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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Okay, sorry that once again, this is such a short chapter. But this story is pretty much telling me how it wants to be written, and not the other way around. I'm just trying my best to keep up.

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She was on her last legs, stubbornly attending school despite her lack of sleep, wondering at the same time why she bothered. It had to be because she loved learning. She had no intention of staying in this world long enough for a diploma to matter worth anything. Of course, that, with everything else in her life, was no longer nearly as certain as she'd thought it'd be.

No, the truth was, she went to school because it was expected of her. Because despite her relationship with Beetlejuice, despite her unconditional acceptance of all things bad that he did, she was agood girl. She didn't break the rules. She didn't start fights. And she didn't skip school. Even when she had damn good reason.

Staring in the mirror between homeroom and first period, she splashed herself in the face with cold water yet again, scrubbing at her eyes, which felt caked with gunk, and looked like she hadn't slept in days. There were dark circles around them, no eyeliner needed, and she managed a small smile of amusement as she observed that exhaustion accomplished what usually took make-up some applying. Not that it didn't look better when it was make-up…

He watched her as she wiped her face with a paper towel, amused that she had no idea he was standing right there, not even invisible, well within sight. Just leaning inside one of the stall doors, watching her. This chick was the fucking easiest target he could have asked for… But he wasn't even thinking about making a move against her. He wanted to see how long she managed to keep going, before she flat out fell over. He was guessing two more hours, tops.

He continued to stalk her, watching from here or there, as the day stretched on. Impressed when she not only passed his two hour estimation, but made it all the way through her classes, and then, with a grimace and a wince, start walking home.

She never made it, of course. She stopped, just for a brief rest, under a large, gnarly looking tree in a park rose garden, and promptly fell asleep, her book bag still clutched in her arms, her head lolling slightly to the side. She didn't make a sound as she slept, Beetlejuice noted, walking right up to her now, and crouching by her side. Honestly, she looked almost dead.

For a long time, he just watched her. Trying to find some insight into this utterly crazy breather, who by her own words, claimed to love him, and didn't seem to give a damn that he'd planned to kill her. But sleep revealed nothing.

At least not until he stood, and despite supposedly not knowing he was there, she made a small sound, opening her eyes, and looked straight at him. Her lips curved in a soft pink smile, though she never really woke up, closing her eyes again a moment later. It unsettled him, that someone could wake from a sound sleep, see him standing over them, and not figure they were having some kind of nightmare. Even smile.

Shaking his head with a soft grunt, he left her there, figuring that if the kid got herself in trouble, then that was her doing, not his. He had more important things to think about.

Moving back into the neitherworld had always been easier than trying to leave it, but that was one of the cardinal rules of how it worked. You were supposed to be able to get in. You weren't supposed to be able to get back out. For most dead, it worked just fine. But he'd never liked being constrained… Or authority figures. A fact that several such had learned, on trying to constrain him further with his own name.

Standing in what looked like a back alley, but was actually the main road in this part of the neitherworld, Beetlejuice strode absently down the cracked asphalt, pondering who to hunt down now. In one night, he'd eliminated half of the worse scum the neitherworld had. Yet still not a clue. That pissed him off almost as much as something daring to take his memories in the first place, and a hell of a lot more than actually losing them.

Maybe it was time to call in some favors… Not that he actually had any favors he could call in, but he could however, change that. The best favor he could do someone after all, was not killing them, right? His tongue flicked thoughtfully over his lips, and he considered where to visit first. Somewhere that he'd recently left an impression, surely… Since most of his recent memories were gone, maybe that meant he should make a second visit to the few survivors of his last round of questioning.

He started towards a well know club he'd once frequented, long before it fell into the hands of the so-called underground. He'd just go down the list again, he decided, hands in his pockets, whistling cheerfully. Then he'd use his new leverage to get some answers, and then…

And then what? The whistle died on his lips, and he frowned. Punishing the thief with without question. Punishing them slowly. What was in question, was what to do with his lost memories. Did he want them back? Wouldn't it be easier to, well, destroy them, and… His thoughts turned to the girl. He'd seen something in her, once. That was, strange, but fine. What he couldn't stand was the thought of her actually meaning something to him.

He could destroy the memories, start from scratch with her, make sure she didn't get such a strong hold on him this time. Make sure she didn't make him weak. It didn't mean he couldn't keep her, at least for a while. Because the girl was interesting, amusing, and not bad to look at, to boot. Fact was, now that he'd gotten to know her a little, he kinda wanted to keep her around… But the way he was now, or the way he was then?

"Death used to a hell of a lot easier." He muttered to himself, gazing at the nightclub, now in full daylight, and offering no sort of shelter to those within. "Kill people, get money, get drunk. Find a girl with low standards, have a little fun… Decide in the morning whether to let her live, because you don't give a fuck about it either way. No strings."

But about this girl, he did give a fuck, and… Hell, was he really gonna leave her back in that park alone, with any Tom, Dick, and Asshole to have his way with her? Growling, he left the nightclub behind before the thought had really even formed. He made no mistake, he wasn't looking out for her best interests, he was simply protecting what was his…

The question was, at what point exactly he'd started thinking of Lydia as his…?

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Opening her eyes, Lydia found herself trapped, somewhere dark, a light, clinging weight holding her down. Yanking herself up with a gasp, she threw the covers from her head, her heart pounding, looking around herself without recognition. Where was she? Shadows cast a menacing shape across everything, for the first time in a long time, making her truly afraid of the dark.

She'd fallen asleep beneath that old tree… Utter stupidity. She cursed herself as she threw her legs over the side of the bed, and… Bed? She froze, her feet a breath from touching the floor, and looked around herself again, more slowly this time. Without fear to distort her vision, familiar shapes began to make themselves known. She was in… her room?

Dumbfounded, Lydia shook her head, still breathing hard from her brief panic. Slowly her face dropped, and she pinched the place between her eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. Okay, how much of what she remembered was a dream? For one wild moment, she imagined that Beetlejuice hadn't forgotten her at all, that it was just some cruel nightmare…

Her lips set into a tight line, she sighed, her hand falling away again. No. It wasn't a nightmare. She had no reason to dream something like that. Her eyes turned around the room, taking her time taking in the sights. Everything seemed so unchanged. How could her world have been turned so completely upside down, and yet there was her poncho, right where she always hung it, and there were her thick dark curtains, that always kept out the blinding light, and there was her mirror…

Beetlejuice. What time was it? She made a grab for her old clock, the one she had to wind every day, to hear its reassuring, heavy tock, and found what should have been obvious before she reached for it. She hadn't wound the thing in days now… It was silent. Dead. A chill wound down her spine, and she wondered if this was some sort of omen.

Placing the lifeless thing back on her nightstand, she got more slowly to her feet, and pushed open the black-out curtains, her refuge from sunny cheerful days, and found herself looking out into yet another curtain of black, so complete that not even a single star showed its light. Her breath hissed out slowly. Night then. Maybe early morning. Did it matter?

She was reaching for her poncho before the question even really settled, so no, it didn't matter at all. She had to go find him. The red silk, over her school uniform, and as she turned, her gaze fell on the replacement she'd been fashioning, just… She wasn't really certain when. She couldn't get the hours straight. Her head still felt clouded. Had it really only been the night before?

"Priorities change." She noted to herself, surprised how light her own voice still sounded. She took the time to wrap up her work, to stow the needles and pins in their proper places, and then, with her wardrobe thrown wide, to gaze at the heavy roll of expensive silk Beetlejuice had given her, so recently. "In a day," She went on softly, touching the light fabric, "Everything changes."

Enough reverie. She turned back to the mirror, still half expecting to see him within, or perhaps now, to see Ginger. If she had someone to talk to, maybe she wouldn't be so eager to run off into what was undoubtedly a dangerous situation… Though that was probably just another attempt at self-delusion.

As she was about to say his name, pull herself to him, she paused suddenly, remembering that she in fact, shouldn't be in her room at all. She'd fallen asleep in the park rose garden… The only one who would have taken the time to bring her back here, to safety, was Beetlejuice. But the Beetlejuice she knew before, not now. Yet… Her heart gave a massive, swelling surge of hope, and her hands started trembling, at the idea that maybe he still remembered something…

Or maybe, maybe he'd even gotten his memory back, since the last time she'd seen him! His name fell from her lips hurriedly, stumbling over the familiar sounds, and she found herself again, yanked into the unfamiliar blackness, the emptiness that had no place in her call for the dangerous ghost… And even as she fell, so did her heart. If this hadn't changed, then no, she was suddenly certain he still didn't remember. But… He would, right? He had to.

The smell of thick smoke filled her senses, almost immediately, but only because it was the more intrusive of the two scents filling the air at the moment. The other was blood. For once, she'd summoned herself to not within ten feet of her best friend, who was currently leaning far into the space of a ghost who looked as if he'd recently been put back together once already. Possibly in a hurry. This ghost was the only one, other than herself, or Beetlejuice, currently still able to move.

Both ghosts were talking in low tones, or at least Beetlejuice was, from what she could see. The other, who didn't seem currently able to blink, much less form cohesive words, just stared, paler than even the dead should be. Lydia dared look away from the two, to turn her gaze around the room slowly. Death for the dead. Everywhere. It made her cold.

It was only when the other ghost noticed her presence behind the poltergeist, that Beetlejuice turned on his heel, fire blazing out of his fist in a twisted, blackened dancing. When he saw her, he frowned… Then smiled, put out the fire, and advanced with a purpose. Lydia didn't have time to shrink away, before he wrapped his still smoking arm around her shoulder, spinning her to be within sight of the unfortunate he'd just been addressing.

"See now, the girl here, she's got a hell of a lot more going for her than you'd think." He informed the ghost casually, as if he were simply introducing her to a long held acquaintance. "She managed, without a memory in my head of the little broad, to not only talk me out of killing her when she called me, but also, to figure out why the hell I couldn't remember her."

This of course, was not quite the way Lydia remembered it, but considering the situation, now probably wasn't a good time to argue. "Presumably though," He added, flashing a grin that revealed every pointed tooth, "The kid's had some experience with that first part… She had to convince me not to kill her the first time we met too, right?"

And this having been said, he turned to her with what could be called nothing less than curiosity, to all appearances forgetting the guy he'd been busy threatening when she came in. "Now how the hell," He prodded, with just a trace of amusement, "Do you keep finding me? And in the neitherworld, no less?"

"Um, your name." She murmured softly, not wanting the other ghost to overhear.

Beetlejuice's eyebrows flew up. "Come again?" Now he seemed more thoughtful than curious, as if this was simply a power he hadn't known his name held before. "You got here by saying my name? Now how does that work?"

"If I say your name three times," She explained, still in the same quiet tone, "And I want you to come to that world, you come to me. If I say your name three times, and I want to come to this world, I come to you."

Beetlejuice's lips were pursed thoughtfully, as he considered her with the air of someone accustomed to being lied to. Then he just made a small sound, a sort of huh, and turned back to the ghost he'd previously been addressing. "Go figure, now she's rewriting the rules and everything."

"Now!" He released her, and walked back over to the other, who still hadn't so much as twitched. "You can see, can't you, that the kid's still alive, right? Pulse, and everything. So whoever pulled this shit, seriously underestimated her. What's more, they flat out fucking failed. So much for retribution."

Pausing for breath, he leaned a little closer, adding in a lower voice, "Now, if you're not getting any revenge out of this, you might ask yourself what you are getting." A brief wave of his hand, indicating the various dead around them, was most likely intended to answer that question, but for the sake of getting his point across with no misinterpretations, he went on anyway. "You? Anyone you're involved with? Anyone involved with anything in the neitherworld? They get a little visit from me, one at a time, until I get the answers I want."

"To make it clearer, politicians, crime bosses, royalty… If they don't find out what I want to know, they're all going to get a second visit from the grim reaper, and there ain't no neitherworld waiting after this one. Got it?" Beetlejuice reached out, patted his cheek with blood stained hands, and all the guy could do was whimper. "Good. Knew you'd understand. You seem like an intelligent guy… That's why you're the one still dead, and not dead-dead. And why he's," He pointed over his shoulder, presumably at the ghost's partner, "Just plain dead."

Great doing business with you." He drew away, straightened his sleeves, and with a flick of his fingers, banished the blood and fire damage from his suit, winking at Lydia. "No need to make a scene on the street, right doll? Come on, lets blow this place."

Hooking his arm through hers, he led her from the room without further ado, making the living girl just sort of drift along in his wake, once more shaken to her core, and oddly numb. She did her best just to look at him, which just seemed to amuse the ghost. After a moment though, she looked away. She felt like she was with a stranger, wearing her best friend's face. The thing was, this was really who he'd been all along. She really didn't know how to feel about that. Who was he protecting… Me, or him?

"You know who I oughta be paying a visit to," Beetlejuice interjected suddenly, "Prince Vince. If there's one guy in the neitherworld to have the pull to find out what I want… Hell, maybe he's the fucker that did it. I wouldn't put it past him…"

Lydia blinked in surprise, before turning her eyes to him again. "Um, you killed Prince Vince." She murmured softly, again not wanting anyone to hear. Not that there was anyone to hear. Beetlejuice stopped, flat out, and stared at her in disbelief. "Years ago," She went on, a little more strongly, "When he tried to exorcise you, and marry me."

"Years ago, huh? He made a thoughtful sound with his tongue. "That would have made you… What? I don't even know. A kid, right? Why the hell would he wanna marry a kid?" He shook his head, completely ignoring the part about his attempted exorcism, and started walking again, before he stopped suddenly in his tracks, and started cursing profusely.

"What is it?" Lydia asked in alarm, starting to draw away.

But Beetlejuice just snagged her back, grinning, even as he continued to swear for upwards of thirty seconds, before apparently running out of things to say. "Damn it, Lydia! Don't you get it? That had to be the biggest damn mark I've ever made, killing the heir apparent of the neitherworld, and I can't even fucking remember it!" But that said, rather than looking angry, he started laughing, leading her forward again. "Shit, I wonder what else I can't remember…?"

Nice that it was amusing to him, but… "Well, when you find your memories," She said quietly, looking hopefully at her ring again, "I guess you'll know." But Beetlejuice's only answer was to give her a long look, his lips curled in amusement. He didn't say a word.

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