She remembered that day in 3513 A.D. The day he hid in the cellar hideout she had made for him, when he had been taken by them, used as an experiment according to him. She believed him, the city went on alert for the young fugitive, his face on posters all across town.

She had done her best to protect him, she barely escaped death or worse, somehow spared, perhaps so they could mock her and unwittingly leave behind a dangerous foe. But on that night, in 3513 A.D., they left her even emptier than before.

James Campbell was gone. They had not found him, yet he had disappeared from her home without a trace. All she could do was cradle his most prized possession, a little toy he had carried with him all his life, and weep. Weep like she had not done so in the past eight years.

On that night, in 3513 A.D., Sarah King grieved for the son she never had.

---

I always feel I'm neglecting Sarah from the FG stories mainly because of the fact she's barely IN them per se despite being a very important character to FG himself, essentially acting as his unofficial foster mother. Hopefully I can emphasise well enough how strong their relationship is within the stories.

I have to wonder what happens to Sarah while FG is unknowingly travelling to the many strange and terrifying worlds that lie across the multiverse. While he's having his fantastical adventures of cheer and misery, she grieves unknowingly.
For all she knows, her beloved young raptor has run away in fear, and may probably be dead, scared enough to leave behind his most precious item, a motorcycle toy he's had since he was four years old.

For that brief moment of grief, this is not Sarah the bartender or Sarah the crime network leader, but Sarah the mother. A mother lamenting for the son she never had.
Nobody ever sees her cry. Nobody else sees her as a mother but her son. And that's the way she prefers it.

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Art by  jamescorck, Sarah King to me.