If the world was the way I wanted it, not only would the idea for Beetlejuice be mine, but so would Beetlejuice himself. That is, alas, not the case. I don't own any of it, not Lyds, not Beej, not the Neitherworld... Basically not anything in these pages that can otherwise be accredited to Tim Burton, and/or the Geffen Film Company. Now, there is some stuff in here that is mine... But you? You're reading this for Beetlejuice... And Lydia. And them together. Am I right?
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There, see, that one didn't take half the time to put up. Granted, I'm not sure still that it flows with the story right, but it did flow from like fingers like, um, water. That makes no sense, but well, I couldn't say blood, could I? I guess I'm not responding to reviews, sorry, I don't know what's come over me. I hope I'll get to it. Meanwhile, they still mean a ton to me, so I guess I'm a hypocrite, especially since, at the moment, I'm not reading anyone else's work either. I'm still working through my slump, I guess... Hope this whets your appetite, and keeps your teeth sharp... Eh, heh heh, so to speak.
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Their first real mistake wasn't in crashing in her bed for the night, parents be damned, or even engaging in a little frisky play beforehand. It wasn't in the way she'd lain in his arms for well over an hour after he'd fallen asleep, using small swayings of her new powers to draw the smooth black marker in ever more intricate whorls across her ceiling, ever closer to completing her complex 'etching.' Not quite sure herself if it was more than ink on white paint, or even something she'd come to regret- Her innate powers being so much less predictable than her newer, ghostly powers-
It was in letting her guard down, even for an instant. Letting herself think that because things had been turning her way this far, they were just going to get easier from here. And most of all, it was in forgetting that there was more to her current family drama than just earning everyone's approval.
She was just standing at the mirror to the bathroom, still cast over with steam from her early morning shower, when the rest of the house should have still been quiet. Beetlejuice, undoubtedly still snoring away beneath her thick comforter, ass bare to the world, if anyone was naïve enough at this point to come in without knocking, his guttural, newfound skill of snoring rumbling bizarrely to anyone within earshot.
The Maitlands as well, not yet come down from the attic. Her mother yet to come out of her room. Her father- Well, she tried not to wonder where he was at the moment. It had been almost a week since she'd seen him now. And everything else in her life was going too well, to let herself dwell on what might still be, admittedly, a bit up in the air.
But as Beetlejuice had muttered to her once, in a moment of annoyance… 'Goddamn breathers never can leave well enough alone, babes.'
The sound of a slamming door echoed through the house, come, not from any of the bedrooms, but the front room, and accompanied by a roar of frustration, defiance, and, to her ear, the seeking of a sympathetic ear. "God damn him!" Her mother cried, even as Lydia yanked herself out of the bathroom, moving quickly to the banister, and looking down in puzzlement, to see her mother, not only in this state, but anywhere but her own room, not ten minutes after dawn.
A mirrored shout, and a grumble, came from Lydia's room, as Beetlejuice roused himself long enough to curse roundly at the source of the disturbance, not really even pulling himself fully to consciousness before falling back to sleep.
With no help coming from that quarter, Lydia approached the stairs cautiously, never sure what to expect from the older woman, even as both Barbara and Adam swung past her, with quick glances to Lydia herself, to make certain that whatever was wrong wasn't affecting the both of them.
"Olivia!" Adam, bristling oddly, tugging at his shirtsleeves, and casting glances here and there through his light glasses, before settling on her again. "You were gone all night! We've been worried sick!"
Gone all night? This was news to Lydia, who took the stairs slowly, trying not to draw attention to herself, or away from whatever was happening, as she turned this idea over in her mind. Where the hell had her mother been, if she wasn't here? She'd just assumed the woman had gone to bed early… She'd been doing that ever since Lydia's marriage to Beetlejuice, and even more since her father had left.
A quick glance towards her own doorway told her that Beetlejuice, for better or for worse, was staying entrenched firmly in the thick covers, oblivious to whatever went on below. Probably for the better… She was the distinct sense that, whatever was going on, didn't need his hand in it.
She'd missed what the three 'adults' were saying while she was distracted, but as she turned back, she was greeted by the sight of her mother held firmly in Barbara's arm, cradled against the ghost woman's equally small frame, as if she expected the woman to easily be strong enough for both of them, whatever was wrong. Adam was quiet, eyes downcast in thought or anger, a curved finger held tightly to his lips, as if to prevent himself from saying what he wanted to say, and knew damn well he shouldn't.
Time to throw her own lot in. "What's going on?" Lydia broached slowly, quickly drawing the eyes of both Adam and Barb, though her mother, par for the course, was too drowned in her own self-pity to bother paying her daughter so much as a glance. "Where was mom?"
Barbara, without a word, looked to Adam, clearly leaving him to field this question, before turning back to her mother, and, with a gentle urging, moved her towards the kitchen, and promises of sweet teas. Her foster father clearly found himself to be in anything but an enviable position, watching the two women go, and then, even when they were gone, pointedly not quite looking back at Lydia. "I think you should sit down." He suggested tersely, following his own advice as he gave it, and seeking the large, tweed loveseat to claim for himself.
Lydia gave him a measured look, turned her eyes towards where her mother and foster mother had gone, and groaned inwardly. So, what, her dad, right? God damn it. Everyone there knew they were going to get a divorce, she didn't see what was taking the two of them so long to figure it out. That wasn't to say she didn't hate the idea, but Lydia was neither a fool, nor willfully blinding herself to the fact that things were just not going to go back to the way they'd been before. That really only left the one option then… And the sooner they got on with it, the sooner they could pull their feet up under them again, and figure out what normal was supposed to be now.
Running her fingers through her unkempt black strands, Lydia pressed her lips into a thin line, and resigned herself to playing the part of a clueless, sympathetic ear, when it was obvious what was going on.
That was why the first words Adam offered, surprised her. "Lydia… Your mother lost her job."
At first the words wouldn't seem to register, since her mom losing her job was pretty much the last thing that had been written on her long list of what could go wrong in their lives now… She knew the economy wasn't that strong these days, but she'd figured the worst of it for pretty much passing over their little town. Her mind quickly starting spinning though, trying to figure out what this meant. A father no longer living with them. Two parents unable to leave the house. Her mom, no longer working.
Shit.
But that didn't explain where her mother had been the night before. "So what, she was out drinking?" Lydia muttered bitterly, not expecting her suggestion to be taken seriously, much less confirmed by the way Adam, once again, quickly averted his eyes.
And that, her mother drinking, that was almost laughable. She knew damn well that the woman couldn't hold her liquor worth shit… She could get soused on a goddamn strawberry daiquiri! The mere fact that she'd been out all night drinking, and hadn't come home with alcohol poisoning, or dead for that matter, was only a little less than astonishing in and of itself!
For that matter, it really didn't explain who her mother had been damning when she'd barged into the house either. Of course, that could just be Beetlejuice, for the hell of it, for all she knew…
"Okay," Lydia agreed, having taken a full minute to process this, before turning to the next matter at hand. "And…?"
Adam blinked, and turned to her with an incredulous, disapproving look to his stern features. "That's nothing to be dismissed, young lady!" He informed her in his scolding, fatherly way, forgetting for one brief moment that she wasn't just some kid who didn't realize the full impact of what he was saying. "You know that Barbara and I can't work, and with your father gone, your mother was the only one supporting this family…"
Admittedly, he lost a little of his steam as his gradually took in the tolerant, annoyed look on Lydia's features, telling him in no uncertain terms that, no, he was the one missing something here. "Okay." She said again, with just slightly pressed patience, "Very bad. We're screwed. I get it. Now who the hell was she yelling about when she stormed in here two minutes ago?"
For a moment Adam didn't answer- to be perfectly honest, he didn't really look like he was quite sure what she was talking about. Either he'd missed that little bit of the show, or in his worry over the rest of it, and relief on seeing Olivia safe, he'd simply forgotten about it. "Oh." He said at last, intelligently, before pulling himself to his feet, with an upsweep of his eyebrows, in thought. "I suppose we should go find out then."
"Yeah, okay…" Lydia let him lead the way, ever willing to let someone else provide a buffer between her and her mother, and cast one last lingering glance towards the stairwell before following. She'd probably regret not getting her husband to join in on this little family affair… God only knew he made pretty much anything a little more bearable, but she had a feeling that right now, adding Beetlejuice to the equation was the last thing her mother needed.
She fully expected a storm when she entered the kitchen, but to her surprise, her mother was already calmer, dabbing at her eyes with a folded up paper towel, grim, but no longer hysterical. Barbara, on the other hand, looked positively gray.
"And what'd we miss in here?" Lydia muttered to herself, carefully positioning herself at the far corner of the kitchen, with Adam still well between her and her mother, should the woman suddenly decide to go ballistic. She didn't actually say anything to her parents though, she figured that for now, the best plan of attack was simply to watch, and wait.
"Barbara?" The ghost woman's husband approached her quickly, putting out an arm to support her, and effectively ruining Lydia's plan of keeping him between her and her mother. "What's wrong, honey?"
Lydia's foster mother made a small, useless gesture with her hand, before accepting her husband's embrace, leaning into his arms, and giving one, solid shudder. "Damn him, Adam." Was all she said, an eerie echoing of her mother's earlier sentiment.
"Who is it, Barb?" Adam pressed, squeezing her, protectively, before even knowing what it was he was supposed to protect her from. "What happened?"
It wasn't Barbara however, who answered. "It's Edmond." Olivia informed them with a tight grimace, almost flippantly now, as her mood shifted, again, suggesting that whatever she'd drunk the night before, it hadn't actually completely worn off yet. "He wants a divorce. He's leaving. Off to god knows where." A small, pained hiccup, from crying or drink, Lydia couldn't tell, and didn't really care, over the massive sinking in her own chest. "What does he care if I'm out of work? He asked if we needed money… I told him where he could put his damn money!"
And that was her mother for her, who cared if their bills went unpaid after all, as long as her pride was intact, and she got in the last word. Lydia felt a sudden need to be elsewhere, somewhere tucked into her own husband's side for example, listening to his gravelly breathing, and thinking of nothing at all… But this was probably when she was supposed to be supportive of her family, and stand with them, and try to muddle through this whole mess together…
Well, fuck that. She'd been through enough in her young life to know that there was certainly a time and a place to still act her age, and for god's sake, she was only seventeen… No way in hell she was going to stand there and take sides between her mother and father, not even knowing what happened. At the moment, as sick as she was over Olivia's threat that her father was leaving… A big part of her would much rather blame the older woman. Hell, most of the time she didn't even like her mother…
Drawing her hand with a brief, frustrated gesture across her forehead, Lydia took the better part of discretion, and retreated. It felt a little bit like sleepwalking as she moved through her own house, a place she'd lived since the day she was born, somehow now both distant and alien from her. Like, everything here was wrong now. She didn't want to be here anymore.
She didn't remember ascending the stairs, but a moment or an eternity later, she stood in her doorway, looking at the sleeping lump of her husband on the bed. Closing the door, silently, she moved barefoot across the old shag carpeting, and settled herself slowly onto the mattress beside him. Ever gently, ever quietly, she laid her small frame down, tucked amongst the rumpled sheets, and wriggled back carefully, pulling his arms around herself, until she was firmly in the poltergeist's strong embrace.
And then she just lay there for a while, blinking back tears, ignoring the world beyond the strong half-dead man's reach. Sometimes, with everything that had happened, especially in the past few months, it was hard to remember that she really was still just a kid…
But for god's sake, she was just a kid…
It was only the soft sounds of her crying, where the noise this far had failed, that finally woke Beetlejuice up. He of course, had no clue what was wrong, only that his babes was, for reasons unknown, currently falling apart quietly in his embrace. He peered at her through one eye, briefly considered pretending he was still asleep, and letting her cry herself out… Then growled under his breath sleepily, rose on one arm a little, and peered down at her with a frown. "Well, what the fuck, babes?"
This was, apparently, exactly the wrong reaction, because at his words, Lydia moaned, turned into his naked chest, and started sobbing full out, with small, heartbreaking little moans that made his skin crawl, and left him feeling pretty much like someone was currently grinding his guts beneath their heel. "Oh, hell…" He grabbed her against him more firmly, tucking his chin into her warm, tousled hair, and wondered what the hell he'd missed this time. "Can't a guy even fucking sleep without…?"
He trailed off here, suddenly deciding that if the girl was already bawling, he didn't want to give her the impression that he was pissed off at her or something too. "Come on, Lyds…" His words dropped to a murmur, and he gave her arm a little, reassuring squeeze, doing his painful best to offer her a grin. "You're killing me here! You know I can't stand seeing a chick cry…"
Lydia hiccupped, wiped her eyes on absently on his forearm, and wiped her nose on the sheets, offering a little levity into the situation, even if it was only for a second. Shit if she couldn't look cute with smeared mascara, now all down his arm, and pouty lips, and big, watery eyes. "They're all fucking assholes…" She muttered, before diving back into his chest, now no longer crying uncontrollably… Though somehow, her quiet, beaten stillness was even worse.
So it was pretty much like he had figured, and the in-laws had fucked up again. Goddamn breathing idiots. Making his babes cry. Couldn't be her friends, her just patching things up with them, so definitely the in-laws. Probably not the Maitlands either. They at least seemed to have some kind of clue where the girl was concerned. And that old man of hers wasn't really around enough to be causing trouble… Was that it?
Nah. He'd lay dollars to dimes it was the bitch. Again. "You know, I really don't like that old lady of yours, Lyds." He informed her with a mutter, clearly annoyed.
Lydia made a small, noncommittal sound. "I'm not so fond of her right now myself, Beej." She mumbled under her breath, drawing back a moment later with a sigh, and drawing away the long inky strands from her tear-sticky face. "How the fuck is it you're the normal one in my life, Beetlejuice?"
"Hey, oh, hold on…" He frowned, and pointed at her nose with mock sternness. "No using the 'n' word around me, kiddo. 'Cause I'll tell you what I fucking ain't, and that's normal!"
As usual, his little scheme to get under the girl's skin worked- in a good way. She giggled, and he grinned in relief, laying back again, wondering if it would really be that easy. Nah, 'course not. He still had to fuck that broad up for making his babes cry…
The girl moved up a little, until she half lay across his chest, kissing the skin there lightly, and sending little chills from the contact up and down the poltergeist's spine. Hell, she had no idea how she affected him, did she…? "So how come, then," She asked softly, her voice just a little, affectionate whisper, "You're the only one who makes sense to me?"
He turned this over in his head, but really, he already knew what she wanted to hear… And hell, it was true enough, wasn't it? "'Cause you ain't normal either, Lyds." He informed her gruffly, giving her side a little pinch, and making her, against all odds, giggle. Encouraged, he went on, gathering strength now. "Hell, you think I'd be hanging around this long with a chick that was normal? Hell no! Normal's fucking boring! You were never nor-!"
At this point he had to cut off, because she was kissing him soundly… And as usual, the poltergeist found no reason to complain under her tender ministrations.
When the kiss ended though, he proved he was not done, lifting one eyebrow, looking at her pointedly, and adding, in no uncertain terms, "And what? You think a normal broad could even begin to kiss like that? 'Cause I gotta tell you babes… You give me a chance, and I'll tell you a few other things that a normal broad can't do half as well as you do…"
She blushed, which was a rare and wonderful treat in itself, and he savored the gentle spread of warm colors across her cheeks. His babes, who was never shy around him, certainly, showing him that his latest comment had touched her even more closely than usual.
"No one else gets me but you…" She murmured, rather enigmatically, moving a little further over his chest, sliding her fingers across his cool, living flesh, and sighing as his answering touch caressed her, so gently, across the bare place her shirt didn't cover, at the base of her spine. "Beetlejuice…"
"Lydia…!" The door to their bedroom chose that moment to swing open, for once without benefit of knocking, and so her foster father was treated to the sight of them quite snug in each other's company, something he clearly did not expect. The blood would have drained from his face, if he had any. And then, to make matters worse, his wife appeared behind him only a second later, clearly just as surprised as he was.
The girl just sort of sat there, her husband's hand halfway up her shirt, herself halfway draped over his rather obviously bare body… While he just sort of tipped his head backwards to take in the sight of the two of them, grunted in annoyance as his wheels spun quickly, well aware that this was the last thing his babes wanted her folks walking in on, and somehow, still, all he managed was a gruff, "Can't you see we're fucking busy here?"
Adam's lips thinned, so much that they almost vanished, his eyes pointedly averting. "This is hardly the time or place…" He muttered, a bit hoarsely, before shaking his head, taking Barbara pointedly by the arm, and pulling her away from the door… Leaving it, rather inconveniently, open.
For about an instant, Lydia just stared, finally making a little sound of outrage, and pulling from her husband's grasp, tugging her shirt back into place even as she moved across the room with long, angry strides. "I don't know what you think you walked in on…!" She roared, largely after the Maitland man, as she quickly left Beetlejuice behind.
"I think I know what we walked in on!" Adam declared back, just as furiously, as if her seeking comfort in Beetlejuice's embrace were somehow unforgivable, given the circumstances. "Your mother just lost her job, your father just left, god only knows what's going to happen now, and you're in there with him…!"
"He was making me feel better!" Lydia screamed, finally reaching the end of her rope, and just standing in place, curling her toes into the hard wood, hands clenched into fists, just desperately angry.
"We could see that!" Adam yelled right back, not turning around to face her, as he and Barbara just kept right on going. Just unable to cope with the image now burned behind his eyes, of Lydia, and… him. "I don't want to talk about it!" So much for starting to seem normal… Talk about denial! No way that could seem normal to anybody!
"Hell buddy…" Beetlejuice chose that moment to step directly from the wall before him, snagging him, hard, by the arm. "Babes wants to talk about it, you're gonna talk about it fucking now…" He was tired of all the bullshit, them treating Lydia bad because, damn it, she decided to give a shit about him. And he was about fed up with it.
"Beetlejuice!" Adam shouted, Adam who almost never raised his voice, clearly intending to make the poltergeist fall back under the long-held threat of his name…
But Beetlejuice just grinned, somehow a bit more dangerously than usual, like his already crooked teeth had somehow become even sharper and more menacing, and his eyes... "That's right, buddy," He hissed, the sound a sort of guttural one in his throat, "Baaad fucking time to forget it."
The standoff continued about thirty seconds more, Adam Maitland somehow, facing off with the menace that had existed right under his nose for so long unseen, wilting a little, forced to confront him face to face. "That's real good," Beetlejuice growled finally, releasing his arm with one final, violent yank, "You're getting a good look at me now. So stop fucking trying to pretend that none of this happened… 'Cause no matter what kind of shit you pull, I ain't going nowhere without my wife!"
Wife. The word seemed to affect the man like a physical blow, when just the day before, he'd been trying so hard to play nice. As if, for the life of him, he'd been trying desperately to avoid that one, inevitable truth. Lydia was married to him. With everything that entailed… This wasn't just a phase he had to put up with until she grew out of it. This was forever.
"Oh my god." Barbara said it before he did, just sort of collapsing in a slow motion kind of way against the wall. Despite all appearances, they hadn't come to peace with it. And from the way that Adam just stood there, eyes slightly glazed, jaw muscles twitching furiously, it wasn't something either one of them were half as ready to accept as they'd thought they were.
And Lydia? She stood there watching the whole time, a mad little half smile on her face, blinking back tears, before she gave a deep, massive sigh, and turned away from both, walking pointedly back to her room. She'd thought it was getting better. She'd thought it was almost fixed. But apparently she was just as much in denial as the Maitlands were. What next, Bertha, and Pru, again?
An unstable little laugh fell from her lips, and she cast a wild glance around her room, back in its familiar grasp again, and found herself making a face of disgust. What was she thinking? How had she ever thought she could belong here, much less now, with a half dead husband and… whatever it was she was now?
Her gaze fell on the spider webbed mirror, and for a moment, softened, at that brief memory of her husband's window into her world for so long, until he destroyed it, and now, didn't need it any more.
"Damn it." Just a whisper, a breath, a sound of defeat. "I don't need any of them."
Beetlejuice, coming up behind her, heard the little half hearted vow, but figured it was probably best to pretend he didn't, in case she wanted to take it back later. "I'm sick of these goddamn losers," He said to her loudly instead, giving her warning as he moved up behind her, taking her into a firm, unyielding embrace… He had no intentions of letting go just then… "Let's get the hell out of here, babes."
Lifting her head, Lydia took in the reassuring sight of her husband's protective anger over her, closed her eyes, and managed a slightly more genuine smile. "God, yes…" She whispered, and then, before he could pull them through, decided that she might as well show him her new trick now… "Home, home, home…"
And they dropped briefly, clearly surprising the man, whose grip tightened on her quickly, as he took in their new surroundings… Shadowed pink and black spun sugar crystals, violet ribbons of light, and an endless sky of sparks, just out of reach… This was her juice, he realized with a little start, tightening his grip on her again, completely hers. It tasted like cherry brandy, and fresh rain…
Home… She whispered again, somehow in his mind and her own, though this time it wasn't a command, just a silent pleading for something that felt right, and the way it was supposed to. Please god, home?
And then they landed, lightly as a feather as he caught her weight, and set her down gently, casting a look around the savage features of the room they'd appeared in, at her desperate plea to go home… And with a flick of his smallest finger, started a roaring fire in the fireplace, making the girl jerk her head up sharply, and consider the flames in surprise, before lifting her head to consider Beetlejuice standing just over her, cast in the shadow and dancing light.
"Well, where the hell did you expect us to end up?" He asked gruffly, his throat oddly thick as he managed a half assed smile at the girl, who just turned in his arms, and lay her head against his chest, suddenly, oddly content with this.
"Home, huh?" She whispered softly, her breath still a bit shaky. "Okay. Yeah. I can live with that…"
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