Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Labyrinth characters; they are the property of Jim Henson.
Author's Note: Um... wow. It's been forever (or close to it) since I've updated this story. My deepest apologies. I will try very very hard to update more regularly. I hope, for those of you who still want to read it, that this chapter doesn't disappoint. Thank you for reading.

Jareth quietly crept into Sarah's room. Standing at her bedside he couldn't help but wonder when she would awake. It had already been three days. He sighed and gently brushed a piece of her hair away from her face.

"Oh, Sarah. You never make things easy, do you?," he whispered.

A small smile touched his lips, but quickly faded. He moved to the open window across from Sarah's bed. He had spent every bit of his free time sitting there. Jareth sighed once again and sat with his back pressed against the side of the window. He propped his leg in front of him as he looked out over his Labyrinth. He summoned a crystal and lazily rolled it in his hand.

He couldn't understand why it was taking her so long to wake up. His healer had said Sarah should be awake the next day. When it became clear that she would not be waking up that day, he had told him that perhaps she did not wish to wake. That, you can imagine, did not go well. Jareth had raged through the entire night. He had destroyed at least four rooms of his castle and had terrified all of his goblins. He had had to spend the next day repairing everything he had broken. That alone guaranteed his foul mood that day.

Jareth let his mind wander to Sarah's first visit to the Underground. His most cherished memory was the masked ball he had created for her. He often replayed that dance. Of course, he always did leave out the last bit. He never did feel quite the same about those chairs. In fact, he had them burned. He let himself get lost in the memory, absentmindedly singing out loud.

Sarah slowly returned from the land of dreams. She lay there, just listening and trying to determine her surroundings by touch. Her fingers tightened in... sheets? Shouldn't she be on the floor? A deep breath filled her senses with a scent that most definitely was not her apartment. She laid there for a moment, her mind racing. 'Oh, god.' Where was she? And what was that sound? Someone talking? No. That was singing. She forced herself to listen. 'Mornings of gold? Who sang about mornings of gold? Weird.' She listened a little longer. Her body went rigid. She knew that song and the voice that was singing it. 'No. Nonononono. It can't be.' She took a calming breath. Maybe this was all a dream. It had to be.

Sarah cracked her eyes open, squinting against the harsh light of the room. She looked down at herself. 'Okay. I'm in a bed. A really nice bed.' She looked across the room. 'Door. Wall. Ow.' She slammed her eyes shut. 'Window.' Her breath caught in her throat. Sitting in the window was someone Sarah never thought she'd see again. Jareth. She lay there frozen for a moment. Her mind was shouting at her body to move. Finally her body caught up with her. With a small shriek she jerked up and scrambled backwards. Her head swam with the movement and her abdomen throbbed with pain. Sarah felt herself start to fall backwards.

Jareth snapped his head in direction of the sound. He felt relief flood him. She was awake. His relief was short lived, however, as he saw her start to go over the edge of the bed. In an instant he was on the bed and caught her wrist, pulling her back up.

"You are awake," he stated.

Sarah only nodded, staring down at his gloved hand holding her wrist. She slowly started to slide her hand out of his grasp, but winced in pain at the slight movement.

"Sarah? Are you in pain?," Jareth tried to look at her face.

He attempted to touch her cheek, only to have her flinch and shrink away from him. She glanced up at his face and saw hurt flash in his eyes. He dropped his gaze and frowned. She followed his eyes down.,

"Shit," she said. There was a rapidly growing blood spot forming on her nightgown.

"Do not get up," Jareth told her and then left the room.

Several hours and serious warnings from the healer later, Sarah lay in bed staring up at the stone ceiling and wondering why she was still alive. Had Jareth really saved her? She would've thought he would be pleased to hear of her demise... if he remembered her at all. She allowed herself to think over what had happened four nights ago. Tears leaked from the corners of her closed eyes. 'Why? Why did he come for me?' She didn't know, but she promised herself she would find out.

Sarah lifted her head a little and wiped her eyes with the sheet when she heard a light knock on her door. The door creaked open and a goblin with a tray balanced on it's head came stumbling through. 'Is that... soup? This can't be good.' From what she remembered about goblins they weren't the most graceful of creatures. The little creature jumped and slid the tray on to her bed. Sarah winced expecting the hot liquid to slosh out and burn her. When she finally opened her eyes the little goblin was already running out the door.

She stared down warily at the bowl and took a cautious sniff. 'It seems alright.' She dipped her spoon in the soup, stuck out her tongue and barely touched it to the spoon. 'Well, nothing horrible happened.' And so she ate it. All. As soon as she sat the bowl back on to the tray, the goblin from before came and snatched the tray off the bed and ran back out the door. 'Social little things.' With that thought she laid down again and stared out the window.

Jareth paced outside of Sarah's door. He growled at himself. 'How long am I going to stand out here?' With that he forced himself to open the door. Sarah jumped at the sound of her door opening and her heart started to pound at the sight of who exactly had opened it. Jareth simply stood there and stared at her. She shifted uncomfortably and that seemed to snap him of his thoughts.

"How are you this evening," Jareth asked.

"I-I'm, um, alright," Sarah's voice was quiet.

"The healer has told me that you are to stay in bed as much as possible and to be extremely careful with you're movements," Jareth spoke as he walked around Sarah's room, looking at everything but her.

"I'm sorry," Sarah blurted suddenly.

Jareth turned and looked at her like she was crazy. "What ever for?"

"I must be causing you a lot of trouble," she whispered.

"You are not. Even if that were the case, it would not matter," Jareth's tone made no room for any argument.

Sarah simply nodded, even though she was not convinced. She sat up slowly and glanced at him. 'He hasn't changed. Not really.' He looked just the same as he had all those years ago. Though, when she looked close enough, maybe he did look a little less cruel.

"I see you are tired. I shall leave you then," Jareth's voice broke her from her thoughts.

Just as he reached the door, Sarah spoke, "Why did... why did you come for me?"

Jareth turned toward her once again, with a small and slightly wistful smile, He spoke quietly, "Because you asked."

He turned away from her and closed the door behind him. The deafening sound of the door closing made tears burst from her eyes. She cried for everything in that moment. Every bit of hurt and sadness. That one tiny sentence made her feel as if her heart were breaking.

Sarah cried herself to sleep that night.

Author's Note: Thank you reading! I hope you will review and tell me what you think. Hope you have a lovely day!