"Dammit, Sarah, I can feel your eyes on me."
Sarah jumped, almost dropping the dish and towel that she held. When she finished drying it she placed it carefully in an upper cabinet, as always aware of the fact that Mari and Sammy were sleeping nearby.
"Sorry. I'll, uh, go check on the kids."
Lori didn't look up from her position on the couch, pages of Jareth's revised script resting on her lap, her expression as usual unreadable. "Just go hang out in Nick's office, the kids are fine."
Sarah set a dish quietly in the drying rack and glanced at the clock—almost ten pm. Miguel had said he'd be rehearsing until nine, but things sometimes ran late.
She headed down the hallway to Nick's small office (which these days was doubling as a storage space for all sorts of medical equipment), but she paused when she noticed that the door to the children's bedroom slightly ajar. She opened it very gently…
…to see Sammy sleeping peacefully next to an empty twin bed.
Sarah stifled a scream, doing a quick search around the room to determine that no, Marisol wasn't under the bed or balled up under the covers. She gently pulled the door closed.
"It's fine. It's fine. You've been here all evening, there's nowhere she could have—"
You know exactly where she could have gone.
"No, no, no," Sarah whispered to herself as she moved quickly toward the master bedroom, "nobody's wished for anything around here, Miguel knows better, he would never—"
She opened the master bedroom door quietly to see Nick propped up in his rented hospital bed, reading a book by faint lamplight. Marisol was curled up asleep next to him.
"Sarah?" Nick's drawn face looked worried. "Is everything okay?"
Sarah forced herself to smile. "Yeah. Sorry, I—I went into their bedroom and Mari wasn't there, and I freaked out for a second."
Nick smiled. "They do know how to give people panic attacks, these two."
Sarah glanced between Nick and Marisol. "Is she—okay there? Should I take her back to her room?"
"No, she…" Sarah could tell he was trying to make light of something that wasn't light at all. "People say they're both too young to understand most of it, but I think Mari understands more. Sometimes she wakes up afraid because she thinks I'm gone, and she won't go back to sleep unless she's with me."
When Sarah didn't speak, Nick glanced back at his book. "Sorry, I know the grim talk is a little weird, it's sort of an everyday thing around here."
"No, it's not weird, it's…all right, it's weird, but Miguel and I work in theater, we're used to weird."
Nick chuckled. When Sarah turned to leave, he made an awkward gesture with his hand.
"Just…stay a little?"
She looked at him quizzically. "Uh…sure."
He kept his voice low to avoid waking Mari, though there didn't seem to be any danger of that. "I've barely left this apartment in ages, and when visitors come they tend to look at me with very concerned eyes." He grimaced. "Just…talk to me for five minutes about something that isn't my fucking condition."
Sarah gasped. "That…that is the first time I've heard you swear."
Nick smiled. "I'm full of surprises these days."
Sarah sat in the chair next to the bed. She realized, not for the first time, that she'd never had a conversation with Nick that lasted more than five minutes. She'd never even been alone with him.
Looking at him now, it wasn't just that his physical self was different. The old Nick had been reserved, careful, cautious where Miguel just said whatever came into his mind. New Nick seemed to mince words less.
She suddenly felt bad that she'd insulted his poetry in front of Jareth, even if she'd been drunk.
She smiled. "Wanna hear about my screwed up love life?"
"Dear God yes."
She took a deep breath. "How much has Miguel told you about Jareth?"
Nick idly stroked Mari's hair. "Enough to know that I shouldn't go casually wishing my children away when I'm feeling frustrated. Also that you've been sleeping with him off and on for a few years."
Sarah stifled a laugh. "Yeah, well…I sort of told him I loved him a few nights ago."
Nick's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Yeah, but it was an accident—I was a little drunk, okay, a lot drunk, and I meant to say I love it, like, this thing that he does, but then I said I love you instead, and he sort of looked horrified, or he might have been overjoyed, I couldn't tell, but then I didn't know if I should take it back, so we just didn't talk about it, but now I'm worried that I've broken some sort of unwritten rule, and I don't know what to—"
"Do you love him?"
Nick's voice snapped Sarah out of her reverie. "What?"
"Do you love him, yes or no?"
Sarah thought of all the equivocating she'd done over the past few years, the long list of reasons that she'd given to herself and to Miguel for why she shouldn't love Jareth. She thought of moments when his eyes had looked less than human. She thought of the nagging questions about certain wished-away children she didn't want to ask. She thought of the new, very possible horror of having to introduce him to her parents.
And then she remembered running across rocky landscapes with him as some sort of monstrous creation from her mind pursued them, both of them cursing and out of breath but laughing at the same time. The way he'd looked at her with so much hunger the first time they'd had sex, and the way that hunger hadn't really abated. His hand squeezing hers on the way to the theater to see her play. And the way he'd looked at her afterward, and then again on that more recent night, and what he'd said about how her writing had made her extraordinary.
And she realized, of course, that should would never matter.
"Yeah." Her voice didn't falter. "I do."
Nick smiled and patted her hand. "Then for God's sake tell him that. Right now. Because he could get eaten by a dragon tomorrow, you never know."
Sarah felt a strange sense of clarity that had been lacking for the last several months. "That simple, huh?"
"Of course not. Nothing's ever that simple. But it's a good first step." His eyelids fluttered. "And now I'm kicking you out, because my sick self needs twice as much sleep as a normal human."
Sarah leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. "We should do this again."
"Only if you sneak me some booze."
Back in the living room, Miguel had come home and was sitting on the couch with Lori, the script positioned between them. Miguel looked at her with concern.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah, Mari's sleeping in the bedroom. He said she does that sometimes."
Miguel relaxed. "Yeah."
"Nick also asked me to sneak him some booze."
Miguel raised an eyebrow. "Nick doesn't have to deal with stern talking-to's from doctors and respite caregivers when they think I'm not taking care of him properly."
Sarah smiled and glanced between the two of them. "So…uh…"
"It's good," Lori said without preamble. "I want to direct it, if you don't have someone else in mind."
Sarah felt her heart lurch with a mixture of fear and joy. "Seriously?"
"You're shocked that I think it's good? Or that I want to direct it?"
"Both, honestly."
Lori laughed. "You shouldn't direct it, and you know why. I like it—it's weird, but it'll be something different for me. Flex the muscles a little. I'm guessing we'll need to wait a few months since I'm about to be very busy," she tapped her stomach, "but I can't see myself being out of commission for too long."
Sarah nodded. "I'll give you as much free babysitting as you need."
Miguel snorted. "Word's getting around, Sarah, you should probably stop making offers like that."
She smiled at him. "You wanna audition?"
"Of course I do." He glanced at Lori. "If, well…"
Lori rolled her eyes. "Anyone can audition, just don't think you'll be getting special treatment if you get cast."
"None at all." Miguel looked genuinely happier than Sarah had seen him look in a long time. "I'll expect to be abused regularly."
Sarah reached out to hug Miguel and was about to do the same with Lori before remembering that Lori was most definitely not a hugger, so she settled for a handshake. "Thank you," she said. "This is gonna be…kind of amazing."
Back home, she paced back and forth in her living room.
Visions of the play and the long process between now and opening night danced in her head. Some of them—Miguel maybe playing a lead role, Jareth being able to see something he'd made be appreciated by thousands of people—made her giddy. Some of them—Jareth having to collaborate with Lori, the logistics of managing his time in this world—made her wince.
And Nick's words kept echoing in her mind.
Nick would know a thing or two about not putting things off, she thought.
Sarah groaned. "What the hell do I say to him, though?"
How about just keeping it simple? "I said I loved you. I meant it?"
Sarah continued to pace. "Nothing is that simple."
No, it's not. But it's a start, just like Nick said. And I'd do it quickly if I were you, because you know you're going to lose your nerve.
Sarah blinked. "So…like, now? In the middle of the night?"
Night and day don't really exist in a normal way over there, you know.
"True." She felt her heart begin to pound and had the sensation of being on a roller coasting falling endlessly downward. Before she could argue a way out of it, she went into her bedroom and touched the mirror.
"Jareth?"
The mirror's surface flickered to life almost immediately, and she saw him standing in his bedroom, looking surprised.
And, she would remember later, uneasy.
"Sar—"
Her name was halfway out of his mouth before he flickered and vanished, leaving his bedroom empty.
"Jareth?"
Probably got summoned by someone wishing away their parakeet again. Best to leave this until—
"No." The vehemence in her own voice surprised her. "No, we're doing this now."
She leaped through the mirror.
Mirror lag had been getting shorter and shorter, she noticed, though it still took at least a minute for her to be able to move her limbs again. She glanced around the bedroom and noted that Jareth's copy of The Riverside Shakespeare was open to Othello and that there were more papers covered in delicate, looping script covering his desk—was he already starting on a new play? She sat on the edge of the bed. The goblins, she noticed, seemed to be livelier than usual a few doors down.
A few minutes later Jareth flickered back into the bedroom, flashing her his usual rakish smile. "Hello, precious," he said, kissing her. "Couldn't bear to be without me?"
She laughed, though she could still feel her heart pounding in her ears. "I…had some good news, actually. Couldn't wait to share."
He crossed his arms. "What sort of news?"
"Yeah, Lori, uh, wants to direct your play. She really likes it."
Jareth's face cycled through several emotions at once, eventually settling on a pure, open look of joy that melted Sarah's heart. "She likes it?"
"Yeah. Don't look so shocked, it's good."
"I'm not shocked. More…pleasantly surprised."
"Yeah, well, it's a long road between now and opening night, but—"
He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her and pressing her face into his chest. Caught off guard, she hugged him back.
Now or never.
She pulled back slightly and took a deep breath. "There was, uh, something else I needed to tell you. Something about the other night."
His expression was unreadable, which made her heart pound faster. "Oh?"
"Yeah, I…" Speak, girl, speak. "I said something, and I wanted you to know that—"
Sarah froze. Somewhere in the cacophony of noise echoing from the throne room, she'd heard a sound that didn't fit. She glanced toward the doorway and then back at Jareth.
The look on his face told her he'd heard it, too.
She cocked her head at him. "What was that?"
He shrugged, but she could see the tension in the set of his jaw. "Goblins being goblins."
Sarah shook her head. "No, it was—" She stared at him, remembering his expression when she'd first seen him through the mirror.
"Where were you just now?"
He cleared his throat. "Summoned away briefly, thankfully no runner on this occasion, just—"
The sound came again. There was no mistaking it this time.
She stared at him for a long time and wondered later if she had been wanting to savor that moment, that feeling of looking at him in a certain way and feeling certain feelings she might never feel again. She would remember the look on his face.
He seemed to be pleading with her.
She turned and ran out of the bedroom and toward the throne room.
He was right behind her. "Sarah—"
She ignored him and threw open the massive doors to the throne room, where the goblins were playing their usual senseless games, eating less-than-fresh food, and occasionally breaking into song.
In the middle of the throne room a baby was crying.
He looked so much like Toby, Sarah remembered later. Barely able to stand up. Thin wisps of yellow hair. Dressed in a somewhat ragged blue onesie. Crying in a way that seemed to indicate tiredness or frustration rather than genuine terror.
Instinctively, Sarah ran to the baby and picked him up. The child gripped the front of her shirt as she jogged him and smoothed his hair.
"Shhh, angel, it's okay, it's okay…"
She realized that the throne room had gone quiet. The goblins were all staring at her or at Jareth, or looking back and forth between the two of them. Jareth, for his part, was leaning against the entrance to the throne room, his gaze fixed on her.
Still carrying the baby, she quickly crossed the throne room toward him. "What's going on?" she said quietly.
He sighed. "You know what's going on, Sarah."
Sarah felt cold. "But who…when…"
"A girl wished him away. It's her son."
Sarah felt sick. "Her son? She wished—so she has thirteen hours, like I did?"
Jareth looked genuinely sad, though she couldn't be sure why. "No."
"No?" She felt suddenly indignant. "Why not, did the rules change?"
"No." She realized that she knew what he was going to say, and part of her wanted to stop him from saying it. His eyes never left hers.
"She didn't want him, Sarah. I gave her the chance to get him back, and she didn't take it."
"Didn't—" Sarah felt unsteady on her feet. "But why would she—"
"She looked very young. Maybe younger than you were, when we first met."
Sarah realized she was breathing faster and faster. "If she was that young…she couldn't know, she couldn't understand…"
Her feet moved faster than her mind could keep up, rushing past Jareth into the hallway and carrying the baby with her.
"Sarah!"
She reached the bedroom and looked at her reflection in the large mirror. This can be fixed. Whatever wrong might have been done, it's not too late to make it right.
She put one foot through the mirror.
"Sarah."
Jareth stood in the doorway, his face pale. He didn't move any closer to her, though.
She felt tears welling in her eyes & angrily shook them away. "Jareth, she couldn't have known, please…"
There was genuine pain on his face. Sarah gritted her teeth and stepped further through the mirror…
…only she couldn't.
Or rather, she could, but the baby made contact with the mirror as if it were solid glass. She stared at Jareth in horror.
He folded his arms. To his credit, she would remember later, there was no malice in his voice when he spoke.
"What's said is said."