Title: The Distance Between

Fandom: Labyrinth

Parts: one

Summary: Sarah's thoughts from the hall to the crib

Rating: G

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with labyrinth, I just

like to play

*******

The Distance Between

The lights flicker out and shock jolts through me

But more than that, there is the icy cold fingers of dread

Dread that I know that this isn’t just a power outage,

this isn’t some little technical error.

Maybe it’s my imagination

After all I’m young and reckless.

The space from the hall to Toby’s door

Seems like the expanse of the Sahara -

Vast, lifeless, empty.

But the distance to his crib is utterly mind boggling.

The dark seems to lunge in towards me,

Pressing on my throat, making me unable to breathe

Let alone scream.

Please let him be there...

Logically nothing can happen to him

When he’s safe in his room.

Safe and tucked in for the night,

With his blankie and his tears.

But I know better

God, let him be in that crib..

I can hear the floor creak under my feet, like

Souls whining as they’re disturbed.

Toby?

Part of me is so eager for an answering sound, yet the rest of me

Hopes that nothing comes from that damned crib.

Whether it’s out of anger or utter terror of

What could be in there, I can’t fathom

Toby...

Lighting, brilliant light that nearly blinds me through the window.

Thunder, like some angry god uttering a curse through clenched teeth

Toby...toby...

An inhuman gurgle, giddy shrieks of laughter.

I’m so wound up that I nearly shoot out of my skin

At the sounds. My eyes rocket round the room,

Trying to go all the way round my head at once

As if I was some owl.

Owl...Owls are messengers of death...

Where did that thought suddenly come from??

Oh god, toby..

Shadows on the wall peel off and come to life

Chittering voices from the cobwebbed corners

Whisper in sandpaper squeaks and menacing rasps

And the ever-stretching fingers of the dark air come to life,

Waiting to strangle me,

Waiting to smother me

When the blanket in the crib moves I want to cry out in relief

I want to laugh and roll my eyes

But I know that is not him!!!

As much as I detest that teddy snatching drool machine, I know him

...and that thing, that covered...

creature in that bed is not my brother.

Laughter, shrieks, thunder, lightning

thunk of drawers, flutter of sheets

glittering eyes that flash through the compressing dark

smacking lips and glinting teeth

fur and scales, armor and nails, all itching for something to HAPPEN

To slash, to tease, to mock, to rip, to torment.

Is it Toby they’re after, or...it couldn’t be... me

Fluttering at the window

The owl. Him. Me. Here. Recognition. Acknowledgement.

Two of the same. Adversaries. Dreamers. Warriors. Gamblers.

I want to run, but my feet won’t move back towards the safety of my room

Toby’s supposed to be safe here...is anything safe anymore?

I want to scream but my voice has been broken.

I can only watch as the flying creature pounds against the glass,

The doors creaking as they begin to give under his whim alone.

 can only walk forward, hand outstretched,

I know what will come

I have to do it anyway

My fingertips just barely touch what should be a soft, downy baby quilt.

But it feels like a shroud to my skin.

If I raise this, will I be destroyed?

Will my soul be taken? Will I be spirited away...

Toby is lost, for all I know. I should go. Leave, run.

But I can’t forget about him

Lip bitten till it bleeds, I lean closer,

Hoping to hear regular breathing,

See the flail of a fleshy hand.

I pull back the blanket, like a magician exposing his newest miracle.

And to my understanding, and still to my shock, the bed is empty.

Warm, the indention of his tiny body still in the mattress.

Empty.

No Toby. Not in his room. His safe room. In his safe house.

No abracadabra here...no incantation.

I said the right words and didn’t even know it...

didn’t I?

Mad laughter, derisive howling, chattering, cheering.

I can taste the blood in my mouth and nearly vomit as my stomach turns

The world is swirling faster, like a top spinning out of control,

Almost ready to wobble and fall smashing against concrete.

The pounding of the window, the creaking, the handle turns

So slowly and if I really wanted to, I could keep it closed.

I tell myself that, knowing that it’s all lies.

It’s all lies.

And then they open.

My mind explodes, reality ceases to exist.

The owl is diving right at my face.

Owls are messengers of death...

The death of what? Of the flesh, of a child?

Of childhood?

Feathers just barely skim my face, and the

Scent of them is wild and hypnotic.

I lean in to this magic, this tempting

Spell (it has to be a spell) that presses harder at me than the darkness.

And he appears.

Shadow and glamour, darkness and compelling magic.

All because of what I said.

All because of what I did.

Forget about the baby...

Shit.