Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

November 2024

Lydia had never been a fan of bright colours, but she couldn’t deny that autumn was the most beautiful of the four seasons. Her boots waded through the sea of crispy red, yellow, and orange leaves, each step emitting a satisfying crunch. She breathed in deeply, enjoying the fresh air.

She had always thought that Halloween was the best part of autumn. Until recently. The events of this year’s Halloween had changed her view of it completely. Firstly, the ghost in the black and white striped suit, who had haunted Lydia for thirty-six years and whose name she didn’t want to think about, had tried to marry her for the second time. Secondly, her deceitful ex-fiancé had disappeared completely and was now presumed dead. This should have relieved Lydia, but the truth was, Rory’s disappearance and possible death had caused her a lot of problems.

The biggest of these problems was that she no longer had a manager. Lydia should have been happy that she was no longer Rory’s puppet on a string, that he could no longer have a hold over her and control her. And she was. But in his absence, Lydia had struggled to easily slip back into her role as the presenter of Ghost House. Her confidence was shattered, and she was still feeling the sting of Rory’s deceit. She felt lost, and the fact that the production company had admitted that they could no longer afford to appoint a new manager had done nothing to put Lydia’s mind at rest. She had found herself wondering if a manager had even been needed at all and whether Rory had simply appointed himself as one as another way of controlling her.

It had only been a month since the events of that night, but the production team had noticed that Lydia was struggling. And according to the phone call that she had received prior to the meeting that she was about to attend, so had the viewers.

As she made her way towards the studio where Ghost House was filmed, Lydia knew that this meeting wasn’t going to be easy.

***

“These are…well you can see for yourself that it’s disappointing.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. She had always got on well with Robert Forrester, the head of Ghost House’s production team. But lately, he had been getting on her nerves. He had been good friends with Rory and Lydia suspected that Robert’s newfound issues with the show were partly a result of the team losing Rory, who Robert had described as his “wingman.”

Robert slid the sheet across the table and Lydia glanced at it. The ratings had fallen, it was true. The evidence was right there in front of her. But it wasn’t by a huge amount.

“It’s only been a month,” said Lydia, pushing the sheet of paper away from her. “Give it time.”

“The ratings are usually high at this time of year,” Robert said, shaking his head. “We usually see a boost right after Halloween, but not this time. Applications from guests have hit a low. Rory’s absence hasn’t helped.”

“How can it possibly be to do with Rory?” Lydia asked, frowning. “The show always takes a short break and returns around Halloween. Rory was working on the show right up until Halloween. There hasn’t been enough time for his…”

Lydia caught herself, her voice trailing off as she tried to avoid saying the word “death” out loud. This wasn’t because she didn’t want Rory to be dead, but because she didn’t want to upset Robert any further, especially not when her career was on the line. “Disappearance” would hopefully be a more fitting word, so that’s what she used.

“…for his disappearance to affect the show.”

“Rory was a good manager to you,” Robert said, studying her.

Lydia wanted to argue that a manager who throws a person’s pills away in the trash to make them dependent is not a good one, but she didn’t. Instead, she remained silent.

“Without him, you…you’re just not the same, Lydia. You’re not as easy to work with and quite frankly…you’re not getting any younger.”

Not getting any younger.

The words floated into Lydia’s ears and buried themselves in her brain, where they settled with all the other negative words that were stored in there. Words uttered by Rory and every other person in Lydia’s life who had had a problem with her physical appearance and her strange and unusual personality.

Ageism was a common thing in a career like hers, but Lydia had hoped that the audience would care far more about her ghostly investigations and less about her age and physical appearance. Robert’s next action confirmed that this wasn’t the case.

“Take a look at this,” he said, scrolling on his phone and holding it out to Lydia. Lydia’s eyes raked over the comments on the Ghost House forums.

A thick skin was a must for anyone working in the entertainment industry, Lydia knew that. Years of comments about her choice of attire and her strange fascination with ghosts had enabled Lydia to build up that thick skin, but the breakdown of her marriage to Richard and her experience with Rory had ripped it all away and she had found herself becoming more bothered by what people thought of her in recent years.  

When she first started presenting Ghost House, the producers told her that she fit the part perfectly. Her gothic appearance and her morbid interests had impressed them, though she suspected that, like Rory, some of them doubted her ability to communicate with the dead. The audience liked her to start with, the producers had told her that. But Ghost House was now on its tenth season and, somewhere along the line, something had changed. The show was attracting younger viewers, and it was clear that these viewers not only wanted entertaining television, but they also wanted a presenter who conformed to societal beauty standards.

Lydia continued to scroll through the comments, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Is the presenter ok? She always looks so pale!

She needs a new make-up routine! She would look SO much better with some contouring! Check out my tutorials on my TikTok!

She looks like a middle-aged Elvira but without the big tits.

Her fringe looks like it was cut by a five-year-old.

And there, nestled amongst the biting criticisms of Lydia’s appearance, were comments about her ability, with the most recent influx of younger viewers complaining about the lack of ghosts.

Can she even see ghosts? Because we never actually see any in the investigations that she does.

I think she’s a fake. She just enters the houses, sees a few pots and pans flying around and then leaves. We never see any actual interactions with the ghosts.

The words continued to bury themselves in Lydia’s brain and she shakily handed the phone back to Robert, who was looking at her with a “told you so” expression. Lydia felt that this was harsh of him – he had never pointed out negative comments about her before. In fact, the action seemed out of character for him. Lydia felt that something was amiss, but she could only assume that such an action was due to the production team being under pressure to get back the viewers that had been lost. Still, she could not help but think that it was a shitty move to point out her age and draw her attention to those nasty online comments. She took a deep breath, not wanting to let the criticisms bother her. She was fifty-two, for god’s sake. They shouldn’t bother her. But they did.

It was damn hard, reading negative comments on social media and forums and Lydia had always tried to avoid the internet. Ghost House had an official forum, Instagram page and other social media pages, but Lydia hardly ever interacted with fans on any of these pages, instead preferring to stay away from them.

Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

Perhaps, Lydia thought, that was why she had managed to remain in the spotlight for so long. Her decision to stay away from social media had resulted in her having no idea what people had really thought of her as a presenter. Until now. The newer younger viewers were harsher critics than the ones who were a similar age to Lydia, that was for sure.

“Evidence is right there,” said Robert, gesturing at his phone dramatically in a manner not unlike how Rory would have done. “We need a change.”

Lydia folded her arms.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, glaring at him. “Shall I get a boob job? Cover my face in blusher? This is a show about ghosts, Robert. I wasn’t aware that people would care so much about my skin tone and chest size.”

“This is the entertainment industry, sweetheart,” said Robert, shaking his head. Lydia had to resist the urge to walk out as he uttered the endearment and breathed in deeply, trying to fight the surge of anger that had just bubbled up inside of her.

“Times are changing. Of course people are gonna be bothered about how you look, especially the younger generation. The truth is, we need to change things up a bit, get the show in a position where it appeals to these new viewers.”

He ran a hand through his perfectly styled dark hair, which was flecked with grey. Lydia wondered how much criticism he would be receiving if he was the one presenting the show. How many comments, she wondered, would these younger viewers make about his grey hairs? If she had to guess, it would be hardly any at all.

Robert exchanged glances with Jeff, one of the other producers, and Lydia suddenly found herself disliking the production team who she had previously had a good working relationship with. Rory, it appeared, had been a bad influence on them. Everything had been fine until he had shown up and wormed his way onto the team.

Not for the first time, Lydia found herself wishing she had never met him.

“The truth is,” said Jeff, studying Lydia through hooded eyes, “People’s viewing preferences are changing, Lydia. They wanna see more than just pots and pans flying around a house. They want thrills and excitement. They want…danger.”

Lydia closed her eyes and sighed. She should have known this day would come. She had, for most of her time on the show, taken on tame assignments. The ghosts that she had encountered had been mostly harmless spirits who wanted to remain in their homes, much like Adam and Barbara had. The producers had never given her risky investigations. Lydia didn’t have the ability to remove ghosts from homes and she had made this clear to the producers when Ghost House was in its infancy.

She was a psychic mediator, simply someone who tried to help the dead connect with the living. She had always aimed to help the ghosts live in peace with the people whose homes they haunted. This was a far more achievable goal than removing the ghosts completely. It had taken her a long time to make the decision to televise her ability. Lydia hated the thought of exploiting ghosts, but becoming a parent and buying a family home had placed a lot of financial pressure on her and Richard and so she had made the hard decision to showcase her ability to communicate with the dead.

Then there had been the divorce, which had been costly, and then Richard’s death, which had forced Lydia into life as a single parent. Richard had, of course, left everything he owned to Lydia and Astrid, but there were still bills to pay.

“I can’t give you danger, Jeff,” she said, after a few moments of silence. “I’m a psychic mediator, not a ghostbuster or an exorcist. I don’t have the ability to deal with dangerous spirits.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to find a way to start trying to do just that,” said Jeff. “We’re losing viewers, and this is the only way we can keep the ratings up.”

Lydia shook her head, sighing. She should be walking away, refusing to meet the demands of the producers, and quitting her job. But the truth was, it was a lucrative career. She had money, but being a parent was expensive, and she wanted Astrid to have a secure future.

Her reluctance to let go of the Winter River house was also causing issues. The mortgage had long been paid off, but the house was huge, and the bills were costly. She should have gone through with the sale that Delia had planned, but the truth was, she couldn’t. She didn’t want to let go of the house where she had met the young ghost couple who had shown her so much love and care.

“We’re gonna put out some applications for more thrilling investigations, get people who are being haunted by nastier spirits to appear on the show,” Robert announced. “We’ve got Silverstone Manor on our radar too.”

Lydia’s eyes widened. Silverstone Manor was an old house located on the outskirts of Connecticut. Lydia had heard stories about it. It was supposedly haunted by a dangerous spirit and there had been stories of people going in there and never coming out. Lydia had always been fascinated by it, spending hours researching it online in her younger years. It was currently derelict; the dangerous spirit had driven everyone away from it.

“I’m not doing investigations like that,” Lydia said firmly. “It’s too risky. I have a daughter to think about. I’m not putting my life on the line because you want to pander to the younger generation.”

Robert and Jeff exchanged glances, then Jeff spoke.

“Have it your way, Lydia. But I’m afraid your refusal to agree with the new changes that we want to implement will result in your dismissal. We will have to search for a new presenter, but I’m sure we can fill the role easily.”

Lydia folded her arms and let out a hollow laugh.

“Good luck with that,” she said. “This is a risky job and it’ll be hard for you to find someone who can communicate with ghosts.”

“Well, as long as they can act…”

And there it was. Confirmation from Robert that the production team believed her ability to communicate with ghosts was an act, just like Rory had. Before Rory, the team had always been respectful to Lydia. But Rory had clearly brainwashed them. Lydia thought back to all the times Rory and the rest of the team had fallen silent whenever she had entered the room. She hadn’t really thought much about it at the time, but now she knew that Rory had been talking to them about her, no doubt telling them how he thought her act was “bullshit” and that he needed to be the one to be her manager because he could “help” her. And they had let him.

The man had disappeared from her life but was still ruining it.

Lydia clenched her fists, feeling an overwhelming surge of anger. She couldn’t let Rory win anymore. She couldn’t let all the fears and anxieties that he had fuelled continue to take over. She could do this. She wouldn’t let them beat her.

“My ability is not an act,” she said, glaring at Robert. “I can do this. I can take on the assignments.”

Robert and Jeff exchanged glances again. They both looked sceptical, but Lydia wasn’t going to let this bother her.

“Maybe get a makeover too…” Robert added, nodding at Lydia’s outfit. “There’s this great TikTok page with some excellent tutorials. This girl really knows her stuff.”

He held out his phone and showed it to Jeff.

“Super hot too,” he muttered, while Jeff glanced at the young woman’s profile and nodded appreciatively.

Lydia rolled her eyes and stood up. She was done with this meeting.

“I’m happy with the way I look thanks,” she said, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice. “Just send me the details of the assignments.”

“Hmmm? Oh, yeah…will do,” said Jeff, his eyes still fixed on Robert’s phone. A video was playing, and Lydia could hear a young female voice talking excitedly about a new make-up trick.

“We’ll email you when we’ve sent out some applications for potential guests on the show,” said Robert, smirking at Jeff’s appreciative facial expressions as the producer watched the video.

Lydia didn’t answer and stormed out of the room, feeling angry and hurt. As she exited the studio and breathed in the fresh autumn air, she felt tears sting her eyes.

Don’t let it bother you, she thought, angrily wiping away a stray tear. They’re jerks, just like Rory was.

She sighed heavily as she walked down the steps. She had no experience with dangerous spirits and her stomach churned as she thought about entering the buildings. There should have been safety measures in place whenever she entered a haunted building, but there never was. Lydia found herself wondering, at that moment, whether this was because the production company doubted that the ghosts actually existed.

She had been lucky so far but now that the production company wanted her to communicate with unhappy ghosts, Lydia knew that she wouldn’t be able to do this alone.

The only one who could help her was the six-hundred-year-old ghost who she had hoped she wouldn’t have to see so soon after Halloween. She closed her eyes in defeat as she knew that she had no choice but to summon him.

***

The attic was, as usual, cold. Lydia shivered as she stood in front of Adam Maitland’s model, her gaze shifting from the tiny trees and houses to the gravestone of the black and white striped suited bio-exorcist.

There had always been hesitation when summoning him and this time was no different. She knew he would want to make a deal, knew that there would be a quid pro quo. There always was. But this time, she had clear requirements for her side of the deal. She only hoped that he would agree to it.

She closed her eyes, uttered his name three times, and waited for him to appear.

Chapter Text

“You’d better be grateful for this, Geuse.”

Betelgeuse’s mouth curved into a wide smirk as he watched Wolf take a long gulp of coffee. After a lengthy discussion, he had somehow persuaded the head of the Afterlife Crime Unit to take away the harsher punishments for violation of code 699.

“Always grateful to get out of clerical work,” the ghost replied.

“This had better not happen again,” Wolf said, placing Betelgeuse’s file back into the cabinet. “I don’t wanna see you in this office for a long time. Now get outta here.”

Wolf nodded at the door and Betelgeuse threw him one last smirk before exiting the office. Once he was outside, his mask slipped. He should have been relieved that he had, once again, got away with another major crime. And he was. But Wolf had only dropped the punishments on one condition:

Betelgeuse had to build up his bio-exorcist business from scratch again.

“You show me that you can run a successful business and stay out of trouble, and I’ll make sure you don’t get punished for violating code 699,” Wolf had said, holding out a sheet for Betelgeuse to sign. “If you pull out of this, those punishments will be back in place, and you won’t be able to enter the living world.”

Betelgeuse sighed as he thought back to Wolf’s warning. He had lost all his employees, which was his own fault for blowing up the wall of his office and accidentally giving them a passageway to escape into the living world. And his most loyal employee, Bob, was gone. That was his fault too, but Betelgeuse would never admit that.

It had taken him a long time to build up a successful business and now he had nothing. Nada. Zilch. He could, if he wanted to, go freelance again. But if he was honest, the shrinkers had done the mundane part of the job for him, answering the phone calls and dealing with the admin. He got the best part, which was scaring the shit out of the living people that his ghostly customers wanted out of their homes.

But now, without any shrinkers, Betelgeuse would have to do the hardest, boring parts again. His client list had dropped, and it had taken a lot of hard work to gain regular business.

He teleported to his damaged, empty office and glanced around. The Afterlife Crime Unit had managed to retrieve the shrinkers, but Betelgeuse no longer trusted them. Their disloyalty to him still stung. Hell, the breakdown of his business still stung.

He drummed his long fingernails slowly on the desk, wondering where the hell he was going to start. First, he would have to find some new employees. The shrinkers had been easy to order around because of their inability to speak clearly through their sewn-up mouths, but he supposed he could persuade some ghosts to work for him and sew their mouths shut. Skeletons were also a possibility. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about the cost of giving them snacks and regular cups of coffee.

Betelgeuse tapped his chin as he thought about his plan of action and his eyes wandered over the contents of his desk, before settling on the broken photo of the cause of all his problems.

Lydia Deetz, the love of his afterlife.

Her banishment of him had stung a little, but he supposed he should have seen it coming. Perhaps the whole MacArthur Park sequence had been too much, and he needed to take a different approach. He smiled as he thought of Lydia’s comment about the six-hundred-year age gap.

That was the Lydia he loved. The feisty goth girl who had captivated him all those years ago. Seeing her get back to her normal self after what that idiot fiancé of hers had done to her had made the whole of his code violation worth it. The look on her face as she had punched the loser with Betelgeuse’s own black and white punching glove had given him more than just a little tingle.

She had sent him away after he had fulfilled his part of the deal, but he would never give up on her. He chuckled as he thought of the dreams that Lydia had been having. He was still watching her now and then, giving her subtle reminders that he was always close by.

Letting her know that he would always be waiting for her.

Right now, though, he needed to focus on his business. Lydia was too much of a distraction and Betelgeuse needed to try his hardest to push her to the back of his mind.

He promised himself, there and then, that he wouldn’t respond to any of her summonings. That he would focus on his bio-exorcist business first. But Betelgeuse was a ghost in love, and it only took him a minute to break that promise when he heard her uttering his name three times.

He never had been able to ignore her.

***

The model was fading before Lydia’s eyes, the tiny trees and houses now engulfed in thick, green smoke. The scent of grave dirt and moss hit her nostrils, and she breathed in deeply. Some may find such a scent unpleasant, but Lydia liked it. She had a fascination with death, and that included every sight, sound and scent related to it.

She watched, eyes wide in anticipation, as the smoke slowly dissipated, and Betelgeuse came into view. His hair was just as wild as it had been on Halloween and his black and white suit looked a little dishevelled. Lydia wondered how on earth he had managed to piece himself back together after bursting like a balloon in front of her eyes in the church.

She supposed that with him, anything was possible. He was a walking, sometimes floating, enigma.

She should be scared. Anyone would be scared. There he was, standing right in front of her, his arms outstretched, looking, as always, ecstatic at being summoned. The truth was, Lydia didn’t fear him anymore. Whether that was because he had saved Astrid and got rid of Rory, she didn’t know.

But their last encounter had caused something about their…Lydia wasn’t sure what to call it. Certainly not a relationship. Not even a friendship. But whatever it was, their last encounter had caused a shift, a change in their dynamic. But Lydia wouldn’t consider that change large enough for them to be friends.

Yet at that moment, Betelgeuse looked very much like an old friend who was greeting her after years apart, despite Lydia only seeing him just a month ago. There was no sign of annoyance at her banishment of him. No sign of bitterness. Instead, his blue eyes were almost sparkling, and one side of his mouth was curved upwards into a lop-sided grin.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke and Lydia eventually looked away, feeling awkward. Betelgeuse was the one to eventually break the silence.

“I gotta say, I’m surprised. Didn’t expect ya to call me again so soon. Was getting prepared to have to wait another thirty years.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, but he had a point. She herself hadn’t expected to have to summon him again so soon after banishing him.

“I need your help,” she said, wanting to get straight to the point. She had never been good at idle chit chat and quite frankly, their…partnership…or whatever the hell it was…wasn’t at the stage where they could converse comfortably. Not in Lydia’s opinion, anyway.

“Yeah, I kinda guessed that,” the ghost said, tilting his head and studying her. Lydia felt awkward under his gaze and looked away.

“You look tired. Somethin' or someone been keepin’ ya up at night?”

Lydia glared at him. He was smirking at her, clearly wanting her to acknowledge the nightmares and her general feeling of being haunted. She wasn’t going to acknowledge it though. No way.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she said, folding her arms. “I’m not in the mood to deal with any more bullshit today.”

“Such an attitude,” Betelgeuse said, still grinning at her. “I love it.”

Lydia sighed and sat down on the sofa, feeling Betelgeuse’s gaze on her as she did so. She looked up and sure enough, the ghost was still staring at her. Still observing her with that goddamn lop-sided grin still plastered on his face.

“Things aren’t going well with my job,” she said, feeling a bubble of anger as she thought of the meeting with Robert and Jeff, who were probably still salivating over the young, attractive beauty influencer.

Lydia explained her predicament, detailing the things that the producers wanted to change about the show. She left out the part about their problems with her physical appearance. There was little that Betelgeuse could do about that part of her predicament.

Betelgeuse listened throughout it all, never once interrupting. He was surprisingly patient and when Lydia had finished explaining her problem, she found herself feeling a little lighter. She felt a slight twinge in her chest as she thought about how nice it would be to have a good friend to regularly confide in, someone who would understand her problems and listen to her without judgement.

Just like Betelgeuse had done.

And when she had finished, the ghost remained silent. This unnerved Lydia. She watched as he started to pace the room, his long fingernails stroking his chin. He looked like he was thinking hard about her words.

And then, he turned to look at her, and Lydia frowned.

He looked sheepish.

What the hell? Lydia stared at him, frowning. She had never seen him look like that before. Slowly, he walked towards her and sat down on a chair opposite her, releasing a cloud of dust as he did so.

He ran a hand over the back of his neck and when he spoke, his gravelly voice was strained.

“I…er…this might be partly my fault.”

“What?”

“Look, don’t get mad…”

He held his hands up, a move that he was clearly hoping would placate her.

“I…your show…all those hauntings…that was me.”

Lydia stared at him, her mouth hanging open in shock.

“What?”

“I was..er..helping you. Wanted to help your show get lots of fans...”

Lydia’s breathing began to deepen as she tried to digest the news. The show had been a success for many years. She should be grateful. She knew that. But right at that moment, she was seething.

“You interfered with the show?”

He nodded slowly.

“To help the ratings go up. And I always kept it tame to make sure that…ya know…that you never encountered any nasty ghosts. Some of those fuckers out there…even I wouldn’t deal with ‘em.”

Lydia was on her feet now, pacing the room.

“This whole time…it all makes sense now. Every encounter I’ve had has been so similar and so…tame. I’ve never had to deal with any evil spirits.”

She turned to face him.

“The production company never accepted applications from guests who wanted the show to investigate evil spirits. Was that because of you?”

Betelgeuse threw her a look that told her that it was, indeed, because of him.

“Oh my god!” said Lydia, running a hand over her face. “What…how did you…”

“I left leaflets around with my name on, one of the production team found ‘em and summoned me and I gave him a little threat. Told him not to let you investigate evil spirits and not to breathe a word about me helpin’ you out with the show or he would regret it. Guy was terrified. It worked a charm. He destroyed all the applications from guests with evil ghosts in their house.”

Lydia sat down again, her stomach churning unpleasantly as she tried hard to think back to any members of the production team who had behaved as though they were under threat. And then it hit her.

“Jesus…you…Michael, the guy who used to be on the team before Robert took over, he left unexpectedly about five years ago…never gave any reason why…he just quit.”

She turned to face Betelgeuse.

“Was he the one you threatened?”

“Was he tall with glasses, bit of a wimp?”

“Yes.”

“Yep, that was the guy.”

Lydia stared at him in disbelief. All those times she had entered homes and walked around, pots and pans flying past her head, chairs banging against walls, playful “wooooo” noises whooshing in her ears. That had all been Betelgeuse. But how the hell had he done it? How had he even known about her job in the first place? How had he known where to haunt? And how had he done it without interfering with the ghosts who the show’s guests had asked Lydia to communicate with?

Lydia suddenly realised that she must have voiced these questions out loud because Betelgeuse was answering them.

“It was all to do with our psychic connection,” he said. “I knew where you were goin’ to be. I made deals with some of the ghosts, offered my bio-exorcist services in case you were unsuccessful with helping them to live peacefully with the living people in their houses.”

Lydia frowned. Psychic connection? What the hell was he talking about? She wasn’t aware that they had any psychic connection. She had thought that she could feel his presence, had sensed him lingering throughout those thirty-six years, but this was…this was more than just him lingering. This was full-blown stalking, a huge interference with her work life. She wondered how much more of her life he knew about.

“I was the one doin’ all the work, movin’ things around and makin’ noises,” he explained, waving his hands around as he spoke. “That way, ya didn’t have to deal with any ghosts directly and I could have complete control over it all. You were able to safely investigate it while impressin’ your viewers. And when that wimpy guy who I was threatenin’ left, well I found other ways to stop you from encounterin’ evil spirits.”

He held his arms out grinning, looking very much as though he was expecting her to thank him. Lydia glared at him.

“I was lucky,” she said, trying to remain calm. “Lucky, because many ghosts that I communicated with, most of the ones you spoke to, ended up being able to live peacefully with the living. But there was one time when the company was nearly hit with a lawsuit. We were almost sued by a woman who contacted us after coming on the show. She told us that the experience had made her life worse because some “weird-looking guy with tentacles bursting out of his face” had suddenly appeared in her home alongside the ghosts that were already haunting her and scared her out of her home!”

Betelgeuse was still looking at her with that lop-sided grin and Lydia really wanted to wipe it off his face.

“That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Sure was,” he said. “And that’s the fault of the guest. Don’t they have to sign somethin’ sayin’ that they’re appearin’ on the show at their own discretion or some shit? You ain’t always gonna be successful in havin’ them live in peace and harmony with their ghosts.”

“Obviously not, especially when I’ve got someone offering their services to ghosts and trying to drive out the people I’m trying to help! And as for all the tame stuff you’ve been doing, the viewers are getting bored with it and my career is on the line. Thanks. Thanks a bunch.”

“Oh, come on, babe. Look, I know it’s partly my fault, but…”

“Partly your fault? Partly? It’s all your goddamn fault!” said Lydia, raising her voice. “What the hell is wrong with you? How dare you! How dare you interfere with my job? With my life?”

“I was tryin’ to do you a favour!”

“How the hell did you even find the time? I thought you had your own business to run?”

“I did. I got my employees to change around the times of my bio-exorcist jobs so that I could help you and I also got them to make a few calls and leave a few leaflets lyin’ around.”

Lydia stared at him in disbelief. His dedication was admirable, there was no doubt about that. But it was the interference that annoyed her. For years, he had controlled her career without her even knowing. And now, because of him, the show was tanking, failing because the younger generation wanted more excitement.

“This is easily fixable, babe,” he said. “I can do dangerous. I can pretend to be a dangerous spirit. Look…”

And Lydia watched, unflinching, as his head started spinning round and round at a ridiculous speed. He held his hands up to stop it, muttered a dramatic “phew” and then continued speaking.

“I can teleport, do mimicry, move things around. I got a lotta strings to my bow. I can fix this for ya.”

Lydia shook her head.

“No. No, I’m not letting you take control anymore. I’ve spent the last few years of my life being controlled by Rory and now I find out you’ve been controlling my job too! And now I have no choice but to take on riskier assignments, otherwise I’ll get fired. But part of me wants to prove that I can do those assignments. I just need your help communicating with the spirits.”

Betelgeuse shook his head.

“There ain’t no point. The harmless ones, well they’re no doubt easy to deal with. But the dangerous ones? The ones who won’t cross over because they’re bitter and angry? There ain’t no helpin’ them.”

“I have to try,” Lydia said. “I always try to help the ghosts to live in peace with the people whose homes they are haunting. But the viewers want more drama, more danger. They want more entertainment. I don’t agree with it but what can I do? It’s my job.”

Lydia sighed and ran a hand over her face.

“So, you would risk your life for a bunch of idiots who don’t give a shit about your safety?” Betelgeuse asked, crossing his arms.

“What else can I do? I have parental responsibilities. I want to save enough money to give Astrid a good future. She’s the only person I have left.”

“And she won’t have anyone left if you get yourself killed takin’ on one of these tasks,” Betelgeuse said.

Lydia breathed in deeply, not wanting to agree with him. Not wanting to let him talk her out of the mess he had gotten her into.

“I…if only you hadn’t interfered. Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?”

Betelgeuse stared at her for a few moments and shook his head.

“Trust me, I was doin’ you a favour. You have no idea what you would have been dealin’ with.”

“Of course I would,” Lydia snapped. “I can communicate with the dead. Do you really think I’m not aware that some ghosts can be dangerous? I’ve researched it all.”

Betelgeuse let out a hollow laugh.

“It’s one thing researchin’ ‘em and another thing comin’ face to face with ‘em. Some of these poor fuckers have been loitering around for years, refusing to move on. Not even an exorcist could remove ‘em. Some of ‘em possess the ones who move into their homes. The Exorcist is one hell of a funny movie but the reality? The reality is a whole different game. There ain’t no way you’re gonna succeed with this.”

Lydia glared at him, still too angry at his confession to care about his warning. She felt a twinge of something else underneath the anger. Even Betelgeuse himself doubted her abilities and believed she wasn’t capable of dealing with dangerous ghosts on her own. She knew that she wasn’t, of course, but hearing him say it to her out loud had hurt. Rory’s lack of belief in her had stung but for some reason, the thought of Betelgeuse believing that she was incapable of completing her assignments made her feel even worse.

“I want you to help me get out of this mess,” she said. “You got me into it, so you’ll get me out.”

“But…”

“No. You’ll help me or I’ll…”

Her voice trailed off as she watched Betelgeuse’s expression morph into one of anger. He stood up and she suddenly became aware of how much bigger he was than her.

“Or you’ll what? Banish me? And since we’re on the topic of careers being destroyed, babe, my bio-exorcist business ain’t exactly doin’ great either, a result of my decision to help you save your daughter.”

Lydia’s eyes widened at this news.

“That’s right,” Betelgeuse said, taking in her expression. “I took a big risk for ya. Lost all my employees. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I did it. You got your daughter back. But I’m sufferin’ the consequences of it right now.”

Lydia wanted to say that she was sorry, but instead, she placed her head in her hands and groaned. This was all just such a mess.

“I have to do this,” she said. “Not just for the money and because I’ll get fired if I don’t, but for my own personal growth. I need to prove that I can’t be controlled anymore. I want…I want the danger…Rory sucked everything out of me. I’ve always been fascinated by this, and I’ve never been given the chance to widen my ability to communicate with the dead. I want this. But I…I know I can’t do it alone.”

She studied him, watching him carefully as his expression crumpled and she knew, right then, that it would be a struggle for him to refuse her. Finally, he spoke.

“Fine,” he said, reaching inside his suit. “I’ll help ya. But it ain’t gonna be easy, and there’s a quid pro quo…”

“Of course there is,” said Lydia, rolling her eyes. “And that’s also something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Betelgeuse raised his eyebrows, clearly interested. He nodded slowly.

“Go on.”

“I don’t want any weddings this time. I’ll help you with anything you need in return for your help. But I don’t want any more marriage attempts. This…partnership…or whatever the hell it is…will be purely business. So, if your quid pro quo is you wanting me to marry you, then I guess I’ll have to…try and do this alone.”

She watched as the ghost studied her for a few moments. He chuckled, then spoke.

“Actually, I wasn’t goin’ to ask you to marry me.”

Lydia raised her eyebrows.

“Oh,” she said, surprised at this news. “So, you don’t want to marry me?”

“Nope.”

Lydia looked away. Well, that made things a lot easier. Somewhere, deep down, she felt a little stab of something. Just a tiny stab. It was very deep down, but it was there. Was she offended by his unexpected rejection? If she was, then Lydia could only guess that such a feeling was because all the negativity that she had been forced to endure about her physical appearance earlier that day had left her feeling a little over-sensitive.

“What I want from ya,” said Betelgeuse, tapping the contract he had pulled out of his jacket. “Is your help with gettin’ my business back on track. I help you with these new dangerous assignments, you help me get more customers for my business by communicatin’ with ghosts. Do all the promotion. Be my personal assistant. Obviously, I’ll have to build up a team down there…”

He pointed downwards, gesturing to the afterlife.

“But you can do all the hard work up here. I need help getting it back on track or else my ass will be on the line. I’ll be facin’ some bad punishments if I don’t achieve this.”

Lydia thought hard about this and frowned.

“But surely you can easily get new customers yourself?” she said, but Betelgeuse shook his head.

“It ain’t always been easy. Takes time to gain people’s trust. And with you on my team, well, ya can share a few stories about me, tell them how I saved the Maitlands and your daughter. Give ‘em a few examples of my bio-exorcist work. Like I said, you’ll be my personal assistant.”

“And how am I supposed to fit this around my own assignments? I try to help the dead communicate with the living and live with them in peace. I can’t do that if I’m working with you and trying to persuade ghosts to use your services to scare the living out of their homes. Like I said earlier, it puts us at risk of lawsuits.”

“You said the audience want drama, so we’ll give em’ some. Make the relationships between the dead and the living a little more complicated.”

“I’m not doing that,” said Lydia firmly. “I want to create peace between them, not make things worse.”

“It don’t always work like that,” Betelgeuse replied. “Some ghosts…there ain’t no way of makin’ ‘em happy unless they’ve got their homes back.”

Lydia thought hard about his words. She had read a lot about vengeful spirits online and Betelgeuse did have a point. Some ghosts simply didn’t want to co-exist with the living and while Adam and Barbara had developed a good friendship with her, she found herself understanding why the young ghost couple had initially wanted the Deetz family out of their house. To them, the family had been intruders, taking their home away from them. It wasn’t always possible for such feelings to be resolved.

Lydia felt torn. The deal would mean that while she would be trying to create peace between dangerous spirits and the living to boost the ratings of her show, she would also be driving them apart to help Betelgeuse’s business. But, somewhere deep down amongst all the anxiety, Lydia couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement. It was wrong. It went against everything she wanted when it came to helping ghosts and their living houseguests. But Lydia felt a thrill and she couldn’t help but feel that she owed him just as much as he owed her.

And Betelgeuse was right – if the guests had signed an agreement confirming that they would appear on the show at their own discretion, then that would solve everything. The fact that the company hadn’t had such an agreement in place to start with was just another confirmation that the production team didn’t believe in ghosts and that the whole thing was simply for entertainment. That Lydia’s “act” was fake.

Such thoughts gave Lydia a surge of determination. And so, she made her decision.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “But it’s strictly business. No weddings, no romance, no inappropriate weirdness.”

“Babe, we’re both a bit weird,” said Betelgeuse, smirking at her.

“You know what I mean,” snapped Lydia. “We need to keep it purely professional.”

Betelgeuse’s face was scrunched up and it looked like he was having an inner battle with himself. Finally, after a few moments, he sighed deeply, nodded and added a clause to the contract. He held it out for Lydia to read.

I, Betelgeuse, agree to enter a work partnership with Lydia Deetz. I agree to keep the relationship professional, and no marriage attempts will be made to the aforementioned Miss Deetz. There will be no declarations of love, and no inappropriate behaviour. I shall accompany her to all her work assignments, stand by her through any dangerous occurrences and help her to achieve her goal of gaining better ratings for Ghost House. I understand that breaking this deal will cause this contract to become null and void and the partnership will be terminated.

Lydia’s eyes raked over the words, feeling a little shocked that, unlike with the wedding contract he had produced on Halloween, he was allowing her to look properly at their agreement this time. She nodded, satisfied with the clause, and then watched as he pricked his hand with a quill and signed it.

Then, he showed her the other part of the contract, the part that she was required to sign.

I, Lydia Deetz, agree to enter a work partnership with Betelgeuse. I agree to keep the relationship professional, with no romantic advances being made to the aforementioned Betelgeuse, despite the aforementioned Betelgeuse feeling a little tingle at the thought of such advances being made.

Lydia shot Betelgeuse a look and he flashed her a grin. She rolled her eyes and continued reading.

There will be no declarations of love, and no inappropriate behaviour. I shall assist him with rebuilding his bio-exorcist business and help him to gain new clients. I shall stand by him through any difficulties, put any past disagreements behind us and help him achieve his goal of creating a successful bio-exorcist business. I understand that breaking this deal will cause this contract to become null and void and the partnership will be terminated.

She glanced up at him and gave a small nod. Betelgeuse took her hand, and she winced as he pricked her palm with the quill. He placed her hand on the contract and Lydia watched as her signature appeared on the paper in fresh red blood beneath his black bloody one.

And then Betelgeuse stuffed the contract into his jacket and held out his hand. Lydia grasped it with her much smaller one and shook it, sealing the deal.

Chapter Text

When a person loves someone, sometimes it's just hard for that person to let go, no matter how much they are being ignored. Such was the case with Betelgeuse, who had never been successful at removing Lydia from his brain, even when she had ignored him.

“Long-distance relationships can be difficult, especially when one of you is dead and the other is ignoring you for thirty years.”

Those words that he had uttered to Bob were the damn truth. He ran a hand over his face, knowing damn well that his interference with Lydia’s job had had just as much to do with his desperation to get her to notice him as it had with his goal of keeping her safe.

For thirty-six years, she had been nestled in his brain. He had tried, very hard at points, to focus on his goal of gaining a place back in the living world.

But she had made it damn hard.

No matter how many other women he had tried to marry in those years, no matter how many people he tried to trick into saying his name, he couldn’t…wouldn’t…move on from her.

And on the occasions when he had, momentarily, been distracted, the rare moments when she hadn’t been on his mind, his thoughts had always drifted back to her. She was like a drug. Like a goddamn perennial plant that just continued to grow and blossom in his brain, entering brief moments of dormancy, but always coming back.

And the seed had been planted that day in the attic, thirty-six years ago.

This was going to be, without a doubt, the hardest deal that Betelgeuse had ever entered. When Lydia had told him, more firmly than he would have liked, that she didn’t want any marriage attempts or declarations of love from him, it had been hard, almost painful, for him to agree to the deal.

At that moment, at the moment when she had told him that she didn’t want any more weddings, his ticket to the living world had been torn in two. Ripped into tiny pieces and then tossed away. He had almost envisioned the pieces floating around him. The Betelgeuse from thirty-six years ago, the one who made that first rushed marriage attempt, would have been livid. But this Betelgeuse, the Betelgeuse who had at some point fallen in love, no longer cared about it. He didn’t care that she wasn’t going to grant him a permanent place back in the living world.

What he did care about, was that this deal meant that he wasn’t able to woo her anymore. Wasn’t even able to compliment her or say anything that may deem their new work partnership inappropriate.

His feelings during that second wedding attempt had been genuine and Betelgeuse had, despite being a tad hurt, accepted the fact that it had been yet another failure, believing that he would be able to woo her another way. But, as usual, he had shot himself in the fucking foot. He had ruined his last wedding attempt by causing the contract to become null and void after his violation of code 699, which he had broken for her. And now, he had ruined any further attempts to woo her by entering a contract promising not to make any other wedding attempts or declarations of love to her.

All because he had tried to help her with her TV show. All because he had tried, for years, to keep her safe.

The strange and unusual girl, who he had watched blossom into a beautiful woman, had caused him so many problems. But still, he loved her.

He would walk through fire, be tossed into the Fires of Damnation if he had to, for her. He knew some of these spirits would be dangerous, that they would possibly have abilities that were far too much to deal with, even for him. But still, he had agreed to help her. He agreed to put himself in danger. For her.

It was rare for ghosts to be able to harm other spirits, but Betelgeuse knew that it wasn’t an impossibility. Delores was an example of that. His most loyal employee, Bob, was proof of it, along with the other poor fuckers whose souls she had taken. The soul suckers and the evil spirits with unexplained abilities even greater than his own were all dangers to ghosts. Any ghost could die permanently at the hands of the angry, vengeful spirits who haunted the homes of those who had wronged them. Betelgeuse had been in the afterlife for six hundred years. He had seen such spirits. There was no stopping them. Not even the Afterlife Crime Unit would be able to successfully handle them.

Some of them, the ones who had been forgotten about by the afterlife and left to haunt homes for centuries, had gone insane. Even more chaotic than Betelgeuse himself had been in the early days of his afterlife. Such insanity was dangerous, and these wild spirits would not rest until they had caused harm.

Some of them wouldn’t rest at all.

It took a lot to scare Betelgeuse, but right now, at that moment, he was worried. He had tried, for so many years, to protect Lydia. To stop her from encountering these sad, angry, depressed, or just plain evil ghosts. And now she was going to be put in the dangerous situations he had tried so hard to help her avoid. He had a business to rebuild and initially, before they had properly discussed the deal, that was all he had cared about. He hadn’t planned on asking her to marry him again, instead wanting her help with his business in exchange for his help with the show. But now, now that they had made the deal, all he cared about was keeping her safe. And if that meant that he couldn’t make any marriage attempts, couldn’t do anything to woo her, couldn’t tell her or show her how much he loved her, then so be it.

Betelgeuse never backed out of deals, and he certainly wasn’t going to back out of this one.

He would give up all his attempts to win her and bury his feelings. He would keep it purely professional, just like she had asked him to. Just to keep her safe.

He couldn’t lose her.

***

When a person has been haunted for more than thirty years, it’s hard for that person to believe that they have just entered a deal that will place them in very close proximity with the person who has been haunting them.

Lydia sighed and placed her head in her hands, wondering if she had made the right decision. The bubble of anger she had felt upon learning that Betelgeuse had interfered with her job was still there. The goddamn nerve of the ghost, thinking that he could just control her work life like that. She should be grateful, she knew that. For years, Betelgeuse had kept her safe and prevented her from communicating with dangerous ghosts. But Lydia couldn’t help but feel that by doing so, he had also stopped her from stretching her abilities. She felt as though Betelgeuse had been controlling her and his interference had shattered the one last bit of belief in herself that had been left in the aftermath of her relationship with Rory.

She couldn’t blame Betelgeuse for the criticisms of her appearance though. None of that was his fault.

Once a person becomes aware of such criticisms, it can sometimes be hard to resist looking online again and searching for other nasty comments. There was a bubbling need to know, a need to see what else people had to say, even if it caused more harm. Lydia was sat there now, scrolling through the comments, wishing that Robert Forrester had never told her about them.

The viewers, it became clear, had more than just a small problem with Lydia’s age and attire, with one person even going as far as to list other more attractive, younger presenters who they believed would be better for the job. Another had suggested having someone more “normal” take over the role, rather than the “strange lady who is way too old to be dressing like that.”

It stung. It really stung. Lydia had always known that she was strange and unusual and for a long time she had accepted it. Such a personality was ideal for a TV show about ghosts. Or so she had thought. Clearly these younger viewers wanted someone younger. Someone prettier. Someone normal.

Lydia closed her eyes, trying hard not to let the comments upset her. But rather than putting her phone down and moving away from it, she found herself typing in the name of the young beauty influencer who had recommended checking out her TikTok tutorials. She sighed as she scrolled through the videos, each one featuring the young woman in perfectly applied makeup. A Halloween makeup tutorial caught Lydia's eye, and she clicked on it. The woman was talented, Lydia couldn’t deny that.

She felt an uncharacteristic stab of envy. Lydia had always had nice skin, her pale complexion free of any blemishes. It was surprisingly smooth for her age, and she had never felt any need to consider any cosmetic treatments. She had never been the type to be jealous of other women’s looks. But now, as she watched the younger woman applying makeup, Lydia found herself envying her silky-looking blonde hair and rosy cheeks.

Perhaps, she thought, her life would have been a lot easier if she looked like that. If she had ditched the gothic attire when she was younger, then perhaps her adult life would have been different. Perhaps these new, younger viewers would have accepted her more easily. But she would still have the same strange and unusual personality, and they hated that too.

Perhaps the world simply wasn’t big enough for people like her.

To Lydia’s horror, she began to cry. Whether it was a menopause thing or a result of Rory’s deceit, she didn’t know, but these days, things bothered her far more than they had just a few years ago. She wiped her eyes quickly, not wanting Astrid to return home and see her like this. The teenager was out with friends and the last thing that Lydia wanted was for her daughter to see her crying over a few online comments.

She sighed and was about to close the forum down when she noticed an email notification come through. She clicked it and her eyes widened as they raked over the contents of Forrester’s message. It was a new assignment. And it sounded dangerous.

Lydia quickly tried to compose herself and took a deep breath, before going up to the attic to summon her new business partner.

***

Betelgeuse noticed straight away.

Not only did he think he had the right to interfere with her job, but he was also far too goddamn observant. Lydia had tried to hide the redness around her eyes but to no avail. She was currently trying to divert his attention to the new assignment they had been given, but he wasn’t having any of it. He was a very persistent ghost, another trait which irritated the hell out of Lydia.

“Just forget about it, it’s nothing,” she snapped, as Betelgeuse moved closer to her and started examining her face.

“It doesn’t look like nothin’ to me,” he said. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing.”

Lydia’s phone was still clutched in her hand. In her haste to open Forrester’s email, she had forgotten to close the page with the unpleasant comments on them.

“Is this about your job?”

“No.”

“You’re lyin’.”

“How the hell…I’m not lying! What makes you think I am?”

“You look upset.”

Lydia opened her mouth to respond but instead found herself sighing. There was absolutely nothing Betelgeuse could do about this part of her predicament, so there was no point in mentioning it. But the goddamn ghost was being so stubborn.

“Look, it’s…it’s not your concern.”

Betelgeuse tilted his head, studying her.

“If it’s about the job, then it is my concern,” he said. “We’re business partners now, remember?”

“This part of it is my concern, there’s nothing you can do. It’s…it’s just a few silly comments that’s all. Nothing major.”

Betelgeuse’s eyes shifted from Lydia to her phone and before she could utter any words of protest, he had swiped the device out of her hand.

“Hey!”

Lydia tried to take it back, but he moved it out of her reach and looked at the screen. She watched as his long-nailed thumb scrolled through the comments, his blue eyes widening as he looked at the words on the screen. Lydia groaned inwardly, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What if he agreed with them? What if Betelgeuse, like all those viewers who had written nasty things, thought that she was too old, too gothic, and too strange and unusual? Lydia shouldn’t care what he of all people thought about her but at that moment, for some reason, his opinion of her suddenly mattered.

Her heart thumped against her chest as she waited, and she watched as his expression morphed from confusion into pure anger.

“Who the fuck has written this?”

“It’s…it’s just some viewers. People who have started watching the show.”

“And you’re gonna let these fuckers talk about you like that?”

“It’s their opinion. There’s not a lot I can do to change it. Like I said, it’s not your concern.”

“What the hell is this thing anyway?” Betelgeuse asked, nodding at the forum.

“It’s a forum about the show. People create an account and then make posts about it.”

“Can you make one?”

“Make what?” Lydia asked him, frowning.

“An account.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

She watched as Betelgeuse started tapping on her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doin’? I’m makin’ an account. Ain’t no way these fuckers are gonna keep talkin’ about ya like that!”

“No don’t!” said Lydia, trying to grab the phone out of his hand, but he held it up high out of her reach.

“You can’t like people speak about you like that, Lyds. It ain’t right.”

“They’re viewers with their own opinions. I can’t stop them.”

“Well, you should do. I’m the kinda guy who speaks my mind, and I admire other people who do, but this? This is wrong.”

“There’s nothing I can do. The producers like to have a forum so that they can look at people’s opinions. They agree with everything these younger viewers have said.”

Betelgeuse’s eyes widened.

“What?”

Lydia sighed. She hadn’t wanted to discuss this part of her problem. She suddenly felt silly for getting so bothered about the opinions of the producers and the viewers.

“The producers showed me the comments. They…they recommended that I change my appearance. It’s…look, it’s nothing. Just a few silly comments.”

“The fuckin’ producers have asked you to change the way you look? Tell me you ain’t gonna listen to them?”

Lydia looked away and she heard him let out a hollow laugh.

“Jesus, Lyds. You can’t let ‘em get away with that.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do? They aren’t happy with –”

To Lydia’s horror, she found herself choking up again.

“I...I don’t want to discuss this. We need to talk about the assignment. That’s far more important.”

Betelgeuse shook his head.

 “They don’t get to make you feel like that. It ain’t right and it ain’t true. You’re beau –”

His voice quickly cut off and he cleared his throat loudly. Lydia frowned at him, unable to understand what he had been trying to say. Betelgeuse wasn’t going to finish his sentence though. Instead, he pulled out the contract and pointed to it.

“I know, I know. Strictly professional, strictly business. No inappropriate comments or anythin.’ But I’ll tell you this…you shouldn’t let those idiots, especially your producers, speak about ya like that. Want me to have a word with ‘em?”

Lydia rolled her eyes.

“No, that will just make things worse. Look, let’s…let’s just leave it. I...I’ll be fine.”

Betelgeuse opened his mouth to speak but she held up a hand to cut him off. She didn’t want to discuss this anymore. The last thing she wanted was for him to cause problems with the producers. But despite her not wanting to take the discussion any further, she couldn't help but wonder what Betelgeuse had been about to say before he had quickly cleared his throat…

She shook her head and quickly reached forward, finally grabbing the phone out of his hand. He was about to protest but Lydia held her finger up to silence him and showed him the email that Forrester had sent. Betelgeuse’s eyes widened as he read the details of Lydia’s assignment, and his expression morphed into one of concern.

“Jesus, this is gonna be a tough one,” he said, his long fingernails stroking his chin. “This fucker needs removin’ from the house completely and there ain’t no way you’re gonna succeed with it.”

Lydia pulled the phone away from him and placed her hands on her hips. There it was again, his lack of belief in her. True, it was going to be a difficult assignment. The guest’s application form had been attached to Forrester’s email and Lydia could see from the strange things that had happened in the woman’s house that the ghost was a vicious one. But Betelgeuse’s comment had offended her. She wanted him to believe in her, wanted him to tell her that creating peace between the dangerous ghost and his living houseguest wasn’t an impossibility.

“I have to try,” Lydia said after a few moments of silence, but Betelgeuse shook his head. He began to list off all the strange things that the woman had described in her application.

“Things bein’ moved around, sayin’ and doin’ things against her will. Sounds like this ghost is possessin’ her. She needs an exorcist. You can’t do this. Hell, even I can’t do this.”

“We made a deal,” said Lydia, glaring at him. “We agreed to do this. We have to try. We just need to come up with a plan.”

Betelgeuse sighed.

“Well first,” he said, “We need to get a good idea of this ghost’s patterns of behaviour. Do a little training. There’s only one way we can prepare ourselves for this…”

He was silent for a moment and Lydia waited impatiently for him to continue.

“Well?” she finally said.

He looked at her, grinning.

“Let’s watch The Exorcist.”

***

Lydia didn’t quite understand why Betelgeuse found the idea of a twelve-year-old girl being possessed by a demon so funny but there he was, at that moment, clutching his sides and howling with laughter. She sighed at the screen, watching as Regan projectile vomited all over Father Karras.

“Gets fuckin’ funnier every single time,” Betelgeuse said, wiping away an invisible tear. Lydia didn’t laugh, instead continuing to stare at the screen. She felt Betelgeuse’s gaze on her and sighed, picking up the remote to pause the movie.

“But like you said the other day, it’s not as funny in reality, is it?”

Betelgeuse sighed and shook his head.

“Nope.”

“So, this is what we’ll be dealing with? Projectile vomiting, head-turning and…”

Lydia’s voice trailed off. She couldn’t quite bring herself to mention that scene with the crucifix.

Betelgeuse nodded.

“Yep, and that’s just the start of it. It’ll be a whole lot worse than that.”

“I’m done with the movie for now, I need to get to bed early anyway. Robert wants me to do the investigation tomorrow. We usually record it first, then edit it and play the footage to the studio audience and viewers at home while talking to the guest. I’ll send you the details of the location.”

“No need,” said Betelgeuse.

Lydia frowned.

“But you’ll need to know where I’ll…”

Her words trailed off and she watched as Betelgeuse tapped his head.

“No need,” he repeated. “Psychic connection. I’ll know where to find ya. I’ll meet you there.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a tiny mirror.

“Use this to summon me. I’ll be able to hear ya through it. Let me know when you’re at the location, call my name usin’ this and I’ll be with ya straight away.”

Lydia nodded and before she could speak, he clicked his fingers and disappeared, leaving behind a thin wisp of green smoke.

She wasn't done with the movie. Instead, she watched it from the beginning, making notes on the unpleasant effect that the demon’s possession had on the poor, innocent young Regan. Lydia’s stomach churned unpleasantly as she thought of the challenges that she and Betelgeuse were about to face. Challenges that were beyond even Betelgeuse’s capabilities.

She didn’t sleep well that night.

Chapter Text

The filming of the investigation was always the toughest part. Lydia had never needed to act in front of the camera. Her reactions to the ghosts she met were always one hundred percent natural, and that was what had angered her the most about Rory’s words in the church. Her ability wasn’t an act. It was something she had discovered and embraced, and it had been hard to hear someone who was supposed to love and support her tell her that he had never believed in her.

But despite Lydia wanting her reactions to remain natural, the process of having the camera in her face and an entire TV crew on the site always brought with it the pressure to overact. She always tried to treat the ghosts she encountered respectfully, and somehow it felt insulting to give the audience false reactions to such spirits, no matter how much the viewers wanted to see those reactions.

“Give ‘em plenty of drama,” Jeff had said over the phone to a sleep-deprived Lydia that morning.

Lydia had merely grunted in response, trying to push visions of the twelve-year-old possessed Regan MacNeil out of her head. The girl’s white eyes had burned themselves into Lydia’s brain.

She knew she shouldn’t have watched the movie again before going to bed. Lydia had never struggled with horror movies, even finding comfort in their macabre storylines and gory images. But last night, for the first time, she had suffered nightmares, waking with a gasp, certain she could feel Regan’s hands around her throat.

She had listened, trying hard not to fall asleep, as Jeff had told her to “really ramp up the action and overact,” and eventually, she had ended the call, unable to stand hearing his gruff voice in her ear anymore.

The production team was desperate to impress these new viewers, and Lydia felt more pressure than ever. Even the thought of having her new business partner near her wasn’t bringing her any comfort.

Betelgeuse was a powerful ghost. Lydia knew that. She had seen many of his skills and had even been secretly impressed by his abilities. But today, they were both going to be dealing with something far beyond any of their skills. Far beyond Betelgeuse’s skills.

Lydia knew that she had to be brave. She had to show the producers and even Betelgeuse himself that she could handle this. Many of these spirits were bitter and angry, unable to form the connection with their living houseguests that Lydia had been able to form with the Maitlands.

Lydia had to try. She had to try and create peace.

She couldn’t…wouldn’t…fail.

Unknown to her though, her black-and-white-striped suited business partner had already come up with his own plan…

***

Lydia couldn’t help but scoff at the production crew. She watched as they wandered around outside the house she was about to enter. Robert Forrester stood nearby, muttering something to the cameraman, his hands in his pockets. The nonchalant pose irritated Lydia.

The production team wanted her to take on more dangerous assignments but clearly didn’t believe in evil spirits because no one had mentioned anything to Lydia about safety measures, nor were there any crew members present who would be able to safely get Lydia out of the building if she found herself in an unsafe situation.

Here they all were, acting as though Lydia was about to enter the woman’s home and announce that the woman had won a million dollars rather than help her find peace with a dangerous spirit.

Usually, Ghost House’s guests were removed from their property during Lydia’s investigations, but this time, the woman had insisted on being present while Lydia communicated with the spirit. Lydia hoped that the production team had taken the time to create a form asking the guest to sign and show their understanding that their appearance on the show was at their own discretion; the risk of this investigation ending badly was huge.

“Fifteen minutes, Lydia!” Robert called.

Lydia took a deep breath. She had fifteen minutes to call her business partner and compose herself. She suddenly realised that they hadn’t even discussed a plan – she wasn’t entirely sure at what point Betelgeuse was planning to show up during the investigation. She wished he had stayed longer last night, that they had come up with some sort of plan of action. Now, they had little time to discuss it.

Her stomach churned unpleasantly as she gently rubbed the small mirror Betelgeuse had given her and uttered his name three times. She jumped in surprise as his face appeared in the glass – she had been expecting him to appear next to her.

“Safer this way,” he said, as he took in her expression. “Don’t want your production team seein’ me just yet.”

Lydia opened her mouth to speak, but Betelgeuse cut her off. “I’ll meet you in there. No need to call me again.”

He disappeared, leaving Lydia feeling a little irritated. He was always such a goddamn mystery, never explaining anything to her. When was he planning to appear again? And how the hell was he going to try and avoid being seen by the TV crew?

Lydia knew that people could see Betelgeuse. Delia and her father had been able to see him all those years ago in the Winter River House. The influencers in the church had been able to see him. He wasn’t a regular ghost, that was for sure.

What form would he take? Lydia had no idea what was going to happen, and she tried to regulate her breathing as her nerves took over. She closed her eyes, and as she did so, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

She opened her eyes and saw the woman whose house she was about to enter standing in front of her. Her light-blonde hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and huge bags sat underneath her large, pale blue eyes. She looked like she hadn’t slept in months.

“I’m Kate,” the woman said, holding out a small hand for Lydia to shake. She was small in stature, like Lydia, and her body language gave Lydia the impression that she was a very meek woman.

“Hi Kate,” Lydia said politely, taking the woman’s hand. She was about to pull her hand away, but in a move that surprised Lydia, Kate grasped it.

“Please help me,” she said, her voice small and so quiet that it was almost a whisper. “I just…I just want to live in peace. I…”

Lydia felt a twinge in her chest. How long, she wondered, had this poor woman been forced to share her home with her dangerous houseguest? Lydia thought of Forrester telling her that the audience wanted excitement. There was nothing exciting about this. Certainly not to normal, compassionate people who found nothing entertaining about watching people suffer at the hands of evil spirits. But Lydia knew that she wasn’t normal, and underneath the nerves and the apprehension, there was something else. Just a little twinge, but it was there. A tiny thrill, perhaps? Or maybe just pure morbid curiosity. Lydia didn’t know what it was, but she couldn’t deny that it was there.

She shouldn’t be experiencing such a feeling. Poor Kate looked exhausted, beaten down. Her eyes, Lydia thought, looked dead. Lydia swallowed, her throat feeling dry. Feelings of guilt bubbled in her stomach, clashing with the other sensations and causing her to feel slightly nauseous. Finally, she placed her hand over Kate’s and spoke, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

“I’ll try. You’ve signed a form, right? You know the risks?”

Kate nodded, her dead eyes making the woman look almost robotic, and Lydia wondered why she was choosing to have her awful experience televised rather than seeking the private services of an exorcist instead. She could only assume that Kate was desperate and that such desperation often made people do things that wouldn’t be deemed normal.

Relieved that Kate had signed a form, Lydia continued to grasp her hand and was about to speak, but Forrester’s voice cut her off.

“We start filming in two minutes!” he shouted.

Lydia’s gaze shifted from Robert back to Kate.

“Look,” she said quickly. “I’ll be honest, and you probably know this already because it should be on the form you signed, but there is a chance I won’t be successful at this.”

Lydia hated voicing the possibility of failure out loud. She so desperately wanted to be positive about it all, to reassure Kate that her problem would be solved. But she couldn’t.

Honesty was the best policy.

And in this case, it was important for guests to understand that Ghost House’s investigations weren’t always successful. A lawsuit was the last thing that the show needed right now, especially after the drop in viewers.

Kate nodded again, and there was a twinge of something in her expression. Defeat? Sadness? Lydia wasn’t sure. What she was sure about, though, was that she was going to try her hardest to make her first dangerous assignment a successful one.

***

Lydia felt it straight away. Gone was the gentle, cool breeze that usually hit her upon entering a haunted home, replaced with an ice-cold gust that followed her and Kate throughout the house. The house was cluttered, with clothes strewn across the backs of chairs and books piled high in every corner.

Lydia’s nose wrinkled as the pungent stench of death, with undertones of something else unpleasant, hit her nostrils. At the far end of the living room, she could see two black cats sitting on the windowsill. Their eyes followed the two women as they walked, their gentle purring the only sound in the room. Lydia turned around to address the camera, which, like the eyes of the two cats, was following her and Kate’s every move.

Lydia began speaking her usual dialogue, which would later be played back to the studio audience and the viewers watching at home. Her investigations would always start with an introduction, where she would inform the audience of what she was doing and alert their attention to any strange happenings. Those past strange happenings, she now knew, had all been Betelgeuse’s work. The flying pots and pans, the creaking cupboards, the playful noises, and the floating inanimate objects. They had all been him.

Lydia wondered when he was going to appear and once again found herself wishing that they had made a plan of action. So far, there had been no sight of any ghost.

That all changed when they reached the bedroom.

It all happened so fast. The ice-cold gust that had followed them around became even colder, if that were possible, and the atmosphere changed. Lydia’s ability not only enabled her to communicate with ghosts but also to feel their emotions, and right now, she was being hit with a barrage of feelings.

Depression. Bitterness. Anger.

She turned around to address the camera again, to tell the audience that she could feel something. As she spoke, she felt a sudden whoosh of cool air, as though something had rushed past her, and Kate, who had been standing beside her, suddenly stumbled and shuddered. Lydia watched in horror as the woman's eyeballs began to slowly turn upwards, causing her pale blue irises to disappear, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Then, a noise very similar to the one Lydia had heard come out of twelve-year-old Regan MacNeil in the Exorcist escaped Kate’s throat.

Lydia stepped back, wanting to address the camera but too stunned to speak. She quickly turned around and watched as Andy, the cameraman, slowly lowered his equipment, his eyes wide in shock. Lydia held up a hand, signalling for him to continue filming. She hated giving this instruction at a moment when Kate was vulnerable, but the production team wouldn’t want the audience to miss this.

She turned back to face Kate, her heart rate quickening as her eyes fixed on the woman’s eyeballs. Slowly, Kate's head turned around, a low moan escaping her throat as she did so. Lydia stepped forward and took a deep breath.

Where the hell was Betelgeuse?

Lydia tried not to panic. He had told her that he would meet her inside the house, but so far, Lydia hadn’t seen any sign of his presence. She knew that whatever was possessing Kate at this moment wasn’t Betelgeuse. She could feel the anger emanating from the spirit inside the woman’s body.

She gently reached a hand out and let out a gasp of shock, pulling her hand back as Kate’s head suddenly snapped back around to face her. Then, the woman’s small mouth grew wider and wider, and Lydia watched in horror as thin lips curled back to reveal small, sharp teeth. Then, without warning, Kate lurched forward and tried to grab her. Before the woman could reach her, though, Lydia was pulled out of the way by an invisible force.

Her business partner had finally arrived.

Lydia held her hand up, hoping that Betelgeuse would understand the signal. Hoping that he would still give her the chance to deal with this by herself. She had to help Kate. She had to succeed. She stepped towards Kate again, the woman’s white eyeballs and stretched mouth burning themselves into her brain. She gingerly reached out and tried to keep her voice clear and firm as she spoke.

“May I ask who you are? Are you a friend of Kate’s? A relative?”

She was going to keep it polite but informal. Casual. She had to keep her cool. She had to communicate with the ghost in a way that wouldn’t anger it even further.

The possessed Kate didn’t reply, instead continuing to emit a low, rumbling growl. Lydia could see thin streaks of saliva running down the side of the woman’s mouth. She glanced around and saw Andy clutching his camera tightly, his face full of fear.

“I mean no harm,” Lydia said. “I just want to talk to you a little. Get to know you. Is that ok?”

She gently held out a hand in the hope that it would placate the spirit.

“Why don’t you come out of there? Show yourself? We can…we can chat.”

The wide grin on Kate’s face slowly disappeared, and her large, joker-like mouth curved upward into a sneer. And then, the spirit spoke. It had one voice, but it sounded like two people speaking at the same time. One tone was a low, deep growl, the other higher pitched. The sound was terrifying, but Lydia felt that sensation in her stomach. That feeling of morbid curiosity.

“Who are you? Why are you here?”

The words came out slowly, the two-tone voice rattling from inside Kate’s throat. Lydia took a deep breath before replying.

“My name is Lydia Deetz, and I’m a psychic mediator. I’m here to make things better for you and Kate.”

Kate’s mouth, which had still been curved into a sneer, formed an unpleasant grin. But the spirit didn’t reply. Instead, it continued to study Lydia through the woman’s white eyes.

“I can help you,” Lydia said gently. “I…”

She took a deep breath, determined to stay brave.

“I just want to…get to know you a little. Kate came to us for help.”

Lydia winced slightly as she spoke. She hoped that releasing this information wouldn’t annoy the spirit, that it wouldn’t be angry at Kate for reaching out to someone after months and months of being haunted. The spirit was quiet for a few moments before speaking again.

“We don’t need help,” the voice said. “I’m her husband…”

Lydia’s eyes widened. Kate had not included this information on her form when applying to appear on the show – the woman clearly had no idea that her husband had been the one haunting her. Lydia frowned. She had heard of vengeful spirits, but this seemed strange. Why on earth would a husband haunt his wife in such a brutal way?

“You’re…you’re her husband? But, but why are you doing this?”

Lydia hoped that it wasn’t too rude to ask, but she couldn’t help but feel curious about the whole situation. As she glanced at Kate’s dead white eyes and wide sharp-toothed grin, she just couldn’t understand why a ghost would want to cause their living loved one so much pain and grief.

Lydia knew that some ghosts couldn’t move on, just like some living people who had lost their loved ones couldn’t move on. Ghosts could be consumed by grief, just like the loved ones they had left behind. Such spirits would haunt the people they loved, but this seemed much more dangerous, much more brutal. What had Kate done to her husband for him to torture her like this? This wasn’t just a case of being haunted, this was a demonic possession. Months and months of Kate being controlled, being forced to do things she couldn’t remember.

Lydia’s heart thumped wildly against her chest as the spirit spoke again.

“I want her to join me in death. We belong together. I will not rest until I’ve taken her.”

“Taken her? What do you mean?”

Lydia watched as the possessed Kate clasped her fingers together and leaned forward. A cold gust surrounded Lydia, and she shivered. The white eyes were fixed on Lydia’s brown ones, and when the spirit spoke, its two-tone voice was low and menacing.

“I will not rest until I have taken her life. Our ghosts will be joined together, and we can depart from here and be together forever.”

Lydia swallowed hard, suddenly desperate for a drink to soothe her dry throat. This ghost was not going to rest until he had driven Kate to insanity. Lydia had researched incidents like this. She had heard of people being haunted to the point of taking their own lives. There was a lot of scepticism around such reports, particularly as there was little or no proof of ghosts causing people’s deaths. The only people who knew for certain were people like Lydia, who had the ability to see what some ghosts were capable of.

It seemed like such a cruel action for a dead husband to carry out. Betelgeuse had been right – there was nothing funny about real-life possessions. For Lydia, it had been bad enough seeing it happen to a fictional character on the screen. She took a deep breath and spoke.

“I…wouldn’t it be far better for you to let Kate live peacefully with you instead? That way, you would both be happy. You want her to be happy, don’t you?”

The spirit growled, and Lydia stepped back.

“You think I’m happy with her continuing to live her life without me?”

“But she won’t be without you. You’re…you’re here. She’ll know you're watching over her. All this anger, it…it’s not good for you. It’s not her time to go yet.”

The possessed Kate stomped her foot, and the low rumbling emitting from her throat grew louder. Lydia knew that she was probably saying the wrong things, but what else could she do? She wasn’t an exorcist. She could only try her best and she hoped that the production team would be happy with the approach that she had chosen to take.

“I will take her,” the spirit growled. “And you won’t stop me.”

Without warning, Kate lunged forward, and Lydia watched in horror as the woman’s outstretched hands suddenly transformed into claws. Abnormally long fingers reached out to wrap around Lydia’s throat, but before they could touch her, Kate was pulled backwards by the same invisible force that had saved Lydia earlier. And then, Lydia watched in part horror, part fascination, as Kate’s left eyeball turned around and an icy blue iris appeared. The eye set its gaze upon Lydia and the woman’s mouth opened.

Lydia instantly recognised the voice that came out of it, and her eyes widened as her business partner spoke to Kate’s husband, who was still in the middle of his own possession.

“Hey buddy!” Betelgeuse said, his gravelly voice cheery. “It’s time for you to get outta here!”

Kate’s white eye narrowed, and the two-tone voice came out of the same mouth that Betelgeuse’s voice had just emitted from.

“Who the hell are you?” it growled. “And what the hell are you doing in here?”

“Hey,” said Kate, holding up her left hand, her lop-sided grin looking uncannily like Betelgeuse’s. “I totally get your anger. I mean, no husband wants another guy inside his wife, right?”

Lydia heard a snort of laughter behind her and turned around to see Andy sniggering behind his camera. She turned back to Kate, whose white eye was still narrowed. She was about to speak, about to tell Betelgeuse to get out of Kate and that she could handle this herself, but the spirit cut her off.

“I’ll kill you!” Kate’s husband growled, and Lydia watched as the poor woman started to hit the left side of her body with her right hand, pummelling every part of it.

“Stop!” Lydia shouted, horrified at the sight.

“Woah, watch it, pal!” Betelgeuse shouted, using Kate’s left hand to bat away her right arm, which was still trying to hit any area it could reach. “Look, you wanna be reunited with your wife, right? But that ain’t possible.”

“Of course it is!” growled the spirit. “I’ve already driven her insane! It won’t be long before she kills herself, and we’ll be together again.”

“Now that’s just damn selfish!” Betelgeuse replied.

Lydia thought she could detect a slight nervousness in his voice. This was just as much of a dangerous task for him as it was for her. Lydia wondered if he had had a plan all along. She had never heard of a living person being possessed by two ghosts at the same time. She wondered whether Betelgeuse had known about such a thing or whether he had acted out of impulse and possessed Kate in the hope that it would work.

She tried to speak, but the two ghosts cut her off. Her business partner, it became clear, was now dealing with it all. There was nothing that Lydia could do apart from watching the drama unfold in front of her.

“It’s like Lyds said, you want your wife to be happy, don’t ya? Don’t begrudge your loved one having a long life just because you kicked the bucket prematurely! You gotta be happy for her!”

The spirit growled, clearly not happy with Betelgeuse's interference.

“She’s my wife! She belongs to me!”

Lydia watched as Kate’s left arm patted her right shoulder.

“I get that, buddy, I really do. She’s your wife, you love her! But you ain’t gonna win her over by scarin’ the shit outta her and if she does die, well, she won’t be happy with you. She’ll be full of resentment and that won’t be pretty. Do you really wanna go to The Great Beyond with a wife who hates you?”

Lydia watched as the white eye suddenly widened.

“Hate me?” Kate’s husband asked, the worry in the ghost’s two-tone voice making it sound somewhat comical. “I don’t want her to hate me.”

“But that’s what’ll happen if you carry on like this,” Betelgeuse said. “And if you do carry on like this, you won’t be goin’ to The Great Beyond. You’ll be gettin’ tossed into the Fires of Damnation instead. You don’t want that, do ya?”

“I…”

“Of course you don’t! You need to make the most of your afterlife. Move on, be patient! Wait for your lady. When the time is right, she’ll join you!”

“But what if I have to wait years?”

“If you love her, you’ll wait.”

The icy blue eye was fixed on Lydia as Betelgeuse spoke these words. After a few moments of silence, a moaning noise emitted from Kate’s mouth. Very slowly, her right eyeball turned around, the pale blue iris coming back into view.

Her husband’s spirit was leaving her body.

Lydia watched as his ghostly form appeared in the corner of the room. His anger had dissipated, replaced with sadness. Lydia could feel the emotion from the other side of the room. There was a hint of defeat in his expression but also acceptance. He reached out and grasped a book off the bedside table.

It was the Handbook for the Recently Deceased.

Lydia watched, fascinated, as the man turned to face Kate. Kate’s left eye had now returned to its normal pale blue; Betelgeuse had left her body, the green wisp of smoke that was currently floating in the air the only evidence that he had been there. The ghost of Kate’s husband walked towards the small woman, who was currently clutching her head and looking around, confused.

“What just happened?” she asked, frowning at Lydia. Lydia glanced around at Andy, who was still filming. He looked just as fascinated as she felt, his eyes wide in anticipation as he waited for the spirit’s next move.

Lydia took Kate’s hand and spoke, her voice gentle and reassuring.

“Your husband is here, Kate. He was angry that you couldn’t join him in death, but I think he understands now. He’s ready to cross over to the afterlife, but I think he wants to say goodbye to you.”

Lydia wanted to ask Kate if there was anything she would like to say, but hesitated. The moment seemed far too private to capture on camera. Lydia held out a hand to Andy, signalling for him to stop filming. If Kate wanted to discuss her experience, then she could do so in the studio in a few days when they played the footage back to the studio audience and the viewers at home. Right now, Lydia wanted them both to have the privacy they deserved. Kate wouldn’t be able to see her husband, of course, but the room was already feeling lighter, the dark, depressing atmosphere gone, a clear sign that despite his sadness, he was ready to move on. Lydia watched as he held a hand out and gently brushed his fingers against his wife's cheek and listened as he made a promise to wait for her.

At that moment, Lydia was glad that Andy was unable to see the ghost. If he had been able to, she did not doubt that he would have kept his filming equipment switched on to capture the ghost’s promise to his wife.

Lydia usually gave a parting speech, but today, she decided that she would do this to the camera outside instead, away from the dead husband and his now weeping wife, who was looking relieved and happy at finally being free.

***

There was no sign of Betelgeuse after Lydia exited the house. Instead, he had given her a quick thumbs up and a wide grin in the living room of Kate’s house while Kate and Andy were out of earshot. She wanted to speak to him, had an overwhelming need to discuss the assignment they had just completed, but he had disappeared quickly, leaving nothing but his usual thin wisp of smoke behind. The gesture had been his only form of communication with her throughout the entire assignment.

Lydia listened, feeling irritated as Andy recounted the events that had taken place inside the house to Forrester and the rest of the production team. She could tell from their excited voices that the team couldn’t wait to get back to the studio and look at the footage.

“This sounds juicy," Jeff said, and Lydia watched as he rubbed his hands together.

She rolled her eyes at the word “juicy,” her thoughts returning to her business partner and how, once again, he had taken the reins from her. She was grateful that Betelgeuse had saved her, but his possession of Kate had prevented Lydia from resolving the situation.

Kate’s husband was finally able to move on, and Kate was finally free. It had gone surprisingly well, but as far as Lydia was concerned, she hadn’t been the one to solve the problem.

Betelgeuse had done that.

She would wait until she arrived back home and then she would call him again.

They had a lot to discuss.

Chapter Text

Betelgeuse always felt good about himself after using his powers. For him, Lydia’s first dangerous assignment had been a huge success. In his six hundred years in the afterlife, he had never attempted to take part in a double possession. Until today.

Betelgeuse had known, before he had entered Kate’s body, that he had been taking a huge risk. But he had managed to successfully persuade Kate’s husband to cross over.

And most importantly, he had kept Lydia safe.

He laughed to himself and rubbed his hands together excitedly. He was feeling great. This deal was working out just perfectly so far. He could stretch his own abilities while also keeping the woman he loved safe.

Now, all he needed to do was figure out how the hell to get hold of one of those mobile phones. He had already thought of all the responses he was going to type out to the fuckers who had insulted Lydia on that forum.

Whistling, he started walking towards the waiting room to make an appointment with Wolf. With some persuasion, hopefully the head of the Afterlife Crime Unit would give him a phone, and then the fun could really start…

He had almost reached the waiting room when he felt himself being summoned by Lydia.

And, as he always did whenever he heard her calling his name, he immediately abandoned his task and responded.

***

As she waited for Betelgeuse to materialise, Lydia breathed in deeply, trying to remain calm. The journey back to the Winter River house had done nothing to curb her frustration. If anything, having time to dwell on the events of her first dangerous assignment and how Betelgeuse had not allowed her to take charge had made her even angrier.

As the ghost appeared in front of her, Lydia felt a stab of irritation. She was grateful that he had saved her. She really was. But she wasn’t grateful at having her chances of widening her abilities ripped away from her. And what made the whole thing even more irritating, if that were possible, was that Betelgeuse’s lop-sided grin, the one that he always gave her whenever he had helped her, lacked smugness.

He genuinely thought that he had done her a favour. He was standing there now, his expression soft, clearly waiting for her to acknowledge his earlier work. It annoyed the hell out of her.

Despite his faults, Betelgeuse had always taken pride in his work. He always seemed so goddamn happy whenever he helped anyone, no matter what his selfish intentions were. Lydia couldn’t help but feel impressed at what he had done. She hadn’t even known that it was possible for a ghost to possess a living person who was already mid-possession. Yet Betelgeuse had done it effortlessly. He made everything look so easy.

How would she, a living person with just the mere ability to see ghosts and communicate with them, ever be able to compete with that? How could she ever be successful in her assignments when her business partner is a ghost with such amazing powers?

As always, it was Betelgeuse who broke the silence.

“Well, that was a real success, babe.”

“Yeah, it was,” Lydia replied. “For you.”

Betelgeuse’s face fell, and Lydia sighed.

“Had you already planned what you were going to do before you went in there?” she asked.

Betelgeuse’s grin returned, giving Lydia her answer. She shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to push down the bubble of anger that had come to the surface upon the ghost’s silent confirmation.

“This is supposed to be a business partnership,” Lydia said, glaring at him. “Why didn’t you tell me what you had planned?”

Betelgeuse shrugged, and the nonchalant action angered Lydia even more.

“Didn’t think there was any need to. I mean, you knew I’d save you, right? I’ll always save you.”

His soft expression did nothing to curb Lydia’s anger. If anything, it irritated the hell out of her.

“So, this is how it’s going to be, is it?” she asked, folding her arms. “I enter a building with a dangerous spirit, and you show up like a knight in shining armour? Like I’m some helpless damsel in distress?”

Betelgeuse nodded, still grinning, and Lydia laughed in disbelief.

“Well, you were in distress!” the ghost said, holding his arms out. “You were about to get throttled, so I took action.”

“But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Look, I’m grateful that you saved me, I really am. But you didn’t even give me a chance to handle it myself!”

“Babe –”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed, and Betelgeuse sighed.

“There ain’t no way you could have handled that yourself,” he said. “The whole thing was a big risk, even for me.”

“But I didn’t know you were going to be taking a risk, did I? Because you didn’t even bother to tell me what you had planned! You barely even spoke to me!”

“What matters is that you were safe. I kept the spirit distracted and persuaded him to get the hell outta his wife and leave her alone. And he did.”

There was no trace of arrogance in Betelgeuse’s words. Instead, his voice had a matter-of-fact tone that angered Lydia even more.

“I’m your business partner!” she said, raising her voice. “We’re supposed to be working together!”

“We are! You go in there, talk to the spirit for a little while and then I take over. That way, you’re safe!”

Lydia let out a growl of frustration, causing Betelgeuse to step back, his blue eyes widening at the sudden outburst.

“Stop talking about me being safe! Look, I know that some of these ghosts are dangerous! I’ve researched it all. And before you tell me that it’s one thing researching them and dealing with it in reality, I already know that! I just want to learn to do this! I want to do this without you stopping me!”

“I wasn’t –”

“Next time,” said Lydia, stepping closer to Betelgeuse and jabbing a finger at his chest, “I want you to let me handle it. Let me take the reins. If I’m in distress, I’ll give you a signal. You can use your powers, I don’t have a problem with that. But let me at least try to handle it myself before you intervene. Just…just give me a chance to show that I’m capable of dealing with this…please?”

Betelgeuse pouted in response. Actually pouted. If she hadn’t been so angry, Lydia would have found the expression strangely adorable. But the anger, frustration and feelings of failure were clouding any other thoughts that were buried inside her brain.

“Fine,” the ghost said, folding his arms and looking very much like an overgrown toddler.

A ping from Lydia’s phone interrupted them, and Lydia quickly checked the device.

“Is it those fuckers on the forum?” Betelgeuse said, leaning over and trying to catch a glimpse of the screen.

“No, it’s the production team. They…they’re really impressed with the footage and want to do the studio recording as soon as possible.”

Lydia sighed and placed her phone back in her pocket.

Of course they would be impressed. Why wouldn’t they be? Everything that Betelgeuse did was impressive.

Not only had Andy the cameraman captured footage of an actual possession, but he had also managed to film the exact moment that Betelgeuse had entered Kate's body and joined the possession.

The audience was going to love it.

***

As Lydia sat opposite Kate in the studio, she could see evidence that the woman was coping so much better now that her husband had crossed over. Her cheeks were rosy, and her light-blonde hair was styled perfectly, courtesy of the studio’s makeup team. The huge bags under her eyes had disappeared. Her newfound happiness radiated off her, and the pale-blue eyes which had looked so dead the other day were now shining, full of life.

The gasps from the audience were clear evidence that they appreciated this new riskier direction that Ghost House had taken. Lydia glanced over at them as the footage of her inside Kate’s home played on the screen. Their mouths hung open in fascination as they watched Kate hitting herself over and over as the two ghosts battled it out inside her body. Lydia spotted a wisp of green smoke at the back of the room, a sign that Betelgeuse was there. Not that she needed such a sign. She was able to feel his presence without the smoke.

After the footage had been played, Lydia listened as Kate told the studio audience and the viewers at home that she had decided to sell her home and move on, wanting a fresh start. She explained that although she couldn’t see her husband, she had spoken to him and given him her permission to remain in the house, hoping that he would understand her decision to move on.

“These past few months have been hard,” she said. “But I’ve forgiven him. He died in an accident and must have felt bitter that I had been left behind. We were inseparable in life. But thanks to you and your team, he’s now able to move on. I don’t know how you managed to persuade him, but thank you.”

Kate grasped Lydia’s hand, and Lydia smiled weakly.

“I just hope he doesn’t decide to haunt any other living people who move in there.”

Lydia’s head snapped up towards the audience. Betelgeuse had now fully appeared behind the back row and was grinning at her. He gave her a thumbs up.

And she instantly understood why he was looking so pleased.

Kate had moved out, leaving the house to the dead husband who had possessed her. There was no way he was going to want any other living person in what used to be his marital home. He was going to need extra help to keep anyone out. The help of a certain bio-exorcist.

Betelgeuse had just gained himself a client.

The whole thing had worked out so well. And yet Lydia felt empty.

It felt like she had just received a top grade on a school project that she hadn’t completed herself. It felt like the praise that Kate was aiming at her should be aimed at Betelgeuse instead.

She continued to grasp Kate’s hand, trying hard to focus on the woman’s happiness rather than the overwhelming feeling of failure that was threatening to crush her.

***

Over the next few days, it became clear that Ghost House’s risky investigation had not only impressed the studio audience but also the viewers at home. Ever since that meeting, when Robert had informed Lydia of the negative comments that people had been writing about her online, she had not been able to resist looking at the forum. It was harmful, she knew that. But she couldn’t help it. It was a compulsion. The viewers had mostly loved the latest episode, and there were many discussions about it, far more than there had been for previous episodes. Lydia scrolled through the recent influx of comments.

How was she being possessed by two ghosts at the same time? Amazing!

Whatever the producers did, this was awesome! Best episode of Ghost House in a long time!

Loved the second ghost that was possessing that woman! Can someone get him to be a regular on the show? Lol.

But there, nestled amongst the praise for the show and her business partner, were the comments that Lydia hadn’t wanted to see, despite her going in search of them.

Awesome episode. Love the changes. Shame they can’t change the presenter’s hair, though.

Lydia sighed and scrolled back up, her eyes falling on the other nasty comment about her hair that Robert had alerted her attention to the other day.

Her fringe looks like it was cut by a five-year-old.

The comment had received a lot of laughing emojis and lots of likes. Lydia had got into the awful habit of refreshing the page to see whether anyone had responded or reacted with emojis to the nasty comments. She refreshed, scrolled back down, and noticed that a new reply had now appeared underneath the unpleasant words about her hairstyle.

Your makeup looks like it was applied by a five-year-old.

Lydia blinked. Whoever had written the response must have posted it just seconds ago. She squinted and looked at the name of the poster.

RedSupergiant

Lydia frowned at the name. She had never seen any posts from this person before.

A host of new replies had popped up, all underneath the nasty comments posted about Lydia and all written by the same poster.

She needs a new make-up routine! She would look SO much better with some contouring! Check out my tutorials on my TikTok!

What the hell is contouring and what the fuck is a TikTok?

Lydia sniggered and scrolled down further.

Ghost House would be so much better without the weird presenter.

Ghost House would be so much better without stupid fuckers like you in the fandom.

Her mouth curved up into a small smirk, but then she instantly felt bad. She was fifty-two. She shouldn’t be smiling at childish responses to nasty, childish remarks. But she couldn’t deny that the comments had lifted her spirits.

It was nice to have a fan.

***

The producers were, as expected, ecstatic at the response to the latest episode.

“They loved it!” Jeff’s excited voice said down the phone. Lydia hummed in response. The anger and bitterness in the aftermath of that first dangerous assignment had subsided a little, but there was still a stab of something.

 “It’s got people talking on the forums, and that’s what we want! We want to create drama and excitement! I’ve got your next assignment here.”

Lydia heard a shuffling of papers and some muffled voices. Then, Robert Forrester’s voice sounded in her ear.

“Lydia, this one is going to be a challenge.”

His voice lacked any concern as he spoke the words. Instead, he sounded excited, and Lydia wondered, at that moment, whether the producers even cared about her safety at all. To them, it was all about the ratings, and she knew that this latest boost would leave them hungry for more. It was clearly all that they cared about.

“This one sounds absolutely crazy. Flying pots and pans, objects being tossed around, you name it, this spirit’s done it.”

Lydia rolled her eyes.

“I thought you and Jeff said the audience was getting bored of seeing pots and pans floating around?”

“Oh, this is much more than that! From what the family who have applied to come on the show have told us, it looks like they’re dealing with a poltergeist. The thing sounds batshit insane.”

Lydia scoffed. Of course, the producers found the idea of a ghost that had completely lost its mind entertaining. She wanted to refuse it. She hated the idea of this ghost having its poor mental state televised, but she knew that if she pulled out of this one, her job would be at risk.

“I’ll send you the details. We’ll be shooting it in the next few days.”

Before Lydia could respond, Robert hung up. She sighed and opened her emails. When the information on the next assignment finally came through, Lydia opened the attachment, her eyes raking over the details.

The application was from a family of four this time. In it, they had described everything that their ghostly houseguest had been doing, and Robert hadn’t been wrong.

The spirit did, indeed, sound insane.

According to the family, the poltergeist loved playing pranks, such as moving their stuff and making strange noises. In one paragraph, they had described how the family had even had a food fight with it and that the father had ended up covered in “some weird kind of gunk, a bit like ectoplasm.”

Lydia closed her eyes and groaned, her thoughts immediately going to her mischievous, irritating six-hundred-year-old business partner. She tried to push visions of him fighting this poltergeist out of her head. Other images and sounds started to form in her brain. Betelgeuse in his carnival attire with giant hammers for arms. His shrieking laughter after he had thrown his arms around Otho and kissed him. His wide, shit-eating grin when he had drawn the bomb that had blown up the wall to his office, allowing Lydia illegal access to the afterlife. His booming laugh when she had woken up from that awful dream of Astrid giving birth to the baby version of him.

This assignment was going to be tougher than the last, that was for sure. One crazy poltergeist meeting another. Lydia closed her eyes, making a mental note to stock up on headache tablets.

She typed in the word “poltergeist” on her phone and spent the next couple of hours researching everything about them, determined to learn about what she would be dealing with. When she had finished, she took a deep breath before gently touching the small mirror and uttering the name of her business partner three times.

This time, they were going to make a plan.

And this time, no matter how crazy the spirit that they were about to encounter was, Lydia was determined not to let Betelgeuse take control.

Chapter Text

Parenthood brings many changes, and Lydia was currently experiencing one of those changes. She had seen the movie Poltergeist many times, had memorised most of the dialogue. Yet today, as she sat there watching it with Betelgeuse as part of what he had called their “training session”, she found herself more disturbed by the storyline than she had ever been.

This had little to do with the fact that she would soon be coming face-to-face with a poltergeist and everything to do with the fact that the story, which involved a young girl being taken away from her family by malevolent spirits, made her realise just how close she had come to losing Astrid on Halloween. Lydia’s thoughts kept drifting to Jeremy Frazier and how the evil ghost had tricked her daughter.  

She just couldn’t find any enjoyment in the movie anymore. And as her business partner shook with laughter beside her, Lydia found herself becoming irritated. For her, there was nothing funny about the storyline, just like there hadn’t been with The Exorcist.

“I’ve seen enough,” she said, picking up the remote and switching the television off. Betelgeuse let out a noise of protest.

“Aww come on, I was enjoyin’ that!”

“There’s nothing enjoyable about watching evil ghosts trying to take a young child away from her family.”

“It’s just fiction, babe.”

Lydia glared at him. Betelgeuse sighed and pushed himself up off the sofa.

“Is this about the assignment? Is that why you’re pissed at me? Look, I already told ya, I’ll wait for a signal this time. I promise I won’t intervene unless you tell me to. Ok?”

“This isn’t about that,” Lydia said. “I just…I came so close to losing Astrid. I can’t even watch the horror movies I used to enjoy anymore. I used to…I used to love watching this before I had kids. And now…look, we need to discuss our plan for this assignment. This spirit, it sounds far less malevolent than the one in this movie.”

“It’s batshit crazy,” said Betelgeuse. “And sometimes, the ones that have lost their sanity can be worse. It ain’t gonna be pretty. Look, Lydia, I…”

Lydia closed her eyes and sighed, knowing what he was about to say.

“You won’t be able to deal with this…”

She shook her head and let out a hollow laugh.

“You still don’t believe in me.”

It was a statement rather than a question, and Betelgeuse stared at her for a few moments before responding.

“I don’t even believe that I can deal with it.”

“Yeah, you said that last time,” said Lydia, folding her arms. “And then you came in and took over Kate’s body so easily while another ghost was possessing her.”

“It was a big risk.”

“But you took it. And I didn’t stop you. So you shouldn’t stop me.”

“But you’re not –”

“Not what? Not dead? Not powerful enough? I already know that. But these assignments are giving me the chance to speak to different types of spirits. Spirits that I’ve never encountered before. I want to do this without being interrupted this time.”

Betelgeuse sighed and held his hands up in defeat.

“Alright,” he said. “Alright, fine. I’ll let you deal with it. Tell ya what, you try and talk to it for a while, keep it calm, lure it in. And then I’ll capture it.”

Lydia frowned at him.

“Capture it? You can do that?”

“I have to try.”

“So…so you won’t try and persuade it to become your client?”

“Nope.”

Lydia was relieved upon hearing these words. While she was happy that Kate had moved into a different home for a fresh start and that the woman’s dead husband had become Betelgeuse’s client, she wasn’t sure she liked the idea of a family of four being driven out of their home by a poltergeist.

This time, she was determined to help the family keep their home. The spirit sounded far too gone for her to be able to create peace between them. She was glad that Betelgeuse was going to try and remove it.

“Besides, any spirit who is that crazy would be competition,” said Betelgeuse. “There’s only room for one crazy bio-exorcist, and that’s me.”

He pointed at himself, his mouth curving into a lop-sided grin.

“If anyone’s gonna scare the shit outta living people, it’s me. This fucker has got to go.”

“So what will happen to it when you catch it?” Lydia asked, wondering how on earth Betelgeuse was going to achieve this.

“I’ll take it into the afterlife, and the Afterlife Crime Unit will probably deal with it. There ain’t usually much the afterlife can do for crazy spirits, though. We’re probably looking at a permanent destruction.”

Lydia’s eyes widened in horror.

“What?”

“It’ll probably get permanently destroyed.”

“But that…that’s horrible!”

Betelgeuse shrugged.

“That’s just the way it is. Some spirits…there ain’t no helpin’ ‘em. Once they lose their minds like that…there’s no way back. Almost went there myself once…”

He gave a small laugh and glanced at Lydia. Images of the Betelgeuse she had met thirty-six years ago formed in her head. He had been a very different Betelgeuse back then, full of constant energy, always moving around. Lydia couldn’t deny that he had mellowed out a lot over the years. He was still Betelgeuse, of course, but a little less…chaotic. Lydia found herself wondering what he had been like in the early years of his afterlife. Six hundred years was a long time.

He had just revealed a piece of information about himself, almost opened up to Lydia, and she couldn’t help but want to know more. How close, she wondered, had he come to ending up like the crazy poltergeist that they were about to encounter? And what had caused it?

How had he even died?

She realised, then, that she knew very little about him. And she couldn’t help but want to learn more. But as quickly as the mask of the mischievous “trickster demon” had slipped, it was pulled back up again, and as Betelgeuse quickly cleared his throat and forced his expression back into one of nonchalance, Lydia knew that any questions she wanted to ask about his long history in the afterlife wouldn’t be answered.

“We clear on this then? You go in there, talk to it for a bit and then I’ll try and capture it. Sound good?”

Lydia nodded.

“That’s…that’s fine.”

“Good. I’ll meet you in there.”

And before she could respond, he disappeared, leaving behind his usual wisp of smoke.

***

Lydia watched as the family of four huddled together outside their home. Alice, the mother, had her arms around her children, Oliver and Jack, who both looked no older than ten. The father, Noah, had his arm around his wife and was glaring at Robert Forrester, who was pointing at the family's house and shaking his head.

Wondering what the problem was, Lydia walked over.

“…just think it would be for the best,” Robert was saying. “They like to harass people, don’t they? Or something like that.”

“Our family has been through enough. I’m not letting my kids go back in there until whatever the hell that thing is has been investigated.”

“Can I help?” Lydia asked, standing next to Robert. She had already been introduced to the family earlier that day and had taken an immediate liking to them. She smiled down at Oliver, the youngest of the two boys, who was holding his toy train out for her to look at.

Her thoughts instantly went to Barbara Maitland, and her heart ached for the young ghost woman who had treated Lydia like a daughter. Barbara and Adam had struggled to have a child of their own, and the young family was everything that Adam and Barbara could have been if they had not died prematurely and had been able to achieve their goal of having a family.

“He thinks that it won’t show itself if our kids aren’t in there,” Noah said, nodding at Robert. “He wants me to send them back in during your investigation.”

Lydia looked at Robert, horrified. This was a new low, even for him.

“You can’t be serious?” she said. Robert shook his head and began waving his hands around animatedly.

“Well, how else are we supposed to get the thing to come out? According to the application form they sent in, the thing seems to love playing pranks when their kids are around. It’s drawn to them. They’ve signed a form. They know the risks!”

Noah stepped forward and jabbed a finger into Robert’s chest.

“Listen, pal, my kids have been through enough. Form or no form, they are not going back in there until you’ve investigated whatever the hell it is that is terrorising my family!”

Robert tried to argue, but Lydia stepped forward and gently pushed Noah’s arm away from the producer.

“Noah’s right, Robert. The children shouldn’t be in there for this.”

“Fine,” Robert snapped. “But don’t blame me if the audience complains. We start filming in five.”

Before anyone could respond, he walked away. Lydia stared at him in disbelief. What the hell was wrong with him? Lydia knew that the production team wanted to boost the ratings, but this was too far, even for them. Forrester had just basically proven that he had very little interest in the wellbeing of this family’s children. Lydia wouldn’t have blamed them if they walked away right now.

But they didn’t walk away. Instead, Alice and Noah looked at her, their eyes pleading. They wanted her to end this for them. They were desperate.

She couldn’t fail.

***

The stench was unbearable, definitely not something that someone would expect in the clean home of Noah and Alice and their two children. Lydia had prepared herself for it, though. The stench of death was a common occurrence in haunted homes, especially in ones with dangerous spirits.

There were toys stashed away in the corner of the living room, just as one would expect from a family with two young children, but every surface looked clean. It was clear that Alice was very houseproud. Lydia wrinkled her nose. So far, the unpleasant smell had been the only sign that the house was haunted. She turned around, beckoning for Andy to continue following her. The cameraman had been a little more hesitant than he usually was during Ghost House’s investigations, no doubt a result of him recently witnessing the double possession of Kate.

They entered the kitchen, and Lydia immediately felt the energy. It wasn’t a negative energy, but more a surge of something. Lydia wasn’t sure what, but there was something there. She cleared her throat and addressed the camera, giving her usual introduction and explaining what she was doing.

Then, she turned around and began to call out to the invisible ghost.

“My name is Lydia and…I just want to talk to you. Can I talk to you?”

There was no response. Instead, a low moaning sound came from the corner of the kitchen. But Lydia still couldn’t see the spirit.

“Would you…could you show yourself?”

Lydia heard a scraping sound. She watched as a plate on the kitchen counter began to move, her eyes widening in fascination. Betelgeuse had been able to make objects move without her being able to see him, and it was now clear that this poltergeist was able to do the same. Lydia found herself desperately wanting to see it, wanting to see the form of the ghost with powers like her business partner’s. The plate continued to move, sliding from one side of the counter to the other before hovering above the surface. Lydia watched, rooted to the spot, unable to take her eyes off the object. She had seen this many times before, and she now knew that such happenings had been Betelgeuse’s work. But this time, this was a poltergeist that she had never encountered before.

The plate didn’t move, instead continuing to hover, and Lydia wondered if perhaps it was Betelgeuse doing the work. But then the plate moved and began flying in her direction. Before it could reach her, though, she felt herself being pulled back by an invisible force. Lydia let out a scream of shock as her invisible business partner moved her out of the way of the plate, which quickly flew past the spot where she had just stood and hit the wall opposite, where it smashed into pieces. And then, several other plates started to rise off the counter, along with some mugs, a few kitchen utensils, and finally, some very sharp knives.

“We need to get out of this room,” Lydia gasped, glancing at Andy in horror. “We need to get out of here now!”

She ran past Andy and out of the kitchen, and the cameraman quickly followed her, letting out a cry as a knife missed his head by just a few inches.

“We’ll investigate upstairs,” Lydia said.

Andy threw her a look of disbelief.

“The thing has just tried to kill us!” he said. He was still filming, but that didn’t matter. Any words that he uttered were always edited out. Determined, Lydia started to climb the stairs but felt herself being pulled back.

“Leave it, it’s too dangerous,” Betelgeuse’s voice hissed in her ear. His voice sounded small, as though it were coming out of a tiny version of him. Lydia frowned and felt something crawling on her face. She reached up and pulled a black-and-white striped bug off her cheek. She examined it and sighed as she looked into its tiny blue eyes, which were narrowed.

“I told you,” she said through gritted teeth, “To let me deal with this!”

“That thing just nearly killed you!” the beetle said in its tiny voice. “Lyds…”

“Get out of here and wait for the signal,” Lydia hissed, before flicking the bug away. There was a tiny noise of protest as the Betelgeuse-bug flew away.

“Did you say something?” Andy called from behind her.

Lydia quickly shook her head before continuing to climb the staircase. The odour was getting worse, and she wrinkled her nose again. Suddenly, she felt something rush past her on the stairs and glanced down at Andy, who was clinging on to the banister with one hand while desperately trying to keep hold of his filming equipment.

“Did you feel that?” he asked, glancing up at Lydia, his eyes wide.

Lydia nodded and beckoned him to follow her.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Lydia noticed a faint, green glow at the end of the landing. She briefly wondered if perhaps it was Betelgeuse giving her some kind of signal, but as the green glow began to rush towards her, she knew that it wasn’t.

There was nowhere to run. Andy’s heavy filming equipment would make it hard for him to rush back down the stairs, and he was currently blocking the way back down. Lydia let out a cry as the green glow reached her, and before she had time to do anything, she heard a sickening splash. The green glow had, at some point during its journey towards her, transformed into some type of bright green goo, and Lydia was now completely covered in it. She stood there in shock, feeling the thick liquid dripping down her face. She turned to face the camera and glanced at Andy, who was staring at her, wide-eyed.

He was about to speak when a booming laugh cut him off. Betelgeuse’s laugh. Lydia scowled. Betelgeuse was supposed to be waiting for her to signal for him to save her, had just given her a warning, and now the fucker was laughing at her because the poltergeist that she was trying to communicate with had just covered her in green goo.

She was going to kill him.

She was going to give her goddamn business partner a second permanent death when this assignment was over.

She scowled and tried to pull the foul-smelling goo off herself. It had the consistency of melted cheese and was making Lydia feel nauseous. Finally, after a few seconds, the goo melted away from her and scurried into one of the bedrooms. Determined not to let it deter her, Lydia followed it.

First, the thing had tried to kill her, and now it was being playful.

A light flickered above her.

This spirit was insane. That was for sure.

And Lydia, being the sympathetic soul that she was, couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. She hated the fact that this poor ghost, which was so far gone that it was beyond help, was having all its actions televised.

She crept into the bedroom where the green goo had disappeared into and was greeted by dozens of toys. This, Lydia realised, must be Oliver's bedroom. Lydia watched as a couple of trains started to move around a track. Across the room, there was a noise, and Lydia watched as a cuddly toy dog and monkey rose into the air. There was a ripping sound as an invisible force tore the toys open, and Lydia watched as white stuffing flew into the air.

She crept forward, holding up a hand to Andy to signal for him to follow her. She didn’t want to make any sudden or quick movements to anger the unpredictable ghost.  

Lydia took a deep breath and spoke as gently as she could.

“My name is Lydia,” she said, walking slowly towards the now-ruined toys. “I just want to talk to you.”

There was a low rumbling sound, followed by a muttering. And then, a sudden cheery voice made Lydia jump.

“Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo! Boo!”

“Can I…can I help you in any way?” Lydia asked, as the ghost continued to spout nonsense words. And then, very slowly, a pair of bloodshot eyes came into view. Lydia stared, unable to tear her eyes away from the bright green irises. The eyes studied her, and Lydia flinched as the poltergeist suddenly spoke.

“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star…how brave you are to come this far!”

She swallowed, stopped walking and took a deep breath, hoping that the spirit wouldn’t be able to sense her fear.

“I…I just want to get to know you…talk a little? Is that ok?”

There was a humming sound, followed by a childish sounding giggle.

Lydia glanced around and noticed Betelgeuse in his bug form on top of a chest of drawers. Despite her earlier irritation at him laughing at her, she immediately felt safe knowing he was nearby.

The poltergeist began to sing softly to the white stuffing in its hands, its screechy, piercing voice causing Lydia to wince.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey…”

Lydia stood still, unsure of what to do. Then, very slowly, the rest of the ghost came into view. A thin face appeared around the crazed eyes, making them look far too big for the ghost’s face. Wild hair, not unlike Betelgeuse’s, started to come into view. And finally, the ghost’s body, which was extremely thin, appeared. Lydia felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. The ghost was clearly in poor shape. Of course, no ghost would ever look healthy. All ghosts were, after all, dead. But this poor ghost looked as though it had had a very tough afterlife.

It looked as though someone had sucked out the poor thing’s soul, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell. Lydia watched as the spirit continued to pull the stuffing out of the toys, and then, slowly, it turned to face her again.

“Where are the kids?” the poltergeist asked. “It’s playtime! They left me!”

“They…”

Lydia stepped forward slowly, reaching a hand out to the ghost, hoping that the gesture would placate it.

“They had to leave for a moment,” she explained gently. “I…don’t think they were very happy with some of the things that you were doing.”

“We were playing!” the ghost said, flecks of green spit flying out if its mouth as it spoke. “We were having fun. You ruined it!”

Lydia shook her head.

“I…I’m here to help you. It’s…it’s time for you to move on.”

The spirit let out a shriek of laughter.

“Move on…move on? Why would I move on when I’m having so much fun here? Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, now you’ve gone way too far!”

Lydia ducked as an action figure flew past her. She glanced at the spirit, who blew a raspberry and then disappeared again, leaving only its bright green eyes behind.

“Want to play a game?” it asked. “How about I Spy?”

Lydia quickly glanced over at Betelgeuse, who was still positioned on the chest of drawers.

“Ok then”, she said, trying to keep her voice calm, and the spirit spoke again.

“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with…S.”

Lydia glanced around the room, trying to spot items beginning with the letter S. She noticed a satchel lying on the back of a chair.

“Satchel?”

“Nope.”

“Spider-Man?” Lydia suggested as her eyes fell upon a figure of the superhero lying on the floor amongst a pile of other action figures.

“Nope.”

As she glanced around the room, Lydia wondered how long the poltergeist would want her to play its games and how on earth she was going to persuade it to leave the home of the family whom it had been terrorising for months.

She saw a plastic toy sword sitting on top of Oliver's desk.

“Sword?”

“Correct! And now for the fun part of the game…”

Lydia watched as the sword started to hover above the desk before rising into the air, and as she realised what was about to happen, she rushed forward.

“Please, let’s just talk! I can help you to move on! I…I know a guy. He can help you!”

“It’s playtime!” the poltergeist shrieked. The sword started flying towards Lydia, and she closed her eyes and grimaced, waiting for the impact.

But it never came.

She opened her eyes and saw Betelgeuse standing there, holding the sword.

Only it didn’t look like Betelgeuse.

But it must have been, because Lydia had no idea who else it could have been.

The ghost who was holding the sword looked like a much bigger version of the thin poltergeist who had just tried to attack her. And when it spoke, Betelgeuse’s gravelly voice came out of it.

“It’s showtime!” he said, tossing the sword away and holding a hand out to the poltergeist, who was staring at him with wide, crazed eyes. “Nice to meet ya, buddy!”

Lydia watched as Betelgeuse’s black and white suit disappeared, the signature outfit slowly melting into the same outfit that the poltergeist was wearing – a bright yellow shirt and trousers that were much too short. While the poltergeist’s outfit hung off its thin body though, Betelgeuse’s outfit looked comically tight, the ghost’s belly poking out of the gaps between the shirt's buttons.

“Look at this, we shop at the same store! We’re total pals!”

The poltergeist was dumbstruck, and Lydia almost had to bite back a snigger. Only Betelgeuse could make another poltergeist speechless. She watched in fascination as her business partner pulled the ghost into a huge hug. The ghost remained in Betelgeuse’s strong embrace for a few seconds before trying to push him away, its bright green eyes now flashing angrily.

“Get off me, you weirdo!”

“Aww, don’t be like that, pal! We’re like two peas in a pod! Hey, listen, I know a good place where we can hang out! I’ll take you there!”

“Get lost! This is my house. I haunted it first!” the poltergeist said, stomping its foot.

“Look, buddy, as much as I love scarin’ the shit outta people, we gotta let this family go. Why don’t I take you back with me and we can find another place to haunt? I’ll help ya. Of course, I might have to sew your mouth shut so that I can do all the scarin’…”

Lydia rolled her eyes as she watched Betelgeuse sling an arm around the ghost's shoulder. Earlier, he had been worried about the poltergeist creating too much competition for his bio-exorcist business, but here he was, still trying to gain a client. The poltergeist wasn’t having any of it, though. Betelgeuse had been right – it was too far gone. It wasn’t going to be easy to persuade it to leave the family alone. She glanced around at Andy, who was watching the scene in fascination. She wasn’t sure if he could see the poltergeist, but she knew that Betelgeuse would be visible.

She watched as her business partner tried to work his charm, but the poltergeist pushed him away and suddenly disappeared before appearing on the other side of the room.

“Teleportation, eh? I can do that too!”

Lydia watched as Betelgeuse disappeared and reappeared in the spot next to the ghost. The poltergeist disappeared again and then, for a few moments, the two ghosts continued to copy each other, disappearing then materialising in different parts of the room. Suddenly, Lydia felt something rush past her and watched as the door flung back before slamming shut. Betelgeuse followed it, and Lydia listened as creaking and “woooo” noises sounded from outside the door.

She rushed past Andy and ran out onto the landing, listening for the noises, which were now coming from downstairs. Lydia ran down, gesturing for Andy to follow her and was greeted by one of the most chaotic sights she had ever seen. In the short time it had taken her to leave the bedroom and move downstairs, the poltergeist had emptied all the kitchen cupboards and was now hurling bags of flour and eggs at Betelgeuse, who was dancing around the room and laughing.

Lydia watched as her business partner caught an egg and flung it back in the direction of the poltergeist. The spirit’s bright green eyes widened as the egg hit its face, its expression quickly transforming into one of anger as yolk dripped off the end of its long nose.

“Egg on your face!” Betelgeuse bellowed, and Lydia let out a groan.

“Knock it off!” she hissed.

Betelgeuse continued to laugh, ducking as a huge bag of flour was hurled at him. Then, the poltergeist picked up a batch of gingerbread men that had been laid out neatly on the side, took a sniff of the freshly baked treats and then placed the tray back down. He picked one up and started munching it.

“You’ll never get me to leave,” the ghost said, its voice thick as it spoke through a mouthful of gingerbread.

“I’m gonna have fun tryin’!” Betelgeuse said, rubbing his hands together. Without warning though, the poltergeist rushed forward, catching Betelgeuse off guard. It slammed into him and Lydia watched as her business partner was flung into the air, where he hovered for a few seconds before crashing down. She rushed over to him but felt herself being pushed back as he used his powers to move her out of the way.

Wincing, Betelgeuse pushed himself off the floor as the poltergeist whooshed out of the room, its screechy, sing-song voice echoing throughout the house. A trail of gingerbread men lay on the floor, and Lydia lifted her boot to avoid stepping on them as she moved out of the kitchen.

“Run run as fast as you can, you’ll never catch me! I’m the gingerbread man! Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo!”

“Fuck’s sake,” growled Betelgeuse, as he rushed past Lydia. “This fucker’s totally lost it. Stay back.”

Lydia felt a stab of frustration at once again not being able to take charge, but she knew that this time, she had no choice but to let her business partner take the reins again. She watched as Betelgeuse’s hands transformed into giant jars, looking very much like the giant hammers that had sent Maxie and Sarah Dean crashing through the roof all those years ago.

“I’m goin’ to catch this fucker.”

Lydia tried to keep up with the two ghosts, but it was a difficult task. Objects flew past her and Andy as they tried to follow them. Finally, after what felt like hours of rushing around, Lydia spotted the spirit curled up in a corner of Oliver's bedroom. She watched as the poor ghost munched on one of the gingerbread men, its bright green eyes glazed. Not wanting the ghost to suddenly bolt, Lydia quickly tried to think of a way to keep it in the corner of the room.

She spotted a toy train on the floor and walked over to the spirit. She bent down and gently handed it to him, hoping that the toy would somehow keep him there. The spirit looked at her, and Lydia thought, for one moment, that she saw something within the ghost’s eyes. A flicker of what the ghost had once been before the madness had taken over.

The poltergeist gently took the train from Lydia and examined it, its green eyes wide. Then, it looked back up at her.

“When are the children coming back? Where are my friends?”

“I…”

Lydia’s voice trailed off as she was hit by the sadness of the situation. Without thinking, she reached her hand out to the ghost. The spirit frowned at the gesture, before looking back up at her.

“Are you here to play with me?” it asked.

Lydia nodded. The ghost gently brushed her hand with its fingers and Lydia watched as its mouth curved up into a smile.

A real genuine smile.

And Lydia felt bad for what she was about to do.

“Why don’t you show me that green glow trick again? I really liked it!”

“You did?”

Lydia nodded, and the poltergeist looked pleased. She waited for a few seconds and watched as the spirit transformed itself into the mysterious green glow that Lydia had seen earlier, moments before she had been covered in goo. Lydia looked around, desperately hoping that Betelgeuse had seen what she had done so that he could seize the opportunity to carry out his task.

He had, of course, seen everything. And as the green glow surrounded Lydia, her business partner rushed forward and captured the spirit in one of his jars. The glow immediately transformed into goo within the jar and started struggling. It was trying desperately to turn back into its proper form but was unable to due to its confinements.

Lydia looked away, suddenly feeling sick.

“Looks like the poor fella was startin’ to finally show some feeling. At least I managed to capture the moment,” said Betelgeuse, lifting the jar and inspecting the struggling goo. “He’s one hell of a…”

Betelgeuse’s voice trailed off as he caught sight of Lydia’s expression. He cleared his throat. Lydia glanced around and gestured for Andy to stop filming and step outside.

“I’ll join you later,” she said. “I just need a moment.”

Andy, who looked a little dazed by the events of the investigation, nodded and left the room.

“This is no time for jokes,” Lydia hissed. “It’s struggling.”

She nodded at the jar.

“Yep, time to take this guy to the afterlife.”

“Isn’t there any way you can save it? Save him?”

Lydia didn’t want to think of the poltergeist as an “it” anymore. He had once been a living person. A living person who had died prematurely and lost his way. As far as she was concerned, ghosts were people too. She had caught a glimpse of something in the ghost’s eyes when she had offered him the train. Lydia desperately wanted to know his story, but the look on Betelgeuse’s face told her that she would never get the chance to learn about it.

This ghost had been forgotten about. Had been left to go crazy. And now it was going to be destroyed without ever having the chance to have a good afterlife. The whole thing seemed so unfair.

“Nothin’ anyone can do,” Betelgeuse confirmed. His clothes had transformed back into his usual black and white suit, and he opened his jacket and placed the jar inside. He winced as he did so, and Lydia immediately reached her hand out.

“You’re hurt…”

She hadn’t known it was possible for ghosts to feel pain, but Betelgeuse was clearly feeling the results of being thrown backwards and crashing into the floor.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’ll always be fine. Well, better get back.”

He straightened up, ready to leave. But before he did, he spoke again.

“You did well, Lydia. If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have been able to catch it. We make a great team, eh?”

Lydia smiled weakly and nodded. Betelgeuse disappeared, leaving Lydia standing there, staring at the train that she had gently handed to the poltergeist just moments ago.

Despite Betelgeuse’s words, Lydia didn’t feel like she had done that much to help. After all, it was, once again, Betelgeuse who had successfully captured the spirit in the end. Any sense of achievement that she was feeling was overshadowed by sadness at the thought of the poor ghost being taken to his second permanent death.

Her earlier anger at Betelgeuse had dissipated, and Lydia found herself, not for the first time, thinking about her business partner’s abilities and how he truly was amazing. There was something about him. Something mysterious, something other-worldly. She had been frustrated at him constantly trying to save her, angry at him for interfering with Ghost House for all those years. But today, for the first time, she had felt comforted by his presence. By his abilities.

And he had looked oddly adorable in his little black and white bug form with his tiny, bright blue eyes.

She would never admit that to him, though. It just wasn’t an appropriate thing to say to a business partner.

That’s all it was. That’s all it would ever be. Just business.

Lydia was determined to stick to the rules of their deal.

Chapter Text

“Nice work, Geuse,” said Wolf, holding up the jar containing the poltergeist’s goo and examining it. “Not much we can do for this poor fella. It doesn’t feel right to send him to the Fires of Damnation. But he’s gonna have to be destroyed somehow. How’s the bio-exorcist business going?”

“Goin’ great. Recently got me a new client,” Betelgeuse replied, grinning as he thought of Kate’s husband.

He hadn’t yet told Wolf about his partnership with Lydia. He wasn’t sure whether the head of the Afterlife Crime Unit would be happy with him teaming up with the woman for whom he had violated code 699. So, he had pretended that he had met the poltergeist during one of his bio-exorcist jobs. Part of him felt bad for telling Wolf that he had managed to capture the poltergeist all by himself. He wanted to acknowledge Lydia’s work, wanted everyone to know that he had managed to carry out the task with her help.

But it was too risky.

They had to keep their business partnership a secret. For now.

***

Betelgeuse drummed his fingernails on his desk, a mobile phone clutched tightly in his other hand. After managing to persuade Wolf to give him the device for “business purposes” the other day, he had spent quite a bit of his spare time trying to learn how to use it.

The phone, of course, wasn’t being used for “business purposes” but instead for Betelgeuse to check for nasty comments about Lydia on the Ghost House forum. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out how to use the device – he was a fast learner. But the signal wasn’t great down in the afterlife, something which tested his patience.

“Stupid fuckin’ thing,” he muttered as he held the phone high up in the air and shook it. He pulled it close to his face and turned off the Wi-Fi before reconnecting to the Afterlife Wireless Network.

Defending Lydia on the forum had become part of his daily routine. Creating an account had been easier than he thought. He just hoped that Lydia would never figure out that he was RedSupergiant. What things, he wondered, could he say without the risk of breaking the contract? Saying compliments to Lydia’s face was a definite no, as she had told him, very firmly, that there were to be no inappropriate words or declarations of love. The partnership had to be strictly business.

It had been so hard, so damn hard, not complimenting her after that last assignment. He had wanted, so badly, to tell her how proud of her he was. To tell her that, even though he had laughed at her when she had been covered in the green goo, she had looked so adorable. But he knew that Lydia wouldn't find that appropriate. The need to shower her with compliments was starting to overwhelm him. So, he had started quickly disappearing after each assignment, terrified that he might blurt his feelings out.

He needed a way to express his feelings without Lydia knowing.

He had to find out if he was able to write nice things about her without breaking the rules of the contract. He had, of course, already written a few nice things on the forum, but he wasn't sure how far he could take it. Surely expressing his feelings about her, when she didn’t know that it was him who was expressing such feelings, was acceptable?

He quickly glanced around the room as though he were checking if someone was watching him and typed out some words in a text message to no one.

Lydia is beautiful.

He grimaced and waited for a sign that he had broken his part of the deal. Waited for the contract to burst into flames and be destroyed.

But nothing happened.

He typed out another sentence.

I love Lydia.

Still, nothing happened.

Betelgeuse breathed a sigh of relief. He continued to type out loving words about his business partner, feeling happy to be able to release his feelings, even if it was in the form of a text message to no one.

Lydia’s treatment of the insane poltergeist had truly moved Betelgeuse. He had watched her as he waited for a moment to capture it in one of his jars, had seen her gentle gesture of handing the poor ghost the toy train. He had seen the ghost’s genuine smile. Lydia had, even though it was just for a small moment, managed to give the ghost that had lost its mind some happiness in its final moments.

She truly was remarkable. Her patience, kindness and concern for ghosts was rarely seen in living people. Many people, even the ones who were able to communicate with ghosts like Lydia could, treated them disrespectfully, like they were nothing but forms of entertainment. But not Lydia. She was always so thoughtful, so gentle to them. Betelgeuse’s dead heart had swollen to twice its normal size as he had watched her speaking to the poltergeist.

He loved her so goddamn much. So much that it was becoming painful. When a person is in love, they sometimes like to express that love, not just to the person that they are in love with, but to friends. To family.

But Betelgeuse had neither of those.

Whether it was because of the disloyalty of his shrinker employees or because he was in the midst of a mid-afterlife crisis, Betelgeuse suddenly found himself wishing that he had someone to talk to. Someone who he could talk about Lydia with and tell them how much he loved her.

God, he missed Bob.

For now, the mobile phone was the only way he could express his feelings. The only way he could say nice things about Lydia without breaking their deal. He logged onto the forum, ready to shut down any fuckers who dared to say anything bad about the love of his afterlife.

***

The episode of Ghost House was, as Lydia had predicted, a success. The audience had loved the footage, and the forum was more active than ever, with people posting their questions and theories about the “second mysterious ghost” who had captured the mischievous poltergeist. Betelgeuse was certainly gaining lots of attention.

Lydia scrolled through the latest influx of comments.

Was that the same ghost who was involved in the double possession in the other episode? He’s awesome!

I think it’s secretly a crew member dressing up and pretending to be a ghost. The gravelly voice was the same as the one in the episode with the double possession.

Who was the second ghost? The one who captured the poltergeist in the jar? He can haunt my home anytime. He's hilarious!

Alice and Noah had thanked Lydia personally, telling her that they were grateful for her help and that they were happy to be able to live in their home peacefully. They too, had watched the footage and had asked Lydia to thank whoever the mysterious spirit was that had helped her to get rid of their mischievous ghostly houseguest.

Lydia was happy to see that she had received some praise on the forum, too. After weeks of unpleasant comments, it felt nice to have people acknowledge her work.

The presenter dealt with it really well! Loved how kindly she spoke to the poltergeist!

The bit with the toy train was so sweet! The presenter is so calm and kind!

Her smile widened as she noticed a comment from her new fan, RedSupergiant.

Lydia has always been awesome. She’s kind, patient and incredibly caring. All the people who have been writing nasty comments about her should get the hell off this forum and get a life.

Lydia scrolled down and noticed a reply to RedSupergiant’s comment.

Bet the presenter wrote this comment herself. Middle-aged woman trying to make herself feel better about herself.

A laughing emoji accompanied the post.

After a quick refresh of the page, RedSupergiant’s reply popped up.

Get the hell off here, you ageist fucker. Lydia is beautiful and always will be.

Lydia blushed and put the phone down. Whoever this person was, they really seemed to like her. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something. After the breakdown of her marriage to Richard and Rory’s mistreatment of her, it felt nice to have someone say something complimentary about her.

Some people may have found such comments a little creepy. After all, there was no way of knowing exactly who it was who was writing the comments. Lydia suddenly felt a little nauseous, horrified at the thought that it could be a teenager writing all the positive comments. Or maybe, just maybe, it could be a fan of a similar age?

There was just no way of knowing.

For now, Lydia was going to allow herself to be flattered.

***

The assignments continued to come through thick and fast. Winter had already arrived, and Ghost House usually took a short hiatus around Christmas, but with so many applications coming through, the producers had warned Lydia that there was a chance they may continue filming.

As she stood in the house of the show’s latest applicant, Lydia found herself craving a break. Communicating with ghosts was exciting, there was no doubt about that, but the latest encounters had been tiring, and she wanted to take a short break and spend some time with Astrid, who was due to arrive home after a short trip away.

Lydia gave the signal for Andy to follow her as she walked through the home of Benjamin, a youngish man who had asked the show to investigate the vengeful spirit that had been haunting him for the past year. Unlike the guests whom she had helped for her previous two assignments, Lydia had instantly disliked Benjamin. There was something off about him. An air of unpleasantness.

The producers hadn’t felt the same. Robert had been overly friendly with him, which, considering the producer’s recent behaviour, hadn’t surprised Lydia. She didn’t like to judge on appearances and the state of people’s homes, but as Lydia walked around the living room and glanced at the empty beer cans and takeaway cartons, she had a feeling that Benjamin’s uncleanliness had little to do with him being haunted by a nasty spirit and more to do with the fact that he was simply lazy.

It didn’t take long for Lydia's suspicions to be confirmed. The nasty spirit turned out to be Benjamin’s wife, whom he had abused. Lydia found her sitting on a chair in the bedroom, her pale face littered with cuts and bruises. Benjamin hadn’t been the cause of her injuries, though. She had, it turned out, died in an accident.

“I was glad I died that day,” she said to Lydia, as they sat together in the bedroom. “I just felt relieved to be free of him.”

Lydia looked around, immediately feeling Betelgeuse’s presence nearby. She had, like before, told him to wait for a signal. But Eleanor, Benjamin’s wife, wasn’t evil, and Lydia didn’t feel as though she was in danger. She had immediately opened up to Lydia as soon as Lydia had walked into the room, clearly desperate for someone to help her get her abusive husband out of their home.

“I just want him out,” Eleanor said. “I’ve tried possessing him a few times, but it hasn’t done anything. I’ve tried everything. I just want the fucker out of my home. I want to be free of him.”

Lydia smiled and gently reached out, her warm hand brushing Eleanor’s cool one.

“I know a guy who can help,” she said, and she gave Betelgeuse a signal to show himself.

Her business partner was on top form, his charm immediately winning Eleanor over. Lydia watched as he shook the ghost woman’s hand enthusiastically. Surprisingly, he wasn’t wearing his black and white suit but instead a red shirt, coat, and trousers that were a little too short. Old-fashioned shoes and a hat with the word “Guide” on it completed the outfit.

Lydia wasn’t sure why he had chosen a different outfit. He was such a mystery.

“I think we need to get your husband in here so that you two can have a little chat. What do ya say, Lyds? Shall we call him in here?”

Lydia smiled, knowing exactly what Betelgeuse was about to do. She signalled to Andy, telling him to get the producers to send Benjamin back into the house. Andy nodded, passing on a message to Forrester via a walkie-talkie. Minutes later, Benjamin entered the room, and Betelgeuse worked his magic.

Lydia watched, fascinated, as tentacles and claws burst from the face and chest of her business partner. Benjamin screamed as one of the claws reached out and pulled the man closer.

“Why don’t you tell the audience exactly who this spirit is and why it’s haunting you, Benny?” Betelgeuse snarled.

“I…I’m not saying anything!” Benjamin said. “This is my home!”

“Tell ‘em. Now.”

“N-no! Whatever the hell this thing is, it’s lying…I –”

The tentacles and claws quickly retreated into Betelgeuse’s face and body, and the ghost clamped his hand over Benjamin’s mouth. He started to talk, but it was Benjamin’s voice that was coming out of his mouth. It reminded Lydia of the time when her voice had come out of Betelgeuse’s mouth during his first marriage attempt all those years ago.

“My name is Benjamin and I’m an abusive piece of shit. My wife is the one who has been haunting me. I made her life a misery, and she wants me out of the house so that she can enjoy her death in peace. So, I’ll be leaving now. Hope you all enjoy this next part of the show.”

Betelgeuse quickly removed his hand from Benjamin’s mouth.

“Time to take out the trash!” he said cheerily. He pulled a giant trash bag out of his coat pocket, and within seconds, the bag had completely covered Benjamin. Then, tentacles burst out of the ghost’s chest again and lifted the heavy bag with ease. Betelgeuse teleported out of the room, taking the bagged-up Benjamin with him, and Lydia signalled for Andy to follow her to the bedroom window.

They watched through the window as Betelgeuse tossed the struggling man into a passing garbage truck. Then, he turned around and gave a bow, before disappearing again.

“That guy really is amazing. A bit strange and unusual, but amazing,” muttered Andy, pulling his filming equipment away from the window and switching it off. “That’s the third time he’s shown up now. I take it he’s a friend of yours?”

“We…have history,” said Lydia, smiling weakly as she continued to stare at the spot where Betelgeuse had just disappeared. “I’ll meet you outside.”

Andy smiled and nodded at her, before exiting the room.

Lydia suddenly wondered if it was risky for Betelgeuse to show up every time. The producers might start to notice that they were working together. Judging from the recent boost in the show's ratings, though, Lydia doubted that they would be angry about it. One thing was for sure, she was starting to like their partnership. She just wished that her business partner would stop disappearing so quickly after each assignment. His lack of communication was frustrating and a little strange.

Eleanor’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Does he have a business card?”

The woman was still looking out of the window in amazement. Lydia was about to reply when a popping sound came from the top of a chest of drawers. She rushed over to it and saw a leaflet with Betelgeuse’s name on it. Eleanor joined her, frowning at the leaflet, and Lydia handed it to her.

“I think that’s his way of saying that you can use his services anytime you need him,” she said.

Eleanor studied the leaflet.

“Betelgeuse,” she said.

Lydia quickly shushed her.

“Don’t say it again, unless you really need him to come back.”

Eleanor’s mouth curved into a small smile, and then she let out a small giggle.

“He has the same name as the star. Cute. I wouldn’t mind using his services again. He’s very charming, isn’t he? There’s just…something about him.”

Lydia didn’t respond.

There was indeed something about him. He was interfering, oftentimes frustrating, and his booming laugh and silly jokes irritated the hell out of her.

But yes...

There was something.

Lydia sighed.

She really needed some sleep.

Chapter Text

“So let me get this straight,” said Astrid, frowning at Lydia as she clutched her mug of hot chocolate. “You’re working with him? You’re actually business partners?”

Lydia nodded and sighed heavily.

“I didn’t really have a choice. The producers were threatening to fire me.”

“They can’t just fire you. Anyway, it’s not your fault the ratings have slipped. Maybe people just got bored of seeing pots and pans flying around and not being able to actually see any ghosts.”

Lydia glanced at her daughter and grimaced, causing Astrid, who was about to sip her hot chocolate, to pause and frown at her again.

“What? What is it?”

Lydia remained silent and Astrid rolled her eyes.

“There’s something else you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

Lydia didn’t respond. Instead, she sighed and massaged her temple, where a headache was starting to form. Finally, she spoke.

“The pots and pans that were flying around, that was him. He’s been secretly interfering with the show for years.”

“What?”

“He said he was doing it to help boost the ratings and to stop me from encountering any dangerous ghosts.”

Astrid was silent. Lydia glanced up at her daughter, who looked like she was thinking hard about something. Lydia shifted nervously in her seat.

Parenting had always been a challenge for Lydia, especially after Richard’s death. For a long time, Astrid had been angry at her for being unable to see his ghost, but the events of Halloween had helped them to repair their relationship and now, Lydia felt thankful that she had a daughter to share her thoughts and feelings with. Astrid was not only her daughter, but also her closest friend.

Probably her only friend.

No matter how angry she had been at Betelgeuse’s interference in her job, she would always be grateful to him for saving her daughter. For giving Lydia the chance to get Astrid off that Soul Train and finally make peace with her.

But despite their repaired relationship, Lydia’s anxieties had worsened. Since that night, when she had nearly lost Astrid, she had grown fearful of losing her again. The latest school trip had been hard for Lydia. She felt a constant need to know her daughter’s whereabouts, and despite knowing that such feelings were unhealthy, Lydia couldn’t help it. Astrid had already made it clear to Lydia that she wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps when she left school. She wanted to be free to travel, to carry out projects related to the same issues that Richard had felt so passionate about.

And Richard's passion for fighting climate issues had eventually killed him.

The fear was palpable. Lydia often woke at night, sweating, her dreams so vivid that she would rush into Astrid’s room to check on her. Just to check that she was still there. That she was still breathing.

That fear would never go away.

And Lydia was scared. Frightened by the thought that she might not always be able to save her daughter. There were so many dangers out there. Not just malicious ghosts, not just the same dangers that fighting for climate justice had brought Richard, but other dangers. Dangers of toxic friendships and relationships.

The dangers of people.

Being strange and unusual had not been easy for Lydia. She had discovered, the hard way, that people could be unkind and judgemental. And relationships had always been difficult. And now that Astrid had discovered she had the same ability to see and communicate with ghosts, Lydia couldn’t help but wonder if such an ability would affect her daughter’s life the same way it had affected hers.

What experiences, Lydia wondered, would Astrid have to face when it came to relationships?

Would she be tricked again, like she was with Jeremy? Would she meet a man like Rory, who would suck away all her confidence and self-worth? A man who wouldn’t believe in her ability?

The thought of it terrified Lydia. The very thought of someone making her daughter feel the way Lydia had felt about herself after her experience with Rory made her feel sick with fear. Astrid was fast approaching her adult years, but Lydia was becoming more overprotective than ever.

She couldn’t, just couldn’t, lose her daughter.

She was the only person, the only family member, left in Lydia’s life.

It felt so good to have her back home in the house that felt far too big without her. Lydia had always struggled with feelings of isolation and loneliness and those feelings often came up to the surface whenever Astrid was away.

Her daughter’s voice broke her thoughts.

“All those years…he helped you. That’s…that kind of creepy. But also kind of…sweet. In a weird way. A very weird way.”

Lydia sighed and nodded.

“I know. I should be grateful. But…I just…I want to be able to prove myself. To be able to deal with ghosts without anyone’s help.”

Astrid studied her mother for a moment before responding.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with needing a little help sometimes.”

Lydia smiled weakly and reached across the table. She grasped her daughter’s hand tightly, relishing the feel of her warm skin.

Even now, all these years later, Lydia still found it hard to believe that she was a parent. As she stared at her beautiful, smart daughter, who was wise beyond her years, she felt a rush of love.

“He’s not…going to be moving in here or anything though, is he?”

Lydia let out a snort of laughter.

“God no. We just work together at the houses that I’m investigating. Sometimes we have…erm…training sessions here though.”

Astrid raised an eyebrow.

“Training sessions?”

“Yeah. All his idea. He thinks that watching horror movies with the types of ghosts I’m going to investigate will somehow prepare me for the job. So far, we’ve watched the Exorcist and Poltergeist. The Exorcist is his favourite. I’ve no idea why.”

Astrid was silent for a few moments before responding.

“He has good taste in movies,” she said, and then she snorted and shook her head.

“What?” asked Lydia, frowning at her.

“You call them training sessions, but to him they’re probably dates.”

Lydia stared at her in disbelief.

“Dates? We’re…we business partners, Astrid. That’s all it is. Just business. We haven't been having dates!”

“Yeah, you might not think they're dates. But he probably does…”

“The deal between us is strictly business and we aren’t going to break it. I definitely won’t be breaking it.

Lydia shook her head firmly as she spoke.

“I’ll bet you ten dollars that he does, though,” said Astrid, before taking a sip of her drink.

***

Lydia’s stomach churned unpleasantly as she sat opposite Robert and Jeff. The producers had called another meeting, which Lydia knew would be to discuss Ghost House’s boost in ratings.

“It’s incredible,” said Jeff, gesturing at the sheet of paper in front of him. “Just…incredible. We’re well on the way to becoming one of the top shows again and it only took a few weeks! Great work, Lydia.”

Lydia smiled and then glanced at Robert, who seemed oddly quiet.

A light flickered above them.

Lydia shivered. Lately, she had become used to feeling Betelgeuse’s presence. But this…this felt different.

Something about the air didn’t feel right…

Robert finally spoke.

“There is, of course, the matter of the ghost who has been helping you…perhaps we should discuss that?”

Lydia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She had expected this. Betelgeuse had shown up at every one of her dangerous assignments so far. Kate’s possessive husband, the poltergeist who had lost his mind, the abused ghost woman. He had dealt with all of them.

Lydia had, of course, helped, but it was always Betelgeuse who made each assignment a complete success. His presence was getting more and more acknowledgment on the Ghost House forums. People loved him, wanted to see more of him. Lydia didn’t blame them. Those feelings bubbled around in her stomach again. The ones that she had thought she was experiencing because of needing more sleep. Betelgeuse’s newest client’s words swirled around in her brain again.

“There’s just...something about him.”

He had always been fascinating to her. Anyone would be fascinated by his abilities. Lydia thought of Maxie and Sarah Dean, then, and how impressed they had looked when Betelgeuse had emerged from Adam’s model in carnival attire, moments before his arms had transformed into hammers and sent them both crashing through the roof.

However she felt about his interference and his general haunting of her, she couldn’t deny that she was impressed by his ghostly powers.

“He’s a friend of yours, is he?” Robert asked. Lydia thought she could detect something cold in his voice, something strangely accusatory. He drummed his fingers on the table, the impatient gesture making Lydia feel slightly uncomfortable.

“I…we’re not friends exactly. He’s just a ghost who I’ve seen around a few times.”

“A ghost who is clearly helping you with these assignments.”

Lydia was about to speak, but Jeff cut her off.

“Does it matter?” he asked, frowning at Robert. “This guy is great! He’s getting us more viewers! The audience love him. Look, I’ll admit I didn’t believe in ghosts before, but the recent footage from Andy’s camera has been amazing stuff. The viewers are talking and that’s what we want!”

“What if this ghost wants payment?” asked Robert, earning a look of disbelief from Jeff.

“The guy’s dead, Forrester. I don’t think we need to worry about adding him to the payroll.”

Lydia thought about Betelgeuse’s recent clients and how he was very likely gaining some financial benefit of the partnership. She wasn’t going to tell the producers that, though. She didn’t feel it was necessary for them to know that Betelgeuse had his own business, and she also wanted to avoid overexposing him.

“Whatever,” snapped Robert, causing Lydia to frown.

What was the guy’s problem? She studied him, noticing that he looked tired and had possibly a few more grey hairs than he had done at their last meeting. Something was bothering him…

The lights flickered again.

“So!” boomed Jeff, clapping his hands together loudly and causing both Lydia and Robert to jump. “This calls for a celebration! Christmas is coming up, so how about a party?”

“Fine,” said Robert. “I’ll organise it. And perhaps it would be best, Lydia, if you brought a date along? Turning up at a party alone…it’s really not a good look. Not at your age.”

Lydia stared at him, her mouth slightly open in disbelief.

There was being irritable and then there was being just plain rude. Right now, Robert was certainly being the latter. Even Jeff was frowning at him.

There was silence as Lydia tried to process the unpleasant comment. She wanted to defend herself, but she was too shocked to utter a response. The comeback to such a rude comment would no doubt form in her brain hours later. Probably when she was lying in bed, trying to get her brain to switch off.

Jeff cleared his throat.

“Well, er, no pressure, Lydia. We are very happy with your work and we…we want you to enjoy this celebration, don’t we, Forrester?”

Forrester didn’t respond. Instead, he stared at Lydia blankly. She realised, then, that his eyes, which had always been quite warm, looked dead.

“T-thank you, Jeff. I’ll, erm, I’ll look forward to it.”

The atmosphere didn’t improve as the meeting ended. Instead of the pride that Lydia should have felt at Ghost House gaining the success that the producers had wanted, she felt uneasy. The studio felt colder than usual, and Lydia could still feel something in the air.

The lights flickered again.

***

Lydia entered her dressing room and studied herself in the mirror. There was no filming today, but Robert’s comments had left her immediately feeling the need to check her appearance.

Would it really look bad for the company if Lydia attended the celebration party without a date? Was it really such a bad thing for a woman of her age to be single? It’s not as if the event was going to be televised. It was just a party. Lydia couldn’t understand what Robert’s problem was.

She sighed. As she examined her hair in the mirror, her gaze suddenly shifted and caught sight of a shiny box on a chair behind her. She turned around, frowning at the item. It looked like a gift box. There was a label attached. A few words had been written on it in neat handwriting.

Wear this at the party. You’ll look perfect.

There was no name underneath. Frowning, Lydia pulled the lid off the box and was greeted by a large amount of white tissue paper. She pushed the paper aside and found a shiny item nestled inside it. Her hand grasped sleek material and she pulled the item out of the box.

It was a dress.

A very pretty silver dress.

Lydia shook it. It sparkled under the dressing room lights.

It was…nice.

But it just wasn’t her. Lydia thought of tall, glamorous women, with high heels and curvy hips. This dress was far more suited to such women than Lydia.

It wasn’t her style at all.

She grimaced as she touched the material.

Who the hell had sent her this?

That question was answered just a few seconds later when a knock sounded at the door. Lydia went to open it, still clutching the dress. Forrester entered the room, and his mouth curved into a smirk as he noticed the dress in Lydia’s hand.

“You like it?” he asked, nodding at the shiny item.

Despite his earlier disparaging remarks, Lydia decided to be polite.

“It’s…it’s nice.”

“It’s beautiful,” said Robert, stepping closer to her. “Wear it at the party, you’ll look great.”

“I –”

Robert stepped closer.

The lights flickered again.

Lydia noticed that there were bags underneath his eyes. Clearly, he wasn’t getting enough sleep. She stared into his once warm brown eyes, which were now black. Almost pupilless.

She gulped.

“I always thought you would look good in silver. And how about letting that hair loose, hmm?”

Lydia flinched as he reached out and brushed his fingers gently against some stray strands of her hair.

“That hairstyle does nothing for you. You don’t want people to make comments, do you? It’s really not a good look for the team if you turn up looking like you usually do.”

Again, Lydia was stunned into silence.

“Try the dress on.”

“S-sorry?”

“Try it on, right now.”

“I…I don’t…”

Forrester stared at her, oblivious to her discomfort.

“I need to get back home.”

Lydia tried to move past him, but he blocked her way. She suddenly became aware of how much bigger he was than her.

“I’ll give you five minutes to try it on.”

Lydia was about to protest, but he had already left the room, slamming the door behind him. She looked around, suddenly panicking.

She could run away now if she really wanted to. But she didn’t want to jeopardise the show’s success. Or Betelgeuse’s business for that matter. They had a deal, and she had to continue to help him. She hastily stepped out of her clothes and, with great difficulty, pulled the dress on. It was far too tight.

Lydia was not a big woman. She was small, with delicate features. Yet Forrester’s dress was still far too small on her. She frowned and looked at the size. It was one size too small for her.

Had she put weight on?

She didn’t feel bigger. But the dress felt tight…

She jumped as Robert entered the room. He stared at her figure for a few seconds before shaking his head and tutting.

“Getting older is not an excuse to put on a few pounds, Lydia. Honestly, I could have sworn that this dress would be the right size for you. Clearly not. Fine, I’ll take it back and get a bigger size. But you need to be very careful. You don’t want people commenting on your weight on the forum, do you?”

Lydia opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“Change out of it and leave it on that chair. I’ll be in touch with details of your next assignment.”

He paused before he exited the room.

“Maybe think about a weight loss regime and if you can’t find a date, then you’ll be going with me. It’s a far better look for the company anyway than you turning up with some random man or worse, alone. Oh, and er, I’ve decided that you need a manager…”

Lydia’s eyes widened.

“From now on, I’ll be in charge of you. It’s for the best, trust me.”

And without another word, he left.

Lydia blinked, unable to understand what the hell had just happened. Never, in all her time on the show, had Forrester ever treated her like that.

His behaviour just now had reminded her very much of Rory…

The lights flickered again.

And Lydia sighed as she undressed, wondering if she would ever be free of the damage that her toxic ex-fiancé had left behind.

***

Details of the next assignment had already come in and Lydia’s heart clenched painfully as she studied the application for Ghost House’s latest guest. It sounded similar to the scenario with Kate and her husband, but this time, the spirit was not being nasty but rather just refusing to leave the property.

It sounded very much like Lydia would be dealing with a heartbroken spirit. The ghost, she learned, had been murdered and his wife simply wanted Lydia to tell her if her husband had any messages to pass on to her. The whole story sounded so tragic. Thankfully, the producers had decided that a short break was needed, which meant that the investigation wouldn’t be filmed until after Christmas.

The downside was that Lydia still had the celebration party to worry about.

She really didn’t want Robert to be her date, especially not after the whole incident with the dress. But there was no way of avoiding the party. She had to go.

But who else could be her date? She was single and there were no male friends she could ask. Lydia groaned, suddenly wishing that she knew who RedSupergiant was. Her new fan had been active on the forum again, posting nice comments. She knew it was pathetic, but she had immediately logged onto the forum upon arriving home after her awful encounter with Robert, wanting to just read something, anything, nice about herself.

Her thoughts drifted to her business partner. She hadn’t heard much from him, not that she should expect to. Their relationship was purely business after all. Lydia stared at the email again and decided to call him.

He took a little longer than usual to arrive which, for some reason, bothered Lydia. But as always, he materialised, looking enthusiastic and ready to listen to whatever she had to say. She showed him the assignment.

Betelgeuse studied the email in silence before clearing his throat.

“Well,” he said, “I think we both know what movie to watch to prepare for this one.”

Lydia did indeed know, and she groaned inwardly as she signalled for him to follow her, relieved that Astrid wasn’t home at that moment.

***

Lydia didn’t cry at sentimental movie scenes often, but it was indeed a challenge for anyone to not shed a few tears at the scene that her and Betelgeuse were currently watching.

Lydia bit her lip hard, tears pricking her eyes as the opening lines of Unchained Melody sounded from the television in front of them. She watched as Sam, through his possession of the psychic medium Oda Mae, reached his hand out to touch Molly’s face, his fingers gently brushing the cheek of the loved one that he had left behind after having his life cruelly taken away from him.

It was at that moment that Lydia suddenly became very aware of her business partner sitting beside her and she turned her face away, quickly brushing the stray tears off her cheeks.

For some reason, she didn’t want him to see her crying. She felt embarrassed. She had always kept her emotions hidden, never quite being able to find the right person to open herself up to. Usually, if she was watching a sad movie, she would watch it alone, preferring to release her emotions in private. She wondered why on earth she had agreed to watch a movie as heartbreaking as Ghost, with her business partner of all people. A business partner who just happened to be a…ghost.

Lydia stole a quick glance at Betelgeuse, half expecting him to be sniggering at the scene.

But he wasn’t.

Instead, his expression was soft, and she watched as he swallowed hard. She wanted to tear her gaze away from him, knew that she shouldn’t be sneaking glances at him, but she couldn’t help it. She had never seen him look like this before.

As Unchained Melody continued to play and Sam embraced Molly tightly and began to dance with her, she found herself wondering what experiences Betelgeuse had had with love. Had anyone ever broken his heart? Had he ever been treated badly by anyone?

Lydia hadn’t thought he was capable of loving anyone. He had been so chaotic when they first met and there had been no romantic gestures during that first wedding attempt. The second time though, it had seemed like there had been some kind of shift. A change in his behaviour towards her. Lydia wasn’t totally sure if such behaviour had been genuine though. Part of her still believed that the whole MacArthur Park sequence was simply part of his theatrics, part of his scheme to get her to marry him so that he could be free.

She had told him that she didn’t want any more wedding attempts or declarations of love, but she wasn’t sure if Betelgeuse had ever truly loved anyone. The whole sequence had left her feeling rather bewildered. It seemed like he had felt something for her. His eyes had given that away.

But he was such a mystery to her.

A mystery that she really wanted to solve.

And as he watched Sam embrace Molly, he looked…sad. He remained silent, his blue eyes fixed on the screen. His arm was slung lazily around the back of the sofa, something that he always tended to do during their “training sessions”. Lydia hadn’t paid any attention to it. Until now.

She suddenly became very aware of it and as she watched the couple embracing and dancing slowly to the song, she felt an overwhelming need for someone to hold her.

The lyrics of Unchained Melody swirled around in her head.

Woah, my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch.

When, she wondered, was the last time anyone had given her a hug? She had held Astrid tightly after the teenager had arrived back from her school trip.

But when was the last time anyone had held her like Sam was holding Molly? Rory’s affection had always been too much for her. His embraces had always been clumsy, and his affection had always been expressed at the most inappropriate times.

And Lydia now knew that such affection had all been an act.

Her thoughts shifted to Betelgeuse’s arm again and how dangerously close it was to her. She stole a quick glance at him. He was still engrossed in the movie, his blue eyes still fixed on the screen. The whole arm thing was clearly accidental. Just a relaxed gesture.

And that was fine, really.

Lydia was very pleased that it was accidental.

Because they were business partners.

It didn’t matter that she was desperate for someone to hug her after such a shitty day. She usually didn’t feel such an overwhelming need for affection. But Forrester’s words, feelings of tiredness and the love story of the movie they were watching, had left her wanting some.

She finally broke at the end of the movie. As Sam said goodbye to Molly, telling her he loved her before walking into the light and leaving her forever, Lydia thought of Kate, whose husband haunted her out of desperation for her to join him in death. She thought of the poor poltergeist who just wanted a friend, his loneliness and refusal to move on finally leading to insanity. And finally, she thought of Eleanor and how, in death, she wanted to escape the husband who had made her life a misery.

Three very difficult and very different assignments, for which Lydia had had very little time to process. They had come in quick succession, testing her abilities, throwing her into a partnership with a ghost who she had told, very firmly, that she didn’t want any inappropriate comments or declarations of love from.

But as she sat there now, thinking of those assignments, thinking of Rory’s mistreatment of her, of Robert Forrester’s derogatory comments and shocking attempt to make Lydia believe that she had put on weight, she felt her emotions explode and she realised just how much she needed some affection.

How much she needed a friend.

She couldn’t…wouldn’t…let Betelgeuse see her like this. It just wasn’t appropriate. They were business partners. Not friends.

She excused herself, not even bothering to wait for Betelgeuse to say anything as she bolted to the bathroom and released her emotions, sobbing as quietly as she could. But being the annoyingly observant ghost that he was, Betelgeuse knew straight away, when she emerged from the bathroom, that something was wrong.

“Lydia?”

The utterance of her name was surprisingly soft. She held a hand up to silence him.

“Bad day, it’s an emotional movie. I’ll be fine.”

She looked at him, then, and noticed that he too looked a little emotionally drained.

“It’s more than just the movie though, isn't it? Could tell somethin’ was wrong when I first arrived. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

Betelgeuse threw her a look, and Lydia sighed.

“We’re business partners,” she said. “I don’t want to bore you with my problems.”

Betelgeuse tilted his head and smiled at her. A genuine smile. Lydia thought it rather suited him.

“I’m all ears,” he said, grinning.

Lydia jumped as several pairs of ears sprouted at the side of Betelgeuse’s head.

She rolled her eyes and sat back down next to him. His arm was still slung across the sofa. She told him about Robert Forrester’s comments, then, and about the incident with the dress. When she finished, she glanced at Betelgeuse.

He looked livid.

“You can’t let him speak to you like that, Lydia.”

“He’s my manager now, or so he says. It was all just so random, so out of character. I don’t understand it.”

“Want me to possess the fucker? I can scare him out of the studio if you like?”

Lydia threw him a warning look.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. no inappropriate behaviour,” Betelgeuse muttered.

“I really don’t want him to be my date,” Lydia said, placing her head in her hands. “The dress wasn’t my style at all.”

“So don’t wear it,” Betelgeuse said, shrugging. “Wear somethin’ else. Wear what you want to wear. Don’t listen to that fucker. And there’s a simple solution to you not wantin’ him to be your date…”

His voice trailed off and Lydia stared at him.

He was grinning at her.

“I’ll go with you to the party. Strictly as business partners of course. No inappropriate behaviour. That way, this Forrester guy won’t bother you.”

“And how are you going to attend without anyone knowing it’s you? You’ve already been seen by lots of Ghost House’s viewers. No, it’s too risky.”

“Have you got anyone else you can ask?”

Lydia sighed.

“No,” she admitted, and the realisation of her answer stung.

“Well, there ya go then. Problem solved. I’ll go with you. As business partners. We’ve both worked hard, we deserve to enjoy this party and that’s what we’re gonna do, right?”

His grin widened and Lydia grinned back at him, despite her low mood. She couldn’t help it. That goddamn lop-sided grin was infectious.

Lydia was grateful to have him in her life at that moment. Just as a business partner, of course. Nothing else.

She went to bed in a much better mood that evening.

Chapter Text

Betelgeuse was seething. He paced his office, clenching and unclenching his fists, feeling an overwhelming urge to teleport to the Ghost House studio and haunt the shit out of that fucker Forrester.

How dare he? How fucking dare he insult Lydia like that?

It had taken Betelgeuse a lot of effort to hold it together when Lydia had told him what Robert had said to her. It had almost been painful resisting reaching out and wrapping his arms around her. Especially after watching that damn movie, which he was now regretting.

It had been hard, so hard, watching the moment when the ghost of Sam had embraced his living lover, Molly. Sitting next to Lydia, knowing that he couldn't express his feelings, that he couldn’t even reach over and put his arm around her, had been torturous. Sam’s love for Molly had echoed Betelgeuse’s own feelings for Lydia. The look on Sam's face as he was finally able to touch his living lover had caused feelings to stir deep within Betelgeuse, feelings which, when he had first entered the afterlife, he would never have believed he would have felt again, not after his experience with Delores.

But Lydia had shown him, unknowingly of course, that there were still people out there that were worthy of his love. That not every woman was deceitful like Delores. Lydia was kind, patient, caring and beautiful. She was everything he wanted. Everything that Delores was not. He had thought, all those years ago, that he was in love with Delores, but now he realised that such attraction had been nothing but lust. His feelings for her had been nothing compared to what he felt for Lydia.

Betelgeuse pulled out his mobile phone and started typing furiously, releasing all the feelings that he had been holding in all evening into a text message to no one.

It was becoming harder to stick to the contract.

He needed a distraction.

He stopped typing and glanced around the room at his new employees. A bunch of skeletons. They had excellent typing skills, but he hadn’t quite worked out how they were going to be able to operate the phones. The shrinkers had at least been able to make a few mumbling noises.

He sighed as he continued to pace the room.

His business was going well, that much was true. But there was a constant ache, a constant longing for something. As though his afterlife just wasn’t complete.

He knew exactly what he was longing for. But he couldn't have it. Couldn't have her.

Being near Lydia was like being near a dangerous object that must not be touched. An object that is out of bounds. An object that is forbidden.

Betelgeuse knew that he was playing with fire. He knew that going to that party with her was going to be the ultimate test because he knew that whatever Lydia wore, he was going to be enraptured by her beauty. She could wear a goddamn garbage bag, and she would still be beautiful to him. And being unable to tell her how beautiful she looked because of their deal was going to kill him, going to drive him to his second permanent death.

He sat down at his desk and groaned.

It would have been so much easier if he had been able to move on. If he had just been able to find someone else to marry so that he could gain his freedom, instead of falling in love and ending up in this mess.

Fuck this, time to get some work done, he thought.

He glanced around the room and wanted to get out of his chair and ask his employees if there had been any new jobs from his clients. But he didn’t. Instead, he stared at the phone in his hands and opened the Ghost House forum.

It was like a compulsion. An overwhelming need to constantly defend Lydia. A need to protect her from the assholes of the world.

Betelgeuse himself was no stranger to unpleasant comments. Unlike Lydia, though, such unpleasant comments were a compliment to him. If a person told him that he looked scary or weird, his day would be complete. After all, scaring the shit out of living people was what he did best. If he didn’t look the way that he did, then he wouldn’t have been able to get any business.

There were certainly benefits to being a six-hundred-year-old ghost covered in green moss. He had never been hurt by unpleasant comments. Being strange and unusual was a blessing for him.

But he knew that for Lydia, having a strange and unusual personality had not been easy.

She was a sensitive soul, far more sensitive than he was. He knew that she tried her best not to let negative comments bother her, had seen the things she had been through after lingering nearby and watching her for so many years. He wished, at that moment, that he could somehow see that fucker Rory again, so that he could make him pay for taking away all the confidence and the thick skin that Lydia had tried to build up.

And now this other idiot, Forrester, was making her feel like shit about herself. She didn’t deserve it.

He was about to type out some responses to the latest influx of nasty comments when a hand blocked his view of the phone. A skeleton’s hand.

He looked up, sighing heavily as George, his lead worker, loomed over him. George was a great assistant, there was no doubt about that. But his empty eye sockets and permanently open-mouthed expression were depressing to look at.

Not for the first time, Betelgeuse found himself missing Bob’s huge, expressive eyes and sewn-up mouth. Whenever Betelgeuse had spoken to him about work or about Lydia, Bob had mumbled in response. It had always given Betelgeuse reassurance, a sign that his loyal worker had been listening to him. A sign that he had a friend.

Such a sign couldn’t be given by the skeletons. George couldn’t mumble in response or widen his eyes at Betelgeuse’s words. All he could do was nod, a gesture which brought no comfort to Betelgeuse. They were like soulless robots. Empty shells. He hadn’t even wanted to employ them. What choice did he have, though, when his army of shrinkers, apart from Bob of course, had been so disloyal?

George was holding a piece of paper, which he held out upon catching Betelgeuse’s attention.

“Thanks, George,” said the ghost, taking the sheet from him.

George gave a tiny nod and walked away.

Betelgeuse sighed as he looked at the details of his latest bio-exorcist job. Kate’s husband wanted the latest family who had entered his marital home out of the house. Betelgeuse had already frightened away several other families, including those who had heard news of the house being haunted and who had simply wanted to enter the property out of curiosity. The guy was giving him lots of business, that was for sure.

And Betelgeuse was pleased about that because it was getting harder every day to stick to the contract.

He wanted, needed, the distraction.

He was determined to keep busy.

***

“What about this one?” said Astrid, holding up a long black dress with intricate lacework around the shoulders.

Lydia studied it for a few seconds before shaking her head.

“It’s nice, but it’s too…”

“Too what?”

“Too…gothic.”

“Mom, you are gothic. You are the embodiment of gothic. This dress is so…you.”

“I know,” said Lydia, sighing as she examined the dresses on the rack in front of her. “That’s the problem.”

“Why is that a problem?” asked Astrid, frowning.

“Just…some people wrote some comments on the show’s forum, complaining about what I wear.”

“It’s a show about ghosts. What the hell do they expect you to wear? A bikini?”

Lydia laughed weakly and shook her head.

“The producers don’t like my choice of attire either, probably because the viewers don’t.”

Astrid rolled her eyes.

“So, you’re going to just let them tell you what to wear? Mom, don’t listen to them. Go try this on.”

Lydia smiled and took the dress from her daughter.

“And these too,” said Astrid, handing Lydia a pair of black shoes which, like the dress, were decorated with intricate lace patterns. The heel was small, almost flat.

“Maybe I should wear heels.”

“You never wear heels. Why start now?”

“Like I said. They hate the way I dress.”

“Who cares? That is your style,” Astrid said, pointing at the dress. “And so are those,” she added, nodding at the shoes. “Go try them all on.”

Lydia nodded and headed towards the changing room. As she changed into the clothes, Lydia found her thoughts drifting back to Robert Forrester. Since his announcement that he was going to be her new manager, Lydia had noticed an increase in the number of calls, texts, and emails from him.

It was almost suffocating.

And every email and text contained some sort of comment about her appearance.

Had she ever considered wearing her hair down?

Had she ever thought about wearing high heels to boost her height?

Had she considered wearing the black dress that showed off her cleavage a little more often? The viewers would, in Robert’s words, “go crazy for it.”

It was relentless.

At first, Lydia had thought it was normal for producers to try and dictate what their presenters wore. But the comments were becoming more personal each day.

As she ran her fingers over the delicate lace of the dress, Lydia’s thoughts drifted to Rory. He had, many times, tried to tell her what to wear. He had made constant suggestions about her hair, her clothes, and had even complained about her dislike of shoes with high heels.

“You know I prefer it when you wear heels, Lydia,” he had said to her once. “I like to be able to look into your eyes.”

Lydia sighed as she thought about that goddamn expression that he always used to pull whenever he said things like that to her. A kind of fake puppy-dog-eyed look. A look that he always gave her whenever he wanted her to pay attention to his words. It had all been part of his plan to manipulate her, to make her dependent on him so that he could eventually take her money.

She pulled on the shoes and examined herself in the mirror. She thought the dress suited her. And it went very well with the shoes, which she was pleased about.

But what would other people think of the outfit? Would the producers like it? Would the rest of the production team, the makeup team and everyone else who was going to be at this celebration party like it?

Would Betelgeuse like it?

Lydia’s eyes widened.

Where the hell had that thought come from?

She stared into the mirror, watching as her reflection frowned back at her. He was her business partner. Why the hell would it matter what he thought about her outfit? They weren’t even friends. Not yet.

Lydia continued to watch her reflection as her frown slowly disappeared and her mouth curved into a small grin. He had done a wonderful job of cheering her up after her experience with Forrester, though. She had been happier than she wanted to admit at his suggestion of accompanying her to the party. With him there, she was sure to be safe.

He had, after all, been keeping her safe for so long now.

She leaned against the mirror and closed her eyes. When, she wondered, had this shift in her feelings towards him happened? She had, for so long, thought that his presence had caused her trauma, that him haunting her had made her life miserable.

Just a couple of months ago, she had wanted him out of her life, had wanted him to disappear forever. She had even told him so when she had stormed into the attic and shouted at Adam’s model after those pop-ups had appeared on her phone, right at the moment when she had been telling Rory that she wanted a small, private wedding…

It was like he had known…like he had been able to hear their discussion. Lydia thought back to his second wedding attempt then and how he had removed the social media influencers from the church. He had known that she wanted her wedding to be small and private. He must have known.

What else about her life, Lydia wondered, did he know about? He had been involved in Ghost House for all those years without her knowing, but what else had he seen in those thirty-six years since that first wedding?

It was stalkerish, creepy, there was no denying that.

And yet…

There was also something oddly flattering about it all. No one, absolutely no one, had ever gone to so much effort to keep Lydia safe. Not Delia. Not even Charles. Both had always been far too immersed in their hobbies to pay Lydia much attention. Delia had admittedly improved as Lydia got older, but even her stepmother’s love and care could not compete with the level of commitment that Betelgeuse had shown when it came to keeping her safe.

For years, he had protected her, stopped her from being harmed by dangerous spirits. The whole situation was puzzling. Lydia couldn’t understand what was so special about her. She was sure that there were plenty of other women he could have tricked into marrying him.

A noise from outside the changing room interrupted her thoughts.

Lydia sighed and pulled the curtain aside. She shifted nervously as she caught Astrid’s eye. Her daughter studied her for a few seconds before grinning widely and giving her a thumbs up.

“It’s very…you,” she said. “It’s perfect, and you are definitely wearing it to the party.”

***

The week leading up to the party was uneventful for Lydia. She was happy about that, though, because she was able to spend more time with Astrid, who was off school for the holidays. Lydia had never been a fan of winter. She disliked the bitingly cold weather and mourned the loss of the gentle autumn breeze that was neither too cold nor too warm. The Winter River house always seemed cold, no matter how much she had the heating on.

That week passed quickly, and the evening of the party soon arrived. Lydia’s stomach churned as she sat on the sofa, thinking about the dress that she had chosen and wondering again what the production team’s reactions to it would be. Robert had tried, several times, to persuade her to wear the dress that he had brought, insisting it would fit her now that he had swapped it for a larger size. Lydia had outright refused, which hadn’t pleased him.

Her business partner had been surprisingly quiet, which Lydia found odd. She had watched several movies since that training session, and it had felt strange having Astrid sitting beside her instead of him. She rolled her eyes as she glanced over at her daughter, who was currently sniggering at Regan vomiting all over Father Karras.

Just what was so damn funny about that scene? Lydia shook her head, unsure of how to feel about the fact that her daughter had the same sense of humour as Betelgeuse.

“Love this movie,” said Astrid, still laughing and shaking her head. “You can tell that the vomit is fake.”

“Of course it’s fake,” said Lydia, rolling her eyes. “It’s hardly going to be real, is it?”

But Astrid didn’t respond. She was still laughing, her eyes fixed on the television. It didn’t matter that Betelgeuse wasn’t there because right now, Astrid’s snorts of laughter at the most inappropriate points of the movie were making Lydia feel very much as though she was sitting next to him. Not that she was complaining. However irritating the similarities between Astrid and her business partner's sense of humour were, Lydia felt happy, grateful, to have her daughter sitting beside her. She stole another glance at the teenager, smiling and shaking her head as she watched her shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

How nice, she thought, it would have been to have someone to sit and watch movies with like this when she was a teenager. She glanced at the television, trying hard to battle the feelings of sadness as she thought about how lonely she had often felt during her younger years.

She sighed, causing Astrid, who was about to reach for some more popcorn, to pause and glance at her.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s never nothing.”

“Just thinking about the past, that’s all. Are you still going out?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re definitely sure that this boy is…not a trickster ghost?”

Astrid rolled her eyes.

“Yes, mom, I’m sure. I’m meeting him to discuss a school project. He’s popular, so unless everyone in school can somehow see ghosts, I’m sure he’s alive and well.”

“And his parents will be in?” Lydia asked, trying to push gruesome visions of Jeremy’s murdered parents out of her mind. “You won’t be alone with him?”

Astrid sighed.

“No, I won’t be alone with him.”

Lydia closed her eyes and exhaled, trying hard not to let those feelings of fear consume her again.

“Look, I’ll let you know when I’m at his house, ok? You don’t need to worry.”

She reached out and took Lydia’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

Lydia had never felt more grateful than she was for her daughter at that moment. Most teenagers would have lost their patience with an overprotective parent by now, but not Astrid. She had been surprisingly understanding about Lydia’s anxieties.

Astrid let go of her hand and pushed herself up off the sofa.

“Enjoy the party,” she said, grinning.

“Thanks, I will,” said Lydia, smiling weakly as her stomach continued to churn unpleasantly.

As she watched Astrid leave, Lydia suddenly realised that the recent lack of contact between her and Betelgeuse had resulted in no plans being made. Lydia suddenly wished she had contacted him sooner to discuss it all. She had no idea what he would be wearing or how they would even be travelling to the party. She glanced at the clock on the wall and suddenly panicked. She only had an hour to get ready. She was usually organised, but watching the movie with Astrid had distracted her and she had lost track of time.

Lydia rushed upstairs, quickly showered, and then put on the dress. How, she wondered, should she style her hair? Should she wear it up, like she usually did? Or should she let it hang loose, like Robert had suggested?

She suddenly wished she had a friend to get ready with. She sighed, feeling pathetic. She was fifty-two, and here she was, wishing that she had a friend to get ready for a party with, like a goddamn teenager. Lydia had always been content with getting ready for events alone, never being the type to crave a companion with whom she could share pre-party drinks and gossip. But right now, as she dried her hair and applied her makeup, she couldn’t help but feel that stab of loneliness, the same stab that she had often felt as a teenager. She wanted a friend to give her their opinion, to tell her whether she looked okay. Astrid, of course, had given her some confidence, but Lydia didn’t want to burden her teenage daughter. She didn’t want to make her feel as though she had to be a best friend to her middle-aged, overly anxious mom when she should be out with friends her own age and making the most of her youth.

Youth is, after all, painfully fleeting.

The thought saddened Lydia. Where had all those years gone? She shook her head, once again unable to believe that she was no longer a teenager but a woman in her fifties with a teenage daughter of her own. She glanced at her reflection. Despite all those negative comments about the way she chose to dress, Lydia thought she didn’t look too bad. In fact, she thought the dress really did suit her. Her shoulders were exposed, the delicate material of the dress sitting just underneath them. Lydia examined her smooth, creamy skin, before glancing down at her cleavage.

Was it too much? Too little? Would she be judged for showing any cleavage at all at her age? Would people think her makeup was suitable?

Lydia sighed heavily. She was satisfied with how she looked at that moment, but it was damn hard to feel confident when she was dealing with negative comments every day, as well as comments from her new manager who was behaving very much like her deceitful ex-fiancé.

Lydia ran her fingers through her hair, which hung loosely, sitting just below her shoulders. She sighed, deciding to twist it into an elegant updo. She pinned her fringe, which she had decided to grow out a little since reading those awful comments, to one side. A few stubborn strands kept coming loose, though. Lydia twirled them around her finger. The action was a nervous habit that she had developed at some point during adulthood but also a desperate bid to somehow make the strands look a little curlier because she didn’t own a curling iron.

Then, when she was finished, she took a deep breath and summoned her business partner.

There was no reply.

Frowning, Lydia tried again. Again, there was no reply. Lydia suddenly started to panic. Where the hell was he? They had to be at the party soon.

Five minutes passed.

Lydia tried again.

Still, there was no answer.

She glanced at the clock and reached down to fiddle with the hem of her dress, something that she always did when she was anxious. She pulled her hands back up, sighing, as she remembered that the dress was far too long for her to carry out her nervous habit.

She felt like a goddamn teenager, waiting for her prom date to arrive.

She groaned. Why oh why hadn’t she called him sooner to make plans? What was taking him so long to respond?

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and Lydia jumped backwards as Betelgeuse materialised in front of her in a puff of smoke. Usually, he would make a big deal of turning up whenever he had been summoned, greeting Lydia with his arms spread out and a wide grin on his face. This time, however, he had his back to her. He brushed himself down. His suit had more creases than usual, and his hair was wilder than it usually was, if that was possible.

“Sorry, I was doin’ a job. Gotta keep the clients happy. It’s fuckin’ exhaustin’, I tell ya. But it’s –”

His voice immediately died down and trailed off as he turned around and caught sight of Lydia standing there in her dress. His blue eyes widened.

“Woah…” he muttered. He uttered the word so quietly that it was almost inaudible.

Lydia frowned.

Was that a good reaction? He looked so frazzled and stressed that it was hard to tell what he was feeling.

“It’s the party tonight,” said Lydia, somehow finding her voice. “I should have called you sooner, but I assumed you were busy. You’ve…you’ve been so quiet lately.”

Betelgeuse didn’t speak. Instead, he continued to stare at her, his blue eyes raking over her body. Lydia suddenly felt herself blushing furiously under his gaze and turned her face away.

“I…Astrid recommended that I wear this. I…I’m just hoping it’s okay. You know, after all the comments I’ve been getting on the forum.”

Betelgeuse remained silent.

Lydia’s heart was suddenly hammering furiously against her chest, and she really wasn’t sure why. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.

God, Rory taking away her confidence really sucked at that moment. She wished she was the type of person who didn’t give a shit what people thought. A person who was happy in her own skin. Happy with being strange and unusual. Happy with wearing clothes that, according to those comments on the forum, didn’t conform to societal beauty standards.

She used to be.

Until Rory. Until those awful comments. Until Robert.

Finally, Betelgeuse spoke.

“I, er, I’m sorry, Lyds. I forgot about the party. You know what it’s like. Business is boomin,’ I’m a busy guy.”

Lydia tried hard not to feel offended at the fact that her business partner had completely forgotten their...date? No, it certainly wasn’t a date. It was just simply business. But he had forgotten. And that…that somehow made her feel a little worse.

But she understood. She knew what it was like to be so busy that events slipped her mind.

“It’s…it’s fine,” she said, noting that he hadn’t even commented on the dress. “What…what are you going to wear? It’s too risky you turning up in…”

She nodded at his black and white suit.

Betelgeuse frowned before glancing down at himself. He gave a snort of laughter.

“Oh, I ain’t gonna be wearing this, don’t worry.”

“So…what will you be wearing?”

He grinned at her.

“You’ll see.”

“Well, you’ll, erm, need to get changed. We need to leave soon. I’ll call a cab.”

But Betelgeuse shook his head.

“I’ll meet you there,” he said. “Never been a fan of travellin' by car.”

“But how will I know where to find you? What will you be wearing?”

“It’s a surprise,” the ghost replied, before throwing her a smirk and disappearing, leaving Lydia to stare at nothing but smoke.

And as she stared at that smoke, she couldn’t help but think of a certain phrase.

If a person has nothing nice to say, then it’s better for that person to say nothing at all.

Betelgeuse had said nothing about her dress.

Well, he had made some kind of noise, but that told Lydia absolutely nothing. She sighed, wondering if she should change out of it and wondering why the opinion, or rather the lack of opinion, of a six-hundred-year-old ghost, a ghost who was her business partner, mattered so much.

Was he being careful because he was worried about breaking the contract? Or was his lack of words confirmation that he didn’t like the dress?

Even if he was being careful, it was so unlike him not to give any comment at all. Lydia suddenly felt bad, then, for expecting a comment. For wanting him to like the dress. No one should feel obliged to compliment her. They were business partners. She shouldn’t be expecting him to give her compliments.

And she definitely, definitely, shouldn’t be wanting such compliments. Not from him.

Lydia groaned and felt her stomach churning unpleasantly again. Not just because she was about to attend a party where there would be people who had made it clear that they didn’t like the way she dressed, but because she had no idea what Betelgeuse was going to wear.

She had never been a fan of surprises.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

An unnatural sound escaped Betelgeuse’s mouth as he sat at his desk with his head in his hands. It was somewhere between a whine and a groan and sounded very much like a wounded animal. He felt something, or someone, tap his shoulder and glanced up to see George standing in front of him. The skeleton was tilting his head to one side, which, if Betelgeuse had to guess, was skeleton-speak for “Is everything okay, boss?”

“I’m fine, just fine. Everything’s fine,” the ghost managed to say. He waved his hand to dismiss his lead worker, and George gave a small nod and walked away, his bones rattling as he did so.

Everything was, in fact, not fine.

Betelgeuse continued his groaning and whining, trying very hard to push the image of Lydia in her dress out of his mind.

But he couldn’t.

His brain (and his body for that matter) had reacted instantly to seeing her in that dress. She had looked gorgeous. Stunning. Perfect.

Just perfect. Utter perfection.

She was flawless.

Her beauty had rendered him speechless. Which, if you asked him, was a good thing, because it made it so much easier not to blurt out how perfect she had looked. But then, the longer he had stood there, his eyes raking over her body, drinking her in, the harder it had become not to tell her. Not to give her the compliment that she was so worthy of.

Not to tell her how beautiful she was.

He groaned again as he thought about her creamy, soft-looking skin. Her slender shoulders. Her…cleavage. It had been so damn hard trying to stop his eyes from lingering on that. He stuck a fist in his mouth, his groans vibrating against his cold skin. God, this was one of the hardest things he had ever had to endure. This was torture.

He was supposed to be getting ready for the party. But he couldn’t move. He was rooted to the spot, stuck in the seat at his desk. His legs didn’t seem to work anymore.

Lydia had reduced him to a huge, six-hundred-year-old pile of mush. She had turned him so soft that he might as well just slide off his chair right now and form a puddle on the floor. And then evaporate. Just die a second permanent death.

Death by Lydia’s beauty. Poof. Gone forever.

What the fuck had he become?

It wasn’t a new experience by any means. He had been enraptured by Delores’s beauty when they had first met all those centuries ago. But he had never, never ever, expected himself to fall so hard for any woman ever again.

But then Lydia happened.

She had grown more beautiful as she had aged, and that beauty wasn’t just on the outside. It was also deep within her.

He was, there was no denying it, absolutely crazy about her. This wasn’t just a small crush. This was pure lovesickness. Something he had never ever felt before.

He hadn’t been lying when he said he hated travelling by car. Why travel in such a way when he can simply teleport? But that aside, there would have been no way that he would have been able to sit next to Lydia for an entire car journey. No way that he could be in such close proximity with her looking like that. With her sweet scent invading his nostrils.

He was feeling guilty, too. He had been deliberately keeping himself busy with his bio-exorcist business to reduce contact with Lydia because being around her was becoming more and more difficult as time went on.

And as a result, he had completely forgotten about the party.

The party that he had suggested accompanying her to.

God, he felt like such an asshole. She didn’t deserve a business partner who treated her like that. But what choice did he have? He had to stop himself from breaking that contract. He had to be careful because he didn’t want Lydia to be put into a dangerous situation.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, running a hand over his face. “Get a grip, Geuse.”

He needed to get to that party. No matter how hard it was, he needed to make sure that Lydia was okay, especially after Forrester’s recent behaviour towards her.

He clicked his fingers, and his black and white suit disappeared, leaving him sitting there in his party attire. He reached inside his new jacket and pulled out a mirror, smirking as he ran a hand over his face, over the areas where the moss had been just moments ago.

Then, he said a quick goodbye to his skeleton workers and teleported to the party.

***

Lydia sat at a table on her own, twiddling her thumbs. Just where the hell was he? Her eyes darted around the room. No one, absolutely no one, was standing or sitting alone like she was. Everyone had a date, and everyone had a friend who they could speak to. She had been there for probably twenty minutes, and she was already wanting to go home. Andy, the cameraman, had said hello to her and introduced her to his wife who, unsurprisingly, was very glamorous.

Lydia knew that she stood out amongst the crowd. Like a black crow in a flock of colourful birds. Several people had stared at her as she had entered the room. The lacy black dress was the only one in the sea of silvers, golds and other sparkly party attire.

“Cheer up, Lydia!” Mike, a member of the production team who she had never liked, had bellowed at her as she had walked into the room. “This is a celebration, not a funeral!”

Tiffany, one of the makeup team, had approached her instantly, her face scrunched up as she examined Lydia's dress.

“It’s great, it’s…really great! A very nice effort,” she had said with forced politeness, nodding her head slowly as though she were complimenting a child. Lydia had smiled as politely as she could, muttered a quick “thanks”, and walked away, unable to deal with any more patronising comments.

She groaned as she watched Robert Forrester emerge from the crowd and shifted uncomfortably in her seat as he approached her.

“Lydia,” he greeted, holding his hand out for her to shake. “You look…”

He shook his head.

“Should have worn the silver dress,” he said in a sing-song voice. “Honestly, it is definitely better than…”

His voice trailed off as Lydia folded her arms.

“I’m happy in this dress, thanks,” she said.

But she wasn’t happy. She had been happy before she had arrived at the party. Before Betelgeuse’s lack of comment on her dress. Before the stares and before Tiffany’s patronising remarks. But now…now she was wishing that she had worn something more…normal. Something that enabled her to fit in with everyone else.

“Well, try to smile a little, eh? Miserable face. Black dress. This is a celebration, Lydia. Not a funeral.”

He shook his head and walked away.

Lydia sighed and watched the waiters walking around with their trays and holding them out to the guests. Where the hell was her business partner?

She groaned, wishing that there was at least one other person in the room with attire that wasn’t considered normal. She watched as couples swayed to the music, trying to ignore the twinge in her chest. The twinge that always seemed to appear whenever she saw groups of friends together or couples being affectionate.

A loud noise interrupted her thoughts, and Lydia looked up to see the double doors that she had walked through almost half an hour earlier swing open. A figure stood at the door, his arms spread out. Lydia frowned, wondering who on earth the man was. She had never seen him in the studio before. The man stepped forward, glancing around the room, grinning at the other party guests, who were staring at him. He gave them a little wave, before mouthing “hello”, nodding his head at random people as he did so. He was wearing a pinstriped suit, and a top hat was perched on his head, tilted sideways. He held a cane in his hand.

Lydia couldn’t decide if he looked like a distinguished gentleman or an absolute idiot. Whichever one it was, her wish for someone just as strange and unusual as she was to be at the party had just been granted.

The man nodded enthusiastically at a passing waiter, who paused to offer him some champagne. Then, he gave an over-the-top bow before taking a glass off the tray. He gulped it back, downing the bubbly liquid in one go, placed the glass back on the tray and let out a humungous belch. Then, he patted his chest.

“Better out than in, that’s what I always say,” he said in an exaggerated posh accent, grinning at the staring party guests around him.  

Like those guests, Lydia couldn’t help but stare at him. He seemed so familiar to her…

Then, he caught her eye. Lydia quickly looked away, horrified, not wanting this man, no matter how much his strange and unusual personality matched her own, to come over to her. The sound of footsteps grew louder, and Lydia closed her eyes, knowing that he was standing over her.

“Sorry I’m late,” the posh voice said, and Lydia opened her eyes to see a pale hand being waved in front of her face. She frowned. Who the hell was this guy? She stood up and turned to face him properly.

And her heart almost stopped.

It was Betelgeuse.

Only, he didn’t quite look how Betelgeuse usually looked.

But it must have been him, because this man who was standing in front of her had the same blue eyes. People could, of course, have similar eye colours to each other, but she would recognise Betelgeuse’s eyes anywhere. And as her eyes shifted to his mouth, which suddenly curved into the ghost’s signature lop-sided smirk, she knew for certain that it was him.

The moss was completely gone, leaving nothing but smooth, pale skin. The black circles around his eyes had faded considerably, leaving behind dark shadows that made it look like he was wearing some kind of makeup. Betelgeuse removed his hat, revealing surprisingly tidy hair that had been brushed back, though several strands had come loose and were hanging over his high hairline. His grin widened, showing a glimpse of moss-free teeth.

He straightened up, holding his head high, his hand perched on his cane.

“Ya like it?” he asked, his posh accent completely gone, replaced with his gravelly voice.

Lydia was silent, unable to tear her gaze away from him. Without the moss and dark circles, she could see his sharp features more clearly. The pale skin made his eyes shine bright. They looked like sparkly gems under the venue’s lights.  

The suit, top hat and cane were ridiculous. Just utterly ridiculous and yet so…him. And there was something, just something, mesmerising about his features. The brushed-back hair and the whiteness of his skin accentuated his jaw, the bump on his nose, and his bright eyes, making him look almost vampiric. His pure white skin was flawless. Like marble. But somehow, it looked soft. Touchable. The highlighted imperfections made his appearance look somehow more…interesting. More…appealing.

Suddenly realising that she had been silent for far too long, Lydia cleared her throat. Before she could utter her response, though, a waiter approached them and held out a tray of canapés. Lydia, who had never been particularly fond of fancy food, politely declined, but Betelgeuse took one of the small snacks.

“Thank you very much,” he said to the waiter, his posh accent now back. He bowed dramatically as the waiter walked away, before popping the snack into his mouth. Lydia felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Robert standing next to her.

“The main buffet will be out very soon,” he said, his eyes settling on Lydia’s chest. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“You must have spent a fortune on this,” she said, gesturing to the waiters and the glitzy decorations. Lydia had never been one to feel excitement over the festive season, but the Christmas Tree that stood in the corner of the room was admittedly impressive.  

“It cost a bit, I’ll admit that,” said Robert. “But this is a celebration. The show is doing so well at the moment. It’s –”

He was cut off by a spluttering sound and Lydia watched in horror as Betelgeuse spat the snack that he had just put into his mouth into his hand.

“What the hell is that?” He said in his usual gravelly voice, scrunching his face up.

“That,” said Robert, looking at Betelgeuse disapprovingly, “is the finest caviar we could find.”

“What the hell is caviar?”

“It’s salt-cured roe.”

Betelgeuse looked at him blankly.

“Fish eggs,” said Robert, looking Betelgeuse up and down as though he were something unpleasant on the bottom of his shoe.

The ghost made a face and was about to speak but remained silent when he caught sight of Lydia’s expression. Lydia tried to shake her head discreetly, suddenly panicking at the ghost using his normal voice in front of Robert. He had spoken many times in the footage that had been captured during the investigations. People on the forum were starting to recognise his gravelly voice and notice his presence. Lydia didn’t want Robert to realise that this strange and unusual man who was accompanying her to the party was Betelgeuse. She shot him another warning look, hoping he would understand.

Luckily, he did, because he quickly changed his voice.

“Fish eggs, you say? Well, it’s…not to my taste.”

He nodded at the pile of food in his hand. Lydia groaned inwardly, plucked a napkin off the table and handed it him.

“Is he a friend of yours?” Robert asked, nodding at Betelgeuse, who was trying to scoop the now mushy snack out of his hand. Lydia noticed that the producer’s eyes still lacked any warmth and were as black as they had been the other day when he had ordered her to try the silver dress on.

“I’ve known him a while,” Lydia said, sighing as she watched her business partner open his napkin, inspect the destroyed snack and wrinkle his nose.

A waiter passed by, and Robert suddenly jumped out of his seat and grabbed two glasses off the tray. He handed one to Lydia. Lydia took it, noting that he hadn’t bothered to ask if Betelgeuse wanted one. Luckily, the ghost didn’t notice.

“A toast,” said Robert, lifting his glass up, “To all the spirits out there who are helping to boost our ratings.”

Lydia lifted her glass reluctantly. For a long time, Robert had, like Rory, been dismissive of ghosts. Lydia wasn’t sure whether he believed in them now that he had seen Andy’s footage, but the fact that he was choosing to toast the dangerous spirits rather than acknowledge Lydia’s hard work stung a little.

“Oh…you’ve helped too, of course,” Robert said, as though he had been able to read her mind. “Still think an outfit change would help, though.”

He leaned forward, causing Lydia to flinch. His black eyes shifted to her cleavage, and for one horrifying moment, Lydia thought he was going to touch her chest.

“You really should show them off more,” he said, his voice almost a purr. “It would help to boost the ratings even further.”

Lydia’s breathing started to quicken, and she immediately glanced at Betelgeuse, who had stopped examining the contents of his napkin and was now glaring at Robert.

“You know what I think, Robert?” he asked, leaning across and locking eyes with the producer. “I think you should really consider using some hair dye. Those grey hairs…they add about ten years onto you. I mean, you’re already…what? Fifty-five? Sixty?”

“I’m forty-five,” said Robert through gritted teeth.

“Forty-five?” said Betelgeuse in his forced posh accent. He stroked his chin. “Have you ever considered moisturising?”

“I’ll go and see how they’re getting on with the buffet,” said Robert, glaring at Betelgeuse and moving away from the table. Lydia couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter as she watched him walk away.

“You are terrible,” she said, as Betelgeuse grinned at her. “He’s the producer and my new manager! You can’t say things like that to him!”

“Why not? He seems to think it’s ok to constantly criticise your appearance, so why shouldn’t someone criticise his?  The fucker shouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it.”

Lydia shook her head and took a sip of her champagne. She didn’t drink often, but the bubbles were pleasant and were helping her to relax a little.

“That,” said Betelgeuse, nodding at the napkin containing the snack that he had spat out, “is fuckin’ disgustin’. Seriously, who eats that shit?”

“It’s a delicacy.”

He snorted in response and shook his head.

“What’s wrong with some bruschetta or mozzarella? That’s what a canapé should consist of. That’s real food. Not fuckin’ fish eggs.”

“You like Italian food?” asked Lydia, surprised by this information.

“Well, yeah, being Italian, I do tend to have a liking for it.”

Lydia stared at him.

“You’re Italian?”

“Sì! Born in Italy, died in Italy.”

Lydia took a sip of her drink and shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling in a much better mood than she had when she had first arrived.

“I never knew that,” she said, the words coming out much softer than she had intended.

She suddenly wanted to know more.

“What’s your favourite Italian food?”

Betelgeuse scrunched his face up as he contemplated his answer.

“Probably pizza. Not the crap that you get in those boxes though, that I’ve seen you eatin’ out of. I’m talking about real, authentic pizza. Crispy crust, plenty of cheese.”

Lydia nodded her head in agreement, then frowned.

“Hang on,” she said. “When have you seen me eating takeaway pizza?”

Betelgeuse suddenly looked sheepish.

“Er, psychic connection,” he said quickly tapping his head.

Lydia took another swig of her drink, studying him carefully.

“What exactly is this psychic connection that we’re supposed to have? Because I know absolutely nothing about it.”

“Well, you know how I kept an eye on you to er, help with your show. Well sometimes, I’d see you…doing other stuff.”

Lydia’s eyes widened.

“What stuff?” she asked, suddenly panicking.

“Nothin’ personal. I didn’t see any…personal stuff. Just…I was just able to see you sometimes…over the years…able to see what was goin’ on in your life”

His voice trailed off. Lydia knew that she should have been creeped out by his admission. But his words, his confirmation that he had indeed been a presence in her life all those years, caused a strange but pleasant bubble of something within her stomach.

And it wasn’t just the champagne bubbles.

A waiter passed by, and Lydia quickly grabbed two glasses of champagne and handed one to Betelgeuse. He took a large gulp and placed his glass down before letting out another loud belch, earning a few disapproving glances from other partygoers. Then, he leaned back, causing his shirt to tighten over his belly. Lydia could see the white skin poking out thought the gaps between his buttons. He scratched his belly absentmindedly and glanced around the room with a nonchalant look on his face.

And Lydia felt an overwhelming urge to giggle. It must have been the alcohol because she was not the giggling type.

He just looked so…silly. Sitting there in his pinstriped suit, his top hat almost hanging off his head. His cane propped against the table. His belly poking out of his too tight shirt. Most people would probably find the ghost’s ridiculous attire, lack of manners and his nonchalance unappealing. But to Lydia, there was something so goddamn…endearing about it all. It didn’t used to be. It used to be mildly irritating, but somewhere along the line, and Lydia wasn’t sure when, there had been a shift. But Lydia would never admit that. She wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

She was just so pleased to have him there with her. To have someone to talk to and connect to. To have someone to learn more about.

“Personally,” Betelgeuse said as he continued to look around the room and picked up his glass of champagne, “I prefer beer.”

The statement did nothing to ease the strange feelings that Lydia was experiencing at that moment

It must be the alcohol. It must be.

It hit her, then, that she was sitting at a table with a six-hundred-year-old ghost and that no one in the room, absolutely no one, knew that he was a ghost apart from her. There was something exciting about it. It filled her with a sort of childish glee. Here they all were, these judgmental people, with their perfect party outfits and perfectly groomed dates, and here she was, sitting with someone who, like her, was strange and unusual.

There was no longer just one black crow in the flock of colourful birds, but two.

She wasn’t alone anymore.

She glanced at Betelgeuse, who was still looking around the room. He had such an interesting side profile. It was so different, so unique. So…striking.

He turned back to face her and locked eyes with her. His eyes were so…blue. So bright. So…warm. Lydia looked away, suddenly feeling embarrassed. She cleared her throat, hoping that he hadn’t somehow been able to read her thoughts with this psychic connection that he kept speaking of. The contract would surely be broken if he knew that she was having these inappropriate thoughts about his appearance and personality. They were business partners. And Lydia was determined for it to stay that way. Ghost House was doing well, his bio-exorcist business was doing well. It had to stay that way. It just had to.

“So…you were alive during the Black Plague?” she asked, after a few moments of silence. 

“Yep.”

“What was it like?” Lydia asked, perhaps a little too excitedly. She was aware that she probably sounded like a child asking too many questions, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to know more about her business partner. There was absolutely nothing inappropriate about wanting to get to know the person you were working with.

Nothing too personal, of course, just a few little facts.

But Lydia couldn’t stop.

She listened as he talked about his experiences with the Black Plague, utterly fascinated by it all.

“Were you immune?” she asked, as Betelgeuse described his life as a “humble grave robber”.

“Musta been,” he replied. “I stole dead people’s teeth and put ‘em in my mouth, never did me any harm.”

“Eww,” said Lydia, wrinkling her nose. “God, that’s disgusting. Why am I not surprised?”

Betelgeuse smirked and took another gulp of his drink.

And the more they drank, the more the conversation flowed. They talked a lot about Italy and Betelgeuse’s life, and Lydia opened her mouth to ask how he had died, her alcohol consumption enabling her to be brave enough to ask such a personal question. But, frustratingly, she was cut off by Robert making an announcement that the buffet had opened.

Betelgeuse clapped his hands together, looking pleased.

“Let’s hope there’s somethin’ better than that caviar crap.”

“Do you even need to eat?” Lydia asked as she watched him get up from the table. “You’re dead.”

“I’m aware of that, Lyds. And no, I don’t need to eat. But I like to.”

He grinned at her.

“You comin?”

Lydia set her glass down and stood up. The room suddenly span, and she stumbled backwards. Betelgeuse’s hand shot out, steadying her.

“Woah,” he said. “Looks like you had a few too many bubbles!”

“Jesus,” muttered Lydia, bringing a hand up to her face. “Shouldn’t have had alcohol on an empty stomach.”

“Sit down, wait there. I’ll get ya some food.”

“No, I’m fine. Really…”

“Seriously, Lydia. I’ll get it.”

“I need to pee,” said Lydia, her light-headedness causing her to groan and place her head in her hands.  

Betelgeuse let out a laugh.

“Want me to take you?”

Lydia frowned at him. His eyes widened in horror as he realised what he had just said.

“Nothin’ inappropriate, of course. You just…I don’t want you fallin’ over on the way to the, er, ladies' room.”

“I’m a grown woman,” said Lydia, trying to push herself up out of her seat. “I’ll manage.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. But…thanks.”

She smiled at him, and he flashed a quick smile back before walking off to fetch the food.

Lydia watched as he walked and let out a snort of laughter. His walk was so silly.

Strangely adorable.

God, she really wished that she hadn’t had so much to drink.

The lights flickered.

***

Betelgeuse picked up a chicken drumstick and sniffed it before throwing it onto his plate and hoping his hands were clean enough. He wasn’t usually one to bother with cleanliness, being a dead guy and all, but he knew that Lydia would disapprove of him handling food without washing his hands. So, he had made sure to use the little bottle of hand gel on a table next to the food, wincing at the awful scent of ethanol with notes of something sickly floral as he did so.

He piled food onto Lydia’s plate, hoping that it would soak up the alcohol. He spotted a nicely decorated cupcake and placed it next to the sandwiches, salad and chips, whistling as he did so. A waft of perfume entered his nostrils, causing him to glance up.

A woman had been reaching out for a cupcake at the same time, and her hand brushed his accidentally. She quickly pulled it back.

“Wow, your hands are so cold!” the woman said, turning and looking him in the eye. She was tall and attractive, her blonde hair pulled neatly into an updo. Her dress sparkled under the lights, her heavy cleavage almost hanging out of her top.

Now, Betelgeuse appreciated an attractive woman. Always had done. But since falling in love with Lydia, he had no interest in other women. And there was something about this woman, no matter how attractive she was, that he didn’t like. An air of something snobbish.

“Do we need to turn the heating up?”

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you, ma’am,” Betelgeuse said in his over-the-top posh accent.

The woman studied him, smiling.

“The name’s Tiffany! You’re very interesting looking. Very unusual features.”

“Why, thank you, I aim to please,” said Betelgeuse, throwing an olive into the air and catching it in his mouth. The woman giggled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Are you a friend of Lydia’s? You seem to be getting on very well.”

“We’ve known each other a while.”

“Between you and me, dear,” said the woman, leaning closer to him, her sickly perfume invading his nostrils again. “Her dress is terrible, isn’t it? This is a celebration party, not a funeral. Everyone on the forum is talking about her fashion sense. Ugh. Be a friend, will you? Tell her that she needs to work on her style. I run the makeup department, and it’s a nightmare trying to get her fringe to look right for the show. A nightmare, I tell you.”

The woman shook her head.

Betelgeuse chewed his olive nonchalantly as she spoke. Then, he leaned forward and spoke.

“Between you and me, darlin’”, he said, switching back to his usual gravelly voice. “Your dress is terrible, isn’t it? This is a celebration party, not a strip club. And no, I won’t be tellin’ Lydia that she needs to work on her style, because she looks a million times better than any of you stuck-up fuckers.”

He quickly glanced over the woman’s shoulder, checking that Lydia wasn’t nearby. He was safe. Lydia wasn’t around to hear him complimenting her. So, it was acceptable. The contract was safe. Nothing inappropriate had been said or done. At least not to Lydia’s face, anyway. 

He loaded some more sandwiches onto his plate, turned back to the woman, who was staring at him open-mouthed, and gave her an exaggerated bow.

“Have a pleasant evening, ma’am,” he said in his posh accent before letting out a booming laugh and walking away.

He shook his head as he walked, still grinning, and glanced at Lydia’s table. She still wasn’t back yet, which he found strange. But what he saw next stopped him in his tracks. A man who looked familiar was leaning over Lydia’s drink. Betelgeuse watched as the guy pulled a blister pack containing some pills out of a packet and emptied a couple into her glass.

Whatever effects Betelgeuse had felt from the alcohol instantly disappeared, and he immediately sobered up and sprung into action. He rushed towards the table and slammed the plates down, making the guy jump as he did so. Then, unable to contain his anger, he grabbed the guy by the collar and slammed him into the nearest wall.

The room suddenly went quiet.

The lights flickered.

Any warmth seemed to disappear completely, replaced with a chill so biting that even Betelgeuse could feel it. The man was breathing heavily, and Betelgeuse looked deep into his eyes, wanting to see the terror in them.

“I’m gonna give you ten fuckin’ seconds to tell me what the fuck you were doin’ to Lydia’s drink.”

The man glanced around the room, blushing furiously as he noticed everyone’s eyes on him.

“I-it’s just dissolvable painkillers!” he said, his words coming out in a stutter. “Look!”

He pulled the packet out of his jacket. Betelgeuse frowned as he stared at the label.

“Why the hell are you puttin’ aspirin in her drink?”

“Because he told me to!” The man said, pointing at someone behind Betelgeuse.

Betelgeuse let go of the man’s shirt and turned around to see Robert standing there. The producer had an unpleasant grin on his face and was shaking his head and tutting loudly.

“Come on, Jeff,” he said, a dangerous edge to his voice. “You know that’s not true!”

“You told me to put some into her glass because you thought she’d had too much to drink, and the alcohol would give her a headache! Look…”

Jeff pointed frantically at the packet in his hand.

“Ridiculous!” said Robert. “Mixing alcohol with painkillers is never a good thing, Jeff. You know that. Why on earth would I ask you to put pills in her drink?

“You threatened me!”

Robert shook his head.

“Let’s take a look at that, shall we?” he said, pushing Betelgeuse out of the way and earning a glare from the ghost as he plucked the packet out of Jeff’s hand.

“What’s going on?” Lydia’s voice sounded from behind Betelgeuse, and the ghost turned around to look at her. Her gaze shifted from Betelgeuse to Jeff then Robert, who was holding the packet up to his face and examining it.

“He told me to put painkillers in your drink!” said Jeff, nodding at Robert. “Said he thought you’d been drinking too much and that you always get a headache when you drink too much champagne! I refused! I was the one who told him that painkillers and alcohol shouldn’t be mixed! He threatened me!”

Lydia didn’t respond, instead continuing to frown at Robert. Betelgeuse moved closer to her, suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to protect her from the two producers.

The ghost watched as Robert slowly peeled off the label to reveal another label underneath.

“Well, look at this,” Robert said, glancing up at Jeff and smirking.

Betelgeuse frowned and looked at Lydia, whose eyes widened with shock as she glanced at the packet in Robert's hand.

“Rohypnol?” her voice was small, the words almost a whisper. The ghost watched as she stepped closer to Jeff.

“Roofies? You were putting roofies in my drink?”

Betelgeuse shifted his gaze to Robert, who was shaking his head dramatically. The action seemed exaggerated, almost fake…

“This is bullshit!” shouted Jeff, stepping close to Lydia. Betelgeuse immediately moved closer to her. “I refused to do it, and he started threatening me! He said he would fire me if I didn’t do it. I can’t lose this job. Honestly, Lydia, I had no idea it was Rohypnol!”

Lydia turned to face Robert, frowning.

“Is this true, Robert?” said Lydia, swaying gently on her feet. Betelgeuse steadied her. She was clearly still a little drunk.

“Of course it isn’t,” said Robert. “He’s lying, Lydia. We all know that pills and alcohol don’t mix. He’s clearly batshit. I would never ask him to drop pills into your drink. He’s gone crazy.”

He shook his head.

Lydia opened her mouth to speak, but Robert help up a hand, cutting her off.

“Don’t speak, Lydia. Jeff is clearly lying and used your excessive alcohol consumption as an opportunity to slip something into your drink.”

“You told me they were painkillers, and you threatened to fire me if I didn’t put them in her drink!” shouted Jeff. “Lydia, I would never do that to you. I had no idea what those pills really were, please believe me. He must have stuck a label over the top!”

Jeff pointed at Robert.

“He’s been acting weird for weeks now!”

Robert shook his head.

“This really is unacceptable, Jeff. You’ve been seen slipping drugs, roofies, into Lydia’s drink. Her friend saw you do it, didn’t you? Tell everyone what you saw.”

Betelgeuse glared at Robert as the producer addressed him.

He stared down at Lydia, who was looking up at him with wide eyes, and nodded.

“Well, there we go! Confirmation!”

“You’ll pay for this, Forrester!” growled Jeff. “I’ve been on this production team for years. Fucking years!

“Time to get the studio’s security team to remove you, I think,” said Robert, looking around the room. “I’m so disappointed in you, Jeff. You’ve let us all down. And worst of all, you’ve let Lydia down. You’re off the team.

“Fuck you!” shouted Jeff. “You’re toxic! Lydia, there’s something wrong with this guy, you gotta believe me! He never used to be like this, you know that!”

The lights flickered as he spoke the words.

Lydia groaned and placed her head in her hands, and Betelgeuse had to resist the urge to rub her back in a gesture of comfort. He watched Robert’s mouth curve into a smirk as two security guards grabbed Jeff and began to escort him from the room.

“Don’t listen to him, Lydia!” the man shouted, struggling against the guards. “He threatened me! The box said it was aspirin!”

He continued to protest loudly as the guards dragged him away.

“Show’s over!” shouted Robert to the guests, who were still staring. “We can continue the party now that we’ve exposed that dirtbag!”

Betelgeuse scowled as the producer placed a hand on Lydia's shoulder.

“That was a close call, Lydia. It could have been very serious. But just know that I saved you. I exposed him. In future, don’t drink so much. It really isn’t a good look. But Jeff’s gone. He’s out of the picture, and you’re safe now. I’m your manager. You can depend on me.”

He rubbed Lydia’s shoulder and Betelgeuse had to resist the urge to pull out his black and white punching glove and hit the fucker in the face. There was definitely something not right about this guy…

The lights flickered again.

Robert gave Lydia’s shoulder another pat.

“You can go, buddy,” the producer said, grinning at Betelgeuse. “I can take care of Lydia now.”

“I’d rather stay, thanks…pal,” said Betelgeuse, not bothering to disguise his accent this time.

“Fine,” said Robert and he locked eyes with the ghost. Betelgeuse frowned as he studied the man’s appearance. His eyes were completely back. The fucker looked like he was being possessed.

He watched as the producer walked away, and Lydia groaned beside him.

“I want to go home,” she said, her voice shaky. “Can you teleport us?”

And Betelgeuse desperately wanted to wrap her up in his embrace. Wanted to take her away from this room full of judgemental fuckers. Away from Forrester…

“Are you sure you can handle the teleportation?” he asked, holding a hand out to steady her. “Might be best for you to have some food first. Look, I got you a cupcake!”

Lydia smiled weakly as she eyed the plate of food that Betelgeuse had chosen for her. Then, she looked up at him, her expression soft.

And his dead heart almost melted.

“Thank you,” she said softly before joining him at the table.

***

Betelgeuse was doing his best to hold his business partner up as they materialised inside the Winter River House.

He had insisted, as they had eaten their plate of buffet food together earlier, that Lydia drink some water, but she had refused. Instead, she had grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

Betelgeuse had told her, very firmly, that he didn’t think it was a good idea to have any more to drink, but Lydia had insisted that she was fine. The alcohol that she had consumed beforehand and the incident with Jeff and Robert had left her in a very depressed mood. And he knew that Lydia tended to self-destruct when she was in such a mood. He had seen such behaviour over the years, had seen her abuse of pills. The action of reaching for another glass, when she was already drunk, was Lydia's way of self-destructing. The alcohol had, in that moment, simply been a replacement for the pills that she had tried very hard to ditch.

And now, despite him trying desperately to avoid any inappropriate contact, he had no choice but to carry an intoxicated Lydia to the sofa, where he laid her down gently. He sighed as he watched her eyes flutter shut.

“S-sorry,” she mumbled. “S'been a while since I got drunk like this.”

The words came out slow and slurred.

A noise caused Betelgeuse to look up, and he caught sight of Astrid, who had entered the room and was now frowning at the sight of Lydia slumped on the sofa. The teenager’s eyes widened as she locked eyes with him.

“Hey, kid,” said Betelgeuse, giving her a small salute. “Don’t worry, your mom’s fine. Just had a little too much to drink. We’ve all been there.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t usually go there,” said Astrid, folding her arms. “She hardly ever gets drunk. What’s happened?”

“Will explain tomorrow.”

“Trickster ghost,” slurred Lydia. Betelgeuse stared down at her, frowning. He looked up at Astrid, who rolled her eyes.

“If you're referring to the boy I met up with earlier, mom, I already told you. He isn’t a trickster ghost. Like we discussed earlier, he’s a boy at school who I’m doing a project with, and he’s very much alive and well. I texted you to let you know I arrived at his house, but you must have missed it. You need to stop worrying so much, not every boy is like Jeremy. Here, let me help.”

The teenager approached Lydia, but Lydia waved her arms around, then covered her face with her hands.

“No, don’t. S'fine,” she slurred. “Feel sick, but fine.”

“I’ll take it from here, kid,” said Betelgeuse, nodding at Astrid. “Your mom’s gonna be fine, promise.”

Astrid studied him for a few moments before sighing heavily.

“Fine,” she said. “I’m gonna head off to bed. Sure you’ll be ok, mom?”

“She’ll be fine,” said Betelgeuse.

Astrid nodded and left the room.

Betelgeuse stared down at Lydia, whose eyes were now closed. He sighed and sat down next to her.

“You…should go. Your business…”

“Lyds, it’s late. I ain’t worried about my business right now.”

Lydia’s lip wobbled, and Betelgeuse closed his eyes and sighed. He had been worried that this would happen. And there was absolutely nothing he could do to comfort her because of that damn contract.

“Why me?” Lydia asked, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Why would Jeff do that to me? I thought he was a good guy. But there aren’t any good guys, are there? First Rory and now…I’m tired, just so tired of it all…”

There was nothing but silence for a few moments, and Betelgeuse watched as Lydia’s eyes fluttered shut again, and her breathing started to deepen.

“Lyds?”

She was asleep.

He stared at her face. Even drunk and dishevelled, she was still incredibly beautiful. Her dress had slipped down a little, displaying even more cleavage and Betelgeuse, with great difficulty, tore his eyes away, not wanting to stare at her in such an inappropriate way at a moment when she was so vulnerable.

She was like glass to him. Like a fragile item that could be broken at any moment. A stray strand of hair had fallen into her face.

He had already worked out that he was safe to say and do some things, as long as Lydia didn’t know about those things. Carrying out any inappropriate actions or expressing feelings was fine, as long as it wasn’t to Lydia’s face. The contract wouldn't be broken. It was fine.

He waved a hand in front of her face. She continued to breathe deeply, releasing a tiny snore. Even drunk, asleep, and with her mouth open wide, she still looked adorable.

He quickly looked around the room, before glancing back at Lydia and reaching out, gently tucking the loose strand of hair behind her ear. Then, he conjured up a black and white blanket and gently covered her up.

Such actions were fine because Lydia couldn’t see him doing them. The blanket wasn’t too much of an inappropriate gesture. He was pretty sure that even business partners would do the right thing and look after each other should one of them end up intoxicated and incapable of looking after themselves.   

He wanted to protect her so badly. To keep her safe, just like he had been doing all those years.

It was becoming so hard to stick to the contract, but Betelgeuse was prepared to endure all the suffering in the world if it meant keeping Lydia safe.  

“I’ll always keep you safe, Lydia,” he said softly as he watched her sleeping. "I hope you know that."

He would be keeping a close eye on Forrester.

Chapter Text

The room was spinning. Lydia clutched her head, groaning. She sat up, grasping the blanket that had been draped over her.

The black and white blanket that she had never seen before.

Lydia frowned, running a hand over the material. It was soft. She lifted it to her nostrils and inhaled. The scent of moss and grave dirt mixed with something pleasantly woody entered her nostrils.

The scent of him.

Lydia scrunched her eyes shut as she experienced that horrifying moment. That moment when visions of the night before would enter the brain of a person waking up the morning after having far too much to drink. The memories were unclear, broken. But they flashed through her brain like someone flicking through their holiday snapshots on a projector.

Betelgeuse turning up in his silly suit.

Betelgeuse talking about his life in Italy as they sat at the table.

And then…

Oh god.

Lydia’s breathing deepened as the memory of Robert peeling the label off the packet of pills, revealing that Jeff had tried to slip drugs into her drink. Jeff, a guy who she had known for many years. A guy she had trusted. A guy who, despite his tendency to leer at women like he had done at the video of the young social media beauty influencer at that meeting a few weeks ago, would never have tried to harm Lydia in any way.

Until last night.

Tears pricked Lydia’s eyes as she tried to fight the waves of nausea that were threatening to come to the surface. She took a few gulps of air, hoping that it would push them back down.

Was there anyone she could trust anymore? Any good guys out there? She was so confused. The whole incident had shaken her up. She just couldn’t believe that a man who she had thought would never harm her would do something like that. Robert had told her that he had saved her from Jeff, had told her that she could depend on him. But there was something not right about Robert’s behaviour either. He had been acting strangely for weeks…

Another image flashed through her brain, causing Lydia to groan loudly. Betelgeuse helping her into the house, her leaning on him in her drunken state.

She covered her face, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. The waves of nausea continued to crash around in her stomach as she started to panic, wondering if she had said or done anything inappropriate. She thought of his silly outfit again then, and the same thoughts that had swirled through her brain the night before began to do so again. His strangely endearing personality, his striking features, his kind gesture of giving her a blanket.

He had treated her with nothing but kindness. He had made her smile, brightened up her evening, and made the party far easier to endure with his presence. She felt a twinge of something deep within her chest. She wanted to ignore it, but she couldn’t. Images of him leaning back in his chair, his nonchalant expression, and his too-tight shirt exposing his belly entered her brain. Those images disappeared, replaced by ones of his striking features. His nose, his jaw… his blue eyes. Those damn blue eyes, which were always so bright and warm, despite him being dead.

Lydia closed her eyes and groaned again.

He had even got some food for her from the buffet because she was already too damn drunk by that stage to even walk properly. And not once had he complained or judged her. Not once had he been unkind or patronising about her self-destructive behaviour. He had been patient, calm, helpful…caring.

All the things she never would have expected him to be. Certainly not when they had first met in the attic all those years ago, when he had been chaotic and selfish.

Rory had always infantilised her, treated her like a child when it came to her pills. Scolding her when she took some, taking them off her and putting them in the trash so that she would become more dependent. Offering to take pills with her as part of his plan to manipulate her. But Betelgeuse hadn’t done any of those things when Lydia had drank far too much at the party. She remembered him trying to give her a drink of water, but she had refused. And he hadn’t taken the glasses of champagne off her or berated her for her decision to continue drinking. He hadn’t offered to drink with her.

He had simply sat there, letting her make her own choices, however bad those choices had been, and then patiently helped her in the aftermath. Covered her up with a blanket. The gesture wasn’t inappropriate by any means, just simply something that a person would do when taking care of someone incapable of looking after themselves. The kind of thing a friend or even a business partner would do.

It was something that Rory would never have done.

Lydia suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to cry. The simple gesture had moved her so deeply. Betelgeuse’s actions had caused a shift in Lydia’s brain, and she couldn’t help but feel as though he was slowly transforming into someone who she could call her friend.

But what if he secretly saw her as an inconvenience? What if he had been secretly annoyed by her drunken behaviour? Surely he would have been honest with her and told her if that was the case? Betelgeuse wasn’t the type to keep his remarks to himself. If someone pissed him off, he would tell them so. But he hadn’t said one negative thing about her last night. Not one. But he also hadn’t said anything particularly positive, either. His actions had been thoughtful, but there hadn’t been many words.

The thought of him not saying anything about her dress still stung.

But they were business partners, and Lydia knew that the relationship had to remain professional. It just had to, for the sake of both their careers.

A noise interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up to see Astrid entering the room, a glass of water and a packet of painkillers clutched in her hands.

“Thought you could use these,” the teenager said, as she placed them down on the table. “Rough night?”

Lydia groaned in response, and Astrid rolled her eyes.

“Don’t expect any sympathy.”

“I know, I know,” said Lydia, reaching for the pills and water. “It's self-inflicted. I shouldn’t have had so much to drink.”

“So why did you?”

“I don’t know. To start with, I was just trying to relax, but then something happened, and I just…”

Astrid joined her on the sofa. Lydia gulped down a couple of painkillers and placed the glass and packet of pills on the table.

“Jeff, one of the production team who I’ve known for years, tried to slip something into my drink. My new manager exposed him.”

“God,” said Astrid, looking horrified. “You need to quit right now.”

“What? No, no it’s all taken care of now…I think. Robert’s been acting weird for weeks now, though. It doesn’t make sense. Buying me dresses that are too small to make me believe I’ve put on weight, constantly being critical of my appearance, and the studio always feels so…cold. Just so cold.”

“Seriously, Mom, do you even need to carry on doing the job? It’s not like we’re struggling financially, are we?”

Lydia sighed and rubbed a hand over her face.

“It’s not just about the money, Astrid. That’s important, obviously, because I want you to have a secure future, but this…this is also about me. About testing my abilities. Taking on assignments that I’ve never done before. And we…he and I… our partnership is going so well. I don’t want to ruin that.”

Astrid sighed.

“He took care of you last night, you know.”

“I know.”

“He’s…not so bad. Kinda weird…but not in a bad way. That was nice what he did for you last night.”

“I know.”

Astrid’s mouth curved into a smirk, and Lydia immediately waved her hand dismissively.

“We’re business partners. Nothing more, Astrid. He was just doing the right thing, that’s all.”

Astrid let out a laugh and pushed herself off the sofa.

“Of course. It was totally just business partner-related stuff,” she said, nodding her head as she spoke.

Lydia watched as her daughter left the room, and the wave of nausea that had been crashing around in her stomach finally came to the surface.

Somehow, she made it to the bathroom.

One thing was for sure, she was never ever drinking champagne ever again.

***

The next few days passed quickly and, like before, Lydia heard nothing from her business partner. She wanted to call him to thank him for taking care of her in her inebriated state, but she felt too ashamed and embarrassed to speak to him. His business was going well, and Lydia knew that he was busy. She didn’t want to bother him, didn’t want to remind him of her drunken state. She would rather just forget it all.

But she couldn’t.

The whole evening kept replaying itself in her head, and her anxieties worsened as the days went on. She constantly wondered if she had said or done something inappropriate. The contract clearly hadn’t been broken, but Lydia still couldn’t help but be worried about being drunk in front of him. In front of all those party guests.

The studio had taken a break from filming, but the forum was still very active as people waited for the new episodes. And the incident with Jeff had attracted much attention. Lydia sighed as she scrolled through the comments, wishing, not for the first time, that she hadn’t had so much to drink that night. Her eyes raked over the influx of new posts, her heart suddenly hammering.

Is it true that one of the producers slipped something into the presenter’s drink?

It’s true! He tried to drug her! Robert Forrester, the head of the production team, caught him! The guy’s a hero!

And then, further down, Lydia noticed more discussion about the party.

Did anyone see the photo posted on Ghost House’s Instagram page? The one from the party?

Lydia quickly accessed the Instagram page, and there, amongst the recent posts, was a photo of Robert, Jeff, and some other members of the production team at the party. Tiffany, the head of the makeup department, was also in the photo, leaning slightly forward, her heavy chest almost bursting out of her dress. Several other attractive members of the makeup team were present, all grinning at the camera.

The photo had clearly been taken early on before the whole incident with Jeff. Lydia glanced at the caption that accompanied the photo.

Celebration time! Let’s get the party started – this hardworking team deserve it.

Lydia felt a stab of hurt. Why hadn’t she been included in the photo? She was the goddamn presenter. The one who entered the homes and did the investigations! Even Andy the cameraman and his wife had managed to get a spot, standing behind Tiffany and her makeup team, both beaming at the camera. No one, absolutely no one, had approached Lydia and asked her if she would like to be in the photo. Everyone else’s hard work had been acknowledged on social media but hers. These people had skills and had worked hard, there was no denying that. But Lydia had worked hard too. And no one, no one at all, had even mentioned her name.

Taking a deep breath, she closed the Instagram page and went back to the forum. What she should have done was come away from social media and forums altogether. But that overwhelming need to continue looking at the comments took over, and within seconds, her eyes were raking over the reactions to the Instagram photo on the forum.

I saw the photo! God, that woman in the glittery dress is so hot!

What I don’t understand is why that producer tried to drug the middle-aged goth presenter. All those hot women at the party, and he chooses her. The guy has lost his fucking mind!

I totally would have slipped something into that woman’s drink, the one with the big tits in that photo. She’s fucking hot! Way hotter than the presenter.

Lydia closed her eyes, visions of Tiffany in her tight dress with her cleavage spilling out entering her mind. She refreshed the page and felt another stab in her stomach as she noticed how many people had given positive reactions to the vile comments. She did a quick refresh and noticed that her fan, RedSupergiant, had been very active, trying his best to battle the awful comments. But even his attempts to defend Lydia couldn’t lift her mood.

An email notification pinged up on her phone, and Lydia immediately opened it. Her heart hammered as her eyes raked over the confirmation of her latest assignment – the wife who was being haunted by her dead, heartbroken husband - for which she and Betelgeuse had done their recent “training”. Lydia closed her eyes, not feeling ready to deal with another emotionally draining case, especially one with themes similar to the movie that she had watched with her business partner.

Her phone started ringing, making her jump. Robert’s name appeared on her screen, and Lydia groaned. She didn’t feel like speaking to him right now, but Robert could be very persistent, and she knew that if she didn’t answer, he would find some other way of reaching her.

She sighed and took the call, her stomach suddenly churning unpleasantly.

“Robert,” she greeted.

“Lydia,” came the producer’s voice. “I need you to come into the studio.”

The words came out slow, almost robotic. He sounded tired.

“It’s not the best time, Robert, I –”

“We need to talk about the next batch of assignments.”

“Just email them to me.”

“I think it’s better if you come into the studio, Lydia.”

Lydia opened her mouth to speak, but he hung up.

Sighing, she placed her phone in her pocket, grabbed her keys off the table and shouted up to Astrid, telling her that she had a meeting with Forrester before exiting the house.

***

The studio was cold. Far too cold. It was haunted, Lydia knew that. She had even made friends with a couple of the ghosts who hung around the storeroom. But this wasn’t just the usual cool air that she often felt when walking around the studio. This was something different. The chill was biting, nipping at her skin as she walked along the corridor to the room where the production team usually held their meetings.

The lights flickered.

Lydia pushed the door open and was greeted by Robert, who had his back to her. She glanced around. There was only her and Robert in the room, which was a little odd. Usually, Jeff would be present, and Lydia felt her stomach churn unpleasantly as she thought about the producer who she had known and trusted for so many years almost drugging her. She still couldn’t believe that he had tried to harm her.

“Lydia,” greeted Robert. Lydia watched as her producer and manager slowly turned around.

His hair looked even greyer than it had at the party, despite it only being a few days ago. His eyes were still black and lacked any warmth. He walked towards her slowly, and Lydia stepped back, suddenly feeling wary of him.

 “How’ve you been?” he asked, gesturing for her to take a seat. Lydia slowly sat down, suddenly wishing that Betelgeuse was there.

“It’s been difficult,” Lydia admitted. “Since the…”

“Since the party? I know. But Jeff’s gone now, you don’t need to worry about him harming you anymore.”

“I just don’t understand why he would do something like that. It...it doesn't make sense.”

“It’s a shocking thing to happen,” said Robert, shaking his head dramatically. “But like I said, he’s gone now. The police are dealing with him.”

“But they’ll need evidence,” said Lydia, her eyes widening as she spoke the words. Lydia hadn’t been around when the events had first unfolded, but Robert had told her, had told the entire room, that Betelgeuse had seen Jeff trying to slip something into her drink, and Betelgeuse had confirmed it.

Would that mean that the police would need to speak to her business partner? Lydia suddenly panicked, not wanting Betelgeuse to be at risk of being exposed. He had already taken a big risk going to the party and letting his real voice slip out a few times. Lydia still didn’t want Robert to find out that it was Betelgeuse who had been helping her with her assignments.

“He…the guy who accompanied me to the party…you said he saw it happen, that he saw Jeff putting something in my drink…”

“Don’t worry, your…friend…or whoever the hell he is…won’t need to get involved. I’ve told the police that I was the one who witnessed Jeff slipping the pills into your drink.”

“But –”

“Lydia, it’s fine. I’m taking care of it. You don’t need him getting involved. You’ve got me. I’m your hero, now. It’s just you and me now…”

He reached out and brushed Lydia’s cheek. Lydia jolted at the sudden movement. His hand was ice cold…

“I’m your manager,” Forrester said, his voice almost a purr. “I’ll take care of you. And I thought we’d start by discussing your outfit for the next batch of assignments.”

He pushed his chair back and reached across the table, his hands clasping a big black box.

“Since you won’t follow my advice about your outfits, I suggest a compromise…”

He pulled the lid off the box and pulled out a black dress. It was gothic. Pretty. Much more Lydia’s style than the silver dress he had wanted her to wear to the party. But the neckline was low. Very low.

Lydia swallowed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

“We need to keep the viewers coming in. Get them wanting to come back for more. So, I thought that we could have you showing a little bit more…skin.”

Lydia continued to study the dress, suddenly wanting to leave.

The lights flickered again, and the room was unbearably cold.

“I…”

“You don’t want to keep looking like that, do you?”

Forrester nodded at her dress.

“The collar on that thing is way too high. Did you see the photo on our Instagram page?”

“You mean the photo that I was left out of?” Lydia asked, glaring at him and folding her arms.

Robert sniggered.

“You were left out of it for a reason, Lydia. You saw Tiffany’s dress. How bright it was. How low it was. Look at the comments. Look how appealing people found it. Imagine how much the viewing figures would soar if you wore a dress like that.”

“I’m presenting this show to investigate ghosts, Robert. Not for people to stare at my chest.”

Forrester sat back in his chair and sighed.

“I’m just trying to help you. Your presenting work would get much more recognition if you changed your style. Showed those off a little bit more.”

He nodded at her chest.

Lydia closed her eyes, trying to ignore the biting chill in the air.

“I’m not wearing that dress,” she said firmly. “I –”

She was cut off by Robert slamming his hand down on the table. Lydia leaned back in her chair, her heart suddenly hammering hard against her chest. For a moment, there was silence and then…

A low growl escaped Robert’s throat.

The sound was almost inhuman.

Almost demonic.

“You’ll wear it,” he said. “I’m your manager, and you should listen to me, Lydia. I just want what’s best for you. Can’t you see that I’m trying to help? This…”

He held up the dress.

“This will be great promotion for the show. We can take a few photos. Get some billboards up. You’ll be like a modern-day Elvira.”

Lydia tried to steady her breathing as she stared into the producer’s black, pupilless eyes.

“And I really think it’s best, Lydia, if you don’t see that guy again. The one who accompanied you to the party. He’s frightful. Weird. Not good for you. You need someone in your life who will…look after you. Be good to you.”

“He is good to me,” snapped Lydia. “He was the only person who was nice to me at the party. I don’t think you should be telling me who I can and can’t hang around with. That’s none of your business.”

Robert leaned forward, and Lydia tried hard not to stare into those black, dead eyes.

“And I want you to shut down the Ghost House forum,” said Lydia, trying hard to remain assertive. She leaned back, desperately wanting to put more distance between herself and Robert, who was now nearly leaning right across the table.

“Or at least get better moderators on there,” she added.

“Why?”

“Haven’t you seen the comments? They’re rude and disrespectful.”

“That’s a good thing!” said Robert.

Lydia stared at him in disbelief.

“People are talking! That’s what we want.”

“Well, I don’t want it,” said Lydia, pushing herself out of her seat and standing up. “Just let me know when we start filming again.”

She turned to leave but suddenly felt a gush of wind hit her squarely in the back. She fell forward, but before she could hit the wall, two strong arms wrapped around her. Lydia felt herself being roughly turned around, and she watched as Forrester’s mouth curved into a sneer before the producer pushed her backward. Lydia cried out as her back hit the hard wall.

“You’re gonna wear that dress, sweetheart, whether you like it or not,” Robert said, his icy breath hitting her face. Lydia shivered. “You want good things to happen to you, don’t you? You want the show to be successful, don’t you?”

Lydia struggled against his grip.

“Don’t you?” Robert asked again, his voice now dangerously low.

Lydia nodded, wincing as his grip hardened.

She knew, at that moment, that she didn’t have a choice about anything related to the show anymore. She had no choice but to let Robert control her. If she didn’t, then the show would fail, and that would put Betelgeuse’s business at risk of failing. She couldn’t do that. She had to stick to their deal.

She couldn’t let her business partner down.

“Ok,” she said. The words came out in almost a whisper. “Ok, I’ll wear it.”

“Good girl,” said Robert, his black eyes flashing dangerously. “We make a great team, you and I.”

He stroked her face.

“I don’t want you to be unhappy, Lydia. Because when you’re feeling like this, it just makes me feel what you’re feeling. We’re connected now. I’m your manager. If you’re happy, I’m happy. And the only way you can be happy is for you to be liked. For people to see you. You want positive comments on that forum, don’t you?”

Lydia nodded weakly.

“Of course you do,” said Robert. “So, I’ll let you know when we’re filming the next assignment, and you make sure you wear this dress, ok?”

Lydia stared at him, no longer able to tear her eyes away from his face. His eyes suddenly flashed, briefly turning back to a warm brown before becoming black again. And then, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. Lydia tried to pull away, but it was like an invisible force was holding her still, holding her in place. He forced her lips open with his cool tongue, and ice-cold air filled her mouth, causing her to gasp.

And then, it felt like air was leaving her lungs. As though someone was sucking the life out of her. But as fleetingly as the feeling came, it disappeared, and Forrester moved away from her.

“Good girl,” he said again, his black eyes flashing. “Let’s have dinner. Tonight. Eight o’ clock?”

Lydia opened her mouth, wanting to say no, but instead, she agreed. Forrester’s cold hand brushed her cheek, and then, without uttering another word, he left the room.

And Lydia stood there, gasping.

What the hell had just happened? What had he done to her? Her heart hammered violently against her chest.

Shaking, she pushed herself away from the wall and slowly exited the room.

The lights flickered.

***

Lydia studied herself in the mirror, her stomach churning unpleasantly as she prepared for her dinner with Robert. He had texted her a venue. A fancy Italian restaurant in central Connecticut. Lydia wished, at that moment, that it was Betelgeuse she was having dinner with. She thought about his stories of his life in Italy and suddenly craved his company. She glanced at the small mirror on the table. The mirror that she usually touched to summon him. She wouldn’t be taking it with her tonight. She didn’t want to bother him.

The silence from him was suffocating her. Lydia was starting to wonder if he had been annoyed by her drunken behaviour after all. She felt as though he was avoiding her. Or perhaps he was just simply keeping himself busy with his bio-exorcist business. She hoped it was the latter.

She took one last look at herself in the mirror, hoping that her appearance wouldn’t displease Forrester. Then, she called goodbye to Astrid, who didn’t reply. Sighing, Lydia wrote a quick note, telling Astrid that she was having dinner with Forrester, before grabbing her car keys and exiting the house.

She wouldn’t be touching a single drop of alcohol during this dinner date, that was for sure.

***

“Let’s sell him the family special. I’ll possess the husband, scare the shit outta the wife and kids, and they’ll all go running outta the house.”

Betelgeuse stood in his office, giving out instructions to his skeleton workers. George was typing fast on his keyboard, making notes on Betelgeuse’s latest package deals for his clients.

He had been deliberately keeping himself busy over the past few days, trying to push visions of an intoxicated Lydia out of his mind. He wanted so badly to see her, to ask if she was ok, but he wasn’t sure how she would feel about the whole situation. About the fact that he had to carry her to the sofa.

Would she even remember?

His chest tightened painfully as he thought about Lydia waking up and thinking back to the events of the party, about her remembering that one of the producers, a guy who she thought she could trust, had tried to slip drugs into her drink. And not just any drug. Fucking roofies.

Betelgeuse didn’t trust any of the fuckers in that studio.

He wanted so badly to go and comfort her. But he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He couldn’t take that risk.

So, he had distanced himself. And Lydia would be fine with it, he knew that for sure. If she really wanted to speak to him, she would have summoned him.

He had tried to check on her using their psychic connection, but he had been so busy lately that he hadn’t had much spare time. The calls from clients were coming in thick and fast and he had barely had time to have much of a break. And whenever he did get a break, most of that break was spent defending Lydia on the forum.

He was about to tell George about his other package ideas when he felt himself being summoned. He slowly began to disappear, and within seconds, he had materialised in the attic of the Winter River house. But this time, it wasn’t Lydia standing in front of him. It was Astrid. He frowned. Where the hell was Lydia?

“Hey, kid,” he said, holding a hand up to greet the teenager. He looked around the attic, confused. “Did you summon me?”

Astrid nodded.

“I didn’t know how to at first, but then I remembered Mom telling me not to say your name three times because “really bad stuff is gonna happen.” Her words, not mine. That was before you saved me on Halloween, obviously. I think she’s grateful for it.”

Betelgeuse chuckled softly.

“I suppose I should say thanks too, so…thanks,” Astrid added. “I promise you won’t have to save me from any psychotic murdering ghost boys ever again.”

Betelgeuse tilted his head and gave her a small salute.

“No problem, kid. So, er, everything ok? Where’s your mom?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you. I thought I heard her shout up to me earlier on, but when I came down, she was already gone. I assumed she was off somewhere with you, filming an investigation or something. I tried texting and calling her, but there was no answer, so I thought I’d call you to see if she was with you.”

Betelgeuse shook his head.

“I’ve been er, busy,” he said. “Haven’t seen your mom since…”

“Since she was intoxicated?”

Betelgeuse nodded awkwardly.

“She said she had a meeting with…her producer, I think. Forrester or something? And she came home briefly before heading out again. Hang on, maybe she’s left a note.”

Astrid quickly left the room and ran downstairs. Betelgeuse teleported to the kitchen, appearing behind her, making her jump, and nearly causing her to drop the note that she was clutching.

“Jesus! Do you always do that?”

“Yep,” he said, grinning. “What’s the note say?”

“It says she’s having dinner with Forrester.”

Betelgeuse immediately stopped grinning. Dinner? Fucking dinner? With that fucker Forrester? Something wasn’t right. Betelgeuse clenched his fists, trying hard not to lose control. And then, the panic hit him. He knew there was something wrong with the guy, had sensed it at the party.

There’s no way this dinner thing was a date…was there? The thought caused a dangerous, unpleasant sensation to bubble around in Betelgeuse’s stomach.

“Dinner?” he finally managed to say, the words coming out strained. “She’s having dinner with him?”

Astrid nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but Betelgeuse didn’t give her a chance to say anything.

He immediately disappeared, leaving behind a thin wisp of smoke.

Chapter Text

Lydia scrunched her face up as she tried to read the small, italicised text on the menu under the restaurant’s dim lighting. She glanced around the room, observing the other couples at their tables. Each couple was oblivious to everyone else around them, immersed in intimate conversation. Waiters weaved between tables, carrying trays of meals described by the restaurant’s signage as authentic and “the best in town. "

Lydia’s stomach rumbled loudly as she watched a waiter place two delicious-looking pizzas on a nearby table. The waiter then walked away, leaving the couple to enjoy their meal as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

All around her sat couples in love, and Lydia felt that familiar ache. She shifted her gaze to Robert, whose face was scrunched up in concentration as he perused the menu.

The flickering flames of the candles in the middle of each table, along with the dim lighting and soft music, created the perfect romantic atmosphere, causing Lydia’s mood to worsen. She couldn’t understand why Forrester had chosen such an intimate setting to discuss assignments about dangerous spirits.

“We’ll order, and then we’ll discuss the upcoming assignments,” Robert said after a few minutes, closing his menu and placing it on the table. “You ready?”

Lydia nodded, and Robert gestured for a waiter to take their order. A tall, friendly-looking waiter approached them, beaming at them as he pulled a pad and pen from his pocket.

Lydia was about to give her order, but Robert cut her off.

“I’ll have the Panzanella salad,” he said. “And Lydia will have the green bean salad with the vinaigrette dressing. None of that full-fat crap.”

“Actually,” said Lydia, frowning at Robert, “I wanted the Neapolitan pizza.”

She glanced up at the waiter, smiling at him.

 “It says on your sign that it’s the best in town.”

“The very best,” said the waiter in a thick Italian accent.

Robert slowly shook his head.

“Oh Lydia,” he said. “Pizza is the worst choice when trying to watch your figure.”

“But I’m not trying to watch my figure.”

“But all those viewers will be watching it, won’t they?”

He glanced up at the waiter.

“She’s a television presenter,” he said, nodding at Lydia. “Needs to look her best for the camera.”

He chuckled, but the waiter didn’t respond and instead studied Lydia.

“Sei bello!” he said, holding his arms out expressively.

Lydia smiled politely, and the waiter, quickly picking up on the fact that she didn’t understand what he had said, gently took her hand.  

“The lady is beautiful! The pizza here is the best! Enjoyed by everyone!”

“Thanks, pal, but we’ll stick to the salads,” said Robert. “We need to keep in good shape. All part of being in the entertainment industry. No carbs after eight o’ clock.”

“The salad you’ve chosen has bread in it,” Lydia said, folding her arms and glaring at him.  

“I’m aware of that, but I can handle it. You, however, need to be careful. Just think about that silver dress, Lydia. It didn’t fit, did it?”

“It didn’t fit because you got the wrong size.”

Suddenly, Lydia felt the same biting chill that had followed her around the studio earlier that day, and Robert’s eyes flashed dangerously.  

“We’re having the salads,” he said firmly to the waiter, who shook his head but knew better than to argue. The waiter scribbled down their orders, promised that their food would be with them soon, and took their menus.  

Lydia’s stomach growled again, and she sighed as she watched a couple at a nearby table giggling and feeding each other slices of pizza. She fiddled with her napkin as she thought about her green bean salad, wishing, not for the first time that evening, that she could just go home.

“How’s your water?” Robert asked, as he set his glass of sparkling water down.

Lydia rolled her eyes and stared down at her glass of water. She still wanted to avoid alcohol after getting drunk at the party, but water hadn’t been her first choice. Instead, she had hoped to try one of the restaurant’s special non-alcoholic cocktails, but Robert had insisted she stick with water because it was “much better for her skin.”

“The water is fine,” said Lydia, pushing her glass away from her.  

“We need you looking your best if you want those comments to be positive. Gotta keep that skin looking nice and clear.”

Lydia wanted to argue that she had always had clear skin and therefore didn’t need to increase her water intake, but as her gaze shifted from the glass to Robert’s black eyes, she decided not to. She shivered as the chilly air nipped at her skin and glanced around, wondering if anyone else could feel it. But everyone else seemed oblivious to it.

“So,” said Robert, leaning forward. “We’ve had a couple more applications, and this time, we’re looking at some very nasty spirits. This is gonna really get the ratings up. I just know it. Especially if you wear that low-cut dress.”

Lydia was about to respond when a scraping noise cut her off. She glanced down at her glass of water, which was slowly moving across the table. Frowning, Lydia looked up at Robert, who hadn’t noticed. His phone bleeped, and he pulled the device out of his pocket and started typing out a text message. Lydia tried to grab the glass, but it moved out of her reach. The air immediately became colder, if that was possible, and she shivered again. Water slopped onto the table as the glass moved closer and closer to the edge. Lydia quickly tried to mop it up with a napkin and then, still frowning, glanced up at Robert, who was still busy texting.

Then, without warning, the glass flew off the table and landed on the floor with a loud smash. The intimate conversations immediately died, and all eyes fell on the source of the noise. Lydia blushed as she stared at the broken glass and puddle of water on the floor, and Robert’s gaze immediately shifted from his phone to the mess beside her feet.

“Oh Lydia,” he said, sounding irritable. “You really should be more careful.”

“It wasn’t…”

Lydia’s voice trailed off as she stared at the broken glass, frowning. She hadn’t even touched the glass, so what had caused it to fall off the table? She looked up at Forrester, who resumed typing on his phone.

The lights flickered again.

And Lydia felt an invisible force rush past her. The restaurant’s kitchen doors flew open, but no one had walked through them. Then, as quickly as they had opened, they slammed shut. Several people turned to look at the doors, frowning, but quickly returned to their conversations. Lydia glanced around the room, her heart suddenly hammering, wondering if the restaurant was haunted.

A passing waiter glanced down at the water and the shards of glass, stopping in his tracks as he did so, and Lydia muttered an apology. He disappeared into the kitchen and swiftly reappeared with a dustpan and brush, closely followed by the waiter who had taken their order, who was now clutching two plates of food. He set the plates down on the table, glanced at his colleague, who was hurriedly cleaning up the mess, and told Lydia, in his heavy accent, not to worry about it. Then, he disappeared into the kitchen and returned just a few moments later with a fruity-looking drink.

“Gratuitamente!” he said in a cheery voice as he set the glass down.

Lydia stared at the drink. It was the non-alcoholic cocktail that she had considered choosing earlier on.

“I..but...”

“All for you! Enjoy your meals!”

Lydia watched, wide-eyed, as the waiter walked away. How, she wondered, had he known which drink she had initially thought about ordering before Robert had demanded that she have water?

“What the hell was that all about?” said Robert, who had put his phone away and was now glaring at the doors through which the two waiters had just disappeared.

“You break a glass, and they reward you with a free drink? What the hell?”

“I didn’t break it,” said Lydia, still staring at her drink. Forrester rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Lydia. Who else could have broken it? And I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.”

He nodded at the non-alcoholic cocktail.

“Remember what I said. You should stick to water. Better for the skin. Less calories, too.”

Lydia glanced up at him, then back down at the drink. Then, as though an invisible force was pushing her arm forward, she reached out and grabbed the glass, bringing the black and white straw to her lips. As the delicious fruity liquid entered her mouth, Lydia almost let out a groan. She looked up to see Forrester staring, his black eyes narrowed, and gently set the glass back down on the table.

“I don’t like it when you defy me, Lydia.”

Lydia frowned at the glass and was about to explain that it felt like something had forced her to pick up the drink when her stomach grumbled loudly again.

“Let’s just eat,” she said, picking up her fork and stabbing a green bean. She was about to place it in her mouth when she glanced down at her plate and almost dropped her fork.

There, nestled amongst the salad leaves and beans, was a bug.

A black and white striped bug.

Lydia’s eyes widened.

It couldn’t be Betelgeuse, could it? She hadn’t summoned him.

But the bug sat there, its tiny blue eyes looking up at her.

It had to be him. It looked exactly the same as the bug that he had transformed into just a few weeks ago during the assignment with the poltergeist.

“What’s wrong now?” asked Robert irritably, noticing Lydia’s expression. He leaned forward, and Lydia tried desperately to push a salad leaf over the tiny bug, but she wasn’t fast enough.

Forrester’s eyes widened as he examined her plate of salad.

“What the…”

A waiter walked by, and Robert snapped his fingers loudly.

“There’s a bug in her salad! We’ll need a replacement.”

Lydia, still staring at the bug, tried to mutter that it was fine, but the waiter quickly took her plate and rushed through the kitchen doors. Heart hammering, Lydia leaned back in her chair.

He must have known. The broken glass, the invisible force, the feeling of something or someone in the air. He must have known that she was with Forrester. But how could he? She hadn’t summoned him. Hadn’t spoken to him since he had helped her in her drunken state.

Was this the psychic connection that he kept speaking of? Could he somehow see what was happening?

A noise interrupted her thoughts, and her eyes widened as their waiter appeared at their table, a large tray of Neapolitan pizza balanced on his hand. He set the pizza down, and the delicious scent of tomatoes and cheese immediately hit Lydia’s nostrils.

“All for you!” the waiter said.

“There’s been a mistake,” snapped Robert. “She had the green bean salad with the vinaigrette dressing.”

The waiter didn’t respond, instead bowing at Lydia and disappearing into the kitchen again. Forrester looked livid.

“I’ll be leaving a complaint about this place!” he growled.

But Lydia wasn’t listening. The same invisible force from earlier lifted her arm and pushed it towards the pizza. She took a slice and bit into it, closing her eyes and almost humming in contentment as the flavours hit her tongue.

“I’ll be putting a diet regime in place as soon as we start filming again,” said Forrester, stabbing his salad aggressively and scowling as he watched Lydia enjoying her pizza.

Lydia didn’t answer. She was far too busy savouring the burst of flavours in her mouth. She glanced down at her plate and noticed that the tiny bug was back again, this time nestled underneath a slice of pizza. There was a small crunching sound, and Lydia watched, eyes wide, as a tiny bite mark appeared in one of the slices of pizza. Seconds later, a loud belch emitted from the bug. She glanced up at Robert, who was frowning at her.

“Did you just burp?” he asked, looking disgusted. “In public? That’s…really not good, Lydia. Looks like we need to work on your manners in addition to your dress sense and your clumsiness. You’ve let me down tonight.”

“I…”

But Forrester didn’t let her speak, instead gesturing loudly for a waiter to come over so that he could pay for his meal. Lydia glanced down at her plate. The bug was gone. She sat back in her chair, sighing in contentment. The food and drink had lifted her mood, but before she had time to think about the strange events of the evening, she suddenly felt herself being pulled out of her seat.

“Let’s go,” snapped Robert, his eyes flashing dangerously as he tugged on Lydia’s sleeve. They exited the building, and the cool night air hit her face. Still feeling pleasantly full from her meal, she opened her mouth to tell Forrester that she would be getting a cab back home, but she felt herself being pulled into a nearby alleyway.

Lydia let out a cry of shock as Forrester slammed her against the wall. His large hands grasped the collar of her dress tightly, and he leaned in close. Lydia was unable to see his features clearly in the darkened alley, but she could feel his icy breath on her face.

“You’ve made me very unhappy tonight, Lydia. And that’s really not a good thing to do, because if I’m unhappy, it means that you’ll end up feeling unhappy. Don’t you want me to be happy, Lydia? Don’t you want us to be connected?”

Lydia wanted to explain that the broken glass and the incident with the salad were not her fault, but she found herself unable to speak. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Forrester leaned forward and pressed his mouth against hers.

And Lydia felt the breath being sucked out of her. She tried to fight it, but Forrester was gripping her tightly. His too-long tongue was almost suffocating her, causing her to retch.

Then, suddenly, his mouth was ripped away from hers as an invisible force pulled him backwards. Lydia watched as Forrester’s head jerked backward as though something or someone had punched him. He glanced up at Lydia, his eyes wide, and brought a hand up to his nostril, where a trickle of blood had formed.

“What the…”

A nearby streetlamp flickered.

Forrester let out a growl of frustration.

“We start filming next week,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Just remember what I said, Lydia. We’re a team. We need to be happy. We need to be connected. Don’t disappoint me again.”

And then he disappeared around the corner, leaving Lydia in the alleyway. Her heart hammered violently against her chest as she tried to catch her breath. She could still feel his coolness in her mouth, where his tongue had been moments ago. She pushed herself away from the wall, her legs suddenly feeling weak, and walked back out onto the street. There was no sign of Forrester.

He seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

Then, she glanced in the direction of the restaurant’s entrance and saw a familiar figure leaning casually against the wall, right next to the sign that promised authentic food that was the best in town.

Lydia’s eyes widened as they raked over Betelgeuse’s body. The ghost was wearing the same pinstriped suit as the one he had worn at the party. His usually messy hair was brushed back, and Lydia could see his belly poking through the gaps between the buttons of his too tight shirt. She watched as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with his thumb before taking a long drag. Then, as he blew out the smoke, he placed his other hand in his pocket and leaned back against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut.

And Lydia couldn’t help but stare. He looked so goddamn…casual. So nonchalant.

Lydia approached him, her heart rate suddenly increasing. She tried desperately to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, which had instantly appeared upon seeing him lighting that cigarette and leaning casually against the wall. And his mouth curved upwards into that goddamn lop-sided grin as he opened his eyes and noticed her approaching him.

“Well,” he said, nodding at the sign advertising authentic food. “They ain’t lyin.’ Best pizza I’ve tasted in ages.”

Lydia folded her arms.

“How did you know? I didn’t summon you. How did you know where I was?”

“Your daughter called me. Said you were on a date with that fucker Forrester.”

“It wasn’t a date.”

Betelgeuse let out a soft chuckle.

“Maybe not for you. Did you like the drink and the pizza?”

“How did you know?” asked Lydia again. “How did you know what drink I wanted? I never even told the waiter. How did the waiter know? How do you always know things about me?”

“Psychic connection,” her business partner replied, tapping his head.

She should have been grateful. She should have been happy that his actions that evening had enabled her to have the food and drink that she wanted. Had saved her from Forrester’s controlling behaviour. She should be grateful that he had pulled Forrester away from her while he was kissing her, sucking the life out of her.

And Lydia was grateful. But she also felt mildly irritated. Forrester’s controlling behaviour was suffocating her, and she was also having to deal with a business partner who seemed to know her every move. There was, without a doubt, something endearing about it all. Betelgeuse had, yet again, made her evening much better.

He had saved her.

It was becoming a regular habit of his.

But Lydia was tired. Tired of being controlled by Forrester, tired of having her every move monitored by Betelgeuse. And the fact that her business partner had not spoken to her since the night of the party still stung. He had offered no explanation for his absence since that night. Instead, he had simply turned up tonight, just like he always did, with no warning. Watching her. Saving her.

“I can handle Forrester,” Lydia said, trying to keep her voice steady. Trying to ignore the strange sensation in her stomach as her eyes raked over his sharp features.

Betelgeuse took another drag of his cigarette and exhaled before chuckling again.

“Didn’t look like that earlier, Lyds. Looked like the fucker was tryin’ to assault you.”

“I would have handled it,” said Lydia, folding her arms. “I won’t let him control me.”

Her business partner shook his head before responding.

“But he will control you. Just like that fucker Rory did.”

Lydia stepped closer to him, trying to ignore the strangely pleasant woody scent that surrounded him, which mingled with the scent of cigarette smoke.

“I haven’t seen you in days. Haven’t even heard from you. And you just show up here tonight, without me even summoning you, treating me like I’m incapable of dealing with Robert on my own. I don’t need protecting. I’m fine.”

“He’s dangerous, Lydia. Not sure what else he has to do to you for you to realise it.”

“He’s been acting weirdly, there’s no doubt about that,” said Lydia. “But…but he did expose Jeff.”

Betelgeuse tried to argue, but Lydia cut him off.

“Let’s just stick to the deal,” she said firmly. “Just help each other with our jobs like we agreed, and leave it at that. My personal life is out of bounds. I can handle Robert. I don’t need your interference. I’m fine.”

The ghost looked at her for a few seconds before throwing his cigarette away.

“Fine,” he said.

And before she could respond, he clicked his fingers and disappeared.

Lydia closed her eyes, feelings of guilt immediately crushing her.

And as she stood there, thinking about him, about his oddly endearing personality, his striking appearance and the way he had looked when he was casually smoking that damn cigarette, she couldn’t help but feel scared.

Scared that her actions of pushing him away had little to do with her wanting him to stay out of her personal life and a lot to do with the fact that it was becoming harder for her to ignore the feelings that were slowly developing.

She had no choice but to push him away. She had to stick to their deal.

Chapter Text

Betelgeuse drummed his fingers on his desk as he watched his skeleton workers typing away on their computers. He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face, Lydia’s words still circling his brain.

“I don’t need your interference. I’m fine.”

The ghost clenched his fists as he thought of Robert slamming Lydia against the wall and how much he had enjoyed pulling the fucker away from her and punching him in the face.

Betelgeuse wasn’t stupid. He knew there was something wrong with Forrester. And it was damn frustrating to see him treating Lydia disrespectfully, just like Rory had. The ghost had tried, without even showing himself in the restaurant, to make Lydia’s dinner date better for her.

But she had reacted angrily to his interference.

Her words had hurt. And Betelgeuse wasn’t a guy who was easily hurt. But what the hell was he supposed to do? There was no way he could just let Lydia be treated like that again. He had to protect her. It was like a compulsion. He wanted, needed, to keep her safe.

He was becoming used to not getting any acknowledgement for his help. He should have been angry. The Betelgeuse from years ago definitely would have been. He would have said a massive “fuck you” to anyone who didn’t thank him for helping them. Would have refused to work with them ever again.

But the truth was, he wasn’t that Betelgeuse anymore.

Back then, he had been selfish and chaotic, a mischievous ghost who would always expect something in return for his hard work. He wouldn’t hesitate to make a deal. Part of him still loved making deals. But now, he was a ghost in love. He loved Lydia, and no matter how many times he did something for her, no matter how many times she didn’t thank him or didn’t even acknowledge what he had done for her, he would still love her.  

He had kept Lydia safe for years, saved her kid, got rid of her dirtbag fiancé, and tried to keep her safe from Forrester. And no matter how many times she told him not to interfere, Betelgeuse wasn’t going to listen. He would continue keeping her safe. He would continue protecting her.

He pulled out his phone and accessed the Ghost House forum.

Let’s see what fuckers we’re dealing with today, he thought to himself as he scrolled through the latest influx of nasty posts about Lydia. He quickly started typing out replies, shutting down any negative remarks about the love of his afterlife.

A noise made him look up, and he saw George standing there holding out a sheet of paper. Betelgeuse sighed and took it, his eyes raking over the details of his next bio-exorcist job.

“It ain’t easy bein’ in love, George, I’ll tell ya that. I just wanna keep the love of my afterlife safe. Is that a bad thing?”

George was silent for a few seconds before shaking his head, and Betelgeuse let out a heavy sigh. It was moments like these, moments when he needed a friend, that he missed Bob. But then, in a surprising move, George reached out and placed his hand on his boss’s shoulder, before gently patting it. Betelgeuse glanced up at the skeleton’s expressionless face and smiled in appreciation. George walked away, and Betelgeuse resumed typing on his phone.

He wouldn’t give up protecting Lydia, but this time, he would wait patiently for her to summon him.

He had all the time in the world.

***

Lydia’s stomach churned unpleasantly as her eyes raked over the details of the next assignment in the email attachment on her phone. The day had finally arrived, and as she looked over the details of what she was about to deal with, Lydia couldn’t help but feel nervous. She had seen the movie “Ghost” many times before she had watched it with Betelgeuse. Romance movies, especially ones without gothic elements, were not usually Lydia’s type of movie. But because “Ghost” was a movie about a ghost and featured a character who shared her ability to communicate with them, she had always been enraptured by the storyline.

And Lydia knew, after watching the movie so many times, that she would be taking a huge risk today. One that, despite her deal with her business partner, she did not want anyone to interfere with. She had read enough about possessions to know what they entailed. She had, recently, seen one in action during the assignment with Kate and her husband. But she had never, in all the times she had communicated with ghosts, been possessed by one.

But Lydia had decided that today was going to be the very first time that she was going to allow herself to experience it. The woman who had applied to make a guest appearance on Ghost House wanted Lydia to help her communicate with her dead husband, whom, according to the details provided by the woman in her application, sounded heartbroken.

This was very much a case of the spirit being unable to move on. Unlike Kate’s husband, who had been full of anger that his wife had refused to join him in death, this spirit was gentle. His wife couldn’t see him, but she had told the Ghost House producers that she believed her husband's spirit was in their home and that she, like her dead husband, couldn’t move on until she had found a way to communicate with him.

I want to feel him, the woman had written in her application. I don’t want a psychic mediator coming into my home and simply passing on messages from him. I want to be able to touch him. I want to hear his voice. I can’t move on until we’ve communicated with each other properly, and I know that he feels the same. Please help me to connect with him.

As Lydia’s eyes raked over these words, she knew she didn’t have a choice. She had to let the spirit take over her body.

She had to be its puppet.

She had heard about the risks of possession. She knew that there was a huge risk of the experience affecting her memory and her mood. But she was prepared to do it. These assignments were all about testing her abilities. And this time, she wasn’t going to let anyone interfere.

Her business partner could, of course, be present. It was part of their deal that Betelgeuse had to accompany her to every assignment.

But he had to let her deal with this herself.

And as she pocketed her phone and uttered his name, Lydia was determined to give the wife and her dead husband the closure that they needed without his help.

***

Betelgeuse paced his office, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Possession.

Fucking possession.

Just hours ago, he had made a promise to himself to always keep Lydia safe, despite her frustration at his interference. And now she had just contacted him and told him that she was going to allow herself to be possessed. To have her body completely taken over by a ghost.

And she had banned him from getting involved.

He grimaced as he thought back to the conversation they had just had.

“You can be there to watch, but you can’t intervene,” Lydia had said.

“But –”

“I have to do this.”

“Lydia, we’re talkin’ about you being possessed. It ain’t an easy thing to go through. You saw how it affected Kate.”

“That was different. Kate’s husband wasn’t a nice spirit. This spirit is heartbroken. They’re just a wife and husband who want closure.”

“This ain’t like the movie we watched, Lydia. This is real life. You’re takin’ a huge risk. I don’t think you can cope with –”

“Don’t you dare say I can’t cope! I already told you, I want to take on these assignments to give myself a challenge. I’m doing this.”

Betelgeuse had continued to argue, but Lydia had banished him. And now here he was, pacing his office, about to face one of the biggest challenges of his afterlife. He was going to be forced to watch his business partner, the woman he loved, taking a huge risk, and she didn’t want him to help her.

He didn’t want her to take such a big risk, but he also didn’t want to put their business partnership at risk and make her so angry that she would end up, not for the first time, pulling out of their deal.

It was so hard. Just so damn hard.

He took a deep breath before teleporting to the location of the assignment.

***

The apartment was spotless, with very little furniture. Betelgeuse wasn’t sure if it had been that way before the man’s death or whether his wife had chosen to live that way because of the emptiness that she was feeling after losing him. Whichever one it was, the living conditions were nothing short of depressing.

He watched, invisible in a corner of the room, as Lydia addressed the camera and gently clasped the hand of Maria, the lady who had asked for her help.

He could see Maria’s husband, Samuel, hunched over in a corner over the other side of the room and the poor fucker looked heartbroken. Crushed. Samuel’s eyes followed his wife’s every move, and occasionally he would reach out his hand, as though he wanted to touch her, but then quickly pull it back, his face full of defeat. His eyes were so full of longing, and Betelgeuse had never, in all his six hundred years in the afterlife, felt so sorry for someone. The poor guy looked lovesick and heartbroken at the woman he loved being out of his reach, at her not noticing him.

Betelgeuse was no stranger to such feelings. He knew what it felt like to love someone and for them to be so out of his reach. For thirty-six years, Lydia had ignored him, and he had worked hard to get her to notice him again. Even during all those years he had secretly helped her with her investigations on Ghost House, she still hadn’t noticed him. And as he watched this poor spirit looking at his wife longingly, he felt lucky that, unlike Samuel, he was at least finally able to communicate with Lydia again and give her those visions of himself.

He couldn’t help but smile as he thought about the time, just a few weeks ago, when he had successfully given Lydia a vision of himself sitting in the audience of Ghost House, stuffing popcorn in his mouth. Admittedly, she had looked terrified when she had seen him, but hey, at least she had finally noticed him. For him, it had been a huge win. A moment that had given him a tingle.

He watched as Lydia gently explained to Maria what she was going to do.

“I’m going to let Samuel possess me,” she said, nodding at the empty corner where Samuel was hunched over. Betelgeuse watched as the spirit’s face lit up, his morose expression suddenly morphing into one of pure happiness at being given the opportunity to finally speak to his wife. Then, Lydia walked over to Samuel and began to speak gently to the spirit.

The way she spoke to ghosts was just so…gentle. So respectful. So perfect.

Every time she did these assignments, she would say or do something that would make Betelgeuse fall in love with her all over again. He closed his eyes, his chest aching painfully, trying desperately not to show himself and pull her way from the huge risk she was about to take. He watched as she seated herself on a sofa opposite Maria and straightened up. Then, she nodded, giving Samuel permission to use her to communicate with his living wife.

“A-are you sure about this?” Samuel asked, his voice strained.

Well, at least the guy had the decency to ask. Betelgeuse had to give him credit for that.

“I’m sure,” said Lydia, a determined look on her face.

And Betelgeuse couldn’t do anything but watch as the ghost slowly entered her body. The scene was so similar to the one in the movie “Ghost” that Betelgeuse half expected “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers to start playing.

Samuel was a gentle spirit, that much was true. It was much better than a demonic possession. But something unpleasant bubbled in Betelgeuse’s stomach as he watched the ghost enter Lydia’s body.

It was just so…intimate.

He watched as Lydia reached forward and took Maria’s hands in hers, clasping them tightly. Then she spoke, but instead of her own voice sounding from her mouth, it was Samuel’s deep voice. Betelgeuse listened as the spirit was finally able to communicate with his wife, who was now a sobbing wreck, and at that moment, much like Lydia had done with the previous assignments, he wondered why some people chose to have such intimate moments televised.

He stole a glance at Andy the cameraman, who was watching the whole thing with his mouth wide open. And he shook his head as he thought about all those nasty fuckers on the Ghost House forum who would be watching Lydia being possessed when the episode was finally televised.

This was all just a form of entertainment for some people.

And yet here Lydia was, putting herself in the firing line, simply wanting to help Maria and her dead husband to connect again.

It warmed his dead heart.

But as the possession went on, his concerns grew. Maria and Samuel were clearly elated to be able to speak to each other again, but Betelgeuse couldn’t help but worry about what effect this would have on Lydia. Long possessions could be dangerous, and Betelgeuse bit his tongue, not wanting to interfere but also wanting desperately to pull the ghost out of Lydia’s body.

“If I could do this every day, I would,” Samuel said through Lydia’s mouth as her hands stroked Maria’s. “Maybe we could make it a regular thing? I can’t leave you…”

Don’t intervene, Geuse, don’t fucking intervene. Lydia wants this, don’t fuck it up for her.

He slammed his hands over his ears, not wanting to hear Samuel telling Maria that he wanted to keep on using Lydia’s body. Not wanting to think about the drain it was going to have on Lydia when the spirit finally left her. And when he did, thirty minutes later, Lydia slumped forward, her arms floppy as though all the energy had been sucked out of her. Andy rushed to help her but Betelgeuse beat him to it, his invisible presence lifting her back up into her seat. Maria was wiping her eyes, too overwhelmed at the communication with Samuel’s ghost to notice the effect that the lengthy possession had had on Lydia.

Lydia’s eyes fluttered open, and she weakly held up a hand to signal to Andy that she was ok. But Betelgeuse could tell that she wasn’t.

And no matter how much she had begged him not to intervene, he was determined to help her in the aftermath of her selfless act.

***

The room was spinning. It felt like a repeat of the night of the party, only this time, Lydia was not drunk. She was aware of the very solid form of her business partner helping her to walk over to the sofa, aware of him speaking to her, but his gravelly voice seemed distant. She felt herself being gently lowered onto the sofa and pulled into a sitting position.

“Dammit, Lydia,” Betelgeuse growled. “I get your determination, but this was just damn risky.”

Lydia grunted in response, too exhausted to even speak.

“You’re gonna need several days to recover from this,” she heard him say. “No more assignments until you’ve had a rest. Ya hear me?”

Lydia nodded slowly.

The ghost turned to leave, but she reached out and grabbed his arm. She gently tugged on it and pulled him down next to her. Such an action was possibly inappropriate and went against all the rules of the contract, but at that moment, she did not care. She just wanted, in her moment of exhaustion, to feel him sitting next to her. To feel his solid form next to her.

“Thank you,” she managed to murmur. “Thank you for not stopping me from doing that today. I…”

“Just rest. I’m gonna leave you alone now. I –”

Lydia held her hand up, cutting him off. But she didn’t speak. Instead, she just sat there, enjoying the feel of him next to her in her exhausted state. Enjoying the comforting scent of gave dirt and moss, a scent that so many other people would probably dislike.

She was fighting sleep, trying desperately to keep her eyes open and trying desperately not to lean on her business partner.

But that fight was soon lost, and there was nothing she could do to stop it as she rested her head on Betelgeuse’s shoulder and entered a much-needed deep sleep.

Chapter Text

Lydia wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep, but the large number of missed calls, texts and emails from Robert told her it must have been for a long time. She winced as she sat up and noticed that the black and white blanket had been placed over her again.

She immediately started to panic.

Images of Betelgeuse quickly entered her head. Images of him helping her to the sofa, just like he had on the night of the celebration party when she had been drunk.

Images of her reaching up and pulling him down next to her.

Images of her laying her head on his shoulder and falling asleep on him.

Oh god.

Lydia’s eyes widened in horror, and she felt her face flush in embarrassment. She looked up to see Astrid entering the room, a huge grin plastered on her face.

“So, you’re finally awake.”

“How long have I been out?”

“A couple of days.”

“What!”

“I was gonna call for help, but your…business partner…told me that it was totally normal and that you just needed plenty of rest.”

Lydia winced again as she stretched her legs out.

“You fell asleep on him.”

Astrid was grinning again, and Lydia glared at her.

“I’m aware of that, thanks,” she snapped.

“He took care of you…again.”

“I know.”

Lydia sighed and placed her head in her hands. Allowing herself to be possessed had taken its toll on her body, not only physically but also mentally. She closed her eyes as an overwhelming feeling of sadness hit her. She felt physically and mentally exhausted.

And the thought of how comfortable she had felt when she had placed her head on Betelgeuse's shoulder was not helping matters.

She had taken a huge risk. Not only with her safety, but also with the contract. She had risked their partnership, almost broken the rules. Rules that she herself had demanded be part of their deal.

“What happened after I…fell asleep?” she asked Astrid, her words strained, her face flushing in embarrassment again as she waited to find out how Betelgeuse had reacted to her laying her head on his shoulder. She could see that Astrid was struggling to suppress a grin and for some reason, this added to her embarrassment.

“Not much. I walked in and saw him gently lifting you off him and covering you up with that blanket. You were in such a deep sleep, it honestly looked like you were dead. For a minute, I thought he had given in to his desire to be with you and killed you so that you could join him in the afterlife or something, but he reassured me that you were fine.”

“Given in to his desire? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Mom, it’s obvious how he feels about you.”

“I’m not discussing this, Astrid. I’ve already told you, we’re business partners, nothing more. He just did a decent thing for me, that’s all.”

“He’s always doing decent things for you…”

Lydia sighed and stood up too quickly. The room began to spin, and she stumbled, almost tumbling back onto the sofa, but Astrid quickly stood up and steadied her.

“Looks like you still need to rest.”

“No,” said Lydia, batting the teenager's hand away. “I need to check my messages.”

“I still don’t know why you’re putting yourself through this,” Astrid said, nodding at the phone in Lydia’s hand. “And don’t give me any bullshit about testing your abilities. You were out cold for two days, Mom. Betel…he...said you had taken a dangerous risk…”

“I’ve already discussed this. I need this. This…this will be good for me. I helped a ghost properly reconnect with his living wife for the first time ever, Astrid. I just want to help these spirits, to help the living people who don’t have the ability to communicate with the dead like we do.”

“Is it worth it if it makes you feel like this, though?”

Lydia closed her eyes and thought about Astrid’s words. Was it worth it? Lydia quickly decided that, despite how she was feeling right now, despite the exhaustion and the strange low mood, it was all worth it.

She thought of her relationship with the Maitlands again and how lucky she had been to be able to connect with the young ghost couple. They had successfully lived in peace together in the same house, and while Lydia understood that it was not always possible for some ghosts and living people to have such a relationship, she was determined to at least try to give them the peaceful connection that she had shared with Adam and Barbara. To help the living understand that not all ghosts were evil spirits and that the ones who were, were simply ones who had been forgotten about, like the poor poltergeist she had tried to help.

Her exhaustion and low mood were worth it because she had given Maria and Samuel the closure that they had needed. By allowing Samuel to possess her, she had helped them to have a proper conversation with each other. For her, it was not only a career milestone but also a personal one. Her aching limbs, feelings of sadness and her exhausted state should have been a warning to her to never take such a risk again, but Lydia was craving more. She wanted to keep on helping heartbroken spirits and wanted to help the dead and the living co-exist.

“It's worth it,” she finally said, scrolling through the unread messages on her phone. Astrid was about to respond when Lydia’s phone started ringing. Gesturing to her daughter that she could handle it, Lydia took the call. Astrid rolled her eyes and exited the room as Robert’s voice sounded in Lydia’s ear.

“Lydia? Where the hell have you been? Why haven’t you been answering your calls?”

“Sorry, Robert. I –” Lydia said.

“We’re recording the studio segment today. Maria is due to come in so that you can discuss the investigation. Andy’s footage was amazing. He captured your possession! The whole thing! The audience are gonna love this!”

“Robert, I’m still a little tired. I –”

“Be at the studio in the next hour. And wear that dress. The very low-cut one.”

Before Lydia could answer, Forrester hung up.

He hadn’t even asked her how she was feeling. Hadn’t even seemed the slightest bit concerned about her well-being after such a risky investigation. Lydia’s thoughts flicked back to her business partner again. She really should call him. Thank him. But her embarrassment was stopping her from doing so. Just like it had stopped her from doing so the day after he had helped her in her drunken state.

Lydia sighed and, with great difficulty, pushed herself off the sofa, her legs almost buckling underneath her as she did so. She still felt weak and tired, but she knew that she had no choice but to put on the dress and go into the studio.

It was going to be a long, tiring day.

***

The episode was, as Robert predicted, a success. Almost too much of a success. Lydia’s eyes widened as they raked over the latest influx of comments on the forum. Her hard work had certainly paid off. Instead of the usual negative comments, people were mostly praising her for allowing a ghost to possess her.

And they wanted more.

Lydia knew that she shouldn’t take the risk again, but her heart was thumping with excitement at the thought of doing it again. Achieving this milestone of finally enabling a spirit to not only speak to his living loved one but also to touch her, had resulted in Lydia gaining a newfound popularity.

The audience had loved it, and the episode had even resulted in a new thread being dedicated to her on the forum.

The Lydia Deetz Appreciation Thread.

Lydia had blinked in surprise at the name of the thread, half expecting her number one fan, RedSupergiant, to be the one who had posted it. But upon closer inspection, Lydia had noticed that it was someone else. And within a day of the episode airing, the thread had garnered over 1,000 replies. For her, this was a major achievement. Finally, after years of presenting Ghost House, she was gaining proper respect and recognition. There were still a few negative comments, but Lydia had come to realise that there would always be people who were critical of her appearance.

Annoyingly, Robert had been right about the low-cut dress. Lydia’s face flushed as she scrolled through the comments about the outfit, with many showing their appreciation of her cleavage.

Strangely, RedSupergiant seemed annoyed with the positive comments.

Lydia looked amazing in the latest episode, one person had posted in the appreciation thread. That dress is an improvement.

A winking face emoji accompanied the comment. And beneath the comment, was RedSupergiant’s reply.

Yeah, because it’s all about the cleavage. Forget the fact that she allowed herself to be fucking possessed. All we should care about is how much cleavage she’s showing. In case you didn’t know, her manager forced her to wear it. He’s just as bad as all of you fuckers who are drooling over her.

Lydia frowned at the response. While she understood that he was angry at people for choosing to focus on what she had been wearing rather than the huge risk she had taken, the anger had seemed to come out of nowhere. For weeks, this person had been defending her, and now that she was receiving positive comments, RedSupergiant seemed irritable about it. And how the hell had this person known that Robert had wanted her to wear the low-cut dress?

Astrid entered the room, but Lydia didn’t look up, instead still frowning at her phone.

“What’s wrong now?” the teenager asked, sitting down next to Lydia at the kitchen island. Lydia handed her daughter the phone.

“I’ve got a fan,” she said. “This person has been defending me for weeks on the forum, and now that people are posting positive comments about my recent…attire…he…or she…whoever the hell it is…is getting angry about it. I think it’s a man. The person writes like a man. Their tone seems familiar to me, but…I…I’m just so confused right now.”

Astrid’s eyes raked over the comments, and then, after a few seconds, she spoke.

“RedSupergiant…” the teenager muttered, the words almost coming out in a whisper.

She repeated the word, and her eyes widened, before she clamped a hand over her mouth to suppress a snort of laughter.

“What?” Lydia asked, her tone almost defensive. “What is it?”

Astrid shook her head, now grinning widely.

“Redsupergiant. Oh mom…”

“What? For god’s sake, Astrid! What are you grinning about? What is it?”

Astrid handed the phone back to Lydia and stood up, still shaking her head and grinning.

“Trust me,” she said, as she started to walk away. “You don’t want to know.”

***

“This is gonna make me big, Lydia,” Robert was saying as his eyes raked over the details of the next assignment. “We’ve got people requesting possessions! Actual possessions!”

Lydia frowned at him.

“Make you big? Don’t you mean make the show big?”

Robert cleared his throat.

“Of course,” he said, his tone immediately becoming softer, though Lydia could tell it was forced. “You know I just want what’s best for you, Lydia. Remember, when you’re happy, I’m happy.”

He reached forward and grabbed her hands. Lydia tried to pull away, but his grip was firm. She looked him straight in the eyes. They were still black, almost pupilless. His hands were ice-cold.

“Wear the dress again,” he said. “You’ve gained much popularity, just like I said you would. I’m always right, aren’t I?”

Lydia smiled weakly in response.

“Aren’t you glad to have me as your manager, Lydia? Hasn’t it worked out well for both of us?”

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, causing her to shiver. Then, in an unexpected move, he leaned forward and pressed his cool lips against hers. Like the previous times he had done this, Lydia felt as though the air was leaving her body.

As though her soul was being sucked out.

And this time, Betelgeuse wasn’t there to save her.

Her business partner had been quiet since helping her the the aftermath of her being possessed and had not interfered with her personal life, just like she had told him not to. But as she desperately tried to pull away from Robert, she wished that the ghost was here now. Wished that he could save her, just like he always did.

But, as quickly as Robert had pressed his lips against hers, he pulled away.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Lydia asked breathlessly. “You can’t just keep kissing me like that, Robert. I –”

Robert held a hand up to cut her off.

“Of course I can,” he said, “I’m your manager now, Lydia. You practically belong to me. Think about what you will lose if you lose me. All that popularity that you’ve just gained will be gone. People will go back to posting negative comments about you again. You’ll be hated. I told you, Lydia. I’m here for you. You don’t need anyone else.”

Lydia tried to speak, but she couldn’t. For some reason, the words wouldn’t come out. All she could do was sit there while Forrester continued to run his hands through her hair and repeatedly tell her how much she needed him.

“This next assignment is going to be amazing, Lydia. You know why?”

Lydia slowly shook her head, trying not to shiver as the icy air nipped at her skin.

“The spirit that you’ll be dealing with is demonic. According to the details on the guest’s application, this is a very vicious ghost. The spirit has been wreaking havoc for a while, and this man, the one who has applied to be on the show, wants us to investigate it. You need to let this spirit possess you, Lydia. Let this ghost take over your body. Give the audience a good show.”

Lydia knew that she should be refusing it. This spirit wasn’t gentle like Samuel, but demonic. It was a much bigger risk. But Lydia felt drawn to it.

“If you do this, if you do this for me,” said Forrester, clasping her hands in his again, “I’ll make it worth your while. You’ll get rewarded for your hard work. Think of the popularity, Lydia. Think about how big Ghost House will finally become after all these years. You’ll have a career that most people can only dream of. You want that, don’t you?”

Lydia should have argued, should have told him that she couldn’t take such a huge risk, but instead she found herself nodding. It was as though she couldn’t help it. As though an invisible force was making her nod in agreement.

Forrester’s mouth curved up into a smirk.

“Good girl,” he said. “I’ll make the preparations, and we’ll start filming as soon as possible.”

His long, icy fingers stroked the backs of her hands.

“This is gonna be an episode to die for.”

***

Never, in all the times that she had interacted with him, had Lydia ever seen Betelgeuse so angry. The ghost was pacing the attic, muttering chaotically to himself, his words all jumbled.

“We agreed to this,” Lydia said for the second time since she had summoned him that evening, her voice shaky.

The only time Lydia had ever feared Betelgeuse was when he had terrorised the Deetz family all those years ago as a snake. She still sometimes thought about those sharp fangs and how he had hurt her father and Otho. That Betelgeuse had been very different from the one that she knew now.

And yet now, for the first time in years, she suddenly felt wary of him. It suddenly hit her, in that moment, how powerful he was. And as she watched him pacing and angrily muttering to himself, she suddenly felt worried.

The anger seemed to be radiating off him.

He had never, in all their previous encounters, shouted at her. Never once raised his voice. Yet tonight, when she had told him that the next assignment would involve her being possessed by a demonic spirit, he had immediately started shouting, a slew of swear words thrown in to every sentence that he had uttered.

“You ain’t fuckin’ doing this!” He shouted, spinning round to face her.

Lydia was glad that Astrid wasn’t home at that moment to hear their argument.

“You can’t stop me!” she shouted back. “We agreed to work together! We knew the risks!”

“This won’t be like last time, Lydia. This is a demonic possession we’re talkin about! A demonic possession that will be happening not to someone else but to you! You realise that this could kill you, don’t ya?”

“Of course it won’t!” said Lydia, trying to sound as certain as she possibly could. She knew there were risks, of course, but she couldn’t help but feel like Betelgeuse was overreacting.

It was strange seeing him so worried. Lydia was so used to him being so fearless, so used to seeing him being the one to scare everyone else. The only time she had seen him look scared was when his ex-wife had burst into the church on Halloween. She still hadn’t asked him about the whole situation with his ex-wife. It was one of the topics that she had been so desperate to talk to him about on the night of the party, when they had been discussing his experiences with the Black Plague. But she never got the chance.

“You’re catastrophising the situation. I can handle this.”

Betelgeuse immediately stopped pacing and turned to glare at her.

“You seriously think I’m overreacting to this?” he said. “Lyds, you have no idea what you’re about to do. You can’t go through with this.”

“We’re business partners,” said Lydia, folding her arms. “I understand your concern. But I don’t need it.”

“Then what’s the fuckin’ point of me doin’ this? What the hell is the point of this whole deal if you don’t want my concern or my help?” Betelgeuse said, walking close to her and almost jabbing a finger in her chest.

Lydia suddenly became aware of how much bigger than her he was and slowly backed away from him. The ghost’s face fell as he studied her worried expression.

“You’re scared of me,” he said, his gravelly voice softening. “You’re actually fuckin’ scared of me right now, aren’t you?”

“I…”

Betelgeuse let out a hollow laugh and shook his head.

“Jesus. You’re scared of me and yet I’m the one that’s been tryin’ to protect you from that fucker Forrester.”

“I can handle Forrester…”

“Just like you handled Rory, right Lyds?”

Lydia stared at him, her heart suddenly hammering hard against her chest.

Betelgeuse took a step closer to her.

“I’m a guy who speaks his mind and I’ve realised, tonight, that I ain’t been truthful enough with you.”

Lydia stepped back as he stepped towards, her breathing suddenly quickening.

“I knew Rory was a dirtbag way before the whole couples therapy incident.”

Lydia frowned at him, and he tapped his head.

“Psychic connection,” he said. “I saw how he treated you. The fucker was an enabler. A disgustin,’ lying piece of shit who fuelled your anxieties for years. You couldn’t see it, but I could. And now you’re lettin’ Forrester do the same thing. There’s somethin’ wrong with the guy, Lydia. You need to understand that. He’s controlling you, just like Rory did. In fact, I’ve got a feeling that Forrester is –”

Lydia held a hand up to silence him. She was shaking. Shaking upon learning that Betelgeuse had, once again, known something about her life. He had known that Rory was being deceitful long before she had.

He always knew.

The same conflicting feelings bubbled around in her stomach again. She was thankful, thankful that he had been the one to dispose of Rory, but also frustrated. Frustrated that he always knew what was happening in her life.

“I told you to stay out of my personal life,” she said, her voice shaky.

Betelgeuse sniggered and shook his head.

“And I already told you that that’s fine. But this is about Forrester wanting you to do this dangerous assignment. And since it’s about work, I need to be involved because of our deal. I’m just warning ya, Lydia. Don’t let him control you like Rory did.”

“I didn’t let Rory control me. And I’m not going to let Forrester control me!”

The ghost shook his head again. 

“You’re makin’ a big mistake with this assignment. A stupid mistake.”

“Oh, so I’m stupid now?” said Lydia, raising her voice slightly, still shaking at the conflict between them both.

She had always hated conflict. And as she and Betelgeuse argued, she couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken. Heartbroken at the fact that her bizarre relationship with this ghost, who had haunted her for years, had slowly been developing into a friendship that was now fracturing.

“Yeah,” her business partner growled. “You are.”

The words hit her directly in the gut and Lydia bit her lip hard.

But he didn’t stop there.

Betelgeuse stepped towards her, his face still scrunched up in the angry expression that Lydia so rarely saw.

“Like I’ve told ya before, if you die during one of these assignments, then you’ll be leavin’ your daughter behind. The daughter that I saved. The daughter that I violated a major fuckin’ code for. And if that happens, Lyds, I won’t be happy. I’ll be fuckin’ angrier than I am now. Because nothin’ makes me angrier than someone who tosses away their life like that. It’s a selfish move.”

“I…”

“Deal or no deal, I don’t wanna see you takin’ such huge risks. I’ll save you, I’ll always save you, it’s part of our agreement. Part of our deal is for me to help you with these assignments. But don’t expect me to be happy with you if it goes wrong and you end up dead.”

Lydia watched, breathing hard as he ran a hand over his face.

“Fuck this,” he growled. “Just call me when the assignment takes place.”

And he disappeared, leaving Lydia to stare at the wisp of smoke he’d left behind.

She was shaking from his words, shaking at hearing him be so honest with her.

And right at that moment, Lydia didn’t like the harsh honesty.

She wanted the mischievous Betelgeuse back. She wanted him to crack jokes and puns, wanted to hear his booming laugh. Wanted them to drink champagne together again and share stories, wanted to hear about his life. Wanted to connect with him.

She didn't like this angry, honest Betelgeuse. She hated how much his honest words had hurt. Hated how much the truth hurt.

He was right.

He was always right.

He always knew.

And Lydia hated it. She hated it, because she knew that she was indeed about to take an even bigger risk.

But she had to do it. This investigation would be the ultimate test.

She was determined to show all those people on the forum, to show Forrester, and to show Betelgeuse, that she could succeed.

And no matter how much she tried to deny it, she knew, very deep down, that out of all of those people, all of those random people on the forum, out of the whole of the production team, out of the whole of Ghost House’s millions of viewers, that it was Betelgeuse’s opinion that mattered to her the most.

He was the one that she wanted to prove wrong the most.

She wanted him to be the one to see that she could, would, succeed.

She would not fail.

Chapter Text

The sound of screams had always been music to his ears. Betelgeuse watched out of the bedroom window as the young couple ran into their garden and up the street, smirking as their screams grew fainter and fainter. Then, he turned around and shook hands with his client, a young ghost man who had, for months, been trying to get the couple out of his home.

“Thanks so much,” the ghost said, clasping Betelgeuse’s hands. “I’m so happy to finally have them out of my house.”

“No problem, pal. Just spread the word. Tell all your ghost friends about me, yeah? And if you ever need any help again, you know where to find me.”

The ghost beamed at him and nodded enthusiastically. Then, without another word, Betelgeuse teleported to his office and glanced around, hoping his team of skeleton workers would quickly give him details of his next job.

He had to keep busy.

He had to keep his brain active.

He had to try and push the interaction between him and Lydia out of his mind.

Their first ever argument.

It had crushed him to see Lydia’s expression when he had shouted at her. She had looked so scared of him. So hurt. But his anger had consumed him, had taken over and caused him to be brutally honest with her.

She was vulnerable, he knew that. Rory’s deceit had broken her, taken away her confidence. He knew that she was desperate to prove herself, to prove that she was capable of helping ghosts and living people to co-exist. And as much as Betelgeuse wanted to believe in her, he knew that not every ghost could be saved. He had told her that much. But she was so damn stubborn. So determined.

As frustrating as that stubbornness was, it was another reason why he loved her. His thoughts drifted back to that evening in the Winter River house thirty-six years ago, when she had been desperate to save the Maitlands. She was just a kid back then, and her respect for the dead had not waned with age.

And Betelgeuse knew that eventually, her respect and her overwhelming need to save every spirit would result in Lydia being seriously injured.

Or worse, killed.

He sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair. A noise caught his attention, and he looked up to see George hovering over him, a note clutched in his hand. Betelgeuse took it, thanked the skeleton, and quickly read it. He closed his eyes and scrunched the note up before tossing it into a nearby bin. Another damn appointment with Wolf. The fucker was checking up on him again and making sure that he was sticking to their agreement.

He sighed again before asking George to hold the fort and then teleported to the waiting room.

***

“Everything going good?” asked Wolf, before taking a long gulp of coffee.

“Everythin’s great, just like it was the last time ya asked me. Which was two days ago.”

Wolf chuckled and set his cup down.

“Just making sure you’re sticking to our agreement, Mr. Geuse. Remember, you need to keep that bio-exorcist business of yours running to keep yourself out of trouble. Otherwise, I’ll have to put those punishments for your code violation in place.”

“Yeah,” said Betelgeuse, sounding bored. “I know.”

Wolf studied him for a few moments before speaking again.

“You’ve seemed a little…distracted, the past couple of times we’ve spoken. Are you sure everything’s fine?”

Betelgeuse glared at him.

“If you’re tryin’ to get me to say I’ve been up to no good, then you’re wastin’ your time, Wolf. I’ve been bustin’ my balls with this bio-exorcist business. Been tryin’ my best. Would it kill ya to congratulate me for building it back up again?”

Wolf leaned back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on the ghost.

“It’s just…you seem to have built your business up very quickly. You were left with nothing. All your shrinkers were gone, and you lost all your clients. It’s been…how long? A month? Almost two. And your client list is looking very hefty. That’s…that’s one hell of an achievement.”

Betelgeuse shifted in his chair. Jackson wasn’t stupid, he’d give him that. Betelgeuse knew that he was going to struggle to keep his business partnership with Lydia a secret for much longer.

He sighed.

He had always been the kind of guy to speak his mind. Such a trait was exactly why his business relationship with Lydia was now strained. However, he was also a chaotic trickster who would tell the occasional lie if it benefited himself. If there was one thing he’d learned, though, it was that the afterlife’s laws always had a way of catching up with such mischievous spirits, and considering how many crimes and code violations he had committed in the whole of his afterlife, Betelgeuse was certainly at risk of facing some serious punishments.

Wolf was still staring at him, determined to get the truth out of him. Betelgeuse stared back, determined not to be the one to speak first, despite knowing that he had little choice but to reveal his secret.

“Slow day, today,” Wolf finally said. “I’ve got a lotta free time. I can wait.”

He leaned back and placed his hands behind his head, a huge grin plastered on his face. A few minutes passed, but still, Betelgeuse didn’t speak.

“Still waiting, Mr Geuse. You really should tell me what –”

“Alright, alright! Fuck’s sake,” Betelgeuse growled. “I’ve been gettin' some help…”

“Go on.”

The ghost sighed before revealing everything about the partnership between himself and Lydia.

“And she agreed to help me with my business,” he explained. “I’ve been gaining clients from the assignments she’s been takin’ on and they’ve been spreadin’ the word. That’s how my client list has built up so quickly. She helped me to capture the crazy poltergeist that you got rid of a few weeks ago. ”

Wolf was silent as he digested Betelgeuse’s words. Then, finally, he spoke.

“Teaming up with a fleshbag, eh? And not just any feshbag, one that you’re crazy about.”

Betelgeuse opened his mouth to speak, but Wolf held up a hand to silence him.

“Don’t even think about denying it. We saw the damaged photo of her in your office. She’s the one you broke the code for. This could go very wrong, Geuse. Nothing good will come from mixing business with pleasure.”

“There ain’t much pleasure goin’ on,” muttered Betelgeuse. “She made it clear that she doesn’t want any romantic gestures or inappropriate behaviour. It’s part of our deal.”

“Well, that…that changes everything. But do you think you can stick to the deal?”

“Have done so far. I’m not the kinda guy to break a deal, Wolf.”

Wolf chuckled before taking another sip of coffee.

“Still don’t think it’s a good idea for the dead to be working with the living, Geuse. It’s a big risk.”

“Yeah, but Lydia ain’t a normal living person,” said Betelgeuse, his gravelly voice and tone softening like it always did whenever Lydia was the topic of the discussion.

“That’s…true. The stepmom’s an unusual one, too. Not that I’m complaining. I liked her. You still need to be careful, though. There’s a whole lotta risks that come with communicating with dangerous spirits.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Betelgeuse. “I keep tryin’ to tell that to Lydia. But…”

He sighed as he thought back to their argument. Of how Lydia had reacted when he had told her that she let Rory control her. Of how she had interrupted him just as he was about to reveal his suspicions about Forrester…

“I’ve got a question for ya, Wolf.”

“Go on.”

“What happens to a living person who gets eaten by a Sandworm?”

***

The house was huge, almost mansion-sized. It did nothing to calm Betelgeuse’s nerves. Only one week had passed since his argument with Lydia, and here she was, about to take on the dangerous assignment that had been the cause of their conflict.

She wasn’t ready. She still looked exhausted, and she had barely spoken to him when she had called him. Her voice had been strained as she had given him the information about the location of the assignment. Once again, she had told him not to intervene, but Betelgeuse wasn’t going to listen this time.

This time, he was ready to save her. He would give her the chance to be possessed, just like she wanted to be, but he was going to make sure that the evil spirit didn’t harm her. He would have to perform a double possession, like he had done with Kate.

But Kate’s husband had been a far cry from what he and Lydia were about to face.

This spirit was demonic. On a completely different level.

For the first time in his afterlife, Betelgeuse was truly scared.

He was also distracted by Wolf’s answer to his question at their meeting a few days ago, but he would think about that later. For now, he needed to focus on being ready to save Lydia.

He watched as she disappeared into the house with Julian, the young guy who had applied to be on the show. Betelgeuse took a deep breath and then teleported into the house, thinking that it was odd that the man lived in such a huge house by himself.

He materialised in the living room, but didn’t show himself. The air was ice cold, which, as a dead guy, didn’t bother him at all. But he could see Lydia shivering as she addressed the camera and gestured for Julian to follow her. Betelgeuse shook his head as he studied the guy’s movements, which seemed overly dramatic.

Something didn’t seem right about it all…

And then, as his eyes raked over the photos on the wall, it hit him. This house, this huge house that Lydia was investigating, didn’t belong to Julian at all. If Betelgeuse had to guess, this fucker had pretended to own it so that he could get himself on television. Which, if you asked Betelgeuse, was a stupid thing to do, considering that there was a demonic spirit in there.

He quickly teleported to different rooms throughout the large house, looking for something to confirm his suspicions. He soon found the evidence on a calendar in the kitchen. His eyes darted over the dates, and he quickly learned that the actual owners were currently away on a long vacation. How Julian had gotten a key to the house, Betelgeuse didn’t know. But this fucker was not a good friend to be using someone else’s haunted home as his claim to fame.

A screeching sound came from the living room, and Betelgeuse quickly teleported back. He watched as Lydia’s eyes widened in shock, and his eyes shifted to where her gaze was fixed.

A ghost woman was standing in the corner of the room. Her skin was chalk white, with blobs of black blood dotting her face. Betelgeuse could see clumps of it sticking to her hair, which was as wild as his own. Her huge, pupilless eyes were fixed on Lydia and Julian, and she looked…hungry.

Like a wild animal that had spotted their prey.

The ghost was smirking, her grin so wide that it almost stretched right across her face. Then, she opened her mouth, exposing long, sharp teeth. A long, almost snake-like black tongue shot out of her mouth, and she licked her lips, leaving a thick trail of green saliva along them.

Betelgeuse wasn’t gonna lie. This chick looked terrifying but also impressive.

As a dead guy who thrived on scaring the shit out of people, he had always been one to appreciate other scary looking ghosts. As long as they weren’t competition for his business, then he would happily converse with ghosts whose abilities matched his own. Not that many did have the same abilities as he did.

But this spirit certainly did. She looked ready to pounce, and Betelgeuse winced as Lydia stepped forward and offered herself to the demon.

“What you’re about to see is a demonic possession,” Lydia said, addressing the camera. “I’m going to allow the spirit to enter my body and try to form a connection with it.”

Betelgeuse shook his head as he listened to Lydia speak. She really had no idea what she was getting herself into. Evil spirits could not be reasoned with. This chick needed a goddamn exorcist, not a psychic mediator.

“You all need to watch this!” said Julian, addressing his phone’s camera excitedly. “This is my house where this is happening. My house! You can find me on Instagram and Tik –”

“Julian!” hissed Lydia. “Now isn’t the time! Guests aren’t allowed to film during investigations, please put your phone away!”

Julian reluctantly took a step back, looking angry at being berated.

Lydia turned to face the spirit, who was floating closer to them. Then, with a nod to Andy to make sure he was still filming, she held her arms out, offering herself to the ghost woman. Within seconds, the spirit had lunged forward and entered Lydia’s body with such force that she was thrown backwards onto the sofa behind her. Slowly, she pushed herself up, a low growl emitting from her throat.

Her warm brown eyes were gone, replaced with pupilless ones that were as black as the low-cut dress that she was wearing. Betelgeuse stared, his eyes widening as Lydia’s mouth slowly opened to reveal sharp, elongated teeth. Then, her body started shaking violently, demonic sounds escaping her throat, and Betelgeuse immediately rushed forward. Before he could help, though, Lydia’s arm shot out and hit him square in the gut.

And at that moment, Betelgeuse was glad that he had a larger than average belly.

The force of the blow was still strong enough to send him flying backwards, though, and he crashed into a lamp on the other side of the room. He had remained invisible throughout it all, which was a good thing, because it meant that all the fuckers that were going to be watching this for entertainment wouldn’t be able to see him getting his ass kicked by an evil female spirit.

He managed to push himself up and stood up just in time to watch the possessed Lydia trashing the room. Growls, screeches, hisses, and other inhuman sounds escaped his business partner’s throat as she picked up the coffee table and snapped it in two with her bare hands. Then, she started picking up ornaments and photos, throwing them across the room with such force that they left huge dents in the walls.

Andy let out a cry of shock as an ornament flew past his head and rushed to the other side of the room, still trying to keep his camera fixed on Lydia as he did so. Julian was crouched behind the sofa, his phone held out in front of him as he tried to record the chaotic moment.

And then, without warning, Lydia’s body started to convulse. Thick, green vomit began to pour out of her mouth, covering the remains of the broken table and everything else in the surrounding area.

Betelgeuse began to panic.

He had to intervene. He had to save her. Right now.

He lunged forward, knowing that what he was about to do could not only put Lydia at risk but also himself.

But at that moment, he did not care about himself.

He just needed to save Lydia.

Within seconds, he had entered her body and immediately began battling with the vicious spirit who was already in there.

Betelgeuse wasn’t stupid. He knew that the audience would be waiting to hear him speak. They had already recognised his voice in the previous assignments. He had to avoid speaking and keep quiet. He had to let Lydia take all the credit for this. He knew she would be angry at him for intervening, so he would make sure that she got all the recognition for today’s assignment.

He let out a low growl as he tried to leave Lydia’s body and pull the spirit out with him, but it was no good. The demon wouldn’t budge. Betelgeuse watched through Lydia’s eyes as Andy and Julian continued to cower behind their cameras.

The audience was gonna love this, that was for sure. And the thought of that made Betelgeuse feel nauseous. The fuckers were going to enjoy watching Lydia being possessed by two chaotic spirits.

And that really angered him.

He felt a force pressing against his face, and a foul stench, the stench of ghost blood, entered his nostrils. He felt Lydia’s body shaking violently as the two ghosts battled inside her. She began hitting herself and tearing at her skin with her nails, growls and hisses emitting from her throat as Betelgeuse tried desperately to get the demon out of her.

This carried on for at least another ten minutes, and Betelgeuse, finally realising that double possession wasn’t going to work this time, decided to take another approach.

He would have to leave her body and then pull the thing out of her.

Lydia stumbled as he exited her body, and then, still invisible, he whispered a quick apology to her before placing his entire arm down her throat.

Thanks to her possessed state, Lydia’s mouth was able to stretch to an impossible size as Betelgeuse’s elongated arm travelled down her throat and into her stomach. He hissed as the sharp teeth that had developed upon her possession pressed painfully into his cold skin. He rummaged around, like a person rummaging through trash for an item that they had accidentally thrown out.

Betelgeuse kept his eyes averted from Lydia’s face as he carried out his task, not wanting to see the toll that this was all taking on her. He could feel icy air circulating around the hand that was currently inside Lydia’s stomach. Then, he felt something brushing his hand, and he quickly wrapped his fingers around it, before standing back and giving one final almighty tug.

If Betelgeuse had been a living person, he would have been sweating profusely. He scrunched his face up as he pulled the spirit out of Lydia’s body. As it left her, Lydia fell backwards, landing on one of the sharp pieces of the broken table as she did so.

Hoping that Andy would see sense and stop filming to help her, Betelgeuse quickly dragged the struggling ghost into another room. He slammed the door shut behind him and watched as the spirit steadied herself and fixed her gaze on him.

She looked like she wanted to devour him.

Situations like this really sucked. Something had made this spirit go crazy. And, like Betelgeuse had told Lydia many times since they had made their deal, there was just no helping such spirits. The only way to deal with an evil ghost was to dispose of it.

If she had been an ordinary ghost, then Betelgeuse would have considered trying to gain a new client. But this spirit was too far gone for that.

She had to go.

And Betelgeuse now had the tricky job of getting rid of her, of somehow luring her into the afterlife so that Wolf and his team could get rid of her.

She was still staring hungrily at him, and the noises that were currently escaping her mouth at that moment told him that he was going to have to really turn on the charm.

He might even have to go back to his old flirty ways. Just for a few minutes, until he had managed to convince this chick to leave Lydia alone and come back to the afterlife with him.

He approached her slowly.

“Listen honey, I know what it’s like to want to scare the shit outta living people. No one loves a good old possession like I do, believe me. Let's have a little chat, shall we? Just you and me…”

***

Lydia groaned as her eyes fluttered open. Andy and Julian’s concerned faces came into view, and they slowly backed away from her as she let out a hiss of pain and pushed herself up.

“My god, Lydia, are you ok?” Andy asked, reaching out to steady her as she stood up.

“You’re bleeding!” Julian gasped, pointing at her arm and sounding more excited than concerned. He held up his phone to take a photo, but quickly lowered it as Andy shot him a warning look.

“I’m fine,” Lydia said, gingerly touching the wound on her arm and panicking at the sight of her torn dress. Robert wasn’t going to be happy about that.

“We need to get you checked over,” Andy said, still holding onto her.

“I’m fine,” Lydia repeated.

But as she uttered the words, she knew that it wasn’t true. She wasn’t fine at all. Her limbs felt weak, and her head was pounding. She glanced down at her hands, which were covered in scratches.

She felt light. Empty. And that emptiness was accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of sadness.

Lydia had no idea what had happened during the possession or where her business partner had gone.

“What happened?” she asked Andy, who was examining the wound on her arm with a concerned look on his face.

“Something…something pulled the spirit out of you. Your mouth was wide open, and it just…it came out…Lydia, you really need to get yourself checked out.”

“What happened before the spirit was pulled out?” Lydia asked, ignoring Andy’s insistence that she get her wounds checked.

She wanted to know what had been happening before Betelgeuse intervened. Had he allowed her to be possessed for a little while? Or had he tried to stop it straight away? Lydia groaned, feeling overwhelmed by it all.

“I got it all!” said Julian excitedly, holding out his phone and playing the video that he had taken.

“You’d better delete that," said Andy warningly. "The production team doesn't allow guests to take footage of the investigations. It's in the terms and conditions.”

But Julian ignored him and carried on playing the video.

Lydia watched herself trashing the house, her eyes widening at the sight of her picking up the coffee table and easily breaking it with her bare hands. She watched as thick vomit poured out of her mouth and frowned when, seconds later, she started hitting and scratching herself.

Betelgeuse must have entered her body and tried to get the spirit out, just like he had done with Kate when she was being possessed. She watched, feeling horrified. Julian had captured at least ten minutes of footage, footage of her clawing at her face and body as the evil spirit and Betelgeuse battled inside her. Then, her body moved forward, and Lydia realised that Betelgeuse must have given up. But seconds later, her mouth slowly widened, stretching by an impossible amount, and Lydia’s eyes widened again as she watched the spirit being pulled out of her body by the invisible force.

It was like something from a horror movie.

And Lydia wasn’t sure how to feel about it all.

She had been drawn to the assignment, had craved the experience and had wanted to test her abilities. She had bravely allowed the evil spirit to possess her. This time, however, there was no happy outcome. But she knew that many of Ghost House’s viewers wouldn’t care about that. They didn’t want happy endings for these investigations. They didn’t care if these evil, lost, and lonely spirits were helped. They wanted entertainment, and they would certainly be entertained by what Lydia had just experienced.

This was going to boost her popularity, that was for sure.

Her heart thumped hard against her chest as she weakly pushed Julian’s phone away from her. She was feeling so confused. So conflicted.

Betelgeuse had saved her. Again.

And while she felt thankful, she couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t intervened. Would there have been any chance at all of Lydia managing to connect with the spirit and help it?

She would never know.

She needed to find her business partner.

“I…I need to use the bathroom,” she said, not wanting Andy or Julian to follow her. She didn’t want either of them to hear her conversation with Betelgeuse if he was still in the house.

“Sure,” said Julian. “It’s upstairs, first room on the left.”

Lydia nodded and started to walk away. Her foot collided with a broken photo frame, and she glanced down at the crumpled photo and frowned.

“Are these your relatives?” she asked Julian, reaching down and picking up the photo. Her gaze shifted to other photos dotted throughout the house as she did so. “You aren’t in any of these photos.”

“I..er…I just hate having my photo taken,” said Julian quickly, still clutching his phone.

Lydia glanced at Andy, who was eyeing Julian suspiciously, then shifted her gaze to the young man’s phone. The grinning selfie that was currently on the device’s lock screen told Lydia that Julian didn’t hate having his photo taken.

She shook her head, placed the photo back down on the floor and left the two men standing alone in the living room, hoping that there wouldn’t be any confrontation. She couldn’t deal with it right now in the state that she was in.

Her head pounded as she climbed the stairs, and she grasped the bannister, trying desperately not to lose her balance. As she neared the top of the stairs, she could hear faint voices coming from one of the bedrooms. She crept nearer and immediately recognised Betelgeuse’s gravelly voice.

“….would love ya to join me, babe. It’s really boring up here in the living world. You don’t wanna spend the rest of your death here. I can show you a good time back in the afterlife.”

Lydia frowned and leaned forward, listening closely.

“Whadd’ya say? Just you and me? I’ll make it worth your while, darlin’.”

Lydia crept closer to the door and peered through the small gap. Her business partner was standing very close to the female ghost, who was brushing her fingers across his face.

“Soulmates,” the dead woman said, the word coming out in a throaty growl.

“Sure!” said Betelgeuse, lacing his fingers with the spirit’s long, chalk-white ones. “We can be together forever.”

“I have been lonely for so long,” the female ghost growled. “It was driving me crazy…”

Lydia thought she could detect a faint accent, and she was immediately reminded of Betelgeuse’s ex-wife, though this spirit was far less attractive than the statuesque beauty that had interrupted Betelgeuse’s second marriage attempt.

“I admire a man who dares to fight me…the double possession was….sexy.”

“Well, I’m definitely the man for you then, sweetheart,” Betelgeuse purred. “Let’s head back right now and er…I’ll show you that good time that I promised you.”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

And Lydia clenched her fists.

If she had been in a normal state of mind, she would have quickly figured out that Betelgeuse was trying to lure this evil ghost back to the afterlife to be destroyed and had no romantic interest in her whatsoever.

But Lydia wasn’t in a normal state of mind.

She had just been possessed by two ghosts. She was tired, battered, and broken from the experience. Her head hurt, her body ached, and she was currently feeling an overwhelming sense of failure. Failure at being unable to help this spirit, like she had wanted to.

Such feelings were now making her think irrational thoughts, and her heart hammered hard against her chest as she listened to Betelgeuse flirting with the ghost that he had warned her about.

Flirting. Actually flirting.

Lydia felt an unpleasant stab of something deep within her stomach, and she wasn’t sure why. She felt angry, overwhelmed and…hurt.

It had to be because of her current state of mind. It just had to be.

There was no other explanation for the fact that she was currently feeling upset by her business partner flirting with a dangerous spirit.

He’s doing it to lure her into the afterlife, Lydia. That’s all it is.

That’s what her brain should have been telling her.

But it wasn’t.

Instead, it was replaying all the things he had said to her during their argument. How he had been so brutally honest with her about Rory and Forrester’s treatment of her. How he thought she was “stupid” for taking on such a dangerous assignment. An assignment that had involved dealing with a dangerous female spirit…who he was now flirting with.

The nerve!

Lydia had read about the effect that possessions could have on a person’s body, and she was still experiencing some of the emotions that had consumed her when the spirit was inside her. The most prominent had been anger. And at that moment, she felt an overwhelming urge to hit the door. To release all the hurt, anger, sadness, and frustration, all of which were the same feelings that the evil spirit had felt at being left to haunt the huge house for so long, forgotten by the afterlife, just like so many other spirits that would never be helped.

Lydia didn’t hit the door.

Instead, she walked away, the sound of her business partner’s suggestive remarks ringing in her ears. She heard the familiar noise of him disappearing and felt another stab of hurt that he hadn’t even bothered to speak to her.

If she had been thinking straight, Lydia would have worked out that Betelgeuse wasn’t able to speak to her because he was too busy being in the process of taking an evil, unpredictable spirit back with him to the afterlife. But she wasn’t thinking straight, and so the lack of communication bothered her much more than it should have done.

As she walked, she glanced down to see blood seeping from the wound on her arm and dripping onto the wooden floor, hitting it with a sickening splash.

And then, the room started spinning.

Lydia tried to reach out for something to steady her, but there was nothing to grab. Her vision became blurry, and she fell backwards, fainting as the aftermath of the possession finally took its toll on her.

Chapter Text

The first thing that Lydia caught sight of when her eyes fluttered open was the huge bunch of black and white roses on the table next to her bed.

It took her several moments to realise that it wasn’t her bed that she was lying in, but a hospital bed. She glanced around the room in panic and raised her arm, which was connected to a drip.

The injury that she had sustained upon falling onto the broken piece of the table had been stitched up, but Lydia had no recollection of anyone treating the wound. She stared at the repaired wound, frowning at the set of neatly placed stitches, which looked ugly against her flawless, pale skin. Then, she examined her other arm and her hands, which were covered in scratches. Her body ached, and she winced as she moved her legs. She brought a hand up to the back of her head and felt a large, painful bump.

She lay back on the pillow, trying to remember the aftermath of the possession. Slowly, images formed in her head. She remembered watching Julian’s video of her possession, and she remembered walking upstairs and hearing voices coming from the bedroom.

And then she remembered Betelgeuse flirting with the demon who had possessed her. Lydia’s stomach churned unpleasantly, and she tried to push the image of Betelgeuse lacing his fingers with the ghost woman’s long ones, before trying to remember what happened afterwards. But she couldn’t.

She glanced around the room again, wrinkling her nose at the scent that hung in the air. It smelled so…clinical. An unpleasant mix of cleaning agents and other chemicals. Lydia had always hated it. Her last proper visit to a hospital had been sixteen years ago, when Astrid was born.

She sighed and sat up, wincing again. Her gaze shifted back to the roses on the table next to her bed, and she leaned closer, looking for a note. But there wasn’t one.

The sound of the door opening caught her attention, and Lydia looked up to see Astrid entering the room, a coffee cup clutched in her hand.

“Oh my god, you’re awake!” the teenager said, rushing to the side of the bed and placing the cup down before reaching over to embrace Lydia.

“Sorry,” Astrid muttered, as Lydia hissed in pain at the contact. “I should call the nurse, get them to top up your meds.”

She nodded at the drip and took a seat next to the bed.

“What happened to me?” Lydia asked weakly. “I remember being in the house after the possession, but I don’t remember leaving it.”

“You fainted and hit your head. It was bad. Andy found you. I…”

Astrid took a deep breath before wiping her eyes.

“It was scary, Mom. You weren’t responding. And then…you started having a fit. They’ve been trying to figure out what caused it.”

“It was probably just the aftermath of the possession,” said Lydia, closing her eyes as her head fell back onto the pillow.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t exactly convince the doctors that being possessed by a demon caused it. I think they’re far too busy dealing with their patients to believe in ghosts.”

“Who are those from?” Lydia asked, nodding at the black and white roses.

“No idea,” said Astrid, shrugging. “Oh, he was here. Your business partner. Maybe they’re from him?”

Lydia laughed and shook her head.

“He wouldn’t send roses. It’s not exactly appropriate considering our business partnership.”

“Well, they are black and white. His signature colours.”

“Not everything black and white has to be associated with him, Astrid,” said Lydia, even though her own mind had immediately thought of him when she had seen the colours.

Astrid was about to respond when a nurse entered the room.

“Oh good, you're awake!” the kind-faced woman said, rushing over to the bed and inspecting the drip. “I’ll let the doctor know. We need to do a few scans, just a few tests to find out what caused your seizure.”

“No need,” said Lydia. “It’s all work related.”

The nurse frowned, and Lydia smiled.

“I’m fine now,” she said.

The nurse didn’t look convinced.

“We’d still like to carry out some tests. Just to be sure. And if it is work-related, I would consider finding a new job. You need to put your health first. You gave your daughter quite a scare.”

Lydia felt Astrid squeeze her hand as the nurse spoke. She glanced at her daughter and smiled, once again feeling thankful to still have her by her side.

“The gentleman who was in here yesterday seemed quite concerned, too. He sat by your bed for quite a while. Hours, in fact. I’ll be back shortly to sort out your drip.”

Before Lydia could respond, the nurse quickly exited the room.

“I summoned him,” said Astrid, noticing Lydia’s confused expression. “I wasn’t sure if he would know what had happened, so I called him and told him you were in the hospital.”

“What did he say when you told him I fainted?” Lydia asked, her heart suddenly pounding.

“I think you know how he reacted, Mom. He cares about you.”

“Yeah,” Lydia scoffed. “Cares about me so much that he was flirting with the demon who possessed me.”

She glanced at Astrid, who raised an eyebrow.

“I know that he was doing it to lure her back to the afterlife, but it still annoyed me. He said I was stupid for taking on the assignment because the demon was dangerous, and then he goes and flirts with her.”

“And you care about that because…”

“What?”

“If he’s just your business partner, why does it matter that he’s flirting with someone?”

“I…”

Astrid’s mouth curved into a smirk, and Lydia rolled her eyes.

“I don’t care about it because of that. It just annoyed me that he was so angry at me for letting a dangerous demon possess me, and then he makes suggestive remarks to it! Flirts with it!”

Lydia folded her arms, wincing as a sharp pain shot through her wound, and quickly unfolded them again. She glanced at Astrid, who was still grinning at her, and quickly changed the subject.

“How’s school been?”

Astrid shrugged.

“It’s been ok. I took a few days off to sit with you when you were unconscious, so obviously I’ve missed a few lessons, but nothing important.”

“Your education is important, Astrid.”

“So are you. And I don’t think my future will be too badly affected because I’ve missed a couple of science lessons that involved the dissection of a frog.”

Lydia chuckled.

“Can’t argue with that,” she said. “I got a C on my science test because they wanted me to dissect a frog and I refused.”

Astrid laughed and stood up.

“I’m gonna grab myself some lunch, want anything?”

Lydia shook her head.

“Maybe later.”

Astrid smiled in response and exited the room.

Lydia’s head fell back onto the pillow, and she closed her eyes as thoughts of her business partner sitting by her bed entered her head.

And she couldn’t help but smile.

***

One thing Lydia hated about hospitals was that everything took so damn long. She was still hooked up to her drip, waiting for the results of her scans, which had been taken hours ago.

She sighed and picked up a magazine from her bedside table, her gaze shifting to the black and white roses again as she did so.

A noise caught her attention, and she looked up, expecting to see Astrid entering the room. But it wasn’t Astrid. Lydia’s stomach churned unpleasantly as she watched Robert Forrester walk through the doors, a huge grin on his face.

“Lydia!” he beamed. “The hospital called and said you were awake, but I’ve been so busy. You wouldn’t believe how crazy things have been since your…er…little accident.”

He seated himself next to Lydia, and an icy breeze immediately engulfed her. She shivered and averted her gaze from Robert, not wanting to look into his dark, almost black eyes.

“You should have kept yourself hydrated,” he said, taking her hand and patting it. “It would have prevented the fainting.”

“I didn’t have time to have a drink, Robert,” said Lydia. “I was too busy being possessed by a demon.”

Robert clapped his hands together loudly, causing Lydia’s anxiety to spike.

“Oh, I’m so glad you mentioned the possession, Lydia. You are a star! Have you seen Ghost House’s forum? Have you looked at our Instagram page?”

“No, I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being unconscious.”

Robert waved his hand dismissively and continued speaking.

“We are on fire, Lydia. The show’s viewers have shot up! They loved the demon possession.”

Lydia frowned.

“Hang on,” she said. “We haven’t recorded the studio segment yet. How can people have seen the episode when it hasn’t even aired yet?”

“Julian shared the footage on social media! It spread so fast! It’s like a pandemic!”

“But that’s against the rules of the show! Guests aren’t allowed to share footage! And it wasn’t even his house!”

“Who cares?” said Robert, waving his hand to shush her. “This is good for the show, Lydia! And look at this…”

He held his phone out. Lydia glanced at it and saw that her appreciation thread now had more than two thousand posts.

“You’re so popular, baby!”

Lydia grimaced at the pet name, and Robert reached forward and grabbed her hands. She shivered as he stroked them and tried to pull away, but his grip was firm.

“You did amazing, Lydia! Come on, let’s take a photo to post on our Instagram page!”

Lydia moved away from him, still grimacing.

“Robert, I’m in a hospital bed. I don’t want people seeing me like this!”

“Nonsense! The viewers will love it! Come on, show them your wound!”

He grabbed her arm, and Lydia let out a hiss of pain.

“Robert, please! I don’t want –”

“I’m just trying to help you, Lydia. You don’t want all your fans thinking that you're ignoring them, do you? It’s selfish. You owe them a photo. You can’t ignore them.”

Lydia’s breathing suddenly quickened, and she finally looked Robert in the eyes.

And something happened.

His slicked back hairstyle, the colour of his eyes and the shape of his face quickly changed, morphing into a face that was all too familiar…

Lydia gasped as Rory’s face flickered into view, but as quickly as the vision came, it disappeared.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked.

“I…you…your face…”

She closed her eyes, wondering if the nurses had accidentally given her too much medication.

“You’ve had way too many pills,” Forrester said, as though he could read her thoughts. “And you know how I feel about that. Now come on, let’s take that photo. Show your fans how much you appreciate them…”

“Take a hint, pal. She doesn’t want her photo taken.”

Lydia’s head shot up, her gaze immediately shifting to the door where the gravelly voice had just come from. Relief flooded her as she saw her business partner standing there, casually leaning against the door frame. He was dressed in the same pinstripe suit that he had worn to the party and on the night when he had interrupted Lydia’s dinner date with Forrester.

“Well, look who it is,” Forrester said, not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice. “It’s your…friend. Sorry, but I’m visiting Lydia right now. You can have your turn later.”

“She can have more than one visitor if she wants,” Betelgeuse said. “But I’ll go if she would rather be with you. Do you want me to go, Lydia?”

“No,” said Lydia quickly. Very quickly. Her heart rate spiked as Betelgeuse’s grin widened, and the ghost pushed himself off the doorway before seating himself on a chair on the other side of Lydia’s bed.

Forrester looked livid.

“You don’t need this guy, Lydia,” he said, nodding at Betelgeuse. “I already told you, you’ve got me.”

“She’s allowed to have friends,” said Betelgeuse, and Lydia felt a rush of happiness at his words.

She had, ever since the night of the party, started to consider Betelgeuse a friend. As long as they kept their relationship strictly professional, there was nothing wrong with a friendship. However, it was a tentative one, mostly because Lydia hadn’t been sure if Betelgeuse felt the same.

But hearing him call her his friend just now had been a confirmation for her. A confirmation that he, like she did, believed that they had formed a sort of friendship. But then her anxiety immediately took over, and Lydia wondered whether he was saying such things to annoy Robert. Perhaps he didn’t consider her a friend after all.

It was moments like this that Lydia hated being an anxious person. She hated the constant agonising, the fact that her brain couldn’t seem to just settle and let her be happy. Everything was overthought and analysed to death, and Lydia hated it. She hated Rory for turning her into a broken, unstable mess. She wanted to believe that Betelgeuse had meant it, that him referring to them as “friends” was genuine and not just an act to piss off Forrester.

“It depends on who the friend is,” said Robert, continuing to glare at the ghost. “Some friends are not a good influence. I, however, am just what Lydia needs right now. She needs to recover, so that we can discuss her next assignment.”

Lydia frowned and glanced up at Forrester, who looked down at her and beamed.

“Next assignment? Robert, I’m still in a hospital bed! I’ll need a break from work for a while…”

“With the right care, with my care, we’ll get you back into work straight away. We can’t keep those fans waiting.”

Betelgeuse sniggered.

“Yep, gotta keep the fans pleased, Lyds. Wouldn’t wanna disappoint the fans.”

“Lydia’s popular now,” said Robert, looking Betelgeuse up and down as though he were something unpleasant. “She needs equally popular people like me in her life. We match each other perfectly. She doesn’t need strange men like you.”

Betelgeuse gave a snort of laughter and shook his head. A few moments of awkward silence followed and Lydia finally spoke.

“Robert, I’m tired. Perhaps we could discuss any new assignments later?”

Forrester sighed and pocketed his phone.

“Fine,” he said. “But we’re taking that photo later. And I hope you’re turfing him out as well.”

He nodded at Betelgeuse. Betelgeuse grinned and shifted his gaze to Lydia. Then, he held his arms out.

“Want me to go, Lyds?”

Lydia shook her head, and Betelgeuse’s grin immediately widened.

“Ya hear that? She wants me to stay. See ya later, Robby!”

Forrester looked furious as Betelgeuse gave him a little wave and he quickly exited the room, muttering angrily under his breath. The ghost watched him leave, still smirking, and then shifted his gaze to Lydia.

“So,” he said. “You’re finally awake.”

“How long was I out for?”

“Couple of days. Your daughter called me…told me you fainted.”

“Did you manage to take the demon back to the afterlife?” Lydia asked, not wanting to think about her business partner flirting with the female spirit, but unable to resist asking what had happened in the aftermath.

“Yep, she’s permanently dead dead deadski. Gone forever.”

“I couldn’t help her,” Lydia said quietly, turning her face away from her business partner.

“No one could help her. It’s just the way it is.”

“I might have been able to, though, if you’d given me a chance.”

“I did give you a chance. Come on, Lydia. You can’t seriously think that you woulda been able to save her, do you?”

“Well, I’m never going to know now, am I? Because once again, you intervened. I mean, she couldn’t have been that dangerous if you were flir…”

Lydia caught herself in time. She wanted, so desperately, to confront Betelgeuse about his flirtatious remarks to the female demon, but she couldn’t…wouldn’t…let him know how those remarks had made her feel.

She couldn’t tell him how much it had upset her to hear him saying nice things to someone else, how much it had hurt after their argument.

But such feelings were her own fault. She had set the rules of the contract. She had made it clear that she did not want any more marriage attempts, romantic gestures, or inappropriate comments.

But she couldn’t deny that she was desperate, aching, for some sort of validation from him. For him to tell her that she had tried her hardest and that he was proud of her for her work on all those assignments.

She wanted him to compliment her.

She couldn’t deny it anymore. Out of all those people in the Lydia Deetz Appreciation Thread on Ghost House’s forum, it was him that she wanted to hear words of praise from the most.

Perhaps, she thought, his lack of praise had nothing to do with the rules she had set for their deal. Perhaps he wasn’t proud of her. Perhaps he considered all her attempts a failure, just like she did.

Lydia bit her lip hard. She wasn’t going to do it. She wasn’t going to cry in front of him. She was not going to give him any sign that she wanted nothing more than for him to comfort her in her tired, battered, and emotional state, and to tell her not to worry. To tell her how proud he was of his friend.

And that same thought entered her head again. The thought that he probably didn’t even consider her a friend at all. She had always been just a ticket to him. A way for him to get out into the living world.

Astrid seemed to think he cared about her, and for a moment, Lydia had believed that. But what if the reason he kept on saving her was because he just wanted to eventually achieve his goal of marrying her to get into the living world?

Her anxieties were at a high again, suffocating her, causing negative thoughts to circulate in her brain. She continued to bite her lip, her teeth digging into it so hard that it hurt.

“Lydia?”

She did not respond and instead kept her face turned away from him, desperately trying to hide it, trying to stop him from seeing the tears that had escaped her eyes and were now running down her cheeks.

“I just need a minute,” she finally managed to say. “Just a minute.”

She heard him move, and then he spoke.

“Got ya. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Then, he quickly disappeared. Lydia glanced at the spot where he had just been, watching the wisps of smoke dancing in the air.

Exactly one minute later, he reappeared with a bang, now clutching a coffee cup.

“Jesus!” Lydia said, wincing as the bang made her jump and quickly brushing away the stray tears.

“What?”

“Do you always have to appear suddenly like that?”

“You said to give you a minute, so I did,” he said with a deadpan expression as he set his coffee cup down, rolled up his sleeve and pointed at one of his watches.

Lydia rolled her eyes, and, despite her low mood, she couldn’t help but grin. He grinned back at her, then took a sip of his coffee.

“God, this tastes worse than the afterlife’s coffee,” Betelgeuse said, scrunching his face up at his coffee cup. “Want some?”

Lydia shook her head.

“I just want to go home,” she said. “I hate hospitals.”

“Well at least you’re gettin’ lots of care here. The facilities are much better than what I had when I was alive in the 1300s.”

Lydia turned to face him, her interest suddenly spiking as it always did whenever he talked about his living years. But he quickly changed the subject, which disappointed her.

“You should rest for a bit. Don’t do any new assignments for a while. I can keep busy with the bio-exorcist business. We can have a break.”

Lydia nodded at his words and suddenly wondered how long it would take for her body to recover before she was ready to do the next assignment. Would it be days? Months? She didn’t know. What she did know, though, was that she was starting to miss her business partner during the times when they weren’t working together.

She had tried to deny it, she really had. But the truth was, the need to continue working on assignments was now just as much about being able to spend time with Betelgeuse as it was about testing her abilities.

It was crazy to think that, just a couple of months ago, she had wanted him out of her life forever. Her thoughts drifted back to the night of the party again and how nice it had been sitting there and talking to him.

Lydia couldn’t lie to herself anymore. She enjoyed his company. She glanced over at him, watching as he took another sip of his coffee before pulling a face. Then, he set the cup down, pulled a cigarette out of his jacket and lit it with his thumb. Lydia’s eyes widened in horror.

“You can’t smoke that in here!”

He sniggered before taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out.

“Relax, these aren’t like the cigarettes that the living smoke, Lyds. They’re strange and unusual. Just like us.”

Lydia watched as he continued to smoke. He turned his head to the side and slowly blew out a smoke ring. The action did nothing to ease the fluttering feeling in Lydia’s stomach.

He leaned back in his chair, that damn nonchalant expression plastered on his face, his cigarette hanging from his mouth. Lydia swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling dry. Then, she turned away, feeling slightly panicked at the feelings that she was experiencing.

When, she wondered, had it started? When had she started looking at him differently? When had he stopped being the ghost that she had looked at with annoyance and, at times, even disgust?

When had his traits and his features started becoming appealing?

Attractive?

Lydia’s eyes widened. Wait…what? What the hell was going on with her brain?

She couldn’t be attracted to him…could she? Not actually attracted? As in, finding him attractive? It just wasn’t possible.

Was it?

She remembered having thoughts about him at the party. But she had put that down to the fact that he had looked strangely endearing in his outfit and the fact that she had been drinking copius amounts of alcohol.

But it wasn’t just at the party though was it, Lydia?

She scowled at the question that her brain had just asked her.

You’ve had thoughts like it since then, haven’t you? You thought about it the morning after the party and on the night of your dinner date with Forrester, too, didn’t you?

Lydia groaned inwardly and ran a hand over her face, before silently telling her brain to shut the hell up.

She stole another glance at him. He blew out another smoke ring, this time through the side of his mouth, giving Lydia a glimpse of the moss-free teeth that had become part of his disguise whenever he was in public. His nose, that damn nose with the bump on the bridge of it, gave a strangely adorable twitch as he did so.

Oh god.

Lydia swallowed again, her heart rate suddenly spiking.

The room suddenly felt incredibly warm.

This was because of her heavily medicated state. It had to be. The vision that she had experienced earlier, when Rory’s face had briefly replaced Robert’s, suddenly came into her head, and Lydia was actually thankful that it had, because she desperately needed something to distract her from the inappropriate thoughts that she was having about her business partner.

The hospital had given her too many drugs. That’s what this was.

It had to be.

She was not attracted to the damn ghost who had been haunting her for thirty-six years. The one who had tried to marry her…twice…to get into the living world.

She was not attracted to her business partner.

This was just a blip. A weird moment that she was experiencing because of the medication that was being put into her.

She needed to get better. She needed to recover so that they could just go back to working together, so that they could just have the tentative friendship that Lydia believed had formed between them.

She was not going to let this medication start giving her strange visions and thoughts.

She sat up and took a deep breath before breaking the silence.

“I need to go home,” she said. “I need them to stop giving me these meds.”

Betelgeuse threw his cigarette away and stared at her for a few seconds before responding.

“Why? You need 'em to help you get better.”

“R-Rory never believed that pills were good for me. He tried to throw them away in the trash.”

“He was also a lying piece of shit who wanted nothin’ but your money. And the fucker also enabled your pill habit by takin’ them with you.”

Lydia stared at him, and he quickly tapped his head.

“Psychic connection,” he said, before she could ask how he knew that she and Rory had taken pills together.

Lydia sighed.

“It’s just…a weird thing happened earlier,” she said, deciding that she would tell her business partner about the strange incident with Forrester and not mention the weird feelings that she had just been experiencing.

“I had a vision of Rory when I was talking to Robert. It was as though Rory had replaced him for a moment. They’re giving me way too many pills.”

Betelgeuse remained silent for a few moments. Then, he spoke.

“You need to take ‘em if it's helping to keep the pain at bay. Listen Lyds, I got somewhere to be. Call me when you’re back home and take it easy, yeah?”

Lydia nodded, and then he quickly disappeared. She frowned, confused at him leaving so suddenly, and lay her head on her pillow.

Then, she closed her eyes, her brain finally allowing her to relax and give in to her exhaustion.

***

Betelgeuse whistled as he sat in the Ghost House studio’s waiting area. When Astrid had summoned him, he had asked her to wait a few days before sending him back to the afterlife, not only so that he could visit Lydia in the hospital regularly but also because there was something that he really needed to do while he had the opportunity.

He grinned as he watched Forrester walking towards him. The fucker looked irate, which Betelgeuse was pleased about.

“What the hell do you want? I’m busy looking at the applications from new guests. I’m a busy man, so whatever it is you want better be worth my time.”

Betelgeuse continued to grin at him for a few seconds before responding.

“You and I need to have a little chat, pal. Ya see, I’ve got a suspicion about something…and I ain’t leavin’ here until you confirm it.”

Chapter Text

“If a living person were eaten by a sandworm on their own, then they would simply just die and end up in the afterlife as a regular ghost. But a living person that gets eaten at the same time as a soul sucker and undergoes the digestion process with her? Well, put it this way, Geuse, this guy probably now has powers that match your own. The problem is, we have no idea where he is. His death wasn’t registered down here.”

Betelgeuse grinned as he stared at Forrester, Wolf’s answer to his question circulating in his head. He studied the guy closely, his eyes raking over the producer’s black eyes, slicked back hair, and chiselled jaw.

His confident demeanour was the complete opposite of the wimpish behaviour that Betelgeuse had seen in the couples therapy session, but that could simply be another result of the transformation that he had undergone after the process of being eaten alive and digested with a soul sucker.

Betelgeuse had suspected it for a while. The way the guy had tried to control Lydia. His constant demands that she change her appearance. Him trying to make her dependent on him.

The signs were all there.

And once again, Lydia was oblivious to it.

This time, though, Betelgeuse wasn’t going to let her be deceived and used for this fucker’s own gain. Nope, that wasn’t going to happen. He would gladly die a second permanent death trying to protect her from the man who had almost succeeded in taking her money. Taking everything she had worked hard for.

“I haven’t got all day,” Forrester snapped. “What do you want?”

Betelgeuse continued to grin at him and glanced around the meeting room.

“Got a question for ya,” he said.

Robert glared at him.

“Well, make it quick, I’m a busy man. I need to get back to the hospital so that I can take Lydia’s photo. The fans are waiting to hear from her.”

Betelgeuse was silent as he fiddled with his signet ring for a few moments. Then, he spoke.

“How did it feel, Robert, when you were inside that sandworm’s stomach? ‘cause I gotta tell ya…speakin’ from personal experience, it ain’t pleasant. I just wanted to, ya know, talk about the experience. Share stories. Start being real pals.”

“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” snapped Robert, looking Betelgeuse up and down in disgust.

“Oh, I think you do. I know you’re in there.”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the crap. You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

“I really don’t, and you’re wasting my time.”

Betelgeuse laughed and shook his head.

“Lydia might not be able to see through you, but I can. And what I’m seein,’ hidden deep within in the body of some poor innocent fucker, is the ghost of a man who tried, and failed, to take everything from Lydia. You might be powerful this time round, and that’s my fault for settin’ the sandworm on both you and my soul sucking ex-wife, but you’re still not gonna succeed. You’re gonna fail again, just like you did the first time, because I’m gonna make sure you do.”

Robert was silent for a few moments. Then, he let out a loud, barking laugh.

“You’re batshit crazy,” he said. “You’re actually fucking crazy, aren’t you? Sandworm? Soul sucking ex-wife? It all sounds like something from a dream. You’re as batshit as she is after she’s had one too many pills.”

Betelgeuse’s grin faltered, and he clenched his fists.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he snarled. “Don’t you ever talk about Lydia like that.”

Forrester sniggered and leaned back in his chair.

“What the hell are you gonna do about it…Betelgeuse.”

There it was. The confirmation that Betelgeuse needed.

Lydia had never said his name out loud in front of Forrester, so there was no way that Forrester himself could know it. Rory, however, knew his name. He had been the one to summon him when they had been transported to the couples therapy office.

Betelgeuse sat there, glaring at him, while Forrester grinned unpleasantly at him.

“Oh, Lydia mentioned your name once. That’s how I know it.”

The fucker was still trying to deny it. Betelgeuse wasn’t stupid. He had seen the tiny flicker of recognition in Forrester’s eyes on the night of the party, despite Betelgeuse’s disguise.

“Bullshit,” Betelgeuse growled.

“Why is it bullshit? You’re her friend, right? It’s normal for friends to say each other’s names.”

“Yeah, but I ain’t a normal person, pal. You say my name three times, scary things happen. But you already know that, don’t you? Do you remember how you felt when you cowered behind that sofa in the therapist’s office when I… spilt my guts?”

Forrester shifted in his seat, and Betelgeuse could see that his confidence was slipping away.

With a snap of his fingers, his pinstriped suit disappeared and was replaced by his signature black and white striped suit. His hair sprang up from its slicked-back state, and the patches of moss slowly started to reappear.

He leaned back in his chair and held his arms out.

“Your turn,” he said. “Come on, don’t be shy. Show yourself. Come outta the poor guy whose body you’ve been using for months and show yourself in all your ghostly glory…Rory.”

“You really are batshit crazy,” said Forrester, but this time, the words lacked confidence. There was a flicker of panic in his voice, which caused Betelgeuse’s grin to widen.

“Did you watch the footage of Lydia being possessed by the demon? Did you see it being pulled right out of her by something? That was me. I pulled it out of her. And I’ll do the same to you. I’ll pull you right out and drag you back into the afterlife and right down to Hell if I have to.”

Forrester stood up with such force that the chair fell backwards onto the carpeted floor.

“You think you can just come in here and threaten me?” he said, waving a finger at Betelgeuse. “I’ll have you removed.”

Betelgeuse laughed and held out his arms.

“I’d like to see you try. But since I got the confirmation I was lookin’ for, I’ll leave you alone. But there’s somethin’ you should know…Lydia won’t be comin’ back to her job. I’m gonna tell her everything. You’re not gonna control her anymore, Rory.”

“I’m not Rory.”

“You’re a lyin’ piece of shit.”

Forrester stepped closer to Betelgeuse, his tall frame hovering over him.

"Prove it,” he said, the words coming out in almost a growl. "Oh that's right, you can't."

Within seconds, Betelgeuse had pinned him to the floor. Forrester grunted underneath the ghost’s weight and quickly turned his head to the side as Betelgeuse tried to push his hand down his throat.

But Forrester was a big guy, and the action of removing the ghost that was inside his body was much more difficult this time, far more difficult than when he had successfully pulled the demon out of Lydia’s small frame. Betelgeuse grunted as Forrester’s fist connected with his face. And then, without warning, the man disappeared from underneath him, before reappearing on the other side of the room.

“Teleportation,” Forrester said, grinning at Betelgeuse, who was wiping black blood from his split lip. “It’s a really handy skill to develop when you die, isn’t it?”

Betelgeuse immediately teleported over to where Forrester was standing, but Forrester quickly disappeared again.

“You know, it really is pathetic, seeing you trying to protect Lydia,” he said, as he reappeared on the opposite side of the room. “You disgust her, you know that? She doesn’t want your love or your protection. She doesn’t need you. She’s got me.”

“I ain’t lettin’ you get anywhere near her ever again,” Betelgeuse snarled.

“She’s nothing without me, and you’re not going to stop me from getting what I need from her.”

Betelgeuse was next to Forrester within seconds. He grabbed his shirt and slammed him into the wall.

“Listen to me, fucker,” he growled. “I know you’re in there. I got rid of you once, and I’ll do it again. Leave Lydia alone.”

“You can’t prove anything,” said Forrester, grinning. “No one will believe you. Lydia will never believe you. You see, Lydia has always been an easy one to control. I can do whatever I want with her. She’s my puppet. She was easy prey the first time, and she’s easy prey now. Ghost House is doing well, she’s making lots of money, especially now that she’s started wearing that sexy little low-cut dress. And once she’s made enough, it’ll all be mine.”

Forrester grunted as Betelgeuse pulled him away from the wall before slamming him into it again. But the producer never stopped grinning.

“I’m gonna do my absolute best to make her see what a worthless piece of rotting shit you are,” he said, his icy breath hitting Betelgeuse square in the face. “I’m gonna make her see that you’re the one who's not good for her. It’s gonna be so easy watching her fall even further into my trap. I’m gonna have a real good time when I finally get my hands on all that money.”

Betelgeuse couldn’t hold back anymore. His fist slammed into Forrester’s face, connecting with the producer’s nose with a sickening crack. He fell to the floor, but Betelgeuse didn’t stop.

All the anger, the pure rage that he was feeling, came tumbling out, and his fists continued to pound into every spot on the producer’s body that he could reach.

And Forrester’s grin never faltered.

His head moved from side the side as Betelgeuse’s fists connected with it, but each time, it snapped back into place, his grin simply growing wider as the sounds of the ghost’s solid, chalk white hands hitting his face filled the room.

Then, without warning, he disappeared from underneath Betelgeuse again, before materialising on the other side of the room.

“So violent,” he said, grinning and shaking his head, before bringing his fingers up to his mouth and smearing the blood that was seeping from his split lip across his face. He repeated the action with the trail of blood coming from his nose, smearing it around it to make the injury look much worse.

“Wait until Lydia sees what you’ve done to me,” he said.

“Fuck you,” growled Betelgeuse.

Forrester sniggered before quickly disappearing again. This time, he didn’t reappear, but Betelgeuse could feel him in the air.

The room was now stone cold, and a light flickered above him.

Then, suddenly, he was hit so hard by an invisible force that he fell backwards into the wall behind him. He gasped as an invisible weight pressed into him, and then Forrester reappeared on top of him, his hands around his throat.

“Listen to me, you ancient piece of shit,” he growled.

“You’re not going to breathe a word about any of our conversation to Lydia, you understand me? I’m going to visit her now and show her how badly you’ve beaten me up. It’s not going to take much to get her to listen to me. It never does. She’s so fucking easy to manipulate and that’s what I’m going to continue to do.”

Betelgeuse tried to teleport…but he couldn’t. What the fuck? He suddenly started to panic as he struggled against Forrester’s firm grip. Then, the producer leaned forward and began sucking the air around him, before placing his mouth over the ghost’s.

Betelgeuse’s eyes widened as he felt the air being sucked out of him, his dead lungs clenching as though they were going to shrivel up. Then, as quickly as it had happened, Forrester pulled away.

“Stay away from Lydia,” he growled. “Or I’ll dispose of you permanently. Like I said before, she doesn’t need you. You might think that you’re…what was it you called yourself? Nightmare material? But you aren’t. You’re a pathetic, ancient, lovesick ghost whose feelings will never be reciprocated. You stopped me from getting what I wanted from Lydia the first time, but you're not gonna stop me this time.”

Betelgeuse tried to push Forrester off him, but the guy wouldn’t budge.

“I’m going to give her more dangerous assignments,” Forrester continued. “And you can carry on helping her if you like. It's fine by me. You’re just helping her make more money for me.”

“Lydia won’t be taking on any more assignments,” Betelgeuse growled.

“Oh, she will. You see, she’s so desperate to make those all those people watching the show believe that she can help all the evil, nasty spirits out there. It really is quite pathetic. But hey, if her determination earns me more money, then why should I complain? I’m close to finally achieving my goal of getting my hands on her money. And believe me, pal, this time, you won’t stop me from succeeding.”

Betelgeuse tried to hit him again, but Forrester dodged it.

“I’m really glad we had this chat,” he said. “I feel like we’ve really made some progress, don’t you?”

Betelgeuse scowled at him and continued to struggle against his grip.

“So, just to make it clear, you won’t be telling Lydia about our conversation, and you won’t be interfering in her life any more. Get it through your ancient brain, she doesn’t and won’t ever want you. But I’ll allow you to keep saving her from all those nasty spirits. Like I said, it’s making more money for me.”

He finally let go of Betelgeuse and stood up, still grinning.

“Thanks for the powers. You really did me a favour setting that sandworm on me and your ex-wife.”

Then, he disappeared, leaving behind a small wisp of black smoke.

***

By the time Betelgeuse materialised in the hospital, now in his pinstriped suit again, Forrester was already by Lydia’s bedside. He stood outside the door and watched through the glass as Lydia’s expression morphed into one of concern, her hand reaching up to Forrester’s face to inspect his injuries.

He took a deep breath and pushed the doors open.

“…He just wouldn’t stop,” Forrester was saying in a fake, whiny tone.

Lydia was about to respond when she caught sight of Betelgeuse lingering by the door.

“Is this true?” she asked, frowning at him.

Betelgeuse’s gaze shifted to Forrester, who shot him a warning look.

“The fucker deserved it,” he said. “He was saying bad things about you, Lydia.”

“He’s lying,” Forrester quickly said. “He’s trying to turn you against me, Lydia. This man brutally attacked me for no reason.”

For a few seconds, there was silence as Lydia’s gaze shifted from Betelgeuse to the smeared dried blood on Forrester’s face. She frowned, and Betelgeuse’s mouth curved into a grin.

Hopefully, she was going to tell Forrester to leave.

But she didn’t.

Instead, her gaze shifted back to Betelgeuse, her face full of disappointment.

“You should go,” she said.

“What?”

“You need to leave.”

“But Lyds, he…”

“You’ve assaulted him. It wasn’t the answer. I don’t need this stress right now. Just go. I’ll…I’ll call you later.”

Betelgeuse looked at Forrester, whose grin immediately widened.

“You heard her. Leave.”

“I ain’t going anywhere,” Betelgeuse growled. “You need to listen to me, Lydia. This guy isn’t who you think he is. This isn’t Forrester…it’s Ro –”

“How many times,” said Lydia, “do I have to tell you not to interfere in my personal life?”

“But –”

“Look, let’s just discuss things later, yeah? I’m just…I’m tired right now, and the last thing I needed was you assaulting my manager. Just…please just leave.”

Betelgeuse’s dead heart clenched painfully against his chest, and he glanced at Forrester again, who grinned and gave him a little wave.

He teleported into his office.

And then he sat at his desk and placed his head in his hands.

What, he wondered, as his fingers tugged at his hair, was it going to take for Lydia to realise that she was being used again? That her deceitful ex-fiancé wasn’t going to rest until he had taken everything from her?

Betelgeuse couldn’t deny his shock at the transformation that had clearly taken place within that sandworm’s stomach. Gone was the wimpy Rory that had cowered at the sight of him, replaced by an evil, confident spirit that was determined to achieve his goal of taking Lydia’s money.

And Betelgeuse was the one responsible for it all. He had done him a fucking favour. Rather than killing him permanently, as Betelgeuse had hoped it would, setting the sandworm on him had resulted in him developing Delores’s soul sucking ability, as well as additional powers.

It was his fault that Rory had returned and was now ruining Lydia’s life again. He had exposed him in the church and tried to get rid of Delores by making Rory her new soulmate. And in the process, he had made things fucking worse.

If only he had known. He had been in the afterlife for six hundred years, and he had had no idea that a living person could become a highly powerful ghost when passing through a sandworm’s digestive system with another ghost.

Betelgeuse groaned and closed his eyes.

Rory’s words circled his brain.

“You’re a pathetic, ancient, lovesick ghost whose feelings will never be reciprocated.”

For the first time, Lydia’s terms for their deal hit him hard. The fucker was right. Lydia would never reciprocate his feelings. She had basically told him so when she had set the rules of the deal. No wedding attempts, no romantic gestures, and no inappropriate comments.

She would never love him.

And the realisation finally hit him, striking him hard in his dead heart and almost shattering it into pieces.

He had tried, tried so damn hard, to keep her safe and stick to their deal.

But Lydia had continuously rejected his actions and had been angry every time he had intervened. She was always pushing him away, an action which hurt, especially as he was starting to consider her a friend.

But Betelgeuse had never been one to give up. Especially when it came to Lydia.

He had spent more than thirty-five years trying to be a presence in her life. Trying to keep her safe.

And he wasn’t going to stop now.

He wasn’t going to stop interfering. He had caused this mess. Unknowingly, of course, but he had to be the one to get her out of it.

He was going to continue keeping her safe and rescue her from the clutches of her deceitful ex-fiancé, even if it killed him permanently.

Chapter Text

The meeting room felt smaller than usual. The cold air nipped at Lydia’s arms and hands, which were still covered in scratches. She wasn’t sure why she had agreed to come back to the studio with Robert after being discharged from the hospital. Was it out of pity for her manager, whom her business partner had just attacked? Or was it the need to prove that she could continue working despite not being in any fit state to?

Lydia wasn’t sure.

But as she sat there now, shivering and aching all over, she wanted nothing more than to go home and rest. And she was still consumed by anger at Betelgeuse for attacking Robert.

She had seen the things that her business partner was capable of. She had seen him in his snake form all those years ago, had watched as he had hurt her father and Otho. She had watched him use his powers many times. But she had never, not once, seen evidence of him being physically violent to anyone. Not with his bare hands.

So, when Robert had shown up at the hospital with his face covered in blood and told her that Betelgeuse had punched him repeatedly, Lydia had been shocked. She knew that Betelgeuse didn’t trust Robert. Lydia herself knew that there was something not quite right about him. But violence wasn’t the answer, and once again, Betelgeuse had interfered and taken matters into his own hands.

And once again, he wasn’t allowing her to take care of things herself. His constant interference, while endearing, was still annoying her, just like it had on the night when he had interrupted her dinner date with Robert.

She studied her manager, who was leafing through some documents and trying to select Lydia’s next assignment. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and his mouth curved into a grin as he selected a sheet of paper from the stack of documents.

“Robert, I know I agreed to come back here with you, but I really need to get back home and rest.”

“You can, as soon as we’ve discussed the next assignment. I’ve got one here. This will be great!”

Lydia sighed and took the sheet from him, her eyes raking over the details. She wanted, so badly, to prove that she could continue working. But the doctor and the nurses had advised her to rest. Her scan had, luckily, come back clear, but Lydia had expected that. She knew that the seizure she had suffered was a result of allowing herself to be possessed.

And as much as she wanted to continue testing her abilities, she knew that she needed to let her body rest and recover.

She shook her head and handed the sheet back to Robert.

“I’m not doing any more possessions at the moment. The doctor told me to rest.”

Robert took the sheet from her and shook his head.

“Oh Lydia, we’ve been through this. The show needs these assignments to get more viewers!”

“The viewing figures have increased. We’re doing fine.”

“But there’s always room for improvement. And you want to keep all those new fans of yours happy, don’t you? You want to keep me happy, don’t you? I just want what’s best for you, Lydia.”

Lydia let out a hollow laugh and tried to fold her arms but quickly dropped them to her sides as a sharp pain shot through her wound.

“If you wanted what was best for me, Robert, you would understand that my body needs time to recover. And if the fans had any respect for me, they would want that too.”

“But you need to show your fans that you appreciate them too.”

“There’s plenty of time for that after I’ve rested.”

Robert sighed, then stood up and picked up his chair, before placing it closer to Lydia. Then, he sat down and took her hands in his cold ones, his thumbs stroking her warm skin.

“Come on, Lydia, you’re doing so well. You’re finally popular! Don’t you want that?”

Lydia tried to pull her hands away, but his grip was too firm.

“Look, just take on a less physically demanding one for now, yeah? Something that’s more manageable. Tell you what, why don’t I let you select one?”

He reached across the table and held out the pile of documents to her. Lydia frowned. The gesture was surprisingly thoughtful. More like something that the old Robert would have done, the Robert that she had known before Rory’s…death? Disappearance? Lydia still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened to her deceitful ex-fiancé.

Hopefully, he was gone forever.

But as that thought entered her brain, she glanced up from the stack of documents and looked directly into Robert’s eyes, which were still black.

And it happened again.

His face morphed into Rory’s before changing back again.

Lydia let out a cry of shock and almost dropped the documents. She hissed as the same sharp pain from earlier shot up her arm as she tried to stop the papers from spilling onto the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Robert asked.

“You…your face...it happened again.”

“What did?”

“I…it’s nothing.”

“Come on, Lydia, you can talk to me.”

He reached forward and brushed a few stray hairs away from her face. “You know you can depend on me…”

Lydia swallowed hard, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to see Rory’s face again.

“I keep having visions of…of Rory.”

She looked at him then, curious to see his reaction. Robert studied her for a few seconds, before reaching out and stroking her face. His cold touch caused her skin to tingle, but not in a pleasant way.

“You’ve been having too many pills,” said Robert. “I miss him too, he was my wingman. A real great guy. But I don’t keep having visions of him. That’s because I’ve not spent the past day or two being pumped full of medication. You need to lay off the pills, Lydia.”

Lydia wanted to argue, wanted to tell Robert that she didn’t miss Rory at all, but she didn’t. Instead, she thought hard about Robert’s words, and her mind drifted back to the inappropriate thoughts that had gone through her head when she had watched Betelgeuse smoking in the hospital.

He was right. She needed to lay off the pills. She would go home, rest, and hopefully the visions would stop.

“How about you look through those?” Robert said, nodding at the documents, his voice dragging her out of her thoughts. “Oh, and I’ve got a brand new low-cut dress for you to wear. We need to keep that audience happy, don’t we?”

Lydia nodded slowly and looked down at the applications. She leafed through them, frowning. The recent episode, along with Julian’s footage on social media, had clearly caused an increase in demand for Lydia to be possessed so that she could connect living people with their dead loved ones. Almost every application had requested it. But then, towards the end of the stack, was an application that caught Lydia’s eye straight away.

It was from a middle-aged woman whose teenage daughter had died a couple of years ago. Lydia’s eyes raked over the details. The young girl sounded so similar to how Lydia had been when she had been a teenager.

Lydia wasn’t sure why, but she felt drawn to the assignment.

And then her eyes suddenly fixed on one particular detail.

The young girl had taken her own life.

Lydia’s heart rate started to quicken. This teenager, this young girl, had craved death. She had, according to her mother, wanted to get into the afterlife because she felt lonely…and because she felt a connection to ghosts.

Lydia’s breathing deepened as she digested the details, her mind drifting to her own teenage self and the morbid fascination that she had had with death.

The loneliness that she had felt…

Her desire to get in…

She had to take this assignment on.

“This one,” she said, handing the document to Robert. “I’ll do this one next.”

Robert studied the sheet and scoffed.

“I don’t know about this one,” he said. “It’s not going to make interesting viewing, Lydia. We need possessions. Evil spirits. Demons. Not some angsty teenage ghost.”

“Which was why I was thinking that I wanted to do this without it being filmed.”

Forrester's face fell, and his eyes immediately narrowed.

“We have to film every assignment that we decided to take on, Lydia. It’s part of the show’s policy. This woman has written to us asking for help. It’s not nice to deny her an appearance on the show, is it?”

“I-I just don’t want vulnerable ghosts being filmed. Especially a teenager. I want to help this woman connect with her daughter privately. Please, Robert.”

Forrester continued to stare at her, his eyes still flashing dangerously. But then, his features softened, and he nodded.

“Fine,” he said. “You can take this one without filming.”

Lydia’s mouth curved into a smile, but Forrester wasn’t done.

“On one condition…”

“Go on,” said Lydia, her smile faltering.

“You have to attend Ghost Con this year.”

Lydia’s smile completely disappeared.

Ghost Con was a yearly event that took place in an exhibition centre close to the studio. Fans would gather there and meet actors, directors and other famous people involved with horror movies and TV shows. Some of Ghost House’s crew attended every year, but Lydia had always avoided it. And Robert had always been respectful.

The only person who had ever tried to persuade her to attend the event was Rory.

“It’ll be great for the publicity!” he had said to her last year, just a few months before Halloween.

But Lydia had refused. Rory had sulked about it for a while, but it was the one thing that he had never managed to force her to do. Lydia had always been firm about it. She had always hated being recognised by people who watched the show. And she hated large crowds.

Attending a large convention, especially now that her popularity had increased, was her idea of hell. Such an event would do nothing to help her anxieties.

Robert had always been very respectful about it in the past, even telling Rory not to pressure Lydia into going. But now, as he sat next to her, his eyes flashed dangerously again, and Lydia felt an unpleasant gust of cold air hit her face.

“I…I can’t do that, Robert,” she said. “You know how much I hate conventions. You even backed me up once when Rory wanted me to go.”

“But Rory’s not here anymore, is he, Lydia? And don’t you think it would be nice for you to honour your amazing ex-fiancé’s memory?”

“I…”

“If you don’t go, then this assignment that you want to take on, the one with the teenage girl, will be filmed.”

Lydia’s heart sank. She wanted, so badly, to communicate with this teenager who sounded so much like her younger self. But she just couldn’t face going to a convention where she would have to spend an entire day signing autographs and being around large groups of people.

Lydia valued her privacy far too much for that.

And she also valued the privacy of the teenage ghost girl and her mother. This wasn’t something that should be televised.

“I guess I’ll just leave the assignment then,” she said sadly.

Forrester shook his head in disappointment.

“Such a shame,” he said. “All those fans who wanted to see you at the convention will be so let down.”

“You never cared about that before.”

“Sweetheart, you never had many fans before. Not until now. I’ve helped you gain a new following, thanks to that sexy low-cut dress you’ve been wearing. You really do owe it to the fans.”

Lydia looked at him, her heart hammering against her chest. Forrester took her hand in his and lifted his other hand to her face, forcing her to look him directly in the eyes.

“You owe it to me,” he said, his voice suddenly sounding different…

Like Rory’s…

Lydia’s breathing deepened as Rory’s face replaced Robert’s briefly again, and she let out a howl of frustration.

“It’s happening again,” she said, pulling her hand out of Forrester’s. “Your voice…your face…he…Rory…”

Forrester sighed before reaching down and rummaging through Lydia’s bag. Lydia watched, blinking back tears as her manager pulled out a paper bag. He rummaged around it, pulled out a bottle of pills and tossed the bottle across the room, where it landed in a bin.

“What…Robert, the doctor prescribed those! I need them!”

“No, you don’t,” said Forrester, leaning back in his chair. “You need to lay off them. Believe me, Lydia, it’s for the best. Pills were never good for you.”

There were a few moments of silence as Lydia stared at the now-empty paper bag.

“So, are you going to go to the convention? Remember, if you do, then I’ll allow you to handle the assignment in private. No filming. But if you don’t, then the assignment will be filmed. So, what will it be?”

“I…I already said that I’ll just leave the assignment. I won’t bother with it. It’s fine.”

“And I already told you that your fans will be disappointed if you don’t attend the convention. Not only that, but you’ll be letting that poor teenage girl down if you don’t take it on. It’s your choice, Lydia. But you will be disappointing a lot of people if you refuse to handle the assignment and refuse to attend the convention.”

Lydia’s palms felt sweaty, a sign that she was becoming overwhelmed with the situation. The thought of letting down the lonely teenage girl who reminded her so much of herself made her feel nauseous.

She had no choice but to say yes.

“Ok,” she quickly said. “I’ll go to the convention.”  

“Good girl!” said Robert, loudly clapping his hands together. “Oh, Lydia, this will be wonderful! I’ll make sure I’ve got that nice, low-cut dress ready for you to wear on the day.”

Before Lydia could respond, he exited the room, a wide grin on his face.

***

Anger was fast becoming Betelgeuse’s most prominent emotion.

And Lydia hated it.

She watched as he paced the kitchen and clutched her mug tightly. Warm drinks had always helped to soothe her whenever she was feeling anxious. Betelgeuse had made her the drink with a snap of his fingers, but the atmosphere had quickly turned sour when Lydia had told him about the assignment and the convention.

She was glad that, like last time when they had argued, Astrid wasn’t home.

“I can’t believe this,” her business partner said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’re doin’ this, Lyds.”

“I don’t have a choice,” said Lydia. “He says that we’ll have to film the episode if I don’t go to the convention. I don’t want that poor, vulnerable teenage ghost and her mother to be on television. And I can’t refuse to do the assignment, because I’ll be letting the mother and daughter down.”

“You realise he’s manipulating you, don’t you?” growled Betelgeuse. “Emotionally blackmailing you?”

“Robert is just trying to –”

“I got news for ya…it ain’t Robert. It’s Rory.”

Lydia frowned at him.

“I tried to tell you in the hospital. Been tryin’ to tell you for ages. But you kept interrupting me, refusin’ to listen. Robert is Rory, Lyds.”

Lydia shook her head.

“The visions I was having,” she said. “It was the pills.”

“It ain’t the pills!”

The words came out loud, Betelgeuse’s gravelly voice filling the room as he shouted them. “It’s Rory, Lydia. Please listen to me!”

“It was just visions!” Lydia argued, still clutching her cup, her heart hammering hard against her chest like it had during their last disagreement.

“It ain’t! I went to the studio and he confirmed it! The fucker even thanked me for setting the sandworm on him and Delores! He’s been taking pieces of your soul, Lyds. Tried to do it to me. I gave him what he deserved, though.”

“That’s right,” snapped Lydia. “You beat him up, didn’t you? Violence doesn’t solve anything.”

“Did you hear what I just said? Robert is being possessed. Rory is controlling him. Using his body as a fuckin’ puppet to achieve his goal of takin’ your money.”

Lydia shook her head.

“It’s…no. Rory is gone. If it were Rory, he would have haunted me directly, not used someone else to get to me. He would never think of targeting someone else. He was a weaselly, deceitful man who was terrified of anything related to ghosts.”

“Exactly,” said Betelgeuse. “He was that guy. He used to be a wimp. Not anymore. He underwent a transformation in the sandworm’s stomach. Has powers that almost match my own.”

But Lydia shook her head.

Betelgeuse had helped her many times, had spent years secretly helping her on the show. This idea of his…the idea that Rory was possessing Robert…was too far-fetched. Lydia suspected that it was Betelgeuse’s way of trying to get her to avoid doing any more dangerous assignments.

Another way for him to interfere in her life.

It was the pills.

The visions had been caused by the pills, and Betelgeuse was mistaken.

It had to be the pills. Betelgeuse had to be wrong.

There was absolutely no way that Rory would target Robert like that. They had been friends, almost best friends. He had always treated Robert with respect, a respect that he had never shown Lydia.

“You have to believe me, Lyds. Wolf told me about the transformation. His death hasn’t been registered down there yet. It all adds up.”

“I don’t need this,” said Lydia, feeling overwhelmed again. “I just…I just want to have a quiet life. I don’t need any of this.”

“So don’t have it then. Quit the job. Get the hell away from your ex-fiancé for good.”

“Stop telling me what to do!” snapped Lydia, bringing her fist down hard on the table and causing coffee to spill out of her mug and slop onto the surface. She stood up.

“I told you,” she said. “Not to interfere with my personal life! For more than thirty-five years you’ve stalked me, watching my every move. Interfering with my job! Turning up at my dinner date after not even bothering to speak to me for ages!”

“I was saving you!” Betelgeuse growled. “That fucker was telling you what to eat and drink, tryin’ to take a piece of your soul! I was doin’ you a favour!”

“I already told you that I can handle Forrester!”

Betelgeuse let out a hollow laugh and shook his head.

“Just like you handled Rory, right, Lyds? How long did it take you to figure out that he wanted your money? Oh, that’s right, you didn’t. I had to expose him in the church and get him to reveal his true intentions, because you were too stup –”

He quickly cut himself off, but it was too late.

The incomplete word hit Lydia straight in the gut, and she bit her lip hard.

“Too what? Too stupid? Is that what you were going to say?”

“I…”

“How could you? How could you say that to me? Rory’s deceit destroyed me, took away my confidence!”

“I know, that’s why I’m tryin’ to warn you, but you won’t listen!”

And Lydia indeed wasn’t listening. She stood there, still biting her lip hard, Betelgeuse’s words circling her brain.

Stupid.

He had almost called her stupid. It had cut through her like a knife. And Lydia knew exactly why that was.

It was because she blamed herself for allowing Rory to control her for so long. She had been angry at herself in the aftermath of his deceit, angry for refusing to see what Delia, Astrid and Betelgeuse had seen. She had felt ashamed.

Stupid.

And hearing Betelgeuse almost call her that word had hurt her far more than Rory’s actions had.

She couldn’t hold her tears in anymore. Her face crumpled, and she turned away from her business partner, not wanting him to see how upset she was.

“Lyds, I…”

“Just leave,” Lydia managed to say, her voice shaky. “Just go. And you don’t have to worry about accompanying me to my next assignment. I’ll deal with it alone.”

“I have to be there. It’s part of our deal, remember?”

“Fine.”

Betelgeuse looked at her sadly, and for a moment, Lydia thought he was going to reach out and comfort her.

And she wanted him to.

Despite her anger, she wanted him to hold her. To tell her that everything was ok. She wanted his words of praise, just like she had the other day.

She craved his friendship.

But Betelgeuse didn’t comfort her. Instead, he pulled his arm back, before disappearing. Lydia stared at the spot where he had just stood, tears streaming down her face as she watched the smoke swirling in the air.

Her phone rang and Robert's name flashed up on the screen.

Lydia didn’t want to answer, but Robert was persistent, and she knew that if she ignored it, he would simply bombard her with texts and emails. Trying to compose herself, she took the call.

“Robert, what’s up?” she said, her voice shaky.

“What’s wrong?” he said immediately.

“N-nothing,” she said. “It’s nothing. I just had a disagreement with a friend, that’s all.”

“Which friend? The guy who beat me up?”

Lydia wanted to say no, but the word wouldn’t come out. Her silence gave Robert his answer.

“I’ve already told you, Lydia, that you don’t need him anymore. He’s no good for you. He doesn’t care about you. He never will. I’m the one you need, the one you can depend on.”

Robert continued to talk, and the words drilled themselves into Lydia’s brain and buried themselves there.

And the more he continued to talk, the more she started to believe it.

She had set the rules of the deal to set boundaries, to make Betelgeuse understand that she didn’t want any more weddings, romantic gestures, or inappropriate comments from him. She hadn’t wanted any of that from him.

But since then, something had shifted. And no matter how much Lydia was trying to blame the pills, she couldn’t deny that she was starting to regret setting those rules.

And maybe Robert was right. Maybe Betelgeuse didn’t care about her. Maybe his act of haunting her for so long, interfering with her life for so long, and him trying to save her so many times was all just part of his plan to use her to finally achieve his goal of getting into the living world.

Maybe he had never cared about her at all.

Lydia couldn’t hold her tears in anymore, and she sobbed down the phone, trying hard, but failing, to hide it from Robert, who was muttering words of comfort.

“There there, Lydia, don’t cry. I’m here now. I’ll make everything better for you, I always do. You can always depend on me. Now dry those tears, because when you’re unhappy, it makes me unhappy. You don’t want me to be unhappy, do you…of course you don’t…”

And Lydia, in the state that she was in, was once again oblivious to her deceitful ex-fiancé’s actions, unable to see that her business partner was right, and that Rory was one step closer to achieving his goal of taking everything from her.

She was unable to see that he was successfully ripping her and Betelgeuse apart, fracturing their already tentative friendship, and making her more and more vulnerable and dependent on him as the days went on. She was oblivious to the fact that he was deliberately giving her visions of himself with the intention of making her believe that the pills were responsible, and that eventually, he would make her question her sanity...

Rory knew that this next assignment was going to weaken Lydia’s mental health, and he knew how challenging the Ghost Con event would be for her.

And as he spoke to her over the phone right now, Lydia was unable to see his mouth curving into a smile at the sound of her muffled sobs.

She had no idea that he was already making plans for Ghost House’s finale, and that he was planning to give the audience one hell of a show by getting rid of her business partner once and for all…

Chapter Text

It takes a lot to frighten those who are already dead, but Betelgeuse’s skeleton workers all jumped in shock as their boss suddenly materialised in the office and slammed his fist down on his desk. George, whom Betelgeuse was growing rather fond of, approached him, and despite the lack of expression on the skeleton’s face, his gesture of placing his bony hand on the ghost’s shoulder told Betelgeuse that his lead worker was concerned about him.

“What have I gotta do to make Lydia listen to me, George? What the hell is it gonna take?”

George didn’t reply and instead patted his boss’s shoulder.

Despite his anger, Betelgeuse kind of understood why Lydia was in denial. Her experience with Rory had turned her into an anxious mess, and he knew that there was a big part of her that just didn’t want to believe that he was back again.

Betelgeuse groaned and raked his hands through his hair, making the wild strands even messier. He shouldn’t have almost uttered the word “stupid” during their argument. That had been a huge mistake. Lydia was probably already blaming herself for being oblivious to Rory’s intentions the first time around.

And such feelings were very familiar to Betelgeuse, because he had felt the same after his experience with Delores. When he had first entered the afterlife, he had been apoplectic with rage. Consumed by anger.

And that anger had not been directed at Delores, but at himself.

He had blamed himself for being stupid enough to fall in love with her and not realise that she was using him. It had taken him a long time to get over that anger. And eventually, Betelgeuse had come to realise that it wasn’t his fault. Delores, like Rory with Lydia, had simply preyed upon his vulnerability.

His heart had withered as he had tried to get through life as a grave robber during the Black Plague. Most people would disapprove of grave robbing. Not that Betelgeuse gave a fuck. Back then, he had done whatever he could to survive. But his quirks and his questionable job meant that he had had very few friends. It had been hard living such a lonely life, and such loneliness had opened a wound.

And had made him an easy target.

Easy prey.

Delores had closed that wound, then ripped it open again when she had deceived him.

It had only been a couple of months since Betelgeuse had given Rory the truth serum that had forced him to reveal his deceit in the church. The aftermath of it was all still too raw for Lydia, and Betelgeuse understood that. It had taken him years, centuries, to get over what Delores had done to him.

The wound that had been ripped open had taken a hell of a long time to heal.

But he would never let himself be deceived again, and when Wolf had told him that Delores was roaming around in the afterlife looking for him, he had taken immediate action and started trying to protect himself. True, she hadn’t been using someone else to deceive him like Rory was doing to Lydia, but still, he would never allow himself to be targeted by her ever again. He had learned from his initial mistake.

And this was why he felt angry at Lydia.

He understood her denial, but it was frustrating. She knew that there had been an obvious change in Robert’s behaviour. The signs that he was being possessed by Rory were all there.

The constant need to control what she wears.

Making her dependent on him.

Making her believe that she didn’t need anyone else.

Giving her visions of himself and making her believe it was her medication.   

It was obvious. And yet Lydia just couldn’t, wouldn’t, see it. And she was refusing to let Betelgeuse help her. He was being pushed away because she was so desperate to prove herself, desperate to show that she could take on all of those dangerous assignments and gain back the confidence that Rory had ripped from her.

And Betelgeuse couldn’t give her compliments, couldn’t say anything that Lydia may deem inappropriate, because of the damn contract.

It was infuriating.

But Betelgeuse would not give up. He couldn’t give up.

Because, despite Lydia making him want to tear his hair out in frustration, he still loved her. And he wasn’t going to let that fucker achieve his goal of taking everything away from her.

Fuck’s sake, Geuse, you’ve got it so bad for her.

He sat back in his seat and sighed as he ran a hand over his face, suddenly longing for the simpler days when he had no one to care about but himself.

***

The house was surprisingly warm. There was no evidence at all to suggest that it was haunted, but Lydia knew that there was a spirit nearby, because despite the warmth, a sadness hung in the air. The melancholic atmosphere did nothing to soothe Lydia’s low mood. She knew that her body was still recovering, but she wanted so desperately to help this teenage girl who had reminded her so much of her younger self.

She could feel her business partner lurking nearby. She knew he was watching her, like he always did during her assignments. Lydia still felt hurt and angry at what he had said to her during their last argument, but she couldn’t think about that now. She had to focus on her job.

She studied the photographs that lined the walls of the corridor leading to Ellie’s bedroom. It felt strange walking through a home without Andy’s camera following her, but Lydia was glad that the assignment wasn’t being filmed.

Ellie’s mother, Sarah, had explained to Lydia before she had entered the house that Ellie had taken her own life in the park opposite the house. Lydia knew that the majority of ghosts could only haunt the area in which they had died. Sarah had not felt Ellie’s presence directly in the home, but there had been reports of the park being haunted since her death.

“It’s probably just kids making things up,” she had said to Lydia before the investigation. “But I went there once and sat on one of the swings. Ellie loved the swings. She loved them right up until her death, even though she was older than most of the other kids in the park. She would sit on one of them most nights, writing in her diary.”

She had paused and taken a deep breath at this point and had reached for Lydia’s hand.

“I thought I could feel her. The air was so…so cold. And I felt so sad. I know that she had this strange fascination with death, but I just need to understand. I want closure. Please help me.”

And then, Sarah had told Lydia to go to Ellie’s bedroom and look through her diary. Lydia had been reluctant, but she knew that she had to follow through with the request. Sarah had written to the studio asking them to help, and Lydia felt that she owed it to her.

But now, as she looked at the photographs on the wall, she felt nervous. Anxious. The sixteen-year-old girl looking out of each photo looked so much like Lydia when she was that age. Thick, black hair hung to Ellie’s shoulders, her spiky, choppy fringe sitting high above her eyebrows. Lydia could see the sadness behind the girl’s weak smile, a smile that had been forced for the camera.

Lydia knew the feeling all too well. The constant need to paint on a smile when feeling sad and lonely. The pressure to be someone she wasn’t whenever a camera was whipped out by a family member.

Sarah’s beaming face in the photographs added to Lydia’s sadness. Her heart ached as her thoughts drifted to her own mother. Lydia had been forced to spend her childhood without her, and although Delia had eventually come along, her stepmother had not been the strong mother figure that she had been in Lydia’s adult years. Instead, their relationship had been strained, which had added to Lydia’s loneliness.

Delia’s artistic ambitions, along with Charles’s hobbies and his constant striving for a peaceful life, had overshadowed Lydia’s needs, and Lydia had often been forced to deal with any problems on her own. If it hadn’t been for the Maitlands coming into her life, Lydia wouldn’t have had anyone to help her through the difficulties that she had faced during her teenage years.

Her hand clasped the door handle, and Lydia took a deep breath as she entered Ellie’s bedroom. The room was dark, the only source of light being the small slivers coming through the window. Particles of dust danced in the air where the light shone on them, and Lydia guessed that Sarah must have left Ellie’s room untouched since the teenager’s death.

The décor was simple, with a desk, a wardrobe and a single bed. Posters of gothic rock bands covered the walls, and the single shelf positioned above the desk was lined with strange-looking ornaments and textbooks that would never be used again.

Lydia walked slowly over to the desk and pulled open the top drawer, upsetting the dust that had settled there and causing the particles to fly into the air. She immediately located Ellie’s diary and pulled it out.

Clutching the small, black book, Lydia sat down on Ellie’s bed and started leafing through the pages, before taking a deep breath and shutting it. Being a mother herself, the adult Lydia completely understood Sarah’s need to know why her daughter had chosen to end her life. The teenage Lydia, however, would have hated the intrusion. It was a complete invasion of Ellie’s privacy.

But despite her hesitation, Lydia felt curious. And as she finally opened the book and started reading, she quickly discovered that the similarity between her younger self and Ellie wasn’t small.

Ellie had wanted to get in.

She had wanted to enter the afterlife, just like Lydia had.

Because Ellie, like Lydia, had had the ability to see ghosts.

And like Lydia, Ellie had befriended a ghost as a living person. Lydia quickly learned, through reading the entries in the diary, that Ellie had been a lonely goth girl. The ghost had been her best friend and the only person who had understood her. Ellie had wanted to get out of the living world so that she could be with her ghost friend forever.

I just wanted the pain of the loneliness to stop, she had written. I felt utterly alone.

Lydia’s heart clenched painfully.

Utterly alone.

The same words that Lydia had written in her own suicide note.

By the time you read this, I will be gone, having jumped plummeted off the Winter River bridge.

Lydia bit her lip hard, trying to tear her thoughts away from the note that she had written all those years ago, and her eyes raked over Ellie’s diary entries again.

No one understands me. No one gets me. No one knows what it’s like to be able to see ghosts everywhere. Mom’s always busy and never listens to me. The only people who understand me are the dead…

Lydia thought of the Maitlands again, then, and how the young ghost couple had treated her like a daughter and given her the attention that she had craved from her father and Delia. Adam and Barbara had never judged her like living people did. Never made fun of her obsession with death. They had accepted her for who she was.

And then her thoughts drifted to Betelgeuse, who she knew was lurking nearby. There was no visual sign of him. No tiny bugs or black and white striped objects. But she could feel him in the air.

She didn’t want him to see her like this, in a vulnerable state, reading the diary of a teenager who was so much like her younger self. She didn’t want him to see her getting upset when the friendship that she had wanted them to have was so close to breaking.

Lydia stood up and placed the diary back in the drawer. She had seen enough. Ellie was simply a young girl who had given in to her morbid curiosity about the afterlife and had taken her own life to be with her ghost friend and escape the crushing loneliness of the living world.

But why, Lydia wondered, was the ghost of the young girl still lurking around in the park? Why hadn’t she gone into the afterlife to be with her ghost friend, when that’s what she had desired so much?

Lydia walked over to the window and looked out, watching as the teenager gently moved back and forth on the swing. The movement caused an eerie creaking sound to drift in through the open window and Lydia wondered why Sarah had left it open in such cold weather.

The harsh winter breeze blew dead leaves around Ellie’s feet, and when she eventually looked up and met Lydia’s eyes, her expression was full of sadness. Lydia’s heart clenched painfully, and she bit her lip hard again, trying hard not to cry.

Within fifteen minutes, she had exited the house and joined Ellie on the swings.

“So, your mom tells me that you could see ghosts when you were alive,” she said, smiling at Ellie’s shocked expression.

“No need to look alarmed, I can see ghosts too. I started seeing them when I was around your age.”

Ellie didn’t respond. Her sad eyes were still fixed on Lydia, and Lydia turned away, not wanting to accidentally catch sight of the wounds on the teenager’s grey skin that would tell her how the young girl had chosen to end her life.

“I…I wanted to get into the afterlife, too,” she said. “But I didn’t get in…obviously.”

Ellie finally spoke.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why did I want to get into the afterlife? Or why didn’t I get in?”

“Why didn’t you?”

Lydia’s thoughts drifted back to that evening all those years ago, when she had walked into the attic clutching the note. She had met Betelgeuse and he had distracted her…

But had he been the one to stop her? If she had said his name three times like he wanted her to that evening, would he have helped her to end her life?

Lydia wasn’t sure.

It wasn’t her own father or Delia who had stopped Lydia from dying prematurely like Ellie had done. It had been Barbara, a ghost. Lydia remembered how horrified the young ghost woman had been when Lydia had told her that she wanted to get into the afterlife. Barbara had been supportive and had given Lydia the attention that she never got from Charles or Delia.

And for that reason, Lydia completely understood Ellie’s desire to be with her ghostly friend. When she had seen the family photographs, Lydia had felt envious of Ellie for having a mother around, but she quickly learned upon reading the girl’s diary that Sarah, like Delia and Charles, had been busy and hadn’t given her daughter the attention she had needed. And so Ellie, like Lydia, had turned to ghosts.

She finally gave Ellie the answer to her question.

“I had a couple of ghost friends. They talked me out of it. They…they were like parents to me. They’re gone now. They were supposed to remain in their home for a long time, but they found a loophole and moved on. I still miss them.”

“So, they left you in the end,” said Ellie, looking down. “They moved on and left you behind.”

Lydia closed her eyes. Talking about Adam and Barbara moving on was always painful, but Lydia knew it was selfish of her to want them to stick around when the two ghosts had found an opportunity to go to their final destination. A destination that Lydia had since learned was The Great Beyond.

“They had to,” she said. “It was just their time. And you should move on, too. Why are you still here? If you wanted to get into the afterlife to be with your friend, why are you still hanging around here?”

Ellie was silent for a few moments before responding.

“I don’t want to leave my mom. She looks so sad without me. I thought she didn’t care about me, but now I realise that she did. But I also don’t want to let my ghost friend down either, so I feel kind of stuck. I'm not sure what to do. But he’s waiting for me in the afterlife. He says he’ll always wait for me.”

The words reminded Lydia of that moment a few months ago, when Betelgeuse had serenaded her...

Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you.

Lydia pushed the thought out of her head and responded.

“I think your mom just wants you to be happy. I’d let you possess me so that you could talk to her, but my body is still recovering from being possessed by a demon.”

“Possessed by a demon? That’s so cool! What happened? I want to hear all about that! Sorry, I have a weird obsession with death and ghosts. When I was alive, people used to say I was strange and unusual…I just really want to know what it was like…”

Lydia smiled, all too familiar with such feelings of curiosity.

And then she told her.

***

Betelgeuse didn’t show himself in the aftermath, and Lydia guessed that he was waiting for her to call him. But his absence still hurt.

She closed her eyes as she sat on the sofa, feeling exhausted from the day’s events. The discussion between her and Ellie had continued for another hour, and Lydia had, eventually, persuaded the girl to go into the afterlife and join her ghost friend.

Lydia had explained Ellie’s reasons for ending her life, and Sarah had been grateful that Lydia had helped her daughter to move on to the place where she had so desperately wanted to be, not wanting the teenager to be stuck in the park for years and years.

The assignment had gone well, but it had left Lydia emotionally drained. Astrid was out and after a day of being forced to think about all the feelings she had experienced as a teenager, all the feelings of loneliness and her desire to end her life, Lydia was craving comfort.

She was hurt that Betelgeuse, who would usually give an obvious sign that he was lurking nearby during each assignment, had been so quiet. Was he still angry at her for not believing his words about Rory? Lydia wasn’t sure.

But as she thought of Ellie and her ghost friend who had been waiting for her in the afterlife, Lydia felt envious. The realisation that she didn’t have a best friend whom she could talk to suddenly hit her. She was fifty-two, and she had no one.

There was, of course, Astrid, but the teenager needed friends her own age. The last thing she needed was her strange and unusual middle-aged mom being desperate for her friendship.

Lydia sighed, suddenly wishing that her eccentric stepmother hadn’t got on the Soul Train. It was selfish of her to feel that way, she knew that, but she missed Delia so much. Losing her father and her stepmother so close together had been devastating. She wished that they were both still here, pursuing their hobbies. Even if she didn’t have their full attention, it would just be nice to have someone, anyone, in the house so that it didn’t feel so empty.

So that she didn’t feel so empty.

Damn it.

Lydia wiped her eyes, the feelings of loneliness suddenly crushing her. Betelgeuse’s half-muttered word during their argument entered her mind again, adding to the hurt.

Stupid.

Maybe, she thought, he was avoiding her because he didn’t care about her, just like Robert had said he didn't. She pulled out her phone, desperate for company. So desperate, in fact, that she considered phoning her manager.

But she didn’t phone Robert.

Instead, she put her phone away and pulled out the mirror Betelgeuse had given her.

And she called him.

He was there in seconds, his features softening at the sight of Lydia’s crumpled face.

“The assignment…it…I just feel...”

Lydia’s words came out strained, her voice shaking.

“I know.”

“What would have happened? What would have happened if I had said your name three times that night? Would you have helped me to get in? Would you have helped me to enter the afterlife?”

Betelgeuse studied her for a few moments before speaking.

“Honestly, Lyds, I don’t know.”

Lydia was silent, no longer bothering to hide the fact that she was crying.

“Would we have become friends, do you think? If I’d…if I’d ended my life, if I had got into the afterlife all those years ago, would we have been friends?”

Betelgeuse looked at her then, his expression soft, and he let out a chuckle.

“Well,” he said. “We’re both strange and unusual, so maybe.”

Lydia let out a small sob.

“Sometimes I just wish…it sounds pathetic.”

“Go on,” the ghost said, his gravelly voice gently coaxing.

“I just wish I had a friend.”

Betelgeuse didn’t respond. Instead, he continued to look at her, his head tilted to one side, his expression still soft. Almost as soft as it was in the church when they had danced together.

And then he sat next to her.

Lydia wanted, so desperately, for him to put his arm around her, but she knew he wouldn’t. Knew he couldn't, because of the rules. Her own damn rules, that she had demanded to be part of their deal.

And he didn’t.

Instead, he gently reached out and tilted her face up, so that her warm, brown eyes met his blue ones.

“Well, I’m right here,” he said softly. “And I’m sorry for hurtin’ you, for almost callin’ you stupid. I just wanted to warn –”

But Lydia shushed him, not wanting him to talk. All she wanted was his touch. His closeness.

And despite trying her hardest not to, Lydia reached up and placed her small hand over his much larger one and held it to her face, savouring the feel of his cool skin against her warm cheek.

Despite their argument, despite Rory’s plan to tear them apart, which Lydia was still oblivious to, nothing would ever part them. Betelgeuse, Lydia realised at that moment, was the only person who had remained by her side for most of her life.

For thirty-six years.

He would never leave her, even if she wanted him to.

And right now, despite her anger at him for interfering in her personal life, despite her desire to want to prove that he didn't need to keep saving her, she didn’t want him to leave. She wanted him there.

All the stresses of the day, all the problems that she needed to deal with, all her worries about Robert's strange behaviour, had completely melted away the moment Betelgeuse had touched her.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he asked, as his thumb moved dangerously close to her mouth.

The contract hadn’t broken. Not yet.

“Yeah,” Lydia replied, a little too breathlessly. “But not The Exorcist. Anything but The Exorcist.”

Chapter Text

The realisation of what Lydia had agreed to do hit her hard when she woke the morning after the assignment. Her stomach churned unpleasantly, and she sat up, taking deep breaths to fight the waves of nausea.

She hated large crowds.

Ghost Con, the fan convention that she had agreed to attend, was fast approaching. She sighed and ran a hand over her face, wondering if there was any way she could avoid it.

Her thoughts drifted back to last night, her mouth curving into a small smile as she thought about Betelgeuse’s response to her telling him that she needed a friend. His gesture of sitting next to her, of reassuring her that he was there, had been a sort of confirmation for Lydia that their business partnership had developed into friendship.

Lydia brought her hand up to her face, her skin still feeling as though it was tingling from Betelgeuse’s touch. She had simply needed comfort, that’s what it was.

It was all about friendship. Nothing to do with attraction at all. At least that’s what she kept trying to tell herself. She was simply touch starved and had craved comfort after a hard day. She knew that Betelgeuse couldn’t give her that, though, because of the boundaries that she had put firmly in place for their deal. She hadn’t been expecting any kind of physical gestures from him at all.

So when his fingers had lightly touched her face and tilted her head up, his blue eyes meeting her brown ones, Lydia had felt an instant bolt of something run through her. His touch had been electric, sending waves of something, something that Lydia was trying to push out of her mind, right through her.

She hadn’t been able to resist placing her hand over his and holding it there.

But it wasn’t attraction. Lydia had already told herself, many times, that any attraction was simply a result of the medication she had been taking. A blip in her brain.

Nope, she wasn’t attracted to her business partner at all.

No one else’s touch has ever made you feel like that, though, has it?

Lydia closed her eyes in frustration as the question entered her brain.

“Don’t start,” she snapped, refusing to argue with her own mind so early in the morning. “It isn’t attraction, so shut the hell up.”

“Mom? Are you ok? Who are you talking to?”

Astrid’s voice travelled through the bedroom door.

Lydia groaned.

“Just telling my brain to shut up. Nothing to worry about. How about pancakes for breakfast?”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

***

They sat at the kitchen table, eating their pancakes in comfortable silence. Astrid placed the last piece into her mouth and chewed for a few seconds before taking a sip of coffee. Finally, she broke the silence.

“You two looked like you were having a nice evening last night. Very cosy.”

“We were just watching a movie. That’s all it was,” said Lydia, stabbing a piece of pancake with her fork and waving it around as she spoke. “Not a big deal.”

“If you say so. How’s the business partnership going?”

Lydia rolled her eyes as Astrid made a gesture with her fingers to indicate quotation marks on the words “business partnership.”

“It’s going fine,” she said. “Everything is fine.”

She swallowed her pancake and glanced up at Astrid, who was staring at her with one eyebrow raised. Lydia sighed and placed her fork down.

“What?”

“When someone says that everything is fine in the tone that you’ve just said, it means that things aren’t, in fact, fine. So what’s happened?”

Lydia closed her eyes, not wanting to tell Astrid about Betelgeuse’s suspicions. But she knew that it would be revealed eventually.

“He thinks that Rory is back, that he’s possessing Robert.”

Astrid’s eyes widened.

“What?”

Lydia shook her head, not wanting to discuss it, but she knew that Astrid wasn’t going to let the subject drop now that it had been mentioned.

“Do you think he’s right?” the teenager asked.

“I…honestly? No, I don’t.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I…”

Lydia didn’t know what to say. The truth was, she couldn’t be sure. But she knew it was highly unlikely. If Rory was dead, then he wouldn’t be the type of guy to possess someone and relentlessly haunt her. He was far more likely to be in the afterlife, cowering at the sight of all the other ghosts.

The Rory that she had known had been the kind of guy who would jump at the sound of anything. A total wimp. Lydia couldn’t help but smirk as she thought back to how he had reacted to Betelgeuse in the couples therapy office. He had looked terrified.

“You're just my unpacked trauma. You're a figment of my imagination.”

Lydia snorted as she thought back to his words and his reaction to the tentacles that had burst out of Betelgeuse’s face.

“What?” Astrid asked, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Lydia chuckling to herself.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how Rory reacted to seeing…Betel…you know…for the first time. He was so scared of him, talking about how he was his unpacked trauma.”

Lydia let out a hollow laugh and shook her head.

“Unpacked trauma. What a joke. He didn’t have any trauma at all. He was just making it all up to deceive me. He was genuinely terrified, though. I just can’t see Rory being the type to become a smart, evil spirit.”

“Yeah, the guy was an absolute loser. A total wimp. But…it could still be possible, Mom.”

“He said that Rory has gone through a transformation in the sandworm, but I don’t believe it.”

Astrid was silent, and Lydia could see that she was thinking hard about something. After a few moments, she spoke.

“Maybe you should listen to him. He might be right.”

But Lydia shook her head in disagreement.

“Come on, Mom. You two are pretty much friends now, right?”

Lydia’s gaze quickly met her daughter’s, and she nodded.

“Yes, just friends.”

“So, what’s the problem? Why can’t you just listen to him? Just hear him out?”

Lydia didn’t respond straight away. Initially, when Betelgeuse had told her that he believed Robert was being possessed by Rory, she had suspected that it was his way of trying to get her to stop doing dangerous assignments.

But now, as she sat there, a much darker reason entered her mind. A reason that was probably a result of her overly anxious brain, but one that she knew she needed to explore.

And when she finally responded, her words were strained, because if it was for that reason, then Lydia knew she would never be able to recover from it.

“Maybe he’s trying to trick me.”

“Who? Rory or your business partner?

“My business partner.”

Astrid stared at her in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.”

Lydia took a deep breath, trying to fight the waves of nausea sloshing around in her stomach.

“It’s just…we don’t have the best history, Astrid. And yeah, we’ve formed a friendship. But what if…what if he’s trying to make me believe that Rory’s back again as part of his plan to make me get closer to him to achieve his goal of finally marrying me and getting into the living world?”

Astrid was silent for a moment. Then, she shook her head and laughed.

“You really still believe that he’s a trickster demon?”

Lydia sat back in her chair and sighed. The truth was, her trust in people had been completely shattered after Rory’s deceit, and while Betelgeuse had always gone through with his end of the deal, Lydia still wasn’t sure if she completely trusted him. His gesture the previous evening and his kind words had made her happy, but what if he really did still want to use her to get into the living world?

He had, for so many years, been keeping her safe. But what if it had all been part of a plan to finally make her his wife? Lydia had been surprised at how affectionate he had been in the church, baffled by the gentleness that he had shown her. She had, momentarily, wondered if he did actually have feelings for her, and when they had first discussed the deal, she had wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t do anything like that again.

She wasn’t disgusted by his actions in the church, just simply confused, and she had wanted to make it clear that she didn’t return his feelings and therefore didn’t want any more wedding attempts, especially not if his reason for wanting to marry her was partly out of love.  

But that had been back then.

And within the space of a couple of months, after weeks of working together, weeks of having what Betelgeuse called “training sessions", and his thoughtful gestures on those evenings that she had been drunk and exhausted, something had changed.

Lydia had gotten to know him. She had started to notice things about him. His unique features, that damn nonchalant behaviour that was infuriatingly endearing, the lop-sided grin that he always gave her whenever he was trying to persuade her to do something or to get her attention.

The way he smoked.

She quickly pushed that image out of her mind, the one of him with the cigarette dangling between his lips in her hospital room, once again blaming the medication that the doctors and nurses had filled her up on. And not for the first time that morning, she told herself that it wasn’t attraction and that she was only finding it hard to stick to her own rules that she had set for the contract because she was lonely and just wanted friendship.

And Betelgeuse, despite all the bad things he had done, had definitely proven that he could be a pretty decent friend.

But Lydia still couldn’t bring herself to completely trust him. She was an anxious mess. And right now, there were few people whom she trusted.

“I don’t know,” she finally answered, the honesty in her own words hurting her.

She wanted to trust Betelgeuse, she really did. He had done so much for her. But that didn't change his end goal. The second marriage attempt had been slightly more bearable than the first, Lydia couldn’t deny that, but he had still wanted to achieve his goal of marrying her so that he could get into the living world. Not only for freedom, but also to escape Delores.

Whether there were any feelings involved or not, that was always his main goal.

And Lydia was now worrying, as she sat there frowning at her cup of coffee, that his warning about Rory had come with an ulterior motive. That he was simply trying to make her turn to him so that he could eventually achieve his goal of marrying her to get out of the afterlife. After all, the main reason he had gotten rid of Rory in the church was so that he could get him out of the way and go through with the wedding. Finally get his hands on that freedom that he wanted.

Love, Lydia realised at that moment, hadn’t played a part in it at all.

Betelgeuse didn’t love her.

And for reasons that she didn’t want to think about, the thought of that hurt.

Astrid must have seen the look of anguish on her face because she reached out and took her hand.

“Mom, you…you should listen to him. I know you have history and that he’s done some bad things, but he…he saved me. He helped us. And I…”

Astrid’s words trailed off, and Lydia looked at her, frowning.

“What?”

“I really do think that he’s fond of you. Really fond of you. He seemed really concerned that night when I summoned him and told him you were on a dinner date with Robert.”

“I…”

“You have to let people care about you, Mom. Not every guy will turn out to be like Rory. You have to learn to trust again. When Jeremy…”

Astrid took a deep breath, and Lydia felt her heart break for her daughter, who, like Lydia, was still recovering from being a victim of cruel deceit.

Astrid composed herself and continued speaking.

“When Jeremy tricked me, I thought I’d never trust a boy again. It’ll probably take a lot of time before I do, but I know I have to learn to. I have to get through it. And in some ways, I have. The boy whose house I went to the other week to study with…the one you were worried about me hanging around with…it was a huge step for me to do that. But I did it. I’m slowly learning to get back that trust that I lost in people.”

Lydia reached up and wiped away the tears that had formed during Astrid’s words. It was the first time that her daughter had properly opened up about her experience with Jeremy.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said softly.

Astrid smiled in response.

“I know you can learn to trust again, too, Mom. Just…just talk to your…business partner. Don’t push him away.”

Lydia gave a weak smile in response before taking a sip of her now cold coffee, wishing that she could switch her anxious brain off.

***

The Lydia Deetz appreciation thread had now reached over three thousand posts. Lydia's eyes raked over RedSupergiant’s responses, which had become particularly complimentary over the past few days.

Whoever this person was, they seemed to really like her. Despite the person not being the one to start the thread, they had posted in it many times since, and Lydia noticed that they always kept their comments respectful. There had been many more comments about Lydia’s appearance since she had worn the dress, mostly positive. Many of them focused on her cleavage, and there had been an influx of sordid posts. Not for the first time, Lydia felt angry that Robert had refused to have the forum moderated.

And RedSupergiant was still angry at people who were posting such comments.

Lydia thought back to her fan's anger at the comments about the low-cut dress and once again wondered how this person had known that Robert had forced her to wear it. She suddenly wondered if it was possible that the person could be a woman, but something about their writing style told her it was more likely to be a male.

And something about the writing style, the way the words sounded when she read them out loud to herself, seemed very familiar…

Her eyes raked over a post from someone describing, in great detail, what they wanted to do to her in bed after seeing her in the low-cut dress. And there, underneath the comment, was RedSupergiant's response.

How about you go fuck yourself instead, because Lydia never will.

Her biggest fan was acting very protective of her and seemed to hate the idea of her being sexualised. But further down, RedSupergiant had made their own comments about her appearance in response to someone calling her beautiful.

Can’t argue with that. Lydia is indeed beautiful. Some of the perverted fuckers on here need to get a life, though. I mean, hey, I’ve got a history of being a pervert, but when it comes to Lydia, she deserves respect.

Lydia frowned at the comment. The person had admitted to having a history of being a pervert. What, she wondered, had changed? Why did this person believe that she didn’t deserve to be treated as a sexual object when they had previously treated other women like that?

She sighed and was about to put her phone away when it suddenly started ringing. The sound made Lydia jump, and she groaned when she saw Robert’s name flashing up on the screen.

“Hi Robert, what’s up?”

“I’ve got your dress ready,” he said, not bothering to hide the excitement in his voice. “It’s perfect, Lydia. All the fans are gonna love you at the convention. You –”

“Yeah, about the convention…Robert, I’m not sure I want to go.”

There was silence for a few moments. Lydia wondered if he’d hung up in anger, but then he spoke. Gone was the excited tone, replaced with one with a dangerous edge.

“Lydia, we had a deal. You promised me that you would go to Ghost Con if I let you do the assignment without it being filmed. You did it, and now you owe me.”

“But…”

“Lydia, you’re going. It’ll be good for you. And I’ll be there with you. I’ll keep you happy. You’ll be fine. Look, come into the studio to get your dress, and we’ll talk. Just the two of us. Or I could take you out to dinner again?”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Lydia, grimacing as she thought about their awful dinner date, which had been made more enjoyable by the fact that Betelgeuse had helped her to get the pizza and cocktail that she had wanted…

“Come on, Lydia, you know I just want what’s best for you,” Robert crooned. “I just want you –”

“You just want me to be happy, I know. I really appreciate that, Robert. But what would really make me happy is not having to go to the convention.”

Silence followed, and Lydia took a deep breath, her heart hammering hard against her chest as it always did these days whenever she was trying hard to be assertive.

“Fine,” said Robert, his voice increasing by a few octaves. “That’s fine. If you don’t want to go, then you don’t have to.”

Relief flooded Lydia.

“Really? You’re seriously ok with that?”

“Sure. I’m ok with that.”

“Oh, that’s great! That’s really –”

“The fans won’t be ok with it, though.”

Lydia’s smile immediately faded.

“Oh, well…there will be other people from the Ghost House crew there.”

“Yeah, but they want to meet you, Lydia. You’re popular now. And that popularity is because of me.”

Lydia sighed. He had a point. Even though she hated the attention, hated the fact that people were now leering over her in the forums as a result of the dress Robert had asked her to wear, she couldn’t deny that he had helped her gain more fans.

“But if you want to let them all down, then that’s fair enough. That’s fine. Well, I’ve got stuff to do, I’m a busy man.”

Lydia could tell he was about to hang up, so she quickly responded.

“Wait! I…ok, I’ll go.”

She sighed deeply and closed her eyes in frustration.

So much for being assertive.

“Good girl. Oh, and Lydia?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring your friend along, the one who attacked me. I’m still not over it. I don’t want a guy who is responsible for my unpacked trauma to be present at such an important event.”

Unpacked trauma.

Lydia frowned at the words. The same words Rory had used…

“I…”

“He’s no good for you, Lydia. He’s a troublemaker. So please don’t bring him with you. I’ll see you later when you collect the dress. The fans are gonna love this! Great publicity for the show. You should you give all the fans a flash of your chest, pull your dress down real low at the front.”

Lydia’s mouth hung open in shock, unable to believe that such a suggestion had left Robert’s mouth. The Robert she knew, the one from before Rory's disappearance, would never have made such a lewd suggestion.

But then neither would Rory.

Rory may have been deceitful, but he had never sexualised Lydia. Not in such an obvious way.

Lydia was so confused.

Robert hung up, his laughter at his words still ringing in her ears.

Something was definitely wrong with the guy, but Lydia couldn’t work out what it was.

She sighed and summoned her business partner.

***

Lydia watched, frowning as Betelgeuse shook his head and laughed in response to her telling him about Robert’s suggestion.

“I don’t know why you’re still refusin’ to see it, Lyds. I already told ya. Robert is being possessed by Rory.”

“Rory would never act like that.”

“That’s because he’s not the old Rory anymore. He was digested by a sandworm and shitted out of it with a fuckin’ soul sucker. This new Rory is different, Lyds.”

Lydia shook her head.

“Look,” she said. “I…I get why you’re suggesting it, but it just doesn’t fit with who Rory is. He would never possess someone.”

“The Maitlands didn’t look the type of people who would possess someone, either. All nice lookin’ and innocent. But they did, didn’t they? They tried everythin’ they could to get your family outta the house.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t a malicious possession. Adam and Barbara would never have hurt my family. They just wanted their home back.”

“And Rory wants the money that he was plannin’ to take from you. And he ain’t gonna stop until he gets it.

Lydia shook her head and sat down on one of the dusty sofas in the attic.

“Something is definitely wrong with Robert,” she said. “But I don’t believe it’s anything to do with Rory.”

Betelgeuse started to speak, but Lydia cut him off.

“And I think you’re getting a bit too fixated on Rory.”

Betelgeuse looked at her in disbelief, and Lydia looked away, not wanting to say what she was about to say. Not wanting to bring the dark reason for Betelgeuse’s fixation with her ex-fiancé, the reason that she had thought of earlier, out into the open. Not wanting to voice the possibility of him using Rory to get her to make her turn to him so that he could eventually achieve his goal of marrying her to get into the living world.

“This ain’t a fixation, Lyds. I’m just tellin’ you the truth.”

And before Lydia could stop herself, she spoke the words that she hadn’t wanted to say.

“How do I know that you aren’t lying about Rory to get me to be closer to you so that you can make another wedding attempt? So that you can achieve your goal of marrying me and get that freedom that you want?”

As soon as the words were out there, Lydia regretted saying them.

The silence hung in the air, and Lydia cringed inwardly as Betelgeuse’s expression crumpled up into a mixture of shock and disbelief.

He looked genuinely offended.

Hurt.

Almost as hurt as he had looked in the church when Lydia had made the comment about the six-hundred-year age gap.

Finally, he spoke.

“Is that what you think? You think I'm lyin' to you?”

“I…”

The shock and disbelief quickly melted away, and the ghost’s face was now contorted in anger.

“I spent all that time, years, tryin’ to keep you safe, and you still don’t trust me? You still think I’m a trickster demon?”

Lydia tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“In case you’ve forgotten, you were the one who pulled out of our deal. Twice. I held up my end of the bargain both times. Saved the Maitlands. Saved your daughter. And you pulled out. Fuckin’ twice.”

He stepped closer to her, and Lydia’s heart started to race.

“I’ve been followin’ the rules of the contract, rules that you set. I’ve been with you at every assignment, helped you every time that fucker has mistreated you and you still don’t trust me?”

He shook his head and let out a hollow laugh.

“Un-fuckin'-believable. Ya know what, Lydia? Fuck this. I’m done.”

Lydia’s eyes widened, and for a horrifying moment, she thought he was going to pull out of their partnership.

“Please,” she said, standing up and reaching out for him. “I-I’m sorry. My mind is…I’m just so…Rory destroyed me. It’s hard for me to trust anyone right now. Please don’t break our deal. I…”

Betelgeuse stared at her. And then he laughed. A booming laugh that reverberated around the cold, dusty room.

“You think I’m gonna pull out of the deal? Seriously? Babe, I never pull out of deals. But I’ll tell you somethin,’ I’m done tryin’ to convince you about Rory.”

He was about to teleport, but Lydia quickly stopped him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, more softly this time. “I…”

She choked back a sob, and Betelgeuse’s expression immediately softened. He sighed deeply and tilted his head at her.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t ya?” he said, his tone laced with affection. “You’re so infuriatin’ that you’re gonna give me a second permanent death.”

Lydia sniffled and wiped her eyes.

“Look, I know what you're goin’ through. I know what it’s like to have all that trust ripped away from you. Believe me.”

Lydia sniffled again and looked up at him, frowning.

“You do?”

“Yup.”

“W-what happened?”

But Betelgeuse shook his head, causing Lydia to feel frustrated at losing her chance to find out more about his past.

“Nuh-uh. I ain’t talkin’ about that now. But…”

He stepped closer to her and repeated the action, the one from the night before, of placing his fingers gently underneath Lydia’s chin and lifting her head so that their eyes met.

“You told me not to interfere in your personal life, so I won’t. And maybe, just maybe, this is somethin’ that you’re gonna have to figure out by yourself.”

Lydia was silent for a few moments as she thought about his words. Then, she spoke.

“Robert wants me to go to the convention by myself. He doesn’t want you there.”

“Ok.”

The nonchalance in his tone hurt, and Lydia bit her lip hard.

For a few moments, there was silence as they looked at each other. Lydia’s heart hammered against her chest as she stared into his eyes, fighting the urge to place her hand over his again. She didn’t want to go to the convention without him…she wanted him there, by her side.

Because despite her not being sure whether she could trust him or not, she still liked his company. Interfering or not, his presence at the celebration party and on the dinner date had made both events much more enjoyable.

Lydia couldn’t deny it.

“There is such a thing as a disguise, you know,” he finally said, his voice soft, “I have many of them.”

Lydia’s mouth instantly curved up into a smile.

“You can’t,” she said. “It’s too risky.”

“It’s a fan convention about ghosts, Lyds. I could even just go as myself.”

“I think Astrid’s got a Ghostface mask somewhere, you could use that.”

“What the fuck is a Ghostface?”

“Ghostface is a character from the Scream movies. I’m surprised you haven’t seen them. The killer always wears a mask.”

“I don’t need a mask. I’m very successful at makin’ people scream without a mask…”

Lydia wasn’t sure whether the remark was supposed to be suggestive. It very likely wasn't, because of the rules of their contract, but her brain immediately went there.

And to her horror, she felt herself blush.

Betelgeuse’s mouth curved up into that infuriating smirk.

“So, what do ya say? Want me to go with you?”

“It’ll be a whole lot more interesting if you do.”

“Damn right it will.”

Lydia let out a small chuckle, and then they stood in silence, still staring at each other, Betelgeuse’s hand still underneath her chin.

His thumb gently brushed her cheek, and Lydia had to resist the urge to close her eyes.

His touch felt good.

So good.

She cleared her throat.

“Want to watch a movie?” she asked.

It was the first time ever that she was the one to suggest it and Lydia wasn’t sure what that meant, but right now, it didn’t matter.

She was just glad that he hadn’t left her.

“Sure,” he replied. “How about the Horror Movie Convention Massacre?”

“Yeah, that’s a huge no. I’m already feeling anxious about going, I don’t need to add to that anxiety, thanks.”

“The Scream movies it is, then.”

“You know there are six of them to watch, right? That’s a lot of hours.”

“For you, my wonderful business partner, I have all the time in the world,” he replied in one of his silly accents.

Lydia’s mouth curved up into a huge grin as he teleported out of the room. She exited the attic and as she reached the living room where he had materialised, she paused, watching as the ghost tapped the buttons on the TV remote and jabbed it at the screen with a frown on his face.

Lydia tried desperately not to snigger at his look of utter confusion as he tried to operate the device. And when she stopped sniggering, she continued to watch him, her face softening, once again full of regret for admitting to him that she didn’t trust him.

And despite those earlier words, one thing she could trust Betelgeuse to do was to bring a mischievous, chaotic edge to any event that he accompanied her to.

The thought of attending Ghost Con suddenly didn’t seem so scary anymore.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t easy being different.

Having a strange and unusual personality came at a cost, and Lydia had paid the price many times. Throughout her childhood and teenage years, she had been forced to deal with normal people who would never understand what it was like to be her. Those people had no interest in the morbid things that she loved, such as death, ghosts, gothic stories, and gothic fashion.

Lydia had lost count of the number of times she had been called “weird.” She didn’t care about that, though. She had even admitted that she was strange and unusual.

What she did care about, though, was not being able to find many people to relate to. Being called names was all part of being different, and while it had hurt at first, Lydia had grown used to it and had accepted that there would always be people who would judge her for not being normal.

But that didn’t make the loneliness any easier.

There had been very few people whom Lydia could call her friend during her schooldays, and that was partly why she had chosen to stay away from social media. She had no friends to connect with, no one to share memories of her schooldays with, because not many people had wanted to be her friend.

And she was still paying the price of her strange and unusual personality in adulthood.

Because of her, Astrid had been forced to suffer the same experiences as she had during her schooldays. Lydia’s decision to be on television, to show off her ability to speak to the dead, had resulted in Astrid being mocked, ridiculed, and ostracised.

Lydia knew that Astrid had, at one point, resented her for it. That, along with Lydia being unable to communicate with Richard's ghost, had been the cause of their relationship breaking down.

And even though the events of that Halloween night had brought them closer together, Lydia still felt guilty.

She had always tried to embrace her strange and unusual personality. But there were moments, such as now, when she wished she could be normal. She wished she could dress in bright clothes, be outgoing, and have absolutely no interest in ghosts.

She wished she didn’t hate large crowds.

She wished she loved being the centre of attention.

But she didn’t.

And that’s why she was standing there now, staring at herself in the mirror, feeling sick with nerves at the thought of having to attend an event where there would be lots of people. An event where the attention was going to be on her. For an entire day.

She sighed and pulled the lid off the box that Robert had given her. Hands shaking, she pushed the pieces of tissue paper aside, waves of nausea rushing through her as her eyes landed on the black dress that he had asked her to wear.

She gently pulled the item out of the box and held it close to her body.

It was a nice dress, there was no doubt about that. But it was incredibly low-cut. Lydia’s mind immediately wandered to Elvira. She wasn’t sure if it was Robert’s intention for her to resemble the fictional horror hostess from the 1980s, but if it was, then he had certainly got the style of dress right.

Sighing, she slipped it on. The material felt nice against her pale skin, almost like silk. The dress hugged her curves, and Lydia’s eyes widened as she looked at the plunging neckline in the mirror.

It was far too much.

Far too much for a fan convention, where there would be hundreds of people.

Lydia felt sick. She desperately wanted to reach for a cardigan or a shawl, anything to hide the generous amount of cleavage that was on display.

She was going to have to stand there in front of everyone, signing autographs like this, with her chest almost hanging out. The thought of it made her feel ill.

She picked up her phone and dialled Robert’s number. He answered immediately.

“Lydia, everything ok? I hope you’re ready. I’m in the studio looking out the window and I can see the fans piling into the convention from here! It’s gonna be a great day!”

Lydia took a deep breath, like she always did whenever she was about to be assertive.

“Robert, I want to wear something different. The dress is too much.”

There was silence for a few moments, then Robert replied.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s too low-cut. I want something less revealing. I’m changing it.”

“Hang on, just give me a minute,” came Robert’s reply.

Lydia frowned as he hung up. Then, about a minute later, she heard a knock at the door. Sighing, she quickly hurried from the bedroom to the front door and opened it. Her eyes widened in shock as Robert greeted her, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Wow,” he breathed.

The word came out in almost a whisper, and Lydia shifted uncomfortably as his eyes raked over her body a few times before settling on her cleavage.

“How the hell did you get here so fast?” she asked, frowning at him.

Robert didn’t answer. His eyes were still fixed on her chest, greedily drinking it in.

“Robert?”

“Hmmm?”

“How did you get here so fast?” Lydia asked again, moving her hand over her cleavage to stop him from looking at it.

“Oh, I was…er…already in the area,” he said, finally meeting her gaze,

“No…no you weren’t. You’ve just told me that you were in the studio! There’s no way you could have travelled from the studio to Winter River that fast.”

“Oh, you must have misheard me. I didn’t say that at all.”

Lydia frowned.

She was sure that she had just heard him say that he was in the Ghost House studio, looking out of the window and watching the fans entering the convention venue across the street…

“Anyway, you look amazing! So amazing! Gorgeous! The fans are gonna love it!”

“Robert, I really don’t want to wear this,” said Lydia, still holding her hand across her chest. “I don’t feel comfortable.”

Robert studied her for a moment before stepping inside. Lydia stepped backwards as he did so, her heart suddenly hammering hard against her chest.

“We’ve been through this, Lydia. The fans aren’t gonna want you turning up in some boring black dress with a collar that comes right up to your neck. You’ve seen the latest comments on the forum, haven’t you? They loved the low-cut dress you wore in the latest episodes! They want to see your skin!”

“But I don’t want them to see it! They should be attending because they enjoy my presenting skills and investigation abilities, not because I’m wearing a dress that shows a lot of cleavage!”

Robert stared at her for a few moments again and then he shook his head.

“Fine,” he said, waving his hands dramatically. “Fine. If you don’t want to wear it, then don’t. If you’re unhappy, then that will make me unhappy.”

Lydia was about to sigh in relief, but he continued speaking.

“Those poor fans though, they will be so disappointed. Some have of them have travelled a long way, Lydia. And your new look is part of Ghost House’s recent boost in ratings. The fans want to see this Lydia.”

He made a gesture that indicated Lydia’s figure.

“They don’t want to see the boring Lydia in the boring black dress from back when the show was losing viewers. They want the new Lydia.”

“But –”

“Sweetheart, I just want what’s best for you. And believe me, this dress…this dress is gonna blow those fans away.”

Lydia was silent. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, her stomach still churning as she thought of all the eyes that would be fixed on her during the convention.

“Ok,” she finally said. “Can I at least get some security then? Some protection? There’s always a chance of some fans getting overzealous, Robert.”

“Security? What do you need security for? You’ve got me, Lydia. You don’t need anyone else. And please make sure that your friend won’t be there. He’s banned from the event, understand? I don’t want you hanging around with him again. Remember, you’ve got me now.”

He stepped forward and placed his hands on Lydia's arms. She shivered at the contact, feeling his icy touch through the thin material of her dress.

Her thoughts drifted to Betelgeuse. She would have to call him quickly before the convention and make sure that he had chosen a suitable disguise. The last thing she needed was any confrontation between her business partner and her manager, especially now that Betelgeuse believed that Robert was being possessed by Rory…

Robert’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Be there as quickly as you can,” he said. “We’ve got a lot of fans to get through.”

And before she could respond, he left. Lydia stepped outside, frowning, looking for any sign of the car that had gotten him to Winter River so quickly.

But there wasn’t any car.

It was as though he had disappeared into thin air…

***

Lydia breathed deeply as she waited for Betelgeuse to materialise in the attic. Her arms were at her sides, and she wondered whether she should place one over her chest again, but she decided not to.

Betelgeuse had not indicated that he had liked her dress on the night of the celebration party, and Lydia believed that this time would be no different. But as she waited, she couldn’t help but feel nervous. She couldn’t help but wonder what he would think of the dress. Not that she should care. But as the familiar wisp of smoke surrounded her, Lydia realised that she did care. Business partner or not, and deal or not, Betelgeuse’s opinion mattered to her. And unlike the night of the party, when he had appeared with his back to her, this time he was facing her.

And his gaze immediately went there.

Lydia stared at him, her heart beating so fast against her chest that she was sure he would hear it. Even see it.

But as quickly as his blue eyes had landed on her cleavage (and Lydia couldn’t blame him for looking at it because the neckline was extremely low), they shifted away, and Lydia could tell that he had shifted his gaze on purpose. And for some reason, she felt offended. Unlike Robert, Betelgeuse hadn’t wanted to look at her cleavage. And the thought of that hurt.

And Lydia had no idea why.

She had been the one to set the rules of the contract, so why the hell did she have a problem with Betelgeuse following them?

Why the hell did it bother her that this crude, loud ghost, whose behaviour was often inappropriate, was being respectful and not ogling her?

The silence hung in the air, and Lydia finally looked away from him, blushing. Betelgeuse cleared his throat.

“You ready to –”

“Sorry, I was –”

They spoke at the same time, their words mingling together and then trailing off into the quiet of the attic. Then, they looked at each other again and both chuckled, each one apologising for speaking at the same time as the other.

“You ready to go?” Betelgeuse asked. “Is that what you were callin’ for?”

Lydia shook her head.

“You look unhappy,” the ghost said, still staring at her, his eyes fixed on her face. Lydia knew he was trying hard to avoid looking at her chest. And respectful or not, it still caused her heart to clench painfully in her chest.

Wow, he must really hate the way my body looks in this dress.

Lydia shifted her gaze from him as the words entered her brain, and before she could start to think about the reasons why she cared so much about that fact, she cleared her throat and replied.

“I…I don’t want to wear this dress,” she said. “I feel uncomfortable.”

“Then don’t wear it.”

“I have to.”

“Why?”

“Robert told me to.”

Betelgeuse shook his head at her words, then let out a hollow laugh.

“You mean Rory told you to.”

“Don’t start with that.”

Betelgeuse held his hands up in defence.

“Fine,” he said. “I won’t mention it. Like I said, you’ll just have to figure it out on your own. But Lyds, you don’t have to wear it.”

“Is it too much?”

The question was out of her mouth before Lydia could stop it. It was selfish of her, she knew that. She shouldn’t be asking his opinion when she had been the one to tell him, weeks ago, that she wanted their deal to be strictly business. No compliments, nothing inappropriate.

Yet here she was, asking his opinion on her plunging neckline.

“I…”

The hesitation threw Lydia off. Betelgeuse never hesitated. Never stuttered. Every word he uttered was usually with confidence and without any care for what anyone thought.

Lydia realised, then, that she had been right. He disliked the fact that she was showing far too much cleavage, and he wanted her to cover up. It was obvious. The hesitation was a sign that he didn’t want to offend her. A sign that he believed the dress didn’t look nice on her. It had to be.

“You should do what makes you comfortable, Lyds. Don’t listen to your manager. Just do what you wanna do.”

“It’s not as easy as that,” said Lydia, trying to fight the strange feeling of disappointment at Betelgeuse not liking her showing off her cleavage. “Robert says the fans will be disappointed if I don’t wear it.”

Betelgeuse looked like he wanted to say something, but he cleared his throat, obviously thinking better of it.

“I’ll meet you there,” he said.

And Lydia tried not to feel hurt at him suddenly changing the subject.

“W-what will your disguise be?” she asked.

“You’ll see,” he said, throwing her a weak smile before disappearing.

***

This deal was going to be the death of him. He was going to die a second permanent death.

Betelgeuse scrunched his face up and leaned against his desk. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. His thoughts drifted back to the party when Lydia had worn that stunning dress. And now here he was again, the image of her in the dress he had just seen burned into his brain.

He had just experienced what had been possibly the hardest part of his and Lydia’s deal.

Trying to tear his eyes away from her plunging neckline had been almost as difficult as trying to say a sentence without using a swear word or going an entire day without a cigarette.

In other words, fucking hard.

He reached down and adjusted himself through his trousers, gritting his teeth as he did so. George started to approach him, but Betelgeuse quickly held up his hand, gesturing to his lead worker that he was fine.

He wasn’t fine. He wasn’t fine at all.

God, this was so damn difficult.

She was so beautiful. So soft-looking. So gorgeous. So…perfect.

Get a fuckin’ grip, Geuse, and focus!

He needed to push the images out of his head. But he couldn’t. And now he was going to have to watch hundreds of fans ogling her.

He hated it.

And he hated the fact that Lydia hated it.

He wanted to scoop her up and take her away from it. Protect her from all those perverted fuckers who would be wanting her autograph today.

Protect her from Rory.

The anger burned through Betelgeuse as he thought about Lydia’s ex-fiancé controlling her and getting his way once again. Oh, how he wished he could just punch the fucker in the face and get rid of him forever.

Rory was going to make this day hard for Lydia, Betelgeuse knew that. He only wished that Lydia could realise that herself.

He snapped his fingers and within seconds, his black and white suit was gone, replaced with his disguise for the convention.

He was going to make sure that Lydia stayed safe today, even if it meant scaring the hell out of a lot of people.

***

Lydia continued to breathe deeply as she approached the venue where the convention was being held. Crowds of fans were queuing outside, waiting to enter. Huge banners bearing the words “Ghost Con” swayed in the late winter breeze, and Lydia watched as several Ghostfaces, Caspers, and Ghostbusters walked through the crowds.

Where, she wondered, was her business partner? Her stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing him again, and Lydia tried hard to ignore it. The flutters were quickly replaced with a much more unpleasant sensation as she watched Robert walking towards her. He was flanked by two security guards.

“Come on, we need to get inside,” he said excitedly, taking Lydia’s hand and pulling her along. Lydia walked quickly next to him, thankful for the presence of the two guards.

They entered the building through a side entrance, and as Lydia’s eyes wandered around the venue, her gaze shifted from the banners to the ghost-themed decorations that littered the walls and ceiling.

They entered a large room, where several other famous people from ghost-themed television shows and movies were preparing to sign autographs for the day.

“So, here’s the schedule,” said Robert, shoving a sheet of paper into her hand. Lydia glanced down at it, frowning.

“Robert, this says that I’ll be signing for four hours before I get a break!”

“It’s great, isn’t it? Think about how many fans are going to get your autograph! And then there’s the photos.”

Lydia’s stomach dropped.

“Photos? I have to do photos as well?”

“Of course you do,” said Robert, rolling his eyes. “Fans are going to want a photo, aren’t they?”

“But I thought they would just be taking photos at the table where I’m doing the autographs?”

“Oh, Lydia,” said Robert, shaking his head at her and chuckling. “Surely you know how these conventions work? People pay for autographs and photo opportunities. So, you’ll get to show off that fantastic dress while getting close to all your fans. Isn’t that great?”

Lydia took a deep breath. It wasn’t great. It wasn’t great at all. The thought of being so close to so many people, of having so many people so near to her, was causing her anxiety levels to increase.

She quickly shifted her gaze to the table where she would have to meet hundreds of fans and glanced up to see a huge photo of herself above her seat. The words “Lydia Deetz” were plastered across the photo in huge white letters, and Lydia suddenly felt terrified.

She had never experienced this before.

“I’ll be here throughout it all,” said Robert, patting her on the shoulder. “I’ll be your representative.”

“But…”

“I’ll never leave your side, Lydia. I’ll be there to guide you and show you what to write, how to pose. Isn’t that great?”

Lydia looked around. Where the hell was her business partner?

Her eyes quickly shifted back to her table.

And there he was.

Sitting there, with his black boots perched on the table and dressed in the same clothes as the staff members who had been assigned to help different celebrities, was her business partner.

Lydia’s mouth hung open in shock, and Betelgeuse, who had been looking down at something on the desk, suddenly glanced up and gave her a wave.

“Who the hell is that?” asked Robert, nodding at Betelgeuse. They walked over to the desk, and upon closer inspection, Lydia noticed that he had disguised himself as a skeleton, the black paint on his nose now matching the black rings around his eyes. He grinned at her, displaying moss-free teeth.

“Excuse me,” said Robert, elbowing his way past Lydia. “Lydia doesn’t need a guest handler, I’ll be at her table with her all day.”

“Sorry, pal,” said Betelgeuse, holding his hands out in an apologetic gesture that didn’t match his smug, wide grin and not bothering to disguise his gravelly voice. “Guests are only allowed to have staff members as their handlers. It’s the rules of the convention.”

“That’s ridiculous!” snapped Robert. “Don’t you know who I am? I’m Robert Forrester, producer of Ghost House. I’m Lydia’s manager, and I should be allowed to be her handler for the day. She needs me!”

“Sorry, that won’t be happenin'. Guests need to be managed by staff on the day. It’s the rules.”

“Why the hell are you in makeup? None of the other staff are wearing fancy dress.”

“Just tryin’ to get into the spirit,” said Betelgeuse, his mouth curving into his usual lop-sided grin.

He glanced around the room nonchalantly, and Lydia caught a glimpse of the bump on the bridge of his nose, which was painted black like the rest of it.

Robert's mouth curved into a sneer.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” he said, a dangerous edge to his voice. “I know it’s you. Lydia, I told you that he was banned from coming here.”

Lydia was about to speak, but Betelgeuse cut her off.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he said, examining his nails, which Lydia noticed were now short.

“It’s definitely him, isn’t it, Lydia? Your friend, the one who attacked me?”

“I…”

“Look pal, I’m Lydia’s handler for the day and there’s nothin’ you can do about it. So, get the fuck outta here and get your own table…Rory.”

Lydia’s gaze quickly shifted to Robert, who looked like he was going to explode with anger.

“You won’t get away with this,” he snarled.

He turned to face Lydia.

“Make sure you follow the schedule,” he snapped, before walking off. Lydia looked at Betelgeuse, who gave a little wave as the producer walked away.

“Stop it with the whole Rory thing,” hissed Lydia, leaning over the table to speak to him. Her business partner’s eyes quickly moved to her face, clearly trying to avoid her cleavage.

“What if one of the staff notices and you get thrown out?”

Betelgeuse shrugged.

“Then I’ll just come back in,” he said. “Whatever happens, I ain’t leaving your table. And I’ll be there when you do the photos as well.”

Lydia couldn’t help but smile. And she couldn’t deny that his presence had immediately calmed her. It was like a warm hug, enveloping her and immediately making her feel safe.

And no matter how much Lydia tried to fight that feeling, she just couldn’t deny it.

Suddenly, the day didn’t seem so bad.

***

Four hours passed by before disaster struck. For those first four hours, Lydia signed autographs and tried to be as polite as she could to her fans. There were, as she had feared, several fans who had acted inappropriately, but Betelgeuse had quickly taken care of it.

“I’ll give you fifty dollars if you let me write my name on your tits,” one young male fan in a ghost costume said, ogling Lydia’s chest. He had pulled his sheet from over his head as he'd spoken, and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Betelgeuse had immediately got out of his seat and stood in front of Lydia, his much larger frame blocking her from the young man’s view.

“Two things,” he’d said, leaning over the desk and holding up his fingers. “One, this is a fan convention. If you wanna pay to get near a pair of tits then fuck off and find a strip club. Second, your costume sucks. Next time you wanna dress like a ghost, get someone to paint your face instead of usin’ your mom’s bedsheets.”

Lydia had let out a snort of laughter behind him, and Betelgeuse had grinned and waved as the young man had walked away with his sniggering friends, his face bright red.

Another much older fan had gestured crudely at Lydia’s chest, making a cupping movement with his fingers and sniggering as he did so.

“Sorry, old pal,” Betelgeuse had said, shaking his head. “Lydia ain’t interested in cupping your saggy old balls, so I suggest you move on. Go on, get the fuck outta here.”

The man had walked off, throwing Betelgeuse a dirty look as he did so.

“We’ll get complaints!” Lydia had said, unable to suppress an uncharacteristic giggle.

“Let the fuckers complain,” Betelgeuse had replied, shrugging. “If the convention gets cancelled in the future, then at least you won’t have to worry about goin’ to it again.”

And for those four hours, that’s how it had been. Whether it was Betelgeuse’s painted skeleton face or his slightly aggressive manner that stopped the male fans from confronting him for his comments, Lydia wasn’t sure.

But what she did know was that he had, once again, made an event that she had been dreading enjoyable.

But then, after those four hours, it all went wrong.

Betelgeuse had been summoned by a client, and Lydia, despite feeling panicky at the thought of doing the photo sessions without him by her side, had told him to go.

Their deal had been for Betelgeuse to accompany her to her assignments only. He had no obligation to be there at the convention with her. So Lydia, not wanting him to miss out on any of his bio-exorcist jobs with his clients, had reassured him that it was fine for him to go.

“I’ll be fine, really,” she had said, smiling and trying to hide her panic.

“You sure?” he had asked, his blue eyes full of concern.

“Yes. I’ll call you later. Thanks for helping me get through the autographs and good luck with your job.”

“Thanks, Lyds. See ya later.”

Then, he had disappeared.

And Lydia’s anxiety had immediately skyrocketed.

Her protection was gone.

The warm feeling that had engulfed her had melted away the moment Betelgeuse had left, leaving behind the icy breeze that always followed her around whenever Robert was nearby.

Her manager was standing there now, deep in conversation with the man who was taking the photos.

“Here are the first lot of fans who want a photo with you,” he said as he walked over to her. “Remember, keep that dress nice and low.”

Lydia glanced over at the male fan who was first in the line, her stomach churning at the sight of the seedy grin on his face.

“I don’t want any touching,” she said quietly to Robert. “Please tell them that it’s strictly no touching. No poses either, just a photo of me and each fan stood together.”

Robert shook his head and smiled.

“Oh Lydia,” he said. “There needs to be some touching! Who wants a photo with a favourite celeb who they can’t touch? Just let them touch! Remember, if the fans are happy, then that will make us happy. You want the fans to be happy, don’t you?”

“But…”

“Photos will be for two hours, and then you’ll be taking part in a question-and-answer session for Ghost House. Make sure you stick to the schedule, Lydia.”

And then he started to walk away. Panicking, Lydia called out to him.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Got a few fans to meet back down in the auto room.”

“But Robert, I don’t –”

“Nonsense, Lydia! You’ll be fine! And remember to smile!”

His voice drifted down the corridor as he walked away, and Lydia was suddenly alone. Staff members walked around her, trying to manage the long queue.

Her chest started to tighten.

Oh no…

She suddenly felt light-headed.

She watched as the male fan was ushered towards her. Her breathing deepened as he got nearer to her, his eyes fixed on her cleavage. And then he reached out and pulled her into a crushing hug, hard enough for her chest to be pushed up uncomfortably against his.

And he wouldn’t let go.

The male fan's friends cheered as he hugged her tightly. He was much bigger than her, and Lydia felt as though she was suffocating against his body. She tried to shout out, but her voice was muffled.

Why the hell were the staff not doing anything? Lydia had always hated conventions and did her best to avoid them, but she knew enough to be aware of the fact that the staff never allowed fans to act inappropriately with guests. They always made sure that the guests were treated respectfully.

But right now, no one was treating Lydia respectfully.

Her breathing deepened, and then, suddenly, the male fan pushed her away from him and touched her chest.

“Not as firm as I expected,” he said, turning to face his friends, who were all laughing.

Lydia blushed a deep red and looked around for a staff member. The fan continued to snigger with his friends before turning to face the camera.

“Will you let me put my hands on them for the photo?” he asked, nodding down at her cleavage. “I can hold them up for you if you want?”

Lydia backed away from him.

“Is everything ok over here?” asked a female staff member, who had been managing the queue.

“He’s acting inappropriately towards me,” said Lydia, nodding at the man. “Please remove him.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Deetz, but you are required to have a photo with everyone who has paid for one,” said the woman. “This is at the request of your manager.”

“What?” said Lydia, trying to keep her breathing steady.

“Mr. Forrester has asked us to make sure that you have a photo with everyone who has paid for one. This gentleman has paid, so you will need to have a photo with him.”

“We’ve got lots to get through, so could you hurry up?” called the photographer, sounding bored.

Lydia stared at the young man, who was still leering at her.

She couldn’t do this.

She couldn’t get through this.

She couldn’t get through this without Betelgeuse.

But she couldn’t disturb him. He was busy with a job. He had helped her all morning, and she didn’t want to bother him. She mustn’t bother him.

But she couldn’t do this.  

She felt sick, and the room was starting to spin.

“Come on, darling,” the perverted fan called out. “Don’t leave me hanging like those tits of yours! Are you gonna let me touch them for the photo or not?”

Howls of laughter came from the man’s group of friends.   

“Go on,” one of them called out. “See if you can score with the crazy middle-aged goth!”

And Lydia realised, at that moment, that while many of the fans she had met that morning had seemed pleasant, some of these people who had attended the convention were not fans at all. They had simply come to see the strange and unusual middle-aged goth presenter in the flesh.

Come to stare and laugh at her.

Lydia didn’t feel human at that moment.

She felt like a caged animal in a zoo, put on display by her manager for people to come and stare at.

The sound of laughter seemed to ring in her ears, and suddenly she was transported back to her schooldays. The days when people had sniggered at her appearance and accused her of lying about being able to see ghosts. Lydia could still hear the whispers in her ears, the mutters from her classmates about how weird and strange she was.

She looked behind the group of boys and could see a couple of girls sniggering at her.

Her heart hammered violently against her chest, and Lydia suddenly realised that she was unable to breathe.

She rushed past the line of fans, breathing hard as she did so, ignoring shouts from the staff members.

She had to get out of there.

She looked around, still breathing hard, trying to locate an empty room. But there was none. Feeling trapped and aware that people were staring at her, Lydia rushed down a set of stairs, nearly falling over as she did so.

The convention was incredibly busy, and Lydia pushed her way through crowds of people. Hordes of Ghostfaces, skeletons and people with faces painted chalk-white pushed past her, all staring at her as they did so.

“Is that Lydia Deetz?” she heard someone whisper to their friend.

“Look!” another one said, not bothering to whisper and pointing at Lydia as she hurried past them. “It’s that presenter from that show. The weird goth one!”

And then Lydia tripped. She fell forward, landing in a heap on several sets of shoes. She looked up, seeing several ghostly faces staring down at her.

She was in the midst of a full-blown anxiety attack.

And there was no one to help her.

She tried to speak, but she couldn’t get the words out.

“Bet…Betel…”

She was breathing hard, her heart hammering painfully against her chest. Someone reached down to help her up, but Lydia batted their hand away.

“I think she needs help!” she heard a female voice call out.

With great effort, Lydia pushed herself up and tried to push past the crowds, but it was no good. The venue was packed.

“Please…move,” she gasped, pushing past a tall man in a Ghostface mask.

“Are you ok?” asked a woman with a kind face, but Lydia pushed her away, desperate to get away from the building.

She hurried past stalls full of merchandise, catching a quick glimpse of a T-shirt with the Ghost House logo on it, which did nothing to help her anxiety. Music blasted out of a speaker close by, and Tubular Bells by Mike Oldfield, which Lydia recognised as the theme to The Exorcist, filled her ears as she tried to push past the crowds of people.

“Need…to…Betel…”

The words wouldn’t come out. It was too hard to breathe.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Lydia reached one of the venue's exits and collapsed onto the concrete. A group of people rushed towards her, but she waved them away, still breathing hard.

“Betel…Bet…”

She still couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t even say his name.

She tried to regulate her breathing, but it was no good.

“Are you ok?” asked a staff member, bending down and placing a hand on her shoulder, her face full of concern.

Lydia shook her head and waved the woman away.

“Bet…Betel…”

And then, somehow, she managed to say the words in quick succession, forcing them to come out of her mouth with great difficulty.

“Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse Betelgeuse!”

He was there in seconds, and if Lydia had been in a normal state, she would have realised that she was taking a big risk summoning him in such a crowded area.

But she wasn’t in a normal state. And at that moment, all she cared about was the fact that he was there.

Betelgeuse looked around for a few seconds, frowning, before he felt something, or rather, someone, tugging at the trouser leg of his suit. He looked down and his eyes widened as he caught sight of Lydia crumpled up on the floor.

“Jesus…” he muttered and crouched down.

“Pl-please…I need...I need to get…get out…I…”

Betelgeuse snapped his fingers, and the scenery around them slowly melted away, replaced with the familiar surroundings of the Winter River house. Lydia sat on the living room floor, shaking, her breathing still ragged. Betelgeuse crouched down and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s ok, Lyds. You’re safe now, you’re home.”

Lydia felt him gently pull her up, and she clung to him as he helped her to sit on the sofa.

“Here,” he said, his gravelly voice soft. He conjured up a black and white striped paper bag and handed it to her. “Breathe into this. Deep breaths.”

And Lydia did.

And as she did so, she thought of a technique a therapist she had seen years ago had advised her to use whenever she was experiencing an anxiety attack.

Focus on your senses. Find something you can see, hear, smell, touch, and taste.

She slowly lowered the bag, her gaze immediately shifting to Betelgeuse. She kept her eyes fixed on him.

“Keep breathing,” he said after a few moments, allowing Lydia to focus on his familiar gravelly voice.

His scent, the scent she had grown so used to and found so comforting, immediately filled her nostrils. The scent of grave dirt and moss, with undertones of something woody, like the earth after a rainstorm. Then slowly, very slowly, she reached out and touched him, her breathing starting to slow down as she did so. She clutched the material of his jacket before running her hand slowly down his arm, and brushed his cool fingers lightly with her own.

Betelgeuse’s eyes widened, and he looked down at her fingers. Then, Lydia gently laced her warm fingers with his cool ones before clutching his hand tightly.

The action did nothing to calm her racing heart, but her breathing continued to slow.

And the final step, the final sense that she was required to focus on as part of her technique to calm herself during her anxiety attack, entered her head.

Taste.

She glanced up at Betelgeuse, still breathing deep and slow, and her eyes fixed on his lips.

And Lydia had to resist acting on that final step.

She had to resist leaning forward and brushing her lips against his.

She had to fight the overwhelming urge that she was experiencing at that moment.

The urge to kiss him.

The urge to explore his mouth with her own, to part his lips with her tongue and taste him.

He had saved her yet again, and Lydia was losing her fight.

And this time, she couldn’t blame the pills because she hadn’t taken any pills for days.

The sound of Betelgeuse clearing his throat broke her thoughts, and Lydia quickly tried to compose herself, hoping that her face hadn’t given away the fact that she wanted to kiss him.

But she didn’t pull her hand away from his. Instead, she continued to sit there holding it, needing to feel his skin against hers, still needing his touch to comfort her.

Finally, after a few minutes, she spoke.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you for always being there for me.”

Betelgeuse tilted his head before reaching out and gently touching her chin.

“No problem,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

“It’s not your fault. I told you to go to your client.”

But Betelgeuse shook his head. He was about to speak again, but Lydia suddenly shivered. She moved her arms over her chest and looked up at him. He looked down at her, smiling softly, before gently removing his hand from hers and conjuring up the black and white blanket again. He placed it around her shoulders.

“Do you want me to stay with you or shall I go?”

Lydia looked up at him, enjoying the feel of the blanket against the bare skin of her chest.

“Please stay, if that’s ok?”

Betelgeuse’s mouth curved into that damn smirk.

The smirk that Lydia had grown to love.

Love.

The word floated into her brain, and as much as she tried to push it out, she couldn’t.

“It’s always ok,” he said. “Wanna watch a movie?”

Lydia smiled and nodded.

***

“Astrid, please don’t worry, I’m fine now.”

Lydia placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder as she spoke.

“Mom, you’re in the news. People at school were talking about it. Why didn’t you tell me that you’d had a bad anxiety attack at the convention?”

Lydia sighed. She had tried to keep the incident a secret, not wanting to worry Astrid. But Lydia was famous, and just as she had feared, Astrid had found out through someone else.

Robert had been calling and emailing constantly, no doubt angry, but Lydia had ignored him.

And as she sat there with Astrid now, at the kitchen table, clutching her mug, her thoughts drifted to Betelgeuse.

“Let me guess, your business partner helped you again.”

Lydia nodded.

“He did.”

“It’s becoming a regular habit of his, isn’t it?”

Lydia couldn’t argue with that.

“It is.”

“So…how did he help this time?”

“He came when I summoned him, brought me back here and then…I used the senses technique, the one a therapist taught me a while back.”

“The five senses thing? See, hear, smell, touch and…taste?”

Lydia nodded.

“And…how did he help with that?”

“I…well, he was…I could see him and hear him…”

“And the smell? Do I even wanna know about that one?”

“I like the way he smells,” Lydia said quickly, her tone defensive. “It reminds me of the earth and...the rain…”

Lydia’s voice trailed off, and when she glanced back at Astrid, the teenager had a huge grin plastered on her face.

“What?” Lydia asked rather defensively.

“It’s shifted, hasn’t it? You aren’t looking at him like a business partner anymore, are you?”

“I…”

“What about the touch? Dare I ask about that?”

“I…I touched his hand. It wasn’t anything inappropriate, just lightly holding his hand to calm me. He was the nearest thing to me…”

“And did touching him calm you?”

Lydia was silent for a few moments before nodding slowly. She couldn’t deny it.

“And…the taste? Should I even ask about that one?”

Lydia didn’t answer. Instead, she groaned.

And Astrid’s mouth curved into a smirk almost as huge as Betelgeuse’s, her eyes widening.

“Oh my god,” she said. “You kissed him?”

“Of course I didn’t!” said Lydia quickly. Too quickly.

And then she fell silent. She could feel Astrid’s gaze still burning into her. She rolled her eyes and looked up.

“What?”

“You wanted to, though, didn’t you?”

“Wanted to what?”

“Oh, come on, Mom, don’t pretend. You wanted to kiss him.”

Astrid grimaced as she spoke the words. Then she sighed before continuing to speak.

“I mean, he’s not…I don’t…ugh. I don’t get it, but at the same time, I kinda do? He's…he's just so…perfect for you.”

“Astrid, we’ve been through this. We’re just business partners.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“You know damn well what question, Mom. You wanted to kiss him, didn’t you?”

Lydia opened her mouth to argue, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, she groaned, giving Astrid her answer.

The teenager smiled. Lydia placed her head in her hands, and she felt her daughter patting her gently on the back.

“It’s ok, Mom. Really, it’s ok.”

“We’re just business partners,” Lydia repeated. “And I…I…”

To Lydia’s horror, she felt tears pricking her eyes.

“I have no idea how this happened,” she said, her voice shaky. “I just…”

Astrid reached forward and brushed some stray hairs out of her mother’s eyes.

“You've developed feelings for him," the teenager said softly. "You like him.”

Lydia sniffled in reply.

“I…”

“Go on, admit it. It’s time to be honest with yourself.”

And Lydia nodded, finally admitting it.

“And don’t you dare say that you only like him as a friend, because that’s bullshit, and you know it.”

Lydia sniffled again and looked up at her daughter, finally meeting her eyes.

“You’re right,” she said. “It is bullshit. But you can’t breathe a word of this, Astrid. Not to anyone.”

“Don’t worry,” said Astrid, winking at her mother. “I won’t.”

And Lydia felt instantly better, like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

No matter how much she tried to deny it, she couldn’t. She couldn’t ignore her feelings anymore.

Lydia wasn’t sure exactly when those feelings had started to grow…maybe somewhere around the time of the celebration party? She wasn’t sure. But those initial feelings had blossomed into something deeper.

And at that moment, Lydia finally realised that despite all the years he had haunted her, despite the questionable things he had done, Betelgeuse had never once let her down.

He had accepted her strange and unusual personality.

He had never judged her or mocked her appearance or made her feel like it wasn’t ok for her to be herself.

He had always been by her side.

And Lydia knew, at that moment, that it was getting harder to stick to the rules of the deal.

She had almost leaned forward and kissed him.

She had almost broken her own rules.

And as Lydia sat there, she felt an overwhelming sadness, a sadness that had little to do with her almost breaking the deal and a lot to do with the fact that she knew that Betelgeuse didn’t reciprocate her feelings.

Part of her, a large part, was still worried that he wanted to use her to gain access to the living world. She wanted to trust him, really wanted to trust him, and she was slowly learning to. But she couldn’t get the image of his reaction to her dress out of her head.

He hadn’t wanted to look at her. Hadn’t seemed interested in her.

And the thought of that crushed her.

She had to stick to the deal. No matter how hard it would be. She couldn’t act on her feelings.

Because doing that would mean breaking the deal, and that would mean losing the closeness that she had with her business partner.

And she couldn’t lose the only person who was the closest thing she had to a friend.

She just couldn't.

Chapter Text

“Not a lot we can do, Geuse. We just gotta wait for the right moment.”

Betelgeuse glared at Wolf and drummed his long fingernails on the head of the Afterlife Crime Unit’s desk.

“And when’s that gonna be, Wolf? Because the fucker is dangerous and Lydia is at risk.”

“And if we storm into that studio and confront him, he’ll just try to escape. Remember what you did to me when I interrupted your wedding at the church?”

Betelgeuse sniggered as he thought back to Halloween, when Wolf and his team had crashed through the church’s windows and tried to capture him for violating code 699.

“Wasn’t a nice experience being frozen. I never wanna go through that again,” said Wolf with a shiver. “And this guy is possibly even more powerful than you. We can’t go up there and bring him to the afterlife. Not yet.”

“So what’s it gonna take? If you can come up there after me for violatin’ a damn code then you sure as hell should be goin’ up there and bringin’ him down here.”

“Well, you broke the law, Mr. Geuse. We had no choice but to come after you. This Rory guy…he hasn’t broken any of the afterlife’s laws yet.”

Betelgeuse laughed and shook his head.

“He’s been takin’ pieces of Lydia’s soul. That’s a crime, ain’t it? You were lookin’ for Delores when she was doin’ it, so you should be lookin’ for him.”

“We had evidence that Delores was sucking souls. With this guy, we don’t have any proof. We can’t risk going up there and bringing him down here just yet. But hopefully you can keep an eye on him for us, monitor him.”

Wolf picked up his cup of coffee and took a long sip as Betelgeuse watched him, scowling. He clenched his fists underneath the table, trying hard to control the anger that was bubbling inside of him and threatening to come to the surface. He had to keep calm. He couldn’t lose his temper. The last thing he needed was to be thrown into the afterlife’s prison for losing his cool with Wolf. But it was so damn frustrating.

The afterlife’s police had been so fast to act when he had broken the code to help Lydia save Astrid. But here they were now, taking their time, allowing a vicious, powerful ghost to roam the living world and put not only Lydia at risk but also the poor fucker whom he was possessing.

Betelgeuse didn’t know this Forrester guy personally, but by the time Rory was finished with him and no longer needed him as his puppet, the poor guy was gonna be close to death himself.

“Look,” said Wolf, studying Betelgeuse and setting his cup down. “I know you care about that fleshbag of yours. And this partnership that you both have…that’s a good thing, because it means that you can keep her safe in case this Rory guy is back.”

“He is back. There’s no doubt about it.”

“Well, we need proof that it’s him. We need actual proof that he’s dangerous.”

“You said it yourself! I set the sandworm on him and Delores, he underwent a transformation in the fucker’s digestive system and now he’s back and possessin’ some innocent producer of Lydia’s TV show!”

“We still need proof. Like I said, if you could keep an eye –”

“Fuck’s sake,” growled Betelgeuse. The bubbling anger finally reached the surface, and he slammed his fist down hard onto Wolf’s desk. “Fine. Fuckin’ fine. I’ll keep an eye on him. I’ll do the job that you and your boys are supposed to be doin'. But don’t fuckin blame me if somethin’ goes wrong.”

“Look, Geuse, I understand that you’re –”

“And if anything happens to Lydia, that’s on you and your team.”

Wolf tried to speak, but Betelgeuse didn’t give him the chance. He exited the room, slamming the door hard behind him.

He teleported to his office and groaned, watching as his workers typed away on their computers. George lifted his head from the notes he had been running his bony fingers over, and somehow, Betelgeuse could see a flicker of concern in the skeleton’s expressionless face. The ghost nodded, indicating that everything was fine, even though it wasn’t.

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He was sure he could still feel Lydia’s warm touch on his cool fingers. He brought his hand away from his face and stared at it, still unable to believe that she had touched him.

She had held his hand. Willingly.

He closed his eyes, feeling a pleasant tingle run through him. Despite his anger and frustration at Wolf, his mouth curved into a grin, and he suddenly felt giddy with happiness.

Like a fan meeting their favourite celebrity.

Lydia Deetz had touched him. Actually properly touched him.

Her hand had felt so soft, so warm, so…so small in his much larger one.

It made his dead heart swell.

He would never have thought, not in a million years, that Lydia would ever touch him so willingly. But she had. She had reached for his hand, had held it tightly to help her calm down.

And Betelgeuse had seen the way that her gaze had shifted to his lips. He laughed and shook his head.

No. That was…the thought of it was ridiculous. There was no way that Lydia would ever consider kissing him.

If there was one thing that Rory was right about, it was that Lydia would never want him. She had made that clear when she had set the rules of the deal.

But the way she had touched him…God, it had felt so good.

Betelgeuse couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him willingly before then. If he had to guess, it was probably in Dante’s Inferno Room all those years ago. That had been the last time he had had any proper physical contact with someone willing. The second marriage attempt didn’t count, because he had possessed everyone in the church. But last night, Lydia had reached for his hand without any hesitation. There had been no possession. Nothing was forced. She had simply reached out, touched his jacket, and slowly moved her hand towards his.

Betelgeuse let out a loud, dreamy sigh. God, he loved her.

And even though he knew she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, would never reciprocate his feelings, any kind of physical affection from her was enough for him.

He pulled out his phone and started typing out his usual loving messages about Lydia to no one. He was so desperate to say all the nice things he had been writing down to her face, but he knew he couldn’t.

He accessed the Ghost House forum, sighing heavily as he did so. After reading the recent posts on there, the ones that had been written after Lydia’s anxiety attack at the convention, Betelgeuse was more desperate than ever to shower her with nice words.

Some fans were understanding about it all, with many posting messages of support and saying that they could relate to Lydia. But many had also left unpleasant messages. One fan, whom Betelgeuse guessed was the young man who had touched Lydia inappropriately, had left an angry message saying that he paid for a photo with her and never got one.

And so Lydia’s appreciation thread, the thread that she deserved, was now littered with nasty messages from fans criticising her for leaving the venue. Betelgeuse scrolled through the thread, shaking his head at the mess that it had become.

Some people on here clearly don’t know what it’s like to have an anxiety disorder, one person had written. It’s not easy to live with.

It’s no excuse, another had replied. We paid a lot of money to have our photo taken with her, and she just left before we could get one. I’ll never watch Ghost House again, not while she’s still presenting it!

More unpleasant comments had been written underneath the reply.

Her tits looked amazing in that dress she was wearing but yeah, gotta admit that the whole thing was disappointing. Hot or not, she’s a rude bitch who has let a lot of fans down. She needs to be fired.

So disappointed in Lydia. I enjoy her investigations, but to leave a convention when fans have paid a lot of money is unacceptable. I heard she’s hard work behind the scenes. She should be grateful to her manager.

Betelgeuse rolled up the sleeves of his jacket and started typing.

It was time for RedSupergiant to shut these nasty fuckers down.

***

Fuck you, get a fuckin’ life you pathetic bunch of losers! Lydia is a better person than any of you on here. Leave her alone.

Lydia wanted to feel grateful for RedSupergiant’s comments, but right now, she felt empty. Weeks and weeks of hard work had all been ruined, all because of her anxiety.

Weeks of dangerous assignments, all for nothing.

The popularity that Lydia had gained had come tumbling down, like someone taking a piece out of a tower of stacked blocks and causing all the other blocks to crash down.

And her anxiety had been that one block, the piece that had caused everything else to fall down around her.

It wasn’t the loss of popularity that bothered Lydia. She hated being the centre of attention. Being popular was the last thing she had wanted. What bothered her the most was the loss of respect. Perhaps, she thought at that moment, the respect had never been there in the first place. Some of these people, these people who were supposed to be fans, didn’t seem to care about her well-being at all.

Lydia had idolised a few famous people in her youth. There had been many actors, writers, and directors whom she was a huge fan of, and she couldn’t imagine herself not respecting them and demanding something from them that they didn’t want to give.

It hurt.

The realisation that she meant very little to a lot of these people who claimed to appreciate her was devastating.

And now she sat there, feeling empty, feeling nothing.

She quickly shifted her gaze to her hand, the one that she had touched Betelgeuse with. And somewhere, deep within the emptiness, was a pleasant tingle.

Lydia closed her eyes, suddenly craving his touch again, craving his comfort. She wanted nothing more than to just curl up on the sofa and watch a movie with her friend, with his black and white blanket draped over her.

Lydia had grown to love their movie sessions. Slowly, over time, those movie sessions had become much more than what Betelgeuse had originally labelled “training sessions.” They had led to a development in their partnership, and Lydia smiled as she thought about Betelgeuse’s reactions to the many different movie scenes they had watched.

She had seen him express many different emotions. There were scenes where he would shout at the television while shaking his chalk-white fist at the screen. There were moments when he would throw his head back, and his booming laugh would fill the room.

And his reactions to all those different movie scenes were never predictable. He would laugh at the most inappropriate moments and become sad whenever the villains died. He would shake his head whenever a character made a sensible decision in a horror movie, muttering words such as “loser” and “wimp.” But he would also get angry if someone made the wrong decision, calling them a “fuckin’ idiot.”

And then there were moments when his reactions were just right, such as when they had watched Ghost. It was during these moments that Lydia would steal glances at him and study his expressions. Not too carefully and not for too long, of course, because she didn’t want him to catch her staring at him.

Sometimes he looked deep in thought, and Lydia would sit there, wanting so badly to know what he was thinking about. And sometimes he looked sad and moody, and despite Lydia growing to appreciate his loud, chaotic personality, she had come to realise that she also loved those brooding moments. Not that she wanted him to be sad and brooding, but she couldn’t help but appreciate the way his sharp features softened whenever he looked emotional.

Lydia never knew what he was going to say or do. He was like a huge bag of mystery, a bag that you could place your hand into and not know what you were going to pull out of it.

He was unpredictable.

And Lydia had grown to love that unpredictability.

All the negative feelings that she had felt about him as a result of their complicated past had slowly melted away over the weeks that they had gotten to know each other, replaced by a newfound appreciation of his strange personality.

It made every movie night and every event much more enjoyable. With him around, there was never a dull moment.

She should find him weird and inappropriate. Most people would. But she didn’t.

He was just as strange and unusual as she was.

And the thought of that caused the tiny tingle that was buried beneath the empty feeling within her to grow and spread throughout her body, filling her with happiness.

Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by her phone ringing loudly.

Lydia closed her eyes, the happiness quickly replaced by a nauseating feeling of dread as Robert’s name flashed up on her screen.

She couldn’t avoid him any longer. She had to take the call.

“Robert,” she greeted. “I’m sorry for –”

“Why the hell have you been ignoring my messages and calls, Lydia? I’m very upset.”

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Have you seen the forum? Have you seen what the fans are saying? This is a mess, Lydia. You need to come into the studio so that we can fix this.”

Lydia sighed. This was going to be difficult.

“Look, Robert, I just needed some time. I…”

“Oh, Lydia. I worked so hard to get you all those new fans. And now they’re all angry. I was right there in the venue, I could have helped you through it.”

“You left me!” said Lydia, raising her voice slightly. “You left me to deal with all those fans in the queue!”

Robert made a sound, and Lydia could sense him shaking his head at her words.

“You’re blaming me? Come on, Lydia. You know it’s not my fault. If it was so difficult for you, then why did you attend the convention?”

“You told me to!”

“Sweetheart, I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“You…I…”

Lydia frowned. For weeks, Robert had been forcing her to do things she hadn’t wanted to do. There was no way she was making it up. He had definitely told her to attend the convention.

“You told me,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “to attend the convention. I’m not imagining it, Robert.”

Robert gave a small laugh, then responded.

“You know I want what’s best for you, Lydia. Remember, when you’re happy, I'm happy. And the same goes for when you’re sad, too. If you’re upset, then I’m upset. I just want what’s best for you, Lydia. And you’re clearly not taking care of yourself.”

“I…”

“You should have avoided the convention. It would have prevented all this mess.”

“But you told me to go to –”

“Lydia, Lydia, Lydia. I’ve already told you, I would never force you. Did I drag you to the convention? Did I hold a gun to your head and make you go? No, I didn’t. You chose to go. You made the decision, despite knowing that you have anxiety problems.”

“But –”

“We need to discuss this in person. Get here as quickly as you can.”

And before Lydia could argue, he hung up.

She stood up and went to grab her coat, the feeling of nausea that was whooshing around in her stomach almost reaching the surface as she did so.

***

Robert shook his head as he scrolled through the latest influx of comments on the forum.

“It’s a mess,” he said. “A fucking mess.”

Lydia looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling small.

“You need therapy.”

Lydia’s head shot up.

“What?”

“Ther-a-py.”

He dragged the word out, long and slow, sounding very much like a parent speaking to their toddler. Lydia folded her arms.

“I’m not crazy,” she said. “Stop trying to make this my fault.”

“Darling, it is your fault. Look around you. Look on the forum. Whose else’s fault could it be?”

Lydia shook her head and bit her lip, trying hard not to get upset.

“You told me to go…”

Her voice was small and shaky, the words trailing off into the icy cold air of the studio’s meeting room.

“And I already told you that I would never force you to do something like that. A convention full of fans plus someone with severe anxiety issues equals a disaster. And now I’ve got to be the one to fix it all. It’s so stressful.”

He grimaced, and Lydia felt a twinge of guilt.

Was it her fault? Lydia remembered Robert asking her to attend to keep the fans happy, but he was now saying that the decision had been entirely her own.

“You said the fans would be unhappy if I didn’t go, I’m sure you did,” she said, her voice still small. “I remember you saying it.”

Robert sighed and shook his head dramatically.

“Your decision to go to the convention has made them unhappier than they would have been if you hadn’t gone. Think of all those poor fans, Lydia. They paid for a photo and didn’t get one. The event organisers will have to refund them. It’s not a good look for Ghost House.”

He handed his phone over to Lydia, still shaking his head. She took it from him, her eyes shifting to Ghost House’s Instagram page. There, beneath a photo of Lydia signing autographs at the convention, were dozens of nasty comments.

Lydia looked away, not wanting to read them, not wanting to feel any worse about herself than she already did.

“I think you need to look at them, Lydia. It’ll be a lesson for you.”

So Lydia looked at them, her heart hammering hard against her chest. The words entered her brain and buried themselves there, along with the many other negative things that she had been reading about herself since that day, weeks ago, when Robert had drawn her attention to the forum.

Betelgeuse’s attempts to defend Lydia at the convention also hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Terrible experience, one person had written. The guy who was Lydia’s handler was extremely rude to me when I got an autograph. Told me to “fuck off.” I won’t be attending Ghost Con ever again.

Is the guy who was Lydia’s handler her boyfriend or something? He never left her side. Guy was like a guard dog. Not a great experience for us fans who just wanted to chat to Lydia.

Lydia blushed a deep red as her eyes settled on the word “boyfriend.” She quickly scrolled up, and the next comment hit her straight in the chest.

Lydia Deetz is just one big joke. And her fans are the punchline. She’s a fake. A rude, snobby bitch who doesn’t deserve any fans. There were so many people waiting for a photo with her, and she let them all down. That anxiety attack was definitely fake. You could tell she was putting it on to get out of posing for photos. She’s a lazy fake who can’t see ghosts at all. Robert, if you’re reading this, please fire her.

A paragraph. Not just a single sentence. An entire paragraph of hateful words. Those words cut into Lydia like a knife, plunging deep into her chest and causing a huge open wound that immediately left her feeling exposed.

Vulnerable.

Biting her lip didn’t help this time. The tears that had been threatening to spill fell down her cheeks, leaving behind black streaks of mascara. Her breathing started to quicken, and she gasped, before placing the phone down on the table and burying her head in her hands.

She should have been cursing herself for breaking down in front of her manager, but she didn’t. Because at that moment, all Lydia could focus on was the comment she had just read.

She was fifty-two years old, and she still, at her age, couldn’t understand why people had to be so cruel. It was a harsh fact of life, she knew that. She had experienced it many times. But she would never understand it.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” came Robert’s smooth voice, his tone now soft. “I really am. But this…well…this is what happens when you don’t take care of yourself. We’ve just got to deal with the aftermath of this mess.”

Lydia felt him move nearer to her, and within seconds, his cold hands were on her shoulder. Unlike Betelgeuse’s cool touch, though, Robert’s touch made her squirm. Then, she felt him lift her head up, forcing her to look into his dark eyes.

“My darling, I just want what’s best for you. Look at the negativity that this has caused. All because you didn’t look after yourself.”

“You…told…me…to…go…”

The words came out between gasps. It had been a long time since Lydia had sobbed this hard.

“Oh, Lydia, we’ve been through this. I didn’t force you. I would never force you. You made the decision. And now the damage is done. But don’t worry, I’m going to fix it for you. I’ll make it all better for you. You just have to trust me. You don’t need anyone else. I can save you from this mess.”

He held Lydia’s face firmly in place and then, slowly, he leaned forward and pressed his cool lips against hers.

And this time, Lydia didn’t fight it.

She was in such a state, so overwhelmed and confused, that at that moment, she welcomed any kind of physical contact with anyone. Robert’s long tongue parted her lips and entered her mouth.

And like the last time he had done this, Lydia felt the air being sucked out of her. The sensation quickly passed, but it was enough for her to come to her senses and try and pull away.

“Robert, I…I don’t want this. It isn’t appropriate for us to…”

“It’s just a little kiss, Lydia. I’m just trying to make you feel better. You want to feel better, don’t you?”

Lydia nodded.

“Good. Now let’s discuss how we’re going to get out of this mess. We’re almost in spring, and you know what that means, don’t you?”

Lydia didn’t answer. Instead, she wiped her eyes, her body still shaking in the aftermath of the hard sobs.

“It's nearly time for Ghost House’s finale. And this time, we’re gonna have to give all those fans a really good show, especially after this incident with the convention. So…”

Robert reached over and grabbed a sheet of paper. He handed it to her, and Lydia’s eyes widened as she read the contents of the document.

“Silverstone Manor,” she muttered. “Robert, you know that we can’t do this one. There isn’t even a guest application for it. The manor is empty. I’ve heard a lot of dangerous things about it, too.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’ll be the perfect location for our final investigation of the season. I want you to be at your best for this, Lydia. The audience is going to love what I’ve got in store for them. I can’t reveal anything yet as I’m still making preparations, but I’ll let you know nearer the time. In the meantime, what about having some therapy sessions? Let’s work on that anxiety of yours. No pills. Just good therapy.”

“I…”

Robert leaned forward and kissed her again. Lydia tried to pull away, but he held her firmly in place.

“You want the show to do well, don’t you, Lydia?” he said, gently running a cool finger down her face.

Lydia nodded.

“And you can rely on me. Remember, you don’t need anyone else.”

Lydia placed her head in her hands, suddenly feeling tired from crying so much.

And when she looked up, Robert had gone.

***

Lydia was still upset when she called her business partner later that evening. Betelgeuse appeared in seconds, his expression immediately morphing into one of concern when he caught sight of her leaning on Adam’s model.

“You ok?”

Lydia quickly nodded. But then her face slowly scrunched up as though she was in pain, and after a few seconds, she shook her head and burst into tears. The heaving sobs from earlier that day had left her feeling exhausted, and she no longer had any control over her emotions.

That paragraph, that damn hateful paragraph, had left her feeling vulnerable. The wound was still wide open.

Lydia reached out, still sobbing, and grasped the sleeve of her business partner’s jacket.

Betelgeuse stared at her, his eyes immediately softening.

“I…I…”

Struggling to speak, she reached down and grabbed his hand again, holding it tightly. Then, still breathing hard, she held out her phone with her other hand. Betelgeuse, who only ever browsed the comments on the forum and had never visited the show’s Instagram page, stared at the hateful paragraph in front of him.

“Jesus…”

Scowling, he let go of her hand, snatched the phone off her, and, without thinking, started to type.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Are you seriously gonna let this idiot talk about you like that?”

“I…”

Lydia continued to cry.

Betelgeuse stopped typing and stared at her for a few moments.

“Ya know what? I’m gonna let you type out the reply.”

“But…I…”

“Come on, Lyds, you can’t let people speak about you like that.”

“Robert said it was my fault. The incident at the convention. He told me to go to it, but now he’s saying that I shouldn’t have gone. He’s saying I caused this.”

“Of course he is,” said Betelgeuse through gritted teeth.

“Is it my fault?”

“I ain’t even gonna answer that question, Lydia, because you should already know the answer.”

“It is, isn’t it? It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have gone to it. Why do I have to be like this? Why can’t I just be normal?”

“Where's the fuckin' fun in bein' normal? Ain't nothin' wrong with not bein' normal.”

“Why can’t I just like large crowds?" Lydia continued, gesturing wildly with her hands. "Why can’t I just learn to cope with things? Why…why…”

She fell to the floor and broke down. Betelgeuse sighed and sat down next to her. Lydia’s shoulders shook as she sobbed into her sleeve.

She wanted, so desperately, for him to comfort her. Hand holding, she had learned, hadn’t broken the contract. Whether this was because it hadn’t been a romantic gesture, Lydia wasn’t sure. But right now, she just wanted a hug.

Would a hug be inappropriate? Surely some business partners shared a hug if they became friends? Would it break the contract?

“Maybe I am going crazy,” she said, her voice muffled as she spoke into her sleeve. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“I know you do. And I know exactly why you do and exactly who is makin' you feel that way. But I ain’t gonna bother tellin’ you because this is somethin’ you need to figure out for yourself, Lyds. You need to start fightin’ all these fuckers that are makin’ you feel bad. Get your confidence back.”

“I…I don’t know how…It’s just gone…my confidence has just gone.”

She looked up at him.

“How do you do it?” she asked. “How do you manage to always be so…confident. So nonchalant? Nothing ever bothers you. I wish I could be like that.”

Betelgeuse let out a small laugh.

“You just learn,” he said, shrugging. “Life wasn’t easy when I was alive, and it ain’t much better when you’re dead either. You just find a way to get through it and for me, it was learnin’ not to give a shit about anythin’ or anyone.”

Lydia stared at him in awe, her eyes drinking in those unique features. He was sitting so close to her, and Lydia could see every line, every detail, on his face. Her heart hammered like it always did whenever he spoke about his experiences in life and death.

“I had to learn the hard way,” he said, and Lydia continued to stare, waiting in anticipation, desperate to learn more about this mysterious ghost.

“My ex-wife…”

Lydia breathed in, her heart still pounding, waiting. This was it. This was the topic that she had always been so desperate to learn more about. His ex-wife. The tall, beautiful woman whom he had said meant nothing to him.

“She killed me.”

The silence that followed his words hung in the air, and Lydia slowly let out the breath that she had been holding. The words hit her like a truck, and she sat there, her mouth hanging open in shock. Finally, after a few moments, she spoke.

“What…how…”

“Poisoned me.”

Lydia wanted to ask more questions. Needed to ask more questions. But she didn’t. Despite the desperation, she patiently waited for him to continue.

“I was vulnerable, like you. Stuck in a shitty life. It was just an existence back then, durin’ the Black Plague.”

He sniggered and shook his head.

“I told the Maitlands, when I met ‘em, that I had a pretty good time during the Black Plague, but that was bullshit. There was no life during those hard times, no happy endin’ in sight. But then she came along…”

Betelgeuse paused and let out a hollow laugh.

“And I fell for her. I fell in love with her. We married, had a ceremony and everythin.’ Bit the heads off a couple of chickens…”

If Lydia hadn’t been so desperate to learn more about Betelgeuse’s backstory, she would have pulled a face in disgust. But she felt no disgust at all. Instead, she simply sat there, her mouth still hanging open.

“Then we fucked each other. Or for the prudish fuckers who prefer a politer way of puttin’ it…consummated the marriage.”

His voice changed to a posh, mocking tone as he uttered the last part of the sentence, his face full of bitterness.

Lydia immediately closed her mouth and looked away, blushing. She felt a sudden stab of something unpleasant in her stomach and tried to ignore it, but she couldn’t.

“Then she offered me a drink, and I took it, drank it the whole lot. Turns out it was poison. She was part of a soul sucking cult and wanted my life and soul to become immortal…”

He paused and let out a bitter laugh.

“In other words, I married a whack job.”

Lydia was silent as she tried to process this new information about her business partner. Finally, somehow, she managed to speak.

“So how did she…”

“I killed her.”

Lydia frowned, and upon noticing her expression, Betelgeuse elaborated.

“I cut her up with an axe before the poison took effect.”

He fell silent then, and Lydia studied his expression. He scowled, staring at the floor, and shook his head.

“After my death, I was angry at myself for months. Fuckin’ years. Centuries. Until one day…I wasn't. I realised that my death wasn’t my fault, it was hers.”

He looked up at Lydia then and smiled affectionately at her.

“And that’s it. There’s nothin’ else I can say. I just learned, Lyds. I’ve had negative comments all through life and death. And the day that I realised that my death wasn’t my fault, I stopped givin’ a shit and decided to focus on usin’ it to my advantage. I stopped lettin’ other people’s opinions bother me.”

Lydia’s heart clenched painfully as she listened to his words.

“Have you ever told anyone else that your ex-wife murdered you?”

“Tried to. Several fuckin’ times. But no one listened. No one cared. All I got was a shitload of clerical duties. Juno, my old boss, didn’t give a fuck. Didn’t wanna listen. To her, I was just a grimy troublemaker. A fuckin’ nuisance. She wasn’t wrong. I was a pain in the ass. But I had to be. It was the only way to get through it.”

In that moment, Lydia finally understood. His desperation to get out of the afterlife, his attempts to marry her. Lydia finally got it.

He had been deceived by his ex-wife, just like she had been deceived by Rory. He had been tricked into marrying her. Had been murdered.

It made sense that he would be so desperate to gain back the life that had been snatched away from him. He leaned closer to her and placed his finger gently under her chin, forcing her brown eyes to meet his blue ones.

“The confidence you lost will come back, Lyds. It did for me. You just have to let it. Don’t let anybody tear ya down. And those comments? Fuck ‘em. These people, these so-called fans. They don’t give a shit about ya. They never did. Focus on the people who do.”

“Is…is that what you did? Did you focus on the people who cared about you?”

Betelgeuse’s smile faltered, and he looked away.

“I didn’t have anyone who did.”

The statement hit Lydia hard in the chest. In the aftermath of Rory’s deceit, she had had Astrid to lean on. But Betelgeuse hadn’t had anyone.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft. “I’m so sorry.”

Betelgeuse shifted his gaze back to her and shrugged.

“It is what it is,” he said, his tone nonchalant.

And this time, that nonchalance that had played a large part in Lydia’s attraction to him caused her heart to ache, and she reached out and grasped his hand. He looked down, smiling weakly, and Lydia took it a step further.

She stood up, pulling him up with her with great difficulty as she did so. He reached his full height and looked down at her, frowning. Then, Lydia slowly wrapped her arms around his belly and gently rested her head on his chest.

She felt him freeze against her. Her heart hammered hard against her chest at the close proximity, and she was sure that Betelgeuse would feel it beating. Then, slowly, he wrapped his arms around her and held her. Lydia closed her eyes in contentment. It felt so good. So damn good. She couldn’t see Betelgeuse’s expression. She couldn’t see that he had his eyes closed and was relishing her touch just as much as she was relishing his.

They stood like that for a while.

But the contract didn’t break.

Lydia had simply offered her friend the comfort he had never been given in the aftermath of his death, and, in turn, he was giving Lydia the comfort she needed at that moment. Slowly, the trust for him that she had struggled to find started to build up, and at that moment, Lydia had never felt so safe.

And as they stood there, holding each other, neither of them had any idea that Rory had already started putting his plans to get rid of them both permanently into action.

He was one step closer to finally achieving his goal.

Chapter Text

Betelgeuse could count the number of times he had felt pure happiness during his death on one hand.

The first had been when he had finally managed to find the strength, among all the anger and bitterness that he had felt at his premature death, to escape the mundanity of being Juno’s assistant and finally become a freelance bio-exorcist.

The second had been when he had been summoned for the very first time by a ghost who had found his flyers and business cards lying around. The job hadn’t been a success, though, because Betelgeuse had been far more chaotic back then, and the potential client had been put off by his crude, loud personality. But that didn’t change how happy Betelgeuse had initially felt at being summoned by someone.

The third time was when he managed to capture a huge bug successfully. Some of those fuckers were damn hard to catch, but they sure did taste good. Betelgeuse didn’t give a fuck if he was judged for eating bugs. Those things are a delicacy in some cultures. Also, he’s a dead guy, and it’s not like there’s much else for ghosts to eat in the afterlife.

The fourth time was when he successfully set up his bio-exorcist business. This had been a huge turning point in his career because he had felt like he was finally achieving something. Gone was the chaotic freelance bio-exorcist from the early days of his death, replaced by a professional business owner with his own office and a whole load of workers.

The fifth time was when Lydia Deetz had hugged him.

Betelgeuse was sitting there now at his desk, unable to believe it. The hand holding had been a shock, but the hug? Well, that had blown him away. He would never have thought that Lydia would ever hug him willingly.

No one had ever hugged him willingly. Well, maybe his mother all those centuries ago, before he had died, but being in the afterlife for six hundred years had caused some of his memories of his childhood to be hazy, so he couldn’t be totally sure.

But Lydia had got up off the floor, pulled him up with her and wrapped her arms around him. She had been the one to instigate the affection. And he had frozen. His body had stiffened, not used to such affection. But God, it had felt good. She had felt good.

Betelgeuse closed his eyes, not wanting to ever forget how soft, small and fragile Lydia had felt in his arms. Like a piece of glass that could be broken if it wasn’t handled gently.

She had felt perfect.

He hadn’t wanted it to end.

They had stood like that for a while, arms wrapped around each other, neither one wanting to move. The urge to run his hands over her back had been so strong, and it had taken a lot for Betelgeuse to resist doing so. She had hugged him first, and he didn’t want to push it. He didn’t want to push the affection into forbidden territory.

Any other kind of touch, anything that seemed inappropriate, could cause the contract to break at any moment. But because Lydia had touched him willingly, as a friend giving comfort, everything was fine. The deal was still in place.

Betelgeuse let out a hollow laugh and shook his head.

She would never have wanted you to touch her like that anyway, you lovesick fucker.

She wouldn’t have wanted him to run his hands all over her back because there was no way that she would ever want him like that.

Holding her had awakened the desire he was so desperately trying to put to rest and caused it to burn inside of him again. It had been so damn hard. So hard not to lean down and capture her warm lips with his cool ones.

He wanted her so much.

And the fact that he couldn’t have her, the fact that she would never love him, filled him with sadness. But it didn’t take away the happiness he had felt at finally holding her. It had been a massive development for him, even if it wasn’t going to lead anywhere.

He was just happy to be able to touch her. That was enough for him.

And as he sat there at his desk, he smiled as he thought back to the moment when they had finally pulled apart, Lydia’s shy expression still burned into his brain.

“S-sorry,” she had muttered.  “I just…I needed that. And I…I thought you might need it too.”

Then she had cried again, still broken and exhausted from the events of the day. Beaten down by hateful comments and an asshole of a manager whose cruel, manipulative actions she was still failing to see through. And Betelgeuse had wanted to pull her back into his embrace. To wrap his arms around her and protect her from all the people who had posted those cruel comments. To protect her from Rory.

Betelgeuse wasn’t sure if Lydia was ever going to figure it out, but what he did know for sure was that time was running out. Despite the incident at the convention, Ghost House was still a success and making money, and it wouldn’t be long before Rory would achieve his goal of getting his hands on that money.

He drummed his long fingernails on his desk, frowning. What, he wondered, would Rory do with the money once he had taken it? What was his plan? There were shops in the afterlife, but being rich wouldn’t bring much to a ghost’s death. Once you’re dead, you’re dead. No amount of money can fix the injuries a person died with, nor could it get them a nice house or a nice afterlife, certainly not while they were waiting for their ticket to the Soul Train.

Many ghosts had to spend a large amount of time in the afterlife before they were able to move on to the comfortable surroundings of The Great Beyond. And that time in between, the years spent in the afterlife before that final journey is taken, quickly frankly, in Betelgeuse’s opinion, sucked. He had enough experience to confidently tell that to any freshly deceased person. No amount of money would make the afterlife a better place.

There was, of course, the possibility that Rory could continue possessing this Forrester guy and spend the remaining years of his afterlife posing as a living person, but the human body can only take so much possession. Eventually, Forrester would end up dying, his body no longer able to cope with having a ghost stuck inside of him. And what would Rory do then?

There was also the possibility of him finding another person to use as his puppet. Like an alien invading a human’s body, using it as a host for selfish purposes and then tossing it away when it was no longer needed.

He had to be stopped.

And Betelgeuse was starting to panic, because Wolf was refusing to go up there and catch the lying, manipulative piece of shit. He could take matters into his own hands, but Rory’s abilities now matched Betelgeuse’s own and with the addition of the soul sucking abilities that he had gained from Delores after being digested with her in that sandworm’s stomach, the fucker was probably indestructible.

He placed his head in his hands, once again feeling responsible. If only he had known the damage setting the sandworm on Delores and Rory would cause.

You sure fucked up, Geuse.

Betelgeuse scowled, then pulled his phone out of his jacket, suddenly needing to fill his head with something else. He accessed Ghost House’s forum and quickly scrolled through the latest messages.

Then he began his daily routine of replying to all the nasty ones, while also writing the words of praise that he so desperately wanted to utter to Lydia’s face.

***

Lydia could count the number of times that she had craved affection throughout her life on one hand. She had never been an overly affectionate person, but, like most people, there were times when she had needed the comfort of someone’s touch.

The first time had been when her pet cat, Mr. Smokey, had died when she was just six years old. Her mother had still been around then and had given Lydia the comfort she had needed. The hug had felt warm and safe, but that safety had been ripped away the day that Lydia’s mother had left and abandoned her. Lydia had started to lose her trust in people that day, but she had never forgotten how good that hug had felt.

The second time had been during a break-up with Mike, her first boyfriend, who she had met at college. Heartbroken by the end of the relationship, which had happened because they were not compatible, Lydia had desperately wanted some affection during that vulnerable moment. But there had been no one to give her any. She had blamed herself in the aftermath, knowing that the relationship had failed because Mike had eventually grown tired of her strange and unusual personality.

The third time had been when Astrid was a baby, and Lydia had been struggling to adjust to motherhood. This time, the comfort had come from Richard, and while Lydia would always be grateful for the support he had shown her, those memories always caused an ache in her heart. They were a painful reminder of what she and Richard could have been if the differences in their interests hadn’t ripped them apart. Once again, Lydia had blamed herself for the breakdown of the relationship.

The fourth time had been after Richard’s death, and this time, it had been Delia who had been there to give Lydia the comfort she needed. The strained relationship between Lydia and her stepmother had, very slowly, started to strengthen during Lydia’s adult years. Delia’s eccentricities had become more pronounced with age, but so had her love for Lydia, and she had finally become the supportive mother figure that Lydia had needed.

The fifth time was when she had summoned Betelgeuse and shown him that hateful paragraph that had been written on Ghost House’s Instagram page.

Now that she thought about it, Lydia realised that there had been a lot of moments lately when she had needed affection, because she had been craving it every time she had done a difficult assignment since her deal with Betelgeuse had started.

Weeks of nasty comments, emotionally draining assignments and sad scenes during their movie sessions had all left her wanting more affection than she had ever needed in her entire life.

If someone had told her, a year ago, that she would want Betelgeuse to hold her, that she would be fighting an urge to kiss him, Lydia would have been disgusted. Traumatised. But now she sat there, a huge smile on her face as she thought back to how good it had felt being in the arms of the ghost who had been a presence in her life for all these years.

He had felt so solid, so...alive. Nothing like some of the translucent spirits that she had encountered throughout her years of being able to see and communicate with ghosts. And Lydia had felt so safe. Despite him being cold and dead, his hug had filled her with a warmth that she hadn’t felt since that hug from her mother all those years ago.

Lydia had wanted, so badly, for him to run his hands up and down her back. She had had to stop herself from pleading with him to rub her back, to graze his cool fingers over the thin material of her clothing. But that would have been entering forbidden territory, and Lydia couldn’t risk that. She couldn’t risk breaking her own rules, not when there was still Ghost House’s finale to get through.

The thought of it filled Lydia with dread.

After all those difficult assignments, she was ready for a break. She wanted to get away from it all, to put the forum and all the negative comments posted on it behind her. But she couldn’t. Not just yet.

She was almost at the finish line.

And once she reached it, she would be able to enjoy a long break until the return of the show around Halloween. Months of peace. Months to focus on her photography hobby and to continue running Delia’s art gallery, a responsibility that Lydia had reluctantly taken on after her stepmother’s death.

But that break would mean that she wouldn’t need to see Betelgeuse for months.

And the thought of that was crushing her.

She had grown so used to his company, his presence. They had become friends, and Lydia’s heart ached at the thought of not being able to have any more movie sessions with him.

She could, of course, still summon him, but Betelgeuse usually wanted something in return. Despite their new friendship, Lydia still didn’t believe that he would ever do something without asking for something in return. Everything he had done for her, all the times he had kept her safe over the past few weeks, was because of their deal. In return, he was gaining clients and growing his bio-exorcist business.

Keeping her safe benefited him.

So, Lydia wondered, what would she be able to give him in return if she were to summon him and ask him to help ease the loneliness that was sure to come back when Ghost House was no longer filming? Would he simply want her company in return? She wasn’t sure.

After learning about his past and that his life was cruelly taken from him, Lydia couldn’t blame him for wanting to get out of the afterlife. And despite telling him that she didn’t want any more marriage attempts, Lydia could no longer deny that her feelings on that had now changed.

He deserved happiness and freedom, and Lydia had realised, as they were hugging each other, that she would now willingly give him that if he still wanted it. She would be his ticket to the living world, even if the thought of him using her solely for that purpose broke her heart.

But the deal was still in place. It couldn’t be broken yet. They still needed to work together for Ghost House’s finale.

Lydia took a deep breath and, thinking about the words that Betelgeuse had spoken to her before they had hugged, when he had told her that the fans didn’t care about her, she decided to avoid looking at the forum.

***

The slurping sounds were nothing short of disgusting, utterly grotesque, and yet somehow, they were so damn satisfying to his ears. Rory’s eyes widened, and his mouth curved up into a grin as he watched the ghost opposite him feeding on its meal.

Screeches and wails rang out around the room as the unfortunate spirit that Rory had captured was feasted upon.

Finding a meal for the ghost who was currently haunting Silverstone Manor had been easy. Ghost House’s studio was haunted, so he was easily able to capture one of the ghosts that lurked around there and bring it to the manor.

Before his death, he hadn’t believed in ghosts. But as soon as he had gained access to the studio after his death, he had immediately seen all the ghosts that he had heard Lydia interacting with. The ones that he hadn't believed had existed. Going through that transformation had given him many special abilities and as a result, he was able to materialise wherever he wanted, just like that grimy Betelgeuse.

Thanks to the six-hundred-year-old ghost who had once terrified him, he was now almost indestructible. And his fear of Betelgeuse had died the moment he had been digested by the sandworm.

He watched in awe as the ghost opposite him chewed on the poor spirit that he had lured there, thick black blood running down the Ghost Eater’s chin as it did so. The evil spirit hadn’t just eaten the ghost’s soul, it had completely devoured the entire ghost and digested it, killing it permanently and gaining strength from its essence.

And it was hungry for more.

The Ghost Eater licked its lips as it finished its meal, smearing black blood around its mouth as it did so.

“I want more,” it breathed, its greedy growling tone distorting its heavy accent.

“Soon, my love. Soon.”

Rory’s voice echoed throughout the manor’s ice-cold living room. He ran his hand along the dusty, battered armchair he was sitting on and took a long sniff, breathing in the musty odour of the old, torn fabric and relishing the feel of the material under Forrester's fingers. 

The spirit positioned opposite let out a low growl, the noise rumbling deep in its throat. Black blood and saliva dripped off its sharp teeth, and the ghost studied Rory through dark brown eyes. Its once beautiful face was scrunched up in frustration, and it drummed its long fingernails on the manor’s cold floor, a sign that its patience was wearing thin.

“I need more,” it said, its expression full of greed and longing.

“I need to make a few preparations first,” said Rory, examining Forrester’s nails. “The convention was a shit show and Ghost House is getting some backlash. It’s gonna be hard to carry out my plan while Lydia is acting pathetic over a few negative comments.”

“Just let me have them both,” the evil spirit opposite him said, its eyes flashing dangerously. “I am…starving.”

Rory shook his head.

“I can’t do that,” he said. “I need her. I’ve got plans for her. As soon as I’m ready, I’ll be able to get her right where I need her. She’s weak. Pathetic. Easy to manipulate. And as for him…”

Rory let out a bark of laughter.

“You’ll be fed soon. I promise.”

“Don’t disappoint me.”

Rory pushed himself off the chair and studied the spirit who was glaring up at him, watching as its mouth curved up into a snarl.

“My darling, I will never disappoint you. I promise you that Ghost House’s finale will help us both to achieve our goals. We will have everything we want, and they will both be gone forever. Revenge, my dear, will be sweet.”

The spirit let out another rumbling growl, and Rory took a step towards it, before reaching and brushing its cold, grey skin with his hand.

“I’ll be back soon. You’ll get another meal, don’t you worry about that.”

The Ghost Eater placed its hand over Forrester’s and stroked his fingers.

“Don’t be long, my soulmate.”

“I won’t, my love, I won’t. I'll be back very soon.”

And then he walked away, his mouth curving up into a smirk as he did so.

Chapter Text

Lydia couldn’t say exactly when people’s opinions of her had started to bother her to the point where she could not focus on anything else. During her teenage years, there were times when negative comments had hurt, but she had quickly gotten over them. Now she would dwell on them for days, dissecting every part of the comment and analysing it over and over.

If she had to guess, the struggle to move on from such comments had started sometime after the breakdown of her marriage to Richard and after Rory had revealed his deceit in the church. The wounds caused by both of those events had not healed, and week by week afterwards, Lydia’s confidence had slowly started to be ripped away.

Richard was one of the kindest men she had ever had a relationship with. He was honest, loyal, and trustworthy. The kind of man that any woman would want to spend their life with. But as Lydia’s strange and unusual interests became more pronounced in the years that they were together, Richard’s patience had slowly worn thin, and their relationship had finally come to a halt one evening after weeks of arguments.

Lydia remembered it well. Astrid had been a very young child back then, and it had been hard trying to keep the cracks in the relationship a secret. She had been a very observant child, and Lydia closed her eyes, feeling a stab of pain as she thought back to the aftermath of that explosive argument, during which she and Richard had decided to end their marriage.

“Don’t you love daddy anymore?” her daughter had asked, as Lydia scooped her up and held her close, breathing in her scent.

And Lydia had tried to explain, as best as she could, that they did still love each other, but sometimes, things just don’t work out.

But the truth was, Richard didn’t love her. She had thought, when he proposed to her, that he had accepted her for who she was. But during that argument on the night when they had agreed to end their marriage, Richard had told her exactly how he felt.

“You know what, Lydia? I’ve tried, I really have,” he had said. “But this…I can’t…there are issues. Real-life issues that I need to focus on. And this?”

Lydia closed her eyes as she thought back to him gesturing wildly around the room.

“I can’t do this anymore. Climate justice is important to me. It’s an important thing. And it’s…it’s real, Lydia.”

“Unlike ghosts? That’s what you’re trying to get at, isn’t it?” Lydia had responded, folding her arms. “That my interests aren’t real. That they’re fake. That I’m fake.”

Richard hadn’t responded to those words, instead choosing to remain silent. And that had been enough for Lydia. That day, she had lost her trust in Richard. It became clear, on that evening, that they no longer had anything in common and maybe never had. He had spent years trying to support her and had always willingly participated in any ghost-themed events. Halloween had always been an enjoyable event, and that was why Lydia had never been able to bring herself to get rid of all the family photos that had been taken at those events.

But that evening, during that argument, his true feelings came out, and Lydia’s trust in people, the trust that she had started to lose when her mother had walked out, started to break even more.

And then Rory happened.

Rory had seemed like a nice guy when she had first met him, and Lydia had felt an instant connection as they both bonded over their traumas. But when Lydia finally found out, in that church, that his trauma had never even existed, that he thought her ability to see ghosts was “bullshit” and that he only wanted her money, all the confidence and trust that had slowly built up during their relationship came tumbling down again.

And every incident of someone judging or making negative comments about her since then had been painful, like salt being rubbed into those open wounds.

 It had been days since she had last visited the forum, and despite initially following Betelgeuse’s advice and trying to forget her so-called fans, she couldn’t help but feel curious about what was being written about her. Lydia knew that any pain caused by looking at the comments was self-inflicted. She was choosing to do it. She was ignoring her business partner’s advice.

And there she sat, scrolling through the latest influx of posts. People were still angry about her leaving the convention, and several others were complaining that they still hadn’t received a refund for the photographs that had never been taken.

And Lydia felt guilty. She put her phone down and sighed, Robert’s words circling her brain. He was right. She should never have gone to the convention, knowing that it would make her anxiety worse.

Not even her biggest fan, RedSupergiant, could cheer her up right now.

The behaviour of that young male fan had been inappropriate, but there had been lots of other people who had paid for a photo. The queue had been massive, and the fact that all those people hadn’t yet received a refund caused Lydia’s guilt to worsen.

She wanted, so desperately, to get Ghost House’s finale over with so that she could have a few months of peace. A few months for her anxiety-riddled brain to rest.

Sighing, she dialled Robert’s number. He answered immediately, as though he had been expecting her to call.

“Lydia? Everything ok?”

“I just…you were right…about the convention. I shouldn’t have gone.”

“I know you shouldn’t.”

“I know you said you were going to fix this for me, but I was thinking that maybe…maybe I could fix it by sending out some headshots to people. Some signed photographs?”

Robert sighed heavily, and Lydia could sense him closing his eyes in disagreement.

“That’s not gonna fix this mess, Lydia. The fans wanted a photo with you. They don’t want a boring headshot with a signature on it. They want to pose with you. To touch you.”

“It’s not a bad thing to not want to be touched by lots of random people, Robert. Lots of celebrities request it when they do those events.”

“And those celebrities are ungrateful. Never bite the hand that feeds you, Lydia. You should be grateful to those fans. Without them, you’re nothing.”

Lydia wanted to argue that it was her ability to see and communicate with the dead that had enabled her to have a successful career as a presenter on a show about ghosts, but she didn’t have the energy.

“Look, why don’t you come into the studio? We can talk?”

“I can’t,” said Lydia quickly. “I…I’m feeling tired, Robert. It was just an idea I had so that we wouldn’t have to worry about refunds.”

“We don’t have to worry about the refunds, sweetheart. That’s for the event organisers to worry about. The people running it. But you do owe the fans for letting them down, and a signed photo just isn’t going to cut it. So, I suggest an apology video on the Instagram account.”

Lydia’s stomach dropped. Despite addressing a camera many times throughout her career, she hated taking videos of herself.

“I don’t…”

“I can film it for you. You can wear your dress again…”

“Robert, I really don’t want to –”

He hung up. Lydia frowned and moved her phone away from her ear. Seconds later, there was a knock at the door, which caused her to jump.

She sat there, her heart hammering, not wanting to answer. But as the knocking continued, growing louder each time, she knew she had no choice.

And when she finally reached the door and opened it, a feeling of dread filled her, causing her to feel sick with nerves.

Robert stood there grinning at her, his phone clutched tightly in his hand.

“How did you…”

Lydia’s words trailed off as he pushed past her.

“So,” he said. “Let’s get started.”

“Robert, I really don’t want to do this now.”

“Now is the best time, Lydia. It’s been days. The fans want that apology. It’s a far better way to fix this than sending out the signed photos like you suggested. Did you seriously think that would make everything better?”

Lydia studied him, watching as he stood there with his hands on his hips, his expression full of disbelief.

And, like she had done the past few times she had been close to him, Lydia suddenly felt small and foolish.

Robert’s features softened slightly, and he slowly approached her.

“I just want to help you fix this mess that you caused. Take a deep breath or whatever it is you do to calm yourself, and let’s get started. Oh…and go and put the dress on.”

“I don’t want to wear the dress, Robert. Please…just…just let me do this in the clothes I’m already wearing.”

Robert stared at her for a few seconds before responding.

“Fine,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “Fine. Do whatever you want. But just remember, Lydia, that you’ve really upset some of those fans. The least you could do is show a little bit of skin to cheer them up.”

“I…”

Lydia's words trailed off, and she sighed heavily as she headed towards the bedroom to change.

“Good girl,” Robert called after her.

***

Lydia watched as Robert pressed a button on his phone, shaking his head as he did so.

“You need to sound a little more bothered, Lydia.”

Lydia groaned. They had been trying to film her apology video for an hour, but everything she had said, all her mannerisms and even the way her hair had looked had all been criticised by Robert.

“I am bothered, Robert. We’ve been doing this for an hour now, I’m getting tired. I’ve said I’m sorry, I don’t know what more I can do.”

“That’s…that’s not a good attitude to have.”

“For god’s sake,” snapped Lydia, standing up and running a hand through her hair. “I’m trying my best! Look, I didn’t even want to go to that convention in the first place, and I told you I didn’t! And you tried to make me feel guilty for not wanting to go. So I went, and then you tell me I shouldn’t have gone, and now I’m feeling guilty because I went and…and…”

Lydia’s voice cracked and trailed off, and she rubbed a hand over her face, breathing hard. She glanced at Robert, who was sitting there shaking his head.

“This is why you need therapy, sweetheart. What you did just then, still blaming me for the whole convention incident? Well, that’s…it’s just not acceptable. You need help, Lydia.”

“I…I…”

Robert stood up, and Lydia was immediately engulfed in the icy breeze that seemed to follow him around.

“For weeks, I have tried to help you. Weeks of carefully selecting assignments, helping you to change the way you dress to enhance your appeal to Ghost House’s audience. I threw a celebration party for you, exposed that dirtbag Jeff when he spiked your drink. I have done everything I can for you, Lydia. And that outburst just then? Well, that hurt.”

He brought a hand up to his chest, and his face crumpled up in despair.

“I…”

“I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you. It’s always been for you. And this is how you repay me? By continuing to blame me for what happened at the convention? Darling, you have severe anxiety issues. You shouldn’t have gone. It was your decision. Those fans are upset because of you. Not me.”

Lydia burst into tears, overwhelmed by it all, her manager’s words circling her head. Suddenly, she felt like a terrible person. He was right. He had done everything for her, and she was being ungrateful.

Or maybe she was just going crazy. That’s how it felt right now.

She felt Robert place a cool finger underneath her chin, and her warm brown eyes met his cold, black ones.

“You’re not looking after yourself properly, Lydia. And you’re lashing out. Let me get that therapy sorted for you. God knows you need it. And I’m sorry, sweetheart, but these videos just aren’t good enough. I know you feel guilty for running out of that convention, and so you should. And this apology needs to be genuine. So, we’ll try and film it again in a couple of days.”

Lydia sniffled and tried to move her face away, but Robert pushed her head up, forcing her to focus on his gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” she said weakly. “I’m sorry for losing my temper.”

“Good girl,” he said. “I’ll let it go this time, but remember what I said, Lydia. If you’re unhappy, then that makes me unhappy, and today, you’ve made me very unhappy.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, still sniffling.

“Let’s have a break for a few days, then we’ll film the video. I’ll send you the details for Ghost House’s finale. I want to give the audience a show that they will never forget, Lydia. And I need you to be at your best for it, ok?”

Lydia nodded, still looking up at him.

And then he leaned down and pressed his cool lips against hers again. Lydia froze, her body unable to fight it. She felt her lips being pushed apart by his ice-cold tongue and that same sensation, the sensation of something being sucked out of her, filled her, rooting her to the spot.

And then he quickly pulled away and licked his lips. Still overwhelmed, Lydia stood there, unable to move or speak.

“I’ll be in touch,” Robert said, before exiting the house.

Very slowly, Lydia followed him, once again searching for the car that had enabled him to travel to Winter River so impossibly fast.

But like last time, there was no car.

Lydia stared, too overwhelmed and confused to notice the thin wisps of black smoke that lingered in the air.

***

Astrid was out, and Lydia had never craved conversation with her daughter as much as she did at that moment. The encounter with Robert had left her feeling strangely empty, and now she needed comfort from someone she was familiar with to fill that emptiness.

So, as she sat there, waiting and wondering when Astrid would return home, Lydia found herself turning to the only other person who had been a comfort to her lately.

And as she uttered her business partner’s name three times, she could already feel that emptiness starting to fill.

Betelgeuse appeared instantly, and the first thing that Lydia noticed was that he looked a little stressed. His expression quickly crumpled into one of concern as his eyes raked over Lydia’s small form, which was curled up on the sofa.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.

“Bad day,” Lydia mumbled in reply. “You look like you’re having one too.”

Betelgeuse nodded and let out a bitter laugh.

“Sure am,” he said. “Just lost a client.”

“What? Why?”

“The fucker didn’t agree with the way I frightened the people in his house. Said I’d taken it too far because there were kids involved. Not sure how else he was expectin’ me to get rid ‘em.”

“Oh.”

Betelgeuse shrugged.

“Not gonna lie, I’m pissed off about it but what the hell can I do? His loss.”

Lydia felt a pleasant bubble of something in her stomach as he sat down next to her, his knees brushing hers as he did so.

“So, what’s up?”

Lydia told him about the encounter with Robert and how she had lost her temper with him while they had been trying to film her apology, and that she now felt guilty.

“So lemme get this straight,” said Betelgeuse after she had finished speaking. “He wants you to apologise to the fans for havin’ an anxiety attack? Jesus, Lyds.”

“Well, I do owe them one.”

“Why?”

Betelgeuse's brows knitted together in confusion as he uttered the word in almost the same tone as he had in the attic all those years ago, when Lydia had told him that she wanted to get into the afterlife.

“Lots of fans paid for a photo, and I just…I ran out.”

“Yeah, because you were havin an anxiety attack.”

“But…”

“Lyds, I don’t know what it’s gonna take for you to realise what that fucker is tryin’ to do to you.”

“Robert’s right. I shouldn’t have gone to the convention.”

“He told you to go.”

“I know, but…but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to cope with it, and I still went, and…and now I feel guilty…”

“That’s how he wants you to feel, Lyds. He’s gaslighting you.”

Lydia frowned at him.

“I…no…no it’s not like that.”

“For fuck’s sake,” growled Betelgeuse, standing up and beginning to pace the room.

His snappy tone took her by surprise. She was silent for a few moments, and when she finally spoke again, her voice was small and strained.

 “Am I…am I going crazy?”

Betelgeuse stared at her and then, after a few moments, his face started to scrunch up in anger.

“I ain’t even gonna answer that. I’ve tried to tell ya, several times, exactly who it is who's causin’ you to think that way, but you still ain’t listenin.’ So let’s drop it right now.”

“But I just…I feel like I’m going crazy. Maybe that’s what all of this is. Maybe I’m just losing my mind. Do you think I’m losing my mind?”

“Do I look like a fuckin’ therapist to you? Quit askin’ me stupid questions.”

Betelgeuse practically spat the words at her, his gravelly tone full of impatience, with a hint of anger. His irritable tone hit Lydia in the gut, and she turned her face away, biting her lip hard.

Such irritability was highly uncharacteristic of him, especially with her, and Lydia wasn’t sure if it had come because of his bad day or because he truly was irritated by her at that moment. Whatever the reason, his words had hurt. They had travelled straight to her wounds and buried themselves into them, making the pain even worse.

And at that moment, she wondered if she would ever have someone she could turn to in times like these when that emptiness needed filling.

She closed her eyes, which were already starting to burn as her tears threatened to spill, and kept her face turned away from him.

So far today, she had managed to upset both Robert and Betelgeuse. And at that moment, she felt like a terrible person. And now, Betelgeuse probably didn’t want to be near her. She had annoyed the only proper friend she had ever had, and the thought of losing him was sending her into a panic.

Her breathing started to quicken.

Oh no.

Not now. It couldn’t be happening now.

Anxiety bubbled through her, her brain spitting unpleasant words at her.

See what you’ve done, Lydia? Even the ghost who has been in your life for years is getting tired of you. You’re a burden to everyone.

Lydia brought her arm up to her face, breathing hard into the fabric of her dress. Betelgeuse’s gravelly voice sounded from behind her.

“Shit…I…I’m so sorry, Lyds…I…”

Lydia shook her head, unable to speak as she continued to take deep breaths.

“I’ve had a fuckin’ shitty day but I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

She felt him sit down next to her, and then his hand was on her shoulder, which was shaking as she continued to breathe into the thin fabric of her dress. She kept her head turned away from him, not wanting him to see the state she was in. When she finally spoke, the words came out slowly between huge gasps.

“I’m…sorry…was selfish of me…to…to…you’ve had a bad day and I…I shouldn’t have…”

Lydia gave in and buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

“Hey…it’s ok.”

Betelgeuse's voice was soft, and she felt him gently rub her shoulder.

Lydia turned to look at him then, her face flushed with embarrassment. She knew she probably looked a mess, with streaks of makeup running down her face.

“You can go,” she managed to say. “I…shouldn’t have called you.”

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you and interrupted you. You’ve got far more important things to deal with.”

“Fuck the other things. You’re important.”

Lydia met his gaze properly then, studying his soft blue eyes with her own. She reached out for him, wanting comfort again. But then she pulled her arm back, thinking that it was wrong of her to expect such comfort from him when she had just irritated him. Betelgeuse tilted his head, still looking at her with that same soft expression, and then he spoke.

“C’mere,” he said softly and held his arms out.

And Lydia willingly (and very enthusiastically) went into them, sighing in contentment as they wrapped around her small frame. Her breathing immediately slowed down as she closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, speaking softly into her hair. “Shouldn’t have snapped at ya like that. I’m an asshole.”

“It’s ok,” said Lydia, sniffling against his chest. “I shouldn’t be talking about my problems when you’ve had a bad day.”

“Lyds, it’s fine.”

He sighed heavily and gently tilted her chin upwards, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“I bet you’ve been on that forum again too, haven’t ya?”

Lydia nodded, still staring up at him. Betelgeuse chuckled and shook his head.

“Just what the hell am I gonna do with ya? Huh? You never learn.”

His tone was laced with affection, and his thumb gently rubbed her chin.

“And no, you ain’t crazy. Like I said, I know exactly who’s making you think that you are, though. And you really need to realise it yourself.”

“I’m so confused,” said Lydia, placing her head back on his chest and having to resist the urge to nuzzle the cool bare patch of skin above the collar of his shirt.

“Of course you are,” Betelgeuse said. “That’s exactly how that fucker wants you to feel.”

Lydia didn’t respond, her brain was still too busy chastising her for irritating her business partner.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I…”

“Stop apologisin’, Lydia. It’s fine.”

“I’m just sorry for –”

“Apologise one more time and I’ll show you the same fuckin’ face I showed to that family earlier on, the one that lost me the client.”

Lydia sniffled, still upset, but she couldn’t help but grin at his words. She sat up and looked him straight in the face.

“Was it the one with the tentacles? The one that terrified Rory in the therapist’s office?”

“Nope, much worse than that one.”

“Show me,” Lydia said.

Betelgeuse let out a loud laugh and shook his head,

“Nope.”

“Please?”

“It’ll give you nightmares, babe.”

 “I want to see it,” she said, pouting and tugging on his jacket pleadingly.

Betelgeuse rolled his eyes and then, without warning, something grotesque and otherworldly burst out of his face. Lydia’s mouth hung open in awe, her eyes widening at the sight of the sets of sharp fangs and feelers that had just emerged from his face. A horrific screeching sound filled her ears, accompanied by a terrifying low growl.

And Lydia never flinched. Instead, she sat there, staring at the terrifying sight in amazement.

The sets of sharp teeth and tiny feelers retreated into Betelgeuse’s face, and his features slowly started to reappear.

“Wow,” Lydia breathed, still staring at him in amazement.

Betelgeuse laughed at her expression.

“Aren’t ya scared?”

“No,” she breathed. “Do it again.”

Betelgeuse stared at her and shook his head.

“You’re…you really are somethin’ else,” he breathed, bringing a hand up to her face. “Not many living gals would like the sight of that.”

Lydia looked away shyly.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m…I’m weird, I know.”

“You’re fuckin’ amazin’, that’s what you are.”

Lydia’s head shot up, and their eyes met. Betelgeuse’s eyes widened as he realised what he had said. He cleared his throat.

“I mean, er, it’s amazing that any living person would be impressed by that. Hell, I’d even say that to a guy. I didn’t…I didn’t mean anythin’ inappropriate by it…”

“It’s…it’s fine,” said Lydia. “I know you didn’t mean…”

Her words trailed off as her gaze met her business partner’s.

Lydia suddenly became aware of the fact that she was still extremely close to him. And she was still wearing the low-cut dress, which she had placed a shawl over before she had summoned him.

At some point, that shawl must have slipped down when they were hugging, and she noticed Betelgeuse’s eyes travel down to her exposed skin. He quickly averted his gaze, and Lydia felt the same crushing feeling she had felt on the day of the convention, when he had seemed to dislike looking at her in the dress.

But right now, as they sat there in such close proximity, she had an overwhelming urge to lean into him, to press that exposed bit of skin up against him…

And the realisation hit Lydia hard in the chest. She wanted more than just a hug. She wanted to lean forward and kiss him, wanted to press herself up tight against him. She wanted him to wrap his arms tightly around her again. She wanted to run her fingers over that exposed patch of skin above his tie and shirt collar.

She wanted him.

Lydia quickly looked away, her cheeks burning in embarrassment, hoping to God that her business partner hadn’t been able to sense the sudden feeling of desire that had just rushed straight through her. She pulled her shawl tightly around her, quickly covering her cleavage.

She had already irritated him once today. The last thing he needed was an emotional business partner wanting to act inappropriately towards him.

Lydia groaned inwardly, determined not to look at him until the pleasant but frustrating sensation had passed.

She had already admitted to Astrid that she was attracted to him. But coming to terms with it? Well, that was another matter. They had a complicated history, and such a strong shift in feelings was overwhelming and unexpected for Lydia. That, combined with all the stuff with Robert, was causing her brain to go into overdrive. She felt tired, confused and low.

“Hey,” said Betelgeuse softly, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. “You ok?”

“I’ll be fine,” Lydia said, her voice shaky.

“Lyds, I…I really am sorry that I snapped at ya. You didn’t deserve that.”

Lydia sniffled and smiled.

“Stop apologising, it’s fine,” she said in the same reassuring tone he had earlier on when she had repeatedly said sorry to him.

“Seriously, Lyds, I’m sor –”

“Apologise one more time and I’ll…I’ll…”

Betelgeuse laughed and then scrunched his face up in mock fear as she tried to sound as threatening as he had when she had repeatedly apologised.

“Oh no,” he said, pretending to cower. “What you gonna do? 'cause you can't pull any scary faces like I can.”

Lydia smirked at him.

“I’ll make you try my cooking.”

Betelgeuse suddenly looked excited.

“Really?”

Lydia nodded, smiling.

There was silence for a few moments, then she spoke.

“Stay for dinner,” she said softly. “I’m sure Astrid won’t mind you joining us. Unless…unless you’re busy. I’ll understand if you need to get back to your business.”

“Lyds, I would love to stay for dinner!”

Lydia looked at him, smiling at his excited expression.

“On one condition, though,” he said, holding up a finger.

“Go on.”

“Let me cook. Make it up to ya for…ya know…bein’ an asshole.”

“Can you even cook?”

“Course I can.”

“Ok then,” said Lydia, grimacing slightly. “But no bugs.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t put any cockroaches in it, even though those things are delicious.”

He smacked his lips, and Lydia pulled a face of disgust. Betelgeuse laughed.

“Hope ya like Italian,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

Lydia smiled.

She loved Italian.

***

Astrid never made it to dinner. She had texted Lydia to say that she would be home later than expected.

And so, Betelgeuse and Lydia sat there now, about to tuck into authentic homemade spaghetti bolognese.

She had watched him make all of it.

And doing so had done nothing to curb those strong feelings of attraction that she had been experiencing.

He had worn a chef’s outfit as he prepared it. The black and white apron had been pulled tight over his belly, and Lydia had stared at him as he checked the three watches on his wrist while the pot of sauce bubbled away on the stove.

He had looked utterly ridiculous.

And yet so…appealing.

Lydia wasn’t sure how it was possible.

But Betelgeuse had somehow achieved it.

Lydia hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him.

And when he had served it to her…well, that had really caused her attraction levels to reach the highest they had ever been.

“Viene servita la cena,” he had uttered in a perfect Italian accent, placing the plate of food in front of her. “Godetevi la mia signora.” 

Lydia had stared as he had taken a seat opposite her, watching as he expertly twirled a piece of spaghetti around his fork and popped it into his mouth. For a loud, crude, six-hundred-year-old ghost who was covered in moss and occasionally ate cockroaches, his movements were surprisingly elegant.  

Spaghetti bolognese could be a messy meal to eat, but Betelgeuse’s jacket remained clean. Lydia was so engrossed by it all that she had barely touched her food. She watched as he gently dotted the area around his mouth with a napkin.

An uncharacteristic snort of laughter escaped her, and her hand immediately flew to her mouth.

“What?” asked Betelgeuse, frowning and placing his napkin down next to his plate.

“Sorry,” muttered Lydia. “You just…nevermind.”

She looked at his adorable, confused expression and felt herself melt. Her cheeks started to burn, and she quickly looked away. God, this was getting out of hand.

He’s your business partner, Lydia, get a goddamn grip and stop these thoughts.

She twirled a piece of spaghetti around her fork, popped it into her mouth and closed her eyes in contentment as the rich taste of the tomatoes hit her tongue. It was delicious.

She looked up at Betelgeuse, who was staring at her, clearly awaiting her verdict.

“It’s amazing,” she said, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

Her business partner grinned in response.

***

Lydia didn’t want him to leave. It had been the longest she had ever been in his company, and she wanted him to stay.

His presence felt like a warm hug at that moment, and she knew that if he left, the emptiness would come back.

“I’m too fuckin’ full to even teleport,” he groaned as they sat there on the sofa. He had taken his jacket off, and his shirt was straining against his belly. “Been a long time since I had a meal like that. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a meal like that. Not even when I was alive.”

Lydia sat close to him, clutching her glass of wine, wanting him to talk more about his past.

“Times were hard back then,” he said, chuckling slightly as he looked at her. “And not just because I was tricked into marryin’ a whack job.”

He lay back and closed his eyes, and Lydia had to quickly avert her gaze from his belly, which was threatening to poke out of the gaps between the buttons of his shirt.

Lydia wanted to hear more, but he remained silent. Then, after a few moments, he spoke.

“S’pose I should be gettin’ back,” he said. “George – that’s my new lead worker – has probably got another job for me. Need it after losin’ that client.”

Lydia tried to hide the crushing feeling of disappointment at his words.

“Ghost House will be taking a long break after the finale,” she said. “I was just wondering…what will happen to our partnership? Will…will it continue when the show starts up again?”

Betelgeuse looked at her for a few moments, his expression unreadable. Then, he spoke.

“Do you want it to?”

“Yes,” said Lydia quickly. Too quickly.

“Then it shall continue,” Betelgeuse said in one of his silly accents.

Lydia couldn’t help but laugh. But that laughter quickly died as she thought of those months in between when they wouldn’t be seeing each other.

“It doesn’t return until Halloween,” she said. “More than six months away...”

“Ok…” said Betelgeuse, sensing that she wanted to say something else.

“I won’t…we won’t…it’s a long time. I won’t see you…”

Her business partner’s mouth curved up into a grin.

“Do you wanna see me?”

Lydia stared at him, hoping that her expression didn’t give away the strong feeling of longing that she was experiencing at that moment.

“Yes,” she said softly. “But…but will you want something in return?”

Betelgeuse frowned at her.

“Why the hell would I need somethin’ in return? Babe, we’re already in the middle of a deal.”

“I just….” Lydia clutched her wine glass tightly. “Sometimes I get a bit lonely, especially now that Astrid isn’t at home as much. But I…I wondered if we could still hang out together….”

God, she sounded like a teenager. Lydia turned her face away, hoping that she wasn’t blushing.

“I’d still like to have some company, even though we won’t be working on any assignments together for months. But I wasn’t sure if you’d want something in return for me wanting you to…spend time with me. You usually want something in return.”

She looked at him then, and his expression was surprisingly soft. He reached out and gently took the wine glass out of her hands and set it on the table in front of the sofa. Then, he reached out and took her hands in his much larger ones. So far, they had worked out that hand-holding was fine if it was a simple gesture of comfort and nothing inappropriate.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Betelgeuse asked, staring softly at her. “You think I want somethin’ in return for you wantin’ to spend time with me?”

“Well, yes,” said Lydia. “You might be too busy. You might not want to unless there’s something in it for you.”

“Oh, Lyds,” he shook his head, his tone laced with that same affection from earlier. “I don’t want anythin’ from you. Just bein’ with you is enough for me.”

The words came out soft, and Lydia stared at him, wanting so badly to close the gap between them…

Betelgeuse cleared his throat and let go of her hands.

“We’re friends,” he said. “Nothin’ will change that. I’m always gonna haunt ya.”

Lydia laughed in response, happy that he had called her his friend. Happy to just be near him.

“You’ll never get rid of me,” he said, smirking at her.

The Lydia from months ago would have been traumatised at that statement. But the Lydia that sat there now was almost bursting with happiness.

“Ya know what? Screw work, let’s watch a movie.”

Lydia watched as he jabbed the buttons on the remote, wanting so desperately to reach out and touch him. Not in the way that the contract permitted her to touch him, the way that her own rules permitted her to touch him, but in the way that she wanted to touch him. And her heart ached at the fact that she couldn’t.

“I’m nervous about the finale,” she said as she watched him select Fright Night.

“We’ve made it this far, Lyds, we’re almost at the finish line. Then we can relax for a few months.”

And as her phone pinged and she opened Robert’s email containing details of Ghost House’s final assignment of the season, she hoped that she and Betelgeuse could make it through the final hurdle and safely reach that finish line.

Chapter Text

Whether it was guilt over snapping at Lydia or because they had just spent the largest amount of time ever together, Betelgeuse wasn’t sure. But he sat there right now, typing away on his phone, writing endless comments full of praise for Lydia in her appreciation thread.

The number of posts he had written over the weeks since he had joined the forum had now reached well over two hundred. And over time, those comments had become less about defending Lydia and more about expressing how he felt about her.

His initial routine of safely expressing his love in text messages addressed to no one had slowly died out, and since Lydia’s appreciation thread had started to become full of hateful posts, his love for her was starting to show in his posts.

He had been posting on the forum for almost two months now, and Lydia still had no idea it was him. He was safe, it was fine. And Betelgeuse had to admit that it was a relief being able to share his devotion to her. To the other people posting on the forum, he probably seemed extremely creepy and stalkerish, like an obsessed fan, but Betelgeuse didn’t give a fuck. Being creepy was what he did best.

His dead heart ached as he thought back to Lydia’s reaction to his biting response to her asking him if she was losing her mind. God, he had been such an asshole to her. It was the last thing she needed right now.

She was broken, vulnerable, and he had made her feel worse.

They had become a little more comfortable with being affectionate with each other, and Betelgeuse loved it. As long as that affection didn’t enter dangerous territory and cause the contract to break, then it was all fine.

It didn’t make being near Lydia any less difficult, though. Betelgeuse groaned as he thought of her soft-looking skin in that low-cut dress. He had so desperately wanted to reach out and touch her, but he knew he couldn’t. There was no way that Lydia would ever want him to touch her like that.

He smirked as he typed out a response to a particularly nasty post on the forum. A noise made him look up, and he saw George hovering over him, a note clutched in his hand.

“Thanks, George,” said Betelgeuse, taking the note from the skeleton. George gave a salute (an action that he had learned from his boss) and shuffled away.

Betelgeuse sighed as his eyes raked over the message from Wolf.

“George, hold the fort, I gotta go see Jackson,” he said, standing up and tossing the note in the bin next to his desk.

Then he teleported to the Afterlife’s Waiting Room, hoping that this meeting would be worth his time and not just Wolf trying to check up on him again.

***

The meeting was, in fact, turning out to be very much worth his time. Betelgeuse’s eyes widened as he tried to digest Wolf’s words.

“…kidnapped it, or so the ghost says.”

“Kidnapped it? What the fuck would he wanna kidnap a ghost for?”

“That’s what we’re trying to work out.”

Betelgeuse was silent. According to Wolf, a ghost had drawn a door in Ghost House’s studio in an emergency and told the Afterlife Crime Unit that Robert Forrester had teleported with one of the other ghosts to an unknown location.

“Since living people cannot teleport, we have reason to believe that this Forrester is indeed being possessed by this Rory guy. We’re not sure what he did with the ghost he kidnapped, but the other ghost who came down here and reported it believes that the poor fella suffered a permanent death because he wasn’t with Forrester when he returned to the studio later on.”

Betelgeuse drummed his fingers on Wolf’s desk. If Rory had kidnapped a ghost, then what the hell would he need it for? Forrester was very likely close to death after being possessed for so long, and it wouldn’t be long before Rory needed another living person’s body to take over. A dead person couldn’t fulfil those needs, so it didn’t make sense for him to kidnap and kill another ghost permanently.

Unless…

“It must have somethin’ to do with Lydia’s final assignment,” Betelgeuse said, breaking the silence. “It’s gotta be that.”

“Has Miss Deetz received any information about where this assignment will take place?”

“I can get all the info from her.”

“You do that. We need all the information we can get if we wanna find out what this guy is up to.”

“So you’ll go up there and investigate?”

“Once we get the information we need, then I’ll head up there with my Ghost Squad.”

“Good man, Wolf. About time, too.”

Wolf sighed and sat back in his chair.

“I must warn you, Mr. Geuse, that I cannot guarantee that we’ll be able to catch this guy. He’s powerful. It’ll be easy for him to avoid us.”

“Then make a goddamn plan,” said Betelgeuse, waving his arms around in exasperation. “Go up there on the day of the assignment. He’s sure to be there then.”

“We can’t take any risks, especially if the assignment is being filmed.”

“Why? The fuckin’ audience can’t see you, Wolf. Lydia will be the only one on location who can see ghosts.”

“It’s still risky.”

“Fuck’s sake,” said Betelgeuse, sighing and running a hand over his face.

Wolf took a sip of coffee before setting his cup down and studying the irritable ghost in front of him.

“Everything ok, Geuse? You seem a little…worked up.”

Betelgeuse closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Sorry, had a shitty day yesterday. Lost a client. Snapped at Lydia, too. I was a total jerk to her.”

Wolf chuckled in response.

“We’ve all been there,” he said reassuringly. “I’ve snapped at people when I’ve had a bad day. So what went wrong?”

“Got summoned by an uptight ghost who wanted me to get rid of the family in his house. So I did, then the fucker complained because I’d terrified the kids. Said he regretted usin’ my services and wouldn’t be callin’ me again.”

“His loss,” said Wolf, shrugging.

“Damn right it is.”

“And…how’s the partnership going?”

“Great,” said Betelgeuse, forcing a grin. “Just great.”

Wolf threw him a look that told him he didn’t believe him.

Betelgeuse let a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his messy hair.

“It’s so damn hard,” he mumbled. “She keeps wearin’ this dress with a low neckline and…and because of the rules of the contract I can’t touch her the way I wanna touch her.”

Wolf gave a small nod, indicating that he understood Betelgeuse’s frustration.

“Well,” he said, shuffling some papers on his desk. “No good will ever come from fraternising with a fleshbag, Geuse, so the rules of that contract are probably for the best.”

“She wouldn’t wanna touch me like that anyway.”

“Again, that’s probably for the best,” said Wolf, eyeing him carefully. “She’s alive and you're dead.”

“Gee, thanks for tellin’ me that, Wolf, I had no idea,” Betelgeuse replied, rolling his eyes.

“I’m just saying that it’s best for you two to remain business partners…friends…whatever the hell it is you are at the moment. Relationships between the dead and the living? It’s unheard of. Forbidden territory. A taboo subject. Nothing good will come out of it. Take my advice. Be friends with Miss Deetz, but don’t pursue anything else. It’ll cause a whole lotta problems.”

But Betelgeuse knew that he would never take such advice when it came to his feelings for Lydia.

He would always love her, no matter how forbidden it was. No matter how creepy someone might find it. Lydia could add a thousand more clauses to that contract, stopping him from touching her the way he wanted to, but it would never change his feelings for her.

And as he sat there opposite Wolf, he could only hope that the head of the Afterlife Crime Unit and the Ghost Squad would act quickly and capture Rory, so that Lydia could be free of him for good.

***

Lydia’s heart hammered as she accessed Ghost House’s Instagram page. After an emotionally draining meeting with Robert, her apology video had finally been filmed and posted. Robert had provided her with a script he had written, which Lydia had thought was odd, as he had initially told her that he wanted the apology to be genuine.

“They won’t take it seriously if it sounds scripted, Robert,” she had said, as they had sat opposite each other in the studio's meeting room.

“Believe me, Lydia, this is exactly what they need to hear,” the producer had replied, pushing the piece of paper containing the words that he wanted Lydia to say across the table to her. “We couldn’t film it yesterday because it just wasn’t good enough. But with my script, it’ll sound perfect.”

And as Lydia sat there now, playing the video, it sounded far from perfect. She listened to her voice, grimacing. It sounded fake, robotic. And judging from the comments that had been posted, the fans thought so too.

She dialled Robert’s number.

“They hate it!” she said as soon as he answered. “It’s just made things worse! I should have used my own words.”

“Sweetheart, it has nothing to do with the script. They hate it because of the way you’re speaking the words. I hope you’re not trying to blame me for these hateful posts, Lydia.”

“O-of course not! I just think that if we’d not used a scr –”

“It isn’t the script,” snarled Robert, his voice suddenly sounding dangerous. “It’s you. When are you gonna learn, Lydia, that all of this is because of you?”

“I…”

“Look, just get therapy like I advised you to, and maybe we can film another one when you’ve got that anxiety sorted. Like I told you yesterday, I’ll sort it. I’ll get you some sessions. Why don’t you and I see Dr. Glickman again?”

Lydia frowned. Dr. Glickman was the couples therapist that she and Rory had seen.

How would Robert know about that? Maybe, Lydia thought, Rory had told him about it. But the way Robert had just spoken had made it sound like it had been he who had attended the sessions with Lydia instead of Rory…

“Dr. Glickman was strictly a couple’s therapist, Robert. I…I’m not sure what you mean about us seeing him again? I only ever saw him with Rory when we were together.”

There were a few moments of silence, and then Robert quickly cleared his throat.

“I…of course, that’s what I meant!” he said quickly, his voice slightly shaky. “I meant that we could go together. I’m sure Rory would want you to use Dr. Glickman again. But if he’s, er, if he’s strictly for couples, then I’ll find you someone else. I’ll sort this.”

There was a moment of silence again, then Lydia heard him clear his throat. When he spoke again, the shakiness in his voice was gone, replaced with a confident, firm tone.

“But in the meantime, Lydia, get a grip. And stop trying to blame others for your own mistakes.”

He hung up before Lydia could respond. She sighed heavily and accessed Ghost House’s forum. Quite a few fans had posted a response about the apology video on there, and her appreciation thread was now a complete disaster.

The only person who was consistently posting nice comments was RedSupergiant. Lydia hadn’t paid a lot of attention to the person’s posts lately, as she had become so used to them repeatedly saying the same nice things. But the comments that had been posted today caused her to stop scrolling and pay attention to what her biggest fan on the forum was saying.

Usually, RedSupergiant’s comments would consist of simple compliments, praising her personality and her appearance. But lately, their posts had started to become rather intense.

It was clear that, whoever this person was, they had a very strong attraction to Lydia.

And today, they had posted something a little bit different to their usual comments. Lydia's eyes raked over one of the posts.

Really wish I could say all these things to Lydia’s face. I got real close to her at the convention, but I couldn’t say anything too complimentary to her.

Someone had responded asking him why, and Lydia’s heart started to race as her eyes shifted to his response.

Because I’m not allowed to. And that’s all I’m saying.

Lydia frowned. She thought back to the day of the convention, to all the fans that she had met.

“Not allowed to…” she said, muttering the response quietly to herself.

Why would RedSupergiant not be allowed to say nice comments to her face? They couldn’t be a child because this person seemed older than that. But why else would they not be allowed?

Lydia drummed her fingers on the kitchen table. And then, suddenly, she thought back to that day when she had mentioned RedSupergiant to Astrid. Her daughter had seen the name and had shaken her head, sniggering.

Lydia remembered asking her what she was grinning about, and she frowned again as she thought of Astrid’s response.

“Trust me. You don’t want to know.”

Lydia had been confused at that response at the time, but she had quickly forgotten about it. Now, as she sat there, her eyes widened. Astrid must have worked out who it was. But how on earth did she know?

Lydia's brain never seemed to work logically lately, most likely because of it being over-anxious, but now, as she sat there, she suddenly laughed and shook her head, unable to believe that she hadn’t already thought of doing what she was about to do.

Jesus, Lydia, all this time, and you could have just looked the name up!

Lydia rolled her eyes at her brain chastising her and typed the name RedSupergiant into Google.

The first thing she noticed was that Google had corrected her spelling. RedSupergiant was two separate words.

The second thing she discovered was that red supergiant was the name of a star. She clicked on the Wikipedia entry that had appeared at the top of the search results.

Ok, so whoever the person was, they were a fan of astronomy. Lydia kept reading.

And her eyes fell upon the last sentence of the first section of the Wikipedia entry.

Betelgeuse and Antares A are the brightest and best known red supergiants (RSGs).

Lydia’s gaze seemed to fix on the word “Betelgeuse” for an eternity.

Heart hammering, she clicked on the name.

She stared at the word on the screen, thinking back to the name that she had seen so many times on all the leaflets that her business partner had left lying around, along with the pop-ups on her phone and the name that was plastered across the sign that pointed to his gravestone in Adam’s model.

Betelgeuse.

Lydia had never really thought about the spelling of his name before, instead always focusing on its phonetic pronunciation. But now, as she stared at the written word on her phone’s screen, all the pieces started to click together.

The use of the name RedSupergiant.

The posting of endless compliments.

The fact that Betelgeuse was the only person out of all the fans on that forum who would have known that Robert forced her to wear the low-cut dress, and that’s why RedSupergiant had been so angry when people had posted lecherous comments.

The fact that Astrid, who had gone through a phase of having a huge interest in astronomy when she was younger, had immediately worked out who it was.

The fact that RedSupergiant had posted that he was near Lydia at the convention but couldn’t say nice things to her face, which, Lydia now realised, was because of the deal.

Lydia sat there, her mouth hanging open in shock, a comical look of realisation plastered on her face.

Slowly, she scrolled through the forum and clicked on RedSupergiant’s name. He had started posting on the forum weeks ago, not long after they had made the deal. She browsed through his posting history.

There were hundreds of comments.

Lydia looked through them, her heart still hammering hard against her chest. She felt her cheeks flush as her eyes fell upon the many complimentary words that RedSupergiant had used in his comments, such as “beautiful,” “amazing” and “gorgeous.”

Perhaps, Lydia thought, it wasn’t Betelgeuse at all and just simply someone who had an interest in astronomy, as she had originally thought when she had first looked the name up just moments ago.

But she knew she was kidding herself.

It had to be him.

There were certain things that he had written in his posts that gave it away. And he wrote that he had been close to her at the convention and couldn’t say the compliments to her face. Betelgeuse had sat at her table that day for hours while she signed autographs, and now that she thought about it, really thought about it, he had often had an expression on his face that made it look as though he was trying hard not to say something.

Her mind drifted back to their evening together yesterday and how he had told her that she was amazing after her unusual reaction to the fangs and feelers bursting out of his face. He had immediately caught himself and told her that he would have said such words to anyone who had reacted like that.

But Lydia had noticed the panic in his voice.

She glanced at the comments again, reading them carefully. It suddenly seemed so obvious. The way the posts had been written sounded exactly how Betelgeuse would speak. Lydia couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before.

She thought back to the details of their contract. After they had shaken hands to seal the deal all those weeks ago, Lydia had asked him if she could take photos of it on her phone, so that she could regularly check that he was sticking to it. He had been disgruntled at the time and had muttered something about her always being the one who broke their deals, but he had handed the contract over for her to photograph.

Lydia hadn’t looked at those photos at all during the time they had worked together, because Betelgeuse had seemingly done so well with sticking to the deal. But after making this shocking discovery, Lydia had an overwhelming need to look over the rules again. She quickly accessed her phone’s photo gallery and found the photo she had taken. Her heart continued to race as she read the words.

I, Betelgeuse, agree to enter a work partnership with Lydia Deetz. I agree to keep the relationship professional, and no marriage attempts will be made to the aforementioned Miss Deetz. There will be no declarations of love, and no inappropriate behaviour. I shall accompany her to all her work assignments, stand by her through any dangerous occurrences and help her to achieve her goal of gaining better ratings for Ghost House. I understand that breaking this deal will cause this contract to become null and void and the partnership will be terminated.

Lydia’s quickly swiped across and accessed the photo that she had taken of the second part of the deal, the section that applied to her.

I, Lydia Deetz, agree to enter a work partnership with Betelgeuse. I agree to keep the relationship professional, with no romantic advances being made to the aforementioned Betelgeuse, despite the aforementioned Betelgeuse feeling a little tingle at the thought of such advances being made. There will be no declarations of love, and no inappropriate behaviour. I shall assist him with rebuilding his bio-exorcist business and help him to gain new clients. I shall stand by him through any difficulties, put any past disagreements behind us and help him achieve his goal of creating a successful bio-exorcist business. I understand that breaking this deal will cause this contract to become null and void and the partnership will be terminated.

She had kept up her end of the deal, but right there, in RedSupergiant’s posting history, were endless comments that could be deemed inappropriate. So why hadn’t the contract broken? Why had they, for weeks, been able to continue their professional partnership?

Lydia heard Astrid enter the kitchen but didn’t look up from her phone. She was too busy trying to work out why Betelgeuse had managed to spend weeks practically declaring his love for her on a public forum without the contract breaking.

How had he even managed to get access to a phone?

Astrid must have noticed her confused expression because she immediately asked what was wrong. Lydia could only hum in response, still distracted by the posts.

“Earth to Mom,” the teenager said, as she took a seat opposite Lydia and waved a hand in front of her mother’s face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lydia asked, looking up at her daughter and frowning.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me, at the time, that RedSupergiant was him?”

Astrid’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I have no idea what you’re…”

Her voice trailed off, and the confused expression slowly melted away as she realised what Lydia was talking about.

“Oh, you’re talking about that,” she said, and then shrugged. “Didn’t think you’d want to know. You wanted the partnership to be professional, didn’t you?”

“Yes! That’s what’s confusing me. How the hell has he managed to write all these comments without breaking the contract?”

Astrid took the phone off her, her eyes raking over the endless comments that Betelgeuse had posted on the forum.

“Woah…”

“Exactly!” said Lydia. “Look at the things he’s been saying.”

Astrid’s expression suddenly softened.

“He…god…he really is crazy about you.”

Lydia was silent.

To an outsider, it really did look like Betelgeuse was in love with her. The compliments were full of praise and endless loving words. He had written all the words that she had been so desperate for him to say to her face of late. But the Lydia from weeks ago wouldn’t have wanted him to call her “beautiful” or “gorgeous.”

The Lydia who had made the deal had been irritated by him and wanted their partnership to be strictly business.

And he hadn’t listened. He had started posting words that could be seen as romantic almost as soon as the deal had started. Lydia still couldn’t understand why the contract was still in place.

Was it because his feelings were not genuine, and he simply wanted to write the comments for the sole purpose of causing mischief on the forum? Lydia thought back to that day when he had snatched her phone from her and had tried to set up an account on the forum. She had immediately told him not to, worried about him causing trouble on there.

Betelgeuse was well known for his mischievous streak. It was one of the reasons why Lydia had been so reluctant to marry him and give him access to the living world.

She had previously had this fear, before she had known about his tragic past and gained an understanding of why he wanted to get out of the afterlife, that setting Betelgeuse free would be like opening a cage for a crazed animal at a zoo and unleashing it on the world, giving it the freedom to cause absolute chaos.

Astrid’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“He obviously found a loophole,” she said, nodding at Lydia’s phone and shrugging. “He was able to write those comments on a public forum without breaking the rules of the contract because you didn't know it was him and he wasn’t saying them to your face.”

Lydia stared at her daughter in disbelief. She was far too wise beyond her years.

“Oh my god, you’re right,” Lydia said slowly, her eyes still fixed on Astrid. “You…you’re so right.”

Betelgeuse had a long history of deals. It made complete sense that he would find a way to break one of the rules without breaking the contract itself. He had a lot of knowledge about how deals worked. He may be mischievous and silly at points, but if there was one thing Betelgeuse definitely was, it was smart.

And Lydia felt a sudden rush of anger. She had stuck to the deal all along. Hadn’t found a way to break it, hadn’t found any loopholes. She had been able to safely admit to Astrid that she was attracted to him, but that was a far cry from the endless comments he had been posting since the deal had first started.

Lydia had followed the rules.

And over time, it had become harder to stick to them.

Because when she and Betelgeuse had first made that deal, weeks ago, she would never have imagined that she would end up developing feelings for him.

The past few days had been so damn hard. She had had to resist touching him, kissing him, because she didn’t want to break their contract. And he was writing compliments about her at his leisure, able to release his feelings without the worry of breaking the deal.

Lydia suddenly felt bitter

Despite having Astrid to talk to, there was no way that Lydia could say all the inappropriate thoughts she had had about her business partner out loud to her teenage daughter. Astrid would likely roll her eyes. Or want to vomit in disgust. Most likely the latter.

But Betelgeuse had an outlet, somewhere he could release all his feelings. And Lydia still couldn’t be sure if those feelings were totally genuine, but he had managed to get away with expressing them to all those people on the forum.

Lydia clenched her fists in anger. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was angry about. Whether it was Betelgeuse having that outlet to express everything that she couldn’t, or because she wasn’t sure if he was being genuine, or just the simple fact that she had not planned on falling for him and now things were very complicated, she didn’t know.

But right now, her emotions were getting the better of her, and the most prominent one was pure anger.

“Mom?”

“I might kill him,” Lydia snarled, clasping her phone hard in her hand. “I might actually end up giving the asshole a second permanent death.”

“Go easy on him,” said Astrid, holding her hands up. “I think it’s actually kind of sweet.”

Lydia glared at her in disbelief.

“Sweet? Sweet? Astrid, he found a loophole! I’ve been struggling for days, trying not to act on my feelings for him. Trying not to…to jump all over him and kiss him and – don’t you dare make that face at me!”

Astrid’s grimace at Lydia describing what she wanted to do to her six-hundred-year-old dead business partner immediately disappeared.

“And there he is, posting these…these…endless nice comments about me on a public forum whenever he wants! I’m gonna kill him.”

Lydia pushed herself up and started to walk away, still clutching her phone tightly.

“I am so glad I own a pair of headphones,” muttered Astrid, as she watched her mother exit the kitchen.

***

Lydia almost growled his name, trying hard and failing to control her anger. He took a few moments to appear. And when he did, he had a huge smile on his face.

That smile immediately died when he laid eyes on Lydia.

“Lyds? What’s wrong? Is it the mess I left in the kitchen when I cooked yesterday? ‘cause I can easily clean it up.”

He grinned and snapped his fingers.

Lydia continued to glare at him. And slowly, she held her phone out to him.

“What? What is it?”

“Look at it,” she demanded.

And he did.

And slowly, his face morphed into one of pure panic.

“Oh…shit.”

“Start talking.”

“Babe…”

“Weeks! Weeks you’ve been posting these comments! How did it feel, knowing that you’d found a loophole? Knowing that you had found a way to overstep the boundaries that I set for the deal?”

“I…”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you? You just can’t stop the creepy behaviour. For years, years, you’ve been stalking me! Interfering with my job, giving me visions of yourself, spying on me through your…your…psychic connection! And then there’s the whole couples therapy incident…”

She stepped closer to him and jabbed a finger at his chest. Betelgeuse looked down at her, his face scrunched up in panic.

“….when you put a goddamn baby in my stomach, made me give birth to it and then serenaded me! And then there was the whole incident at the church, when you made me dance with you and lip-synch to that goddamn song!”

Lydia couldn’t stop.

Weeks of frustration were pouring out of her as she tried to make sense of everything. As she tried to understand exactly how Betelgeuse’s highly irritating and quite frankly stalkerish behaviour had resulted in her developing a strange attraction to him. An attraction that was starting to develop into something even deeper…

Lydia wasn’t sure if she was angrier at him for finding the loophole or herself for developing that attraction. But that anger was coming out of her in waves, and somewhere, somewhere very deep within her amongst all of it, there was a feeling of pure need. A need to hear him say all the things he had said to those people on the forum to her face.

But she knew he couldn’t.

And that angered her even more.

She continued to jab her finger at him as he stared down at her, looking terrified.

“And then there were the nightmares! That nightmare with the grotesque baby and the dream of you lying next to me before I woke up. And that laugh…that…goddamn laugh afterwards! Because that’s all this is to you, isn’t it? A joke. Just another reason for you to be your usual, annoying, irritating, mischievous trickster self!”

“I…”

“And for weeks, you continued to intervene, not letting me carry out those first few assignments by myself, determined to take away the opportunity for me to prove myself!”

“But you did prove your –”

“And now I find out that you’ve secretly been going against my wishes, sneakily finding a way around the rules of the contract to satisfy your own selfish needs. Because that’s what it’s always about for you, isn’t it? Your needs!”

And Lydia started to enter that dangerous territory, the area that she had so desperately tried to keep out of for the past few days.

“Do you know how hard it’s been?” she said, tears pricking her eyes now. “How hard it was for me not to act on the five senses thing the other day?”

“What do you…”

“See, hear, smell, touch and...."

“What the hell are you –”

“It’s a technique to help with anxiety attacks!” Lydia said, raising her voice now. “And I didn’t act on one of them the other day, after my attack!”

“Which one –”

“Taste!” shouted Lydia, now stomping her foot in frustration. “And here you are, making all these…these nice comments about me on that forum, releasing your feelings…and I have to hold my feelings in!”

She choked back a sob, still waving a shaking finger at him.

Betelgeuse was staring at her, his blue eyes wide.

“What?” snapped Lydia, studying his expression.

“Taste, huh? You wanna eat me or somethin’?”

His mouth curved up into that ridiculous lop-sided grin, which did nothing to curb Lydia’s anger.

“You…”

Her words trailed off, and all she could do was growl at him in frustration.

The atmosphere was like a pressure cooker.

And something was about to explode.

And that something was Lydia.

“I hate you!” she snarled, grabbing fistfuls of his black and white striped jacket in pure frustration. “I hate you for doing this to me! It wasn’t supposed to be like this! I wasn’t supposed to fall for…I…”

Her words trailed off as she flung herself at him and finally acted on that final sense.

Despite Lydia’s small frame, Betelgeuse was knocked backwards as her lips fiercely met his own.

Lydia felt his body freeze against hers, but it didn’t take long for him to respond. His arms quickly snaked around her waist, and Lydia took this as an invitation to finally explore what she had so desperately wanted to that day after her anxiety attack, when she had wanted to kiss him.

He tasted like the earth after a rainstorm, with the faintest hint of liquor and cigarette smoke, and Lydia couldn’t get enough of it. The coolness of his mouth felt divine against her tongue. It was delicious. He was delicious.

Her hands tugged at his tie, quickly removing it before fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, desperately trying to access his cold skin. She threw her head back and let out a strangled moan as he ripped his cool lips away from hers to seek out the sensitive area of warm flesh on her neck.

And as he gently nipped it, Lydia knew that the damage was done, but she was too lost in his touch to stop.

As he teleported them to Lydia’s bedroom and quickly removed his jacket, the contract slipped out of his pocket and immediately burst into flames.

But neither of them seemed to notice, too lost in the moment, too lost in each other to care about the fact that Lydia’s kiss had broken the deal and that their business partnership had now come to an end.

Chapter Text

It felt like she was walking on air. Lydia closed her eyes, basking in the afterglow, and hummed in contentment as Betelgeuse’s cool fingers danced across her warm skin.

It felt like her brain had melted at some point, and she was struggling to form a coherent sentence. She tried to speak, but no words would come out. Betelgeuse had rendered her speechless.

Lydia hadn’t had many sexual relationships in her adult life. It had always been pleasant with Richard, but never amazing. Their incompatibility wasn’t just due to a difference in their interests. It had stretched to the bedroom, too, and Lydia had been ashamed to admit that her strange and unusual personality came with dark fantasies that Richard would never have agreed to fulfil.

Sex with Rory had been a chore. The desire had been there to start with, but it had been weak and quickly fizzled out. He had been a selfish lover, never caring about what Lydia wanted and overstepping her boundaries. He would always try to be overly affectionate in public, which Lydia had hated.

And so, it was safe to say that Lydia had just experienced the best sexual encounter she had ever had. With a six-hundred-year-old ghost of all people. A ghost who had haunted her for more than thirty-five years. A ghost whom she had initially found irritating, annoying and stalkerish.

That ghost had made her feel things she had never ever felt before.

And his grin, that damn lop-sided grin, had been the one thing that had pushed her over the edge and caused her to finally launch herself at him.

And the desire that she had felt had been off the scale.

She lay there, breathing hard, staring at the ceiling. There was no arguing with her brain this time. The evidence was right there, all over her body. The beads of sweat, the heavy breathing, the post-orgasmic glow, which she had rarely felt before. There was no denying how good Betelgeuse’s cool touch had felt against the most sensitive parts of her body.

How good he had felt inside her.

All the words that he hadn’t been able to say when they had been bound by the contract had come tumbling out during their lovemaking. Every compliment, every declaration of love that he had had to hold back had escaped his mouth in whispered words against her neck as his body moved against hers. And hearing him say all those words had taken Lydia’s desire to an even higher level, if that was possible. Her body had given in, finally succumbing to the intense attraction that she had tried so hard not to act upon for days.

But all good things eventually come to an end, and as that wonderful afterglow faded, the realisation of what she had done hit Lydia like a ton of bricks.

Slowly, she turned her head and glanced at Betelgeuse’s jacket on the floor, which was covered in ash.

The remains of the now broken contract.

Lydia swallowed hard, suddenly overcome with emotion.

They were no longer business partners. No longer bound by the rules of a contract.

What, Lydia wondered, would happen now? Without the contract, Betelgeuse could no longer protect her. Her safety blanket was gone, ripped away from her because of her own impulsive actions. She closed her eyes, biting her lip hard as she felt Betelgeuse lean over and nuzzle her neck.

“You ok?” he asked, his gravelly voice causing a highly pleasant shiver to run through her.

“The contract…” she said weakly, still staring at the remains on the floor.

“Fuck the contract,” Betelgeuse growled, gently nipping her skin. His hands moved downwards, gently stroking the skin above the swell of her breasts.

“It’s…it’s broken.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” the ghost said against her neck. “Not if it means I get to touch you like this.”

Lydia gently pushed him off her and sat up.

“I…”

Betelgeuse sighed as his mouth moved away from the sensitive flesh on her neck.

“You’re regrettin’ it, aren’t you?”

Lydia looked him in the eyes. She reached out and gently traced his unique features with her fingers. Then, she answered.

“I…I don’t know. It’s…I’m…”

“You’re overwhelmed with it all,” he said softly, stroking her face. “It’s ok, Lyds, I get it. Didn’t realise you felt that way about me. So this…us…was kind of a shock for me too, y’know.”

He chuckled softly.

“Not that I’m complainin’.

He leaned down and rubbed his nose against her neck. Lydia closed her eyes. She didn’t think she would ever grow tired of his touch.

“We won’t be able to work together anymore,” she said in a shaky voice. “I still have one assignment left to do before Ghost House takes a break…”

Without warning, Betelgeuse pulled her into his arms. Lydia closed her eyes, enjoying the affection, relishing the feel of his cool skin.

She never would have guessed, when she first met Betelgeuse, that he would ever be capable of love or affection. But she had quickly discovered, upon flinging herself at him and kissing him, that he was surprisingly romantic and a very considerate lover. She never would have guessed that she would end up in bed with him either, but here she was, lying there now, in his arms. Lydia sighed as she felt the straps of the three watches on his wrist pressing into her skin. She gently ran a hand over his, her fingers dancing over the heavy ring on his index finger.

“Forget about the assignment,” he murmured into her hair, “Quit the show. You don’t need to do it anymore, Lyds. Just focus on yourself.”

“But I’m so close,” Lydia said, burying her face in his chest. “We almost reached that finish line.”

Betelgeuse let out a laugh.

“Who cares?” he said, raking his hand through her dark locks. “You ain’t gotta prove yourself to anyone anymore. All those nasty fuckers on that forum will never appreciate you. Like I told you before, start focusin’ on the people who do. Such as me.”

Lydia stared up at him, and he grinned down at her.

The close proximity felt so good, but as Lydia stared up into his blue eyes, she couldn’t help but think that it was all so surreal. The last time he had been in her bed had been during a dream, right after that terrifying dream of Astrid giving birth to that grotesque baby. This time, it wasn’t a dream. He was actually there with her, holding her, and she had just had sex with him. Lydia's eyes widened then as the realisation of it all hit her hard. His touch felt good, everything about the experience had been good. Far more than good.

But the reality of it all was very different.

She had feelings for Betelgeuse, there was no denying that anymore, but those feelings didn’t take away their complicated history. She could just brush everything aside and allow herself to be happy, but Lydia’s anxiety wasn’t going to allow her to do that. The fact was, she had stupidly broken the contract and destroyed their business partnership, and that meant that she was unable to be protected during what was possibly going to be the most dangerous assignment that she had ever taken on.

She couldn’t quit. Not now, when she was so close. Not after everything that she had been through.

“I have to do this,” she said quietly, moving out of his embrace and wrapping her arms around herself. “I have to complete that final assignment of the season.”

“But Lyds –”

“I need to use the bathroom…I’ll…I’ll call you later.”

She turned away from him as she spoke the words, but she could feel his disappointment burning into her back.

Suddenly feeling embarrassed about her nakedness, she fumbled around for her clothes and held them against her as she rushed to the bathroom. As she entered the room, she heard the distant, familiar pop of Betelgeuse teleporting. She fumbled for the light switch, and when the light eventually came on, Lydia gasped.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her mouth hanging open. Her neck was covered in bite marks where Betelgeuse had nipped at her skin.

It looked like she had been ravaged by a wild animal.

She ran a hand over the marks, and memories of Betelgeuse biting her while murmuring compliments against her neck came flooding back. Lydia closed her eyes and groaned inwardly. She was going to need a lot of makeup to hide those.

She heard a noise from outside the door, and her eyes widened as she suddenly remembered that poor Astrid had been at home the entire time.

And as she splashed some cold water on the red marks to soothe them, she hoped to God that her daughter had used her headphones.

***

Lydia walked slowly into the kitchen, deliberately avoiding Astrid’s gaze. The teenager was sitting at the kitchen island, clutching a mug of what must have been coffee; the aroma had hit Lydia the moment she had entered the kitchen.

“Just brewed some,” Astrid said, nodding at the coffee maker.

“Isn’t it a little late for caffeine?” Lydia asked, glancing out the kitchen window and nodding at the sunset.

“Well, I figured I might not be able to get any sleep anyway, so I might as well have a cup.”

Lydia’s gaze quickly shifted to Astrid, who was wearing an expression that looked like a mixture of amusement and disgust.

“I…”

“Don’t apologise. I knew it was gonna happen.”

“You did?”

Astrid rolled her eyes.

“It was pretty obvious from the way you talked about trying hard not to jump all over him and kiss him, Mom.”

Lydia sighed.

“I was so angry at him and then…suddenly I…I…well, I’ll spare you the details.”

“I appreciate that.”

“You didn’t hear…”

“Nope, I had my headphones in. Like I said, I knew it was gonna happen.”

Lydia was silent. Astrid never failed to amaze her. She glanced at her daughter and smiled weakly, feeling a sudden rush of love for her.

“The contract has broken,” Lydia said quietly after a few moments.

“Yeah, I figured that out. So what now?”

Lydia sighed and poured herself some coffee. She could easily sleep after the session she had just had with Betelgeuse, but she didn’t want to. She had much to think about, and caffeine was needed for that.

“I’ll have to do the assignment alone. I can’t expect him to protect me anymore. He’ll need to focus on his bio-exorcist business now anyway, especially now that I won’t be able to help him with it anymore.”

“You don’t need a contract to help each other,” Astrid said.

Lydia shook her head in disagreement.

“He’s always been about deals. I…it wouldn’t be right of me to expect him to continue helping me when I’m the one who has broken our contract…again.”

Lydia’s own words hit her hard then, and she sighed as she joined Astrid at the table. Three times she had made a deal with him, and she had broken all of them. Lydia felt sad as she glanced down at her coffee. Twice, his opportunity to get out of the afterlife had been taken away from him, and now she had ruined their third deal and put his business at risk.

He hadn’t seemed bothered by the deal coming to an end, but Lydia was. She sat there now, the feeling of guilt almost crushing her.

“Why don’t you just quit?” said Astrid, shrugging. “It’s not like you need to prove yourself anymore.”

“I can’t, Astrid. Your future –”

Her daughter’s laugh interrupted her, and Lydia frowned.

“I’m serious, Astrid. I want you to have a good future.”

“Mom, I’m almost an adult.”

“You’re sixteen! Still a child.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t get a job to earn a bit of money and find my own way. I don’t expect you to keep investigating dangerous ghosts to fund my future, Mom. I want you to be happy. And if being happy means quitting Ghost House, then so be it.”

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Lydia reached forward and pulled her daughter into a hug. She felt Astrid stiffen against her.

“Please tell me you showered after…”

“No,” said Lydia, still clinging to her daughter.

“Ugh, please let me go. Right now.”

Lydia laughed weakly and released her.

She had so desperately wanted to do that final assignment, to reach that finish line that she had worked so hard to get close to. But she couldn’t help but feel lighter at Astrid’s words. As though she had been released from a prison.

She was going to do it. She was going to quit.

Lydia took a sip of her coffee and thought back to all the assignments she had done in the two months that she had worked with Betelgeuse. She had encountered wild spirits, sad spirits, and had allowed herself to be possessed twice.

She had put herself through so much.

And now, as she glanced over at her wonderful, amazing daughter, Lydia finally realised that it was far better to enjoy the rest of her time with her daughter than it was for her to take on that final dangerous assignment and put Astrid at risk of having no mother at all.

Ghost House had provided her with a lucrative career, and after those dangerous assignments, for which she had been paid extra, she had enough money to live comfortably. They would cope.

She finished her coffee, said a quick goodbye to Astrid and grabbed her coat before sending a quick text to Robert to tell him that she was coming into the studio. It was almost nighttime, but Lydia didn’t care.

She just wanted to be free.

And when she was, she was going to take Astrid’s advice and let herself be happy.

***

The first thing Lydia noticed when she greeted Robert in the meeting room was that he was looking much paler than usual. His skin was a sickly grey, and the room was colder than ever.

Lydia’s stomach churned as she watched the producer sorting through some documents. She felt nervous at the thought of telling him she was quitting. He was sure to be angry about it, and as Lydia’s gaze fixed on him, she suddenly regretted going there so late at night when the studio was almost empty.

She hadn’t yet told Betelgeuse about her decision to quit Ghost House. She would tell him later, after informing Robert of her decision. Not that it mattered whether she told him or not, as they were no longer business partners. What she did with her job was no longer Betelgeuse’s concern, and the thought of that saddened Lydia.

Robert’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“So, what brings you here so late, Lydia. You know I like to be the one to arrange all our meetings.”

He didn’t look up as he spoke, instead continuing to thumb through the documents in front of him.

“Sorry, Robert, but this is urgent.”

Robert finally looked up at her, and Lydia noticed his eyes move to her neck.

She swallowed hard as she realised that she had forgotten to cover the evidence of her and Betelgeuse’s passionate encounter.

“Your neck…”

“I…”

“Something you want to tell me, Lydia?”

Lydia remained silent, trying hard to ignore the blush that had crept to her cheeks.

“Well that’s…that’s disappointing. I thought you would have been focused on your work instead of acting like a teenager.”

“It’s not –”

“Oh come on, Lydia. I know a hickey when I see one. And that’s a hell of a lot of hickeys you’ve got there. You know, most of us grew out of that when we were sixteen. It’s really quite shocking that you would let anyone do that to you. You –”

“I can do what I want,” Lydia snapped, feeling a sudden rush of assertiveness. Whether that assertiveness had come as a result of a confidence boost from her encounter with Betelgeuse or because she was about to quit her job, she wasn’t sure.

“Being my manager doesn’t give you the right to tell me what I can and can’t do in my personal life, Robert.”

Robert studied her carefully, then sniggered.

“It’s because of me that you even have a personal life,” he said, sneering at her. “I was the one who helped you boost your popularity. No one would touch you if it wasn’t for me.”

“T-that’s not true,” said Lydia.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” growled Robert. “How many people do you think would have wanted to date you, even go near you, before I got you all that success and made you wear that sexy little dress?”

“This…this wasn’t to do with my success or what I was wearing. He…he wanted me regardless of that.”

“Was it a fan from the forum?”

“What?”

“The person who did that to you.”

Robert nodded at her neck.

“Was it someone from the forum?”

Lydia swallowed, suddenly feeling sick. Betelgeuse had spent weeks writing compliments on the forum, the same compliments he had uttered in her ear and against her neck in their heated moment of passion. Could Robert be right, and his desire had only come as a result of Lydia’s popularity and the dress? Lydia’s popularity had led to more people applying to be on the show, and that in turn had gained Betelgeuse more clients.

She knew that such a thought was ridiculous, that Betelgeuse didn’t care about her popularity, but her brain couldn’t help it. Robert’s words buried themselves in there and nestled amongst all the other things he had said to her since appointing himself as her manager.

“Yes,” Lydia finally answered before she could stop herself.

She should have worked out by now that Robert was incredibly good at manipulating her, at making her believe things that weren’t true. But despite all those weeks of manipulation, Lydia’s over-anxious brain and her vulnerable state meant that she still hadn’t realised. And she sat there now, wanting to hear how Robert was going to respond to the news of her sexual encounter with her biggest fan on the forum.

“Well, there you go!” said Robert, sitting back in his chair and laughing. “All the success and the dress finally got you laid. And that’s thanks to me.”

The thought of Betelgeuse only wanting her because she was popular may have been ridiculous, but Robert’s words about the dress definitely weren’t. On the occasions that she had worn the low-cut dress that Robert had chosen for her, she had believed that Betelgeuse hadn’t wanted to see her in it. He had quickly shifted his gaze from her cleavage every single time. And Lydia had started to believe that he wasn’t averting his gaze because of the rules of the contract, but because he didn’t think she looked attractive in the dress.

She had quickly discovered, when she had kissed him, that she had been very wrong.

Amongst the romantic words that Betelgeuse had uttered, there had been many obscene ones as well. This hadn’t come as a surprise to Lydia, and it had actually fuelled her desire.

He had described, in great detail as his body moved against hers, exactly what he had wanted to do to her the first time he had seen her in the dress.

“The sight of you in that goddamn dress made me harder than I was when rigor mortis first set in,” he had growled against her ear.

While any normal person would have come to their senses at the words “rigor mortis” and immediately stopped themselves from going any further with a guy who had no pulse, Lydia had groaned loudly in response and let him continue to nip her soft flesh.

She blushed furiously at the memory, and Robert sniggered at her expression.

“So, who was the lucky guy?” he asked.

“I…”

“Let me guess…was it RedSupergiant?”

Lydia swallowed hard, but she wasn’t worried. There was no way that Robert would know who Betelgeuse was. He had only ever seen him in disguise. To Robert, RedSupergiant was just a random, overzealous fan.

“It’s gotta be him. I’ve seen his posts on the forum. The guy sounded crazy about you.”

His mouth curved up into an unpleasant smirk.

“Really, Lydia,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m glad that I helped to boost your popularity and your love life, but sleeping with an obsessed fan? I thought you were better than that.”

“I…”

“You do realise that this guy will spill all the details on the forum now, don’t you? He’ll describe everything you let him do to you in great detail to the public.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Lydia said, glaring at him, but as she spoke the words, she wasn’t sure what Betelgeuse was planning to do. She hoped he would have the sense to delete his account now that the contract was broken and he could compliment her to her face.

“I really must arrange that therapy,” said Robert. “It’s clearly moved onto the stage where you’re doing batshit crazy things. Letting a fan give you hickeys like that? It’s not good behaviour for a fifty-two-year-old, Lydia.”

Lydia’s heart started hammering hard against her chest. And suddenly she felt angry.

“I’m not batshit crazy!” she snapped, suddenly standing up.

“Sweetheart, you’re the very definition of it. I thought it was bad enough when you chose to go to a packed convention full of fans, knowing that you have anxiety issues. But to have sex with an obsessed fan? The guy sounds like a stalker, and you’re clearly desperate for attention.”

“I…”

“Let me make this better. Remember, when you’re unhappy, I’m unhappy, and –”

“I quit!” Lydia said, raising her voice to cut him off. “I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, Robert, but I won’t be completing the final assignment of the season. I’m exhausted and I just want to leave.”

Lydia was breathing hard in the aftermath of her outburst, and the silence hung heavily in the air. Her stomach churned as she stared at Robert, whose expression was unreadable.

She was expecting an outburst of anger, but there was none.

Instead, her manager simply shrugged.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s fine.”

Usually, when Robert said something was fine, he would follow it up with words that would make Lydia feel guilty. This time, however, he didn’t say anything else and went back to sorting through the documents in front of him.

“W-what?” Lydia said, unable to believe his nonchalant response.

“It’s fine, Lydia. If you want to quit, then quit. You’ve worked hard. You deserve to retire.”

“And the final assignment?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Lydia tried to ignore the twinge of guilt, but she couldn't.

“I…look Robert, I’m so sorry. But I just…”

He held a hand up to silence her.

“Lydia, I said it’s fine. Go home. Put your feet up and rest.”

Lydia wanted to feel happy at his words, but instead she felt uneasy. He had accepted her resignation far too easily…

“I’ve got a few items in the studio that I, er, need to get.”

“I’ll send them to you. Go and rest.”

And just like that, Lydia was able to walk away.

And as she turned away from him, she didn’t see Robert’s mouth curve upwards into a wide smirk…

***

Rory stared at the ancient ghost whose name he had just called three times, wondering what the hell Lydia saw in him. He had worked out, ages ago, that RedSupergiant was Betelgeuse.

He shook his head in disbelief, unable to understand how his ex-fiancée had been able to bring herself to go through with the act of sharing a bed with a six-hundred-year-old moss-covered ghost who had a huge gut.

He hadn’t missed all the compliments that the lovesick ghost had written on the forum. It really was pathetic.

He had also worked out, before that day when Betelgeuse had confronted him, that the two of them were working together. Rory’s death had enabled him to communicate with and see all the ghosts that he had not believed in when he was alive, and he had been able to see Betelgeuse clearly in all the footage that Andy the cameraman had captured.

And despite his disgust at finding out about Lydia’s sexual encounter with the ghost, he had quickly realised that he could use it to his advantage.

Lydia quitting Ghost House was not an issue. In fact, she had unknowingly made things easier for him because now he was going to be able to get the lovesick fool that was standing in front of him right where he wanted him. As soon as he got rid of the grimy thing, he could complete his plan of getting what he wanted from Lydia.

He sat there watching Betelgeuse, who was glaring at him, and grinned.

“Are you gonna hurry and tell me what the fuck you want? I ain’t got all day. What the hell did you just summon me for?”

“You’ll soon find out,” said Rory, punching some numbers on the keypad of his phone. “Just need to make a call.”

“Fuck’s sake.”

Rory sniggered at the ghost’s impatience while waiting for Andy to answer. The cameraman picked up after a couple of rings, and Rory set the call to loudspeaker.

“Evening Robert,” came Andy’s voice, which sounded tinny. “Everything ok?”

“Everything’s great. Really great. Listen Andy, I need you to go on location.”

There was silence for a few moments, then Andy spoke.

“Now? Robert, it’s Saturday evening. I can’t do it tonight. Got a child free night with the wife. We’re just about to go out.”

“Oh, this won’t take long,” said Rory. “It’ll be a quick job. Need you to get to Silverstone Manor and capture some good footage for Lydia’s final assignment.”

His mouth curved into a grin as Betelgeuse raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously, Robert, I can’t. I –”

“I’ll pay you double.”

There was silence, followed by a loud sigh, and then Andy spoke.

“Fine, but it had better be a quick one.”

“Don’t worry, it will be.”

“What the fuck was that all about?” growled Betelgeuse as Rory hung up.

“You heard the conversation. Lydia’s on location. She’s there right now, ready to take on her biggest assignment yet.”

Rory had never felt such satisfaction as he was feeling at that moment. He watched with glee as Betelgeuse’s face crumpled up in panic.

“You’re lyin’.”

“Oh, I’m not lying. She’s there right now.”

“But…she would have told me.”

Rory let out a bark of laughter and shook his head.

“Let's talk about all those assignments that you helped her with.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you anythin’,” Betelgeuse growled.

“Fine,” said Rory, holding his hands up. “But if you don’t, then I’m not giving you details of Lydia’s assignment. And don’t even think about threatening me, because my powers now match your own.”

Betelgeuse looked like he was seething, which caused Rory’s smirk to widen.

“Fine! We had a deal. I helped her with her assignments, and she helped me with my bio-exorcist business,” the ghost quickly confirmed, clearly desperate for Rory to tell him what kind of dangerous spirit Lydia was about to face.

“And…”

“And the contract got broken.”

“And why was that?”

“She didn’t want me touchin’ her and…”

Betelgeuse’s voice trailed off, and Rory grinned.

“And it got broken when you fucked each other.”

Oh, this was great. Rory sat there, almost bursting with glee. They were no longer bound by this contract, and this meant that it was far easier for him to say that Lydia had every right to go to Silverstone Manor without telling her ex-business partner. The two of them had made it much easier for Rory to get them both in a position where he could destroy them permanently and finally get his hands on Lydia's money.

Betelgeuse was still frowning as he digested Rory's words.

“How the fuck did you know about…”

“Oh, come on. It’s not that difficult to work out. The fact that she confirmed it was someone on the forum. Your use of the name RedSupergiant. You’ve been acting like a lovesick idiot on there for weeks now. I never thought Lydia would be stupid enough to actually reciprocate your feelings, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s always been a weirdo.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!”

Rory shook his head and laughed.

“Well,” he said. “Tick tock. Time is running out.”

“How the hell do I know you’re tellin’ the truth? Lydia wouldn’t go to the assignment without tellin’ me.”

“Why not? You aren’t bound by the contract anymore. She doesn’t need to tell you when she’s doing an assignment anymore. She texted me earlier and told me that she was coming into the studio. When she arrived, she told me she wanted to do the assignment tonight. She seemed eager, so I told her that Andy would meet her there.”

Betelgeuse continued to study his expression, clearly looking for signs that he was lying.

Rory sighed and held out his phone.

“There it is,” he said. “The text she sent me telling me that she was coming into the studio. Now you can either waste time standing there or go and rescue her. I hope you do decide to go there and save her, because the audience is gonna love what I’ve got in store for them.”

Betelgeuse growled at him and disappeared, leaving behind a trail of green smoke.

And Rory laughed as he thought of Lydia resting comfortably at home while her ex-business partner was currently on a mission to save her in Silverstone Manor, where a Ghost Eater was waiting to devour him.

***

“Shit!” muttered Wolf, as he stared at the ghost sitting opposite him. “And you’re absolutely sure about this?”

Frank, the ghost who had drawn an emergency door and reported seeing Forrester teleport with another ghost the other day, nodded.

“Yep, just heard them talking about it now.”

Usually ghosts had to wait hours for an appointment with Wolf, but upon receiving a call from the Waiting Room’s receptionist and hearing that Frank needed to see him urgently, the head of the Afterlife Crime Unit had immediately called him in.

The ghost had told him, upon entering his office, that he had heard Forrester and Betelgeuse’s discussion through the meeting room door. 

“He said that time was running out and that this Beetle guy had to save the fleshbag as soon as possible. I think the guy teleported there right away, but I can’t be sure. I wanted to come here and tell you straight away, as I suspect this location might be where Forrester took the other ghost. Whatever is in there is dangerous.”

“Did they mention the name of the location?”

Frank nodded.

“Silverstone Manor,” he said.

“Fuck’s sake,” muttered Wolf, running a hand over his face. “Well, thanks for your time, Frank.”

Frank nodded and exited the room.

Janet entered seconds later, clutching a fresh cup of coffee.

“Janet, we've got an emergency. I gotta get the boys together. Cancel all appointments right now.”

Janet nodded as he took the cup from her. Wolf took a huge gulp and set the cup down.

Damn Geuse and his infatuation with the fleshbag. Wolf had warned him not to get involved but Betelgeuse being the annoying, defiant fucker that he was clearly hadn’t listened.

Wolf looked up as his Ghost Squad entered the room.

“Prepare yourselves, boys. We gotta get to this Silverstone Manor as soon as possible, and I have no idea what we’re about to face.”

***

Upon arriving at the drafty, rundown manor, Betelgeuse noticed two things. Firstly, Lydia was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she was already inside, but if she was, then she was sure to be alone. There was no way that Andy would have arrived so quickly after Rory had contacted him. Secondly, there seemed to be an eerie glow surrounding the building.

Whatever it was that was in there was dangerous. Betelgeuse had seen that ominous glow before, and it was never a good sign. He moved closer to the entrance of the building, fully prepared to face whatever it was that was in there.

They were not bound by the contract anymore, but that wouldn’t stop him from saving Lydia. He had spent years helping her out with her show, lurking nearby and stopping her from encountering dangerous spirits. He wasn’t about to stop doing that now.

He would never stop saving her.

He quickly teleported into the kitchen and stared at the rusty pots and pans that littered the counters. Still, there was no sign of Lydia.

Suddenly panicking and hoping that whatever it was that was in here hadn’t already hurt her, he teleported to the living room.

He heard the growling straight away.

Betelgeuse’s head turned, and his eyes widened as they fell upon the dark shadow in the corner of the room. Whatever this thing was, it was fucking huge and sounded like some kind of wild, hungry beast.

Betelgeuse could see its eyes shining out of the shroud of darkness surrounding it. The old manor had no electricity, so the entire house was dark.

Betelgeuse had never, in all his years in the afterlife, felt such terror.

Until now.

Slivers of moonlight shone through the mansion’s large windows, and particles of dust danced in the air. Betelgeuse remained silent, not wanting to alert the creature of his presence. But it was too late. The thing had noticed him. He watched as it slowly shuffled forward and moved into the light.

And Betelgeuse gasped as its features came fully into view. Its once beautiful face was now twisted and ugly, with one half drooping, making it look like a Picasso painting. Thick dark hair tumbled past its thick shoulders, and when the creature stood up to its full height, it towered over him. The remains of its torn dress hung off its body, and its grime-covered skin was glistening under the light.

The shiny staples littering its face, neck and hands were the only thing that made the creature recognisable to him.

And as Betelgeuse stood there now, unable to tear his eyes away from the deformed ghost in front of him, he came to the horrifying realisation that Rory hadn’t been the only one who had undergone a transformation in the sandworm’s stomach.

He didn’t have much time to think about it, though, nor did he have time to dwell on the fact that Rory had tricked him, because Delores suddenly lunged at him.

At the same time, Wolf Jackson and his Ghost Squad came crashing through the windows of the manor, and all hell broke loose.

Chapter Text

Lydia tried to relax as she waited for Betelgeuse to materialise. He had been late responding to her before, and each of those times had been because he was with one of his clients. But even then, he had appeared quickly.

Lydia frowned. She had promised him earlier, when they had been in bed together, that she would call him, so it wasn’t as though she was summoning him unexpectedly. She leaned over Adam’s model, drumming her fingers on the tiny spines of grass that surrounded the gravestones.

Ten minutes passed.

Fifteen minutes…

Lydia took a deep breath and moved away from the model. She ran a hand over her face and sat down on one of the dusty sofas.

Twenty minutes…

Lydia called him again.

No answer.

She stood up and began to pace the room. Maybe he was just having a difficult time with a client, or maybe he was angry that she had told him she still wanted to do the last assignment of the season. Whatever the reason for his lack of response, Lydia now wished that she had called him sooner and told him that she had decided to quit Ghost House.

Maybe he didn’t want anything to do with her anymore now that their relationship had started to progress…

Lydia knew that such a thought was ridiculous. Betelgeuse had been lurking around for years, and he had told her he would always be a presence in her life. But she couldn’t help but wonder if his lack of response was a sign that she was about to have yet another failed relationship to add to her list. Not that they were in a relationship, but Lydia had hoped that he would at least want to see her again.

Betelgeuse was just as strange and unusual as she was. There was no doubt about that. But Lydia couldn’t help but wonder if there was a possibility that he was no longer interested in her now that their friendship had transformed into something sexual. He had been enthusiastic when she had kissed him, responding almost instantly. But Lydia was old enough to know that sometimes, when that initial rush of desire was out of the system, the interest would disappear.

He had seemed so happy and affectionate in the aftermath and even told her that breaking the contract was worth it because he could now touch her.

But what if it had all been a lie? If he was so interested, then why was he ignoring her now?

Lydia called his name three times again and continued to wait.

Finally, after half an hour, she exited the attic.

She tried to remain calm as she entered the kitchen and joined Astrid for the late evening dinner that she had abandoned to summon Betelgeuse, but the observant teenager immediately noticed that something was up.

“That was quick. I was expecting to have to get the headphones out again. Something wrong?”

“He didn’t respond,” said Lydia, her voice shaky.

“Give him time, Mom. You’ve not even been up there that long.”

Lydia shook her head.

“He usually responds straight away.”

“He’s ghosting you,” said Astrid, her mouth curving up into a smirk.

Lydia threw her a warning look.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. Mom, relax. I’m sure he’ll respond soon. He’s been haunting you for years.”

“Yeah, well, that was before we…”

Lydia’s voice trailed off, and Astrid frowned.

“You think he’s ignoring you because of that?”

“Unfortunately, some men do, Astrid. They get what they want, and then they aren’t interested anymore. It’s just the way it is. I was probably just another notch on his bedpost.”

“Mom, he’s dead. I don’t think he’s gonna have many other women to share a bed with.”

But Lydia's brain was already in overdrive as her anxiety bubbled around in there. She thought back to that night in the attic when she had first met him. He had been sitting on the roof of what looked like a brothel, wearing nothing but a dressing gown, clearly having just enjoyed several sexual activities with the women inside it.

And now that she thought about it, for a guy who had been in the afterlife for centuries, he certainly didn’t seem rusty when it came to knowing what to do in the bedroom. It now seemed obvious to Lydia that he was probably having regular sex with female ghosts down there. Probably ones from the same brothel.

Perhaps he had simply wanted to know what it was like to have a sexual encounter with a living woman. Perhaps she had simply been an experiment, and now that he had experimented, he had lost interest.

“Mom?”

Astrid’s soft voice pulled her from her thoughts.

Lydia quickly wiped away the tears that had escaped at some point during her thoughts, hating the feelings of insecurity that had developed because of her failed relationships and all the unpleasant comments on the forum. Then, she spoke.

“He’s always been a mystery to me. Like one big ghostly ball of mystery. Everything he says or does…I can never tell if he’s being serious or whether it’s just part of his theatrics. Like the whole sequence in the church. But I…I was starting to think that maybe he did actually have feelings for me…”

“Well, yeah, it’s obvious he does,” said Astrid, rolling her eyes. “The guy spends years helping you with your job and then enters a business partnership with you and immediately finds a loophole that enables him to declare his love for you on a public forum. It’s pretty obvious how he feels about you.”

“He wouldn’t ignore me like this if he had any feelings at all for me…it’s just so unlike him.”

“It could be something simple, Mom. He might just be busy. Give it time.”

But Lydia shook her head.

“I let myself fall for him…just like I fell for your dad and even Rory to start with…I can’t believe I’ve let myself be used again.”

“Mom –”

The sound of Lydia's phone ringing cut Astrid off, and Lydia pulled it out of her pocket. She stared at the name that was flashing up on the screen and frowned. Taking a deep breath, she took the call.

“Andy?”

Loud wails and smashing sounds emanated from the phone, causing Lydia to grimace and hold the device away from her ear.

“Lydia, where the hell are you? It’s fucking crazy here!” came Andy’s frantic voice.

“I’m at home. Where are you?”

“Silverstone Manor! Robert told me you were here and asked me to come and film the assignment!”

“What?”

“I don’t know what the hell is going on as I can’t see much, but whatever it is that’s in there is causing chaos, and I’m pretty sure I heard your ghost friend…the crazy guy with the wild hair.”

Lydia was silent. Her breathing started to quicken.

“Are you sure it was him?”

“Sounded like him. He was shouting, and I’m pretty sure I heard him scream at some point, too. Whatever it is that’s in there with him…I don’t know if ghosts can die again or not, but he sounds pretty close to a second death.”

Lydia almost dropped her phone.  

“Mom, what is it?” said Astrid, taking in Lydia’s panicked expression.

“Lydia?” came Andy’s voice through the phone.

Lydia didn’t respond. She sat there, her eyes fixed on her unfinished dinner, breathing hard. Astrid grabbed her phone and placed her other hand on Lydia’s arm to comfort her.

“Andy, it’s Astrid, what’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” shouted Andy down the line. “I’m supposed to be filming, but I can’t get in there. The windows were smashed in by something, and all hell is breaking loose in there. It’s too dangerous for me to get in.”

“We’ll be right there,” said Astrid. She was about to hang up, but Andy’s voice continued to shout down the line.

“No! Don’t come here. It’s not safe. Get your mom to contact Forrester and find out why the hell he told me that she was here.”

“Will do,” said Astrid. She hung up.

Lydia was still staring down at her plate, her breathing erratic.  

“Mom?”

“Whatever is in there…it’ll be highly dangerous…” Lydia eventually managed to say. “He must have gone there thinking that I was doing the assignment…but why did he think I was there?”

“Maybe Robert told him you were there?”

“Robert doesn’t know him, though. He’s never seen him in his usual form, only ever in disguise. He wouldn’t have known that we used to be business partners. And anyway, I told Robert that I quit, so why would he tell him that I was there? It doesn’t make sense…”

Lydia grabbed her phone out of Astrid’s hand and dialled Robert’s number.

There was no response.

Growling in frustration, she tried again. But still, he didn’t answer.

Seconds later, her phone pinged. Lydia quickly opened the text message.

Busy. You’ll have to come into the studio.

“He wants me to go to the studio, but there’s no time! We need to get to Silverstone Manor right now!”

“I think it’s best if you see Robert first, Mom. Find out what’s going on.”

“Astrid, I can’t leave him there! Whatever it is that’s in there is dangerous!”

“He’s a ghost! I’m pretty sure he can’t die again.”

But Lydia knew it was possible. She knew that there were ways in which ghosts could die for good. Whether it was death by a soul sucker or by being sent to hell, it was definitely possible for a ghost to die again.

“He’ll be fine, Mom. Look how long he’s been in the afterlife for. I’m sure he’ll be ok.”

“I honestly don’t know if he will, Astrid. Some of the spirits that I’ve seen during all my recent investigations…they were dangerous. I could hear the sounds in the background when Andy called me. I need to find out what’s going on.”

“Let me come with you!”

But Lydia held up a hand, causing Astrid to stop in her tracks.

“No! It might not be safe, even in the studio.”

Lydia shivered at the thought of having another encounter with Robert in the cold meeting room.

“Wait here and I’ll call you to let you know what’s happening.”

Astrid nodded, and Lydia grabbed her coat and exited the house, trying to remain calm.

***

It took Wolf and his Ghost Squad a total of twenty minutes to prise Delores off Betelgeuse. Shouts, groans, and wails filled the manor, and Betelgeuse let out a hiss of pain as Delores’s sharp nails sank into his cold flesh.

“Let me have him!” Delores growled at the tall ghosts that were trying to pull her off him. “I shall feast on him and become powerful! His soul and body belong to me!”

“I don’t think so, honey!” Betelgeuse replied, his eyes squeezed shut in agony as black blood seeped from the wounds caused by Delores’s nails.

At some point during the struggle, Betelgeuse had felt Lydia summoning him, but he was in no position to be able to respond. He hoped that she wouldn’t think he was ignoring her.

He would never ignore her.

The ghost struggled as he tried to keep his head turned away from Delores’s sharp teeth, which were inches from sinking into his neck. And when the Ghost Squad finally managed to pull her off him, Betelgeuse was able to see the full extent of his ex-wife’s transformation.

Wolf pulled him back, both of them watching in horror as Delores began to devour members of the squad, their wails of pain echoing throughout the drafty manor.

“Jesus!” shouted Wolf. “She’s transformed into a fucking Ghost Eater! Get back, boys! Retreat! We gotta get the hell outta here now!”

Several members of the squad began to back off, but the ones closest to Delores weren’t so fortunate, and the once strong team of ten tall, thickset ghosts quickly became five, each one of the surviving members looking terrified.

“How the fuck did you know I was here?” shouted Betelgeuse over the screams.

“I’ll explain later,” said Wolf. “We gotta focus on getting outta here before this thing eats us all!”

As he spoke the words, Delores lunged forward again and clamped her sharp teeth down on the head of another thicket ghost. He was devoured within seconds, and she lunged at the next one.

Wolf started to bolt out of the room, pulling Betelgeuse with him.

“Jesus, Wolf, easy on the jacket!” the ghost shouted, as the head of the Afterlife Crime Unit tried to drag him away from Delores, whose mouth was now covered in black blood after her meal. “I can just teleport outta here! You guys can use the kitchen door!”

Within seconds, Betelgeuse was outside the manor. He heard a noise behind him and quickly spun round. He could see Andy, the cameraman, running away from the manor, his equipment still clutched tightly in his hands.

Minutes later, Wolf and the remaining members of his squad, of which there were now only two, exited the building. A howl of frustration came drifting through the broken windows, and Betelgeuse could see the large shadow of Delores moving back into the corner of the room.

“Over here!” whispered Wolf, gesturing to some bushes. “We gotta get further away from the manor. We don’t want her jumping out of one of those windows.”

The group moved towards the bushes, and Betelgeuse, who was panting hard and clutching the deep scratches on his arm, asked Wolf the same question he had moments earlier.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Frank, the ghost who saw Robert Forrester kidnapping another ghost in the studio, came to see us. He overheard you talking to Forrester and heard Forrester tell you that your fleshbag was here.”

“When you say Forrester,” said Betelgeuse with a growl, “You mean Rory. Now you have all the evidence you need to go and catch that fucker.”

“We certainly do,” agreed Wolf. “This must have been the place where he brought the other ghost. He’s been feeding her ghosts.”

“How the fuck has this even happened? I was eaten and shat out of a sandworm, but you don’t see me eatin’ ghosts.”

“It may have something to do with the fact that she and Rory were digested together. It seems to have caused them both to develop special abilities. He was a living person who gained special powers like yours after being digested with her. She was a soul sucker and got upgraded to a Ghost Eater.”

“Fuck’s sake,” muttered Betelgeuse. “Shouldn’t you be gettin’ rid of her?”

“Too dangerous,” said Wolf, shaking his head. “When she was a soul sucker, there was at least a small chance that a ghost’s soul could be reunited with its body but a Ghost Eater? There’s no coming back from that. The ghost completely devours other spirits and digests them. It’s a permanent second death. I don’t even know how she can be destroyed.”

“Harold’s gone, boss,” said one of Wolf’s remaining Ghost Squad members, sniffling. “And Stanley…and Gerald…and John…and…and…”

The ghost let out a loud wail of grief.

“Shhhh!” hissed Betelgeuse. “Keep it down, will ya? Don’t want her comin’ out here and chowin’ down on the rest of us, do ya?”

“I’m sorry, boys,” said Wolf, shaking his head. “If I’d have known what we were dealing with, I would have used a more tactical approach instead of crashing dramatically through the windows.”

“Well thanks for savin’ my ass, Wolf,” said Betelgeuse, patting Wolf on the shoulder. “Appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Geuse. Just make sure you don’t go in there again. And keep that fleshbag of yours far away from there.”

Betelgeuse gave Wolf a salute in response.

“So, boys, ready to capture this Rory fella?”

The two remaining Ghost Squad members nodded, still sniffling.

“I’m comin’ with you,” said Betelgeuse. “This is somethin’ I don’t wanna miss.”

***

Lydia's heart was racing as she rushed through the empty studio. She caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall in the corridor and saw that it was almost midnight. Wondering why on earth Robert was still at the studio, she ran faster, and when she finally reached the meeting room where she knew he would be, she could feel the cold air seeping out from underneath the door.

Robert immediately looked up as she entered, a huge grin on his face.

“Lydia!” he said, pushing the documents on the table away from him and standing up. “What brings you here again?”

Lydia slammed the door shut behind her and, glaring at Robert, responded to his question.

“Why the hell did you tell Andy that I was at Silverstone Manor?”

Robert frowned, but Lydia didn’t miss the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did. Andy phoned me and told me that you told him to go and film the assignment at Silverstone Manor! Why? I quit the show this afternoon.”

“I know you did.”

“So what the hell are you playing at?”

“Lydia, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I –”

“Bullshit!” shouted Lydia, pushing the chair in front of her against the table in frustration. “Stop doing this! Stop trying to make me feel like I’m going crazy!”

“Lydia, sweetheart, you are going crazy. I never told Andy to go to Silverstone Manor. I’ve been in the studio all evening, trying to prepare for the final assignment that you very selfishly pulled out of.”

“I…”

Lydia's voice trailed off. Robert had seemed absolutely fine with her decision to quit the show earlier on, and now he was calling her selfish. Her brain suddenly went into overdrive, like it always did whenever he was trying to make her believe something different had happened than how she remembered it happening.

“You were fine with my decision to quit…”

“Was I?”

“Yes!” said Lydia, her voice straining in frustration.

“Oh, Lydia, here we go again. You’re misremembering things. You –”

“Oh no,” said Lydia, backing away from him and waving her finger at him. “No, you are not going to do this to me right now. Just tell me what the hell is in that manor.”

Robert shook his head.

“You quit the show, sweetheart. It’s not really any of your concern anymore.”

“Just tell me!” shouted Lydia. “I need…I need…”

She began breathing hard and took a few deep breaths. When she had composed herself, she spoke again.

“Please,..just tell me what’s in there.”

“You really want to know what you would have been dealing with?”

Lydia nodded, her hand grasping the material of her coat hard as she waited for him to tell her.

For a few moments, there was silence. And then, Robert delivered his answer.

“A Ghost Eater.”

The words floated into Lydia’s ears and hovered around in her brain for a few moments before being digested. And when they finally were digested, when Lydia finally realised the full extent of the danger that Betelgeuse was in, her heart began to race.

He was probably already dead by now. Destroyed forever by a Ghost Eater. Lydia pulled out the chair and sank onto it before placing her head in her hands and letting out a small wail of pain.

Robert’s smooth voice sounded from across the table.

 “Sweetheart, whatever is the matter? Surely it’s a good thing that you won't have to investigate the Ghost Eater? Why are you so upset?”

“He…he’s in there,” Lydia sobbed.

“Who?”

If she had been looking at him, Lydia would have seen the grin that was plastered on his face, but she wasn’t. Her face was still buried in her hands, and when she replied, her voice was slightly muffled.

“My…my friend. My ghost friend.”

Lydia no longer cared about discussing Betelgeuse with Robert, she was far too devastated at that moment to care if she revealed his identity.

“Your ghost friend…would this be the same ghost who has been helping you with your assignments?”

Lydia quickly removed her hands from her face and answered him.

"Yes."

“Thought so. And it's also the same guy who accompanied you to the party, isn't it? And the one who interrupted our dinner date and punched me. And the one who beat me up. And the one who was at the convention who wouldn’t leave your table when you were signing autographs. Don't even think about denying it, Lydia.”

“I…”

“You can’t fool me. And don’t try and tell me that this ghost isn’t the one who has been posting sickly compliments about you on the forum. The guy’s certainly got it bad. The poor fucker must have gone to Silverstone Manor thinking you were there. How…tragic.”

Lydia placed her head back in her hands, and Robert took the opportunity to continue fuelling her guilt.

“Did you not tell him that you had quit the show?”

“I…no…I didn’t. I was going to call him later on and tell him, but when I tried to, he didn’t respond.”

“That’s because he was probably too busy getting eaten, Lydia. Because of you.”

And Lydia couldn’t tell Robert that he was wrong this time, because he wasn’t. He was right. If Betelgeuse had died a permanent death, then it was entirely her fault for not telling him sooner that she had quit the show.

“Please,” she said weakly, desperately. “Please tell me how I can save him.”

Robert sighed heavily and shook his head.

“Nothing you can do,” he said.

Lydia cried harder into her hands.

“Unless…”

She kept her head in her hands, but she heard Robert pulling something out of one of the cabinets, and when she eventually looked up, she gasped.  

He was clutching the Handbook for the Recently Deceased.

“How did you…”

“The studio is haunted, Lydia. You know that. I found one lying around in one of the dressing rooms.”

“We can’t use that,” Lydia said quickly, immediately thinking of that disastrous occasion when Otho had gotten hold of the handbook and almost exorcised the Maitlands.

Nothing good ever came of the living gaining access to that handbook. And as she watched Robert tapping his finger on the front cover, she knew that he was about to suggest something dangerous.

“There is a way we can save your ghost friend,” he said. “But you have to speak a special incantation. We will have to go into the afterlife.”

Lydia frowned.

“How?” she said. “We’re not dead, we can’t get in.”

“We have to.”

“How would going into the afterlife save him?”

“The afterlife has laws, Lydia. We can find someone to help us destroy the Ghost Eater.”

Lydia stared at him. Robert had never been able to see ghosts before. There was no way that he would know about the afterlife…

“You…you can’t see ghosts, Robert. How do you know about the afterlife and its laws?”

“Look, do you want to save your friend or not?”

“Of course I do! But…there’s no way we will be able to get in.”

Robert sighed and flicked through the handbook before settling on a page.

“Says here that the living can get through in an emergency.”

“Let me see…”

Lydia reached across the table, but Robert pulled the handbook away from her and studied her through narrowed eyes.

“Don’t you trust me, Lydia?”

Lydia was silent. She had been deceived before, and she didn’t want to allow herself to ever go through that deceit again. But Betelgeuse was in trouble, maybe already permanently dead.

Lydia realised she had no choice but to trust Robert. If it meant saving Betelgeuse, then she had to take that risk.

“Fine,” she said. “But I don’t see how this will work.

Robert stood up, moved over to the cabinet and pulled out a piece of chalk. Then, he drew a door on the wall.

“It says here that we have to say this incantation to get in. You should say it, Lydia. It’ll help fast-track you to the afterlife’s waiting room and get you a quick appointment with whoever it is that can save him.”

But Lydia didn’t move. Instead, she stared at the handbook in Robert’s hands and then back up at Robert. And as she stared into his black eyes, she suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of dread and backed away from him.

“I…”

“Lydia, you need to trust me on this. You want to save your friend, don’t you? Of course you do. You’re unhappy right now, aren’t you? And you know that makes me unhappy. I want you to be happy. And you’re not gonna be happy until you make this right. He’s in danger because of you, and you need to save him. You need to speak this incantation to get us both in.”

It all seemed so wrong. There was no way that Robert, a living person, would know so much about the afterlife. It made no sense at all. But Lydia was desperate.

The truth was, she had fallen in love.

She had tried so hard to fight it, to deny it. But she couldn’t anymore. Weeks and weeks of dangerous assignments and “training sessions” had forced her and Betelgeuse to spend time together and get to know each other. And despite how much she had tried to fight it, Lydia had grown to love the ghost that she had gotten to know.

And the thought of never seeing him again, of losing him forever, was tearing her apart.

She had no choice but to trust Robert.

“Ok,” she said. “I’ll say the incantation.”

She went to take the book off him, but he shook his head.

“It’s best if I keep the book,” he said.

This should have been a red flag for Lydia, but she was in such a desperate state that she didn’t pay much attention to it. She just wanted to get in there and get help for Betelgeuse.

She watched as Robert wrote the incantation down on a piece of paper. He handed it to her, and she began to read.

“De mundo vivorum audeo in iterum…Ut liber iterum ambulet alius.”

And when she had finished, Robert took the paper from her and threw it onto the floor.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Ladies first.”

And as she walked through the door to the afterlife, she missed the possessed Robert’s mouth curving up into a huge grin as Rory revelled in the success of committing that one last final act of manipulation.

***

“Right, here’s what we’re gonna do,” said Wolf. “We’re gonna make a quiet entrance this time, take him by surprise. Geuse, you can help us try and catch him.”

“With pleasure,” growled Betelgeuse. “Can’t wait to see this fucker get what he deserves. Ain’t no way he’s gonna get his hands on Lydia’s money.”

A noise caused the group to look up, and Betelgeuse saw Astrid running towards them.

“Hey kid,” he said when she reached them, giving her a salute. “Is your mom ok? Heard her callin’ me earlier, but I was a bit, er, busy tryin’ not to get eaten by my ex-wife. I’ll explain later.”

“Mom went to the studio earlier on,” said Astrid, trying to catch her breath. “She said…she’d call me to…let me know what was happening. She…sorry…out of breath…she began to panic when you didn’t respond, and…and Andy, the studio’s cameraman, phoned her and asked her where she was…”

Betelgeuse waited, a little impatiently, for Astrid’s breathing to return to normal.

“She told Andy that she quit the show earlier on and wasn’t meant to be there, but Robert didn’t tell Andy that. Instead, he told Andy that she was there…”

“Yeah, poor Andy was fuckin’ tricked like I was and…wait, she quit the show?”

“Yes. That’s why she was summoning you, to tell you.”

“Fuck’s sake,” growled Betelgeuse. “And is she still in there?”

He nodded in the direction of the studio, and Astrid nodded in response.

“That fucker better not have harmed her.”

“Do you think Robert’s dangerous?” Astrid asked, suddenly looking worried.

“No, because it ain’t Robert. It’s Rory.”

Astrid’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“Rory has been possessing Robert all this time.”

“So…so it was true? Mom told me that you suspected it, but she didn’t believe it.”

“I know she didn’t”, said Betelgeuse, sighing. “And now the fucker has probably done something to her.”

“It’s ok,” said Wolf, reaching out and touching Astrid’s arm in comfort. “We’re gonna go in there and save her. This bastard is going straight to the Fires of Damnation when we catch him.”

They all moved closer to the building. Betelgeuse considered teleporting but decided that Wolf was right – they needed to make a quiet entrance and capture Rory by surprise. Any sudden movements would enable him to escape their clutches more easily.

As they moved through the building, Betelgeuse felt an overwhelming sense of dread. If only Lydia had listened to him…

And when they finally reached the meeting room, his fears were confirmed.

They looked around the empty room, and Astrid gasped as she noticed the open door.

“Fuck…” muttered Betelgeuse at the same time.

“Shit!” said Wolf. “He must have taken her into the afterlife!”

Betelgeuse watched as Astrid picked up the piece of paper that Rory had dropped earlier, the one with the incantation written on.

“Oh no…” she breathed, her eyes widening as she read the words. “Oh god….”

“What, what is it?” asked Betelgeuse, moving closer to her.

“This…this is the same incantation that Jeremy tricked me into saying, that night…on Halloween, when he…when he…”

Astrid couldn’t finish her sentence, but Betelgeuse didn’t need her to.

Rory’s plan was now clear.

He had tricked Lydia into swapping her life for his, just like Jeremy had done with Astrid.

Rory was now able to walk free among the living again, while Lydia had just earned a seat on the Soul Train, along with a one-way ticket to the Great Beyond.

Chapter Text

Betelgeuse had never been heartbroken.

Until now.

There had been no heartbreak when he had discovered Delores’s deceit. The only thing he had felt, right after he had drunk the poison-laced drink, had been pure rage.

And even afterwards, as he lay there dying and staring at Delores’s dismembered body, he still hadn’t felt anything close to heartbreak. The only emotions that he had felt, from the moment he had realised what she had done until the moment when he had eventually accepted his death, had been anger and bitterness.

There had never been any hurt, despite Betelgeuse falling in love with her. This, Betelgeuse had come to realise years later, was because her cruel actions had quickly erased any love he had felt for her. He had instantly developed a hatred for her.

And he was now directing that hatred at himself.

He was angry at himself for setting the sandworm on Rory and Delores. If he had set it on Delores and not gotten rid of Rory, Lydia wouldn’t be in this mess right now. Rory would still be alive and would still be the same cowardly idiot. He would very likely have left Lydia’s life and moved on to some other poor victim. There was no chance that he would have carried on trying to deceive Lydia, not after everything that Betelgeuse had done to expose him.

But instead, Rory was a powerful ghost, and Delores had transformed into a dangerous spirit who devoured innocent ghosts.

All because of him.

And as Betelgeuse stood there, staring at the note containing the incantation that had enabled Rory to begin the process of switching places with Lydia and being free to walk the living world again, he found himself thinking back to when Lydia had kissed him.

When her lips had fiercely met his, Betelgeuse had frozen, unable to believe that she was willingly kissing him. Their passionate encounter had been the best moment in his entire life and death.

And now she was being taken away from him.

It all felt so cruel.

If only he had tried harder to make her believe him, to make her see that Rory had been possessing Robert the whole time. Lydia was stubborn, there was no doubt about it, but he should have tried harder. She was vulnerable, and that raw vulnerability had allowed her to be easily manipulated.

He should have tried to find a way to get rid of Rory sooner.

And now Lydia was gone, very likely already on the Soul Train being taken to her final destination.

“I’ve lost her,” Betelgeuse said, finally breaking the silence that had been hanging in the air. “I’ve fuckin’ lost her.”

He put his head in his hands and felt Wolf pat his shoulder.

“There’s still time,” the head of the Afterlife Crime Unit said. “You still have time to save her, Geuse. You need to get down there right away. Stop him from getting his passport stamped.”

“I’m coming with you!” said Astrid, but Wolf held a hand up to stop her from moving towards the chalk-drawn door, which was still open. Beams of green light were emanating from the room behind it.

“I’m afraid you will need to stay here,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”

But Astrid shook her head fiercely, and when she spoke, her voice was shaky.

“My mom went down there to save me, and I need to do the same for her. I can’t let her suffer the fate that I almost had.”

“There’s no suffering in The Great Beyond!” said one of the Ghost Squad’s remaining members, a dreamy look in his eyes. “It’s heaven.”

“And it’s hell for the loved ones who are left behind,” said Wolf. “It’s not Miss Deetz’s time yet. Her life has been cruelly taken by this Rory guy. We need to stop him.”

“And what if I can’t?” said Betelgeuse, staring at Wolf. “What if I’m too late and the fucker has already got it stamped?”

“Then…there’s nothing we can do…”

Wolf’s voice trailed off, and he sighed heavily before speaking again.

“The only way we can stop him is by making sure that passport doesn’t get stamped. We need to try and find a way to destroy him permanently. But we also need to get Miss Deetz off that train. Once someone is on it, there’s no going back. The only way to get her off would be to stop it. And as far as I know, that’s impossible.”

Betelgeuse ran a hand over his face, and Wolf patted his shoulder again.

“The only thing you can do is try, Geuse. Try as hard as you can to save her.”

“I’m going,” said Astrid. “I don’t care how dangerous it is, I have to try and help save my mom. If there’s more than one of us, then we can try and find her. I can try and get her off the train while you stop Rory.”

Betelgeuse looked at Astrid, then at Wolf, impatiently waiting for his response. The head of the Afterlife Crime Unit sighed heavily and nodded.

“Fine,” he said. “This Rory fella is already breaking the afterlife’s laws, and we’re hoping to send him to the Fires of Damnation when we catch him, so I suppose it won’t matter if a code 699 violation is added to his list of crimes.”

“Then let’s get the fuck down there and save Lydia,” said Betelgeuse,

The group moved towards the door and walked through it, disappearing into the green light.

***

Lydia panted as Robert pulled her through the afterlife’s corridors, their shoes clicking loudly on the black and white tiles. She asked him where they were going, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to drag her along, muttering quietly to himself.

“Robert, do you even know where we’re going?”

“Almost there,” he finally said.

They reached a door at the end of the corridor, and Robert suddenly tugged on Lydia’s coat and pushed her through it.

The room was dark, and the stench of death and decay hung in the air. Lydia heard Robert close the door behind him, and then there was a clicking sound. The lights came on, and Lydia saw that they were in a storeroom.

“What are we doing in here?” she asked, looking around at the boxes and buckets that surrounded them and frowning. “We’re wasting time!”

“Oh, I’m definitely not wasting time,” said Robert, moving in front of her and grinning. “You see, this is the first part of the process.”

“What process? You mean the process of destroying the Ghost Eater?”

“No, Lydia. I mean the process of me being free to walk the living.”

Lydia stared at him, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

Robert continued to smile and moved closer to her.

“I needed a place to dump my puppet.”

Lydia continued to stare at him. She had no clue what he was talking about, but her heart rate suddenly started to quicken as a feeling of dread washed over her.

“Robert…what…what are you talking about?”

Robert was silent and continued to study her.

“You know, Lydia, I never thought it would be so…so easy. Especially when your ghost friend ruined it for me the first time. But here we are, a couple of months later. I’ve finally achieved my goal!”

He held his arms out, and Lydia simply stared at him.

 “Robert, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Robert let out a booming laugh.

“Of course you don’t. And that’s what’s made it so easy. So fucking easy to get you right where I want you. Jesus, Lydia.”

He shook his head and then laughed.

“I meant what I said, I really did hit the codependent lottery when I met you…”

His voice trailed off, and Lydia studied him hard, her breathing starting to quicken as she thought back to Rory’s words that night in the church on Halloween, when he revealed his true intentions.

“I just went to that survivor's retreat so that I could meet weak women and exploit them! And I hit the codependent lottery when I met you.”

As she thought of those words, she stared hard into Robert’s eyes and realised that Betelgeuse had been right.

And at the same time as that realisation hit her, Robert’s body became floppy, and she watched through wide eyes as the ghost of her ex-fiancé seeped out of the producer’s mouth and appeared in front of her.

And suddenly, it all made sense.

Visions of various moments from the past couple of months flashed through Lydia’s head.

That very first meeting when she had first started noticing that Robert was behaving strangely…

Him trying to make her believe that she had gained weight by giving her a dress that was far too small for her…

His behaviour at the celebration party…

His mistake of saying that she and Robert had seen Dr. Glickman together…

That frightening encounter in the studio when he had uttered those words to her…

“Because when you’re feeling like this, it just makes me feel what you’re feeling.”

Lydia hadn’t thought much about it at the time, but she now realised that they were the same words that Rory had spoken to her when she had seen Betelgeuse in the audience eating popcorn, and her pills had been thrown in the trash.

Weeks of manipulation, of trying to make her believe that she was going crazy.

Lydia thought back to Ghost Con and how he had tried to make her feel guilty for going to it, despite him being the one who had told her to go.

And finally, she thought of those dark eyes and the visions that she had had of his face.

“That grimy ghost tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen,” said Rory, shaking his head in mock concern. “And now the poor guy is probably permanently dead.”

Lydia stared at the body of poor Robert Forrester, who had been Rory’s puppet for months. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought about Betelgeuse going to Silverstone Manor, believing that she was there.

He had been trying to save her, just like he always had done.

Lydia closed her eyes, waves of nausea running through her. How could she be so stupid? After everything that Rory had done to her, she had allowed herself to be manipulated again. Why hadn’t she listened to Betelgeuse? He had known about Rory’s intentions the first time and had tried so hard to warn her throughout her ex-fiancé’s attempt to deceive her a second time, but she had pushed him away. She had brushed it off.

She had refused to listen to him.

And now Betelgeuse was very likely gone forever, because of her.

Lydia let out a howl of pain and dropped to her knees beside Robert’s body.

This was all her fault. If only she had seen all the signs earlier…

Not only was Betelgeuse in grave danger and possibly already permanently dead, but Robert was also close to death. Lydia reached out and touched his hand, which now felt warm. But his skin was still a sickly grey colour, and Lydia could see the toll that weeks of being possessed had taken on his body. Poor Robert had been an innocent person, caught up in all this mess.

Lydia continued to stare at him and let out a hollow laugh.

“Jeff didn’t spike my drink at the party, did he?” she asked, glaring up at Rory. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

Rory let out a bark of laughter.

“Of course it was.”

“Why?” asked Lydia, her voice strained. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I would have thought that the answer to that was obvious,” said Rory, moving closer to her. Lydia could feel the cool air emanating from his body.

“I want your money. And this time, I’m going to get it. As soon as I get my passport stamped, I’m out of here. And you…”

Lydia's eyes widened as she realised what he meant.

“You…I…the incantation…”

“Yep,” said Rory, smirking at her expression. “That little incantation that you read out caused us to switch places. I’m alive and you’re dead. Or you will be, when I’ve got this stamped…”

Lydia stared at the passport in his hand, and her thoughts immediately went to Jeremy Frazier.

She had been tricked, just like Astrid had. Only this time, there was no one to come to the rescue. Betelgeuse was gone, and Astrid wouldn’t be able to get into the afterlife. Lydia was well and truly alone.

All because of her own stupidity.

She had never felt so bad about herself as she did at that moment. She hated herself, hated the fact that she had been tricked again. She had done the very thing that she had been determined to avoid in the aftermath of Rory revealing his true intentions in that church. She had allowed herself to be manipulated again. She had been used to help Ghost House boost its popularity, and now Rory was going to reap the rewards. He was going to benefit from her hard work. And all those hard assignments would never have been possible to complete without Betelgeuse’s help.

Lydia suddenly felt a rush of anger and lunged at Rory. The ghost’s eyes widened in surprise, and he stumbled as she crashed into him, but quickly recovered and grabbed her.

“Listen to me, you pathetic bitch,” he growled in her ear. “You’re not even going to try and stop me this time. This time, Betelgeuse isn’t here to save you. No one is here to save you.”

“Please,” cried Lydia, struggling against his firm grip. “Please don’t do this. Think of Astrid.”

Rory threw his head back and laughed.

“You really think I care about that little brat?” he snarled. “To be honest, she’s better off without a pathetic, weak mother like you. Let’s face it, if you hadn’t have been so fucking stupid the first time, she wouldn’t have been tricked by that boy.”

Lydia started to sob as she took in Rory’s words.

“You’ve always been so easy to manipulate,” he snarled, his cold breath hitting her cheek. “Getting you to agree to marry me at your dad’s wake was so easy, and Astrid went off in a huff because you said yes to me. It’s your fault, Lydia. It’s your fault she went off and met that Jeremy boy. If it wasn’t for your stupidity and weakness, she would have been safe, and my plan of marrying you and taking your money would have gone ahead without any interruptions from that grimy ancient ghost.”

Lydia tried to get away from him, not wanting to hear any more of his cruel words, but Rory’s grip on her arms remained firm.

“But nevermind. Thanks to that weakness, I get to walk free, and you will be taken to the Great Beyond, where you will be alone forever.”

“I…”

Lydia tried to speak, but she was too exhausted and worn down by Rory’s words.

“Time for me to get this passport stamped, and you’ve got a train to catch.”

Lydia tried to move out of his grasp, but she quickly realised that Rory was no ordinary ghost. His powers matched Betelgeuse’s, and within seconds, he had teleported them both to the Immigration booths.

***

Betelgeuse materialised near the Immigration booths and within seconds, was facing one of the biggest dilemmas of his life and afterlife.

To his right, Rory was lining up to get his passport stamped. To his left, Lydia was being marched off in the direction of the Soul Train by two officers.

He stood there rooted to the spot and moments later, felt a hard tap on his shoulder. He jumped, and Wolf appeared beside him, along with Astrid and the two remaining squad members.

“You need to stop him, Geuse! But don't make any sudden movements. We need to take a tactical approach, no dramatic movements...”

But Betelgeuse wasn't listening.

“Lydia…” he breathed, looking longingly in the direction where the love of his afterlife was being taken.

“I’ll go after Mom!” shouted Astrid, running in the direction of where Lydia was being taken away by the tall officers.

“Boys, accompany Astrid to the platform. I’ll stay here with Geuse.”

The two tall ghosts nodded and hurried off behind Astrid.

“I could send him to hell,” growled Betelgeuse, watching Rory through narrowed eyes. “Just like I did with that fucker Jeremy. I could do it right now.”

But Wolf shook his head.

“He’s far more powerful than Jeremy, Geuse. We’re planning to send him there eventually, but we need to be quiet and careful. Lure him in slowly. Any sudden movements could…”

But Wolf never got to finish his sentence.

Watching Rory grinning down at his passport had caused a surge of anger within Betelgeuse, and before Wolf could stop him, he had rushed over to the large line of ghosts.

The sound of his fist smashing into Rory’s face was music to Betelgeuse’s ears, and he let out a satisfied smirk as black blood spurted from the ghost’s mouth.

His punch caused a domino effect, and Rory went crashing backwards into the ghost behind him, who in turn fell into the ghost behind him and so on. A massive fight broke out, and shouts, screams and words of profanity filled the Immigration area. Tall officers ran around, trying to prise ghosts off each other.

Betelgeuse pinned Rory to the floor and pressed his combat boot hard into the ghost’s chest.

“Well, fuckface, looks like you ain’t gonna get that passport stamped after all.”

“Get off me you piece of shit,” snarled Rory.

The two ghosts rolled around on the floor, bumping into other ghosts who were hitting each other. Betelgeuse let out a cry of pain as Rory’s hard fist collided with his lip, splitting it and causing black blood to pour from his mouth.

“You’re forgetting something,” Rory growled, moving his mouth close to Betelgeuse’s ear. “I can teleport.”

He disappeared from underneath Betelgeuse, but the ghost remained calm and smirked. Seconds later, he disappeared and reappeared next to where Rory had materialised.

“You’re forgettin’ somethin',” Betelgeuse growled in his ear. “So can I.”

He reached down and tried to grab the passport, but Rory punched him again and disappeared.

“Fuck!” shouted Betelgeuse in frustration.

They continued like that for at least another fifteen minutes, disappearing and then materialising in different parts of the Immigration department, while ghosts continued to fight all around them.

“Hurry up and get the passport, Geuse!” shouted Wolf, who was trying to help two burly officers separate two ghosts who were swinging their fists at each other. “This is fucking chaos!”

“Ya know how much I love chaos, Wolf!” shouted Betelgeuse, before letting out a bark of laughter and reappearing next to Rory.

But his laughter quickly died as Rory’s hard fist connected with his face, this time hitting his already broken nose.

“Fuck!” shouted Betelgeuse, clutching his nose.

“You’ll never catch me!” said Rory, disappearing and materialising next to the booth, where an Immigration Officer was rolling their eyes at the chaos and waiting impatiently to stamp someone’s passport.

And Betelgeuse realised, as he quickly appeared next to Rory and pulled him backwards, that stopping him was going to be far more difficult than he had realised.

The only way to solve this, would be to destroy this fucker permanently.

And Wolf was right. Getting him to stay on top of that trapdoor, in a position where he could be sent straight to the Fires of Damnation, was going to be far too hard.

There was only one other way he could get rid of Rory forever…

He took a deep breath and, with all his power, teleported them both to Silverstone Manor, where a very hungry Ghost Eater was waiting for her next meal.

***

The sound of soul music pounded in Lydia’s ears, and she started to sweat as the officers forced her past dozens of dancing ghosts on the platform.

She began to feel dizzy and tried to catch her breath as the large crowds engulfed her. The music, the lights and the soulful dancing ghosts surrounding her quickly became too much, and she collapsed to the ground.

“Please,” she panted, pleading with the tall officers, but they didn’t listen. Lydia wasn’t sure if Rory’s passport had been stamped yet, but she had a feeling that these officers didn’t care. They were determined to throw her on the Soul Train.

And throw her they did.

Lydia fell straight through the doors of the train, and she felt herself being pulled into the carriage by surprisingly soft hands. She looked up and saw a kind-faced ghost woman staring back at her.

“Those officers can be a bit rough, can’t they?” she asked, chuckling as she helped Lydia up off the floor of the carriage.

“I need to get off!” Lydia said, turning around and trying to get off the train, but it was no good. Dozens of ghosts were boarding the train, and by the time the crowd had dispersed into different compartments, the doors had shut. Lydia frantically tried to open them, but they wouldn’t budge. Several ghosts were watching her with interest, and Lydia rushed past them, quickly moving through the different compartments.

And as she looked out of one of the windows, her heart almost stopped.

Astrid was standing there on the platform, looking frantic. She was flanked by two tall ghosts, who were both wearing mournful expressions.

Lydia placed her hands on the window and began hitting it, her fists clashing painfully with the thick glass.

“Astrid! Astrid!” she shouted, earning disapproving looks from the rest of the ghosts in the compartment, who were trying to settle down for their peaceful final journey.

But Astrid didn’t notice her.

And Lydia could only watch in devastation as the Soul Train began its journey, and her daughter disappeared out of sight.

***

Rory continued his game of appearing and reappearing when they arrived at the manor and Betelgeuse, now growing impatient, realised that he had no choice but to put himself at risk to get the pony-tailed fucker right where he wanted him.

“Hey Rory!” he shouted as he walked into the living room, his arms spread wide. “Guess where I am?”

There was no answer, and the only sound was Delores’s low growl, which was coming from the corner of the room. Betelgeuse watched as she slowly shuffled into the moonlight that was pouring through the broken windows, large particles of dust dancing around her large frame.

“This is somethin’ you don’t wanna miss, Rory!” Betelgeuse shouted, gesturing for Delores to move closer to him. “You got rid of your ex, and now you can watch Delores get rid of hers!”

The ghost watched, still grinning, as Rory appeared in the room in a puff of black smoke.

“You would never feed yourself to her,” he said, looking Betelgeuse up and down in disgust. “You’re far too self-absorbed. I remember you saying, in that church, that Lydia agreed to marry you so that you would save Astrid. Even you helping her with her assignments was for your own gain. Even if you do love Lydia, you’re still a selfish, grimy piece of shit and you would never kill yourself for my entertainment. You can’t fool me.”

Betelgeuse didn’t respond and instead moved so close to Delores that he could feel her cool breath on his face. She growled in his ear.

“We’ll see, won’t we, honey, said Betelgeuse, wiggling his eyebrows at Delores, who growled hungrily in response.

“This gal is real hungry, Rory. Hey, do you remember that time when you and Lydia first met and you went for that meal at that fancy restaurant? You leaned in and said in her ear, in a suggestive tone, that you wanted to skip straight to dessert?”

Rory frowned.

“How do you know about…”

“Psychic connection,” said Betelgeuse, tapping his head. “Ya see, Rory, I watched every moment that you and Lydia shared. Well, almost every moment. I gave ya a little bit of privacy during the intimate moments, but I could tell that Lydia wasn’t satisfied, if you know what I mean…”

His grin widened, and Rory clenched his fists.

“You’re a fucking stalker,” he growled. “No wonder Lydia took pills.”

Betelgeuse laughed and shook his head.

“No, she took pills because of you, you controlling manipulative fucker. Anyway, let’s go back to that night at that restaurant, not long after you met Lydia at that retreat. Back to that moment, when you leaned in and told her, in that husky lust-filled voice, that you wanted to move straight onto dessert…”

“What about it?” growled Rory, his arms still folded.

“Well, I was thinkin’ that we could do that right now. Ya know, skip the main course and go straight to dessert…”

“And who is the dessert?” sniggered Rory. “You?”

“No, Rory. I’m the main course…”

Delores’s sharp teeth were inches from his neck now, and Betelgeuse could see that she was waiting to lunge. He backed off, creating a little more space between himself and his ex-wife.

“You,” he said to Rory, right at the moment when Delores pounced, “…are the dessert. Later, Fucker.”

He quickly stepped aside, and Delores missed her target, her teeth sinking into Rory’s head. Betelgeuse watched with delight as his ex-wife completely consumed Lydia’s ex-fiancé, destroying him and his unstamped passport forever.

And as he quickly teleported away from the manor, Betelgeuse missed the aftermath of Delores's meal. He didn’t get to see his ex-wife’s howls of pain after she had consumed Rory, because Betelgeuse was unaware that by giving Rory that t-shirt in the church and offering him up as a soulmate to her, he had unknowingly caused them to form a bond in the sandworm’s stomach.

Delores had made Rory her soulmate, and by accidentally consuming him, she had now been destroyed forever.

And although he had gotten rid of Delores and Rory, he still had one more thing left to do.

He had to stop that train.

Chapter Text

Betelgeuse had always loved chaos, but the dancing ghosts on the platform were too much, even for him. He materialised right in the middle of it all and grunted in frustration as he tried to move through the crowds. He spotted Astrid sitting down on a bench away from the chaos. The teenager had her head in her hands, and the two Ghost Squad members sat on either side of her, both looking as though they were trying to console her.

Betelgeuse felt a hard tap on his shoulder and spun round, coming face to face with Wolf, who was clutching a cup of coffee.

“What are you waiting for, Geuse? Go get Miss Deetz off that train!”

Betelgeuse didn’t respond. He was usually confident when it came to helping people. He always wore a huge grin whenever he used his powers and took pride in his work. But right now, that confidence was missing.

And when he finally spoke, his voice was strained.

“I’m too late,” he said. “Ain’t no way I can get her off it.”

Wolf sighed, set his cup down on the floor and placed his hands on Betelgeuse’s shoulders. He looked him in the eye, and when he spoke, his tone was firm.

“Listen to me, Geuse. You’re a goddamn pain in my ass, there’s no doubt about it. But if there’s one good thing I can say about you, it’s that you never give up easily. You always fight for what you want. And I know that you want Miss Deetz. You love her, don’t you?”

“More than anything,” Betelgeuse replied. “But –”

Wolf held a hand up to silence him.

“Then go get her. Go get your fleshbag. And I don’t wanna see you back on this platform without her.”

Betelgeuse studied the Head of the Afterlife Crime Unit for a few moments, then smiled.

“You’re a good man, Wolf,” he said.

“I know I am. Now get the hell outta here.”

“I will. But first I just need to, er…”

He nodded at Astrid, and Wolf’s eyes travelled to where the distraught teenager was sitting. He nodded in understanding and picked up his coffee cup before gesturing for Betelgeuse to say whatever it was he needed to say to her.

“She’s gone,” sobbed Astrid as they approached her, her voice full of pain. “I should have pulled her off that train like she did to me. She’s gone…”

Betelgeuse knelt down, gently took her hands in his and spoke.

“Listen to me,” he said. “I’m gonna try my best to get her back, ok?”

Astrid sniffled and looked down at him.

“And what if you can’t?”

Usually, Betelgeuse would be angry at anyone who doubted his abilities. But this time, he couldn’t blame Astrid for doing so. As far as he knew, it was impossible to get anyone off Soul Train once it had begun its journey.

But he couldn’t bring himself to be honest with Astrid, to tell her that he very likely wouldn’t be able to save Lydia. And so, he tried to be positive.

“I’ll do my best, kid.”

He was about to get up and walk away when he felt himself being pulled into a hug. Betelgeuse stiffened as Astrid clung to him, and he knew that the teenager’s grief had played a huge part in the sudden affectionate gesture. She would never have hugged him willingly if she hadn’t been so distraught.

Betelgeuse patted her back awkwardly, but as he did so, he felt a sudden rush of affection for the girl. She was Lydia’s flesh and blood, and because of that, Betelgeuse cared about her. Anything that was a part of Lydia was precious to him.

“She loves you,” Astrid said, her words muffled against his jacket. “She needs you. Please don’t let her go into the Great Beyond alone.”

Betelgeuse sighed into her hair and gently pushed her away, before clearing his throat.

“No need for us to get all sentimental just yet,” he chuckled, trying hard not to show how emotional he was feeling. “I’ll do my best to bring her back.”

And before any of them could respond, he disappeared, leaving behind a trail of green smoke that whirled around the crowds of ghosts as they danced.

***

Lydia sat in the packed compartment, her head resting against the window. She watched the dark tunnels of the afterlife pass by the windows, unable to feel anything.

She was numb with grief.

She felt empty, yet full of pain. And as she sat there, listening to the dead people surrounding her talking excitedly about finally being able to take their journey to the Great Beyond, Lydia realised that she had never had the chance to tell Betelgeuse how she felt about him.

She had never told him that she loved him.

She hadn’t been able to say goodbye to Astrid.

Lydia closed her eyes as she thought back to their strained relationship. She thought back to the time when she had caught a glimpse of Astrid’s contact list, when she had seen her phone number listed under the name “Alleged Mom.”

The label had hurt Lydia deeply and had also made her realise that there were moments when she hadn’t been the mother that Astrid had needed her to be. Motherhood was hard, and Lydia couldn’t deny that she had struggled. But their relationship had been repaired, all thanks to Betelgeuse helping her to get into the afterlife.

Lydia thought back to that moment in the church when he had so easily allowed her to banish him back to the afterlife. And she realised, as she sat there, the only living person in a carriage full of ghosts, that if she had known about his tragic past, she never would have banished him so quickly.

She would have married him, allowed him to be free, if she could have.

But it was too late now.

She was heading to the Great Beyond, her life cruelly taken away from her by her manipulative ex-fiancé. She had wanted to prove that she couldn't be controlled by Rory anymore, and now here she was, sitting there on her final journey without her daughter. All because she had been weak and had been manipulated by Rory again.

Betelgeuse was very likely permanently dead, devoured by a Ghost Eater. And even if he wasn’t, he still wouldn’t be free, forced to remain in the afterlife after having his own life cruelly taken away from him by his deceitful ex-wife.

And Astrid was now going to have to spend the rest of her life without her mother

There were no winners in this situation.

It was all unbearably cruel.

And Lydia realised, at that moment, just how similar she and Betelgeuse were. They were cut from the same cloth.

She had been desperate to save the Maitlands, he had been desperate to get out. She had been desperate to save Astrid, he had been desperate to escape his ex-wife. She had needed help with her assignments, he had needed help with his bio-exorcist business.

They had both used each other for their own needs.

They were both strange and unusual.

She had never met anyone like him, and he had never met anyone like her.

They were…perfect for each other. Perfect as friends, perfect as lovers.

They were two broken people who had been used and tossed away by people who were supposed to love them. Both had been deceived, their vulnerabilities preyed upon.

And they had been brought together by unusual circumstances, had met each other because two people had died and needed Betelgeuse’s help to get Lydia’s family out of their house.

And Betelgeuse had never left.

He had been with her all through her life, secretly saving her.

Complicated history or not, he was the only person who had never given up on her.

There was nothing natural about their unusual relationship. The dead and the living should never be together. And yet…Lydia had never felt this way about any living man.

She let out a tiny noise of pain as she thought back to all the moments they had shared over the past couple of months. The movie sessions, the assignments, the party, the disastrous dinner date when he had intervened and given her the food and drink that Rory wouldn’t let her have and finally…that wonderful moment when she had acted on her feelings.

On the surface, he was chaotic, crude, loud, mischievous and downright annoying. But underneath it all, there was a softness, a surprisingly affectionate and romantic side that Lydia suspected had been buried to protect himself after his ex-wife’s deceit.

Lydia’s heart ached as she thought back to that moment in the church when he had given her his heart. The gesture had disgusted her at the time, but now that she thought about it, it was…kind of sweet. Throughout the whole sequence, he had looked at her with a ridiculously soft expression. She had been too bewildered at the time to think about it. And when she had thought about it in the days afterwards, she had felt irritated.

But now she would give anything to have him there with her, looking at that with that soft expression again.

She was missing him so much.

It was laughable, really. Unbelievable. Just months ago, she had wanted him out of her life. But, as always, they had ended up making yet another deal, and this time, Lydia had been given the opportunity to get to know him. And she had quickly become attracted to his personality and even the way he looked.

All the things about him that shouldn’t have been appealing suddenly were, and the fact that the attraction was forbidden because of her own rules that she had set for the deal had somehow made her feelings for him even stronger. Even though she had come to terms with her feelings, Lydia still couldn’t comprehend how that initial irritation had transformed into love.

She never thought it would end like this, with her sitting on a train being taken to her final destination while pining for the ghost who had been lurking around in her life for thirty-six years.

She brushed away some stray tears and sniffled. She had experienced heartbreak before, but nothing like this. She was so numb with grief that she could barely move.

A gentle tap on her shoulder pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Cheer up, dear, you’re on your way to the Great Beyond!”

With great difficulty, Lydia turned her head and came face to face with an elderly ghost woman.

“I’m not supposed to be on here,” she said, her voice strained.

The ghost woman let out a small laugh.

“Died too early, huh? That’s rough. I was lucky, had a long life and a decent death, too. But look on the bright side, you’re going to a wonderful place!”

Lydia turned away from the woman, not wanting to talk to anyone. But the ghost didn’t take the hint.

“I hear that they have nice houses and fields full of beautiful flowers,” the woman went on. “It’ll be amazing!”

Lydia let out a hollow laugh.

“Nothing is amazing about going into The Great Beyond when you don’t have the people you love with you,” she said bitterly.

“But dear, that’s just how it works. You meet up with the ones who went before you, and the ones you leave behind will meet you there eventually. It’s all about patience. Waiting for those moments when you’ll meet again.”

And as the woman’s words caused Lydia to think back to Betelgeuse using a Richard Marx song to tell her that he would always be waiting for her, she finally gave in to her emotions and started to sob.

She didn’t care that the compartment was packed. Right now, she was grieving. Grieving for the ghost she had fallen in love with and the daughter that she had left behind.

And as the elderly ghost woman pulled Lydia into her arms, Lydia let her comfort her.

She was so caught up in her emotions that she didn’t even notice when the carriage started to shake, a result of the ghost she was grieving for trying desperately to stop the train.

***

“Jesus!” growled Betelgeuse, as he whizzed past the train at an impossible speed, about to put his first plan into action. His special ghostly powers had enabled him to catch up with it, but stopping it was going to be a far more difficult task.

As he reached the front of the train, he threw himself in front of the window, his back pressing hard against it, his arms and legs becoming impossibly long.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, trying and failing to grab onto something on the wall that was whizzing past him, but it was no good. The train was moving too fast, and there was nothing for him to hold onto to enable him to stop it.

A loud honking sound filled his ears, and Betelgeuse let out a cry of pain at the sudden noise. His head slowly turned around while his body was still facing forward, and he watched as the ghost driver’s face slowly morphed into one of pure terror. It was moments like these that made Betelgeuse aware of just how different he was from other ghosts. If the situation hadn’t been so stressful, he would have laughed. The sight of him must have been terrifying.

He was standing there with his back completely blocking the driver’s view, his legs and arms still impossibly long, while his head was facing the window. He looked the driver directly in the eyes and mouthed frantically at him.

“Stop the train!”

“What?” shouted the driver, who was still looking terrified.

“Stop the fuckin’ train!” shouted Betelgeuse, flecks of spit escaping his mouth and hitting the window.

“I can’t! Now get out of the way, you’re blocking my view!”

Betelgeuse growled in response and turned his head back around. He tried to grab at something, anything on the wall, to help him slow down the train. But there was nothing. It was just one long, endless tunnel.

“It’s time like this that I wish I was a fuckin’ superhero instead,” he growled.

It was time to try out his second plan, which was to get inside the train and stop it. But as he tried to attempt this, Betelgeuse came to the horrifying realisation that he was unable to teleport. The route really was designed for a one-way journey only, which meant that no ghost, not even him, could get back to the platform. Once they were on the route, that was it, it was final.

If he went inside that train now, both he and Lydia would have no way of getting back.

“Fuck!” he growled, running a hand over his face as he thought of poor Astrid sitting there on the platform, expecting their return. He closed his eyes as he thought of the last words that she had spoken to him before he left.

“Please don’t let her go into the Great Beyond alone.”

He had to get to Lydia. Even if he couldn’t get her off the train, he couldn’t let her be alone.

There was no way he could fit through one of the windows. Betelgeuse let out another loud growl of frustration and moved to the front of the train again, this time hammering on the window so hard that it caused his fists to throb.

“Open the fuckin’ door and let me in!” he screamed at the driver, who now looked more frustrated than terrified.

“Get off! You’re blocking my view!”

“Open the doors!”

“It’s too dangerous!”

“Open the fuckin doors right now!”

The driver ignored him, instead trying to focus hard on his task of getting the ghosts to their final destination.

Betelgeuse’s lips curled up into a snarl.

“Time to get nasty,” he growled, and seconds later, he pulled a horrifying face. He couldn’t see the driver’s reaction – his view had been blocked by the wriggling tentacles that had burst from his face. But he could hear his screams.

Seconds later, the door to the driver’s compartment swung open and Betelgeuse, with great difficulty, quickly climbed inside.

“Good man,” he said, giving the driver, who was breathing hard and clutching his chest, a hard pat on the shoulder. “Now stop this fuckin’ train or I’ll do it again.”

The chances of getting back were damn near impossible, but Betelgeuse couldn’t bring himself to give up yet. The driver took a deep breath and slowly turned to glare at him.

“I’m not stopping it,” he said. “It’s my job to get those ghosts to their final place, and no one will stop me.”

“Listen, er, what’s yer name?”

“It’s on the tag,” growled the driver.

Betelgeuse’s gaze shifted to the driver’s name tag on his uniform.

“Listen Henry, pal, this train needs to be stopped, now. There’s a gal on here who’s still alive.”

“For god’s sake,” grumbled Henry, whose eyes were still fixed on the train track. “The hell is she doing down here if she’s still alive?”

“Long story,” said Betelgeuse, perching himself on the edge of the control panel.

“Careful with that!” barked Henry, nodding at the panel. “You might accidentally press something.”

Betelgeuse turned around and studied the buttons for a few moments, his mouth slowly curving up into a mischievous grin. Then, he reached forward and pressed a button. Seconds later, classical music filled the cabin.

“I told you not to press anything!”

“Might have to press somethin’ else, Henry, if you don’t do as I say and stop this train.”

“Move away from that panel right now!” Henry shouted as Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata began to blast out of the speakers.

“Stop the train or I’ll press somethin’ else.”

But Henry was stubborn and, as Betelgeuse discovered when he reached down to touch another button, surprisingly strong. He felt himself being pulled backwards, and for the next few moments, there was nothing but grunts as the ghosts rolled around on the floor, throwing punches at each other.

“Watch the nose,” shouted Betelgeuse, as Henry’s fist almost came into contact with the already injured body part.

“Get out of my cabin!” shouted the ghost, trying to push Betelgeuse off him. “You’re disrupting the journey!”

“Yeah, that’s the idea,” growled Betelgeuse, quickly moving towards the driver’s seat.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Henry lunged at him, but this time, Betelgeuse was prepared. He conjured up the same black and white punching glove that he had allowed Lydia to use to punch Rory in the church and sent Henry hurtling backwards into the wall opposite. The driver was immediately knocked out.

The glove immediately disappeared, and Betelgeuse hit the brakes as hard as he could, causing the train to come to a screeching halt.

***

Lydia and Elsie, the elderly ghost who had comforted her, both gasped as they felt the train come to a sudden stop.

“What’s going on?” shouted a disgruntled ghost sitting opposite them. “There had better not be any delays!”

“This isn’t good,” said Elsie, sounding worried.

Lydia, who was still numb with grief, remained silent. She was so tired, so damn tired. She quickly recovered from the train’s sudden halt and leaned back against the window, not caring if there was a delay. It made no difference to her.

She was being taken away from Astrid, and the journey was already incredibly painful. She didn’t care if all these ghosts had to wait a little longer to reach their destination. She was in no hurry to get to the Great Beyond.

Pachelbel’s Canon played over the speakers, and Lydia closed her eyes, wanting so badly to sleep. And, as an awful screeching sound emitted from the speakers and a familiar gravelly voice slowly drowned out the music, Lydia wondered if her body had finally given in to her exhaustion.

A sad smile formed on her face as she listened to Betelgeuse talking over the intercom. Even if he couldn’t be with her at that moment, at least she could still hear him in her dreams...

“Lydia, if you can hear me, come up to the driver’s compartment. And hurry up, I think this guy’s gonna wake up soon.”

Lydia hummed in response to hearing her name, still smiling at hearing Betelgeuse’s voice. She had always loved the way her name sounded on his lips…

She didn’t want the dream to end, didn’t want to stop hearing his voice…

“Lydia? Honey, if you can hear me, I need you to get your ass to the front of the train right now.”

Lydia let out a sleepy chuckle, enjoying her dream, but her laughter quickly died as she felt herself being prodded.

“You need to go up there!”

“What?” Lydia asked, her voice groggy. Betelgeuse’s voice emitted from the speaker again, this time sounding full of impatience.

“Honey, I know I said I’d always wait for ya, but I really need you to come up here.”

Lydia’s eyes slowly widened.

“Was I dreaming just then…or…”

She stared up at the speaker.

“No!” said Elsie. “You’re not dreaming. Whoever it is that’s in there wants to see you. Now, please go, dear, we’re all waiting to continue our journey.”

“Yeah, get a move on,” growled an impatient ghost who was sitting opposite Elsie.

Heart pounding and legs shaky from sitting down for so long, Lydia stumbled out of the carriage.

Betelgeuse continued to talk over Pachelbel’s Canon as she hurried past the other compartments, his gravelly voice contrasting with the soft music. Lydia followed it, still not quite able to believe that she wasn’t dreaming.

Was Betelgeuse really here? Had the ghost who had saved her so many times come to save her again? It didn’t feel real. Perhaps, Lydia thought, she had already reached the Great Beyond, and the heavenly location, where everything was supposed to be perfect, was playing tricks on her mind and making her believe that he was here.

But as she reached the driver’s compartment, Lydia quickly discovered that it wasn’t a dream. Nor were any tricks being played.

He was there, solid and real. Not permanently dead, as she had feared, but looking battered and bruised.

And Lydia flung herself into his arms.

***

They stayed like that for a few moments, clinging to each other.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Lydia finally breathed, still clutching him tightly.

“Come on, Lyds, you didn’t think I’d leave you on here and not try and save you, did you?” he said, running his hands through her hair.

“I thought you were permanently dead,” Lydia said, her voice muffled slightly by his jacket. “Robert…or should I say Rory…he told me you had gone to Silverstone Manor. I’m so sorry. I should have told you sooner that I quit Ghost House. I…”

“It’s fine, Lyds, I…”

Lydia brought a finger up to his lips to silence him.

“I’m so sorry for not listening to you. You tried to warn me about Rory, but I didn’t listen. The signs were all there and I missed them…again.”

She looked up at him, her heart almost melting at his soft expression.

“You always know, though, don't you? You’ve always been there…all this…all this is my fault.”

Betelgeuse gently removed her finger from his mouth and spoke.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice soft. “Remember when I told you that I spent years being angry at myself for what Delores did to me? Don’t be like me, Lyds. Don’t blame yourself.”

“But…but I put you in danger. Because of me, you went to Silverstone Manor and almost got eaten…”

Betelgeuse let out a loud laugh.

“Yeah,” he said. “Delores sure was hungry for me.”

Lydia frowned at his words, then, as she realised what he said, her eyes widened.

“What? The Ghost Eater was Delores?”

“You didn’t know?”

Lydia shook her head. Rory had told her that a Ghost Eater was living inside Silverstone Manor, but he had never mentioned that it was Delores.

“Turns out Rory wasn’t the only one who went through a transformation in that sandworm’s stomach.”

“Jesus,” muttered Lydia. “You’re hurt…”

She reached up and gently touched the injuries on his mouth and nose, where Rory had slammed his fist into the ghost’s face.

“I’ll be fine,” said Betelgeuse, gently running his fingers over hers. “Rory ain’t, though. He’s permanently dead.”

Lydia’s mouth hung open in shock.

“H-how…”

“Delores ate him. I offered myself up as a meal, then stepped outta the way when she lunged at me. Rory was in the firing line and seconds later…crunch! She was feasting on the fucker.”

Lydia almost collapsed from the news. Betelgeuse steadied her, and she felt a rush of relief. She was finally free. But her happiness was short-lived as she glanced at Betelgeuse, who was looking worried.

“Listen, Lyds, there’s something you need to know…”

Lydia’s smile slowly died as he gently guided her towards the empty driver’s seat where Henry had sat just moments ago. She sat down, and he kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his.

“We can’t go back,” he said softly.

“W-what?”

“I’ve managed to stop the train, but you won’t be able to get off it. Even I can’t get off it.”

“You mean…”

Betelgeuse nodded.

“There’s no way back. I’m so sorry, honey.”

Lydia’s breathing started to quicken, and she felt Betelgeuse tighten his grip on her hands.

“Astrid…”

“I’m sorry,” Betelgeuse said again. “I thought I might be able to teleport us back onto the platform, but I can’t. It’s one way only. Ain’t no way of gettin’ back.”

Lydia began to sob. Betelgeuse sighed and gently pulled her down off the chair and into his arms.

“W-why did you stop the train, if you knew we couldn’t get back?” Lydia asked, her face buried in his jacket.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I thought there might be a way to turn back if I stopped the train and looked at all the controls, but there ain’t.”

Lydia clung to him, and she felt him let out another heavy sigh.

“All this is my fault,” he said, after a few moments of silence. “If I hadn’t set that sandworm on Rory and Delores, none of this would’ve happened.”

Lydia pulled away from him and looked into his soft blue eyes.

“You’ve just told me not to blame myself,” she said softly. “So you shouldn’t be blaming yourself either. You weren’t to know that Rory and Delores would transform in there.”

“I should’ve suspected it, though. Mixing a living guy with a soul sucker. Delores had powers like my own. She wasn’t a regular ghost. I should’ve known what would happen.”

Lydia placed her head back on his chest.

“But you didn’t,” she said. “So don’t blame yourself.”

They sat there on the floor of the driver’s cabin for a few minutes, both savouring each other's touch.

“He’s gonna wake up soon,” said Betelgeuse, nodding at Henry. “We need to get outta here.”

But Lydia didn’t move. Instead, she continued to cry softly against his chest, her mind filled with visions of her daughter standing on the platform with a panicked expression on her face.

She felt Betelgeuse trying to move her, but she wouldn’t budge.

“Honey, I know this is tough, but we gotta go.”

Lydia shook her head, not wanting to move, not wanting the Soul Train to move again and take her further away from Astrid.

But moments later, Henry began to stir, and Lydia knew that she had no choice but to accept that the train would continue its journey.

***

It felt like hours had passed before the train finally reached its destination. Lydia had spent the remainder of the journey with her face buried in Betelgeuse’s jacket, breathing in his comforting scent to keep herself calm.

At one point, she had fallen asleep and had dreamed of Astrid trying to save her as she hung off the edge of a cliff. The teenager had been holding onto her hands tightly, trying desperately to pull her up. But her hands had slowly slid out of Astrid’s grip, and her daughter’s cries of grief had slowly grown fainter as Lydia fell further out of her reach.

Lydia had woken with a jolt before she hit the ground, and Betelgeuse had quickly soothed her, telling her that it was ok, that he was there. That he would always be there.

And Lydia had clung to him, consumed by grief but thankful for his presence.

The situation should have been perfect. Here she was, on the Soul Train, with the ghost she was in love with, about to go to the Great Beyond. It should have been the perfect ending for them both, even though she wasn’t dead yet.

But it wasn’t.

Astrid needed her, and Lydia realised, as she sat there, that everything she had put herself through, all the dangerous assignments she had undergone over the past couple of months, had been because of her daughter.

She had, of course, wanted to prove that she could take on those difficult assignments. Doing so had given her plenty of personal growth and had brought her and Betelgeuse closer together. But giving Astrid a secure future had been her main reason for continuing to work on Ghost House. Lydia couldn’t forget the rush of relief and happiness that she had felt when her daughter had told her that she didn’t need to put herself through it anymore, though.

And that evening, when Lydia had returned home from the studio after quitting the show, she had sat there, making plans for her and Astrid, wanting to make the most of the time she had left with her precious daughter.

And now there was no time left at all.

Lydia felt nauseous as she caught sight of two large gates out of the window. A man with a white suit and a receding hairline stood in front of the entrance, clutching a clipboard and looking a little flustered.

There was a ding, and Henry’s voice sounded over the intercom.

“We are now approaching the Great Beyond. Please exit the train and wait at the gates. Sorry for the delay.”

There was a click, and Spring, concerto no.1 of Vivaldi's The Four Seasons, started to play. The upbeat piece was perfect for those about to take their first steps into the Great Beyond. Betelgeuse scowled up at the speaker and stood up. 

"Wish I'd never pressed that fuckin' button," he muttered as he offered Lydia his hand.

But Lydia wasn’t paying attention. She was still staring at the gates, still sitting there in a cloud of grief.

Betelgeuse sighed and sat down next to her. He placed his arm around her and pulled her to him.

“Let’s wait until the others have got off, yeah? Gonna be chaotic.”

Lydia closed her eyes and leaned into him.

“I just want my baby,” she sobbed against him. “I want to see Astrid again.”

“I know, honey,” Betelgeuse said as he gently rubbed her back soothingly. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get you back to her.”

Lydia looked up at him, blinking back tears.

“The only thing that’s making this bearable right now is you being here with me,” she said, holding his hand tightly. “You always make everything bearable. Thank you. For everything. For helping me with my assignments and for getting rid of Rory, twice.”

Betelgeuse smiled down at her and pulled her closer to him.

“Hey,” he said. “I just realised that we both don’t have passports.”

“You need a passport to get into the Great Beyond?”

Betelgeuse nodded.

“You need a passport to get to most of the locations in the afterlife. Well, apart from the Fires of Damnation. Lyds, this might be a good thing…we might get turned away…fuck knows how we’ll get back, though…”

And as Lydia glanced up at the flustered man who was currently checking his clipboard, she hoped that somehow there would be a miracle.

That after weeks of somehow surviving all those dangerous assignments and escaping Rory’s clutches again, that luck would remain on her side and that there would somehow be a way for her to get back and be reunited with her daughter.

Chapter Text

The first thing that Lydia noticed about the Great Beyond was that it was considerably warmer than the other parts of the afterlife. The scenery beyond the huge gates was idyllic and bursting with colour. She glanced down at her black attire and then shifted her gaze to Betelgeuse’s black and white striped suit. They looked so out of place against the bright scenery, like two black roses in a bouquet of colourful tulips.

“Everything is so bright,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the colourful buildings in the distance. “I’m not sure if I like it.”

Betelgeuse chuckled and pulled her close to him.

“Want me to change it?”

He grinned and began to snap his fingers, but Lydia quickly grabbed his hand to stop him and shook her head. She smiled up at him, but that smile quickly died as she thought of Astrid on the platform, waiting for them to return.

“Astrid will be so scared,” she said, her voice cracking. “I…I just need to get back to her.”

“I know, honey,” said Betelgeuse, running a hand through her hair.

The crowd was moving slowly, and Lydia tried to catch a glimpse of what was happening at the front of the gates, but there were too many ghosts. Trying hard not to panic at the thought of not being able to get back to her daughter, Lydia grabbed Betelgeuse’s hand and took a few deep breaths. Then, she leaned into him and breathed in his scent.

“You really like sniffin’ me, don’t ya?” the ghost asked, sounding amused.

“Just doing the senses technique again,” Lydia said, closing her eyes as she buried her face in his chest. “It really helps me.”

She felt him lean down and brush a few stray hairs away from her face.

“Hey, I ain’t complainin’,” he growled into her ear. “Wanna taste?”

Up until now, Lydia had been numb with grief at being taken away from Astrid, but hearing Betelgeuse utter those words into her ear awakened something within her, and she immediately caught his lips with her own. She didn’t think she would ever grow tired of the taste of him. His icy tongue probed her hot mouth, and despite her depressed state, she suddenly felt light, as though she was walking on air. Here she was, kissing a six-hundred-year-old ghost, and he was making her feel more alive than any living man had ever done.

She felt happy and content, but the moment his lips left hers, the world came crashing down on her again, and all she could think about was their predicament. But she wasn’t alone. He was there with her, helping her through it, just like he had done with all those dangerous assignments.

She heard a sound of a match being lit and glanced up at him, watching as he placed a cigarette in his mouth.

“Can you do that here?”

“Honey, it’s the Great Beyond. We can do anythin’ we want.”

“Anything?”

“Well, maybe not anythin.’ But they ain’t gonna complain about small pleasures, are they? And smokin’ is definitely a pleasure of mine.”

Lydia watched in awe as he blew out a thick plume of smoke. She had seen people smoke many times throughout her life. But whenever Betelgeuse did it, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. The smoke danced in the air, swirling around in front of Lydia’s eyes, and she wondered for a moment if it was even real or just another part of Betelgeuse’s mysterious otherworldly powers.

“Are there rules here?” she asked, stealing another glance at the colourful buildings in the distance. They stood in neat rows, all pastels and perfection.

Betelgeuse nodded.

“No criminals, no murderers and no troublemakers. So, I’ll probably be sent straight back.”

He chuckled and took another drag of his cigarette.

“But you’re not a bad person,” Lydia said, reaching for his hand.

“I ain’t good either,” he said, shrugging.

Lydia couldn’t help but admire the raw, honest tone in his voice.

“You’ve done a lot of good things for me,” she said, running her fingers over the ring on his index finger. “You saved the Maitlands, saved Astrid. Got rid of Rory, twice.”

“Yeah, and I tried to get ya to marry me, twice.”

Lydia shrugged.

“You wanted out. I get it.”

“The first time I did, yeah. But the second…”

His nonchalant expression melted away, revealing a softness that melted Lydia’s heart. It was the same soft look that he had given her in the church when they had danced.

“I just wanted an excuse to woo ya, but hey, I get it. The six-hundred-year age gap was an issue for ya.”

He chuckled and flicked his cigarette away.

“Oh, I’m way over the age gap issue,” said Lydia, reaching up to kiss him. The taste of smoke and rain-soaked earth hit her tongue, and it was delicious.

His presence was the only thing that was stopping her from collapsing with grief. He was keeping her sane, keeping her calm. It was unbelievable, really. This ghost, whom she had once believed was the cause of her trauma, was now her medicine. He was helping her to stay focused and positive. He was her lifeline. And as they reached the front of the queue, Lydia felt more confident than she had when they had stepped off the train.

“Passports, please!” called the man at the gates, whose eyes were fixed on the clipboard in his hands.

“Sorry, er…”

Betelgeuse leaned down and stole a glance at the man’s name tag, which was pinned to his white suit.

“Sorry, Pete, we ain’t got ‘em.”

Pete pulled his glasses further down his nose, studying Lydia and Betelgeuse through pale blue eyes. He let out a heavy sigh.

“You have to have your passports to enter,” he said in a stern voice. “Surely you knew that?”

“Of course we did,” said Betelgeuse. “But these ain’t, er, normal circumstances. Ya see, my gal…she’s alive.”

He slung an arm casually around Lydia, who immediately blushed at him referring to her as his girl.

“She’s what now?”

“She’s alive.”

“My goodness!” said Pete, recoiling in horror at the sight of Lydia’s flushed face. “So she is! My oh my, this is terrible. She shouldn’t be here! It’s not her time! And what about you? You look dead. So you must have known that you needed a passport to get here!”

“Sure did. But I had to come here with Lydia because I couldn’t get her off the Soul Train. Long story.”

“What’s your name?”

“I can’t tell ya.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a secret,” said Betelgeuse, his mouth curving up into his signature lop-sided grin.

“I don’t have time for games,” Pete said, throwing Betelgeuse a warning look.

“I love games! Games are definitely my kinda thing.”

Lydia elbowed him hard.

“Cut it out,” she hissed, before rolling her eyes at him. “Pete, I’m really sorry, but…he’s right, it’s a long story. I need to get back to the living world.”

But Pete shook his head.

“You can’t,” he said.

Lydia’s face fell, and the pleasant, calming effect that Betelgeuse’s presence had had on her slowly started to melt away, leaving behind waves of nausea as the reality of the situation hit her.

“There must be a way,” she said, her voice shaky.

Pete sighed and quickly checked his clipboard.

“Well, you can get back to the afterlife and then try and find a way back to the living world from there, but there are no fast-tack routes. There are no doors that directly lead back to the living world.”

“So you’re saying there’s a chance we can get back to the afterlife?” Lydia asked, daring to feel hopeful.

Pete nodded.

“There is indeed. But I must warn you that it won’t be easy.”

Lydia glanced up at Betelgeuse with wide eyes.

“We can do it, Lyds. We got through all those assignments, didn’t we? So we can do this.”

The positive tone in his voice gave Lydia a sudden confidence boost.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” she told Pete, who looked less than happy at her words.

“I’m getting too old for this job,” he grumbled, pressing a button to open the large, pearl-coloured gates. “Go and wait inside the Arrivals Lounge. Someone will come to escort you to the exit.”

“How long will we have to wait?” Lydia asked, her mind drifting back to Astrid on the platform. “I need to get back to my daughter.”

“A while,” said Pete. “It’s very busy in there. Someone will be with you as soon as they can. And next time you come here, please remember your passports.”

Lydia responded with a quiet “thanks,” while Betelgeuse gave Pete a salute, and they walked through the gates, ready to take the journey to the Great Beyond’s Arrivals Lounge.

***

The walls of the Arrivals Lounge were painted a blinding white, causing Lydia to squint as they entered the room. Comfortable-looking seats lined the waiting area, and paintings that seemed oddly familiar to Lydia lined the bright walls. The weird art was strangely comforting, the only bit of eccentricity amongst the luxurious, normal-looking décor. And as they walked towards the seats and sat down, Lydia suddenly realised why the paintings seemed so familiar.

It was Delia’s art.

Heart thumping, Lydia quickly looked around, searching for a flash of red hair amongst the sea of ghosts.

Delia had boarded the Soul Train almost instantly after her death, which had stung Lydia. Her stepmother’s promise of returning to haunt her had helped to ease the loneliness that Lydia had feared she would feel after discovering Rory’s initial attempt to take all of her money. So when Delia had decided to go straight to the Great Beyond, Lydia had felt a stab of hurt.

She had lost her father and stepmother in such a short space of time, and as she sat there now, holding Betelgeuse’s hand, she couldn’t help but hope that she would get the chance to see them.

She didn’t have to wait long.

She heard Delia’s voice before she saw her, and Lydia’s mouth curved into a smirk as she slowly turned to where the older woman’s shrieks were coming from.

“Careful with that! That is a genuine Delia Deetz original! I want it right there, in that spot, where everyone can appreciate it.”

Lydia glanced at Betelgeuse, who was wearing a mischievous expression. Lydia rolled her eyes and held a finger to her mouth. But before she could stop him, he had got up out of his seat, closed the distance between himself and Delia and gave the woman a hard tap on the shoulder.

Lydia got up out of her seat and suddenly froze, wondering how on earth she was going to tell Delia the reason why she had ended up in the Great Beyond. She watched as Delia spun round and winced as her stepmother let out a loud shriek of horror as she came face to face with Betelgeuse.

“Do you always have to show up like that? And don’t stand so close. Ugh. I almost died again.”

“Good to see you too, Deels,” chuckled Betelgeuse.

Delia studied him for a few seconds, wrinkled her nose and then spoke.

“What are you doing here? Isn’t the Fires of Damnation more your kind of thing? You know, with you being nightmare material and all.”

“You know me so well,” the ghost replied, placing a hand over his heart. “Got someone here who will be pleased to see ya.”

He stepped aside, giving Delia a clear view of Lydia.

Lydia let out a small smile as Delia's eyes widened, and within seconds, she felt herself being pulled into a tight hug. Despite her stepmother being dead, Lydia could still smell the woman’s signature perfume, and she closed her eyes, finding comfort in the familiar scent.

“Oh, Lydia,” Delia breathed, running a gentle hand through Lydia’s hair. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story,” Lydia replied. “What are you doing in here? Why are you in the Arrivals Lounge? You came to the Great Beyond months ago.”

Delia pulled away from Lydia and threw her a wide, beaming smile. She turned around and dramatically gestured to the art on the walls.

“I made art galleries a thing here! They loved my work and agreed that I could open up a special gallery with art for all the new arrivals to the Great Beyond to enjoy! Isn’t that exciting?”

Lydia nodded as she glanced at the art on the walls.

“And I’ve got some sculptures in that room over there,” Delia added, pointing to a small shop that was nestled away in the corner of the room. “For people to buy! Isn’t it wonderful?”

Lydia nodded politely, thinking that most people in the Great Beyond probably wouldn’t want Delia’s morbid sculptures in their pastel-coloured homes. But she couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection for her stepmother. Those morbid sculptures were a part of who Delia was, and Lydia herself was no less strange and unusual. She would definitely be buying one of those sculptures to add a little darkness to her own pastel-coloured home when the time came for her to enter the Great Beyond for good. Perhaps several tins of black wall paint, too.

“You arrived at just the right time, Lydia, because today is my opening day! But I really need to know what you’re doing here. You didn’t finally give in to your morbid desire to enter the afterlife, did you?”

Lydia watched as Delia threw a suspicious look at Betelgeuse as though he were somehow responsible for Lydia being there.

“You didn’t make any more deals with him, did you?”

“You know me, I love makin’ deals, Deels,” Betelgeuse said, holding his arms out and grinning. “By the way, you can call me son…in law.”

Delia’s eyes widened in horror.

“You… please don’t tell me he asked you to marry him again?”

“Of course not,” Lydia said, elbowing Betelgeuse hard in the ribs. “We made a deal, but there weren’t any weddings.”

She rolled her eyes at him, and he sniggered.

“Would you stop?” she said, hitting him playfully.

“I’m just fuckin’ with ya, Deels. Me and Lyds ain’t married…yet.”

“So why on earth does he want me to call him 'son-in-law'?” asked Delia, her gaze shifting from Lydia to Betelgeuse.

Lydia took a deep breath and closed her eyes, wondering how on earth she was going to break the news that she and Betelgeuse had gone from business partners to friends to lovers within the space of a couple of months. Breaking the news that she was in love with the ghost who had previously terrorised the Deetz family wasn’t going to be easy.

“Why don’t we sit down?” she said, gesturing to one of the tables where dozens of ghosts were relaxing and drinking hot cups of coffee.

Delia nodded.

“The coffee here is so good. Oh, and there are a couple of other people who will be joining us. They very kindly agreed to come to the opening of my shop and gallery. I’m meeting them in a few minutes.”

“Who?”

“You’ll see,” said Delia, throwing Lydia a wide smile.

Lydia looked up at Betelgeuse, frowning, and the ghost shrugged.

They took their seats, and when the two ghosts whom Delia had said she was meeting with finally arrived, Lydia’s mouth hung open in shock.

***

A total of twenty minutes had passed since they had entered the Arrivals Lounge, but Lydia wasn't keeping track of the time anymore. Her grief over leaving Astrid was still there, but it was now clouded by feelings of pure joy as her eyes fell upon the two familiar figures in front of her. She felt Betelgeuse stiffen beside her, a sign that he was much less pleased to see the two ghosts who were currently looking just as shocked and amazed as Lydia was.

Lydia felt tears pricking her eyes as she looked up at Adam and Barbara Maitland, feeling an instant rush of affection for the two ghosts who had shown her so much love and care in her teenage and early adult years.

She quickly got out of her seat and threw her arms around them.

“Oh, Lydia,” breathed Barbara, holding her tightly.

“It’s so good to see you,” said Adam, patting her back gently. “Why are you here, though?”

“It’s a long story,” said Lydia, pulling away and glancing at Betelgeuse, who had moved away from them and had his hands in his trouser pockets.

“Adam…Babs,” he greeted, nodding at the young couple. An awkward silence hung in the air, and Lydia felt her heart break a little as she noticed Adam and Barbara staring disapprovingly at him.

Lydia reached down and grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The gesture caused Barbara to let out a small gasp.

“Lydia…what are you…why are you here? With him?”

She looked at Betelgeuse in disgust as she spoke the words, and Lydia ran her thumb gently over his hand. Barbara stepped closer to Betelgeuse, waving a finger at him.

“If you’ve hurt her, you pervert…”

“Barbara, it’s ok…he…he hasn’t hurt me. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“S’all my fault though, ain’t it?” said Betelgeuse. “The whole sandworm thing…me settin’ it on Rory and Delores…if I hadn’t..”

“Stop it,” said Lydia firmly. “Remember what we said about not blaming ourselves?”

“You shouldn’t be here with him, Lydia,” said Adam, stepping closer to Lydia and reaching his arm out protectively. “He’s a troublemaker. Not a good guy.”

“Didn’t hear ya complainin’ about me when I saved your asses,” grumbled Betelgeuse. “Didn’t even get a thank you. Instead, I got swallowed whole by a sandworm. Thanks for that, Babs.”

He spat out the last part of the sentence, his tone full of bitterness.

“You were trying to marry her, and she was a teenager,” said Barbara, her voice laced with disgust. “Just a child. And you…you were a nasty pervert. I haven’t forgotten what you did to me. Kissing me, looking up my dress. Lydia, you need to get away from him.”

She stood there with her arms folded, flanked by Adam, who looked equally disgusted at Betelgeuse’s presence.

“He’s not like that anymore,” said Lydia. She felt Betelgeuse try to let go of her hand, but she kept a firm hold on it. “I…”

She took a deep breath.

“He’s helped me so much since then. He saved Astrid, saved me from Rory…twice.”

“Twice?” piped up Delia, who was still sitting at the table. “What do you mean, twice? What’s happened?”

Lydia sighed.

“Like I said, it’s a long story. But I’ll make one part of that story as short as I can. He…”

She pointed at Betelgeuse, still stroking his fingers with her other hand.

“He saved me. We became friends and I…”

She looked up at him, her chest clenching painfully at his sad expression. And then she expressed the feelings that she thought she would never get the chance to express, when she had believed, back on the train, that he had been permanently destroyed.

“I love him.”

Silence followed her words, and Lydia watched, heart hammering hard against her chest, as Adam and Barbara’s expressions of disgust slowly morphed into ones of utter shock. She shifted her gaze to Delia, who had spat out a mouthful of coffee and was now staring at her with her mouth hanging wide open.

And finally, she looked up at Betelgeuse, whose expression was soft but full of surprise. Had he really not realised how strongly she felt about him? Lydia’s heart almost broke at the thought.

“When did that happen?” asked Delia, voice full of disbelief. “How did that happen?”

“Lydia, has he got you under some sort of spell?” asked Barbara, her face full of concern.

“I’m a ghost, Babs, not a fuckin’ wizard,” snapped Betelgeuse.

“It’s ok,” said Lydia softly, reaching up and touching his face, her heart still hammering at the tension that was hanging in the air. “I can explain to them.”

Betelgeuse looked down at her, his soft expression now carrying a slight tinge of sadness, and nodded.

“I’ll go wait over there,” he said, nodding at the rows of seats near the lounge’s entrance. And before Lydia could stop him, he walked away.

***

“A ghost eater? That’s…that’s crazy,” said Adam, staring at Lydia with wide eyes.

“I know,” said Lydia. “I didn’t even know that such a thing existed.”

“And it was his ex-wife? The woman who gatecrashed the wedding?” asked Delia.

Lydia nodded.

For the next half an hour, Lydia had answered dozens of questions. Adam, Barbara and Delia still couldn’t quite believe how Lydia had developed feelings for Betelgeuse, though. Lydia couldn’t blame them for not understanding it. She still didn’t fully understand herself how they had reached this point.

But they had. And Lydia wasn’t ashamed of her feelings. She loved him, and she had every reason to feel that way about him. He was crude, mischievous and did things for his own gain, but he had shown her nothing but care and patience throughout the whole time they had been working together. And as she told her story, as she explained all the things he had done for her, trying to protect her from Rory, helping her at the party, writing all those compliments on the forum, Adam and Barbara’s frostiness towards him slowly melted. Adam even sounded impressed when Lydia told him that Betelgeuse had his own bio-exorcist business.

The four of them glanced over at the ghost, who had moved from the seats near the lounge’s entrance and was now sitting on his own at a nearby table. Lydia felt sad as she watched him sitting there, surrounded by tables full of ghosts chatting away to their friends and family. It reminded her very much of how she used to feel at school, when she would sit alone during lunch while everyone else chatted to their friends. She wanted so badly to go over there and hug him, to let him know that he wasn’t alone, but she knew he wouldn’t want that. He was soft underneath that rough exterior, but he still had his pride.

He caught her eye, and Lydia gestured for him to come over. Slowly, he got out of his seat and approached them. Adam pulled out a chair, and Betelgeuse nodded at him and took it.

“We want to, er, apologise for how we were with you earlier,” he said, studying the ghost over the top of his glasses.

“We…we love Lydia, and we just worry about her, even though she’s not a kid anymore,” said Barbara, smiling at Lydia.

Betelgeuse held his hands up.

“’S’fine,” he said. “I get it. She’s someone worth worryin’ about.”

He smiled at Lydia, and she took his hand.

“So…so how far has this…relationship…gone?” Delia blurted out, noticing the affection between them both.

A short, awkward silence followed her words, which was broken by Barbara.

“I don’t think Lydia needs to share that part of the story with us, Delia,” she chuckled.

“But…but he’s dead and she’s…she’s alive…how does that even work?”

Delia’s gaze shifted between Betelgeuse and Lydia as her brows furrowed in confusion.

“A gentleman never tells,” said Betelgeuse, chuckling.

“You are definitely not a gentleman,” said Barbara. But her tone was now gentle and teasing, lacking the disgust that she had shown earlier.

There was a short silence, and then the group let out a collective chuckle.

“Can’t argue with that, Babs,” said Betelgeuse, throwing Barbara a wide grin before taking a large gulp of Lydia’s coffee and scratching his belly.

***

When they were finally escorted to the door where they would begin their journey back to the afterlife, Lydia was in much better spirits. They had parted on good terms, and Adam had even shaken Betelgeuse’s hand.

“Thanks…for everything you’ve done for her,” he had said, nodding respectfully at the ghost.

“Yes, thank you for saving her from that ghastly Rory again,” Delia had said.

Betelgeuse had nodded in response, pulling Lydia close to him.

And Lydia had felt lighter, almost bursting with happiness at their acceptance of hers and Betelgeuse’s relationship. But as they had all parted, the happiness had slowly melted away, leaving behind a sadness at not knowing when she would get to see Delia, Adam and Barbara again.

“Sorry for how they reacted to you,” she muttered as they stepped through the door.

“It’s fine, Lyds. Totally understandable. I’ve done a lotta shitty things. Like I said earlier, I ain’t a good guy.”

“You’re good to me,” said Lydia, smiling up at him.

He was about to respond, but a noise cut him off, and Lydia watched as his eyes widened in horror. And as her eyes fell upon the thing he was looking at, her mouth hung open in shock.

A giant sandworm, bigger than any of the ones Lydia had ever seen, was moving through the sea of sand in front of them. The door slammed shut behind them both, completely shutting them off from the safety of the Great Beyond and thrusting them forward into immediate danger.

“Fuckin’ sandworms,” growled Betelgeuse. “Take my hand, Lyds. We’re gonna have to run outta here. I still can’t teleport.”

Lydia was shaking as she took his hand in hers.

“What if we don’t make it?” she said, her voice strained. “What if I end up dying for real and can’t get back to Astrid?”

Betelgeuse looked down at her and then, very gently, he removed his hand from hers and took her face in his hands.

“Listen to me, Lyds. You’ve come so far. All those assignments, you got through ‘em. And I’m proud of ya.”

Lydia felt a pleasant warmth spread through her at his words. Finally, she was able to hear him giving her all the praise that he couldn’t give her when the contract had been in place.

“You’re smart, beautiful, and you’re strong. I know ya can do this.”

She flung her arms around him, and he immediately picked her up, wading through the sand as the sandworm’s screams filled their ears.

“And yet here you are, still trying to save me,” she murmured against his neck.

“I’ll always save you.”

“My ghost in shining armour.”

“Ain’t got any shinin’ armour. Just the black and white striped suit. But hey, got a couple of cockroaches right here in my pockets if ya ever get hungry.”

Lydia laughed against his neck, and that laugh slowly turned into a small scream as the sandworm moved dangerously close to them. It was terrifying, almost heart-stopping. And yet Lydia had never felt so alive. She was there, in Betelgeuse’s arms, being carried through a deep sea of sand, so close to danger. And it felt thrilling. Like walking on air. She had never felt so determined, so confident, so…free.

Free from Rory.

There was no fear this time, just pure exhilaration.

“I’m going to succeed,” she said into Betelgeuse’s neck. “I’m going to get home to my baby girl.”

The words were said with pure confidence, more confidence than she had ever felt during any of those dangerous assignments.

“Damn right you are,” said Betelgeuse, jumping over a dune with her still in his arms. He stumbled and almost dropped her, but Lydia laughed.

A second sandworm popped up, and then a third. But Lydia’s confidence and determination never faltered.

“Put me down,” she whispered into his ear.

“Lyds, there are three of ‘em. It’s dangerous.”

“I know.”

And she wriggled so much in his arms that he had no choice but to lower her onto the dunes, which felt soft and almost pleasant beneath her boots.

Then she took his hand.

And they ran.

Lydia let out a howl of laughter as the sandworms weaved in and out of the sand around them, pulling Betelgeuse, who looked less than pleased at their close proximity, along with her.

“I fuckin’ hate ‘em!” he shouted, as one moved particularly close to him. Lydia tugged him along and finally, after what felt like hours (it probably was), they reached a door. Lydia tugged it open and squealed in delight as Betelgeuse picked her up and carried her through it.

They were met with the sound of moans and cackles. Betelgeuse’s blue eyes widened as he took in the chaotic sight in front of him.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“What is this place?” Lydia asked, still breathing hard from the burst of adrenaline that she had felt while running from the sandworms.

“These are some of the poor fuckers who got stuck between the afterlife and the Great Beyond. They’ve been dumped here, forgotten about.”

“So they’re forgotten spirits?”

Betelgeuse nodded.

A glass bottle came flying at Lydia’s head, and Betelgeuse pulled her out of the way.

“And they’ve all been driven to insanity,” he said, as the bottle hit the wall behind them with a loud smash.

Buckets, pots, pans and other objects came flying in their direction, and Lydia let out a cry of pain as something hit her arm.

“Watch it!” growled Betelgeuse, waving his fist at a portly ghost with bulging eyes. The ghost blew a raspberry at him and then bounced off the walls while letting out a loud wail.

Lydia ducked as a heavy saucepan flew in her direction, and she felt Betelgeuse grab her hand as he tried to guide her through the chaos.

“How many more doors will there be?” she asked, trying to block out visions of Astrid still waiting for her on the platform.

“No idea,” shouted Betelgeuse as he elbowed his way past a large ghost dressed in party clothes.

It was wild, chaotic. Like several dangerous assignments rolled into one. And as Betelgeuse pulled her along, Lydia felt that rush of adrenaline again and managed to successfully dodge a glass jar that was hurled in her direction by a tall, thin ghost with wild eyes.

“So glad I didn’t fuckin’ end up like this,” she heard Betelgeuse say as they tried to push past the forgotten souls. “These poor fuckers are a pain in the ass but I can’t help but feel sorry for ‘em.”

“Isn’t there any way they can get to the Great Beyond, just past where those sandworms are?”

“Nope,” he replied, pulling Lydia underneath a table as a bucket came flying towards them. “Only way to get into the Great Beyond is on the Soul Train.”

“But it’s so near…” said Lydia, staring at the crazed ghosts in pity. “Couldn’t they just let them all through the door that we got escorted to?”

Betelgeuse shook his head.

“That’s a special exit for people like us who ain’t got their passports. They don’t let ghosts in through that door, especially ghosts like these.”

He nodded at the chaos that was unfolding in front of them. Lydia winced as she watched the ghosts floating around and wailing. The sight was haunting. She felt Betelgeuse take her hand again, and he pulled her from underneath the table. The next door was in sight, and they were so close…

But this time, Lydia wasn’t so lucky. A sharp object collided with her arm, the same arm that had been injured when she had let herself be possessed by the crazed demon that she had been angry at Betelgeuse for flirting with all those days ago. She cried out as she felt the object slice through her skin.

“Fuck!” muttered Betelgeuse, as he paused to examine the wound. But the moment they stopped, the portly ghost with the bulging eyes was upon them, the sound of its crazed laughter filling their ears.

“We have to keep runnin’!” said Betelgeuse, pulling Lydia away. Lydia hissed in pain, and then she felt herself being pulled up into his arms, and he bolted towards the door, ducking objects and trying to shield Lydia as best he could. He yanked the door open, and they stepped into the next room. He gently set Lydia down and slammed the door shut, and Lydia felt instant relief as the grating wails and screeches of the forgotten souls quickly faded away.

The room that they were standing in now was silent, and there was an eerie glow in the air. Betelgeuse gently took Lydia’s arm and examined the wound again.

“It’ll be fine,” Lydia said through gritted teeth. She watched as he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a black and white bandage.

“It needs some antiseptic,” she said, as he wrapped it around the cut.

He let out a low chuckle and shook his head.

“Sorry, honey, ya won’t find any antiseptic in these pockets, just bugs.”

“Ugh. How could I forget that I’m in a relationship with a grimy, six-hundred-year-old ghost?”

“Didn’t hear ya complainin’ about how grimy I was when you threw yerself at me and kissed me the other day,” he growled in her ear, before leaning forward to gently nip at her soft, warm skin.

Lydia closed her eyes and hummed in contentment.

“You love it,” he murmured in her ear.

“You’re right, I do.”

They looked at each other for a moment, and Lydia marvelled at how stunning his eyes looked under the eerie light that surrounded them.

“So, what is this room?” she asked, unable to tear her eyes away from his.

“This? This is just essence, babe. The leftovers of ghosts who once hung around here.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Don’t think so.”

Lydia stared at the ghostly swirls in wonderment, reaching out to touch them. Her fingers passed through the essence, the pearly-looking substance moving underneath her fingers as she touched it.

It was strangely beautiful, and Lydia suddenly felt emotional. She had, for so many years, communicated with dead people, and as Lydia watched the remains of the ghosts who had once been in the room floating around her, she suddenly felt a rush of affection and respect for those people. She glanced up at Betelgeuse, who was watching her fingers dancing through the swirls. Then, she reached up and touched his face, marvelling at how solid he felt in comparison with the translucent shapes that were moving around them. Despite him being dead, he had always seemed so real to her. So alive. So different to any other ghost.

“Wanna move towards the next door, babe?” he asked, chuckling awkwardly. Lydia knew that he wasn’t used to such affection. She doubted that anyone had ever touched him gently or so lovingly.

She gently took his hand, and this time, she was the one who guided him towards that next door. But just as she reached out to touch the handle, the peaceful atmosphere of the room suddenly disappeared.

The white swirls quickly started to blend, and an awful screeching sound filled the room.

“Oh shit,” muttered Betelgeuse, moving closer to the door.

“What’s happening?” Lydia asked, frowning as she stared at the larger shapes that were now moving in front of them.

“The fuckin’ essence is joining together. That’s gonna create one hell of a dangerous spirit. We need to get outta here. Now.”

Betelgeuse gestured for her to open the door, but before Lydia could touch the handle, a translucent hand grabbed her wrist.

She was pulled backwards, and Betelgeuse tried to catch her, but the ghost was pulled away from her and thrown backwards. Lydia watched in horror as he flew into the air and smashed into the wall opposite.

“Jesus,” groaned Betelgeuse, rubbing his back where it had collided with the wall. “Pete wasn’t lyin’ when he said it wouldn’t be easy gettin’ back.”

Lydia tried to reach him, dodging the now giant, growling shape as it tried to grab her. She reached out and, with great effort, pulled Betelgeuse to his feet. The ghost grunted, before trying to pick Lydia up and heading for the door, but the dangerous spirit that had formed from the mingling of dozens of ghosts’ essence reached her first, wrapping a thick, pearly hand around her foot.

Lydia was lifted off her feet and hoisted into the air. Moments later, she hit the hard floor with a painful thud. Betelgeuse let out a growl of frustration and flung himself on the large spirit’s back.

“Get to the door, Lyds!” he shouted, his fists pummelling the ghostly substance and causing it to wail. “Open it!”

Lydia winced as she pushed herself off the floor. Her ankle throbbed where she had landed on it, and it was difficult to walk. The initial confidence that she had felt when they had entered that first room with the sandworms was starting to wane. How many more doors would they have to go through before she reached Astrid?

She took a deep breath, determined to get through the final hurdle. To reach that finish line that she had been so determined to reach before she had decided to quit Ghost House. She pulled the door open and was almost blinded by the green light that burst out of it.

Betelgeuse let out a loud grunt behind her as he pushed himself off the screeching spirit and quickly ran towards the door. He pushed Lydia through it and slammed it shut behind them.

Lydia's eyes widened as the green light of the afterlife engulfed them, and she looked down at the floor, feeling a rush of happiness at the sight of the black and white tiles beneath their feet.

“We must be almost there,” she said.

But Betelgeuse shook his head.

“We’ve reached the main part of the afterlife, Lyds, but it’s like a fuckin’ maze. The good news is that I think all the dangerous parts are outta the way. But it could take a long time before we actually get back to the platform.”

And it did.

For what felt like hours, they turned corners, walked down corridors, and went through twists and turns. Lydia’s feet ached, and her ankle was still throbbing painfully. She glanced at the bandage that Betelgeuse had wrapped around her arm, which was now soaked with blood.

Finally, they turned a corner, and the immigration booths came into view. But by then, Lydia felt battered, bruised and defeated.

“We're almost there,” Betelgeuse said, leaning down and brushing her hair off her sweaty forehead.

Lydia almost collapsed with exhaustion, and she felt herself being lifted into his arms.

“You’re helping me again,” she said, almost slurring her words and resting her head on his chest. “I can do this. I can…I can…”

She felt him chuckle.

“I made a promise to help you over that finish line, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“We aren’t under contract anymore….”

“I know. And I'm fuckin' glad we ain't.”

She felt him place a soft kiss on her forehead and breathed in his scent, finally giving in and letting him help her get through that last hurdle.

And when they finally reached the platform, Astrid was still there, waiting for them. Betelgeuse gently set Lydia down, steadying her as she stumbled. The teenager was sleeping on the same bench that she had been sitting on when Betelgeuse had left her, a blanket covering her. Wolf and his squad members were guarding her, all clutching cups of coffee.

All the emotion that Lydia had been holding in to get through that journey back to her daughter was suddenly released, and she sobbed as she approached her. She leaned down and gently brushed some hair off Astrid’s face. Astrid’s eyes fluttered open, and she let out a cry of shock and delight, reaching up and throwing her arms around Lydia.

“I thought I’d lost you,” the teenager sobbed, as she clung to her.

“I’m right here, sweetie,” said Lydia, her voice cracking. “I’ll never leave you again.”

She looked up at Betelgeuse, Wolf and his two squad members over Astrid’s shoulder, smiling at how emotional each of the men looked at witnessing the reunion.

“You did good, Geuse,” said Wolf, his voice cracking as he patted the ghost on the shoulder. “Took you long enough, but you did good.”

Betelgeuse chuckled in response, before grabbing the head of the Afterlife Crime Unit’s coffee cup out of his hand and taking a huge gulp.

“Oh, and that ex-wife of yours? Permanently destroyed. I took some new Ghost Squad members to Silverstone Manor while you were gone and made a much quieter entrance this time. But she was dead. Looks like you did a good thing setting that sandworm on them both after all, Geuse. She made that Rory fella her soulmate, and because she accidentally ate him, she ended up destroying herself.”

Betelgeuse let out a low whistle and shook his head before letting out a loud laugh.

“Ya hear that, Lydia? Both of our toxic exes are gone forever.”

Lydia beamed at him over Astrid’s shoulder and sighed in contentment as she breathed in her daughter’s familiar scent.

She and Betelgeuse were finally free. They had reached that finish line together. He had stood by her, just like he had promised to do all those months ago, when they had first made the deal. And even though that deal had been broken, he had continued to stand by her. He had kept her safe.

Astrid was safe, she was safe. Everyone she cared about was safe…

Lydia’s eyes suddenly shot open, and she let out a sharp intake of breath. Astrid immediately pulled away from her. Betelgeuse and Wolf had fallen silent and were staring at her, looks of concern plastered on their faces.

“Oh no,” Lydia breathed, bringing her hand up to her mouth.

“Mom, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Lyds?”

“Everything ok, Miss Deetz?”

Lydia was silent for a few seconds, her gaze shifting from Astrid to Betelgeuse and then to Wolf. And then, she spoke.

“Poor Robert is still in that storeroom!”

Chapter Text

The scent of cleaning agents mixed with other chemicals hit Lydia’s nostrils as she walked down the corridor towards the room where Robert Forrester was recovering from his ordeal of being possessed by Rory.

To her relief, he had been alive when Wolf and his team had gone to the afterlife’s storeroom to retrieve his body, but only just. His laboured breathing hadn’t given Lydia much hope, but by some miracle, he had survived. The door that Rory had drawn to the afterlife was still open, allowing Lydia, with the help of Betelgeuse, to bring Robert’s body back to the Ghost House studio, where they had immediately teleported to the hospital.

He had fallen unconscious upon arrival, and when he had eventually woken up, Lydia had gently explained what had happened to him. He had listened patiently as she explained that Rory, a guy who was supposed to have been one of his closest friends, had been possessing him, using him for weeks as part of his plan to get his hands on her money.

And when she had explained that Rory had been using his body to manipulate her, Robert’s face had fallen in horror. He had stared at her in shock as she told him about the celebration party, where poor Jeff had been fired after Rory had made her believe that he had slipped something in her drink. And he had looked sickened as she told him all the manipulative things that Rory had said and done.

When she had mentioned the Ghost House forum and how Rory, using Robert’s body, had said all those unpleasant things about her appearance, Robert had quietly pleaded with her to stop. He had no longer been able to stand listening to all the horrible things that Rory had used him for, to hear all the awful things that he had said and done to Lydia.

And now, as Lydia headed towards his room, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. For months, he had been Rory’s puppet. Lydia remembered the toll that being possessed had taken on her body. She couldn’t understand how Robert had managed to survive having Rory’s ghost controlling him for weeks. But he looked surprisingly refreshed as she pushed the door open and entered his room. He was hooked up to a drip, and there were various other bottles of medication lying on his bedside table. But he seemed upbeat for a guy who had just spent the past couple of months with a vicious spirit inside his body.

“Lydia!” he greeted warmly, his voice sounding a little hoarse. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Robert,” Lydia said. “I brought grapes.”

She smiled as she held up a bunch of Robert’s favourite fruit.

“Thanks, much appreciated.”

Lydia took the seat next to his bed, and Robert chuckled.

“Who’d have thought it, eh? All my life, I’ve been sceptical about ghosts, and here I am in a hospital bed after being possessed by one for weeks.”

Lydia smiled sadly at him.

“I’m sorry for ever doubting your ability to see ghosts, Lydia. Always thought you were an amazing presenter, though.”

She looked up at him, and he smiled warmly at her. It was strange seeing his warm brown eyes again, rather than the soulless black pupils she had looked into so many times when he was being possessed.

Despite not believing in ghosts and creating the show for entertainment purposes only, rather than out of any sort of respect for the dead, Robert had always been a warm and kind person. Any doubts that he had about Lydia’s ability to see the dead were never made too obvious, and he had always been respectful to her. He reminded her of Richard in many ways, always willing to listen and support her, despite not believing in the dead or the afterlife himself.

Even though the lack of belief in her ability could be frustrating at times, Lydia now realised that it was how a person reacted to her that mattered. Richard and Robert had doubted her abilities, but they had always been polite and never nasty about it, even though it had driven her and Richard apart in the end. They had never labelled her “weird” or “strange,” and it was rare to find people who were respectful like that.

And as Lydia sat there, she felt a rush of admiration for Robert. He didn’t seem angry or bitter about being possessed. But his sadness was palpable.

“I thought he was my friend, but he just saw me as someone he could use to get what he wanted, just like he did with you. I should have noticed the signs the first time around when he suggested the idea of becoming your manager, way before Halloween.”

Lydia reached for his hand and clutched it.

“I think he did a pretty good job at manipulating all of us,” she said. “I didn’t notice the first time or the second time. I’m just sorry that you had to go through this.”

Robert squeezed her hand.

“It’s not your fault,” he said softly. “You’re a good person, Lydia. Kind, gentle…rare. There aren’t many people like you. And even though I…even though I never believed in ghosts before, I never doubted your abilities as a presenter. And now that I’ve been through this…well, I think back to all those moments and the show, all the times I didn’t believe that there were any ghosts there and now it all…it all makes sense. I should have believed in your ability to see ghosts.”

“It's fine, Robert. Not many people do. I don’t expect them to.”

“I’m so sorry for what Rory did to you,” Robert said softly, still clutching her hand. “There were times when he would talk to me about you, how he didn’t agree with you taking pills and…and I wanted to argue with him. But he, he would always find a way to talk us into things. To convince the studio that he was good for the show. I believed him to start with, and I genuinely felt sad when he disappeared on Halloween…but now that I’ve been through this, I can see that he was mistreating you all along. The signs were all there before, but we were all blind to them. So please don’t ever blame yourself for any of Rory’s actions. And…thanks for saving me from that storeroom.”

Lydia smiled warmly at him.

“I couldn’t have done it without the help of my…”

Lydia hesitated. She and Betelgeuse were friends. That much was true. But now that their relationship had progressed into something more, she wasn’t sure what to call it. She loved him, there was no denying that anymore. And while it had been hard revealing that fact to Delia, Adam and Barbara, who were all dead, it was going to be far more difficult explaining it to a living person. How could anyone explain that they had developed feelings for a six-hundred-year-old ghost?

“Someone very special helped me,” she continued. “He helped me through nearly all of the dangerous assignments that I did while Rory was possessing you and…and we…”

“Let me guess,” said Robert, smiling at her. “He’s a ghost?”

Lydia nodded.

“He’s been helping me with Ghost House for years.”

“So he’s been getting the show viewers?”

“To start with, yes. But he wanted me to be safe, so he would make deals with the ghosts who were haunting the homes of the show’s guests and move pots and pans around. Rory called me, around the time he first started possessing you, and told me that Ghost House was losing viewers because they were becoming bored with the tame hauntings that I was investigating.”

“And that’s why the dangerous assignments happened?”

Lydia nodded.

“I made a deal with him…with the ghost who was secretly helping me for all those years. And he helped me with the risky assignments. He’s…he’s been so good to me and now…we’re…I fell for him.”

Silence followed Lydia’s words, and Robert’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I didn’t plan to,” Lydia said quickly. “Believe me, it was the last thing I expected to happen. But it did. And…and I’m glad it did. I wouldn’t change anything.”

She watched as Robert tilted his head and studied her for a few moments. Then, he spoke.

“He’s a very lucky guy…ghost.”

Lydia smiled and felt herself blush.

“Yeah,” came Betelgeuse’s gravelly voice from the doorway. “I sure am.”

***

Lydia smiled as they took a walk around a beautiful park near the hospital after her visit with Robert had ended. The sun was setting, and the flowers and trees were bathed in an orange glow.

For a guy who hadn’t previously believed in ghosts, Robert had seemed unfazed by Betelgeuse. Rory’s possession of him had completely eradicated any doubts that he had had about the dead and had left him with a newfound fascination with ghosts and the afterlife. It was the only good thing to come out of the situation.

“It’s amazing!” he had said, as Lydia had described all the assignments that she had undertaken with Betelgeuse’s help. “I mean, obviously it was risky for you, Lydia, but you….”

His gaze had shifted to Betelgeuse as his words trailed off.

“You, my friend, sound very impressive.”

Betelgeuse had merely grunted in response.

“How about a contract for you both? We can start making plans when I’m out of the hospital. And please don’t worry, I’ll let you both set your own terms and conditions. And you, Lydia, can wear whatever you want.”

He had smiled at Lydia as he said the words. Lydia had remained silent for a few moments before responding.

“That’s so kind of you, Robert, but…but I’d think it’s time for me to retire.”

Robert had looked disappointed but had taken her hand gently again, a gesture which Betelgeuse hadn’t looked happy about.

“I understand. It’ll be a huge loss to the show, but I respect your decision, Lydia. Please stop by the studio when I get out of here, though. I know it’s your choice to leave, but I’ll be giving you a very generous package to enjoy in your retirement.”

Lydia had almost snorted as she watched Betelgeuse eyeing Robert carefully – the ghost had clearly been looking for any sign of flirtation when Robert had uttered the words “generous package.”

“Thank you so much, Robert.”

“No, thank you, Lydia. You’ve been an asset to Ghost House. We all appreciate your hard work. And thank you again, to you both, for getting me out of that storeroom. And by the way, please don't feel bad for retiring. I'll make sure that Jeff is reinstated and we'll start looking for a new presenter. It's gonna take us a while to find someone as good as you...”

And now, as they walked through the park, Lydia was facing the wrath of Betelgeuse’s bad mood after the encounter with Robert. The ghost kicked at the ground as they walked, his face scrunched up into a scowl.

“I’m tellin’ ya,” he said, kicking a particularly large stone on the path. “He fuckin’ likes you.”

Lydia hit his arm playfully.

“He doesn’t! It’s not like that. Robert’s my friend.”

“He’s a very lucky guy…ghost,” said Betelgeuse, his voice sounding uncannily like Robert’s. “I’ll be giving you a very generous package…if that ain’t a crush, I don’t know what it is.”

“It really isn’t like that at all.”

Betelgeuse scoffed and continued to sulk and kick at the ground.

“You’re jealous,” Lydia teased, elbowing him. “I quite like it.”

“I ain’t jealous,” the ghost growled in response, pushing her elbow away. “I don’t do jealous. I ain’t that kinda guy.”

“Oh, you are so jealous. The big, bad, ancient poltergeist is worried that a living guy likes his girlfriend.”

“Watch your goddamn mouth, girly.”

“Why, what are you going to do? Your scary faces don’t scare me, nothing you can do will take me by surprise.”

Betelgeuse stopped walking and turned to face her, grinning wickedly.

“Oh yeah?”

Lydia nodded, arms folded, smirking at him.

He was on her in seconds. She squealed as he lifted her into his arms and headed straight for the bushes.

They didn’t emerge for at least another two hours.

***

“Congratulations, Geuse, you deserve it.”

Betelgeuse beamed as he stared at the shiny “Bio-exorcist Business of the Year” award on the wall of his office.

“Couldn’t have done it without my lead worker. George, get over here!”

George the skeleton shuffled over, his expressionless face somehow looking pleased. Betelgeuse patted him on the back.

“Great work, George!” said Wolf, holding up his coffee cup. “I gotta say, you’ve impressed me, Geuse. I think we can remove those code 699 punishments completely now.”

Betelgeuse grinned widely, displaying mossy teeth.

“And how’s it going with Miss Deetz? No plans for marriage again, I hope? I don’t wanna have to crash into any more churches.”

Betelgeuse chuckled.

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m happy with how things are.”

And he was. For so many years, he had wanted to get out of the afterlife, but now he felt content. All those years of hard work, of trying to keep Lydia safe and get her to notice him, had paid off, and he finally had his girl.

Hearing Lydia tell the Maitlands that she loved him had shocked him. He would never believe that she would ever reciprocate his feelings. But she did, and he had never felt happier.

And Betelgeuse realised that he didn’t need to get out. He didn’t need the freedom to cause chaos in the living world because he already had everything he wanted. He had successfully built up his bio-exorcist business, and he was in love with a beautiful, amazing living woman who loved him for who he was.

He had it all.

He was the luckiest ghost in the afterlife.

He had waited for Lydia for so long, and he would continue to wait for her until she died and they could take that final journey on the Soul Train together, this time without the worry of having to stop it.

***

Lydia sighed in what would have been annoyance months ago but was now contentment. She was lying across Betelgeuse on the sofa, his black and white blanket draped across them both. Astrid sat in the armchair next to them, shoving handfuls of popcorn in her mouth, laughing at the same scenes as Betelgeuse. Lydia hadn’t even rolled her eyes when Betelgeuse had suggested that they all watch The Exorcist together. She was just happy to have him there, happy for them all to be together. The two most important people in her life were in the room with her right at that moment.

And that’s all that mattered.

For the first time in her life, she was truly happy.

The future felt bright, and she had already started making plans to return to her photography hobby and do a little bit of travelling with Astrid.

“Anyone want a hot drink?” the teenager asked, placing the bowl of popcorn down on the table.

“I’ll have some coffee, please.”

“Coffee. Black. And stick some of this in it,” said Betelgeuse, pulling a small bottle of whiskey out of his jacket. “And have a little bit of it in yours too, kid, if ya want.”

“You’re seriously encouraging my teenage daughter to drink alcohol?” said Lydia, looking up at him in disbelief.

“Little bit of whiskey never killed anyone,” said Betelgeuse, shrugging his shoulders. “Teenagers love experimentin' with alcohol.”

“Nice bit of generalising you’re doing there,” said Astrid, placing her hands on her hips. “Not every teenager wants to start poisoning their liver. I’ll stick with just coffee, thanks.”

She exited the room, and Betelgeuse let out a loud laugh.

“Kids got her head screwed on right, I’ll give her that.”

“I know, I’m lucky. She’s wise beyond her years.”

“She comes from you,” said Betelgeuse, looking down at her, his expression soft. “Anythin’ that you produce is amazin’.”

Lydia let out a chuckle and reached up to touch his face.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “For making me happy.”

“You’re the one makin’ me happy, Lyds.”

“I should be marrying you, setting you free…”

“Nah. Got everythin’ I want right here. I'm sittin' here watchin' my favourite movie with my strange and unusual beautiful, livin' girlfriend and her awesome daughter. I’m a lucky ghost…”

Lydia smiled and closed her eyes in contentment. But, as always, her overanxious brain was threatening to ruin the moment.

“Doesn’t it bother you, though?” she asked. “Me not being dead? What if I don’t die until I’m ninety?”

“Honey, you’re talkin’ to a six-hundred-year-old ghost.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t an old man when you died, though.”

“Hey, thirty-seven was considered old back then. I don’t care how old you are, Lyds, I’ll always love ya.”

She smiled as he gently brushed her cheek with his hand.

“He was right, you know,” Betelgeuse said softly.

“Who?”

“Robert. You’re kind, gentle and rare. Ain’t many people like you. You’re special.”

Lydia smiled up at him before wrapping her arms around his belly and snuggling into his chest.

“And there aren’t many people like you, either,” she said softly, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent.

Betelgeuse sniggered and leaned down.

“There are a lotta benefits to havin’ a ghost like me as your boyfriend,” he growled into her ear.

“I know, I’ve already experienced some of those benefits,” Lydia replied, blushing and laughing into his chest.

Astrid entered the room, clutching a tray with their coffees on.

“Guess I’ll be needing my headphones tonight,” she muttered, setting the tray down on the table. “Has Regan vomited on Father Karras yet?”

“Nope,” said Betelgeuse, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “You’re just in time, kid. It’s about to happen.”

“Awesome,” said Astrid, grinning widely and taking a seat in the armchair.

And as the scene started and their laughter filled the room, Lydia smiled.

She had everything she wanted right here, in this room. She and Betelgeuse were both free, free from Rory and Delores, free from any contracts, free from the dangerous demands of Lydia’s job.

Lydia knew there would still be challenges to face in the remainder of her life. There always was. But no matter what those challenges were, she knew that she would be able to get through them, because Betelgeuse would always be there. He would always stand by her and keep her safe.

All those unpleasant comments on the Ghost House forum didn’t bother her anymore because she was with someone who loved her for who she was.

And that’s all that mattered.

And although Lydia hoped it would be a while until she died, she knew that when the time came, she was going to be more than ready to take that final journey on the Soul Train, with Betelgeuse by her side.