Chapter X: As the World Falls Down

The Almighty Disclaimer

Oh Moffat, Gatiss, and Thompson

Oh Henson and Doyle,

And Pika-la Cynique the generous,

To you belongs all the characters

And none so for me!

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Thin White Sleuth…" by Pika-la-Cynique of Girls Next Door fame.

Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan.

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains suicides with a more graphic description of violence than I usually have written for this series.

&%&%&%

Jareth remembered people's names more than he let on to the general public. It was important as a king to know one's subjects as best as one could. He would "forget" Hoggle's name because the dwarf annoyed him. He "forgot" Molly's name because he was trying to see the strength of her patience. After five years working with Dr. Hooper, Jareth could safely say that Molly was truly one of the most patient people he knew.

Molly was also deeply loyal to Sarah and that was something that made Jareth more likely to trust someone.

Jareth sat in Molly's lab and waited for Molly to come out of her office. He came to Bart's as soon as he read the article.

Molly sighed when she turned off the lights in the lab and walked to the exit.

"You're wrong, you know," Jareth said.

Molly spun around and gasped.

"You do count. You have always counted and I have trusted you for a long time," Jareth said. He moved towards her. "But you were right. I'm not okay."

"Tell me what's wrong," Molly said.

"Molly… I think I'm going to die," Jareth said.

"What do you need?" Molly asked.

Jareth stopped in front of Molly. "If I wasn't everything that you think I am… everything that I think I am… what… what Sarah thinks I am, would you still want to help me?"

"What do you need?" Molly asked again.

"You, Dr. Hooper," Jareth said.

&%&%&%

When Sarah had fallen asleep in the library, Jareth sent a text to Moriarty. "Come and play. St. Bart's Hospital rooftop. P.S. Got something of yours you might want back."

&%&%&%

A little after Sarah left for Baker Street, Jareth got a reply. "I'm waiting... JM".

&%&%&%

Jareth was putting on his coat when Christiana came to him. "Kinsman, what are you doing?" the Goblin King said.

"I have something I must do," Jareth said.

"Are you going after the Gremlin King?" Christiana asked.

Jareth was silent.

"He will kill you, kinsman."

"I am aware of that Rossetti."

"Don't go."

"I have to."

"To save Sarah? I can… I can bring you both to the Labyrinth."

Jareth paused in his preparations. "I am banished, Christiana."

"It doesn't matter. Father is going to overthrow Oberon in the next few days." Christiana grabbed her uncle's arm. "You can come home. You can bring Sarah with you. You can be King of the Goblins again and Sarah will be your Queen. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

Jareth hugged his niece. "It doesn't matter what I want. Would you be able to protect all of my friends? Could you promise they would survive the war that will come?"

Christiana took a shaky breath. "No."

"If I end Moriarty's reign in this world, the people I care about here will not be pulled into that war."

"You don't know that," Christiana said. She refused to look up at Jareth.

"I am not important in the eyes of the High Court since I have no blood heirs and there is no possibility that there are heirs. Even if the worse happens today, my friends will be safe because why would the High Court care about humans?"

"What about us in the Underground?" Christiana pulled back.

"You will live on. I'm not important," Jareth said.

Christiana pinched Jareth's arm. "Never say that. You are important. If you… if you… it would be like pulling one thread and the entire tapestry comes undone. You don't see how important… important you are to us."

Jareth hugged Christiana again. They both started to cry.

"I remember the day you were born. I had gone to sleep because of how long the labor was. Your Father yanked me out of bed to show you off to me. I sat by the window in the little box seat in my childhood room. The sun was coming through the windows. You were born blonde and you looked so beautiful and glowing in the light of the sunrise. You were the reason… the reason I know that… you can love multiple people because, I still loved Dante and… thank you, Christiana, for making me better. I would never… have loved more than one person at any point in my life… if you… had… hadn't been born. My little Christiana. My goblin princess. My Goblin King."

"I can't lose someone else…"

"You will make it. You will survive. You will live. When you lose someone, live or else the dreams you built together with that person will be meaningless. Did I ever tell you that?"

Christiana nodded.

"It is true, even though it hurts. It hurts because it is true."

Jareth sang a quiet lullaby that he only knew a few words to, but it was the song Joanna sang to him before he was wished-away. It comforted him then and it comforted him now.

&%&%&%

"I have to go," Jareth said after a few minutes.

Christiana pulled back and wiped away the last of her wayward tears. Jareth kissed her forehead. "Tell the others. Dante, your Father, your… Mother, that I love them. And Christiana… I love you very much."

"I love you too, Uncle Jareth."

Christiana made a sweeping bow. "Goblin King."

Jareth bowed as well. "Goblin King."

&%&%&%

"Do you want to know the first rule of being Goblin King is, Jareth?"

The little boy nodded, looking on in awe at the magical creature before him.

"Always make an entrance."

Jareth had chosen the roof for many reasons. The least of which was the drama of it all. The sky above. The city of London surrounding St. Bart's. All of it made the roof less of a wasteland of necessary machines and empty spaces and more of a beginning of things.

Or the ending of things.

Jareth left his coat unbuttoned so that it flowed dramatically behind him. Everything he wore was black and white save for the green scarf.

Jim was sitting on the edge of the roof on the ledge with his phone in his hand as The Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive" played. He was wearing a medium length coat (not as dramatic as Jareth's, but it did have a leather collar which was a nice touch), a shirt so light pink it was almost white, his normal black suit, and a tie with a light pattern. Jareth was somewhat amazed that when facing his death the first thing he thought about was if his nemesis was better dressed than him. If Sarah got past the horror of this meeting, she would laugh at Jareth's vanity.

He would miss her laugh.

As Jareth walked toward Jim, Moriarty started to speak. "Ah. Here we are at last – you and me, Jareth, and our problem – the final problem. Stayin' alive! It's so boring, isn't it?" Moriarty switched off the phone. "It's just... staying."

Jareth began to pace.

Jim continued monologuing. "All my life I've been searching for distractions. You were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you. And you know what? In the end it was easy."

Jareth stopped pacing and folded his hands behind his back.

Moriarty seemed sorrowful. "It was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people. And it turns out you're ordinary just like all of them. Ah well." Jim stood up and walked closer to Jareth. Then he began to circle the detective. "Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?"

"Richard Brook," Jareth said, a slight smile on his face.

"Nobody seems to get the joke, but you do," Jim said.

"Of course. German was the second language I learned. Rich Brook in German is Reichen Bach – the case that made my name."

Moriarty used a bad American accent. "Just tryin' to have some fun."

Jareth tapped his fingers.

"Good. You got that too," Jim said.

"Beats like digits. Every beat is a one; every rest is a zero. Binary code. That is why all those assassins tried to save my life. It was hidden on me; hidden inside my head – a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system."

"I told all my clients: last one to Sherlock is a sissy," Jim said.

"You made one mistake though. Most would think it was binary code what you did in the flat, including your clients. But then, you are speaking to a man who had dinner with Bach, his second wife, and most of his children," Jareth said, "'Partita number one' by Johann Sebastian Bach. You know, none of the music sounds right, even with historically accurate instruments. I want to scratch out my ear drums sometimes at modern interpretations. That's why I didn't catch it at first. You must have given the code when you were tapping your fingers when Sarah gave her testimony. Very brazen of you."

Jim looked at Jareth for a moment and then turned away. "No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy. This is too easy." He turned back to Jareth. "There is no key, DOOFUS! Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless."

Jareth was silent but obviously confused.

"You don't really think a couple of lines of computer code are gonna crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed." Jim lumbered across the roof and made himself sound moronic, "I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Jareth."

"But… the war…"

"Will be Hell like it always is. No one has a major advantage."

"But then how did..."

"Then how did I break into the Bank, to the Tower, to the Prison?" James spread his arms wide "Daylight robbery! All it takes is some willing participants. I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness – you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building. It's a nice way to do it."

"Do… do what James?" After thinking it over, Jareth then turned to Jim. "Yes, of course. My suicide."

"'Genius Detective Proved to Be an Insane Fraud'. I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairy tales."

Jareth and Jim walked to the edge of the roof and leaned slightly forward to see the ground below them.

"And pretty Grimm ones too," Jim said.

"I am glad you have learned the importance of puns," Jareth said dryly. He turned towards Moriarty. "I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity."

Jim sighed. "Oh, just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort."

Jareth began to pace again.

"Go on. For me Goblin King. Pleeeeeease?"

Jareth grabbed Jim by the coat collar. The detective pushed Jim towards the edge of the roof.

"I am sorry James. I should have killed you when you said you wanted to kill Carl at the latest if not when you were in my custody. You would not have become this if I did that. You. Are. Insane."

"You're just getting that now?"

Jareth pushed Jim far enough that he was holding Jim's upper body over empty air. Moriarty held his hands out wide, unafraid.

"Okay, let me give you a little extra incentive, Goblin King. Your pets will die if you don't."

"Sarah?"

"Not just Sarah."

"Mrs. Hudson?"

"Everyone."

"Sherlock? Toby?"

"Everyone."

"Lestrade? John?"

"Six bullets; six gunmen; six victims. There's no stopping them now."

Jareth yanked Jim back to safety.

"Unless my people see you jump." Jim shook himself free of Jareth's grasp and smiled. "You can have me arrested; you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me; but nothing is gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only six friends in the world will die... unless..."

"...unless I kill myself. Complete your story of me as the cackling villain in the fairy tale."

Jim nodded and his smile grew wider. "You've gotta admit that's sexier."

"And I die in disgrace."

"Of course. That's the point of this," James said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

They both looked over the edge again. There were people beginning to come and go as the sun continued to rise, though the light was beginning to be obscured by rain clouds.

"Oh, you've got an audience now. Off you pop. Go on."

Jareth stepped onto the ledge slowly.

"I told you how this ends, Jareth."

Jareth looked down and his gloved hands shook.

"Your death is the only thing that's going to call off the killers. I'm certainly not gonna do it."

"…Would you give me... one moment, please? One moment of privacy, Doyle? A courtesy from one king to another?"

James looked disappointed. "Of course."

Jareth closed his eyes as Jim walked a few paces away. Jareth began to take several shallow breaths. He opened his eyes when he realized something James had said. The former Goblin King began to smile and then he honestly laugh.

Jim spun around. "What? What is it? What did I miss?"

Jareth turned and hoped back onto the roof and walked towards Moriarty. "'You're not going to do it.' So the killers can be called off, then. There is a recall code or a word or a number." He began to circle around James. "I don't have to die if I've got you."

Moriarty laughed in delight. "Oh! You think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?"

"Yes. So do you."

"Jareth, your big, bad brother-in-law and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to."

Jareth stopped and placed himself very close to Jim, their noses almost touching. "Yes, but I'm not my kinsman, remember? I am you – prepared to do anything; prepared to burn; prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you."

Jim shook his head slowly. "Nah. You talk big. Nah. You're ordinary… You're ordinary – you're on the side of the angels."

"Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them."

The enemies locked eyes with each other. Analyzing. Testing. Deducing.

"No, you're not," Jim said. He smiled. "I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me." James laughed. "You're me! Thank you!"

James offered his hand to his equal. "Jareth, the once and future Goblin King." Jareth took Jim's hand. "Thank you. Bless you."

Moriarty blinked a few times and lowered his gaze, but he did not let go of Jareth's hand. "As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends; you've got a way out."

Jareth relaxed very slightly.

Jim looked up and grinned. "Well, good luck with that."

Faster than Jareth could follow, Moriarty pulled a gun from his waistband and put it in his own mouth. Jareth pulled back and cried out in alarm. The shot went off and Jim fell instantly to the ground.

"Doyle! James!" Jareth said as he began to bend over to see if there was any hope of life. He jumped back when he saw blood, brains, and skull fragments trickling out of the back of Moriarty's head.

Jareth covered his mouth. "Oh God. James. I am so sorry. It's my fault. I'm sorry. It's my fault. I did this to you."

He began to look franticly around, trying to find a solution. Some angle he had not seen. The former Goblin King went through hundreds of different scenarios, even double checking the ones he already thought through earlier. Jareth paced by the ledge and then stopped.

There was no other way out.

His final problem.

His final solution.

His final bow.

Jareth stepped onto the ledge.

He dialed Sarah's phone.

&%&%&%

Jareth could see Sarah stepping out of the taxi and moving towards the hospital. He saw her answer her phone.

"Hello? Jareth? Did you get my message? Do you need me? Are you hurt?"

Just fear me…

"Sarah."

"Jareth, where are you?"

"Turn around and walk back the way you came now."

"No, I'm coming in. I need to be nearby in case you call for help. You are not facing this alone."

Love me…

"Just do as I say. Please."

"Where?" Sarah asked as she looked wildly around her as she went back the way she came.

"Stop there."

Sarah did. "Jareth?"

Do as I say…

"All right, look up. I'm on the rooftop."

She did.

"Oh God, Jareth."

And I will be your slave.

"I... I... I can't come down, so we will... we will just have to do it like this."

"What's going on?"

"An apology… It's true," Jareth said.

"What? That's impossible."

"I created Moriarty," Jareth said. He looked back at James' body for a moment. "I created the monster. I created this nightmare."

"Why are you saying this?"

"I'm the villain, Sarah. Not the hero," Jareth said.

"Jareth…"

"The newspapers were right all along. I created the monster. I want you to tell Lestrade; I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and Molly, and Sherlock... in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty… I created this morbid fairy tale."

"Okay, shut up, Jareth, shut up. I have been your confidant for a year and a half. Your family has known you for over three centuries. We all believe that you are good. You had a brush with villainy, yes, but you came back. You redeemed yourself."

"No one can be redeemed."

"Everyone can. You have to ask for forgiveness and you did. And then you spend the rest of your life showing the world how you changed your ways."

"People only truly forgive you once you're dead," Jareth said.

"No. All right, stop it now," Sarah said, "I'm coming up there even if I puke the whole time because of how stinking high up you are." She began to walk towards the entrance.

"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move."

Sarah moved back and held her free hand up towards Jareth.

"All right."

Jareth reached a hand towards Sarah. "Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do one thing for me?

"Do what?"

"I need you to say the Words."

Sarah covered her mouth.

"Sarah, say your right Words and mean it. It won't work unless you mean it."

"Damn. I can never remem… remember that line."

"Sarah, say it. Please. I ask for so little."

He could hear the soft sob over the phone that she tried to stop before she spoke clearly. "You have no power over me."

Jareth sighed in relief. She is safe. She will survive. She is still my heroine. "Farewell, Sarah Jane Williams, Champion of the Labyrinth."

"Which way? Up or down?"

Jareth tossed his phone to the side. Everything was in place. He just had to do one thing.

Sarah screamed his name.

"Well, since I'm pointed that way, I guess I'll go down."

Jareth understood now. He understood why she choose down. Up meant no direction and having no being. Up meant being just air. Down meant the solid ground. Down meant something permanent.

"Falling is just like flying, except there is a more permanent destination."

For the first time in thirteen years, Jareth tried to fly, though this time he knew he was only falling.

&%&%&%

Jareth fell, arms spread wide. Sarah did not see him land completely, but she saw just enough to know that he was not getting up. Never, not even in the Labyrinth, did Sarah run so fast… until she caught a glimpse of him. He was not moving. She saw blood.

A bicyclist knocked her off her feet and she slammed hard into the ground, causing her to hit her head against the pavement. Her ears were ringing. Sarah almost lost consciousness, but she knew she had to keep moving. She hissed in pain as she got up. There were several onlookers surrounding Jareth. Sarah staggered towards the crowd and pushed her way through.

"Jareth. Please. Jareth. Jareth! Please. Let me through. He's mine. Please. He's mine! Let me through!"

Sarah reached down for Jareth's wrist, searching for a pulse.

There was no sign of life.

Someone pulled Sarah's hand off Jareth's wrist and another person pulled Sarah away. Sarah tried to move forward but hospital personnel arrived with a wheeled stretcher. The medics rolled Jareth over. His face and blonde hair were stained with blood. His blue eyes were staring at Sarah but not seeing.

"No. God no. Please no. Please."

The medics wheeled the corpse away.

&%&%&%

A/N: *screams of anguish* I HATE YOU SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE! I HOPE YOU SPEND TIME REARRANGING THE CHILDREN'S PICTURE BOOKS IN A LARGE LIBRARY!

One more chapter for "Up or Down?".