Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

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
- 16
- 17
- 18
.
.

Chapter 17

.
.
In the end, Sarah decided allowing Chet to guide them to the well was worth the delay. They had chanced using some of their water to bathe and needed to replenish their supply otherwise they'd never last long enough to save Toby. Chet took the lead and veered off to the left with the three of them following, Jareth bringing up the rear again.
She resisted checking behind her every few minutes, knowing Jareth walked in a similar pace due to his thudding footfalls. He hadn't complained to Sam about being struck in the head and Sam hadn't apologized. But Jareth hadn't spoken more than five words to anyone since he gave his dramatic friends vs. enemies speech which had left her shaken, and convinced that the Vultures brewed more than kidnapping her brother. But what?
If Jareth hadn't shown such odd concern for her, she'd think him part of the plot. When he murmured those last words to her and caressed her face, his eyes boring into hers … there was a twist in her gut and a fluttering in her chest.
He meant it. But now…
She felt his withdrawal from them, from her, like a losing a hand you could sense but couldn't see or use. Jareth's presence pulsed at her periphery like that—a phantom limb—raw and tender but sort of healing. Why did she suddenly care? Two days ago she would've cheerfully exiled him to the No-Where, but now… She wondered he felt as confused as she did. Maybe more, being far from home. A pang of what she knew used to feel like sympathy flipped-flopped her heart, and she remembered the other words he said to her.
"Other half"—I wonder if he meant what I think he did. And if so, why does it feel … right? And why is he avoiding me now? I thought we agreed to be friends. Why does it matter?
Her teeth caught her bottom lip, worrying it. Ever since THAT DAY years ago (which her mind always capitalized no matter how much she tried to diminished it) she'd had trouble forming normal relationships with people, specifically men. Sam was the only man she felt completely comfortable with, but he was more like a father or an older brother. Romantically, men weren't blips on her radar, not when most were either dangerous or useless. But Jareth…
The tang of her blood surprised her; she'd bitten through her lip. No one noticed while she wiped the dingy cuff of her sleeve over the small incision, then licked her tongue over the wound. What is it about him that is so different from other men? Why do I feel like this around him?
She hadn't lied earlier. Though it did frighten her, it also sparked sensations she'd never imagined existed. When he grabbed her, bound her to him and spoke in his gruff voice, it strummed a chord she hadn't known dwelled within her. It ran from the base of her throat to those same deep-clenching muscles her flashbacks triggered, but without the pain and fear, just tingling, liquid warmth. What did it mean?
I wish Karen was here. She'd tell me what to do.
Physically she might no longer be a virgin, but emotionally … well … The Shove didn't give teenagers time for proms and healthy maturation. Combined with THAT DAY, Sarah didn't exactly date or even bother viewing boys as anything but trouble. That went double for fey.
"Stupid Goblin Kings," she mumbled, not noticing Jareth's chin jerk up or his strained expression before he returned to staring at his boots kicking up the dust from their resolute strides.
.

jsjsjsjsjsj

.
They approached what used to be a large farm house nestled against the edges of the foothills. Cautious, they spread out and moved in slow while alert for danger. Even with the majority of vegetation choked and cooked by the sun, leaving the land barren of easy camouflage, skeletal remains scattered about as potential cover and hiding places.
Empties rarely hid, wandering alone in the open until they dropped of exposure or starvation (another reason why the pack was so unusual – they weren't known for their social skills). Still, carelessness never ended well in the No-Where; usually it just ended with death or maiming, or maiming progressing into an agonizing death as unwelcome highlight. Well, you get the idea. One had to be on guard at all times or sqeeck!
The three story house now possessed lop-sided one and half stories. A large fissure ran near the foundation, and gaunt, weathered piles of what looked to be the other one and a half of the house lay in haphazard piles nearby. While Jareth guarded outside, Chet, Sam and Sarah performed a quick but thorough search of the residence, clearing it of danger. Few objects of usefulness remained and no people, at least, no one alive. The bodies were old and dissected, having been there for months.
Gathering in the front yard, Sarah held her weapon with its butt resting on her hip, muzzle in the air. "I don't know, Chet. Those people didn't look like they died peacefully."
"I never said they did."
She gave him a sharp glare. "What happened here?"
Chet pointed to the fissure splitting the ground, threatening the last of the house clawing at the ground. "That happened …'bout a year back."
"The quake," Sam muttered.
"Yep, the quake. We got through it clean enough but they didn't."
Toeing the edge of the yawning stripe, Jareth's booth knocked clods of dry dirt into it. "The ground is unstable as well?" he asked as he leaned over, watching the chunks spiral down to the absorbing pitch.
"Everything's unstable," Sam said. "Or haven't you figured that out by now?"
Jareth turned; the three stood in a horseshoe several feet away, awaiting his response. "Well, I have now."
Sarah stepped forward, reaching out, her weapon slipping to her side. "Don't stand so close to that thing; you're making me nervous."
"Afraid I might fall in?" Jareth smirked and shuffled one toe closer.
"Afraid I might be tempted to push you," she said, grabbing his upper sleeve and yanking him away. "Come on, let's get to the well."
"It's 'round back," Chet said, leading the way. Sarah and Jareth walked side-by-side while Sam trailed behind this time. No one spoke, instead keeping their attention for any unexpected danger while the old fashioned well came into sight.
"Crap," Chet tugged on the slack rope, metal wheels squeaked in broken, rusty protest, "the pulley system is busted." He leaned over the stone edge. "The bucket is still down there and I don't think it's coming back up."
"Fixer?" Sam gave her his usual look of expectation. They'd danced this two-step so long neither needed conversation; Chet stepped back, understanding, while Jareth furrowed his brows as Sarah moved from his side.
With a heavy sigh, Sarah slipped her rucksack and M-16 off her shoulders and laid them on the ground, leaning them against the well. Grayish-yellow dust puffed up around the edges of her olive drab bag, speckling the fabric. Her weapon escaped most of the dust by being taller and leaner, but end of the black metal and plastic were lightly dulled.
Sam eyed the antique contraption, stretching to fiddle with the damaged pieces. "Simple fix, right?"
Sarah reached up, trailing her fingertips along the crusty metal wheel. "Sure, it's just mech."
"What are you doing?" Jareth asked, approaching Sarah's opposite side.
"Remember when I said I could fix things?"
"Yes." A grim smile twisted her lips, sending a strange bolt of dread through Jareth. "You don't enjoy the ability?"
"Enjoy isn't quite the word I would use," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's … painful sometimes."
"Then why do you do it?" Their hands were flat on the well's edge. His smallest finger touched hers while he studied the inside of the dank hole. Neither heard Sam move away.
She shrugged and her smile turned wry. "Who else is going help?" Her finger didn't shrink away but neither did it curl around his. Jareth wasn't sure how he felt about either result, but tingles surged over his hand while confusion muddled his thoughts.
"Does it harm you?" he asked, his finger involuntarily twitching.
She turned, facing him, taking away her lovely finger and crossed her arms, robbing him of the minute contact. "Other than discomfort, no." Then she laughed and it grated. "Suddenly worried about me, Goblin King?"
Taking quick steps back, Jareth glowered at her mocking tone and jutted his chin. "Don't be ridiculous." He waved one hand at her imperiously. "Well? Get on with it." He didn't notice how her eyes flashed for a moment before her smile thinned and her face drooped slightly.
"Of course, Your Majesty," she said, rubbing her palms together like so many hack stage magicians before The Shove.
"It's about time," Chet mumbled, then yelped when Sam nudged him in the side. Sarah gave them both an evil glare while Jareth arch a brow.
"Can it."
"What?" Chet whined, nursing his sore ribs.
"Just leave her alone, alright?"
"Yeah," Chet grabbed his bag and stomped away, "whatever."
.

jsjsjsjsjsj

.
She never liked this part, warming objects up, which was way she made sure to keep things in working order so she didn't have to fix from a dead state, easier that way. With her hands limber from the quick friction, Sarah took the rusted, broken pulley system in hand, reaching up to brush her fingertips along its surface.
The barest touch was all she needed to feel what was wrong with something. Even though most of this was visible, she still needed to feel its structure in order to know how to fix it. Closing her eyes, she allowed the pulley to merge with her skin, its essence mixing with hers. She didn't know how it worked or how she did it, only that once she'd accidentally fixed things years ago (after she'd un-fixed the Vultures) it got easier the more she concentrated.
The world fell from her as she became the pulley and it became her. She understood how it felt to be rusted iron, being eating by the elements an atom at a time. Corroding, converting, flaking, she felt her surface drying and the wind taking it, shrinking her, corrupting her until she could no longer serve her purpose, hanging useless and forlorn.
REVERSE … REPAIR … HEAL …
The command pulsed from a deep place inside of her, flaring through her arm to the pulley. The metal warmed and the rough, metal paper softened pulling back to itself, smoothing and bonding. Sarah felt it knitting into its original form, oxygen flying back into the atmosphere where it could sustain or damage as it chose. Then the warmth strengthened into heat, blazing, scorching back up her arms. Eating, chewing, grinding at her flesh …
Someone pulled her away, her hands pried from the metal, melted skin stringing like cheese.
Eyes open, mouth agape, Sarah screamed.
.

jsjsjsjsjsj

.
For many long minutes, Jareth watched Sarah stretch up and grasp the pulley and do … nothing. Without his magic, he didn't even feel her fixing this object. Assuming it's working. Time marched; she didn't move and still no sense of magic or indication of improvement.
Finally he turned to Sam. "How long does this usually require?"
Sam was already scratching his chin. "Hmm, not this long ,'specially not for something simple."
Chet walked up behind them, huffing in annoyance. "She's not done yet?"
"We were just wonderin' the same thing," Sam said over his shoulder. "I mean—hey Jareth, I wouldn't walk," Sam grabbed his shoulder, "OW!" then yanked his hand back, waving it back and forth in pain. "What the hell?"
Jareth felt heat enveloped him, hotter than the No-Where; it sent his mind to distant places. No escaping it, he decided to deal with it directly, this source hammering him until only he and it existed. Only a few feet separated them now, he could reach out and touch the irritant stripping him. Rid himself of this discomfort, this imbalance.
"Stop," he commanded, not understanding, only forcing. His fingers clawed into something soft covering something firmer and he pulled it toward his chest until the weight of a person knocked him backward and they fell and a woman screamed and he woke.
"Sarah? Sarah!"
She laid atop him, unconscious, her palms reddened with skin blistering along her fingers. Jareth cringed with pained sympathy as her hands shook and curled inward reflexively. They weren't blackened or bloody though; he knew enough of healing to be grateful for that. Sam and Chet run to them, helped him ease her to the ground as he slipped out from under her.
"What happened?" Sam asked, digging in his bag and withdrawing a roll of white bandages and a tube.
"I-I don't know." Jareth cradled her head in his lap, hands repeatedly smoothing her crinkled brow and gently combing her hairline. "Has this ever happened before?" Sam and Chet both glared at him with looks of—are you nuts? "I see," Jareth added in an embarrassed mumble.
"How'd you know to pull her away?" Chet asked. He held Sarah's hands still while Sam spread some clear goop over her palms, then spiraled the bandages around them.
"I didn't." Their work paused as they looked at him. Jareth ducked his head, uncertain how to answer and hating the feeling. "I didn't even realize what I was doing, only that something was … unbalanced and I had to stop it."
Sam resumed working. "O-kay, then."
"You don't believe me?"
"It's not that," Sam said, shaking his head. "I just don't know what to think." Jareth gave him a sharp, questioning look. Sam sighed, finishing the first aid with Chet and laying Sarah's hands on her torso. She didn't wake.
"Look, Jareth." Sam sat back on his haunches. "Ever since you got here, things have been going cross-eyed with Fixer."
Gritting his teeth on a retort, Jareth schooled his expression to blandness. "I mean her no harm."
"I believe that! I'm the one who wanted you to stay. Hell, you just saved her." Sam pointed to Sarah. "But she's never needed saving before, not when she's fixing."
Jareth strived to regain his regal tone, while his fingers continued stroke her hair. "Your point?"
Sam stood and paced, a frown twisting his mouth as he rubbed his face. Chet and Jareth watched him circle for several seconds, creating a large dust cloud, before he stopped, his mouth dropping open. But instead of answering Jareth's question, Sam paused, his eyes going to the pulley still dangling above and behind them.
"Oh, fuck…" his shoulders slumped, "it didn't work."
Chet jumped up and spun. "It didn't what? Sonna-bitch!" He threw his weapon and rucksack to the ground, kicking the dirt over both. "We're fucked! Fucked!"
Keeping Sarah's head in his lap, Jareth glanced up and around until he comprehended the problem. The pulley, it remained broken as if Sarah never attempted to fix it. He closed his eyes, hands fisting lightly in her surprisingly soft hair and listened to the men's ranting as he contemplated their circumstances.
We have no replacement water.
- 16
- 17
- 18
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Falling --COMPLETED