For Keeps

Sarah's been out of the Labyrinth for 6 month, and her seemingly instant maturity hasn't gone unnoticed. When Jareth shows up, seeking to understand how she beat him, things progress down a path neither could have anticipated. JS

Disclaimer: I own the first volume of Return to Labyrinth manga.

Chapter Four:


"So let me get this straight," Sarah said to Peter as she signed the contract, "I'm going to spend eight am to six pm doing gymnastics for the next six weeks?" Peter's eyes looked grim. They really didn't match the cozy little corner of the Starbucks they were in.

"Yeah, kid. I hope you hadn't planned on having a life," he replied. Those words brought to mind Jareth, and Sarah suddenly felt a sharp pang of loss.

"Nope. It kinda just walked out on me last night," she said, her voice just as bitter sounding as Peter's had at the audition. Of course, at the intimation of a possible relationship, Peter was suddenly all business. He was his job before anything else. Well, most of the time.

"You had a relationship? With who? Anyone that can get us-" he corrected himself, "you- publicity?" Sarah laughed at that. Oh, yes. He could definitely get them publicity, but not the kind that Peter meant. Sarah mused for a moment on what would happen if she showed up to the premiere of this new, exhausting movie, which Peter claimed was her big break, with Jareth...

"Nope," she said. "Just this crush I had when I was fifteen." Peter looked kind of dejected. "If you think you're put out by that, think how I feel."

"Oh." Sarah rolled her eyes at the pitiful sounding response he gave and lightly punched his arm.

"Don't sound so sad. You're making me as bitter as you," she chided. Peter laughed at that.

"You're anything but bitter, Sunshine," he replied. Sarah's face grew sullen at that. She was suddenly reminded of some very familiar words that had haunted her dreams not too long ago.

"Live without the sunlight..."

"You'd be surprised, Peter. You'd be really surprised," she said, allowing him to see the sadness in her eyes. Whatever he saw there must've scared the crap out of him because Peter rarely touched her, and now he suddenly had his hands on her shoulders.

"Jesus, Sarah. What the hell happened? What'd he do to you?" he suddenly lowered his voice, noticing the looks they were getting from the nearby customers in the Starbucks. "Did he rape you?" That got a laugh from Sarah. She and Jareth had discussed the particular subject of what would happen if she got raped. Jareth had said simply that it wouldn't happen. When Sarah asked why, he had simply said that he would castrate the man before he could even pull her pants down. The memory made her smile for a moment, and then she remembered that she wouldn't be seeing Jareth for a very long time.

"No," she sighed. "We were just friends. It was never like that." But even as the words left Sarah's lips she felt strangely as though she had lied. What about all those nights they had spent just staying up, content to be in each other's presence as she did homework and his gaze ever lingering on her? What about when he had comforted her after her little mishap with Stephen? What about the way her body tightened when he held her?

"Sounds like it," Peter said sarcastically, noticing the heated look on Sarah's face.

"Shut up, Peter." She scowled, and the blonde agent laughed.

"You've got so much talent kid, you make Winona look like Paulina," Peter said, smiling. Sarah's scowl darkened.

"That could be taken badly," Sarah replied darkly.

"How?"

"You could be calling me ugly." That got a laugh out of him.

"Come on, kid. I'll drive ya to your first day of gymnastics boot camp," Peter said as he stood up, coffee in hand.

"Oh, goody," Sarah replied as she followed him out the door. Sarah couldn't help but feel a knot of dread tighten in her stomach. "Please, don't let this be an omen."


"You're the girl?" a heavily Russian accented voice called to Sarah as she stood, looking out at the athletes who were practicing in the gym. She looked around and spotted a small, tan man with a full head of white hair and blue eyes. Before Sarah could reply, he sized her up and commented, "A little tall, don't you think?" If Sarah had been an owl she would've been ruffling her feathers. As it was, she simply blushed.

"I can only go to seven this weekend," was the first thing she blurted out. Sarah felt the blush burning at her cheeks fervently. She looked on as a strawberry blonde did what she recognized as a round off and a backhandspring and what she didn't recognize as a double back pike on a tumble track. The man in front of her finally realized what she meant.

"Whatever," he said with a disgruntled wave of his hand. "Sarah! Come here!" Sarah looked confused for a second, but then she saw the strawberry blonde coming their way.

"Yeah, Victor?" The other Sarah was wearing a black velvet leotard with no sleeves; she left the brunetter feeling very insecure in the sweatpants and t- shirt she was wearing.

"Get this girl the green and silver leo," he ordered. "And have her do condition and line drills." Before either Sarah could reply he walked off to tell some blonde to do a triple back layout.

"I'm Sarah, too" Sarah said.

"Well, that's gonna be confusing," she grinned. "You can just call me something else if you'd like." She lead Sarah through a corridor towards a dark room.

Sarah shook her head. "No, I'll pick a new name. You've been here longer." The other Sarah ran her hand along the wall until she hit the light switch. She flicked it, and a light came on. The room had two racks of leotards of varying color and design.

"I guess we can just call you whatever your last name is," the shorter girl said. Sarah hadn't realized that she was, in fact, quite tall. This girl was about 5'2" and she had seemed to be one of the taller girls. Sarah mentally cursed her five foot seven inches of height.

"Williams," she replied as the other Sarah looked for the leo that Victor had specified. "Is Victor the owner or whatever?"

"Yeah. The head coach, too. He's from Russia, obviously. You think that after twenty years here, his accent would be at least a little less prominent. I think it's just gotten worse," she said, taking a hanger with a leotard off the rack. The leotard was a velvety deep forest green with silver swirls of silk stretching across the right hip to the left shoulder like the elaborate gossamer of a spider web. "God. When did Victor have good taste?" she said, handing the hanger to Sarah. "The changing room's there," she said, pointing a finger at a door opposite the one they came in through. Sarah briefly observed that the basic color scheme of the entire place was white. Even hospitals had more color to their rooms...

"Thanks," Sarah replied, going inside to change. She locked the door and shimmied out of her pants while thinking, "God. What have I gotten myself into?" She pulled off her shirt and took the leotard off the hanger. "It looks so...small." She put her feet through the leotard and pulled it up her legs. She slipped her arms through the arms holes of the tank top style and smoothed it out. A knock sounded on the door before the other Sarah's voice followed.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Sarah replied.

"There's a mirror out here." Sarah opened the door and looked to her right, where the gymnast was standing. She stood in front of the mirror. As soon as Sarah caught sight of herself, her face contorted.

"Do all of the leotards make your thighs look huge?" The other Sarah laughed.

"Yeah. Pretty much. I think you look great, though," she replied. "Come on, today's gonna be hell for you. I've never heard of Victor giving line drills and conditiong for a whole day before."

Sarah felt her stomach sink. Her only thought as she followed the strawberry blonde back to the gym floor was simple. "Shit."


"Jesus, Sarah. You look terrible," Peter said as Sarah climbed into his porsche. Sarah's hair, which was tied back in a ponytail, had frizzed slightly around her forhead and was wet with sweat. Beads of it were clinging to her forehead. Her face was flushed, and she held her body wearily, with shoulders slumped and her breathing shallow.

"Shut up and drive," she commanded. Peter smothered a laugh but couldn't help the smile.

"Yes, Your Majesty".

Sarah ran a chalky hand across her forehead in an attempt to wipe away the sweat. She hadn't bothered to change out of the leotard, and instead, she held her clothes over one arm. Peter turned the car radio on, and Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" came on.

"Ugh. This song is so played out," he said before searching through the stations. Afer about five minutes, he left it on a station when the opening notes of Aha's "Take On Me" blared on the speakers.

"I love this song!" Sarah exclaimed, coming to life. She rolled down her window, and Peter followed suit. They both sang along when the lyrics started out.

"We're talking away. I don't know what I'm to say. I'll say it anyway. Today's another day to find you shying away. I'll be coming for your love, OK?" Sarah smiled. This song just makes people happy. That's probably why it was rising in the charts... Take on me, take me on. I'll be gone in a day or two!" Sarah was the only one singing the end note. Peter's voice just couldn't get that high. They both sang the rest, Sarah being the only one to sing the ''two."

Peter glanced at Sarah, satisfied to see that the smile was back on her face. He'd never admit it aloud, but Sarah was like the kid sister he never had. When Adam Ant's "Goody Two Shoes" came on, he turned the volume down. Sarah gave him a quizzical look before he spoke. "You know, Sarah. I was thinking, about what you said about your boyfriend-"

"I told you, he's not my boyfriend," Sarah interrupted.

"Riiight," Peter said sarcastically. "So anyway- I was thinking, can he sing?"

Normally, Sarah would have freaked that he would ask such a coincidental question because she didn't believe in coincidence, but this was Peter. Peter was always thinking of random things, so she wasn't freaked out. In fact, more often than not, he was able to think exactly what she was. "Yes," Sarah replied. Her eyes suddenly narrowed. "Why?"

"Well," he said slowly. "I think it would be a great idea if you two cut a single together."

"Wh- what?" Sarah sputtered, choking in surprise on her spit.

"Yeah. You've got a terrific voice. If he could hold is own with you, then all I'd have to do is find a hit. That way, you can get more notice and publicity, and more people will want to know about you and who your honey is," he explained. Sarah just stared at him.

"No," she said.

"What? Why not?"

"Because I'm not going out with him, and because the idea of him being seen in public..." Sarah shivered with the thought. No, not because she was afraid of what Jareth would do. No, because she was afraid that she would actually be jealous when all the women started fawning over him, which they most certainly would.

"What? Is he hideous or something?"

"No! He's dead y." Sarah instantly wanted to bite the words back. She had actually just admitted aloud that she found Jareth attractive.

"Oh," Peter replied. "So you'd be jealous."

"Damn. He's good," Sarah thought as they turned onto her street. The weariness she felt was seeping back into her expression. "Peter, not that looking into my personal life isn't terribly fascinating, but I'd rather not." He pulled into her driveway. "Thanks for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow." Sarah opened the door and started to slip out of the car, but Peter caught her wrist.

"Sarah," he said, "I know that something's eating you up right now. I don't know what, but you know you can talk to me. I won't judge you or anything." Sarah looked down at Peter and felt a momentary urge to tell him what was happening in her life but didn't.

"Thanks, Peter. But I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, plastering on a fake smile. "You'll be at my show for school this weekend, right?"

"I thought you were doing independent study?" he asked, looking confused.

"I am, but I get to do the show since I've got the lead," she replied. He released her wrist.

"Okay. I'll be there. Grease, right?" She nodded.

"Bye, Peter," Sarah waved bye and shut the door. She could feel her muscles protest as she stretched them to walk up to the front door. As soon as she got in, Irene came out of the kitchen.

"So- how was your first day?"

"Terrible." And Sarah ran up the stairs, suddenly feeling very overcome with all the emotions of the day. She opened the door, flooding her dark room with the light from the hallway. Sarah, feeling the tears well up, dropped her clothes on the floor and tossed herself onto the red silken comforter of her bed. She clutched the pillow, which still happened to smell like Jareth, to her face and let tears soak it for the second time in a week.

"Damnit, Jareth. I don't know when," she began to sob something incomprehensible before continuing, "Don't know when it started or how it happened- but I need you." She held the pillow tighter, almost to the point of smothering, and cried. She cried for all the frustrations with her schoolmates, all her physical weariness, all her depression at losing Jareth... None of it made any sense, but she didn't care. All she knew was that Jareth wasn't there and that he probably wouldn't be coming back. If his pride was anything like before, he wouldn't be coming back. That was the last thought Sarah had before her tears left her to the land of slumber.


"If I may speak freely, Your Majesty?" Sir Didymus now spoke before the throne of the Goblin King. Jareth sat sideways in his chair, legs draped over one of the arms. The Goblin King raised an eyebrow but nodded, curious to see what Didymus would show him. He needed something to take his mind off Sarah... He hadn't even slept since setting Didymus and Ludo free. "You look like one who hath been smote with a most unlaughable affliction." Jareth glared at him.

"If you're going to talk about my appearance, then it's a no," he said, somehow managing to look menacing while reclining most comfortably in an uncomfortable chair.

"I beg your forgiveness. That wasn't what I was going to say. What I was going to say was-" he paused, whether to gather his wits about him of for effect, Jareth knew not, "I think I have a different punishment quite suitable for Hoggle that will solve you dilemna." That got Jareth's attention. He swung his legs down and placed his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his palms as he stared down at the knight.

"Oh?" He arched an eyebrow, trying to remain indifferent but failing.

"Yes. I do recall Hoggle saying that if Sarah ever kissed him, you'd turn him into the prince of the land of stench," he said. Jareth nodded, not quite sure where Didymus was going with this but interested all the same. The fox fidgeted where he stood before finally straightening himself and looking Jareth in the eye. "Why not?" Jareth's mismatched eyes of brown and blue widened in a moment of surprise before anger, cold and seething, set in.

"Get out, Didymus," he said, dropping the title. The little knight's eyes widened fearfully as he felt the icy- hot power of the Goblin King hit him like tendrils. Didymus wasn't sure whether the King was aware of his power permeating the room like a blast of icy snow, freezing and burning at the same time, but he didn't care to find out. Jareth was giving him a way out before he used magic to get rid of him forcefully, a very rude gesture to those familiar with the old ways.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said, bowing before him. "I am sorry about the who-"

"Go," Jareth said it calmly, coldly, but the word seemed to be bellowed with the way his magic was projecting and magnifying him. As soon as the little foxm squirrel thing was gone, Jareth allowed himself to let go completely. No one was really aware of the true extent of Jareth's powers. Before he had come into his Goblin Kingship thirteen hundred years ago, he had had to stifle them in order to stay alive. The High King could've easily seen Jareth as a threat and killed him. Now that he himself was Goblin King, he allowed himself a freer usage of his magic, as it would be seen as weakness if he did not exhibit greater power. Still, he could never really fully let go. Spies were everywhere, and the moment it was discovered that Jareth could be the most powerful being in all the Underground, evidence of some crime or another would be planted. Then, he'd be killed. And so- in a rare moment- Jareth let go.

The castle around him shook, and the stones began to dislodge themselves. He quickly realized that the magic of the castle couldn't sustain itself against him, so he transported to the Escher room. Here, the very pathways began to change. Stairs swung around to different walls, crumbled, or even simply ground themselves into dust. Jareth simply moved, punching every single thing that came within his range, which promptly turned into a lovely gray- blue hued dust, until only the walls remained. Jareth breathed a heavy sigh as he let him come to himself.

"Fuck, Sarah. I don't know what to do," he sighed again, laying against the ceiling as he ran his hand down his face. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, forcing the strange choking sensation that welled up inside him back down. "I don't know what to do."


Okay. So again- a short chapter. But I'm lazy and want to get another chapter up. This felt like a good place to end it.