I'm drenched and aching, lying on a hard surface with my head down and eyes shut.

For a little while I just lie there, no curiosity about where I am, just glad to be out the storm. Drops of water run down my face and begin to pool on the floor - soon I'll be lying in a puddle. I slowly wait for my heart rate to return to normal, listening to the steady dripping and my own breathing.

It takes me a few moments to notice I can hear another person breathing as well.

I open my eyes slightly and see the bare, white surface a few centimeters from my nose. So, it's this dream again. And that solves the mystery of whose breathing I can hear.

I slowly shift my arms and push myself up into a sitting position, feeling the ache of my abused muscles. How is it that, even though I'm no longer in bird form, my arms feel like they're going to fall off?

I glance up at the other figure in the room, to see if he's paying any attention to my discomfort. His face is impassive, though – like last time – he's looking ready to say something. I shift around again, propping myself against the wall to make it slightly easier on my body: I might as well be comfortable for what I'm sure is going to be an unpleasant conversation.

I had planned to take the initiative and start the conversation myself but, upon seeing that I'm ready to begin, Jareth decides to preempt me. And he's not shy about jumping straight to the point.

"You'll have to tell him eventually, you know."

I'm confused immediately; "Tell who what?"

Just like Jareth would in the waking world, he rolls his eyes; "You have to tell the Goblin King about your dreams. It won't help you, trying to hide them."

"I doubt it'll harm me either." I shrug.

In a moment he's right in front of my face, his breath brushing my forehead. I recoil, hitting my head on the wall again. I hadn't even had time to blink.

"On the contrary, your dreams could well be vital." He hisses at me, baring his predator-like teeth centimetres from my nose. "There may be far more meaning to them than you realize."

"Such as?" I retort, trying to regain some composure despite my throbbing head.

He draws back, straightening up to stare down at me; "That, I cannot tell you."

"Why not?" I exclaim, annoyed. "You clearly know something. Otherwise you wouldn't be telling me this!"

"I know as much as you do; I'm just being more practical. You can't deny that these dreams started changing the same time that you noticed your change to fae."

I frown, he's got me there. I'm still determined not to back down, however.

"That may be true, but it doesn't mean I have to tell him – and aren't you him anyway?"

His smile is feral, all sharp teeth and no real mirth. It's seems too wild, even for Jareth at his most unpredictable. The tutting sound he makes before answering me, on the other hand, is as Jareth-like as I've ever heard.

"I am no more him than your dream-friends are the real ones, we are dreams and therefore not real. I may look and act to a certain extent like the Goblin King, but we are far from the same."

"You seem pretty similar to me." I mutter, trying to maintain some sort of confidence, though I'm now slightly wary of this dream-creature. At least I have a better idea of where I stand with the real Jareth; this being is entirely new.

Fortunately he does not seem bothered by my denial – it's as if he expected it.

"Protest all you want, but it'll only delay things. Don't you want to return to your family quickly?"

I open my mouth but close it almost immediately, my teeth clicking painfully together. It's true, less than a day away and I already miss them. Not the distance – I've been hundreds of miles away for months at a time before – but the fact that I simply can't go back. At least before there was always the option, now I can't risk putting them in danger.

If these dreams are linked to my magic and they get me back sooner, then I'll damn well spill every detail to His High-and-mighty-ness – sod embarrassment and blackmail material. And that's going to be some gold-dust blackmail.

I can feel my shoulders sagging under the realization of what I have to do – what I have to reveal about myself. Dream-Jareth, meanwhile, is looking satisfied with himself; he's won and it's more than the small joy an argument won. He seems happy to see me defeated.

This spurs my anger yet again.

"I don't suppose you're going to be of any help, are you?" I snap, feeling my rage grow as he looks unperturbed and unconcerned.

"I don't see how I could be of any help," he shrugs nonchalantly; "I can merely suggest logic, not give you ideas."

"So what exactly are you for, besides pissing me off?" My voice has risen a few decibels and I can feel my mood simmering, looking for a release.

His smile just widens, eyes keen with something that – even through my temper – looks suspiciously like anticipation.

"I'm not 'for' anything, my dear. I'm just simply here to make you see."

"See what?!" I'm approaching the pitch of a deranged budgie now and I can feel something building in me that isn't emotion. It feels like hot water filling my lungs, making it harder for me to breath and adding to the need for release.

"What you refuse to."

I let out shriek and launch myself off the floor at him.

I only meant to push him off balance, maybe so he'll hit his head on the wall for once, but as soon as my hands brush his shirt I feel something travel between us like an electric current. It's like the sensation from the last time I was in this dream, only magnified tenfold. I'm thrown backwards with double the force and my whole body slams into the wall, shaking my bones and making my ears ring.

For the second I'm suspended there I can still see the dream-Jareth, through watery and half-blind eyes. He was also knocked back slightly by something but certainly not enough to do any damage. On the contrary, he's looking energized, his hair standing upright and cracking as if with static. When he looks at me it's not with the Goblin King's mismatched eyes anymore: they are pure blue with no visible whites or pupils.

As I fall to the floor again I hear him approach me. I flinch slightly as he touches me but it does not have the same effect as me touching him. He lifts me up by the shoulders and leans me against the wall, tilting my chin up to look into the icy pits that are now his eyes.

"You can't keep me shut up forever," he croaks, in a voice that is no longer the melodic purr of the real Jareth, it almost crackles like his hair and makes me shiver at its eeriness; "sooner or later I must be released. And I cannot control if you will survive it when I do."

"How do I survive, then?" I whisper, feeling the words grate over my lips.

He stares at me for a moment before replying – with almost a touch of sadness, "I don't know."

He releases me and steps back. It feels as though he's letting me fall.

What remains of my vision clouds over, the world slowly dimming to nothing.

And I can hear, faintly, the sound of the other – real – Jareth calling my name.

I know, I know. I promised I'd carry on with the story once my exams were finished, when I had more time blah, blah, blah. Well, yeah, I kind of failed on that front. My exams finished in June and I've had plenty of free time since then, yet I still haven't updated this story. I suck, I know.

You guys, on the other hand, are awesome. You've kept on viewing and reviewing and reminding me to come back - and I really did want to remember. I really hope you can forgive me and carry on reading, as I am sticking to my promise and I will finish this story. I'll do it for you guys. At least it may me some excuse that just about everything else also ground to a halt while I was away. My WIP needs a jump start and plenty of other things went out the window. I need to kickstart myself again.

Meanwhile, life hasn't been too bad. My exams overall went well and I got into my first choice uni, which I'm really enjoying (though I'm slowly being corrupted by the student drinking lifestyle). Overall, life isn't bad.

I hope you guys like this chapter, though the writing may be a little rusty after the break.

It's good to be back.

PT66