A/N: Things were getting a little too light and fluffy for my taste, I had to put some darkness into it. I'm a sucker for realism. Thanks again for the wonderful reviews. Keep them coming, please!

Disclaimer: Only the wordcraft is mine.

Jareth stared at Sarah for a moment, not sure what to say. Truth be told he had not thought of Richard since Sarah's return, and so it had never occurred to him that the punishment no longer fit the crime. He watched her, trying to gauge what her reaction would be, but her face was an open book.

Jareth's hesitation did not go unnoticed by Sarah, and she looked at him uneasily. "Jareth," she sighed, "What have you done?"

Jareth stood, instantly becoming defensive in the face of Sarah's implied rebuke. "Much less than he deserved, I assure you!" he told her, "And less than my heart demanded."

"Is he…is he alive?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, he's alive!" Jareth spat, then softened a little seeing the stricken look on Sarah's face. "At least I think he's still alive. I haven't checked on him for days." Then turning back to face her, studying her, he asked honestly, "Why should you even care? He doesn't deserve your concern."

Sarah felt a lump growing in her throat. Why did she care? After everything he had done to her and to Maya, why shouldn't she just forget him and go on with her life? Perhaps it was because she knew she was responsible for his being here. Perhaps it was because she had been given a second chance, she felt her father deserved one too. Or maybe it was just a scared little girl that still wanted to believe that there was some good in the man she called Daddy. She looked up at Jareth, tears in her eyes. She had no way of expressing these things in words, but she didn't have to.

Jareth sat next to her again, her tears calming his anger. He put his arms around her and stroked her hair. "Shh…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten angry. I should have told you before now, but I suppose I had other things on my mind." He readjusted her in his arms so that he could look into her eyes. "Do you want to see him?" he asked her.

She took a moment to respond, not sure if she really wanted to or not. Then she nodded, knowing that she had to put an end to the questions in her mind.

Jareth sighed. "I'll take you to him, then, but you have to understand something first. When I did this, I thought you were dead, and I was sick with grief and rage. I wanted to punish him, I wanted him to suffer as I was suffering." He studied her, and felt heartsick at the fear in her eyes. "Please don't be angry with me, Sarah." He whispered, afraid to look at her any longer.

She cupped her hand to his face and brought him back to her. "I could never be angry with you Jareth." She said gently, and it was true. She didn't know what he had done, but she knew he had done it out of love for her, and she was awestruck by the knowledge. "But I need to see him." She said, and added, "Alone."

Jareth instantly protested this. "I'll not leave you alone with him, Sarah, not after all that he's done!" His voice was raised and the words held a hint of the commanding tone she remembered from so long ago. To his dismay, she rewarded him with an amused smile.

"Nor would I expect you to." She said. "You will be there for me, just as you have always been in matters concerning my father. But he needs to see me and only me." Jareth still looked unconvinced, and she gave his hands a reassuring squeeze. "If I need you, I'll know how to find you." She said.

Jareth contemplated forcing the issue, but he could tell that she was immovable. Reluctantly, he nodded his head. "Very well then, Sarah, if that is your wish. But I shall be close by, and if for one minute I think things are going badly, I won't wait for you to call me."

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"Darkness, darkness everywhere, and not a drop to drink." Richard whispered to himself and the rats. The phrase made no sense, but he was in no position to know that. He had no idea how long he had been in this hole, but it must have been years, surely. After his visit from that growling maniac, he had started searching for an exit once again. He had clawed at the cold stone until his fingers bled, to no avail. He couldn't even find where the rats were coming from, though there seemed to be more everyday. He often awakened to find one nibbling at his fingertips. At first this had been disconcerting, now he called it fishing.

He would wait until the rat grew bolder, his breathing silenced. Eventually the furry creature would sit entirely in his hand, nibbling away. Still, he would wait a few more seconds, letting the rodent think he was dead. Then, quick as lighting, he would close his hand around it, breaking its neck in one swift movement. Viola! Lunch is served.

He laughed wickedly in the darkness. How he had outsmarted that freak! What was his name? Jareth…that was it. He couldn't remember his own name sometimes, but Jareth's name never escaped him. How he longed to see him again, oh the fish he would catch! He would let him think he was dead, and then, when he least expected it, he would snap his smug neck!

He sat drawing unseen drawings in the mud floor of his prison. Tomb, his mind corrected, but he shut that thought out. He laughed again, a gleeful laugh that only insanity can breed. He was clawing at the ground as he laughed, and staring into the darkness. The damned darkness, he had hated it so much at first. Now it was his only constant, his only friend. Only the darkness saw what he had become, and it didn't judge him.

There was a new sound in the darkness. No, not new, he had heard it once before. It was the sound of another person in his cell. Now was his chance! He became perfectly still, slowed his breathing, willed his heart to quiet itself. He heard soft footsteps coming toward him and he waited patiently for them to come closer, closer still, close enough to strike.

Suddenly there was a stabbing pain in his head, as though he had been pierced through the eyes. He closed them until the pain subsided and then opened them again, very gently. The light was coming from the person before him, a soft glow emanating from the very skin. He looked up into the face of his tormentor, but saw instead the eyes of a young woman. She was so familiar.

"Daddy?" he heard her say. Daddy…that used to be his name. Who had called him that? Then he remembered. Sarah, his Sarah! Something bad had happened to her, someone had killed her. He sobbed gently in the darkness, remembering the pain when he learned she was dead. Oh, his baby girl was dead? How had that happened? Jareth! He had taken his little girl away from him. How he despised him!

The ghostly form of his daughter bent down and touched his face. "Daddy? Can you hear me?" she asked.

"Sarah?" he croaked, reaching out to her.

"Yes, daddy, it's me." She had tears in her eyes. He had no idea ghosts could cry.

"He killed you." He whispered.

"Who killed me, Daddy?" She looked confused. Poor thing.

"That freak." He spat. "That….Jareth. He killed you and locked me in here." She must not remember. Being dead must have clouded her mind.

"No Daddy." She said, her face a portrait of sadness. "It wasn't Jareth. Don't you remember what happened Daddy?"

There was a tingle in the back of his mind, a nagging memory trying to be noticed, but he pushed it away. "NO!" he barked, and she flinched away from him. "It was Jareth!"

The specter of his daughter shook her head. How dare she contradict him! Dead or not, he was still her father! "Jareth would never hurt me, Daddy, he loves me." She said. Loves her? Oh, this was too much. He stood up, a clawing, retching motion that took more energy than he currently had, but he stood to face her.

"Why are you here?" he demanded. "Why are you tormenting me?"

"I wanted to see you, Daddy." She said. She was still the picture of sadness, but the tears were gone, replaced by a growing detachment.

Richard pressed his back against the wall, his hands sliding aimlessly against the smooth stone. "You wanted to see me like this?" he howled, and chuckled to himself as she backed away from him. "I didn't think so." He whispered, and only he could hear.

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'What have you done to him?' Sarah sent, 'He's insane!'

'Wasn't he already?' was the response she received.

'Not like this' she thought. 'He's gone completely mad! He doesn't remember anything. He thinks you killed me!'

'So I heard' Jareth answered.

'How could you put him here? You had to know what it would do to him!"

He knew she wasn't angry with him, but the unspoken accusation stung him just the same. 'As I said, it was no more than he deserved for what he did to you. Were you still dead, I wouldn't spare him a moment's thought.'

'And now?' she asked gently, feeling the hurt she had caused him and regretting the sharpness of her words.

'Now I don't know what to do with him' he sighed. 'What would you have me do, love, send him back to your world, to torment other children? Unleash him into the Underground, to perhaps find Maya once more?'

Sarah thought silently, knowing the truth of his words. What could be done with him? 'The Bog?' she wondered.

'The Bog is a temporary punishment, darling. He would find his way out, and be unchanged for the experience. We would merely be delaying the inevitable.'

'Then what can we do with him?' she cried. 'I can't bear to leave him like this, and we can't just kill him.'

Jareth was silent for far too long, and when he spoke again, it wasn't in her mind but behind her. "No, we can't." he agreed. Sarah turned to face him, and saw what he held in his hand.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, although she had a fair idea of what he had in mind.

"I'm giving him a second chance." He said, then seeing that she was terrified, he put his arms around her and kissed her softly. "I'm sorry we have to do this love, but I can think of no other way."

Sarah nodded. "I trust you." She whispered. Both of them turned to Richard, whose face was contorted in rage.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY DAUGHTER YOU FREAK!" he screamed, lunging towards Jareth, who waved his hand as though swatting a fly. Richard fell back against the wall, the wind knocked out of him.

Jareth fixed him with a warning glare. "I would suggest you not try that again." He said coldly, and Richard fumed silently.

"You killed my daughter!" Richard shouted.

"No," Jareth corrected, "You killed your daughter."

"How dare you." Richard growled.

"I grow tired of this." Jareth said, and strode toward Richard. Despite himself, Richard cowered against the wall. When he saw what Jareth was holding, he tried to run, but Jareth grabbed his arm and pulled him to face him. He placed the gun in Richards trembling hands and commanded "Remember!"

Richard stared dumbly at the cold metal in his hands. In a flash, it all came back to him. He was with Maya, Sarah had come in, she had had the gun, he had taken it away from her. He had aimed it at her, he had pulled the trigger, HE had killed her! Tears welled up within him, and he began to sob in long shuddering breaths. He looked up at Sarah. "I'm so sorry..." he cried, "I'm so sorry, baby."

Sarah stepped toward her father. "It's okay, Daddy." She comforted him, putting her arms around him. "I forgive you. I forgive you for everything." She marveled at her own words. It was as though a weight she didn't even realize she had been carrying had been lifted from her shoulders. She held her father for several moments, allowing him to cry on her shoulder. She looked towards Jareth, wondering what he would do now, but Jareth was impassive, staring at her father expectantly.

Eventually Richard pulled away from his daughter and looked up at the Goblin King. Their eyes met, and some instinct that Sarah hadn't known was there told her to back away. To her horror, her father raised the gun in his hand and aimed it at her husband. Jareth didn't move, didn't flinch. There was no trace of fear in his eyes. This seemed to infuriate her father even more, and he pulled the trigger.

The gun fired, over and over again, the shots deafening in the cold stone cell. Sarah screamed, and covered her hands with her ears. To her relief, Jareth remained untouched, merely watching her father with cold interest. Richard fired the gun several more times, bellowing with rage, before lowering the gun and sinking to the ground. Jareth moved to Sarah's side and put his arms around her, reassuring her that he was unhurt.

Sarah looked at her father with tear filled eyes. "Why Daddy?" she asked, but he did not answer. Instead, he raised the gun once again, this time pressing it to his own head, and pulled the trigger. Jareth reacted, pulling her face to his chest, but it wasn't fast enough; she had seen her father's gruesome death. She wept bitterly, and Jareth comforted her as best he could. She looked up at him expectantly. "You knew he would do that." She choked.

"I hoped he wouldn't" he responded, and it was enough. They had done what they could for him, but her father was too far gone for redemption. At least he wouldn't suffer any longer, and he would never cause anyone else to suffer.

"Will we just leave him here like this?" she asked softly, glancing at the sad pile of flesh that had once been her father.

"I'll see to it that he's taken care of." Jareth answered, and with a thought they had left the oubliette behind them.

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Richard was confused. He was still in his prison, but he was alone now. There was no gun in his hand, and no one was with him. He thought he must have dreamed the incident, until he looked down and saw himself, crumpled and bloody on the dirt floor. Fear took him and he scrambled to the other side of the cell. He was screaming, but there was no echo; it was as though the sound didn't exist. Panic threatened to take over his mind, until he felt a light touch on his shoulder and was instantly comforted.

He turned to find himself face to face with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She smiled gently at him, and took his hand in hers. "Come, child." She said. "It's time to start over. Please try to do better this time around."