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The Devil's Eyes

Chapter 22

Notes:

Heya, Babes!
I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Maybe some minor trigger warnings for manipulation.
Be safe!

Chapter Text

Betelgeuse spent the next weeks impatiently awaiting Lydia’s return to the attic. He had settled into something of a rotten routine— he started his mornings earlier than he would’ve liked, standing by the window and chain-smoking while he watched Lydia ride off to school. His days ended late, as well— he stayed out, moving around the attic, until well after 3 a.m. While he didn’t need to sleep, he did need to return to the Roadhouse more often than he’d like.
He couldn’t understand how his freedom— his life— could be so closely tied to the Neitherworld, even after the wedding ceremony. He thought it had something to do with the fact that the marriage hadn’t been consummated yet. Though it’d been months since the Sandworm incident, he couldn’t tell if he was meant to count from the moment he said ‘I do’ or from the moment Lydia’s blood fell onto the book.
If it was from the ceremony, he only had a few months left to convince Lydia to sleep with him. He wasn’t even certain he could; not after everything he’d put her through. He could only hope that he had from the blood drop. Then, at least, he had the greater part of the year.
He glanced over to the Roadhouse, which stood disguised as a chapel in the middle of Adam’s model town— he was quite pleased with himself for that deception— and ground his teeth together.
He had never been a patient man and there was no force in the Neitherworld or Earth that could take something he truly wanted away from him.
“And, I’ll have mah freedom,” he spoke to no one in particular. He just needed to find some way to get Lydia to see reason.
“After all, I held up mah end o’ tha deal.”
He didn’t know how much of his words were true. He could feel, in the back of his mind, that he cared for the breather, but he couldn’t remember why. It’d been too long since they spoke, touched, and he couldn’t think of anything but getting out of this dusty old attic and into the sunlight.
He heard someone come barreling up the stairs and, having seen Lydia ride off to school, he knew he would have to hide. He shrunk down, hopping onto the model town, and ducked just inside of the Roadhouse, leaving the door open enough so he could see who was there.
“I know I felt something.” Barbara’s voice rang out, though Betelgeuse couldn’t see her.
Picked up a few tricks, have ya, Babs? He chuckled in spite of himself. Adam came through the open door, corporeal as ever, and looked confused and annoyed.
“Barbara, I am certain he isn’t here. You just… You’re being paranoid.” Adam took his glasses from his eyes and wiped them on his shirt.
“Adam!” Her voice was hushed, closer to Betelgeuse than he liked. He sighed and snapped his fingers, making her visible again. She gasped and stared at her hands. She waved them out for Adam to see, looking triumphant. Adam shook his head and came to her side.
“Why would he stick around if he got his freedom, Barbara?” Adam clasped her wrist in his hand, catching her attention. “He could go to the Bahamas, to France, to China. Hell, he could even go to Florida, if he wanted. What purpose would it serve for him to stay here?”
“Lydia.” Barbara didn’t seem to even have to think about it. In spite of himself, Betelgeuse was impressed.
“She’s served her purpose for him, Barbara. He got his freedom and he moved on. It’s time we did the same.” Adam rubbed his hand up Barbara’s arm and smiled at her.
“I know he’s still here, dammit!” Barbara responded, snatching out of Adam’s hands. “He won’t be satisfied until he’s ruined what little chance of happiness we have, Adam.”
Adam reeled at her words; Barbara seemed to never curse and Betelgeuse was happy to lend his services to her fall from her tower. He smirked, watching the seemingly perfect couple argue.
His smile stretched across his face and he got a wonderfully awful idea.
It might take weeks more, but he could orchestrate the destruction of the relationship and have Lydia turn to him once more.
Thought you felt too much to hurt ‘er. The little voice in the back of his mind spat, almost too eager. He would need to play it safe. Not let the little breather know he was involved. Closing the door to the Roadhouse, he settled in and began plotting.


Lydia sat in the back of the classroom, gazing out the window. She thought back over the previous weeks, sinking her head into her hands. She could hear the teacher droning on at the front of the classroom, but her thoughts were only on Betelgeuse. She missed him— she wanted to be near him once more, but she knew that she couldn’t trust herself around him. She would be too quick to forgive him or he would know her weakness. She felt more stuck than ever.
Her fingers played with the ring on her hand, wondering how long she could hold out before she sought his company. She knew she had feelings for the poltergeist, but she couldn’t imagine she loved him. She didn’t know if she loved anyone, if she was honest with herself.
“Miss Deetz?” The teacher called out, pulling Lydia from her thoughts.
“Yes?” Lydia’s voice came out tired and broken.
“Will you answer the question?” The teacher’s annoyance was more than apparent.
“Which one?” Lydia responded, straining her eyes to see the chalkboard. She could barely make anything out and she wasn’t even sure which class she was in.
“I can do it!” A voice rang out and Lydia’s skin began to crawl. Claire.
“Of course you can, you sniveling prat.” Lydia murmured.
“What did you say?” Claire’s eyes bore into Lydia. Lydia rolled her eyes and resumed her gaze out the window.
“Miss Deetz, you must answer the question.”
“I think Claire would rather do that.”
“Fine, you’ve earned yourself suspension.” The teacher went to his desk and pulled a pink slip from a notepad, bringing it to Lydia. When she didn’t take it, she dropped it to the desk in front of her.
“Fine,” she responded, pulling the slip from her desk and getting to her feet. She thought for a moment if she should go through the front door, but decided that the class deserved a show.
“A smirk ghosted across her lips and she pulled the window open, throwing her leg outside.
“See ya later.” She said, dropping to the ground beneath her. Behind her, she heard the teacher scream her name, warning that this would only get her in more trouble. She didn’t care.
She was tired of living a lie.


Betelgeuse waited for the Maitlands to leave before exiting the Roadhouse. He jumped from the town, growing in size as he went. Downstairs, he heard a door slam and wondered if it was the Maitlands. He hadn’t even started his plan and they were already at each other’s throats.
He smiled to himself for a moment before he heard someone bounding up the stairs. Groaning, he juiced himself, making him invisible.
The door swung open and Lydia stood, gasping, in the doorway. Betelgeuse looked at her with wonder.
“Betelg…” She stopped herself before speaking his full name. The beginnings of a shiver worked its way down his spine and he watched her, waiting for her to do something.
She looked around the attic for a moment, no doubt searching for him, before settling her eyes on the model town. Leaning over, she plucked the chapel up, turning it over in her hands. He smirked, knowing that her ability to see beyond the world was what drew her to him in the first place.
He watched for a moment longer. She gingerly placed the chapel back into the model, stepping away from it.
“Betelgeuse?” She whispered, her voice sending chills down his spine. He loved it when she said his name. He didn’t know if he should make it where she could see him or not. After a moment, she made the decision for him.


Lydia dropped to the couch, dust flying up as she settled, and curled her feet beneath her. She felt so alone— abandoned. Betelgeuse promised he’d be here. She supposed she couldn’t blame him for testing the limits of his newfound freedom, but she missed him.
Tears slipped from her eyes and, for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to cry. She dropped her head to the arm of the couch, sobs wracking through her body. She heard the Maitlands, Delia, and her father moving around in the house beneath her and she knew they would wonder why she was home so soon. She didn’t care, though.
She was only a few short months from graduation and then… Maybe she could search for Betelgeuse on her own.
Raising her head from the couch, she realized she felt something in the attic around her. Something in the air.
“Beej?” She whispered, hoping that the poltergeist would hear her. “Come out where I can see you?”
When she didn’t hear nor see anything, she sighed, dropping her head back to the arm of the couch. She was so near giving up.
Sighing, she left the attic, letting the door shut behind her. She made her way down to her room, settling into the chair in front of her vanity. She stared at her reflection, taking in the deep, sunken eyes and the paleness of her skin. She dropped her head to the surface of the vanity, breathing deeply as she thought about what she should do. She didn’t want to call Betelgeuse to her. She didn’t want to pull him from the freedom he so desperately craved.


Betelgeuse wanted to show himself when Lydia called, but he could feel her pain. Her loneliness left him feeling debilitated. He followed her down the stairs, feeling too weak to use his juice, and watched her as she cried on the vanity. She looked so broken and he couldn’t help the pang of guilt in his heart.
He needed to give her some sign that he was here. She needed to call him. It was the only way he could come to her, at this point. His weakness left him unable to do much else.
He jumped through the vanity, to the other side of the mirror, gasping for breath. He hadn’t felt this weak— this pain— in centuries. He took a moment to catch his breath before leaning to the mirror and gently rapping his knuckles against it.
Lydia looked up, her eyes scanning the mirror. She didn’t seem to understand what he needed. He shook his head and breathed onto the mirror’s surface. The cold on this side was more than he remembered. He hoped that the heat from her room left the mirror capable of showing his breath.
His hope was reaffirmed as his breath fogged the glass. He wrote his name on the glass and hoped she would call for him.
“Betelgeuse?” Lydia whispered, her voice broken from the tears.
“‘At’s it, Babes. Say it fer me.” Betelgeuse encouraged her, though he knew she couldn’t hear him. She stopped and he sighed, leaning forward to write ‘x3’ on the glass.
“Betelgeuse.” She said again, invigorated. “Betelgeuse.”
He smiled as he was pulled from the mirror. He landed on the other side, Lydia’s smile a warm greeting.
“Lyds?” He leaned toward her. “You okay?”
She nodded, but a knock at the door distracted her.
“Lydia?”
It was Barbara and Betelgeuse realized he should’ve known it wouldn’t be easy to get the little breather alone. He should’ve spoken out in the attic. Now, who knows what would happen.
“I’m…” Lydia began, but before she could finish, Barbara opened the door. Betelgeuse put on his widest smile and prepared for the worst.
Barbara screamed.