Okie, I am sorry that this took so long, but I lost hold of the character's voices in my head. Anything I wrote was just stitlted and horrid. But I'm not going to abandon this story, it just might take a while for me to turn out new chapters.
Okay IMPORTANT SERIOUSLY PLEASE READ:
Preeclampsia is mentioned in this chapter, it's a disorder in 5-8 precent of pregnant women and very terrible and very dangerous. You may look it up, but fanfiction eats links so I can't offer you one. I just picked it up because I wanted to explain Barbara's trouble with having children, and I knew about that disorder verses some of the others I could have picked. I bring this up because I mention--breifly--abortion for medical purposes. Okay this isn't a ratings thing this is a "I do not want to hear one word about your political beliefs." I don't want to know if you are pro-choice or pro-life and I'm not telling you what I feel. I just wanted to explain their troubles, their strengths and their relationships and this allowed me to do that. Seriously. I love you all desperately but I hate talking about politics for my own private reasons and I just really don't want to get into that debate but I wanted the scene in there. Don't make me regret it please.
This does not mean you can't say you liked or disliked the scene, tell me if you thought it fit or didn't, I just don't want a political debate.
Thanks and onto the story.
She had no way of knowing how long she had been in this dark and dismal—dusty—place, but she was certain that she had been gone enough to miss her family and friends desperately; and she had been gone long enough to wish she was missed.
She stared at the ring on her finger, a heavy metal band that looked like it might be brass rather than gold. There was a dark stone in the center that looked more like a rock than an actual gem. She growled in frustration and gripped the ring hard enough to hurt the tips of her fingers and pulled at the ring, planning it rip it off and sling it at something—anything if that bastard's head wasn't in view.
The ring would not budge, and all she succeeded in doing was ripping the skin of her fingers to shreds. She growled again, more like a sob, and flopped down onto her creaking mattress. She was going to be stuck in this miserable closet for the rest of her life.
She wished that she was the sort of girl that princes would come and rescue.
Barbara and Adam had never been a terribly conventional couple, unintentionally they always managed to do things in a way entirely different from anyone else. It was just as well because at times it seemed like there was no one else who could understand the pair. This might have been part of why they got along with Lydia so well, they were used to living in their own little world of sunlight, dust and models and Lydia fit well into that.
If in life childbearing had been unlikely it was even more difficult for the couple now in death and they found themselves looking to Lydia as the child they had been unable to conceive, it was just as well since Lydia had been lacking that sort of warm love. Her father loved her and Delia tolerated her but they were from New York and there were more important things than what their daughter did at school and the names of her teachers.
If the ghosts that they had to share their home with wanted to do that familiar drivel that was fine.
That is not to say that Charles and Delia did not love their daughter—step-daughter—and when she and that Ghost vanished in a flash with their child the four banded together seeking to bring her back. Charles and Delia understood that the Maitlands were better equipped to find the missing girl and so they clung to each other in their country home and did the only thing they could think of, they prayed.
The first thing they had tried was calling his name, but while he was Bound to leave at the mention of his name, you could not force him to come—or maybe that was attributed to his new mortal bride. When they could not get to Betelgeuse they went to Juno. They pushed through the make-shift door in their attic kingdom and exploded into the waiting room, screaming for Juno.
"You have to wait your turn." The receptionist drolled, smacking on gum and rolling her eyes. Barbara lunged at the woman grabbing the gaudy collar that she still wore from life and dragging the woman forward so the two women were eye to eye.
"That monster Betelgeuse stole that little girl from our home. That living girl! Now you either get Juno down here right this instant or I'm going to pull you through this tiny window and make you take me to Juno." She hissed, and Adam stood at her shoulder, his fingers just barely brushing her shoulder. He knew that Barbara was better and confrontation than he was—discounting when it came to meddling-family members. He also knew that she was just as worried for Lydia and he did all he could; he stood at her side and let her know that he was there.
"What in the Nine Hells are you doing?" A gruff voice called from behind them. Barbara dropped the hold she had on Miss Argentina and spun, nearly decking poor Alan who stood at her side. He knew well enough to back away and together they faced Juno.
The woman stood looking up at the pair with a cigarette dangling from between her lips, pressed thin in her anger. Alan jumped when Miss Argentina slammed the small plastic window shut behind them with a bang. "He took Lydia! You're always spouting rules and regulations, you can't just let him do that! You have to get her back!" Barbara shouted. Only Alan could hear the twinge in her voice that signaled just how scared she was for the child. She trembled like a string pulled too tight and twanged against his soft touch and he wished he could still feel her when he hugged her.
"What did he do wrong? You let him out when I told you not to. You didn't put him back even when I told you. You left out the Handbook for Otho to find." She advanced on them with each accusation she hurled. "Lydia promised herself to him in marriage if he saved your skins. He did and she married him and now she's Bound to his side for all eternity. As much as I detest the power he has now, and as much as I would like the living to stay where they belong there is nothing I can do." The lights dimmed when she spoke and her words carried all the finality of a judge's sentence.
Her face softened—at least as much as her hardened face could soften—and she reached out to touch Barbara's trembling arm. "I will do all I can, but our world is bound by rules, just like the world of the Living, and this is unprecedented. There might be something I can do but shouting up a storm and torturing a secretary is not going to help Lydia." She murmured. People appeared from the offices, peering around corners and watching the first time anyone could name that Juno was being kind. "Go home, comfort her parents, and know that we are doing everything we can."
It was miserable to have to give up so soon, but Juno had a point, a point they had refused to see in their anger and worry. They returned home and as the door slid shut behind them Barbara collapsed against her soft-spoken husband.
"Oh Adam." She wept. It was rare that his wife—normally the strong one in their relationship—cried, the first time was just after they were married, when her father died suddenly.
The second time was in their third year of marriage. They knew from the start that they wanted children and were thrilled when she became pregnant so soon after their wedding. She was a perfect, glowing mother-to-be until the first few days of the third trimester. She started complaining of headaches often, and spent most of her time in bed. When she did get up she proved to be dizzy and found herself suffering bouts of double-vision.
Barbara had always been healthy so they didn't think much of it, but when she collapsed in the kitchen one morning Adam called 911—too scared to even dare move her beyond rolling her onto her back and lifting her head into his lap. He stayed on the phone with the operator until the paramedics arrived and managed to remember to thank her before following his wife to the hospital. She didn't wake up until she was already settled into a bed in the hospital.
The doctor called it "Pre-eclampsia," and used words like "fatal" and "rapidly advancing". The headaches were so painful Adam was told to make the decision. They could try and save the baby, which might leave Barbara and their child dead, or they could abort now and increase Barbara's chances of survival.
He chose Barbara and she was angry with him at first, and for a long while he feared she would leave him.
She came around though—he never knew why—forgave him and they tried again, but conceiving never came so easily again. She was pregnant once but it didn't last more than a few weeks and artificial means were too far out of their financial reach.
She had cried for a long time—sometimes with no reason—but she had gotten strong again, and they even got used to the scares and the hoping and the shattered hopes. They were strong like that: that had been ten years before they met Lydia and her family and she had not cried since then.
He had not even been certain that they could cry now that they were dead, but he held her all the same and shushed her softly and rocked her back and forth and told her that everything would be okay, the same things he had whispered to her when she finally came home from the hospital. He did not know then and he did not know now if things would ever be okay, but he promised they would all the same.
He was the quiet one, the nurturing one, but he was stubborn and strong too, he had to be, and he would do anything he could; just like Barbara would and just like Juno would.
Right now that was the best he could do, and right now that was what Barbara needed.
"Wait--" She was still crying but her eyes glittered with hope and that meant all the more. "We could make a door to see Juno, and he could get into your model, do you think there's someway we could get to wherever he is? We could go save Lydia ourselves."