Oh, Now Why the Concern?

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Cum hoc ergo propter hoc

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Toby woke to the muted sounds of crying and muttering. Daylight crept into the room around the imperfect seal of the floral curtains, and dust sparkled in the air as he rubbed his eyes clear. "Sarah?" He pushed back the rough blanket and sat up. "What's wrong?" he asked the air as he swiveled in place.

It didn't sound like her crying; he'd heard enough of that the last months and would recognize it instantly. Swinging his legs over the end of the too large bed, Toby scooted until his feet settled on the scratchy carpet and curled his toes. The covers were missing from the other bed; the whole thing yanked and messy.

"Sarah?" He tugged at the hem of his PJ shorts. The crying didn't change, and he figured it must be coming from the bathroom since neither she or Jareth were in the bedroom—but a pile of their clothes were, shoved and tossed along the far wall. Goosebumps ran over his arms. He didn't like this, felt too much like the day he found out about mom and dad.

Standing before the closed bathroom door, Toby shifted from foot to foot, unwilling to move. The crying was louder here. They were in the bathroom. Could Jareth be crying? Why? Whatever would make Jareth cry, Toby wasn't sure he wanted to find out, and his small fist wavered halfway to the door.

"Sarah?" he said again as he lightly banged his fist on the cheap, wood door. Whoever was didn't stop crying; their voice didn't change at all. Toby knocked again, harder and called for both Sarah and Jareth. Still nothing. "I'm coming in, don't get mad."

Toby turned the handle, hoping it wasn't locked, and the door cracked open. He wasn't sure what he expected to see—maybe Sarah crying like she was before he made his wish, maybe even Jareth upset because Sarah did something mean—what he found was a lot worse.

"Jareth?" he said, his hand limply hanging from the handle, his other numb at his side.

The Goblin King had wedged himself at the rear of the bathroom, in the tub, and clutched Sarah to him as if she might slip down the drain. They were wrapped and smothered in the missing blankets, their heads and limbs sticking out. Jareth's head slowly pivoted upward from Sarah and Toby barely recognized him. His eyes were wide and red, his skin whiter than when he was first injured, and tears—old and new—wet his face.

"Jareth? What happened?" Toby was hardly able to ask because his tongue was suddenly too dry.

Jareth's voice was raspy. "I tried … to bring her back." Jareth's eyes closed and his head lowered. "Too late… too late." Their blanket cape shook with Jareth.

Toby moved forward; finally able to release the door handle. "W-what's too late?"

"Sorry, Tobias. So sorry…"

Toby stepped into the tube and leaned over them. Sarah's face was hidden beneath Jareth, but he had to see. "Jareth?"

"No," Jareth tucked her closer to him, "don't…"

"Let me see her," Toby said, feeling oddly grown-up compared to the Goblin King. Why did he have to always be the adult? He just wanted things back the way they were; when they were easy and all he had to worry about was talking to Susie and passing math.

Jareth looked up at him again. "I didn't mean it. I tried to fix it."

Oh no. Toby gulped and pulled the blanket as Jareth shifted back, watching him. He could see her breathing was slow, but he didn't know if that was good or bad. She stared back, blank and empty. Toby knew that look. He'd become very familiar with it since That Day. Sarah looked like his mom did, lying in that icky place he hated visiting once a month but Sarah dragged him to anyway. Where he preferred to lurk while Sarah held mom's hand to told her lies about how they were doing.

"What…?" Toby touched Sarah's cheek while he glared at Jareth, who shrank a little.

"Accident, accident, accident, would never hurt, sorry, sorry, sorry," Jareth said, banging the back of his head against the wall.

Toby flattened his palm to Jareth's forehead. "Stop it! I know you wouldn't." Sighing, Toby glanced back and forth, realizing his sister needed him, a lot, fast. "You stay here. I'm going to call help."

Jareth mumbled but didn't move, and Toby took it as agreement. He raced from the small bathroom and back to the main room, to the phone. He'd never had to call 911 before, but he didn't hesitate now. Something had happened to his sister, something involving Jareth, and he wasn't about to do nothing! Jareth was doing enough of that for both of them.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Hello? It's my sister, she needs help." The phone receiver was slick in his hand; he had to hold it with both or risk dropping it.

"What's your name?"

"Toby Williams."

"Okay, Toby. Tell me what happened."

"I don't know, but she's in the bathroom with Jareth and he's crying and she won't wake up."

"Okay, I've got an ambulance and police coming to help you. Who's Jareth?"

"He's the … um … he's our friend."

"Is Jareth hurt?"

Toby's brow wrinkled. "I don't think so."

"Is your sister breathing?"

"Yes."

"Did Jareth hurt her?"

"He said it was an accident."

"Okay, Toby. Stay on the phone with me until the paramedics and police get there, okay?"

"Um, okay…"

And he did. For the several minutes, which felt like several hours, Toby waited on the phone answering question and hearing Jareth's mumbling cries in the other room. What had happened? Last night Jareth had enthusiastically picked out toys and games with him (he especially loved the whoopee cushion) but they'd left right after and never gotten to play with anything. He'd fallen asleep in the car no matter how hard he tried to stay awake, then the next thing he remembered was waking up in the motel.

A knock on the door—"Hello, EMS, someone called 911?"

"They're here!" Toby told the operator before dropping the phone to thud on the carpet and rushing to open the door. "I called you!"

"Hey," a female in a dark blue uniform and carrying a large bag said as she squatted. "I'm Ann. What's your name?"

"Toby." He grabbed her hand, pulling her into the room. "You have to help Sarah."

Ann stood and followed, allowing him to drag her to the bathroom. She was quickly trailed by a man in a similar uniform. "What's wrong with her?" she asked.

"I don't know, but if Jareth can't fix her than it must be bad!" Toby said, sliding to a halt at the smaller doorway.

"Oh crap," Ann said softly, then glanced over to her the man standing behind her. "Doug, better make sure the cops get in here. I have a feeling we're going to need them."

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Toby sat in the hospital room with Sarah. She lay in the uncomfortable-looking bed, quiet and facing the ceiling. One of the nurses had closed her eyes earlier, so she no longer stared without seeing, but she still didn't speak or move when Toby talked to her.

Hours had passed since he'd called 911. They'd tried to help, then brought Sarah to the hospital, but she wasn't any better. He'd been given his bag of personal items, and he'd changed into real clothes a while ago, once all the doctors and nurses finally left him and Sarah to sit alone in the weird room (after picking and prodding over him and deciding he wasn't hurt). He supposed he should be used to most of them and their things. They looked and acted a lot like the ones around his mom months ago, but that sort of made it worse.

Actually, what really made it worse was seeing the clear tubes and colored wires hanging and tangled all over Sarah and the beep-beeping of the machine. He remembered Sarah explaining how it mimicked his mom's heartbeat, telling the doctors how she was doing—so was that Sarah's? That was good, right? But Sarah didn't have any big tube in her mouth, just a funny mask over her face that made a low hissing. The nurse had said it helped her breath, but Toby didn't see how. Toby didn't 'see how' on a lot of things right now.

He wanted to.

He wanted to know why Jareth wasn't in the room with them. He wanted to know why when Ann had helped them, she'd told Jareth to move away from Sarah, then gently pushed him away too. He wanted to know why Sarah and Jareth hadn't been wearing any clothes under the blankets—another game? He wanted to know why other people in uniforms had arrived and treated Jareth as if he was in trouble. Was he? Toby didn't know. He hadn't seen Jareth—except for a quick glance as a nurse rushed him to Sarah's room—for a long while. Jareth had been lying in a bed like Sarah's. He hadn't looked good. And he hadn't answered Toby when he called out for him, or even twitched.

Toby slid off the adult-sized chair, the vinyl sticking to the backs of his legs, and shuffled to Sarah's bedside. Her pale hand lay on top of the mint green blanket, a clear tube stuck in the back of her hand which ran up to a large bag of clear fluid. Toby poked his head through the bedrails, resting his chin on the crinkly, plastic mattress near her arms,

"Sarah..." he sighed, "why wouldn't you wake up?" Sniffing, he reached through the rails and touched her hair. "I need you, Sarah." She hadn't spoken or made a sound since the 911 people had separated her from Jareth's grip. A small part of him worried that she wouldn't ever.

"Is this Sarah Williams' room?" someone ask from the hallway, their voice muffled by the partially closed curtain and glass door. Toby removed his head from the Sarah's side and stood, tensing, fingers gripping the rail.

"You are?" Toby heard Sarah's nurse ask, an older woman who'd been nice to him.

"Detective Franks. I need to ask Ms. Williams a few questions."

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Detective. She's still unresponsive."

"I see. Any suspicious reason for her condition?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did her boyfriend beat or rape her?" Toby inhaled, then glanced at Sarah. His mom had always scolded him for watching too much TV; he knew those were bad words meaning bad things. Had Jareth done those things? Using his nine-year-old, inborn sneakiness, Toby tiptoed closer to press his ear to the hanging cloth with its print of light blue squares.

"Well, from what we can tell, she hasn't experienced any physical trauma, and the intercourse wasn't forced," the nurse said.

That was good, right? Toby thought it must be good because the man sounded disappointed.

"Hmm, so what happened to her?" the man asked.

"Difficult to say. The MRI is clear, and so is her blood work. "

"Which means?"

"No brain damage that we can found and no drugs in her system, but the tests are preliminary."

"So you're telling me, you haven't been able to figure out what's wrong with her?" the man asked.

"Detective, I'm saying that so far we haven't discovered any reason for her lack of brain activity. I've never seen anything like it."

"I see…"

"Is there anything else?" she asked, and Toby heard how irritated she sounded, not nice like earlier. "I have other patients."

"No, thank you."

Footsteps padded away, then Toby heard the glass door slide open, and he dashed back to Sarah's bedside just in time to avoid being caught in the curtain being pushed to one side. He fidgeted while he tried to understand everything he'd overheard.

"Toby Williams?" a gray-haired man in a dark suit asked as he squatted next to him, faking a smile. Toby instantly disliked him for some reason. He didn't know why, but this man made him feel like things were going to be different. He reminded him of things he didn't want to be reminded of. Things that were bad and lonely and very, very not good.

Toby stuck his lower lip out and made sad eyes as he nodded. Adults usually hated that. Unfortunately, this man didn't seem fazed but his best pout.

"I'm Detective Franks." He put out a hand. Toby ignored it. "A police officer." Toby continued to ignore the hand. Maybe if he didn't shake it then none of this would be real.

"Okay," Franks withdrew his hand, "you're shy. That's understandable." The officer sighed and for a second Toby almost felt sorry he'd hadn't shaken his hand. "You thirsty, Toby? Maybe hungry?"

Toby shook his head, but his stomach growled, loudly, and Franks grinned. Darn it.

"You haven't had any breakfast, have you? It almost lunchtime now."

He wanted to lie. He wanted lie so badly he could taste the words, but food did sound really good. What about Sarah? His eyes flicked towards her.

"Your sister will be fine while we go to the cafeteria." Toby snaked his hand back to Sarah's and wrapped his fingers around hers. "Promise," Franks said, and Toby almost, sort of, kinda believed him enough to allow Franks to take his hand and lead him from the room, reluctantly, his head pivoting over his thin shoulder as Sarah's pale figure receded.

Toby gulped. She looked just like Mom. He didn't like that.

"So what's your favorite food?" Franks asked, his sweaty hand way too big. Toby shrugged and looked everywhere but at the officer. "I bet you like pancakes, huh?" Toby shrugged again. "How about cereal?" Another shrug, the officers had acted friendly the first time too. Didn't change anything. "How about…"

Franks' question dangled as they passed various rooms, and Toby spotted the only other person he was interested in. Without a word, he slipped from Franks' oversized hand as easily as a greased piglet and sprinted. Franks yelled and ran after him, but Toby made it to his destination before Franks could stop him.

"Jareth!" Toby climbed onto the bed and latched onto his friend like a barnacle.

"Toby, you can't be in here!" Franks said, slipping an arm around his waist and pulling. Toby stuck tighter, calling Jareth's name, realizing he wasn't answering or moving. Then Toby saw the handcuffs around one of Jareth's wrists to the bed (they were shiner than his toy ones back home that came with his police/firefighter play set) and turned on Franks.

"Why are those on him?" Toby asked, mad and more than a little scared.

Franks groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. "Toby, just come with me right now, and I'll tell you about it in the cafeteria."

"No!" Toby tightened his hold around Jareth's neck and torso, arms and legs vacuumed sealed. "What'd you do to him?"

"We haven't done anything. We're trying to figure out what happened. Now come on," Franks said, reaching for him.

"I don't believe you! You think Jareth did something wrong, but it's not true! He would never hurt us!"

"Okay, okay…" Franks said, easing his hands around Toby's waist. "I just want to find out the truth. I want to help you."

"Then let him go!" Toby buried his head in Jareth's neck, crying. "Jareth! Jareth, wake up! You've got to help Sarah!"

"Come on, Toby," Franks said, grip stronger as he pried Toby from Jareth.

"No!" Toby's arms and legs stretched for Jareth, who lay motionless and staring at the wall. What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he help? "Jareth!"

Franks carried him across the room, and Toby grabbed anything he could to slow their progress—the bed rails, the door frame, anything. He didn't care that others came to the officer's aid. He didn't care how many held him and told him to calm down. He scratched and clawed and spit. He had to wake up Jareth, had to get him to help Sarah. He couldn't do this again.

"I wish someone would help Sarah! I wish the Goblin King would help Sarah! Jareth! Please!" Tears covered his face as he was carried away, mid-tantrum, shouting.

"Jareth, I hate you, I hate you!"

 

A/N: Thank you for all the amazing reviews on a story without much smut!  It's one of my most popular fics on every site. I'm still writing, never fear! But I've been having a lot of back pain (surgery this week) and it messes with my mojo.  But I've also started a Loki fic, for those into Loki. It's not Thorki if that's your thing, but it might end up being Lokane...we'll see.

Bonus points for anyone who knows what the title means and what it's refering to.

Enjoy Concern and thanks! You've wanted long enough for some smut. :o)