"Sarah?"

It had been forty-five years since the girl who ate the peach and forgot everything summoned the Goblin King to her world and it had been forty-five years since that same girl had brought the Labyrinth and its master to their knees. She'd returned to her world, victorious with her brother in tow, and they had both remained outside the grasp of the potentially vengeful king for their lives thereafter. Sarah and her half-brother, Toby, had flourished as adults and lived their lives as if the fantastical world of the Kingdom of Whence had never touched them.

"Sarah, darling, come sit down."

Toby had been much too young at the time to have retained any clear memories of the Underground, but bits and pieces of a singing man with mismatched eyes often visited his dreams. Sarah, however, remembered it quite well, though she knew no one would believe her, particularly her father and stepmother when they were alive. She'd kept it to herself over the years until some of the details began to fade, but had kept the important points of her adventure alive once she had children to tell them to. And even now, as her memories and autonomy trickled into a void, they would remember her story by heart.

"Mom?" Sarah's gaze moved incrementally left when she heard a familiar voice; the middle child of their little family, Colette, had joined her at the window. Colette looked relieved and gently took her mother's arm. "Let's go sit down, okay? The doctor will be back in soon." She led their irresponsive mother back to the edge of the hospital bed, gently guiding her down to sit while her siblings, Jeremy and Andie, looked on. Their father was seated in the chair across the room, his fingers drumming against the fabric-lined arms on either side.

There was a palpable silence in the room until the moment the doctor and nurse walked back in. All eyes except Andie's turned to the woman as she explained Sarah's symptoms and the general procedure for moving forward post-diagnosis; Andie was watching her mother's hands as their now-routine tremors darted through the thin network of bones. The soundscape around them blurred to her, but she didn't need to distinguish the doctor's words to hear "Parkinson's" and "dementia" reverberate through the room.

"How long does she have?" Colette asked fretfully from the bed, patting their mother's hand almost annoyingly fast. At least, annoyingly to Andie. She wasn't sure how her mom felt about it. Granted, she wasn't sure how her mom felt about much of anything anymore. She was more often than not in her own little world now and only seemed to talk when Uncle Toby was around or to tell them all stories from when they were kids. "Can she come home? Can you cure it?"

"Parkinson's disease isn't like cancer, it's not terminal. Patients with Parkinson's disease often live just as long as those without it. It simply makes living harder in some areas," the doctor said kindly. "Unfortunately, that also means that our treatments are limited to medication and therapy, which may or may not help… But yes, she can go home. Today, if she feels ready. She took quite a spill yesterday…"

Andie finally removed her gaze from Sarah's shaking hands and looked at the doctor. "So, Levodopa is our best bet, right?" she summarized with a sigh.

The nurse looked surprised, but the doctor kept a smoother expression. "You've looked into this online?" she guessed with a fake smile and a rather condescending tone. Like she only knew things thanks to the newfangled Google machine.

"I'm finishing my courses for a PhD in neuroscience in the fall, so… In a matter of speaking," Andie replied as she smoothed her hair out of her face, faint shadows beneath her crystalline green eyes that were the spitting image of her mother's.

The doctor's lips thinned a bit as she murmured, "Oh. Congratulations," and marked something down on her clipboard. Andie took a bit of pleasure out of her sheepish response; she hated when people underestimated her. "But yes, Levodopa is probably the best way to go in this case," she continued. "I'm afraid therapy may not help with her particular symptoms though your support and the support of any close family will help in ways medication can't. Pets tend to soothe patients as well, in my experience."

"So, that's it?" Colette asked in her normal pinched tone that practically announced her perceived stress level to the world. "That's all you can do? Pills and animals?"

"Jesus, Cole, give them a break," Andie groaned, as her sister had been up the asses of the hospital staff since two that morning, when they'd come in after finding Sarah sprawled in the hallway on the floor, just inches from the stairs. It was a wonder she'd missed them and suffered what minimal damage she had.

Colette shot a look at Andie, but didn't say anything else, allowing the doctor an opening to pleasantly say, "I will fill out the appropriate forms and have a prescription sent to your preferred pharmacy. Apart from that, just… Keep her comfortable and calm. Everything will go more smoothly that way."

With that being said, the doctor left with the nurse and they were alone again. Colette turned her eyes on Andie the moment the door shut. "I hate it when you talk to me that way."

"I hate it when you act like a nutcase in need of a paper bag," Andie shot back, her eyes moving back to her mother's hands. "God, Colette, let go, you're going to break her fingers!" She stood and walked over to them, prying her sister's hands off of Sarah's, which inspired Colette to stand and take her drama to the next level.

"Maybe I'm freaking out because I just found out that Mom is ill! Maybe that's a good enough reason to freak, like what the hell, what do you expect me to do?!" she demanded, manicured hands gesturing erratically with her verbal jabs.

"Pay better attention so you're not so shocked next time," Andie muttered.

"Oh, what's that supposed to mean?" Colette growled, her hands on her hips as she glared toward her sister.

"It means this isn't anything new," Andie said forcefully. "Nothing is different, we just have a word for what's happening now, officially. And if you spent more time around your family, this wouldn't be such a shock to you, this didn't happen overnight."

"I'm so sorry that I work, Cassandra, I didn't realize that wasn't what I was supposed to be doing with my life, but… Oh, wait. That's exactly what I'm supposed to be doing, what are you doing, exactly?"

"Are you really acting like I'm lazy? Really?" Andie sighed. "You have to have a better argument than that."

"Not so much you, but you should really consider who you're talking to," she said pointedly, looking over at their brother with an arched, perfectly shaped brow. "I'm not the one who needs a slap on the wrist."

"Seriously?" Jeremy snapped. This was always how fights went; it would start out between Andie and Colette because Andie always had the balls to say something, but it would end up between Colette and Jeremy because Colette felt that she and their brother shared a more level playing field. Whereas when she fought with Andie, it was the equivalent of her standing in a narrow pit while Andie hurled projectiles down at her. "I get laid off last week and you're calling me lazy?"

"Oh, please, you barely did a thing at that job, you were lucky to have it as long as you did," Colette jabbed, more confident now that she was in a familiar routine, no matter how conflicted.

"Like you were standing over my shoulder, you have no idea what I even did, not that that's anything new! Andie's right, you're never around, so quit acting like you are when you really just like acting like you know everyone's business!"

Andie let the argument between siblings be a calming current of white noise while she processed what she'd already known, her heart breaking for her mother even though her earlier words rang true, even now. There was just an official diagnosis on it now, on what she'd already known. Andie felt a small pressure against her stomach and she looked down to find her mom—her strong, imaginative, happy-go-lucky mom—resting her head against her abdomen like a small child searching for comfort. Andie frowned and gently stroked Sarah's hair while the yelling continued nearby, undulating like a tide. Her eyes moved from her mother's fading ebony crown of hair to her father, who hadn't said a word apart from urging his wife to come away from the window. "Dad?" she inquired softly.

David Wilkinson raised his eyes from the floor to regard his youngest child, who wasn't really a child anymore at twenty-four, he reminded himself day after day. Their gazes met and he gave a sad, tired smile. "I'm all right, sweetheart." Jeremy and Colette had finally quieted in separate huffs for the benefit of their parents, though all involved knew that the fight would be picked up again later. At least something was remaining the same, even if it wasn't something particularly good. "Sarah, are you all right to go home?" Sarah gave a shaky nod of her head after leaning back from Andie and Andie eyed the bandage on her elbow without much concern. She thought again of how lucky it was that she hadn't fallen down the stairs or hurt herself more seriously. "All right, I'll take your mother home."

"I'll ride with you," Colette volunteered, stepping over and gently helping Sarah to her feet while David went to fetch the wheelchair from the corner of the hospital room. Sarah was fairly sure on her feet, it was just her hands that were giving her trouble for now, but Andie had a feeling she allowed herself to be handled for their collective reassurance.

As if sensing her train of thought, Sarah looked at Andie and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly, which was how she smiled now. Andie smiled back and kissed her mother's forehead. "I love you. I'll see you at home."

"Love you, too," Sarah managed softly before Colette eased her into the wheelchair and began walking her down the hallway. David remained behind a moment to talk to Jeremy and Andie.

"Back to job hunting for the day?" David guessed when he looked at his son.

Jeremy nodded. "I have to find something. Terri's off for the summer and on retail earnings until August. We're not in trouble yet, but we will be." Jeremy's wife, Terri, was a middle school science teacher and the two had just welcomed their daughter, Violet, into the world five months before. "Keep me updated on Mom. Please."

"Of course," David murmured, hugging his son firmly before patting his back once and sending him off with a smile and a wave. He then looked to Andie. "Are you off for the summer? Now that finals are done, I mean. They are done, right?"

"I took my last one last Wednesday. But yeah, no summer classes this year. Good thing, too," Andie said quietly. Since it was just the two of them now, they started to walk out together. "I can pick up Mom's prescription on my way home."

"That would be great. So this stuff works, right? I've never heard of it."

"Yeah, it's the most common and the most natural, as far as pharmaceuticals go. After a few years of use, it levels off, but that's normal."

"Good. I count on you to catch that stuff, you know. I'm lost when Big Pharma comes into the picture."

Andie smiled a little as they passed through the automatic doors and went into the parking lot, seeing Colette helping Sarah into the front seat of the Subaru. "I know. I'm on it."

"What about side effects? Sometimes those are worse than the condition," David asked apprehensively.

"Nausea. Lightheadedness. That is to say, maybe set up in one of the guest bedrooms downstairs for awhile so she doesn't have to get on the stairs again," Andie suggested in a lowered voice.

"Good call. I'll see you at home," David said, hugging her tightly before getting in on the driver's side and starting up the car. Colette rolled the wheelchair forward and silently asked Andie to take it back up to the hospital with just a quirk of her brows. Andie nodded and took the chair, earning a kiss on the cheek from her sister before she got into the SUV as well. Andie took the wheelchair back up to the entrance, where a senior greeter accepted it with a big, overly enthusiastic smile. The guy had to be ninety and seemed to be in great health and mentality, Andie thought as she walked to her own car a few rows into the lot.

So why was her mother sentenced to a medicated, frustrating, and eventually fully assisted life at only sixty years old?

After three days on the medication, Sarah was like brand new. Physically, at least. She barely needed help to do much of anything, but Colette continued to stay with them at the house, particularly when David had to go to work, and Andie had stayed over to make sure the medication was working as it should and to help her dad with the house, even though that was why Colette was supposedly staying there. Jeremy visited when he could, once with Terri and Violet, but it wasn't much, considering the circumstances. Even in Sarah's still dementia-influenced state, Andie could tell she noticed and she could've kicked her brother, even though he was trying his best to support his new family.

Sarah's vocalization problems had lessened considerably, but she still spoke more softly than was normal for her. And more often than not, she'd hold a solid conversation before completely derailing onto either a different tangent or simply forgetting she was having a conversation in the first place and just stopping altogether. What was perhaps the most endearing—though strangest—aspect of this, however, was that she was beginning to recount the old fairytale she'd read to them as kids as if it had actually happened to her. Where there had once been a solid separation between the story and the reader, there were now phrases along the lines of, "Oh, you should have seen them!" or what particular things smelled, looked, and tasted like. At times, it was so vivid, Andie was hard pressed not to believe her.

Sarah was in the midst of describing what their storybook had referred to as "The Bog of Eternal Stench" when Colette finally snapped. "Mom, just stop!" Sarah quieted and looked surprised. "That was a story you told us as kids, you were never there! No one was because it's a fairytale. It doesn't exist!"

Sarah looked like she was grappling with holding back tears. "Yes… Yes, it does…"

Andie glared daggers at Colette. "Really? You really had to do that?"

Colette threw her hands up. "I just… It's… Mom, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" But their mother had tears rolling down her cheeks and wore such a childlike expression of hurt, it sliced them both through to the core. "I-I don't know what to do…," Colette finally murmured, holding back tears of her own now.

"What happened?" David asked when he came in, immediately going to his wife and looking her over, afraid she'd hurt herself again.

"Colette just hurt her feelings, I think," Andie sighed, holding her mom's hand.

David kissed Sarah's forehead and gently held her in his arms before looking to Andie. "Do me a favor and go into our bedroom. There's a box of her old things we never unpacked when we moved here. Bring over the little princess music box, it seems to calm her down when she gets like this."

"On it," Andie said, gently squeezing her mom's hand before letting go and heading upstairs. They'd been sleeping in the downstairs guest room as she'd suggested, but most of their stuff that wasn't used on a daily basis was still upstairs. She entered the room, flipped on the lights, and went over to the closet, sliding the door aside and checking the floor first before backing up a few steps to peer at the top shelves. It took two haphazard tries for her to pull down the right box, finding the music box right on top inside. She was about to go back downstairs when a glimmer caught her eye.

The lamplight had caught on the edge of what appeared to be a paperweight. Andie smirked a bit and lifted it from its tissue paper cradle in the box, thinking as she did, I've never seen one shaped like a peach before. It's way too light to be a paperweight, so it's just for decoration, I guess. Aloud, she only gave a quiet, "Hmph."

She brought the music box back to her dad and he cranked it up before handing it to his still teary wife, who held it daintily in her hands. It worked its magic after the first few seconds, her eyes fixed upon the girl in the center as the melody crooned from the mechanism. David took her to the guest room once she was calm, as she'd worn herself out from the emotions of the moment. Andie was looking at the crystal peach again when he came out of the bedroom. "Like it? You can have it."

"What is it?" Andie asked. "I don't remember ever seeing it before."

"It turned up when Sarah was packing up her bedroom to move in with me before we got married. She had no idea where it had come from and neither did I." He looked at the peach considerately. "I think we agreed that it was probably a present from her father at some point and we just never got rid of it."

"Weird," Andie commented, though she rewrapped the tissue around it and placed it in her purse on the counter.

"Right?" he agreed before looking at the time. "It's getting late. Do you have work tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "No. I'll probably be over in the afternoon after some errands. Anything I can pick up for you?"

"I don't think so. You can sleep over, if you want," he offered.

Andie smiled and shook her head again. "I ought to check on things. I slept over the last two nights. But I'll be back."

"All right, sweetie. I appreciate all the help over the past few days," he told her when she went over to hug him. "Seriously, I don't think it would've all gone this smoothly without you here, too."

"I just wish I'd known sooner, I could've come up from school more."

"Your education needs to be your number one priority. I didn't want to worry you and I think your mother would've agreed that you needed to focus on school."

"I know, but…," she sighed, feeling guilty that her dad had been in this alone until now. "I guess you're right."

He smiled kindly. "I know you feel bad, but please don't. We're going to make this work. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes, you will," Andie smiled, giving him one more hug before picking her purse up off the counter and heading out to her car.

Andie pulled into the lot of her apartment complex just before midnight and locked up her car before heading up to her little abode. She took out her keys and unlocked the door, locking back up once she was inside and moving the deadbolt in place as well. The stress of the past four days finally crashed in on her and she leaned against the door, tears rolling from her eyes and falling off to moisten the mat under her feet. After a few moments, she leaned away from the door and went into her bedroom to set down her purse, then did a walkthrough of her apartment, which didn't take long considering its size.

She returned to the bedroom and opened up her bag, taking out the tissue wad containing the glass peach and deciding her desk would be a nice place for it, as it was more or less barren along with the rest of her modestly furnished apartment. Andie unraveled the tissue and plucked up the peach by its little glass leaf, but a stinging sensation sliced through her fingertips at the contact.

"Ow, shit!" Andie gasped and nearly dropped it, managing to drop it into her other hand rather than the floor so it didn't make a mess. "Who the hell makes something like this sharp enough to…" She had just looked at her hand. There were slits in her forefinger and thumb, blood beading and trailing from each normally at first. And then the trails began to divide. They became more intricate, dodging around each other down her palm, seeming to defy gravity as they created an intricate pattern quite like…

Quite like a maze.

Blood dripped off Andie's hand to the paneled floor and she had just enough time to gasp before the wood parted and swallowed her whole.