Thanks for all your support :D I'm loving your reviews :P And all those people who are adding to alerts and faves :D I'm sure you all know how awesome it is to wake up and have at least ten e-mails of reviews and alerts :D They are what made me do this one ASAP.
I keep forgetting to do this: I DO NOT OWN LABYRINTH! AT ALL! I only wish that Jareth was real.
Sarah had fallen asleep on the sofa. She had said little to nothing after her friend had left other than asking him to stay. He had almost been ready to scream back at her the way she had with him; to be stubborn and childish. But he found that even the cruelty in him could not overcome the twinge in his chest that made him want to protect her from what she was so scared of.
She gave a small twitch in her sleep and he paused in his inner thoughts for a moment to make sure that she stayed that was (she must have been exhausted, after all). Then she sighed and snuggled into the cloak he'd draped over her. He gave a quiet exhale of breath of his own.
Earlier, he had not meant for her to get angry at him. He had known she would jump to that conclusion, but it still stung, even now. He kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. When he'd grabbed her arm to try to slow her, the look on her face had damn near floored him. So afraid; so vulnerable, he thought heavily. She had looked like she wanted to cry and to hit him at the same time. Terrified. He could not believe that she thought he would ever hurt her. Although it should not have surprised him, it did.
He had recognized something in her eyes too. It was pain. Of betrayal and hurt and something lost. Heartbreak. Had she really loved the demon Nøkken as Neal? Only to discover he was not who she thought he was. He supposed it would have been rather traumatic for her to have trusted someone so much and then to have them not only lash out at her, but try to kill her too.
Jareth shook himself. Why should he even care? She had shattered his own heart four years ago. And yet he still found himself not wanting her to experience that pain.
He glanced down at her again. She was curled tightly on her side, her nose and mouth hidden by his midnight blue cloak. Her dark hair was slightly wavy and it was splayed around her wildly. He took a lock of it between his gloved fingers and let it fall again. As it brushed her cheek, she flinched.
"Don't," she mumbled in her sleep.
He frowned. She was not speaking to him: she was still sound asleep. He was only a little curious as to what was troubling her dreams, but he opted not to peek. In a way, he was not sure he wanted to know.
She suddenly jerked a little and gasped. Without thinking, he lay his hand down on her arm. Immediately, she seemed to relax, sinking back into peaceful slumber once more. With a sigh of resignation, he moved slightly so that he was sitting on the sofa beside her. She hardly took up any room at all, so he was not cramped.
Keeping his hand on her arm, he trailed his thumb back and forth. She was deeply asleep, but he was certain she could feel his gesture of comfort through the thin fabric of the dark cloak. A quiet mewl escaped her lips and for a moment, he had to stop himself from moving. He mentally slapped himself. Simple sleepy noises were not meant to make one's blood race.
"The things you do to me," he breathed aloud.
"Mm-hm," she mumbled back.
The ghost of a grin flitted across his lips. He lifted his hand from her arm and turned away from her. He curled his arms to rest them on the arm of the sofa and laid his head there. Sleep was overtaking him quickly tonight. Perhaps it had been a long day for both he and Sarah.
Sarah jerked so violently that she startled herself awake. She blew out a tremulous breath and wiped a sheen of sweat from her brow. The details of the nightmare were forgotten but the anxiety that came with such things still lingered.
When she sat up, something warm but thin slipped from her shoulders. She glanced down in time to see some kind of dark blanket fall to the floor. Reaching down to pick it back up, she realized with a start that this was the cloak Jareth had placed on her shoulders after he'd pulled her from the lake.
Peeking down at the other end of the sofa, she saw Jareth's form in the darkness rising and falling slowly. She leaned to the side and saw that his head rested on his own arms which were lounging on the arm of the couch. His legs were falling diagonally to the floor due to his posture.
"Jareth?" she asked uncertainly.
He continued to snore lightly.
With his cloak still wrapped around her shoulders, she stood and tiptoed over to the window. She glanced through the small crack in the curtains, but the street was completely deserted save for a cat who was chasing after a rat.
She looked back over at Jareth. He was still fast asleep. She placed the cloak back down at his side and moved into the kitchen, seeking water. Her arm stretched up to a high shelf to grab a glass. She felt along the objects there, unable to see what was a glass and what was not in the dim light.
Suddenly, her chest - her ribs, in fact - gave a painful spasm. As she hissed through her teeth, a glass toppled from the shelf. Gripping her side, she thrust her free hand out to catch the glass. It was just her luck that she missed and it shattered on the floor.
"Shit," she muttered, taking a step forwards. Her foot came down on something sharp and she leapt away. "Ow!"
Just as the kitchen light came on, she toppled over completely. The brightness hit her eyes harshly, and she shied away from it.
"What on Earth are you doing?" Jareth asked, faint traces of amusement in his voice.
Inside, Sarah seethed. It was just like him to find her misfortune funny.
"Sitting on the floor," she said bitterly, still gripping her side which was throbbing.
As he began to approach her, she felt the sole of her foot gingerly. Not giving it a second thought, she jerked the small piece of glass she felt there out of her skin. It hurt the same as before, and a few drops of blood fell onto the pristine kitchen floor.
She would clean that later, she thought as she reached forwards to scoop up the broken glass now littering the floor. Two gloved hands reached out, though, and prevented her own from going near the dangerous shards.
"Don't touch them," he warned. "You will only injure yourself further."
She watched as a clear crystal ball formed in his hand and swept over the shards of glass which all disappeared. Jareth then crouched down in front of her. Slowly and gently - as if he was somehow trying not to scare her - he took her ankle in his hand and lifted her leg slightly.
He used his teeth to pull the glove off his right hand and he held his index and middle finger up to her foot where she knew there to be a cut. A strange tingling sensation, much like pins and needles, shot over her foot. Just like that, however, it was gone and her foot no longer hurt.
"What is wrong?" Jareth asked, nodding to her side which she was still clutching.
"Oh," she said stupidly. Not sure why she was lying to him, she said, "That's nothing."
His gaze became stern and she looked away.
"Just forget about it," she muttered.
Sarah tried to stand, but Jareth moved his hands from her ankle to her upper arms, not letting her move.
"Whatever it is, I can fix it," he said.
"It's fine," she insisted.
Jareth gave a low growl and pulled her closer. The sudden movement and the slipperiness of the floor caused her to slide under him. In a moment of panic, she brought her hands up and pushed against his shoulders. A small whimper escaped her.
She glanced up into his eyes, and his stare was hard and even angry.
"Jareth, just leave it!" she snapped. "You're hurting me."
His expression softened and his grip loosened, but he still did not let her go.
"That is not my intention, Sarah," he promised. "Just let me see it."
His voice was soft. It caressed her name like a feather. He let her go slowly so that she could gain some kind of balance and he moved back to give her space. She lifted her t-shirt slightly to show him the dark bruise.
He studied the blemish for a few moments, his face growing significantly darker.
"You told me you had no bruises," he said, voice dangerously low.
"I lied," she answered bravely.
"Sarah, this is broken. Have you any idea how dangerous an injury this is to have?"
"So heal it, if you're so worried! And stop getting so pissy with me!"
Jareth glanced up at her and for a moment, she expected him to maybe scream at her. But he gave a short laugh and held his fingers to the bruise. She felt it tingling, then the pain was gone. The bruise remained though.
Jareth pulled his glove back on as Sarah got to her feet. She yawned widely and leaned on the fridge for support.
"Go to bed, Sarah," Jareth suggested, though it sounded strangely like a command to her. "You've had a long day."
He was right. And she was exhausted from it. Without more than a simple "Okay" muttered to him, she left the kitchen and hurried up the stairs. She closed the door to her bedroom immediately behind her and curled up on the bed.
Why could she not relax around him? She was either scared, angry, upset or all three. It had only been a few hours and it was extremely tiring.
Hopefully, things would be different tomorrow.
Shorter chapter. Very Jareth-ful at the start. PLEASE review :D I love getting them :D And I love getting back to you :P
