.
.
I'll Be There for You
.
.
This time the scent of peaches and fresh water immediately identified her location—the serene, Underground lake—and she again sat on the stone bench near the water. Someone settled next to her, and a warm hand engulfed hers, fingers caressing and curling. Turning to look...
"Gerard, you're back," Sarah said, her voice suffused with happiness, her eyes softened as she gazed upon her love.
"Yes, Sarah." He brought her hand up from the bench to his lips, kissing her palm then holding it to his cheek. He felt so warm,
alive. A bolt of guilt shot through her.
"Are you staying this time?" She asked, keeping her voice even.
"Not yet, luv." Her eyes pleaded, "I'm sorry," he added sincerely. "It's not time."
"I don't understand."
"You will, soon." She pouted. "I promise, Sarah, soon." Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close until she snuggled into his side.
"I just want to be happy again," she whispered.
"I know; I want that too." He kissed the crown of her head; the heat of his lips seeping through her thick hair; the contrast making her shiver lightly. "But I understand you have good news though," he asked, upbeat.
"Good news?"
Gerard shifted back and lifted her face by her chin, "You're pregnant."
"You know?"
"Of course, luv."
Burying her face in his chest, her fists balling his cotton shirt, she started to cry, "But it's not yours, Jer. I'm sorry, I'm
so sorry!"
"Why?" His thumb caressed her chin, trying to console her.
"It's his! I shouldn't have...you know..."
"Sarah," he said her name patiently, which made her feel worse, "I understand why you did what you did and with whom."
Raising her face from his shirt, bewildered, she asked, "You do?"
How could he? "Of course, luv."
"But what about," she gulped, her throat constricting, unable to get the next words passed her lips.
"When you chose him over me?"
"Uh-huh," she mumbled, eyes dropping to the bench, her fingers dropping to trace random designs on the bench. She felt his other hand comb her hair, softly threading through the strands.
"Sarah, look at me." Grudgingly, she did, her face drooping miserably. "Jareth is the best and the worst of me. You
had to choose him; it was my destiny, my fate."
"But what about free will? Dee said it was up to me."
"It was, luv, you just helped fate along."
"By killing you," she said, groaning in pain at the memories made fresh. As she started to drop her head again, Gerard trapped her face with both of his hands, wedging her to look at him.
"And I forgive you," he said seriously, deliberately, gazing directly into her eyes. "It's time to forgive yourself, Sarah." At his direct, heartfelt words, Sarah collapsed into his arms, sobbing, clawing at his clothes as he held her snug to him.
"I'm so sorry, Jer!"
"I know, it's over and I promise everything will be okay once you let go of your pain."
"I want to," she wailed, "I don't know how!"
Brushing her hair from her moistened face, he kissed her forehead, "Trust yourself, my love." He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her lips, "and trust in love: our love, my love for you."
"Jer!" She cried out, awakening to the late evening sunlight streaming into her living room, her arms stretching upwards for her dead lover as she rolled to her side. Dazed, it took several moments to remember that she fell asleep on her couch after work, exhausted from the combined physical and emotional stresses in her life. As she lowered her arms through the stripes of late light through her window blinds, something glistened in her vision. Intrigued, she raised her arms, her hands passing through the soft light; there it was again, the curious shimmering, like fine glitter powdered over her skin.
'
Strange...did I get into something at work?' She wondered, sitting up and pushing her sleeves passed her elbows. It was there too, on her forearms and her stomach when she checked. She raced to the bathroom to study her face in the mirror, but the fluorescent lighting made her dull and lifeless, not glistening. Her purse compact! Sarah ran back to the living room, dug through her large bag for her compact mirror and brought it back to the slats of sunlight, aiming the mirror while she positioned her face perfectly in the light.
'
Oh my God...' more shimmering on her face, nothing obvious in regular lighting, subtle, but...oh my God...
"What the hell is happening to me?"
.
.
jsjsjsjsjsjsj
.
.
He decided to watch her, covertly, materializing without her knowledge, glamoured, but not in a stalker-ish, morally questionable manner because that would be reprehensible, and not at all becoming for a king to indulge. He needed to understand, however, about Sarah, their former relationship and therefore himself. All the confusing thoughts and emotions within him twisted about, making things difficult to comprehend. So he started tonight, immediately after his discoveries in London, while she went out with her friends.
Currently he sat at the bar of an Aboveground restaurant, disguised as a prosaic mortal man sitting alone. (A thing he possessed little experience as either Jareth or Gerard, yet he did his best to remain inconspicuous). Watching her for the first time since the funeral, she made his heart skip like a clichéd schoolboy in university. Jareth pinched his nose, frustrated—mostly weary.
The memories of university no longer vague, he now understood the reference and if he concentrated he recalled details, albeit occasionally fuzzy. Things were becoming...easier? Clearer? Perhaps less muddled was a better term. Knowing certain memories from a different, foreign life were, for a lack of a better word,
integrating with his mind was odd and disconcerting. While he accepted the unsought change, he did not approve of Dee's methods. But, as he desired comprehension, he no longer denied his previous existence, realizing he needed to find some manner of peace between his lives.
.
.
Sarah fiddled with the swizzle stick of her tonic water and lime—no alcohol for her—while out to dinner with Kathy and Todd. They felt the need to treat her to dinner after Dee's visit a few days earlier, and subsequent life changing news. All of five minutes passed once Dee left before Sarah called Kathy, sobbing. Best friend mode activated, Kathy arranged another babysitter and she and Todd made plans to take Sarah out for a stress relieving dinner; hence now all three sat at a nice, American grill style restaurant with a full bar which she was temporarily restricted accessed.
"This sucks; I could really use a drink." Sarah pouted, thrusting the plastic stick from her so that it rattled the ice in her tumbler.
"But you're going to have a nutritious meal instead, right?" said Kathy, nodding towards her partially mauled burger and sweet potato fries.
"Sure, it'll go great with my persistent nausea."
Kathy laughed lightly. "I remember being miserable for months, trust me, eating a little can help."
"Uh-huh, whatever..." Sarah rolled her eyes, gripping the burger in both hands to nibble at the side; every bite made her stomach lurch, but then every non-bite did the same so it didn't really matter whether she ate or not. At least she wasn't vomiting as often, just every other day.
"But you
are feeling better, emotionally?" Todd asked, leaning forward with both elbows on the table, "Now that you know?"
"Yeah," she nodded, "A bit. I still don't know what I want to do or how I really feel about Jareth, but at least it's one less unknown to worry about."
"True..."
"I can't believe Dee knew all this time and she didn't tell you before," Kathy said, shaking her head as she dug through her Cobb salad.
"I was mad at first, but she explained that she was trying not to screw up our fates even more. Free will and all," Sarah said, casually waving her hand about.
"Still..." Kathy replied, frowning.
"I know, but the more I get to know her the more I realize she's not all powerful either." Sarah rested her chin in her cupped hand. "I mean, for a goddess, she's not much better at figuring things out than we are."
"Definitely not!" Todd agreed.
While he gulped his drink a spike of cold shot through his gut to his heart. He barely hid his reaction to his vibe alerting him to the presence of something powerful and familiar. Only half listening to his wife and Sarah chatting, Todd nonchalantly glanced around the restaurant for the source of his sensation—at the bar, one of the patrons but which one? Sarah continued complaining of her nausea; Kathy repeatedly coaxed her to eat until Todd suggested Kathy walk Sarah home while he close their bill and collect the food in take-out containers.
"Baby, are you sure?"
"Yeah, Kath, I'll meet you at Sarah's." He smiled. "You make sure she's doing okay then we'll head home."
"Thanks, Todd," Sarah replied with obvious relief, almost as if he released her from imprisonment, "I just can't eat another bite."
"I know, Sarah." He hugged her after they stood from the table. "Kathy likes to forget how much she didn't eat while she was pregnant."
"I did so eat!"
"If you like to think so, Kath."
"Oh, you..." She lightly swapped her husband's bicep while he ducked and grinned.
"You girls head out, I'll take care of everything and see you soon."
"Well, okay..." His wife reluctantly agreed, hugging him goodbye before walking out with Sarah.
"Bye, Todd, thanks again."
"No problem, bye, Sarah, by hon." He waved ...
'Good ... girls are safe ... take care of the bill then deal with whomever this is lurking.' Todd waved to a waiter who sped over; Todd instructed him to box everything to go as he pulled out enough cash to cover the bill and tip. Once the waiter cleared the plates, Todd indifferently sauntered towards the restrooms, passing the long way from one end of the bar to the other. Approximately two-thirds of the way down his vibe peaked then sharply decreased; the thin dark haired man sitting alone, nursing a drink.
And the feeling ... it was the same he caught the day of Gerard's funeral which, he was certain now, was an amplified Gerard as it felt vaguely like the man he once knew and disliked. The sharp, icy stab grew every inch he closed and decreased as he distanced himself, like a reverse game of hot, hot, cold. Completely certain in his plan of action, Todd quickly pivoted and returned—before the man left—approached his back and spoke in a soft, menacing voice near the average looking man's ear.
"They prosecute stalkers in New York, Jareth." Caught mid-sip, the ice jangled faintly in the man's glass before he continued sipping then smoothly reset his drink on the bar. Sidling up beside him, Todd slipped onto the adjacent, open barstool, his head never leaving the man's position. Meanwhile, the man's eyes slid guardedly towards this new threat to his flank, his body steadfastly facing the bar.
"You must be Todd, now I ascertain the resemblance," Jareth said calmly with a heavy implication of derision which Todd missed utterly.
"Good to know my vibes are working correctly, even though you must be using some strong magic to disguise your appearance; which is giving me a headache, by the way," Todd said in a whispered hiss, his body leaning toward Jareth. Both men attempted to look occupied by anything other than conversing with one another.
"I would apologize for the glamour you so easily disregard," Jareth turned to face him for a second, cocking his head, and saying in an icy tone, "But I rather don't care."
"Wow, and I thought Gerard was an ass, but you're ... professional level," Todd replied, his face jerking towards Jareth, shocked at Jareth's casual dismissal of his discomfort.
Raising his glass in a restrained salute in his direction, Jareth continued staring at the bar mirror, smirked and said, "I do try to excel in all things." He faintly caught Todd's dagger-eyed glared reflected to him in the silvered glass.
"Unbelievable," Todd muttered, head shaking while Jareth tossed back a hearty swig of amber alcohol.
"I've been given more dire insults by far worse than you." Jareth sneered. "You needn't bother, then."
"Yeah, I don't doubt that." Exasperated, Todd scrubbed his face for a moment then looked over at Jareth's boring appearance again. "Look, just tell me one thing."
"Yes?" One brow arched, Jareth waited several beats for the question; his demeanor a study in royal impatience.
"What are your intentions?"
"My intentions?" Jareth said snidely, adding the next at Todd's unspoken, male threat, "Towards the lovely Sarah?" His tone was unpleasant, spiteful even, but Todd saw a brief flash of conflicting emotions in Jareth's eyes, a spark of depths Jareth obviously stretched to great lengths to hide. It wasn't much considering he knew nothing of this version of the man, and he wore glamour, but it might just be what he needed to understand him ... and help Sarah.
"Yes, of course Sarah," Todd snapped, tired of his games, seeing why Sarah fought so effortlessly with him. Leisurely, Jareth raised his glass again, sipping slowly, his eyes staring straight ahead, gazing upon the pedestrian face in the public, bar mirror. His face blended with the other plebian mortals seated at the bar.
"Would you believe me if I told you I haven't decided?" As Jareth asked, he gradually turned back to stare at Todd, dropping his glamour for a split second to reveal his true self to one of the few mortals who could see with true Sight. A gift, or curse, as it may be but Jareth chose to trust this Todd with a snippet of his essence. What would the mortal do? It would be an absorbing discovery.
What Todd saw defied all his previous boundaries of reality; a man encompassing significant, ominous power, a swirling vortex of magic balancing on the precipice of good and evil centered by piercing, mismatched eyes. Todd's world shifted and spun. Then the common man sitting beside him at the bar returned, and Todd nearly fall backwards in shock, his equilibrium gone. A strong hand gripping his upper arm steadied him, and Todd regained his balance before meeting Jareth's eyes; they remained the odd, mismatched eyes of his vision not his fake, glamoured ones of before. There were Gerard's, Todd recognized, only infused with immeasurable power.
"Are you quite alight, Todd?" He asked and Todd couldn't decide if he was being sarcastic or not, "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."
Yanking his arm free, he replied sharply, "I'm fine, thanks." Then he remembered that minute flash of softer emotion in Jareth's eyes when he spoke of Sarah and reconsidered.
"If you're telling the truth..." Jareth nodded once, "when you do decide what you're intentions are towards Sarah..." Jareth continued to stare at Todd, impassive, waiting. Todd leaned in close to keep his words private.
"Two things: one-you don't fucking hurt her again or I'll figure out a way to hunt you down." He watched Jareth's eyes narrow and his jaw clench, the muscles next to his ear jumping; but Jareth kept silent. "And two-you talk to her, rationally, calmly, like a real fucking adult. You both have a lot to discuss."
"Are these your only conditions,
Todd?" Jareth replied in a clipped voice, his tone acerbic, and his hand clutching his glass hard enough to blanch his normally pale fingers.
"I'm sure I can think of a few more if you give her trouble,
Jareth." He swore he heard a faint growl emanating from the Goblin King, but the man didn't flinch, cold as an iceberg.
"I will take your words under advisement." Todd could tell how difficult it was for Jareth to say that, even mockingly.
"You do that," said Todd, standing. "Gotta say, never thought I'd prefer Gerard, but he was definitely nicer than you." He added as he walked away, ignoring Jareth's sharp inhale behind him. Probably not the smartest thing he ever did, offending a powerful, mystical being, but damn...if it didn't feel good! Would likely pay for it later, but if it gave Jareth second thoughts about screwing with Sarah's mind again, it would be worth it.
.
.
jsjsjsjsjsjsj
.
.
Materializing within her bedroom was simple enough, forcing himself to approach her, to risk rejection ... that proved extremely difficult, hence the late hour. After his unfortunate communication with the detestable
Todd, who reminded him of a Hoggle with a champion-sized pair of brass balls (where in the name of Danu had that phrase filtered from he wondered, though it seemed apt) insulting him in all manners Hoggle likely fantasized, Jareth decided further stealthy research of Sarah might not be wise with Todd's hovering interference. Best to keep Todd and Hoggle far, far apart was his second decision of the evening.
Even so, hours later, Todd's words still burrowed into Jareth's heart and mind. What were his intentions? How long did he wish to investigate his previous life before chancing anew? As a fae he was used to delaying decisions, being immortal he had no urgent reason to rush ... yet something in the conduct of Todd's speech lead Jareth to believe he should not wait. That Todd, as much as he disliked him as well,
wanted him to approach Sarah but in a more cautious, wiser manner; and in retrospect with his new memories as perspective, Jareth could privately agree that perhaps his first contact with Sarah should've been handled ... better. Not that he'd ever admit such a realization to Todd!
As he appeared in the shadows of her bedroom, he saw her resting peacefully, the blankets tucked around her torso, her long hair tousled over her pillow. A clenching pain weighed in his chest; she looked so vulnerable laying such a short distance away; how easily he could reach for her now, take her, claim her again, and repeat his mistake.
The creaking of his leather gloves alerted him to the tightening of his fists; he hadn't realized how his entire body tensed or how long he stood staring at Sarah from the gloom dissolving from her walls. Even now, in repose, her presence strongly affected him. Blowing out a measured breath through his nostrils, Jareth forced relaxation throughout his frame; he mentally prepared for his next step. How many weeks since he last saw her, heard her voice other than the fragments of stolen words at dinner tonight? Could his limited new understand bring them both the resolution they craved?
He stepped forward, his boots and long cape whispering on the carpet. He dressed for the occasion this time, took special care with his appearance rather than rushing off as some moon-faced youth half-dressed in trousers and shirt. As a Goblin King coming to collect his Queen, however, he dare not wait a moment longer; the tides of magic, fate, and desire whirl-winded about him and he suspected she felt their vicious tugging as well.
Arriving at the edge of her bed, Sarah moaned and shifted in her sleep; she was dreaming; he sensed it, the magic thickly coating her. Tempted to peek, he quickly quashed the thought as foolhardy at so delicate at moment. Instead he outstretched one arm to touch her shoulder, to wake her gently, when she rolled to her back and spoke...
"Jer..."
... His hand poised, frozen, inches from her, Jareth's heart seized—
still she dreamed of him. Though he knew, rationally, his connection to Gerard was real. Though he accepted, finally, that Gerard was irrevocably a part of him as he chose to become mortal; and he wanted to believe part of Sarah truly loved him, Jareth, yet ... Subconscious though it may be, hearing her speak Gerard's name at this moment, this minute, this very precise second which he attempted to strip himself before her emotionally—it could not be borne.
She mumbled something else; he heard none of it as the din of blood pounded in his ears, but not from anger. Though part of him wanted to be angered, he felt so little rage it surprised him. Rather a chasm yawned within his heart, which apparently still beat within his numb chest, and he leaned forward, twisting to place both hands to either side of her head, his cloak draping them. An awkward angle, yet highly intimate when his nose nearly brushed hers; a strange and unexpected bit of peace engulfed Jareth as he inhaled Sarah's scent; it reminded him of his lake retreat. He smelled peaches, fresh water, and new magic.
'
How odd,' he wondered, '
that I never noticed it before.' Her aroma made him dizzy, and he almost lost his balance to collapse upon her unconscious form; his arms quivered as the muscles spasmed. Aghast, Jareth regained control of his functions and concentrated on his altered task.
"Sarah," he murmured, watching her eyes flutter, her dark lashes tickling his cheeks.
"Sarah, I love you more than I dare say or comprehend."
Her face tilted upwards, her lips opening as a flower tilting towards the sun. He shifted to accommodate her movement, bare millimeters separated their faces.
"Before I would've forced you to my will, made you my own as I know you desire me as much as I you..."
Sarah sighed; their lips teasing their edges.
"But I understand better now, I ...
appreciate this small glimpse which I have been gifted ..."
Sarah shifted again, her back arching until their chests titillated each other. Through his leather breast plate, Jareth felt her feminine warmth. Gods, could he do this? He must...
"And I'm setting you free, luv." Jareth said thickly, his voice waning, and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her lightly, savoring the feel of her softness for a moment before vanishing.
.
.
Sarah burrowed further into Gerard's chest, his arms tightening around her; she felt so safe and content in his embrace as they watched the water birds dance over the lake's glittering surface.
"I could stay here forever," she said.
"Me too, luv," he replied, murmuring in her hair, his breath warm on her scalp. "But I'm afraid I have to go soon."
"Go?" She pulled away, leaning back to search his face. "What do you mean?" He smiled, but a twinge of sadness remained in his eyes. One of his hands slid up her back, and tangled in her hair at the base of her neck.
"Oh, luv, I was never meant to stay with you like this."
"But ..."
"Sarah," he caressed her face with his other hand, his fingertips weightless against her skin, "You need to move on. You need to let me go."
"Jer!" Flinging herself at him, Sarah wrapped her arms around his torso, her face smushed to his chest. "Please don't go!"
"I have to. I'm setting you free ... it's time, luv," he said, holding her snug. She heard the tears in his voice, felt the withheld sobs in the tenseness of his muscles.
"Time for what? I don't understand!"
"It's time," his voice deepened minutely, and she looked up suddenly to see Jareth holding her instead of Gerard; the Goblin King wrapped in his midnight cloak and black leather, his eyes oddly wistful and soft, "for me."
"Jer!" Sarah woke with a gasp, a tingling sensation upon her lips and the strange feeling of someone watching her.
"Jareth?" She whispered into the dark of her bedroom which smelled sharply of ozone, yet more caustic and astringent. Dread flooded her, her lower gut first and rapidly rising to constrict her heart. Had he been here? In her bedroom? Strangely, the thought that should inspire anger made her curious. Where had her ire fled? ... Dissolving like sugar candy in the noon sun.
"Jareth?" She said again, louder but he neither spoke nor materialized; her dread worsened. She hadn't noticed or cared at his lack of response when she carelessly spoke his name aloud the last weeks, until now.
"
Jareth?" Why didn't he answer her? For that matter, why hadn't he answered her before? Sliding her legs over the side of her bed, the adrenaline coursed in her veins causing her heart to race and a cold sweat to coat her skin. A sense of finality beset her; he wasn't coming. And this was bad?
"Oh God ..." She moaned, clutching the comforter to her chest and biting her lower lip.
He wasn't coming! And it
was bad! Jer was right; it was time for her to let go, to move on, to confront Jareth with the truth of their mutual circumstances. She needed to talk to him, see him, touch him again. The desire swamped her unexpectedly; she felt as if she might choke as her throat contracted. Waves of severe anxiety hit her.
"Jareth ..." she managed to gasp his name between her still buzzing lips, a feeling she belated recalled only experiencing when Jareth kissed her. He
had been here, in her bedroom, kissing her in her sleep!
"OhGodohGodohGod..." she chanted.
Why? Why would he stalk her, yet leave before she woke? Had he done so before? Did he not wish to speak with her? The implications dogged her anxious mind; he remained steadfastly absent. Something fundamental between them changed this very night; she felt it as if comprehending her own state of hunger or sleeplessness, and it wasn't all due to her dreams. A taut, stretching awareness tugged at her viscera, not wholly unpleasant yet not good either. She felt ...
brittle.
"Jareth, what've you done?" If she felt this way what did he, with his magic, feel? Abruptly, she worried he suffered, wondered at his current state of health, and she tentatively focused internally and reached out to him, instinctively knowing she could find him thusly. A hint, the tiniest allusion of his grip upon her, then the taste was cut off, severed before her next full inhalation completed.
"Wh—?" Gripping the sides of her head, Sarah fell backwards to her bed, dizzy and nauseated; the feeling of being shut out and off incredibly distinct.
"The bastard kicked me out!" She slammed her hands to the mattress. "
He kicked
me out!"
.
.
jsjsjsjsjsjsj
.
.
Jareth felt her tendril of consciousness snap back at his rejection, and gritted his teeth, agitated as he stood at his balcony overlooking midnight covering his labyrinth. So close ... so close to his heart's desire yet to be exposed to Sarah's continued true feelings. She did not love him. She would not, could not ever love the Goblin King. Head bowed and platinum hair sheering about his face, Jareth bend forward, his hands bracing his weight on the railing while his body, engulfed by his caliginous cloak, merged with the Underground's night.
She did not love him. Why could he not be angry? Why, in his anguished realization, did he feel emptiness when before his alteration wrath would rule his heart? Was
this the reality of love, rejected, unrequited? To know that which he merely sampled and lost; to live out his remainder in loneliness and despair; the purity of rage stolen from him by true love?
Tremors suffused his arms at supporting the majority of his weight for his legs were leaden, no longer belonging to him. Surely his heart stop beating before he left Sarah's home for he felt no rhythm in his chest, yet he lived on. When she quested for his consciousness ... how she accomplished such a task, unknown to him ... he soundly rebuffed her, unwilling to subject himself to further humiliations for her pleasure. No more ... no more ... She must have woken as he departed; her ire ruffled and wished to engage in battle, always willing to aggravate and snub him.
"You win, Sarah," he said quietly to the night air, despondent. "I have set you free of my intentions. Call upon me no longer."
jsjsj
A/N: Sorry to end ya'll on another cliffy ... wait, no I'm not, muhahahaha! Hope ya'll are still enjoying "Within Dreams" I know it seems unlikely that they'll ever figure things out, but next chapter is more of a whirlwind. Enjoy and thanks for all the reviews and 5 pluses! Wow! So wonderful! This has been my most popular story and one of my most fun to write.
Enjoy!
Jinx
:o)
