A/N: Kind of just hit me. Then, of course, it needed to be written. And posted. And, hopefully, enjoyed.
To make it less confusing: It's been a few months since Sarah returned Aboveground, and she's be doing her darndest to forget Jareth and the rest of the Layrinth. Unfortunately, the Labyrinth is refusing to return the favor...
Fear. Twisting, writhing, wrapping dark tentacles around her heart. She shouldn't give in, she knows, but it is so hard to fight. And she is so tired already from hiding the effort. Why won't they leave her alone? Was she so important to them? To him?
Perhaps.
The voices mock her, and she makes a face at them, unable even to conjure up a retort. Not like they'd be able to hear her, anyway.
Fool. We can hear it all. Every wish, every dream, every stupid, irrational fear you've ever had.
And it always seems to come back to that. The fear. She is tired of fear. She is exhausted from fleeing her ghosts. But they haven't caught up with her yet, and she'll be damned before she lets them get ahold of her without a fight. But then, she probably already is. Damned. They're singing to her now, and not in a nice way. Their crooning brushes lightly over her mind, stinging like a paper cut. One voice, in particular, stands out. But then, his voice had always been exceptional.
Should it hurt to love you? Should I feel like I do? Should I…
So what? So what if she's wrong. They have no right to punish her for it. In this, they are as guilty as she. In this realm they have power. They whisper into her ears all the time now; growing braver and more daring each time she fails to block them out. Seducing, taunting, laughing. But if they are powerful, so is she.
Pitiful. You're a disappointment. Is this really all you can manage? To think I believed you might be fun to play with. We can break you in an instant.
No. You can't, she screams. You aren't really there. But they are, and they won't leave. Signs of her mental distress are leaking into the physical aspects of her life—she can see it in the dark circles under her eyes, in the crescent shaped scars on her palms from forcing herself to keep still in public. They delight in taunting her at all hours of the day, in the presence of others especially. She fears she is losing herself in this fight.
Why do you resist? You hurt only yourself, in the end.
They're being gentle now? She finds that difficult to believe, and shores up her defenses even more. He won't touch her here, in her domain. Because this is her territory, and she will not be beaten. Not now, and not by him. He alone speaks to her now, and the rest fade away until she can't hear them anymore.
What concern have I for territory? You certainly had no respect for mine.
He is bitter, and at last she begins to understand him, just a little bit. And she pities him for it. He doesn't want her pity.
That's right.
She can almost see him smiling dangerously through the mirror. Her heartbeat quickens. But as soon as the thought crosses her mind, the mirror once again reflects only her pale face.
I want all of you.
A piece of the puzzle falls into place, and some of the fear melts away. He won't damage her irreparably until he is sure he won't get her back again. That is a small reassurance, but a comfort nonetheless. Unwisely, he has left her some room to manuever. "I wish…"
The sudden silence in her mind is deafening. She can hear him catch his breath in anticipation.
She smiles slightly, sharing a secretive look with her reflection. Then she stands and turns away from the mirror, leaving the phrase unfinished. The voices howl in frustrated anger, but he is no longer among them so she has no difficulty in shutting them out now.
He will wait, biding his time, believing himself to be in control. And while he does, she will find a way to defeat him. Again.
The thought brings a dangerous smile to her lips as she exits the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.
Review if you want a continuation and a real story, complete with PLOT. Plots are nice. Sometimes. Will be Jareth/Sarah--no negotiation on that front.