Hello, readers! The last chapter is finally here! I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the support!

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Labyrinth'

A New Year

Lonely no more.

Jareth tightened his grip on Sarah as he deepened the kiss and she moaned in a brief moment of pain against his lips. He loosened his grip and brought his hands to her front, caressing her lovely curves as he went. His fingers grazed the buttons on her jacket, and he quickly undid them, shoving the unwanted clothing off her shoulders and onto the floor.

"Jareth," she muttered against his lips as he clasped his arms once more around her waist.

He took advantage of her open mouth and darted his tongue in, tasting her and relishing it. He pulled up the hem of her tank-top and traced small circles with his thumbs against the smooth skin of the small of her back.

"Jareth, please," she muttered again, pulling back slightly.

He tightened his grip, digging his fingers into her skin and pushing their bodies together. Her hands wrapped around his shirt and began to push against him, creating a small space between them. The man growled in frustration and pulled her closer.

"Jareth, stop," she pleaded against his lips.

Stop? How could he stop? She felt so wonderful. She tasted so wonderful. She was his, and she always would be. He wouldn't be lonely anymore. How could he stop?

"Stop. Jareth," panic began to creep into her voice.

What was she scared for? They were together, and he wouldn't leave her. She wouldn't be lonely. He moved his lips to her neck, pressing firmly against the soft flesh.

"Stop. Please, stop!"

Jareth pulled back to see the fear in her eyes. That's all those beautiful emerald orbs held: fear. Complete, unadulterated fear. His eyes gazed over the bright red marks that were beginning to blossom like red roses against her pale skin, her lips slowly starting to swell. He withdrew his hands from her skin and stepped back to examine them. Blood collected underneath his nails, staining them.

"Oh God," he muttered. The shaken man dared to lift his eyes to those of his precious who looked back at him with fear: a fear directed at him. "Sarah," he implored her, voice husky, reaching a hand out to her, but she recoiled from his touch.

His heart broke. All the pain he had felt in the past week at the fear of a rejection. All the pain he had felt when she had uttered those cursed words. All that pain was nothing. A single rain drop when combine compared to the torrent of pain, sadness and bitter heartache that crashed over him.

She feared him.

And she had a damn good reason to.

He had hurt her.

His precious Sarah, who desired an end to the loneliness they shared when separate.

He had hurt her with his bare hands.

The terrified woman wrapped her arms around herself and began to slowly back away from him, her eyes wide.

"Sarah, God, Sarah, I'm so sorry," he implored her. Not wanting to see the fear any more. He was supposed to be the one to remove that fear, not place it there.

"I," she licked her lips nervously, "I think you should go."

"Sarah," he took a step towards her, but she scuttled away from his form.

"Just go," she choked out.

He couldn't do anything but obey, and so he left her alone in her apartment and returned to his chambers. As mocking silence and loneliness closed in around him, he threw his fists against the stone wall, oblivious to the torn skin and blood that trickled down his wrists, and let out a heart wrenching cry.

He had ruined it.

He had been so damned worried about protecting his heart that he ignored hers.

The once proud and composed Goblin King crumpled to the floor and was reduced to fits of burning tears.

As the tears began to ebb, and his shoulders seized their racking, Jareth took a shuddering breath in attempt to calm himself.

Ruined.

It was all ruined.

The morose man sat up and leaned against the wall needing the unfailing support. He leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands.

What have I done?

I've damned myself to loneliness, that's what I've done.

And Sarah.

Oh Sarah, what did I do to you?

The fallen king lifted his head and brought a hand in front of his face. He wanted to see Sarah, make sure that she was alright, but he couldn't bring himself to conjure the crystal. She had asked for her to leave her. He had hurt her. He had no right to try and involve himself in her life anymore.

But he had hurt her. He had to make sure she was safe. He had to make sure she was comfortable, that she would be able to move on without him. He wouldn't be able to do anything for her, but he could at least look. He could watch her; keep an eye out.

It would be the ultimate torture: to watch. Never being able to talk, to be with her, to hold her in his arms again. He couldn't bring himself to do that.

But he deserved it. He deserved that damnation. And she deserved someone to look after her. He had failed her, but he would make amends. It might be from the shadows, but he would make amends.

With a reserved flick of the wrist, a clear crystal balanced on the tips of his fingers. Taking a shuttering breath, he conjured Sarah within its depths. Her small form lay strewn across her bed. The sheets tangled around her legs, and all but one of the pillows were discarded on the floor. Her chestnut hair spilled over the white sheets, and her brows scrunched together. A light flush painted her cheeks, and her lips muttered unheard words. The only pillow on the bed was clutched tightly to her chest.

His heart cracked even further. He couldn't sit here watching her when she was troubled. Without a thought on his appearance, he brought himself to her bedside. He knelt down and looked into her face.

She sighed and clutched the pillow closer to her. "Please don't," she muttered through swollen lips.

Jareth bit his lip to stop the cry of agony that was building up in his chest. What have I done to you?

Sarah moaned quietly in her sleep and buried her face into the pillow. Her hair fell away from her neck and exposed the red marks that stained her skin.

Unable to control the urge to comfort that was rising in him, he reached out an ungloved and bloodied hand. He smoothed back the damp hair from her face.

The scarred woman before him sighed and leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering open. The moment her green eyes fell on him, he pulled his hand back and stood up. He turned his back to her. He wouldn't make her scared. That wasn't what he came here to do.

"Jareth?" she whispered behind him.

He clenched his eyes shut to prevent the tears that he felt damming up from leaking. "I'm sorry," he choked out. "I just came to see if you were alright, pre—Sarah. I'll leave you now. You don't have to worry about me again."

He felt a small hand close around the sleeve of the winter coat he still had on. "Jareth," came a slightly stronger voice.

"No," he said firmly. "I'm going. I deserve the loneliness, but—but you don't. Please be happy," he pleaded in a hushed voice.

He felt her hand slid down his arm and grasp ahold of his hand. His heart fluttered as her slender hand slipped into his brushing their skin together. He heard her stand and her warmth poured into his body as she stepped up to his elbow. Before he could enjoy it, he steeled himself and tried to pull his hand from her grasp.

Sarah tightened her grasp and lifted his hand. She let out a small gasp and Jareth turned his watery eyes to look down at her eyes, glistening with tears as well. She lifted her other hand and gently ran her fingers over his bloodied knuckles. A small tear fell from her eyes as she whispered huskily, "Christ, Jareth. What did you do to yourself?"

He pulled his hand from her grasp and stuck it in his coat pocket. "Nothing of consequence," he muttered looking away from her.

"Nothing. Nothing of consequence?" she bit out. "Jareth you're bleeding! How's that-?"

"Compared to what I did to you it is nothing of consequence," he said turning to her, hot tears finally leaking through.

"Jareth—"

"Sarah, please," he began cutting her off.

"Don't," she whispered.

"Don't what?" he choked out passed the lump in his throat.

"Don't call me Sarah."

"Then what, I pray, am I supposed to call you?" he asked, frustration building up in him.

Her green eyes shifted away from him and silence was her response.

How can she expect me to call her something else if she doesn't tell me—oh. Precious. "Precious," he whispered.

Those beautiful, tear filled eyes turned back to him. "Yes?" she asked.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, hot tears burned his eyes. "I'm sorry for being a damned fool and not thinking of your heart as well. But you don't have to worry about that anymore—"

"Shh," she whispered gently, reaching out a hand wiping away the tears tracing wet paths on his cheeks. "I forgive you."

Jareth reached up and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her hand away from his face and wrapped it in his lithe fingers. "I won't allow you to. I don't deserve it."

"We all deserve forgiveness, Jareth," she pleaded.

"I don't, not for what I did. How can I accept yours when I can't even forgive myself?"

"Stop running away," Sarah admonished, eyes blazing. "If you always run, if you never forgive yourself, you're going to stay lonely. And so am I."

"You'll find someone—"

"No. I don't want someone. I want you. You're not perfect, and neither am I. But we are perfect together."

"Precious—"

"No more running," she whispered firmly. "No more loneliness. No more separation. We work things out together." She raised her free hand and placed it on his cheek, rubbing her thumb in small circles. "You hear that? Together. A couple."

Jareth gave her a small smile and kissed her softly on the forehead. What had he done to get someone so wonderful as her? He must have done something good, something right at some point in his life. "Together," he whispered against her skin.

"You missed."

He pulled back and looked down at her face, brows pulled together in confusion. "Missed, precious?"

She smiled and pointed to her lips.

Jareth shook his head. "No," he said fiercely. "I hurt you."

"You did, but you won't again. I trust you," she said firmly.

He smiled sadly and traced her lips gently. "They're still swollen."

"Damn the fact that they're swollen and just kiss me already," she said fiercely.

Jareth stood stunned, taken aback by her ferocity.

Sarah huffed, grabbed his shirt and pulled his lips to hers. Jareth responded gently, wrapping his arms around her small form.

She pulled back slightly and murmured against his lips, "Get rid of this damn jacket and kiss me."

Jareth chuckled as he withdrew his arms quickly and pulled off his coat. In record time, his arms were back around her waist. He smiled and kissed her ears, her eyelids, her cheeks, the corners of her mouth.

She groaned. "Stop teasing me and just kiss me, damn it."

He smirked and pressed his lips against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers snuck into his hair, pulling herself closer to him with unexpected ferocity. Jareth stumbled back, and the bed hit the back of his legs. His knees buckled and he fell backwards, dragging Sarah down with him.

She let out a squeal as she landed on him, she pulled back and looked at him with worried eyes. Jareth chuckled in response and pulled her lips back to his.

When they finally paused for breath, the chestnut haired woman nestled her head under his chin, and he tightened his embrace.

"Precious," he murmured fondly against her hair.

She smiled against his chest. "Don't every stop calling me that. And don't ever leave me."

"I'll be by your side," he promised, "until the world falls down, precious."

I couldn't give them a happy ending without some struggle! Please leave a contribution (review) in the little box! And if you enjoyed this story, please check out my others. Thanks again!

~Alexandria Keating