Behind the Curtain
by
Owlcroft

Of course they went back to the Neitherwoods for a picnic to celebrate the one-month anniversary of their changed relationship. It seemed only natural to return to the spot where they'd first kissed as more than friends, where they'd finally affirmed that they were involved romantically.

It was a sunny day with just a hint of breeze and they were happily engrossed in the food (the same as at the previous, momentous picnic) and gazing into each other's eyes, when Beetlejuice caught an odd shimmer at the periphery of his vision. Rapt as he was he glanced at it, first with curiosity then with alarm. "Lyds," he said quietly, "get up and back off, okay?"

"Why?" she asked dreamily. Then she focused on the real alarm in his voice and began to get up from the plaid blanket. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

He shook his head, rising himself to peer more closely at the shimmer, which seemed to be getting closer. "Not sure. It can't be what I'm thinking; they only live – if they are alive – in the Snorin' Desert. That's why it's off-limits to everybody."

Lydia approached his back and looked over his shoulder. "That? But what do you think it might be?"

"It looks like a Curtain. But it can't be!" He pushed her more firmly behind him. "Nobody knows what they are, what they live on, how many there are, what they want. But they take people – just take them away. And when they get you . . . you don't come back." He threw a quick glance over his shoulder at her. "If I say 'run', you run. Or better yet, go home. And wait for me there. Okay?"

"What? No! If it's dangerous, don't go near it! Beej!"

He gestured at her to stay back and was trying to crane his neck to get a better look when it surged forward and engulfed him. There was just enough time for him to scream, "Go –" before he was gone.

Lydia stood, frozen in place, and then the shimmer took her, too.

ooooo

Lydia could hear a voice, a well-loved voice, moaning, "No, no. Please, no." It was pitch dark, wherever she was, so she felt ahead of her, saying softly, "Beej? Where are you?"

"Lyds! No! Babes, are you here?" The voice had become agitated, fearful and anxious. "Where are you?!"

"I'm here." She extended her hand in the direction of Beetlejuice's voice. "Keep talking so I can find you? Where are we?"

"We're in the Curtain. It has to be a Curtain, but they've never been seen in the Neitherwoods." His voice became plaintive and despairing. "It's not fair! We should've been safe there. Oh, Lyds, why didn't you run? I was hoping you'd made it!"

She felt her way cautiously though the dark toward his voice. "I . . . don't know. I don't think I could, once you'd disappeared. I couldn't just leave you!" She felt his hand and, clutching it frantically, ran to stand against him. "Oh, Beej! What is this place?"

"Don't know. Inside the Curtain somehow." He was breathing hard and his voice was hesitant, erratic. "But how . . . Why can't I . . ."

"Can't you make a light? With your juice? We could see where we are and . . . and make a plan to get out."
"I can't," he said in a voice now filled with frustration. "Been trying to, but it's . . . muffling my juice – keeping it tamped down somehow. I think . . ." There was a long silence then a tiny light the size of a candle flame appeared over Beetlejuice's head. "There," he said with a sigh. "That's all I've got. I can keep it going, though, so that's something."

"Okay," she looked up at him trustingly. "So now what do we do? How do we get out?"

He enclosed her in his arms, holding her close. "You know the old phrase 'it's curtains for you'? Well, this is why, babes. Nobody has ever gotten out. But we're going to try! I'll do everything I can, okay? We'll figure something out, like always!"

But she could sense the anxiety he suppressed and felt his heart beat faster. "It's not hopeless, Beej. We've gotten out of tougher spots than this."

"Sure," he told her. "Just take us a while to figure out a plan and we'll be back to that picnic." He pasted on a false cheerful smile and then the small light flickered wildly and nearly went out. "Here," he said as he took an arm from her and the light stabilized again. "Peanut butter," and handed her half a sandwich. "You didn't get much lunch." Then in a lower tone, "It's all I can manage, Lyds. Sorry."

"But you –"

"I'll be okay." He was cautiously feeling around them, with his free hand and one foot.

"No, you'll get hungry, tired. Beej, please have a bite of this."

"Would you rather . . . I can do tuna instead. I know you like that." He added in a mutter, "Might take a little while though."

"No, peanut butter's fine. And that way we can share it." Her vision had begun to slowly improve in the surrounding darkness, so she could see his face better under the pilot light. She thought he looked more dejected than she'd ever seen him. "Please take part of this."

He let her go to take off his tie and stretch it out flat, then tied one end around her wrist, the other around his own. He pushed the sandwich back toward her with a shake of the head, saying, "I don't want to take a chance of being separated."

ooooo

They finally sat, just to rest and lean against each other. The darkness around them was complete except for the tiny light Beetlejuice managed to keep going.

"At least we're together," said Lydia just to break the long silence that had fallen. "You know, sometimes I look for you to laugh with me when something funny happens and then I'm surprised you're not there because I'm at school."

"Same with me. I turn to point something out to you and then I'm shocked when you're not there." He squeezed her hand gently and edged closer to her. "It's just not . . . not right when you're not with me, when we're not together. Although," he sighed, "I wish we weren't together right now."

She jiggled his hand with hers. "Don't say that! We're supposed to be partners, sharing everything equally, right?" Lydia was determined to keep the silence at bay if not the dark. "So tell me something – why did you bring me to the Neitherworld all those years ago? I know you wanted to cheer me up, make me laugh. But what about me made you think I'd like it here?"

"Don't really know." He cocked his head in thought then said, "I just felt that you would fit in here. That you'd find it . . . fun." His head dropped into his hands in dismay. "Some fun this is," he muttered.

Lydia found no answer to that and, despite themselves, they fell silent again.

After that, they slept frequently. There wasn't really all that much else they could do. They called into the darkness, asking for help, an explanation, any communication at all with the entity that had captured them. They tried to brainstorm a way to escape. Beetlejuice felt strongly that a mirror was the answer. If he could produce one, Lydia might be able to trigger the portal he'd set up for her, and then Call him from her home. He concentrated for over an hour, straining to access his juice, but ended up exhausted and despondent.

They talked sporadically, reminiscing and trying to make jokes. Lydia managed a weak chuckle for "the tie that binds" and the ghost snorted at her saying since they were trapped in a curtain, they ought to pull themselves together. They fell silent after that until Lydia said she was tired and could she have just a little water. He exerted himself to his limit, and, after nearly two minutes when the pilot light dimmed to nearly invisible, an apple appeared, which was so exactly what she wanted that she nearly wept. Then they lay down and slept again.

ooooo

There came a time when she finally had to say, "Beej, I need to . . . to go a little ways away. Oh, dear, I have to go to the bathroom!"

He considered for a moment, then said, "Okay, I'll send the light with you so you can see what you're doing. Just untie yourself and count fifteen steps in one direction and I'll keep my back turned. Do what you have to then tell me you're ready to come back and I'll talk to you so you know which way to go." He tried as hard as he could not to listen to what was going on, even going so far as to hum softly until he heard her call.

"Beej, say something. Where are you?"

"Right here, babes. Just keep walking toward my voice, okay? Keep coming, straight ahead; I can see the light." As she reached him, he held out a hand and pulled her toward him for a hug. "My turn, now, I'm afraid."

ooooo

Time dragged on, seeming to pass ever more slowly. They spoke intermittently, quietly – Lydia planning their summer vacation and Beetlejuice new pranks to play. He produced a cup of water for her, and, an hour later, a small bar of chocolate. She tried persuasion, commands, pleas, but he refused even a taste, saying he didn't really need it and she did.

Again they slept, the darkness making it easy. After an indeterminate time, Lydia woke to find complete darkness, no pilot light at all, and she spoke without thinking. "Beetlejuice!"

He answered at once and the tiny light appeared over him. "Right here, Lyds. Just wanted to save up some juice so I turned the light off while you were asleep."
"Oh," she sighed. "Thank you," as he handed her a cup of water. "Won't you have just a little of this?"
"Nah, not really all that thirsty," he lied. Then, as she sipped as slowly as she could, he presented her with a tuna sandwich. When she took it, he closed his eyes and frowned sadly. "I wish you had run." It was said so softly she barely heard even sitting knee to knee with him. "Or gone home. I wish you weren't here."

She leaned against him, feeling for his hand with her own. "I couldn't. I didn't know what had happened to you. How could I just leave without knowing where you were?"

"But it was all I had!" he exclaimed wretchedly. "To hope it hadn't got you, too! When you showed up here, I was still hoping – so much – that you'd escaped, gotten away."

"That's why you were saying, 'no, please no? Oh, my darling Beej. How could I have lived never knowing what had happened to you? How could I have gone on, not just without you, but living with that . . . uncertainty, that fear, that anguish?"

"But now," he turned away slightly, hanging his head, "with you here, too, it's . . . It's not hopeless! I won't give up yet! There has to be something we can do."

"Of course there is. We just haven't thought of it yet."

ooooo

Before they slept again, Lydia set aside half her cup of water for when she woke and, surprisingly, when she did, she found Beetlejuice still asleep, probably from sheer tiredness. She reluctantly roused him by saying his name softly and rubbing her hand up and down his arm; then, as he began to sit up but before he was truly awake, she put the cup to his lips and tilted the water into his mouth. He swallowed it reflexively, then, fully aware, he jerked back from her. "Lyds! Where did that water come from?"

She forced a chuckle. "Where do you think? It was last night's – or whatever time it is. I saved it for you."

"You shouldn't!" He sat up and looked at her with desperation. "Please don't do that. You need it a lot more than I do, babes."

Lydia edged closer to him before saying, "I need you more than I need anything else. A little water isn't that big a deal when you're here with me."

He disagreed but they reached no resolution before trying to come up with more possible ideas for escape. Unfortunately, they came to no resolution with that, either.

ooooo

Lydia woke abruptly, Beetlejuice shaking her and saying, "Lyds, it's okay! Wake up, babes!"

She sat up and turned to him immediately, throwing her arms around him. "Sorry," she muttered. "Bad dream."

"It's okay, I understand. Just try to go back to sleep now." He pulled her back down and settled her against him. "Best thing you can do is sleep." He extended an arm and pillowed her head on it. "Is that better? More comfortable for you?"

"Mm-hm," she murmured. "If it's okay for you?"

"It's fine," he told her. "And this way I know where you are." He kissed her temple. "Sleep better now, my babes."

"Long as you're here with me," she managed to breathe before dropping back into an uneasy sleep.

ooooo

The next time Lydia woke, he was already sitting up, waiting for her with two tuna sandwiches and a cup of water. "Turned the light off while you were asleep so I had a tiny bit of extra juice. Here," he presented them to her.

"Have one of these, please? Just one, and a little of the water," she pleaded.

Beetlejuice shook his head but stayed silent until, as though compelled, "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. Why didn't you run?" he cried in despair.

"It isn't your fault, it isn't your fault at all!" She quickly set the water and sandwiches to one side.

"Yes, it is!" He dropped his head into his hands, rocking slightly back and forth. "I was supposed to be responsible for you – make sure you were always safe in the Neitherworld. I didn't, not all the time, but we always managed to get through somehow. But this!" He looked up and around and threw one hand at the enveloping darkness, "this isn't just . . . a problem, a danger. It's . . . it is hopeless." He covered his face with his hands again. "And you're here because of me so it's my fault and I can't bear that."

Lydia listened to his breathing change slightly, saw a glisten of tears between his fingers. "No, don't," she murmured and pulled one hand away so she could wrap her arms around his neck and pull him to her. "It isn't your fault; don't you ever say that again. Please, Beej, don't even think it – not for one minute! It's not your fault if I wanted to be with you. It's not your fault that the Curtain showed up where it had never been before. It's not your fault that I decided not to run, or maybe didn't even have time to think about running. If I had to do it again, I'll still want to be here with you, not to live knowing you were taken from me, never knowing had happened to you." She held him as tight as she could, feeling his damp cheek against hers. "Please, please, don't blame yourself. I will never blame you."

He took a couple of gasping breaths. "But you could die here! How could I . . . I can't even think about that!"
"And leave you all alone here? Oh, no – please keep me alive as long as you can!" She gave him an encouraging smile, then hugged him until he'd calmed a bit.

ooooo

They sat without speaking, out of ideas and out of hope, huddled together, hand in hand. Suddenly, a faint blush of light seemed to dawn in front of them and an almost inaudible rustle was heard. Beetlejuice leapt in front of Lydia at once and spread his arms wide to shield her. "Don't move, babes. It'll have to get through me first."

"What?" She got up, grabbed at his arm and tried to pull him back to stand next to her. "No! We'll face whatever it is together."

"Let her go!" he shouted abruptly. "Keep me here, but let her go! She's human, she doesn't belong here. She didn't do anything – let her go!"
"No! Don't you dare!" Lydia wasn't sure which of them she was addressing, but she went right on. "I won't leave you here alone! Don't you dare send me away from him," she turned toward the muted rustling noise. "I won't go without him. In fact, let him go and keep me!"
"No!" Beetlejuice shrieked. "Do whatever you want with me, but let her go!"

"No, don't!" she screamed, holding onto him with what remained of her strength.
The rustle increased in volume and became a breeze, a breeze without words but with meaning that they somehow understood. The Curtain was communicating that it had been mistaken.

"What?" said Beetlejuice as if trying to understand a foreign language.

Lydia, arms around him, whispered, "How?"

The next instant, they were free, blinded by bright sunlight, in the middle of the Neitherwoods clearing where they'd been overtaken in the first place. Lydia looked at Beetlejuice, who looked at her then at his hand to snap his fingers. The tie that bound them together vanished in a sizzle and a flash to re-appear around his neck. He grinned in exhausted relief and next a glass of water appeared in his hands and when he'd handed it to her, it was followed by a pitcher which he raised to his own mouth. When they'd both drunk greedily, he juiced both pitcher and glass away and folded to the ground, holding out a hand to pull her to lie next to him and they slept soundly in the sunlight and safety.

ooooo

The suns were just nearing the horizon when Lydia awoke slowly, still feeling tired and hungry and somewhat confused. But when Beetlejuice extended a hand to help her up, she found a table of food waiting for her.

"I thought breakfast," he said, "because it'll be our first meal in a while. I wonder how long it's been," he mused, then seated her carefully at the table. "Pancakes, bacon, toast. Juice, of course," he added with a wink.

As they stuffed themselves, they grinned at each other and tried to comprehend exactly what had happened to them.

"It though we were . . . just things, not conscious beings. It didn't understand that we're people; it thought we weren't – I don't know – sentient, self-aware. Just like rocks or . . . or scraps of trash." Beetlejuice was down to his last heavily-syruped pancake, which he rolled into a cylinder then shoved into his mouth all at once.

Lydia was scraping up the last of her syrup with a fragment of toast. "It didn't seem to realize what we were until you offered to stay if it would let me go." She looked up with fire in her eyes and shook her knife at him. "And don't you ever do that again!"

"Well, but," he paused to swallow, then tried again, "but you were willing to stay if it let me go. How could you? Didn't you know what that would do to me?" He scarfed down his last rasher of bacon, then leaned back with a gratified sigh. Suddenly remembering, he waved a warning finger at her. "And don't you ever do anything like that again, either!"

"That must have been what did it: we were willing to sacrifice ourselves for each other and I think – at least I got the impression – that it was surprised by that. Beej," she reached across the table for his hand. "we did save ourselves, by being us. By loving each other the way we do. It got through to the Curtain and showed it that we are people, not just trash or things."

He freed his hand, rose and floated around the table to her, pulling her into his arms and cradling her tenderly. "I was so worried, so hurt, so upset, so desperate. I didn't know what to do. How can I thank you for saving me – saving me from such misery, such guilt and grief and pain?"

She smiled at him as she caressed his face. "There's no reason to thank me because you saved me, too. And I know you feel the same love for me that I do for you, and the Curtain finally realized it. So please don't thank me."

"But I have to. It's like having to keep you safe and make you happy. It's all part of the same thing." He gazed at her in helpless adoration. "But I can't tell you how much you mean to me. There aren't any words for that."

"You tell me every time you look at me, my darling." She tilted her face invitingly.

He gave her a long, bacon-and-maple-flavored kiss then put his mouth to her ear to whisper, "I have to say those three little words, my dear, dearest babes."

She looked at him, eyes bright in anticipation.

He looked into her eyes and said sincerely, "I'm still hungry."