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Every Thrill has Gone
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Mentally kicking herself, Dee watched Jareth's breakdown on his balcony on her fake television in her personal retreat. Her little song and dance with the Goblin King hardly went as well as she hoped. Belatedly, she realized she left out a few key points during his emotional upheaval and her own urge to get it over and done. She couldn't help it. Jareth unnerved her, always had, why she avoiding talking with him the first time around. It was humiliating to be so unsettled by a being technically below her.
'But he's not really lesser than you, is he?' She told herself. Jareth's cumulative power over his centuries' long life nearly rivaled hers, and once his health returned goddess retaliation might be on his top ten to-do list. Considering fae healed remarkably fast, a few days remained before his full magic restored.
Not known for his
forgiving nature, Dee easily envisioned the Goblin King stalking her until the metaphorical doomsday. Assuming, of course, he didn't outright kill her, or transform her into something distasteful and toy with her for a bit. She shuddered at the thought. Even gods tended to stir clear of mightily pissed off, exceptionally strong creatures of magic.
She really needed to fix this...soon. Besides, seeing the once commanding Goblin King diminished by the combination of his and her actions tore at her conscience. And,
yes, ancient goddesses possessed scruples, superseded only by strong senses of self preservation.
"Well, isn't this a pickle," she mumbled to herself, round three hundred and fifteen of Jareth and Sarah damage control. One of these times they'd all get it right and live the fairy-tale happily ever after. She hated dumping Gerard's memories into Jareth's head like an out of control freight train, but circumstances dictated its necessity, and he'd thank her in the end. Once they fully integrated with his mind that is, and he didn't lose his sanity (a teensy-weensy possibility).
But...there was nothing for it. She needed to face Jareth again before he did something rash and made things worse (a much larger possibility), not a confrontation she thought deserved an ice cream cake celebration. Sighing a bit more dramatically than strictly required given that she was alone; Dee waved her hand changing the view on the television screen. Sarah and her family and friends appeared; they waited for Dee at her parent's home, another stressful conversation awaiting her.
Altering the view again and Gerard appeared in his ICU room with his mother and sister attending him, arranging the final decisions for his transport to New York for his burial. Sadness all around made Dee hang her head. Bang-up job she accomplished so far. Everyone grieving and her soul mates remained separated. Well, easiest things first...she'd promised the Williams family explanations.
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Georgia Scott stared at the inert and oddly peaceful body of her son lying in the ICU bed, his body covered by a crisp white sheet from his shoulders down. One of the staff apparently exchanged his old linen for new before allowing her and Cassie to pay their respects alone with their deceased family member. His hair also looked freshly combed and his face washed. It explained why it took so long for them to be admitted to see him. Georgia reminded herself to thank the staff en mass for their kindness, for taking such good care of her son, for...everything. Someone sniffed loudly...
"Mum?"
"Yes, Cassie?"
"Mum, are you okay?" Georgia felt her daughter's hand caress her upper back.
"I'm fine, dear, why?"
"Well...um...you've been petting Jer's hair and staring at him for about ten minutes now and..." Cassie watched as her mother finally turned her intense stare from Gerard's face onto her. Her mother's eyes filled with shiny tears threatening to cascade, and she sniffed fiercely again. She always knew her mother to be strong, but this time it worried Cassie. When Mum should be crying she held herself aloof.
"Mum, you know, it's okay to cry," she said softly, tilting her head down and to the side to get a better glimpse. Cassie saw how her mother flinched at her head motion. Gerard used to move his head similarly.
"Oh no, Cassie," she replied, "I can't cry now." She glanced back to Gerard, "Not when he needs me to be strong for him."
"Oh, Mum..." Cassie's heart broke all again watching her mother slip into denial over her son. Always a mama's boy whenever he got the chance to see her, Mum dearly loved her little man across the pond. At the moment Cassie didn't bother to muster up the energy to hate Sarah for doing this to her family, she just felt tired. She wanted it to be over. This time she would have to be the strong one, make all the arrangements. Transport Gerard for probably a New York burial. Call Dad in London. Mum would stay with her for now until...well, until she was better.
"Mum," she said firmly and grasped her shoulders, "Gerard's gone. He's dead. You don't have to be strong for him anymore."
"What?" Her mother glared at her, shocked. "Oh, Cassie, don't say such things! Your brother's not gone. Not really..."
"Mum!" She shook her lightly. Her mother was going insane before her very eyes!
"Cassie, stop it!" Georgia pulled free from her daughter's hands and caressed Gerard's face again, "he's not really gone. I can
feel it. My little boy will come back to me."
"Oh God." Cassie covered her face with her hands while her mother rambled.
"A mother just knows these things sometimes, Cassie. Someday when you have children you'll understand, too," she said giving Cassie a look over her shoulder, her eyes a bit wild and sparkling. "Someday..."
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The bare patch of wall where her Escher poster used to hang, the one Gerard ripped down less than twenty-four hours ago, mocked her with its nakedness. The push pins and poster fragments no longer remained to ridicule her—Karen, bless her, must have cleaned up at some point—but the holes in the dry wall were like widely spaced eyes. If she squinted, or stared long enough without blinking, the pale square bordered by her other posters blurred into a grotesque face harkening her back to the false alarms in the tunnels.
Even so, she didn't dare stop looking at the bare space otherwise she'd look at the ring Ms. Scott gave her then she'd remember...everything else...and start crying again. If she continued curled on her side, lying quiet and immobile on her bed, she could pretend she and Gerard fought. He destroyed her poster in a fit of anger, but he'd return any minute to apologize. Because he couldn't really be...you know...
that.
Having lain for awhile made her limbs and side numb, but she refused to move. She needed to see that patch of wall. Part of her brain, the eternal, rational witness, whispered life eventually required movement. She couldn't stay like this forever. Sooner or later responsibilities and demands would call, but she kept squashing that nagging voice every time it poked up its know-it-all head; like playing mental whack-a-mole, except less fun and no cheesy prizes at the end.
A knock at her bedroom door; Karen's voice speaking through the thin wood, "Sarah, honey?" The creaking of her door as Karen opened it. In the corner of her eye, Sarah saw her Karen step into her room.
"Sarah," she said again, walking closer. She felt the bed dip as Karen sat on the edge. Karen's hand lightly combed through her loose hair.
'Please don't touch me, Karen,' she thought plaintively, her emotions teetering just below the surface of her skin.
'Touching me makes it real then I'll have to move and he'll be gone again.' Salt water flooded Sarah's eyes...she wouldn't cry...not again...not again...not again...
"Sarah, honey, you've been up here since we got home." Karen watched her stepdaughter's eyes brim and flood over, re-soaking the already damp comforter. "I know you're probably not hungry, but would you like something warm to drink? Maybe hot cocoa?" Sarah shook her head slightly.
"Okay...well," Karen continued stroking Sarah's previously silken hair, "you don't have to come down if you don't want, but I came up to check on you and tell you that your...friend, Dee, just arrived."
Dee came back? Oh, yeah...she said she would...to explain to everyone else. That's right. She didn't bother to look at Karen as she recalled Dee's last words before she left the hospital. Thinking of the hospital...she didn't even get to say good-bye to Jer before she left. Ms. Scott would've welcomed her, but with Cassie's blame she felt too ashamed to go near him with his family present. Cassie would likely ban her from his funeral too. Her mouth twisted as she held back a sob. God, she missed him so much!
"I'll tell her you're resting and can't be disturbed." Sarah nodded. "We'll get her to answer our questions, don't you worry about a thing, honey." Another nod, Karen brushed her head a few more times then left, the bed springs squeaking as the weight redistributed again. She didn't want to see or speak to Dee right now except she wondered...
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Sitting with Sarah's family and friends made Dee extremely uncomfortable. Not because she disliked mortals, but because no one spoke as they seated themselves in a clustered horseshoe at the opposite end of the oval dining table from her. She felt like she confronted a tribunal for crimes yet uncommitted. She didn't blame them though. After witnessing the battle with her father and his treatment of them, it only made sense they kept their distance. They were rather smarter than average mortals, afterall.
Dressed in a modern, casual pants suit, Dee suppressed her desire to fidget beneath the onslaught of their combined wariness. Even the stepmother, who greeted her warmly at their front door, now acted uncertain. One of the males, Sarah's friend by the name of Todd as she recalled, leaned forward on his elbows to intently glare as if dissecting her.
"Must you be so obvious?" Dee snapped at him.
"Uh...sorry," Todd slid back into his chair. "It's just...I've never seen anyone so...anyone like you before, up close, I mean."
"Look," she said, exasperated with their behavior, "Todd, you might as well come clean about your talent if you're going to act like a dumbass about it. I can tell you have the Sight."
"What...I...no..." She leveled an acidic glare at him and he wilted. Kathy placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Yeah, alright, I do."
"The Sight? What's that? Huh? Cool!" Were the various responses from the Williams family. Glad to redirect their attention, Dee smirked until something creaked behind her and she turned in her seat. Sarah stood at the base of the stairwell, across from the dining room.
"Sarah." Dee stood; her brave, mortal savior appeared so haggard and beaten, her face puffy and red. Sarah held the railing with one hand while the other twitched intermittently at her side. Her voice, when she spoke, was rough from too much crying.
"Just tell me one thing, Dee, and then you can stay down here answering questions all day for all I care."
"What do you want to know?" She asked, guarded.
"Did it work? Is HE alive?" Thinning her lips, Dee bit back her automatic retort. Sarah refused to even say Jareth's name. She sounded so hurt, so bitter.
"I can show y—"The goddess began to call up a viewing screen, but Sarah cut her off.
"I don't want to
see him! Just answer the question!" She shouted causing everyone to jump, except Dee. She rather expected Sarah's reaction, disliked it, but expected it.
Her arms dropping to her sides in defeat, Dee did not complete the screen. "Yes, he's alive, but very weak and..."
Sarah held up her hand for Dee to stop talking and nodded silently, biting her lip. "Good...good..." Then she turned and walked listlessly back up stairs.
"Zeus's balls on a platter," Dee muttered, "this isn't going well at all."
"So, what the hell is going on?" Someone with a masculine voice asked, and Dee turned around to see Robert Williams standing with his arms crossed and a scowl pointed at her. "What was Sarah talking about? Who's alive? Why are you so interested in my daughter? What the—"
"Mr. Williams," Dee sat back at the table with a smile firmly plastered on her face. "I promise I'll answer all of your questions, but first allow me to tell you a story starring Gerard Scott, your daughter, and a man none of you have ever met. Well..." She focused on a wide-eyed Toby seated between his parents. His mother wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders as she noticed the direction of Dee's gaze.
"Almost none of you have met that is," Dee amended. Toby visibly cringed.
"A story? I don't want to hear a damn story!"
"Please!" With her hand, she indicated for him to resume sitting at the table, "If you would, this story is vital and will clarify much of what has occurred."
"But..."
"Robert, please sit down," Karen said as she tugged on his arm. "I trust that she'll tell us everything, but let her tell it her way."
"Fine." He grumbled, sitting with his arms still crossed. "Start talking."
This mortal really tried her patience. Lucky for him she liked Sarah, and depriving her of father ranked low on Dee's list of things to accomplish this decade. Taking a deep breath and ignoring Mr. Williams, she did her best to smile and scanned the keen faces of Sarah's friends and family. He only wanted answers to Sarah's plight. They all did.
"I could say it all started approximately fifteen years ago, but that would gloss over the deeper aspects of the story." The goddess began simply, her voice so casual and straight forward the mortals minutely relaxed. Toby, however, held a knowing gleam in his eyes.
"I could also say it started at Sarah's birth, but that too wouldn't be quite accurate." Her parents frowned at this while Toby looked surprised. Kathy and Todd exchanged bemused glances. Continuing her narration, Dee leaned back into her chair, finally more at ease.
"In actuality, it all started years before Sarah existed when I first noticed the decline of a certain realm and a certain person's heartache within his realm..." Now she really held their rapt attention. They lacked only a sunset, a campfire and s'mores to complete the atmosphere.
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Even deep abiding heartache is eventually overruled by the effects of cold, hard stone on one's backside. However long the time, Jareth didn't know or care, but his bottom did and it protested by shooting sharp pains alternating with aching numbness up his lower back. Gradually the worsening pain overwhelmed his despair; not to mention his persistent erection caused by the whirlwind erotic Sarah images
. It really did have a one track mind of its own, fae males no exception.
While he preferred to remain crouched at the balcony railing until he recaptured a convenient coma, his ass declared otherwise. Unfortunately, immortally did not release him from physical pain; forty years of wasting away took its toll, and the time to move to more comfortable accommodations arrived.
"Good gods," he muttered, using the stone balustrade to drag himself to a semi-stable standing position. His joints cracked, his muscles burned, and dizziness threatened to toss him back to the floor for a moment.
He peered over the periphery to the landing belong, wondering then frowned. Throwing himself over the balcony, thereby ending his torment prematurely
seemed like a feasible plan. Alas... The fall wouldn't kill him; maim him severely, lengthen his recovery but not finish him off; pity, the flagstone courtyard five stories below looked inviting enough with its credible, bone-crushing landing. Immortality...damned inconvenient at times.
Frowning further at his unusual suicidal thoughts, Jareth carefully made his way back into his chambers without falling. Unlike him to consider depriving the Underground of his illustriousness, but then he supposed he'd done that very thing by accepting Zeus's offer years ago. He sank down on his bed with a sigh, his head and shoulders slumped. His head felt so muddled, his emotions so tangled. He hardly knew which way to jump. Perhaps his magic returned. Twisting his wrist, he attempted conjuring a crystal only to have a minor flash of light spark, fizzle, and die. The scent of ozone thickened the air in its wake.
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Hmm, not quite,' he thought, '
but more than I hoped for so early.' He required rest, food and more rest before his body and magic fully restored. Within days, perhaps a week given he took care; he'd be at full strength. Remembering he still wore his worse-for-the-wear feather cape, he unlatched it and tossed it carelessly away. Then he removed his boots, and carefully stripped off his clothes, adding them to the ratty pile.
Sighing again, he scratched his fingertips through his tangled hair. It felt good to expose his sore muscles to fresh air as the dilapidated clothing caused his unnaturally dry skin to itch. He cared naught to ever see or touch that outfit again. And a long, hot soak sounded delightful, but that required him walking the substantial length of his chambers to his private bathroom, and the magic to prepare it. Later, after he slept...soo tired, he was so, very, very exhausted. Jareth's eyes closed before his back hit the goose down duvet, and he passed out with his legs hanging over the edge of his bed.
He sat across from Sarah as they struggled with inane dinner conversation. He never felt nervous conversing with women, but trying to talk to her proved near impossible. Didn't help how she skewered him with her suspicious eyes over their sashimi. Enough to put a man off his dinner and romance combined, but damned if she wasn't the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Something about her sparked his immediate interest and other more visceral reactions. He couldn't give up without a fight, not after convincing her to join him tonight.
Then a miracle occurred. She allowed him to teach her to properly use chopsticks, and he shimmied his chair to her side faster than a blink. Just being physically near her made his heart race and his palms sweat. How he held onto the blasted chopsticks stymied him because they felt slick in his fingers. When she finally smiled at him he thought, perhaps, he'd never really lived before that moment.
Not stopping to consider the wisdom, Jareth kissed Sarah with all the instant fervency he'd felt for her since their awkward meeting in the coffee shop. When she returned his passion, warmth flashed from his lips to his groin and everywhere in between. Rationally he knew it was crazy to fall so quick for someone, but her lips, her tongue, her hands in his hair...With a deep groan, Jareth awoke tangled in his duvet, his body angled awkwardly over his bed.
"Great Danu," he rolled to his side, blinking in the darkness. What the bloody hell did he dream about? Every facet was so real, far more real than any dream he'd ever experienced. But what were sashimi and chopsticks, and why did he dream of things he knew nothing about? Did he dream of
his memories?
His stomach growled, and he set aside his mental wanderings to address his pressing physical requirements. His third attempt at magic produced a dimly glowing nightlight crystal; pathetic, but sufficient to find the table laden with food. Disregarding his nudity and fresh erection, Jareth seated himself devoting his time to filling his stomach. Time for clothing and deeper thoughts best saved for later. Within minutes he satiated his hunger and returned to bed, asleep within moments.
Strange, pulsing lights of every color danced around his vision while heavy music thrummed in his ear, so loud he barely understood what Sarah said to him, but then she appeared to be moaning rather than speaking. At the periphery of his eyes, he saw other faceless dancers keeping similar time to the unfamiliar music.
The bass vibrations tingled over his extremely sensitive skin which surprised Jareth because fae skin was normally very sensitive, but this was beyond. He reached for her. She spun away then pressed her backside to his groin. The dual sensation of the pressure and the smooth texture of her short, black leather skirt through his pants sent his libido into overdrive.
'
Great Danu!' He thought as she ground her buttocks into his extremely prominent erection. When had that occurred? He didn't remember, but held no complaints. Wasting no time, Jareth grabbed her hips and pushed a counter point rhythm to her sultry swivel. That she allowed it surprised him, but when her head fell to his shoulder and her hands grasped his hips as she moaned he nearly finished.
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What is happening that she grants me this?' What else would she grant? Inching his hands upwards, prepared to stop any second, Jareth gradually trailed up her torso to gently cup her breasts through her thin shirt. He felt her hardened nipples through both layers of her shirt and bra and dear gods...she moaned again and writhed further against his groin and chest.
"Sarah," he whispered into her ear, bestowing open mouthed kissed down her neck and shoulder.
"I want you, I love you..." she answered, her voice husky with lust.
"Yes, please...I love you, Sarah..."
"Take me...here...now..." Her hands caressed his manhood through his trousers; he jerked and thrust as she bent forward exposing her nudity beneath the skirt to him. "Please fuck me!" She said over her shoulder, "I need you, Jer!"
"Bloody hell, yes!" Fingers fumbling with the unusual fastening on his pants, Jareth finally withdrew himself and in one sure thrust plunged inside Sarah's proffered womanhood; her heat and tightness forcing him to wake up with a strangled sob as he blinked rapidly in the bright afternoon light. Afternoon...how long had he slept? It was night in the Underground when he fell asleep the second time, yet he felt as though several days passed.
Glancing around his chambers, he realized he absentmindedly stroked his erection with his fisted hand. Another one? Or Still? Scowling, he told himself he should cease, but after such an erotic dream following the first romantic one he craved release. At least certain parts of his body seemed to lack the need for excessive healing time.
Thinking back on the dream, he recalled Sarah as a grown woman wearing that skin tight black leather number. His cock twitched in his grip. He did love leather, and black. So... black leather...Jareth groaned, his hand speeding up and his hips thrusting madly as he replayed the dream in his mind. How she felt writhing against him, her aroused nipples teased by his fingers, and her hot, tight...
"Oh, gods...SARAH!" He cried out, coming in great spurts on his abdomen. Panting as he recovered from ecstasy, Jareth lie on his bed staring at the ancient wooden rafters in the ceiling, dazed at his unexpected behavior. Centuries passed since he last felt substantial lust. Sad really since fae are constructed for sensuality, but when one's race fades leaving one bereft of company (mortals rarely sufficed) one becomes accustom to deficiency. No longer, his body and mind now in agreement, they shook off depression and demanded Sarah Williams.
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A/N: This chapter may seem like a bit of filler, but trust me it's not. Several key points of character development happened here which are necessary to progress. And the next chapter will be...oh boy...you'll love me and you'll hate me. It's a bit longer than this chapter and I'll tell you now that J/S meet for the first time since the Escher room. And...oh boy...can't...tell...you...more...must...resist...spoilers...
I really, really, REALLY loved writing the next chapter which is now in the editing and tweaking phase. Part of the reason my hands hurt cause my muse spoke to me a few days ago and insisted that the original direction I planned on going next chap be changed...drastically. And it's...intense. Even I was like...whoa...I've got to write this just right to make it work perfectly. Not for the overall story (that's still going to work fine) no to work for the characters' believability and readers' reactions. Now ya'll really hate me for this evil teaser, right? Just trust me that you do not want to miss Chap 24.
