This is it. Just this chapter and the next one. Then this story will be over. I can't believe how quickly this story has gone (the last long story I finished took about four years to write). Most of the exciting stuff is already taken care of by this point. I'm just wrapping up loose ends and dealing with the fallout of all the chaos. But I hope you'll like what little is left to this story.
Last night's events are still not completely clear. While many people saw a Ghost Shield cover the city for a short period of time and there was certainly a ghost fight outside of the structure at one point, there is less information to explain the wide spread reports of the population falling unconscious with no memories of the cause. No one can remember or explain what exactly occurred and we are still trying to determine the extent of the effect. People far outside the city limits of Amity Park are reporting similar experiences. The current working theory is that ghosts were the cause. Furthermore, the Fentons have not claimed responsibility for the activation of the Ghost Shield that temporarily stretched over the town. We will provide more information as it becomes available.
-Except from "The Amity Park Gazette"
Danny wasn't exactly sure what the figures of intense light were supposed to be. They didn't activate his Ghost Sense, so they weren't ghosts from the Ghost Zone. They weren't ectoplasm-based. Beyond that, Danny didn't have much to work with. They were bright, mysterious, and after the weird knife and necklace. He honestly couldn't tell if the trio of glowing figures was on their side or enemies.
What Danny knew for certain was that when the one on the left moved close enough to loom over the silent and still poltergeist, it sparked an angry and protective reaction from the dark-haired girl. Lydia leaned over Betelgeuse further and glared venomously, not even flinching in the face of the intense glow.
"Leave him alone," snapped Lydia. "I won't let you hurt Beej."
The center figure of light said gently, "We do not intend to harm the ghost nor anyone who is present. That is not why we are here, young child."
The glowing shape on the right added, "There is little we could do to harm him further even if we sought to accomplish such an action. The damage is already in place and cannot be truly worsened. And he cannot repair what he has suffered. His time is limited."
That response was enough to turn Lydia's glare from the figure next to Betelgeuse to the one speaking. And fear edged back into her expression. Considering what they were saying, Danny didn't blame her. It sounded like the glowing figures were stating that it was too late and Betelgeuse was doomed. They were saying the attempts to save him from the necklace failed and he was beyond help. Danny barely knew the poltergeist and he felt awful about it. The boy couldn't even imagine how it felt for Lydia.
"Then…," said Lydia, her voice cracking and wavering. Swallowing hard, she continued, "Then what are you doing? What are you doing to him?"
"We are simply offering a choice to a lost soul," answered the center figure.
"I didn't hear anything," Tucker said suspiciously, grabbing the dropped knife from the ground.
"He hears what he needs to within his mind. Nothing would be accomplished by this point by speaking aloud and you do not need to know the choice he faces. It is his choice alone," said the right figure of intense light.
Holding the duct tape-wrapped necklace close, Sam asked, "Is there anything we can do to save him? Or can you do help him? Maybe we can trade the necklace and knife to you guys to help fix him?"
"Can you save Beej?" asked Lydia, the other girl's questions fanning a few embers of hope. "I'll do whatever you want. Please?"
"We can help him to avoid his current fate of the complete destruction of his existence. Whether or not the help takes the form you wish is more uncertain. If and how we may help him depends upon his choice. We cannot infringe on anyone's free will. We may decide how much power a soul might wield upon their death, whether they should originate in the Netherworld or the Ghost Zone, and even if they should spent time as a ghost at all. Those are tasks we regularly perform, though we are not the only ones. But we never hinder or influence their free will. He always has a choice."
Danny felt like when he talked to Clockwork. He was facing a group who were ancient, very knowledgeable, and unable to act directly in most cases. Not to mention that they tend to focus mostly on long-term consequences. And the important thing to remember was that vague and cryptic statements could have different meanings and that such beings weren't always what they seem. What they called "help" for Betelgeuse may or may not be what other people would consider helpful.
Briefly, Danny wondered if they had anything to do with deciding that he became half ghost. If they were at least partially responsible for deciding who became a ghost and how strong of one, it might be possible. Most people would probably be killed in that type of lab accident rather than gaining ghost powers. Could they be involved in that? Did they ensure he'd survive? Or maybe Clockwork did something or asked them to do something. There were too many complicated and powerful beings in his life and these kinds of questions were giving Danny a headache. This was not the sort of stuff most teenagers needed to think about regularly.
"What exactly is the choice in question?" he asked, trying to turn his focus back towards the more important topic. "What are you offering him?"
The glowing figure kneeling over the motionless poltergeist finally spoke again, breaking the silence it adopted since drawing near Betelgeuse. The voice sounded mildly impressed and pleased.
"He has made his choice. He rejects what we offered."
"What? What do you mean he doesn't want help?" asked Tucker. "Is he crazy?"
"Beej…," Lydia said quietly.
The figure of light abruptly moved, a limb reaching out to touch Betelgeuse's chest. Lydia flinched at the sudden movement towards the ghost she was protecting. Danny saw her try swatting the bright shape away, but her arm froze before she could touch the ancient being.
"He did not choose to move on to a better place and finally end his wandering. He chose differently," continued the figure of light. "Betelgeuse, son of Remfrey and Elinor. Heal."
While the figures of light were bright before, the one near the poltergeist became blinding. Danny staggered back as more light flared up, centered on the ghost. When his vision began to clear, he saw Lydia rubbing her eyes desperately with one hand while the other held tightly to the striped jacket.
"He chose to stay. At the risk of oblivion, he chose to stay. So we ensured he will survive and stay. His strength will return with rest, but the damage has been repaired," said the bright figure, pulling away to rejoin the others.
Lydia choked out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, staring down at the poltergeist. Even Danny could see a visible improvement to Betelgeuse's appearance from a moment before. While still unconscious, he looked back to what he normally did. He seemed less faded and worn away. He looked more solid and less… empty. Danny could believe that they'd actually fixed the damage the necklace caused.
"Thank you," whispered Lydia, placing her other hand gently on Betelgeuse's shoulder. "Thank you." Glancing towards Sam and Tucker, she said, "I think we should give them the knife and the Gem of Osiris. We don't need the things, they helped Beej, and it would be better to get rid of them. It's better than letting Aunt Melinda get them back."
Neither immediately moved, looking towards Danny for his support. He hesitated a moment before nodding. Sam then tossed the duct tape wad towards the closest bright figure. Tucker was more cautious. He stretched out his arm, holding the blade toward them while cringing. One of the figures of light calmly took it from the teenage boy, making him stumble back out of reach the instant he was done.
"You guys might be helping a little, but you're still a bunch of creepy glowing guys," said Tucker apologetically. "And as a normal and powerless human, you kind of make me nervous."
"We understand your unease, but do not be afraid. Our purpose here is complete," said the figure not holding anything. "We are grateful for your actions and decisions to ensure events proceeded in positive direction."
The light that surrounded and engulfed the figures flared up, nearly blinding in its intensity. It left dots across his vision for several moments. By the time Danny could see again, the trio were gone without a trace. He wished that this was the weirdest thing he'd ever experienced, but it didn't even make the top ten list.
"Good. They're gone."
Danny jumped a little at the unexpected voice of another arrival. He'd had a rough night, he felt pretty battered from his rather one-sided fight against Betelgeuse, and he was still a little on edge. Some caution was natural.
But when he recognized her as Juno, he allowed himself to relax again. She wasn't a threat. Grumpy, but not dangerous. Though he did wonder how long she'd been watching.
The ghost woman looked over the group critically, her expression softening a fraction as her eyes paused briefly on the unconscious poltergeist. Once she seemed mildly satisfied with what she saw, she gave them a short nod.
"They rarely get involved directly in anything and I really prefer them staying that way, but the upper management does an impressive job when they decide to lend a hand," said Juno. "Looks like they patched the idiot back together properly."
Danny could see Lydia's relief at the confirmation that Betelgeuse would be all right. She'd clearly had at least a few doubts that the strangers were truthful, but she trusted the ghost woman to be honest. Her friend would survive.
Juno continued, "I should have known he'd end up in trouble, but everything apparently worked out with no one alive getting killed and everyone dead staying that way. Except for Sanduleak. But he would have ended up in the Lost Souls Room regardless. And the Gem of Osiris is gone, out of the hands of the living and the dead. So it clearly wasn't a complete disaster."
"But where is everyone?" Sam asked. "I know it's the middle of the night, but there should be at least a little traffic. But there's nothing."
She shrugged, "Transformations can be rough on the living and he was throwing around a lot of power at them. Give them a little time to sleep off the effects and they'll wake up with a headache and only vague memories they'll blame on dreams."
"That's convenient. Amity Park's already dealt with enough weirdness. They don't need to worry about more," said Tucker.
"How cute. You think it was only your little town. But regardless, it makes my job easier," Juno said, twisting her cigarette between her fingers. "Now, I suppose I better get out of here before those ghost-hunting parents show up in that oversized RV."
Cringing slightly at the mental image of his family spending time with Juno, Danny said, "Sorry about them."
"I've dealt with far worse." She turned towards where Lydia still leaned protectively over Betelgeuse and said gently, "Ms. Deetz, while I know you've been keeping an eye on the immature child of a poltergeist, I have a feeling you're going to be busy for the foreseeable future with everything. There's a couch back in my office I can drop him on and let him sleep while recovering. I can keep watch over him until he's back to his old, troublesome self."
Briefly, Lydia looked divided. From the way her fingers were still clutching his striped jacket like she was afraid he would disappear, she didn't want her best friend out of her sight. On the other, she also appeared exhausted both physically and emotionally.
But it didn't take more than a moment or two for relief to take precedent. Danny held no doubts that the girl would do a great job of taking care of Betelgeuse if necessary, but Juno was right. Considering that her aunt started this entire mess and probably put those new bruises on Lydia's throat, the girl's immediate future would complicated and stressful. Having Juno take responsibility for Betelgeuse for a while would give Lydia one less issue to worry about.
"Thanks, Juno," said Lydia. "You'll let me know when he wakes up, right?"
"After I explain to him why he's not supposed to touch objects he's specifically told not to," she said. "And maybe some general scolding like the idiotic, childish, crazy poltergeist deserves. We still haven't properly discussed the issue of him dragging the living through the Netherworld like it's his own personal theme park. Not to mention leaving the Waiting Room after I told him to stay. And I still haven't talked to him about the entire forced marriage to an underaged member of the living that started everything, though I might keep that discussion brief given the current circumstances."
Smiling slightly, she said, "You're welcome to lecture him if you want to try it. Just don't expect him to listen."
"I've known him for decades. I won't get my hopes up." Juno took another deep inhalation from her cigarette and blew a thick cloud of smoke, saying dryly, "I really don't get paid enough for this. Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse."
By the time cloud of smoke dissipated, both the ghost woman and the poltergeist were unsurprisingly gone. Lydia's entire posture slumped instantly. It was easy to see how the weight of the entire evening and probably the events of the last few days affected her. She deserved a break.
Danny felt pretty drained himself, letting his body shift back to human. He rolled his neck and shoulders stiffly. His battered body still felt rather bruised and beaten, even his faster healing not enough to make the damage instantly vanish. He'd probably be sore until the morning at a minimum. Maybe they could all sleep in and avoid school. For a week. Convincing his parents to let him skip again might be tricky, but he was willing to try.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the RV came screeching up the road and skidded to halt by the curb in front of the school. Danny's parents piled out of the vehicle almost before it completely stopped and hurried to wrap their son in a tight hug.
Laughing slightly, Danny asked, "Are you going to do this every time I fight a ghost?"
Climbing out of the RV a little slower, Jazz said, "Probably. You better get used to it."
"Lydia, cupcake?" said a man that Danny didn't recognize, also stepping out of the vehicle.
Danny saw her grow tense at the voice. She climbed quickly to her feet, looking like she was about to take off running. Danny wiggled his way out of his family's group hug while Tucker and Sam edged closer to her. They'd helped her with her crazy aunt; they wouldn't abandon the girl now.
"Uncle Roger," Lydia said, her voice annoyed and a little sharp. "What do you want?"
The man's gaze moved over the Goth teenager, pausing briefly on her red spider web-patterned poncho, the forming bruises around her throat, and the bandages around her head. His expression looked very regretful and guilt-stricken.
"Did my dearest Melinda do that to you?" he asked quietly.
Lydia's eyebrows rose in response, clearly surprised by the question. She shifted awkwardly, rubbing her arms as she glanced towards the ground momentarily.
"The head injury isn't directly her fault," she said carefully. "But she did try to strangle me to death because I wouldn't let her commit genocide."
Roger's expression became horrified and Danny's parents looked similarly distraught. And his parents also seemed a little murderous at the idea of trying to harm a family member. The man shook his head slowly.
"I'm sorry, sweet Lydia. I let my love for her blind me. I should have seen what was happening to her. I should have found a way to help her before she lost her way so badly."
"I told you," said Jazz. 'You're not responsible for the decisions your wife makes. You're only responsible for yourself."
"Then I suppose it is time to make the right and responsible choice," he said.
Waking up with a splitting headache, Melinda quickly discovered she couldn't move. Her memories of how she ended up in that situation were a little fuzzy. Her face was buried in a pile of her family's various artifacts, which suggested she was in the van. Her hands and feet, however, were tightly bound. The woman started struggling and wiggling, but she couldn't notice much progress.
Melinda wasn't certain how long she was alone in the van, fighting to break free. Eventually she heard someone moving around outside. They started messing with the back door. She realized with a flicker of relief that someone was coming to rescue her.
Good. Once she was freed, she could get back on track to completing her previous plan. Or at least trying to salvage what she could in order to try again.
The door opened and a man's voice said, "Melinda Livingston?"
"Yes," she said in relief. "Please help me get loose."
Strong hands pulled her into a sitting position and she saw that her rescuers were a pair of police officers. Melinda could also see that her wrists and ankles were tightly wrapped in duct tape. No wonder she couldn't wiggle out of the bindings.
"Mrs. Livingston, your husband asked us to come get you," said one of the police officers, his hair darker than his partner. He reached down to start freeing her ankles and continued, "He seemed concerned about you."
"I'm fine. I just need to get back to the task at hand."
"Yes, he said you were the one who wanted to put that Ghost Shield up over the town, right? The one that looks like the Fentons' invention?"
She nodded and said, "That's correct. I needed it to make everything better. I would have already finished, but that traitor just couldn't stay out of it."
Melinda's voice shifted from her usual sweet tone to something more vicious as she thought about Lydia. She couldn't help it. The girl kept choosing ghosts. She refused to accept the truth. The girl wouldn't do what Melinda wanted. She was as bad as the ghosts and Lydia should share their destruction. It would serve the traitor right. Cathy's daughter was practically a ghost already.
"And by traitor, do you mean your niece, Lydia Deetz?" asked the second officer, his hair a light shade of blond.
"Yes, her," she snapped. "She just won't stay out of the way and let me fix everything."
Moving on to the duct tape on her wrists, the dark-haired cop said neutrally, "We heard. She tried to talk to you while you were busy with a 'magic ritual using an ancient necklace' meant to 'destroy all ghosts,' correct?"
"Exactly. The world will be perfect once they're gone," Melinda said, happy someone finally understood. "That's what I want. But she tried to stop me. She just wouldn't listen to me."
"So you tried to strangle your niece?" said the blond police officer casually.
"She made her choice, so I had to get rid of her. And I would have succeeded and finished off the ghosts too, but something interrupted."
Melinda still wasn't sure what stopped her. Her best guess was the other teenagers, but she couldn't figure out what they hit her with. But it didn't matter. Next time, she would be prepared for them. Once she got her necklace and knife back from wherever that one ghost took them, Melinda would start over again. She'd figure out a better way to deal with those interruptions the next time around. She could do it. She would get rid of the ghosts.
"I see," said the dark-haired police officer as the last of the duct tape came off.
Melinda accepted the offered help to climb out of the back of the van. What she didn't expect was for the two men to then force her arms behind her back and attach a pair of handcuffs.
"Melinda Livingston, you're under arrest for the attempted murder of your niece, Lydia Deetz," said the dark-haired cop.
The blond police officer continued, "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"
"I understand what you're saying, but I don't see why you're so upset with me," she said, honestly confused. Shouldn't the population of a city as haunted as Amity Park realize how important her actions were? "I had to try and kill her. She wouldn't listen to me. It was for the greater good. Besides, she's practically a ghost already."
"Mrs. Livingston, you might want to exercise that right to remain silent," said the dark-haired cop.
She shook her head in frustration, but stopped talking. It was just a misunderstanding. She was certain she and Roger would be able to sort out the entire mess in no time.
Talking to the police and giving her (mildly abbreviated) statement concerning Aunt Melinda's murder attempt took the rest of the night. She still couldn't believe Uncle Roger took her side and helped put the woman behind bars. She didn't think the man had the spine or brain power for such a thing. But that didn't mean Lydia wanted to go home with him. She still remembered him holding her back as his wife tried to exorcise Betelgeuse. And even though they mentioned contacting social services and "finding somewhere for the poor child to stay," she managed to more or less convince the authorities she was old enough to take care of herself and that she had somewhere to stay. She knew things would be chaotic for the next few days, but Lydia was thankful to finally crawl her way back to the Fenton household just as the sun began to peek over the horizon.
Maddie and Jack Fenton did their best to welcome and cheer her up when she arrived, but Lydia didn't really want to deal with people. She was tired and done. As soon as she could politely get away from them, she headed up to Jazz's room. Everyone else managed to get some sleep since they didn't spend hours at the police station, so the other teenagers were forced to head to school. That mean she had the room to herself for a while. She was alone.
Lydia sat on the edge of the older girl's bed. She finally had a little time and privacy, so she let the events of the last couple of weeks wash over her. With the door closed and the teenager curling up into a ball, Lydia broke into quiet sobs.
She cried for the deaths of her father and step-mother, the losses making her chest ache. She cried over the separation from her ghost godparents, missing their comforting presences. She cried from the fury and hatred for her aunt, the fear from almost dying multiple times in the last few days, and the stress from everything. She cried with relief that her best friend would be all right after almost losing him. And she cried over how awful, frustrated, and tired she felt.
Lydia cried for several minutes straight, keeping her sobs as quiet as possible. But before long, she ran out of tears and slowly shuddered to a stop. She felt a lot calmer than before, the crying actually feeling rather cleansing. It certainly helped with the knot of emotions she'd been trying to keep at bay for so long. It wasn't quite as good as having Adam and Barbara with her, but it would have to do for the moment.
Sniffling a little, Lydia rubbed the fabric of her poncho between her fingers while she held the ring tightly in her other hand. Everything was all right. She would be sad for while, but she would get through this. She wasn't alone. Not really. She would heal and get through this. She could handle it.
Finally worn out completely, she crawled her way over to the pillow. Kicking off her shoes, Lydia let sleep swallow her up.
Danny felt like a zombie by the time he made it home. Even after snagging a few hours of sleep after Lydia headed towards the police station with her uncle, he barely survived his classes. But it wasn't like he could keep skipping school apparently. His parents didn't want his grades to suffer more than usual. At least Mr. Lance was used to him nodding off at his desk.
He did, however, have something on his mind. Now that the current crisis had passed, Danny didn't have any real excuses left. He needed to talk to his parents. He needed to tell them the rest of the story. No more secrets. No more lies. They wouldn't be happy with what he needed to tell them, but it would be for the best.
At least that's what he told himself as he shuffled through the front door.
"Mom?" he called. "Dad?"
"We're in the kitchen, Danny," his mother called back. "Try to keep it down. I think Lydia is still trying to sleep a little."
He remembered that she didn't actually make it back from the police station until he was heading out the door for school. No one made her go to class that day. He didn't begrudge her, though. Rumors of her aunt being hauled in by the police were already sweeping through the halls. Some of the students were trying to guess why, but no one was even close so far.
"Hey, I have something to tell you," he said as he entered the kitchen and sat down at the table. "And I need you to listen to me all the way through before you start asking questions or anything."
He saw his parents exchange looks. They were probably trying to figure out what new, mind-shattering news he intended to share now. After all, he'd already sprung a lot of surprises on them. Hopefully they could survive one more.
"What is it?" asked his father.
Shifting a little nervously in his chair, Danny began carefully, "Well, you guys remember Vlad Masters, right?"
One more chapter. One more chapter and the story will be complete. We've come a long way and I am very thankful to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I never expected very many people to give it a chance. Crossover stories rarely get as much traffic, after all. But you've stuck by me through this entire tale. Now let's see if you'll stay with me as we head into the finale.
Remember, reviews are nice and I always appreciate them. I love hearing feedback on this and all stories I write. Thanks.