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Falling --COMPLETED	By : jinx1764 Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 10231 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth, don't make any money, this is a work of fanfiction.

Chapter List
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Holloway became worried when Fixer's time in with her brother went over her usual hour visit, and decided to check in on the two, see how they were doing. Cracking open the door, she peeked her head in and saw Fixer curled on the floor in the fetal position while Toby paced around her, muttering.
"Fixer?" she called, the too-thin younger woman didn't stir. Holloway crept inside, shutting the door behind her, and approached the siblings cautiously. Toby was unpredictable at best, often lashing out when surprised. She gently edged past his path but he tripped over her foot, releasing a howl of frustration. Toby's fists struck Holloway faster than she could defend herself and she shouted.
Sarah jerked awake and leapt up to grab his wrists. "Toby, Toby stop!" Straining, he moan out his anger and tried yanking his arms free. "No, Toby, stop it!"
Holloway scrambled back to the door, pinching her bloody nose. "Fixer, watch out!" Toby changed his stance and head-butted his sister before she could shift out of the way. The bone-on-bone crack sounded loudly in the small room, nearly drowning out Toby's growl. Stunned, Sarah stumbled from him a few steps, holding her head. Holloway watched Toby crouch and rear back for another attack, teeth bared, hands clawed.
"Shit!" Sarah yelped when Holloway grabbed her collar and dragged her backwards to the door the same time Toby lunged. He missed her by inches, banging into the padded wall while Holloway shoved Sarah outside and followed, slamming the door shut and locking it.
Huffing, Holloway slumped face-first into the door, rolling her head towards Sarah. "What the hell was that all about? He's never been violent before."
"I … I don't know," Sarah said through trembling, blanched lips as she leaned her back against the wall next to Holloway. "When did he start acting differently?"
Holloway sniffed and wiped her nose, the blood flow easing. "A few hours ago. I started to come find you; that's when I heard you and Sam were in with the new guy, so I came back."
"Jareth," Sarah whispered, running a hand through her long hair, once glossy now dull.
Holloway pushed off the wall. "That's his name? Jareth?"
Sarah sighed, resigned, her shoulders drooping momentarily as she stood. "Yeah."
"Hey," Holloway lightly touched her arm, "you okay?"
Sarah's arm jerked and her eyes focused on the doctor. "Fine," she said, then pushed past Holloway for the exit. "Watch him. I've got to do something."
"Sure," Holloway said as an afterthought as Fixer raced from her quarters as if the Devil himself chased her. Shaking her head, she scrounged her cabinets for a spare towel to clean her face of dried blood, then mumbled into the thin cloth, "No problem, Fixer."
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Jareth frowned. After their oddly enlightening conversation, Sam had led him several levels down into the bowels of the complex to what he called, "the commissary". Simple instructions followed, such as: grab this, hold that, stand in this line, point to what you want and keep moving, then Sam departed leaving Jareth to fend for himself. That had been some time ago and Jareth had yet to commence with any of Sam's directions.
Meanwhile, a line of raggedy people trickled around him. A few gave him the evil eye, but most merely accommodated him with shrugs and mutters. He supposed his upturned nostrils and arched brows at their stale reek and dusty, soiled appearance earned him little regard. So be it. I have little choice in being here, but I need not pretend to enjoy the experience.
"Hey, you gonna eat any time soon or just hog the line?"
Sneering, Jareth turned to the voice behind him. "Pardon?" Hmm… The one he recognized as Chet scowled mightily, lining his heavily tanned face with deep grooves and removing any hint of friendliness.
"I said," Chet leaned around Jareth, thrusting his arm at the limited selection of food arranged cafeteria style, "you gonna move. Or. Eat?" Bystanders ceased shuffling down the line and all attention focused on them.
Chet's demand raised his hackles. He might be required to accept Sam's bluntness, but not this person's. Jareth did see, however reluctantly, his blocking of traffic's natural flow was of little benefit; and the gruel-like food hardly appeared appetizing— being warmed and served in their small metal containers, no reason to tempt him. So why did his stomach rubble so insistently at the foreign aromas? Perhaps because my last meal consisted of that horrid bar of dried nuts and twigs…
"Look, Goblin King," Chet said, stepping around him. Jareth narrowed his eyes and growled, unwilling to give his place in line on principle (certainly not because he desired to consume anything these humans cooked). "Oh, now you wanna eat? Huh?" Chet made a sweeping motion with one arm as he half-bowed. "Well, please, continue!" A smattering of applause followed Chet's pronouncement, galling Jareth further.
"You are disrespectful," Jareth paced closer, nose-to-nose to the shorter man glaring up at a sharp angle, "and infernally rude."
"I'm what?" Chet thrust his chest into Jareth's personal space. "I saved your stupid hide!"
"By abducting me?" Jareth's arms bend up with elbows out, hands resting on his hips.
"He did bring you to Sarah, inadvertent or not," his father whispered in his mind, which he deliberately ignored.
"You would'a froze out there!" Chet poked a finger at his chest, barely grazing Jareth's tunic.
Eyes blazing, Jareth stepped back and swept an arm around. "And this existence is better? I would have preferred freezing." He felt their audience charge with ire, all directed at him. They might accept their diminished circumstances, but they didn't like having their faces shoved in it any more than he did.
"You ungrateful bastard!" Chet lunged. Jareth smoothly sidestepped his clawed fingers, leveraging Chet's slim body weight away with a two-handed push. Chet stumbled, cussing and twisting about. "Why you—."
A harsh blaring throughout the complex stopped Chet's advance, his head jerking up as his fighting stance relaxed. Jareth's hands flew to his ears, protecting them from the piercing shriek burrowing into his brain. "What is that?" he shouted.
"Shit," Chet said; Jareth hardly heard him over the noise. People scrambled, shoving and pushing from the commissary while the cooks hurried to save and store the food. "Defense alarm," Chet replied, yanking Jareth behind him as he raced with the rest of the crowd. Forgetting his pride in the confusion of pain and shouts, Jareth willingly followed him.
"Defense against what?"
"Vultures." Chet rolled his eyes at Jareth's blank stare of ignorance as they ran side-by-side through the wide halls. "Pirates, thieves, all 'round evil-doers. Don't you know nothing 'bout the No-Where?"
"I'm afraid this is my first excursion to your lovely vacation spot," Jareth replied. "Where are we going?"
Chet smirked. "My fave place, the armory."
"Weapons, then? We prepare for battle?"
"Oh hell, don't tell me you never used a weapon before?" Chet asked, then with a sour twist to his face, added, "You ain't one of those pacifist kinda kings are ya?"

Jareth puffed up and arched a brow. "Indeed not! I am well-versed in all manner of weaponry and battle."
"Good," Chet nodded and clapped him on his upper back mid-jog, "good, you're gonna need it."
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The shrill alarm startled Sarah, causing her to slip on the stairs. One hand on the metal railing, the other flat to the concrete step, she caught herself from falling. The defense alarm hadn't sounded in nearly two years. They'd successfully warded off Vulture attacks for so long she'd nearly forgotten what the ear-splitting alarm sounded like, and being in the stairwell did her eardrums no favors.
"Fuck, what now?" She ran up the last flight and rushed out the heavy door into the main entrance, reducing the alarm's volume but throwing in her the barely controlled chaos of the residents running, shouting and generally preparing for battle. Damn it, so much for finding Jareth and grilling him on the perfect coincidence of his arrival and Toby's violent behavior. But I'll deal with you later, Goblin King.
For now, defense took priority and that meant tag-teaming up with Sam at the armory. It's were all the main leaders of the complex gathered during emergencies. All other residents knew their assigned defense positions and either carried their weapons or stashed them in protected areas.
Once at the armory, she could get a look at the external cameras, see what they were facing before she and Sam could choose one of their preplanned defenses. As long as they kept the Vultures outside the guard shack, they could hold out for months, possibly. Sam had made sure they stockpiled as much non-perishable food and water as they could locate over the last several years. In case of emergencies, he kept the four hundred or so residents on a strict daily ration, so they could hold out. But others wanted what they possessed, and would forcibly take it.
Skidding around the last corner, Sarah dashed into the armory already bursting with the usual people. Her stomach dropped and her hands fisted.
"What is he doing here?" The crowd swung towards her cold question, including Jareth's strangely impassive face.
"Not now, Fixer," Sam said. "We need every willing hand." Snorting, she stomped past an unsettlingly quiet Jareth, who went back to speaking with the scavenger, Chet, while Sam's son, Len, hovered near them like an over-eager puppy. They were inspecting the weapons rack and Sarah refused to picture the Goblin King armed with an M-16.
"I hardly think one more will make such a difference …" she trailed off when Sam pointed to the screens monitoring the outside perimeter. He didn't need to give details; the horde scaling the barbed wire wall, a few already working on the main door, was explanation enough. She gulped down the bile suddenly burning the back of her throat; it stuck partway. "Fuck me," she whispered.
"Yeah." Sam nodded slowly, meeting her eyes. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of." That one phrase and his anxious look ripped up her old scars again, twice in one day. Only Sam knew what she'd endured, saw her as anything but stainless steel.
Instantly, her inner wounded teenager surfaced. "B-but they can't get in here … can they?"
Heavy sigh and slumped shoulders from Sam. "Nothing's impervious, you know that." He gave her a half smile. "We had a good run. Better than I expected."
"A good run?" Pain filled each word just as tears tingled her eyes.
He reached out, whispering, "Sarah …"
"Don't!" She pulled away, face and voice hardening. "Don't say that. Don't give up now, Sam. Not after everything we've gained!"
He shook his head. "Gained? What've we gained?" He pointed to Jareth, who keenly observed their interaction, along with everyone else in the room. "He's been our first bit of hope, ever, and you won't even talk to him!"
"That's not fair," she said, strained. "You don't—."
"Isn't it? You think we could just hide out here forever? Think the Vultures would just forget about us? About you?" Sam punched a storage room door, the partial board crumpled beneath his broad fist. "It was always a matter of time before they tried again, with a greater force." He shrugged, then said in a resigned voice. "It's what I would do, if I were them."
"So that's it? You're giving up?"
Sam's harsh laughter stopped everyone's breath, gasps then silence. "Hell no. I say we take'em out with us." Cheers echoed in the armory, except for Sarah and Jareth who exchanged a tentative look filled with temporary truces and uncomfortable questions.
- 11
- 12
- 13
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Falling --COMPLETED