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Strangers 'til Now
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"Where've you been?" Sarah asked him.
They sat at the edge of a mystical lake: more beautiful than any Aboveground lake with its scintillating surface reflections, unusual water birds cavorting at the boundary of water and air, and the land limned with the richness of peach orchards—the air prosperous with the aroma of the fruits and serenity.
Turning, he met her curious gaze, gently he smiled. "Ah, luv, I've been away."
"I know, but where?" She asked again, insistent, "I
miss you, Jer."
She felt his fingers brush hers where they rested on the stone bench; their digits automatically weaving together without their gazes breaking, one of his fingers rubbed the ring his mother gave her—she still wore it on her left ring finger. His mismatched eyes sparkled in the softly reflected light from the water; his smile widened, making his goatee drop on his chin.
"I miss you too, Sarah. But I won't be gone forever."
"No?" She asked. His straightforward reassurance soothed her, but then she never felt anxious in his presence.
"No," he answered simply, no distortion, no complications.
"That's good. When will you be back?"
"I'm glad you're wearing my mother's ring. It suits you," he said, gently avoiding her question.
"She insisted."
He chuckled quietly, "She's like that, it means she taken to you, luv." Relaxed, they both looked to the lake, enjoying the pleasant atmosphere for a time. Friendly breezes wafted off the water, swirling around them before traveling on.
"How will I know, Jer?" Hearing the waver in her voice, he touched her chin and lightly turned her face towards him; the answer to her cryptic question so easy.
"You'll know, Sarah," he said tenderly, "You'll always know because I love you," he added once she fully encompassed his altered appearance; her eyes spreading open in alarm at the platinum-haired, black leather wrapped man touching her so lovingly.
"Jareth!" She exclaimed and jerked upright in her own bed, early morning light filtering through curtains; her racing heart brought on by surprise, other things best pushed aside. The scent of peaches still filled her nostrils; if she closed her eyes she knew the dream lake's splendor would break her heart, overwhelm her teetering emotions. Placing her hands protectively over her abdomen, she looked down...
God, what's happening to me? Little over a week since the dreaded home pregnancy test taunted her with its cheap, plastic chemical reaction; such an insignificant signpost to mark the fork in the road of one's life—left or right? Heaven or Hell? Above or Underground? She laughed; it did not sound amused.
Needing to get ready for work, Sarah turned off her alarm before it went off and got up; purposely trying to toss thoughts of Gerard, Jareth and their unplanned progeny out of her mind. She still hadn't told her family of her newest predicament, nor had she contacted Dee; for now only Todd and Kathy knew. She needed to figure out a way to determine paternity, then maybe a decision.
'
But will it matter?' She asked herself. Gerard being gone, she couldn't choose to not have his child or be with him. Jareth was available and willing (if he didn't hate her now) but did she want him? How would he deal with Gerard's child? But what if it
was Jareth's child? That solved things nicely, except her muddled feelings about Jareth; could she spend her life with a man just because he was her 'baby's daddy'?
"God, I'm such a mess." Sarah scrubbed her face with a hot washcloth, refreshing herself. So...first things first, time for a doctor's appointment to confirm the pregnancy and maybe, just maybe, the doctor could tell her something interesting about her baby to clarify the paternity.
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Standing at the hill overlooking the entrance to his labyrinth, Jareth watched his kingdom live once again; these last few weeks showed immeasurable improvements since the static lifelessness due to his imprudent choice, not a moment he cared to recall overmuch. Never again would he place his subjects in reckless danger due to foolish pride, and careless emotions steering his decisions. They deserved better of him, even the ridiculous goblins.
Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. While he agreed with the spirit of these sentiments rushing in his breast; their new intensity confounded him. Well, perhaps not confounded as he knew their source: Gerard's memories newly imprinted upon his soul, entwining into his life, his mind, the very framework of his existence. He felt them softening his harsher edges, pulling him in directions never explored. He accepted, finally, things must change else all lying below him would be lost. And ironically, peaches showed him how.
"Sarah Williams, luv, I pray you are worth the sacrifice." Another sigh, resigned, his vernacular insidiously altered without his conscious attention. After weeks of fighting, his walls of resistance crumbled like poorly mixed mortar; words and thoughts not his own slipped into his mind and from his lips as naturally as a native New Yorker hailing a cab.
He sighed again. Damn and blast...Jareth rolled his eyes, pinching his nose harder; these intrusive thoughts slithered in unexpectedly, wouldn't allow him a proper blaspheme of the Great Danu anymore. Shaking out of his disheartening thoughts, he focused again on the brighter colors visible on every surface of his kingdom, felt the pulse of the labyrinth supported by the magic of his realm, its strength stabilized...for now.
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Karen did not expect Sarah's phone call mid-week in the late afternoon, however, her stepdaughter's strained voice informed her of some additional stress in Sarah's life beyond the already supernatural events. Home alone, Karen immediately ceased her house cleaning and listened.
"Sarah, dear, whatever is the matter?"
"Karen, Toby's not home yet, right?"
"No, just me." Karen sat at her dining room table, sensing the import underlying Sarah's words.
"Good, I've got some...crazy news to tell you."
"I see."
"You're sitting down, right?"
"Not one of those conversations!"
"'friad so, Karen."
"Oh my...go on."
"Okay...I'll just Band-aid it." Karen heard Sarah take a deep breath over the phone. "Karen, I'm pregnant."
"You...you're pregnant! Gerard..." she whispered, stunned, the receiver slipped in her grasp; she hurried to replace it to her ear.
"Um...that's where is gets complicated."
"Complicated? I don't understand."
"Oh boy, you see...it started right after Jer's funeral..." Sarah went on to chronicle her last few weeks to Karen, certain parts otherwise edited during their previous phone conversations, and her personal uncertainty regarding the situation. Once started, Sarah rushed through her explanation, barely pausing for breaths, better to get it all out.
"Oh Sarah...you and this, this Goblin King Dee arranged. So soon?"
"Um...sort of, but I haven't seen him since," she said by way of an excuse then mumbled, "Um...we fought."
"I see." Karen deliberately kept her tone neutral, not wanting Sarah to feel defensive. "Have you seen a doctor yet?"
"Actually I just left her office before I called you."
"And?"
"Definitely pregnant, approximately four weeks give or take, but she can't tell me anything else." Karen heard the disappointment in her voice.
"Well, Sarah, it's too early to even know the sex yet let alone test for any paternity, if that's what you were hoping. Even the ultrasound is nothing but a little blob without a heartbeat."
A long sigh over the phone, "yeah...I was kinda hoping something..."
"No, it doesn't work that way, dear, I'm sorry. You'll have to wait awhile."
"Oh well..."
"Or..." Karen said, thinking.
"Or what?"
"You could contact Dee. I'm willing to bet she could tell you whatever you wish to know at this point."
"
Great," Sarah replied to her stepmother's incredibly wise advice, but then she'd have to talk to Dee again. Come to think of it...it sort of explained why Dee raced away that day... "What a sec, Karen. I think you're on to something!"
"Yes?"
"I'll call you back, there's a goddess I need to track down!"
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Standing before the London townhouse with a banal, mortal glamour, Jareth marveled at the ease of which he located the address once he permitted his new memories to consciously percolate. A lovely home with an aged, stately exterior, Jareth saw shades of his castle in spirit if not actuality; ancient, hanging trees tunneled over the lengthy street, forming thick, dappling shade. He knew if he were mortal, he would shiver in the cool air.
Checking the immediate area for curious bystanders with a wide visual sweep, he proceeded up the narrow stoop to the front door—locked; but that was no concern for a determined Goblin King. With a deft twist of his hand accompanied by a surge of magic, the handle relinquished its duty without further battle and the thick, wooden door swung open.
He stepped inside quickly and secured the door behind him. He supposed teleporting inside would've been easier, definitely faster, but entering Gerard's flat the mundane fashion intrigued him, brought him one step closer to understanding the mortal man. And that's what his goal Aboveground focused on, digging through the detritus of these memories and piecing together a semblance of sanity. Maybe then he could make peace with the strange dreams and random things his mind bubbled forth.
The entryway was common enough, nothing to arouse particular suspicion or interest regarding the man, Gerard Scott, other than he enjoyed a good income and exquisite taste. Taking cautious steps forward, Jareth moved passed the dark wood, wall table capped by an antique, cut-glass mirror—to his left a small, open study draped in shadows. Few personal things appeared lying about...he would return to that room later. He wanted intimate items connected to Gerard's memories, not merely pointless knick-knacks.
The entryway emptied into cozy sitting room, not large but quite comfortable with leather furniture and tasteful, masculine décor. One chair especially jolted his recollections: An oversized armchair situated strategically near a wide screen television; it reminded him of his throne room except it came with an improved viewing entertainment theater sans goblins. Interested despite mental admonishments, Jareth moved closer and sat in the large, pillow-topped chair, then after several moments of being unable to locate the television remote; he tossed a conjured crystal at the screen which exploded on contact, turning it on in beautiful Technicolor.
'Ahhh...I much prefer this...seems he had excellent taste!' Settling back, he flipped through the channel selections with sharp flicks of his pointer finger until he located a sardonic and witty comedy starring a much put upon man of spectacular intelligence who used it scathingly, but not always effectively against his lesser antagonists. Quite droll, and Jareth lost himself for the next half hour as it coaxed the first laughter from him since before Sarah overturned his world. Once ended, however, reality reasserted, he deactivated the television, and reluctantly pushed from the comfy chair telling himself to duplicate it for his castle's personal chambers...only in black leather. Yes...that would do nicely...
"What else have you stashed in your home, Gerard?" He mused aloud, eyes scanning over the various items in the sitting room before zeroing in on a picture held in a simple, yet expensive looking crystal picture frame. It rested on a wall mounted shelf next to gold colored trophy cup which read—Rugby Champions-1980. Rugby...he remembered that...he used to be an extremely talented fullback when he was a young man.
A chill spread through Jareth as that championship year trickled through his mind: The piercing pain to his lower flank from a spectacular hit from the opposing team, a later wrenching pull to his left ankle as it twisted, spraining it. Recalling that last game, his body took a beating which required weeks of recovery. But, he thought as his fingertip brushed the metal trophy cup and a half smile curled his lips, it was worth it.
Rugby days gone, the picture drew his eyes back; his hand shifting from gold to crystal, touching the frame edge warily as he lifted it. Gerard stood in the photo with a beautiful woman with long brown hair, his arm wrapped possessively around her shoulders as they posed in front of the Eiffel Tower's entrance. They looked...happy...yet Jareth saw something missing in Gerard's eyes, some bit of satisfaction or contentment. As Jareth closer examined the woman snuggled up to Gerard, a name filtered up—Melinda Worthington. The same finger previously touching the trophy now caressed the woman's two-dimensional face... his fiancée.
'
How peculiar,' he thought, '
Melinda looks very similar to Sarah, but missing a vital spark...' He remembered... ...'Gerard, I don't understand why you must be so difficult!' She said, tossing her long hair over her shoulder, her brown eyes crinkling within frustration at him. '
It's not my intention to be difficult, luv.' He reached for her, but she pivoted, showed her back. '
Yet you are!' She replied, her voice becoming shrill. Laying his hand on her shoulder, Melinda shrugged it off. He detested that, she knew. '
Mel...please don't be angry,' he pleaded in desperation, fearing the repeat of this performance. '
Why shouldn't I be?' She spun about, 'you say you love me, you propose-twice, but you refuse to make any plans!' '
I just want us to be sure.' '
I'm sure! For five years we've danced this reel.' She stepped into his personal space, a finger outstretched and jabbing into his chest, 'But I question your sincerity.' Her voice dipped low; he heard the deep emotion kept under tight reins, saw the moisture glimmering in her eyes. '
My what?' Stunned, he dropped his beseeching arm, his tone blank. '
You heard me, Jer.' Crossing her arms over her chest, Melinda's lips tautened and her next words were clipped. 'I wonder at your stalling, your delays.' He sputtered. 'I'm not stalling!' His ire rose with the heat in his face. 'You want to be married so badly, let's have it. Right now then!' He wretched a nearby door open for effect, too bad it was a coat closet. It slammed shut with his angry shove. '
No...' Head shaking, she wiggled the simple yellow gold band solitaire from her finger; he watched her actions, eyes agog...she couldn't be! Calmly, she handed it to him pinched between her thumb and first finger. '
What are you doing, Melinda?' '
You know very well what I'm doing. You're waiting for something, Gerard.' She pushed the engagement ring into his lax hand, 'And I don't believe I'm a part of whatever you're waiting for.' '
Mel, please, I love you...' Even he wasn't sure he believed his declaration, his tone mildly disingenuous though he wanted to commit fully to Melinda, had tried for years. Backing from him, she held up both hands as a ward. '
If you can figure what you want then ring me, but please...don't propose again unless you've already made plans to marry me.' Then she walked, more like stomped, from him, leaving him gawking after her swaying hips and hair. She sounded quite serious this time, not like the other times she broke up with him. Getting her back would take massive groveling. Looking at the gold diamond ring lying in his palm, he couldn't help but remember how his mum always insisted his future wife should wear a family ring. Why hadn't he ever told Melinda of his mother's wish? He never seemed to quite find the heart. He remembered this occurred a few weeks before his firm sent him to America for the 911 Memorial Contract... Yanking back from the swirl of memories, Jareth blinked several times to clear his vision, the couple in the photo stared back at him, evidently happy; but he knew what lie festering beneath the surface of Gerard's psyche—nebulous, unrequited love. With a scowl and a heavy sigh, he replaced the frame to its place of honor. Poor sod never stood a chance at true happiness, not with the unknown specter of Sarah Williams shadowing his soul. And now...where did this leave him?
Moving along the wall, he spied another photograph of a young blond woman and Gerard posing mid-fisticuffs, but wearing broad, toothy grins. A second later he recalled her name, Cassandra, his sister. A tumultuous, yet close relationship if his current, acute feelings were a true indicator. A desire to protect her welled up from his gut and something odd stuck in his throat.
...'They did what, Cassie?' He remembered asking as a significantly younger version. '
They called me a bitch and pushed me into my locker, made me drop all my books!' His little sister said, her lower lip pouting out, trembling. She started junior high this year and was having trouble adjusting. Their parents only just announced their intention to divorce and their futures' looked dreary. '
Did you fight back like I showed you?' Gerard asked, throwing a comforting arm around her shoulders. '
Of course I did! But there were too many!' She cried, sniffing, wiping her nose with her long sleeve. 'By the time I could get back up a teacher came out and we all got in trouble.' '
Well, I'll help you get them back.' He pulled Cassie into a bear hug. '
But what if it's too late? What if Dad takes you to England by then?' '
Don't worry, Cassie, I'll always be here for you, always protect you, right?' '
Really, Jer?' He patted her back and rocked her. '
That's my job, Cassie. I'm you're big brother and I always will be,' he said will great conviction, and she burrowed into his chest with sigh... Tears threatened his eyes; Jareth broke from the picture of Gerard and Cassie, the two siblings so close and fiercely protective of each other. He never experienced such devotion, never had a sibling or a near sibling willing to fight by his side for blood reasons. Pinching his nose, Jareth turned from the shelves fighting down his emotions.
In many ways Gerard knew connections with others that he would never and could never live; for the first time since Aphrodite's visit when he woke, starving and bewildered, Jareth discovered himself to be
envious of Gerard's life. And not because of Sarah's love. The man may not have lasted long in the mortal world because of Sarah, but he lived a full life when he could; while he, the Goblin King, existed eons yet lived hardly at all.
"Oh my! Pardon me!"
"What?" Jareth's head snapped up from his hand clenched to his nose. A well dressed woman stood at the entrance to the sitting room, a large bag slung over one shoulder, a stack of papers carried to her chest.
"I didn't mean to intrude but I was supposed to show the flat today. I'm Mrs. Smyth, the realtor."
"Pardon?"
"You look oddly familiar, are you family of the deceased?" She asked, leaning her head closer with a narrowed eyed gaze.
"Ah...yes," Jareth said quickly, adding a thin smile. "I am family."
"Oh, well," the woman glanced at the front door, fidgeting, "I don't mean to be rude, but a have a lovely, young married couple wishing to see the home and..."
"No, no it's quite alright," he said stepping into the entryway as she edged from his path. "I was just leaving, taking care of a few...personal things."
The woman brightened, "Excellent! Have you collected Mr. Scott's personal properties? Most of his family lives in the States and for some reason his father has yet to collect them."
"Well..."
"I've hidden several things away for propriety's sake, but a few things are still displayed to keep it homey..." she said with a careful smile, "you know...to stage it for sale."
"I understand, I..." Jareth started then caught himself; what was he doing? But bloody hell, he couldn't allow the man's intimate possessions to be thrown away like day old bread. "I'll take care of everything."
"Oh, thank goodness!" She visibly relaxed, shoulders dropping. "I can't tell you how worried I've been for Mr. Scott's things, not knowing what to do with them. His father calls me weeks ago to sell the property, tells me to sell it furnished, and that's all I hear from the man! Can you believe it?"
"Indeed..."
"Well, then, the couple isn't due for awhile." She extended a hand which Jareth realized she meant for him to take. "I'll just leave you alone to finish; could you be done by three o'clock?" She asked. Jareth accepted her hand, rotating it, bowing and brushing his lips over her knuckles lightly.
"Easily, luv."
"Oh...oh my," she stammered as he released her hand. Walking to the front door, she turned as she opened it. "Oh, I didn't get your name mister...sir?
Sir?" The entryway and sitting room were empty, so were the kitchen and every other room in the home Mrs. Smyth discovered after several minutes of exploration. She also observed all the small, personal items of Mr. Scott's—photos, books, and such—were missing too.
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Lounging in her private retreat, Dee was getting in some serious recovery time after all the Goblin King/Sarah Williams run-around; she hadn't even peeked in on them since their last disastrous conversations. Not that she hadn't been tempted, but uh-huh...No peeking, or snooping or nosing about where her advice was so obviously unwanted. Okay...maybe she might have, sort of, peeked the teeniest bit a couple of times...She felt confident, however, only a matter of days until one of the less obstinate of the two gave in and called her. Oh yes...any day now...
Dee reminded herself of this as she held a mini viewing screen in her hands; a blank screen which would alert ANY SECOND. Adjusting her reclined position on her sectional couch, she reached for her mildly alcoholic drink (yeah Dionysus...still going strong, if not stronger in the 21st century), sipped it then set it back down, eyes never leaving the screen...soon now...
"Aphrodite," the screen screeched with a burst of static, dashing Dee's hope at the sound of Lachesis's voice. Pushing down her disappointment, Dee answered.
"Yes?"
"How's the project going?" The hag's scratchy voice asked, her image swirling against the black void.
"Um...fine, things are going well, why?"
Hades! How much had they already figured out on that annoying loom?
"The weave is looking tangled."
"Oh...well there've been some complications but nothing that isn't getting sorted out."
"Good, as long as it works out, thank you, Dee," Lachesis stated bluntly.
"You're welcome, Lachesis." Dee whooshed out her breath once the screen blanked. So, apparently, Lachesis was checking up on her now...great, perfect. Since when did the Fates turn into micro-managers? She started walking to her koi pond, needing chill out time, when the screen alerted again; this time she heard Sarah's voice calling her name—finally! Dee transported directly to Sarah's location finding her lying in her bed, mid-cry.
"Sarah?"
"Oh Dee!" The young mortal turned puffy, mascara-smudged eyes towards her, a box of tissues death-clutched to her rumpled pajama covered chest.
"Hon, what happened?" The goddess rushed over, sitting on the edge of her bed, enclosing Sarah in a tight embrace, internally remarking that depressed Sarah was appreciably less dangerous that pissed off Sarah.
"Tell me you know who's it is," she sniffed, wiped, sniffed again, burying her face in Dee's shoulder, "You do, don't you? That's why you left so quickly, isn't it?" Patting her back, Dee cooed her support.
"Sarah, I didn't anticipate this."
Oh boy...she's found out, now how do I handle this? "But you know...Please, Dee," Sarah pulled back, unstoppable tears racing, Dee's hands on her shoulders, "please tell me, I have to know!"
"Will it matter right now? Knowing the father?" With her thumbs, she swept Sarah's face free of moisture, her hands cupping her cheeks.
"What? Of course it'll matter!" Sarah jerked from Dee's hands, scrambling back to her headboard, crouching, defensive. She saw how Sarah trembled. The goddess leaned forward, asking softly:
"What I mean is: Maybe you should wait and decide how you feel about Jareth."
"Oh...oh God..." Sarah's sobbing abruptly ceased, her breath hitching in gulps, eyes stabbing. "It's his, isn't it?"
"Sarah..."
"Just tell me, Dee!" The tissue box catapulted across the room, smacking the wall with a cardboard crunch, "
Please!" Fearing what more information might create in this snarled mess, Dee vacillated another few seconds, but she never could refuse a wounded mortal—Sarah in particular—and she really did suck at lying anyhow.
Heaving a resigned sigh, the goddess frowned but nodded, acquiescing to Sarah's demand. "Jareth is the father."
"Shit, shit, shit." Dee observed how Sarah rocked back and forth, her knees drawn to her chest, chanting the expletive. Prudent, Dee touched Sarah's head gently; when she didn't flinch or pull away, Dee lightly caressed her hair.
"What am I going to do?" Sarah's voice cracked, still muffled by her upswept legs.
"Hon, you don't have to make any decisions right away." Eyes peering over her folded arms around her knees, Sarah barked a harsh laugh.
"Easy for you to say, you're not the one who...who..."
"I know. Sarah, do you
know how you feel about Jareth?" Still rocking in her balled huddle, face partially hidden, Sarah shrugged.
"Not sure...sometimes...I think..."
"What?" She pressed when her silence extended. A few more sniffs.
"I think...maybe...if things were different. If we'd met differently, if Gerard..."
"But Jareth, in a way, was Gerard, is Gerard."
"Don't," Sarah's head popped up, her eyes flashing with anger, her voice tight, "
Don't say that."
"I know you don't like thinking about that."
"And neither does Jareth, he can't stand to even hear Jer's name!"
"Yes, I know. He's made it quite clear to me."
"To you? What did you do?" Sarah's voice finally contained more than dejection.
"It's not important, but what if I told you that Jareth is dealing with adapting to the realities of Gerard as well and it's difficult for him, but he's doing his best to become a better man."
"So?"
"So, perhaps, you might consider giving him another chance?"
"Because I'm having his baby,
right?" She bit off sarcastically. "He gets an out?"
"No...
Be-cause," Dee drew the word out, exasperated, "you just might find true love if you give yourself a chance to forgive and be forgiven."
"Just that simple?" She scoffed.
"No, not just that simple, but it's worth it if you try."
Sarah's whole demeanor slumped, "I—I don't know, Dee."
"Like I said," Dee pulled her back into a hug, Sarah didn't resist. "You don't have to make any decisions today. But think on it?"
"Yeah okay," she answered, nodding into Dee's shoulder. "I guess I can do that."
"Good girl, we'll figure out the rest together."
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A/N: Whew...man these last chapters were a bugger bear at first but now I'm on the roll with how they need to come together. I had it in my head but every time I sat to write before...blank or rewriting. Complex because of the characters being rewritten in new perspectives yet needing to stay in character enough to be believable. Far more complex than I originally thought, lots of detail that I expected but damn. And to weave it all back together...sigh...lets just say I took several days off before my muse coughed up the perfect solution that I liked. And I'm thinking the way I'm ending it...it could be open for a sequel or one shots if I ever decided to revisit this version. No promises...just saying...
Love this story lots, but it will be nice to have it wrapped up in a bow! I'm so glad everyone has enjoyed it so much from the very beginning!
Jinx
:o)
