The Chapter Outside of Time

This story is finished. The stage curtains have closed, the players have given their performances and the audience has gone home with their requests for refunds refused.

Time passes, as it does, and there is nothing left to do. The auditorium is silent, empty except for an elderly janitor who pushes an enormous broom along the sticky floor with swift strokes, stuck with the thankless job of cleaning up all of the leftover popcorn. (Any cleaner can tell you that popcorn is a snack with magic all of its own. It inexplicitly manages to find a way to spread itself along the floor of any place an audience has been, even if the nearest popcorn vendor happens to be in the next city over.)

This story is finished, because life doesn't give second chances.

Except that it isn't, because sometimes it does; especially if you happen to be a King who can control time.

Imagine the face of a clock. And even though it's a very particular clock, in many ways it is just like any other; a physical manifestation and measure of the transitory nature of time.

Maybe this particular clock looks older than most, but don't let that distract you. And if you can, ignore its unusual shape, with its oversized golden spikes and spires. The shape doesn't matter—this clock is constantly changing its appearance, shifting slightly with each second. It looked different yesterday, and I'm sure you wouldn't be able to recognise it tomorrow.

That is, until you notice the extra number.

Now, look a little more closely, and you'll notice that the hands of the particular clock are moving. Nothing strange about that, except for the fact that they're moving the wrong way around the clock, crawling past the numbers in reverse.

And if you're ready for things to get stranger still, turn your head just a little to the left. Give your eyes time to adjust to the gloom, and you'll see another hand. But this is not the hand of a clock—this hand, wrapped clumsily in a bandage, belongs to the King who happens to be controlling the ancient clock, and even more impressively, the time around it.

This King is powerful; he had the power to influence time and reshape matter. This King is intelligent; he knew more about the mechanics of the universe than any other being, and could break down each infinite component into smaller pieces for use as his personal playthings.

This King is wild; Sarah had escaped.

Waves of overwhelming emotions threatened to wash away his customary composure. It was almost unbearable, the way his mind kept reminding him of vivid moments of the previous night, each one a fresh torture of meticulous detail. Her eyes, and the way they had softened as suspicion gradually gave way to something warmer. Her nearness, and the way that their bodies had melted together. Her heat, and the way that her skin had smouldered, the spark that had started an inferno. Her sudden absence. It would drive him mad, if it hadn't already.

Still, he managed to keep his hand perfectly steady as it wound the clock backwards, moulding time to fit his will. Remaining calm was important, even if it was near impossible. It was the only way that he could ensure there would not be any mistakes. Time manipulation had the potential to become… complex. Like any other thing in the universe, time resented being manipulated, and would always try to find paths of resistance. Even the smallest miscalculation could mean disaster.

But the alternative was no option at all. After the night he had just lived, and the way she had made him feel, there was simply no way he could face the infinite void of his life as it lay before him, stretched out to impossibility in a way it never had before. Unending, everlasting. Without her, it was just a cold endlessness; a living death.

The King laughed, but it sounded painful. He had realised the joke. Even though he could command time itself, his mind was stuck in a looped infinity, fixed on one girl.

Did she really think that she could run someplace he would not follow? Not even if she travelled to the most distant star. Not if she found another dimension, even more remote than his. Even in death he would find a way. He would always find her.

The plan was simple: he would replay the night, but this time, he would get it right. He will not let her go this time. Or would not. Or soon never shall have. Sometimes, it was hard to find the right words when it came to tampering with time.

His booted foot tapped against the floor, but the sound was muffled. All sound was muffled in this space that existed between time. The pointed hands on the clock continued to crawl backwards. Almost there now. Just a little more.

At first, the King had planned to go back to the very beginning and meet her for the first time again. But there were too many variables involved, and no guarantees that the strategy would work. What if she rejected him again, and there was no longer any past to rewind? No, it was far simpler to return to the recent past and re-tread a proven path.

Or perhaps he could go back to the moment when their lips first touched. Tempting. After all, how many lovers got to re-live their first kiss? But again, logic presented him with the same problem. The Jareth of right-now would act differently around Sarah than he had in the past—even against his own will, how could he not?—which would mean that she would react differently, setting off a chain reaction that could lead him right back to the same problem. She might leave him again. It was too risky.

In the end, he had decided that he needed to return to the point right before it had all started going wrong. Right before he had lost her.

Over on the face of the clock, the hands slowly wound down, eventually coming to rest at the exact time required. And… there. It was done. Too easy, really. The King smiled his sharpest smile. His entire existence had been leading to this point, guiding him to her. Suddenly, the forever of the future did not seem so bleak. Without looking back, he stepped through time and into his role once more.

"I will find you, Sarah. Wait for me."

A/N: Surprise! This story is back. This Chapter is meant to act as a sort of bridge for the next Chapter, which will be the alternate ending for this story.

'Consequences of Falling' was the first story I ever wrote that I decided to show to people who don't share my last name, so I can quite honestly say that I never expected it to have the sort of response that it got. I never dreamed that it would be read by so many people, or that it would be so kindly received. I'm still a little overwhelmed.

I really loved writing this story, and I was over the moon to discover that there were some other people who enjoyed it too. The last chapter left most people feeling dissatisfied, though; and I can understand that—after all, that was the point. Everyone was meant to leave feeling unsatisfied, so... mission successful. Yay?

However, I've had a number of requests for an alternate ending, and you guys are all so darn cute that I couldn't resist.

So, without further ado, prepare yourselves for Chapter the Seventh: In Which the Dark King Bends Time to His Will, and Our Heroes Find out What It Really Means to Fall.