Chapter Thirteen – Learning to Trust Again

"I'm not so sure."

"Sure of what?"

"That he is a mutant."

Sarah regretted the words the minute they slipped from her lips and her mind whirled for a way to cover up her mistake as she gave herself a mental chastising – she had vowed to keep her father in the dark for as long as possible where anything to do with the Labyrinth was concerned.

"What do you mean - he's not a mutant?" her father demanded gently, taken aback. "I don't – don't understand." He regarded her strangely. "How would you know? You haven't seen Toby in over three years."

Marie also watched her curiously but remained silent.

"I – I -" Sarah stuttered. She felt a wash of fear sweep through her, as the terrible six months in the Mental Institution flashed to the front of her mind. The people there - convinced she was crazy. Forcing her to endure treatment after treatment. Trying to label her as schizophrenic. In hindsight, she knew that they had only been doing their job - of course they weren't going to believe her stories of the Labyrinth. But it hadn't stopped every day being a nightmare.

"Sarah?" Robert prompted and she snapped her gaze onto him unable to hide the terror in her eyes. Karen may have manipulated him to a certain degree – the woman was an expert at twisting him around her little finger - but he had still been the one who had signed her over to that place. Committed his own daughter. She could forgive him for what he had did, she even understood in a way, but she couldn't trust him anymore. She just couldn't.

He made her flinch when he reached across to clasp her hand, and hurt filled his face at her reaction. But she couldn't help it. She was petrified of being returned to the Institution and even though she accepted that she was now an adult and her father no longer had any power over her, she couldn't help but feel vulnerable and wary in his presence. Like she was seventeen all over again.

She forced a very unconvincing smile. "What I meant to say was – are you positive that he is actually a mutant? Could you be mistaken?"

Robert frowned. "Sarah? What's going on? That's not what you said at all."

When he squeezed her hand tighter, obviously trying to reassure her, she felt the tears prick at her eyes. "I can't," she whispered shakily. "I just can't." She was sure that so much as mentioning the Labyrinth to him again would start the alarm bells going off in his head.

Robert ran his eyes over her face. "Can't what, Sarah? You're not making any sense." He reached across his hand to tenderly stroke the length of her long hair. "Why would you say that Toby is not a mutant?"

Sarah mirrored his exploration, taking in his gaunt features - his hollowed cheeks and dark rimmed eyes. He looked a shadow of the man she remembered and her heart ached for him. She had missed him so much. Loved him so much.

And then Jareth's face slipped into her mind - so handsome, so powerful.

She took a deep breath, knowing that she couldn't hide the truth any longer. That she shouldn't have to. The Goblin King was her husband. She was safe. Protected. The Labyrinth was her home. It was all real. It was her life now. She would never go back to that Institution. Never.

And watching her father, his face filled with concern and urgency, she didn't think he would even want to put her through all that pain again, even if he could.

She glanced across at her cousin, shocked to see that Marie had tears of her own welling up behind her eyes, no doubt a reaction to the father- daughter angst playing out before her. "This Professor?" Sarah asked her softly. "What's he like?"

Marie seemed surprised by the question but after a brief hesitation, smiled warmly, her eyes glistening. "A truly wonderful man. Caring. Accepting. Generous. All he wants is for mutants and humans to live together in peace." She seemed overcome with emotion as she added: "He's like a father to me. To all of us at the Institute."

Sarah was relieved by Marie's words, realising that she needed someone accepting right now. Someone hopefully open minded enough to hear her stories of the Labyrinth and, even if he didn't necessarily believe them, to accept them.

She also realised that she needed his advice, just as much as her father did now it appeared – such an ironic turn of events. Needed him to determine whether Toby was indeed a mutant, as her father had concluded, or if what she believed – that Toby's newfound powers were somehow connected to the Labyrinth and to Jareth - was actually closer to the truth.

"Do you think he'll see us at such short notice?" Sarah added, realising that she was suddenly as desperate as her father now. "In the middle of a holiday?"

Marie tried to look optimistic. "I'm sure he will," she insisted and as they exchanged a hopeful smile Sarah found herself wondering what Marie would make of the Labyrinth and Jareth. Years ago she had mentioned her adventures to her cousin and Marie had indulged her, not rolled her eyes as others had, but Sarah still felt she hadn't believed her. Under the circumstances, she could hardly blame her. The Labyrinth wasn't the first adventure she had shared with Marie, it was simply the first real one – that had really happened - and that was the problem. She had cried Wolf so many times that Marie would obviously take every story with a pinch of salt.

Heavy hearted, Sarah peered back at her father and placed her free hand on top of his, returning his squeeze. "Dad," she offered warmly, trying to keep that lingering note of fear from her voice. "I have a lot to tell you. Stuff you're going to find pretty hard to believe."

Panic flared into his eyes and he was about to speak when she silenced him, placing a finger gently to his lips. "But, if you don't mind, I'd rather do so in the Professor's presence." She didn't know why but she felt that this Professor of Marie's might just be the person to help her father understand the impossible. "Please."

As she removed her finger Robert merely nodded.

Alone in the jeep at last, Logan yanked a cigar from his jacket pocket, his desperation to stick it in his mouth and light up, not unlike a drug addict craving their next hit. Quickly lighting the end with a novelty lighter he had swiped from St John, he sank slowly back into the driver's seat, sucking on the cigar as if his life depended upon it.

Finally exhaling, he watched, with an emotion that bordered upon affection, as the grey smoke swirled and danced before him.

Ah! That felt so good.

As the sweet poison swept through his senses acting like an instant relaxant, he sighed his relief and closed his eyes, relishing the silence and the solitude, taking a brief moment for himself before calling Charles. He was also eager to rid his mouth of the taste of coffee. Foul fucking stuff, he decided with a grimace. He had only drunk it for Marie's benefit, who he knew would never have forgiven him if he asked for a beer.

The things he did for that woman, he thought, bemused. He had almost died for her twice and now she expected him to drink coffee. The fact that he would die for her again in a heartbeat, should the situation arise, was irrelevant. Having to endure another cup of coffee was a far worst prospect.

However, a few minutes later he realised that he could no longer delay the inevitable. Balancing his cigar on the dashboard he reached across to the glove compartment on the passenger's side, wrenched it open, and retrieved a small cell phone that lay hidden beneath a newspaper. Luckily it still had some charge left.

Bringing up the menu he selected the connection to Charles' own mobile, brought the phone to his ear, and waited.

[Hello, Logan]

[You always one step ahead, Chuck?]

[I'm a telepath. What do you expect?] The Professor returned dryly.

[Yeah, right.] Smart-ass, Logan thought.

[I heard that.]

[You were supposed to.]

[So, Logan. What can I do for you? Is everything all right between Marie and her cousin?]

[You're the telepath. You tell me.] Logan could visualise the Professor rolling his eyes and he smirked.

[Now who's being the smart-ass?]

[I'm shocked, Chuck. You just said ass.]

There was a soft chuckle. [Jean shares your shock, if the look on her face is anything to go by. Perhaps I have over indulged a bit on the sherry.]

Logan grinned wider. It was good to see the Proff relax a bit. He and Scott could be too serious for their own good at times. Matching pokers, no doubt.

[OK, Charles] It was Logan's turn to become serious. [This is how it is. Marie mentioned to her uncle how you managed to locate Sarah and now he's literally begging for you to do the same for him, to locate his wife and kid.]

[She did not actually mention Cerebro, did she?]

[Nah, Marie has more brain than that. She did refer to it as a machine though, which got her uncle all excited.]

[Well, it must be quite distressing for him having his wife walk out on him at Christmas.]

[Yeah.] Logan agreed, acknowledging that the man had looked pretty messed up. [So, what shall I tell him?]

There was a moment's hesitation and Logan used the opportunity to reach for his cigar again.

[I must admit that I am extremely interested in meeting with Marie's cousin, especially after what happened when I tried to locate her with Cerebro. There is something not quite right about her sudden appearance.]

[So?] Logan pressed.

[I cannot, of course, allow them down into the lower levels of the mansion but I can read Marie's uncle's mind for information and then use it in Cerebro, with perhaps Marie as an extra guide – since she will obviously know what her cousin's stepmother looks like.]

[So? The answer is yes?]

[Yes.] The Professor confirmed. [Invite them to the mansion.]

[Will do, Chuck.]

[Oh, and Logan?]

[Yeah?]

[Please refrain from smoking that thing in the jeep.]

Logan growled light-heartedly. [Christ, nothing gets passed you, does it?] He didn't give the Professor the opportunity to answer. [Yeah, right. I know. You're a telepath.]

[No.] The Professor returned and Logan could sense his grin. [Just a guess this time.]

Logan switched off the phone, threw it lightly onto the dashboard, and took one final drag of the cigar. Looking around for somewhere to stub it out he peered down at his hand, raising an eyebrow. This was becoming a bit of a perverse habit, he realised with a grimace as the cigar end hissed against his skin.