Sarah Williams woke with her mouth full of the taste of peaches. She was lying on something far too hard to be her pillow and yet too soft to be the floor. And it moved rhythmically up and down as though breathing. Even through the clouds of sleep, alarms began ringing in her mind. She went from fully asleep to sitting up in a matter of seconds. A few more seconds had her out of bed entirely.

"Jareth," she hissed angrily.

"Morning, precious," drawled the unaffected Goblin King, still lounging in her bed. Sarah looked at him helplessly. She would not ask him why he was there and give him the satisfaction of making some witty remark. She knew him too well. Besides, she already knew the answer he would give. Seeing him every day for two years had allowed her to have a fairly good understanding of him, Sarah thought. But, somehow, she knew she'd never stop being surprised by him.

"I am here to see you, of course," Jareth answered her unasked question anyway. Normally Sarah would have immediately retorted with 'but why were you in my bed?' but she felt too tired today to deal with him and she really didn't want to know what his answer was. Jareth seemed to push her boundaries every day as though seeing how far she could bend before breaking. With a sigh, Sarah sat at her vanity and began brushing her hair to prepare for the day ahead, one that would likely get no better from here.

"Don't you have a kingdom to run?" Sarah asked at last. She could see Jareth smirk in the reflection of her mirror and she, not for the first—and certainly not the last—time wanted to slap the look off his face. Instead, she looked away.

"I am on an errand for my kingdom," he replied smugly. No matter how much Sarah tried to not give him satisfaction in his lines, it seemed he could not be stopped.

"And that would be…?" Of course her words were unthinking, but speaking rashly around Jareth seemed to be inevitable for her.

"To check on the future Queen of Goblins, of course." At this answer Sarah stilled her hands and sighed again. The brush was maneuvered away from her and gently run through her hair. She hadn't heard him get up.

"I will not become Queen of Goblins," she told him, but it lacked energy. He had made some allusion to it every day these past two years and she'd rejected him each time. In the beginning she had rejected him with energy and assertiveness, always reminding him that he had no power over her. Now—two years later—tiredly repeating the same overused line, she understood that he did have power over her, and he was using it to his advantage. He was wearing her down. As soon as Sarah thought this, she began to worry. How close was she to just saying yes if only to stop his persistence? He had been in her bed this morning and was now brushing her hair without a word of protest from her. She didn't love him or even like him; she was just used to him. That was dangerous.

She had to get away from him, but—as with most things having to do with Jareth—that was easier said than done. Sarah sorted through the possibilities, rather unsatisfied with what she could come up with. At seventeen her options were limited and even if she had been older, Sarah hardly had the funds to support herself anyway. It wasn't that she hadn't been looking for a job, she most certainly had at the insistence of her stepmother—who remained as much of a harpy as ever—but no one would hire her. After several failed interviews, Sarah had pretty much given up and accepted that she wasn't going to find a job for the same reason she could never seem to find lasting friendships ever since her adventures in the Labyrinth: there was something wrong with her. Or maybe, Sarah reminded herself as she leveled a glance at the smirking reflection of the Goblin King in the mirror, it wasn't something wrong with her, just her company. Jareth caught her eye in the mirror and only looked increasingly smug about it.

"Are you ready to come home, my Queen?" Jareth whispered in her ear. With a huff, Sarah pulled away from his hands and stood from her vanity, shooting him a glare as she did so. Sarah wished she was only angry and that a fleeting quirk of amusement hadn't crossed her lips, but it had. And Jareth had clearly seen it. At least it seemed to satisfy him for the day and he put up no fuss as she grabbed her school bag and trudged down the stairs, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'glittery git' when he disappeared. It would have been more effective if that odd quirk of a smile hadn't mysteriously surfaced again. Jareth was an acquired taste, it seemed, and a very dangerous one at that.

When Sarah arrived home from school, Karen was in the kitchen. Stifling a groan at her misfortune and cursing herself for stopping to window shop in antique shops along the way, Sarah carefully tried to creep passed the door and around the room to the safety of her bedroom. Try as she might, Sarah could not slip past unnoticed.

"Watch your feet," Karen called out as she spotted Sarah. "I just scrubbed the floors." Sarah nodded and—with reluctance—stopped to remove her shoes. The day had been nothing but sunshine and, looking behind her, Sarah could see not a single spot on the floors. She wanted to stomp and whine about that fact, but much had changed these past two years. It wasn't that she felt more mature, not really. Just that as soon as she thought something was unfair, her heart would seize in her chest and she'd find that whatever complaint she wanted to level would die unspoken on her tongue. This had also taught her how much easier it was to comply than to fight, especially as the years made it clear that her father would always take Karen's side. Stepping out of her shoes and holding them up to prove that she was no longer tracking non-existent mud into the house, Sarah made a vague gesture towards her room. Escape, however, was not that easy.

"Sarah, wait a moment. I wanted to talk to you," her stepmother stopped her. Sarah felt as though nothing good could come of this situation. She waited, but Karen gestured for her to sit down at the table before she continued. With a small sigh, Sarah complied, even if her face clearly said she would have loved to do otherwise. "Your father and I were talking and we wanted to ask you about something." Gingerly, Karen sat down across from Sarah. "We know the last couple of years have been difficult for you and we think that maybe a change of pace might be for the best. Maybe it would be better if you spent the rest of the year…." Karen paused, but Sarah knew exactly what was coming next. So that was her game, huh? She decided it was finally time to kick Sarah out of the house? She couldn't even wait until Sarah's eighteenth birthday.

"Somewhere else?" Sarah suggested with a slight note of sarcasm in her tone. She'd gotten better at controlling her frustration at the injustices of life, but it didn't make this much better.

"Somewhere less busy," corrected Karen, still trying to keep up appearances, it seemed. There wasn't much use arguing anyway, especially if her dad had already given the okay. Was it still hurtful that he couldn't even say the words to Sarah himself? Yes, but Sarah wouldn't say as much. At least not now, not until she could bear everything no longer. Besides, there wasn't much keeping her here. The only stable relationship she'd been able to keep was with an insufferable, but powerful fae who was likely able to follow her wherever she went anyway as long as he knew where to go. It was that thought that pulled Sarah out of her angry thoughts and brought a flash of inspiration. As long as he knew where to go… what if he didn't? SHe'd been looking for a way to escape and here it was being handed to her on a silver platter. All she had to do was say yes.

"Your Uncle Charlie lives out in Washington. A small town called… Spoons or Knives or something silly like that," Karen was continuing, chuckling a little bit as she did so. "We suggested the idea to him and he said he'd be delighted to have the company. So if you wanted, we'd be happy to buy your ticket…" Karen trailed off again, but this time she was actually waiting for a response from Sarah. For her part, Sarah found herself much less upset that her family was so willing to ship her off.

"Yes!" she cried with enough enthusiasm to obviously startle her stepmother. It had been a while since she'd shown that much passion to anyone; at least anyone human, that is. But even around Jareth lately she'd been lackluster. There was a slightly complicated look on the woman's face as though she was trying to decide just how exactly to feel about such a powerful response, but eventually she settled on relief and happiness. 'To be rid of me,' Sarah thought to herself, but returned the woman's smile with a genuine one of her own. If nothing else, that was one problem solved, and she always did like her Uncle Charlie.

Deceiving Jareth was easier than she would have thought. He had only really appeared in the mornings and it didn't seem as though he kept tabs on her for the rest of the day. Refusing his daily proposal was easier as she could count the days left until she would be on the other side of the country and away from him. Even on the very last morning he had not noticed anything different about her. She always felt a little sad as they continued their daily banter. It wasn't that she was going to miss him or their conversations, but more that she regretted that tomorrow he would come to find himself with nothing but an empty room. It was only that night that she allowed herself to think how he might feel the next morning when he found she'd gotten the better of him at last. Sarah wanted to be elated at the thought and gloat in her mind about it and, a year or so previously, that's exactly how she would have reacted. Now, however, when she looked at him she wasn't seeing an enemy. If they weren't enemies, Sarah had no idea what that made them anymore, but it was enough to almost feel sorry for him.

That didn't change the simple fact that getting away from him was the best course of action. Even if it didn't leave her with the joy it had before, Sarah was well aware that she could only go so much longer in his company before she simply gave in and let him have his way simply because he was the only strong connection she still had in her life. Getting away from him meant a fresh start and it was clearly the right thing to do; and she had a long plane ride to convince herself of that. Maybe she would even succeed.

Getting off the plane in Port Angeles, Sarah had no trouble finding Charlie. He was older and grayer than she remembered, but it was clearly him. Having gotten used to people finding her inexplicably off-putting, Sarah had gotten into the habit of keeping her personal space to herself since no one seemed keen to come into contact with her. She stuck her hand out for Charlie to shake when she first saw him. Charlie chuckled and exerted himself to give her a quick, awkward hug. Sarah hugged him back.

They walked to Charlie's police cruiser without a word. With Sarah spending the entire year, they had no shortage of time, and Sarah liked Charlie's silence. It was peaceful, and peace wasn't something Sarah had a lot of in recent memory. She spent most of the hour drive staring out the window at the forest while the radio played softly in the background. Forests always seemed magical to Sarah and she loved them. Not simply magical in their beauty, no, Sarah often found herself wondering if there were creatures beyond imagining living just inside their boundaries and hiding from those who didn't believe. There was no doubt in her mind that magic was real: she'd seen it. Most people who'd been through what she'd been thought would have believed in it; though, she supposed, most would rather fear magic than embrace it, so perhaps it was for the best.

"Do you remember Isabella?" Charlie asked her some ways into the trip. Sarah was jolted out of her fantasies at this unexpected interruption. Her eyes left the forest to turn back to her uncle and she nodded.

"My cousin? Yeah," she replied, though with a small degree of hesitation. Sarah had only seen her cousin once and it was when they were both very young. She wondered what there was to say about her.

"She was supposed to come up to stay with me." Sarah was suddenly awash with guilt.

"Oh, Charlie, I'm sorry! If you had told me…." He waved a hand to stop her apology.

"She didn't come." This flat and calm statement seemed more heartbreaking in the moment than any tears or anger. It felt like Charlie had expected this all along, but it broke him nonetheless.

"I'm so sorry," Sarah said gently. Charlie shook his head.

"I'm fine. Besides, I have you to keep me company," Charlie said gruffly. Sarah gave him a fond smile. Charlie was a very simple man, but simple might be exactly what she needed. "I only mentioned it because I got her entered into the school here and it's a small town so people talk…."

"They are going to think I'm Isabella," Sarah stated, easily catching on to what he was trying to say. Charlie scratched his neck and gave a nod. He'd only glanced her way once or twice throughout the whole of the exchange, keeping his focus on driving. It was his way, Sarah remembered. He'd always kept himself at a distance from the world. Sarah supposed they had that in common now, even if hers wasn't by choice. Even so—or perhaps because of this—Sarah felt her cousin's actions much more strongly than she would have otherwise. More than anything she wanted to offer Charlie what little consolation she could. "That's fine. I could be Isabella. If you don't mind, that is," Sarah added hastily. Charlie shrugged.

"I can change it," Charlie offered, but Sarah shook her head. She could tell that he wasn't fond of the effort involved in changing all the paperwork and even less in having to explain to the people why his niece was coming instead of his daughter.

"Nah. Who knows, it could be fun. And I could use a fresh start," Sarah mumbled the last part to herself. That was why she'd come out here after all, wasn't it? An escape. "Besides, I can't think of anyone I'd rather have for a father," she said, not untruthfully, given her current mixed feelings about her own father. Charlie blushed and mumbled something that Sarah couldn't quite make out. Sarah didn't ask, instead returning to staring at the forest with a smile.

The house was much as Sarah remembered it from years ago. It was simple and small, but served its purpose nicely. Her father would always refuse to stay and book them into a hotel, but Sarah appreciated the appeal of a home. Even better one that lay right on the edge of one of the forests that she so loved. Her eyes were drawn away from the house rather quickly, however, to the rusted, red pickup truck in the driveway. Her eyebrow rose.

"Hey, Charlie," she called, exiting the car and seeing Charlie already starting with her bags. He paused. "What's with the truck?"

"I bought it cheap from Billy Black. Figured you would need a car." Sarah assumed that the truck had been intended for Bella, but she appreciated the gesture anyway. Grinning at him, she walked around the car to help with the bags, but not before impulsively leaning over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I love it," she assured him, seeing the relief on his face as she did so. At Charlie's insistence, she left the bags to him and made a beeline for the truck. Though she hadn't seen the inside yet or even know if it worked at all, she hadn't been lying. She did love it, because it was the first time in a long while she felt she had someone looking out for her. Sarah ran her fingers along the rust-red paint, a few flecks brushing off as she did so. Only Hareth had given her thoughtful gifts like this. Sarah pulled her hand away sharply. She wouldn't—couldn't—think about Jareth. That was why she had left in the first place, to get away from him. It would entirely defeat her purpose if she began to—heaven forbid—miss him. Shaking her head, she followed Charlie into the house.

It was not a large house, but with just Charlie it seemed cavernous. Sarah paused to look down the hallway at the long rows of picture frames. They were all of Isabella, one for every year. Sarah sighed. As she turned she saw one more picture on the other side of the hall. Her own smiling face stared back at her. It was the picture she'd sent last year. Every new discovery she made seemed to make Sarah feel better and better about her decision.

After all, in a town like Forks, what could possibly go wrong?