Jareth flitted into her bedroom. He was so discreet and cautious about doing it; Sarah never had to worry about alarming her parents so late at night.
"Oh, hey," she said, drowsily, "I just got into bed."
The dim lighting of the moon masked Jareth's face, but Sarah could tell he was frowning as he slightly gazed downwards. He was not pleased.
"What's wrong?" Sarah thrashed her quilt side, springing to her feet with worry.
"Your hands are burned." He stated darkly, more than throwing it out as a question. Sarah's was seriously bruised and blistered.
A nerve struck in Sarah's mind. She mentally kicked herself for not remembering to cover her injures. She hastily folded them behind her back, looking back up at him.
"Science class." she murmured softly. "A kid tripped over a backpack, then bumbed into my lab partner, and the acidic chemicals spilled everywhere...the floor...on me. I know it sounds lame and stupid, hardly a great war-wound honorably earned, but sadly it's true."
Jareth's critical glare was the last thing she needed to see before she went back to sleep. Still, he reached behind for her hands and enclosed them with his gloved ones, grumbling, "You truly exhaust me, you know that?"
Before Sarah could utter the smallest protest, the lingering pain in flesh diminished instantly. Surprised, she glanced down to see a glowing pale energy emerging from Jareth's hands, which channeled through her own.
He eventually let go. "Sleep now, Sarah-mine."
"I…I…never knew you had the power of healing," Sarah admitted, flexing her mended fingers.
By the window, Jareth chuckled deeply. "Yes, well, I never quite favored mercy. I scarcely practice those kinds of arts anymore. Though with your bold spirit and your defiant outbursts to prove your worth—I had a feeling I would be using them more often."
Sarah heard that as an insult wearing a compliment for a costume. "Is that your nice way of saying I attract trouble?"
"Absolutely."