A/N: I wasn't sure what genre to put this under, because I haven't decided if this will end happy or sad, or maybe a little of both. I'm in the midst of the last chapter (there will be 3 ...I think, haha). I'm not sure it would be accurate to place it under romance or angst although there will be elements of both. It's definitely not an upbeat tale.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the idea for this story, although it has probably been done many times over.

Chapter 1

"Goodbye, Sawah."

Startled, she quickly turned away from the mirror to seek out the reality of the reflection, but the great beast was nowhere in sight. Not a little confused, she slowly turned her gaze back to the mirror.

"And remember fair maiden, should you need us…" The fox-like creature faded like a wishful dream, only to be replaced by the equally dream-like materialization of another dear friend.

"Yes, should you need us," the dwarf repeated, slightly melancholy, "for, any reason at all…"

"I need you Hoggle," she said immediately in a timid voice. Her heart contracted painfully in her chest.

"Y-Yeh do?"

"I don't know why, but, every now and again in my life, for no reason at all, I need you. All of you."

The dwarf's eyes widened in surprise, face lighting up with pure glee. "Yeh do? Well, why didn't ya say so!"

And this time, when Sarah turned around they were there, all of them. All of her friends, including those for which she held questionable affection, burst out in cheer, party streamers, and dance. Her heart leapt at the sight and she dove into the merry fray to embrace first Hoggle, then Didymus, then the great creature Ludo. Then she went back to Hoggle, lifted him off his feet and spun him around in a circle. They were both grinning from ear to ear. Oh how she loved the feel of their furs and fabrics, the faint musk of animals and goblins! She loved the sound of their excited chatter and their valiant attempts to bawl out a semblance of a tune. These were her friends, and even though she had finally, finally acted out the concluding lines of "Labyrinth" with perfection, it did not mean the story was completely over. She would call on them every now and again, and they would answer, because they were her friends.

Someone threw a goblin helmet in the air and Sarah laughingly hopped over the crowd to catch it, lest it fall and dent the floor.

"I'll catch it for thee, milady!" cried Sir Didymus, leaping onto her shoulder and stretching out his tiny paws. But the diameter of the helmet was at least half the entire height of her noble knight, and as soon as his paws clutched the rim, he pitched forward off her shoulder to land ungracefully on the floor. The helmet rolled away amid uproarious laughter and Sarah scooped him up with a sympathetic grin.

"You alright, Sir Didymus?"

"It takes more than a mere tumble to vanquish me, fair maiden," he scoffed, even while rubbing his back. "In fact, I—"

A soft, but firm sound suddenly ripped through the sounds of silly partying. It was jarring, terribly out of place, and Sarah's vision went out of focus for a good few seconds. The sound came again and she shook her head. Someone was knocking on her door. A brief flash of supreme ire flooded through her, but then disappeared almost as quickly as it had come.

"Come in," she said simply.

Her father opened the door a crack and peered in cautiously. He saw the usual disarray of toys scattered among numerous books, scraps of paper, and photos of which he rarely took a close look. Past experience had taught him better. He noted with curiosity that the vanity in front of the mirror was rather spartan compared to the last time he had seen it, but then girls were always rearranging their trinkets so he gave it little thought.

"I just wanted to thank you for watching Toby tonight," he said, peering at his daughter. She was squatting on the floor with a stuffed toy that resembled a fox wearing an eye-patch.

"Yeah." She reached under her vanity to retrieve something that looked like a miniature plastic medieval helmet, and placed it on a rather strange-looking toy. Robert thought it might have been a goblin. He was shocked when his daughter looked up at him and smiled briefly. "I'm sorry about my behavior earlier. I was…a little snot. From now on, though, things will be different." She carefully placed the fox creature on her shelf and further astonished her father by walking up to him and placing a quick peck on his cheek. "Good night dad." She paused, then added, "Tell her I said good night too."

The expression of utter amazement on her father's face was the last thing Sarah saw as he nodded mutely, closing the door quietly behind him. Her eyes swept around the now screamingly silent room, its inhabitants no longer animated by her imagination. It was almost cruel how her latest and probably last enactment of a play had also contained the most vivid scenes she had ever entertained in her mind—she could still recall the absolute terror of fleeing from the whirling mass of blades in the tunnels. It was cruel because there had been very strange moments where she was sure she wouldn't have been able to break out of her imaginings, as if she hadn't been acting, and the world of "Labyrinth" was existent. It was cruel because this play had felt so real when with all others she had always been aware that she was acting, both her part and the parts of the other characters. Not so this time. This time—

Sarah sighed and flopped bonelessly onto her bed. This time, although she had terrifyingly lost the ability to distinguish reality from her imagination until the end, she had also learned that she couldn't live the life of her heroines on paper. Toby was real. And in a fantasy that had felt as if it just might have crossed over into actuality, losing him because of her childish selfishness was too horrifying to contemplate.

"So cruel…" her lips shaped the words soundlessly. An image of a cold, arrogant, yet tormented countenance ghosted through her mind. Her eyes were suddenly prickling with a burning heat that brimmed and spilled over onto her cheeks, disappearing rapidly into her pillow. It was cruel because the wearer of that countenance had offered her everything she had ever wanted, and she suspected that if she had taken the crystal, she would have discovered that the past thirteen hours in the Labyrinth had not been a fantasy at all.

But the price was Toby. She could not sacrifice an innocent child even for the possibility that her fantasies would be made real. Her watery eyes sought out the Goblin King figurine on her vanity—and saw nothing. For a minute she stopped breathing; she had not put the figure away as she had the musical miniature in a ball gown. Where—?

Then slowly, slowly her heart started beating again, and a shuddering laugh tore its way past her throat. It did not really matter where it went, did it? Whether its disappearance was a confirmation of her suspicions or not, the way to her dreams were as broken as the room in which she had rejected them. She had reality now, and it wasn't as if the thought was entirely unwelcome. For once she was sure she had done something substantial, something right. True, maybe her playacting of "Labyrinth" had not been an act at all, and maybe it had. She would probably never know if she had turned away from a fantasy that somehow might have been reality. It wasn't fair.

Sarah closed her eyes and recalled the sight of her baby brother in contented sleep. She smiled softly. No, it wasn't fair.

But that's the way it was.

Filtered sunlight through curtained windows elicited a groggy moan from the figure on the bed. Sarah rolled onto her back and gazed blearily at the wall, momentarily confused and disoriented. The wall was completely bare—what had happened to her shelves of stuffed toys, and the M.C. Escher poster that hung next to them? Then the muted sounds of Saturday morning cartoons drifted from beyond her bedroom door, reminding her that she was not in fact a 15-year old girl living in her parents' house. She was nearly a decade older, paying rent for a cozy little apartment, and currently babysitting Toby for a few days while her father and stepmother were redecorating their house. She placed a hand over her face and rubbed it wearily. This was the second or third time she'd had the dream since her parents had announced their plans to redecorate, likely due to the transitioning of some of her childhood toys from the house to her apartment. Sarah had boxed her toys nearly ten years ago and had not looked at them since. But now…

Come on, they're just toys, she thought irritably, pulling herself into a sitting position and scowling at the offending boxes. They sat innocently in a corner of her room. That they represented her last and most vivid foray into childish fantasy was hardly reason for them to plague her dreams…right?

Muttering under her breath, she shook her head and climbed out of bed to get dressed. "They're just toys," she repeated. But a glance in a mirror plainly reflected the uneasy shadows that flitted behind her troubled green eyes.