Chapter 17: Below, Below, Below

Friday, July 22, 2011, 9:02 PM

The door closed behind the Goblin King with a thud that was too loud, far too loud. Toby let his hands fall to the floor, and for a moment, it was all he could do to just breathe. He clenched his fingers in the carpet, fingernails catching in the cheap fibers, and used the action to ground himself: pressure on his fingertips, and air moving in and out of his lungs, and oh God, that was the Goblin King, and Toby had never taken him seriously, and what the fuck, why hadn't Sarah warned him, why had he let this into his life, this crazy terrifying truth that such a being as the Goblin King existed in the universe?

In and out. In and out.

Slowly, his heart rate began to slow, his breathing to return to normal. Sarah wouldn't let him be hurt. She wouldn't. She loved him. She lived here. She wanted to learn to play video games.

She might need him.

He set his feet and pushed, using the wall to raise himself up, and regained his feet just as Sarah's door opened. He blinked a moment, centering himself, and when he opened his eyes, Sarah stood before him, holding Ruthie in her arms.

She will look at you with those green eyes you find so beguiling…. He waited.

"I—" she stopped and looked down. "I need you to watch her, tonight. I know I've never asked you to do that before, but…. It shouldn't be hard. She will sleep through." She met his eyes briefly, then looked away, guilt clear in her face.

"You used magic on her? You said that was harmful!" He was momentarily distracted from the why by the sheer fact of the what. She'd never put Ruthie to sleep with magic before, even when the child was driving her crazy.

"I… He did," she admitted, and Toby clenched his teeth, anger again surging over fear. He was going to kill the fucking Goblin King, if this hurt his girl. "But it's okay—rarely. Doing it all the time would be bad, and I didn't want to get in the habit." This time, when she looked at him she met his eyes and held. "Please, Toby, I…." She broke off, and held his eyes, and hers were so very strange, and wild; but he could see love and worry and compassion… and then she turned from him, just her head, looking back towards her room, with a look on her face that he'd never seen before. I miss the fucking Goblin King was there, but so was hope, and fear, and a sort of burning fire for which he had no name. I'm still… his. And he's mine. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she'd told him that.

And he was a fucking idiot fool, a stupid child, a heartsick boy, but he couldn't do anything but take Ruth in his arms, where she settled, a dead weight pulling at his shoulders. He cuddled her close, a comfort in loneliness.

You will find yourself unable to say her nay.

"Sarah," he said, when she started to walk away from him, and she stopped, but didn't look back.

"Yes?"

"Are… are you okay?"

She waited a moment before answering. "I believe I will be."

"What are you going to do?"

"Talk to him."

"Sarah…."

"Toby, I need to go."

"Sarah, wait." He grabbed her arm, spinning her forcibly around, and she shook him off, angrily. He swallowed. "Will you still be here, tomorrow?"

The anger in her eyes faded, and she smiled gently. "I hope so."

He couldn't think of anything else to say to make Sarah come back to him, tell him more about what she was thinking and what her Fucking Goblin King might do. All he could do was let her go and cuddle Ruthie, hold her close. Released, Sarah moved away from him, back towards her door. When she reached it, she looked back at him, still standing there like a statue, and smiled, briefly, before disappearing inside.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and shifted Ruthie closer still. She was very warm, against his chest; comforting, but not the warmth he wanted. The warmth he wanted had just walked away, back to her Goblin King.

He swallowed hard, willing down the tears that wanted to come into his eyes. I miss the fucking Goblin King had diminished in frequency, but not in intensity, over their time together. Ever since they had fought in April, it had almost disappeared, driven back by her newfound interests and friends; by Ruth's growth; and, he hoped, by his love.

Those green eyes you find so beguiling…. Tears welled in his eyes, and he dashed them away, angry. Was she fucking playing him? Was that all this had ever been, some sick game? Play on his loneliness, his weakness, make him fucking love her just so she could use him for a little while, a convenient source of the roof over her head and the clothes on her back, until her goblin lover showed up and claimed her?

Oh God, if it was all a lie….

He thought back to all the times she had smiled at him, the way she'd leaned on him, the way she'd been so moved, that first week, by his every friendly gesture. I'm glad I got the chance to meet you all grown up. And the fairy godmother stuff. And the way she'd smiled at him when he held Ruth the first time. The way she'd thrown herself into his arms and let him swing her around when he told her she could stay. All the secrets she'd told him, everything they'd shared. The way they cuddled up to watch television. The way she watched for his moods and always cheered him up.

He'd doubted before, but he'd always been able to talk himself out of the doubt. But now….

If it was a lie, if it was all an act, she deserved a fucking Oscar.

If it was all a lie, if he'd been played, he'd—there'd be—there was—no. Can't even think it. She might never love him like he dreamed, but he'd be damned if he'd believe she never loved him at all.

He laid Ruth in the center of his bed and went to brush his teeth. Forcing his focus onto that mundane task cleared his mind a little further, and he pushed down, down, burying worry, and fear, and resentment.

Sarah loved him. She must.

It is I who will feel her hands, her lips….

He didn't want to think it.

Her lips, her breasts, her arousal….

The mocking mental voice even maintained the Goblin King's intonations. And Sarah….

I'm still… his. And he's mine. And if—when—he does come… well, then we'll see.

He spat into the sink and rinsed his mouth, and choked on his next exhale, and when he straightened and looked into the mirror there were tears standing in his eyes.

All there is is this—this petty, small world, that I can't be part of because nothing here will last.

They had never really spoken about what would happen, if the Goblin King came. She had never said anything more than, "We'll see," and he had never pressed. Why hadn't he pressed? They should have talked about this. There should have been a plan.

He ducked his head, and splashed water on his face, shocking away the tears and the worry.

The towel was soft, and he suddenly remembered that they used to be kind of prickly, because he'd never invested in anything nice. Sarah had done this.

In his room, Ruth had scrunched her way up the bed, her head almost resting on the pillow he usually used. He looked out into the living room, where her Pack 'N Play was loosely folded and leaning into the corner, then looked back at Ruth on his bed.

She looked comfortable, there.

His bed was a queen, and was set up against the wall. Surely she'd be safe, sleeping there, with his body between her and the edge? And… and if he slept on Sarah's side, at least part of the Goblin King's prophecy—the only part he, Toby, could truly control—wouldn't come true.

He slipped on a t-shirt and some boxers, and pulled the covers back, easing them gently out from under the sleeping child. He plugged in his phone, lay down, and flicked off the bedside light.

Faint light still came in from the windows, the omnipresent city glow—and maybe also the moon—giving just enough light that he could see Ruth, scrunched up against his pillow, her knees folded under and her butt in the air. He reached out to her, and ran a hand over her head, and closed his eyes.

Sarah would go nowhere without the child. So long as Ruth was here, the story wasn't over.

He lay there, in the dark, and tried to remember that. Eventually, the child's gentle breathing lulled him to sleep.

He woke to the smell of coffee and something hard and poky digging into the small of his back. He rolled away from the uncomfortable Thing, and just barely saved himself from falling out of the bed with a hand to the nightstand. Right. The edge was much closer than normal, because he'd let Ruth sleep in the bed with him. And, he realized as he rolled over gingerly, it had been her feet attempting to burrow through to his spine.

Blinking, he brought the clock into focus. There was coffee, so Sarah was up (and still here, which was a relief, even though he hadn't really been worried), but she was an early riser, and Ruth was still asleep.

9:21.

Ruth was still asleep.

He had stayed asleep. Why had he stayed asleep? Twelve-hour nights happened, now, but not often, and not when he wasn't exhausted. Had he somehow been influenced, like Ruth had? Clearly it was more than a simple thing, making someone sleep, if Ruth had been down all night and was still going.

But the apartment smelled of coffee, and that meant Sarah was here. If not for his unusual wake-up call, he might have been tempted to pretend that last night had been a dream, that He hadn't shown up at all.

Still, Sarah was here.

He picked Ruth up and moved her to the center of the bed, where she settled without stirring. Then, he stood, and stretched, and opened his door.

Sarah sat at the kitchen table, looking down into a mug clasped tightly in her hands. She looked up when he entered, and gave him a little smile. "Good morning."

"Morning." He looked around. The kitchen was empty. So was the living room. Sarah's bedroom door was open.

"He isn't here," Sarah said, when he looked down at her again. "Can I make you breakfast?"

Toby poured himself coffee and sat down at the table. "Where is he?"

"I don't know." Her voice sounded strange, and he looked up from stirring in his sugar. He had expected to see good old I miss the fucking Goblin King in her face, but… she looked happy. Peaceful. Content. She wasn't torn, wasn't sad, wasn't afraid, wasn't anything but here, at his table, with him, without the Goblin King.

"Sarah, I…."

"Want pancakes?" She smiled at him again.

"I… yeah. Thanks."

By the time he emerged from the shower he was walking on air. True, Sarah hadn't said that the Goblin King was gone for good, but she'd sat with him and answered his questions over breakfast—at least until Ruth woke up and demanded attention—and he'd been letting his imagination pursue all the hopes that he'd kept bottled up last night. Despite his boasts, the Goblin King hadn't stayed all night—had in fact left sometime in the early hours of the morning, Sarah had told him, still smiling. That smile, more than anything else, let him throw off the memory of gloved steel at his throat, the rasping threatening voice, and imagine that now they would go on as they always had, happy and together and whole, without that phantom presence always on their heels.

He threw on jeans and a t-shirt, running a hand through his hair to make sure it was reasonably well-ordered. The sun streaming in the window promised a beautiful day; maybe they could all go to a park, together? Ruth was becoming more and more of a person instead of a lump, and Sarah would like that, for all three of them to be together, now that the Goblin King was gone.

He was humming almost before he'd realized it, something about the cadence of the words Goblin King stirring a memory of a song. He's gone where the goblins go, below—below—below.

Delighted, and still trying to place exactly what he was singing, he threw open his bedroom door. Ding, dong the Goblin King is—

Sitting on his couch.

Toby stopped in the doorway, breath caught in his throat, all those happy dreams crumbling to dust. "Where is he?" "I don't know." If he had returned to the Underground, she would have know where he was. And then Toby, jealous, had asked about when he left—useless question—and Ruth had woken up and distracted them before he got around to "do you know if he's coming back."

He closed his eyes a moment, schooling his features. She had answered his questions truthfully, but not really honestly. She had to have known what he was really asking, but she had answered the letter instead of the intent, and he had been foolish enough to let her. Idiot. Hadn't he played this game often enough for her, with strangers? He knew how it worked, and yet he'd let himself be taken in.

When he opened his eyes, the Goblin King was watching him, intently, as though he could see straight into his soul. Based on last night… perhaps he could. Then he smiled, and leaned back into the couch, crossing one ankle on his knee, his self-assurance claiming not just the couch, but the entire room. "Tobias," he said softly. "Good morning."

"Morning," Toby said stiffly. He sat down in an armchair and reached for his laptop, more for something to do than actual need. Around the edge of the screen, he saw the Goblin King pick something up off the side table, holding it casually in one hand. Ignoring the man, he logged into the computer and opened his email, but as he'd just checked it from his phone in the bedroom, there was really nothing there. Facebook also failed to provide a distraction; these days it seemed to be nothing but pictures of happily coupled friends on exotic vacations, enjoying everything he didn't have. He had just called up Twitter, desperate enough to search for trending hashtags, when Sarah entered, Ruth on her hip.

He snapped his laptop shut, shoving it to the side, and Sarah stopped where she stood, mouth closing on whatever she had been about to say. As he stood up and moved towards his sister, the Goblin King, in the corner of his eye, lowered whatever was in his hands and turned to watch.

Sarah raised her brows, and then took two steps forwards and deposited Ruth in the Goblin King's lap. To Toby's surprise, the Goblin King accepted the child readily, and she pushed herself up against his chest, grabbing at his strange, wispy hair as he smiled at her, oddly warm.

Nonplussed, Toby turned to follow Sarah as she moved away, towards the kitchen. "Good with children" had not been anywhere in his mental image of the man Sarah had so often mentioned. True, there had been Ciro, but he had been Sarah's responsibility.

Then again, the man did steal children for a living. Charming them probably came with the territory. Uneasy, he looked back at the couch, frowning.

"He isn't going to hurt her," Sarah said with a small laugh. "She's already his."

"She—what?"

"I took her away Above," Sarah shrugged, "but I couldn't—and wouldn't—break her ties to the Underground. We need her. That's part of the reason I couldn't return her to her mother, like you said I should do when we met."

What had Sarah told him, then? Something about Ruth's mother thinking she was dead? January seemed impossibly far away: a different life, not a matter of months.

He closed his eyes, lips pressed together, reentering himself. Sarah was distracting him again: he had been angry and now he was mostly just confused.

"You should have told me he wasn't gone for good," he said, calling up as much of his leftover anger as he could. He turned to face her directly, standing between her and the pair on the sofa.

Sarah's eyes flicked over his shoulder, and then back to Toby's face. "I decided not to."

"Why?"

"I wanted him here for this conversation, if I could; I would have told you, had you asked."

"Yeah," Toby rolled his eyes. "Already figured that one out. God, Sarah, you—this fucking dancing. Does it ever stop?"

She smiled, then, a little sadly. "Maybe someday I won't have anything to conceal."

"Well, what was it this time?"

"I wanted you both here for this conversation." She glanced over his shoulder again, and he took a step closer, filling her visual space. "Jareth and I have something to tell you together."

He dropped his head. This was it, then: exactly what he'd feared. Why hadn't she just left in the night—why make this harder? "You're leaving."

"No," she said, and, wait, no?

"What?"

"No, we aren't leaving. I'm staying here, with Ruth, to give her a chance to grow up."

"I—that's, that's great, Sarah!" He smiled. She was staying.

"And you will go with Jareth."

It took a second for that to sink in, and then the anger was back, stronger and sharper and painful.

"No."

"Toby—"

"No!"

"If you would just listen—"

"I said no."

"But if—"

"Fuck you, Sarah."

Toby's head hit the wall with a crack. Fucking Goblin King, Toby hadn't even seen him move, and now he had Toby pinned against the wall, one arm across his chest. The other, somewhat incongruously, held Ruth, who looked a little windblown and surprised by her sudden translocation. Had the man actually teleported? Her face scrunched up, which might mean she would cry, and—

"You will respect your sister," the Goblin King said coldly, and Toby focused on him again.

"Jareth." Sarah spoke softly, her tone moderated from the frustrated anger of a moment ago. He could just see her, out of the corner of his eye, as she collected Ruth from the Goblin King's grasp, soothing the child's blooming distress. He couldn't turn to look at her, though: the pressure of the Goblin King's arm had not abated, and he couldn't help but keep his attention on the threat.

Even if Sarah might be a threat too. She had distracted him, had lied to him in all but the most technical sense, and now she wanted to send him to the fucking Labyrinth that she had rescued him from as a child? What sort of twisted, hurtful, bullshit game was she even playing?

The Goblin King turned his eyes towards Sarah, and Toby relaxed, just a touch, rolling his head on his neck but not doing anything to fight against that more-than-human strength. No point to it: he'd have to wait on an opportunity where he could use surprise, if he wanted to take the Goblin King down.

Sarah and the Goblin King looked at each other for a moment more, and then the Goblin King dropped his restraining arm, but did not move away. "Nothing will change," he said, to Sarah.

"No. What's said is said," she answered, and he nodded, then turned cold, emotionless eyes to meet Toby's again. After a few seconds, Toby looked away.

Fucking Goblin King.

When he looked up, the Goblin King was gone.

Toby reached up and rubbed at his chest. "He likes doing that. Pushing me around. Did it yesterday too."

"What did you say?"

"Why do you think I said something?" Toby exclaimed, pushing away from the wall and pacing across the room.

"You did, didn't you?" He glared at her, and then turned away. "I know you, Toby. You make decisions with your heart; it can be admirable, but it means sometimes you don't think before you speak. You know he's dangerous. Do you gain anything from pushing his buttons?"

"What the—yes. Yes! Sarah, he's the bad guy. You're supposed to resist him. It's why you left him the first place!"

"If you really think that, then you have never listened to me at all."

"You just can't see it." He turned back towards her, arms crossed. "You just made him all rosy because he kept you. It's that… that prisoners loving their jailers thing. It's not real. You gave up your whole life—you left me—for a lie!"

Sarah adjusted Ruth to one side, watching him calmly. "It's called Stockholm Syndrome, and you don't know what you're talking about."

"You've been talking about him and the Labyrinth since you arrived. When you got here you were mad at him. You wanted to stay away from him. And he comes back and suddenly you just do whatever he wants?" He shook his head. "I really don't know what else to call it, or—or—" his voice broke a bit, "how he could convince you to send me back there. You fought for me. Doesn't that mean anything?" And fuck, now his voice was trembling. He blinked hard, forcing anger back over the threatening tears.

"It means everything, Toby," Sarah said softly. "But what it means most of all is that he could never take you without my consent. It was so far outside of his thoughts that he was shocked when I suggested it."

"I—" Wait—what? "When you suggested it?" Shock made his voice soft, a match to hers.

"Yes. Listen to Jareth, he will help you."

"He—" Toby scoffed.

"He will, as he loves me."

He looked into her eyes, into the almost-familiar alien beauty of her true face, and could read nothing there. Had he ever known her at all?

"I don't want to go," he whispered.

"You don't, now," she said softly, "but I'm not giving you a choice. I love you, Toby." She came close, and cupped his cheek in her hand, and he could not draw away. "This way, I might get to keep you." She pulled her hand away and stepped back, gathering Ruth close. "I've told you so much, Toby. Remember. I love you."

He stared, for a long moment, but before he could form a reply, strong hands gripped his shoulders and pulled, and the world went black.

A/N: The song Toby is paraphrasing is, of course, "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" from The Wizard of Oz. The chapter title is from the same source.

Much love as always to my dear etcetera nine, who told me that the first draft of this chapter wasn't up to snuff, and was absolutely right. Finishing this chapter can also be credited to WhenasInSilks, whose reviews, conversation, and love for my Toby got the wheels spinning faster again to get that first draft of this finished. Constructive reviews and thoughtful commentary fire me like nothing else, so… you know what to do.