Notes: I am perfectly aware that this is, ideally, set in 1988 and the song used was not recorded until 1989 – '92 if you're not a hardcore fan. I'm taking creative liberties; and if that doesn't work…TARDIS? (Song used is the Gin Blossom's "Lost Horizons". The poem is Christina Rossetti's "Goblin Market". (Which, granted, may be a bit overused in this fandom, but it's still one of my favorites.))
What Babe?
Three: Must Not, Must Not
Normally, there, they don't get music. It's encouraged against, because the Men and Women don't know how it will affect the Others.
Those rules don't necessarily apply to their lunch breaks, however, so when Charlie finds her curled up on a stone bench in the garden ('It's not sparkly enough,' her mind bites) she's not entirely surprised to find the headphones on his head. He smiles and sits down next to her, asking her how her morning's been. He comments about the night that's passed since they last spoke, and she barely listens. Her eyes are narrowed on the walkman in his hands, and after a moment he seems to notice.
"Oh, this? You want to listen, Sarah?" he asks, and she glances up to see a warm smile on his face. "I don't think the docs will mind too much. Jay told me you like music."
Jay…
"Sing for me?" she asked, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He scoffed and looked away, as if the very idea was demeaning. She could see the teasing glint in his mismatched eyes, though, and her smile grew as she cuddled closer to him. "Please, Jareth? Sing for me?"
"Whatever would I sing for you, precious thing?" he asked, arms snaking around her to wrap about her middle. She sighed and looked up, smiling at the summer stars. Toby was sleeping peacefully in his crib, and she could hear his deep breathing from where they were curled on the window seat.
"Something, anything. I don't really care. I just like it when you sing," she said. She grinned up at him, cheekily. "And I know you like to sing, sooo…"
"What shall I sing you, Sarah mine? Shall I sing you of how I'd hold you when the world falls down?" he asked, and she shivered in his arms.
"That won't happen," she said, firmly. She turned in his arms, looking up at him. It was so strange, thinking of where they started and now…she couldn't imagine him being a villain. She loved him, as much as her teenaged heart knew how, and he… "Everything's perfect, and it's going to stay perfect. And even if it doesn't –"
"I'll hold you, precious thing, as the world falls down," he murmured, the old song covering her like a caress.
Her head snaps away, but a glance out of her eye shows that Charlie is still smiling as he removes the headphones.
"It's this new group, really obscure but pretty good. I think you'll like 'em," he says, and the music has a rocky hint to it that puts her on edge. Not quite the same, but close enough to…
"She had nothing left to say, so she said she loved me. I stood there grateful for the lie…"
Her skin prickles, like that old tingle when magic was swirling through the air. Like…like…
"Want some?" Charlie asks, holding his Coke out to her. She glances at him, unsure, but his smile is friendly and she warily takes a sip. When it doesn't hurt her, she takes another. He laughs and shakes his head. "Man, Sarah, I don't get you. You seem like you could be fine most days, if not a little withdrawn. You don't seem like you should be in this place."
He looks across the garden and nods to Mrs. Smithson, who's dancing with an invisible partner. He says, "Her? She should be here. Sweet lady nearly walked into speeding traffic last time she was out. But you? I don't get you, Sarah. It's like you could get better if you wanted, but you just don't. And that goblin delusion? You know those things ain't real, girl."
"Maybe I could use you to reassure myself – I wouldn't wish this indecision on anybody else…"
"But they are," she says, and Charlie jumps. It's the first time she's spoken to him since…
"You're strutting!" she laughed, clapping as he pivoted to face her. His grin was wolfish, and she squealed as he dove for her. He knocked her back onto the bed, looking down at her as if he was starving and wanted nothing more than to devour her.
"I, precious thing, do not strut," he said, his voice low and dangerous. She laughed breathlessly, her chest rising and falling with each heavy inhale.
"You don't? That looked a lot like strutting to me. Or perhaps we should allow your flair for the dramatic and call you a peacock – then you'd be preening," she sing-songed the last word, and he growled. He dipped his head, and her squeal was silenced by his lips in a
"I drink enough of anything to make this world look new again. And when sin smiles, how could it be wrong?"
"They're real," she says, more to block out the memories – no, no, no, they can't be. Not memories. Not…no. Peaches. More peach dreams, illusions planted in her mind to make her forget what's important.
That wasn't how it happened, Jay wasn't some fairytale king hero, and Toby…
"Sarah, how do you –" Charlie tries to ask, but she shakes her head.
"They're real, and they took my brother," she says, her voice firm. That's all he needs to know, really. "'We must not look at goblin men, we must not buy their fruits…'"
"The last horizons I can see I now resigned to memories. I never thought I'd still be here today…"
"Sarah?" Charlie asks, reaching to touch her arm, but the songs of peach dreams are swirling with the song on his walkman and those vicious, vicious fake memories and…and…
"We must not look at goblin men, we must not buy their fruits…we must not look at goblin men, we must not buy their fruits…must not buy their fruits, must not…must not…" she gasps, her hands coming to clamp around her ears as she falls forward off the bench. She curls in on herself and screams, screams, screams…turn it off, turn it off, no, please, no music…no, no, no…
Why would she want him to sing for her? No, no, no, not real – never real. Must not look at goblin men, must not buy their fruits…
"I drink enough of anything to make myself look new again. Drunk, drunk, drunk in the gardens and the graves…"
