Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lydia was 4, walking on the street hand in hand with her mother, Emily, on the way back from the grocery store. The girl was enthusiastically voicing her ideas for next Halloween, when gravity lost its effect on her.

“Woah!” was Lydia's simple reaction upon feeling her feet leave the ground.

Emily let go of the grocery bag on her other hand to hold her daughter before the height became dangerous. “Woah, indeed.”

-

The pair came through the door. One worried but amazed Emily threw the keys on the counter with her left hand, while guiding one giggling, upside-down Lydia into the house with her right. The bag of groceries, being pushed and kicked by Emily, had also made it to the house successfully.

Once inside, and after the door’s been closed, Emily scanned the ceiling for pointy objects and exposed wires. There were none. She nodded to herself. “Do you want to try letting go, pumpkin?”

Lydia seemed to consider the question, she looked from their still enlaced hands to the ceiling, centimeters away from her feet. “Yes.” She grinned.

The reversed falling was slower and smoother than any of the two would've expected. Lydia reopened her eyes after the lack of impact and gave a tentative step forward. And another, and more after those, confidence growing with each.

Emily followed her very move from the ground, ready to catch her in any circumstance. Debating if she should cheer for her daughter; because this was truly extraordinary and awesome and, my goodness, her kid could fly! Or keep a reassuring silence, in case her compliments got the child showing it off to other people, and literally crawling up the walls in kindergarten.

Five or six years ago, she wouldn't have minded. Hiding one’s true self was tiring, horrid and awful. She could speak from experience, and had promised herself to never impose something like that into her future kids.

But then shit had hit the fan, and now there was only one image lingering on her mind. One of carnage and pain, from when those she once called her friends, had destroyed the only other person who could really get her.

And God or Satan or whoever, forgive her if something like that happened to Lydia. Because this time, with nothing left to lose, Emily wouldn't stop at wrecking houses, arson and blackmail. There would be blood.

But what if keeping quiet now made her daughter think this was a normal thing she could do anywhere? And what if by cheering her, she made Lydia lose her concentration and fall?

And then both choices felt the same, and Emily couldn't stop thinking about how easy it all would be if she was like the old times, not caring about what people may think, not knowing what people could do. About what if it wasn't just her and her child against the world. What if-

Lydia, oblivious to her mother's emotional rollercoaster, had taken upon herself to climb down to the floor. “Ta-da!” She singsonged. And that was all it took for Emily to decide her approach.

“That was amazing, Lydia!” She clapped. “Good job, girl!”

-

“You remember what we talked about the other day?” Asked Emily, crouching beside her daughter, hands cupping the girl's cheeks.

“No flying outside the house, ‘nless there’s fire.” Reported Lydia nodding at every word. “Or! If a creepy old guy appears and starts following me.”

“Correct,” smiled Emily and kissed her forehead. “You are the best that ever happened to me. I love you.”

The little girl giggled “Love you too, mommy. See ya’”. She waved, walking to the entrance with the other kids.

“Later, pumpkin.”

They were ironically lucky to discover Lydia's ability to fly on that Friday 13th. The most important advantage was that Lydia had the whole weekend to practice and wore out the excitement, while Emily had time to process and mentally prepare for this moment: Monday morning; school time.

The moment Lydia left her sight something heavy turned in her stomach, with a grimace and a sigh she tried to reassure herself everything was going to be okay.

Lydia, for her part, was having the time of her life. Pretending to be an undercover villain -a superhuman, a witch if you may-, infiltrated between unsuspecting people. Her confidence was as out of the ceiling as she herself could go. And no one could stop her.

“Did you wash your hands, young girl?” Asked one of her teachers with a gentle smile, stopping her midway to the breakfast tables.

Right, the washing-hands thing. “Nope.” With a half turn around she changed directions to the bathroom, the teacher chuckling behind her.

There were still a few girls in the bathroom. And while Lydia was finishing washing her hands, one of them shrieked loudly, entoning something similar to: “Cockroach! Cockroach! Run!” Her golden mane passed before Lydia and out of the bathroom in a flash. The other two girls apart from Lydia had jumped backwards and startled at the screams of the blonde, but had otherwise calmly dried their hands and approached said insect after seeing Lydia do so herself.

The insect was laying upside-down in a puddle of water near the tap. At first Lydia thought it was dead, but then one of its legs twitched. The blond girl made such a deal for this? Lydia concealed a laugh and reached to grab it.

The other girls also seemed to find the situation amusing, and they creeped with curiosity behind her. When Lydia carefully turned the bug in her hands, the shorter of the girls gasped. “‘t is a beetle!”

“What?! Not even a cockroach?” Asked the tall one, who was further away.

Lydia turned around, noticing them for the first time since seeing the bug. She felt her lips starting to curve upwards again. “Seems so.”

The three of them were trying so hard to contain laughter and failing so horribly, that they had to gasp for air before answering to the teacher that hurried through the door, claiming there was a crying Claire and asking for a cockroach.

“Here now girls, be honest: were you the ones who put the bug there?” Teacher Barbara’s question didn't carry a lecturing tone, but it had some heaviness.

The three girls expressed their negative answers in their own way. “But can I keep it?” Asked Lydia afterwards. Concealing a smile that could give away that she thought her teacher's idea was brilliant.

Barbara looked at the problematic bug in the girl’s hand. It was a striped beetle, it was missing two legs, its wings were cracked and messed up, but it was alive, somehow, and slowly cleaning its antennae with one of the few legs it still had. "Well then, I think that's okay.”

Lydia's smile brightened and, after short consideration, brought the beetle near her apron’s pocket, an invitation. The bug apparently accepted it, as it climbed down into the little cocoon of fabric. “You should rewash your hands, though.” Said the teacher.

They were late for breakfast, everyone was already sitting at the tables and drinking their hot cocoa. But that also left them with their places next to each other.

Once they sat, the tallest girl said “I’m Bertha, and she is Prudence.” She pointed to the other girl, who waved, before looking back at Lydia. “What's your name?” 

“I’m Lydia”. She smiled.

These girls seemed nice and chill. For starters they weren't grossed out by insects, and then they were actually starting a conversation with her. If Lydia were already feeling like a winner when the day started, now that she had a cool beetle in her pocket and two very likely new best friends in front of her, the world could split in half and she’d play it as part of a script to conquer it all.

Chapter Text

After breakfast, the children were taken to the backyard. Lydia and her new friends were sitting together in a wheel swing, with leaves and sticks in hands trying to feed a beetle that refused to eat.

“Maybe it doesn't like veggies?” Proposed Lydia already scanning around the soil.

“But they're supposed to like it. My dad read me a book and that's what it said…” Rebutted Prudence inspecting closer the beetle on Lydia's hand. The bug looked back at her and bit the air in an almost menacing way. Prudence startled back, half gasping, half laughing and shrugged. “Okay, maybe I’m wrong, who knows?”

Right then Lydia spotted a big rock which in her experience, was a great candidate to contain worms, and climbed down the swing. She crouched and grabbed the bottom of the rock with her free hand, ready to ask her friends for help -seemed like a heavy rock, it reached her knees- but with just a small try at lifting it, the rock was sent rolling three feet away.

“Wow, Lydia. You are strong!” Exclaimed Bertha climbing down the swing herself.

Lydia looked at the rock and then at her hand with a surprised expression. But yeah, this should be normal, she was a cool witch. Even though she wasn't sure how, or if she did it, of course she could lift rocks with a mind's command. “Well, here is the new menu.” She told the beetle, pointing at the wriggling worms.

The bug jumped off her hand and into the soil. It was quite a view to see it gorily devouring the other species. “Ew, this really wasn't in the book.” Mumbled Prudence.

A running boy stopped to watch the scene. Then he looked at the girls, each one with a more amazed expression than the other, Lydia even cheering the beetle on with her fists. “You guys are weird. Not so girly of you.” Said the boy.

The moment was broken. The beetle stopped eating to watch the boy. Lydia also frowned at him. “Wanna see something not girly?” She defied and took a bunch of dirt, threatening to throw it at his face. The boy yelped and ran away.

The girls’s laughs were cut short by the realization that the beetle was no longer in sight.

“Oh, no! Where did it go?” Worried Lydia, inspecting her hand full of dirt, maybe she had picked it up then? But there were only a pair of worms in it. Has she scared it when she took the dirt?

“It couldn't fly, it had bad wings, maybe it's hiding?” Reasoned Bertha and crouched, careful not to move her feet from their places, as to not step on the lost beetle.

They had started to scan the floor when a teacher, not the same as the morning, arrived with the boy from before in her arms. “It is said that someone here threw dirt at Kevin's face?”

The boy uncurled and pointed a finger at Lydia. “Yes! It was her!”

“I didn't throw it! I still have it here!” She defended, reopening her hand and stretching it in front of her to show. “Look, his face is… clean…” Her words lost strength seeing the boy, he did have dirt on his face. Has he dirtied himself just for the lie? That's cheating! Lydia curled her fists beside her body, ready to call out on him, but before she could say anything, a flying blurred dot started to pester and headbutt the teacher.

The teacher screamed “What's this?!” Waving a hand around in self defense, the boy hid his face in her neck and covered the back of his head with his arms, now whimpering. Soon the woman was running away from the aggressive attacker.

“Wait! That's the beetle!” shouted Lydia and started running behind the blurred dot.

“Really?!” Exclaimed back the two girls, hurrying behind her.

-

“You should name it.” Bertha told Lydia.

“Yeah, it seems to like you a lot.” Said Prudence.

They were now sitting in the classroom, art supplies spread on the table, tasked with painting their houses and families. The beetle was laying on Lydia's cheek.

Lydia hummed. “Beet? No, that's a plant.” She was pensive for a while before she huffed. “I don't even know if it's boy or girl.”

“Does it matter?” Asked Bertha.

“It'd be easier to think of a name.” She helped the bug into her hand and held it in front of her eye’s sight, analyzing it closer.

“The book said something to notice the difference. But I didn't get it… Why didn't they put images in an insect book?” Pouted Prudence.

“I’ll ask teach’ Barbara.” Concluded Lydia hopping down the chair.

“Is this the same one as before?” Asked Barbara after being surrounded and questioned by the three girls. Sure, she could blame the lighting for making the beetle change colours from purple to green, but the bug on Lydia's hand had its wings in much better condition, and seemed overall more lively than before.

The little girl nodded. “ ‘tis bigger now ‘cause we fed it.”

Barbara considered it for a moment. “Well, I have no point of comparison, but I would say it's male. It has big antennas.”

The girls let out an elongated “oh” of realization. “So that's what the book was saying.” Added Prudence.

Then they started throwing a wild variety of names, going from “Jeff” or “Vincent”, to even “Orion” or “Stripes: the Worm Killer”. But Lydia couldn't set on one. And judging by the constant hissing, the beetle didn't seem to like them either.

“Ooh! How about Leonard?” Suggested Bertha. “Or Lawrence.”

Lydia grimaced. “That’s my dad's…” She sighed, poking the bug, who was silent for once. “I don't know, I just called him The Beetle all day…” The Beetle jumped twice on Lydia's hand and flew to pose on her forehead again.

“Well, he seems to like it.” Suggested Barbara watching the scene with an amused smile; so many names and the simple option won.

The girls went back to their table then, and reassumed the activity.

Lydia had always thought her house was small compared to others she saw around the town, it had just one floor, a kitchen-dining room, a bathroom and two bedrooms, hers and her mother's. But being able to fly could change one’s perspective of things, there was so much space in the ceiling. So Lydia used the whole sheet just to draw the dining room. She drew herself upside-down on the ceiling, and her mother looking happily at her from the floor. She held the paper in front of her for a moment and, after short consideration, added a big beetle on the ceiling lamp.

She smiled brightly. “I'm done.”

Words of approval came from the two girls. “I just have to draw my dad to finish too.” Said Prudence.

Bertha nodded but did a double take on Lydia's drawing. “Where's yours, Lydia?”

“Oh, I don't have one.” The girl shrugged.

“But you said…”  Prudence trailed off, confused.

“I never met him… mom said he was taken away.” Lydia emphasized the last two words. “Maybe he’s dead.”

Her friends stared at each other with a grimace. They couldn't picture themselves being so casual speaking of the possible death of their parents. And of course, Lydia would love to have met him but, well, one couldn't miss what they never knew.

“ ‘t is fine.” Smiled Lydia at her friends concerning looks, trying to lighten the mood. “Now I have this guy instead!” She said pointing at Beetle on her face. The bug flapped his wings as if he was agreeing to the statement.

“That's-” Bertha chuckled. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

After hanging everyone’s drawings on the wall, it was nap time. But Lydia has been skipping those religiously since months ago, not feeling sleepy enough and getting bored of waiting for the day to continue.

So, when her teacher Dora -it was Dora, right? She should reread the teacher's nametag- came to give her her pillow, she was going to pretend to be sleepy as always, wait until both adults were distracted by the other kids and exit the room in silence. But, “Lydia, I don't mean to alarm you…” Said Debra -no, Delia- slowly, with her hands in a placating motion. “But you have a bug in your face.”

And really, who could blame Lydia when she just played it dumb, with a wide grin and a tilt of her head. “Where?” The bug crossed her face diagonally in the most evident and creepy way possible, before hiding behind the girl's neck.

Delia managed to conceal a yelp with an awkward laugh. “You know what? Nevermind.” She hurriedly pushed the pillow onto Lydia's hands and scrambled back to the other kids.

That done, Lydia gazed around the room. Prudence and Bertha were already laying to sleep, she couldn't invite them, but Barbara and Delia were distracted, now was the time.

She slowly backed up to the door, opened it with the perfect speed to avoid its creaking, exited, and closed it again behind her.

“Where are we going now?”

Lydia startled and turned around. Had they discovered her? How?

The door was still closed. She frowned and scanned the hallway left to right, she was alone.

“Because I’m sure babies her age should sleep a bit after running around all morning. Don’t ch’all agree?”

And then she registered that it wasn't a voice she’d ever heard before. It sounded like a man with really deteriorated voice chords, as if they were just keeping it together by pure will power, like a chain smoker maybe.

“Don't get me wrong this is 100% more exciting than watching a bunch of babies sleep. I’ll happily tag along, Lyds!”

Lydia, luckily, hadn't had the opportunity to know her mother's standards of a “creepy old guy”, but this sounded like a correct guess. She instantly glued herself to the ceiling.

“HOLY CRAP, THIS KID CAN FLY! You go, girl!” The voice cheered.

“What-? Where-?” Lydia was a brave girl but she also was still four, and not being able to identify where the threat came from was getting to her. So, refusing to cry just yet, she ran to hide in the darkest corner of the ceiling, behind a wooden beam.

Then she looked back at the floor with watery eyes, and again: there was no one around. Beetle crawled to her face and, wasn't that a relief? She felt a little less alone against the invisible threat.

“Woah, what's wrong?” Spoked the voice once more, now sounding in front of her.

“What’s wrong?!” She snapped. “Who are you?! Where are you?!”

“Wait, can you hear me?!” The voice sounded legitimately surprised.

Beetle took off from her face, Lydia blinked. He couldn't go, it was dangerous. Not for a beetle, but he couldn't leave her alone. He shouldn't. Tears finally started to drip to the ground, she reached a hand to try and grab the bug when he stopped in place just a few inches away.

“Can you really-? Woah, kid! Are you okay?” The excitement in the voice died as it was replaced with worry. “You hurt yourself? Was it a sliver?” The bug flew closer to her hands, like he was inspecting them. The voice moved with him. “I know you breathers are very fragile, but you looked tougher than that.” He landed on her still extended hand as Lydia connected the points.

“Oh my god… You can speak.” She laughed through her tears with realization. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“What?! Me?! I made you cry?!” Exclaimed the beetle. She nodded, drying her eyes and forehead with her free hand. “Damn, sorry kid. I'm always up for a good scare but I like you” He sounded sincere. “And you didn't even scream.” 

Lydia chuckled. “How can you speak? Or wait! Am I a princess now? I wanted to be a witch.” She complained, more to herself than him.

“Hey! Witches should also be able to speak with animals… insects, at least. But I think this is less because of your cool magic powers, and more because I’m not really a bug.” He said matter of factly.

Lydia turned around and placed him on the wooden beam, at the height of her eyesight . “You're not?”

“Nope!” Beetle said proudly “I’m a- wait…” he hummed, and started to walk back and forth along the beam, mumbling something to himself. Lydia was about to ask what was wrong when he suddenly stopped. “We are buddies, we are pals, right? BFFFF’s?”

“Of cours-!”

“You also have powers, you wouldn't try to kill me, right? No back-stabbing or exorcism territory here, right?” He asked, staring left to right, like it was a cagey question.

“What?! Of course not! Why would- what?” The girl shook her head perplexed. “You are the coolest not-beetle I’ve met in my life. We are pals!”

“Good. Okay. As I was saying…” The beetle dramatically cleared his throat. “I'm no bug, I’m a demon.”

“Really?” She slightly frowned. “And why was a demon half-dead in the sink of this school?”

“That's… actually a good question.” The beetle was pensive for a moment. “Last I remember, I was waiting for the love of my existence, when her friends knocked on the door. They threw around silly excuses, before–the pricks! Tried to! FUCKING MURDER ME!” He breathed heavily with rage. That sounded… really bad. Lydia wasn't sure what a seance was, but she noticed his green wings flashing red for an instant before he resumed with a joyous voice, as if nothing happened. “I was saved by a scream back then, and I woke up to the sweet scream of that blondie just today. Been feeling better and better with each one.”

Yep, that sounded more like her alley. No touching the previous subject here. “You feed on screams?! Like in Monster’s Inc?” Asked excitedly the girl.

“I don't think we watched the same movie, I’m sure that's not how it goes. But yeah, sure, something like that.” He said condescendingly. “Today I’ve been building my strength from rock bottom–I do not recommend–. My first goal is to go back to my human form.”

“That's so cool! I’ll help you.” She said, decided.

“For reals?”

“For reals, for reals.” She nodded, and noticed a teacher approaching along the hallway, perfect timing. “Monster’s Inc two.” She whispered to the beetle, who made a confused sound.

The woman was reading some documents on a foil, coffee on the other hand. Lydia waited until she was beneath her and ran from one beam to another. The woman let out a tiny yelp and looked at the ceiling, squinting her eyes. Lydia wasn't exactly visible. “What…?” From the first beam, the demon-beetle hissed, getting another jump from the lady. And then, Lydia flew back to the floor in silence, standing right behind her. The teacher had started to desperately scan the ceiling, when she spotted Lydia staring at her.

This time, the woman properly screamed, backing away two steps and throwing her coffee into the air with the jump. And, crap, the coffee was probably hot, the teacher would burn both of them with that. Lydia inhaled short and sharply, in dread anticipation, but just then, the liquid disappeared midair.

Lydia blinked astonished, but recovered quickly enough to ask, “are you okay, Miss?”

The demon started laughing.

“I- where did you come from?” questioned the woman, slowly regaining control of her breath.

Lydia pointed to her classroom. “I was goin’ to the bathroom.”

With a nod and a “go on, then”, the teacher was out of sight. The demon flew down and landed on top of Lydia's head. “That. Was. Amazing, kid! At first I was like “what? Monster's Inc two? Huh?” But then it clicked! We are such a great team!” He rambled with glee. “Oh! And congratulations! You just made something disappear for the first time, right?”

“That was me?!” She laughed. “Where did it go?”

“No clue. Unless you have a pocket dimension, ‘you sure you're not a demon?” He flew in place in front of her, evidently smiling when saying those words. “Maybe you too feed on screams.”

“Lydia, there you are.” Came the voice of a worried Barbara. “How long have you been out? Are you alright?”

“Beetle didn't want to watch sleeping babies.” She quickly defended, pointing a finger at the bug.

“Yeah, that’d have been frigging boring.” He landed on her shoulder before doing a double take. “Hey! Don't blame me!”

Lydia soon found out that no one else could hear Beetle’s voice.

Chapter Text

Emily stood anxiously waiting for her daughter in a sea made of other parents. She wasn't pacing back and forth just for the lack of space. She reasoned that if she hadn't received a call, then everything really went okay, and boringly normal, but the uncertainty was still lingering on her.

After a while the flood of parents lessened, the majority of the children were back with their respective adults, and it was the turn for the 4 year olds. Every worry in Emily’s heart disappeared when she saw Lydia smiling wide and bright while talking with two other girls. She waved them goodbye before running straight to her crouching mother.

“Mommy!” The kid hugged her tight. “I made three new best friends today!”

“That's great, Lydia! I'm so happy for you!” Emily took the girl in her arms and stood up. She found out that Lydia was lighter than last time she had picked her up, and looked at the girl with a mischievous smile.

Lydia noticed and smiled back a toothy grin. “I'm not flying.” She defended.

“Alright, little bat. I wanna hear it all. So you made three friends? I saw you were talking with two girls just now, were they two of them?” Emily got the conversation back on track and started walking back home.

“Yes! Bertha and Prudence! They are cool!” Her daughter beamed. And started rambling about how she met them. The storyline sounded a bit mixed up, there was a beetle (who was her third new friend) and they had fed it, so it got bigger and she drew it like that in art class. Then the girls talked about their parents, and Prudence had an insect’s book. The beetle should eat veggies but it ate worms. Wait, what? And then, teacher Dera was scared of the bug. And the beetle could talk, and Lydia made coffee disappear. Woah, woah-! And they fed on screams, so she helped the beetle to reach his goal to become human. And- hold up!

Emily knew that her daughter had good imagination, but given that she could also fly, Emily seriously doubted that the last part was fabricated. Before Emily was able to mediate a word Lydia continued, climbing down from her mother's arms now that they’d arrived home.

“And Beetle said it was boring to see babies sleeping,” Lydia opened her pocket and finished the sentence speaking to it. “But who’s the sleepy baby now, huh?” Something, surely the bug, hissed from her pocket. “Yeah, I know that. But you should say hi when you meet people.” There was a pause as the beetle crawled out of her pocket. “She is the coolest mother, a bit of magic won't scare her.”

Emily closed the entrance door and approached the dining table, where Lydia was having the one sided conversation with the bug. It seemed like a regular Ten Lined June beetle, but to Emily, what stood out the most was its colour, while these bugs were naturally red, this one glowed greenish.

“She can't do that! You’re my B-F-F-F-F” Lydia counted every letter with her fingers. Then she saw Emily approaching and beamed “Look! Mom, this is Beetle. Beetle this is-”. She paused. “How do you know my mommy's name?”

Emily saw the exact moment when the bug turned purple.

And she knew better than to raise her hopes. She obviously did. It’d be an impossible occurrence for him to have survived back then. She knew, she had checked, she had tried again and again to bring him back. She knew better and still… Eyebrows trembling, voice cracking, Emily spoke the only word her mind was providing her. “Betelgeuse?”

In an instant, the bug opened its wings and flew to land directly on Emily's nose. To her daughter's surprise, the woman started sobbing.

And it was weird. Because Lydia knew her mother to be an insect lover, beetles especially. She always smiled when spotting those in the out.

But what was weirdest, was to see how said beetle started to morph -and not in a magical, family friendly way, but in a gorily accurate one-, into a man. A man with green and purple hair, dressed in a striped suit, who was also weeping and holding her mother in a tight embrace.

Emily might’ve not been able to see it but she had felt the change, she felt the desperate arms surrounding her, and she reciprocated with all her strength as both sank to the floor. “I’ve searched for you everywhere.” She managed to say through the tears in a strangled voice. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-”

He shook his head. “Not your fault.”

“I thought you were dead.” She cried.

Betelgeuse chuckled, ready to rebut with a comment on how he is, in fact, dead.

“Dead-dead. Gone.” Added Emily. 

“I'm here.” He whispered.

Then a little voice asked “Um… are these sad or happy tears?”

Both adults let go of each other and turned with a start, as if just remembering the presence of Lydia in the room.

The girl was grabbing and twisting the hems of her apron with an unsure expression on her face. Emily was about to stand up to hug her too, and reassure her that things have never been better in a long time. But Betelgeuse, ever the hyperactive one, recovered from the emotional outburst faster and got ahead of her.

“You are a miracle, kid!” He scooped Lydia up from under her arms and lifted her up at arm’s length, joyously twirling around.

The girl was surprised at first but she was soon giggling. “What did I do?” 

“What did you do? You found me, and showed me the way back home!” He exclaimed matter of factly. “You're like-! Dunno… Saint Anthony! But like, less of a saint and more of a de-”. Betelgeuse blinked and came to a full stop. He stared at Lydia with a small, cautious frown, body tensing as he internally processed what he was just about to say. The girl tilted her head and mirrored the expression.

Betelgeuse turned to face Emily, who inhaled sharply through her nose, lips pressed together on a thin line.

“How long has it been?” He slowly asked. Trembling hope translated to flashes of white on his green hair.

“Five years by the end of October.” Emily all but whispered with an aching smile.

“Oh.” Betelgeuse nodded, assimilating the information, then he looked back to the girl he was still holding in front of him, “and you were…?”

“Lydia.” She said, in a ‘how-could-you-forget?’ way.

He sighed a laugh. “No, how old are you?”

“Oh! I'm four.” She said extending a hand in front of her, four little fingers raised. Betelgeuse stared for a moment before searching Emily’s eyes, silently pleading her for any confirmation to his conclusion. He wanted it to be true.

Emily nodded with a tender smile, and he somehow managed to carefully set down the confused Lydia, before his knees gave out and his eyes started to blur with tears again. “Why? What's happening?” asked the girl.

“I'm sorry, these are happy tears, I swear.” Betelgeuse rushed to say, avidly drying his eyes with his forearm. “I- you…”

Emily took pity on him and finally approached the pair. “Lydia, pumpkin,” she said gently, kneeling beside them. "This is Lawrence… your-”

“Daddy?” The girl lightened up. “He is my- You're my daddy?!” She asked excitedly, turning from Emily to him.

Betelgeuse barely managed a nod before Lydia tackled him with a hug. After only a small hesitation, he returned it tightly, with a soft sigh, realising all the tension in his body.

They stayed like that for a while, and at some point, Emily was also wrapped into the hug.

“You smell funny.” Lydia told him after a while, voice muffled between them. “And I know that now.” Betelgeuse whispered. Both girls chuckled and he slightly let go to make his defense face to face. “Welp, I did wake up in the bathroom’s sink today. Didn't I?”

Chapter Text

Before, Lydia never thought she could be happier than she already was, but two weeks later and the life with her new-found father surpassed her expectatives. Not only that, her mother seemed to be more confident now that Beetlejuice was around.

He would usually go to school with Lydia in the form of the beetle, and sometimes they got to scare people with little mischievings.

When tricks such as the “sudden revival” of the insect, or the kid suddenly appearing behind everybody’s back grew old, Beetlejuice volunteered to teach the girl how to use her powers to their full potential.

Lydia was sitting on a chair apart from the table, facing the demon, who was manifesting a chalkboard from thin air to start some explanations.

“Okay, I have it in good authority that I’m the perfect teacher.” He stated. “So, let's-”

Emily, hearing their plans while cooking dinner, turned to him laughing “Says who?”

“You wouldn’t know them.” Beetlejuice defended, shaking his head matter of factly. Next thing, he had a chalk in his hand and turned to Lydia. “As I was saying, let's start with the basics. If you feed on screams, like you perfectly put it a few days ago, you should be able to try new things by now.”

“Like what?”

“Like… let's see, you can fly, you certainly have a pocket dimension of your own…” he listed, badly illustrating both on the board before adding, “which you definitely need to clean, by the way. Free liquids floating in there would make a mess. I hate to quote this but: you have to drink it, or throw it out!” He said in a higher pitch, using the chalk to mimic a cigarette. “Learned that the hard way.”

“But I don't know how I did that…” pouted Lydia, clenching and unclenching her hands.

“Well, usually you can use your powers by feeling strong emotions.” He pensively tapped his chin with a finger. “Before I met your mother, that was rage for me, ‘couldn't feel shit besides that back then. But now…!” He faltered, the roots of his hair warming to a pale shade of pink before turning back to green. “...I'm not really sure– so! What did you feel when you banished the coffee?”

The girl was thoughtful for a moment. “I didn't want to get burned… fear?” 

“That's…” Beetlejuice nodded sideways. “Not ideal. And when you fly? How was the first time?”

“Happy!” She leaned forward, holding herself onto the chair “I was talking with mom about Halloween! Halloween it's always fun!”

“Okay, cheesy,” he pointed out, even with the feeling being similar to his, “but great! We can work with that!”

-

By the end of the day, Lydia had learned a couple of neat tricks. Now, she could throw her voice around the house, levitate small objects like a shitty knock-off of Matilda, and she could even teleport short distances (and was probably able to teleport to any place she’d been before).

But even after so many tries, she couldn’t open her pocket dimension again, and at some point in the night, they discovered that she also couldn’t possess the living, nor turn herself invisible. Hypothesis for those were that she was very not-deceased, so Beetlejuice had said that there was no rush to learn them, especially the last one, since: “who would actually want to be invisible, right?” Emily had soundly agreed, and Lydia found herself nodding too.

“Plus, if you keep trying right now, it’ll just waste all your gas.” Pondered the demon.

“Gas?”

“Yeah, your powers I mean, they run out if not refilled by some good people-scaring session.” He explained with a shrug, then he stared at the distance mumbling something along: “Anyone knows if backshadowing is a thing?”, but Lydia wasn't paying attention anymore.

“You are telling me that just now?!” She stood up on the chair, agitated.

Beetlejuice snapped to attention again. “Wow! Relax, Lyds.” He made a placating gesture with his hands. “What you’ve been doing, hardly consumes it once you get the hang of it.”

“So… I won't fall down when flying?” She timidly asked.

“Nah, that's like second nature, same as walking, you'll be fine.” He waved off.

The girl visibly relaxed, and soon enough, she started yawning.

“Let's call it a night, then!” Said Beetlejuice enthusiastically.

“What? But I wanna learn more!” Argued Lydia, jumping down to shake the rest of the yawn.

“Glad you do, Lyds, but unlike me: you still need to sleep.” He gestured, pointing at himself and her in succession.

“You are always sleeping, though.”

He blew a raspberry, “ ‘course, I said need, not want. When you have someone to wake you up before a decade, it's actually pretty nice.” He countered, nodding at Emily. “You should be thankful, kid.”

Lydia laughed and crossed her arms, “I could wake up without help in less than a day!” She defied.

Beetlejuice imitated her. “Oh, wanna try it out? Ems, dear?”

“Do you want me as a referee or a contestant?” Emily jumped right into the game, also crossing her arms with an entertained smile. 

“Referee, we all know you’d win.” He assured, and looked at Lydia as seeking approval. The girl nodded.

“Very well then,” Emily clapped. “If neither of you wake up by three in the afternoon tomorrow, Sunday, you’ll be automatically disqualified.” She declared, exaggerating an X Game’s announcement voice.

Lydia inclined herself over to the demon and whispered, “what does that mean?”

He leaned, too. “Means you lose, kid.”

The girl made an “oh” sound in understatement before yawning again.

Emily approached and picked Lydia up. “Come on, let's get you to bed.”

Chapter Text

Emily Bane was never fond of her mother as much as her mother was never fond of her. She was twenty five when the woman died, and went to the funeral just out of respect and to take some pictures around the cemetery. She wasn't surprised when, months later, she learnt that the only mention of her name in the woman's will was to deny Emily of every right upon her heritage.

That was clearly expected, and the reason why Emily had been finding her own ways to finish paying her studies and the bills. She went from part-time jobs, to reselling things online. And when she received an e-mail in July, with her first full-time job contract as an interior designer, Emily knew she needed a way to celebrate it in some flashy way.

The idea had come like an epiphany: Halloween in summer.

Sure, she barely had ornamentations for that. Even though Halloween was her favorite festivity, it hadn't been a priority for years. Luckily, she made up for her lack of family connections with a good amount of friends; five perfect candidates to ask for the goods, and they nicely lent her some. There even were little to no follow up questions; everyone already knew Emily’s quirks, and while they were sometimes caught off guard, they supported her. They were nice people.

Emily started the project from the inside-out in the afternoon, and by the early hours of the next day’s morning, the one thing left to do was plank-up the windows. She'd have to wait for that if she wanted to maintain a good relationship with her neighbors; plus, Emily reasoned, the hammering noise would make for a great attention catcher if she played her cards well.

Before calling it a night and sleeping until the time was right, Emily stood in the front yard to admire her hard work. It looked like a full-blown haunted house, but there was still something missing. If her more ethereal friends were still around (and hadn't been forced into another plane of existence by a Hell’s Tour Guide long ago), they would ask something like:

“What the fuck is this breather doing in the middle summer?”

But probably in a much more mannered, amicable way, and she would take advantage of their lack of need to sleep, to ask for their ideas and opinions to improve. Although the majority of ghosts she’d met were newbies, and had never thought about how to be creepy or scary more than the normal amount.

“I like the vibe, could do with some planks on the windows, tho.”

“I have that covered.” She thought outloud, staring analytically at the house. “But I was thinking of something more uncanny… maybe some skeletons on the porch, like human rests or something…"

“Yeah, or some good old spikes and snakes. Even with a few special effects this could already look perfect. Ya’ know, mist, thunder, some flashy red light inside…”

And hey, those would be really good ideas if she had money to spend, but Emily finally noticed that she wasn’t imagining a “could be” conversation, and didn’t actually know where the raspy voice came from.

She turned to her side in a flash and found a creepy-looking man, with striking green hair and beard, dressed in a filthy striped suit and trench coat. “Woah! Who the hell are you?!” She yelped, stepping back. And remembering it was three in the morning, she readied the open box of nails in her hand to throw it at him in self defence.

The man looked startled for a moment before turning to face her, astonished. “Wait, can you… see me?”

Emily quickly took a nail from the box and threw it at him as an answer, only for the nail to go right through him.

“You can see me!” He said, joyous, completely ignoring the small piece of steel landing behind him, and started rambling. “I thought I was talking to myself, you know how it can get when you're alone for a long time, but! I wasn't! I'm gonna have a new best friend!”

Emily had relaxed her posture as soon as the nail hit the grass, and stared at the excited man with a sad smile. “Gee, I knew there were less ghosts around, but is it getting that bad? How long have you been avoiding the guides?”

“Wha-? Oh, no, I’m the guide, babes.” He corrected, motioning to himself with his hands. Then he noticed a patch of dust in his sleeve that he somehow seemed to deem different from the rest, and started brushing it off. “I just hate my job. Speaking of…!” He abruptly raised his head again. “Why don't you… I don't know, say my name three times?”

“What? What does that have to do with anything?” Giggled Emily, going around him to pick up the nail.

“Good question, you see,” his face emerged from the ground, next to the nail. “Trying to bend some rules, while having a demonic dictator as a boss, can get oneself cursed.”

Emily raised an eyebrow at him and stood up, saving the nail and closing the box. He flew out and above her, upside-down, and went on. “So now, I'm stuck in the world of the living, invisible, and powerless, like a… gay republican. But you can change that.”

“By saying your name three times.” Emily said, skeptically.

“In a row, spoken unbroken, yes.” He completed, landing and rubbing his hands together. Then he put one to his heart and nodded solemnly, “and I’ll be forever grateful. Hell, I’d even help you with your haunted house. My real job and hobby was bio-exorcism, babes. I could kill and get rid of whoever you want, snappishly and fast, no charge. So? What do ya’ say?” He finished, with a market sale’s voice impression.

Emily grimaced like she just saw someone fail a jump and fall, “ooh… You were doing so well. But…” She shook her head, the man looked taken aback. “I don't want to kill anyone, not even if my enemies were still alive. I just want to celebrate that I’ve been employed, by -egoisticly- scaring the crap out of my neighbours.” She started walking to the porch. “And I could actually raise money for charity with this, so: quite the opposite, no ‘bad karma’, as some of those lifecoaches would say.” She ended with a smirk.

“Fine, no killing! But please, I'm begging you here!” He fell to his knees and crawled behind her, hands clasped together. “I'm so sick and tired of being alone! Pleasepleaseplease!”

She considered him for a moment, her mind going in circles with questions. How much power did these demon-guides have? His first offer was to kill. If he could really do that, and was unstable enough… she’d might be spared for helping him, but she'd be unleashing a dangerous individual. But how desperate had a demon to be, to beg for something? And how long has he been alone to be this desperate?

Emily knew how it felt to be alone and ignored. She had been there before, but she was lucky enough to find a group of friends who got her back. If she hadn't had the chance to speak to anyone, if she had been physically invisible… How long would have taken for her to be as desperate as him?

She wouldn't have lasted a year.

“What's your name?” She asked.

He stopped his pleading chant to look at her with hopeful eyes. “Hold on, I used to keep a…” He trailed off, going through every pocket he had, there were more than Emily thought possible. Finally, he found what he was looking for in one of the front pockets of his suit, and showed it to Emily, triumphantly. “Here!”

It was a presentation card. She read it outloud. “Dolly Levi, matchmaker?”

“What? No?” He frowned, confused and retracted his hand to read it himself. He briefly locked eyes with Emily and snorted, before burning the paper with just the move of his wrist. “Wrong card.” He rummaged a little more in the same pocket before taking out another card and extending it to her. “Here.” Emily tried to grab it but her fingers went through the paper. “Oops, yeah, nope, not tangible.” 

She squinted at the old cursive letters. “Betelgeuse? Like the star?”

“Star? Well, I do consider myself a rockstar, but I've never met anyone named the same as me.” He said proudly, standing up and straightening his clothes, card smoothly stored in another pocket.

“I… no, it's-” she laughed, “doesn't matter. So, three times in a row?”

The demon nodded fervently.

“Be… fore raising your hopes, we should talk about terms and conditions.”

Betelgeuse slightly deflated. “Is that some new fancy way to say rules? Or safe-word? ‘cause if it's the second…” He ran a hand through his hair with a suggestive smirk. “I have a long list of ideas, babes.”

“Ha, ha. No.” Emily fake laughed, hiding how ridiculously entertaining she found the situation. She opened the entrance door. “I'm sure demons can move around without getting eaten by sandworms, right? Wanna come in?”

“Wow, she doesn't only know a lot, but she is inviting me to her house?” He said placing his hands on his heart with a moved expression. “You’re completely sure you didn't mean ‘safe-word’, love?”

“Come on, don't make me regret this.” She rolled her eyes. “And the name’s Emily.”

Chapter Text

After setting the rules, Emily didn't need much more convincing to “summon the demon”. He’d promised to keep the killing rate at zero, and the ‘Summer Halloween Party Hype’ to a maximum. Out of desperation he had also given her a way to “unsummon” him, if she thought it was really necessary. She'd just have to repeat his name thrice again.

And that was it. Why would she leave the guy chained up to a curse when she, herself, was a free spirit? More so, Betelgeuse was actually pretty fun to have around, and luckily for Emily, he had decided to stay even after her successful “summer-ween” event.

Time revealed that they had quite a few things in common too. From the love for Halloween, the appreciation of things socially perceived as ugly, strange or unusual; to a shitty relationship with their mothers, and their constant feeling of solitude in a world where people didn't get them.

Yes, Emily had friends thanks to college, but their support was subtle and silent. She knew they were usually uncomfortable with some threads of conversation, or her sense of humor. Compared to them, Betelgeuse was actually on her same wavelength. There were no touchy subjects or taboos, no little grimaces when she laughed at dark jokes. Hell, he made most of the dark jokes.

Their interests took them to share all kinds of experiences in a short period of time. Emily would've been lying to herself if she didn't consider spelunking, tier-listing every horror themed park they went to, axe throwing, or even stargazing to show him the star with his name, as dates.

Everything to say, Emily always felt at ease with him. Like she wasn't silently being judged, like she found someone who really got her, and appreciated her. Adding to the blooming feelings, was the fact that she knew for certain Betelgeuse felt the same way.

Eventually, the line she had drawn the first few weeks, keeping the physical contact on a low basis, started to bend, making space for cuddles and hugs that lasted longer and longer.

One day, a group of armed robbers made the terrible decision to break into the house and threaten Emily’s life. Betelgeuse had somehow found the composure to stick to his promise of “no killing”, but the robbers still had to be sent to the hospital, and were definitely left with high levels of psychological damage that would take decades of full-time therapy to unpack.

By the evening of that day, the same wobbly line didn't just bend– it shattered into oblivion. Lost somewhere under the sheets of their now shared bed.

Everything continued splendidly for months, and it was about to be a year since they met, when Emily’s friends inquired to know “just where had she been all year”. Emily went so far as to tell them she was dating someone.

After some happy shrieks from Heather and Charlotte, the other women of the group, and a water choking cough from Robert, one of the men, Emily was bombarded with the regular questions of people who didn't know you had a social life out of themselves or work.

The interrogation led up to an awkward meeting a few days later. Involving the five curious individuals–the awkward ones–, Emily and Betelgeuse–the happy pair–, who laughed their asses off at the expression the others pulled when the demon, nonchalantly, used his powers before them.

It all seemed to be okay by the end of the day anyways. Yes, they were surprised; yes, Robert was moodier than usual; yes, they were kinda frightened at first. But overall, they were very excited to discover that demons, and a whole new world actually existed and, after spending the day asking about everything imaginable, they left with wonder and a smile on their faces.

Even though, weeks later, those smiles would mean nothing.

Emily should’ve known better. Or maybe she should have let Betelgeuse teleport her to work and back that day. Maybe she even shouldn't have replaced the Summer-Ween event with a one-year-celebration-passion-night.

All she knew was that she was getting back from work when it happened.

She wasn't feeling well that day, so she got permission to go home early. A sunset in the distance replaced the usual darkness when she got out of the car. That very instant, a nauseous smell invaded her nose. It wasn't just any smell, it was iron, blood. Emily ran to the porch and opened the door in a flash.

Her five friends yelped, but Emily could only hear static as she came face to face with a chained, decomposing mass of flesh, bones and striped fabric.

Betelgeuse, he was– they killed–

Why?

She tried to launch herself to free him, or hug him, or just do anything. But the people in her house stopped her.

Why?

She kicked and punched whoever it was, rolling on the flor until she was free. When Emily turned around again, she was met with another man, followed by a hissing and bubbling sound coming from behind him. Before being restrained again, she could see a third man pouring something onto the remains of Betelgeuse.

Why?!

Emily screamed.

-

Emily woke up in cold sweat, desperately patting beside her on the bed. Her hand found Betelgeuse, sleeping safe and sound.

Her eyes filled with tears, she instantly turned to hug and squish him with her whole body, grounding herself in the present and the fact that he was there and… as alive as he could be.

She had been ignoring it last night –it wouldn't have been good to worry Lydia–, but the flashback-y nightmare was precisely her worst one. Now that her daughter had developed powers, and Betelgeuse was teaching her how to use them, the fear of losing either of them to a raging or scared crowd was higher than ever before.

“Did I lose?” Asked drowsily the demon, hugging Emily back. Then he must have noticed that it was still pretty dark, because he made a confused sound; and shortly after, he definitely noticed how messy her breathing was. He quickly snapped awake and asked worriedly, “Emily? Hey, what's wrong?”

Emily shook her head. “Nightmare…” Her face still hidden in his chest made her voice come out muffled. “We need to talk.” She added with a squeeze.

Chapter Text

Lydia woke up to muffled voices in the room next to hers. It was strange, she rarely heard anything from there at night, which should be strange in its own right; she knew both of her parents snored, quite loudly, in fact. It was strange, but it probably saved her from waking up like now.

Her thoughts trailed off, eyelids becoming heavy again, but then she remembered the competition and the drowsiness went away with a blink. She dried a thread of drool in her cheek with one wrist, and picked up the clock from the nightstand with her other hand.

Had she lost? Was she disco-wi-fi? 

Lydia didn't know how to read the clock yet, but its hands weren't in the same place as usual. She reasoned it should be too early and reached to the curtain to prove her theory. She barely realized she could see just fine with almost no light, before the fabric revealed how dark it still was outside.

Good, she was still on the game.

“We could just tell her.” Came the muted voice of Beetlejuice from the other room.

Lydia perked to attention, they were talking about her. Tell her what? The game was cancelled? The curious girl left the bed and pressed an ear against the shared wall.

“No… I don't want Lydia to feel like she has to hide, or change the way she is, just because I'm afraid of how people could react.” It was Emily this time. “Gosh, are you hearing this? Me? Scared of other people's opinions? Fuck…”

“I mean, it's valid to fear the opinion that makes people want to kill your daughter, doncha think?”

Kill her? That was impossible, she could just fly away before anyone’d be able to touch her. Lydia was sure of that.

“But this is a small shitty town,” continued Beetlejuice. “I doubt anyone around here has a cursed book, or any knowledge of how to exorcise a demon, really.”

Exorcism. Lydia had learned the word from one of the ‘doubtly appropriate for a four year old bed time stories’ she’d asked her father to tell throughout the week. Beetlejuice had proclaimed himself an ex-bio-exorcist, so he had to explain what that meant to the confused Lydia before continuing the story.

“An exorcist is someone who expels- eh, kills, for a simpler term- any being that is not usually considered as fully-alive, or supernatural. Like me and you.” He had said. “And a bio-exorcist is kinda the opposite, translate: I used to kill people.”

All the morality discussion apart (to which Emily joined to berate the demon for casually revealing to their kid he was a murderer), and how he swore again and again he hadn't broke the promise of not killing again; the difference between an exorcist and a bio-exorcist was that the exorcism of the later just sent the soul to another plane of existence; while the former eradicated the soul into the void, never to be seen again.

The adults were worrying about the possibility of that happening to her.

Lydia frowned, not understanding why it was considered a possible scenario, again, couldn't she just fly away?

“Emz, even if they do, I’d be right there breaking bones and painting the walls red; no killing rule be damn.”

Emily laughed, more a concerned sigh than anything, “that shouldn't comfort me as much as it does.”

“Oh yeah, it should,” he assured. “This time I’d fight back, no one can take me by surprise twice! No one could take away my new found family™ again.”

Lydia smiled, sleepiness already catching up to her again. Thinking about it, there was just one last thing she had to do before giving up into the dreamlands; with a snap, the kid manifested herself above her parents bed. Yelps ensued.

“That's cool and all, but does this mean I won?”

-

Soon came Halloween, the real, predictable one, but the family of three were on a quest to make it unexpected. The year’s theme was a maze of bones, and they wouldn't answer to anyone where those came from, they’d just stare into the soul of the curious with a wide grin and ask “wouldn't you want to know?”

They were having a blast, especially Lydia, who got to scare everyone without needing to worry about people seeing her teleport, or simply use her powers to the fullest. She would deny it, but the conversation her parents had a few weeks before certainly stuck in her head. Anyways, now it was Halloween; if someone asked, it was Halloween magic, same as the giant bones Beetlejuice had arranged in the house.

He wasn't far behind in the enjoyment, either. Channeling around his voice–“Ah, fresh meat! ‘hope this one doesn't go to waste… I shall feast!”, just to jump at them from behind with an unhinged, maniac laugh.

Emily, being in charge of letting people in and out, got to see the before and after of every person who went through the horrors of two demons having fun. She almost couldn't keep herself from laughing of some adult’s faces, after their curiosity for the house had been satiated.

That was the case with the Maitlands, a rather reserved couple Emily only knew because Barbara Maitland was Lydia's teacher. The blonde woman had been excitedly encouraging her husband, Adam, throughout the long wait in the line, certain that it’d be a fun experience. The man obviously had already given up to curiosity if he was there, but needed the assurance.

In the end, they left the house in a turmoil of screams and nervous laughs.

“And that is apt for kids?!” Gasped Adam to her wife, hands on his knees, seeing Emily close the door behind a group of children. “Is terrifying!”

“Well, it's Halloween, dear.” Barbara managed to say after a few coughed laughs, then she turned to the smiley–definitely not about to burst out laughing–Emily. “It really was a lot, though…”

Emily theatrically cleared her throat, “do not be afraid, for the spirits know their prey.”

“What?” Deadpanned Adam, and that was what broke Emily's character entirely.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said after her laughing fit, a hand in her stomach. “I meant that they know how far they could go depending on the guest age, it’s kind of a personalized experience.”

“Oooh! That's awesome!” Barbara cheered.

“Very thoughtful,” nodded Adam in approval.

“Of course! If they wanted to repeat it next year, we needed to avoid angering parents and getting police calls.” Chucked Emily, children’s screams in the background queuing her to open the door.

The kids who came barreling through the door were Lydia's friends, Prudence and Bertha, followed closely by one trembling Kevin.

“That was amazing, Miss Bane!” Prudence exclaimed to Emily.

“No, it wasn't,” argued the boy in a small voice, slowly shaking his head.

“I still don't know why you went with us uninvited,” giggled Bertha.

He’d sneaked? Emily had been a bit distracted to notice, what with the Maitlands freaking out, but the next group in line had been teens, so Emily’d assumed the three were together. There were no parents, maybe the boy didn't want to go alone.

Kevin opened his mouth to retort, there was a pause before he actually spoke, like he was rethinking what he was going to say. “I don't have to tell you nothing without a lawyer!” He said with a frown and ran away.

Apparently, the girls took it as a game invitation, because both started running behind him, while Prudence shouted “You have the right to remain silent!”

Emily whistled surprised, and nodded to Adam when he added, “four years olds’ these days…”

“I know, right?” Barbara smiled widely.