Author's Note: By now many of you have heard of the passing of David Bowie. Sunday marked the beginning of mourning for his family, the music community, and those around the world that his work has impacted.

This is a short story dedicated by someone whose familiarity with Bowie comes from The Labyrinth. I have heard "Heroes" but can't sing you any of the words. I know about his other film credits but can't name any except Zoolander. I know about Ziggy Stardust and the Thin White Duke but can't remember them next to Jareth. The David Bowie that I knew is not the famous one the rest of the world knows. That doesn't make me special, but it does make me grateful. Grateful that I wandered into the living room on the day my mom happened to be watching an old 80s movie from her high school days.

This is for David Bowie. The man made of dreams.

—

Still.

The world was still.

And dark.

And quiet.

There were no sounds made by the faded creatures of the Underground. Nothing stirred or stood or spoke. The wind wandered silently through the shadowed branches of the bare trees, listless and lost. Everything was frozen, movement ceased. Life itself had been put to a stop. There were no clouds, but the sky seemed trapped in a perpetual night. Even the stars struggled to appear, their light weak and strained, as though they, too, were not long for this world.

The Labyrinth grew dark and withdrew into itself. Magic seeped from its stones and paths like blood from a wounded heart. Like tears from a mournful friend.

Sarah Williams felt it in her core.

Her own world suffered, its light and wonder drained. The logical side of her brain tried to explain it away, but the Sarah that had run the Labyrinth and felt its magic thrum under her and around her knew that something more was happening.

The second she was able, she ran to the attic of her house and made a beeline straight for her old vanity. Age had made it chipped and outdated, but Sarah had never let it be far from her in all her years. The attic was the ideal location for privacy, as she wasn't sure how visiting friends and family would take to her talking to a mirror. Never had she forgotten her companions from that day in the Labyrinth. No matter where she was, she always had time for her old friends, and even, more often than not, their king.

Now, it was time to call on them again.

"Hoggle!" she yelled her reflection. "Ludo! Sir Didymus!"

Nothing.

Sarah tried again. "Hoggle?"

Another silence.

"Ludo? Hello?"

Now she was panicking.

"Someone answer me! Please!"

Sarah was desperate. She was about to throw something when a movement caught her attention. Shaking and whimpering behind an old couch in the reflection was a white sheepdog.

"Ambrosious!" she cried, relief flooding her. "Oh, Ambrosious! It's okay, boy, it's me. It's Sarah."

The dog inched forward.

"That's right," she said encouragingly. "Everything's fine. Ambrosious, where is Sir Didymus?"

At the name of his rider, Ambrosious let out a whine.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's okay! It's okay!" Sarah backpedalled. What was that for?

"Ambrosious, I need to find him. Or Hoggle or Ludo. Something's wrong here and I know it's because of whatever is going on in the Labyrinth. Will you get them for me?" she pleaded gently.

But Ambrosious only continued to keen loudly. Sarah's heart stuttered within her. What terrible thing had happened there?

"Okay, okay," she said, more to herself than anyone else. With no help from Ambrosious, she had to search herself. But Jareth had always been the one to bring her to the Underworld. She knew well, however, that not everything was as it seemed, and as far as she could recall, the mirror was her only connection. Hesitantly, not knowing that it would work, Sarah reached up and placed her hand against the glass.

At first, nothing happened. The glass remained cold and hard. But slowly, as though waking up and recognizing an old friend, the surface began to give way, and Sarah found that her hand was passing through. Steeling herself against what she might find, Sarah climbed through the mirror and entered the Underworld.

She could do nothing but stare in shock for the first few moments. The once vibrant, teeming Underworld now lay empty and bleak, the sprawling Labyrinth a broken fortress. Sarah was glad that the mirror had led her to the Goblin City; it didn't look like anything could get in or out of the winding maze. The city itself was deserted, not even a chicken or a rat. Sarah wasn't sure what she expected, but it wasn't this. There weren't even—Sarah suddered a little at the thought—lifeless bodies strewn around. Everyone was simply gone.

Sarah bent down and pet Ambrosious on the head.

"Come on, boy," she said. "Let's find Jareth."

Ambrosious whined again but followed when she started toward the castle. Unable to contain her anxiety, she sprinted to the front doors, which stood ajar. Taking stairs three at a time and dashing around corners, Sarah finally burst into the throne room.

Empty.

There was no sign that this had once been the overcrowded hall of a goblin king. Sarah wandered around, searching for any sign and calling out Jareth's name. Dread was filling her and her brain fought against the conclusion it was destined to make. Breathing rapidly, Sarah turned in a fit of desperation to the stairs leading to the Escher Room when her foot accidentally kicked something and sent it skidding across the stone floor. Startled, Sarah rushed to retrieve it and nearly fainted at the sight.

It was Jareth's amulet. The one he never took off. She had asked him about it once, and he had answered vaguely. From what she understood, it was somehow tied to his magic. She had gotten the impression of its importance and hadn't pressed further. To see it lying forgotten on the ground….

"Ambrosious," Sarah said weakly. "There's… There's no one left, is there?"

Ambrosious whimpered, nudging her hand. Her breath caught as tears sprang to her eyes. In a daze, she picked up the amulet and wandered around the throne room, trying and failing to wake up from this nightmare.

"And… Jareth?"

She looked to Ambrosious when he didn't make a sound, but the look in his eyes was enough.

No one.

There was no one left. The magic was gone. The goblins were gone. The Labyrinth was dying.

Ambrosious was still here, but he was originally from Aboveground, like her. They didn't rely on the Labyrinth's magic to exist. Everyone else did.

Her friends had faded away.

Jareth had faded away.

A shimmer caught her eye. On the armrest of the vacant throne sat a crystal, perfectly round and clear. Sarah knew it hadn't been there before, but she sensed the Labyrinth pull her toward it, beckon her to use it. It could still do one last thing for her. It could still carry its Champion home once more. For her, it could. For her.

"Come, Ambrosious," she said numbly. "We need to go."

The sheepdog obeyed her voice and accompanied Sarah as she tossed the crystal into the air and thought of the Aboveground. When she opened her eyes, the crystal fell to the ground and shattered.

So did she.

—

That night was particularly dark. The moon was out and the sky clear, but the dying Underground was draining the Aboveground. It couldn't be helped, but it made Sarah feel sick. Eventually she had pulled herself off the attic floor, forced down some cereal, and fed Ambrosious some lunchmeat she found in the fridge. He stuck closer than a shadow, and she was grateful for his presence. When she finally crawled into bed, exhausted from crying through the afternoon and into the night, he jumped up with her.

Sarah stared at the amulet in her palm for a little while, her free hand trailing across Ambrosious' fur. It was an odd thing, but she had always liked it. Jareth seemed to take particular care of it. Now it was her only token of him, her enemy turned friend. Although she had thought that maybe…maybe they could have been more….

It didn't matter now. Those dreams were over.

Starting to drift, Sarah hung the amulet on the headboard near her, watching it catch the moonlight as her eyes fluttered closed and sleep surrounded her weary mind.

—

"Sarah…"

The young woman frowned, just below the surface of consciousness. Someone was speaking…

"Sarah."

Her eyes opened slowly, and she shifted to view the bedroom.

Standing near the window, lit up by the moon, was Jareth.

Memory hit her like a train, and she shot up, tossing the covers and jostling Ambrosious. Jareth came to stand in front of her by the time she was on her feet, and she reached out to touch him. As soon as her hand met solid flesh, she gasped and hugged him close. Jareth laughed and did the same.

"I was so scared!" she exclaimed. She pulled away to look at him. "I went to the Labyrinth and couldn't find you. Or anyone else. I thought I'd lost you! Oh, my gosh, Jareth, I can't believe—"

"Sarah," he said, cutting her off gently. She stopped mid-sentence, finally noticing his expression. It was a strange one, a mixture of happiness and…?

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Jareth took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His brow furrowed, and he remained silent for a minute before looking at her again.

"I'm here to say goodbye."

The words hung in the air like smoke. Sarah couldn't believe it. He was all right, he was here. She shook her head.

"No…"

"I'm dying, Sarah," he explained gently.

"No," she said more forcefully. "No, you can't be. You're here."

Jareth shook his head. "Everything has its ending, dear one. It just so happens to be mine."

"I can help you!" she yelled, genuinely frustrated. "Why not try? We have hospitals, and doctors. Maybe not for magical illnesses, but they can help! We can save you!"

"Stubborn as usual," he smirked, but it only made her more angry. She had found his Labyrinth in pieces. Did that mean nothing to him?

He noticed her reaction and let his face fall, reaching out to her.

"Do you not care?" she asked, and he pulled his hand away. "The Underground is broken. Everyone is gone. Your amulet was on the floor of the throne room. I thought you were dead! Where were you when I went looking for you?"

"I'd already started to fade," he answered cautiously, wary of an outburst. His tone made her feel guilty; surely this was worse for him than it was for her. "My magic became too much. That's why you found the amulet. I couldn't carry it anymore."

Her breath hitched as the realization set in on her. Now that she looked, he was different, as though his energy was gone. He was paler than usual, his stance burdened. And the mischievous Jareth she knew was always playing around with magic. It was a part of him. To sever himself from it must have hurt in a way she could only guess. She realized it must be taking everything he had to make this trip. It brought her earlier feeling of sickness back tenfold.

Jareth must have mistaken her expression for disgust or something else, because his changed to one of dejection.

"I only came to say goodbye, and to tell you that…well, it doesn't matter," he said in a quiet tone. He leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek. It woke her up, and she felt the world split in two as he began to walk away toward the window.

No. No, no, no, no, no. Not now!

"Please don't go."

Jareth stopped, his black cloak rustling around his ankles.

"Please," Sarah whispered, her voice breaking.

He looked back and was met with the sight of Sarah—his Sarah—failing to hold back the tears that were slowly escaping. She couldn't help it now; her heart betrayed her.

"I don't want you to go," she pleaded, fighting to keep her tone steady through her emotion. "You— You've got to stay. This is too soon. We didn't…get the chance…"

Jareth merely watched her with a small, bittersweet smile. And it was this quiet answer that pushed her over the edge. A real sob echoed through the room.

"I wish…" she said. "I wish…"

He cocked his head, eyes glimmering, and she remembered a time when he would have done everything in his power to give her what she wished. Maybe now it would work that way again. Maybe now she could accept his offer. She would, if it meant more time.

"I wish you would stay," she cried, and her words were swallowed by sadness. Nothing to stop the floodgates now. She let it come, cheeks stained with her sorrow.

"Oh, Sarah."

In two long strides he crossed the room to her, and Jareth pulled his fiery girl into his embrace and let her cry. His arms were strong around her, always strong. Always, for her.

"I'm so sorry!" she blurted when she found her breath. "This is so selfish, so unfair of me. You're the one who's leaving. You're the one who's… dying."

Jareth chuckled a little and pulled back enough to meet her eyes.

"You have always been more to me than you understand," he said softly. "I move the stars for no one. But I would do it a thousand times for you."

Her sobbing subsided, her fingers gripping his shirt. His face turned pained, and Sarah held her breath.

"I cannot give you your wish," he confessed. "All things—even magic and goblins and dances and songs—must end. I must end."

Those words struck a new wound in her heart, but she would not let it end like this, her weeping in his arms. She swallowed hard and nodded, knowing that to be the answer long before he uttered it.

"Are you afraid?" she asked. She could do this. For him. Always, for him.

At this, Jareth smiled. A real one.

"Sarah, have you still learned so little over these years?" he teased. "Death isn't the end. Not really. I may leave this world, but I'll continue on in another. We all do."

"Where will you go in this new world?"

"That depends on what I decide."

Sarah frowned. "Have you decided?"

"Yes, I have. I did many years ago, not long after you ran my Labyrinth."

"What did you choose?"

Jareth grinned and stated simply, "One greater than I."

He pauses.

"I hope you will choose the same, Sarah."

The moon, which had been lingering unnoticed in the sky, began—was she imagining it?—to glow a little bit brighter than before. Its light now bathed both of them in silver. Jareth took note of it and sighed.

"This is it," he whispered.

Sarah threw her arms around the Goblin King once more. She put everything into it: her strength, her memories, her care, her joy…. Her love. Jareth held her just as tightly, his fingers threading through her hair, breathing in her warmth. He would miss her, his lionhearted girl. His Sarah. And she would miss him, her Goblin King, her dream. Her Jareth.

They pulled back slowly, and let their hands fall away from each other even slower. Sarah wanted to scream, but she stood tall and refused to look away. As the light seemed to wrap itself around him, she held his gaze and let the joy of every memory that she had with him fill her to the brim, outshining her grief and tearing through the pain.

Then, she beamed. A brilliant, contagious, life-giving grin that lit up her eyes and struck Jareth to his soul.

She loved him. She loved him.

And it gave him courage. He knew what was waiting for him, and he wasn't afraid. But now he was certain, in that moment, that she would follow after him. She would come.

And he would be waiting.

As she began to disappear from his sight, he let slip through smiling lips, "Precious thing."