A Dog's Chance
by
Owlcroft

A/N: This takes place in the late fall of their betrothal.

Lydia gasped then Called Beetlejuice immediately. When he arrived, he was surprised to see her kneeling by a dog lying alongside the road to the Deetz house; the dog was bloody, filthy, and barely breathing.

"Beej," she said urgently. "It's Petey, our neighbor's dog. I think he was hit by a car. Do something!"

Beetlejuice floated around behind the injured animal, then he also knelt beside it. "Lyds," he said quietly, "I'm not sure I can."

She looked at him in disbelief then asked, "What? Why not? Surely, your juice can fix . . . anything. Please, Beej. Just try."

Beetlejuice sighed, then gently touched the dog's head with his left hand. A faint glow appeared and the dog's breathing became slightly less labored. "I took the pain away," he told Lydia. "But the rest, babes, listen . . . living creatures, especially from this world . . . I'm not sure I can fix it."

Lydia merely looked at him, with hope and misery combined.

He sighed again, then closed his eyes and dropped his head. Slowly, his right hand extended over the dog's rib cage and hovered there, then gradually lowered to touch the bloody fur. Another faint glow appeared and Beetlejuice began to breathe deeper and slower. Both he and the dog were motionless, except for breathing, for a little more than a minute, then Beetlejuice lifted his head and looked at his friend, hand still on Petey's ribs. "He's in really bad shape. Lyds, I don't think I'm supposed to do stuff like this . . ." He blinked twice, then said hesitantly, "But I guess . . . you want me to try?"

"Please, Beej. Do what you can." Lydia reached over the dog to touch her darling's face and stretched to give him a quick kiss.

Beetlejuice kissed her back and looked at her silently for a moment. Then he cleared his throat, flexed his neck, inhaled deeply, and went still again. For several minutes, Lydia watched him kneel, immobile, both hands on the bloody animal, which now breathed regularly and was as motionless as his benefactor.

The golden glow grew brighter and Beetlejuice's breathing changed and became quicker and shallower. Petey's hind legs twitched and relaxed again. Suddenly, he wagged his tail, once, then again, then constantly and his head lifted to gaze at his surroundings. When Beetlejuice finally drew his hands back just a fraction, Petey leapt to his feet, licked his new friend's face twice, then darted off and was quickly out of sight.

Lydia smiled at Beetlejuice, still kneeling, eyes closed, and told him, "I knew you could do it. Thank you, Beej, so much." She held out her hand to him but he didn't move. Even his hands were still suspended in air where he'd been touching Petey. "Beej?" she asked. "You okay?"

Beetlejuice finally opened his eyes, but they didn't seem to focus properly. He blinked a few times, then murmured, "I don't think . . . I was supposed to do that," and fell over onto his side.

"Beej!" cried Lydia and crawled to him, raising his head. "Beej, what is it? What's wrong?" But there was no answer from the deeply unconscious ghost. There was no one else in sight, no help available, so Lydia did the only thing she could think of – she said Beetlejuice's name three times to take them both to the Neitherworld, where she could get help for him.

Unfortunately, they both appeared in the middle of the road near Beetlejuice's mailbox. Lydia quickly looked around for someone, anyone, then shouted for help. No one responded so, reluctantly, she left Beetlejuice lying in the road and ran as fast as she could to the closest residence, a cow skull-shaped house. There, she pounded on the door, which set Poopsie barking, then the Monster Across the Street opened the door.

"Quick!" Lydia panted. "Help me!" and ran back to Beetlejuice, still collapsed on his side, knees slightly bent, and his arms limp in front of him.

"What in tarhooties is wrong with that dadburned varmint?" demanded Monster as he followed her.

"Oh, quick, please," Lydia was feeling Beetlejuice's face, holding his hand, saying his name. "He's out cold. Please, Monster, take him into the Roadhouse. I've got to get a doctor for him!"

"Miss Lydia, you know I'd be pleased to oblige you, but – "

Lydia shot a fiery glance at him. "Pick him up and take him into the Roadhouse! Now!"

"Yes, ma'am," said an astonished Monster and did as she'd commanded.

Lydia ran ahead of him, calling for Ginger or Jacques, but neither of them answered. She scowled at the uncomfortable wooden couch, then turned to direct Monster to carry his burden upstairs to Beetlejuice's room. There, she had Monster gently deposit the unconscious ghost in his coffin and tried again to revive him. With no result.

"Um, Miss Lydia, I appreciate you're in a peck of trouble here, but . . . ah, I have to get back – "

"Oh, yes, I know!" she retorted. "Now you need to wash your hands because you touched . . . this varmint!" Lydia took a deep breath and held it for an instant. "Monster. Thank you. For helping me. But I want you to know Beej is like this because he saved a dog's life. Because I asked him to. He didn't want to, thought it was beyond him, but he did it. For me." She caressed Beetlejuice's cheek and bit her lip. "This varmint did that. So now, go wash your hands and . . . thank you again. For helping." She set about trying to remove BJ's jacket.

Monster shuffled his feet a little, then helped her get Beetlejuice's jacket off and said diffidently, "I do have some grits cooking on the stovetop, Miss Lydia. But I can turn 'em off and come back to help if you want."

She put a hand to her forehead. "No. Thanks, Monster. But if you can find Jacques or Ginger maybe they would know what doctor to call."

"Yes'm." Monster slowly backed away from the coffin. "You let me know, now, if'n there's anything else . . ." He left the room slowly, looking back at the 'varmint'.

Lydia had gotten Beetlejuice's tie off, and was removing his beetle boots, talking to him as if he could hear her. "You were wonderful, Beej. Thank you so much. Petey was so grateful to you. Did you feel him lick your face? You did such an amazing thing. You'll be more comfortable with your boots off now. I think I'll leave your socks on, though, or your feet might get cold. Would you want me to take off your pants? Or maybe just undo the belt?"

There was no response from Beetlejuice.

"I'll just undo your belt, maybe pull your shirt out of your pants. Is that better? I wish I could get you into your pajamas. Beej, please wake up. Please say something. Maybe I'll pull the blanket over you, or would that be too warm? Oh, why doesn't somebody come tell me what doctor to call!" Lydia forced herself to stop for a moment, closed her eyes and shook herself, then resumed talking to Beetlejuice. "Maybe I will just pull your pants off. Wouldn't you be more comfortable? I bet you're wearing those beetle boxers you like so much. Beej, you have to be all right! There, your shirt's unbuttoned, now the pants come off."

"Umm, babes?" A slow, fuzzy voice stopped her hands on his zipper. "Do I have to defend my virtue from you?"

ooooo

An hour later, Beetlejuice was nearly back to normal, or what passed for normal with Beetlejuice.

"I didn't know what had happened to you, Beej, but it scared me!" Lydia sat next to him on the couch downstairs, holding his hand tightly. "I suppose I should have known something was wrong when Petey licked you and you didn't react to getting wet."

Beetlejuice grunted. "Don't even remember that. The dog's okay, though? I mean, could you be sure everything was working the way it should?"

"He was wagging his tail and then ran for home at full speed, so I assume you fixed everything just fine." Lydia started to say something else, then paused. She caressed the hand she was holding, then asked, "Do you remember what you said? That maybe you weren't supposed to save him?"

He shook his head. "Don't remember a thing. I think . . . I remember deciding Petey was going to make it, then . . . nothing until you, uh . . . made advances to me in my coffin." He managed a grin at that.

"Next time I decide to take your pants off, they're coming off!" Lydia snuggled a little closer to him.

Beetlejuice grinned even wider. "You and what army?" Then the grin faded and he reverted to what she'd asked him. "Did I tell you I wasn't supposed to do all that?"

She nodded. "You said something like 'I wasn't supposed to do that' and then keeled over. You've never done that before and I didn't know what to do so I brought us here and got Monster to carry you upstairs."

"Oh, I bet he liked that." Beetlejuice gave her a quizzical look. "What did you threaten him with?"

Lydia waved her free hand airily. "Oh, I just ordered him to and he did it. Actually," she frowned wryly, "I probably owe him an apology. After we got you up there, I told him off for calling you a varmint."

"You did, really? Babes," he laughed a little, slightly creaky, but a real cackle, "I wish I'd heard that."

She shook her head. "I was so rude. But it made me angry that he didn't want to help you after what you'd done for Petey." Lydia's grip on his hand tightened momentarily. "But, Beej, what did you mean, you weren't supposed to do that? I thought maybe you'd overextended your juice, overdid it or something."

Beetlejuice turned serious at once, looking at her hand in his. "Nah, my juice is fine. I did use just about all of it, though." He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it, then turned to face her. He sighed then before telling her, "That dog was just about gone, Lyds. He was so close to death that it was almost like I had to . . . make him alive again. That's what I meant. I'm not supposed to do stuff like that. Nobody is."

Lydia cocked her head and looked at Beetlejuice closely. "When you say it's wrong, and that you're not supposed to do anything like that, it sounds like maybe . . . was it dangerous? For you, I mean?"

Beetlejuice shrugged a little, half-closed his eyes, chewed on his lip for a moment. "Maybe." Then he admitted, "Yeah, it was."

"But," she put a hand to her forehead, "Beej, I don't understand. How dangerous? What could've happened to you? You're already . . . I mean, you can't . . . die, can you?"

"Babes, you remember S.N.O.T.R.A.G., right?" When she nodded, he went on. "I could have . . . dissipated, ceased to exist. You saved me, though. And ghosts can fade." He wore a thoughtful look. "I knew one that just . . . decided to . . . go, to quit. He didn't have anything to stick around for so he gave up and . . . faded away."

"So today I asked you to do something so dangerous that you could have . . . that I might have lost you?" She looked and sounded upset now. "And it was something nobody should do, that everybody thinks is wrong?"

"Look, Lyds, let me tell you some stuff." He leaned back, pulling her with him. "You've heard of necromancers, right? You know what that means, what they try to do?" When she nodded, he went on. "Well, a while ago, there were a few looney magicians here who wanted to bring people back from wherever, or whatever. It wasn't a real popular idea, but they were set on it and one of them finally did figure it out. But . . . he didn't come back. The rest of them realized that you have to get too close to the border, the line between here and there, that you have to be right on it to get someone back, so they gave up the whole thing. That's the reason we all know it's dangerous. But we also know . . . well, most of us know there are some things you're just not supposed to do, even if you think you can. They're just . . . wrong. They feel wrong when you even think about them. Like necromancy." Beetlejuice paused for a moment, frowning. "Or when you hurt your foot. Remember I didn't do anything about that, even to take your pain away. I knew I shouldn't . . . I just knew it without thinking about it . . . even though I wanted more than anything to help you. Remember?"

Lydia nodded slowly, looking somber. Then she gave him a small smile. "Yeah, and you billed me for all your so-called help."

"Hey, c'mon. It was a joke! Then you chased me all over with your crutch. Yeesh. Some people just don't recognize humor when they see it." He pulled her a little closer. "But I forgive you," he added sanctimoniously, then grunted from an elbow to his ribs. "Anyway, there are just some things that . . . I don't know, maybe it's an instinct or something. There's just stuff I can't do, or shouldn't do, especially if it involves living things. I don't know that I can explain it any better than that, Lyds. It's sort of like you know you have limits and if you cross them, it's . . . it's like you've . . . broken something inside you. Or lost something. Something you'll never get back." He looked at her doubtfully. "Does any of that make sense to you?"

Lydia nodded slowly. "I think so." She put her free hand on his arm. "But, Beej, you went right up to that border for Petey, didn't you, because he was so close to dying?"

Beetlejuice nodded, reluctantly. "I knew he was close before I started, real close."

"And that's why you were unconscious for so long? Because you went too close to that line?"

"Might have been kickback from all the stress and effort. And I did just about use up my juice. But I think it was a . . . kind of a reminder, a sign." He looked down at the hand he held in his own. "To warn me not to get that close to the border. If I'd gotten any closer, maybe . . . I'd have fallen over it. Or gotten pulled over it. But I didn't. Everything worked out okay." He smiled at her gently.

"But you tried to tell me you thought it might be wrong. And you knew that it was dangerous for you. So . . . if you knew that, why did you do it?" Lydia was troubled and it showed in her expression.

"Because I will do anything for you, babes."