Standard Fanfiction Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations created and dramatized by Terry Jones, Brian Froud, Jim Henson, David Bowie, et al. I do not own Labyrinth, nor am I making any money from it.

Chapter 8: Brave New World

Sarah didn't hear any more. The world went silent around her. She was dimly aware of Karen's voice, speaking from a long way off. The hand holding her phone fell to her side, forgotten.

David gently took the phone from her and spoke into it. "Hello? Mrs. Williams? My name is David, David Jones-King. I'm a friend of Sarah's. Can you please tell me what's happened?" He paused, listening. "Yes, Sarah's still here, but she's a bit…overwhelmed at the moment. I'll pass on any information you can give me." He sat down on the couch, gently pulling Sarah down beside him. She followed him without resistance. David put his arm around her as he listened to Karen.

Slowly, sound returned to Sarah's world. She could make out a word here and there coming from the phone: "car accident"; "drunk driver"; and, most chilling of all, "coma."

She heard David's responses to Karen, "Yes. Yes. I understand. Where can I reach you?" He stood and crossed the room to Sarah's desk, picked up a pen, and began jotting down notes on a pad of paper. "And what is your address? And the name of the hospital? Room 421? In the ICU. I see. Yes. We'll be on the first available flight. Don't worry; I'll get her there safely. Yes. Thank you for letting us know. We'll see you soon." He ended the call and returned to the couch to sit beside Sarah. He put one arm around her and spoke very gently. "Sarah?" She turned vacant eyes to face him. "Sarah, can you hear me?"

She nodded.

"Good. Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Can you do that?"

She nodded again.

"All right." David took a deep breath and, turning his body towards her, took both of her hands in his. "Sarah, your father has been in a car accident." He paused and watched her reaction. Not seeing any, he went on, "He is alive, but he is in a coma."

Sarah just stared at him.

"Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"All right, good. Karen thinks you should fly home to the States as soon as possible. Do you want to do that?"

Sarah drew a shuddering breath. "Yes." She was surprised she could speak again.

David nodded. "Good." He stood up, fished his phone out of his jacket pocket, and began to scroll through his contacts.

Sarah stared up at him, dazed. "Who are you calling?"

"Trevor."

She felt so lost. "Who's Trevor?"

"My assistant."

Why did nothing make sense? "You have an assistant?"

"Yes." He tapped something on his phone and then put the device to his ear.

Sarah stared across the room and blinked several times. Something was wrong about this. What was it? Oh, right. "You're calling him now?"

David gave her a strange look. "Of course. Why not?"

"Because it's Valentine's Day." That's it; that's what was wrong.

"So?"

"He might have plans tonight." Can't disturb Trevor on Valentine's Day. That just wouldn't do.

"I don't care. I need him to make travel arrangements. He can resume his amorous activities later. Hello? Trevor? Good. Now, listen closely."

She only half listened to David give instructions to his assistant. Dad was in a car accident. Dad was in a coma. No, that couldn't be right. How could he be in two places at once? Nothing made sense.

She realized David was speaking to her again and looked up at him blankly. "What?"

"I said, 'What is your full name?' Trevor needs it for your plane ticket."

"Sarah Regina Williams," she replied automatically.

David gave her a funny look.

"What?"

"Your name is Princess Queen?" he asked.

"Yeah. So?"

"Nothing." He turned back to the phone and relayed the information to the invisible Trevor. After a few more minutes, he ended the call and sat down beside her again.

"How do you feel?"

"How do I feel?" What an odd question. She didn't feel anything.

"Sarah." The concern on David's voice was palpable. "Sarah, do you feel well?"

"Well," Sarah repeated. "That's a deep subject." She began to laugh hysterically. Then, just as suddenly, her laughter gave way to sobbing. "David," she choked out.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, holding her tight against him. Sarah's sobs shook them both. Now that she could feel again, it was too much. There was so much pain. She could not stop crying. Dad was in a coma. He might die. David held her, rocking her gently back and forth and making shushing noises in her ear, like she was a baby. After a while, her weeping slowed, and she slumped against him, exhausted. David laid her carefully on the couch and pulled an afghan over her.

~o*0*o~

She must have fallen asleep because the next thing Sarah knew, she was opening her eyes. She blinked and slowly took in the room around her. David lounged in her armchair, one leg thrown over the arm, scrolling through his phone. His suit coat lay across the back of the chair, and his tie hung undone from his open collar. Sarah cleared her throat, and David looked up.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little better."

"Good. You should eat something, if you can stomach it."

"Are we still going out?"

"Under the circumstances, I thought it wiser to postpone our romantic evening. I've ordered takeaway. Do you want curry or biryani?"

"Biryani sounds good."

David stood and made his way towards the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a full plate of food in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other. He set them down on the coffee table. Sarah sat up. Looking at the food, she felt her stomach clench.

"I'm not really hungry," she said.

David sat down next to her. "Sarah," he said gently, "you need to eat. We're leaving for the airport in a few hours. You really ought to have something in your stomach."

Sarah turned questioning eyes to him. "We?"

"I'm going with you."

Sarah shook her head. "David, you don't have to do that."

"Sarah," he sighed, "you are in no fit state to travel overseas on your own. I told your stepmother I would get you there safely, and I fully intend to do so."

"No, David, I – "

"Sarah, don't defy me on this."

Her eyes went wide. David's face had taken on a hardness that Sarah had never seen before. "What?"

David's face relaxed, and he took her hand in his. He continued in a softer voice, "Sarah, I cannot allow you to make this journey on your own. Not when it is within my power to accompany you and ease the burden."

"But, it's not up to you to help."

"Of course, it is. You're my girlfriend," he said simply. "Besides, who else would it be up to? You cannot travel alone."

Sarah sat up straighter and attempted to pull her hand from his. He refused to release his grasp. "Of course, I can," she snapped.

David rolled his eyes at the ceiling, as though praying for patience. "Sarah," he said, "I did not mean that I thought you were incapable of doing so, merely that it would be unwise, given your current mental state."

"And what 'mental state' would that be?" she demanded.

"Shock."

Sarah slumped, all the fight going out of her at once. She knew he was right.

"Precious," he continued, putting an arm around her and drawing her close to him, "I know you're a strong woman. Your independence is one of the things I admire most about you. But, just this once, lean on me. Let me help you. Please."

"All right," she agreed, snuggling her face into the crook of his neck. The smell of him was comforting.

He wrapped his other arm around her, so that he was holding her close in a tight hug. "I'm here for you, Sarah mine," he murmured into her hair. "I won't let you go."

~o*0*o~

After choking down as much of the biryani as she could, Sarah went to her bedroom and changed out of her dress and into jeans and a sweater. She then hastily packed her suitcase and dug out her passport. She'd been unable to reach Bryan, but had left him a voicemail explaining the family emergency and asking for a six-week sabbatical. She fervently hoped that she wouldn't need to be gone that long.

It turned out that the dutiful Trevor had not only made their flight arrangements, but also dropped off David's suitcase. While Sarah was packing, David changed out of his suit and into jeans and a gray cashmere sweater. He then called a cab to take them to the airport.

The earliest flight from Heathrow to JFK was at 8:30am. It was still fully dark when they left Sarah's flat and stepped into the waiting cab. At the airport, they checked their bags, collected their boarding passes, and slowly made their way through the double-layered security. After stopping at a café to grab pastries and cups of tea, they were finally seated at the gate, waiting for their boarding call. Sarah stared blankly out the window at the waiting plane, while David sipped his tea. Turning back to him after several minutes of silence, she noted the tension in his body and face and asked, "What's wrong?"

David glanced at her over the rim of his cup. "I hate flying," he said tersely.

"Then, why come with me?"

"Because my desire to help you is greater than my phobia," he replied. "I'll be fine."

Sarah laid a hand on his arm. "Hey," she said, leaning forward and looking him in the eye, "thank you. It really means a lot to me that you're coming with me and had Trevor make all the arrangements. And I'm sorry for getting snappish with you earlier. You were right. This isn't something I could do on my own. I'm glad you insisted on coming."

David gave her a slight smile. "You're welcome," he replied. "For you, Sarah mine, I would move the stars; getting on an airplane with you is a piece of cake."

Before Sarah could reply, a voice crackled over the loudspeaker and announced first class boarding for their flight.

"That's us," David said. He stood up and reached for his carryon.

"We're flying first class?" Sarah asked.

"Trevor said that's all that was available at such short notice."

"I've never flown first class before."

"You'll probably like it."

"How did you afford first class?"

"I had a bunch of miles saved up."

"Must have been a lot of miles."

They boarded the plane and found their seats. After the stewardess had taken their drink order – white wine for Sarah, Scotch for David – Sarah settled back in her seat. "Well," she said, "if we have to fly, this is certainly the way to do it."

"It makes flying tolerable," David replied with a tightness to his voice. "Just."

By the time the plane was pulling away from the gate, he was on his second Scotch. "I suggest sleeping, if you can," he told Sarah. "It's a long flight."

"Yeah," Sarah replied, "and then we have to drive to Upper Nyack from JFK. That takes about an hour – without traffic, which never happens. We'll be on the road a while."

"All the more reason to rest while we can," David responded. "The seats lie flat, by the way."

"Oh, shit!"

"What?"

"We need to rent a car."

"Trevor took care of it."

"He did? Oh, um…okay," she said uncertainly. "Good. Thank God for Trevor."

"Indeed."

"You better give him a really good bonus this year."

David didn't respond. He was too busy double-checking his seat belt.

The plane began to taxi down the runway, gathering speed. David shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The nose of the plane lifted, and then they were being carried aloft by the air currents. David gripped the arm rests, his knuckles white. As the plane rose through the dense cloud cover, it hit an air pocket, and the floor seemed to drop out from beneath them. Sarah heard David groan. The plane righted itself and continued to climb until it burst into bright sunlight above a floor of dazzling white clouds. Glancing over, Sarah saw that David had his eyes shut tightly. She reached over and touched him on the arm. He jumped.

"Hey," she said softly.

He opened his eyes and stiffly turned his head to meet her gaze.

"Are you okay?"

He swallowed. "Fine."

"Forget your false bravado," Sarah chided, "I know you're freaking out." She slid her hand down his arm until she was holding his. He gripped her hand tightly, their fingers interlacing. With her free hand, Sarah reached around and moved the armrest that separated their seats. She then snuggled closer to David, giving them both reassurance. After a while, the plane leveled off, and the captain announced that they were free to move about the cabin. "You can relax now," Sarah said.

"Doubtful," David responded. "I'll just keep staring at the seat belt sign, waiting for it to come back on."

"Distract yourself and put a movie on," Sarah suggested, taking a look at the inflight entertainment options. "Ooh, they have Star Wars: Episode VII."

"I didn't know you were a fan."

"Oh, yeah. From way back. Toby and I used to have lightsaber duels in the backyard."

"Who's Toby?"

"My brother."

"You never mentioned that you have a brother."

"Well, he's technically my half-brother – Karen's his Mom – but he's the only sibling I have."

"How old is he?"

"Fourteen."

"That's quite an age difference."

"Yeah, I guess. Fourteen years. Dad got remarried when I was twelve." At the mention of her father, a look of anxiety crossed Sarah's face. "I hope he's all right."

David squeezed her hand. "As do I."

Sarah put on her movie and cuddled as close to David as she could, while he put his arm around her and held her close. Even with her enthusiasm for Star Wars, she was so worn out with the stress, coupled with a mostly sleepless night, that she nodded off on David's shoulder before Rey had even left Jakku. David had to wake her up several hours later when the stewardess came to take their lunch order.

~o*0*o~

The remainder of their flight was uneventful, although the approach and landing had David once more on the brink of a panic attack. Sarah insisted on accompanying him through Customs, even though, as an American citizen, she could have sailed right through.

The Customs agent raised an eyebrow at Sarah's American passport. "You should be in the other line," he told her.

"We're traveling together," Sarah responded, gesturing at David.

"Is this visit for business or pleasure?" the agent asked David.

"Neither."

"We're visiting family," Sarah interjected.

"My girlfriend's father is ill," David told the agent, "so, while this trip is not business-related, it is in no way pleasurable."

"I see." He scanned and stamped both passports before handing them back. "Welcome to the United States, Mr. Jones-King. You are admitted for 90 days. Ms. Williams, welcome home."

They made their way to the baggage claim and retrieved their luggage without incident. As David had said, Trevor had, indeed, reserved a rental car for them in Sarah's name. She suspected this was because David had no experience driving on the left-hand side of the road. David put the hospital's address in the GPS, and they were on their way. Before long, they were pulling onto the highway, leaving the airport behind them. Traffic was heavy, but was far from the worst Sarah had experienced in New York City.

As they crossed the Whitestone Bridge, Sarah gestured to her left and said, "Mr. Jones-King, welcome to the New World."

It was a clear day, and the famous Manhattan skyline was spread out for them to see. David couldn't keep from gawping. "That's New York City?" he asked incredulously.

"Part of it," Sarah replied with a touch of pride, "that's Manhattan."

"The pictures don't do it justice," he said. "And you used to live there?"

"Yep."

"Where, exactly?"

Sarah stole a glance out her window, as she navigated the bridge traffic. "You see that really tall, skinny building?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Well, that's 432 Park Avenue. I lived somewhere to the right of it, on the Upper East Side."

"And I assume you also worked in the city?"

"Yeah. Look to the left, all the way down. See that big, kind of glittery building with the really tall antenna on top?"

"Yes."

"That's the new World Trade Center building that went up after 9/11. I used to work in a building just a few blocks from there."

"Fascinating."

Upon exiting the bridge, traffic thickened, and Sarah found she had to focus all of her attention on driving. Not needing a car in London, she was out practice, having only driven short distances when visiting home at Christmas.

Finally, they crossed the Tappan Zee Bridge across the Hudson River and exited the highway onto the more familiar surface streets of Sarah's childhood. Before long, they were pulling into the hospital parking lot.

As they got out of the car, Sarah swallowed. "Well, we're here," she said.

David gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

They made their way into the hospital, stopping at the information desk for visitor badges and directions. When they emerged from the elevator on the fourth floor, Sarah stopped to compose herself.

"David, I don't think I can do this."

"Yes, you can, Sarah," he replied. He took her in his arms and kissed her gently. "I'm right here with you."

Sarah nodded and pushed open the door to the ICU.

As they entered the private hospital room, they were greeted by the beeps, clicks, and whirs of the machines that were, for the moment, keeping Robert Williams alive. Sarah's eye fell on the bed, where her father lay, almost obscured by the myriad of wires and tubes that sprouted from his body like some invasive parasite. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she tried unsuccessfully to choke down a sob. David put his arm around her, although he, too, looked visibly shaken.

The noise woke Karen, who had been dozing in the recliner next to the bed. The older woman blinked awake and stared at them for a moment.

"Sarah?" She got up clumsily and hurried around the bed to enfold her stepdaughter in a tight embrace. "Thank God you're here." Releasing Sarah, she turned to David. "You must be David."

David gave a tightlipped smile and held out a hand. "Yes," he said. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Williams. I wish it were under better circumstances."

Karen waved away his hand and gave him a hug. Sarah thought that the surprised look on his face would have been comical in any other setting.

"Call me Karen," she told him. "Thank you so much for bringing Sarah home. I'm so glad she didn't have to come all that way alone."

"It was the least I could do, Karen," he responded.

Karen turned once again to Sarah and gave her another hug, then began to fill her in on what the doctors had told her about Robert's condition.

While the women talked, David's eyes strayed to the broken figure lying supine on the bed. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Sarah noted that he looked paler than usual. It could have been just residual anxiety from the plane ride, but the longer he stared at Robert, the paler he grew. He shifted his feet restlessly.

"Oh, here, dear," Karen said. She lifted a padded folding chair down from a hook on the wall and held it out to David. "No need to stand. Have a seat."

Startled, David's head snapped around to face her. "What?" He twitchily glanced down at the proffered chair. "No. Thank you. I, uh…I'll just go and, um…fetch us all some tea, shall I?" he said hastily, retreating from the room as fast as he could before Sarah could stop him.

"Is he always that jumpy?" Karen asked.

"Not usually, no," Sarah replied. She took the chair from Karen's grasp and sat down on it herself, pulling it as close to the bed as she could. She picked up her father's hand and held it, gently stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. As she stared at the lifeless body that lay before her, her mind retreated from the reality around her and sought relief in analyzing David's actions. What had happened to get him so rattled? He was usually so controlled in his manner.

Her musings on David's strange behavior were cut short by the arrival of a nurse who proceeded to replace an IV bag on the stand next to the bed and systematically take Robert's vitals. She then entered the data into the computer on the rolling cart she had brought with her before taking her leave, closing the door softly behind her.

When the nurse had left, Sarah glanced at her watch. David had been gone for half an hour. "I wonder what's happened to David?" she mused aloud. "It shouldn't take this long to get tea."

Assuring Karen that she would be right back, Sarah exited the ICU and found David seated in the waiting room, a cardboard tray of disposable cups with lids sitting on the low table in front of him. He stood quickly when he saw her approaching. "I didn't think they'd let me bring the drinks in," he explained.

"You probably could've, but that's okay," Sarah replied. She sat down in the chair next to his and gratefully took the cup he offered her, sipping the warm liquid tentatively.

"I didn't know how your stepmother takes her tea," he continued in an apologetic tone.

"She doesn't," Sarah replied, leaning back in her chair and covering her eyes with her free hand. "She drinks coffee. Which I would have told you if you hadn't rushed off so fast." She cast a sidelong glance at David, who was nervously bouncing his right leg up and down. "Are you okay?" she asked him.

David jumped. "What?" His head snapped around to face her.

"I asked if you were okay," Sarah repeated.

"Yes. Fine," David said, too quickly, looking away again. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine." She had never seen him this keyed up, even on the plane. What was wrong?

David bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut, as though in pain. Sarah noticed that he had his hands pressed together and was squeezing them firmly between his knees. "It's nothing," he said.

"David." She leaned forward and laid her hand on his arm, concern written on her face. "What's wrong? Please tell me."

He opened his eyes and turned to look at her. "Don't worry about me," he said tightly, giving her a forced smile. "I'll be fine."

"David, what – "

"Really, Sarah," he said, putting his hand over hers. "I'll tell you all about it later. Right now, we should be focusing on you and your family, not me."

Sarah frowned and studied his face. His eyes were slightly dilated, and his breathing seemed to be more rapid than usual. She felt a tremor running through the hand that laid over hers. "If you're sure…"

"Positive."

"Well, all right, then."

He forced another smile. "Drink your tea, love. It's getting cold."

Sarah nodded absently and drained her cup. She stood and, tossing the empty cup into a nearby trashcan, said, "I'm going back in. I'll send Karen out; she needs a break." Turning to look at him, she asked, "Are you sure you're all right?"

David forced a smile. "Yes, love. I'll be fine. Go be with your father."

Sarah nodded. She stepped forward to brush his hair back from his brow and give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. David closed his eyes and gave an unconscious sigh as he savored her touch. Then, Sarah turned and left the waiting room.

Once she was out of sight, David slumped in his chair and covered his eyes with one hand. Why did this have to be happening now? Just when Sarah needed him most, he was falling apart. To be fair, he told himself, he hadn't been inside a hospital since…then, so there was no way he could have known how being here would affect him. If he could just keep it together for a little while longer, just a little longer. He could do that, he assured himself. For Sarah's sake, he could do anything.

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. Just a little longer.

A/N

Well, here it is at long last. My sincerest apologies for the delay. It's been a crazy few weeks.

We're short-staffed at my office and prepping a big case for trial (I'm a paralegal), so the last thing I want to do at lunch or in the evenings is sit down at a computer and type some more.

My family also had a health scare with my Dad two weeks ago. We thought he had a stroke, but, fortunately, it turned out to be a case of transient global amnesia, aka, unexplained short-term memory loss – no known cause, no lasting effects. He's back to normal; the only vestige of the ordeal being a gap of several hours in his memory – not to mention near heart attacks for the rest of us. Very weird. The irony of having my father in the hospital with amnesia while writing a story in which one main character's father is in the hospital and the other main character suffers from amnesia is not lost on me. God has a sense of humor.

And then my baby sister and her family came for a visit this past weekend. Far too distracted by the adorable 8-month-old niece to sit down and write anything. 😊

So, did anyone catch the incredibly subtle Star Wars reference? I'm not talking about Sarah watching the movie on the plane – that was obvious. I put in a much smaller Easter egg. Can you find it?

I heard in a documentary that David Bowie hated to fly. We have that in common. It was both very easy and very hard for me to write about David's reaction to being on a plane. I wrote from my own experience. I was actually getting sweaty palms writing that part. I've discovered what works best to calm me down on planes is a combination of Prozac, alcohol, and David Bowie music. Lol