Summary: Sally and Jack ponder the meaning of the word "forever." In an attempt to redeem themselves as the best tricksters in the town of Halloween, Lock, Shock, and Barrel unearth an ancient evil. Finklestein might know something about it, but he is preoccupied with his disobedient creation Lucretia. When Jack is dethroned and Sally loses heart, who will save Halloween Town from the horrific imbalance between life and death? Rated T for graphic elements of horror.

Author's Note & Disclaimers: Sorry, folks. I can't claim either Tim Burton or Danny Elfman's identity, and therefore I don't own The Nightmare before Christmas, Jack, Sally, or even Halloween Town. However, I do own this plot and the character of Lucretia (although she was built upon Finklestein's new creation at the end of the film). No stealing, or else I pull my stories and no more lovely Eddy fanfiction.

Rating: T Why?: Rather dark fic, with elements of horror and some grotesque descriptions, but no bloody gore for the sake of bloody gore.

An Eternity
Prologue

My dearest friend, if you don't mind
I'd like to join you by your side
Where we can gaze into the stars
And sit together, now and forever
For it is plain as anyone can see
We're simply meant to be

Sally smiled absentmindedly as she recalled Jack's kind words. She then remembered that her arm was about to fall off and resumed stitching it back into place. As expected, her needle came unthreaded, and she sighed. That was the fifth time that had happened. The needle fell to the floor with a clatter that attracted Jack's attention. He looked up from the paper to find his Sally, her arm twisted in a peculiar fashion as she tried to retrieve her needle.

Jack merely smiled and picked up the needle for her, rethreading it easily as he started to sew.

Now and forever...

"Jack, how long is forever?"

Jack frowned, not because he disapproved of Sally's question, but because he found himself searching very hard for the answer. "Forever is... longer than anyone cares to say. Why say 10,000 years when you can use a word like forever?"

"But isn't it more than 10,000 years?"

"Well, an eternity, more like."

As Jack desperately sought a reply, he discovered something that could perhaps buy him a little time. "Sally, dear, you've run out of string. Better fetch some more."

Sally rose and Jack resumed hiding his face behind his paper, ashamed that he could not immediately answer her question.

After futilely searching the hall closet (all she found were some decaying fingernails and a nest of bats), Sally knew where the string must be. Pity; it was a place she dreaded to go.

The basement.

She could not fully explain why the basement troubled her so. Perhaps it was because it was dark and foreboding, but then, what part of Halloween Town wasn't? Or maybe it was that basements were stereotyped as hiding loathsome objects like rotting dead bodies and disease-ridden rodents. But none of these things bothered Sally. After all, she was dead herself.

What, then, was it?

To take her mind off the rickety descending stairs, she began to ponder what Jack had told her. If "forever" and "an eternity" were the same thing, why were they separate words? And why was there only "an" eternity? Couldn't there be more than one?

As Sally hastily picked a lump of string from the shelf at the bottom of the stairs, she decided that there could not be more than one eternity, simply because the word "eternities" sounded absolutely ridiculous.

However, this still did not answer her question as to how long one was.

Apparently, Jack did not seem to know either. This brought about a new flood of questions. If he didn't know what it meant, was he even qualified to use the word? What if this "forever" that he spoke of fluctuated as some minutes do, some appearing to last shorter than others, and it would all be over in the blink of an eye? Would he forget her, then, just because their eternity had expired?

She paused at the top of the stairs to look over her shoulder. Nothing had followed her up from the basement, and there was nothing out of the ordinary down there.

At least, nothing that her eyes could see.

Content that she had escaped whatever it was she feared in the basement, and in addition had come away with what she needed, Sally turned her attention to the next problem: Jack. He was still where she had left him, appearing absorbed in and intrigued by whatever he was reading about in the newspaper. Sally felt no remorse at interrupting him; perhaps she could see that he was pretending.

"Jack, I mean for you to know that I intend to stay here for more than an eternity. I mean, I understand that it must be a very long time, seeing as there's only room for one in the whole continuum of things, but I do hope you won't forget me when it's over."

Jack looked up at her in disbelief. So that's why she wanted to know. Wordlessly he stood and embraced her, not minding that her arm dangled helplessly on a mere thread. "Oh Sally, but forever's never over!"

Her eyes widened. "An eternity… doesn't have an end?"

"That's right."

"Does it have a beginning?"

Jack sighed. Her questions never ceased. But he supposed this why he loved her: she always kept him pondering. Even things that he formerly accepted as facts were to be doubted in a discussion with Sally. Her innocence brought into light the common sense that was so often overlooked.

Suddenly, her face brightened as she answered her own question. "Oh! I understand now! An eternity is… a circle."

Jack laughed, threaded the needle, and once again began mending Sally's undone seam. Her way of explaining things always made it seem so simple.

"Yes, something like that."