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anythingdrabbleTitle: Awake and Dreaming
Fandom: Labyrinth
Characters/Pairings: Jareth/Sarah, OFC
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: Sarah knows the questions, and more, are coming.
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Henson, not the author, and are used without permission.
Laughter rang through the tiny loft, drowning out the pouring rain outside. Neither was an unusual sound. Sarah had grown up quite accustomed to the almost-daily rainy weather, and her child was a happy girl, thankfully. She didn't have much to be happy about, granted, but she was still too young to know how different their lives were from all those around her. She did not know of her mothers' friends in the shadows, and Sarah always found a way to explain away anything about which her baby girl did pose questions.
But there would come a time, Sarah knew, her dark eyes glancing to the clock as it chimed. Suddenly, her mind was snatched back to another time, a time when she had not recognized how free she was or all that was being offered to her. She had seen only that she had to rescue her brother from what she had mistaken to be craziness and wicked beings. Her breath caught in her throat as her daughter's laughs abruptly mingled with the chuckles of another.
She could still hear his voice, and she wrapped her arms around her light frame as a chill swept through the room. She could never forget him. How could she? she thought, a handkerchief waving in her face that she momentarily mistook for a banner. But there were no Knights here. No Knights, no Goblins, no Kings. This was the mundaneness of common life, in a common, poor woman's world, a woman who could barely keep a roof over her head and that of her child.
A woman who could not forget how this child had been born out of wedlock or how, one day, not too far from now, when she started school and joined other children her age, would have questions about her father, a father Sarah could not produce, could not explain, nor of whom could she even produce a picture. A father she had never, in her waking, clear moments, known. A father who every psychologist her father had insisted on had striven to make her believe had never existed.
A father whose existence she could see, she did see every day clearly in her daughter's eyes. She uttered a soft cry suddenly, trying, in vain, to scurry backwards on the torn seats of their secondhand couch. Blue and green eyes blinked owlishly up at her. Sarah fought to calm her rapidly beating heart.
"Did I scare you, Mommy?"
"O-Of course not, Lillian," she murmured, forcing herself back down on the couch and reaching out to stroke her daughter's blonde curls. "Mommy just had a nightmare."
"But you're awake!" Her daughter giggled; Sarah felt flames leaping in her cheeks.
She was awake, or was she? It was so hard to tell reality from dreams anymore. But she knew one thing for fact. She knew it every time her eyes looked into those of her child's. Her father would come calling one night; this time, Sarah would be ready.
The End
Fandom: Labyrinth
Characters/Pairings: Jareth/Sarah, OFC
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: Sarah knows the questions, and more, are coming.
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Henson, not the author, and are used without permission.
Laughter rang through the tiny loft, drowning out the pouring rain outside. Neither was an unusual sound. Sarah had grown up quite accustomed to the almost-daily rainy weather, and her child was a happy girl, thankfully. She didn't have much to be happy about, granted, but she was still too young to know how different their lives were from all those around her. She did not know of her mothers' friends in the shadows, and Sarah always found a way to explain away anything about which her baby girl did pose questions.
But there would come a time, Sarah knew, her dark eyes glancing to the clock as it chimed. Suddenly, her mind was snatched back to another time, a time when she had not recognized how free she was or all that was being offered to her. She had seen only that she had to rescue her brother from what she had mistaken to be craziness and wicked beings. Her breath caught in her throat as her daughter's laughs abruptly mingled with the chuckles of another.
She could still hear his voice, and she wrapped her arms around her light frame as a chill swept through the room. She could never forget him. How could she? she thought, a handkerchief waving in her face that she momentarily mistook for a banner. But there were no Knights here. No Knights, no Goblins, no Kings. This was the mundaneness of common life, in a common, poor woman's world, a woman who could barely keep a roof over her head and that of her child.
A woman who could not forget how this child had been born out of wedlock or how, one day, not too far from now, when she started school and joined other children her age, would have questions about her father, a father Sarah could not produce, could not explain, nor of whom could she even produce a picture. A father she had never, in her waking, clear moments, known. A father who every psychologist her father had insisted on had striven to make her believe had never existed.
A father whose existence she could see, she did see every day clearly in her daughter's eyes. She uttered a soft cry suddenly, trying, in vain, to scurry backwards on the torn seats of their secondhand couch. Blue and green eyes blinked owlishly up at her. Sarah fought to calm her rapidly beating heart.
"Did I scare you, Mommy?"
"O-Of course not, Lillian," she murmured, forcing herself back down on the couch and reaching out to stroke her daughter's blonde curls. "Mommy just had a nightmare."
"But you're awake!" Her daughter giggled; Sarah felt flames leaping in her cheeks.
She was awake, or was she? It was so hard to tell reality from dreams anymore. But she knew one thing for fact. She knew it every time her eyes looked into those of her child's. Her father would come calling one night; this time, Sarah would be ready.
The End
