"So what do I have to do?" Lydia stood in front of the wall-sized mirror, which, she couldn't help but notice, didn't reflect Gwyn entirely the way she saw him. In fact, she was completely certain that when they had been sitting at the table, his eyes didn't flicker with white fire, and his hair didn't drip blood in little pools on his shoulders. All thoughts of asking him for his phone number vaporized. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards him, pretending not to notice that he complexion had waxed slightly green.

When he spoke, his voice resonated through her again, and there was no smile on his face or in his eyes (which thankfully were not flaming). "You have Betelgeuse's name from the original source. That makes your hold on him stronger than Barnabas', who has only heard his name three times removed. All you have to do is say his true name three times."

Lydia shook her head, already feeling sick at the thought. " I can't say it, though. They did something to me."

Gwyn looked strongly at her. "You claim to love him, even if your feelings have been battered by this storm and that? Do you love him enough to suffer?"

She blinked at him. She had suffered, hadn't she? She had already suffered. So the answer, of course, was yes. She nodded. And took a deep breath. And said, "G-"

All the beer that she had drunk camp up all over the floor, not tasting near as wonderful the second time, and she found herself on her knees in front of the mirror. She forced her throat to close, and filled up her lungs with the thin, smoky air. "Gabriel—ahhh!"

Betelgeuse felt it like a kick in his gut. He almost cried out in surprise, but managed to muffle it in time. Barnabas was testing the edge of the knife, absorbed in his own thoughts. Betelgeuse searched frantically in his own head for the connection, and he could feel it- Lydia was calling him. He tried to concentrate- to strengthen his signal. And he began to glow.

"Argh!" Gwyn was holding Lydia up now, as she dry heaved until her body shook. She breathed in again. "Gabriel! Dammit-argh-mother-aaaah!" Her head blossomed into a fiery headache that threatened to make her pass out, and she felt the arms of Gwyn around her, and fought for consciousness.

The glow erupted out of Betelgeuse's essence, and Barnabas' eyes grew wide. "No! They won't steal you from me!" He lifted the knife with frantic effort. "To all the Living come the Dead!" Betelgeuse closed his eyes and reached out with everything he had.

Lydia had no strength left. She collapsed, and her eyes closed. In the darkness, she saw him, and he was reaching out for her. She lifted her hand to touch him, her fingertips inches too far away. He wasn't going to be able to reach her. It was she who had to reach him, this time. For everything, love him or doubt it, for Oshun and Juno and all the people who also loved him, and for Gwyn, who had once called him a son, her lips formed, "...gabri...el." And she fainted.

The mirror shattered with the stress of his passage. A rough hand took him by the arm and lifted him up. The hand pressed something very hot against his forehead, and it burned worse than any pain he had felt, and was so cold it froze him deep inside so that he couldn't feel anything anymore. His body melted away and everything was erased. First Lydia, and then the Maitlands... Juno's livid face.. and then he forgot Clara, and his days Hunting with his father rushed past him. Lastly, his final breath echoed in his head, as his lungs emptied and the spark of life floated up...away...

And was caught like a firefly in a strong hand. "I have no idea what she sees in you." The firefly flickered, but couldn't escape. It wasn't sure why it needed to, but it didn't like being kept. An eye peered down at it, and blinked once. "But I would honor her wish." The voice paused for a moment. "I will name you..." And the voice whispered to the firefly.

And somewhere very far away, a very old obsidian knife shattered against an old iron table, and a scream of frustrated fury echoed around the Netherworld an entire year before it faded completely.

Juno cupped the tea in her hands gratefully. It had been a long day, containing that irritating self-proclaimed mobster and minimizing the damage. She was glad for a reason to finally lock him away, but she could still hear him hollering names of angels and demons, even forty-three floors up. That might go on for a while- there were a lot of names to go through. The Netherworld media had had a field day with it all, and she had only gotten the last reporter out of her office by threatening him with a job in Clerical.

"An' so dey live 'appily ever after?" The wan smile of the spirit conveyed a great deal. Juno nodded at her, and then shook her head, dangly earrings brushing against her cheeks.

"Not if he has anything to do with it."

"I think perhaps Gwyn might be a small bit interested in 'er 'imself. Although I don' know what anyone sees in such a thin, pale little thing."

Juno chuckled, glancing at Oshun across the desk. Her friend had come to help, but more to keep tabs on all of it. She was certain that Lydia would have more than one ghost looking over her during her life. Poor thing. "Living, too. It won't last. He'll come crying back to you someday."

"As if I would take 'im." But she looked slightly mollified, and drank her tea. Juno smiled, but managed to hide her amusement in her mug. She wondered what her afterlife might have been like, had Beetlejuice never come into her office at all. No junior apprentice, no "bio-exorcist", no meddling with the Wall, no scoundrel in her office turning her little world into a three-ring circus.

"..very very dull," she whispered. And felt more content in that moment that she ever remembered.