AN: Thank you to everyone who reviewed this story. I'm glad you're enjoying it. Please continue to read and review. This chapter is actually very dark, so if you're squeamish about such things consider yourself warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth.


Toby was struggling so hard to drag Rose from Sarah's bedroom, he almost didn't notice the soft moan that seemed to rise up from the center of the house. As it began to get louder, his mind registered it but thought that he was making it himself in his singleminded quest to tear his daughter away. When the moan became a roar, however, and shook the very foundations beneath him, he had no choice but to let Rose go to cover his own ears. Wind began to screech around him, taking his breath away, and he stumbled backward trying to escape it. He reached for Rose, but she stood completely still, not a hair out of place, as though she was not only oblivious to the maelstrom around them, but immune to it as well. He called her name, but she took no note, her face pale and her gaze far away.

Suddenly the wind stopped, the roaring stopped, and for a few seconds an otherworldly quiet descended upon them. Toby tentatively took his hands from his ears, then took a step toward Rose. Before he could take another, he felt the unmistakable sensation of icy hands pressed against his chest. He heard a voice, ghostly yet familiar, screech "Leave her!" just as the hands shoved him backwards through the bedroom door. He scrambled to his feet but the door closed soundly in his face.

Toby stared at the door numbly, his tired mind refusing to accept what had just happened. Ancient memories, memories he had been too young to keep yet somehow had, were screaming through his brain like a steam train despite his best efforts to block them out. He began to pound on the door. "Rose!" he cried, "Rose, open the door!" He screamed her name over and over, his voice becoming hoarse, but there was no answer from inside the room. With tears in his eyes he slid down the door, resting his head upon it as he continued to pound weakly.

Finally, accepting what his heart already knew, he took another tack. "Sarah." He called, his voice pleading. "Sarah, please let her go! She doesn't belong to you, Sarah, she's mine!"

The wind surrounded him again, but it was softer this time, a caress, and with eyes closed he leaned into without thinking. The voice returned as well, also soft and as comforting as a ghostly voice can be. "Shh…Tobes. It's okay. I don't mean to keep her, and I won't hurt her either. Why would I hurt your daughter when I gave up everything to save you?"

Toby opened his eyes, and looked once more on the face that had haunted his dreams since he was a baby. Even as a spirit she was as beautiful as he remembered, and her green eyes still seemed to sparkle with a secret she could never reveal. The emotions were suddenly too much, and though he tried to speak he could only sob out her name. The ghostly image in front him smiled softly. "I promise I'll give her back safe and sound, little brother. I just need to borrow her for a little while." Then she vanished, and Toby was left sobbing on the floor.


Sarah returned to the room, her gaze falling to Rose, who was slumped on the floor. That last burst of energy to push Toby out of the room had been a bit too much for the girl all at once, and she had passed out. She would be fine, Sarah knew, just a little tired. She felt sorry her, a bit guilty for using her the way she was, but there would be no permanent damage, at it was the only way for Sarah to find peace. She moved to stare out the window once again, as she waited for the sleeping girl to regain herself, and watched as the sun began to set over the horizon. What she would give to be able to feel the cool night air on her cheek once again.

There had been a time when she had been happy here, in this home, in this room. She had been a carefree dreamer, no worries or cares in the world. That had all ended when her mother left her. She had felt her dreams being ripped from her grasp, and she had fought with every ounce of her strength to keep them, to the point that she alienated herself from others to keep them from hurting her the same way. Then her father had remarried, and Karen had tried to make her grow up. She had hated her for that, and pushed her away, as well as her father for bringing the woman into the house. Then there was Toby. Toby was responsibility, and responsibility was the enemy of dreams.

She had made a choice one night, a choice to believe the fairy tales, to put all of her belief into a hope and call that hope to her. It had worked too well, and it had cost her everything.

The Goblin King. She smiled as she thought of him. He had been everything she wanted, everything she needed. All of her hopes and dreams in living breathing form. Heiving breathing form.ded fairy tales, to put all of her belief into a hope and call that hope to He truly had turned the world upside down for her, moved the stars for her. What more could she have wanted? More importantly, he had forced her to grow up, to face that the world was a sad place full of injustice. In the end he had offered her a choice, a terrible choice but the only one he could give her. Her dreams for Toby, his love for her acquiescence, her happiness for Toby's future. It was an unfair choice, but one she had brought upon herself. Though she had hated him at first, she had come to understand that it was her own selfishness that had set the rules to the game, and Jareth had been bound to play by them.

She had sold her happiness, her dreams, her only chance at love to win back the child she had foolishly wished away.


Toby was slumped against the door. He had heard no sound from Sarah's bedroom in several minutes, but tried to comfort himself that Sarah would never hurt her own flesh and blood. Rose would be alright, he knew, but out here he was facing his own demons. The memories were relentless, and with eyes shut tight and fists clenched, he allowed himself to relive them, the pain as fresh as it was all those years ago.

Karen opened the door and set the groceries on the kitchen table, while Toby toddled in behind her, a toy airplane gliding through the air as he pursed his lips together to make the propeller noise. "Sarah!" Karen called. "Sarah, I picked Toby up early from daycare, but I have to go back to work for an hour, I need you to watch him, okay?" There was no answer, and Karen stood at the foot of the stares, her hands on her hips. "Sarah Williams, do you hear me?" When she still received no answer she turned around, shaking her head. "Honestly, I don't know what to do with that girl." She complained. " Eighteen years old and still walking around with her head in the clouds."

She knelt down next to Toby. "Mommy has to go to work for a little while, blue eyes." She said, pinching his cheeks, Toby wrinkled his nose in distaste and continued playing with his airplane. "Go upstairs and tell Sarah to put these groceries away. Then maybe the two of you can go to the park, okay?"

Toby smiled, his eyes twinkling. Going to the park with Sarah was the greatest thing in the world. She would tell him stories, and sometimes they would act the stories out. Then she would ride him around on her back and pretend she was a horsey and he was a knight.

Happily, he ran up the stairs, his trusty airplane gliding along beside him, and stopped outside Sarah's door. He knocked on it softly, just like Sarah had taught him, but there was no answer. He knocked a little louder, but she still didn't answer. He began to worry that she wasn't here. He had heard the big door close downstairs and he knew his mother had gone already. Suddenly terrified of being in the bit house alone, he committed the ultimate sin against Sarah. He opened the door without being invited.

At first, his little mind didn't understand what he was seeing. He giggled, thinking that Sarah was being silly, pretending to sleep on the floor by her dressing table. Then he noticed that her chair was knocked over, as though she had fallen out of it. There was something all over the floor, something red and sticky. It looked like blood.

Toby knew what blood was, he had cut his finger once with steak knife and it had bled and bled and bled. At the time he had thought it was a lot of blood, but it was nothing compared to this.

Toby felt his fingers go cold, and his stomach felt sick. He was too young to know that the feeling was called dread. He moved closer to Sarah, slowly, and knelt down next to her. She was laying on her stomach, her face turned away from him. As he knelt beside her, he brushed his chubby fingers through her hair. He jumped involuntarily as her head raised and turned weakly to face him. Her eyes were glassy, and there was confusion in her voice when she spoke. "Toby?" she said softly, and then there were tears in her eyes. "Oh no, Toby!" She cried. "Go, baby, get out of here. Go get Karen." Her voice was weaker with each word she spoke, and she struggled fruitlessly to pull herself up from the floor.

"Mommy's gone." Toby said numbly. "She went back to work. You're supposed to take me to the park." He knew it was a foolish thing to say, but he wanted so badly for her to get up, even if it meant she would be mad at him.

Her eyes were still full of tears, but they seemed to be very far away now. "Go, Toby." She said, her voice barely a whisper. "Leave and close the door. Wait for your mom to get home."

"No, Sarah." Toby cried, his four year old mind only beginning to comprehend the seriousness of the situation. "Get up! Please get up?" It was no use. The light in Sarah's eyes had faded away, he had watched it go. She wasn't moving anymore, and even though he yelled and screamed and kicked she didn't so much as blink. All he managed to do was get her blood all over himself. Finally he laid down next to her, his head resting on her shoulder. He didn't know how long he stayed like that, if he had fallen asleep or had just been in shock, but the next thing he remembered was being cold, very, very cold.

He looked at Sarah. She still had not moved, and now her skin was starting to turn blue. His stomach clenched up and threw up, mindful to do it far away from her. He suddenly couldn't bear the thought of seeing her this way another second. He stood slowly and walked toward the door, and then remembered his airplane. He turned and found it, lying in a half congealed pool of blood. With wooden fingers he picked it up and walked slowly out of Sarah's room. He turned to look at her one more time before he closed the door, and her lifeless eyes stared back at him for brief eternity before he walked away.

He made his way down the stairs, his airplane gliding silently beside him, and heard the front door open. Karen walked in, fumbling to put her keys in her purse, and barely noticed that he was there. "Did you and Sarah have fun?" she asked, not even glancing at him. He just stared at her dumbly. She set her purse down on the counter and turned around, looking at him at last. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to understand what she was seeing. "Toby, what have you got.." She knelt beside him, seeing the gore caked on his skin and clothing and hair. "Toby, is that blood?" she half gasped, half shrieked. Toby made no sound, only continued to stare wordlessly. "Toby answer me!" she cried. "Whose blood is this?"

Toby opened his mouth, but no sound would come out. He tried again but he just couldn't seem to say her name. Finally he pointed up the stairs, and Karen's gaze followed the gesture, her face growing pale as understanding set in. She flew up the stairs, Toby momentarily forgotten, and he slowly followed her. He heard the door being flung open, heard his mother shriek her name, followed by wordless sobs. He reached the top of the stairs and walked to the doorway, leaning against it for support, as he watched his mother cradle Sarah's limp body in her arms, saying her name over and over again as though the repetition would somehow bring her back. Then he slid down the doorframe and sat, Indian Style, just outside the door and went back to playing with his airplane.


"Why did you do it?" Sarah registered the question with quiet amusement. It was a question she had been asking herself for over thirty years. She turned, her ghostly gaze settling on her niece, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor. She smiled, gratified to see that the girl seemed unharmed and unafraid.

"You're awake, I see." She said, gliding across the floor. The sun had set and it was getting dark in the room, the only light coming from the moon and from Sarah.

"A little tired, though." Rose answered. "I don't really know what happened." She stood shakily and came face to face with her dead Aunt's apparition.

"I should apologize." Sarah said. "I have to borrow a bit of energy from you in order to manifest this way. That little display earlier used a bit more than I had intended, and you passed out."

"Oh." Rose said, wondering if she should be terrified now. "And what about my question."

Sarah laughed, recognizing that spark of determination and defiance. "You mean why did I kill myself?" she asked.

"Yes." Rose answered. "And what did the note mean."

Sarah turned, gliding back to the window to look out at the moon. For a split second she thought she saw a snow white owl flying against the dark night sky, but knew it was only wishful thinking. "Well." She began. "The first question is easy. I thought If I was dead I could make the pain go away. Instead, all I did was doom everyone I cared about to share it with me."

Rose nodded. "And the second question?"

Sarah turned around to face her neice once more. "Ah, that is actually a very long story." She said softly.

Rose moved to the bed, pulling the plastic covering from the mattress and making herself comfortable on it. "It looks like I have time." She said.