caersidydd: (Complete)
[personal profile] caersidydd
Title: The Faerie Bond
Chapter: 3
Fandom: Labyrinth
Genre: General
Word Count: 1,160
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I neither have nor claim any affiliation with the Jim Henson company or Lucas films. All characters are property to their creators, none of which are me.

Summary: Since the night she ran the Labyrinth Sarah has lived a life relatively free of magic and the Fey. However, the Fair Folk are the only ones she finds she can turn to when the barren adult Sarah wants a baby. Can she trust the Fairies? Or is it all one big mistake?


Sarah’s home rang with joy and sweet laughter. Her husband bounced their baby boy upon his knee and the baby burbled and kicked with joy. Sarah was happier now than she ever remembered herself being. Her marriage was saved, and with the child her joy was complete. She felt as though nothing would hurt her ever again.

Then, just as everything seemed to have suddenly gone right, things changed, and everything went suddenly, horribly wrong.

The new parents quickly realized that something was not quite right with their child. At six months he was still fitting into all his old clothes. At a year he had not grown an inch or gained a pound. Sarah was the first to notice. As a young woman she had taken care of her younger brother Toby and knew just how fast babies grew. However, she was so desperate not to believe it that she forced it to the back of her mind and just didn’t think about it. It was always there though, niggling at her, waking her in the middle of the night with feelings of nausea and dread.

It was not until two years had passed that her husband finally seemed to figure out that something was wrong, and he seemed to realize it all at once. Or perhaps he too had just been pushing down the truth of it. He came into the kitchen one morning as Sarah was giving the baby its bottle and just stared at the child for a moment. Sarah saw the way he looked at the child and she felt the pit fall out of her stomach. She put on a smile in spite of it, determined to distract her husband.

“Sarah,” he said before she could even venture her quickly but carefully crafted distraction, “there’s something not right about the baby.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah responded, her tone flippant as she tried to brush off her husband’s concerns. He did not buy it. In fact it only seemed to alert him more to the issue.

“Sarah, it’s been two years and he’s still on the bottle?”

Sarah, who was turned away from him as she made breakfast, bit at her lip. Panic began to well up inside of her, “So? That’s not unusual,” she countered lamely.

“Not unusual?” He responded flatly. “Well what about this: he hasn’t grown an inch since we got him. He’s still wearing onesies for Christ’s sake.”

“Don’t be silly,” Sarah said with a laugh that sounded too forced, even to her own ears.

“Silly? I’m being silly?” Her husband strode toward her and forcibly turned her around.

“H-hey! What are you—“

“Look at him, Sarah! He can’t walk, he can’t eat solid food, he hasn’t even tried to form words,” he released his wife and stepped back from her, giving her a suspicious and penetrating look. “What the hell is wrong with him, Sarah? I know you know something.”

“Why would I know anything? I don’t know anything!” Sarah shouted defensively, and knew immediately that she’d done the absolute wrong thing as she watched her husband’s suspicions turn into beliefs written plainly across his face. She scrambled to cover up but it was already too late.

“Sarah, what the hell is wrong with it!?”

“There is nothing wrong with him!” Sarah screamed back. “He is perfect! He’s exactly,” Sarah choked, horrible realization suddenly gripping her with cold, icy fingers, “he’s exactly what we asked for.”

“What we asked for? What we asked for?” She suddenly grabbed her. She winced and tried to jerk away from his vice grip as she jerked her around to face the baby. “What I asked for was healthy normal baby. Does that thing look normal to you, Sarah? Is that normal?”

“So he’s different!” Sarah cried, jerking her arm out of her husband’s grasp. “So what? He’s still ours. He’s healthy and he’s happy!”

“He doesn’t grow!”

“He’s just behind! Underdeveloped or something! He’ll catch up!”

“Damn it, Sarah!”

Her husband slept in the guest bed room that night, and she fell asleep weeping and cursing Faerie kind.

The next year was as rocky as the last year before getting the baby had been. Her husband constantly hounded her about the child, where had had come from, who his parents were, what his medical history was. Sarah couldn’t answer any of his questions which only made him angrier and more resentful. Sarah couldn’t tell her husband that the baby came from the Fey. He already knew there was something wrong with the baby she couldn’t have him thinking she was completely off her rocker now as well, he’d have her locked up and then what would happen to the child. Sarah already knew in her heart of hearts what was coming, but that didn’t stop it from being any less painful.

Four years after the baby’s arrival it still hadn’t grown an inch or said a word. Sarah was in the kitchen preparing dinner in the slow, unfocused manner she had adopted since their arguments began again. Her husband stepped into the kitchen and she heard something set down on the linoleum floor with a thunk. She snapped back to herself and called over her shoulder,

“Dinner’ll be ready in a few.”

“Sarah,” Her husband said then paused. Something in his voice chilled the woman to her core and she slowly turned to look at her husband. He had set a packed suitcase down on the floor and his face was a mask of resignation. “I’m leaving, Sarah.”

“But—“

“No. Stop. Just listen, I don’t want to argue anymore. I’m done with that now. We both know this just isn’t working anymore. This shi-situation is just too strange.” He picked up his suitcase.

“No! Please don’t do this. We can figure out—“

“Look, Sarah. I’m not changing my mind,” he turned and began walking through the house to the front door. Sarah followed him. “I just wanted to tell you outright. You deserved that much. Nothing’s going to change. It’s been four years and I just can’t deal with this.”

Sarah began shaking her head in denial uttering words like, “No,” and “Wait,” and “Please” but never stringing together anything coherent.

“I’m sorry, Sarah,” he said. He gave her one last look, full of resignation and regret. Finally he sighed and turned to walk out the door.

Sarah was still shaking her head as the car’s engine turned over and roared to life in the drive way. She was still shaking her head as the car backed out and pulled away. She shook her head until she could no longer hear the sound of their car speeding down the street, then she stopped shaking her head and buried her face in her hands. She let out a long, high keening sound and sank to her knees then doubled over, her forehead touching the floor, the horrible wail not once ceasing.


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