Disclaimer: These are always mandatory when dabbling in fan fiction. If there is anything at all that is reminiscent of the 1986 fantasy film Labyrinth, then it probably belongs to Jim Henson, et al., including (but not limited to) the characters of Sarah Williams & Jareth, the Goblin King. Any other characters are the property of this author and will be noted. Also, the title of the story, as well as the lyrics included, are from the Nightwish song, Sleepwalker.


Sleepwalker
A place between sleep and awake,
end of innocence, unending masquerade,
that's where I'll wait for you…

She had said that he had no power over her but it did not last.
Three years later, Sarah finds herself up against Jareth for the second time.
But this time the stakes are different: she's now running for her freedom.


Part Twenty Nine: A childhood, found


Her purpose wasn't forgotten entirely but there was no way that Sarah could hear the familiar tune and not search out the source. She didn't even stop to wonder if this was more magic; she had no doubts that it was her own stubbornness and curiosity that sent her in that direction.

Caution was thrown to the wind—rather, to the stuffy, humid air that swirled over and around the junkyard—as Sarah determinedly crossed the dump. Her steps were no longer careful and more than once she stepped into something slimy and slippery. Since she never fell, it was easy to disregard it. After all, feet could be washed, socks and shoes disinfected. Who knew how long the haunting, mocking tune would tinkle?

She huffed under her breath, well aware that this was close to the fastest pace she had gone since first entering the labyrinth. Her focus was just as strong but, for once, it wasn't on the castle just out of her line of vision. Greensleeves was growing ever fainter and, as she roughly wiped at her eyes with a filthy hand and pushed stray strands of hair out of her face, Sarah had the distinct impression that the rest of her journey hinged on her discovering the source of the music before it came to a close.

In the back of her mind, she could still hear the gentle murmurings of that elf she'd met in the Forbidden Forest. What if this, running off in search of an old memory, was the decision she was supposed to make?

It didn't matter, anyway. It was the decision she had made, after all. Besides, there was still plenty of time left. One quick glance out of the corner of her tired eyes told her that Jareth's castle was still just right there. A few minutes wouldn't make a difference in the grand scheme of things.

And, if she stumbled upon something that would have been better left to rot in the junk heaps? No worries. Sarah wouldn't remember any of it come morning. Jareth promised—as long as she won, that was.

She had no doubts that she would win. For Sarah, there was no other option.

The last note of the melody rang out loud and clear, contrary to the waning music she'd heard only seconds before. It struck her deep and, with that single note, she was able to pinpoint exactly where it came from.

Shielding her eyes with her right hand, searching intently solely because she knew her curiosity would never leave her alone if she didn't, Sarah was finally able to figure where the music was coming from. Though she couldn't believe it when she did, the tinkling tune of Greensleeves had been emitted from an exquisite trinket: a music box with a beautiful dancing doll positioned right on top. She remembered it immediately and only wished she didn't.

What the… is that really? It couldn't be… could it?

Slowly, she picked up the music doll box and, her eyes wide and staring, she looked closely at the object. It was almost an exact double of the box she kept in her room with one exception: her doll had both arms and was in a considerably better state than this one. Shaking her head in disbelief, Sarah hurriedly placed the box back down. She didn't like the way the little face on the dancer stared accusingly at her.

Her stomach tightened. The fact that this trinket was a double of the one her mother had given her when she was a child was not what had led her to recognize it; she recognized it because she had seen this particular box before in this particular place. And it seemed fitting that that would be where she found it again.

Unless she was wrong, and she highly doubted that, this was the doll that the old junk lady gave her the last time she was Underground.

She was still squatting down low to the ground, her hands hanging hesitantly over the music doll box. It was tilted to the side and, as Sarah squinted incredulously at the base of the box—taking great care to avoid the blank face of that familiar doll—she suddenly recognized the dirty brown lump it was sitting on.

"Lancelot!" she cried, her voice hoarse and strangled despite sounding slightly excited and a little hysterical. Carefully moving the doll over, Sarah reached for the old teddy bear with trembling hands. It had been bad enough that she found the old doll; finding Lancelot was just too much.

Again, she more than knew that the original was kept at home. After giving Lancelot to Toby—she tried not to remember when but failed; it was the first act of true kindness she'd shown towards her brother after returning Aboveground—the toy quickly become one of his favorites. Even now, Toby was rarely parted from the raggedy old bear.

However, that fact was momentarily lost on her. Confronted first with the music box, then with Lancelot, her eyes quickly rummaged through the heaps surrounding her. Not surprisingly, much of what she saw she knew.

There was a stack of clothing, old yet still sturdy, peeking out from under a particular pile of junk. And then, beside it, a bent crown. "My costumes," she said, one finger reaching out possessively to play at the frayed edging of a yellowed with age sleeve.

"And my books," she added, sounding extremely tired all of a sudden. Where the Wild Things Are was right on the top of another stack, half the cover missing, but Sarah didn't have it in her to dig any deeper. She didn't know what she would do if she happened to stumble upon a certain red-covered booklet.

She stopped looking then. Beginning to understand just what her findings seemed to mean, she didn't want to look for anything else.

This wasn't a place to store and keep the garbage of goblins. No, it was a much more sinister place, full of the broken dreams and fragments of lost childhoods. But, whether it belonged to the children who'd been wished away or those foolish enough to attempt to defeat the Goblin King, Sarah wasn't sure.

But, as she held the moldy, damp Lancelot snuggly to her chest, ignoring the dirty marks it left behind, she knew exactly what became of her past.

He took it from her.

And here it was, her childhood, scattered around her. Forgotten. Lost. Damaged.

She'd been a stupid girl who made a stupid wish and, though she took on the Goblin King and won, she'd been paying for her foolishness ever since. She'd discarded her own childhood, boxed it up and hidden it away. Her old books, her toys, the costumes she'd adored… all of it, locked out of sight because, one day, she'd decided it was time to grow up.

Maybe it had been her decision, maybe not, but Sarah just couldn't place the blame on herself. That fell on him, the Goblin King. He'd been the one to do this to her. With cruel tricks, a mocking smile and the promise of everything and nothing, he'd been the one to take a naïve child and thrust a burgeoning maturity on her.

It was easy to accuse him of enticing her to grow up. As an adult, Sarah didn't think she would ever have to face him again; like her toys and her dolls, she had tucked aside the truth of the Underground, the goblins and their king. She told him that he had no power over her… but it obviously wasn't enough.

She told him that he had no power over her and she was wrong.

And there she was, three years older but not any smarter. It had been quite simple to fool herself into think she'd grown wiser as she made her escape to womanhood, but not now, now that she was thrust back into a game of make believe that had become all too real. Again.

But was it real? It seemed real—but wasn't that part of the labyrinth's magic? It can all seem real but, in the labyrinth, nothing was what it seemed.

She knew that all too well.

To Sarah, it seemed like she was the heroine, and Jareth the villain. It seemed like she was almost there, that she was going to win. It seemed like that was what she wanted…

But was it? Was that what she wanted?

During her first run, all Sarah wanted to do was to save Toby. Everything she went through, everything she experienced, it was all worth it because, in the end, she got her brother back.

But what about this time?

This time, when all she would get out of this was the promise of a clean slate and no more fantasy. The memories would be gone, as would the Underground. She'd never even know this place—so charming yet so frightening—existed. Was that worth it?

A scornful smile tugged at her lips as she set the old, moldy teddy bear back atop the pile. Carefully, she maneuvered the stuffed toy so that it sat beside the still music doll box. It flopped over immediately, leaning against the box for support.

Sarah sighed then, exhaling deeply as she sagged, falling to her knees.

She just didn't know…

For one second there, she felt a kinship with this twin of her old toy. If it were possible, she would find someone strong and slump up against them. She was tired—she'd been tired for so long now—and she didn't even know how she was standing now. Her legs were week, her feet achy and her head was so heavy. Full of thoughts, concerns, emotions and memories… there was room for nothing else.

Using the back of her hand—since, after handling the old toys, it was the least dirty part—Sarah wiped her forehead. She longed to rub her eyes, she was that exhausted, but she didn't. She didn't have the strength for it.

Instead, she slowly got back on her feet, bending over slightly so that she could use her palms to wipe at the dirty stains on the knees of her blue jeans. Seeing as how her palms were already so dirty, they did nothing but to smear the wet marks but she barely noticed. At that moment, all Sarah knew she wanted was to be out of the junkyard for good.

It was just too creepy being surrounded by all those 'might have been's and 'if only's. If she never set foot in such a distressing place again, that would be too soon.

She wiped her hands against her jeans again before rubbing them together. Jutting her chin out in what she hoped was a determined manner, and only succeeding in looking as defeated as she suddenly felt, Sarah spied the looming castle in the distance and adjusted her position so that she was heading straight towards it. She'd taken up quite a bit of time, looking for the source of the music, but the castle was not as far off as it could have been. Thank goodness.

Until, of course, the loud, blaring chime of an unwanted reminder erupted over the junkyard. It was much noisier than it had been before and the shocking sound jolted her back into the present. Whether it was worth it or not, Sarah had a run to complete and only one more hour in which to do it.

Whether it was worth it or not, she'd wagered her freedom against her memories. Even if she wasn't sure that her memories were worth confronted her past again, there was no way she was giving up her freedom. Confused or not, Sarah was just as determined to win.

Her gait a combination of a skip and a run, she began to hurry through the junkyard. Her eyes locked on the structure in the distance, she didn't watch where she was going until—

"Hey, watch where you're going there!"

—she rammed right into someone who barely came up to her hip.

Neither fell though Sarah was pretty sure she would have a nasty bruise on her thigh tomorrow. A bit flustered and her manner entirely apologetic, she stopped running immediately and quickly glanced down at the… whatever she'd bumped into.

It was, at first glance, a pile of rags that were speaking to her. But, courtesy of past experience—all of which was, admittedly, hazy—she knew exactly what she would find beneath the rags. And, when the pile shifted and a gnarled, weathered goblin face appeared from within the fold, Sarah recognized the junk lady.

There was something different about this one. For some reason, Sarah thought the eyes looked odd and the mouth too happy to be the junk lady that she'd met during her last run. Either way, she had run straight into her because her attention had been elsewhere. At the very least, she owed her an apology.

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to sound as kind as possible. After all, it wasn't the junk woman's fault that she was so tired and in such a hurry.

"You should be, girlie. It's not right, running down old ladies like that, you know. You should watch where you're going."

"I—I know." It was harder than she thought to remain kind. There was just something about this woman that seemed to irk her. "My mistake."

This junk lady laughed then and any malice she held for Sarah's accident vanished. She didn't look as old or wrinkled when she laughed. Her voice, nowhere near as hoarse as the other junk lady, was lighter too. Musical, even. "Never you mind, dearie. Mistakes, everyone makes them. No, but what matters is that you had a reason to run. Did you?"

"Yes, actually, I do," Sarah answered, grateful for the question. It gave her the perfect opportunity to take her leave without appearing rude. "In fact, I was in a hurry so—"

"Ah, another of them young mortals trying to get the best of the King, I see."

Momentarily taken aback by the directness of the woman's statement, Sarah stumbled. She shook her head. "Um, yeah, I guess. Anyway, I'll—"

"I don't know why everyone tries. No one ever beats King Jareth. Not really," the junk lady said, sounding thoughtful as she stared down at the ground beneath her bare feet. "Sometimes they just think they do," she added before leaning forward and plunging her tiny fist straight down. When she brought it out again, there was a shiny, somewhat dented golden ring held tight between her fists. "Oh, lookie here. You can find some real nice goodies here."

Sarah, who had remained quiet while the goblin woman spoke, shook her head again. For a moment, she was tempted to tell her that she, Sarah Williams, had beaten the Goblin King and his great labyrinth the last time she faced it. However, before she had, the woman's comment of 'they just think they do' impressed upon her a sudden need for silence. That bothered her far more than she could rightly say.

Instead, she politely looked at the ring that junk lady held out. She attempted to bring an interested smile to her face, the result being a puzzled quirk of her lips. "That's… that's nice."

"You like it?"

Sarah nodded, not quite sure what to say. "It's pretty," she settled on finally. She felt guilty for lying but what could she do? She didn't feel comfortable telling this stranger that the idea of marveling over some other person's lost treasures made her sick to her stomach.

The junk lady's strange eyes brightened. "Do you want it, dearie? You can have it," she said, holding the ring out to Sarah.

"Oh, no," Sarah said hurriedly, waving her hands in front of her, "I couldn't. You found it."

"That's true, and you find some lovely treasures in the junkyard." In one swift motion, the junk lady brought her hand behind her, tucking the ring into one of her myriad of storage places within the depths of her rags. "You should stay, girlie, and look through the heaps with me."

Sarah was on the defensive straight away. While the suggestion seemed innocent enough and the junk lady had no idea that this was her second run, that didn't matter. All she heard was one of the junk lady's attempting to keep her in the junkyard; the scenario was far too familiar to Sarah and she blanched.

"No!" she said, much louder than she intend. Swallowing, feeling her cheeks heat up as her own voice echoed back at her, Sarah tried again. "I mean, no, thank you. I have… I have to go somewhere."

"Where?"

Where?

For just the tiniest of seconds, Sarah couldn't remember where she was going. But, before she'd started to panic, the sight of that ominous castle flashed before her eyes and she immediately calmed. She gestured behind her. "The castle."

"The castle?" The junk lady looked interested. "A pretty thing like you, going to see the king? Or … or are you looking for something else?"

I… I don't know…

Sarah's stomach was still in knots and this weird conversation with this strange creature was not helping her at all. Very aware that she was wasting what precious time remained—and ten hours had seemed so long in the beginning; with less than one remaining, she wished she had more—she started to take steps away from the junk lady.

"I'm—I'm sorry. About running you over, I mean, but I have to get going. It was nice meeting you," she lied, waving her hand hastily before turning around. She added a quick goodbye before running off; she never even gave the old goblin woman the chance to say another word.

But that was alright. She had nothing left to say.

The junk lady watched Sarah run from her, her strangely mismatched eyes never removing themselves from the girl's backside until she was out of sight. Only then did she blink.

When those eyes were opened again, Jareth had resumed his proper form. He patted his gloves back in place before running a delicate hand along the edge of his feathery hair. A smirk was at home on his face as he congratulated himself on his foresight.

It had been a very good idea to set up one further obstacle to waylay Sarah. As far as he could tell, this run had had the desired effect on Sarah's emotions; it had taken a great toll on her nerves, knocking down much of the barricade she had built up against him all those years ago. There was no denying the chink in her armor, nor the confusion written in her beautiful green eyes. And he was very nearly certain that his next trick would mark the turning point he so desired.

As soon as she saw it, he would have her. He just knew it.

Chuckling devilishly to himself, he let the magick return him to the throne room. He could not wait to watch her reaction to his next move.


Author's Note: Well, here's the next chapter. I had a bit of fun with it -- I've been waiting to get to this point in Sarah's journey for quite some time. I'm really excited I got to do that and, in addition to that, on today, too. Today is actually the two year anniversary of the first chapter of Sleepwalker being posted. I feel a tad guilty that it's taking this long to get this story done but, on the upside, it won't take another two years to finish it ;)