Per aspera ad astra

Gabe lifted his head, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the figure approaching. He could feel the magic wafting off the newcomer, a prickling sensation against his battered skin. Jareth, wasn’t it? The name hovered in his mind, though he couldn't quite remember if they'd met before. No matter—help was help.

He exhaled a plume of smoke, the cigarette hanging limply between his fingers.

Who didn’t? Gabe’s voice was rough, laced with pain and exhaustion. He shifted slightly, grimacing as the movement sent a fresh jolt of agony through his body. Bloody rage demon in there… thought I could handle it. He paused, sucking in a breath that rattled in his chest. Turns out I couldn’t.

The smirk that usually played on his lips was nowhere to be found, replaced by a grimace that told the story well enough. He glanced at the shimmering energy that still hovered near Jareth, a wry chuckle escaping his lips despite the pain.

Neat trick, he muttered, flicking the ash from his cigarette. Bet you’re better at the whole ‘healing’ thing too, eh? ’Cause I could use a bloody miracle right now.

The tension between them hung thick in the air, magic sparking like static in the aftermath of the battle. Gabe didn’t like asking for help, but the alternative was dying alone in a pile of his own mistakes—and that wasn’t a fate he was quite ready to embrace. Not yet.

He took another drag, blowing out a slow cloud of smoke, his sharp eyes meeting Jareth’s.

So, you just gonna stand there and admire the mess, or are we doing this? 'Cause that demon in there... it’s not gonna wait around for us to get cosy. His voice carried a dry, bitter edge, but underneath it, there was a flicker of hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, this stranger could help him finish what he’d started.

The night was closing in, and with it, the growing weight of the demon's presence in the estate. Gabe knew they didn’t have long. He just hoped Jareth understood that too.

@Jareth