.

Sarah chuckled and reclaimed the couch, shooing away the cat. "Yes, I suppose she does."

"And such blue eyes. I suppose she gets those from her father?"

"Yes, and her singing power as well. I wish you could hear her sing, Jareth. I promise you there is nothing like it in the Underground. There's hardly anything like it here in the Aboveground."

"Well, why not ask her to sing?" Jareth tilted his head inquisitively. Sarah had missed that.

"She doesn't speak. She hasn't spoken a word since the accident." She looked down at her loosely clasped hands and felt the tears threaten to well up again. She could sense Jareth's understanding nod. "I have a favor to ask of you, Jareth."

"Anything, Sarah. As always, I am your slave, denial or no denial." He smiled gently at the woman.

Sarah looked up at him and brushed her dark brown hair behind her ear. "I wish... Oh I don't know how to explain this. She isn't fit for life up here, not in the mental state she's in. It's been six years now and medications don't work, nor does therapy. I'm afraid for her life. I'm afraid that one day I'm going to wake up and she's going to be lying in her bed... gone. So, Jareth, I would ask of you that you take my daughter Underground and help her through her pain. I know there's nothing more I can do."

Jareth smiled sadly and crossed the room to the aging woman. He knelt in front of her and brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "You only have to say the words, my darling." He smiled up at her, taking her hands in his. "Your heart may not be mine, but I'm still happy to do anything you desire, sweetest Sarah. You need only say the words."

Sarah giggled softly and shakily. "I wish... I wish the Goblin King would help my daughter be well again."

Jareth's smile widened and he leaned down, kissing the hands of the Champion. "Your wish is my command, my dear."

And Sarah watched as Jareth disappeared before she went to the staircase. "Jack, honey, are you up there?" She listened for a moment but heard only the light thud of Twinkie jumping from Jack's bed and scuttling to the top of the stairs. He stood looking down at her, wagging his tail happily. She ascended the craeky old staircase and looked into Jack's room. The girl was gone. She crossed to the desk and picked up the well-worn copy of The Labrynth that Sarah had given Jack and held it to her heart. She looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes. "Keep her safe, Jareth."

So, yeah, first chapter. I'm sorry if it's not that great. It's been ages since I tried writing anything that wasn't grammar-less poetry. I also don't have word so my spelling will probably be not 100% right all the time. Please review.