Disclaimer: Labyrinth does not belong to me. I have a strong suspicion that it never will. It belongs to Jim Henson, George Lucas, Brian Froud, David Bowie, etc.

Author's Note: I know I left you hanging with the cliffhanger but I couldn't resist. Thank you so much for the lovely reviews, they are greatly appreciated. I'm so glad that the story is enjoyable so far! Here's Chapter 2.

Chapter 2

"Reacquainted"

"Oh my God, oh my God," Sarah mumbled.

It had taken a moment to regain her sanity as she stood and stared open-mouthed at the beautiful, broken creature on her floor. Her mind ricocheted in panic as she tried to think of something, anything, to do. After a moment, Sarah realized that there was just one option.

The moment she had emerged from her stupor, she had lifted up the Goblin King, careful not to touch his bloody side, and draped his arms over her shoulders. He was heavier than she had expected and dragging him to the bathroom was proving to be a challenging task. As she finally got him down the hall and into the small room, Sarah was sure to check the carpet for bloodstains. Thankfully there were none.

Now what? Sarah asked herself, I could wake up my parents, I could wake up Derrick. But those thoughts felt traitorous. Out of everyone in this house, she was the only one who knew anything about the Goblin King and his eyes had held so much when he asked her for help.

Standing inside the sanctuary of the bathroom, Sarah was sure that her heartbeat alone would wake up the rest of the house. I'm not a doctor, I don't know what I'm doing, she thought to herself in a panic and bit down on her lip.

Thinking quickly, Sarah deposited him in the bathtub, leaning against the wall, opposite the shower head. At least now he was in a sitting position, however slumped against the tiled wall. This way she could rinse any blood down the drain. Now, to clean his injuries. Sarah approached him carefully, sitting on the edge of the tub and leaning in, moving as cautiously as if he were a wounded wild animal. She pulled off his gloves first and set them on the counter, surprising herself with how intimate the act seemed. His bare hands were long fingered and pale. Sarah only studied them for a moment before she reached out and un-tucked his shirt with shaking hands, undoing the buttons as she went. She stifled a laugh, What if he wakes up and thinks I'm a pervert? As if on cue, the Goblin King stirred slightly, making a small noise of protest and pain. Sarah let out a small hiss as she finally removed it, pulling the soft fabric from where it had stuck to his torso and leaving the bloody shirt in the tub for easy cleanup. His flawless skin was blemished by fresh, ugly bruises, a nasty one, still brilliantly red, kissed the flesh of his abdomen. Small cuts, flesh wounds from what Sarah feared were terrible claws, marked his face and body. The worst of the injuries was a long, deep slash marring perfect marble skin. It did not escape her attention that his body was beautiful, lean and lithe. She banished the thoughts from her head. Sarah studied the pendant that rested on his breast bone, perhaps she should remove that too. The moment her hand touched it, a strange, but pleasantly aching, ripple passed through her fingers and she drew back with a jolt. I guess the pendant stays, she thought.

"Goblin King?" she whispered. He didn't move, for a moment Sarah's breath caught. She glanced down at his bare chest which rose and fell slowly. He was still breathing, he was still alive. She leaned in closer, trembling. "Jareth," she added tentatively in his ear.

He shifted at the flutter of her breath on his skin, an agonizing hiss of pain escaping him.

"Shhh," she soothed, an automatic reaction, and prayed that he would be quiet, but glad he was awake.

Sarah stood and rummaged through the medical cabinet, grabbing some gauze and a container of alcohol along with a small towel which she soaked in warm water from the sink. She set her supplies on the edge of the bathtub and knelt so that only the short side of the tub separated her from the Goblin King.

"This is going to hurt, try to be as quiet as possible," she whispered in his ear, noting his shudder as her lower lip accidentally grazed his skin.

She decided to do the small cuts first, perhaps wake him up a little. How is this happening right now? Sarah thought. With a shaking hand, she pushed his hair away from his forehead. He leaned into her touch in his delirium, almost like a cat. As surreal as the moment was, Sarah could not help but smile. She touched the towel to a miniscule cut on his forehead, cleaning off any bloodstains and proceeding to the rest of the tiny nicks and scrapes on his face, arms, and chest.

He sighed while she worked, surprising her. Sarah almost stopped. This is crazy, she thought to herself. Everything felt like a dream. I am not cleaning up an injured Goblin King in my bathroom, she thought, this just can't be real. After finishing all of the smallest injuries, Sarah soaked and wrung out the towel once more, sending red tinted water swirling down the sink.

Now she was running into a problem, the deep slash on Jareth's side. It was an ugly thing, clotted and sullied by dirt and what looked like bits of leaves, perhaps from when he was flying through trees in his owl form. The blood from the wound had streaked and stained his side. No matter how much she tried, Sarah could not get a good angle on it.

"Jareth," she said. "I'm going to lift you up now, okay?"

He made a small noise of agreement and struggled to help her as best he could when she grasped him under his arms and hoisted him up. He coughed with the effort and fell forward slightly, catching himself on his hands against the opposite wall, trapping Sarah between his body and the shower head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in a hoarse, hollow way.

"Don't be," she said, shaking her head, hoping that he did not hear the pity in her voice. Jareth didn't seem like someone who would take to pity well. She closed the distance between them slightly, wrapping an arm around his good side so that he could lean against her. "Here, now take a step up."

Jareth followed her out of the tub. Sarah did her best to seat him on the closed lid of the toilet. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily, it terrified her. What did this to him? she thought, What could do this to someone so powerful? The thought made her break out in goosepimples. Sarah turned to the mediocre medical supplies that now rested on the counter and winced, wishing she had better treatment.

"Okay, this is going to hurt. A lot," Sarah said. "Please, Jareth, try to be as quiet as possible."

"Of course, Sarah," he whispered.

Her heart jumped to her throat and began hammering away. The sound of her name on his lips was as terrifying and exhilarating as it had been when she was fifteen. She let out a shaky breath and touched the towel to the slash on his side. He took a sharp breath and jerked away so violently that Sarah had to lurch forward and grab him to keep him from falling sideways. Jareth's head lolled on her shoulder, his feathery hair tickling her cheek. Sarah tried to ignore the very real body pressed against her. You got over that infatuation in a snap when you were a teenager, she thought angrily to herself, unable to believe that those long ago feelings were threatening her now.

Gently, she pushed Jareth back into his sitting position. "Here," she said and placed his hand on her left forearm. "Squeeze if it hurts."

He nodded and swallowed, eyes still shut. Ever so slowly, Sarah reapplied the towel to the gash. Jareth sucked in a breath and squeezed her arm, tight. Sarah whimpered in pain, his fingers could crush a bone, but kept going. Whatever pain she was in was nothing compared to his. It only took a few more agonizing minutes to clean the cut out completely and apply antiseptic and gauze. Sarah drew back, shaking heavily, and admired her handiwork. She was no doctor, but he looked better than when he arrived. She had even gotten the matted blood from his pale hair.

Sarah took a few more moments to drain the tub and grab his shirt and gloves before leaning his good side on her and helping him back to her bedroom. She dumped him a bit unceremoniously on her bed, he groaned softly, but still said nothing since his last whisper in the bathroom.

She sat down heavily on the floor beside her bed and rested her back against the mattress.

"Okay, just stay calm," she told herself in a fierce whisper. "There is a half-naked Goblin King on your bed, but that's okay, it's all going to be okay. Dad won't find out, Karen won't find out, Toby won't, Derrick won't…"

Sarah continued to mumble to herself, suddenly aware of how exhausted she was. Her eyes were heavy with the promise of sleep. Despite her best efforts to stay awake, Sarah felt her eyes shut and her head loll to the side. She fell into a deep and uneasy sleep, dreaming about Goblin Kings and bloody wounds.

Sarah stirred, something was brushing her face. She moved her hand to swat it away and met the solid weight of warm fingers. Her eyes shot open. Jareth's arm dangled from the side of her bed, his fingertips lightly touching her cheek. She crawled away from the unwanted contact as best she could and stood up, her fingers tangling through her sleep-mussed hair. Her alarm clock read 5:30 am. Good, no one else in the family would be awake.

Sarah stood beside the Goblin King, who was breathing gently and lying on his stomach. Jareth looked much more innocent in slumber, still terribly dangerous, but the way that a sleeping lion does, powerful, adorable, and almost loveable. Shaking the strange thought from her mind, Sarah bent down, her face beside his.

"Jareth?"

Sarah repeated his name and this time gave his bare shoulder a gentle squeeze. He moved slightly and made a contented sound in the back of his throat at the contact. She pulled back, his skin was warm and very much alive, almost too real for her to believe. She could see him frown slightly as her hand left his shoulder and he rolled over onto his back. Sarah was shocked anew by the sight of his face lit by the earliest suggestions of sunrise in her bedroom at 5:30 in the morning. Last night felt like a dream, a warped and unsettling dream, this reminder of reality was somewhat jarring.

"I'm going to get you something to eat," she said, slightly louder. "Come on, please wake up Jareth."

Unable to help herself, Sarah pushed his mussed hair back from his face, the way she always did with Toby when he was sick, and left the room quietly. The house was quiet, peaceful. There was no one up but her. Sarah moved as if dreaming, finding her way to the kitchen and making some coffee for both she and Jareth. She took two apples from the crisper and some sticky pre-packaged cinnamon rolls from where Karen prepared Toby's school lunches. She tiptoed quietly back up the stairs with the small breakfast on one of Karen's floral tea trays. Sarah opened the door and jumped, sloshing the coffee on the tray.

Jareth sat in her windowsill, still shirtless, but with her blue blanket slung around his shoulders carelessly, one knee up and the other long leg stretched out before him.

He smirked at her reaction to his wakefulness and drawled, "Good morning to you too."

Sarah couldn't help it, she glared at him fiercely and opened her mouth, but no words came out. She sank to the ground, setting the tray on the floor beside her, buried her face in her hands and moaned.

"This can't be happening," she whispered. It was too much seeing him there, his eyes alive and mocking her with their icy fire. He looked like a fallen angel in the gentle lavender morning light, wrapped in blue, with peeks of his pale, toned skin showing. Stupid hormones, stupid Goblin Kings, Sarah thought angrily, her fingers digging into her dark hair.

"I assure you, precious, this is all very real," he said, gazing out the window.

Sarah detected a sure bite in his voice and narrowed her eyes at him, but suppressed her anger. "First things first, now that you're awake you need to eat. You've lost a lot of blood. You do eat, don't you?"

He looked a bit taken aback by her reaction and ignored her question. "My, my, Sarah, I was expecting a far less caring response. How very sweet."

"I can assure you I am not being sweet," Sarah said as she pushed herself off the ground, tray in hand, and made her way over to him, "But, there's no reason to yell at you when you're at risk of passing out. But don't worry. I'll certainly get around to it later."

Jareth took an apple and bit into it wordlessly, his eyes dancing with silent laughter. Sarah shivered a bit at the sight of his pointed teeth tearing the delicate flesh of the fruit. She reached for her half spilled coffee and drained it in just a few short gulps. Jareth stared at his own cup and sniffed the contents before sipping it. He grimaced.

"What is this?" he said, peering into the cup in disgust.

Sarah couldn't help it, she laughed. "It's black coffee."

"Well, it is repulsive," he said, wrinkling his nose.

She laughed again, unable to help it and feeling rather hysterical from shock and lack of sleep. How long had it been since she convinced herself that it had all been just a dream? Now look at her, the author of historical fiction, fiancé to a business consultant, eating breakfast with the Goblin King who, at that moment, was turning the still wrapped cinnamon roll over in his hands and studying it as though the pastry were very difficult crossword puzzle.

"Here," Sarah said and took a cellophane packaged cinnamon roll from Jareth's hands. She unwrapped it and handed it back as he stared on, inquisitive. "Dunk it in the coffee, it's good."

"Whatever you say, precious," he answered and tore a chunk off, following her words. Sarah smiled at the delicate way he chewed it. "It is far more tolerable this way."

As Jareth finished up his roll, Sarah sat down heavily on her bed, studying him. He was beautiful when broken, she could not help but notice the way that he favored his good side, winced at the bruises on his back, and avoided touching the small cuts on his face.

When she saw for sure that he was done eating, Sarah cleared her throat. "So, Goblin King," she began.

"Jareth," he corrected. "Not even my own subjects address me as Goblin King. You, the Champion of my Labyrinth, most certainly don't have to."

"Fine then, Jareth," Sarah continued. "What happened? How did you end up here?"

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and for a moment Sarah thought he might faint. It was surreal, sitting cross-legged on her fluffy, princess bed, with the object of her teenage sexual frustration lounging in the window.

"I don't know how to start," he said so quietly, she almost didn't hear him.

"Try?" Sarah suggested in a gentle whisper, but Jareth seemed lost to her. He stared out the window, watching the Aboveground awaken before him.

His expression was painful to behold as sunrise washed over him, as if he had lost everything and there was no possible way to get it back. Sarah slid off her bed and walked over to him, her own breakfast lay forgotten on the tray. An indescribable urge, a mix of the sympathetic, the maternal, and a third feeling that she dare not name, rose within her and propelled her forward. It must have shown on her face for his eyes widened at her approach. She stopped in front of him and stared down at his angelic features.

"Sarah," Jareth whispered her name with such emotion that she felt the sting of tears threaten to overwhelm her. No one had ever said her name like that before. What are you doing to me? she thought and tilted her head to study the insufferable creature that sat before her.

For a moment, it was as if she was watching the scene from far away. Sarah reached out a tentative hand and touched his cheek, laying her palm flat against the sharp angles of his face, savoring his velvet skin and brushing her thumb in a soothing motion over his cheekbone. Jareth leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, an expression of undeniable longing on his face. Sarah breathed sharply in shock and drew her hand back. It's not possible, she thought.

Before Jareth could react, there was a knock on her door.

"Baby, are you up?"

"Oh, shit, it's Derrick. Hide!" Sarah said in a sharp urgent whisper and grabbed his hand. Jareth followed her as best he could with his injuries. She stopped in front of her closet, opened the door, and half pushed him inside.

"Derrick?" Jareth asked sourly with an unmistakable hint of jealousy in his voice. Sarah gave him one last pleading look and shut the closet just as her bedroom door opened.

Sarah whipped around. Her fiancé stood before her, still in his pajamas, his dark hair rumpled from sleep.

"Morning," he said and walked over to her, sliding his arms around her waist.

"Morning," Sarah replied and kissed the tip of his nose, hoping that he couldn't detect the fine note of panic in her voice. "Derrick, what are you doing in here?"

"I just wanted to say good morning," he said and kissed her. Derrick walked her backwards to her bed and sat, pulling Sarah along so that she straddled his waist. "I must admit that I did have a bit of a more selfish intention…" he whispered, kissing her neck audibly.

An angry snort came from the general direction of her closet. Sarah tried to cover it with a cough. Derrick still heard and turned his face away from her neck, frowning. Oh shit, Sarah thought. She wound her fingers in Derrick's hair and kissed him, pushing him down onto his back.

Her distraction worked, Derrick moaned as her tongue invaded his mouth. Unfortunately, that warranted the sound of a box falling and crashing.

"What the…?" Derrick said sluggishly.

"Toby," Sarah said, thinking quickly. "He's up."

Derrick's eyebrows narrowed. "Are you sure? That sounded like it came from your—,"

Sarah kissed him again and said huskily, "Can we continue this later? I think my parents are awake."

Derrick grinned and rolled her off of him, "Definitely."

After one final kiss, Derrick was gone. As the door clicked shut behind him, Sarah sighed in relief. Now to attend to the very crotchety Goblin King in her closet.

He had pulled a box of old toys down on his head in frustration and now sat on the floor looking haughty, annoyed, and vaguely stunned. The plastic foot of a My Little Pony tangled in his wild hair. Sarah laughed, she couldn't help it.

"Never again, precious," Jareth said, brushing himself off and flicking the poor pony aside. He stood up as best he could and strode out of the tiny closet with more dignity than Sarah thought possible, casually tossing the dusty blanket from around his shoulders to the floor.

"Sarah, is that you dear?" Karen's voice called out. Sarah groaned as she saw her doorknob jiggle.

"Back inside," Sarah said, blocking Jareth from walking any further, her hands pressed to the bare skin of his chest. She pushed him backward and into the closet. To her utter shock and secret delight, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her in behind him as she shut the door.

It was utter blackness and Sarah could feel the arm of a long forgotten Barbie doll poking into the arch of her foot. The plastic digging into her skin barely even registered as Sarah realized her position. Her closet was only about a square foot of space, leaving nothing, not even an inch of air, between her body and Jareth's. She couldn't see anything, but she could feel everything. The hard muscle of his chest and arms over the sharp bones of his lean frame, the warmth of him, the soft fabric of the little clothing he wore, and the sharpness of his pendant through her shirt were all she could sense in the darkness. The scent of him was in her nose, something made purely of magic, sweet and heady. Sarah breathed it in deeply, trying to ignore the fluttering in her stomach that occurred each time his bare skin brushed against hers. Despite Karen just outside the door, Sarah felt herself naturally angle toward Jareth, practically resting against him. She almost missed the soft noise of satisfaction he made in the back of his throat. The small part of her brain that was still ruled by her teenage self danced with joy at the sound of it.

"Sarah?" Karen asked again. After what felt like an eternity, the sound of her footsteps and the door clicking shut made it clear that Karen was gone.

Sarah still did not move, she was enjoying this new position all too much.

"Sarah?" Jareth's whisper was warm and right in her ear. Sarah jumped at the feeling of his lips on her skin, her heart hammering away. "I think she's gone now."

Reluctantly, Sarah opened the door and saw that her room was vacant and quiet once more. She sat down heavily on the bed, shaking a bit, feeling immense guilt sweep through her. Oh my God, she thought, how could I have enjoyed that? What about Derrick? She sighed and dropped her head into her hands, massaging her scalp and trying to understand what had just transpired.

"Sarah?" Jareth said tentatively, now leaning casually in the door frame. Though he looked as if he had been ready to laugh at her and tease her for her closeness, there was genuine concern on his face as he eyed Sarah, shaking on the bed.

"Listen, Jareth. It's my dad and stepmother's anniversary party tonight; my entire family and then some will be around today. I need to know what's happening, and I need to know it soon," she said.

He nodded and crossed over, back to his former perch on her windowsill. Although he hunched over brokenly with his slashed side, Sarah had to stifle another stomach flipping sigh at the sight of him.

"As I said, I don't know quite where to begin," he drawled, propping an arm on one bent knee, the other leg stretching for a mile before him. "I suppose that, to put it simply, I was in a bit of a fight. I was almost totally drained by my opponent. I used up my last bit of magical energy to fling myself away from my adversary and into your realm."

Sarah's eyes widened, "So, are you saying that—,"

"I cannot use magic," Jareth answered, his expression unreadable, "at least, not very much for the time being. I certainly couldn't last night. Very soon I shall have rested up and regained my energy. It won't be long now, I can already feel it returning."

As if to prove his words, Jareth conjured a minute crystal, barely the size of a large marble. He twirled it between his fingers for a few moments before breathing on it. A stunning orange and black butterfly materialized. He opened Sarah's window and let it out.

"So last night, you couldn't…use magic?" Sarah asked faintly, feeling both silly and strange as she said the words. It had been years since she even entertained the idea that magic may be real, now she was speaking about it in polite conversation with perhaps the most magical being in existence.

"No, I could not," he answered.

Sarah frowned and thought for a moment. "You said that you just flung yourself Aboveground. How did you end up at my house?"

Jareth opened his mouth to speak when the sound of the doorbell permeated the air. The joyful cries of names and greetings came soon after.

"My family's arriving," Sarah said softly. She stood and walked to where he sat at the window. "Are you going to be able to hide up here until the party is over? I'll be up when I can to help with the bandages."

Jareth met her eyes and she was startled by the intensity of their uneven pupils. His mouth turned up into a sardonic smile, "For you, precious? Anything."

Sarah rolled her eyes at his sarcastic tone but smiled nonetheless. "Now get in bed, you need some rest."

He quirked an eyebrow and stood. Though he winced for a moment at the pain, he walked over and lay on her bed with a visible shudder as his injuries brushed the fabric of her comforter.

"Are you going to be all right?" Sarah asked. It was unsettling to see someone so sure of himself, so untouchable, in pain like that.

She still stood a safe distance away, not trusting herself to resist the urge to crawl in bed with him and try to sleep some more after the night of confusion and sleeplessness. But that thought was ridiculous, guilt inducing, and all too tempting to be a good idea.

Jareth met her eyes and gave a small nod. "Yes, go enjoy your party Sarah."

Sarah nodded and went to her closet to retrieve the pale green sundress and high-heeled sandals that she had bought for the anniversary. After one lingering glance at Jareth, Sarah left to rejoin reality.