Beetlejuice No Words

No Words

By Wee-Me

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own "Beetlejuice" or anything related to, I just write silly stories instead of sleeping or doing my homework. I'm not making any money from it so don't sue, thanks.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Once upon a time I updated my long story Pieces in a more regular fashion & I had great reviewers I loved (still love them, hugs all around). Recently in an effort to get out of a deep pit of writer's block I went back through my lovely reviews & found a question in one (Ch. 3 over a year ago, where has the time gone?) posed by the wonderful Doormouse. It caught at me then but was pushed aside by other stories that wanted out of my brain faster. This time it caught all of my attention & I sat down to write this. The question was about why the Maitlands had to save Lydia & not her own parents. I dedicate this to Doormouse, thanks for the inspiration & all the wonderful reviews. Now please read & enjoy.

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If you wanted to sum up the problem all you really had to say was that Charles didn't know how to be a father without his wife to guide him and that Delia was ill-prepared for instant motherhood. Charles left Lydia to her own devices and Delia, after her initial overtures were rebuffed, accepted her step-daughter the same way other women accept that their hubby has a hideous mole or a fascination with model trains, which just means she ignored the problem and hoped it would go away. That explains a lot of it, but not quite enough. In the day to day goings on it made sense that Lydia's guardians merely told her what to do, complained about her behavior, and ignored her but **that night** was different. Under extraordinary circumstances people have been known to do extraordinary things like lift cars or push people from in front of speeding vehicles at their own expense- and these are things that strangers often do for each other, what family would do for one another should be greater, right? But it wasn't for the Deetz family and that left Charles thinking about **that night** more than was probably healthy.

**-That Night-**

It wouldn't occur to Lydia to look to her father for help or ask him for advice on life's important issues- boys, the meaning of life, what to do about the three spirits in the house, and so on. She wouldn't cry out for "Daddy" anymore than she'd seek protection with the Tooth Fairy. And Charles, when he had looked at her from his snared spot on Delia's sculpture, could only blame himself. He was not a brave man, nor particularly strong and the death of his first wife had made his deficiencies worse. The rift between father and daughter began when his wife died, but there was more to the story than losing her. A death in the family could have brought them closer, but Charles threw that chance away.

Life is hard, and finances and numbers were easier to deal with than a little girl who stares up at you crying with her mother's eyes. So he spent his time with numbers who asked very little of him and never changed. It hurt too much to be a father to Lydia without her mother beside him to guide him and help bear the responsibility. He left it up to Fate and found himself wearing the hat of 'vaguely paternal stranger' instead of 'hands on father' as he had before. The 

situation wasn't fair, but then it wasn't fair that his soul mate was gone either. He wrapped himself up in grief like a down comforter and that made the distance between himself and his daughter a distant problem, like an alarm clock in another room.

He would later wish that he could say he gave great thought to Lydia's health and well-being, that he had done his best to provide a happy home environment. He wished he could say that he even considered who was taking care of her, but that would all be a lie. His poor baby had food, shelter, and nice things but had no one at home save the housekeeper and she could only do so much coming in every other day to cook and clean. At school the other children didn't know what to do with a girl that was sad all the time and cried about her lost Mommy so they left her to the dark corners she preferred or mocked her as children are wont to do. The school staff tried to help, but she wouldn't talk to the counselor and she didn't make trouble so they had to move on to more obviously troubled cases. It really was no wonder that Lydia retreated inside her imagination and took care of herself as best she could, which turned out to be fairly well; she couldn't depend on anyone else to be there for her.

Charles had never given any thought to finding someone new and he hadn't noticed the few normal women that made subtle moves. His blanket of grief drove him to work himself to exhaustion (and success) and left him with only social niceties left to give others. Then came Delia, loud and brash, to take an interest in him. She was bold from her hair down to her art, but most of all she was nothing like the first Mrs. Deetz. She had just come from yet another failed relationship with yet another musician/artist/poet when Charles Deetz caught her eye. A stable wealthy businessman whose idea of art was pretty pictures that actually looked like what they were supposed to be was far different from her usual unemployed tortured artist but she pursued him relentlessly. She didn't honestly expect to fall for him, but she figured she could enjoy him while he amused her and eat well, maybe score some nice gifts out of the deal. Becoming a step-mother wasn't even in the realm of possibilities for her.

Of course Charles had told her about his daughter and his wife only a few years in the grave, and she'd found herself jealous of this dead woman. He'd also told her mind numbingly boring work stories with a smile and listened about her art without interruption. He brought her flowers, remembered her favorite foods, and never made her feel bad about doing what she loved. He went to every one of her shows he could and blushed when the material was "naughty", one memorable piece called "Birth" had left him blushing and stuttering in an utterly adorable manner. Six months into it they were both, at the very least, smitten and working their way toward long term commitment. Lydia with her large eyes and too thin frame had not known her father was even seeing anyone until Delia introduced herself around their one year anniversary, but she accepted it without a word and asked to be excused to work on homework. It had given him a twinge, like missing a stair and being startled, that it hadn't occurred to him to talk to Lydia about it and he couldn't bear to look at his wife's photo when he went to bed that night. Lydia managed to be cordial to Delia in her quiet, reserved way for the next several months but then came Valentine's Day.

Charles had weighed the pros and cons, made lists, done graphs, and decided an engagement made sense in his logical mind. February fourteenth also made sense, a perfect 

tactical move for a rational man. It was a sickly sweet soap opera type romantic gesture and Delia ate it up with a spoon. They returned home to Lydia the next day to spread their joy and happy news. Lydia had been readying herself for a bus ride to the library to spend a day in the heavenly walls of a haven of books full of welcoming worlds full of people. She was checking her bag and gathering her coat when Delia captured her in a crushing hug and spoke the words that would set the tone for their relationship for years to come.

"Lyddie-baby, I'm going to be your new mommy and I'm going to be the best mom anyone ever had."

Charles watched Lydia stiffen and wriggle out of the embrace knowing that Delia had overstepped.

"I have a mom and she was the best mom ever. No one can ever come close to how great she was. Go ahead and marry my dad but **she's still my mom**."

Charles had never known a twelve year old face could look so upset or full of scorn (for both Delia and him he would later realize), but then how often had he looked at his child? Then Delia, truly confused, said "But she's dead. What good is she to you now?"

Both of the Deetzes sucked in air as if gut punched, the aching claws of loss filled them in and ripped apart their insides and any healing of their grief that might have occurred. Charles didn't know what was worse: this flippant mention of his true love's death or the fact that Delia honestly didn't mean anything by her wrecking ball comment. The tiny hand that cracked across Delia's cheek was fueled by grief and anger making it strong and quick as a snake.

"Get married or don't. Live here or don't. Do whatever you two think is best, but I don't ever want to **either** of you talk about my mother again."

Both of them were in tears, Lydia moving toward the door and Delia slumped against the counter, and Charles could only comfort one. His decision would set the tone for their lives. He chose Delia, and it would not be the last time, because he knew that it would hurt things with her to leave now and things with Lydia were already quite broken and possibly unfixable. In his mind, a careful place where pros and cons are weighed for every decision, it made more sense to keep things blissfully unbroken with one than to rush after the other and have two broken relationships on his hands. Later, when things with Delia were not so wonderful and especially when he had his health problems, he wondered if he had made the right decision.

Watching from his place trapped off to the side on a frightfully ugly sculpture (_why had he never told her he hated it?_) when Lydia looked not to him but to the corpses beyond him and also knowing that she had only come to them when Delia had ordered it, he knew that he was wrong. Things had gotten so bad between them and he hadn't had a clue. He also hadn't realized how far out of touch he was with his parental instincts. When she was not much more than a baby he had sprained his ankle catching her before she could fall off the couch, but when she needed him **that night** he choked. He couldn't even find it in himself to hold on to her or tell off the lunatic would-be-suitor. He NODDED when the freak talked about his future with Lydia 

for heaven's sake. And Delia, quite possibly the least maternal person he had ever known, had held tighter to Lydia than he did.

His shame burned at the time and it burned every time he gave it even the slightest thought. He couldn't wriggle free of the tangled metal, hardly tried, and he watched the ceremony as if it weren't the most important thing in the world. He hadn't tried to say the name though he could clearly see how important it was and that it would have worked as a distraction. Thank heavens for the Maitlands is all that could be said. Adam and Barbara risked their very essences to save his daughter and he couldn't even bring himself to call out a name.

**-Aftermath-**

When it was all over and the monstrous snake thing had ripped through to eat the groom Charles was all smiles, but he was not a happy man. He was freed from that rock, but it felt to him more like it had been shackled to his ankle as punishment for his paternal failures. She did not run to him. She hugged the Maitlands with glee, but merely allowed her parents to hug her. She spoke to that ghost Juno at length when she arrived, answered the Maitlands numerous queries after her health and well-being, but only nodded when Charles asked after her. He watched his daughter through new eyes and saw a great many things. The first insight was that he didn't know Lydia at all. While his back was turned so coldly to her she had blossomed into a beautiful and strange young woman who seemed so much like her mother at times it caused him distress to know he'd been missing out. He didn't have any pictures of his first wife to avoid anymore when he felt ashamed, they all belong to Lydia, but he could perfectly imagine the disappointed look on her face.

The second insight was that the Maitlands should not have had to save his daughter, especially from a dangerous situation he had been the cause of and she had tried to warn him away from. He should have stepped up and been there for her. He should have been a real father to her all those missing years when he'd focused only on himself. The third, most deeply cutting revelation was that **that night,** or the "ghost fiasco" as Delia would call it, was probably the last chance in a long line of missed chances to reconnect as a father and his failure was a great benefit to his replacements. And replacements the Maitlands were because they stepped in seamlessly to do the things he and Delia had always fumbled with and things that he would never have thought to do (like studying with her). She still sat through his awkward attempts at parenting and silently suffered Delia's lecturing, but it was only Adam and Barbara (and in some ways Juno) she truly looked to for parental guidance.

The Maitlands had been desperate to have a wonderful child just like the one he had spent years ignoring and Lydia had been starved for loving parenting- it was a match made in heaven. They were there to dole out praise, punishment, and life lessons. All of Lydia's large, true smiles were reserved for the dead. Juno checked in with stern yet friendly lecturing, Adam managed to be kindly and paternal, and Barbara mothered better than any hen could have- Lydia positively glowed under their attentions.

Charles could only watch on as Lydia moved on with her life as if he was still tied to that chunk of rock and without a voice. But for once, and possibly the only time he would ever get it 

right, he did what was right for Lydia and stayed in Winter River to keep her with the parents she deserved. He couldn't find the words to save her that awful night and he felt in some ways it was justice that now he couldn't speak up to save his place as her father. All he could do was try to be happy for her and try to content himself to have any place in her life at all. He had thought he knew pain when his wife got sick, or when she died, or any of a dozen other times but that could not compare to knowing that when he buried his wife what he really did was bury his family. For Charles there were no more chances and no words left to make things right for himself and there was no one to blame but himself.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: That's that, I hope you enjoyed (especially Doormouse). Thanks for reading.

Cross-posting to ffdotnet and LJ.


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