Sorry for the wait, as per usual. Went through a big move! And, university has started!

Sarah learned every inch of the ceiling tiles above her bed. The one directly above was speckled with little black dots in its upper right corner. The one in the corner of her room nearest the door had the smallest water stain that looked suspiciously like a crocodile head.

The rest were, for the most part, blank.

Sarah lay on her bed staring at the ceiling with an absent-minded gaze. The script to Curse of the Starving Class, which she had printed upon her arrival home, not wanting to wait for the proper script distribution by the theater, lay open on her stomach. Her mind wandered, bathing in the memory of Brad's kiss. She was unable to focus on learning her lines, which she usually liked to do the day she was cast, as any overachiever would. However, tonight it proved impossible to focus on anything other than that boy.

Sarah remembered her after-dinner conversation with Karen, when she had giddily told her the news.

"Oh Sarah, that's just marvelous!" her stepmother had chortled. "I remember him and his parents, such nice people. So...how was it?" she queried with a teasing smile.

"Kareeeen," Sarah play-whined.

"Okay, alright, I won't pry. But, by your blush, I'm sure it was good," her stepmother had closed with a wink.

They had both dissolved into girly giggles, and they shared a rare, tender moment as Karen grabbed Sarah's hands and gave them a loving squeeze.

Sarah was even distracted from the fear of falling asleep.

The dream catcher had kept him away Thursday night, but eating Goblin food had allowed him to enter her dreams once more last night. She had been strong enough to give herself a reality check and defy him yet again, but she wasn't sure what this night had in store. She had kissed Jareth—she had actually kissed the Goblin King. She figured a kiss must hold power, and that he would use this power against her; whatever that meant, she did not know.

Her mind had mulled over these things that morning, but not a single thought of the Labyrinth, crystals, Goblins, or even the Midnight Glories still glowing from their vase entered her mind. She was too engrossed in her thoughts to appreciate the fact she felt and acted like a normal teenager in that moment.

Sarah hopped out of bed and set the script on her vanity. She turned off the light and crawled under her bed covers, already prepared to sleep with her hair and teeth brushed; she shut her eyes.

That night, she slept restlessly in the wake of strange dreams. She did not dream of the Goblin King or the Labyrinth, and she did not dream of her friends or fairytales. The full spectrum of colors swam before her eyes. There was an indescribable expanding and contracting; she could not tell if this was something she was experiencing or observing. She felt a cold wind followed by an oppressive heat. A transcendent feeling of floating accompanied by bright lights and colors was followed by a feeling of sinking through thick mud accompanied by an empty darkness. Sarah felt as though she were being pushed and pulled in all directions; a queasiness was in her stomach. Lights danced before her, amorphous things contorting themselves into every shape, never holding form. They were brilliant, fuzzy balls of electricity, and then they were aqueous, glowing bubbles separating and joining. A green background, a blue background, a black background. Everything was constantly changing. There seemed to be shapes in the shadows, though Sarah could never make them out.

Sarah's breath was stolen from her.

What seemed like an eternal psychedelic episode ended abruptly. Sarah did not wake and returned to a peaceful sleep. She did not know anything had been done to her.

She did not know she had not been alone.

Jareth materialized in Sarah's bedroom as soon as his crystal revealed she had fallen asleep.

He had a thought to shake her awake, to disrupt her serenity. How dare she sleep peacefully when he was so tormented? She had kissed him, yes, but it was only for a moment; the boy had gotten to enjoy the moment. The boy had gotten to wallow in her kiss, to bask in her sweetness, while he had been denied the pleasure.

He would make her so she would never stoop to that cretin's level again.

Jareth called upon three crystals in his right hand and three in his left. He began to spin them around each other. They all lifted into the air and continued to orbit each other on a wider axis, circling around the room.

The Goblin King began to chant quietly, spinning a spell as old as the Fae themselves—with a few minor adjustments.

A darkness fell over the room, as if there were an unseen cloud blocking out the lights. One by one, the crystals popped, showering the room in glitter that landed lightly on Sarah, dissolving into her skin.

The child began to writhe. The Goblin King felt a pang of compassion for a moment; it soon passed as he imagined the end result of the task at hand.

The process was over almost as soon as it had begun. Sarah returned to her tranquil respite. The Goblin King approached and kissed his love on the nose, noting her elevated temperature.

"Soon, my love, soon."

The next morning, Sarah awoke and practically leapt out of bed.

"So that's what a good night's sleep feels like!"

'Wow I feel amazing,' she thought to herself. Sarah felt as if she could fly. She thought there was electricity in her fingertips; it was as if pure energy were coursing through her veins. She wanted to dance, she wanted to jump!

"A perfect day to call my friends!"

Soon enough, Didymus, Ludo, and Hoggle were seated on her bed. Sarah wrestled Ambrosias on the ground.

"My lady, thou wouldst conquer the world with thy vivacity!" remarked Sir Didymus.

"I just feel so well. It's probably because Jareth didn't show up last night. I bet he's given up."

"Don't go rushing into assumptions," warned Hoggle.

"Oh, don't be such a worry wart. We've gone in circles for so long now. He has to take care of the kingdom at some point."

"Sarah free?" asked Ludo, gingerly petting one of Sarah's stuffed teddy bears.

"Maybe, Ludo, just maybe."

The quartet played two games of scrabble, followed by a few more time-consuming strategy board games. Sarah was delighted that her friends had time to spare on a day she felt so marvelous.

"Well, we best get going," said Hoggle.

"Ya, I've got tap eventually," agreed Sarah. She kissed them each tenderly on the cheek and they parted ways.

Sarah decided to enjoy a workout in the park before her dance class and found that after a three-mile run and cardio exercises she did not tire. She had never felt so alive!

Her tapping was perfect. She had never been so precise in her footwork. It was almost...magical. In fact, Sarah swore she acquired lift when she danced.

A phone-call to Brad and they were soon cozied up at a burger joint—Sarah was sure to get double patty no bread—together. They made out in the car, letting their hands explore a little further this time, before Sarah returned home. She even decided to have some family time over butter pecan and chocolate chip ice cream.

Sarah thought it was a perfect day.

The next day, Monday, was the first rehearsal of Curse of the Starving Class. Sarah noticed her precious pure elation had dissipated, but she couldn't help but notice an extra buzz in her brain, an edge to her senses.

The read-through went well. Tomorrow would be the second read-through before staging began. As Sarah went to bed that night, she barely noticed the tiny pit in her stomach.

Tuesday felt the same, except the pit had grown, and by Wednesday Sarah was retching over the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach.

For the rest of the week, she barely ate. She informed the director that she was sick, but she was able to still sit in on rehearsals. Her whole week was plagued by shivers and shakes, a fever, nausea, and fatigue and lethargy.

While she showed a near inhuman grace in her dancing, and her senses seemed somehow heightened, she couldn't help but lose her focus and mess up more often than not.

On Saturday, almost one week after Sarah's "perfect" day, Karen took her to the emergency room. Sarah had barely been able to crawl from her bed.

The doctors couldn't hide their concern on their faces.

"It looks like mono, but we'll run all sorts of tests. Hang in there," the doctor with sandy blond hair had reassured her.

Karen took her stepdaughter home and made her as comfortable as she could. Sarah's skin was a sickly shade of green and her lips were drained of blood. Her sweat was oddly...sticky. Sarah had never felt so dreadful in her life. Everything hurt. Food wouldn't stay in her stomach; if she wasn't able to eat for much longer, she'd have to stay in the ER.

And there was no sight of Jareth.

"Karen...can Andrea visit?"

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea, honey," said Karen skeptically. She had already forbid Sarah's classmates from visiting, not wanting to tire Sarah out.

"Please?"

Karen thought. "Okay, but she can't stay for long."

Sarah thought perhaps she had picked up some sort of magical virus. She was sure the Labyrinth has its own germs, and perhaps she had gotten something from one of her friends. If anyone could make a diagnosis, it was Andrea.

By that evening, Andrea was sitting by her side.

"And why would you think Jareth was to blame?" asked Sarah after Andrea suggested the Goblin King was making mischief.

"After all you've told me about him, I just find it odd he wouldn't show up even once this week. And, you happen to get sick when he disappears? It's odd..."

"But, he wants to take me away. I feel like making me sick would hinder his plan, not help it."

"Unless it was an enchantment gone wrong."

Sarah thought. "Is there anything that points to this being magical? Anything at all?"

"Honey, I'm no doctor. Your test results aren't in yet, maybe you're just sick. As far as magic is concerned, I'm really not sure. I'll admit, there is something...different about you. I can't place my finger on it."

"Let's change the subject. I wanted you here for your company, not just your knowledge. Being cooped up is the worst! And I finally have someone to go on dates with!"

"Oh do tell!"

The pair turned their conversation to happy chatter, but it wasn't long before Sarah was too weak to continue talking.

When Sarah was alone, she felt as though she were imprisoned—worse than imprisoned. At least inmates could walk around.

She was trapped in her body. She could barely open her eyes. She wanted to scream, she wanted to throw something—anything. But, the effort to lift even her hand to her face to dab a tear proved to be too difficult.

If this wasn't magic...perhaps magic could save her.

Sarah was at her rope's end. She knew someone with the magic to move stars, reorder time. If the doctors couldn't help her, perhaps he could. She would never call on him unless she felt she had nowhere else to turn.

She allowed sleep to take her, and as she did, she called upon the Goblin King.

Sarah's dream was back in the Labyrinth. She noticed that she still felt lethargic and a little achy, but she did not feel so bad she needed to be bedridden.

"My my, what has earned me the honor of being called upon?" she heard the Goblin King say. Why did he insist on appearing behind her?

She turned to him.

"I have the inconvenience of calling you because I'm very sick, Jareth. I wouldn't have called if—"

"You wouldn't have called, and yet you did."

Sarah sighed. "I wouldn't have called if I didn't have any other choice. The doctors have no clue what's wrong with me. They ran tests, but if they don't know now, who's to say they will know later?"

"Oh I don't know; your human blood-work is pretty intelligent. Maybe you should give it some time. You're just afraid."

This was not the answer Sarah had expected. Was he teasing her? His answer was surprisingly vanilla. She would expect a sarcastic answer, but not when she was in need. Now she would expect at least some sort of chivalry. Wasn't he concerned? Unless...he felt he had no reason to fear.

"Jareth...do you know why I'm sick?"

"Now, why would I know why you were sick?"

He avoided answering the question.

"Fine then," retorted Sarah, "I wish I was no longer sick."

The Goblin King smiled a slow, sly grin.

"Ah, there seems to be a loophole in this particular situation."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're not sick, per say. In fact, I think you're getting better. Better than you've ever been."

"What in the world are you talking about?"

"Oh, you'll see." He turned to go.

"Wait!" Sarah stumbled forward and grabbed Jareth by the arm. "Jareth, please. You're right; I'm scared."

The King could not hide what her touch did to him. His features softened, as he let his regal guard down.

"You're not sick, pet. You're only...changing."

"What do you mean? Is this magic? Did you do this to me?!" Sarah threw his arm away.

He laughed and his demeanor was devious once more.

"I wouldn't say I made you 'sick' directly. But, I suppose, yes."

"I'm changing? You said I'm changing; what does that mean? This isn't some revenge spell turning me into a toad is it?"

Jareth laughed, but it was not good natured.

"Hardly. You're changing because you are now a changeling."

Sarah felt as though she had been slapped. She was losing her humanity?

"What?!" she exclaimed, infuriated. "How could you?! Did I ask for this? What does this mean for my life in my world?"

"Trust me, you won't want to stay in your inferior world once you've changed. Once you rise above those humans you hold so dear, you'll see."

"But, why am I sick? Is this normal? It's been a whole week; why do I feel this way?"

Sarah felt a trap door open in her stomach drop; the King looked uncertain. It was there in his eyes, concern and wariness. The King was never uncertain, and this frightened Sarah.

"I'm sure it's simply...the side effects of changing Aboveground."

"What, is it in the rules a changeling must be Underground?"

"The rules never said you must not be in the Aboveground."

"Jareth...Jareth this is magic we're toying with." Sarah began to lose her composure. Her heart began to race, the room began to spin, and she took her breath in gasps. "What if I could die? What if this could kill me? I...I..."

Sarah lost her strength and fell. Jareth was there to catch her and supported her weight, reveling in the feeling of her limp in his arms. He was glad she did not wake.

When Sarah looked up at him, her mind went blank. They were pressed against each other, their faces inches apart. The sudden nearness of him rid her mind of even fear of death.

It soon passed as she became aware of how weak she felt.

"Jareth, please. Remember when we agreed to a safeword? I'm invoking that right now. My safeword is Labyrinth, and I wish for you to adhere to it."

"I'm afraid there's yet another loophole. If I could adhere to your safeword, I would. What's done is done. Trust me, precious, my goal is not to kill you."

With that, he let her go. The ground disappeared from under her and she fell, torn from the Labyrinth in a jolt. She awoke gasping and coughing. Her tongue tasted bile as she dry-heaved. Light through the curtains told her it was Sunday morning. Her gasping brought Karen running into the room. Sarah began to shake uncontrollably and cry tearless sobs.

"Ohmygod. Sarah honey, we're going back to the emergency room."

And with that, both her father and stepmother escorted her out once more.

Sarah didn't remember the trip to the hospital, and awoke lucid to white sheets and an IV in her arm. What time was it?

"She's awake," said an unfamiliar voice. Sarah gained her bearings and looked around the room that was presumably a hospital room. A blonde nurse was walking towards her with a thermometer. Her parents were seated at the left side of her bed, worried lines creasing their faces. The nurse took her temperature. Sarah had questions, but all she could manage was, "Tests?"

The nurse, whose name was Shirley, spoke. "Your tests are on high priority and we've rushed some of them. The results we do have are obsolete. So far there's no sign of anything. The doctors are continuously looking over your scans, and we should have the remaining tests back by tonight or early tomorrow. Your body is behaving as if it were reacting to an autoimmune disease, or as if you were going septic. Your bodily systems are...not failing, yet, but it looks like your body doesn't want to work right now, and we're worried about renal failure," the nurse said giving her what was meant to be a reassuring smile. It was that sort of out-of-place smile that nurses gave when they meant to give you comfort, but not hope.

System failure? Was that the next step? So, she was dying.

Jareth paced nervously in the throne room as he waited on the Wiseman.

Yes, he'd been warned of the risks involved with the spell. Yes, he had been warned that it could be very dangerous given the unique situation.

No, he didn't think it would fail.

Jareth held a crystal and gazed upon Sarah lying motionless in a hospital bed. He had never seen her so weak before. Where was his queen with fire in her soul? He realized that he had perhaps gone too far. Again. Last night he had been sure of his plan, and now he was afraid there was no turning back from the demise he had set upon the young girl.

The Goblin King rarely worried. But, his love was in danger—by his hand. He had placed her in harm's way before, but now she was in grave peril. The previous dangers had been situations he could control; now, he was powerless. He had never been without power before.

The Wiseman entered. Before he could say anything, the King began his demands.

"Save her. I don't care what you do, I don't care if it reverses the spell. Save her. You can, can't you?"

"There...is no reversal. The spell cannot be undone. It seems she must be here in the Underground in order to survive the change. The change needs magic surrounding it. Unless..."

"Unless what?!" boomed Jareth.

"Unless it is too late. The magic may have made its way too deeply into her body, and her body's rejection of the magic may be too far along for even the Underground to make a difference."

"Don't say that. Don't you dare say that. There is always a way. Magic can do anything! I can do anything!"

"But not everything, my Lord."

Such a retort would have landed anyone else in the dungeon. However, the Wiseman, as tiring as he could be, was revered for his age and wisdom even by his king. This remark was said as an elder teaching a pupil. Jareth found he was rendered speechless by the reality and gravity of the old one's observation.

"We have to try," the Goblin King said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Then take me to her. While she sleeps, let's not alarm her."

In a room far below the Castle, in a far corner not even prisoners had seen, the Goblin King sent bursts of magic careening through the corridor. He splintered wooden doors, he bent metal bars with his bare hands, he punched stone wall until his knuckles poured forth blood, his splintering bones healing and shattering with each blow. The king thrashed about like a madman, until he fell exhausted to the floor. He screamed as loud as his throat would allow, he screamed an anguishing, inhuman sound too terrible to plague even the vilest of nightmares.

Too late. Too late, the Wiseman had said.

He would lose his love. The very human that was his greatest treasure was the very thing to which he would bring an end. She would die.

The king thought perhaps he would, too.

Sarah could no longer feel any pain, but it was as if a heavy weight was pressing down on her chest and she were floating, suspended in a river of endless time. Not being able to move was torture. Even the slightest motion proved to be too exerting. She wanted to escape; she knew one place she could go for respite.

Sarah conjured up a vision of the Labyrinth, praying she would go there in her dreams. She felt herself floating off, drifting away from consciousness. As she was carried away, she felt another presence. She found herself in a place without shape or form, surrounded by dark purple and black, like the colors of eyelids squinted shut.

I didn't mean to harm you, poppet. Had I known, I would have taken you away to change and heal in the Underground, came Jareth's voice.

I know you didn't. And you know I would've resisted anyway. I would've said death was preferable to being stolen, she replied.

Always so stubborn, he remarked lovingly, always so strong.

I guess not strong enough, she added with melancholy.

She pulled her mind away from his. She did not want to spend more time there; she had somewhere she wanted to be.

The walls of the Labyrinth took form around her. Their natural sparkle twinkled awesomely, and a cool, warm breeze blew down the corridor in which Sarah found herself.

Sarah didn't know why, but being inside Labyrinth made her feel better. It wasn't so painful to move, yet it was still laborious. She leaned against the wall in front of her, pressing her forehead to the stone and letting the coolness sooth her head.

"I'm sorry," she said. She didn't know why. Secretly, she had always thought she'd at least visit again someday. Get a cup of tea with the worm.

Before she died.

"I'm sorry I let him win. That I never tried to explore your world and magic."

Sarah knew that talking to a stone structure was crazy, but the Labyrinth itself had always been sentient in her mind. And she felt stronger within the Labyrinth, the beast she had bested.

"I wish you could take this from me. I wish we knew a way to undo the enchantment."

Sarah suddenly had the feeling of another presence. She looked around, but no one was there. Then, in the back of her mind, she felt a warmth. She heard no words, but she felt an answer.

We can.

"Am I crazy?" Sarah asked with a sad smile. Of course. The Labyrinth was just stone, and her mind had simply done some wishful thinking.

Again, Sarah felt she wasn't alone and a warmth spread across her. Not even the sound of birds could be heard, but she felt that someone—something—had given a negative answer to her question.

"Are...are you listening to me?"

Sarah felt reassurance.

"You...you're hearing me. Are you answering?"

Sarah again felt reassured again, but she sensed the feeling of impatience coloring this reply.

"I...I never knew. And he never said anything. I guess that's magic for you."

Then Sarah remembered something.

...the king of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers.

Sarahhad always assumed that this meant wishing from the Goblin King, so she never utilized it; she was sure it came with a price. But, if the Labyrinth had its own power...

"Please," begged Sarah, "please take this from me. I want to remain human. I want to live. Please."

Sarah once again felt a warmth spread over her body, and in the back of her mind she heard a buzzing. She felt herself growing lighter, the fog lifting from her head and the weight from her chest. She watched as her skin emitted sparkles and sent them dissolving into the air. Breathing became easier.

The feeling of growing lighter and lighter grew stronger, and Sarah found herself floating up into the sky. Colors grew lighter until she was surrounded by bright, white light. Up she floated...

Sarah awoke with a gasp. She gulped in deep, uninhibited draughts of air. A nurse came running. The red-haired woman was shocked to see Sarah sitting upright. She walked up to her and felt her forehead.

"Your fever's broke!" The nurse scuttled away. Sarah assumed she ran to get the doctor, and her assumption proved to be correct as she reentered with the sandy-haired doctor, Doctor Whitaker.

Within two hours, a slew of tests had been conducted. The eventual results said she was back to normal health with strong vitals and an average temperature, but the doctors still wanted to keep her overnight for observation.

Sarah's first concern was letting the theater company know she was better, but her parents insisted she take Monday off in order to rest.

Sarah was still befuddled about what had happened. Had the Labyrinth healed her? Had she herself been able to access the Labyrinth's power? Whatever had happened, she was sure she hadn't seen the last of Jareth, but perhaps he would be more careful with his magic.

Sarah was exhausted. She slipped quietly into sleep, though it was long before bedtime.

Jareth watched Sarah within a crystal. She leaned her head against the Labyrinth wall and was speaking to it. He was amazed she chose to go there, that with what could be her dying breaths she would spend them in the Labyrinth. Telepathically, at least.

Then, the King felt a shift. He sensed magic. He watched as Sarah drew on the power of the Labyrinth and healed. He was stunned, speechless, in disbelief. He had no clue the Labyrinth had the power to undo such an enchantment. He had no clue Sarah was able to access that magic. She certainly couldn't use it—he hadn't afforded her that much power—but he was grateful the Labyrinth had been able to cure her.

He walked to the window. "So, old girl, you've still got a couple tricks up your sleeve." He felt the warm presence of the Labyrinth in his mind.

"Thank you."

Sarah awoke to a nurse taking her blood pressure. The light through the window was pale, so it must've been pre-dawn.

"Did you sleep well?"

There on the left side of the bed sat the Goblin King. She went to protest, but was cut off.

"Ah ah ah, she can't see or hear me. Don't speak, or else they'll think you're crazy and keep you from rehearsals longer."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. How dare he.

Can you hear this? she thought.

"I'll be nice and let you know that I can," he remarked lazily.

THEN HOW DARE YOU?!

He winced at the sudden increase in volume. Sarah was fuming and fighting back tears so the nurse, who was setting about clearing trash, refilling water, and filling out something on a clipboard, would not be alarmed. Sarah calmed her tone.

Jareth, I could've died. Is it worth it?

"Yes!" He bellowed, standing. The force knocked a plastic cup off the bedside table, causing to nurse to glance at it with a furrowed brow.

"Do you think I meant to hurt you? To kill you is far from my aim. By now you must know that I will not stop. My power knows no bounds, there is nowhere my grasp cannot reach. I love you, Sarah. Love is more dangerous than hate."

Then we're back to square one.

"That we are."

How are you even here? My will should not permit your presence.

"Your kiss granted me a certain access. True love's kiss is powerful."

Don't say that! A hefty assumption.

"Yet here I am."

The nurse leaned over Sarah and examined her face.

"Your temperature is elevated, and you look uncomfortable. Are you alright?" the nurse asked.

"I'm fine," said Sarah, her voice cracking slightly. "Just upset to be missing rehearsal."

"Well, we don't want another relapse. Try to rest, dear." The nurse touched her cheek in comfort and left the room.

"Leave me," Sarah said out loud.

"As you wish. I will let you rest; it's only fair. I'll see you soon enough." His countenance softened. "I say this with all the sincerity a heart can muster: I am sorry. Truly and deeply, I am sorry."

He faded into nothing. Sarah shut her eyes and let frustrated tears fall. She was not sure how much more she could take, and she was angry for the response her emotions and body had to him saying those three little words.

She had just woken up, but she was already tired again.