Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth and probably never will. It is the property of Jim Henson, George Lucas, Brian Froud, David Bowie, etc.

"Changed"

"Sarah, Sarah wake up, come on baby, wake up." A voice was calling out to her from somewhere far away. Each syllable was an ominous echo in her ear, dragging her out of the shroud of sleep. Sarah writhed a bit on soft sheets, trying to escape from its jarring tone.

"Sarah, dear," another voice said in a warning tone that betrayed an inner frantic concern. "You're too old for this, please wake up."

"What are we going to do?" a third voice asked, this one maternal, soft, and laced with worry.

"Well, we can't just let her stay in bed," the first voice replied.

"Jareth?" Sarah breathed in a soft whisper, her eyes fluttering open to see three figures standing above her.

"Sarah, honey, are you all right?"the third voice asked. It was her stepmother Karen, her fear etched into every line on her face. Each figure swirled into view as Sarah's eyes adjusted to the light.

She was in her bed, Derrick, Karen, and Robert stood around her, staring down in concern. By the look of the dappled sunlight streaming through the window, it was late afternoon and overcast. Sarah sat straight up and immediately groaned. Her head was throbbing as if a mallet pounded her skull.

"What time is it?" she asked weakly, holding her head in her hands. She could feel every bad decision from the last two days. No sleep, strong coffee, too much to drink, and a crying jag had left her with one hell of a headache.

"Four o'clock in the afternoon," Derrick replied bitterly, looking exasperated.

"You had the door locked and it took us a very long time to get in, Sarah. Toby was scared to death, we had to send him over to Billy's house to distract him," her father scolded, running a hand over his already mussed hair. His voice dropped with anxiety. "We thought that something may have happened to you."

"I'm fine, daddy, I swear," she said and tried to stand up.

"Shhh," Karen soothed and made her sit. "Sarah, your eyes are all puffy. Were you crying?"

"No," Sarah said, shaking her head. A lump formed in her throat as the events of last night played in her head. Jareth was gone. The bizarre pain of it struck her all over again.

"Maybe you should stay in bed, just one more day," Karen said, looking her over with a critical eye. "You two could drive back tomorrow."

"No," Derrick interrupted, crossing his arms. "No, I have a very important meeting tomorrow. It can't be missed."

"Well, Derrick, maybe you could drive back and Sarah could stay with us for just a—,"

"No," Derrick said again, insistent. "It won't work. Sarah's meeting with the wedding planner on finishing details. It's her last chance before June."

Karen and Robert both looked like they wanted to say something. Sarah spoke up first, her empty voice foreign to her own ears. "He's right, I'll go back today. It's fine. I'm fine."

She didn't mention that staying in her bedroom was too much of a reminder of the Goblin King, whom they knew nothing about in any case. She couldn't tell them about the dull ache, like the sorrow of adolescent rejection, that had formed in her chest, making it harder to breathe when she thought of what she had given up. Sarah wasn't sure that she could take another minute, let alone another day in her room.

"If you're sure," her father began. Sarah knew he did not believe her.

"Honestly, dad," she said, "I'm all right. Now, all of you, please, just go, I need to change."

They filed out of the room silently, as if they knew that she did not want to speak. The moment they were gone, Sarah locked the door again behind them, the events of the previous night playing out in her mind. Did I make the wrong decision? Sarah thought to herself. She hadn't known it would hurt so badly, and why should it? Jareth had only come back into her life for a grand total of twenty-four hours, but Sarah could not deny that she had been irrevocably changed. Just like the first time, she thought.

She dressed quickly in a thin blousy shirt and jeans, not even bothering to take a shower or put on makeup. After packing all her things in a haphazard manner, Sarah ventured downstairs.

"Sarah!"

Sarah was almost knocked off her feet by Toby at the landing as he caught her in a tight hug.

"Hey, kiddo," she said and realized he was crying. Her ten-year old brother, who loved bugs and scooters and eating Skittles with his friends, who insisted that he not be treated like a baby anymore, was crying like he hadn't in years. Sarah dropped down to her knees to study him. "What's wrong, Tobes?"

"I thought that you were never going to wake up," Toby said, squeezing her tight once again.

"Hey, it's okay," she soothed and rocked him gently in the hug. "I'm okay."

His voice dropped to a low whisper in her ear, laced with terror, "I thought that shadow man got you."

Sarah immediately froze, her insides felt like ice and her heart pounded in her ears. She drew back slowly to study her stricken younger brother. "Toby, what are you talking about?"

Toby glanced around the landing, his eyes wide. This wasn't Toby just pulling a prank. The stark reality of a terrified child was undeniable and written all over his face. "I got up for water last night and saw a shadow man outside your bedroom."

Living shadows, Sarah's mind repeated Jareth's words and she shivered. She stared at Toby with intensity, her voice quick and low as she said, "Toby, I need you to tell me exactly what you saw."

Toby took a deep breath and said in a hushed whisper, still looking shaken, "A shadowy man was standing outside your room last night, he tried to get in but he couldn't when he tried, and I ran back to my room. It was so scary, Sarah."

Sarah relaxed slightly. Hadn't her father said that she had locked her door? Maybe it had been her father, or Derrick. Heck, it could have even been Karen if it was dark enough, not necessarily something evil. Toby had been tired and jumpy and it was the middle of the night. Either way there was no use scaring Toby about it, or telling anyone for that matter. If it was something magical, from Jareth's world, there was no way that she or any of her family would be able to deal with it.

"It's okay, Toby. I'm fine, he didn't get in," Sarah said with a confidence that she didn't quite feel.

"Yeah," Toby said, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. "He couldn't, like I said."

"Right, the door was locked," Sarah answered, distracted anew by the emotions surfacing within her. She loved Toby, too much to put into words, but the urge to wallow in her own confused misery was strong and she had a long car ride ahead of her to do it.

"No, it wasn't the lock." Toby shook his head, smiling for the first time since she had seen him that morning. "Your door was bright when he touched the knob!"

"Toby, what on earth are you—?"

"There you are sleepy beauty," her father called, walking into the living room.

"Hi, dad," Sarah said, taking Toby's hand and leading him all the way downstairs behind her, his words buzzing in her mind.

"Feeling better, Sarah? Are you hungry?" Karen asked, entering the room from the kitchen. "I ordered pizza."

"Pizza!" Toby cried out and ran to his mother.

"Yes, Toby," she said. "And you can help Derrick and I set the table."

Toby made a groan of protest, but followed his mother back into the kitchen to complete the unwelcome task. Sarah grinned at the sight of Toby following so reluctantly, dragging his feet.

"You want a bite to eat before you go?" Robert asked, turning to Sarah.

Sarah knew she was hungry after sleeping for so long, but shook her head, "No, Derrick seems to be in a big hurry. We'll just get me some drive thru food on the way home."

Sarah was startled to see that her father looked concerned. "What is it, dad?"

He put his hands on Sarah's shoulders and led her further from the kitchen where Derrick, Toby, and Karen were. Robert stopped and stared down at his daughter. "You don't have to do everything he says, you know?"

"Who?" Sarah asked and raised a surprised eyebrow. "Derrick?"

Her father nodded, his face etched with unease. "My Sarah, my little girl, would never allow anyone to expect that of her."

Do as I say, her mind taunted. "You're right, she wouldn't," Sarah whispered.

She stopped for a moment, pondering the changes that she had undergone in the last few years, all the normal things she had grown to desire and the fantasy she had given up. Those choices had all been unwound and reformed in just a day, all by one maddening Goblin King.

"I just hope that everything's all right between you two," her father prompted, a line of worry etched between his eyebrows.

"I'm fine dad, Derrick couldn't hurt a fly. Besides, we want the same things most of the time," Sarah explained with what she hoped was a sincere smile.

"And when you don't?" he asked, his voice lower. "Sarah, I don't approve of the way he talks to you. Most of the time I'd say you picked a keeper, but when he gets like this…"

Sarah felt her smile drop a bit. "Wow, you're serious, aren't you?"

"I'm just worried. You don't know, you weren't awake when he was complaining about you sleeping and being late driving back," Robert said, his face darkening. He shook his head and his voice softened, "You know, if you want to stay here with us a few days, play with Toby, visit old friends, reevaluate this situation, I wouldn't say anything against it."

"Thanks, daddy," Sarah said, touched. "I really appreciate it, I do. But I think I'm going home."

Her father seemed to know that she would say it, but frowned anyway. His words had left Sarah feeling unsettled and confused.

"Can I have a rain check on that offer?" Sarah asked.

"Okay, Sarah," Robert said, giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Rain check."

"God damn it," Derrick growled in frustration, honking at the stationary cars before them. His impulsive act led to at least twenty other car horns blaring all around them. Sarah rested her cheek against the cool glass of the window and sighed.

They had finally begun their long drive back to New York at six. It seemed that Robert and Karen had tried their best to keep her home for as long as possible, and succeeded in stalling for a solid two hours. Robert talked with Derrick about his fledgling career and offered advice, regardless of Derrick's protests about traffic and highly important meetings in the morning. Karen had shown Sarah her wedding jewelry and detailed how she had planned out the location and theme in accordance with her childhood fascination of the Regency era, despite Sarah explaining that she had already done everything but meet with photographers.

When the pizzas arrived, Toby begged Sarah to stay and eat a little, and how could she say no to that face? Derrick was in a decidedly bad mood as they sat around the dinner table, sulking and barely speaking. It was an ugly reminder of the summer after graduation, the year they had wanted her to come home. He had behaved exactly like this.

The overcast sky gave way to a light drizzle a quarter before six and now, at nearly half past seven, it was pouring down on the traffic jammed highway a merciless storm. With the bad weather, the car had barely moved at all in the last hour. They were still in New York, no closer to Connecticut than they had been an hour ago.

"Derrick?" Sarah said, leaning back in her seat, her knees to her chest. "Are you sure that we can make it back tonight?"

"We will make it back tonight," Derrick said with determined eyes on the unmoving car before them. His arms tensed so tightly that veins popped, as if at any moment he needed to move, and quickly. "I cannot believe that your parents kept us there for another two hours. We would be back home by now if it wasn't for them."

"Hey, you're upset, I get that. This traffic is a nightmare, but don't be such an ass about it," Sarah snapped.

Derrick didn't say anything. He gave the steering wheel a tight squeeze, his knuckles red with the effort, and stared at the road in obvious fury.

Sarah ignored his sulking and turned on the radio, fumbling with the buttons in search of a traffic report buried somewhere between fuzzy pop and golden oldies. She and Derrick rarely fought, but when they did it was a grudge match for hours, alternating between silence and shouting. Right now, Sarah was hoping the quiet would last. She lacked the energy to raise her voice. Sarah found the right station and the radio newscaster's muffled voice flowed through the car.

"It's time for the hourly traffic watch, folks. It looks like the I-94 North is closed down near White Plains. Heavy rain and fog have caused a four car pileup at Exit 85."

"It's a miracle no one was hurt, Chet. Just minor cuts and bruises," the other newscaster replied.

Sarah sighed and stared out the rain streaked window into the blackness. All around her were glowing tail lights and other perturbed drivers, anxious to get home. Another nameless driver honked in annoyance and earned a reactionary shout somewhere to the left of them. Outside the window, through the blurred glass, Sarah could see the black shapes of birds flying overhead illuminated each time lightning struck. A larger, whitish blur broke up the circle of common pigeons. Sarah's heart leaped and she begun rolling down her window.

"What are you doing?" Derrick said, "Sarah, it's pouring out there! You'll ruin the seats."

She reluctantly rolled the window back up.

"Well one thing's for sure, Chet, the I-94 is shut down for the night," the newscaster said. "Off-roads are still open, folks. So—"

Derrick shut off the radio with a sharp punch of his finger and rubbed his temples. "Damn it," he said under his breath.

"Let's just get off the highway," Sarah said. "We can get a motel room or something. It's going to take hours if we try to drive home tonight on the off-roads. Please Derrick? We'll go home in the morning."

Derrick mumbled to himself before maneuvering to the exit, receiving honks and exclamations of protest in response. Finally, they were moving. The exit opened to a cracked street in the midst of dense foliage, bordered by a string of buildings that had evolved to serve the highway voyager. Everything was twenty-four hour restaurants with all day breakfasts and motels with blinking neon vacancy signs. Sarah sighed in exhaustion and relief as Derrick pulled into the parking lot of the closest traveler's refuge.

The small lobby of the motel was lit in lurid florescent lighting with a garish, spiraling wallpaper pattern in the palest greens and purples. Sarah wrinkled her nose at the smell of rancid coffee coming from the open office door behind the counter as her wet feet squeaked across linoleum floor. A small balding man in a rain-soaked poncho stood behind the desk, shaking out an umbrella.

"Two?" he asked, boldly eyeing the drenched strangers in his lobby.

"Yes, sir," Derrick replied, thumbing through his wallet for cash.

"That's forty-five for the night," the man replied, taking the money and handing Derrick a key. "You're in 110."

Sarah followed Derrick back out to the car for their bags and were further pelted with raindrops. Her thin shirt became plastered to her skin as if glued there as she heaved her bag into their refuge for the night. The room was much nicer than the lobby. The bed was large and adorned with soft looking pillows and clean sheets, better than what Sarah had expected after hearing motel horror stories of roaches and nastily stained comforters. Although most of it was decorated in a questionable color of maroon, there was a small kitchenette with a coffee maker, and robes and towels in the bathroom. Perfectly acceptable lodging for the night.

"I'm going to take a bath, my head is still killing me," Sarah said once they settled in.

"Okay, baby," Derrick replied with a huff, flopping down on the bed in his soaked clothing.

Sarah sat in the bathtub as long as she could, taking in a lungful of steaming air each time she breathed and listening to the angry rain outside pound the roof above her. The water cooled and her fingers wrinkled, but Sarah was unwilling to leave the sanctuary of the tub. Her fingers scrubbed her scalp mercilessly with the travel size shampoo while she tried to think.

I hope Jareth's all right, her mind whispered, shuddering at the thought of him fighting those horrific things he had described as she dunked her head beneath the surface, clouding the water with soap. She felt so helpless as she pictured it, wishing that there was some way for her to help. What's said is said, there's no taking it back. Jareth is gone, she reminded herself grimly. He was never coming back and she would live her life precisely as she had planned it, without the Goblin King. The soft ache in her chest flared again and Sarah's stomach twisted in guilt.

"Please be all right," she whispered aloud, reverent as a prayer.

"Damn it," Derrick swore loudly from the other room as she was drying off and changing into her pajamas.

"Are you okay out there?" Sarah called, dragging her brush through the tangles in her hair as she exited the bathroom.

"No," he said, pacing in frustration. "I left my wallet in the lobby."

"Then go get it," Sarah said, still frustrated with him for being so pig-headed.

"And leave you here alone?" he asked, as if it were unthinkable.

"Excuse me, I'm an adult. I can take care of myself," Sarah said, flaring up.

Derrick glared at her. "Fine, I will. But you saw that lowlife manager, what kind of people do you think stay in a place like this? I just don't want anything to happen to you, baby."

Sarah stared him down and gestured to herself, "Again, I am a fully grown human being here."

"Just, don't go anywhere," Derrick muttered before leaving with an extra hard slam of the door.

Sarah huffed in frustration and returned to the bathroom to finish brushing her hair. "Treats me like a child. He's the only person I'm ever with," she grumbled angrily and tugged on a stubborn snarl in her hair with more force than necessary. Sarah let the brush clatter on the counter and looked in the mirror with a sigh, remembering other mirrors and happier times. Fear for her friends invaded her thoughts and blocked out her anger towards Derrick.

"I still need you. What wouldn't I give to talk to you, any of you, right now…" she said and gently touched the glassy surface.

The mirror changed in an instant, exactly as it used to in her adolescence. Sarah shrank against the wall as Hoggle's welcome face appeared before her. He looked tired, hungry, and a smear of dirt marked his cheek. There was a wariness in his face now that he had never possessed before, the kind of expression that could only have come from living through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, but he was alive. Even more, he recognized her, she could tell from his eyes. He was still himself and had not been consumed by the changelings. Hoggle was all right.

"Sarah?" he asked in shock, blinking at her in disbelief.

"Hoggle!" she said and stepped closer to the mirror. "Oh, Hoggle, you're okay!"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Sarah," he said, his eyes glancing around behind her.

"What about Ludo? Sir Didymus too?" she asked. Her voice rose with emotion, but Sarah didn't care.

"They're fine, just fine," he explained kindly, tilting his head to study her. "We've been living in the forest, filled with changers of course, things have taken over, but—"

"Oh, thank God," she whispered in relief, clutching at the counter's edge like a lifeline. "I thought that you all had been taken."

"No, Didymus smelled out the changelings before they reached us at the Labyrinth's edge. Bloody fox can't smell much at all for the most part, but when he can he's awful useful, and then…" Hoggle stopped his story and frowned. "Sarah, how did you know something was wrong?"

"Long story," she said with a shaky laugh. "Your Goblin King ended up here, Aboveground, and staying in my old house."

Hoggle breathed in sharply with shock. "You saw Jareth?"

"Yes," she answered.

"He's alive?"

"Yes, Hoggle," she answered. "I mean, he was hurt, but he's better now. He only stayed for about a day, he left last night, to go back to the Labyrinth and fight those…things."

"We thought he was dead, or maybe turned out a coward," Hoggle said and visibly shuddered. "It's been awful, Sarah, just awful."

"But you aren't hurt?" she asked again. "All of you, you're all right, honestly?"

"We're fine. We've been hiding from the changers, like I said. They're dangerous but not too bright, and you can ward them off when they're shadowy with just a bit of light," he answered. Hoggle's brow knotted in concern. "What about you, are you all right, Sarah?"

"Of course," Sarah answered, confused. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, it's been so long since you've tried to talk to me," Hoggle said, shifting uncomfortably. "I thought you'd forgotten us, or maybe something worse."

"No, Hoggle, there must be some mistake," Sarah said slowly. "I've been trying to talk for you for years now, you just stopped answering me."

"Sarah, we haven't heard a thing. Honestly, I—," he broke off abruptly. Hoggle's eyes darted around in fear, "Something's coming. It sounds like it's with you."

"Hoggle, wait!" Sarah said as he faded from the mirror.

"Same old Hoggle," she whispered with a small laugh at the sight of him running away. The familiarity of it made a bubble of hope form inside of her. They were all safe. The knowledge gave her newfound optimism.

The sound of footsteps startled her and Sarah's heart began to hammer.

"Sarah?" Derrick's voice called out.

"In here," she said meekly, unsure of how much Derrick had heard and when he had arrived back. Another concern blossomed in her mind. She was uncertain of what to make of Hoggle's parting words, unable to fathom why their communication had been blocked.

"You okay, babe?" he said slowly. "I heard voices."

Sarah's heart pounded faster, unsure of what to say. "I was…talking to myself," she said.

"Oh?" Derrick replied, raising his eyebrows.

"What about you, did you find your wallet?" she asked, suddenly wary that she and Derrick may not be safe in the motel, and not because of his mortal suspicions. Hoggle had heard something that frightened him, perhaps something from the Underground. As irritating as he was being, she had to keep Derrick safe.

He pulled the wallet from his pocket. "Yep, I told you that guy was scum. He tried to tell me he didn't see where it was. Then I pointed out that it had 'fallen' between two files on his desk."

Sarah frowned at his superior manner and sighed. She didn't have the energy to argue, emotionally or physically. Had she really chosen this over the Labyrinth? "Derrick, I just want to go to sleep."

If she could get him to fall asleep, perhaps she could call on Hoggle again and find out what was on her side of the mirror.

Derrick shook his head once, blocking her from walking any nearer to the bed. "Sarah, I want to know who you were really talking to first."

She felt her stomach drop in surprise. With a sickening realization, Sarah remembered that she had never heard him shut the door.

"How long were you really standing there before you said anything?" she asked, her voice accusing him unabashedly.

"A while," Derrick replied, unconcerned. "You're my fiancé, Sarah. We're supposed to be truthful to one another."

There he went again, invoking her guilt. Sarah felt more anger at him for his sneaking than remorse for her lie. Why should she feel guilty for his eavesdropping? His tendency for nosing around made her start with newfound comprehension.

"How long have you been spying on me when I didn't know it?" Sarah asked, her voice hushed.

Derrick shook his head. "It's not spying when you have a responsibility to someone. You're going to be my wife, Sarah. Forgive me, but I think that I'm a bit entitled to knowing what's going on in your life."

"I'm allowed to have my privacy," she replied, slowly backing away from him, inching to the front door.

"Is it privacy you want or secrets?" Derrick asked. There he goes with that guilt inducing voice again, Sarah thought. "Tell me, Sarah, how much do you really keep from me? I saw you with that man at the party."

That was a low blow, Sarah thought. She continued to inch away from him, her back rested on the door that led out to the parking lot. Sarah's fingers found the doorknob behind her and she held it tentatively, in case she needed to run. "I can spend time with my friends if I feel like it."

"No, you are my fiancé and should be spending your time with me," he said, clenching his fists, "not with anyone else, unless I approve of it, particularly not that meddlesome Goblin King."

"You sexist pig—," Sarah froze and felt her fingers slip from the doorknob. Goblin King, her mind repeated in Derrick's voice then immediately screamed, Run!

Sarah fumbled for the doorknob again and was thrown off of her feet from the side.

"Get off of me!" Sarah screamed as she hit the ground. She was trying to injure every inch of him she could reach with slaps, punches, and kicks as they struggled for dominance in the fight, a tangle of arms and legs on the floor.

Derrick laughed as they knocked into a small end table. The lamp sitting upon it fell and shattered, startling Sarah for just a moment too long. Derrick came out on top. He pinned her wrists above her head, his legs trapping hers, and leered over her, his smile wide and mocking.

"Don't fight me, baby," he said. "You can't win."

"Get off!" Sarah shouted again and struggled against him. Derrick leaned down and caught her mouth in a kiss, his tongue hot and prying. Never had Sarah loathed someone so much. She bit him as hard as she could. Derrick screeched, a chilling, high noise, and pulled back, clutching at his lips. A pungent, dank taste filled Sarah's mouth and not the coppery flavor she was expecting. In her shock, Sarah spat it out on the paleness of the carpet. It was a thick dark substance, blue-tinted and congealed, not the red liquidity of fresh bleeding.

"Oh my God," Sarah said faintly and touched her mouth before spitting again.

Derrick was breathing shallow, low breaths. He stood slowly and wiped his mouth, the darkness of his blood smearing across his pale cheek.

"You're not human," she whispered in horror.

Derrick shook his head and licked the corner of his mouth, "Mmm."

Sarah's mind knew immediately that it would be flight, not fight, in this situation. She backed away on her hands, scrambling to stand. Derrick laughed and jumped for her, but Sarah was quicker. As fast as she could, she grabbed the only surviving lamp and held it aloft, a weapon. When Derrick sprang, she brought it down over his head. The screech was louder this time, pitched high and keening in his throat. Sarah covered her ears as Derrick's hands flew to his face. He was blocking the door, but there were two windows covered by blinds in the back of the motel room. Sarah ran from the reeling creature and began pulling down the drawstring contraptions.

"Come on, come on, come on," Sarah said frantically, pulling at the insufferable blinds. They broke free and clattered to the floor to reveal the window. Sarah's heart fell. While she could open it, there was a layer of screen to keep her from getting out, and beyond that, decorative bars in a circular pattern.

"Are you kidding me?" she moaned.

An inhuman snarl made Sarah's attention whip around to the Derrick-creature that was reeling beside the door. His skin had begun to bubble, as if water were boiling beneath its surface. It faded from his body in a wisp of flesh-colored cloud that floated for a moment and dissipated into thin air. His clothing fell around him in a pile. Whatever stood before her now was not the man who Sarah had come to love over the last few years. Maybe it is and you were too blind to see it, Sarah thought, her stomach churning.

It was as Jareth had described it, a living shadow, formed from dense dark smoke. The shoulders were high and crooked, the frame whip thin and wiry, everything blurred and jumping about its body in wisps. The creature was the stuff of nightmares, made of swirling darkness with no discernible features except for a pair of blank white eyes lacking both iris and pupil, and a mouth of sharp teeth when it smiled widely at her. Sarah screamed at the sight of its wicked grin.

"What's wrong Sarah?" it asked. The creature no longer had the voice of Derrick Grant. It was a voice that held no distinguishable substance or tone, a shadow of a voice. "You don't like the way I look anymore?"

Sarah made a break for it, running for the door. She was in way over her head. The Derrick-monster laughed, hollow and horrible, and reached for her. Sarah could see the arm of the creature reforming into a hand as it shot out, Derrick's hand. Yes, she was not mistaken; there were the twin moles on his right index knuckle.

"Stop it!" she screamed and thrashed wildly as his hand closed around her throat, her eyes closed and waiting for the end as her open palm made contact with its shadowy form. Behind her closed eyes, the world exploded in white light. The changeling screeched its highest, loudest scream yet as she fell into the ruins of the motel lamp, a shard of glass slicing a line in the corner of her mouth when her cheek hit the carpet. Sarah kept her eyes clenched shut as the world continued to burn, a light so hot it hurt her eyes behind their lids. As quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

Sarah's eyes fluttered and met darkness, her entire body ached. For a moment, she felt some relief when she realized that Derrick was gone.

"Sarah," someone called to her from far away.

Sarah moaned and touched the corner of her mouth where the glass had sliced her. When she pulled her hand away she saw her own blood, red and thin, mixed with the changelings. She stared at it on the tips of her fingers for a moment in fascination. Her vision was fading in spots, great black holes on the surface of sight.

"Sarah," the voice said again, low, and accented. Above her, she could see a blurred vision of pale hair. Warmth spread within her, calming her. Sarah's mind felt sluggish and fuzzy, but she recognized that voice through the haze. The Goblin King knelt beside her and gathered her up into his arms. Sarah gasped in pain as she felt herself lifted from the floor. A dull, dead ache spreading throughout her body. She struggled a moment against Jareth's hold, before relaxing, unable to fight anymore. Everything hurt.

"What's happening?" she asked, nausea making her dizzy. Sarah shut her eyes and shook. He tightened his hold on her and Sarah felt a curious sensation, like everything around her was moving terribly fast while they stood still.

The Goblin King lowered her to the ground and she staggered against him. He touched the corner of her mouth with a gloved hand and studied the mix of human and changeling blood on his fingertips. "You're being poisoned," he murmured.

"What are you going to do?" she asked in a ragged whisper, each syllable an effort.

Just as Sarah lost all consciousness, he swept her back up, leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I'm taking you home."

Author's Note: I know that one was a long chapter, but I couldn't find a better place to split it. Sadly it was lacking in Jareth, but don't worry, there will be much more of him coming up! Thanks to all those who have read so far. Please read and review.