Sarah woke the next morning thinking that the night before had all been a strange, wild dream. That none of it had ever happened. But it did. Which had made it all the more weird, and wonderful.
After returning to her room, she stayed up late into the night, her mind reeling through thoughts and emotions at a mile a minute. The little sleep she did get was a dreamless one. She was grateful for that.
Looking out her window, she found the morning sun more golden than it should have been; the sky was a clearer blue, the sea was moving in a softer dance.
She frowned openly.
She needed to see something real today, something that was genuine and taken at face value. Last night, Bruce had shown her his dark side, but by revealing that he had also shown her his human side. And she had abandoned him in the time when he had shown his most vulnerable, weakest part of his self: his soul.
She still felt an immense amount of guilt that was weighing heavily on her. The feeling alone prompted her to get out of bed, shower and dress quickly, and make herself something to eat before she started her day.
A day that she was going to spend outside. She had decided on it the second she saw that bright sun shining through her clear, crystal window. Her life shouldn't have to be made up of candy castles and glamorous tricks all the time. Bruce had showed her the necessity of a valid and thick-skinned existence. One day among Gotham and its people should be enough for her.
Or would it? She had to question the possibility of running into Bruce. He would have surely doubled his efforts to find her now. And if he did find her, would she go back with him now, knowing who he was and what he did?
Yes, she would.
There was a part of Sarah that knew, really knew in her heart that they were well matched and if they worked to accept who they were, then it could work between them. That was why she also decided to tell him everything. He wouldn't believe it at first, and who would? But she was more than capable of proving it. She would, of course, have to prove it without getting Jareth involved. Of whom, she had not seen at all this morning, and that was a relief for her. It gave her time to think of what she would tell Bruce and how. Because she intended to tell him everything, from the Labyrinth to how she had disappeared last night.
It made more sense, in a real, sensible world to at least try and have a human existence with Bruce. Everything Jareth had done for her, she was eternally grateful for. But Jareth was still hiding; he hadn't dared stripped off his mask for her. Bruce had.
Sarah grabbed her jacket and headed for the secret door. She knew exactly where she wanted to go. She opened the door and stepped inside; and when she stepped out she was facing a wide, glass window. On the other side was a quiet, peaceful morning but made chaotic by the rush of auto traffic and pedestrians – mostly hipsters and artists who were carrying their coffee or tea. Inside, she immediately recognized the dark paneled wood and the dark red and black walls that The Mad Hatter Tea House was famous for.
"Sarah!"
She started and pressed herself against the tea house's bathroom door. Looking over, she found Connor and two of her cast mates, Jack and Christina, sharing a table. She froze for a minute. But they seemed genuinely surprised and happy to see her. They hadn't heard about the incident between her and Bianca last night, at least not yet.
She relaxed a bit and walked up to their table. "We didn't see you come in," Connor said, "want to join us?"
Sarah immediately pulled out a chair. "Sure, if it's okay."
Her friends had let Sarah in on their conservation right away, and Sarah was all too happy to be included. Yet, as soon as she had stepped out that secret door, she had this very strange feeling of foreboding, the way animals sense a storm coming. She could either lose her job very soon because of Bianca, Bruce might not believe a word she would tell him, or she and Jareth could be getting into a vicious fight over the limits of her freedom. But he hadn't tried to stop her yet. Regardless, she needed one good moment before this premonition came to pass.
"Yuri, she's here."
"Where?"
"Just outside Gotham Village."
A long pause on the other end of the line. "Take her."
He checked his wristwatch for the third time. It was 5:15. Bruce should have been back at Wayne Enterprises by now. He was confident Lucius Fox would take over for him; he always did whenever Bruce didn't show for a late meeting. His eyes darted along the long street, almost frightened to miss her. He checked his watch again. 5:17.
The street wasn't exactly swarming with people. This was a quieter part of Gotham Village, but it was also where most of Sarah's friends tended to socialize. When he wasn't prowling the theater in the daytime, he was scanning the streets nearby and around Krista's apartment. He had planned on finding her, and coaxing her back to his penthouse; he knew that throwing her over his shoulder wouldn't work anymore – it just caused more problems. He meant what he said, he wouldn't lock her up, but he still needed answers from her. Most especially as to how she disappeared from Krista's last night. There was absolutely no way she could have escaped and slipped under his radar - literally. He had checked every corner of that apartment, he had scanned the whole block with every piece of equipment he had; Sarah had simply disappeared into thin air. It infuriated him to no end.
He sat in his Lamborghini gazing at the street and ignored some curious stares. It was rare when a car like that was parked in a neighborhood like this.
5:20, 5:25, 5:30.
Bruce rested his head against the seat; watching and waiting.
Then he saw her walking down the street, her hair long and loose and swaying in the cold breeze. His heart sped as he reached down to ignite the engine, but then he stopped. He saw her smiling. She was clearly laughing at something, though he couldn't see what. She was like a child, excited and playful in the middle of a cold, dreary day. Bruce could see that she was thinking of everything and nothing at the same time.
"Little Lotte thought: Am I fonder of dolls, or of goblins, of shoes, or of riddles... like a butterfly she flew about in the gold of the sun, in her golden curls she the crown of spring carried, and her eyes was the suns, so bright blue and clear but above them all she loved a little bird…"
He had recited that poem once with her, when they first met, when she was still a glow of light in his otherwise dark world. Seeing her like this now - she was happy; and he wasn't sure if he wanted to drag her back into his life of shadows and secrets.
He looked away. He promised her he wouldn't pursue Superman any further, nor would he have locked her away in his penthouse tower. He kept his promises.
Maybe it was better this way, to leave things as they were. He could learn to let something go, for once. They both had secrets aplenty and maybe some were best left untouched. He would always watch her, but now he would have to teach himself to do it from afar, they would be worlds away. He needed to learn to focus on the Batman's drive, and less on Bruce's emotions.
He looked back and watched her walk away with a heavy heart until she turned the corner and disappeared down the other street…
The sound of her boots against the concrete sounded almost comforting to her ears. The numerous pubs she glanced into, the trains rushing above her head, the bite of the cool wind from the lake against her face, the smell of gasoline and the rush of traffic in the streets… it felt good to be back in Gotham City again, even if it was a dark, cloudy day. To be out of the isolation, to be among the nameless crowds again, even if they were strangers, was a thousand times better to Sarah than to spend another day alone.
She looked up at the old library that bordered the bohemian neighborhood of Gotham Village. Up high near the roof were giant stone owls with open wings, as if ready to take flight. They were placed within a niche of flowing, almost tentacle-like vines of stone and cold metal. They stared down at the people below them like prey, daring them to gaze longer at their frightening splendor. She didn't stop or even blink when one turned its head to her. She smiled. It narrowed its eyes in response, but Sarah could see it was more annoyed than angry at her.
"Where are you going?"
The wind tickled Sarah's ear in the form of Jareth's voice. She shivered and brought her shoulders up, but her smile still remained. "Nowhere…" she whispered.
"You should not be here."
She almost tripped over a crystal ball that rolled in front of her feet, but she skipped over it, and kicked it aside.
"Cheeky girl."
She felt a finger wrap itself around a lock of hair, then give a light tug. She clutched her head with one hand and looked back, but of course, no one was there. She grinned over her shoulder.
She ignored the peculiar stares of other passerby's on the street, they glanced at her and took her for an eccentric; but it didn't matter to her. She held secrets, desires, and even fears in her heart that no one else could have dreamed of having. One of these secrets she had to keep from Jareth now, which was no easy task.
So she kept walking, her head ducked down to keep from seeing Jareth's reflection in one of the windows; frowning deeply at her.
Sarah turned a corner and instantly caught a chill. She shivered and pulled her shoulders up. But then she stopped when she realized that this was no ordinary chill, someone else was watching her. No one was behind her and no one ahead, but she knew someone besides Jareth or even Bruce was close by.
She stood still and listened to the wind; a wind that was eerily silent and seemed to creep up from the ground itself. It grew stronger and stronger, turning into a low rumbling tremor. The air around her was almost electrifying – pulsing and swelling, pushing her fear to the greatest extent. The anticipation of something evil about to happen was overwhelming.
The wind picked up and blew pieces of stray paper and garbage past her. She turned her head away, her hair flying like a sail, and through her black tendrils she saw a man step around the corner just in front of her and block her path.
She stood frozen, unable to move, her breathing was getting shallow… she felt tremendous pressure begin to bear down against her skull.
She turned back the way she came, but another man – bigger than the first – stood in her way. Her heart beat against her ribcage like a hammer, her head was swimming in fear. She looked ahead of her and found a street empty of pedestrians, but filled with parked cars. There was a chance more men would have been hiding, but it was a chance she was willing to take.
Sarah glanced at the man standing a half block away and suddenly jumped into the street.
The two men rushed after her. She kept her chest and head up as she ran across the street and circled around cars, back toward the busy street from where she came.
Bruce still hadn't moved from his spot. He stared at the corner where Sarah had turned just a few minutes ago. He should have left but something made him stay. He kept his eyes fixed on the corner until he saw what he never wanted to see happen. Sarah was racing down the street, clearly terrified. Two thuggish-looking men were chasing her, and getting closer…
Bruce's Lamborghini suddenly tore across the street after her. He had to turn the wheel abruptly at the large center divider in the road and follow Sarah down the street, desperately hoping she would be able to see him.
Sarah ran off between two buildings. Sprinting headlong down the narrow corridor, skidded around a corner and nearly crashed into a five foot wall. She scrambled over it and landed in a crouch, looking ahead of her before racing forward. She kept running, but the further she ran, the warmer her chest became. It grew warmer and warmer until her chest was burning almost painfully. But she didn't stop running.
Bruce roared past a line of traffic. He floored it, yanked the wheel to pull up onto the sidewalk, and sped through parked and waiting cars. The few people on the sidewalks just barely moved out of his way in time. He scanned the thin sea of people, frantically.
Terrified beyond reason, Sarah raced down a stairway, one figure against two huge men. She made it to the bottom of the steps, making progress along the abandoned sidewalk next to the river. But so were the thugs. She raced down a street, and then another and another, looking up briefly at the overhead pass through her mess of black hair.
Bruce's Lamborghini was just above her, racing against the traffic. She recognized his sports car within a second, and she pushed herself forward. She didn't dare stop for a breath now, she ran up a long, winding cement staircase; almost at street level now, Bruce would be waiting for her…
Her lungs were on fire, her legs burned; her skin became damp with exhaustion. Her breath came in ragged gasps until there was hardly anything left within her. But it didn't matter, she must keep running.
Her whole body was numb from pain and exhaustion, but her mind was alert when she finally took that last step.
But her body had slammed into a large, unmoving chest, hands grabbed at her, and she tried to scream but her mouth was instantly covered. Panic instantly took over. She couldn't see straight, couldn't even think straight. Her feet nearly left the ground when she was dragged across the empty sidewalk to a waiting van.
The man who had been waiting for her started to bundle her into the van, and the two men who were chasing her, jumped in before her, yelling at the driver to move.
Sarah had her arms pinned to her, her body tightly pressed against the large man that had her trapped in his grip. She twisted her head just in time to see Bruce as the van began to skid off.
And then nothing. Everything went black.
Bruce brought the Lamborghini to a halt when a large delivery truck ambled in his way, followed by a heavier stream of traffic and pedestrians. Bruce pounded the steering wheel with his fist and howled with hopeless fury...
Sarah's world was dark and the only sound that barely broke through was deeply muffled. Slowly, consciousness started to seep through her mind again; though it was fuzzy and sent her vision in a dizzying whirl. She was moving. Or rather, moving in a vehicle, and she wasn't alone.
Her eyes cracked open warily. She moaned lightly as she felt a sharp pain on her temple. She was still numb from the neck down, but she made every effort to move her hands beneath her. But to no avail. Her hands had been bound and she only succeeded in lifting her head just slightly.
A quick movement of a silhouette at the corner of her eye followed by the heavy stench of sweat caused Sarah to flinch back. Her head slowly turned in apprehension to the source of it. Then the sight of turquoise eyes – she had seen them before. Her blood ran cold when she realized who it was leaning down to hiss in her ear.
"You know," Yuri whispered with malice, "I've seen girls much prettier than you. I've been with much more girls prettier than you. I don't understand it."
She didn't respond. She was too frightened to speak or even breathe. She remained perfectly still. Even as her whole body became tight with tension, her throat threatened to swell with fear, the chills running over her neck and arms until a hand covered her mouth again, gagging her with the overpowering scent of chlorofoam. She struggled under the hand and under the stench until she went still and was swept again into nothingness...
Shards of broken glass littered the floor of Sarah's hidden suite, her furniture had been capsized; it had looked like a mob had stormed in and smashed and destroyed every corner of the place. But Jareth acted alone, his eyes raging in bloodcurdling fury. When he had nothing else to destroy, he had white bolts of energy fire from his hands, it smoldered the walls in black blisters. Bolts of white lightning suddenly charged at a massive level as rage twisted his face into a fierce roar. He stepped back and turned his bolt-shooting hands upward, the white lightning arching backward and around him, raining off of his head and flowing down over his black cape.
His deafening wail saturated the air; the walls exploded all around him as the lightning burst out and spread over his body. Shards of glass from the window flew inwards; shattering to the floor as white hot bolts cracked and flared.
All around him, the scene spun out of control, torrents of stone falling, white fire in the ceiling above as his scream echoed throughout, vibrating through the air. A high-pitched whine buzzed in the taut air, as a score of spirits were consumed by his power.
The white lightning spun upward into a black void, arching as it disappeared. Finally, when it was completely sucked through, the void exploded, creating a rush of air throughout the room. Jareth's cape that was whipped by the wind and he staggered forward, weak from the strain and the overuse of his powers. He dropped his hands by his sides, his whole body was singeing, his breath deep and rasped, there was nothing left of the storm but the dust that settled.
His energy was spent but he was still seething with fury. His voice matched the roar of Hell's most feared. "WHERE IS SHE?"
"An oubliette waitsss for her…" his dark mass of goblins answered him.
"She is not in my kingdom!" He paced furiously, seeming ten feet taller with his fierce stance. "You kept me from her!" he accused, "I didn't even see them coming!"
"Our dear King," their voices were of the most sickeningly sweet tones, "where do you think ssshe wasss going? Certainly not to take a chance walk…"
His black suit still crackled, bits of ash tumbled from his shoulders and torso. "I didn't know where she was going, she told me nothing!"
"Ssshe wasss going to sssee him…"
Jareth stopped. A dead silence hung in the now ruined suite of Sarah's dreams.
"Him…" he repeated slowly, quietly.
He knew who 'him' was.
His black ensemble was slowly melting itself into another shape, as if it were tired of its ridiculous molting. It was brandishing itself into a monstrous suit of armor. As it did, Jareth seethed with an inner fury and jealousy that he had only known once before. It burned in his chest and spread throughout his body like a blistering chill. And for every chill, a sharp, silver scallop grew over him.
He had provided her with everything she could possibly desire and had seen to her every comfort. He was even determined to make that ungrateful girl his queen and what had she done? Sneaked behind his back and ran to another man! A man as dark as him! Throwing her into an 'oubliette' was no more than she deserved. Maybe it would humble her, make her see that he was entitled to the respect she refused to give him. Yes, an oubliette would do her good.
"She will see," the thought burned in his mind, she will see…"
"By the gods," he rasped in his throat, "she will see!"
Before he left, Jareth went into Sarah's bedroom and tore her canopied bed to shreds.
A white van waited solitary on the top floor of an empty parking structure. Night had enshrouded the city, and in this part of The Narrows, no one but the thugs waiting inside would have dared come here. Two black SUV's pulled onto the top floor next to them. A large man emerged from one with Yuri. A bodyguard stood nearby and pointed up at the sky. Yuri peered up at the bat signal and shrugged. They had more men and more guns this time around. He moved to the second SUV, reached in and dragged out a panic-stricken, wild-eyed Sarah by her hair. He dragged her toward the battered white van. The van's rear doors opened and two armed thugs emerged, carrying barrels while a third hovered in the dark interior.
Still bound at the wrists, Sarah struggled to remain on her feet while her knees felt like liquid weighing her down. She saw the group of men emerging from the van part around a figure coming through. She openly gasped at the sight of a Scarecrow wearing a mask seemingly created from a poorly-stitched burlap sack with a hangman's noose dangling around the neck.
"You Russians finally caught her," the voice under the mask spoke, "and I came prepared as promised."
Sarah stared and trembled in terror, her heart pounding and her skin crawling.
"Batches of only the finest narcotics I can offer," the Scarecrow gestured to his van.
"Except your experiments," Yuri nodded his head toward Sarah.
Sarah's knees buckled, and she shivered under the weight of her fear.
The Scarecrow saw her and his voice turned cold, calculating. "You…" he said, "you have caused me more trouble than I could have imagined." He moved toward her with slender grace, a silent phantom relishing the coming prey. Sarah pressed herself back into the shoulders of Yuri's men. They pushed her back without mercy.
Sarah winced and turned her head away. He had come too close for her to bear. "You're all mine now," he whispered.
She felt a cold bile rise up to her throat, and it stayed there.
The Scarecrow turned his head past hers and inclined it with overzealous air. "Thank you, Yuri. Please, let's do business again soon." He turned away and made a gesture in the air. Guns still in their hands, the Scarecrow's men came up fast to Sarah, grabbed her, and dragged her to their van.
Sarah was too petrified to struggle, and the bile that rose in her throat refused to go back down. But she had learned that putting up a fight wouldn't get her far and it would only make things worse. She needed to remain in one piece and alert. She kept her eyes on the bat signal as they carried her away, because when the time came, she needed everything that was in her to keep up with the Batman when he came for her.
AN: Many thanks to all reviews and many more thanks to cassie =)
Shalom y Amor
