A/N: I don't own the Labyrinth or any of the characters therein. And can I just say that I'm very touched and thankful for all the people that take the time to review my story every single time I put up a chapter? Honestly, this story would have stopped about two chapters ago without you all. So thanks.
And does anyone have any idea how hard it is not to wish?
Chapter SevenSarah tried not to be too amazed that she'd actually managed to find her way back to the path. She tried not to slow down because she was still in the Forest and there was a good chance the Fireys were still out there somewhere. Sarah tried not to think that the path might be an illusion. She tried not to think about the Fireys. More than anything, Sarah was trying to stay alert.
If Jareth had told her the truth, she'd been running, walking, jogging – moving anyway – almost constantly for the past thirteen hours. She'd been taken at the end of the day. So she'd been awake now for… twenty-three hours. In the past thirteen she'd pushed herself to her break point of emotional endurance, and yet she kept pulling out a little more. She was more exhausted than she wanted to admit. Physically, she wondered how much she had left in her. Mentally, she knew she was pretty drained. The Labyrinth was the biggest endurance test on every level that there was. You ran it in desperation and fear and you pushed yourself until you could go no further. The Labyrinth was not an easy run for anyone and the end was just at everyone's last ditch effort. Last time, Sarah knew she'd had no more reserve to draw on once she crossed the threshold of the Escher Room. But she found it – her love for her brother renewed it. What would pull her through this time? What would hold her up to say her 'right words'? Were there even right words? She hadn't done the wishing this time, Micah had. And he was dead. Did that mean she forfeited? Had she already lost and he was making her run this for kicks?
She added that to the list of things she couldn't think about. Her eyes were heavy and her vision hazy. Her limbs felt leaden. She had to find some more something from somewhere – any emotion to keep her moving. The hate that had driven her to start with had worn away. The more he came and saw her, the more she understood him. He was as angry as she was. You can't fight anger with anger. But you can't fight it with calm either. Micah didn't feel real anymore. How could it be, in this place? Nothing felt real here because nothing was real. What had Jareth said? 'Because this place is made of dreams?' Sarah would have liked to know what he meant. And where this apparent change of heart came from. Every other time she had decried something unfair, he'd just scoffed at her. Taunted her with what her basis for comparison was. Fairness. Sarah focused on the word while she kept walking.
All she wanted to do was sleep.
Little did Sarah know that she was no longer in the Firey's part of the Forbidden Forest. She had passed through the home of the tree goblins without noticing them. And she had entered the Grove of Lost Dreamers. Runner after runner had fallen asleep here and never woken up again. Jareth watched, wondering if she knew. She was still right on track. She'd taken three turns, almost without thinking about it, it seemed. Like she knew exactly where she was going. It wasn't possible, he knew, for her to know. But he wanted to know how she was doing it. Jareth watched as Sarah slowed down, bit by bit. He watched as she stopped walking in straight line, started weaving her way along the path as though intoxicated. He smiled as the Sand-Imps dusted her with sleeping sand. And Jareth laughed as he caught her mouthing words to herself. 'Just a little farther,' she said. 'Just a little'.
"Just a little farther," Sarah whispered to herself. "C'mon, I can do this." 'Sleep now, Sarah, sleep now,' a little voice she could swear was hers whispered in her head. It was so seductive. Such a wonderful idea. She'd already lost anyway, hadn't she? She'd no idea what to do when she got to the Castle. Hell, she wasn't sure she'd make it to the castle anyway. She might as well lie down a little. Didn't that grassy patch look so inviting, so comfortable?
"No, I have to keep going," Sarah reprimanded herself. "I can do this. Just a little farther."
"Oh Sarah," Jareth said. "Would it be so hard for you to give in? You'd all but given up when I last saw you. Now look at you." He smiled to himself smugly. Victory, he felt, was as good as his. The goblins in the throne room laughed and one actually managed to catch a chicken. Jareth scowled. He hated the messy things. Then he grinned. Maybe that could be Sarah's first job after losing the Labyrinth. Cleaning up all the chicken droppings in his castle. He laughed loudly. All the goblins froze and looked up at him. He looked at them in exasperation.
"Well, laugh then," he instructed and they all collapsed in hysterics. Jareth smiled smugly as he watched Sarah sit down on the grassy patch, specially designed for capturing a weary runner.
Sarah looked at her hands and saw them shimmer. She frowned through the sleepy fog that had descended over her. Something wasn't right. She rubbed her hands together and could barely feel the thin grit of dust. But it was there. She frowned. How dare Jareth trap her like this? How dare she fall for it? She tried to stand up again but couldn't. She couldn't fight it anymore. Not now she was sitting down. She sighed deeply. A tear slipped down her cheek. She'd lost. She'd lost because she was weak enough to stop running. She laid back on the grass, unable to even sit up any longer. She closed her heavy eyes as another tear rolled down her cheek.
"I wish…," she mumbled tiredly without thinking. She barely stayed coherent enough to finish the thought. "I was stronger than this," she finished. She didn't have time to realize what she'd done before everything just faded away…