Chapter Text
It had been almost a year since the Deetz-Maitland household saw Beetlejuice off on his Soul Quest or whatever he’d called it. Quite frankly, most of them were glad to be rid of him. Adam and Barbara harbored a quiet, shared unease at the thought of him, Charles had a strong distaste for him, and Delia was admittedly upset at his inability to recall her name.
Lydia wasn’t sure how she felt.
They’d had a lot of fun before shit hit the fan. He’d made her feel comfortable like nothing else had since her mom’s death-had helped her realise she didn’t need to be sad 24/7 to mourn. But then he’d switched gears out of nowhere and ground their fun to a screeching halt. That really weird wedding, the things he’d threatened her family with, the things he actually did ...it was messed up.
And then he’d switched gears right back and protected her. Stood up to someone he was terrified of...for her sake.
It left her unable to clearly sort her emotions out, part of her longing to see her buddy again and the other part dreading his inevitable return.
It was a Tuesday night. The clear sky was dyed in warm pastels as the stars began to peek past the fading curtain of light from the absent sun. Lydia was on the roof, trying to capture the first stars of the night with a special long exposure technique she’d read about, when she heard a noise behind her. She turned just in time to watch Beetlejuice step out of a chalk door on the side of the chimney, carefully closing it behind him.
He paused with his hand against the brick, taking deep breaths, before he turned around and abruptly jumped a solid foot in the air.
“Lydia!! Jesus fuck, kiddo, you’re quieter than the grave.” He gripped his chest dramatically. “Givin’ me a post-mortem heart attack over here.”
“What the fuck???” She stepped away from her digital camera, leaving it to do an extra long exposure while she dealt with the Juice Situation.
He didn't seem to hear her as he settled back down, looking her over. His green hair dripped more and more purple the longer he took her in. “You grew,” he murmured to himself. “And you’re in non-monochromatic clothes? Wow. Things must’ve changed a lot up here while I was gone.”
Lydia still wasn’t sure how she felt about him.
She blinked and stepped back again, wary of the specter, and watched his hair dye darker. He was overall just as grimy and ratty looking as before, but the rings under his eyes were deeper and he seemed more subdued now.
“Why are you here?” She asked, caution and unease filling her voice. He winced.
“No, yeah, don’t deserve to be trusted right off the bat, that’s fair,” he mumbled, before straightening up, hair flashing bright green. “I’m-!!” He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet her eyes. “Actually, I’m here to apologize to you! And the others. But mostly you. Y’know, considering you’re the breather I fucked things up with the most.”
Lydia blinked again. He seemed earnest. She was torn, but decided to listen and settled against the slope of the roof, crossing her arms to watch him. “Go on, then,” she drawled, feigning a casualness she wasn’t feeling. “Say what you’re gonna say, and maybe I won’t scream for Barbara to come so she’ll feed you to a sandworm.”
He physically flinched at her words, hair bruising a dark indigo before he took another deep breath and straightened up again, hands tugging at and fidgeting with his cuffs.
“I-I’m sorry, kid. I spent, uh, a lot of time talkin’ to Miss A. while the rest of the Netherworld bureaucracy rearranged itself and had duels to the double-death over Dear Old Mom’s seat at the top. She said that death is “bad” and “extremely unpleasant” and “not good to suggest as a solution to mild family drama” and called me a lot of things I don’t know how to translate without literally setting your ears on fire. So.”
He shuffled his feet as he regained his train of thought. “Uh, point is, I’m sorry for sayin’ you oughta kill your dad a bunch, and tryin’ta kill your dad and his girlfriend and the Maitlands myself. That wasn’t cool of me.”
Lydia raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t been expecting a proper apology at all. Maybe a weird prank, or a gift, or a gift-prank. Or him deflecting the blame away from himself and trying to get her to summon him again. Instead, he seemed...almost genuine. She was hesitant to say for sure, considering how Beetlejuice acted, but it was enough to make her consider his words.
After a few moments, she nodded. “Okay. I accept your apology for that stuff. What else?”
Beetlejuice blinked, a weak smile flitting onto his face at her acceptance. “Well, I also wanted to-uh-apologize for thinkin’ your dead mom was...gonna be like mine. ‘S not like I’ve known anythin’ else, but Miss A. said that assuming other’s experiences are the same as yours can lead to a lot of trouble and it definitely….did. Here. I didn’t mean to uh, slander her or nothin’.”
Lydia tilted her head, considering the apologetic demon before her. An understanding was starting to form in her mind, dots connecting. Her unease slowly began to let up as his words sank in. “Wait. Is that why you flipped out when I decided to try to summon my mom? Because you thought she was a potentially homicidal piece of shit like yours?”
Beetlejuice nodded, grimacing. “That and, uh, I thought you were gonna ditch me once she was here. Most people--- y’know, I’m a demon!” He tugged at his hair, working himself up. “I get summoned, I do what they want, they banish me again! Sometimes I try to milk it, make the task last, um, but when you can rearrange a house with a snap and possess a dozen people at once, no one buys you needing some time to prepare for a simple town-burning.”
Lydia decided not to ask about that escapade. She waited, patiently, for him to get to the goddamn point.
“So... figured you’d be like the rest and abandon me again. You’re the first breather to see me, yeah, and that’s huge. But you’re also the first one who treated me like a...friend? Didn’t wanna lose that, especially. So I wound up flipping my shit and severing our little friendship myself.”
He wrapped his arms around himself, looking down the slope of the roof at the birdbath again. He looked small and almost pitiful . Lydia noticed with a start that she was taller than him now, as well-that definitely didn’t hurt the impression. Nor did the dusk casting long shadows over him, his vibrancy muted in the low light. His hair had been a deep navy through that whole speech, and as he took a deep breath and met her eyes again it turned lavender.
“Also, that wedding? AWFUL idea. Being human for a few seconds left me with stronger emotions and More Feelings ™️ or whatever, and I hate it, thanks!” He shuddered.
“I...I figured you guys were gonna double cross me when you came back doing a whole ‘southern belle getting married off for her dowry’ thing, but the…” He looked away again, grubby fingers slowly unraveling the stitches of a patch on his suit’s elbow. “I wanted so desperately to matter to someone that it won me over anyway.” He went quiet for a moment, ragged fingernails digging into his elbow through the cloth, before he met her eyes again. “I promise, though. I never, ever would have used that to be a fuckin’ creep with you. I’ve got standards, and those include ‘not being a goddamn pedophile’ and ‘keeping the Green Card marriage attempts purely platonic unless the person I’m trying to dupe is a grown-ass adult and a demonfucker.’.”
She’d be lying if she said that wasn’t a weight off her shoulders. Nothing stresses a girl out like thinking her cool weird demon brother might be into kids or specifically into her. She felt tension leave her that she didn’t know she’d been carrying, and nodded along with his words.
He turned sharply, attention focused somewhere past the edge of the yard. “Not to mention the fucking degenerates in the audience who missed the entire point of that song and now want us to bone down! Goddamn disgusting. I hate you personally , you fuckin’ bastards! Do you know how hard you’ve made it to find fanfiction of me and the Maitlands, when every time I open the damn site I have to scroll past all your nasty ass, fucked up shit?”
“Who… are you talking to?”
“They know who they are.”
Lydia squinted, staring at him until he turned to face her again. “Anyway, it was fair for you to assume I was gonna be a shitbag considering the situation, I just...wanted to let you know I wouldn’t be. Ever. In my entire unlife.”
She nodded, considering his passion on this topic and the way he’d behaved towards her before. She’d never gotten bad vibes from him in that way, in all the time they’d spent together. “That’s...good to know, Beej. Thanks. And, yeah, I think we played it up a bit hard trying to trick you, but like, you did murder Delia’s guru.”
Beetlejuice blinked at her. “What? No I didn’t.”
Lydia blinked back at him. “Yes, you did? We never found the body but he totally-“
“Oh, oh, no, I just sent him back to New Jersey! Dramatic exits get the point across better, is all. He’s totally fine.” He paused and winced. “Probably. New Jersey is kinda rough all over.”
Lydia took a moment to process that. “...Huh. Okay. I’ll tell Delia that.”
She came to a decision, internally. Pushing off her leaning spot, she slowly approached Beetlejuice, watching how his hands immediately moved to start picking at the frayed edges of his lapels. His hair flushed lime green, then purple, then settled as a deep indigo again. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to think about you after everything,” she began, and he nodded, eyes skating back to the birdbath as he gradually backed away from her advancement. He looked skittish, afraid, and haunted, like if she said the word he’d jump off a cliff to prove he was genuine.
“I ain’t expectin’ you to invite me back or treat me like a friend again or nothin’. I fucked up.” As she got closer, she noticed his hands were shaking. “But could you, uh,” his eyes flicked to the window into her room, “keep Babs from yeeting me to Saturn long enough for me to apologize to the others, too?” He curled in on himself. One hand clutched at the center of his abdomen, digging into his torso, right where she’d- “I’ll leave y’all alone forever once I’m done with that, won’t ever have to see me again, pinkie promi-“
She flung herself forward, wrapping the demon up in a tight hug. He froze, but when nothing hurt he slowly relaxed and raised his hands to place them on Lydia’s back. Light, trembling... like he was expecting her to push him off, even though she’s the one who hugged him. His eyes searched her face when she leaned back to speak.
“Okay. It’s obvious you feel bad for what you did, and you’ve apologized and cleared up… basically everything I was mad at you for. I doubt anyone’s gonna like, trust you for a while yet, and you have a lot of amends to make, but you don’t have to leave us forever, BJ. It’ll be okay.”
The demon’s breath caught in his throat. The hands on her back tightened against the fabric, and then he was hugging her back. He crushed her against him, holding on like his unlife depended on it. He hid his face in her shoulder, and she felt something wet and hot start to soak her shirt.
“-Sorry,” he choked out, voice gravelier than usual. “‘M sorry, Lyds. I missed you.”
Lydia smiled, patting his back. He squeezed tighter. “I missed you too, Beej,” she wheezed. God, he was stronger than he looked. “Maybe if you’re good, dad’ll let you hang out with me? Like- like friends do?”
He nodded, smearing tears and grime and snot over her shirt. That was probably going in the trash tonight. “I’d like that. More than anything.”
She held onto her demonic friend for a while as he sobbed, watching more stars pop into visibility above them. Suddenly, a ‘ding!’ sounded from behind them and Beetlejuice jumped. He pulled back, wide eyes looking for the source of the noise, and she took the opportunity to release him.
“That’s just my timer, Beej, don’t worry. Wanna see if the pic’s any good?”
He nodded, pulling a handkerchief out of his sleeve and blowing his nose comically as he drifted over. Lydia noted internally that his hair had lightened to a dirty yellow. That was a new one. She closed the shutter tenderly and picked the camera up, peering down at the small screen.
The glow of the sunset was visible in about a quarter of the photo. An abundance of stars littered the night sky, those that were visible longest shining the brightest. She took a minute to search for the constellations she knew; Orion stood proudly between Gemini and Taurus, Cassiopeia laid next to Ursa Major and Minor, and Polaris shone brighter than any other in the middle of the sky.
“Man, that fucks,” Beetlejuice remarked behind her, and she giggled despite herself.
“...Colorful choice of words, Juicy Juice,” she deadpanned, and he snickered.
“It does, though! That’s cool as hell, Lyds. Hey, hey, actually, where’s that-uhhhh... Onion? Onion belt?”
She raised an eyebrow at him over her shoulder. His hair was gleaming yellow now, eyes focused on the screen. “Orion, you mean?”
“Yeah! Yeah, that guy. There’s a star with my name up there! Ma would never tell me if I’m named after the star or he’s named after me, but there’s a B-boy in that constellation.”
She pointed at the screen, outlining Orion for him, and he whistled quietly. “I wonder which one is..?”
She weighed the pros and cons of her next words, but he looked like a golden retriever entranced by a stack of tennis balls. A weird, scruffy, hobo-y golden retriever, but a golden retriever nonetheless. How could she not help? “We can go look it up on my computer if you want, dude.”
His head snapped up, yellow eyes sparkling and golden hair shining. “Really? You’d let me in the house for this?”
She shrugged. “Sure, I don’t see the harm in-“
“Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy , oh boy! We don’t have fuckin- stars or starmaps or shit in the Netherworld! The last time I looked through a telescope was when that Galileo fella was on trial!! I’ve been curious for ages, Lyds. Thank you, holy shit!”
He bounced on his toes all the way over to her window, and continued to bounce while she gathered up her camera and tripod, up until she opened it and let him in. He tumbled onto her bed, giving the springs a workout as he wiggled around and watched her open her laptop. She found a suitable map and picked the computer up, holding the screen facing her chest. She steeled her face. Time to set some ground rules.
“You can’t stay tonight, though, okay? After this, you gotta head back. I don’t think anyone would be super chill with finding out you were here at all, let alone that you spent the night or something.”
He wilted momentarily, hair streaking blue, before sitting back up. “Okay. Got it, Scarecrow. I’ll be good and, like...respect boundaries. Like Miss A. said is important to do!”
She rolled her eyes but sat beside him, turning the laptop to face him. The map was of just Orion, with each star clearly labeled. He stared at it blankly.
After a few moments of silence, he spoke up. “...this one starts with a B, but what’s with all that other shit after it?”
Lydia raised both eyebrows. “Can you...read?”
He shifted on her bed, hair quickly dulling to a pale, grayish-pink. “I can read, sure, of course I can fuckin’ read,” he said defensively. “I just can’t read good. The letters won’t sit still! Makes it real fuckin’ hard to read when every books doin’ a dance number on every single fuckin’ page.”
She took note of that and pity on him, turning the laptop so they both could see it. “Okay, so this star in the shoulder is Betelgeuse,” she read, pointing to it. “It’s weird, though. I thought your name was spelled like the bug and the drink.”
He shrugged, peering at the screen. “Never learned to spell real well either. Mostly I go off how shit sounds-Miss A. calls it ‘Fun-eh-ticks'?-but in this case, that looks like it’s for the better. People can spell my name without trouble. That is a Starbucks cup nightmare. Who the fuck thought that unholy amalgamation of vowels was a good word?”
Lydia shrugged, turning the laptop and doing rapid googling. “The word was...apparently an anglisation of an Arabic phrase that was literally ‘armpit of Orion...’ sooooo... Take it up with the old scholars.”
Beetlejuice giggled at the origin and nodded, a familiar grin forming on his face. “I will!! They’re totes in the Netherworld somewhere. I bet Miss A. or one of her friends can point me to ‘em! It’s been a while since I tormented an old fucker. It’ll be fun!”
As he talked, she watched his hair gradually grow green again, color fading up from his brown roots to the wild tips. She smiled. “Glad to see you cheering up a bit, Beej.”
He grinned back at her, eyes crinkling. “You wanna help? We can take a trip, it’ll be great-”
She shook her head, amused. “Nah, I gotta get to bed. I’ve got school in the morning, dude. Which means it’s time for you to get back out of the house before someone finds you.”
He wavered for a moment before grinning again, though she noticed his hair losing it’s vibrancy. “Alright, kid! I’ll go kick those astronomer’s butts. Can I drop by tomorrow again? Would that be chill?”
A quiet nod and a wave towards the door are enough to sate his worries. He nodded eagerly before climbing back outside onto the roof. “See ya soon, Scarecrow!” he exclaimed through the window.
She snorted and waved. “See you tomorrow, BJ.”
She watched as he fidgeted around, fistpumping into the air and bouncing from foot to foot. He seemed genuinely happy that things had gone well with her, and he bounced on his toes as he drew the door to the Netherworld, knocked, and went through.
Lydia flopped back on her bed once he was gone. So... Beetlejuice. Time to process all of that, huh? He seemed...to have learned from everything, surprisingly enough. He apologised for the things that had stuck in her grill for months and he appeared to be genuinely remorseful about them.
She rolled over, eyes landing on her camera. He was still Beetlejuice, of course, but he almost seemed a little less feral. What had Miss Argentina said to him? She pondered for a moment, but shrugged. Probably just chewed him out real hard. She seemed like the kind of spirit who could tear you a new one without flinching.
She got up and prepped for bed, still thinking about the chubby demon. How was she gonna open a discussion with her family about this? “Oh, he’s weally sorry for what he did, and he wants to apologise for the months of nightmares we had?” “He's gained the ability to process basic human empathy since we murdered him and he wants us to assuage his guilty conscience?” “I’m totally sure he’s legitimately sorry, despite being a conman known for faking basically everything to get what he wants?”
Lydia shook her head as she settled into bed. She’d sleep on it. With a flick, she turned out her lamp and snuggled up, drifting off to sleep quickly.
...For once, she didn’t dream.