The plane ride to Port Angeles was long. During the flight, Sarah couldn't help but run the gambit of emotions from despair to glee. It also gave her plenty of time to reflect on the last two years. A year ago she would have been all pride and spite when she thought about leaving Jareth, but now she knew there were small twinges of regret at the thought of him showing up in her room tomorrow only to find it empty. He might be a villain, but Sarah no longer thought of him as an enemy. If they weren't enemies, she had no idea what that made them anymore, but it was enough to feel sorry for him.
Her thoughts of Jareth quickly stopped as the plane set down and a new fear hit her: what if she couldn't find her Uncle Charlie? What if he didn't recognize her? They hadn't met since she was a kid and that had been when her mom was still alive. What if he was disappointed by the woman she'd grown up to be?
For all her worries, finding Charlie proved to be easy. He was older and greyer than she remembered, but it was clearly him. Even if she hadn't recognized him, the small smile he gave her when they made eye contact would have been enough. No one smiled when they saw her anymore. Sarah extended her hand out for him to shake. People always found her so inexplicably off-putting that Sarah tended to keep herself at arm's length. Charlie chuckled, taking the proffered hand. The handshake was followed by a quick and awkward hug. Sarah hugged him back. It felt warm.
Though it had been a long time since she'd been out to Washington, Sarah hadn't forgotten about the forests. Part of her expected them to be smaller than she remembered, but looking out the window in the dying afternoon light, the woods didn't disappoint. Forests always seemed so magical to Sarah. Lately she'd thought she'd outgrown her fits of childlike flights of fancy, but as the trees went whizzing by, Sarah felt them coming back in force. She wondered what kinds of magical creatures lived in those woods, just waiting to be discovered. There was no doubt in her mind that magic was real: she'd seen it. Anyone who'd been to the Labyrinth would have to believe in magic. The only thing that might set her apart was that she didn't fear it; she embraced it.
The radio played softly in the background, the only noise between them. Sarah liked Charlie's silence. It was peaceful, and peace was something of which Sarah had a short supply. It was certainly better than him asking any questions. Uprooting herself in her senior year and flying across the country to live with an uncle she hadn't seen in more than a decade… Sarah knew there were bound to be questions. Tonight, at least, she was glad he didn't ask them. When he did finally speak, it wasn't about her at all.
"Do you remember Isabella?" asked Charlie some ways into the trip. Jolted from her thoughts, Sarah turned from the window to look back at her uncle. She nodded.
"My cousin? Yeah." Her words came with a small note of hesitation, confused by the unexpected interruption to her fantasies.
"She was supposed to come up to stay with me." Sarah was suddenly awash with guilt.
"Oh, Charlie, I'm sorry! If you had told me…." He waved a hand to stop her apology.
"She didn't come." The flat and calm statement seemed more heartbreaking in the moment then any tears of anger. It felt like Charlie had expected this all along, but it broke him nonetheless.
"I'm so sorry," said Sarah gently. Charlie shook his head.
"I'm fine," he said in his usual gruff way. "I have you to keep me company." Sarah gave him a fond smile. Charlie was a very simple man, but simple might be exactly what she needed. "I only mentioned it because I got her enrolled in school here and it's a small town so people talk…."
"They're going to think I'm her." Sarah was quick to catch on. Charlie scratched his neck and gave a nod. He'd only glanced her way once or twice throughout the whole of the exchange, keeping his eyes on the road. It was his way, Sarah remembered. He'd always kept himself at a distance from the world. They had that in common now, Sarah supposed, even if her isolation had not been by choice. Even so—or perhaps because of his—Sarah felt her cousin's actions much more strongly. More than anything she wanted to offer Charlie what little consolation she could. "That's fine. I could be Isabella. If you don't mind, that is," Sarah added hastily. Charlie shrugged.
"I can change it," he offered, but Sarah shook her head. She could tell he wasn't fond of the effort involved in changing all the paperwork or the embarrassment of having to explain to the whole town that his daughter didn't want to come to live with him.
"Nah. Who knows, it could be fun. And I could use a fresh start." Sarah mumbled that last bit to herself. That was why she'd come here after all, wasn't it? An escape. "Besides, I can't think of anyone I'd rather have for a father," she said, not untruthfully. Her current mixed feelings about her own father were ones she didn't want to think about. Charlie blushed and mumbled something she couldn't quite make out. Sarah didn't ask, instead returning to gazing at the forest pass by around them with a smile.
The house was much as Sarah remembered it from years ago. It was simple and small, but served its purpose nicely. Her father had refused to let them stay and had opted to book them into a hotel. Her lips quirked up as she remembered herself as a child crying and whining about wanting to stay, to the endless annoyance of her father and amusement of her mother. It wasn't the house that had appealed to her but the way the forest seemed to be ever encroaching, like all you had to do was lean out a window and you could touch it. If anything had changed from then, it would be that the house looked a little more worn and the woods were a little closer. That and the red pickup sitting in the driveway next to Charlie's cruiser.
"Hey, Charlie," she said, trying to get his attention from where he was already starting to unload her bags, "is someone else here?"
"What?" asked Charlie. Sarah gestured to the truck. "Oh. I bought it cheap from Billy Black. Figured you'd need a car." Sarah assumed that the truck had been for Isabella as she could hardly imagine herself driving such a monstrosity. But there was a pleasant feeling welling in her chest anyway and she impulsively leaned in to give Charlie a kiss on the cheek.
"I love it," she assured him, noting the relief on his face. It wasn't strictly true, but as she walked over to examine the truck, Sarah realized it wasn't false either. This was the first time in a long time she felt she had someone looking out for her. She ran her fingers along the rust-red paint, a few flecks brushing off as she did. Only Jareth had given her thoughtful gifts like this. Sarah pulled her hand away sharply. She wouldn't—couldn't—think about Jareth. That was why she had left in the first place, to get away from him. It would entirely defeat her purpose if she began to—heaven forbid—miss him. Shaking her head, she followed Charlie into the house.
It was not a large house, but with just Charlie it seemed cavernous. Sarah paused to look down the hallway at the long rows of picture frames. They were all of Isabella, one for every year. Sarah sighed. As she turned she saw one more picture on the other side of the hall. Her own smiling face stared back at her. It was the picture she'd sent last year. Every new discovery left Sarah more certain she'd made the right decision. After all, in a town like Forks, what could possibly go wrong?
The next morning Sarah woke to an empty room. She was alone; it startled her. For someone who had lived these past few years as a lone wolf, it was strange just how hard it was for her to adjust to the idea that no one was there. The blankets tangled around her legs as she leapt out of bed, sending her sprawling on the floor. There were no chuckles, no smirks and no quippy remarks. She was an embarrassing heap on the floor and there was no one there to witness it. All the same, Sarah scanned the room as though searching for a hidden Jareth with nefarious intentions. It took her several minutes to remember where she was. Even longer to remember who.
"Isabella Swan," she said slowly, trying out the name. Sitting back on the bed, she repeated it using a variety of inflections and accents until she dissolved into a fit of giggles. The sound was foreign to her and she had to pause for a moment to remember that it was her making that noise. These feelings of freedom and happiness ought to have been commonplace, but now they felt like embracing old friends who had been forgotten for far too long.
"Bella Swan," Sarah said once she had finished giggling. "Beautiful Swan." That started her right back up again. As cheesy as some might find the name, Sarah loved it. It appealed to the part of her that loved to run to the park after school to recite lines to a grumpy old owl. Perhaps it was childish, perhaps it was naïve, but Sarah was starting a new life and she could be whomever or whatever she pleased. With her mind made up, Sarah continued to giggle as she dashed to the bathroom. Her reflection stared back, bright-eyed and grinning. How long had it been since she'd smiled like this? How long since she'd laughed herself silly? The answer was very simple: too long. The grin slipped away from her face the longer she looked, only now really considering everything she'd done in the past twenty-four hours. She'd taken Sarah Williams, with all her problems and concerns, and set her aside on a shelf to return to later when she knew how to deal with it all.
"You made the right choice, Bella Swan," she said. And, for the first time in a long time, she was certain that she had.
Charlie had suggested last night that she take a few days to settle in before starting school, but Sarah was bounding with enthusiasm. By the time she'd finished getting ready for the day, Sarah was skipping to the stairs. She had just begun her descent when her toe caught on the carpet, sending her off-balance and about to careen down the stairwell, arms windmilling in a desperate search for safety. For a moment, she was falling.
Instinctively she managed to grasp the handrail and jerk herself upright again. Sarah stood still as she tried to get her heart rate back to normal. She had never thought she was particularly clumsy and ever since the Labyrinth she had made a point to put more focus on physical activity. It was a point of pride for her that she was capable enough not to trip over her own feet. In the end Sarah blamed it entirely on her being lost in her own head and took it as a reminder to try and tone back her enthusiasm. Slowly—and with a good deal more caution—Sarah managed the rest of the journey downstairs without incident. Charlie was already seated at the table with a cup of coffee in front of him and the sports section of the newspaper in his hands.
"Morning Char—Dad." Sarah quickly corrected herself, cursing her own slip-up. Charlie looked up from his paper with a raised eyebrow. She knew what he was thinking before he said a thing.
"You really want to go through with it?" he asked her, a trifle skeptical. Sarah nodded and let out a cheerful "yep". She'd always been a little rash. Doing things in the heat of the moment had caused her nothing but trouble, and yet… here she was, unable to help herself. Charlie sighed and straightened out his paper. They ate in that same companionable silence Sarah appreciated so much until Charlie finally folded his newspaper and stood.
"Well then," he said in his naturally awkward way, "have a good day… Isabella." Sara waved cheerfully at him.
"You too." Charlie shrugged on his coat and made his way to the door. Maybe it wasn't much attention or affection, but after having gone so long without any, just one comment was enough to brighten her day. No matter how little Charlie said, it was enough that he cared.
"Oh, and Dad," Sarah called after him, "Call me Bella."