Disclaimer: I own neither 9 nor Labyrinth. I wish I owned both, personally.

AN: This HAD to be written. I couldn't not write it. Because ever since I figured out that Jennifer Connely was in both, I just about exploded. Granted, it's not the best crossover ever invented, but at least it now exists. I depend on you, dear readers and writers, to provide a better crossover between the two.

For years the Goblin King watched over the loud, raucous human world. Not for his own sake—he'd had more than enough of kidnapping human babies, thank you very much—but for Sarah.

His beloved didn't know what she was getting herself into.

She lived happily in her home, went to her school, acted in her little plays, all the while blissfully unaware of the chaos that was building around her.

War was coming.

But what was war to a creature such as herself? Just distant news of a faraway place, too obscure to cross her path. Just a flyer here and there on campus, a momentary lapse of attention as the news reported some other atrocity. Nothing worth notice. She could hardly pronounce the name of that country, let alone its chancellor. She could care less what magics his men employed in the name of science.

But Jareth did. He knew what was coming. And while he was less than concerned for the 7 billion idiots that plagued that ugly world, it troubled him.

It was Sarah's world. And when it fell, she would fall with it.

He broke his longstanding rule and ventured into her presence.

She sent him away.

He tried to explain what was happening.

She didn't believe him.

He commanded. He persuaded. He swallowed his pride and begged her to come with him to the shelter of the Labyrinth, where the metal monstrosity could never disturb her. Where its fumes could never poison her.

But each time she refused, and now she knew that he lacked the power to force her into safety. He was left alone with his despair, unable to do anything but watch as life was purged from every inch of the planet. As bombs filled with the heinous gas were sent to her city.

He could hear the whistle of death in the air.

"Give this to her," he finally commanded, forcing an apple into Hoggle's hand. Their argument had taken them just outside of Sarah's apartment building.

"I ain't gonna," the dwarf said, pushing it back. "An' you can't make me, neither."

"I can't." The words were like acid on his tongue, but he repeated them like a nursery rhyme. "I can't I can't I can't save her and I cannot force her and in mere moments she will die. And there will be no saving her."

He gestured to the air with one gloved hand—the gloves were all but worn through by now from wringing his hands—and the dwarf looked up. He could hear the roar of airplane engines above them. He could taste the poison they carried.

"Ain't… ain't there nothin' you can do for the little lady?" Hoggle asked quietly, suddenly contrite.

"Without her consent I cannot save her." He spoke faster than he usually did; they were out of time. "With this I can merely enchant her. But only if she takes it willingly and she will only accept it from you now will you do it?"

The dwarf didn't bother to answer him. He seized the apple and ran—sprinted up the stairs to Sarah's room, panting and begging and pleading and—

There it was. Teeth broke the skin of the apple, and infused her with his magic. With a surge of will the Goblin King searched, scouring the globe for something, anything that would be left after the mechanical devastation. Anything that could possibly survive.

At last he found a creature, just barely in the throes of birth. It was pathetic and small, but it would do.

Sarah went limp as her soul was transported into the tiny body. Hoggle cried out—he didn't get a chance to finish that cry before the third of the falling missiles blasted the building to rubble.

From the safety of his own domain Jareth watched over his beloved as she woke up, blinking mechanical eyes and staring into the eyes of an old man. There was something about the way the man looked at her, some intuition that told him of the conqueror Sarah had once been. The old man lowered her to the floor and smiled.

"Hello, Seven."