The new world that impenetrable blackness birthed was blinding. Sarah shielded her eyes against the sudden glare using her free hand. The other was still held prisoner, though the cruel fingers that seized her had loosened their grip some. Squinting, she shifted her hand bit by bit, forcing herself to adjust to the light that slipped through her splayed fingers. When her eyes finally opened, she tumbled head first into a dream.

Gone was the dreary home she had thought would be her tomb; gone was the crumbling city, the poverty and the despair that oozed from every grey brick. She was standing beneath a sky painted in cinnamon and honey, and breathing in great gulps of air that tasted twice as sweet. That vision above stretched on for miles without so much as a single cloud in sight, and Sarah couldn't remember the last time she had seen a skyline so unimpeded, or so much wide open space. Mother Nature had taken that land back for her own, and she had graced it with nothing but hills and forests and – fuck – even what looked like mountains, as far as the eye could see. For a lifelong city dweller, it was almost too much to bear.

Her eyes rolled in their sockets as she tried to absorb it all at once, taking pleasure in what her brain knew could make no sense. She had to be hallucinating, finding comfort in what could only be a fantasy while death came knocking at her door. She wondered if she had fallen somehow, cracking her head hard enough to launch her into some desperate delusion that felt all too real. There was sunlight on her skin and grass beneath her feet – real grass, soft and springy beneath her heels, the fat green blades tall enough to reach up to her ankles. She couldn't recall the last time she had stood on anything other than hard floors, or the harsh, military buzz cut of the cemetery's lawn. The air she inhaled was purer than she could have ever dreamed it could be, heavy and rich. Every breath that slipped past her lips tasted of life, and she knew without thinking that to breathe too deeply would be to become drunk on it. Who needed drugs – hell, who needed anything else – when just breathing in could feel that way?

Sarah closed her eyes and tilted her face up towards that sweet orange sky, letting its warmth rain down on her body, and for the first time in years, she felt alive.

"Yes," she whispered.

She had almost forgotten her strange companion, when Jareth squeezed her wrist, coaxing her back down to earth. His voice came in a low murmur.

"I know, pet, I know, but there isn't time for this. We need to move."

Just the sound of his voice sent ripples of pleasure through her body, and Sarah turned to face him with a sleepy smile. She had feared the man only moments ago, but now she felt almost hypnotised by his beauty. There was an almost angelic aura to him, a halo of golden hair falling around that perfect face, and that heavenly, dazzling blue light which sparkled in his eyes. His pale skin now seemed to glow with health. Even the tattered clothes he wore had been restored to their former aristocratic glory, draping him in rich, bright colour. He seemed unreal, and she had to touch him, for her own peace of mind. Her fingers trembled as she reached out a hand to his face. His skin was smooth and warm, and it sent tingles running all the way up her arm. He radiated power – some pure, white energy that, away from the grim city, could finally reach its full potential. Still, she was not afraid.

With the warmth of his smooth cheek cradled in her palm, she almost felt like she could love him.

"Why is this all so perfect?" she breathed.

Jareth sighed and turned his face into her palm, a faint smile curving that gorgeous mouth. He pressed a light kiss to the base of her thumb before he urged her hand away. "This place wants you, love, but it knows it can't keep you – that's why it's fighting so hard to charm you. I need you to concentrate for me, all right? I need you to put one foot in front of the other and follow me. Can you do that?"

Sarah tried to do as she was asked, but even trying to take the smallest step was like trying to drag her feet through a pit of molasses. Every last blade of grass seemed to cling to her shoes, begging her to remain right where she was. Her legs felt far too heavy, all the way down there at the end of her body, when all the rest of her longed to just float away. Her eyes rolled up towards that beautiful sky once more, and all she wanted to do was soar. A woman's merry laughter tinkled in her ears, and she began to giggle all the harder when she realised it was her own.

"Sarah! Damn it all! Snap out of it!" Jareth cupped her face in both hands and stared into her eyes. "Look at me, Sarah. Look only at me."

It was a command she obeyed all too happily. She drank him in like she would never be able to get enough, eyes wide and amazed, filled with him. Every blink of his eyes, every slight twitch of muscle in his face was fascinating to her. She watched as he pursed his lips, and her heart tipped over in her chest. Her eyes fell closed as she waited, breathing slow and heavy, for his sweet kiss.

What met her lips instead was a warm puff of air. Her eyes flickered open just in time for Jareth to blow gently into them. She gave a soft mewl of protest, but as he drew her into his arms, she did not resist. He continued to give her his breath, letting it roll over her nose and cheeks and each ear, but the more he gave, the worse it felt. Reality began to creep its way back through her senses, and the elation she had felt began to fade. He was taking it from her, bit by bit, stealing the heaven that surrounded her, and all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut, moaning her dismay as Jareth held her against his chest.

"Gi' back …" she heard herself mumble.

"Shh, love. It's all right. It's all right, but you have to snap out of it now, okay? Come on, move, that's it, it'll be better now."

He nudged her head away from his chest, and Sarah pulled back, blinking, turning her face back into the light. The world around her was still the same – sweet vernal ambience and golden-hued skies – but now she could simply savour its beauty, rather than reeling in starry-eyed surrender. Speaking of surrender …

Clarity crashed down on her like ice water, and her eyes widened. When she realised she was still curled up in Jareth's arms, pawing at his soft coat and chiselled face like an affectionate kitten, she jumped back with a small yelp. What in god's name had she been thinking?

Rather than being offended by the action, Jareth only seemed amused by her distaste.

"Much better. I was beginning to wonder if I'd need the use of a pry bar to get you off me. Now-"

A weak sound of humiliation crept up from her throat, and she could feel her face growing hot. "I didn't mean to … I mean, it's not like I wanted to …" Her companion's smug little smile was enough to push her from shame to irritation. "Okay, what the hell is going on? What was that? It was the Z, wasn't it? Otherwise I would have never-"

"Sarah, as much as I'd enjoy hearing the full extent of your thoughts as the injured party here, I'm afraid it'll have to wait. We have to go."

"But I don't understand how we could have-"

"There isn't time for you to understand. We need to run, and fast. Now move, damn you!"

He had given her no reason to trust him, but the urgency she saw in those glowing eyes of his got her moving. Rather than fighting his hold or demanding answers, she took her first shaking steps forward into a new world. Walking quickly became a jog, and soon she was struggling to keep up with Jareth's frantic pace. She stumbled on after him, her shoes sinking into the fresh earth beneath her as she lagged at the end of Jareth's tight grasp. The sun beat down upon her shoulders, but soon enough it grew colder, as the bright world around her began to close in. Black-winged butterflies began to flutter and dance before her eyes, and she fell down into the soft grass, where even the dew that kissed her skin quickly dried to dust.

Jareth came down beside her, clutching at her shoulders. He seemed to be trying to lift her, dragging her into his arms, but her body would not comply.

"-up, Sarah. Please, you need to get-"

His desperate plea followed her down into the dark.

When she came back to herself, she was buried up to her ears in gold, and struggling to breathe. Coughing and spluttering, she pulled back, tossing her head to free herself from the ticklish strands that surrounded her, clinging to her cheeks and lips. The scent of leather and wood smoke hit her a moment too late, as did a certain heavy warmth between her thighs. Only when she had finally managed to free her face from her companion's wild hair, did she realise that she was sprawled across his lap. The two of them appeared to have landed in yet another dark alleyway, judging from the grimy bricks and trashbags surrounding them. It was hardly a view Sarah would have picked for a scenic postcard, but at least it was home. It still didn't explain how they'd managed to escape from her apartment, or that strange and beautiful world her mind had managed to conjure. Her mind held no clear answers, and her body just seemed to melt down onto the floor.

She felt a firm pressure upon her hips, and realised that Jareth seemed to be holding her steady atop him; with her reflexes shot to shit and both her arms dangling at her sides, that grip was the only thing preventing her from kissing the wall behind his back. Rather than enjoying the intimacy of having a woman in his lap, he was already working on tipping her out of it as he struggled back onto his feet. The two of them caught their balance together, though relying on the firm wall of Jareth's chest brought yet more heat to her face. With how easily he seemed to make her blush, Sarah was beginning to wonder if being around him for much longer would cause permanent damage to her blood vessels. When she risked a glance at him, she felt a surge of relief to see that eerie blue light that had captured his eyes had already begun to fade. Though they had run only a short distance, he still seemed to be breathing hard.

"You … all right?" he panted. The ball of his thumb circled her exposed hipbone, where her sweater had ridden up.

A sleepy nod was all she could manage right then, but it seemed to satisfy him. He smoothed her sweater back down into its proper place before his grip on her loosened. The loss of his touch seemed to help her back down to earth. The cool night air did wonders for her senses, though the smell of rotting garbage did not. She wrinkled up her nose as she looked around. Thankfully, the two bags containing all her earthly possessions seemed to have made the journey with them. Her muddled mind had so many questions, but her body moved easily enough as she bent to scoop them up.

"You going to tell me what just happened, and how the hell we ended up streets away from my apartment?" she threw back over her shoulder.

When Jareth did not immediately answer, she cast an eye in his direction. Her heart jolted at what she saw. The man was slumped back against the wall as if his whole body would collapse without it. He had seemed brighter, healthier in that dream world, and yet now he seemed paler than ever – sickly almost. Though the temperature that day was nowhere near freezing, he seemed to be shivering, even in his long coat. Sarah quickly glanced away before he could catch her studying him. She took longer than necessary to make sure her belongings were all present and accounted for, fiddling with a strap here and there as Jareth rested. Under the circumstances, it was probably the kindest thing to do. By the time she was finally done fussing with the backpack's zipper, he was standing tall again with no assistance, and his usual insouciant little smile was back in place.

"Soon enough, but not here," he said, as if there had been no pause. "We didn't move as quickly as I would have liked, thanks to you. We're out of any immediate danger now, but only by a block or two. We need to keep moving. Look, as you've probably gathered, when I said I had certain connections, I didn't mean people. I can get you where you need to be, away from your pursuers, but I'm afraid you're just going to have to trust me and tag along in the meantime. The sooner we find a bus that can take us to the other side of the city, the better. Can you point us in the right direction?"

Sarah considered her options. Her apartment was still only a short walk away, but she no longer felt safe there – particularly if she'd been spotted trying to burn it down. She had no other place to go, nothing and no one to pin her hopes on except the strange man standing before her. If he could somehow save her, then she had a longer life to look forward to. If not, at least humouring him for a few hours would get them out of that stinking alley. Right then, it seemed like as good a way as any to kill a little time before her inevitable death.

"Sure, what the hell? Let's go."

She wasted no time in taking the lead, and made a point of shouldering both of the bags this time, casting a watchful eye over him as she did so. The man was still as pale as death, but if he was feeling well enough to run a hand over his wild hair, smoothing down his silken locks, she decided he probably wasn't going to keel over any time soon.

The bus was maybe a quarter of the way full when they climbed on, and Jareth took the heavy lurch of the vehicle in his stride as he led her to the empty back row. He seemed to have no qualms leaving her to pay both their fares. The moment Sarah had secured her bags and sat down beside him, she turned to him for answers.

"So, how did we get out of my apartment, and what was that place?"

A hint of a smile touched at Jareth's mouth. "Home," he said, and then the smile was gone. "Or so it was. Now, I can only visit, and that's only with the aid of a little glass vial – the Zydrate that can give me a tiny taste of a power I once took for granted. Consider it a place where your earthly troubles and enemies can't get at you, though you can never stay for long." He sighed to himself. "For those unused to that land, it can seem like a dream come true. From what I know of your life, you haven't been truly happy for some time, and that made it far easier for you to be drawn in. I should have known that, I should have …" Shaking his head, he glanced out of the streaky bus window. "That's all for later. For now, let's just concentrate on getting where we're going."

Sarah rubbed a hand across her eyes. Her head still felt thick and too full from those few moments of wonder, and now that she had tasted what heaven was like, that stuffy old bus and its occupants stank worse than ever. That strange world had smelled of hope, of new life and new beginnings, but this … this reeked of desperation and sheer survival. Sarah wondered how many other poor souls on that bus with them had made a deal with the GeneCo devil too; how many of them were breathing and stinking up the already foetid air with dismay, disease and death, simply existing through each day as they waited for their time to run out. Sudden panic clawed at her throat, and she seized hold of Jareth's upper arm just to have something to hold onto. "How did you take us there? Where is 'there'?" she demanded. "And … how can we get back?"

His gloved fingers came up to cover her own. "Patience, love. Time is short, as I'm sure you're aware, but there's enough left for this – enough for rest. Just sit back for a while. The details will come in time."

Sarah peered at him in his weary state, remembering that radiance he had emanated, all that energy and almost eerie beauty. She recalled the wild spark in his eyes and that warming breath, and how in that moment he had held her close to him, he had touched hands with her soul. "You're … not from around here, are you?" she said, after a time. Jareth's low laughter urged a smile.

"Not even close, but you could say I'm enjoying an extended stay in this city – although 'enjoying' isn't quite the word." He patted her hand again. "Just rest, love. I … I need to rest. I'll explain all in due course."

As he settled into silence, there was nothing to do but follow his gaze out of the fogged-up windows, watching as the world around them crept by. He seemed almost to have forgotten the hand that covered hers, but as Sarah slowly, cautiously let her head rest against his shoulder, he gave her fingers a squeeze. The two of them stared out through the smeared glass at the ghost of the city as time ticked on towards midnight.

When they pulled into the bus depot, Jareth was already on his feet, the long tails of his coat swinging as he rocked his way down the aisle. The moment the doors opened, he had one foot out of them. His boots thumped against the ground as he headed inside, with Sarah hot on his tail. The two of them made their way through the roiling crowd, squeezing their way through a host of other downcast travellers. They passed by the lost and the lonely, the exhausted workers, the teenage runaways and the huddled homeless, all with their wide, dead eyes; they passed the overpriced vending machines and the brightly-lit advertisements for a newer, better, GeneCo you, as Sarah's guts twisted themselves into despairing knots.

At last, Jareth drew to a halt when they reached a bank of personal lockers. They were covered in graffiti, their dark blue paint scarred and stained with countless initials, pitted with the dents of angry fists. Sarah noticed that one of the locker doors had been busted open. From the way Jareth's whole body stiffened and the dark look in his eyes, Sarah had a good idea who it might have belonged to.

"Hell's fucking teeth," he hissed, and turned on his heel, striding with new purpose towards the exit doors. Sarah followed him with her eyes for several seconds before her feet finally managed to catch up.

"Uh, Jareth? Care to tell me what's going on here?"

"Fucking thieves," he growled, without a hint of irony. "Someone came here earlier today with the intention of finding a special locker to break into. That someone just so happened to pick the right one out of all these other options, and they walked out of here with a new twenty-dollar jacket. Now, you might consider that to be a cheap coat, and no great loss to me – that is, unless you bring into consideration the ten little blue gifts that I had personally sewn into its lining."

His eyes narrowed as they focussed dead ahead, set on his new path. "Someone thought it would be a good idea to double-cross me. Fortunately, I have a good idea of just who that someone is."


Chapter title from: Zydrate Anatomy