Started: Feb. 14,
2001
Rating: R. Bad
language. Adult situations.
Description: It's
fourteen years after the Labyrinth. Sarah is married, but Jareth comes into her
life unexpectedly, and she has to choose between her husband or him.
Disclaimer: We love
you Mr. Henson!!
Dedication: To
Esther. You beta reader, you.
Note: Inspired by…
All Is Full Of Love by Bjork. Pump, by the Sugarcubes. The Eye Of The Beholder
movie. And most of all, Érik Karol's wonderful poem, Je Te Souhaite. I don't
know a bit of French, but I got the dictionary sites to translate for me!
I WISH YOU
By: Scatterheart, a.k.a. 2shy
He
came for her late after the sun had left below the hills, a flurry of white and
gold flapping at her opened window.
There.
Right at the breath of her unconscious plea, "Jareth, please… take me… please…"
She
didn't know why she was calling to him, a name as forgotten as the face that
went with it, but it was a name, and it gave her comfort as she lay sprawled
upon the king sized bed. Alone.
Alone
with the bed sheets smelling of a perfume she never used, and cigarettes, and
brandy.
Outside,
the storm raged, sending a flurry of rain and cold inside of the room and onto
her shivering body, clad only in a simple white nightgown. She didn't feel the
cold anymore, not after she'd been lying there forever, unmoving.
If
she were numb enough, then maybe she would forget that he was gone again, and
that she was left to spend another weekend by herself. And if she were cold
enough, maybe the aching bruises on her body would no longer feel as painful.
Hell,
when he came back, she would even smile at him this time, and he would smile
back at her, and then they would kiss and rekindle the passion she believed was
in him.
Maybe.
That
word was a pathetically small spark of warmth to her but it was warmth just the
same, and she gathered herself around it so tightly that she didn't notice the
winged bird fly through the window and settle, reformed, onto her soaked
carpet.
It
was when a shadow fell over her closed eyes that she opened them, and saw the
man the bird had become.
He
was wearing unearthly clothes of black leather and silk, and his long hair was
wild. And the wind that blew the wrong way, or the rain that sucked at him,
refusing to let their great king go, tugged at his cape to draw him back into
the storm.
He
didn't move. He stood inside her room, but through Sarah's delirious mind, he
wasn't there. He was waiting. Waiting to stay, or to disappear out of the open
window as if nothing had happened.
She
didn't know what to say to him, simply shivered in the stinging cold. And it
was so cold she distantly guessed whether if he was cold and the
moment the thought crossed her mind she wondered more about him, the king, the
goblin, the man.
She
said: "Close the window, Jareth." Her voice was barely audible, but the window
closed. The golden latch fell into its place with a tiny click, then all was
silent while the storm raged behind the glass.
"Why
are you here?"
He
cocked his head to the side and smiled at her, amused at the question. "You
know why."
"No,
I don't!" She coughed, staggering to her feet. "Go away."
"I
can't. You called to me."
Her
frozen mind was in turmoil as it struggled to thaw. "Never."
"You
said my name, and wanted me to come save you, Sarah." He took a silent step
closer and she stumbled into the wall behind her, her back hitting the icy
surface with a soft thud.
"I
would never call to you," she bit out. "It's been fourteen years. Learn
to forget."
"Oh,
I have," He whistled casually. He pulled at his gloves, his delicate
fingertips dancing together.
The
words, or the uncaring tone he used to say them, fueled the anger in her and
she wanted to slap him. He merely halted her with his wicked, innocent eyes and
smiled again.
"You
wished for me, Sarah. You wanted me to take you with me, I am merely
here to do it."
"You
lying, dreaming, son of a bitch!" she protested, her anger escalating to fury.
(At herself? At Jareth? At… him?) "Why would I want to see you now,
after fourteen years?"
Jareth
threw his head back and laughed. The sound filled the cold room, surprisingly
warmed it. The storm outside died down and the silver fire of the moon shone
through the tumultuous clouds and onto their faces. "Sarah, you precious girl…
why must you do this constantly?"
"What?"
"Deny
yourself," he nearly whispered.
She
breathed and watched his laughter fade away. Now his eyes were almost black,
and small flames licked in the depths of each one. Her heart fluttered.
"Admit
it," he urged. "You deny yourself of life… of love especially. And that was why
you called for me. Mm? To give you these things?"
She
suddenly felt her head grow fuzzy. How can she answer to a question like this?
The world around her started to spin in a merry-go-round of dark anger and
confusion.
"You
want to love me," he stated simply. Carelessly. "Because he doesn't."
Love.
The puzzle of a word sent her reeling. And the situation was so ridiculous, so incredibly
ridiculous like a badly written period romance that she felt herself spiraling
into that ethereal realm where the only two people existing were themselves.
"You're
looking for love in a place that doesn't have love."
No!
She had love, didn't she? She had love!
"He
doesn't give you love. That's the problem."
Falling…
"But
love is all around you, Sarah."
Now
she hit the ground, and everything was crumbling, cracking, dissipating…
"Jareth,
stop!"
He
grabbed her shoulders. "And yet you willingly deny yourself of it!"
"I
hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" she screamed. The storm must have started
again, because a roaring sound erupted in her ears and consumed her. Two words
echoed in her brain: he's right, he's right, he's right hesrighthesright…
until they lost all meaning and slurred together like a sledgehammer to her
body.
And
then she did collapse into his arms. He was warm, and she hated him. She
hated the way he reacted, gently burying her to his chest like she was the last
breath of air on earth. She hated his quick heartbeat, how amazingly human he
was, and how alive and human he made her feel.
And
she hated how he was giving her all the things she ever wanted from Franklin.
"Get the hell away from me." The thought of
Franklin jabbed like a sword into her heart. She pushed him back roughly.
"Don't come any closer, or you'll regret it."
"Sarah…"
"Stop it! Why do you keep thinking that I
need you to rescue me?" she shouted. "Are you going to take me to your castle
again? And the fourteen years that passed between us can just go to hell, and
I'll marry you like nothing fucking happened!"
"Calm yourself-"
"I guess that won't work, would it? Because
you want the teenage girls! Seduce them into your castle, maybe screw a
couple of them, and come back a decade later to rescue them from the
shit you put them in!"
"Sarah!" The roar was deafening, almost
unhuman. And the silence overlapped the silence as he moved away from her. "I
didn't-"
She choked back her tears and shook
silently. "You bastard."
His
voice quieted to an ominous buzz. "I'm doing you a favor. You talk as if you
forget that."
"I don't want it."
"No, you don't." he said, coldly
dispassionate, like a teardrop falling onto a frozen lake. "You want to stay
like this."
She sighed, looking up to his sarcastic
glare that challenged hers. "Would it be any different with you?"
"Yes," he said.
"How
so?"
He
smiled coldly. "I would not hit you. I would not spend money on liquor or
cigarettes. I would not cheat on you…"
He sounded like the impatient man reading
the items from a grocery list. But instead of anger, she felt different toward
his words. There was a tender trembling inside of her, at the very heart of her
that increased and would not go away.
His
face was almost emotionless, with the tiniest dash of cool contempt. But his
eyes were glistening with fiery colors that nothing could conceal… did
he want to conceal it? Did he want her to see it?
But
she hated him! She did! She wanted to hate him with all her might and
drive a stake into that vampire's chest and get rid of his awful truths!
"…
Insult you. Hurt you. Laugh at you. Make you cry…"
She
closed her eyes.
"…and of course…" A pause. "…I would love
you, Sarah."
Somewhere
in the back of her mind, she remembered a saying, "The opposite of hate is
indifference, not love."
It
didn't matter now, a million nothings were flitting through her mind now, just
filling her with a numbing static that kept the impact of his words at bay.
What
was this feeling? Fear… yes, but not afraid of him, who stood so
patiently before her, but for him. And then the trembling warmth bubbled
to the top of her, mingled with the fear. A wracking sob spilled out of her,
but no moisture sprung to her eyes.
He
shrugged. As simply as he had been through the whole evening. Aside from the
intensity in his eyes, he didn't care, did he?
"But,
my dear, precious girl," he murmured to her, "the world doesn't revolve this
way."
No.
No. It didn't.
And
that was the fear that was tingling through her body, the fear of what would
happen… if. If they dared the moon to kill the harsh sun, and wrap them up in a
forgiving blanket of blindness.
"Sarah, that is not the excuse," he snapped,
as if he had deciphered through her mind. "You cannot stay here. With him."
"I
have no choice!"
Truly,
how can she, a thirty something woman who was already too tired to live, go
with… a king? And to love one while living with…
Franklin.
"Jareth…
Leave. Now." She was pushing him harshly toward the window. Out, he needed to
go out! God! She couldn't risk it for him! Couldn't, just couldn't! Oh, God!
Just go! Go!
And
then, the bedroom light flickered on, casting the cool blue room in a naked
orange blast.
"What
the hell is going on here?"
"Franklin-
don't!"
He
was already three feet into the door, the sickening sweet aroma of alcohol
dispersing into the corners of the room. His clothes, rumpled from lovemaking
with another woman, and his hair, wet from the rain. "Babe- shit! Who the fuck
do you have with you?"
It's
happening.
"Franklin!
I love you! Please! Just leave him alone, he'll leave!" She didn't know what
she was feeling anymore. And the panic started rising and rising, and she fell,
tumbling once again.
"Fuck
it! I leave to fix the car and you have this whore in our house!"
"Franklin,
I understand, but he was lost… Please, he'll go…"
He
strode closer, drunken green eyes stabbing like knives into her. "You bitch!"
She
braced herself, pushing Jareth behind her.
And
then, Franklin's meaty fist raised above his head-
"Stop!"
"Jareth,
no!"
He
walked calmly, like a sleek raven from an ancient legend, in front of her. "If
you touch one hair on her head, I'll make sure you never see the light of day
for as long as you live."
"You
bastard! What are you gonna do with my girl?!" he bellowed into him.
His
girl, his girl… She didn't want to be his girl. And for a split second, when a
flash of lightening hit the sky, she thought, maybe she did.
"Babe-
what the fuck did he do to you? Babe, I'm so fuckin' sorry. Look at
you…"
"Please,
Franklin, just let it go. Let him go. And we'll be okay. Okay?"
"He
was trying to murder you!"
"No!"
She ran to him, touched his heaving chest, looked into his face. There it was
again, just the slight wisp of a memory of the handsome football player he used
to be. She could see herself in his eyes at eighteen again, when she was
beautiful and unmarred by the pressures of life.
"Franklin,
I love you. I really, really do… let him go."
"Babe…"
"Please."
She kissed his cheek.
"…
I'm sorry, babe."
She
heard the shot before she saw the gun. It was louder that she had imagined it
to be, and so raw, unlike the hollow, muffled sounds on TV sitcoms. Then the
glint of the shiny metal in Franklin's hand flashed in triumph, and Jareth
clutched at his chest without a sound. The echo of the shot faded into the
night.
It
was over.
"Jareth!"
She
tore herself from Frankin's protective grasp and ran to him, saw the deep
crimson blood seep between his fingers and onto his white shirt. And there was
a red, red rose blooming so beautifully on his chest that she wanted to cry
because she'll never see anything like it ever again.
He
looked like an angel… her angel, and now, he would be her angel no more.
"We
can never be, you know. There was never love."
"There
is, Jareth! I love y-"
He
smiled, the fire in his eyes cooling for the first time. "Shh… never say love
to anyone."
"No!
That's not true!" She reached to touch him, but couldn't.
"I
wish you… childhood, Sarah," he whispered to her.
The
thunder rolled, and somehow, the windows burst open, and the storm moaned in
grief at their fallen king and pulled him into their eternal embrace.
Then
her angel fell into darkness. Just as he had come, on the wings of a whisper.
"Oh,
God…" She sank to her knees, her mind a blank.
"Sarah,
baby, I'm so sorry… are you okay? Are you okay?" A voice… Franklin's. Franklin.
Her husband.
He wrapped his strong arms around her,
letting the savage rain pour down upon them, washing away all that had been.
"I'm fine, Franklin," she said. The tears
finally came. The poured over her cheeks and mixed with the rain and she cried
into his chest like a lost child. "God, Franklin, you shouldn't have, you
shouldn't have…"
And he rasped, "I'm so sorry baby. Can we
start over? I really fucked it up… I'm so sorry, baby. I love you, I love you."
She looked up into his face. "Never say
love to anyone." But she said it so softly he couldn't hear it, and he held her
closer and kissed her.
And
behind her, the breathy sound of the flapping of wings reached her ears. But it
was probably just the heartbeat of the rainstorm.
FINIS.
"Je te souhaite le coeur qui sans cesse
s'élance,
Et danse sur un fil d'horizon, effronté,
Les rêves affutés, les dragons affrontés,
Les lagons oubliés... Je te souhaite
l'enfance." ~Érik Karol
Ended: Feb. 22,
12:37 AM.
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loved at 2shy@teenagewildlife.com
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