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vavandeveresfan · 3 years

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“Michael Keaton, Revved Up and Ready to Tell Some Stories.”

By David Marchese, for The New York Times Magazine. Aug. 29, 2021

Michael Keaton has been a star for long enough to have gone through multiple and distinctly different cycles of fame and artistic expression. He has zigzagged through the years from the gleeful anarchic charge of his comedic work in his early hit films like “Night Shift” (1982) and “Mr. Mom” (1983) to megastardom via the gothic “Batman” (1989) and even more gothic “Batman Returns” (1992). Then, after a period in the wilderness in the 2000s, he made a welcome comeback, kicked off by his detailed and widely praised character work in “Birdman” (2014). He’s such a familiar, even nostalgic, figure at this point that it’s easy to take his uniqueness for granted. It’s hard to think of another actor capable of, say, the manically riffing poltergeist he played in “Beetlejuice” (1988) and the layered gravitas of a latter-day role like his hard-nosed Boston Globe editor Walter Robinson in “Spotlight” (2015). But no matter the part — and I think this is essential to his appeal — Keaton, who is 69, always exudes an intense (and intensely American) self-reliance, a defiant independence. That quality is on display in various forms in his recent work as a contract killer in the thriller “The Protégé,” released in August; as Kenneth Feinberg, the real-life lawyer in charge of dispensing the 9/11 victims compensation fund in “Worth,” which premieres on Netflix Sept. 3; and as a small-town doctor whose eyes gradually open to the opioid crisis in the Hulu limited series “Dopesick,” slated for release on Oct. 13. “There’s something to getting older,” says Keaton, a digressive and keyed-up talker, who paced nonstop through his Montana home as we spoke via Zoom. “Not only do the roles get a little different, but your interpretation of them might be more interesting too.”

A few years ago in an interview you said that there was a point in your career, I guess it was in the mid-2000s before you sort of disappeared for a while,

I have wide interests, or catholic interests, as they say, and when you’re like that, you reach a point where you go, “OK, I still have to make a living so I have to take certain acting jobs,” and you try to do your best. Then you start to literally get tired of hearing your own voice, and also metaphorically get tired. You kinda go, “Am I a bullshitter right now?” But you say, “Hey, man, I’m fortunate enough to have a gig.” And I pass up a lot of work. I’ve passed up so much work over the years because I was curious about other things. I wanted to live life. Maybe it’s that nothing was coming around that made me interested. But I think work’s real important. I’m looking forward to a time when my work becomes other work, frankly. Like I’m involved with this environmentally conscientious construction company. I don’t know. Maybe I got bored with acting. That sounds so cavalier: “I was bored.” But I probably did get a little bored with myself. People forget about you, and I’m off doing other things. But I thought: I’ll be all right. Better roles will come around. Then, you know that whole thing of how you can manifest things? It’s doable. Your attitude, how you look at things and what you can create is more in your power than a lot of people think.

What’s the trick?

Here’s the deal: Everything comes down to the question of what do you want? You keep going back to what you want and you go, “Well, I have this,” but, yeah, what do you want? Then you have to drill down and have the balls to say, “If that’s what you really want, then you have to do X.” You know what the rest of it is? Good fortune. A couple of things go your way. Alejandro González Iñárritu calls my agent, and he goes, “I want to talk to him about this movie.” Because I like sports so much I use probably too many sports metaphors, but you gotta get tough and be competitive and not want to lie down. Certain things started coming around for me because I said, “I’m not lying down.” I don’t know. I’m probably overanalyzing it.

So when you asked yourself what you really wanted, what did you come up with?

Dude, dude, dude. We do not have time. We seriously do not have time for that. Trust me. That’s a whole other conversation. I don’t think print serves that question, to be really honest with you. It’s not like a thing you can touch.

OK. But then what do you actually do after you ask yourself what you really want?

You’ll come up with another answer. Then you’ll have to keep asking yourself, Yeah, but what is that? And then if you can live in that — without sounding like I’m saying something that makes me want to go outside and vomit — you kind of raise your consciousness.

I’m not sure I totally follow but —

Can I add this?

Please.

I’m blessed-slash-cursed with a bit of a chip on my shoulder. I keep it there because it’s motivational.

OK, so to get back on track: You had a period where you would do performances and they wouldn’t ring true? I’m just trying to get a handle.

So you hear yourself speaking, you’re in a scene, and it doesn’t necessarily not ring true, it’s just kind of a sound you’re doing that’s too familiar. I can’t explain it. I think there was a little overall boredom but not with the business — bored with me. Then the next level of that is are you having any fun or are you even really any good right now? So you’d stop, step back and reassess. Do some other things. Frankly the reason — a reason — that a person can be more effective as an actor — boy I hate acting talk.

Indulge me.

You’re the boss. I think you become a better actor if you have a world awareness and if you have experiences and you hear the way people speak. It was also a pride thing, eventually wanting to do more stuff. After a while you kind of go: I got some ammunition left. But I was living. I was doing some things, I was picking up a little bit of work. My attitude was make ’em throw you your pitch. Foul off a few. Take close ones right on the edge of the plate. You go: “Uh-uh. I’m here. I’m a [expletive] hitter.” Then you go, “I can hit that.” So you just hang in there. By the way, I’m not convinced baseball players of all the athletes are the brightest of the bunch.

I know you like to talk in sports metaphors so —

[Laughs.] You have that tone: “I know you like to talk in sport metaphors. But could you stop?”

No, no. I was going to ask if you could use one to describe where you are in your career now.

No. I could never describe it. I get embarrassed using the word “career.” Once you start talking like that you have a self-consciousness about it, and it takes away from: What’s the thing you really are supposed to do? What’s the job at hand? What’s your function in life?

There’s a passage in the piece you wrote for that book about fishing, “Astream”(A 2012 collection of nonfiction pieces by American writers on fly fishing.) “If you’re doing it right, the longer you live, the more you become just who you really are.” Are you becoming closer to who you really are? And who is that person?

It’s [expletive]. It’s just [expletive]. I’m so lost, Dave. [Laughs.] No, it’s funny, I was doing this little meditation today, and I was thinking about some version of that. So the answer to that question is, I don’t have any idea.

But when “Birdman” happened — and this was compounded by “Spotlight” also being so acclaimed and following that movie so closely — there was the idea that you had a comeback. Did that change your perspective about what your career had been up to then?

I don’t even like to use the word “career.” It sounds so narcissistic. “My career”; “career-wise.” It sounds pretentious just hearing myself say it now. To be totally honest, it’s not like everybody was knocking on my door. What people don’t know is, I never left; I was always picking up a little gig here and there. Throw a little money in the bank. I’m too antsy to sit around anyway. Fortunately, I’m interested in a lot of other things.

Like what?

I’m a news junkie. I kind of obsess over that, which is not good, and I do my little things under the radar with guys like Jim Messina. (In November, Keaton was featured in a pro-Biden video aimed at voters in his native Pennsylvania. The spot was created by American Bridge 21st Century, a super PAC that the former Obama deputy chief of staff Jim Messina worked with as an adviser during the 2020 election.) I love nature and being outside. My kid and I are tight. You know, I’m just so lazy. Honest to God. I mean, Thomas McGuane,(The esteemed novelist, who is the author of, among other books, “Ninety-Two in the Shade,” and a neighbor of Keaton’s in Montana.) he’s an old friend. He told me a while back, he said, You need to write. I thought I would write early on, and I quit because I’m lazy. So I’m doing a little more of that just for me. I’m developing this thing with Jay Roach and Owen Burke and Adam McKay.(Keaton is working with the trio, who have collectively participated in a bunch of smash Hollywood comedies, on an adaptation of a story by the New Yorker journalist Evan Osnos. Keaton declined to elaborate on precisely which story.) That takes up a fair amount of my time. When I get involved like that creatively, I get excited again. Even this interview: I’m not unnecessarily flattering you, but when I get talking about things — I forget how much I like things like this conversation. I start to get stimulated again.

I know there’s an element of randomness to the roles an actor ends up taking, but you’ve done “Dopesick” and “Worth” and “The Trial of the Chicago 7”. all relatively close to each other. Is that indicative of any increased desire to address politics more in your work?

You know, probably. There are things I did because I thought they had to be out there. I’ve always thought, without sounding self-serving here, that it’s important to be able to say, “If it all falls apart tomorrow, at least I did something that maybe meant something to someone.” “Dopesick” is personal. I lost a nephew to heroin. Fentanyl, really. It was my sister’s son. I don’t think I believe that I have a responsibility exactly, but you wouldn’t want to leave the world going: “I could have been a mensch. I could have turned somebody around.” People have come up to me about “My Life” (Keaton played a man diagnosed with terminal cancer opposite Nicole Kidman in this 1993 tear-jerker) and certain things that I’ve done and commented on what it meant to them. So you can say: “There’s that. At least I did that.”

Was it cathartic to work on “Dopesick”?

Well, I told his mom, my sister, about it after I had already signed on. I was direct and honest with her. I said, “Look, if this wasn’t well written or if they were saying you’ve got to kind of work for free, I’m not going to lie to you and say I would have done it, but, that said, the No. 1 reason I’m doing this is for Michael1111 Keaton’s nephew, also named Michael. and you and for everyone out there, because it’s important.” Then what happens is once you get going you’re locked in. There were moments where we were reading the script, and you would say, “Jeez, this is Michael’s story.” But that’s not the job at hand. The job at hand is to be the doctor and get back to work.

The doctor in “Dopesick” or Ken Feinberg in “Worth” are both sort of authority figures, which can be said of a lot of the characters you’ve played since “Birdman.” But earlier in your career — sorry for using that word — pretty much from “Night Shift” to “The Paper” you tended to play anti-authority types. What accounts for that change?

I totally know what you’re saying. I don’t know that I’ve thought about that specifically. Now, there’s probably some kind of stupid pride that would make me say, man, the guy in “The Paper” is certainly not like the guy in “Night Shift,” and “Beetlejuice” wasn’t like anything else. “Mr. Mom” was different. “Multiplicity” is one of my favorites, too, and that’s different.

“Tuck tuck fold.”

[Laughs.] Man, I miss that stuff so much. To see how far I could push Andie McDowell, to see if I could get her to break. What’s really interesting about you saying that is, man, do I miss — it sounds egotistical — being funny.

I’ve watched some of your old stand-up (Keaton’s first career in show business was as a stand-up comedian in the mid-to-late ’70s. That is, if you don’t count the crew work he did before that on “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.”) but you know what really killed me? Watching your Letterman appearances from the early ’80s. The conversation between you two is just joke after joke after joke, and the one time where you came on walking on your hands? The energy level is just — it’s very cocaine.

I don’t get to talk about this very often with people. I’m actually enjoying this. First of all — 100 percent true — absolutely no cocaine was involved. I’m not trying to save any kind of reputation. I’m just saying.

Oh, sorry, I was joking. I was just commenting on the vibe.

No, no, no. I do realize what you noticed because I remember being on a movie with someone — I’m not going to say who, they’re friends of mine now — and I found out years later they assumed I was on something, and they got worried. They thought, Jeez what if we get shut down? But even talking to you now, I feel myself getting revved up. I get like that. I’ve been like that since I was a little kid. It’s probably annoying to some people. I miss that stuff with Letterman and those guys. When I hear people talk about stand-up, no one really gets — unless you’re in that world — what that world really is; what you have to do if you want to be really good and how serious it can get. I was always afraid that the fun would go away. I was always afraid that I’d “catch the disease.”

The disease of being a morose comic?

Basically. The crazy that’s a lot of times in there and the self-involvement and, at the time, the friggin’ cocaine, which was everywhere.

I read some old magazine profile of you where you made passing mention about bombing as a young comedian onstage in Las Vegas. Is there a story there?

Yes. I pretty much — and I’m not saying this out of, well, wait a minute, maybe I am saying it out of braggadocio. I don’t know. Let me hear myself say it. Maybe I am. I’m really not bragging: What little act I had, I knew that some parts of it worked. They just did. So at the time Cher — if you’re enough of an entertainment nerd you’ll probably remember there was this phase where Cher really wanted to be a rocker, and she’s kind of not. She’s Cher.

She was playing the part, though.

Yeah, and this was in old Vegas. You look at the acts in Vegas now? They could be down in the West Village. Then, that wasn’t it. That was not it. I think her thinking was, Let’s go hipper, let’s go young, because I’m Cher and I’m going to do my rock tunes. So somebody said, “You gotta go see this guy” — me. She sees me and says: “He’s funny. Let’s take him.” So I go “Cool.” Meanwhile if you drove down the Strip and looked at the marquees, who the names were, they were comics that not even my dad would — just older guys. I’m not saying good or bad; a totally different thing. So I go, OK, I’m kind of scared, but I pretty much know this material works. It doesn’t bomb. It just doesn’t. It’s not like people were writhing on the floor with laughter ever but I go, no, this works. Then I started to get a feel for Vegas and I’m going, Oh, boy. But I thought, Well, they’re going to see Cher so I don’t have to do a lot of time. Then she started telling me how much time she wanted me to do, and I went, [expletive], I don’t have this. And backstage the curtains were like 40 feet high. It was like, Whoa, wait a minute, this is big. Then you get onstage, and they’re there to see Cher. They’re still eating, all you hear is silverware and people mumbling things like, “Hey, I didn’t order Thousand Island.” You’re up there and they go: “Who is this kid? Why is he bothering us?” I remember starting with some kind of architecture-related joke.

Those usually kill.

[Laughs.] Oh, people love architecture bits. It was death, and I had never experienced death. I remember sweat literally running down my back. By the way, the architecture thing was totally stupid in retrospect. It’s not even funny. So anyway, that was traumatic. I always felt like I disappointed Cher. She’s great though.

I have a “Batman” question: When I rewatched “Batman” (This film and its sequel — both huge commercial successes — were directed by Tim Burton, who had previously directed Keaton in “Beetlejuice.” Keaton and Burton both declined to revisit Batman for “Batman Forever” (1995). They did reunite on “Dumbo” in 2019.) and “Batman Returns” it seemed to me as if there was a progression from one film to the next in how you played Bruce Wayne. Picking that character up again 30-ish years later in “The Flash,” (Keaton will reprise his role as Bruce Wayne and Batman in this film, currently slated for a 2022 release) are you playing him as a continuation of that same guy or are you starting from scratch?

That’s a really good question. I’m not being cute: When I hear you speak I go, “I have a feeling he knows more about Bruce Wayne than I do.” I don’t know if I thought about it that much. Maybe I did. The first “Batman” I didn’t think was going to happen because when Tim Burton called me, he said, “I want to talk about this thing.” I go, “Cool, what do you got?” He tells me and I go, “Wow.” He said, “Go home and read this script.” We had developed a relationship. We’re pals to this day. So I went home and read it, and I went, “I don’t think he’s going to want me to do this after I say what I think.” Then we met and I go, “I think the character is this, this, this and this.” I remember Tim’s hair was really long, and he’s looking at me, and as I’m talking his hair is flapping up and down, like nodding woo woo, and I went, I guess he’s thinking like I’m thinking. So I say, “OK, let’s do it.” Then everybody was saying, “Oh, my God, the world’s going to end.” (There was a negative fan outcry after it was first announced that Keaton would play Batman. The general gist being that the actor — best known back then for his comedic roles — lacked sufficient seriousness to play the comic-book character.) I thought, Really? Do people think that there’s anything to be outraged about?

You know people take superhero movie stuff even more seriously than Jesus these days, right?

I do. It’s crazy. But doing it again was in a way more fun than any other time. I think I invested myself more. Honestly, I’m probably too frightened to phone anything in. I would phone something in if I could. I just can’t allow it to happen. The kind of athletes I’ve always liked are the grinders. Guys who just said: “[Expletive] you. I’m going down hard.” So I thought about the character again, and I thought, OK, if you’re going to do it, don’t be a dick. Go to work. Do the thing. I don’t know how you are about this, but I never got the whole fascination with the superhero thing. We can laugh at the people who obsess but it’s none of my business what people think. Their interests are their interests. I didn’t want to disrespect it. I thought, Hey, man, embrace it. Be a professional and do everything a professional’s supposed to — but, well, all my conversations with Andy, (Andrés Muschietti, director of “The Flash.”) a couple things he wanted me to do I go, “Nah, I’m not doing that.” By the way, I’m talking about two little things where I said, “No, that’s not the character.” Because you have to honor that guy. After all these years, if you’re going to do this again, be respectful to the character and the movie. And Andy was right about a lot of stuff that I’d thought: I don’t know if you should do that with this guy. It’s all pulpy and everything, but Bruce Wayne’s an interesting character.

You know, I hadn’t realized that you and Tim Burton were still pals, and now I’m mentally stuck on the possibility of him all gothed out going fly-fishing with you in Montana.

[Laughs.] You know, the imagery does seem weird. I will tell you, here’s the thing about Tim Burton that a lot of people don’t know: Because he has certain mannerisms and personality and what his art looks like, I think there’s a little misperception. He’s refreshingly way more normal than people — I don’t know if normal is the right word but you know what I mean.

I’m going to keep sidetracking now — that’s your influence, by the way.

That’s good. That’s real good. Did you ever read “Tarantula”?

The Bob Dylan book? Yeah. (Dylan’s prose-poetry collection, published by Macmillan in 1971. Here’s how it starts: “aretha/ crystal jukebox queen of hymn & him diffused in drunk transfusion wound would heed sweet soundwave crippled & cry salute.”)

A guy like you probably said, “I understand all of this.” [Laughs.] I don’t even know if that’s a good book, but I remember when I read it, I was going, Wow, Dylan’s really deep. Then I went, But what is he talking about? Anyway, go ahead.

You got a good fishing story?

We were all hanging the other day — who was I talking to? Oh, I’ll tell ya! I was with my friend Skip Herman, who I fish with. Huey was there.

Huey? You don’t mean Huey Lewis?

Huey Lewis, yeah. Excellent angler. I think he had a scholarship to Cornell and —

The fishing story?

Oh, sorry. We’re sitting around telling these stories, how fly fishermen do, and I said, “Most of my fishing stories, they’re seldom about catching fish.” However, probably the best fish I ever caught was a steelhead up in British Columbia with a broken rod that I had to hold together in two pieces. When I say I chased this fish down: in and out of a drift boat five or six times. And when I say I chased this fish down: giant, hot white-water stretch of the Sustut in British Columbia, for about over an eighth of a mile, maybe closer to a quarter of a mile, and landed it with a broken rod. A buddy of mine who was a rod builder, I’ve never told him that his rod broke. He’ll take it well, he’s a good guy. You know, I probably do have some fishing stories. Maybe I’ll tell ya another time.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity from two conversations.

#Michael Keaton #Batman #Beelejuice #Worth #The Flash #The Protege #Birdman #Spotlight #Dopesick #V.A. Vandevere #Tim Burton

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chemicalcindercat · 3 years

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It was then Beetlejuice realized that the blankets weren't vibrating at all; Lydia was shaking uncontrollably. Beetlejuice wasted no time in scooping Lydia up into his arms and juicing them back to his house. He gently set her down on his bed, before darting around his house, desperately searching for a thermometer. Finally he found one buried deep in his dresser; Beetlejuice was already dead, so he didn't get sick, and therefore had no use for a thermometer very often. He ran back to Lydia and took her temperature.

106.8

"Shit!"

Chapters: 1 (2,420 words)

Fandom: Beetlejuice (mostly based on the 1989 cartoon, but can be read for the movie or musical as well)

Rating: T (not entirely consensual, non-sexual nudity)

Relationships: Beetlejuice & Lydia, Beetlejuice/Lydia, it could be read as romantic or completely platonic

Additional Tags: Sick, fluff and angst, fever, angst and hurt/comfort, Lydia feels like she’s dying, BJ to the rescue, nudity, but I mean it’s a story, so it’s not like you can actually see anything, slight beetlebabes, if you squint, mt. Blanket, drink the damn water, twist ending, older Lydia AU

Beetlejuice was bored.

The Ghost With The Most was currently channel-surfing, trying to find something to do. Maybe bored wasn't the best word, but he really wanted something, anything to entertain himself. Sadly, nothing was on but ghost soap-operas. They could be hilariously dramatic sometimes, but Beetlejuice didn't feel like watching them without someone (*cough cough* Lydia! *cough*) to laugh with him.

Really, Lydia was the reason Beetlejuice was bored. It wasn't her fault or anything, she didn't do anything wrong. It was just that nothing seemed appealing to do without her. He hadn't realized just how much he enjoyed her company until he was without it. Sure, they were best friends and all, and they hung out practically everyday, but Beetlejuice hadn't so much as heard from Lydia all day, and it bothered him. He understood if she was busy, she had a life (unlike him, being dead and all), but she usually at least said checked in on him to make sure he was doing fine without her, or just for a quick chat. Today he hadn't heard anything. Or the day before. This was the longest they had gone without talking to each other, and it made him get this feeling inside of him, something he couldn't ever remember feeling before, and he didn't know how to feel about it.

Worry.

Beetlejuice was worried for his friend. Being worried was a perfectly natural thing, and it showed he truly cared for Lydia, but Beetlejuice didn't know that. All he knew was that it was a strange feeling for him, which he didn't like, so he decided to go and check on Lydia.

Teleporting into her mirror, Beetlejuice was slightly confused. The door to Lydia's bedroom was shut, the curtains were closed, and the room was dark. This in itself was a bit strange for it being 4:00pm, but knowing that this was his Lyds he was thinking about, it wasn't all that weird. What was weird was that it seemed Lydia was buried under a mountain of blankets in her bed. Now that was definitely off.

"Psssssst," Beelejuice called in a whisper, in case she was asleep. "Lyds, it's me, let me in!" The blanket mountain shifted, and Beetlejuice heard a murmur. Lydia was awake, she had called his name. He hadn't been able to hear her, but he got the feeling in his gut that happened whenever someone said his name. Then another murmur, followed immediately by the same feeling once more. Then…

Nothing.

That was most definitely strange, Lydia never stopped in the middle of calling him. Maybe she'd fallen asleep? While he knew it was a real possibility, Beetlejuice couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"Babes?" He called, slightly louder than the first time. "Come on, Babes, one more time! Don't leave me hanging!" He whisper shouted.

Suddenly Beetlejuice was pulled through the mirror and into the room. That time he hadn't even heard Lydia murmur, but obviously she had, for he was now in her bedroom. He quickly floated over to Mt. Blanket, which seemed to be vibrating. Lydia peeked out from under the covers, her eyes red and puffy and her face drenched with sweat. "Lyds?" Beetlejuice asked softly as Lydia closed her eyes. "Are you okay, Babes?" Lydia mumbled something unintelligible. "What was that? I can't understand."

"...old…" Was the response.

"Babes, I can't understand you. Please, you have to tell me what's wrong, or I can't help!" Beetlejuice exclaimed, trying not to freak out. He'd never seen his best friend in such a terrible state, and it startled him.

No, not startled. Terrified.

"... So...cold…" Lydia said, opening her eyes again, but being unable to focus on anything in particular. Beetlejuice's heart sank, realizing that what he had first suspected was true. He placed his hand on Lydia's forehead, feeling how hot her skin was. Lydua had a fever, and a very high one at that.

106.8

"Shit!"

As long as it had been since Beetlejuice was alive and had to deal with sickness, even he knew that a fever that high was extremely dangerous. It angered him greatly that Lydia's fever had been left untreated long enough for it to get so high. He was pissed, but as much as he wanted to go and make her parents pay, Lydia had to be his top priority at the moment. Bringing down her fever was all that mattered.

The first thing Beetlejuice did was get a nice, tall glass of water, and take it over to her. He propped up a few pillows behind her, sitting her up enough to not choke on the water, and tried to get her to drink. The stubborn teen refused, shaking her head no and looking away.

"Lydia," Beetlejuice practically begged. "Come on! You need to drink this water, please! Of the things to fight me over, now is not the time!"

Lydia flinched, starting to cry. Beetlejuice's eyes widened as he saw he made her cry.

"Oh, no, Lyds, please don't cry. I didn't mean to yell, I just… I need you to drink this. It will make you feel better."

"M-my head… hurts.. so much…"

After a few minutes of persuasion, Beetlejuice finally got the half-conscious girl to drink some water. Then he had her take Ibuprofen for the headache, and put a cool, damp washcloth on her forehead. After about 20 minutes, her fever had gone down by a few tenths of a degree, but wasn't enough to satisfy Beetlejuice.

(A/N: He will never be satisfied, I will never be satisfiiiiieeddddd!! Sorry, I had to let out my inner Angelica.)

Beetlejuice thought for a second. If a cold wash rag was the answer to helping with low fevers, it didn't take a genius to figure out that a cold bath should help Lydia.

However, even if he could get her to focus enough to get into the bath, he definitely didn't trust her to bathe in this state. It was bad enough that she couldn't walk right, and could slip and hit her head while getting into the tub, but the fear that she might pass out in the tub and drown was a whole other story. It was too much.

Beetlejuice was torn. He loved Lydia. You can't have someone you care about in your life for that long and not love them. He wasn't entirely sure just how Lydia felt towards him, (whether she thought of them as friends, or something more,) but either way he didn't want to be creepy, or make her feel uncomfortable, and most of all he didn't want to betray her trust.

In the end, Beetlejuice figured it out. He did love Lydia, which meant he would do what was best for her, and risk how it would affect their friendship. He left Lydia's side to go to his bathtub and scrub it out fairly quickly. It was filthy, and would've taken much longer had it not been for his juice. Then he filled it with cool water.

Beetlejuice approached Lydia slowly, not quite sure how to go about this. "Hey, Lyds?" He called softly as he got closer.

"Hmm?" Lydia murmured, still in a confused state of mind.

"We gotta get you in the bath, alright?" Beetlejuice continued as he returned to his spot right by her side. "Can you help me take your clothes off?"

Beetlejuice sat Lydia up, causing her to wince and clench her head in pain. He helped her stand up, and she stumbled a bit, so he put her arm around his neck, supporting her weight so she could get to the bathroom.

As they got to the bathroom, and Beetlejuice started to help Lydia out of her clothes, she suddenly pulled away from him and stumbled over to the toilet, throwing herself over it just in time to vomit. She started crying and trembling, and Beetlejuice just stood behind her and held her hair out of the way. Once she finished, he ran back to the bedroom and came back with her water, so she could get rid of the awful flavor.

After a little bit of struggling with the clothes, (Beetlejuice only struggled because he didn't want to take off her panties, and instructing a sick,lethargic sick person to take off their underwear isn't the easiest thing to do.) Lydia was finally in the bath. Beetlejuice sat nearby, facing the wall of the bathroom so that he wasn't seeing Lydia naked anymore than necessary, but he kept her in his peripheral so that he could make sure she stayed awake and safe.

It was hard to admit, but even Beetlejuice knew that if it was any other girl, he wouldn't stop himself from admiring her beautiful body- Wait, did he just think that out loud?- but he respected Lydia way more than that, so this was how it was.

After letting her sit for around 20 minutes, he helped her out of the tub (while specifically not staring at her), and gave her one of his old towels to dry off with. Then, he shut the door to the bathroom and stood right outside it, giving her privacy but staying close in case something happened.

By the time Lydia was back in bed, Beetlejuice was taking her temperature again.

103.6

It was still a high fever, but it definitely made Beetlejuice feel better about helping Lydia get undressed to bathe. He made her drink some more water, and then replaced the cool rag to her forehead, using it and his juice to help her fall into a peaceful sleep. After a few moments of hesitation, Beetlejuice climbed into his bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her. Soon enough, both the doctor and the patient were in deep sleep.

~~~

Lydia woke up feeling groggy. What a great night's sleep! She thought with a smile, yawning as she rolled over. Her smile vanished instantly when she saw Beetlejuice in bed with her.

What is he doing in my bed?? Lydia thought in a panic. Sure, she had been feeling a bit weird towards the Ghost With The Most lately, but surely nothing had happened! Then, she realized that Beetlejuice wasn't in her bed.

She was in Beetlejuice's bed!

Lydia couldn't decide if that made it better or worse.

After a few moments of calming down, the events of the night before, or at least, what Lydia could remember of it, started to come back to her. She had felt terrible, constantly freezing no matter how many blankets she hid under, and the headache was the worst! And then Beetlejuice had come, and he took her to his bedroom, and he made her drink water, and he took her clothes off so she could bathe, and he held her hair back while she threw up, and he helped her go to sleep, and-

Wait.

…Beetlejuice… took off… her clothes??

Having just woken up, this was a lot for the teen to handle. She felt her face blush bright red, imagining him taking her clothes off, (in reality it was nothing like how she was imagining) and she gasped as something hot reached over and touched her forehead. Realizing it was just Beetlejuice's hand, she was able to calm down a little more.

"Heya, Babes. Did you sleep well?" Beetlejuice asked, his voice a bit rough from having just woken up. He reached for the thermometer as Lydia thought of how to respond. "You feel normal, but this thing is more of a doctor than I'll ever be." He explained as he took her temperature again.

"Well, you still got a fever, but it's gone down quite nicely through the night. With a few days rest and plenty of water, you should be fine."

Lydia smiled. "Thanks, Beetlejuice. For everything. But...Why did you sleep in the bed? You could've gotten sick yourself!" She scolded.

"Geez, who are you, my mom?" Beetlejuice joked. "Besides, there's no reason to worry, Babes." He stuck his thumb out and pointed it at his chest proudly. "The Ghost With The Most never gets sick!"

"Well, alright, Beetlejuice. If you insist." After a few moments of silence, Beetlejuice started, "About what happened last night? You know, with the bath?" He chuckled nervously.

"Don't worry, BJ," Lydia reassured. "We'll never mention it again. I understand what a bad position that put you in, and all I can say is that I trust you, and you didn't really do anything bad. So… as awkward as it is, there's no weird feelings, right?"

"Of course!" Beetlejuice exclaimed, his face as bright red as Lydia's dress she loved to wear in the Neitherworld. "Thanks, Babes, for understanding. You really are the best."

Lydia couldn't stop herself from throwing her arms around Beetlejuice. "Of course, Beej, you're my best friend! And thanks!"

~~~

The next day, Lydia's fever was gone completely, and she hurried through her chores so she could go to thank Beetlejuice. After going through the completely normal, everyday ritual of chanting magic words to a vase, magically changing into a blood red, spiderweb-patterned dress, and saying hello to her bat friends who were always included in the intro, Lydia was knocking on the door to Beetlejuice's house. Nobody answered. This wasn't that uncommon, and after years of going through this Lydia just let herself in without hesitation.

Beetlejuice was laying in his bed, huddled under a mountain of blankets, shivering and sweating immensely. As bad as she felt, knowing what it felt like from having gone through it herself only 2 days before, Lydia leaned against the doorway to the bedroom, crossed her arms, and laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, Beetlejuice," She said, giggling. "What was that you were saying about never getting sick?"

"Shush it, Babes. You know how much I hate it when you're right."

"But Beetlejuice," Lydia laughed. "I'm always right!"

And even Beetlejuice couldn't deny that.

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