Sleeping Beetle

A Beetlejuice fan fiction by Lady Norbert

A/N: The responses to the last chapter delight me. Thank you all so much.

In messing with these two, Vasile has made what you might call... a grave error.

Chapter Thirteen: A Ray of Hope There Still May Be

If pressed for honesty, Lydia would (eventually) admit that she didn't necessarily do very well by herself. She was perfectly capable, of course; rather, she didn't altogether enjoy the sensation. She was not, she would hasten to add, anywhere near as bad as her husband in such a regard. After all, she didn't get twitchy as soon as he was farther away than across the house, nor was she prone to worry about him quite as much as he tended to worry about her.

That said, she understood why he worried. And when he vanished without a trace, she certainly found it more than a little disconcerting. He was her idiot, after all. She much preferred it when he was nearby.

"It just doesn't make sense," she murmured, mostly for the benefit of anyone watching. "He wouldn't leave, I don't care what Vasile says."

By day, of course, her foul host-slash-captor slept, probably in a coffin and definitely someplace where she couldn't find him. Lydia spent a lot of her waking hours wandering the castle, attempting to learn it properly and maybe figure out a way to escape. The major problem was that, as she and Beetlejuice had already worked out, the castle was doing its level best to keep her where she was. Moreover, it was apparently on a secondary mission to keep her disoriented.

The day after Beetlejuice's disappearance, she'd struck out in search of him. He wouldn't leave her - of that she was convinced - and so he must still be in the castle, somewhere. Her plan, she thought, was a good one; she'd make her way around the corridors, working out a mental map and systematically eliminating possible rooms where she confirmed he wasn't.

At first, it seemed to be going well. He was definitely not in the parlor with the dark red paneling. Nor was he in the sitting room with the large fireplace capped by a stone owl with its wings spread as if in flight. She already knew he wasn't in the little suite of rooms that had been appointed for their sleeping purposes, and the dining room where Vasile insisted on joining them (well, her) for evening meals was a foregone conclusion. So far, so good.

But as she turned a corner, Lydia paused. She was almost positive she'd been through this hall already. A small side table hugged one wall, and above it hung a painting that she could almost have believed was one of Delia's. "I could swear I saw this an hour ago," she muttered. "Well, maybe I got turned around somehow."

Naturally, the castle had to have a library, and while she didn't have much hope of finding Beetlejuice there, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. (He did read. Quite a bit more than most people would think, in fact.) But though she found the library, and even admired it, there was no Ghost With the Most among the stacks.

"I guess invoking a summons wouldn't even work," she mused. "We're in the Neitherworld, so all it would really do would be to send me home. Though I'm starting to wonder if that might not be the best idea." She paused and clutched her stomach, which was growling. "I can't keep up this charade forever," she mumbled. "I don't want to eat anything he puts in front of me - but I'm going to starve slowly if I don't eat something. And soon."

She left the library and started hunting again; perhaps she'd find a corridor whose table held a bowl of fruit, or maybe she could even figure out where the kitchen was and see if there was anything she could prepare for herself. Once again, however, she turned a corner and found herself facing a familiar scene - that same table, that same painting. "Now, this is ridiculous," she muttered. "I know this isn't the way I was heading. But this can't be the same hall, it was in the other direction! There must be two similar paintings."

Or three, apparently, since less than half an hour later she came across it yet again. "Okay, something's not right here," she said. "I've got to test this theory." She looked down at herself thoughtfully, then knelt and - very carefully - broke the lace of one of the little black boots she was wearing. "I'll put that here on the table," she told herself, setting it next to a candlestick. "If I come across this hallway and the lace is here, then I know something's really not right."

With great deliberation, she set off in what she thought was the direction of one of the two towers of the castle. She still hadn't managed to find either of them, and they seemed like a promising possibility for... well, something. Exactly what, she wasn't sure. Up a short flight of stairs to a landing, around the corner and -

"You've got to be kidding me!"

There was no mistaking it, even as her logical mortal mind told her it was impossible. She hurried to the table, the candle lighting itself at her approach. "And there's my shoelace. I left it downstairs. There's no question - the castle is trying to confuse me! It won't let me leave and it won't let me find Beej!"

As she'd had occasion to note during previous adventures, Lydia didn't scare easily. But she was pretty well frightened now.

Reclaiming her lace, she had stumbled back down the stairs and, mercifully, found her own rooms without much difficulty. At least here, she felt reasonably secure; the castle didn't trouble itself about her when she was in that suite, nor was there any evidence of Mr. Monitor's cameras. She could think and plan without too much concern for being outed.

"I don't think the castle can understand me when I talk," she mused. "So at least there's that. It seems more preoccupied with my intent - it let me find a few rooms. As long as I don't seem like I'm trying to do anything it doesn't want me to do, it might be content to ignore me." She pulled off her tiara in order to run her fingers through her hair, thinking. "And I know the camera guys are here, but the castle doesn't seem too worried about that either. It must be under some kind of order from Vasile to only concern itself with me. He must not know that they're here, or he'd be taking steps to remove them."

She flopped backward onto the bed, her coronet still in her hands. "Oh, Beetlejuice, where are you? We're better together, like I told Erebos. It was enough to break him, but it doesn't seem to be quite as effective here." She sighed, and winced as her stomach gurgled irritably. "Right. I need to eat something or I'm going to be sick."

Of course, the major problem was that there didn't seem to be anything to eat, or at least nothing she could easily reach. She sat up again and glanced around the room thoughtfully. "Chair... desk... window... small table... wait, window?"

Curious now, Lydia rose and, putting the coronet back in place, crossed to the window. It opened easily enough, though she half expected it to slam shut immediately; to her surprise, it remained open. "I can see why," she murmured, glancing down. "No chance of my climbing down - I'm on the second story and there's no way I can make a long enough bedsheet ladder or anything like that. Still... if I can open a window... well, it's a start."

She gazed out across the valley. It was midday, and yet the scene was oddly bleak and dreary, as though the sunlight couldn't quite pierce the gloom of Vasile's presence. Not much grew here except trees, and idly she watched a bird of some kind soar overhead. It wasn't very big, and she half wondered if it was lost. But it was a friendly face, in its way, and she was grateful.

"I wish you would come down here," she called, as loudly as she dared. "I don't know if you could understand me, but the birds at home always seemed to know what I was trying to say, and it would be nice to talk to someone."

At first there was no response; the bird seemed to have flown out of sight. With a sigh, she left the window. "Well, it was worth a shot," she muttered, turning despondently.

"Prrp?"

Startled, Lydia spun around. The little bird - almost like the Neitherworld's version of a sparrow, she thought - had perched itself on her windowsill and was watching her intently.

"You did hear me!" She hesitated. "Didn't you?"

"Prrp!"

"You can understand me. Kind of, anyway." In spite of herself, she almost chuckled. "Avatar of Life, huh? Maybe it'll save me in the end. Little friend, I'm starving. I need something to eat, something safe for a mortal - I don't trust my host, so to speak."

"Prrrrp." It gave a little birdy shudder.

"Oh, you know about him, huh? Figures." Moving carefully to the window, not wanting to startle her new friend, she slowly extended a hand. "Can you help me? Please? Something to eat, anything?"

Rather than answer, the bird took off.

"Well, that went well," Lydia muttered, sprawling on the bed once more. She took off her coronet and set it aside, trying to ignore the pains in her stomach. She'd never gone so long without a proper meal in her life, and she was starting to wish she'd been given some of Beetlejuice's appetite for insects along with a portion of his power.

She dozed off, mercifully, and was awakened by the sound of some very insistent chirping. Opening one eye, she looked at the window, where her little friend had returned. He, or she, had managed to bring a little branch - barely a twig, really - from some kind of berry bush. A whole three berries clung to it.

"Oh, thank you!"

It wasn't enough, it wasn't nearly enough, but she ate them gratefully. They were not quite ripe, she thought; still, they were sweet, and it was better than anything she'd tasted since they left Romania. She licked every droplet of juice from her fingers when they were gone.

"Thank you so much, friend." She sighed. "It won't last me long, but I appreciate the effort. I know you can't carry much, you're so little." She thought for a moment. "Do you know the way to Prince Vince's castle? Or maybe the Fairy Godfather's?"

"Prrp." It was a regretful note, clearly a negative.

"Maybe you have a friend who does. I need their help, badly, and I don't know if they even know how to find this place. Please, little friend, see what you can do. I'm a prisoner here, and my husband is missing." Lydia was surprised to find that there were tears in her eyes as she pleaded with the bird. "I don't know what this Vasile character wants with me, but I know it can't be good, and I can't stall him forever."

The bird, apparently moved by her obvious distress, left the windowsill and hopped up to her shoulder. She couldn't help chuckling as a tiny beak was rubbed against her cheek in a consoling gesture, and this was followed by a short, sweet song.

"Thank you," she said when it was done. "That... helps, somehow. But you'd better go, before anyone finds out about you. I don't trust the castle itself not to hurt you."

She watched as her new friend flew away, toward the now-setting sun. We'll get through this, she told herself. We haven't been beaten yet.