I'm glad to see how much everyone is enjoying this so far. I've received some rather nice comments from people who are impressed by the idea of combining these two fandoms. I'm surprised myself how well this is turning out. Hopefully I can keep up the quality.
Things are going better than when we first moved to Winter River. Delia's new sculptures are popular, so we're apparently making a lot of money from them. I think getting rid of that jerk agent helped. Dad is a lot less stressed out and no longer trying to turn the town into some kind of tourist trap. And both of them aren't as… I can get along with them better now.
Barbara and Adam are amazing. They're so happy that my parents changed part of the house back for them. And they've really been helping with my studying, so my grades are up. Which means that we get to play with their ghost powers as a reward. And the two of them seem to understand me and I feel so appreciated. Honestly, it's like having two sets of parents.
Outside of the house, things are still a little weird. Making friends at school is kind of harder. They just don't understand. It was hard enough in New York, but that was before I found out about ghosts and everything. No one at school would believe me if I told them about… And that makes it harder.
They're talking about makeup or shopping while I'm trying not to talk about how my house is haunted. They're talking about boys at the other school across town while I was almost married to a dead guy named Beetlejuice. They're talking about how much their parents annoy them while I… Okay, I can kind of relate to that one. But mostly, finding common ground is kind of hard. At least some of them like my photographs.
Things are better than they used to be. I don't think I'll be plummeting off any bridges in the near future. Still, it seems like I get along better with the dead than the living.
That's not how you spell my name, Lyds.
I wrote this over a month ago. Stop reading and scribbling in my journal or else!
-Excerpt from "Lydia Deetz' Journal"
"You sure this is the right address?" asked Sam, holding her cell phone with one hand as she cautiously knocked with the other.
"Don't insult my hacking skills," Tucker scolded cheerfully, the tapping of computer keys easily heard over the speaker. "The school's firewall isn't that impressive. Anything else I can do to help?"
"Unless you think she'll start a website to spill Danny's secret on the internet, I think we can handle it," she said. "Once we at least check on her, I think she'll keep quiet until at we can talk to her properly tomorrow."
"I hope so," he muttered. "I guess I should go back to 'adjusting' my grades. Be careful. Call me if you or Danny need me. Bye."
Sam managed to hang up right as someone answered the door. The dark-haired woman, dressed in white suit worthy of belonging to the Guys In White, stood there with a welcoming smile. Of course, her rather impressive-looking green-gemmed necklace and lack of sunglasses wouldn't exactly fit in with their strict dress code, so Sam mentally labeled the woman as another "Gregor"-like coincidence. Still, it was almost as sharp a contrast in fashion tastes between the woman and Lydia as it was between Sam and her pastel-loving parents.
"Uh… Mrs. Deetz?" the girl asked cautiously.
"No, that would be my late sister, Catherine. She's been dead for years," said the woman. "You're probably looking for Lydia. I'm Melinda Livingston, her aunt."
Reaching out politely to shake her hand, Sam said, "Nice to meet you. I'm Sam Manson. I go to school with Lydia. Is she here?"
"The darling isn't, I'm afraid. But you're welcome to wait inside if you like," she remarked. "I'm sure she'll be home soon."
Sam nodded and let herself be led into the woman's house. The smell of fresh paint and the piles of boxes lining the halls added evidence about their recent arrival to the city. There was a small foyer that quickly narrowed into a hallway that ran alongside the stairs. A few of the smaller boxes were waiting on the staircase, one that probably led to the bedrooms. There was a room behind a closed door that branched off the hallway, another room on the other side of the hall that probably a living room or study, and yet another room at the end of the hall that Sam guessed was the kitchen. That layout of the house was fairly standard in the neighborhood. The woman brought the teenager to what was apparently the living room and indicated she should take a seat.
It was a nice enough space. Dark green walls with white trim, creamy white couches, and hardwood floors, the room was clearly further along than the rest of the house in regards to moving in. Except for a single box in the corner, everything seemed to be decorated and ready to live in. There were even books on the shelves and photographs on the walls and on side tables.
"I'm so happy that my Lydia darling is making some nice and normal friends at her new school," Melinda said. "I think someone like you will do her a world of good."
Wondering what kind of friends Lydia had prior that would make the Goth girl who showed up unannounced after dark seem like a "normal friend," Sam struggled to come up with something resembling small talk. The sugary, cheerful, bright personality reminded her far too much of her mother. And that made her feel like making a snarky comment, which wasn't exactly the first impression she was hoping for. She needed to avoid being thrown out before Lydia returned.
"Melinda, I didn't know we had company," interrupted a man, peering into the room.
He was a wiry man, approximately the same age as the woman. He wasn't overly tall, but he was reasonably handsome. His light-brown hair was neatly combed and his blue polo shirt was tucked into his khaki pants. The first word that popped into Sam's mind was "dork."
"This is Sam, Roger," said Melinda cheerfully. "She's a friend of Lydia's from school. How about you fetch us some lemonade, sweetie?"
"Whatever makes you happy, dearest," he nodded. "I'll take care of it."
"Um… thanks?" Sam said awkwardly as he vanished towards the kitchen.
Turning her attention back to the woman, the teenager finally found something to use as small talk. Sam reached over and picked up a picture frame from the side table. There were three figures in the photograph, all of them children. All three possessed black hair and were a little on the pale side, though the boy seemed especially pale and sickly. He was the youngest, appearing to be around six or seven, while the girls looked closer to ten or twelve. It was clearly a professional photograph, the children standing carefully posed and polite. The girls were in dresses, one white and one navy, while the boy wore a small dress shirt and pants. The background was outdoors somewhere, right in front of a tree. Sam studied the picture, noticing a few familiar features.
"So the girl in white is you?" she commented casually.
Reaching over to take the photo, Melinda gave it a look and said, "Yes, that's me and my siblings. That's Catherine, Lydia's mother, in the blue dress. And that's our little brother, Freddy." She smiled wistfully, "We were so happy back then. Mother and Father were teaching all of us the family business, though they were a little traditional and focused more on Little Freddy. But all good things come to an end. Freddy grew up to be greedy, became desperate for more attention than what he thought our parents were providing, started taking risks, and ended up in a lot of trouble. And our Cathy… She married Charles and we never heard from her again. She wanted nothing to do with us. I wish we could have reconciled before her death, that she could have stood beside me as sisters as we took on all challengers... But at least I have the chance to build a relationship with her daughter and guide the girl toward the right decisions in life."
"I'm sorry," she said awkwardly. "I guess every family has their problems."
Before someone was forced to start commenting on the weather, Sam heard the front door open. The teen was deeply thankful for that. Melinda clearly also heard the door and sat up a little straighter.
"Lydia, darling, please come to the living room," the woman called.
It took a few moments, long enough for Sam to realize she was moving particularly slow and reluctantly, before Lydia reached the doorway. First she directed a death glare towards her aunt, but then Lydia seemed to notice that Sam was in the room and her expression shifted to one of surprise.
"Darling, your nice friend decided to pay a visit," Melinda greeted cheerfully. "Isn't that nice of her?"
"Hi, Sam," said Lydia quietly, purposefully ignoring her aunt. "I guess you still want to talk?"
"It would be nice," she admitted.
"Come on up to my room, then," she said.
Thankful for the chance to get away from Lydia's sugary sweet aunt, Sam practically bolted from her seat. The teenage girls scurried their way towards the sanctity of the upstairs bedroom. But Sam's hand barely brushed against the banister before a voice tried to interrupt their escape.
"Don't you girls want some lemonade? I made it fresh," said Roger, carrying the large pitcher with him.
"No," Lydia said firmly. "Go see if Aunt Melinda has an original thought for you to use. I think you're overdue."
Before it became clear how the man would respond, Sam found herself being dragged away. Having survived the awkward small talk portion of the evening, she prepared for the next challenge.
Sanduleak wasn't the strongest or most skilled poltergeist to ever skulk around the Netherworld, but he knew who could be bribed, who could be threatened, and who could be tricked. He'd learned that quickly enough. Since he needed information to find the Mortal Bride, the ghost went to the main source of knowledge: paperwork. A veiled threat whispered into the ear of a hanged man and he received a file about the girl. Even if she was among the living, she was tangled up enough with the deceased to warrant those in power recording a little information. The paperwork, describing her connection to the Maitland ghosts and her current status, was updated recently with a new address. And with that knowledge, he knew how to track the Mortal Bride.
Getting to her was the challenge. Sanduleak didn't share the same limitations as the self-proclaimed Ghost With the Most. His name didn't need to be repeated thrice. He wasn't bound to it, unable to cross between without it. Sanduleak wasn't him. He possessed different limitations, slightly less troublesome ones overall.
Still, without a proper haunting territory and no established door to use, he would have some issues getting out. Flying blindly through the Ghost Zone while hoping to find a portal, depending solely on luck, seemed foolish and time consuming. He had a slightly more sensible strategy in mind. Calling on an old favor, he arranged for a lovely lady with a taste for poisonous mushrooms to setup a door connecting to the city. The doors were intended for ghosts moving between the Netherworld and their personal haunting territory, but she agreed to make an exception and to be careful not to be noticed. It would take a day or two to arrange, but it would be faster than other methods.
He'd still need to work around his own limitations, but Sanduleak felt confident he could manage it. He wasn't as hampered and bound as the infamous Ghost With the Most. It would barely slow him down. It would merely mean he'd have to time things properly.
His plan was coming together nicely. There was no possible chance that Sanduleak's fellow poltergeist would have a better one. He would just charge ahead without organizing or considering how to reach her. But Sanduleak fully intended for the Mortal Bride to be gone before the week was over, long before the Ghost With the Most could reach her.
This time, Lydia both locked the door and shoved her boxes over to barricade the entrance. She didn't want to risk an interruption by the relatives. Hopefully Sam wouldn't be upset about being trapped in the room. After Lydia's emotional rant, the other girl probably thought she was crazy and possibly dangerous. Lydia wouldn't blame her if she was nervous about being locked inside with her.
She wasn't particularly comfortable with the situation either. Lydia knew she shouldn't have let her temper run away like that. It felt nice briefly to have an outlet for her emotions, but afterwards… She shouldn't have made a scene like that. She'd always held a flair for the dramatic, but loud and flashier reactions to events were more of his specialty. She just couldn't help herself.
However, there would be time for regrets and concerns about how she behaved later. Right now she needed to relax and address the bigger issue. Lydia reached up and pulled out the ponytail holder, letting her hair down. Just that one little action helped a little of her stress evaporate. Then, once she was as casual as she could manage, she looked towards the other girl with an apologetic expression.
"I shouldn't have yelled at the Fentons and run out like that," she said quietly. "I'm not usually like that. I'm sorry."
She shrugged, "We'll survive. Compared to some of the things that happen in that household, that was pretty dull. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Mostly," she said. After a moment, Lydia continued, "I guess Danny's parents really have no idea. How does he live with them in the same household without his parents, a bunch of ghost hunters, noticing?"
"They aren't great at their job."
"And how does he handle their feelings about ghosts?"
After a brief hesitation, Sam answered, "Some days are easier than others."
Lydia tilted her head slightly and asked, "How exactly does a ghost manage to convince the rest of the town that he's still among the living?"
"He still is alive. Mostly. He's only half ghost."
Her jaw dropped at that particular declaration. She knew that ectoplasm-based ghosts were weird, but this was really pushing it. How was it even possible? Ideas of ghosts and living human marriages, so similar to the one she nearly experienced, flickered through her mind as an absurd explanation. The entire thing sounded insane.
Of course, she had a very different definition of insane than most people. It kind of came with the territory.
"Well," Lydia said slowly, "neither of his parents looked like ghosts, so I have to wonder what they aren't telling him about…"
"No, nothing like that," interrupted Sam, waving her hands in horror. "There was an accident with the portal and it changed him. Now he can switch between being mostly human and being mostly like a ghost."
She nodded, "That makes a lot more sense."
"Great. Now, do you think you can fill in a few blanks for us? We're trusting you with a pretty big secret and we barely know anything about you," Sam said carefully. "You said your old house was haunted and you keep implying that the ghosts around here are different than the ones you've seen before. How so?"
Trying to remember when she read, Lydia explained, "They come from different places, have different abilities, and are made of different things. Your ghosts come from the Ghost Zone, have cooler powers usually, and are made of ectoplasm. My ghosts come from the Netherworld, have fewer and usually weaker powers, and are made of…" She trailed off, trying to think. "I'm not sure what they're made of, actually. Souls? Memory? Psychic energy? I don't know. But whatever it is, the stuff is as different from ectoplasm as ectoplasm is from normal matter." Lydia ran a hand through her hair. "Based on the stuff in the Fenton's basement, the Ghost Zone ghosts are more science-based. Even if the science is different for ectoplasm. My ghosts have rules, limitations, and understandable patterns, but they seem more 'supernatural' or like something from old stories they tell around a campfire."
"That… actually makes a lot of sense," Sam said slowly. "Some of my older books, the ones that are practically ancient and about to fall apart, say things about ghosts that don't match what we've seen in action. Like how only some people can see them, ghosts showing the signs of their demise, and that they are trapped in one place and unable to move on."
"Yeah, that would be the Netherworld ghosts. Adam and Barbara can't set foot outside their home," she said quietly.
Obviously recognizing the wistful tone, Sam asked, "Were they the ghosts who haunted your old house? Adam and Barbara?"
Lydia reached under her bed and pulled out her large hat box. Under the false bottom of the hat box, she pulled out a clipped newspaper article she spent a lot of time hunting down. She didn't want to risk losing the small link to her family back in Connecticut, but she also knew that Aunt Melinda wasn't above invading her privacy and the girl needed to be careful about hiding important mementos.
Taking the offered piece of paper, Sam read it over. Then she looked back towards Lydia with an unreadable expression.
"Their obituary?"
Lydia nodded, "I wanted a picture of them and ghosts don't show up in photographs. Or at least they don't. Adam and Barbara Maitland died in a car accident before my family even moved to Winter River. They had plans. They wanted to fix up their house. Have kids. Dying when their car ran off a bridge wasn't what they had in mind when it came to the future. They weren't happy at first about people messing with their home, especially since Delia and Otho have a very unique style, but we eventually worked everything out." She smiled sadly, "They always liked me. I think it is partially because they never had kids of their own, but they also like me for just being… me. They are practically another set of parents."
"No wonder you didn't want to move away from there," said Sam. "Your aunt probably didn't even have a clue."
Falling back on the pillows of her bed, Lydia glared at the ceiling and muttered, "She knew. She definitely knew. She just didn't care."
"What do you mean?"
"Aunt Melinda knows about ghosts, but she hates them. I don't know why she would even want to move here in the first place. You'd think she'd be miserable in a town with so many ghosts," Lydia said. "I'd keep Danny away from her, just in case."
Leaning over where Lydia was flopped across the bed, Sam commented dryly, "You weren't here a few months ago, but almost everyone hated and feared Danny Phantom for quite a while. Not to mention he deals with his parents trying to catch him regularly. I'm sure he can handle your sickeningly sweet and cheerful aunt."
Lydia gave a bitter laugh and forced herself back upright. She understood why the other girl might believe that. It was pretty much the same reaction Lydia had when she first met the woman.
"She's more dangerous than she looks," she said. "Remember when I told you about my older, complicated, possessive best friend?"
"Your not-boyfriend?"
Smiling weakly at the description she'd used for him, Lydia nodded and said, "What I didn't mention was that he's dead. He's a ghost. The Maitlands tried to get him to help scare my family back near the beginning, but he went overboard. The rest is what I already explained, more or less. He ended up my friend even if Barbara and Adam aren't fond of him and I didn't tell Dad and Delia about him being back because they would have freaked out. He has a lot of faults, but he's got a few virtues buried deep down. My point is that he isn't a heartless monster." Her smile melted away as she continued, "That's why he didn't deserve what happened."
"What happened?" asked Sam quietly.
"With the right knowledge, intent, and words, you can do a lot to the ghosts from the Netherworld," she said. "Sometimes you need certain objects to make it work and the phrases aren't particularly common ones, but you can cause some real trouble. Summoning, binding of their powers and their actions, banishing, and even… exorcisms… There are instructions and warnings about the processes in a few books we used to have around the house. Aunt Melinda found the book, stole my journal for information, and decided to get rid of him."
Lydia glared at the door. She truly hated dealing with that woman downstairs. She was a horrible human being.
"I'm not even completely sure how she managed to pull it off. Maybe she researched it quickly or she already knew how to do it. Either way, she caught him and could have… could have killed him again. She wanted to. She even told me so. She wanted to exorcise him. But, claiming that she was being 'merciful' for my sake, she sent him away to where I can't reach him and vice versa. And somehow she even messed with my head in the process."
"What do you mean?" asked Sam hesitantly.
"He's my best friend, but now I can't even remember his name. She took that from me."
"How?"
"I don't know," Lydia admitted in frustration. "All I know is that any memory of his name is gone. And she kept my journal, which is the only place I might have written it down. And she also kept my family's copy of 'The Living and the Dead', which is the only place I can think of that might have an explanation for how she messed with my mind. So my point is that even if she's painfully sweet and cheerful, she's also devious and dangerous. Keep your friend away from her."
There was a brief silence, but Sam eventually broke it when she asked, "What are you going to do?"
The Goth girl closed her eyes. That was the real question. For all her determinations, her intentions to find her aunt's weakness, and her hopes to gather any potential assets, she didn't have much of an actual plan. As much as she hated to admit it, there wasn't a lot she could do. No matter how vile the woman might be, Aunt Melinda was still related and was still her legal guardian. And he was still gone. How was she supposed to change anything enough to make a difference?
"Look, I'm against oppression in general, which is exactly what your aunt is doing," said Sam slowly. "I'm also very supportive of rebelling against oppressive and cruel authority, so let's make a deal. You keep quiet about Danny's secret and maybe teach us more about ghosts from that Netherworld you mentioned and we'll help you do something about your aunt."
Lydia opened her eyes and stared at the girl. Part of her, the cynical part that lurked in the back of her mind for so long, worried about the offer.
Not that they would betray her. Lydia could tell a lot about a person and everything she'd heard and witnessed since she arrived in Amity Park suggested that Sam and her friends would try to help. Danny flew around the city like a half-ghost superhero, after all. If she kept her end of the bargain, which was very easy to accomplish, then they would honestly do everything in their power to help against her aunt. She was sure of it.
What she wasn't sure, however, was what the fallout would be. That cynical part of her worried that Aunt Melinda would realize the truth and might take action. Whether she chose to do something to the Maitlands or Danny, Lydia wouldn't be able to forgive herself.
But the rest of her, the part that wasn't as cynical and was far more hopeful, knew that she couldn't do it alone. She couldn't handle her Aunt Melinda alone. And if there were more people to help, maybe they could come up with an actual plan to use against the woman. If they were careful, it could work.
"I know I just met you, but I have to ask," said Lydia hesitantly. "Does Danny have one of those hero complex things? Where he's got to go charging in to save the day the moment he knows someone is in trouble?"
"Well, he usually tries to be a little more intelligent than that. Especially when fighting ghosts stronger than him," she said, not meeting the other girl's gaze. "But honestly… he can be a little impulsive sometimes. Usually he'll attack head on, getting knocked back, and then try to out-think the problem. But he is getting better at it."
And that ensured Lydia's decision. With someone like Aunt Melinda around, being impulsive wasn't an option. They needed to have a proper plan in place before they told the guy with ghost powers about her. Otherwise they could end up finding out if exorcisms worked on ectoplasm ghosts too.
"Don't tell him about my aunt or what she can do," Lydia said. "You can mention Adam and Barbara, the Netherworld, or anything else, but don't tell him about her yet."
"Why?" asked Sam, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
She spread her arms, pleading, "I don't want him to get hurt. If he charges in blindly or she even suspects something is wrong, Aunt Melinda could strike back. He could get banished or worse. Or she might try to teach me another lesson about how ghosts aren't people and deserve to be destroyed by doing something to the Maitlands. Don't tell him. At least wait to tell him until after we figure out how we're going to handle her. Please?"
There was a brief silence as the other girl seemed to think over her request. Lydia realized only after she spoke that if this was a movie, it was exactly the sort of thing a traitor would ask right before turning on all her friends and leading them into a trap. And anything that she might say to assure Sam of her honest desire to keep everyone safe would only make her sound more suspicious.
"Look, I'm not happy about the idea of keeping secrets from one of my best friends," Sam said slowly. "I mean, we keep secrets from everyone else, but not each other. But he's got a lot to worry about right now anyway… And we will tell him the minute we figure out a way to deal with your evil aunt."
"Of course," she replied quickly. "The moment we have a plan, we can tell him."
"And we're getting Tucker involved with this as soon as possible," she continued.
"Tucker knows about him too?"
Sam nodded, "And so does Danny's sister, Jazz. But my point is that we can keep this from Danny for a little while, but we aren't keeping everyone out of the loop. We won't tell Danny about your aunt, the fact she banished your ghost not-boyfriend, messed with your head so you can't remember his name, and even the fact she hates ghosts. There isn't much he'd be able to do about it at the moment anyway. But the instant that changes, the second we figure out how your aunt can do all of this and how to stop her, we tell him everything." She paused a moment, leaning forward with a stern look on her face, "But if you do anything to hurt my friends or betray my trust, I'm telling them everything and I'll kick you with my combat boots until you're black and blue. Got it?"
"Agreed," Lydia said without hesitation, understanding the impulse to protect those you care about very well. "And thank you."
She gave Lydia a small smile, "You're welcome. We Goth girls have to stick together. Especially when dealing with creepy cheerful relatives and ghostly friends."
They are so close to sharing the vital information with each other. So, so close. But neither of them think that what they know (Betelgeuse almost marrying Lydia, the Mortal Bride, the Ghost With the Most, etc.) is important enough to mention. And so neither of them realizes that they are dealing with the exact same problem from different angles.
Remember, reviews are always welcome and appreciated. I love feedback.