Note: When I started this, I swear to Chuck it was a one-shot. I had no real plans for it. I was just going where the story led, and I think it's lead me here. Thirteen seems like a good number, given the fandom, and it feels like it's drawing to a close. I'm starting this segment with the intent that it will be the final one.

There may or may not be a sequel. I have ideas, but if I write them out it will most likely be in the 'proper story format' I so blatantly ignored with this one. (Hey, I said it was an experiment at the start – if you've stuck with me 'til now, thank you so much. You guys are troopers.) Also keep in mind that I'm a college student – I started this story back in. . .oh, wow. I want to say August 2010. I'm only just now finishing/posting (August 2011 as I write this) because of school and life. I've gotten into the practice of posting a chapter story only after it's finished, as I like to know I can definitely tell the readers there is an 'end', so updates for things like this take me a while.

Long in short: There may or may not be a sequel, but if there is it will most likely be a long time coming. To everyone who's read this, and especially if you've enjoyed it, thank you so much. I'd be writing even if the story just sat festering in a notebook, but hearing your feedback always makes the process a bit sweeter.

'Til the shout,

Ver

What Babe?

Twelve: Egress

In the morning, someone arrives at her door. Knocks. Enters. Brings her out to the common room. She sits in her chair by the window, looking out over the parking lot where the cars come and go too infrequently until Charlie comes over with the pills. At lights out, someone comes and escorts her back to her room. She thinks she sleeps. She's not too sure anymore. Consciousness blurs with the un, and she can't be certain of much anymore.

She doesn't remember how long it's been like this. Since her birthday, she thinks, but who knows how long ago that was. She's too tired to keep track anymore.

She's taken to sleepwalking or nightly strolls or whatever they could be called. If she avoids the orderlies, she's fine. Even if she runs into them they don't care – know she's harmless. And it's a quiet song, a little niggling of something forgotten, that leads her most nights – tonight. To that door in the hall that should have been locked. It usually is.

Not tonight.

Someone's messed up, just like she did the night…

He's just a crying baby – can't help it, really, and she wouldn't be surprised if he was ill on top of it all – but she's young and frustrated with a headache to boot, and she just can't take it anymore.

It was just a careless wish, careless words tossed out in a fit of selfishness and spite. She never expected anyone to answer. She never expected any of it to be real (even when every fiber in her being screamed that it always had been, always would be).

She did this. She's to blame, no matter what they say, and looking down at the empty crib…

But her head swims, because for the first time in months the lies aren't good enough anymore. Lies? No. Not lies. He's the lie, he's the…

Peach dreams swim in her mind as she opens the door, climbs the steps. Peach dreams painting mornings of gold and valentine evenings, and she…

She lost the Labyrinth, didn't she? Lost Toby?

She doesn't understand. He was right there, on the blanket, with Jareth's crystals forming a cage-like spell to keep him safe inside. Where could he have gone? Why isn't he there? Why…why…

She sees it, then: one of the crystals, moved just the slightest. Just enough to let Toby out.

The goblins have grown silent. Jareth is beside her, reassuring her – they will find him. He's just a babe; surely he could not have gone far? All will be well. They'll –

The screech of tires and the wailing of a horn stop her world.

She's running without making a conscious decision to do so; out of the backyard, around the house, to the street. To the sporty red car with the boy not much older than her stepping out from behind the wheel. She sees the crumpled heap, and someone's screaming. Is it her?

It's too much exertion when she's been still so long – too long. The climb makes her dizzy, but as her head swims she pushes further. Climbs higher. Step, step, step. Reaches a landing, sees the darkened hall in the rectangle of glass and hears the screams of the worst patients beyond, and keeps climbing.

Her mind isn't working right. That wasn't what happened. She lost the Labyrinth, the Goblin King is her enemy, and Toby…her brother is a goblin, safe in his kingdom. A goblin, but alive.

Isn't he?

Blood flows, painting her in a macabre red as she holds his little body close. No, no, no, no, no…

She doesn't hear Jareth until he's kneeling beside her, a shaking gloved hand reaching out, paused by the blonde curls matted with…oh, God, no…

But she remembers. He told her, so long ago, what happens with the children he keeps. He'll only turn them goblin when there's no other way, when they'll die without the magic. He can save him, and the desperation and request are clear in her eyes as she looks up at him. His eyes are wide, the pupils dilated to where they're almost matching. He looks so pale, as if he's going into shock.

"Save him," she says, and it's not a wish. Not a request. She commands it – orders it. Demands. Her arms are steady as she holds the body out to the Goblin King. She knows he can do this, has every confidence in her beloved king. His gaze is torn from the babe, settles on her…and he looks terrified. It's an emotion she's never seen him display before, and one that she thinks she could have lived forever without seeing. Fear does not suit the Goblin King at all.

"I can't," he says, and the words are choked from his mouth. Like he can't say them; like he doesn't want to. Like it's admitting a weakness, a defeat, and he hates it so very, very much.

"Liar! You said…you said you turn them! When there's no other way, you turn them – turn him! Turn him, Jareth, before…before…oh, God…" she gasps. She looks down at Toby, and he's so mangled and…and… "I'd rather him survive as a goblin than…"

"Sarah, I…I can't save what's already lost," he whispers. "I have great power, but even I am limited…"

Another landing, but this time the door's on the opposite wall. Stars beyond.

"I move the stars for no one…"

"I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you!"

She gasps down air and pushes the door open. Stumbles into the cool night. She shouldn't be out here – they'll panic when they discover her missing. But she can't think, can't…can't…her mind is swimming with falsities and half-truths, and she feels like she'll be ill with it. In her mind she sees her brother, but she can't remember what's happened to him. She's confused, so confused, and her head aches.

Her eyes open blearily, and she sees the sky. The roof. She's on the roof. It's covered in gravel, and it crunches as she sinks to her knees and watches the stars. What happened? What happened all that time ago, after she had run the Labyrinth and returned Above? Why was it so foggy? So…

In her heart, in the deepest, darkest place of her mind, a little voice whispers that she knows. She just doesn't like what's there – doesn't want to accept it. Because if she accepts it…if she admits it, even to herself…

"You can reorder time – you can take us back, to when…or slow, so he'll…you…you have to, Jareth. He can't…he can't…" her words are tumbling out in a confused heap, and she's so scared and hurt and why won't he save him? Why is he going to let her brother d…d…

"Sarah, my power is limited in your world. I cannot control the time Above," he whispers, his voice strained and flat. "He's gone, Sarah. I cannot reorder time to save him, and it's too late to turn him. I'm…I'm so sorry, precious th-"

He's reached out to touch her, to brush her hair away from her face, but she screams and slaps him away. No, no, no, no, no…this can't be happening, it can't! Toby is…Toby is…no, no, no…

He had told her what happens to the children he keeps, the ones who are too far beyond repair to survive any other way besides magic. He's never told her what happens when even that's not enough.

But…no. That wasn't what had happened at all, was it?

She pushes herself up, steady for the first time in oh so long, and glares at the end of the roof. The gravel crunches under her bare feet as she walks, but the pebbles are smooth and don't bite her skin the way her mind bites at her.

There was no accident. She had lost. Toby was still safe, a goblin in the Underground, and Jareth…the Goblin King...

"Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be…" she whispers, looking down over the lip of the roof and into the lit parking lot below. The hoot of an owl carries on the whipping breeze, and she thinks she hears the fluttering of a cape behind her.

But no, because that would be impossible. Goblins do not exist, after all, and neither do their kings. It's simply an old nursery rhyme, pretty words used to scare children into behaving. Just words.

Just the right words.

"…take this memory of mine far away from me," she breathes, and her eyes slide close as she…

…lets go.