I do not own Labyrinth, it's characters, or it's storyline. Please enjoy~

Manhandling a large piece of luggage out of the cab, she sighed and brushed her hair away from her face. Looking up at the beautiful white house...the one that had been a cage all her childhood. The one she was running back to now. Her (step)mother held Jay in her arms, bouncing him up and down and murmuring to him in babytalk. "Keep the change," she murmured to the cabbie, handing him a $20. He sped off, leaving her on the damp curb of the lawn. Sighing again, she picked up the luggage and walked it into the house.

"Thanks for letting me stay here, Mom," she said, turning then to drag the large, cumbersome thing up the stairs.

"It's the least I could do," her mother replied, watching her struggle up the stairs. "You got that?"

"Yeah, I got it."

Bumping it against her knees all the way to her old room to open the door. It smelled cold, unused, and...lonely. She threw the large suitcase on the floor and went back down the stairs, pushing her hair behind her ears as she went. She gathered Jay from the arms of the older woman. "It's just temporary. Didn't need him being exposed to that sort of...thing. Will dad be home soon?"

"He should be," her mother replied, standing up and kissing her forehead. "I'm so glad to see you, Sarah."

Later that evening, after a warm but slightly tense dinner with her father, Sarah had begun to tuck her son into the crib that had once been Toby's. Mentioned boy popped his head into the room to make faces at the sleepy little one. "Get out," Sarah scolded, pushing him. "You'll rile him all up. I'll never get him to sleep."

"Whatever," Toby scoffed, flipping his hair to the side. "Maybe you shouldn't let him go to sleep. Some goblins might get him!" He waggled his fingers at her.

Sarah replied by rolling her eyes and shutting the door behind him. However, his mention of the goblins (and the insinuation towards their ruler) made her chest feel tight — a feeling she chose to ignore and continued getting ready for bed. Sarah would have been lying if she had said she hadn't thought of the Labyrinth often. And by often, she meant almost constantly.

Her friends from the perilous maze had visited her often during the remainder of her childhood, but as she grew up, she had less and less time for them, until she realized she hadn't been thinking of them at all. It had saddened her greatly at the time, as she considered the Labyrinth to be the crowning jewel of her existence (save for Jay). However, she reasoned, there was a time and place for daydreams and grand adventures, and she was an adult now. Because of mitigating circumstances, she had once again found herself in her parent's home, as out of place as she had used to feel. Smiling slightly, Sarah brushed her hand along the walls, touching old stuffed animals and dolls that she used to read to.

She walked slowly over to the window and, with a lunge, attempted to pull it up and open. It didn't budge. Straightening up and giving an approving nod, she walked back to her bed and got in, listening for Jay's even breathing. Allowing herself to close her eyes, she began to drift. She reassured herself again. Magic was for children and storybooks. It had been 13 years, why would anyone bother her now? They wouldn't. She was safe. What was there to be afraid of? She conquered it once, why not again?

Sarah's dreams that night were colorful, filled with mysterious music and faint laughter and the illusion that there was a draft in the room. Scaring herself awake at dawn, she looked over to see Jay squirming and about to begin to cry. Glancing at the window before taking him in her arms, it looked as undisturbed as it was before. She shook her head at herself, appalled. What a fool she was becoming.

The following day, Sarah's step mother insisted that she go out and spend some time by herself. "You've had your hands full taking care of this precious devil, you owe it to yourself!"

Sarah smiled, watching Jay gurgle happily. She suspected it was just another ploy to spoil her little son with treats and toys but he looked so happy. "Don't feed him too much or he'll get sick," she said, before pulling her thick hair over her shoulder and swinging the door closed behind her. She'd decided to go look at the local department stores, maybe get a cup of coffee, go to a book store. Things she hadn't done in a long time. After arriving, browsing through aisles of fluffy clothing she wouldn't dream of wearing, much less afford, shamelessly flirting with the barista and sipping her scalding coffee, she found herself perusing the dark, boring books in the back of the store. Shaking herself out of her random daze, she looked at her watch. It was 1:45, almost 2...she needed some lunch, where was her...?

Looking outside absentmindedly, she gasped. "Oh, god, no!" she moaned, running closer to the windows. It was raining. Pouring, actually. The thick drops were already making small lakes in the parking lot. "Shit," she cursed. She considered running home...but it would take a while. Shrugging her shoulders, she happily resigned herself to waiting it out in the dark and spicy-smelling bookstore. Returning to some other shelves, she pulled a few random volumes with slightly interesting titles, found a corner, and cracked a cover open.

Seemingly, within minutes, her eyes felt strained. She heard the sound of heavy boots approaching. An employee rounded the corner, flicking on a lamp near her. "Wouldn't want you ruining your eyesight now, would we?" he asked. Sarah furrowed her brow. Ruin her eyesight? It wasn't nearly that late to turn lights on, was it...?

A quick horrifying check of her watch confirmed that indeed, it was time to turn on the lights. 5:23. Scrambling up, Sarah made for the entrance, only to see in dismay that the rain had continued. She hadn't meant to stay the whole day out. Leaving Jay alone with her step mother that long wasn't polite. Grumbling in annoyance, Sarah pulled her thin jacket and scarf up over her head and made a break for it out the door and into the downpour. In the end, she only ran for a few blocks, then slowed down. She obviously wouldn't beat it. So she joined it. Eventually she began to enjoy the noise as the cars whooshed by, the chill of the raindrops down her back.

When she arrived home, she was drenched. "Hi! I'm so sorry I'm late, I lost track of time!"

"In the kitchen!" her step mother called, and Sarah entered to see the older woman stirring a pot of something on the stove. "I'm making spaghetti."

"Wonderful, I'm starving," Sarah commented, beginning to strip off her outerwear. Then she glanced around. "Where's Jay? I'm sorry he's so bother —"

Her mother waved the spoon at her. "Hush. He's an absolute gem. He was sitting out there in the living room, watching the rain for a while and playing with some blocks."

Sarah got up and tentatively made her way back into the living room. She had just been in here. "Jay?" she called, looking around. There were the blocks. There was Thomas the Tank engine. There was a sock. But there was no little baby boy.

"Sweetie? Where are you hiding?" Sarah asked, looking behind the couch and the other chairs. After scouring the living room, Sarah felt her lungs contract. She tried to laugh at herself. He just wandered off. He was curious. Out of habit, she called, "Mom? Are there any windows open?"

"No, I closed them all when the storm hit! Why?"

But Sarah knew.

She felt it in her gut, then in her throat. She felt the boiling truth scorching her insides as she ran up the stairs and threw open the door to her room.

The window was wide open, the curtains roiling against the wind as the pelting rain soaked the floor. However, despite the raging storm, a small crystal orb managed to be poised on the windowsill. Sarah felt the tears beginning to pinprick at her eyes as she strode over and picked up the small translucent ball. She clutched it tightly, so tightly she hoped it would break and her baby would come back to her and she could avoid this whole ridiculous mess. But the ball did not shatter, and Jay did not reappear in her arms. So with a surge of animal ferocity, Sarah hurled it out the window and howled into the storm a name that ripped itself from her lungs, a name she hadn't allowed herself to utter in 13 years:

"Jareth!"