A/N: This was a rough week for me but I enjoyed putting this chapter together. Jareth gets to go full savage mode with Dr. Myers (and yes I realize I've screwed up the spelling of his name in multiple chapters, switching between 'Myers' and 'Meyers' and I fully plan to do a couple of extra rounds of clean up/editing once the story is complete.) and there's even the tiniest hint of smut. Who among us doesn't love a good finger sucking?

At first glance, the basement of Jary King's office looked like the inside of a Chucky Cheese arcade, complete with the low lighting and neon star lights sprinkling the ceiling and edges of the floor. What broke the sentimental illusion was the set of egg-shaped pods elevated on a metal stand full of various wires and cords and lit up around the perimeter with futuristic blue led lights. Wires in every length, color, and texture of insulation wrapped around the base of the pods and extended to what looked like a tunnel of giant, black square cartridges that flashed white and blue behind their porous metal screens.

Jary stepped in front of me, legs spread wide and chin high when I continued to gape in silence. "What you're getting exclusive access to here is the world's thirteenth most powerful supercomputer and the virtual reality haptic units are beyond comparison. Both engineered and programmed by myself alone."

He smoothed his blond hair back for a stretch, clearly pausing to assess what level of impressed I was. I would be once he walked the walk and gave me an experience that could make me forget the bomb he had dropped onto my lap about Meyers and how much had been disclosed about my personal life.

"Can we get started now?" I crossed over to the first pod and ran my hands over the strange, elongated goggles that hung from the top. They looked and felt too top-heavy to avoid sliding right off the wearer's face.

Jary sighed and his shoulders seemed to shrink a few inches on his way over to my side. "I do admire your eagerness, but there is a precautionary screening you need to complete to ensure a safe trial."

I hadn't thought safety would be a concern. I thought this was a video game with some technical bells and whistles. "It's virtual reality," I narrowed my eyes. "Why would there be any risk?"

"I'd rather we didn't get into the technical jargon, but suffice it to say that the current VR devices on the market only engage your visual and auditory senses, with the illusion of movement from the eyewear sensors connecting to the limited graphic environment designed in the game, whereas my headgear sends a spark to your entire sensory neuron network through the retinas, creating a total immersion experience."

The pulse at my throat jumped. Jary's hesitation to break it down for me made sense. If what he was saying wasn't an exaggeration, if his VR did directly alter the already tenuous chemistry of the brain, my original accusation of being an elaborate guinea pig still stood.

"Oh I get it, we're back at square one. It's the kind of risk worth taking on a brain society's deemed damaged goods but not on any valuable volunteer such as yourself?"

Jary cackled and leaned against one of the supercomputer modules behind him. "I've taken advantage of my 'damaged goods' exactly eight hundred and sixty times in test rounds of Dark Turnabout. I just need some young blood to test the parameters of imagination." Both his icy blue eye and his dilated black eye turned bright with merriment. "I know I'm pretty, but my visualization is crustier than an octogenarian slug these days."

Then this had been a one-man undertaking at every level. I guess I could understand wanting a new beta tester, but that still didn't explain sourcing the institute. "Why not reach out to a temp agency then or put out an ad for aspiring game testers that would already be interested?"

For the first time that day, Jary King broke eye contact with me and turned so that he was only in profile to me. "You mean why stomach the board of directors' greedy hands? Why risk some sort of deviant or stupified mind crossing Labyrinth Co's doors and doing more harm than good?" He returned to face me and frowned, presumably resisting the answers to his astute rhetorical questions. "There's no risk at all when you have the money to buy the exact, right person for the job. I've waited for and desired you long enough, Sarah."

The room transformed into a furnace and, inversely, all thought froze. "What?"

"You don't remember me, but I'm a friend, an ally you've long forgotten after Meyers fried your brain."A warm tingle broke out along my neck and shoulders and I looked down to find Jary's index finger running along the inner edge of my shirt collar. When I rocked back as if struck, he didn't pursue but his voice went wistful. "For the past nine years, I've worked on building Dark Turnabout in the hopes that it will restore your memory and your...potential."

I sat back into the nearest pod to avoid crumpling to the floor. The previous evening's nightmare flashed to mind again. Jary's sardonic cadence, his towering figure shrouded in the dark corner of my room. The image had more of the energy of synchronicity than coincidence. Was the darkness hiding his features the shadow of my subconscious stirring me to remember him? Had he really been someone important to me? "What were you to me before I was turned into the institute?"

Jary crouched close, still tall enough that he looked down at me intensely. He clutched my hand with both of his and this time I didn't pull away. "I was your servant."

It was difficult to tell when he was being literal or figurative. I was afraid he might chuckle and further disrupt my sense of composure if I were to attempt to clarify whether he had been suited up like a penguin and employed by Irene. "I don't understand."

"We met when you needed me to take care of a problem you weren't ready to cope with. I wouldn't describe our exchange then as amicable to the naked eye, but that was only because I knew you needed me to take on the ugly nature of the task and remove you from any need for shame. Wouldn't you agree that's generous?"

There was an undeniable force between us from the moment we had met in his office. That alone implied history and his delicate, long hands felt right wrapped around mine, but he was speaking in more generalities and sleeved reveals. I couldn't trust him. "You're certainly not being generous with the details. What problem would I have had at fifteen that I would have needed a grown man to help me?"

Jary sucked in his cheeks, and color rose there that on any other man would have been unflattering. "My aim here is to repair your memory, not damage your psyche in the process. If I seem stealthy, it's only because I want to proceed with caution. I would love nothing more than to spill everything and be united once again in mutual understanding, but I fear that overwhelming you with the darker aspects of the past might send you into a state even I wouldn't be able to pull you out of." His brows drew together in an agonized expression and his hold on my hand tightened. "What I can tell you with complete, raw honesty is that everything I've done, I've done for you and there's nothing you could ask of me now or in the future that I would hesitate to perform."

My heart froze, then pounded, making my breath stall. The neon lights in my pod chair glared into a haze. The intensity of his stare, the way he couldn't seem to keep his hands off me for very long, and now the debasing declaration. He loved me. He loved me and I had no idea why or what I had ever done to earn it. All I knew was that the euphoria spiking in my veins was not a reciprocation of affection but an exceptional realization of power. "You'll do anything I ask?"

Jary inclined his blond head in a bow.

My mind whirled for possibilities. There were the humbling, trivial tests of will they did in all the cliche examples like asking someone to bark like a dog, but I wanted impact. I wanted a souvenir of change to keep with me if none of this worked out. "Call Dr. Meyers right now and enlighten him that he's a vapid, callous, ineffectual, waste of space geezer and that the psychology industry and local community will be all the better once he finally croaks."

I expected a flinch, perhaps a disbelieving snort to top it off. Instead, Jary's golden brows flashed up and held. When his cell phone was whipped out of his back pocket and flashing a dial, his eyes didn't leave mine.

"Hello, could you please transfer me to Dr. Meyers? This is Jary King of Labyrinth Games Co. speaking. Yes, that Jary King. Haha! Oh, you're too kind, dearie. Uh-huh...that's right. Well, that's Mondays for you. Uh-huh...Yes, I can hold."

I had to stifle a chuckle at the stark contrast between the affected, professional tone of voice and the irreverent signaling he threw into his bearing. A perfectly timed eye roll here, a slow jack off motion there.

The beauty of the next decision he made couldn't be discounted for its simplicity. He was hitting the right notes about his lack of credit with me. The speakerphone was switched on in time with Dr. Meyer's voice shuffling onto the line and I didn't have to wonder or doubt.

"Hello?"

"Meyers!" Jary's grin as he sprinkled charismatic zeal into the greeting was anything but good-natured. "This is Jary King."

"It's always a pleasure to hear from Amherst Institute's number one community supporter this year. What can I do for you, Mr. King?"

Jary's eyes squinted with a twinkle of mischief and my chest tightened. A part of me wondered if I would regret the savagery while a dark whisper below laughed. Dr. Meyers ruined the brains of unruly "clients" that couldn't be easily categorized into his system of holistic therapy or neutralized with pills. He took grant money and lined his pockets before doing any real good for the institution or overworked staff. He sold me out to Jary King because the price was right. There was plenty to argue on his deserving comeuppance, and yet meeting the prospect of that head-on was scary.

"You can get started on your formal letter of resignation."

My mouth dropped open and I silently mouthed What? Jary just winked.

There was a brief pause before Meyers forced a laugh. "Ha! I've been trying to retire for years. My wife has plenty of honey-do-lists but can't seem to break the habit. " Jary's amiable tone hadn't shifted, so Meyers had every reason to think this was a sparring joke between associates. I was having trouble believing it myself. I hadn't said to push Meyers to resign. Jary was already getting interpretive with my request.

"Every day is a chance for a fresh start, doctor. I have complete faith you can cut the shallow ties to preserve the thirty plus years of reputation and professional press you've cultivated."

Meyer's next pregnant pause didn't end in a laugh. "What is this? I think we're getting our wires crossed on the punchline, Jary."

"Your name will be a punchline by tomorrow morning if you don't heed what I'm spelling out for you, Meyers. I've got personal copies of records documenting every pill dispensed, every client registered and released. I have checking account receipts of how much of my money and past grant project funds you've stripped off for your wallet and I've got a recording of your agreement to my wildly questionable intent to have Sarah Williams released on a flimsy career skills construct. I also feel I would be impressionable support to Sarah's testimony in court of your...shall we call it 'advanced treatment' to her resistant behavior and the amnesiac repercussions thereafter?"

I couldn't help it if an incredulous look swirled into my watch. Putting aside what I had shared with him myself if Jary was speaking out of his ass on the claims of documented evidence and record-keeping, he was certainly a good actor.

"Why are you doing this?" Myer's voice took a turn for the feverish. "I-I thought we had an understanding."

"Oh, we do, doctor. We do. I'm quite obliged to your oily ethics and shifty nature. You played right into my carefully laid plans and gave me Sarah without a hitch, but now our association cramps my style, and I'm ready to have us both take the high road. You get to keep your misplaced pride in your name attached to the institute, your positive colleague relationships, and the ability to hold your hair plugged, facelifted head high at the country club luncheons. All you have to do is retire permanently and stay away from Sarah Williams."

"Jesus." Myers let out a forceful breath over the phone and I could picture the intense, cold stare he must have made at his reflection in the framed counselor of the year award on his desk. Any vacillating disbelief, hurt, or rage he must be feeling would be a start for the compensation he owed me. "I don't...I'm not sure that I-"

Jareth's smile and patience shrank as he interrupted. "Pardon me if I in any way implied what I'm demanding is open for discussion. You will 'Bcc:' me in your official resignation email to the institute board and staff with a pdf copy attached for print purposes within twenty-four hours, or I will make scorched earth of your life. This is the only notice you will get. I don't do second chances or delays."

Jareth terminated the call with a swipe of his thumb before Myer's could blunder a response, and a satisfied smile plastered across his face. "Well?"

It was difficult to find the right words with the sound of blood rushing in my ears. I had the oddest impulse to run and dance and laugh. Myers would be effectively cleansed from the mental health community. The pompous debasement of his scrutiny brought low, his framed accomplishments packed away. Revenge that had been fantasy days ago, hours ago, was wrangled in a phone call that couldn't have lasted more than a few minutes.

"I can't believe it." My hand jerked to my temple. "Do you think he'll do it?"

"He must. He will. One way or another."Jary's eyes thinned as his smile grew and he bowed low before me. "At your service."

I shifted my attention to the floor and stiffened my posture. "You've more than proven your claim."

"Have I indeed?" Jary's fingers were soft and tender as they lifted my chin back to face him. "The best is yet to come, Sarah. Dark Turnabout awaits."

My intake of breath was deep. "You said there was a precautionary measure to be taken first."

The way Jary's eyes dropped from mine to roam over my body was unsettling. "Just the one. A sample of your DNA."

Suddenly, I found myself being thrust toward one of the oversized monitors against the north wall. Between multiple flashing keypads and colored buttons, a gleaming silver needlepoint lanced through a transparent plastic shell.

"If you'll please prick either one of your index fingers on it, my input surveillance will be able to develop a profile. For maximum safe immersion, my program needs a snapshot of your resting blood pressure, ph balance, electrolytes, and heart rhythm."

It made sense. High-stress illusions could potentially cause the same kind of bodily inflammation and stress as the real thing. My hand hovered over the point. "How much pressure exactly?" It wasn't that I hadn't had my fair share of needles at the institute, but I wasn't eager to jab myself raw either. Shallow cuts stung the worst.

His breath was warm on the back of my neck and I could feel the solidarity of his chest behind me as it rose and fell. "Only enough to break the skin. You don't have to hold it there either. My system can pick up a reading in seconds from a microscopic blood or skin cell."

Closing my eyes, I swabbed my right index over the tip at an angle. As soon as I felt the sharp summit catch under my skin, I pulled back. It didn't hurt or swell, but a small bead of crimson started.

Jary gently turned me around and grappled my hand up to his face for inspection, and I imagined the most he might do was swap a bit of disinfectant or comment on whether I had gone deep enough for the reading. What I hadn't expected was him to slip the bleeding fingertip into his mouth. Wide-eyed, I witnessed his lips contract around it with slow relish, felt his wet tongue flick over the sensitive cut until I was tempted to shudder from the mix of discomfort and sensitivity. I didn't dare meet his eyes to know whether they closed or watched me and when he released it seconds later, he thankfully filled any silence that might have settled in after it.

"As I expected, you barely broke the skin. You're more than welcome to start now if you feel up to it."

"I'm ready."

Jary helped me adjust the heavy eyewear that hung from one of the egg pods and I sat back and waited for him to settle into the neighboring pod. A tiny white dot in the dark was all that I could see with the ridiculous goggles on. No better than sunglasses worn indoors.

There was a click from Jary's pod. "On the count of three, you and I will be locked into an immersive session. I don't want to give you any more reason to hesitate, but I feel I should warn you that It can be a bit overwhelming the first time."

"I think I can handle it." It couldn't be any more upsetting than any of the real-world revelations I'd had to face so far that day.

"Three…" The white dot at the apex of the two lenses appeared to expand. Was that part of the illusion or..?

"Two…" The dot expanded to take up the entirety of my lens and took on a blinding glare.

"One…" The white light shattered like a window and a swirling tunnel of every kind of color was brought forward. The colors were around me, through me, in me, and I was falling and swirling with the mass of them, every part of me released from earth and gravity as I knew it.