Disclaimer: I don't own Until Dawn.

A/N: Hey guys. xD Finally got back to working on this story, after a super long time – major apologies for the delay. :( If anyone's still reading, I hope you enjoy. (Also, thanks to BigCatChuck19 for the gentle nudging to work on my UD fic again - check out their stories too guys! Their own ghost!Beth AU helped kickstart my creative processes again. xD)

An Inextinguishable Light

Chapter Three: My Words Fall on Deaf Ears

It took Beth an embarrassingly long time to work out what Josh was up to.

She spent several weeks shadowing her brother, trailing after him all over the lodge and its grounds, keeping up a steady stream of mocking commentary and insulting remarks about everything from his appearance to his general intelligence. "What the fuck are you doing here, Josh? What's with the tape measures and the wiring and shit? If you're trying to renovate this place, you're doing a fucking awful job. Let me guess, Dad's selling the lodge? You'd make a mint flogging it as a haunted house, by the way, it wouldn't even be bullshit –"

(She's torn between absolute terror for his life, and overwhelming happiness at seeing him again, even if he can't see her, and naturally this clash of emotions manifests outwardly as heavy sarcasm – because that was her default response to most things when she was alive and she's not about to change now.)

She asked Jack, once, hesitantly, if it was possible to set up the lodge like the sanatorium, with the runes that allowed her to become visible and audible. Something like sympathy had flickered briefly over Jack's face, before he shook his grizzled head. "Afraid not. It has to be a place I have a strong connection with for it to work, and preferably somewhere with a decent amount of spiritual energy too."

"Spiritual energy? You mean like you meditate here and shit?" Beth asked, trying to distract herself from the crushing disappointment. She was pretty sure she knew what he was actually talking about; the sanatorium buzzed and crackled like a static charge to her senses, oddly vibrant in a way that contrasted completely with its physically ruined state.

The hunter had barked a mirthless laugh. "Ha! No, I mean people have lived – and more importantly died – in this building for years on end. That sort of thing tends to leave an impression."

"Huh." Beth frowned. "I wonder why I haven't seen any other ghosts around then."

"Probably because human bodies aren't the only things the wendigos consume," Jack replied and Beth's eyes widened as she abruptly remembered the way the wendigo spirit inhabiting Hannah's body had lunged for her, had ripped holes in her immaterial form.

"Shit," she breathed. "That's just not fucking fair."

Jack had laughed at her, a rusty, disused sound, and she'd scowled and made a dig at his receding hairline – and naturally after that the conversation had dissolved into an exchange of (relatively) good-natured jabs and bickering.

Regardless, Beth didn't clock exactly what Josh was doing until he was nearly ready to start his god-awful excuse for a plan – aka, when he started carting fucking pig corpses up in the cable car and pinning up fake body diagrams in the weird workshop-type area he'd set up for himself in the ruined part of the old hotel under the lodge.

"Jack!" She burst through the wall of the chapel, skidding to a halt in the middle of the room. "Jack, my brother's a fucking idiot!"

"So you've been saying, for quite some time now." The hunter didn't look up from where he was weaving together another of the talismans used to ward off the wendigos. "What's different today?"

"What's different is I've finally worked out why he's here, why he keeps making trips up and down the mountain," Beth fumed, pacing in a tight circle. "He's put together some stupid fucking prank of all things, and is inviting everyone who was involved in what went down last year back to the Blackwood, to get revenge for mine and Hannah's deaths – and don't get me wrong, I'm fucking pissed myself, especially at Mike and Jess and Emily, but pretending to be a serial killer is a pretty fucking extreme response, and not to mention, there are fucking wendigos on the mountain that could actually murder them –"

"Hold on," Jack interrupted gruffly, a scowl forming on his face. "Start again. Did you say he's pretending to be a serial killer?"

Several hours and a great deal of swearing later, they had some semblance of a plan hammered out and Beth was once more wandering the upper slopes of the mountain in an effort to calm down (Jack's preferred method being to retreat into his favourite armchair and irritably smoke one of his prized cigars).

I knew Josh was in a bad way, but fuck. God, I hope we can help him. Actually, fuck that. We are going to help him, and we're going to get everyone off this cursed fucking mountain. No one else is going to die.

xxx

Two days later, Beth watched the cable car station rumble into life and couldn't help but wonder if she'd maybe be a little bit too optimistic. It didn't take a genius to see the fractures and fault lines running through their previously tight-knit group, the way that hurt and tension and words left unspoken sang through the air between them.

(A small, unkind part of her is glad, glad that they haven't just gone on with their lives, glad to see that underneath petty cruelty and ill-considered alcohol-fuelled actions, they care enough to feel grief and guilt over her and Hannah's deaths.)

Then she saw Sam and the rest of world seemed to fade into the background. The blonde was as beautiful as ever as she talked to Chris, but Beth could see the tiredness under her cheerful demeanour, how much being back at Blackwood was wearing on her.

(It hurt like fire, seeing her again, with the ghosts of could-have-beens hovering around them both, but she was glad too – a year was long time to go without seeing the woman you were pretty sure you were in love with, even if you had never admitted it even to yourself, even if your untimely death had killed any chance of it ever going anywhere. She was still glad.)

Beth couldn't help but stick close to Sam, shadowing her footsteps even as she tried to keep an eye on the rest of the group. She could sense Jack somewhere off to her left, the faint buzz of the runes he always carried on his person helping her to keep tabs on him, even as he kept tabs on her friends.

As they approached the lodge, she could feel little pockets of energy where Jack had placed what talismans he had on hand in a loose ring around the perimeter of the building, anchoring them firmly to the ground. Apparently they were next to useless indoors, but outside they were enough to make the wendigos at least shy away. (Which, really, explained why Jack felt comfortable enough to actually fall asleep on this cursed mountain. Although the talismans around the sanatorium wouldn't do him any good if the wendigos locked up in the basement somehow got out – although she supposed that was what flamethrowers were for.)

It took approximately two point three seconds for Emily and Jessica to start bitching when everyone made it inside and Beth could only wait it out, rolling her ghostly eyes as hard as she could. She was even less pleased a minute later when Josh used it as an excuse to send Mike and Jess away from the relative safety of the lodge. "What the hell, Josh," she complained at him, her words falling on deaf ears as the group moved around her intangible form. "You better fucking hope Jack is on the ball."

I'm pissed at Mike and Jess, but I don't want them to be fucking eaten.Involuntarily, the image of her body's pale arm with chunks of flesh missing from it flashed in her mind's eye and she forced it away with a shudder. Get your shit together, Beth.

Of course, that was when Emily decided to kick up a fuss about a fucking bag of all things and Beth was forced to watch another pair of idiots trail back out into the cold and the dark, and she was suddenly too busy being pissed off to be upset. "Fuck me, Emily, are your panties really that fucking important?!" she bellowed from the doorway as they turned down the path, snow swirling around them. "Fuck's sake."

She couldn't leave though, couldn't follow them, because she managed to read a decent amount of Josh's plans when he left his notebook lying open on his desk and she knew her best chance at actively derailing this whole thing before it properly began was going to happen fairly soon.

Sure enough, Josh sent himself and the three remaining members of the group scrambling through the lodge on a miniature scavenger hunt and when they reconvened (Sam bowed out to go and take a bath, and it took all of Beth's self-control not to follow her like an overprotective shadow), she watched with eager anticipation as Chris lifted the spirit board out of its box. She could feel a shiver of something around the board, a faint buzz of energy that gave her hope that the board might actually function as advertised.

This had better fucking work, she thought, half-curse, half-prayer. I can't think of another way to get through to Josh, short of Jack bodily dragging him off the mountain – which would a) probably result in Jack getting arrested, and b) would not actually solve any of the emotional or mental issues. Plus, he might just come right back again.

Chris, Josh and Ashley settled themselves around the little table and even despite the knots in her stomach, Beth took a moment to be amused that Josh's dramatic ass hadn't bothered to put the lights on and had filled the area with candles instead.

It was decided that Ashley would be the medium and she looked more than a little nervous at the prospect as she began to speak. "Ok. Um… hello? Is anyone there? Will you reveal yourself to us…if you're there?"

As if her words had flipped an invisible switch, Beth felt something in the currents of energy around her shift and the fuzzy potential around the spirit board suddenly sharpened into crystal-like clarity. Somehow, instinctively, she knew even as she lunged for the pointer that picking up the object would work perfectly, no fumbled attempts at holding on – and it did. "Yes," she hissed in triumph, as she grasped the pointer with fingers that almost felt solid. "Fucking finally!"

Beth pulled the pointer across the board with a speed born of deep and long-held frustration, ignoring the startled cries of the other three people with their fingers on the triangle of wood.

"Woah!" Chris cried, sounding more excited than freaked out. "It's moving, it's moving!"

"Guys, what –?!" Josh's tone was deeply unnerved and Beth couldn't help the spark of grim satisfaction at the sound as she shunted the pointer around. Nope, sorry Josh. You're not in control here.

"It's spelling something!" Ashley sounded a little panicked. "Omigosh, it's actually spelling something!"

"Read it, Ash, you're the medium," Chris urged.

Ashley looked like she was deeply regretting ever agreeing to a séance, letting alone being the medium but she swallowed hard and starting reading. "Um, that was an S – T –O –P, and then um, a Y, then a O – U – R – G – A – M – E – J – O –"

She fell silent, as did the other two as the words slowly formed out of the individual letters. "Stop your game, Josh," Ashley narrated uncertainly. "People will get hurt."

"What?" Josh croaked out, but Beth didn't pause to look at him, too intent on getting her message across now that she could finally speak.

"L – E – A – V – E, leave," Ashley's eyes were enormous and scared, her voice faltering, but she kept reading faithfully, "All in danger–"

Beth paused to check if Josh was taking this in and the sight of him caused her to halt the pointer, completely stunned. His face was bone-white, entirely without colour. The black smudges under his lashes stood out like deep bruises and his eyes glittered, huge and dark in the candlelight. But his expression was what pierced her right to the core – absolute shock, underlain with a terrible, gaping, self-destructive grief… and the barest glimmer of desperate, painful hope.

And with that, Beth's anger fell away like the early morning fog burned off by the sun and she closed her eyes, ashamed. This wasn't Josh's fault; he was hurting deeply from their deaths. Those files she had found suggested that he was more ill than he'd ever let her know, or had deteriorated badly since last year. And he didn't know about the wendigos.

And then he spoke and her heart clenched so hard that she felt the burning pressure in her eyes that told her she would be crying if she could.

"Beth?" he whispered, voice so thin it was barely audible. "Han? Is that you?"

Beth breathed deeply, unnecessarily and then placed a hand on the pointer again. It only shook slightly as she gently glided it across the board, first to 'yes' and then to 'no'.

"Beth?" he asked, voice breaking mid-way through her name. Ashley and Chris were utterly silent and Beth couldn't look away from her brother's face long enough to see what their expressions were like. She moved the pointer again, drawing their index fingers with her, and stopped over 'yes'.

Josh made a sound like a strangled sob and jerked his head away from the table, hiding his expression. "I – I –" he rasped, voice thick with tears. "I'm so sorry, Beth, I'm so sorry, please, please, I didn't, please –"

Beth's heart broke at his agonised apologies. "No, Josh, no," she murmured pointlessly, before grabbing the pointer in frustration again.

"Not your fault." Ashley's voice wavered, frail with shock, but still carrying out her appointed task as the wooden triangle whisked across the board. "Don't blame you. Love you, idiot. Buck up, Joshie."

The agonised noise that tore out of Josh at the familiar sound of Hannah and Beth's childhood nickname for him was utterly raw with grief and love in equal measure, wavering with a thread of hysterical laughter. Beth let go of the pointer, watching and aching at the sight of the tears running down her brother's face, and wishing fiercely, pointlessly that she could wrap him up in a hug.

Silence reigned over the séance apart from the sound of Josh's crying and Beth finally turned to look at Chris and Ashley. Shell-shocked was probably the best word to describe their faces, along with grief and guilt of their own. "Is…is she finished speaking?" Ashley whispered, her gaze darting around the room.

"I don't know." Chris shared a look with her, and then they glanced at Josh, clearly wanting to say something but unsure as to what. "Josh, bro…" Chris stretched out his free hand and placed it gently on his best friend's shoulder. "Is okay if we let go?" From the look on Chris' face, he clearly wanted to be able to move around the table and freely comfort Josh, but her brother's head snapped up so suddenly it was startling.

"No!" The vehemence of his shout was shocking and Chris and Ashley flinched away. "No, she can't go, not yet – !"

"Josh, I'm sure Beth will wait around for a bit, if you still want to talk to her," Ashley squeaked, clearly unnerved by the wild look in his eyes. "At least, I think she will?" she added uncertainly.

Beth wasted no time in reaching out and guiding the pointer to 'yes' and Ashley managed a smile at the sight. "See, Josh? Beth isn't going anywhere. Why don't we move to the sofa for now?"

"C'mon Josh," Chris added coaxingly, "You've had a shock, bro. We can come back to the board in a bit."

Chris and Ashley's joint efforts got Josh to lift his finger, with great reluctance, from the pointer and as they simultaneously removed their hands, Beth felt the current of energy snap. The vibrating clarity around the board drained away and it was once again just a piece of wood, faintly lit with potential energy.

The two managed to get Josh situated on the sofa, curled up between them, and exchanged glances over Josh's bowed head, clearly at a loss. He was still crying, although quieter now and muttering wetly under his breath, and Beth ached at the sight, feeling utterly useless.

"What do you think?" Ashley broke the silence first. Her voice was trembling and nervous, her eyelashes wet with tears of her own. "Do – do you think it really was –?" she darted an anxious glance at Josh, still hunched over on himself.

Chris blew out a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair, his own eyes suspiciously bright. "I – I don't know Ash. Normally I'd say that's impossible, that ghosts don't exist – but I don't know," he ended helplessly. "What else could it have been? Unless you…?" he darted a glance at her.

Ashley recoiled in horror. "No!" she cried, forgetting to keep her voice down in her shock. "No, I didn't do it! Why would I?"

"…What?"

Ashley blanched as she suddenly found herself looking into the dark brown eyes of Josh Washington. Bloodshot, wet with tears, more than a little lost – and rapidly focusing as dark grief bled into darker rage. "You were – you were pretending?"

"What? No!" Ashley yelped, hastily shuffling along the sofa until her back hit the armrest. "No, Josh, I swear I wasn't!"

Her pleading fell on deaf ears as Josh shot to his feet, gripping his hair in agitation. "No, no, no, no," he snarled, knuckles whitening. "This can't be – it can't be –"

"Hey, bro, it's okay," Chris stood up too, attempting to soothe his best friend. "It wasn't Ashley, I was just being stupid man, you know how I feel about the supernatural – I can't believe evidence even when it's right in front of my face."

Josh didn't even seem to notice Chris' strained, joking attempt at diffusing the situation and Beth watched with rapidly increasing alarm as her brother squeezed his eyes shut, digging his fingers into his scalp with a cry of pain. Then his eyes snapped open and he wheeled on Ashley, roaring "How could you?!"

Then he lunged and Ashley screamed – Beth and Chris both yelled "No!" and there was a confused flurry of movement than ended with Josh's clenched fist meeting Chris' head as the latter put himself between the former and Ashley.

Chris dropped to the floor, out like a light, and Ashley kept screaming, horrified and terrified all at once, and then Josh's fist silenced her too.

A/N: Thanks for reading and apologies again for the delay; if you enjoyed, please leave a comment and let me know. ^_^