Beetlejuice is a phenomenon. My poor human mind has difficulty understanding how someonecould own Beetlejuice… Though as I am told, it is true, nonetheless. However, that person is not me, however I may wish it. Therefore… Come on. Just read and enjoy. Don't sue.
--
The streets were really almost empty on a Sunday, which made it useless for her husband's usual sort of entertainment, she was sure. Nonetheless, there he was, walking along beside her like he had nowhere better to be. Lydia was taking pictures of shadows today, she didn't really know why herself. She just loved to find menacing shapes in them…
She knew that Beetlejuice watched her, even knew without looking the expression he had on his face. Staring ahead at some danger only he could see, annoyed with the world… Annoyed with her too, for dragging him around town to take pictures of shadows and bugs. His eyes, darker than usual. Thinking. Scheming, she'd say.
Finally unable to bear his sulky brooding anymore, she turned her camera to him with a big grin. Only partly forced. "Come on, Beej…" She wheedled at him, giving him her best pout. For once, it didn't seem to work, and he just looked at her flatly. "One picture Beejay, I haven't asked in months!"
"Beejay?" He echoed, with little amusement. "Whatever, take your picture, I don't give a damn."
Lydia frowned, then decided that maybe this was for the best. He'd always posed in her pictures, usually a bit over the top. Maybe getting him in a more natural pose would be good. She smiled, centered him in a way that made the shadows drape him for perfect contrast against his black and white clothes, and snapped his picture. Click.
At the last minute, he flipped the camera off, allowing his first grin in a while. She of course, caught it. "Urg, Beej…" She lowered the camera, shooting him her most tolerant glance. "Can't you be nice for thirty seconds?"
"Not a nice guy, babes." He muttered, going right back into his bad mood. It worried her. He'd been like this since the night before, when she'd told him about Juno. He'd told her not to worry about it, but it seemed to her, that was exactly what he was doing.
Lydia sighed, and started walking again. He fell in behind her, like her shadow, or a body guard, but with personal interest in guarding her body. She tried to distract herself by noticing the few people that were out with them… She knew better than to take their pictures, since some folks got real upset by that, but she could at least watch them.
And be certain, they watched her and Beetlejuice. Long, puzzled, slightly disturbed glances, that continued long after the person had passed. Like, 'what the hell are those two doing together?' It got under her skin a little, but she didn't say a word about it to Beetlejuice. She didn't dare. She knew he'd do something about it.
She paused at a clattering of metal, and the sound of something falling, and instinctively trained her camera down the alley. Whatever it was might make a good picture… Beside her, Beetlejuice tensed, just slightly.
A moment later, a ball of black and white fluff shot out of the narrow opening, green eyes flashing in fear, ready to tear off down the street. "Oh!" A gasp escaped Lydia's lips, and for the first time, her instincts as a photographer completely failed her. The camera fell, unnoticed, to her chest, and she started towards the terrified creature. "You poor thing…"
"Careful, babes." Beetlejuice warned under his breath, but as usual, she took anything he had to say as a suggestion, not a warning. The cat, finding its escape route blocked, threw itself into an arch, every hair on end, strangely colored tail a bottle brush. He looked at Lydia with pure venom in his eyes, ignoring for now, the bigger danger.
"Tk, tk, tk…" Lydia made small, reassuring sounds with her tongue, while Beetlejuice looked on, fascinated. What did she care about some mangy alley cat? As he watched with growing disbelief, the scraggly feline actually seemed to hesitate, as a visible question passed its eyes. Can I trust her? It seemed to want to.
Then, amazingly, though it didn't lower a hair, or stop looking half crazed, the thing let her pet it, with gentle dancing fingers. A moment later, she was holding the half wild stray, cradling it against her, he knew from experience, very soft chest. "Oh, you poor thing…" She whispered, tickling it behind the ears, her dark eyes grown soft. "Beej, I don't think he has a home!"
Beetlejuice made a small sound of disgust. "What tipped you off, Lyds?" He muttered, wondering what the hell she was going to do next. "Just put the flea-bitten thing down, and let's get this little field trip over with."
Her eyes flicked up, somehow both warm as butter, and unflinching as stone. "I'm not leaving him here, Beetlejuice." She informed him, in the sort of voice he knew meant she'd ignore any protests he had from here out. But then she paused, as if unsure what she would do with him, before a slow smile broke across her face. "I'll bring him to dad." She decided, with some satisfaction, as if that was that. "He must hate it in that house all alone…"
"Sure Lyds," Beetlejuice agreed, as dripping with sickly sincerity as possible, "Just what every newly divorced guy wants to help ease him back into the dating scene. A cat."
Lydia looked like she wanted to say something, but when she did speak, he had a feeling it hadn't been what she was actually saying. "Women like cats." She informed him, in a no nonsense tone. "And they like men who like cats. It shows that they're sensitive."
And that quickly, he found himself looking at her back, as she clipped down the street with a purpose. "Sensitivity, yeah." He muttered, following because he didn't dare let her out of his sight. "That'll get all the broads to jump into bed with him. That's what they want. A sensitive man…"
--
He knew before he answered the door that it would Lydia… Largely because there was no one else who bothered to visit. His school year friends had long since given up on him, and well, he'd pretty much stopped trying after that, trying to let his family be enough. 'Family,' now pretty much meant his daughter. He wasn't quite ready to consider Beetlejuice as family just yet.
So he wasn't surprised to see her on the other side of his door, even smiling, pleased at the company. Beetlejuice was there too, which wasn't that strange, if a little annoying… The odd thing was the ball of fur his daughter clutched, her face already set into its sweetest possible expression. "Look what I found!" She was genuinely excited as she burst through the door, bright as his little girl in a ponytail had ever been. "Can we keep him?"
His mind rolled over this for a moment. We? Shouldn't she be asking her mother? Then of course, he realized what she meant. Him. She didn't mean we, she meant him. He considered the rough looking beast with a critical eye, deciding that it was flea ridden, wormy, and god only knew what else. And he had about as much will to resist her ridiculous requests as he ever had. "Lydia…" He sighed, trying to think of, for once, the right thing to say. He actually found himself looking to his son-in-law for help.
"Sorry bub." The poltergeist muttered, looking in a somewhat more foul mood than usual. "I told her to leave the damn thing in the alley. But hey," His face twisted in something approaching amusement, "She says sensitive men like cats…" The way he said this left absolutely no question just what he thought of 'sensitive' men…
Edmond shook his head, caught between someone he didn't want to agree with, and someone he couldn't refuse. "Just until we find out who he belongs to…" He began, only to be cut off by a savage hug from his daughter. Of course it was bullshit. He doubted that cat had ever belonged to anybody.
"I'll give him a bath!" She added excitedly, grabbing a bag that Beetlejuice had been carrying, and running at all speeds down the hall.
Leaving him, and his son-in-law, alone. He warily eyed the poltergeist, who was smirking at him with silent laughter. "You're about as hard on that girl as a bag of warm grapes, Chucky." Beetlejuice informed him, matter-of-factly, as he reached for a cigarette. "Damned if you're not going to break her…"
Edmond snagged the cigarette from his lips, placing it back in his pocket. Beetlejuice looked surprised, then annoyed. He probably wasn't used to anyone telling him what to do. "I don't like you smoking around my daughter… period." He informed the ghost flatly. "I'll be damned if you're going to do it in front of me."
The annoyance in Beetlejuice's eyes slowly turned to amusement, and he chuckled under his breath. "Suit yourself, Chuck." He muttered, reaching into a different pocket. "Can't get mad at ya just for having Lyds best interest at heart." This time he drew out what looked like a hard candy, in a bright pink wrapper. A twist, a spin, and he popped it in his mouth with an irritated look. "Always has me carrying these damn things around for her anyways…" He muttered aloud, clearly to himself.
Edmond's irritation softened a little, seeing Beetlejuice's tolerance towards his little girl's odd whims. "She likes the lemon drops best." He confided, gesturing for the man, whatever, to take seat.
Beetlejuice did, about four feet in the air. It wasn't something he was used to, as Barbara and Adam had always gone out of their way to continue behaving as if they were still alive. That was a hang-up that this guy, clearly, didn't have. But it couldn't be denied, it set Edmond a little off his game.
The poltergeist of course, was not one to miss this, and watched the man with unveiled amusement. "You sure you're related to my Lyds, Chucky?" He challenged, lifting an eyebrow, "I mean, look at you. You look like you've seen a ghost." He paused, letting this small humor sink in, before he added, "I mean, you wouldn't be the first guy signing for a package that wasn't sent in your name…"
His tolerance of the poltergeist quickly waned, and Edmond considered the creature across from him like some particularly fascinating insect. "Your Lyds?" He echoed softly. "Don't forget for a second, that she was my Lydia first…"
Beetlejuice frowned at the serious tone, though this was probably all part of the act too. "Are we about to have 'the talk,' Chucky?" He asked matter-of-factly, as if in all seriousness. "Because, quite frankly, I know what I'm doing. And if I didn't before… Hell, we've been married a good five months now, you get my meaning?"
Any fondness he'd ever felt for the ghost died. In fact if looks could kill, Beetlejuice would easily have been dead again. And the damn fool looked like he was doing his best not to laugh…
"Damn!" The cry echoed through the house, and made both men stand up like they'd been pulled to their feet. Beetlejuice, if anything, looked more panicked than he did, suddenly all occasions for jokes gone. And in the next instant, he too was gone.
Edmond had to settle for hurrying towards her voice. "Lydia? Are you okay?"
"I'm… Beetlejuice!" It came close to another cry, then a groan. "Damn it, I didn't mean to yell… Dad, where are the bandages?"
He finally arrived at the bathroom, to the sight of Beetlejuice clutching Lydia's arm in both hands, a towel stained with bright red clamped firmly around it. He was muttering something about fucking cats… Lydia looked nothing so much as embarrassed. There was, he noted, no sign of the cat.
"How bad is it?" Edmond asked, barely aware that he was addressing the question to Beetlejuice.
"S' bad." The ghost muttered, continuing to apply pressure. "Got her right across…" He looked up, and his eyes for once, were sincerely serious. "She needs a doctor, old man."
--
The slash down her wrist took eleven stitches to close, and Beetlejuice hovered the whole time, looking daggers at anyone he thought might be adding to her pain. And there was a lot of disinfecting, it being cat's claws that had caused the wound, so it was in fact, very painful. Lydia did her best though, not to let him see that.
Finally the doctor, who hadn't overseen either the actual disinfecting or stitching, delegating both to an R.N., came into the room with his eyes fixed flatly on his charts. "Says here you were scratched by a cat…" He noted aloud, clear doubt in his voice, as if he thought personally that Lydia had done something stupid. "Right across the main artery of your left wrist… Well, let's have a look at that, shall we?"
Lydia knew right away that she didn't like this man. But she held out her arm obediently anyway, letting him unwrap it. Smears of crimson soaked the white gauze, and the bleeding hadn't really stopped yet, despite the application of medicines that were supposed to make it do just this.
Peering through his glasses, the doctor squinted at the wound, then nodded, looking almost disappointed. "Cat scratch, all right." He agreed, as if this had somehow been in doubt until now. "Just as well, attempted suicides are a lot more paperwork…" That however, seemed to be the extent of his concern, either way.
Beetlejuice wanted to say something, Lydia could see that, but first he was waiting for a clean bill of health. Then there was no telling what he'd do to the guy. "Now, you must be her father…" The doctor went on, turning to the ghost. Her father was, in fact, behind him, as yet unnoticed.
The poltergeist showed all his teeth, in something not quite a grin. "I'm her husband, buddy. Her old man's over there." His words seemed to surprise the doctor, who paused, gave him a disbelieving glance over, before turning his attention to her, then back to him.
"Are you serious?" He asked at last, in what was perhaps the most unprofessional, and dangerous, response he could have given. Beetlejuice's fingers twitched, and his grin grew. The air had a strange smell, like just before lightning hit…
"He's serious." Lydia interrupted, not wanting to be the one to explain lightning in a hospital room. "You got a problem with that?" He held up her left arm again, waving her ring finger by way of demonstration. She'd just about died laughing when they couldn't get it off her finger, when they'd washed down her hand… "Because I'm really not in the mood to hear it right now."
The doctor considered her, looked at his chart again, and cleared his throat smally. "How old are you exactly, Miss Deetz?" He prompted at last, still using 'Miss,' when they'd both just told him she was married.
Lydia frowned. Damn, she'd been hoping to get out of answering that question in front of Beetlejuice. "Seventeen next month." She muttered, somewhat under her breath.
This got Beetlejuice's attention, if not for the reason she'd feared. Rather, his eyebrows swept up in interest. "You weren't going to tell me you had a birthday coming up, babes?" He asked with a frown, as if this were some sort of disappointment on her part, when he'd never even bothered to ask her age.
"Eventually…" She said between her teeth, before giving her absolute dirtiest look to the one who'd begun this conversation. "You're just supposed to be here to tell me if I'm going to live. So? Should we start making funeral arrangements?"
She didn't notice her husband flinch, just slightly. Nor did she hear him whisper, "Not something to joke about, babes…"
The doctor, finally seeming to realize he was in a situation he didn't want to be in, cleared his throat again, and pointedly began looking around for her actual father. His next words were directed to Edmond, rather, she thought, as if the two of them simply didn't rate them. "Your daughter had a bit of a close call… She's a little anemic, but not enough to need a blood transfusion. Fortunately the bleeding was stopped quickly…"
He paused here, finally taking in the sight of the man he was talking to, and if anything, suddenly looked more uncomfortable than when he'd been addressing Beetlejuice. For reasons she didn't really know, it made Lydia smile, oddly proud.
"Yes…" The man went on, more slowly, as if he'd lost his place. "Well, she'll be weak for a few days, need plenty of rest, that sort of thing. Has to take care not to reopen the wound…" He was already heading out the door as he said this, clearly wanting nothing to do with any of them anymore. "And she can come back in ten days or so, to get the stitches removed." And like that, he was gone.
Beetlejuice, still with the slightly crazed expression fixed firmly on his lips, clearly made to follow him, and continue their little 'talk…' But Lydia's hand stopped him. He tensed under her touch, just for a second, like he was going to throw it off, before finally relaxing again, and looking down at her in gruff concern. "You okay, Lyds?"
"You stopped the bleeding back there, Beej." She said softly, then, before he could deny it, pressed on, saying, "Slowed it down anyway. I panicked, couldn't even think straight…" She shook her head. "I thought it was just a scratch."
He hesitated, watching her for a long moment. "Babes…" He murmured at last, his voice both rougher, and far more gentle. "I ain't losing you. Got it?"
Lydia nodded, smiling, afraid for one wild moment that her eyes were going to start tearing up. She looked at her father next, who was watching the two of them with an indefinable expression to his face, eyes dark with thought.
"I can't say I'm happy with you being married to Lydia," He interjected suddenly, as if this were something that had been pressing on his mind, "But god knows you make my daughter happy." He paused, then added matter-of-factly. "I'd rather I couldn't see why though. It'd be a hell of a lot easier to just hate you, then." As neither Beetlejuice nor Lydia seemed to have an answer for this, he rose to his feet, frowning at both. "I'm never going to like him, though." He added, to Lydia alone. "So don't ask me to."
A mad little giggle threatened to rise up in Lydia's throat, but she managed to just give her father a small smile, and nod. She'd known what he said all those months ago, about hating anyone who took her away from him equally, but it seemed now… A more final blessing had been given.
When her father left to deal with any remaining paperwork, Beetlejuice glanced down at her, a puzzled look on his features. "Your old man just admit he approves of me?" He asked, as if this were the strangest thing he'd come across in a long time. Lydia just laughed, finally. Her husband looked nothing so much as disgruntled. "Damn, he was fun to pick with, too…"
Getting to her feet, Lydia threw both arms around Beetlejuice, inadvertently getting blood all over his striped coat. She made a sound of distress when she saw that, but he just grinned at her, whatever humor he'd lost earlier that day, apparently restored. "No worries. I've gotten blood out of this thing plenty of times." He assured her, smiling away.
Unsure if he was joking or not, Lydia gave him a long look, and finally decided she probably didn't want to know. Setting her lips into a tolerant smirk, she rested her forehead against her husband's shoulder, and closed her eyes, feeling like now, she finally had a moment to herself, to take a deep breath, and settle her…
"Where is my DAUGHTER!"
--
Olivia had never been this panicked in her life, not when he'd tried to marry her, not when she'd found out she was going to have a baby, not even when she stood at the altar a second time, finally reciting her vows. Despite Edmond's attempts to calm her on the phone, only two things had really sunk into her mind. Lydia, and slashed wrist.
She was giving the doctor before her, who already looked like he was having a particularly bad day, a look that clearly made him wish he was anywhere else. She'd come through the halls like a force of nature, and now her voice was raised to a frenzied pitch, her heart an insane staccato that seemed to literally explode behind her eyes. "Lydia Deetz! Where is she?"
"Mom!" The familiar voice made Olivia spin, wild eyes taking in the sight of her daughter, blood still dripping down her arm, looking utterly astonished. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Olivia wasted no time, grabbing her daughter by both shoulders, and pulling her in for a desperately relieved hug, almost crushing the girl against her. From the small sound of pain she made, it wasn't exactly comfortable. Her mother quite frankly, couldn't give a damn. "What have you done to yourself?" She demanded, her voice softer now, but no less intense. "What did you…?"
And the next moment she was pushing her daughter away again, eyes flashing in fury. "Where is he?" She demanded, her voice practically dripping venom now. "This is his fault, I know it is… You!" Beetlejuice had chosen exactly the wrong moment to see what the hell was going on, and she advanced on him in a fury, fingers jabbing unafraidly at his chest. "This is your fault! I know it is! She was never like this before she met you!"
Caught off guard by the unexpected barrage, Beetlejuice actually let himself be driven back several steps by the obviously crazed woman, before suddenly seeming to tire of it. His features darkened in fury, and he caught both of the woman's hands, pinning them to her sides with frightening ease, and met her glare with one of his own.
"You think I'd lay a damn hand on that girl?" He snarled, so far past restrained that even Lydia stared at him in shock. "Shut the hell up, and find out what actually happened, before shooting that stupid mouth of yours off like an idiot, you miserable bitch!"
"Beetlejuice!" It was a gasp from Lydia, but even this didn't reach him, as he continued to glower at the woman in his grasp until she seemed to, literally, wilt under his hand. Then, more softly, "Beej…"
The sound of her familiar nickname for him finally reached through the clouds of anger fogging his eyes, but he didn't so much as look at her, simply dropping the woman in his grasp, and storming away. Olivia found herself staring at her hands, which shook. Her face was completely drained of blood. She'd never had the nerve to stand up to that creature before… And now, doubted she ever would again.
Lydia was there, looking up at her mother with an odd mingling of anger and gentleness to her eyes. "I knew you'd make a big deal out of this…" She muttered, looking her mother over, and deciding that any blood present was her own.
"But Lydia," Despite her best efforts, her mother's voice was now visibly strained, "You tried to kill yourself…"
"What?" Lydia frowned at her, then closed her eyes, and looked nothing so much as disappointed. "Not you too… Didn't dad tell you?" She looked up at her mother again, somewhat grimly. "I got torn up by a stray cat, mom. Why the hell do you think I'd try to kill myself?" A small pause, and then, as sincerely as anything she'd ever offered, "I'm happy."
Happy? Olivia looked at her daughter with sort of a numb emptiness in her gut, shaking her head, denying it. No, no the girl couldn't be happy… "He forced you to marry him." She whispered, her voice shaking. "I remember what that felt like, when he tried to do it to me…"
The look Lydia was giving her mother was torn between sympathy, and outright pity. "Mom, he didn't force me to do anything. I offered." Olivia blinked, certain she hadn't heard right. "Besides," And here her voice dropped, with just a trace of affection, "I love him, mom. Haven't you figured that out yet?"
Love? Olivia shook her head, unable to accept this, and turned her back on her daughter, drowning in guilt and denial. No, no, he'd brainwashed her… Done something! He had that kind of power… Didn't he? But then, if he did, why hadn't he done it to her?
"You're wrong," She whispered aloud, unwilling to accept it, "You can't love that… thing. He's, he's done something to you. Made you believe it. But it's not true. You can't, love someone you were forced to marry!"
It didn't make sense, the way the woman was denying this. Lydia just stared at her mother in confusion, before dropping her head, and running her fingers through her hair. Her mother was making a scene. Her mother always made a scene. "Why can't you just be happy for me?" She muttered, moving past the woman with a sense of defeat. "I'm going to go find Beej, and calm him down, before he blows something up…"
At that moment, it seemed like half the hospital rocked on its foundation. Olivia's heart clenched, never doubting for a moment who had caused it. But Lydia? Lydia just looked amused, muttered something under her breath, and headed down the hallways, sparing not another glance in her mother's direction.
And Olivia stood there, feeling drained, confused, and as if somewhere along the way, she was the only one who hadn't gotten a script about what was going on in her own family. And then of course, when she felt like she couldn't possibly sink any lower, she realized that her ex husband was standing there, right next to her, looking at her with a gaze that had always cut her to the quick.
"You can't love someone you were forced to marry…" He echoed aloud, far more softly than she'd said the words. "Why does it sound like you speak from experience, Liv?" There was no answer to that, not one she was willing to face just yet anyway. So she just pressed her lips together, shook her head, and said nothing. At long last, Edmond spoke again, his voice lined with traces of grief. "Well, I never had that problem, so I wouldn't know." And with that, he too left her there.
The words hurt, more than she cared to admit. Even after he was gone. But then, he'd always loved her, hadn't he? She was the one who'd never loved him…
--
