Jareth's Return

Dori(5)

Dori's heart broke listening to Jareth tell his story. She could hear the sorrow in his voice as he spoke. He really had scared her with that little stunt; she saw him disappear, as though he was just wiped away, as if by the brush of a massive dust cloth. He was gone for about ten whole seconds before she saw him fall from the rather high ceiling. He didn't seem to just fall from the ceiling,  but it had seemed to spit him out, like a drop of water from a faucet.

Hearing the almost tangible anguish as he described the pain he felt while Shifting home, she wanted nothing more to hug him. Dori restrained herself from acting upon that thought, telling herself that would be creepy and he wouldn't react well. So, instead, she contented herself with leaning on his shoulder and holding his abnormally cooler hand, trying to calm and reassure him. This she did while holding in the tears that had formed and threatened to spill over at any point.

When Jareth finished, he drew a slightly shuddering breath, wiped a hand down his face and composed himself. Then, they were sat in a warm, comforting silence a top a layer of couch cushions.  Dori was the first to break the ice. "I think I know how you got here."

Jareth looked at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. "How?"

She took a deep breath. "Last night, when my dad was, um, delivering, my punishment," the word was spoken with hate, disgust and embarrassment, "I was just in so much pain, it hurt so badly that I couldn't think straight. I was just so tired, he'd woken me up, you see, and I told him to stop. It didn't work, it just made it worse and he went mad." Her voice broke a little; she hated talking about times like that. More than anything, she loathed her father. Dori couldn't stand him for being the way he was, she despised him because she couldn't fully hate him. She absolutely hated herself because, despite all the times he 'punished' her, she still loved him; he was her father.

Jareth, whose hand was still held in her own, gave her a gentle squeeze. It was his way of returning what she had given him. This Jareth is turning out to be so much better than movie him. "One of his swings hit me in the face, and the pain became too much. I could feel myself begin to black out and the last thing I remember is seeing the clock, with its hands on midnight. Right before I blacked out, though, I...I made a wish."

He tensed and Dori braced herself for his rage, she was sure he would hate her now. "What did you wish for?  What were your exact words; can you recall them?" He pushed himself away from her and stared at her eyes. Her hands missed the weight and growing warmth of his.

She thought back, trying to remember what stupid, blessed words she had said. Nothing came. Another idea did come to her, though. Man, call me butter, 'cause I am on a roll. Realizing how that sounded, she vowed never to think or say it again. "No, but, I could show you, couldn't I? Like you showed me?" She tentatively held her hand out to him.

He sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair. "I suppose, but rifling through people's minds isn't easy, even if they are wide open and not resistant in any way." He grabbed both of her hands, shocking her, as she shivered again at the feeling of his skin, already cool once more.

She nodded, and closed her eyes, deciding to make sure that she eased his way as much as possible. In her mind, she felt a movement and got a sense of....Jareth. So sad and lonely, imposing and regal, loving and feared. It was a strange and wonderful feeling. Dori cleared her thoughts of everything but last night and tried to push every single detail towards him.

He gasped and the grip on her hand tightened as he cried out a small "Ah!" She was going to ask what was wrong when she felt it. A roaring presence in her mind, over whelming Jareth's presence completely, that dug through everything in her head. It caused every memory she had to flash through her mind. Along with every feeling that came with them.