Here y'all go, chapter 12. n.n If you don't get the title, then tough
cookies. *iggles* Arrrgh... u.u FFN wouldn't let me log on earlier, so
I'm kinda mad at it right now. -.o Anyway... anyone who didn't see a lot
of this coming needs to pick up on foreshadowing better. n.- j/k, love
ya, mwah! *blows a kiss* Anyway, special thanks to Corrie, as always, and
everyone else who reads and reviews, love you all! 3 3
Disc: Oh, please... just read the ones in the previous chapters, for crying out loud. n.n()
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sarah was quiet on the way home from the hospital. She sat in the back seat with her hands resting on her lap and watched listlessly as the street lamps moved past. For a while, the only sounds inside the vehicle were of Toby stirring in his car seat before settling back down to be lulled to sleep by the ride again.
"Sarah," Karen broke the silence. "I want you to get rid of that owl."
Sarah didn't look away from the window and gave no sign that she'd even heard her stepmother.
"Sarah," Karen repeated impatiently.
"Leave me alone." Sarah murmured.
"Sarah, you can't keep it. What if it attacks you again? Or one of us, or Toby? It's a dangerous animal, not a pet!" Karen turned to face her stepdaughter, lips pressed into an thin, angry line. "This family is more important than some bird you rescued on a whim!"
Sarah pulled her eyes away from the window and looked at her stepmother with dull, tired eyes. "I don't want to talk about this right now," she stated in an empty voice. "Just leave me alone."
She turned away and resumed watching the passing scenery. Karen opened her mouth to press the issue further, but her husband's hand on her arm stopped her. Robert shook his head, his eyes never leaving the road, and Karen fell silent. It wasn't often that her husband put his foot down, but when he did, he refused to be talked out of it. No one spoke for the rest of the ride home.
Jareth stirred from a half-dreaming state at the sound of the car pulling into the driveway. He sat up quickly, bumping his head on the underside of the box spring in the process, but he barely noticed. The few hours he'd spent waiting had been torture, and not just because of the long separation from where his powers were. He was numb with worry over Sarah. His mind had relentlessly wandered over all the possibilities, dwelling on the worst- case scenarios, and he was both anxious to dismiss them and terrified to learn that the situation may be just as bad as he was letting himself believe. He waited impatiently for Sarah to come in and confirm or deny his worst fears.
She never came.
He listened as her parents settled the babe down and retired for the evening, and still she had not arrived. He watched her bedroom door for the girl to make her appearance, his fears growing with each passing minute. Where was she? He had thought that he'd heard her downstairs when they'd first returned, but he may have been mistaken.
After a half hour had passed and there was still no sign of her, Jareth decided to investigate. Sarah had left her door open a few inches when she'd left earlier, and he hopped out from under the bed and pulled it open with his beak so that he could squeeze through. The door swung inwards on it's well-oiled hinges, casting a beam of light across the darkened hallway. Jareth hoped no one woke up as he walked through the doorway and peered about. Spotting the staircase, he made his way towards it. It seemed to be a lot farther away than it was, and his wings were aching badly, but he had to know where Sarah was. Everything depended on it.
He was pondering the best way to descend the staircase when he caught the sounds of movement in the master bedroom. Deciding that he would not be able to get to the lower level fast enough to avoid being seen, Jareth backtracked and ducked through the nearest open door.
A moment later, the girl's stepmother emerged into the hallway. "Sarah?" she called softly. Jareth heard her close the girl's bedroom door and head towards the washroom where he was hiding. He slid behind the big plastic wastebasket in the corner, hoping the woman was only planning on using the facilities and not looking for him.
Karen flipped on the light and fished around in the medicine cabinet. The first bottle of headache pills she found had only one capsule left, and she grabbed a fresh bottle with a scowl and tore the seal off. Downing two pills with a glass of water, she turned to throw the empty bottle and crumpled plastic in the garbage. Her eyes fell on the owl behind it and she let out a startled yelp.
"Ooooh, you little rat!" she cried. "Robert, help!" She threw the empty aspirin bottle at Jareth, then grabbed the wastebasket and slammed it down on top of him, garbage and all. Jareth let out an angry shriek as his left wing was bashed painfully, while used Q-tips and a band aid wrapper rained down on him. He shook a crumpled tissue off of his back and hissed, prodding at his dark prison. The woman was still calling for her husband, and a moment later he answered, joining his wife in the washroom.
"It was just waiting in here, Robert," the woman was explaining to her sleepy husband with a note of hysteria in her voice. "I was afraid it was going to attack me or something..." She paused for a moment to calm down. "It can't just wander around the house!"
"Yeah," Robert agreed around a yawn.
"What are we going to do about it, Robert? I really don't like having it in the house at all," she lamented.
"We have that carry case from when Merlin was a pup, it's in the garage."
"Alright, we'll put it in that," Karen agreed reluctantly. "I'd still prefer it if Sarah would just agree to let us get rid of it. That girl lives too much in fairy tales to have any sense at all!"
He really didn't like Sarah's stepmother, Jareth decided. The woman's imagination was dead. It was a wonder that Sarah could tolerate her at all. The girl's father wasn't much better, either, with his passive approach to raising his daughter, constantly letting his wife make all the decisions. Jareth was surprised that Sarah hadn't wished herself away in lieu of the child.
Well, in a way, she had asked, but she hadn't really -wished- herself away, so by Underground law, it didn't count.
The wastebasket was lifted just enough to allow a sheet of stiff cardboard to be shoved underneath, which Jareth had to step onto quickly to avoid barking his toes. He was lifted and carried downstairs, hissing and complaining the entire way, until he was dumped unceremoniously into a tall plastic box with little round holes in it to let in the air. A metal cage door slammed into place above him, and he barely had time to get his bearings before the box was flipped over to rest sideways on the floor. Two sets of legs shuffled out of the room, leaving him alone in what he presumed to be the kitchen, judging by what he could see through the bars. The girl's dog was lying on a blanket on the other end of the room, peering at him curiously. Jareth hissed and turned to face the other way. It looked like he'd get no answers tonight.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning dawned bright and clear, shining in through the window to highlight the sleeping girl on the living room couch. Sarah stirred and squeezed her eyes shut, rolling over to face the back of the gaudy flower print sofa. This pinned her injured arm underneath her, rudely snatching away the last vestiges of sleep. Sarah sat up with a wince, now fully awake. Cradling her sore arm, she slowly got up and made her way towards the kitchen for a drink.
Jareth had only just dozed off, but he started awake at the sound of approaching footsteps. There were subtle differences between the amount of noise each person made when they walked, which Jareth's keen owl hearing picked up on easily. The man's footsteps were heavier, and the floorboards creaked more where he walked. The woman carried herself with a sort of no- nonsense briskness that shone through even when she was tired. The babe could barely walk, and anyway, Jareth could hear him and his mother upstairs. That left only one other likelihood.
Jareth had been pointedly ignoring anyone who came into the kitchen thus far, but now he turned his head to look out through the bars. Sure enough, there was his Sarah, wandering in through the entranceway and heading over to the refrigerator.
'Sarah!' Jareth jumped to his feet and moved to the door of his prison to peer at the girl's bandaged arm intently. From the way she was gingerly supporting it with her other hand, it was causing her quite a bit of pain. She released it to yank the refrigerator door open and pull out a pitcher of what appeared to be orange juice. She retrieved a glass from a nearby cabinet and poured herself some of the beverage before replacing the pitcher in the fridge and pushing the door closed with her hip. She had used both hands, Jareth noted with some relief, so at least her injured arm was still functional. Although it was uncomfortable, if the grimace on her face was any indication.
"Hey, Merlin," she greeted softly. Merlin lifted his head and wagged his scraggly tail happily, licking her outstretched hand. Sarah squatted down to scratch behind her dog's ears with her good hand, sipping her drink with the other.
Jareth nudged the bars with his forehead and keened softly. Sarah started with a sharp gasp, the drink falling from her hand to spill out across the kitchen floor. She was crouched low enough so that the glass rolled harmlessly instead of shattering, but Sarah wasn't paying enough attention to feel relieved. Her focus was entirely on the caged predator across the kitchen, staring out at her with wide, unblinking eyes. Her injured arm flew to her chest and she clutched at it protectively. He did -not- look happy to be there. She realized she was shaking and made a conscious effort to stop. God...
Jareth was stunned. His Sarah, afraid of him? Of all the hypothetical situations he'd thought of, this particular one had somehow failed to occur to him. It was true that he'd wanted her to fear him, but not like this. Had he really even wanted it at all? He felt a stab of regret as she found her mobility and fled the kitchen. This sort of damage would be difficult to repair, indeed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Karen had not been happy about the mess all over her clean tile floor. Sarah had to mop it up, a task she carried out with downcast eyes and the greatest of reluctance. Afterwards, Karen pulled her aside.
"Sarah, why don't you just get rid of it?" She asked her stepdaughter. Sarah shrugged and shook her head. "You need to decide soon," Karen continued. "I don't like having that thing in my kitchen. It's unnerving."
Sarah could understand that. After last night, she felt more than a little uneasy around the owl. In fact, she felt afraid. He had seemed so... scared and helpless before. Well, scared he still was, helpless he was not. He had no way of taking care of himself, but that didn't make him any less dangerous. She had been stupid to think otherwise. He was not the cute, cuddly creature she had deluded herself into thinking he was. She knew better now.
But if she turned him over to Dr. Trapp, he'd be destroyed. And she couldn't just let him go in his condition. He had no way of surviving on his own; he'd die for sure.
Sarah sighed. She didn't want to take care of him anymore. He was too wild, too dangerous. He didn't understand that she was only trying to help him. He would probably attack her again, especially now that he'd been caged. He would be more irritable as a result of his confinement, and more inclined to lash out. But what choice did she really have? If she didn't help him, he would die.
"I know it's unnerving..." Sarah sighed. "I... I need to think about it, Karen." She turned away and slowly headed upstairs for a shower.
"Don't think about it for too long, or we may have to decide for you," Karen called after her. Sarah ignored her and retreated into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
She mulled over it as she stood in the shower, absently lathering shampoo into her hair. Was Karen right when she said that Sarah was too lost in fantasies and storybooks to know how to deal with real life? She had certainly managed to handle this whole owl thing badly, all because she had been so wrapped up in the idea that it was a fairytale figure to exercise the proper caution. A character from a book! It was so stupid... she felt tears forming in her eyes and wiped them away with the heel of her palm. It was all real, though, wasn't it? She wasn't quite sure anymore.
She finished her shower and headed back to her room to get dressed. Her eyes fell on the Goblin King figure on her desk as she sat brushing her hair out. Setting her brush down, she picked up the tiny replica and studied it. It has always held so much magic for her before. Now, as she looked at it, it was just cloth and plastic.
Sarah bit her lip and lowered the statuette into her lap, looking into the mirror. She needed comfirmation. It had to be real. It -was- real. She could prove it to herself with three simple words. She took a deep breath.
"I need you, Hoggle," she said shakily, calling on the dwarf.
Nothing. Nothing but her own teary-eyed reflection staring back at her. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and tried again. Nothing still.
"Sarah?" Robert poked his head in to check on his daughter. "Who are you talking to?"
"No one.." Sarah whispered shakily, letting the tears fall freely. She turned away from her father, away from the mirror and covered her eyes with one hand. She wasn't talking to anyone at all.
Disc: Oh, please... just read the ones in the previous chapters, for crying out loud. n.n()
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sarah was quiet on the way home from the hospital. She sat in the back seat with her hands resting on her lap and watched listlessly as the street lamps moved past. For a while, the only sounds inside the vehicle were of Toby stirring in his car seat before settling back down to be lulled to sleep by the ride again.
"Sarah," Karen broke the silence. "I want you to get rid of that owl."
Sarah didn't look away from the window and gave no sign that she'd even heard her stepmother.
"Sarah," Karen repeated impatiently.
"Leave me alone." Sarah murmured.
"Sarah, you can't keep it. What if it attacks you again? Or one of us, or Toby? It's a dangerous animal, not a pet!" Karen turned to face her stepdaughter, lips pressed into an thin, angry line. "This family is more important than some bird you rescued on a whim!"
Sarah pulled her eyes away from the window and looked at her stepmother with dull, tired eyes. "I don't want to talk about this right now," she stated in an empty voice. "Just leave me alone."
She turned away and resumed watching the passing scenery. Karen opened her mouth to press the issue further, but her husband's hand on her arm stopped her. Robert shook his head, his eyes never leaving the road, and Karen fell silent. It wasn't often that her husband put his foot down, but when he did, he refused to be talked out of it. No one spoke for the rest of the ride home.
Jareth stirred from a half-dreaming state at the sound of the car pulling into the driveway. He sat up quickly, bumping his head on the underside of the box spring in the process, but he barely noticed. The few hours he'd spent waiting had been torture, and not just because of the long separation from where his powers were. He was numb with worry over Sarah. His mind had relentlessly wandered over all the possibilities, dwelling on the worst- case scenarios, and he was both anxious to dismiss them and terrified to learn that the situation may be just as bad as he was letting himself believe. He waited impatiently for Sarah to come in and confirm or deny his worst fears.
She never came.
He listened as her parents settled the babe down and retired for the evening, and still she had not arrived. He watched her bedroom door for the girl to make her appearance, his fears growing with each passing minute. Where was she? He had thought that he'd heard her downstairs when they'd first returned, but he may have been mistaken.
After a half hour had passed and there was still no sign of her, Jareth decided to investigate. Sarah had left her door open a few inches when she'd left earlier, and he hopped out from under the bed and pulled it open with his beak so that he could squeeze through. The door swung inwards on it's well-oiled hinges, casting a beam of light across the darkened hallway. Jareth hoped no one woke up as he walked through the doorway and peered about. Spotting the staircase, he made his way towards it. It seemed to be a lot farther away than it was, and his wings were aching badly, but he had to know where Sarah was. Everything depended on it.
He was pondering the best way to descend the staircase when he caught the sounds of movement in the master bedroom. Deciding that he would not be able to get to the lower level fast enough to avoid being seen, Jareth backtracked and ducked through the nearest open door.
A moment later, the girl's stepmother emerged into the hallway. "Sarah?" she called softly. Jareth heard her close the girl's bedroom door and head towards the washroom where he was hiding. He slid behind the big plastic wastebasket in the corner, hoping the woman was only planning on using the facilities and not looking for him.
Karen flipped on the light and fished around in the medicine cabinet. The first bottle of headache pills she found had only one capsule left, and she grabbed a fresh bottle with a scowl and tore the seal off. Downing two pills with a glass of water, she turned to throw the empty bottle and crumpled plastic in the garbage. Her eyes fell on the owl behind it and she let out a startled yelp.
"Ooooh, you little rat!" she cried. "Robert, help!" She threw the empty aspirin bottle at Jareth, then grabbed the wastebasket and slammed it down on top of him, garbage and all. Jareth let out an angry shriek as his left wing was bashed painfully, while used Q-tips and a band aid wrapper rained down on him. He shook a crumpled tissue off of his back and hissed, prodding at his dark prison. The woman was still calling for her husband, and a moment later he answered, joining his wife in the washroom.
"It was just waiting in here, Robert," the woman was explaining to her sleepy husband with a note of hysteria in her voice. "I was afraid it was going to attack me or something..." She paused for a moment to calm down. "It can't just wander around the house!"
"Yeah," Robert agreed around a yawn.
"What are we going to do about it, Robert? I really don't like having it in the house at all," she lamented.
"We have that carry case from when Merlin was a pup, it's in the garage."
"Alright, we'll put it in that," Karen agreed reluctantly. "I'd still prefer it if Sarah would just agree to let us get rid of it. That girl lives too much in fairy tales to have any sense at all!"
He really didn't like Sarah's stepmother, Jareth decided. The woman's imagination was dead. It was a wonder that Sarah could tolerate her at all. The girl's father wasn't much better, either, with his passive approach to raising his daughter, constantly letting his wife make all the decisions. Jareth was surprised that Sarah hadn't wished herself away in lieu of the child.
Well, in a way, she had asked, but she hadn't really -wished- herself away, so by Underground law, it didn't count.
The wastebasket was lifted just enough to allow a sheet of stiff cardboard to be shoved underneath, which Jareth had to step onto quickly to avoid barking his toes. He was lifted and carried downstairs, hissing and complaining the entire way, until he was dumped unceremoniously into a tall plastic box with little round holes in it to let in the air. A metal cage door slammed into place above him, and he barely had time to get his bearings before the box was flipped over to rest sideways on the floor. Two sets of legs shuffled out of the room, leaving him alone in what he presumed to be the kitchen, judging by what he could see through the bars. The girl's dog was lying on a blanket on the other end of the room, peering at him curiously. Jareth hissed and turned to face the other way. It looked like he'd get no answers tonight.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning dawned bright and clear, shining in through the window to highlight the sleeping girl on the living room couch. Sarah stirred and squeezed her eyes shut, rolling over to face the back of the gaudy flower print sofa. This pinned her injured arm underneath her, rudely snatching away the last vestiges of sleep. Sarah sat up with a wince, now fully awake. Cradling her sore arm, she slowly got up and made her way towards the kitchen for a drink.
Jareth had only just dozed off, but he started awake at the sound of approaching footsteps. There were subtle differences between the amount of noise each person made when they walked, which Jareth's keen owl hearing picked up on easily. The man's footsteps were heavier, and the floorboards creaked more where he walked. The woman carried herself with a sort of no- nonsense briskness that shone through even when she was tired. The babe could barely walk, and anyway, Jareth could hear him and his mother upstairs. That left only one other likelihood.
Jareth had been pointedly ignoring anyone who came into the kitchen thus far, but now he turned his head to look out through the bars. Sure enough, there was his Sarah, wandering in through the entranceway and heading over to the refrigerator.
'Sarah!' Jareth jumped to his feet and moved to the door of his prison to peer at the girl's bandaged arm intently. From the way she was gingerly supporting it with her other hand, it was causing her quite a bit of pain. She released it to yank the refrigerator door open and pull out a pitcher of what appeared to be orange juice. She retrieved a glass from a nearby cabinet and poured herself some of the beverage before replacing the pitcher in the fridge and pushing the door closed with her hip. She had used both hands, Jareth noted with some relief, so at least her injured arm was still functional. Although it was uncomfortable, if the grimace on her face was any indication.
"Hey, Merlin," she greeted softly. Merlin lifted his head and wagged his scraggly tail happily, licking her outstretched hand. Sarah squatted down to scratch behind her dog's ears with her good hand, sipping her drink with the other.
Jareth nudged the bars with his forehead and keened softly. Sarah started with a sharp gasp, the drink falling from her hand to spill out across the kitchen floor. She was crouched low enough so that the glass rolled harmlessly instead of shattering, but Sarah wasn't paying enough attention to feel relieved. Her focus was entirely on the caged predator across the kitchen, staring out at her with wide, unblinking eyes. Her injured arm flew to her chest and she clutched at it protectively. He did -not- look happy to be there. She realized she was shaking and made a conscious effort to stop. God...
Jareth was stunned. His Sarah, afraid of him? Of all the hypothetical situations he'd thought of, this particular one had somehow failed to occur to him. It was true that he'd wanted her to fear him, but not like this. Had he really even wanted it at all? He felt a stab of regret as she found her mobility and fled the kitchen. This sort of damage would be difficult to repair, indeed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Karen had not been happy about the mess all over her clean tile floor. Sarah had to mop it up, a task she carried out with downcast eyes and the greatest of reluctance. Afterwards, Karen pulled her aside.
"Sarah, why don't you just get rid of it?" She asked her stepdaughter. Sarah shrugged and shook her head. "You need to decide soon," Karen continued. "I don't like having that thing in my kitchen. It's unnerving."
Sarah could understand that. After last night, she felt more than a little uneasy around the owl. In fact, she felt afraid. He had seemed so... scared and helpless before. Well, scared he still was, helpless he was not. He had no way of taking care of himself, but that didn't make him any less dangerous. She had been stupid to think otherwise. He was not the cute, cuddly creature she had deluded herself into thinking he was. She knew better now.
But if she turned him over to Dr. Trapp, he'd be destroyed. And she couldn't just let him go in his condition. He had no way of surviving on his own; he'd die for sure.
Sarah sighed. She didn't want to take care of him anymore. He was too wild, too dangerous. He didn't understand that she was only trying to help him. He would probably attack her again, especially now that he'd been caged. He would be more irritable as a result of his confinement, and more inclined to lash out. But what choice did she really have? If she didn't help him, he would die.
"I know it's unnerving..." Sarah sighed. "I... I need to think about it, Karen." She turned away and slowly headed upstairs for a shower.
"Don't think about it for too long, or we may have to decide for you," Karen called after her. Sarah ignored her and retreated into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
She mulled over it as she stood in the shower, absently lathering shampoo into her hair. Was Karen right when she said that Sarah was too lost in fantasies and storybooks to know how to deal with real life? She had certainly managed to handle this whole owl thing badly, all because she had been so wrapped up in the idea that it was a fairytale figure to exercise the proper caution. A character from a book! It was so stupid... she felt tears forming in her eyes and wiped them away with the heel of her palm. It was all real, though, wasn't it? She wasn't quite sure anymore.
She finished her shower and headed back to her room to get dressed. Her eyes fell on the Goblin King figure on her desk as she sat brushing her hair out. Setting her brush down, she picked up the tiny replica and studied it. It has always held so much magic for her before. Now, as she looked at it, it was just cloth and plastic.
Sarah bit her lip and lowered the statuette into her lap, looking into the mirror. She needed comfirmation. It had to be real. It -was- real. She could prove it to herself with three simple words. She took a deep breath.
"I need you, Hoggle," she said shakily, calling on the dwarf.
Nothing. Nothing but her own teary-eyed reflection staring back at her. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and tried again. Nothing still.
"Sarah?" Robert poked his head in to check on his daughter. "Who are you talking to?"
"No one.." Sarah whispered shakily, letting the tears fall freely. She turned away from her father, away from the mirror and covered her eyes with one hand. She wasn't talking to anyone at all.