Linda found herself at that damned door once again. The face of the stone girl, lips curled back and teeth clenching the ring, brought vomit to Linda's mouth. How had she not noticed before how much she looked like Sarah? She knew her daughter lay within, in the putrid fantasy. Why had Jareth put her there? Her mind was a mess.

She tore forward and ripped the door open, making the knocker-girl scream and the ring to drop free. The actress paid this no mind, her feet were on fire and she needed to find Sarah. Inside the room was dark, her daughter's toys floated aimlessly at Linda's ankles and Sarah…

A small pale creature lay on the floor in the center of the room. The skin of this thing was white, so void of color that even the darkness could not touch it, so it seemed to shine. But it was stretched over angry, protruding bones. In the face cheek bones stuck out like two sharp moons, the eyes above were like dark stars, sinking back into the head under the shadow of a long bright forehead. The mouth on this face was a hollow hole, into which there lay a blackness that spoke of years of hunger, decades of nothingness. Sharp, jagged teeth poked out of black gums and sprouted up in many different directions, their decay evident from the black and yellow colors that dominated them. To crown the face was a long wiry net of black straw, which grew from the skull in sporadic unclean clumps.

When this creature spotted her it made some sort of strange yelp. A thin hand, whose nails were nearly gone, came out from the mass of body and reached for her.

"Mom?" This next yelp was a legible word.

"Baby!"

"Linda?"

"No, baby! No!" She shot upwards. The creature recoiled and vanished away into the darkness, the white skin melting away, off of black bones.

"Linda!"

Her boyfriend's face was what she saw next, confused with sleep and worry. Linda lay back on her pillows, watching the ceiling in relief and trying to gather her lost breaths.

"Was it the nightmare again?" Jeremy's hand came to comfort her in the dimness, squeezing her own. She could barely feel it.

"Yes."

A month had come and gone before Sarah, in her meek mortal mind, had time to calculate its days. Had her days not been filled with her friends, she was certain, they would have been horrible. Once she had discovered how to come and go from her room she had earned leeway into any room of the castle that she could enter. Not all doors were easy to venture through, she learned, and some locks had no keys.

The days became routine and went something like this: A morning of breakfast tea and sweet fruit with Hoggle, who informed her of the current day's planned activities. One day they had a lovely walk through the upper chambers of the castle, where she had never been and met the Upper Goblins, who resided there. Among them were some of the ugliest chamber maids and little servant-men, all of whom were more talented in destroying the upper chambers than cleaning them. With Sarah and her friends they made a mess of one of the loveliest sitting rooms Sarah had ever seen. It was as though it had been painted in a book and brought to life, with its fine furniture, rose colored lamps and paintings. All of which was happily destroyed within the course of an afternoon.

Lunch for Sarah was usually something small: a roll, or buttered bread, some jellied toast and cold turkey or fish. Her only time alone, and away from her friends, was in the hour before dinner. This was when she would bathe and dress well. She spent most of her daytime hours dressed in jeans and t-shirts, which were provided in her closet when she expressed need for them. However, she would dress in one of the many beautiful princess gowns made for her and select jewelry to match, for dinner. Though no one had ever told her she felt the need to comply with Underground fashion when she went to dinner, for even though the table was now filled with goblins, Hoggle, Ludo, Didymus and any number of Labyrinth folk, the king still sat at the opposite end. And he was never unfashionable.

When she really considered it all she began to realize that she was not unhappy. Perhaps not happy, but not unhappy either. There was a pleasing adventure to be had every day with her friends and a guarantee that Jareth would not say or do anything to her at dinner with the room packed with furry what-nots, and flammable whose-its.

With this in mind, she was greatly nervous, one evening, when she came into the dining hall to find it disturbingly quiet. The Goblin King stood waiting at her seat, which was not unusual for he usually pushed in her seat for her. His attire though was different: a leather suit and coat, vacant of jewels or bedazzlement of any kind. Even his hair was different, pulled back and tied up with a black ribbon. She realized in the back of her mind that she had never seen his forehead before.

"Where are the rest of our dining mates?" She asked, even though she was sure she knew they weren't coming.

"I requested that tonight we would have dinner alone, precious." Was the only reply.

Tucked into her seat she watched, in silence, as he walked to his own place and sat down. Their food appeared and she began to eat, feeling awkward. This silence continued for a long while into the meal until she heard Jareth put his utensils down and clear his throat. She dropped her fork in response.

"Well?" He said, leaning back in his seat.

Sarah blinked in surprise. "What?"

"It has been quite some time, Sarah." He said, folding his hands together. "And I was wondering if you have had enough time to consider what I may be offering you."

"Oh," She slumped. She had been dreading this. The king was always expectant, waiting for her to offer back anything when he gave her something. She did not approve of this give-and-take behavior.

"I wonder," He stood. "If the time that has passed has done any good in opening your mind to me. Remember, I have given you a great life here. Any common Fae might dump you anywhere and forget you."

"Is that supposed to be a threat, Jareth?" She had never called him by his name before, and the utterance of it brought laughter from the king's mouth.

"Never a threat. I am trying to persuade you." He could not seem to calm himself, bending slightly at the waist he clutched his abdomen and laughed at her whole-heartedly.

"What is so funny?!" Sarah stood and her hands came to her hips.

"Nothing precious!" He croaked. "Please let me collect myself."

This took much longer than what might have eased Sarah. Now, her pride was stinging.

"Jareth." She said, this time projecting her voice. "I have not forgiven you. You imprisoned me, lied to me and held me against my will."

"Redundant, darling, imprisonment and holding you against your will are the same thing."

She could have smacked him. But touching him was dangerous.

His smiled faded from his face and he stood up straight. When he spoke, his voice was so gentle and serious Sarah could feel tears in her eyes and her skin warm.

"Sarah, I love you. Pathetic as it may be I have chosen you. Perhaps our families were connected for a reason. To bring us together?" He smiled a little.

Sarah did not hesitate this time. She sprinted across the room and smacked him. Winning her forgiveness was one thing on its own. But she was certain now that he was willing to spin any lie to break her strength against him.

"You are not good." She said. "And I will not fall for some soul-mate garbage. No one is made for anyone and is never just… But…" She was losing words, but she felt he could understand what she meant. She backed away from him, hand s shaking and stared darkly into the fire, frowning so deeply that her forehead ached.

He replied with more calm than she ever could have imagined him capable of. "You are correct; no one is made for anyone. That is why when we find someone we want we have to try."

He stepped in front of her so his body blocked the fire. Her eyes found themselves staring at an amulet around his neck. The same he had worn many years before.

"Sarah." He said. "Are you listening?"

"Yes." Her voice was a cracked, mild whisper.

"I want you. I may not know about love, but I know of wants and dreams. You were such a sweet baby, and could dream so early. So, I cheated and bent the rules to force you to be mine."

"If that is supposed to be some kind of apology it doesn't make any sense."

"It's not an apology." He said.

"Oh."

"Hoggle, I need to get out of here." In her chambers later that evening Sarah had changed into jeans and a t-shirt and was furiously packing a bag. Since Jareth had not provided her with any form of luggage she made one out of the skirts of a large gown. In this she tossed a few ever-watchers, some food she had taken from dinner after pleading with the king to let her take it to her room and lastly a book. The book may have been a silly addition to the bag, but she needed something that had a good smell to it, a wholesome inanimate thing to hold.

The dwarf was only staring up at her with imploring eyes, his hands coming up to shake awkwardly about his face every few moments. He was almost stunned free of words.

"I think I know the way out of the Labyrinth," Sarah was saying. "I ran it once; I'm going to do it again…"

"Do ya' even know the way out of the castle?" Hoggle gasped.

This put her at pause for a moment but then she shook that anxiety free. "Don't worry, we can do it. Hoggle I have a serious question."

"What?" He was wincing, rearing up for the severity that was on her face.

"Will you come with me?" She didn't know what she was doing. She had no way of knowing what Jareth had told her about Aboveground was true or not. She wanted to believe that she could somehow return. And there was one person she wanted to return to…

"Of course I will." His answer made her smile. She leaned down and kissed his head, then turned away so he could blush.

"Okay, my plan is simple. Most doors open for me in the castle and there has to be one that leads outside. To a garden or something."

"Yes, there is! Jareth had me stationed there every now and again. Take care of fairies and such." Hoggle said. He helped her finish her packing and soon the pair had readied themselves.

Sarah truly swelled with joy for her friend, willing to step away from the life he had known to venture with her into uncertainty. The evening was quiet while they waited, eagerness making them jumpy.

In the end, Sarah had one decently filled pack, which could be slung over one shoulder and rest on her hip. She tied the ends of the torn skirt to make the sling secure and sat down with Hoggle at her small tea table. As the night trickled into the wee hours and any hustle that may still have been happening in the castle was finally bustled out the two stood.

She put the fire to rest and slung her make-shift back over the jacket she wore. She felt similarly dressed to her first run, a long sleeve shirt, jeans, little loafers, but a jacket completed the outfit and warmed her. Running a finger across the wall she found the door that led out and took Hoggle's hand.

The hallway was dark, but Sarah could see clearly the sleeping goblins scattered here and there about the floor. One was slumped in a pile of hair, presumably attached to his body and was snoring loudly. His comrade beside him was sleeping with his eyes open, only confirmed when the sneaking pair stepped nervously past him and waved their hands over his beady black eyes. Around these sleeping creatures they tip-toed carefully until they finally managed to find a hallway clear of any.

Alone, it was safe to try a door. As Sarah expected it creaked loudly and she was happy to have waited until all goblins were confirmed asleep and away. Behind this door, they found a narrow hall, different from the main passageways they had been using. Its walls were not stone, but red and velvet looking. Sarah reached to touch it, but Hoggle shook his head disapprovingly and she dropped her hand.

When he wasn't looking she reached up and ran her fingers across the wall as they walked. It was smooth and silky to the touch. It was enough to make her sigh, to feel something so real under her skin.

Jeremy walked through his apartment door, arms full of two bulging grocery bags, keys hanging precariously off one finger.

"Lin?" He called, kicking the door shut behind him. Dropping the bags on the kitchen counter he poked his head into the hall to call again.

"Hello?"

A muffled sound, so soft he almost missed it came from the bedroom. He stepped carefully toward the door, half open, calling Linda's name.

He found the room in disarray. The blankets were stripped from the bed and the pillows were un-cased and laying in a pile. And Linda lay on the floor in the center of it all, hair knotted and clothes rumbled and even torn in some places.

"Linda, what's happened?" He fell to his knees beside her, panic making him shake. He was steady enough to lift her up to him and cradled her like a baby.

Pushing the hair away he found her face pale and tear-soaked. She stared up at him with horrified eyes, so green an emerald would be jealous.

"Please, what's wrong?" He begged. He buried his face in her, beginning to cry. His Linda was breaking and there was nothing he could do to repair her. When he left she was asleep peacefully, the television she had been watching humming delicately. Now, she had done some kind of harm to herself.

While he sobbed he felt her hands move to hold his face, his own arms growing limp. She brought his face up and he was held captive under her stare.

"She's coming." She said and thrust something into his hand.

It was tiny, and soft in his hand. When he looked he felt another shudder of sobs shake his body in confusion. He held in his hand a tiny tuft of red velvet.