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Falling --COMPLETED	By : jinx1764 Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 10232 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth, don't make any money, this is a work of fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Sarah stomped down the spartan passageway leading from Sam's office. Random residents, unwilling to meet her death glare, cleared a path for her ire by squeezing to either side of the cinder block walls. She was used to it, or better to say, they were used to her sharp moods and knew to steer wide of Fixer on a rampage.
Ignoring their silent, false deference, Sarah kept her black thoughts to herself. None would understand even if she tried to explain anyhow. Who here ever heard of the Goblin King besides her? Who understood his responsibility in causing The Shove better than her? Or his culpability in her friends' deaths?
Hoggle...
His name pierced her heart, made the old pain fresh again. She hid the spasm in her chest before it caused her steps to falter. Emotions made one weak and weakness killed. Apparently no one noticed, but why would they when they deliberately looked away.
Never again; I'll never love anyone ever again.
Beyond her control, memories of that horrible time bubbled up like The Bog. Later that night, when Hoggle realized they were trapped, he frantically scrabbled at her vanity mirror reverted back to its normal, mundane state. His over-sized, gnarled fists had banged on the glass as he cursed Jareth for being a back-stabbing rat bastard. Eventually, time silenced Hoggle's curses. But Sir Didymus had defended his king until his very last breath months later, saying "His Majesty must have his reasons", while Ludo's mournful wails grew weaker each day they were unable to return home.
Tears welled in her eyes recalling all the exiled party-goers. How their confusion had quickly switched to betrayal, then pain as they comprehended their plight. Without a way back to the Underground, death would come swiftly to creatures borne of magic. And she, Sarah Williams, witnessed firsthand the excruciating wasting disease which struck them all over a period of weeks for some, months for others. Ironically, explaining to her parents why two dozen plus magical creatures hid out in her bedroom became irrelevant because The Shove started the next morning. Her father and step-mother were the first victims, though she didn't fully understand it at the time.
Coming to the end of one passageway, Sarah pushed through the steel re-enforced door and down the concrete stairs. The walls were painted the same pukey color as the rest of the compound, and a few of the lights flickered as she descended. She made a mental note to check the connections later, along with her never ending list of other maintenance chores.
Anything to keep my mind off the past. It rarely worked, however. Once one memory replayed, others followed.
Next, her parents' faces drifted up, twisted and burnt, suffering in eternal pain. Her eyes prickled again with more held-back tears. Alone in the stairwell, she stumbled to a stop midway and collapsed against the wall. The cool, coarse surface snagged her shirt, lightly abrading her back through the threadbare cloth.
Don't think about them, please not now… But it was too late. The flashback hit her full force.
…"Toby? Toby!" she yells, racing from her bedroom the morning after the victory party. The house jostles violently again, knocking her to her hands and knees. The walls warp and shimmy, flashing to transparency then normal, back and forth; it strains her eyes, makes her dizzy. The house jerks left then right, reminding her why she woke and why she needs to reach her brother.
"Toby…" she whispers and pushes to her feet. Her head swims; she fights the lightheadedness. Teeth grit, Sarah stumbles forward, arms outstretched for balance. She has to keep him safe; she just won him back. Her parents won't understand the magic; only she knew who they dealt with.
"I won't let him take you. Not again…" The bucking floor doesn't slow her run to her parents' bedroom, leaping and jumping until their door was her last obstacle. Flinging it open, she stops in the doorway at the horror occurring feet away and gasps.
"Dad? Karen..?"
Standing over Toby's crib, partially reaching for their wailing son, her parents cling to each other as they scream. Green flames engulf them, sparking from the air, swirling and licking like a serpent. Gagging and sobbing, Sarah watches the conflagration crisp their nightclothes and melt their skin in seconds as they struggle to stretch for her.
"Saaarrrahh…" they cry out in one, pain-filled voice. Amidst thickening, oily smoke, her parents crumple to their knees, shrieking, and fall to ash. The house continues to thrash and the flames dance but she's frozen … until the flames jump to Toby's crib.
"NO!" Lunging over the gray pile – smaller than one could imagine for two human beings—she brushes past the strange, prickly heat of the flames, feels it burn her arm, and scoops Toby from his fate. He clutches her, his chubby fingers pulling at the collar of her nightgown, his tears wetting the thin cloth as she runs from the bedroom. She's running for safety, panting…
"Fixer, you okay?" Someone grasped her shoulder and shook her from her day-mare. The sensation of Toby in her arms fades abruptly, though his crying still echoed in her ears, along with her parents' screaming. Sadly, she never did find out what happened to her real mother and after everything she considers Karen her mom. Concrete and cinder blocks came into focus around Kelly, one of the compound's older female residents.
"W-what?"
Kelly frowned and squeezed her shoulder. "Maybe I should get Doc…"
"No," Sarah shook her head clear and pushed off the wall, "I'm fine."
"You don't look it." She dropped her arm from Sarah, her eyes narrowed.
"Really, don't bother." She straightened her fatigues and finger-combed her hair, then smiled. "Besides, I was heading that way anyhow." Kelly didn't look convinced, but didn't argue as Sarah backed away through the lower level's exit.
"Your daily visit?"
"Yeah, of course…"
"Well … just be careful on the way there," Kelly said as Sarah slipped through the heavy door without a backward glance. Heaving a sigh, Kelly shook her head and muttered, "We can't afford to lose you."
.

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.
Near the end of his abbreviated tale to Sam, as he was explaining his trip into the Aboveground, Jareth stumbled over his words and cringed. Sharpness cut through his mind, blurring his thoughts until he grunted and dropped the empty tumbler. The thick glass shattered on the floor at the same time Jareth's hands encompassed his temples.
"Ugh!"
Sam jerked upright from his slouched position, almost dropping his own glass. "What's wrong?"
"Light..." Jareth squinted tightly. "G-green … pain…"
"Jareth?" Sam stood, cautiously moving closer.
As quickly as it started the pain abated, taking the nonsensical images with it, and Jareth exhaled in relief. His shoulders drooped, his tense muscles released with a snap, and he allowed his hands to fall away from his face. "Good gods," he whispered.
"What the fuck was that?"
Jareth raised his head to see Sam crouching in front of him, an uncomfortable looking position for the bulky man; it conflicted with his concerned look. "I don't know."
"Looks like you had one helluva a headache."
He nodded. "With a bit more, a vision of sorts."
"Huh, this ever happen before?"
"Not to me, though I've heard tell of some of my kind having visions."
Swirling what was left of his scotch, Sam pursed his lips for a moment. "Make any sense?"
Jareth chuckled sarcastically. "No, but then few things have since I met Sarah."
"Yeah, she's an original, but she's useful."
"Yes, well, I apologize if my opinion differs," Jareth said dryly.
"Look," Sam straightened to his feet, "after what you've just told me, I understand why you feel so bad against Fixer, but," he used his hand still holding his glass to point at him, "let me tell you a few things that might change your mind."
"I doubt you can ever alter my opinion of her. She's wreaked far more damage than you can imagine."
"Don't be so sure. Get comfortable." Sam pointed to the couch. Jareth groaned as he pushed up off the hard floor, cold joints protesting the extended time immobilized. Concrete was not conducive to comfort, though he already knew the couch wasn't much better
"You wanna another?" Sam asked from the open cabinet, bottle in hand.
"Quite definitely."
Sam laughed. "I figured. Good thing a have a spare glass." After he handed Jareth a second scotch, the office chair released its usual squeal when Sam reseated himself. A few bracing sips, then Jareth settled his head on the back of the couch, slouching into the collapsing curve of the back cushions.
"So." Sam started. "By the time I met Fixer, she'd already been on her own 'bout a year, which was 'bout ten years ago."
"Eleven years?" Jareth jolted, head shifted upwards. "It's been so long?"
"Whada mean?"
"The Shove," Jareth sat upright, body earnest and leaning forward, "it happened eleven years ago?"
"Yeah, I just said that."
Jareth sat back, looked at the ceiling and frowned. "Intriguing…"
"What?"
"This may seem difficult for you to comprehend, but the story I relayed to you took less than a week to bring me to your presence, yet it's been so long for you … and Sarah," he added as in afterthought, drinking slowing.
"Whada does it mean?"
Shrugging, Jareth met Sam's intent gaze. "I'm unsure, but I wonder at the accuracy of naming it The Shove."
"Well that's easy. Some scientist on TV talked 'bout how the Earth got "shoved out of alignment". How all its poles and fields or some such were out of whack. That was the best theory I remember from TV, then the electricity stopped working." Sam studied the wall for a minute. "That was … oh, 'bout two months or so after it all started."
"All electricity ceased to function?"
"More like everything stopped working." Sam's voice turned soft and sad, his eyes distant. "Everything started changing overnight, like a wave of destruction spreading from the east coast of America outwards to the whole damn world." Growing silent, Jareth listened as Sam talked about his personal experience of The Shove.
"No one understood how it started or why, and no one could figure how to stop it. I remember watching the sky fracture and the sun burn. The cities failed, civilization died and some people became … animals." His voice cracked on the last word and Jareth saw how his jaw muscles bunched and spasmed for a few seconds before he continued. "At least the ones who still had minds; most just drifted away."
"Empties…" Jareth whispered.
"Yeah, them." He sipped his drink then stared down Jareth. "You know, I still can't decide which is worse. Turning animal, scratching to survive like us or becoming an Empty. They're all different kinds of death, one's just sooner than the others."
"You lost loved ones," Jareth said bluntly.
Sam didn't flinch, didn't even blink. "We've all lost loved ones."
"Of course…"
"Which is why I'm so interested in this fix of yours."
"No," Jareth shook his head, "it's too late."
"But you said—"
"The stone is gone!" Jareth snapped. "She destroyed it!"
Sam's mouth hung open. "So that's it?" he asked desperately.
Jareth's harsh laughter echoed in the office; he pinched the bridge of his nose and tucked his head to his chest. "Have you no inkling of what's she done? Your Fixer has extinguished the final trace of magic from your world. The hope I carried here to end this … this apocalypse to our worlds is gone!"
"But … but that can't be." Sam slumped in his chair, arms hanging at his sides.
"Oh it most assuredly is."
.

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.
"Hey, Fixer, you're late today." Doc Holloway opened her door to a fidgeting, bland-faced Sarah.
"Got distracted by the new survivor Chet and Len brought in."
"Yeah, I heard there was some hoopla earlier." Holloway stepped aside, allowing Sarah in her triple-sized office/dorm. Holloway was the only one with such large accommodations because of her status as the compound's medical doctor; therefore she required extra space to treat patients. She also had the only room considered safe to hold Empties before determining what to do with them, back when Fixer used to try to help them.
"Yeah, big crowd, lots of fuss." Sarah avoided Holloway's astute eyes, afraid they'd peel her faster than a hardboiled egg. Her stomach growled at the thought of a fresh egg. Their last chicken died last year and none of the scavengers had been able to find another.
"Is he going to work out?"
"Who?"
"The new guy?"
"Oh, um, I don't think so."
"Really?" Holloway led her to the far back room. "That's too bad. He sounded interesting."
"We don't need interesting. We need stable, practical, useful."
Holloway's eyes sidled over her shoulder and caught Sarah's before she looked away. "If you say so, Fixer."
Coming to a single door with a small square window, Holloway paused to withdraw a set of keys from her pants pocket. As she slid the a key into the lock, she said, "You should know, he's been acting odd today, more active than usual."
"How so?"
"Won't stop pacing and muttering." The lock clicked and Holloway swung the door outwards to reveal a scrawny teen frantically walking in tight circles. His arms and legs trembled inside his ragged, stained clothing. Blond hair stuck up in rough cut patches on his over-size head balanced on a wasted-away neck. Sarah took two hesitant steps into the small padded room, then looked back at Holloway, eyes stormy with barely controlled emotions. Only Holloway saw her like this.
"Let me know when you're done," Holloway said softly, respectfully bowing her head at the distressing scene.
Sarah nodded, lower lip caught between her teeth. Steeling herself, she turned around, as she heard the door shut and lock with a quiet click/snick. Taking a deep breath, she approached within an arm's length of him. He didn't notice her or stop pacing.
"Hey, Tobes. How you feeling today?"
- 9
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- 11
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Falling --COMPLETED