Pieces
Based on a second quote from the Sweet Thing/Candidate/Sweet Thing lyrics set: "When it's good, it's really good, and when it's bad I go to pieces".
"You've been picking up bad habits."
I felt Jareth just behind me, the familiar, slightly mocking tone of his voice falling against my skin like winter rain. I took another pointed swallow of my drink.
He leaned over my shoulder to peer at the bottle on the table. "I take it back. I would never drown my sorrows in ginger-flavored currant wine. You've clearly reached a lower deep in your wallowing."
"Jareth."
He paused at his name, his breath warm in my ear.
"It's bad this time."
His fingers settled on my shoulders. "I assumed."
"There's no way to get them back. None."
His fingers tensed for a heartbeat against my skin. "And you know this for sure?"
"All paths back closed. Permanently. Unless we want Creation to destabilize. Strangely, the Powers That Be are loathe to risk that a second time."
He took a slow breath, got a glass, and sat down next to me. "You'd think they'd have more trust, given our track record."
"Interestingly, that was the very reason they gave for not trusting us again."
He poured himself two fingers worth and topped off my glass. "Well then, it seems your immediate plan of self-flagellation via alcoholic stupor is a fine one. Mind if I join you?"
I clinked my glass against his. "Never. Faerie godwatcher prerogative and all."
His lips twitched in a half-smile. "You learn to take your small pleasures where you can."
"Even when everything's fallen to pieces?"
"Particularly then."
