Beetlejuice, Lydia, the neitherworld… They don't belong to me. I just love them so much I want to take them in both arms, rip open my chest cavity, and stuff them inside forever, right next to my heart. Of course, if they were mine, just look what I'd do to them… But that being said, please don't sue me, okay?

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Heck. I know where I'm going. Just not entirely clear how to get there from here. And feeling a little like I haven't gotten enough sleep, even though I've gotten plenty. Is it just my imagination, or is this admittedly uncomfortable storyline, turning out even weirder than I expected…? I just keep telling myself, this is the way it's always been going… People keep asking what happens next, so hey, it has to be written… Right? Can't change what's set in stone… and in some way I don't understand myself, this has been set in stone for a while.

Maybe I do need sleep.

PS, an apology to BeetlesBabes, whose name is mentioned again in this chapter... I totally forgot that was her name. . I think it's a pretty cool name, but um, I don't think I can change it now...It's kind of integral to the story. Is that okay? I hope so...

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Beetlejuice was wrist deep in his current client, feng shui'ing their internal organs, so to speak when he felt the tingle down his spine of someone calling his name. He froze, in the midst of replacing a kidney, eyes briefly narrowing in surprise. The curse applied to his name had been a thorn in his side for many years, a way of putting a leash on him… But there shouldn't be anyone left who had that particular power. He'd killed them all. So who was calling him?

He drew his hands free, wiping them off on his coat, and considered the near-dead guy before him, long since lost into unconsciousness. He repaired the damage he'd done with a thought, not one to leave messes to tell tales, at least when it came to the living. Twice now, they'd said his name twice. Why the hesitation now? His fingers twitched. If one person still had power over him… They wouldn't for long.

Suddenly he was pulled forward, so suddenly that he stood in the dark little room before he was really aware of moving. He'd forgotten how fast that was… His gaze turned to the only other person in the room with him, presumably the cause of his summons, a girl. He wouldn't kill her, not just yet. First he had some questions… And he was very good at getting answers.

Before he could advance, the girl turned, and on seeing him, her face lit up like the sunrise, briefly freezing him in surprise. "B!" She crooned, like it was some little pet name she had for him, crossing the distance between them without hesitation. While he stood there stiffly, not sure what to make of this greeting, she threw her arms around him, nestling her body trustingly against his own. She waswarm. Damn, she was a breather? Then how the hell…? "I wasn't early, was I?"

He just stared down at her, struggling between his instinct to snap in half anyone with that kind of power over him, and an utter bafflement that demanded that he let her live long enough for some sort of explanation. For now, he didn't break his silence. He wanted to see what she'd do next.

Slowly she grew still against him, and even more slowly, drew back, her eyes taking him in with a sense of puzzlement. As if she were as confused by the situation as he was. "B?" She was uncertain now, still using the familiar moniker, but clearly not sure what to think of his blood soaked clothes. And here she was pretending to know him… "What happened?"

Beetlejuice just continued to stare at her, until her wandering eyes finally met his own. He swore, when they did, she flinched visibly, some sort of hurt and worry flickering across her suddenly wide pupils. "B?" Still she persisted in that, though now with far less certainty. "Beej?" Another shortening of his name, no more familiar than the last. "What's wrong?"

Again, it occurred to him that it would save a great deal of time to just kill her now, rather than letting his curiosity draw this out. But he was curious. How the hell did she know him? Why the hell would she call him, if she did? He reached out, taking her chin between thumb and forefinger, and gave himself a long moment to study her features, looking for anything he might recognize.

Nothing. This girl was a stranger to him. A damn good looking stranger, but whatever game she was playing, she clearly didn't know what she was getting into. Odd though, if she knew who he was, that she didn't flinch at all when he reached for her…

"Who the hell are you?" He finally demanded. For a long moment, she just stared at him, utterly uncomprehending. Then her lips moved, slowly, and after a moment more, her knees seemed to buckle a little, and she suddenly had trouble keeping her feet.

She took a slow step back, more an effort to remain standing than one to escape, then another, then another. At last she had nowhere to retreat to, the back of her legs finding her mattress, and she simply fell. Never once did her eyes so much as blink. "B," She whispered, her voice shaken, "That's not funny." A long pause hung between them, as he tried again to figure out what her game was. She continued to stare though, and after a moment, her next words were far softer. "But, you're not joking, are you?"

"Not something I'd joke about, kid." He growled, advancing on her a little, and noting in some distant part of his mind that she still didn't draw away, her eyes simply widening a little more. "Not when I'm guessing you're talking about the reason I haven't killed you yet, considering you can use my name."

At first, it seemed she had no answer to this, she just sat there, slumped, a devastated look to her whole body. "But… you're my best friend." She whispered softly.

Beetlejuice gave a short, sharp laugh, from disbelief as much as anything. "Now I know you're bull-shitting me, kid. No one in their right mind would call a guy like me their friend…" His laughter died though, just as suddenly, as she seemed to find no humor in it at all, and just continued to stare down at her hands, with unsettling intensity. He shook his head grimly, no longer amused. "Hope that little game was worth your life, kid… You'd have been better off, me never finding out you could call me."

The girl, even as he started advancing again, lifted her hand between them, spinning a circlet of gold on her finger. "I'm wearing your ring." She whispered, her voice so earnest, so without any trace of deceit, that it gave him pause yet again. With a slightly building voice, she reached into her shirt, and drew out a beetle shaped locket, saying more loudly, almost a yell, "I'm wearing your locket! Look at it!"

Not bothering to unclasp the bit of jewelry, she ripped the chain from her neck, breaking it, and causing a small flare of red to bloom against her throat. She was on her feet, advancing on him, with such a complete lack of fear that it caught him off guard, making him stumble back, and look at her again like she was crazy. She didn't care, she grabbed for his bloodied hand, and shoved the locket into it, her eyes desperate now. "It's not funny, B! You have to remember me! You're all I have!"

Recovering his senses, he gave her a solid shove backwards, making her fall across the bed again. She just lay there this time, tears springing up in her eyes, her lips trembling. "Look at it…" She begged him, shaking her head slowly. "You gave that to me not even a month ago! I haven't taken it off once! Look at the back, B!"

His head spinning a little, in a way he really didn't like, he turned the locket over, and did his best to wipe the blood away. It was an engraving of him, with some girl… With her. And the words, 'Beetle's Babes,' were carved deeply beneath it. As far as mind games went, this one was pretty damn elaborate. He looked up with a frown. "Strike two, kid." He said softly. "You can't bullshit a bull-shitter. You got one try left to convince me not to rip you into pieces, wait for you to die, then do it again."

For the first time, a trace of fear touched her gaze, and she just stared at him, apparently without anything left to say. Just as he started to smile though, accepting this as surrender, she whispered, "Look next to your heart, B."

Beetlejuice snorted, now she was just being pathetic. "For what, some hint of mercy I've just never shown until now?" He sneered, adjusting his sleeves, already deciding the best way to do this. "Give it a rest, kid…"

"Not in your heart!" She snapped, her voice suddenly rising in anger. "Next to your heart! You always keep a picture of me close to your heart, so goddamn it, just look!" Her voice cracked in desperation, the anger vanishing as quickly as it came. She pulled herself up again, her eyes pleading. "Look, if I'm lying… You can do whatever you want with me. But if I'm telling the truth… Please, try to remember!"

As far as last ditch ploys went, this one was certainly desperate. But since inside his own body was the one place he knew she couldn't plant something, he rolled his eyes, cracked his ribcage open, and waited for her to try something. Only she didn't. Instead, her face lit up with hope. Why?

Glancing down, he saw the slip of paper now sticking out of his chest, and swore his stomach did a little flip. Pulling it out in disbelief, he turned it between his fingers, and narrowed his eyes at it, not willing to accept what his own eyes were telling him. It was her. The girl who summoned him. He looked from her image, to her, then back again. There was no mistaking it.

Turning it over, he found writing on the back, more astonishingly still, in his own handwriting. Lyds, being careless, yet again. Babes has no clue I'm not ten feet away… Gotta love her.

Beetlejuice felt the need to sit down, and walked across the distance between them without really thinking about it, sitting next to the living girl on her bed. He tucked the picture back into his chest, absently, and looked down at her, surprised to find her once more tucked into his side, her tear-streaked face looking up into his broken-heartedly.

"I knew you were going to kill me one day, B." She whispered, her throat thick with emotion, "But you told me you'd be gentle, and… I thought you'd know me, and we could be together." She turned her face into his shoulder, wiping her tears on his striped coat, and smearing her own face with blood in the process. "You promised, B. Forever. You promised. Please remember, please…"

This girl had a serious death wish, and was clearly more than a little unbalanced to boot. But she was also telling the truth, as impossible as it seemed. He frowned, and dropped his hand to her head, playing with her silky black hair as he thought this over. He'd forgotten a lot of things, in the midst of a killing spree. That was true. He'd woken up before with days lost to his memory. But one thing he'd never forgotten, was a face. Not once, in over six hundred years.

And apparently, he was even less likely to forget this particular kid's face. She was just resting against him, not saying a word, not even looking up anymore. Like she just didn't have the will to fight for her own life, if he couldn't remember why he shouldn't kill her. Was there a reason? There'd have to be a pretty damn good one…

She was wearing his ring, right? He gazed at the slip of gold distrustfully. No way to tell how much of this was real, if he couldn't remember shit. She stirred against him, her hand dropping to his opposite one, and sighed, pressing her warm body briefly against him. Damn, that felt good. He wasn't expecting that. Wasn't expecting her to stay so still, so limp, in his arms. Wasn't expecting to like it.

A small, pained sound escaped her, as her head fell against his arm, and her tears started flowing again. "What would make you forget me, B?" She whispered, her breath soft as thought, "I can't believe you'd forget me, unless something made you… You'd never forget me."

Unless something made him? Her words, so carelessly spoken, struck a chord of warning in him, and Beetlejuice's eyes narrowed grimly. Well, that was a distinct possibility, wasn't it? And the only one that made sense. He'd had memories stolen before, memories of who he was, and how he behaved, in some idea that this would rehabilitate him… Some of them he'd never gotten back, but it hadn't changed a damn thing about him. Would someone try that again? He thought he'd made his point the first time…

But why make him forget the girl? If he gave a damn about her, which he still couldn't imagine, then that was a weakness his enemies should exploit, not rid him of. What did he give a damn about a girl he didn't even remember? He shook his head, not able to make heads or tails of it, and finally pushed her away with a grimace. "I'm outta here, kid." He growled roughly, standing. "Before I do something I might regret later." She stared at him stupidly, and he scowled. "B words, kid. Send me back while I'm still in a good mood."

Slowly, the girl shook her head, then nodded, a soft sigh escaping her. When she lifted her gaze again, her eyes were filled with light once more, with something that towards another person, he might have even called something bigger. "You're all I have, B." She whispered again, a small, sad smile playing across her mouth. "You'll come back to me. I know it." And then his name, once, twice, thrice…

And it was time to find out just exactly what it was he'd forgotten. As he'd reflected once already, if there was one thing he was good at, it was getting answers.

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Hours had passed. Hours. At any moment, she'd expected Beetlejuice to pop back into her mirror, oh yeah, he remembered her now, couldn't that have turned nasty… Her mirror remained empty. She hadn't moved from her position since he'd left, staring at the unblemished glass, empty, mocking. He'd come back any moment though. He had to.

Her throat itched, and she lifted her hand to it absently. She'd cut herself, pulling the locket free, and the blood had dried where it trickled across her pale skin. Now it stuck at her, and itched. She licked her thumb, and did her best to smudge it away, too lost in thought to really pay attention as she just succeeded in opening the wound again.

It must be almost midnight. She blinked, suddenly finding her eyes heavy, and turned to look at her clock. She was a little surprised to find that it was three in the morning. She'd expected him back by now…

No. No, that was stupid. He didn't remember her. He might never come back again. And if he did come back, it might be to kill her. For good.

Her whole world had gone dark with his roughly spoken demand, 'Who the hell are you?' She felt, broken. And yet her lips remained pressed into a small smile. Defiant. B didn't remember her. He'd probably kill her, then kill her again. That was fine. She had nothing to live for without him, anyway. She wondered briefly what happened to a ghost, when they died…

She got to her feet, a little unsteadily, and was about to head to the bathroom, her only intention to drown herself in water as hot as she could stand, until the pain stopped. Not literally of course. She still had hope. But she was stopped by a small sound behind her, like someone clearing their throat.

Lydia spun, her heart doing its best to skyrocket out of her chest. B? It made no sense at all, to her mind, when her eyes landed on Ginger instead, so she just stared, confused. Expecting her image to give way to the poltergeist's at any moment. Then slowly, she managed a small smile. She never thought she'd hear from the spider again… It wasn't Beetlejuice, but it was someone to talk to.

"Ging…" She whispered, a little giggle catching the word, almost like a sob. The spider's face, which had been frightened, almost unwillingly grew concerned. "God, you remember me, right?" And then she fell into a fit of giggles, just feeling too much at once, which ended only when Ginger reached bodily through the mirror, and shook her.

"You look like hell, sugar!" Ginger greeted her, when the insane giggling finally subsided. "Here I was, about to tell you the bad day I had, and I'd swear you been through something even worse!" A small pause, before she admitted, "And I ain't even sure how that'd be possible, with you still breathing, and everything…"

"B doesn't remember me." It was said no louder than a whisper, still with that same defiant smile. "He's got no clue who I am. I'm kinda surprised he didn't kill me. Twice."

The pink spider looked dumbfounded, then turned her gaze around the goth girl's room, twice, before it landed back on Lydia's face. "Honey," She protested softly, "You're not making any sense. I mean, you two been friends, for…"

"Years." Lydia answered simply, waving this away. "Forever, it seems like. Doesn't matter. He doesn't remember me anymore." Even now, the horrible fact was still taking its time to sink in. "But, he will, right? I mean, he can't just forget me, and…" And what? Move on with his afterlife, without her?

Something in her chest swelled up, like it was too full, and she let out a little sound of pain. At the same time though, the smile on her face became a little more genuine, if a bit grimmer. "Well, I'll make him remember then. He fell for me once, right? Even if he doesn't remember…" Okay, so honestly, she didn't buy that for an instant, and had to pause, to think how the finish the words honestly. "Even if he doesn't remember, he's still my best friend." She finished quietly.

Ginger backed up a little, even in the glass, looking more worried by the moment. "But sugar, if he's forgotten everything, then maybe you should just…"

"What?" The word fell from her tongue fiercely, as her eyes gleamed with determination. "Stay forgotten?" A slow shake of her head. "I'll let him kill me, before I let him forget me." This said, she stood abruptly, reaching for her old poncho, and swung it over her shoulders with a stubborn grin. "If he lost his memory, I'll just find it. That's how the neitherworld works, right?"

"I- I'm not sure it is, honey…" Ginger tried to protest, clearly not liking where this was going.

"It's like a bag of marbles," Lydia pressed on, no longer listening at all, "Someone in the neitherworld loses their marbles, they actually lose their marbles, right? Then you find them, you put them back, everything's fine again!" She was making less and less sense as she went on, since that probably wasn't how it worked at all, and she damn well knew it. But at this point, she was willing to try anything. "I wonder what the hell a memory looks like, anyway?"

"Lydia, I really don't think you should…" Ginger was trying to caution her, even as once again, the goth girl ignored her, throwing her arms into the arm with a slightly mad laugh, and yelling the poltergeist's name. "Honey, don't do that!" The spider cried louder, alarmed. Again she yelled it, still ignoring the girl she'd wanted so badly to be friends with, just earlier that day. "I'm serious, you're gonna get yourself killed!"

"BEETLEJUICE!" Lydia yelled at the top of her lungs, not caring who heard, not caring if she woke her parents up, just trying to drown out the little voice of reason in the back of her mind that told her that Ginger was right. The air tightened around her, in a way it never had before, and then she was falling, whipping through blackness deeper than fear…

And Ginger could only stare at the place where the living girl had stood just a moment before, her jaw slack in horror. There was nothing she could do now… Lydia was gone.

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"… so I figure, something like this goes down, a man in your position has to know about it, right?" Beetlejuice was smiling, that smile that made sane men wet themselves and run away. Only one of which the guy before him, seemingly formed of a twisted knot of tendons, could do. All around them, the air smelled of blood. Beetlejuice was full of bullet holes. The floor was covered with bits and pieces of the mob guy's goons. And Beetlejuice was sure as hell going to get his answers.

The man, whose name Beetlejuice couldn't currently bring to mind, was wide eyed, making little infantile noises in the back of his throat, and surely well aware that lying at this point would only make for a very drawn out death at the mad poltergeist's hands. "W-what do you care?" He rasped at last, his eyes fixed somewhere beyond the ghost, at some ghoul who, an hour before, had been hanging on his arm. "The broad was a liability, right? Someone in your position, they don't need anyone holding them down!"

This of course, was simply conformation, not only in what the girl had claimed, but that this clown, in fact, did know something. "Okay," Beetlejuice agreed, his smile growing marginally, "We're gonna call that strike one. Do I gotta ask again, or should we go for all three right now, and I can ask you again in a few hours?"

The crime boss, who currently had Beetlejuice's sharply clawed hand reaching somewhere into his innards, winced as the ghost twisted his fingers, making certain he'd made his point. "Okay, so I heard something!" He agreed hastily, actually yelling in pain as Beetlejuice, rather than relenting, just tightened his grip on his victim's liver. "I- I don't know nothing about who did it! Just that it's supposed to be some kind of divine retribution, taking away the only thing you give a fuck about!"

"And how exactly does that do a damn thing to me, if I can't remember?" The poltergeist pressed coldly, burrowing his arm up to the elbow now, while his other hand tightened even further on the doomed ghost's throat. "Don't seem like I'm losing anything, either way…"

"But you killed her, right?" This last came out as a squeak, the creature before him slowly going limp, the light fading from his eyes. "The only precious thing you got in your whole damn afterlife… So they'll make you remember now, and you'll have to… have to… fucking live with it. Damn it, what the hell are you…?" This last came out as a little gasp, and his head slumped forward, limply. Seemed he was telling the truth about not knowing who did it, after all.

This however, left Beetlejuice with a new, very real problem. Say he was soft on the girl. As hard as that was to believe. That he did give a damn about her. So someone out there was using this against him, waiting for him to kill the kid, and try to break his mind with it. By making him care about someone he'd killed. Hell with that.

Maybe just as importantly as the power this might offer them, was the fact that they'd fucking dared to steal from him. Beetlejuice! Took something that apparently meant something important, and sat back somewhere, laughing their asses off about it. Holding his memories in the palm of their hand… Hell, he didn't know if he wanted them back or not, but he sure as shit was going to make them pay for taking them!

He looked with a frown down at the half-dead dead guy by his feet. He wouldn't get anything more from him. Habit dictated that he kill him now… But he would let him live, so no one had any question two ways that it was him that did this. That he knew. There was a reason he was the thing that scared people in the dark… And if the neitherworld had forgotten that, then he was sure as shit gonna remind them.

This did however, leave the question of that girl… What was her name, anyway? Damn, he couldn't remember. He pulled the picture back out of his chest, smearing the black and white shading with red, and considered the words on the back again. Lyds. Huh. Not much of a name, was it? But he'd make sure to remember it, this time.

Giving the semi-conscious creep at his feet a final, savage kick, he stalked from the room in a royally foul mood, ready to kill the first person he laid eyes on. He swung the door open impatiently… And found himself staring at her again. That girl. The breather. How the hell had she gotten to the neitherworld?

Lyds, whatever her real name was, looked past him, without really meaning to, and her face went slack, just a little. Definitely pale. She swallowed hard, and turned her gaze back to him. Afraid, but not terrified. Not like she should be. "And what the hell do you want, kid?" He snapped, well aware that no matter how badly he wanted to hurt someone just then, he couldn't risk hurting her, or it might come back later to bite him in the ass. When he actually gave a damn again.

"I want to help you find your memory." She said slowly, forcing her gaze away from the bloodshed and death behind him a second time, and seeking some sort of comfort in his own red stained features. Help him find his memory, she said. Like it was something he'd fucking misplaced. "I'm not just letting you go."

Beetlejuice smiled, slowly. That smile that made sane men wet themselves, and run away. But this girl, she met that smile without flinching, and even answered it with a thinly-humored grin of her own. Almost challenging him to try to stop her. Kid was fucking crazy. But he could kind of admire that. "Your skin." He agreed softly, making her face, incredibly, flood with relief.

"Yeah," She agreed easily, as if this were no risk at all, "My skin."

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