Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Disney and are only used for fan related purposes.

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The Sparrow

When Sarah disappears, it's up to David to go looking for her.
With only a simple clue to where she could have gone, and the understanding that he's in over his head,
it won't take him too long to discover that his sister wasn't the only one with a secret.

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She didn't start running until she reached the front of the tenement building.

Up until that point she had kept calm. Her hands were folded demurely before her, her head lowered so that she wouldn't make any accidental eye contact. There were neighbors all around and the last thing she needed was for someone like poor Mrs. Godwin to remember that they had met that afternoon. Her father would worry, her mother would fret; they would be better of if they had no idea what happened to her.

The calm didn't last. Once she was inside the building her composure cracked and the façade was lifted. She hastily lifted her eyes, searching the darkness of the stairwell for any sleepers, and she ran. The ladylike grin she was accustomed to wearing slid into a look of determination—determination mingled with fear—as she picked up the folds of her skirt with her hands and raced up the steps.

The climb was a quick one. Her heeled shoes made a racket as she pounded the steps to her family's apartment but no one dared poke their heads out of their own holes. She was alone in the stairwell and she was thankful for it. There wasn't enough time as it was; there would be even less if she was stopped during her hurried flight.

Her fingers grasped the coarse fabric of her dress, lifting the skirt high so she wouldn't trip, but her right hand was folded tightly. There was a small piece of paper tucked inside her fist and she was taking great care not to lose it. A faceless messenger had delivered it to her in the crowded marketplace and, though she never stopped to look at it, she knew exactly what would be written on the scrap.

Someone had shoved it into her hand and fled before she even had the chance to react. But as soon as the tiny object was in her possession she did react—with only a simple apology to her mother for forgetting some insignificant thing from the apartment, she turned on her heel and began the short walk back to the tenement building where they lived. Somehow she knew it would eventually come to this and she was ready. Or, at least, as ready as she could be…

She almost lost count, and she didn't realize it until she was halfway up the steps that led to the floor above hers. Hurriedly, she ran back down before flinging herself towards the front door. The lock was old and rusty and offered no resistance to her panic. With barely half her effort the door swung in; she entered the apartment and quickly slammed the door behind her. Just in case.

The running didn't stop when she was home. If anything it was more upsetting just being in the apartment—after all, she was sure that he knew where she lived. If he was able to spot her from within the market's crowd, then he would have no problem finding her in the one sanctuary she thought she had.

Her stomach tightened at the thought of him, and the palm of her hand burned. That scrap of paper was pressed against her skin. She wondered for a second if she should just throw it away but quickly decided she couldn't. Not only would it probably anger him but the less she acknowledged his presence, the better. Besides, what would her family think if they found the note?

They would never understand. They wouldn't be able to. Hell, she wasn't even sure she really understood what was happening and it was her fault. Wasn't it?

She kept her right hand folded around the bit of paper as she ran to her corner of the apartment. As quickly as she could, without losing the scrap, she reached under her cot and took out a satchel that had been stowed there. She would have had to be a fool not to have prepared for this moment; she was no fool and the partially packed bag echoed that.

The bag was faded and covered with dust but it was sturdy and held three of her skirts. A blouse or two had been stowed inside, plus her spare chemise and a handful of ribbons. She hurriedly added her favorite hairbrush, a pair of stockings and the small purse that held all of her savings before deciding she was finished. There was barely any time and it was enough for her to live off of until she could come back.

If she could come back.

Still panicky, she thought she saw, out of the corner of her dark eyes, a looming figure in the window. She froze immediately, the sound of her breath picking up as the paranoia set in. It was one thing to constantly feel the need to look over your shoulder; it was another for someone to actually be there.

There were shadows everywhere and guilt dogged her every step. She had tried her best to outrun it, to hide from the shadows she had made herself, but it was no use.

That's when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway. Her senses were heightened out of fear and the clomping of the shoes broke the spell the silhouette had on her. There wasn't enough time to stand there, frozen and afraid. It was about that time of day when her brothers came home from school and she would be sunk if they spotted her during her attempted escape. Between them at the door or someone at the window, she would take the window.

Her left hand reached for the curtain in front of the window. She pulled it, an intake of breath matching the motion, but no one was there. The fire escape was empty. She was alone. She cocked her head and listened for the sound of closer footsteps. They had faded too. No one was there—not yet, anyway.

The relief was overwhelming. It cascaded over her in waves, letting her forget for the moment what she was doing. But then she saw the satchel sitting on her bed and she remembered.

Without another thought, she slung the satchel over her shoulder. It wasn't as heavy as it could have been and she was glad. She had a long walk in front of her; a heavy pack would only slow her down. But, before she could head back out onto the street, there was still one thing she had to do.

Though she hadn't thought it would happen so soon, she was expecting this and they had made a plan for when it did happen. She wouldn't be without help for long and, if she was lucky, she wouldn't have to confront him at all.

Her mother, she was sure, had wondered why the girl needed the envelope and the paper when she asked for it but she never said. She was happy for that because she didn't know how she would have explained it, especially since she was the only one of her siblings who didn't go to school. Instead, she thankfully accepted the piece of stock and the envelope her mother had found for her without even offering an explanation. She hadn't had any need for it yet and she'd hidden it in the bottommost dresser drawer.

Now, though, she dropped to her knees and started to rummage through the drawer. There were articles of clothing and pieces of lace amid various odds and ends thrown in the drawer. She had no patience for it. Without really paying attention to what she was doing she picked much of the drawer's contents up and tossed it to the side.

"Ah ha," she murmured victoriously when she spied the corner of the envelope sticking out. Using her free hand she reached for it and pulled it out. She was still rushing—no one had entered the apartment yet but she knew her good fortune wouldn't last—and, in her haste, she tore the corner of the sheaf.

She ignored it and quickly grabbed one of her brother's fancy pens from the top of the dresser. The exact message had been ingrained into her memory over the course of the last fortnight and she hurriedly scrawled it onto the sheet. The ink blotted once, right on the edge of the last word, but it didn't matter. He would know what the message meant.

After shaking it a few times, she folded the note in half but stopped before she had put it in the envelope. She had an idea.

The scrap of paper that faceless messenger had delivered was still in her hand. She knew she couldn't leave it behind because she didn't know who would find it but she didn't want to hold onto the reminder, either.

Before she could think better of it, she slipped the scrap into the folded note she had written and then slid the note into the envelope. She made sure to address the front of the envelope, confident that it would find its way to its intended recipient. She just hoped that no one would read it before he did.

That was all that was left to do. She couldn't leave a note for her family—she didn't know how to put in words exactly what was happening—and, even if she could, she didn't want them knowing, any how. She had gotten herself into this mess, somehow, and it was up to her to get herself out.

Then, with one last, quick glance around her home, she secured the satchel on her shoulder and ran back out of through the front door of the apartment. In her hurry, the door did not shut fully behind her. She never noticed. By the time the door had swung back in, she had ran halfway down the first stairwell.

She didn't stop running until she reached the front of the tenement building.

There was no sign of her mother or her brothers and she was relieved. To be on the safe side, though, she turned left once she was on the street. None of them would be coming that way and it would buy her some time. Maybe. After all, she never really knew where he was or where he could be…

She gulped and gripped her bag. It was hard to think that only a year ago she was an innocent, naïve girl, content to sew doilies and tat lace until something better happen to her. Now it had and she was unaware of how to handle it. In a way, she knew, she was still that naïve child, knowing nothing and unaware of what really lurked in the world.

However, if there was one thing that she learned in the time that had passed since the summer before, it was this: don't jump out of the nest unless you were prepared to fly.

As Sarah half-walked, half-ran down the avenue, she had the vague sensation that she had jumped long ago but only now was beginning to fall.

Author's Note: Well, I didn't really know if I wanted to start this. But, after Pick Your Poison ended, I really wanted to work on another 1st person POV story. I decided to give Skittery a reprieve as I chose David as my next target. I feel like the Jacobs family gets the short end of the stick in most fan fiction so I thought I'd try to tackle a couple of them. And since I kept getting snippets of dialogue and a couple of really intriguing OC's kept demanding to be written, I decided to start this story.

As you can tell from this first bit, Sarah's going to play a big part but mainly off screen. After this prologue, everything will be in David's POV and it will be... interesting. He has a voice of his own and quite the story to tell. I love a good mystery and I think that's the direction this will take. To say anything else might just give it away ;)

-- stress, 04.04.08