Sarah heard the desolate wind ripping through the structure. It really did sound like far away howling, and she could comfortably blame it on the wind until it got closer and closer. She expected their to be activity, but there was none. Even the plants had once lived and now it seemed everything was dead, pruned or shriveled. Sarah might have found the sight heart breaking when she'd been a girl, but she held no love for this Goblin King, or his Labyrinth.

She would assume she was dreaming until it became impossible to deny the fact that she was in fact awake. She was getting colder than she knew she had any right to be. The howling came nearer by the moment, and she found herself running down the corridor, much like she had the first time she'd been here. She didn't stop in frustration, but instead continued to run out of fear - but she felt the hallway looping in on her. It wasn't going anywhere. She was being chased again, but this time it was by something with teeth.

She heard the growling intermixed with the howling and she came up against a dead end and realized she was trapped. When she turned, shuddering and barely clothes, she saw a pack of dogs. They were black dogs, though they were slender and bony, flesh hanging from their bones and their eyes glowing an unsettling red. They reminded her of the gytrash she had seen in the books she'd read. They snapped and drooled, all teeth and points, and Sarah was sure there would be no escaping from this. She found her fear was somewhat clarifying, and she began to pick up rocks, tossing them at the dogs with sure aim. One of them yelped, running off to wherever hellish spot it had come from. She kept chucking rocks at them until one came sailing back over the wall at her, smacking her right in her head and causing her vision to go black.

She found herself being taken into someone's arms, and they pulled her up and let her feet drag behind her, a body on either side of her. Her head lolled and she opened her eyes, finding she was being taken directly to the middle of the labyrinth through a path she didn't remember - though she did remember a little blue worm exclaiming that if she'd just kept on it she would have gone straight to the middle. Even in her bleary state, she supposed it was true.

She was mostly conscious by the time she was dragged up the steps to the palace. She expected to see Goblins skittering around everywhere, but there were none to be spoken of. There weren't even any chickens. The city that surrounded the place was empty, a ghost town. Sarah felt herself forced along and did her best to weakly struggle, though her captors made it harder on her and it didn't seem to make it any harder on them. They were fae, with long extended ears that had holes punched in them and chunks taken out of them. They had black eyes, and sharp teeth, and they reminded her of her dream.

She found herself flung forward before a dias, and a man sprawled arrogantly in a chair. She thought, at first, that this was Jareth, but when she looked up she realized it was not. It was the man from her dream, the man who looked like Jareth. He had the same black eyes and the same sharp teeth, and he was smiling at her as if he would enjoy ripping strips of her flesh from her bones one by one.

"We found her in the labyrinth," One of the creatures seethed out.

"Dogs heard her,"

"How did she get here? She smells human," The man sniffed, derisively, before leaning forward into his chair. "Hmm? How did you get here, little animal?"

Sarah looked at him, tilting her chin up defiantly. She already hated him. Even Jareth wasn't this awful.

"Where's Jareth?" She asked, though realized the hugeness of her mistake when the man's grin widened.

"How do you know about him?" He spat, anger obvious in his eyes despite the grin on his face.

"Where is he?" She asked again, refusing to answer his questions. He looked angry, rage bleeding into his eyes.

"Kill her," He murmured, waiving her off as if she was so much garbage. She began to struggle as her captors lifted her up, dragging her off to be killed. She fought as much as she could, screaming and struggling. They were resistant to her cries, fairies didn't tend to care much for humans. Just a lower being on the food chain, after all.

"Wait a minute," The man on the chair said. "I recognize this girl,"

"Lord?" One of the goons asked, concerned.

"I recognize her. Throw her in with him,"

And thus, her fate was sealed.

She was dragged down into what was definitely a dungeon. It was cold, wet, and dark. It didn't seem as if her hosts were going to give her a blanket before throwing her in with whatever 'him' was, and she might die of pneumonia before someone else got to her. She heard them unlatch the lock and felt them forcibly toss her forward into the damp cell. The sunlight drifted in from a very high opening in the brick, but even it couldn't kill the chill.

Sarah pushed herself against the iron bars, shaking them and shouting after her captors, but she seemed to know it was of no use. She thought that they had disobeyed the man, turning around in the cell. It was dark and she was sure she was alone, until she heard someone's voice come out from the shadows. It was a voice she recognized, crawling fingertips up her spine as it drawled out.

"Sarah," He murmured.

Her memories flooded in. Love me, fear me, do as I say and I will be your slave. Sarah spun around, finding that he was hidden in the dark corners of the cell, though she could see the outline of him, even in the dark. He was not the man he had been, not at all. She took three hesitant steps forward, finding him there against the wall. He was sick, that much was clear. He had gotten skinny and pale, and his eyes looked bruised. His cheek bones were so hollow that he resembled a skeleton. There were shackles on his hands and feet, not meant to keep him in any one place, but meant to poison him. Sarah noticed that they were iron, almost immediately. His hair had gotten even whiter, if it was possible - though there was a streak of orange in it, and it was pushed away from his strange features.

She supposed it was true then, the iron allergy.

"Jareth," She repeated, wondering what she could do for him, wondering at her want to do anything for him. She hated him, she should have felt glad that he was being poisoned to death. Slowly.

She couldn't find it in herself to be glad. If he died, who would she yell at for dragging her back into this mess?

She came forward and he rolled his head back to get a better look at her. It might have been the effect of the iron, but it seemed like he was having trouble focusing his eyes. She looked at his binds. He might be the best chance of getting out of here, if she could only get those things off of him. Unfortunately, she could see with obvious clarity that they required a key, or maybe two.

"I can see you dressed for the occasion," He murmured, smirking halfheartedly at her.

"Can't you ever shut up?" She asked, leaning down in front of him to lift his wrists up and examine the binds. "Who has the keys to these?"

He laughed, looking vaguely uninterested in the question.

"Who knows?"

"As funny as ever, I see," She murmured, leaning back onto her legs when she realized that he was likely not going to be any help in his own rescue.

"You're bleeding," He pointed at her with one of his long, bony fingers.

"Yes, thanks to one of your kind thugs,"

"They aren't mine," He laughed again, looking at her. "Are you still so naive? And stubborn," He murmured. "I've never met a more stubborn girl,"

"What's happened to you? You used to be all glitter and smoke and..." She pushed her hair from her face, fingers coming away sticky with blood.

"My brother, he's my brother," He smirked. "And you, changeling girl, should know the benefit of siblings,"

She realized she had no idea what he was talking about. She wagered he didn't either, he was obviously delirious.

Jareth fell into an uneasy sleep, and Sarah was glad for it. She had to think. How was she going to get out of here? Why in the hell had he stuck her in here with him? She was sure he had some sort of nefarious motive, but she couldn't guess at it. She did her best to use what was left of the hospital gown to wipe at the blood, but she was getting dangerously close to just being outright naked in a kingdom full of sharp toothed, black eyed fae.

When one of the guards came back to give her some sort of unappealing looking gruel, she reached through the bar and caught him, trying to yank him back against the iron. He hissed, but she held him firm.

"Please bring me some clothes, I'll freeze to death," She did her best to give him puppy eyes, if he had no humanity to appeal to she might at least make him think she was cute enough to take pity on - like a dog you kicked at the end of the day.

He yanked his arm away from her hand, and she stumbled backwards, though she couldn't tell if she'd managed to get at least one wish request granted until another guard came back down with folded clothing. He tossed it at her through the bars, and she felt thankful that at least she wouldn't be naked down here while locked up with the once powerful Goblin King.

She was happy to slide out of the dirty hospital gown, and she kept an eye on the sleeping Jareth before she dressed herself. It was a loose fitting pair of what appeared to be sleep clothes, but it was better than nothing. She had become a beggar in the last few hours, after all. The fabric was a bit thicker than the hospital gown, and she felt at least a little bit warmer. The cell was thoroughly uncomfortable, and it seemed as if Jareth had taken to the corner and stayed there. She couldn't guess how long he'd been down here, but judging by his appearance it was likely a long time.

How had he ended up a prisoner? She couldn't even ask him, she knew she'd get some sort of weird expostulation about changelings and siblings. The likelihood of her getting out of here unless released was beginning to look fairly unlikely. The only being of use was drunk with poison and sleeping away his pain in a cramped corner of a cell. She found herself the driest spot she could and settled down in it, watching as the day turned into night. She felt exhausted, and her head was throbbing painfully. She kept looking up, wondering if there was some way she might scale the wall, but it was too high. Without a rope or something to hold her, it would be impossible.

She tried not to fall asleep, but she was wondering if she did she might wake up back in her world, and this would have ended up being a horrid nightmare.

She found herself woken up awhile later, by something hissing her name, quietly and then loudly. She woke up, finding Jareth was still curled up in the corner, sleeping away fitfully. She shifted uncomfortably, finding the cellar was just as uncomfortable as it had been when she'd fallen asleep. She saw something with glowing eyes having poked it's head through the bars. It was one of the dogs who had almost attacked her in the labyrinth. She couldn't think it was the gytrash talking, but it stared at her with strange red eyes. It seemed to be waiting on something, and Sarah leaned forward carefully, crawling on her hands and knees slowly. There was a low, strange growling coming from the back of it's throat, and Sarah kept her distance.

They regarded each other strangely, but Sarah had a feeling that the creature understood everything she might say to it. It was desperation, and maybe stupid to try and talk to it, but she felt it was worth a try anyway.

"Get the keys," She pointed at Jareth.

The dog regarded them both mildly before showing it's wicked, razor sharp grin with a few pants. It ambled off, causing Sarah to huff out in irritation. Well, she wasn't sure what she had been expecting, it wasn't as if she was some sort of animal speaker. She was trapped, for the time being. She was concerned about Jareth, she didn't think he had much time left without getting those binds off of him, and she crept a little closer to him to watch him toss and turn in his sleep. He was having bad dreams. She saw the sweat glimmering on his pallid skin, though the pallor was an unhealthy gray sheen, resembling that of a dying fish. He seemed older, even though his appearance had not really changed at all - despite the change of hair style.

She reached out carefully, touching his forehead with the back of her hand. He was clammy, and she frowned, biting her bottom lip carefully. She heard the whispering of her name, and she was forced to look back towards the front of the cell. There sat the strange, terrifying dog with a ring of keys in it's mouth. Her mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Are you kidding me?" She asked quietly, not fully believing that it had actually worked.

Carefully, she crept up to the creature. She didn't want to scare it off and send it running - who knew where the keys would end up then. She reached out and grasped them, realizing it was going to be a chore to find the right ones. The creature clamped down harder, tugging back like it was playing before Sarah tugged them right out of it's mouth, covered in some sort of spectral drool. Of course.

Sarah crept back over to Jareth. She didn't have a plan, exactly, she just wanted to get the irons off of him. She began trying a key in the locks until she came across one that unlatched the irons around his wrists. Another key was used for the ones on his ankles, but she didn't know the purpose of that if they kept them all on the same key ring. Jareth seemed unbothered, and he went on dreaming. She could see his eyes twitching beneath his bruised eyelids.

Finally, when he was free of the irons, she chucked them aside and moved to try and bend her hand in such a fashion that she could unlock the cell. She didn't know how much time she had before someone came down here looking for their keys. She knew about Goblins, and fairies, and she hoped they were too drunk to notice their absence until the next day. They didn't seem to think it was important to have anyone watching them. Sarah almost felt insulted by it, but she was glad for the oversight.

Finally, she found a key that fit the lock, and she rattled the cell open. There, her freedom. She realized she was going to leave him behind, he was free of his irons, he could get out of here on his own, couldn't he? Excepting that he was barely awake, much less alive, and by the time someone found him out they might put them right back on him.

"Damn it," She muttered to herself. Maybe she was still the naive, bullheaded girl she'd once been, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of dying on her.

Besides, Sarah had a hard time imagining a world without Jareth - would his myth and mystery fade if he died? She leaned down and did her best to lift him out of his fetal position in the corner. He rolled his head and opened his eyes, looking at her like she was some sort of amusing anecdote he'd heard a party once. She slung his arm over her shoulders, doing her best to force him to at least use her as a crutch. He was mostly dead weight, and even with all the weight he had obviously lost, he was still heavy.

"Come on, Goblin King, have you forgotten how to walk?" She groaned, nearly sending them both into the wall.

She had no idea where she was going, and her memories were cloudy - not to mention the fun tricks he liked to play when it came to construction of his fortress. He was in no shape to turn himself upside down and walk on the bottom of an open air ledge, and she had never had that skill to begin with. A lot of good jumping had done her, it seemed. She still ended up here anyway, though this time he wasn't offering her everything her heart desired.

Jareth groaned, obviously in pain despite the freedom. He seemed to be coming back to himself, and he picked himself up, though he still weighed heavily on her. He opened his eyes as they shuffled down one dark corridor after another. The palace was eerily empty, as if his brother had driven off every last living thing that even reminded him of the way it had been before. Eventually she heard him speaking. Left, and she would go left. Right, and she would go right. He remembered, even if he was half awake. She couldn't be sure that he was telling the truth, but when they broke out into the cold, open air, she realized he had been.

"Keep going," He murmured, giving out another pained groan as something else seemed to give him pain. She supposed he was going to have to try and work all of that poison through his system, somehow.

She realized after some distance that the dog was following behind them at a distance. It didn't seem interested in harming either of them, but Sarah was fearful that it would alert its masters to their recent prison break. They stumbled, and Sarah felt him slipping away, giving into gravity. He rolled onto his back, laughing as if this were all some big joke. She felt a desire to kick him, but she didn't. She got a good look at him in the moonlight. He was dressed in a linen shirt and a pair of leather breeches, as if someone had just plucked him out of his life and taken him hostage.

"I would ask you what's wrong with you," She muttered, moving forward to try and get him upright again. "But I know you won't have an answer that isn't complete nonsense,"

She hefted him up with whatever strength she had and he continued to shamble alongside her as best he could, directing her movements whenever he was awake enough to do so. The dog continued to follow them, but after a long distance Sarah realized that maybe it wasn't following to alert, maybe it had defected also. Sarah began to realize Jareth had a place in mind, and she hoped to reach it before the sun rose. Her arms and legs were burning, and she became doubly aware of her head injury with the exertion. She was surprised they went without being attacked by something, but that dog, something about the dog made her think that it was protecting Jareth.

The sun began to rise, painting the horizon a dewy rose gold, and Sarah was glad for the chill lifting but she was sure she had never been this tired. Jareth was acting as if he was finally recovering from a bad hangover, but she could tell he was in pain. Maybe the delirium had been better. He hadn't realized how much he was hurting.

"Stop," He muttered, some of his regal command returning. "Stop," He said again more forcefully, and she was forced to stop. "Look," He muttered, pointing with his elegant finger.

Sarah looked as instructed, but saw nothing. She kept looking, trying to see what he was trying to point out. She realized there was an odd shimmer just beyond, and she could see that something about the scenery was off. Was it the same type of portal that had dumped her here to begin with?

"Go," He commanded, and she did.

Once they made it through the tear, Sarah's vision went white and she felt the strange sensation one got when they were riding the elevator and it chucked itself upward, a sort of falling out of the ground beneath her. She lost track of the Goblin King in the movement, before she felt herself deposited onto rather hard cement. She coughed, groaning. She flexed her limbs, trying to ascertain if she had any broken bones. When she was satisfied she didn't, she opened her eyes against a now bright day.

It was New York, unmistakably.

There were people walking by, busily attending to their life, a few of them shooting her odd glances. She turned to look for Jareth, and found him standing up - leant against the building that created the alleyway. He must have looked even more out of place than she did. They both must have looked insane, but at least Jareth looked as though he was coming back to himself. Perhaps distance didn't make the heart grow fonder, as he was looking the least ill he had since she'd seen him again. She didn't know how long he'd been standing there watching people go by, but he must have looked like he'd gotten drunk and then the renaissance fair lost track of him.

She stood up, sore from her all night trek in la-la land and the rough landing. It took her a moment to get her bearings, but she knew where they were after a few moments. It was going to be a walk back home, and neither of them had shoes on, but it was going to have to do. Sarah got them back to the brownstone with only mild heckling. She was thankful to see the door man there, and he immediately looked confused at her appearance. He was a polite man, and didn't mention it.

"Joe, I forgot my key," She murmured. "Can you call the management and have them let me in?"

"No need, I have an extra," He said, eyeing Jareth in a way that seemed to ask: you expect me to let him in too?

It took him a moment to find the key, and he lead them into the elevator. He let her into her apartment, and she watched him head off to put the key back in it's place, looking back to get a glimpse of the Goblin King before he disappeared back into the elevator. The cat came to greet her, but when he got a look at Jareth, there was immediate discord. The cat hissed and yowled, scrambling into one of his favorite hiding spots. Sarah looked concerned, but she was too tired to try and coax him out. Plus, she wasn't at all surprised.

"That's Hoggle,"

"Of course, anything with the name Hoggle will despise me," He said in his arrogant tones. "Why did you name it that?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. She hadn't thought this through, bringing him back to her apartment. She was so exhausted that she could only think about her bed, and a very long nap. They were both dirty, covered now in street grime. Sarah really didn't have any mens' clothing, though she thought she might be able to dig something left behind by an old boyfriend out of the back of her closet.

"There's a shower through there," She said, moving to the linen closet to hand him a towel.

"Shower?" Jareth asked, his brow arching as he took the towel from her.

"You don't know what a shower is?"

Jareth looked at her, mute.

Sarah sighed and lead him into the bathroom. She turned the water on, pulling out the bit that made the shower kick on. The pipes were old and she could hear them creaking before the warm water came out. She pointed.

"That adjusts the temperature," She pointed again. "That turns it off when you're done - help yourself to the soap,"

"Soap," He repeated, though he did it in such a way that seemed to suggest that she couldn't possibly be serious.

"Yes, you know, that thing you clean yourself with? Or are you just so all powerful that dirt just usually avoids you?"

Sarah closed the door behind him, having faith that he was smart enough to figure it out. She had planned to go in after him, but when she sat down on her bed after digging out a pair of trousers and a shirt, she fell to the side and immediately fell asleep. She didn't get to sleep for very long, as she began to feel a slight prodding at her sore shoulder. She looked up, finding the him standing there, examining her. She could see the bruising at his wrists, and he had slight bruising around his neck, leading her to believe they'd once had him chained up. Apparently, his brother had been interested in making him suffer.

He still looked ill, but little by little he seemed to be getting better.

"Do you expect me to go around like this, then?" He had slung the towel around his slender waist.

She pointed groggily to the clothes on the bed, and Jareth looked at them, barely disguising his disgust. She had been about to scold him about how they were better than his own, destroyed clothing, but he reached out for them and disappeared before she could. He dropped the towel, causing her to look away with a blush rising to her cheeks. He didn't seem to care about his own nudity, and Sarah took the opportunity to grab something clean and slink into the bathroom.

She locked the door, she couldn't trust that he wouldn't come in and start making demands while she was showering. She got the water as hot as it would go before stepping in. She was reminded of the abuse she'd suffered, the injury on her head, the scratches on her arms and legs, the mark, burning away at her hip. It had subsided in his presence, but the hot water caused her to hiss out in pain. She looked down at it, finding that it had fully taken shape. It was an eye. Or at least, a child's rendering of an eye. This whole thing was so surreal that some part of Sarah was still sure she'd wake up tomorrow and it would all be gone.

Sarah washed the black from her feet and her legs, finding she felt much better after washing away all remnants of the damp cell and their death march through his grounds and then the streets of New York. She dried herself off and put on the pajamas she'd taken out of her room; a pair of floral shorts with a matching buttoned top. She expected to find him standing there, but when she went looking for him she found him standing in the kitchen pressing the toaster down only to watch it pop back up.

He had been stealing children for years, surely a toaster wasn't that far of a stretch for him? Surely he'd seen one before? She supposed he didn't spend much time in kitchens when it came to kidnapping, as that was his usual goal. She watched him curiously, thinking he looked much better. He had thrown on the loose fitting shirt that was a washed out gray color. The pants were too short for him, but he'd rolled them up a bit to make it look as if it was purposeful.

He turned to look at her, curiously. He briefly took note of her wet, inky hair, and the exposed skin that was now dotted with scratches and bruising. He looked uninterested in what he saw, turning his strange eyes back to the toaster, pressing it down again.

"Of all the bloody things," He muttered. "That you should be the one to rescue me from that,"

"I'm tired," She said. "I'm going to sleep,"

"What is this used for?" He asked, watching it pop up after a few moments, only to press it back down.

"I'll explain it later,"

She returned to the linen closet, setting out blankets and pillows for him on her couch. She found him still standing in the kitchen, now messing with the coffee percolator. The kitchen was a whole new world for the fearsome Goblin King, apparently.

"Uh, your highness?" Sarah asked, watching as he turned back to look at her. "Your bed is made," She couldn't help the sarcasm that crept into her voice.

"I'm not tired," He said, turning around and spreading his arms out behind him, leaning against the counter. He looked like he belonged there.

"Fine," Sarah said. "If you change your mind, you can sleep out there. Try not to break anything, and stay away from the cat," Sarah watched this mischievous look cross his face. "And don't go anywhere,"

Jareth turned back to the mystical kitchen instruments, looking like a scolded child. He began pressing the toaster back down again. She hoped he didn't keep doing it, the sound of it would be enough to drive her mad eventually.

listen i couldn't resist jareth being confused by a toaster.