**WARNING** Epic length - you may require snacks**
Chapter title courtesy of Eric Howden/Raised by Swans.
nothingnothingtralala has declared this chapter a new unit of measurement. All things henceforth will be compared to its length. *cough* Annnnd the first thing I thought of was Jareth's pants, definitely a chapter 20. Right. There.
"Jareth."
She said the name aloud with no real expectation. He couldn't come here, her words had seen to that, but every day since she'd left the Labyrinth she had called his name. Sometimes it gave her comfort, but mostly she was just afraid of forgetting; the thought of forgetting his name again frightened her more than she could bear. It would be like forgetting a part of him; something that was essential to his character, whatever made him not just a Goblin King, but Jareth.
A month had passed since that day: longer for him, she knew. She had felt every second of it slide away without managing to dull the despair which threatened to overwhelm her. Infinitesimal time stretched out before her, a lifetime without him, and she had absolutely no idea of how to make it right.
"Sarah."
She looked up. The sun shone in her eyes and she raised a hand to shield them. The hulking figure moving towards her had a cheerful air about him; it looked like he'd put on some weight since she'd last seen him. Now he stood before her, the sun setting behind him, and he was a stranger.
"Bruno," she said, fixing her fake smile into place.
Sitting, he pushed a coffee in front of her, lifting the lid on his own to empty the contents of a sugar packet into the aromatic mix.
"It's officer Bradbury, actually; just call me Ray though."
"Sorry, of course, Ray." He would always be Bruno to her though; some things just couldn't be altered, not even with truth.
"Thanks for coming," he said, waving her off when she pulled out her purse to reimburse him for the coffee. "I know it's been a difficult time for you and your family."
"I knew I'd need to give a statement or something eventually," she admitted, "but I thought I'd need to come to the station."
"That's procedure," he agreed, "this one is a bit off the books to be honest. Technically it shouldn't be me meeting you either, conflict of interest and all that, but they were a bit understaffed and I offered. I figured you'd be uncomfortable in that sort of confined environment with a stranger."
"You thought you'd be the better option?" she asked, dropping the smile, her cheeks aching from the effort.
"Well, not exactly… let's call it personal curiosity. I do still need to record this conversation and take notes though, if it's all the same to you."
Sarah nodded consent. She'd known this interview was coming ever since she'd regained consciousness in the mortal realm. She'd been lucky to avoid it this far.
"Thanks," he said, laying out the tape recorder, a pad and a pen in front of her. He took a quick sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. "So my understanding is that you were found in an abandoned building two days after Carl's accident."
"That's right," she confirmed. "I woke up in an unused building, alone and unhurt."
"Can you tell me how you got there?"
Sarah wrapped her hands around her coffee, warming them. "Not really."
Ray made a note in his pad. "Okay, we have witnesses that put you at the Manse on the day of Carl's accident; it seems you definitely met him there. The two of you entered the rooftop restaurant, which he had booked out for a private function, and sometime during that period of time in the restaurant he made contact with one of his underlings by phone. Do you have any idea of the subject of that telephone conversation? What did he say to you that day?"
"He was waiting on a call to confirm whether or not I had won the lottery…"
"Which you did not," Ray interjected.
"Right," she feigned.
"Was he angry at you?"
"I don't know, I didn't talk to him once the conversation was finished."
"What did happen after that?"
I lost everything.
"I don't know. There were drugs there, I think. He might have put something in my drink. I can't remember anything after that until I woke up in the abandoned building."
"That's a long period of time, Sarah," he said doubtfully. "You really have no recollection of anything that happened during that period? What type of drug do you think he used?"
"No, sorry, I really don't remember," she lied. "I don't know what he gave me, all I know is everything went black pretty quickly."
"Can you tell me anything about the drugs, size, shape, colour?"
Sarah shrugged, smiling bitterly. "They tasted like peaches."
Ray frowned, scratching his head. "What really confuses me is why he had you playing the lottery at all. You had some luck with those first scratchies… that really was quite an impressive fluke I must admit. But then you didn't win anything in that next batch, yet he still had some mad idea that you could predict winning lottery numbers?"
Ah, the unfortunate downside of wish reversal, weird complications and situations which don't make sense.
"What can I say?" she smiled sadly, "perhaps he was a bit unhinged, I was just happy that I didn't get sent… elsewhere."
Ray nodded. "Obviously we wouldn't have let that happen, Sarah, we'd been monitoring his group for some time."
But I didn't know that at the time…
Ray frowned, and Sarah realised she must be making a very bitter face. She guiltily sipped her coffee. It wasn't right to be angry with him; he was just doing his job.
"I am sorry, Sarah," he said. "Sorry that I couldn't tell you, that I couldn't break cover and-"
"Forget it," she interrupted, "I don't blame you, you had orders and you had to consider your own safety."
He gave her an uncomfortable look. "I'm told you've refused trauma counselling services, I really do think it's in your best interests to speak to someone about the ordeal you've been through."
I really don't. They'd put me on drugs if I tried to tell someone about what I've been through, or lock me up.
"I'm thinking about it," she lied.
He smiled as if satisfied with her reply. "One last thing before I let you go, Sarah," he said. She noticed he picked up the tape recorder and switched it off as he spoke. "Those first winning scratchies, was there some trick to it? How did you make them all winners?"
Sarah gave him a poignant smile as she stood and picked up her coffee, swinging her handbag over her shoulder. "I used to be really lucky," she said.
She threw the lukewarm coffee in the bin on her way home from the cafe. She couldn't stand to choke down any more bitterness right now. As she walked through the front door of the house she was stopped by her little brother's accusatory eyes in the entry way.
"You're late!" he snapped sullenly.
"Sorry," she grinned apologetically. She hadn't really expected her outing to take quite as long as it had; she should have been back before dinner.
"You said we were gonna work on homework stuff," he sulked, kicking at the new runner Irene had laid in the entrance.
She nodded. "We still can, champ, let me grab a sandwich or something and I'll meet you in your room, okay?"
He brightened immediately, turning and running upstairs. Half-way to the top, he stopped, turning back to her. "Sarah," he called.
"Yes?"
"Get me one too!" he grinned cheekily. Sarah ducked her head to hide a smile. Irene would have already given him his dinner, but this would be their little secret.
Later, as she passed her brother his ham and cheese sandwich and started on her own, she sat down on the floor in the middle of his bedroom with a sigh.
"So what are we looking at today? English, maths?" she asked, wiping crumbs from her lips.
Toby gave her the stare he always used to let her know she'd asked something unreasonable.
"Sarah," he groaned, "it's Thursday, Thursday is the day we do your homework."
Her heart sank. She wasn't sure if she could deal with this today, but she had promised. "Okay, okay," she agreed half-heartedly. "Where were we up to?"
Toby was the one person she had told about her journey. In all her life before she had never told him about that stormy night when she had wished him away on a whim, not with herself as the protagonist. He had forgiven her all too easily for wishing him away, only saying that it was 'cool' that he was part of a real fairytale. She had tried not to make the story scary when told in its entirety. She had left out the prediction of their father's death, Carl's perversion and the state she'd found her friends in. When she had finished the tale with her parting from the Goblin King he had remained quiet for only a moment.
"We need to make it right," he had said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
"It's not that easy," she had replied tiredly, "let's not talk about it anymore tonight; you've got homework to do."
"So have you," he had responded in earnest.
Now her brother was giving her a reproachful look, worried about that same homework. "You don't want to?" he asked.
She smiled at him sadly; homework wasn't going to fix the gulf between herself and the Goblin King.
"Do you…" her brother gulped, "do you still blame me for what happened? Is that why you don't want to do it with me?"
Sarah's eyes widened, realising what her brother was referring to. "Toby, no!" she cried, "This isn't your fault. I chose to go with Carl that day, you aren't to blame."
"It was my fault, Sarah," he whimpered. "They were going to take me but I didn't understand what was happening. Then the next thing I know they were taking you and nobody would tell me what was going on." Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, breaking her heart.
"Shhhh," she crooned, cuddling him around his half-eaten sandwich. "It wasn't your fault at all; I made that choice all on my own."
"But if I hadn't been there…" he sobbed.
"Then it all would have happened exactly the same way," she reassured him.
'But I'm supposed to protect you."
"Hmmm, why is that?" she asked.
"Cos I'm a boy," he wailed.
Sarah smiled into his hair, giving the top of his forehead a kiss. She had forgotten – this homework wasn't really for her, it was for him. This was Toby's way of trying to make things right, and it made him feel better to think he was helping.
"Okay," she said after he had calmed down. "I really do need your help, nothing has worked so far and I still need to get myself an audience with the Goblin King so I can tell him off properly!"
Toby let out a wet giggle, dashing the last of his tears away. Jumping up excitedly, he rushed across the room and over to his bed. From between the mattress and the base of the bed he pulled an overly large scrapbook which had been slipped between the two. The words 'Sarah's plan' were scrawled across the front in his childish hand. Eagerly he flipped through the pages to an almost indecipherable series of scribbled sentences with big crosses through them.
"You tried saying his name but it didn't work;" frowned Toby seriously, drawing another cross through something which had already been crossed out. "What about making a wish?"
Sarah sighed. "He won't come; it was part of my winning conditions that he couldn't come even if I made a wish."
"Okay," sniffed Toby, looking at his list. "I tried wishing too but it didn't work."
Sarah froze, looking down at her little brother. "You did what?"
He returned her stare guiltily. "I just thought if it was me he might come."
Sarah's hand shook as she reached across and pulled her baby brother towards her. "Toby," she whispered, holding him close. "Don't do that sort of thing, okay? If you got hurt I…"
"He wouldn't hurt me," interrupted her brother, wiggling out of her arms. "He's a good guy."
Sarah sighed shakily. "I know, I know, but you didn't see how angry he was, Toby."
Her brother pouted at her sulkily. "That's just because he thought he got tricked by someone he loved and he was feeling hurt."
"We…" Sarah faltered, "I don't know that he does love me."
Toby snorted. "Of course he loves you; he did all those things for you!"
"It's more complicated than that," she replied weakly. "He doesn't really understand what love is. I think he was just indifferent to me, all he had was a desire to understand it."
Her brother gave her a blank stare.
"Oh," said Sarah, "indifferent, it means that he doesn't feel strongly one way or the other, not love and not hate."
Toby rolled his eyes. "I'm almost nine Sarah, I know what indiffidents is," he lied.
"Of course you do," she smiled, feebly, tousling his hair.
"You're the one who's stupid," he grumbled. "It's so obvious that he's in love with you, even if he doesn't know it himself. Nobody really understands love, you just do it, it's just something you feel. Both of you are really dumb because you keep trying to figure each other out without just trusting what you feel."
She laughed; her baby brother now seemed so sage with his eight years of wisdom.
"See," he said, holding his pencil up above a fresh page. "I'll start another list, 'why the Goblin King loves Sarah.'"
"Oh yeah," she said dryly.
"One," he announced, "because she's pretty."
Sarah snorted back a giggle, trying to look resolute and convinced.
"Two. He came and granted your wishes when he didn't have to. He even let you change one a bit."
Sarah, remember this, remember that I was generous with your wish in the future. No matter what comes of your wish I hope you can remember that much at least.
She sobered slightly, that was true… but he'd asked for something in return...
"Free," lisped her brother. "He got angry when you got hurt and tried to help you."
…What he'd asked for in return was information on how she'd come to be injured, and then he'd punished Cindy as the one responsible. Then there was Carl, he'd found a way to make things right despite the loophole in her wish. He had even saved her from herself, stopping her when she was trying to burn away Carl's touch. Saving her before the fuath drained all her memories, even protecting her from the shattering glass and cutting herself on it in her blind misery. When she had tumbled into the dream he had taken care of her, placed her somewhere safe and warm, with her things nearby…
"Four. He collected all your stuff and kept it."
…All those things laid out like priceless objects, carefully collected and kept, even the peach pit. Even though he hadn't been able to touch her he had wanted some small part of her, evidence of her existence to treasure.
"Five. He tried to break the magic," said Toby, scribbling in his book.
Sarah blinked in surprise, her reverie broken. She looked over at her brother, "What magic?" she asked.
"Hmm?" he said, intent on his squiggles, "the no power over you stuff."
She frowned, leaning over to catch her brother's hand and stop him mid stroke. "Wait Toby, what are you talking about?"
"He tried to break that magic so that he could see you."
"What? No he didn't," she argued.
"Of course he did Sarah, why else could he see you?"
She frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Her brother gave her a long suffering look and let out an exaggerated sigh. "When he first came to grant your wish you couldn't see him," he explained.
Sarah nodded, not completely sure of where this was going.
"But he could see you, couldn't he?"
"I-" Sarah stopped, could he? It had certainly seemed that way.
"And you could touch him but he couldn't touch you," continued Toby.
She had wondered about that herself at one point. Everything thing else had been equal between them, when she had started that wish the communication line had opened and they had both been able to hear and speak with one another. When she admitted that she wanted to see him she had been able to; but before that he had followed her around the room taunting her… could he have really done that while his vision was 'Sarah impaired?'
"See, he tried to break the magic, but it got all twisted and the senses got all mixed up. Then he could see you but you couldn't see him, and you could touch him but he couldn't touch you." Toby smiled, pleased with himself.
"I don't know…" said Sarah.
"It makes sense, Sarah; why else would it be that way? Maybe he was wrong about those scratch cards too, sure you might have wanted help, but you're pretty brave, I don't think you would sabosarge yourself by accident."
"Sabotage," corrected Sarah, absentmindedly.
"What if you were already missing a little bit of luck because he tried to break the magic and stole it back? Maybe he didn't even realise that he had done it, or didn't understand it."
"But why, Toby?" she cried. "Why would he try at all, even unconsciously?"
"Because he loves you, Sarah, he doesn't know that's what it is but he loves you. He wanted to see you so bad that he unravelled his own magic with another kind of power, one he didn't even know he had, belief."
Faith in a partner.
"That can't be," she whispered. "Why would he believe in me of all people?"
"Sarah," he sighed. "Think about it, he's not an idiot. You look just like that other girl; you don't think he might have entertained the possibility for even a moment that it might actually have been you he was supposed to fall in love with? Isn't that the reason he granted your first wish and took me even though he hates taking children?"
Sarah flinched at the unpleasant reminder of her selfish wish.
"You made a wish and he saw how similar you were to Serra. He granted a wish he hates, so there must be a reason for it, why not that? He watched you run through the Labyrinth and he saw that you were a good person. Sure, you turned him down just as Serra once had, you took back what you'd traded the same as her, but you were still different. Don't you think that even while you were making wishes and events were repeating he was actually hoping for the impossible? He wanted you to be right about changing the future; he wanted you to choose him instead of Carl."
Sarah found she was breathing heavily. "Wait, Toby wait," she puffed. "Just give me a second to catch up, I'm feeling a little bit overwhelmed."
Her brother gave her a smug look and put a big tick next to whatever it was he'd just scrawled across the page. He chewed his lip and started a new line.
"The truth is Sarah, there are so many reasons that he loves you that I can't even fit them all on one page, and this is a really big scrapbook."
Sarah slid down and leant her head back against the bed. She put her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes, thinking.
Could all of this be true? Love wasn't something you came to understand, it just happened sometimes. So what if it had happened to the Goblin King? He wouldn't understand what it was; it would be so unfamiliar because he was fae.
He isn't human.
Why did she keep forgetting that? All of this time Sarah had been expecting him to react to her in the ways that she was accustomed to with her own kind. Kissing – check, Trust – fail. Wasn't it plausible that there were some things he just wasn't capable of, things he'd need to learn to understand first? There was a lot of hurtful history standing between them, not that it was her fault that her doppelganger had been a seriously nasty piece of work, but that hadn't stopped it from happening. There were lots of reasons why he would have thought her final mistake was some new scheme to undermine and destroy him; everything between them had been competition and artifice up until that point.
So what was the answer then? How could she get him to trust her? How could she prove to him that she loved him long enough to cultivate a relationship from which they could both grow to understand one another properly? And how could she get to him to do any of that?
"Okay," she said, sitting up and focusing on her brother seriously. "So I can't say his name and command him, because that will hurt him, and I can't make a wish because he won't come to grant it."
Toby nodded, still scribbling in his scrap book.
"What else is there? Wishing wells, genies, birthday cake, or do I need to wait until Halloween to see if the veil really is thinner-"
"That's the spirit veil," drawled Toby.
"Right," she said, "not where I'm looking to go."
"What about if someone made a wish he simply couldn't refuse?" he asked.
"No wishes," warned Sarah.
Toby stopped drawing for a moment and looked thoughtful. "Well, what about the opposite then, reversing a wish? He said he has to let people do that."
Sarah cocked her head to one side. "I've already reversed them all. I took back the necklace which undid the wish for the scratch cards, so those winnings were all returned. I took back the memory-"
Sarah saw Toby's face scrunch up at the thought, she'd told him exactly what she'd had to do to achieve this, and she knew he thought it was icky.
"- which undid the wish which had won the lottery, refunding money and memories, those winning numbers restored a family."
"There was one more," said Toby pointedly, not meeting her eyes.
"No." She shook her head. "I can't change that last wish back. If that wish is reversed Carl and his group go unpunished, they'll be free to hurt more people. Even though I know I could use it to bring him here…" she sighed. "It's no better than saying his name, it's the same as doing something to make him hate me. I'd be no better than Serra if I made such a selfish reversal."
"What about if you pretended you were going to reverse it but then tricked him instead?" suggested her brother.
Sarah smiled, putting her arm around him. "No more tricks, I don't think it's a good idea to do that. If I trick him he'll think that nothing has changed between us. If I meet him again I have to be honest."
"When you meet him again," he frowned.
"Okay," she agreed, "when I meet him again."
Toby ducked under her arm and reached for his scrapbook again, putting a big cross through something else.
"What about the mirror you talk to your friends through?"
Talked to them through you mean…
"It doesn't seem to be working," she lied. She had gone back to her college dorms to try it, but with no remaining friends to call she'd had little luck. She tried not to think about Hoggle still waiting for her by the fountain, she tried not to think about any of the Labyrinth's inhabitants. Was it now a darker place since she'd left it, stained by her perceived treachery and deception?
Toby pouted, looking annoyed. "Don't you have any other sort of connection there?"
Sarah pursed her lips thoughtfully. "A ring," she remembered.
"The ring!" cried Toby, clapping his hands together. "Does it still work; can you still feel the Labyrinth?"
"I can but… it's pretty weak."
That must be why Serra had managed to live so easily bonded to the Goblin King. If she were in the mortal realm and he were in the Labyrinth then the bond must have felt this feeble all the time; clearly distance played some part in the connection.
"Can you use it?" asked Toby.
Sarah shrugged. "Use it how?" she sighed, exasperated. "I've been trying to use it since I got back but I don't know what to do with it."
"Like twist it on your finger?"
"It's not a magic ring Toby," she told him, "it used to be my mums. The power it has now is… well… it's like a GPS."
"Oh." He looked crestfallen. She hated to disappoint him. "Isn't there some way to make it more powerful so it can show you the way back into the Labyrinth?"
"If we could strengthen the connection then maybe I could find a path between the realms," mused Sarah, "but how?"
"Something to bring you closer to the Labyrinth," nodded her brother, "like the Halloween veil thing but more… Labyrinthy."
"Exactly," agreed Sarah, "something fae."
"How about a toadstool ring? In some fairy stories that's a gateway between worlds."
A ring for a ring.
"Well, it's summer," she replied dryly, "and I can't ever remember having seen a ring of toadstools in season, let alone out of season."
"Hmmm," muttered Toby, sticking his tongue out of his mouth while he concentrated on his book.
"Okay," said Sarah, "let's think about a similar avenue, things which could bring me closer to the Goblin King rather than the Labyrinth specifically."
"Like what," he asked.
"Broken things, lost things."
"Like a lost and found?" he suggested.
"No…" she slumped. It almost felt like she was on the cusp of something but it was just a little bit out of reach. Something elusive and intangible was dancing just outside of her train of thought.
She looked up at the clock on the wall and felt oddly disappointed. It was very late.
"It's time for bed, buddy," she told her brother gently.
"Saaaarah," he whined, "we almost have it figured out!"
"I know, I know," she agreed, crawling over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "It was really good brainstorming, but if we don't rest those brains then we won't be able to come up with anything else."
Toby stubbornly rubbed the kiss off his cheek. "Were my ideas good?" he asked.
"They were very clever," she chuckled, "are you going to be a genius when you grow up or what?"
Toby sniffed. "I'm going to be a race car."
Sarah bit back a laugh, ushering her brother into his bed and tucking him in. "A race car, hmmm."
"Yep," he told her, "a red one."
She grinned, stroking his head fondly. As soon as she left the room he'd be up again, doodling in his scrapbook. The fact that he'd failed to hide it away again hadn't escaped her notice; he was by no means finished tonight. Relenting, she picked it up and tucked it into bed with him. "Here's the deal," she told him, "one more hour with the lamp on, I won't tell Irene, but then you need to go to sleep!"
He ducked his head with an impish grin. "Fiiine," he sang.
Sarah turned off the main light as her brother clicked on his bedside lamp, washing the room in shadows; as she reached the door he called to her name quietly.
"Yes?" she smiled, turning back.
"Do you know when dad's coming home?"
Sarah swallowed, biting her lip. She focused on his bedspread instead of his face when she replied. "I don't know Toby."
Her hands were unsteady as she closed the door behind her; her brother would fall asleep… eventually.
As she started towards her room the floorboards let out a loud creak, as if to announce her presence.
"Sarah?" she heard Irene's hesitant call from downstairs.
"Yes," she answered, following her step mother's voice.
Things had been awkward between them. Perhaps things would always be awkward between them. The situation with her father was not Irene's fault; Sarah had missed all the obvious signs that he was gambling again herself. Irene had not known of the debt or of Carl, she was not to blame, but Sarah still felt bitter.
It had been right of her step mother to protect her little brother, her own son, but neither she nor her father had fought when it was her turn to be taken. She couldn't blame the woman, not really, she knew that Irene was the one who had contacted the police in her own effort to save Sarah, but still it stung that no one had tried to stop what had happened. So now there was a tension between them, a gulf, all too similar to the misunderstandings between herself and the Goblin King. Life had become so complicated all of a sudden; every conversation was on tenterhooks, every look was uneasy. That pleasant night when she would have celebrated her twenty-first birthday with her closest loved ones could never be retrieved.
"Hey," she said, meeting her step mother on the staircase, both of them looking slightly uncomfortable.
Irene had aged from all that had transpired; thewrinkles around her eyes were no longer the familiar smile lines she had always worn.
"There's dinner in the fridge for you… if you want it," she said uneasily, fidgeting. She didn't seem to know what to do with her hands. "Your father," she faltered, "your father wants to see you."
"Oh," said Sarah. She couldn't think of anything else to add to the response and reveal her feelings on the matter; she herself wasn't even sure of what they were. "Are you… are the two of you going to get a divorce do you think?"
Irene paled, twisting her fingers. "I think that will be best for Toby," she croaked. "Until his father becomes a better role model."
Sarah nodded her understanding. Irene had called the police and then, when she had calmed down, she had packed a bag. When her father had been taken into the station to discuss what had happened and what role he might have had in initiating the abduction, Irene had placed the bag outside on the porch and called someone in to change the locks. It was not her stuff in the bag, but Robert's. Her father was now staying in a cheap little motel on the shady side of town.
"I'll go right now," she said.
"Sarah!" cried Irene, "it's very late; why don't you just go upstairs and sleep? Perhaps I shouldn't have told you about it, there's no need to run around at this time of night."
"If I don't do it now I won't be able to sleep," she smiled miserably. No need to tell her step mother that she doubted there'd be much sleep to be found after meeting with him either. Sleep had been hard to come by. "I can't keep putting this off; I need to get it over with." She felt the familiar iron edge to her words and was comforted.
As Sarah grabbed her keys and headed for the door Irene followed, silent but lingering as if she had something else to say. She paused in the doorway as Sarah stepped over the threshold and the positioning sent a shiver up Sarah's spine. She still remembered the unpleasant encounter on that fateful day, her step mother blocking her entrance to the house, Carl waiting behind her. Sarah shook it off as she took a step out into the inky blackness, towards her car.
"Sarah," called her step mother quietly, and she turned back, squinting to see Irene's face under the bright porch light.
"Please be careful," she murmured. "You know I… you know I love you, right?"
Under the glare of the fluorescent bulb it was impossible to make out Irene's face, but Sarah thought she might be crying.
"I know," she whispered back, "I do know." She wasn't quite ready to say it herself, not yet, but she hoped one day soon she would be.
As she drove out to the far side of town she fiddled with the radio station absentmindedly. When Sympathy for the Devil came on she switched it off quickly, air twisting in her lungs until she thought she might choke. "If you're going to haunt me, Goblin King, please do it in person," she entreated.
The motel her father had taken up resident in was a filthy looking place. She was less than eager to leave her car due to the unsavoury looking men lingering in the open doorway of one of the small rooms. There were only seven of the untidy looking structures stacked up like dominos before her, but Sarah knew they must stretch out in rows behind this first line. Luckily her father's apartment was one of these front runners, and she pulled the crumbled piece of paper containing his address from her pocket. Irene had given it to her when she had first told Sarah that they had separated, she hadn't looked at it since.
Thankfully the men in the adjoining apartment ignored her as she walked up to her father's front door and wrapped her knuckles on the hard wood. Almost immediately the door swung open, as if he had been expecting her.
"Sarah!" he cried, and flung his arms around her, drawing her into both them and the house.
She felt herself stiffen in the embrace, rejecting his affectionate display.
The inside of the shabby suite was dirty. There were old newspapers rolled up and stacked in corners, for tracking horse racing, most likely. There was also an old pizza box lying open on a small circular table which seemed to take up most of the cramped dining area next to the kitchen. The box stood empty, stained with oil and coated with strings of dried cheese and loose pizza topping. The house smelled of mould, cigarettes, and laundered clothes which had been left to sit and not properly aired. A stack of cards sat in the middle of the table, next to the pizza box, and it was at this table that her father sat her down.
"I'm sorry, honey, I'm sorry. I know you had to go through a lot recently and I really appreciate that you've come. Irene won't let me come up to the house, even when I told her I needed to see you she wouldn't let me. I know she blames me for what happened but I didn't think things would go as badly as they did. Carl was supposed to be patient and wait until I could get my finances sorted out, but he's an absolute criminal."
Sarah said nothing, watching her father gesticulate while speaking.
"Now there are all these complications. Carl's out of the picture, thank goodness, but the police have been investigating me. The IRS have started calling and saying I need to come in for an interview, and Irene… she just doesn't understand. Have you seen Toby?"
"I have," she replied emotionlessly.
"What did he say? Has he told his mother he wants us to all be together? We're a family, Sarah, you've always understood that."
"Yes," she agreed drily, "I've always understood that."
"Good, good," muttered her father. "You know you're the one person I can trust to stand by me right now, the one person who keeps me on track."
Some people can stand on their own two feet. Some people can be alone for centuries and still be inherently good, still know right from wrong; even when they don't know love.
"It might be too early to talk to Irene," he father continued, "but now we can at least start making things right. I've got a few competitions on the go, a few things to get us started and then, when we've got the capital, we can really reach out and start setting things straight."
How different your son's view of 'making things right' is from your own.
"I'm not sure what you want to get started with, or do you want something to eat first, I've got-"
Sarah cut off his sentence by holding up her hand. If she let this go on any longer he'd have the table piled with papers, that same desperate look in his eye.
"I am not here to fix things for you," she told him.
Robert goggled at her. She knew he must have thought he'd missed something when he began to look flustered. "I just need your luck to-"
"There is no luck, dad," she interrupted, looking him straight in the eye. "We were living on borrowed luck and it was time to return it. I gave it back to its rightful owner."
Her father opened and closed his mouth, then let out a loud bark of laughter. Clearly he didn't believe a word she was saying. "Poppycock," he grunted, "you're my lucky child, you're my-"
"I'm not lucky anymore," she finished.
He stared at her for a long time uncomprehendingly, until he grew angry. "What are you trying to say, you won't help me? You won't help your own father? Do you have any idea of the debt I'm in, the pressure I'm under? Why are you doing this to me?" he hissed.
"You are not a victim," she corrected. "Or rather, you're only a victim of yourself, of your addiction."
He was breathing heavily. For a moment he stood and then sat down again, smacking his hand on the table. "What am I supposed to do without you, Sarah? What do you expect me to do?" he shouted.
"I don't expect you to do anything," she replied. "I'm trying really, really hard not to have any expectations. I hope you'll learn to stand up and walk forward. I hope you'll get help. You're sick, dad, this gambling is a sickness and it's eating you up. I hope you'll find your way back to us, to your family, to yourself."
"But Sarah," he muttered, "I need you. Sarah… Sarah I love you!"
She smiled grimly. "I know you think you do, I know you did. I hope you can again one day, but it's not enough right now, it's just not enough."
As she started to rise from her chair her father grabbed her hand. "Sarah," he panted, "Sarah, I really need this. I'll die without you."
She understood then what the Goblin King had meant. Not every wrong can be righted; the world could not be saved by her effort alone. She understood the Goblin King a little bit better in that moment.
She gave her father a cold smile. "Yes," she agreed, "one day you will die: with or without me."
She didn't cry until she was driving back towards what had once been her family's home. The tidy looking house was now a perfect façade for the shattered lives of those who had, and did, live there. She pulled over as a burst of sobs shook her, pent up since that day he father had betrayed her as a parent. Love: she still loved him, and wondered at the complexity of such a foolish emotion. No wonder the Goblin King didn't get it, it wasn't something you could make sense of. Her brother had been right, it just was.
Swallowing her grief, she took gulping breaths to calm herself, wondering if she'd struck her father a fatal blow or removed his worst vice. Maybe he really didn't have anyone left, but wasn't it he who had isolated himself in that way? She understood now that sometimes people have to face their own actions, had to be punished, even when they are pitiable. "What's said is said," she whispered, before getting out of the car.
She tried not to wake Irene as she snuck up the stairs to her room. It would be just like her step mother to try and wait up for her, and she couldn't bear another confrontation with anyone right now. She was suddenly tired, so tired, and it seemed to be such a chore to change into pyjamas, wash her face and brush her teeth. Instead she simply climbed under the bed covers, swearing to herself that she'd just lay down to rest and then get back up to complete these ablutions.
As soon as she lay down, however, she was wide awake again. Her conversation with Toby played back in her mind, a way to be closer to the Goblin King, if only there were such a thing. He was her one wish, her dream.
Dream.
Sarah sat bolt upright in bed, the tenuous threads of a memory teasing at her.
I am the Goblin King, king of broken dreams and unwanted things; the lost, the forgotten.
He traded in broken dreams, but he dealt in actual dreams, desires. Sarah herself had taken the dream he had offered her, but he hadn't known what it was at the time. But why hadn't he known? - because he'd had no power over her dreams.
No power over your dreaming or waking mind.
Due to the 'no power over her' restriction he hadn't been able to enter her dreaming mind, which was to say that usually he could. It hadn't been currently possible, due to the conditions she had placed on him with her return from the Labyrinth, but it was possible. Which meant dreams could be accessed, and if there was a door from one side then it would make sense that it would swing both ways, wouldn't it? What was to stop her from finding the Goblin King in his dreams? She had the ring which could lead her to him; there were no constraints laid on her, nothing to stop her.
No time like the present.
Forgetting that she'd had good intentions to tidy herself up before bed, Sarah snuggled deeper into the blankets. With the fingers of her other hand wrapped tightly around her ring finger, she closed her eyes. Even if it didn't work, even if she couldn't find her way to him, there were far worse things in life than to dream of Jareth.
She slept.
The tugging on her finger woke her into a dream. She knew almost immediately that she was still asleep, or she hoped she was: flying wasn't something she'd learned to do and if she was expected to maintain it then she was in serious trouble. Floating in the formless grey of her mind she felt the pull again, and let it take her where it would.
Colours floated past as the ring led her; bubbles, sounds and snatches of conversation. When she felt she'd found the spark that was made up of nothing but Jareth she let herself be pulled into it.
The Goblin King was dreaming. Unfortunately, however, it was one of those dreams which emulated life… or at least life for him. She almost felt a little bit disappointed. Reunited, if this was indeed the actual Goblin King and not just her mind's representation, and yet she'd hoped to find herself delving into a dream full of vivid fancy, representing his innermost desires. Instead, it was a room, in his castle, in the Labyrinth – which was somewhat boring by comparison.
He was leaning over something, facing away from her, and Sarah felt both thrill and fear at the sight of him. The ring on her finger pulled and she felt herself flicker in and out of focus in the dream, his dream.
At his sharp intake of breath she looked up to meet his gaze. He was exactly as she'd remembered him, he didn't look more broken, more wretched or destroyed because she was gone. The location told her enough though, her room, the room he had given her. In his hands he held her water bottle firmly, familiarly, hands which had held the many items of hers in this room time and time again. She smiled.
Silence stretched out, separating them. The Goblin King's eyes had flickered with recognition only briefly before a mask of distain had slammed into place. Sarah's mouth was dry at the sight of him: her whole being felt full just beholding him. The last glimpse of him which she had been denied was finally rectified; this being she had thought she might never look upon again.
She felt giddy, she felt half mad. She wanted to shake him, or hug him, or just burst out laughing.
With a dry tongue she licked her lips instead, searching for words. "I'm here to grant your wish," she said.
It just slipped out, a ridiculous thought tripping over her clumsy tongue. The Goblin King's scowl darkened the dream.
She cleared her throat. "That's my water bottle."
She was making it worse. What the hell was she doing? Why could she suddenly not stop herself from saying ridiculous things? Obviously he would be embarrassed to be found holding it, why draw attention to it?
"I thought you gave it to me?" he growled, guardedly.
Sarah coughed. "It's this thing called sharing," she told him.
His lips drew a tight line.
"What I mean is… that's my water bottle..." she repeated, weakly. "Do you remember what you said about genies? Did you know genies grant wishes too? Don't you think I owe you three wishes?"
She'd clearly gone mad. Here she was, finally with an opportunity to be completely honest with her feelings, and the Goblin King, and she'd completely lost the plot. Was she high on dream spice or something, or had she flicked a 'poor humour' switch somewhere without realising it?
"Three?" he intoned, deadpan. Clearly he was less than amused.
"Three," she agreed.
"That sounds terribly familiar," he drawled.
Pausing, he looked her up and down, frowning. "This is a dream."
I wish… well… I guess it is though, isn't it? But I can see why you'd think that…
"It's your dream," she agreed.
"So I'm dreaming about you?"
"Well… it's more like I'm visiting really."
"Visiting from where?"
"From wherever I am when I'm not in your dream," she replied.
He gave her an irritated look. "Are you here, here, or aren't you?"
"Yes," she admitted, "I'm here."
"So what is this? The set up for a new game, three wishes for me?"
"No," corrected Sarah, hurriedly. "It's not a game; I'm not playing a game. I just…"
She realised then, suddenly, in a completely random manner, that she really did owe the Goblin King a wish. "You really do have one wish, you know?"
"So now it's only one wish?" he asked waspishly.
"No, I mean yes. I do actually owe you a wish, I traded it to you, remember? That coin at the fountain? This isn't a game, but you do have a wish."
"Then I wish you would go away," he replied, icily.
"Sorry," she said. "I won't grant that. "
"Oh, so it's picking and choosing now, is it? You've come to grant my wish, but only if it suits your needs?"
"No," argued Sarah, fighting to remain aloof. "I just don't think that's what you really want."
"What I want, what I want, Sarah? You'd know all about that. You like to torture me with it and then rip it out of my hands. What do you know about what I want, Sarah?"
"I want you to be happy."
"I want you to suffer," he spat.
"I already am," she admitted. Life without him would cause her to suffer, it would be empty.
"I want you to be trapped in the Labyrinth forever, away from everything you've ever known; just as I was."
"Okay then."
"In fact," he continued. "It would give me great pleasure if you couldn't even escape from this dream."
"Fine."
He gave her a dark look. "I want everything you've ever loved torn from you."
"Except for you?"
"Yes, except for me!" he yelled.
"Granted," she said.
The Goblin King gave her an incredulous look, finally realising both what he had just said and what she'd admitted to. He began to laugh.
"I see," he replied icily. "So now you love me?"
"Yes."
"Do you really expect me to believe that? What new game is this, or is it a reprise of the old game? That one was ever so much fun."
"Jareth," she took a step towards him, looking straight into his eyes. "I do love you."
A look of pain sliced through his mask before it was quickly hidden. "Do you think that saying that with my name will make me believe it, like a command?" he sneered.
"No, I just want to say it because it is your name. Your name is part of who you are, I'm not looking for power over you; I'm just looking for you."
"And that's proof that you love me, is it?"
Sarah took a deep breath. "No," she admitted. "Because I can't prove to you that I love you, not in some way that isn't going to disprove the notion through its very action. Sure I could tie you forcibly with the ring so that you could see my emotions for yourself, I could say your name and make you stay with me, I could start some new elaborate game which would leave us both raw and agonised, but I'm not going to."
"So you're giving up then?"
"Giving up on love? Absolutely not," she declared. "But I'm done with games and tricks and lies. It's just us now, Goblin King, there are no stakes, no children, no prizes."
"Then what are you going to do?"
"Nothing."
"Then you are giving up," he accused.
"I'm not. I just don't have to do anything in particular. I can see you, in this space I can be together with you, and even though it might not be enough for me it's better than nothing. So every night I will come here to visit you, every night I will love you, until I grow old and die and turn into dust. You will never be alone again because I will come to find you, when you're angry I will soothe you, when you're cruel I will forgive you. I will give all of this freely, I will ask for nothing in return from you, no trade, no favour, no wish."
Sarah felt her voice becoming thick with emotion; she struggled to go on. "That's what love is: a feeling, not a concept. It can't easily be explained or understood, it just is. If I come here every day for the rest of my life I can give you that, and maybe in time you'll come to accept it, even comprehend the complexity of this complicated emotion. It is in everything, a look, a smile, a kiss. You can hate and love at the same time, it's something horrible, and wonderful and completely unfathomable and I'd give up everything just for a chance-" her voice broke and she flickered, dimming within the dream.
"I want to treasure you. I love you, Jareth. I love that you're more than a pretty face, even if you are very easy on the eye. I love that you have a sense of justice and compassion, that you agonise just as much over what your exile has done to your people as to yourself. I love that you're funny, and snide and an absolute stubborn pain in the ass." Sarah felt herself flicker again, or was it the dream that was flickering?
"I love that you've got absolutely no idea what the concept of sharing is, that you're gentle, jealous, and abominable when you're really ticked off. That you cherish the things that you think are precious and try to possess them forcefully in a misguided effort to make them your own. I love that you didn't take the children, that you played the villain just to keep me here challenging your game. I love your capacity for love, I see sparks of it, hints, and you've used it so many times without realising it now. All of this time that foreign emotion you've been experiencing has been love, but it's often so similar or intermixed with others that it's impossible to define."
This time she flickered out for longer, and then again and again.
The dream fades.
"No, wait," she cried, "I have more to say."
The flickering became more erratic, Sarah watched as Jareth flashed in and out of focus, his face shadowed and impossible to read.
"No, please, no. Not so soon, I just found him again; don't send me away so soon!" she pleaded. She was crying now, disorientated by the coming and going of the dream and barely managing to keep her grasp on it. "Jareth!" she yelled, feeling frightened. What if she couldn't find her way back again? What if he tried to stop her?
"I'll look for you every day!" she swore loudly, "I will wait for you every single day, forever! I will find you, Jareth." Her tears had begun to blind her. "I will-"
She woke up.
It was the second time in her life that she'd woken up crying, but this time she couldn't stop.
She was racked with sobs, heaving to draw breath as if she could still finish everything she wanted to tell him.
"Shhhhh," said a coaxing voice, and a gentle hand smoothed down her hair.
Irene. She must have woken her; had she been yelling in her sleep? She leaned into the hand, seeking comfort.
It was still dark. Why had she woken from the dream? Had he found some way to kick her out? Did this mean she'd never be able to see him again? What was she supposed to do if that was the last time? Would it feel like the last time every time they were parted?
"No, no, no," she bawled. Clenching her fists, she drove them into her cheeks as she rocked backwards and forwards.
A hand pulled them away, wiping tears from her face.
A gloved hand.
She stilled, blinking tears away. She could hear a quiet inhale, she could smell rain.
"Don't cry precious," he said.
Just a voice in the darkness: his voice, his hands.
She held her breath, barely daring to hope; sure she must have somehow slipped into another dream.
"Goblin King?" she whispered.
There was a long pause.
"Yes," he replied.
Sarah swallowed thickly, reaching out to take his hand in hers. "Goblin King?" she asked again.
He let out a sigh. "I'm here."
She felt a shudder run up her spine. "You're here?"
"I am."
"How," she whispered, but he didn't reply. She gripped his hands firmly. "How are you here?" she asked forcefully. It could be a lie, without an explanation it surely would be.
"A wish," he said, finally. "I was owed a wish."
Sarah reached up carefully, sure that he couldn't really be there, and brushed her fingers across his cheek. "What did it cost you?" she whispered.
She heard his throaty chuckle, thrilling her with its nearness: "My pride."
She tried to take a steady breath, tried and failed. Her heart was beating itself out of her chest, trying to reach him. She felt like they were on the edge of a precipice, set to topple at a wrong word, a tone, a thought. Everything she'd told him had vanished, everything more she'd wanted to say had deserted her. But oh, how she loved him.
"I woke up, but now I'm still dreaming." A sob escaped her. He couldn't really be here. She had lost him, she had woken up.
"It was I who woke, Sarah," he said. "It was my dream."
Silence stretched between them, buzzing with the energy of their unspoken words, until finally, he broke it.
"I heard you," he murmured; a voice in the dark, a mystery. "Every day I heard you. Every day in the mortal realm, anyway; I learned the schedule and I listened for it. My name, every day my name but never anything more. No request, no plea, no command, just my name."
"Jareth," she sighed.
He took his hand from hers, brushing her hair back from her temple. He leaned in to kiss the tip of her ear. She closed her eyes even though the room was already pitch black, leaning in to him. She was in that first hotel suite again, listening to the voice of an invisible Goblin King, waiting for him to appear.
"I don't know what I feel, Sarah, I don't know if I'm capable of the emotions you're hoping for. I'm not a mortal and I'm not a fae anymore; I'm a villain, in exile from my home and people. I don't know if I can make your wishes come true, I don't know if I can give you what you want-"
"You're what I want," she interrupted. "Only you, I don't need anything else."
The Goblin King's fingers continued to steadily circle her scalp, soothing her, sending shivers up her spine.
"You don't understand what you'd be giving up," he said. "There are no promises between us, I can't tell you what you want to hear, I don't know that I'll ever be able to. I can't see our future, my future, to give you any reassurance."
"It doesn't matter," she smiled, tears still falling from her lashes. "I have faith, I believe." Carefully she laid her head on his shoulder, nuzzling the space that was no longer high necked shirts, but warm skin meeting hers. She listened to his sharp intake of breath as her lips brushed his throat.
"You love so freely, Sarah, to try and give me your heart," he uttered huskily. "Even though I cannot stop myself from doubting you and hoping in equal proportion. There is so much love here which you might give up for nothing. What of your family?"
"I choose you."
"And when they forget you?"
"They will be okay. They will be better than okay, actually," she told him. "Toby will not be haunted, blaming himself for the events that transpired with Carl; they will never have occurred. Irene will have her son, perfect and whole, what more could a mother ask for? And my father…" She took a shaky breath. "My father will be the heart of the family again, a flawed man, yes, but not a man led into temptation by a power that should never have been mine. By no means will he be perfect, but that family, I can see them, and they are strong together, they are complete, even without a memory of me."
The hand he'd placed around her tightened slightly, like a reflex. He was shaking.
"Is this sympathy again, Sarah: sentiment? You are ever a martyr for the downtrodden." His words were harsh but his voice was tender. "Do you sacrifice yourself now to fix what you perceive to be broken? Do you think I want your pity, do you think to come to me and save that perfect family at your own expense?" It was an honest question, full of doubt and worry, full of fear.
"No," she said. "A thousand times no. Here, in the dark, with only your voice is more than enough. If this is forever I will take it. I do not look to them in finding my own happiness, I'm not trying to right any wrongs. This is my one wish, my heart's desire; it is all that I am. Everything I have seems a small price to pay, even for a whisper of you. Doubt me; be suspicious, refuse to take me with you, it changes nothing. I will find you in that dream and be happy with nothing more than your shadow, if it's you."
He let out a sigh, as if sorrow itself could be exhaled from his lungs. She felt his lips press against hers lightly, a feathery soft touch. They were curved into a smile. His arms came up around her protectively, but he felt more vulnerable than she had ever been.
"What is it you wish for, Sarah?" he asked.
She could feel tears welling up in her eyes again; her chest was so tight she could barely draw breath. Her voice when it came was so hushed it was almost inaudible.
"All of my heart's greatest desires must be granted freely, and they are more dear to me than any wish could ever be," she whispered. "But now, right now, I wish the Goblin King would take me away with him."
A gloved hand came up to cup her cheek. "My name," he said, "is Jareth."
A/N: Ummm so... I hope some of you are reasonable satisfied? We still have one left to go. I tried to put a lot of love into this chapter as I got an outpouring of emotions in your last reviews, a few death threats and even some brownies.
Thanks as always for your support everyone!
Lots of you were expecting Toby to be wishing Sarah away, but at this point in time I doubt any of you are surprised when I do something completely different ;D
You guys bashed 200 reviews over the head (and then some).
DeerShifter had a good idea for the 200 review gifting: "maybe a view of Jareth and Sarah's relationship from the point of view of several different outsiders, with each outsider only having part of the whole story? For example, Sir Didymus holding it up against the standards of courtly love, Toby trying to make sense of it all when he still thinks kissing is icky, Karen thinking this isn't quite what she meant when she suggested Sarah start dating, etc. The review present could be the reviewer getting to choose which characters they want to hear from."
StakeMeSpike04 was number 200... until I realised I still had a bunch of unconfirmed guests reviews waiting for approval... so Shireen - it's actually you! The good news for everyone is that this means I'm now doing at least two of these - everybody wins!
StakeMeSpike04 has requested a Jareth POV just after the last set of events with Serra - what happens next to Jareth/Serra/Matthew?
Shireen, since you're a guest I can't message you to ask what you'd like to see, but if you're interested pop it in a review and I'll hook you up!
Now I did say at least, didn't I? Truthfully I'm feeling guilty, all of you helped me get to the big 200 so you should all get something. As such I've put a poll up on my profile with some possible side stories from the main story. If you're interested and there's something you want to see check it out and vote, if any get an insistent number of votes on one/several I'll consider adding them to the mix.
SarahRose29: Nope, you haven't missed it! I was going to put a small mention in the epilogue (next chapter) but think I will now move it into the short story requested by StakeMeSpike04 - so if your curious check it out. Hoping to have them up at the same time as the final chapter.
Bee-cee-kay: Aw, thanks for your glowing review. I sprinkled a bit of everything into this one too, so hopefully since you enjoyed the last one this one was just as good (with a nicer ending)
Getsunohimesama: Ahaha I don't know about the rest but the raw purple beans sound kind of appetising, are they magic beans? Hoping I've made you a happier camper with this chapter, if not bring on the fire and brimstone. Jareth sort of referred to the 'eternal dreaming' when he said once the dream ended she should just be moved into a new dream (since when one desire is fulfilled another is found) but it wasn't overly obvious so sorry if that one left you wondering.
J Luc Pitard: Nothing like some distance and a problem solving almost nine year old to the rescue. Who needs Jareth's magic anyway?
Deer-Shifter: Yes, yes and yes. As you see it's all there. Thank you so much for your story idea! Totally running with it, kudos to you!
arynwy: Now we reached equaldom (hopefully) and I'll be honest I've made no plans for that tossed ring as yet... although it just feels like an accident waiting to happen, doesn't it? Maybe I can retrieve it in one of the side stories...
Jetredgirl: Almost there...one more *dies*
Morefindiel: How could I not with all that clapping? Hehe yes it's nice to see a pronounced Jareth effect on our Sarah, isn't it?
Smiles1998: Was it worth brownies? I mean there's one more left but... Not that I'm giving them up now anyway *hogs brownies*
Wudelfin: *Makes soothing ocean sounds*
Obsessive360: Whoops, sorry, this chapter was also chocked full of complicated feels, it's what I live for.
Shiroikami: Hey, nobody proved they took those horse! You might be totally innocent... geez maybe I should have added the gypsies to the side story options... they deserve their day in court...
StakeMeSpike04: Grats on the 200, I'm on it!
Honoria Granger: Safe? I hope you're not still lost, if I've failed to explain something well let me know!
Shireen: Wooooo other reviewer number 200! Not sure when you'll see this but if your interested in sweet rewards let me know!
LingeringSentiments: Let me help you down from there and put you somewhere safer, Sarah's room in the castle, perhaps? Glad you liked the fluff!
qiana: Psssh you saw right through me again. Absolutely, happy endings and understanding doesn't come that easy - it's something they need to work at. The epilogue will be set some time into the future so we can see how they've progressed. You missed nothing and saw all *spooky* I just couldn't resist fluff and build up before pulling the carpet out from under everyone ;D
JennaSoprano: Yup, totally withheld that happy ending, I apologise for nothing mwahaha!
UltimatePhangirlZoe: I don't know what 3333 means, but I suspect its: OMG HURRY UP AND UPDATE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT DGIDGBDJKBDJK! Thanks for your review, hope you enjoyed this one.
Willownightwolf: *Pats head* all better now.
Kaytori: Yup, he can choose which wishes he grants, but then the wishee has the right of reversal - he has no choice in that. So to reverse her wish AND keep her alive he had to reorder time, poor Jareth. Matthew will be in the side story, you'll get to see what happens to him soon :)
Points, you're the only one who mentioned Jareth's outstanding wish! Lots of guesses on Toby though. No plans for a sequel since I'm planning a different project after this, side stories, however, are another matter.