Standard Disclaimer. I own nothing, someone else does.

Dr. Sarah Williams was a respected young ER doctor, loved by her young patients and admired by her co-workers. Rarely was there someone with such dedication and drive, yet Dr. Williams always had time to offer words of encouragement to a frightened child, or to praise someone else's work. Still, everyone said that she wasn't an easy person to get to know. There was something distant about her, something that kept people from getting too close to her. At thirty years old, she still looked eighteen, and sometimes her hazel eyes held such a dreamy, far-away look that the nurses joked that she was like a fairy princess, trapped in a spell. As for Sarah herself, she was contented with her work, and her social life, while not a whirlwind of activity, kept her from feeling too lonely. She kept an image of Toby forever in her mind, and each year on his birthday, she would think about him, wondering what he would look like now, imagining how his sparkling personality would have grown and matured, and what kind of hobbies and interests he might have had.

On the day that would have been his seventeenth birthday, Sarah was called to assist a boy who had been wounded in an apparent drive-by shooting. As Sarah called out instructions with practiced ease, she couldn't help compare the seventeen year old who lay bleeding in front of her with her own lost brother. "Hang in there, Lionel," she said to him as they rushed him into the OR. "You're going to make it. We're going to get you a second chance." Three hours later he was dead, too much damage had been done. Sarah slumped, dejected and exhausted into a chair in the lounge, unable to stop the tears of frustration and sorrow.

"Dr. Williams?" Dr. Samuel's voice broke into her thoughts, "Are you okay?"

She smiled wearily at the older man as he sat beside her. "I can't believe I lost him."

"You did everything you could, Sarah. Please believe that."

Sarah sighed, "I know, it's just…today would have been Toby's seventeenth birthday, I guess saving that boys life would have…oh, I don't know, been symbolically appropriate, I suppose."

"Unfortunately, life seldom gives us the Hollywood ending. Believe me, I know." There was such a sadness in his words that Sarah was tempted to ask him what he was thinking of, but she never wanted to interfere in anyone's private life, since she kept such a tight lid on her own. The fact that Dr. Samuels knew of Toby showed how much she trusted him.

"You're right, of course. Maybe I expect too much from myself."

"Well, it can be exhausting living up to expectations, particularly if they're your own."

Sarah stared at him, his words sounding strangely familiar to her, but before she could respond he stood up. "Your shift is over. Go home, get some rest, and try to remember that things aren't always what they seem."

"What?"

"I said things aren't always as bad as they seem. Are you okay?" Dr. Samuels was alarmed at the sudden paleness of Sarah's face.

"I'm…no, I'm fine I just thought…nothing. I really am tired." She couldn't explain the jolt of (what was it? Excitement? Fear?) that went through her at his words, again words that sounded strangely familiar.

Her Old City apartment was quiet and welcoming in the early morning light, and the answering machine was blinking proof that she wasn't forgotten, that she wasn't alone. She pressed the button to listen to the messages as she changed from her scrubs to her pajamas. "Sarah?" came Alan's voice, "Just wondering if you'd be up for dinner and a movie tomorrow, since I know you're not working." Sarah smiled at the forced casualness of his voice. They'd been seeing each other for a couple of months, but he was far more in love with her than she him. She knew that eventually he would go the way of her other suitors, all kind and loving people who nevertheless she couldn't seem to fall in love with. It was like she left her heart somewhere, and didn't know how to get it back. The next voice one the machine was Karen, her stepmother.

"Hi, Sarah. Don't call back, I know you need to sleep, but I wanted to let you know that we sent a box of some of your stuff we found in the attic. We'll be leaving for Florida this afternoon. I'm sorry we can't stop by Philadelphia on our way down, but there just isn't time. I'd feel much worse about if I didn't know you promised to come visit us as soon as we're settled. Anyway, you father is lost among a sea of boxes, so I'd better go help him. Bye for now."

When she was comfortably clad in her old-fashioned nightgown and fuzzy slippers, Sarah settled on her sofa then reached for her phone and dialed her parent's number. "Sarah!" came Karen's delighted voice through the receiver, "I told you not to call back!"

"You always say that." Sarah smiled into the phone. "And anyway, I wanted to make sure I said goodbye to you again. Are you excited?"

"I think so. It seems like such an old person thing to do, moving to Florida, but the job your father was offered was too good to pass up. I feel like we're abandoning you, though."

"Karen, I am a grown up, you know. You are going to have a great time. And now I have an instant vacation place. So what's this box you found?"

"Just a box full of your stuff from your youth that was left in the attic. I didn't really go through it, but I thought you might like to see what's there, see if there is anything you want to keep. I sent it overnight, so it should be there for you by the time you wake up this afternoon."

"Oh. Good. Something to look forward to." They chatted a few more minutes, then Karen shooed Sarah off to bed, promising to call as soon as they were in their new home. "And if you need us…"

"I'll call." Sarah replied, once again getting that strange feeling of deja-vu. She stared at the phone for a few moments, wondering what it was that prompted that strange feeling. "Been that kind of day," she muttered to herself then, shrugging, went off to bed.

When Sarah awoke the afternoon sun was already setting, and there was a big box outside her door. Excited, she dragged it into the living room, and sliced open the top, then caught her breath in surprise at what met her gaze.

It was full of the things she hadn't seen since she was fifteen and decided it was time to grow up. It was her childhood. Soon she was smiling in delight as she pulled each childhood memento out of the box. She dreamed over every item, alternately smiling or crying at the rush of memories from things like music box from her mother or her old stuffed bear Lancelot that she had once given to Toby. When the box was empty she stood up to throw it away, but flash or red caught her eye, and she noticed something had been lost between the flaps at the bottom of the box. She pulled it out and gasped in surprise at the little leather bound book in her hands. The gold embossed letters were almost worn away, but she recognized the book, she knew the title. The Labyrinth. The story she'd told Toby as a child, the one he asked for repeatedly when he was in the hospital for the final time. Her phone rang, but she ignored it. Some sixth sense was screaming at her not to open the book, but she ignored that too, and, settling herself comfortably on her couch, began to read.

As the evening settled around her, Sarah remained engrossed in the book, alternately laughing and crying as she remembered all the times she'd acted out the story on her own, and all the times she would tell Toby the story. She was almost at the end of the book when a knock at the door startled her from the page. Flipping on the hall light, she peered out the peephole to see a very aggrieved Alan standing there. "Oh, Alan, I am so sorry!" she said, flinging open the door. "I totally forgot to call you. I got up late and my step-mom had sent me some of my old things and I just got engrossed. I'm sorry."

"You always forget to call me." Alan responded peevishly, "I know you're busy and everything, but a simple phone call isn't too much to ask, is it?"

Sarah tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice as she responded, "Alan, I said I was sorry. Yesterday was a very difficult day on several levels, and then I got distracted. It's not like I deliberately blew you off or anything."

"Well, what was so distracting?"

Sarah led him to the living room where all her old mementoes were scattered, and explained what they were, and what they meant to her. She showed him the book, and told him how much fantasy and magic used to appeal to her. As she told him, she actually felt some of that old enthusiasm come back, and she found herself welcoming it, like an old friend. "When Toby died, I pushed all that away," she told Alan, "and it was just overwhelming to see everything again. So do you see why I forgot to call you?"

Instead of looking understanding, as she fully expected him to do, Alan continued to look peeved. "You know, Sarah, we've been dating for awhile, and I've let you move at your own pace, but frankly…"

"Frankly what, Alan?"

"This is the most you've ever told me about your life. All I know about your past is that your parents were divorced, you have a stepmother, and your brother died when you were in college. It's like there's a part of you that you keep locked up from anyone who might get close to you. You don't share yourself with anyone."

"What do you think I was just doing, if not sharing?" Sarah felt her anger flaring, but a part of her couldn't help but wonder if she was angry because of what he said, or angry because he was right. "All this just because I didn't call you back about maybe going out tonight? God, Alan. I worked 12 hours yesterday and had a patient die on me. I'm sorry if you weren't my priority, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you."

"I know you do, but not the way I care for you. You just won't let anyone in."

"Then maybe you should get out."

"Fine."

Alan turned to go, and Sarah felt a surge of remorse. All her relationships seemed to end this way, and it wasn't Alan's fault. Maybe he was right. "Alan wait, I didn't mean it."

He turned and smiled sadly at her, "What's said is said."

"What?" Once again that strange sense of deja-vous hit her, this time tinged with a hint of fear. "Alan, wait…"

"I'm sorry, Sarah. It is just not going to work." He paused, his hand on the door. "It's such a pity…" before Sarah could say anything more, he was gone, and she was left alone with a growing sense of something akin to dread. The words Alan spoke triggered something in her, like a forgotten memory, or a faded dream…

"I'm losing it." She muttered, trotting back to the living room. The pieces of her childhood were still scattered all over the floor, but their appeal was gone. Alan's visit had taken the charm out of her old things. She was about to start putting everything back in the box, when the red book caught her eye. "Oh well, I may as well finish the story…" she decided, and settling herself comfortably, picked up the book.

Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city, to take back the child you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great…"

The book fell, unheeded, from Sarah's suddenly cold hands. Those words triggered something within her, a long buried memory of a dangerous journey and a pale man with bewitching, mismatched eyes… "You have no power over me," Sarah said aloud to the empty living room. For a brief moment, she expected something to happen, although she would be hard pressed to say what, and after a few seconds, she relaxed, feeling foolish. And then she heard it. A scraping, rolling sound, and it was coming towards her.

From out of her small kitchen, a small glass ball came rolling erratically across the floor. She watched it tensely, unable to move, wondering if she'd fallen asleep and this was a vivid dream or if her ordered world had indeed just come crashing apart.

The crystal ball rolled to her feet and then stopped. She stared at it, wondering if she should pick it up or just run, when a voice from behind her spoke.

"Hello Sarah."

She whirled around and saw, instead of her living room wall, a cavernous room made up of ancient stones and marble pillars. Standing in the center of the room was a person she'd long forgotten, looking just the same as he did when she was fifteen, white-blond hair framing his aristocratic face, wearing a midnight blue jacket and tight, silver trousers. She closed her eyes, "This is a dream, or I'm hallucinating. I'm a grown up, a doctor, this can't possibly be real." She chanted this to herself a few times, then opened her eyes. The castle room was still there, Jareth was still in front of her, and her own, safe and ordered living room was gone.