Different Guardian Angel : Dead
A/N: This is my new fic, my other one is It's Showtime. Um... I don't know what to say about this one... only that if you guys want me to continue that I have fantastic plans for it. Please, please give this a chance! Read and Review!
I
The late Evelyn Deetz had been thirty-seven when she died. Lydia was beginning to recall her funeral more than anything else. The thin air and dry leaves that still clung desperately to the trees. The smell of someone's fire, the sound of whispers with scorching stares on the red haired woman next to Charles.
She remembered all of it.
Fleeting touches of the aunts, uncles, and cousins as the wooden coffin was lowered into the ground. Sympathetic eyes for such a tragedy. Such a lovely woman with so much spirit and life, her bubbly laughter and love... and now there was only her.
Daddy told his little girl that she was Evelyn's art student... that she came to make art when Mommy wasn't around. To a little girl it seemed reasonable. Mommy loved art so much, this woman must love it too. Yes, perfectly reasonable.
But the funeral lifted the veil. Lydia could see, feel, taste, touch, even smell all the lies that had been festering. The lies that had killed her mother. The lies that had made Mommy clutch her chest, disbelief flashing across her green eyes. "No," she had said, "no, you're lying." Lydia had been so scared, that day when Mommy was buying Lydia her first paint set. All she had asked was if the woman had shown Mommy her art. It would make sense for a student to show her teacher her work, even if she worked with Daddy.
Mommy didn't think so, and Mommy began to cry. She knew that Lydia didn't lie. She lied to Daddy, but never to Mommy. Mommy cried right in the middle of the store, and everyone was staring and whispering... whispering!
Pulling her daughter close, Evelyn laughed and kissed her baby when Lydia said that Mommy was scaring her. "Don't worry, sweetie. Don't worry, I love you." Lydia had somehow known that something big, bad, and strong was coming for her Mommy. "I love you too, M-Mommy. Very, very much."
Then, her Mommy said something that Lydia would never forget.
"You're my best. Best, Lydia. You're my best one."
Then she was gone. Lydia never stopped hugging Mommy until the men in white came.
Now she was in the ground. So far away, and Lydia was alone. Daddy, now Father, was nothing. The woman... the woman... Lydia's jaw clenched tightly so she didn't scream... or bite someone. She had to be quiet so she didn't upset Mommy.
But... when that woman touched her, she let loose. She spun around, her eyes wild and fierce. She swatted the manicured hand away, leaving scratches and blood behind. All eyes were on her, and Lydia drew in a mighty breath.
"Don't you fucking touch me!"
Her tears were so hot as she pushed past everyone and everything. She had no idea where she had learned such bad language... but she had said it. She would never apologize. She would never regret her actions... and she would never... ever forgive the student that was Delia O'Connor.
II
Two years later the woman had the audacity to marry her father. Two more years passed when she met the Maitlands and the infamous Betelgeuse. Five more years and Lydia was eighteen years old and staring at a volleyball net. She smiled as a boy, Robert otherwise known as Bobby, tossed her the ball.
"Serve it up, Lydia."
Every time he smiled, her heart fluttered a bit. She couldn't help it, no girl could. He was charming, just as he was with everyone else. Lydia brought her fist back, hoping her face wasn't too red that her nonconformist rep wasn't questioned. She hit the ball, sending it to the other side.
The volley was long, and Lydia kept her eyes on the ball. Yet... her heart wouldn't stop fluttering. Bobby was playing... but... it wasn't Bobby. Her fingers loosened and she covered her heart.
"Um..." The ball hit the floor right next to Lydia's feet. All eyes turned to her. Her legs shook... and she took a half step backwards. "Guys... I think I need," she wheezed, trying to catch a breath that she didn't know she lost, "a doctor."
Lydia fell, and the floor was hard as it met her back. Bobby ran to her, yelling to the teacher.
"Coach, come here!" His eyes suddenly didn't mean anything, and her heart and breathing was not affected in the slightest when he gazed at her. Whatever was smothering her had nothing to do with boys and hormones. "Talk to me, Lydia."
Funny, they rarely spoke before. Lydia nodded, trying to think clearly and not panic.
"Hospital. Drive me there." She grabbed his arm, pulling herself up. She huffed, and he steadied her, terrified. "We'll meet the ambulance halfway." Bobby didn't move. The frenzy and old memories resurfaced. The similarity of her and her mother screamed in her mind. "P-Please, B-Bobby, I don't want to d-die."
He ground his teeth together.
"Jesus Christ."
Bobby drove a pickup truck. It was green and she had heard him saying that he used it for loading vegetables for a farm stand he worked at. She breathed heavily, her fingers massaging her chest.
"Robert?" He grunted, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Robert... please don't let me—"
The seat dropped away from her. She fell... and landed on a stool. Lydia blinked. She removed her hand from her chest, for it was no longer in pain.
She rested her hand on cold wood. The bartender turned, and he had a knife through his neck. Lydia's mouth fell open as she realized what had happened.
She was dead.
III
Time faded and eventually washed away. It didn't help that his head was the size of a swollen testicle, but that was fixed. By the time Juno actually saw him, he had dust in his dead lungs. She had him chained to a chair in front of her.
"Do you know how deep you're in?" His lips had been dried shut. He ran his tongue over them, but it was not enough. "You sent two people through the roof of a house. You, thankfully, stopped an impromptu exorcism, and you attempted to marry a thirteen year old girl!" He was sucking on his lips, trying to remember how to speak. Juno sat down. "The Council is pushing for you to be exorcized."
He coughed.
"Uptight assholes..."
Juno's lips twitched.
"That may be, but they do pull the strings around here. I've stuck up for you before... and I will... I will again this time." When they had worked together... she smiled more. He hadn't seen her smile in over three centuries. "I can't keep doing this. The minor stuff, no problem... but she was just a girl."
"She agreed."
"And? She was naive and desperate." Juno sighed wistfully. "She did it out of love... something that rarely happens anymore."
Betelgeuse shrugged.
"Kids these days. They watch too much Disney." He leaned forward, not fazed when the chains squeezed him, keeping him still. "They believe in happy endings and the black and white of good verses evil."
Juno tilted her head to the side. For a moment, it sounded just like the old days when they were a team. They would have countless of debates on the worthiness of the living, and he would knock them down as Juno would rush to pick them up.
Oh, those were the days. The days before he went rogue and murdered an entire village.
"They took away almost all of your power. All you had worked towards with me was taken away... even your name. Your God-given name. Even your alias can't be spoken. Hell, you can't even say it." She buried her face in her hands. Betelgeuse's sneer melted off of his face. He hadn't seen her so exhausted... weak. "For the time being, you're alright. Same thing as last time..." She picked her head up. "I won't let them exorcize you, but you can't do anything until I have it finalized, understand?"
"Anything?"
She lit a cigarette.
"No trouble. Go to the bar, get laid, and lie low."
The only reason he obeyed was because of how quiet she had been. Juno yelled for intimidation, but when she was soft... she meant every word she said. Betelgeuse sat at the bar, milking and savoring his drink.
None of the newcomers were very appealing. Either that or thinking of Lydia Deetz for... he didn't know how long, somehow changed his standards. He didn't want a murder victim with cold blood sprayed all over her chest or a model with a broken neck. After every flaw and problem, it was obvious that he wanted life.
He had another drink poured when the squeak of a barstool told him that someone else had arrived. His green eyes slid down the row to see... a ghost. A ghost in his memories that made him take a moment to think. He didn't know her. He didn't know those long legs and tank top. He didn't know the modern hairstyle, short on one side and longer on the other. No, he didn't know any of that.
What he did know was those slightly surprised but mostly sad brown eyes.
Betelgeuse stood, pushing past all the yuppies who cried once they realized where they were and that all their thoughts on the afterlife were wrong. He tried to reach her, and he did.
"Hey—"
His cold hand touched her shoulder. She turned, her hand sliding from her chest and her legs raising up. She recognized him right away.
"Betelgeuse?"
IV
The hand on her shoulder... the green eyes and black and white suit... Lydia would not have believed it if she wasn't staring right at him.
"Betelgeuse?"
He smirked and opened his mouth to probably say something rude when a blinding light made everyone in the bar cover their eyes. When it faded, a robed, brown haired man remained. His face was older, aged and wizened.
Lydia could only watch as he walked up to her, pushing the bio-exorcist away. She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head.
"You are still needed, child."
He pressed his index finger to her chest, right above her dead heart. He smiled, and in a terrible, painful pulse, Lydia vanished.
Her body bounced.
"Lydia! Lydia, God dammit, talk to me!"
She gasped, and the truck came to a screeching halt. She heard the door open. Robert was on her side, opening the door and unfastening her seatbelt.
"I'm okay." Even as the paramedics strapped her down and drove her away, she just smiled and winked at the pale and quivering Robert. "I'm fine, really."
All the way to the hospital she was quiet. It was unnerving, dying then coming back. More like being forced to come back by that man. Her thoughts still dwelled on the mysterious man in white. Charles and Delia came in, her Father looking horrified. Even Delia seemed startled.
"Jesus, Lydia, what happened?"
For once, Lydia didn't feel like being sarcastic.
"My heart stopped."
Delia's black eyeliner was running.
"God, why are you so calm about this? Your father and I were in hysterics!"
Brown eyes narrowed slightly.
"I'm trying to keep calm, Delia, and you're not helping."
The "artist" huffed, rushing out of the room. Charles sighed, his hands in his pockets.
"Can't you try to be nice, Lydia?"
"No. Not to her."
He left, and Lydia sat in the hospital bed, alone.
V
A young man rolled his dark eyes, his hands running through his curly blonde hair.
"You're insane, Peter."
"Pshaw. I'm a... modern-thinker."
Michael shook his head, smiling.
"I'll make sure to tell them that when they're ripping off your wings."
"Just wait and see, this will all play out for a greater good." Peter's green eyes became distant. "Darn, I made a slight error. I"ll be right back."
VI
Robert "Bobby" West pulled into the hospital, trying not to tremble as he stepped out into the sun. He hurried through the doors and was directed to Lydia's room in ICU. He passed two adults, one he recognized as Mr. Deetz, and the other must have been his wife. She was crying, and Mr. Deetz was ordering her a cappuccino.
Bobby saw Lydia in a starch-white bed, still in her gym clothes. Her shirt had been cut open, but her bra was still on. She was talking on a cell phone. Robert waited and saw her say, "I love you."
Lydia didn't have a boyfriend currently. She usually took some time to rebound... so... she must have been talking to family. Or a very, very close friend. She ended the conversation, setting the cell phone down on the table. She looked up and saw him through the glass wall and waved.
Smiling nervously, he began to walk towards the door. However, the boy never made it. He smelled mint and heard a crack of a whip. A man appeared in front of him, dressed in pristine robes. Robert stumbled back as the apparition turned and looked at him.
"Hello, child. Please, do not interfere."
The man walked through the door and locked it. Robert began hitting the glass once he saw the terrified look in his peer's face. It bounced back. The man towered over her, a pillar of white, and he touched her chest. The heart monitor flat-lined, and Lydia Deetz died. Again.
VII
Pink hands slapped against the wooden counter. The bartender with the knife in his neck grunted, smiling slightly as he poured her a drink.
"Finally made up your mind, huh, kid?" He pushed a glass towards her. "Don't pay your death too much mind. It'll be easier that way."
He had a drawl... a slightly southern accent. Lydia managed a weak smile.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome." She stared at the glass, and... she thought of all the things she hadn't done. She hadn't said goodbye to everyone... she hadn't been to Europe, she hadn't had sex... hell, she hadn't fallen in love. Mourning tears for her life fell from her eyes. "Aw, don't cry, sweetheart. You'll see, being dead isn't so bad." He took the glass away and replaced it with a hot mug. "There you are, hot cider. It'll make you feel better."
She wiped her eyes, smiling.
"Thank you, you're sweet."
Winking, he wiped his hands on a towel.
"S'nothing, love."
Lydia sipped the cider, surprised at how delicious it actually was. Two hands slammed on the bar. Long fingernails raked down the wood.
"What... the... hell?"
Betelgeuse growled, his suit ripped and smoking. His hair was frazzled and a bit of it was on fire. He licked his thumb and forefinger, putting the flame out. Lydia blinked in shock.
"Oh God, what happened to you?"
He sneered.
"I was going to ask you the same question."
VIII
A/N: Well, that's the first chapter. Please, PLEASE review. Have a heart. I don't care if you hated it, tell me that you hated it! Tell me why you hated it, or... you liked it, explain what made you giggle, tear up, and salivate. Please. Well, I guess I'm concerned about OCCness, because... I hate OCCness... yeah. Let me know what you think! Read and Review!
-mia