Hello! I haven't touched this story in a long time, shame on me! I've returned to it after two years because inspiration took me. I've gone back and entirely rewritten the previously posted chapters because I wasn't happy with them at all, and I've got a brand new chapter after two years. So welcome back patient previous readers, i'd recommend reading starting from the beginning! For new readers I really hope you enjoy this story.

Warning – Rated M for - Explicit language, abuse, violence, sexual content, essentially all round dark themes and a dark violent Jareth. I will also make sure to put warnings above chapters featuring any of the above just in case.

Disclaimer- I do not own anything Labyrinth or Jim Henderson Productions related, this is just purely my own take on these beloved characters.

Sarah stared at herself in the mirror, trying to hold back the tears that escaped too easily of late. She couldn't will herself to say the words, to even muster a whisper that she knew would go unanswered. It didn't matter how many times she said she needed her friends. Screaming, pleading or crying into her mirror would not elicit a response.

It had been around two and a half years since Sarah had run the Labyrinth. She was now just two days away from her eighteenth birthday but not a day went by that she didn't find her thoughts drifting to the Underground. Initially when she returned her friends were desperate to visit regularly. Sarah would speak to them nearly daily through the mirror in her bedroom, her loyal companions ever eager to encourage her through the most menial of challenges. However, they weren't confined to just her bedroom mirror. She'd catch glimpses of them in the reflection of the lake by her house, hear giddy whispers in the wind, spot strange shapes flitting by her in her peripheral vision. It was comforting to know her friends were always there, her guardian angels, watching and cheering her on.

Unfortunately, Sarah also began to notice mischievous Goblins, who were always pulling pranks. She'd seen them; destroying student's work, hiding teachers' equipment, pick-pocketing shiny objects from people in the street, purposefully riling up animals and babies, the list went on and on. Whenever Sarah noticed them gathering around a pram she'd feel a creeping apprehension but she was too cowardly to confront them, in case he found out she could see them. They'd never bothered her directly, and she'd never seen anything other than a few mean spirited pranks, so she felt confident they could cause no real harm to anyone…at least that's what she told herself. No, the real issue was seeing the Goblins caused Sarah's mind to be overwhelmed with thoughts of Him, freezing at the idea of those mismatched eyes watching her just out of sight.

But as time went on she saw her friends less and less. No longer did she catch any Fae in the corner of her eye, the world became overwhelmingly mundane. No longer did her friends show up spontaneously in her mirror just when she needed them, only her own hollow eyes stared back at her until tears blurred her vision. It started gradually, not being able to reach them for a few days, then weeks and then months without contact. Slowly, they faded from her life and for the last six months there had been no signs at all.

Deafening silence filled the room. In these cold lonely moments doubt crept in like a parasite. What if she was insane? What if her imagination truly had blurred her sense of reality? Was her mind broken? She looked broken. Sarah had never been vain but it hurt to see how she looked now. Gone was her silken dark hair that had perfectly complimented her pale flawless skin. Gone was her knowing smile full of mystery and confidence. Gone were her piercing green eyes, once full of passion and joy. Now her hair was unkempt and dull, her skin had gone from pale to nearly translucent and sickly. The only real colour on her face were the dark circles under her eyes that had become a permanent fixture. Even her large almond shaped eyes looked small and sunken in her hollowed, pained face. The light in them was going out.

Rather than torture herself with the silence and her own haunting visage, Sarah turned to that drawer. She had to keep everything hidden as Irene was always on a warpath to be deliberately spiteful. No matter how much Sarah begged her father to stop Irene entering her room, it was apparently impossible for him to deny his precious wife anything. The thought of Irene getting her nosy hands on her precious memories filled Sarah with such dread. Instead of ever risking that, Sarah had put a false bottom into one of the drawers in her vanity table. She even ensured every drawer was always locked and the key was on her at all times as a red herring, hoping that if Irene ever did force them open she'd assume the locks were her only security.

In truth Sarah didn't need to go to such extremes, but the drawer's contents were so precious to her she couldn't bare the thought of anyone else ever seeing them. Hidden in her covert drawer was a little oak box that held the few things that reminded her she wasn't losing her grip on reality. At times like these, where her memories grew hazy and her doubts became untamable, she pulled them out to remind herself that not everything is as it seems.

The oak box itself was the first item, it was both a gift and a threat. The night after she ran the labyrinth she awoke to find it laying on the bed next to her. She should have been terrified that someone was able to get so close to her when she was at her most vulnerable but she'd been too intrigued by the beautiful gift to realise the sinister undertones. At least at first. Sarah had been shocked when she first touched the lid, the second her finger tips had connected she could not help but lovely caress the strangely soft wood. There had been something hypnotic about the box that even now Sarah could not explain it. It was covered in intricate carvings that seemed to shift and warp of their own accord if she stared at them too long. Sarah had initially assumed it had been a gift from one of her wonderful new friends, perhaps Hoggle. However the moment she opened the lid it became abundantly clear who had sent her the gift. Inside was a single crystal ball and a note that read

I can be generous Sarah.

She had instantly hidden the crystal inside an old velvet jewellery bag for fear it would allow him to watch her. But she could not get rid of the box. It was so beautiful it seemed almost a crime to destroy. Originally she had hidden it under her bed, but as reminders and keepsakes of her time in the Labyrinth grew, it seemed like the most logical place to store her precious treasures in. However, not once in nearly three years had she ever removed the crystal from its bag.

Ritualistically, Sarah began to remove each of the items. First was a little red plastic bracelet, covered in scuff marks. Hoggle had returned it to her that first evening after she'd beat the labyrinth. She'd begged him to keep it and explained that it really wasn't anything precious at all but he just wouldn't listen. Even just looking at the bracelet bought back the memory of that night, she could practically hear his voice echoing.

"I aint no scoundrel, just wouldn't be right. I trickes you out of it Sarah, just don't feel right to me. I mean after…. Well after what I did, I don't deserve it '' He stammered, and no matter how much Sarah laughed at his strange sudden moral code he wouldn't hear of it.

Next was the most ordinary looking thing in the box, a plain rock. It seemed silly to keep but it reminded her so much of Ludo she had to save it. One evening Sarah had joked that Ludo should teach her to speak to rocks. After many hours of failed attempts Ludo comforted her in his normal sweet manner that the rocks did like Sarah, they just could not understand her. She hadn't really expected a different outcome, but had kept the rock all the same. She liked to imagine that one day, just maybe, she could make it understand her.

Sarah pulled out an owl feather from the box and felt a familiar shiver of fear creep along her skin. She'd kept the feather not as a reminder of her adventure in the Labyrinth, but a warning to never repeat her mistakes. A week after she'd rescued Toby, Sarah had been tucking him into his crib when she heard a strange sound coming from the balcony. Apprehension took hold of her body as she rushed to the source of the ominous noise but all she found was a single white feather on the railing. It felt like a threat. The feather was a sign that He was still watching, waiting to whisk Toby away again.

There was also a leather bound notebook full to the brim with all of Sarah scattered thoughts in the weeks after she'd escaped the Labyrinth. Some pages were failed attempts to draw what she'd seen but sadly she had no real artistic talent. She'd quickly resorted to lengthy descriptions of everything she'd seen, heard, and felt. Her hands had exploded along the page to capture every detail as quickly as possible in a frenzied state. Every page was smudged, disorganised and manic. In fact as Sarah looked at them now some were entirely illegible. But what could be made out filled her with such longing and regret because those thirteen hours would never be matched. Her existence would always be muted and dull in comparison to the magic of the Labyrinth. Sarah slammed the book shut and shoved it back into the box.

Loneliness overwhelmed Sarah. She'd always been an outsider but it never used to bother her, she was content with her own company. Irene might enjoy making endless jabs at Sarah's lack of a "normal" social life but Sarah really hadn't cared before her time in the Underground. Her adventures in the Labyrinth may have helped her mature, her plays and make believe games felt foolish once she'd experienced true peril, but her experiences also isolated her from those around her even more. It was as though she did not quite exist in the real world, she was only ever half present while her mind was occupied with a desire for something…more.

However she was by no means a hermit. She had a handful of friends who tolerated her strange ways. They didn't care when she spaced out for hours on end, didn't mind how dramatic and passionate she was when she was present in the moment, and most importantly they didn't judge her because she would rather babysit her brother than go out. Sarah had even given into peer pressure and tried dating, mostly to prove to Irene that she could, even though no one ever really caught her attention. In the last two and a half years she'd had a handful of flings and…Taylor.

Taylor was the only guy who'd she'd ever had real interest in. They'd met roughly a year ago and she'd been drawn to how simple and genuine he seemed to be. He was average height, scrawny, with a mop of messy brown hair that constantly fell into his eyes, but his smile was infectious. Taylor wasn't classically handsome but he exuded kindness, charm and normality. He was a stark contrast to the cruel yet intimidatingly ethereal beauty of a certain fae.

Taylor had been the one to approach her. Sarah had been sitting alone deeply engrossed in a book when he'd noticed her. She had been resting casually against a tree, completely oblivious to the damp ground, her hair being whipped around her by the wind or her admirer. Even from across the field Taylor could see the intensity in Sarah's eyes as she devoured the book in front of her. In that moment he saw Sarah like a work of art, frozen in a moment of genuine passion that could not be tainted by the world around her, and he realised he had overlooked possibly the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Sarah on the other hand has no real interest in Taylor initially. When he sauntered over to try and catch her attention, she had bluntly shattered his pride by telling him she was busy without even looking up.

Taylor was persistent though and he pursued her relentlessly, determined to catch her attention. He took every opportunity to integrate himself in her life, sitting near her in every class, walking her home, constantly asking about her books and plays. While her fae friends were slowly disappearing, Taylor made her feel like life didn't have to be quite so dull without them. After everything she'd experienced with Him, she never imagined she'd find anyone who made her feel..safe. His attention didn't flood her body with the same dark temptations that she'd experienced during those mystical thirteen hours, but Sarah found that she liked having something that was simple, unthreatening and uncomplicated. He was human and he made her feel human again.

But the less Sarah saw of the Fae world, the more she withdrew from him. It was easy to forget she hadn't spoken to Hoggle in a few weeks in the beginning because she had been so busy enjoying her time with Taylor. It wasn't until she stopped hearing from them completely that Sarah realised just how much things had escalated. After spending two years straddling both worlds, losing her link to the Underground made her resent the human world. It was like the most vibrant part of her life had slipped away and left gaping grey holes behind. Part of her felt guilty, as though she was being punished for forgetting her friends. Or maybe it was worse, those moments of feeling more human with Taylor meant she had willingly chosen this life over her fae friends permanently.

She'd ended things with Taylor two months ago because she could not stand the hurt in his eyes every time he looked at her. But a pathetic part of her hoped that by sacrificing her life with Taylor she could bring back her link to the fae. Instead she was more alone and miserable than ever.

As Sarah put away the oak box, gently tucking it back into its hidden space, she noticed a piece of paper on the table. She recognised the writing on the paper immediately, it was one of Irene's passive aggressive notes.

'Sarah, call Linda to find out what time she'll be arriving in town on Friday'

Rolling her eyes at Irene's pettiness, Sarah reached for her phone. Irene or her father could have called to organise things but no, leave it to her to deal with everything. It didn't matter that she was the child and they were supposed to be mature adults. She bit her lip, trying to decide if it was worth the fight to tell Irene to do it herself, but Sarah really wanted her mother to come and knew a petty victory over Irene wasn't worth the risk of her losing more time with her mother.

Sarah held her breath as the phone rang, waiting for the inevitable voice mail message.

"Oh Sarah! Are you okay sweetie, what is it?" Her mother sounded flustered, but Sarah was too shocked that her mother had actually picked up to pay any attention to her tone.

"Hi Mum, everything's fine here I actually just needed to…"

"God you have no idea how busy I've been Sarah! I kept meaning to call you but rehearsals have been hectic. I'm so glad you called me. I have so much to tell you" Her mother cut across her, business as usual.

Linda had left Sarah when she was eight to pursue her acting career. Sarah's parents were childhood sweethearts, but Linda got pregnant too young. While Sarah's mother had tried to stay, one day she could 'bear it no longer' and simply left. She'd moved into the city to be with a younger man who made her feel 'appreciated' and 'noticed'. She'd even gained moderate success on the stage and, although delayed, Linda was getting the life she'd always wanted. All she had to do was sacrifice her relationship with Sarah to get there.

Sarah didn't resent her… well not entirely. When she was younger she'd dreamed of gaining her mothers approval by following in her footsteps and becoming an actress. However, the hours she'd poured into writing about her experiences in the Labyrinth made her realise she was in love with words themselves, not performing them. She still loved the theatre but more of the beautiful prose, the intricate words being brought to life, rather than the attention and adoration that her mother craved. The thought always made her smile, after all He had taught her the importance of words and now she'd found her own path out of her mothers shadow with them.

That didn't stop Sarah wishing her mum showed she cared for her as much as her own ambitions. Whenever Sarah visited Linda in those early years it always ended in arguments, and Sarah had definitely got her stubbornness from her mother. Exhausted from being resented and unwanted in her mothers new life, Sarah stopped staying with her all together and their only communication became infrequent phone calls and a handful of day trips to the city each year.

"Sarah, were you listening, you're awfully quiet?" Linda questioned, breaking Sarah out of her self-pitying train of thought.

"Sorry Mum."

"You could be just a little bit more excited for me Sarah, this play is a major deal. The director is phenomenal, every play he does is an absolute hit. This is what I've always dreamed of! All these sacrifices are finally paying off!" Her mother was using her injured puppy voice because of Sarah's lack of enthusiasm but Sarah had no sympathy, as one of her mothers "sacrifices".

"Sorry Mum, I'm just quite tired tonight." She replied, trying to keep her irritation out of her voice but failing entirely.

"Well then why bother calling me if you didn't want to talk?" Her mum bit back

I don't know Mum, maybe your only daughter wants to speak to you, maybe I want your affection, maybe I'm struggling and need motherly advice or maybe not everything's about you!

Sarah felt like screaming her internal monologue down the phone but she knew it would be pointless. Years of bitter battles had taught Sarah that her feelings only fell on deaf ears, no matter how loudly she expressed them.

"I needed to check what time you're getting here on Friday? Irene's being a neurotic nightmare so I'm being forced to call and double check for her."

Sarah tried to quell the growing tension between them by insulting Irene, which was incredibly easy for her to do. Despite the fact it was Linda's choice to abandon her family for her own selfish ambitions, she still hated Irene for being 'her replacement'. Sarah knew that throwing daggers at Irene was always an easy way to improve her mothers mood.

"Wait this Friday?" Linda asked hesitantly

"Well that was the day I was born Mum, pretty sure you should remember that."

There was an awkward silence on the line, the longer her mother didn't respond, the more Sarah's anger bubbled up.

"Well I just assumed it would be on Saturday night instead. That seems like a way better option don't you think?" The question hung in the air like a blade but Sarah was so consumed by her rage that she could not even manage to choke out a response.

"I've got rehearsals all Friday night, Saturday morning as well." There was no remorse, no apology and no accountability.

"Mum I can't belie.."

"Sarah, please don't start. I have to make my career a priority. If they need me I have to be there. You used to want to be an actress so you should know the whole company is relying on me to be at these rehearsals. I promise as soon as we are finished on Saturday morning I'll come straight to you. We can spend most of Saturday just the two of us. Won't that be a lot better than some stuffy party Irene's planned?"

Sarah had always had a weak spot when it came to her mother. She'd idolised her for so long, even when they fought viciously. Sarah always conceded to Linda's other priorities because she was terrified to lose what little relationship they had. But Sarah wasn't a push over. As her mothers spouted her hollow promise of 'most of Saturday', Sarah was thinking about the defiant girl who had rescued her brother despite all the odds. When did she lose that fire? If she could beat the Labyrinth she could absolutely stand up to her own mother.

"Firstly don't cut me off. I get that your career is important. I have always always got that. But for once in my life it is not about you. I don't want to come second yet again." Sarah didn't raise her voice, she didn't shout but she had a forcefulness in her voice that made it clear she would not be ignored this time.

"Sarah, that isn't fair!" Linda whined back.

"Well Mum, someone taught me a long time ago that life isn't fair. I'm your daughter, you should at least be able to act like a caring mother on my eighteenth birthday. Or don't, because honestly I am done trying. I have put up with your selfishness all my life. I am happy that you've got the life you want now, but you don't get to just wish away your previous one. Either be here on Friday or don't bother coming at all."

"Why can't you understand that I have my own life. You think being eighteen makes you mature enough to criticise me? You do not get to judge me, you're still just a child! I gave up everything to raise you, and now I'm finally where I was always supposed to be. Why can't you let me be hap…."

Sarah hadn't raised her voice, but her mother certainly did. Sarah listened silently until she realised that she honestly did not care what her mother said, so she hung up. A small, childish part had hoped just this once, Linda would choose her. She'd felt idiotic for harbouring an ember of hope. Sarah just let the phone slip out of her hand, not caring as it hit the floor with a clatter.

Exhausted with everything Sarah just flopped straight into her bed, clothes still on, and buried her tear stained face into her pillow. Sarah tried to stop the tidal wave of hopelessness that drowned her, but the tears kept falling. Her guttural sobbing drowned out the sound of flapping wings just outside her window, and the triumphant screech that accompanied it.