Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yasha cracked her neck and stretched her arms over her head. She could do this. She was really fucking strong; something as simple as a slab of old wood on hinges would not bar her entry.

She was the goddamn Orphan Maker, champion of the Storm Lord, wife to Beauregard fucking Lionett, and the unrenovated bathroom hiding behind the door would learn to fear her wrath.

Her foot collided with the door, and- and she bounced back from it as if it was a hostile bouncy castle. A flash of rage blinded her for a moment as she let out a noise that could only be described as a roar and slammed her fist against the door. The wood creaked in protest, the hinges complained, but it still did not open.  

_

Beau had just returned from her biweekly trip to the market to restock their cupboards and cabinets, as well as to pick up a few more paintbrushes and place an order for some extra timber they’d need to build the gazebo Yasha had been dreaming of. Just as she had placed the milk in the fridge, a loud scream from upstairs scared her shitless.

She wasn’t the only one startled. Frumpkin, who had been napping in the windowsill, almost fell off the ledge and disappeared with an irritated meow, and Beau could hear Jester shriek from upstairs where she was most likely camped in front of the television. Without closing the fridge door, Beau bolted the two staircases up to where the scream had come from. She prepared herself for the worst; perhaps Yasha was fighting off burglars, or a monster had hidden in the bathroom Yasha was renovating, or perhaps, even worse, Yasha had injured herself in the process somehow.

She was not prepared to round the corner and find Yasha aggressively trying to kick the door to the bathroom in, and in the process putting her boot right through the spectral form of Caleb. Frumpkin stood between Caleb’s legs, back arched and hissing at Yasha.

“What are you doing?” Beau asked, perplexed. Both Yasha and Caleb immediately focused their attention on hers, Yasha’s gaze intense and Caleb’s expression more stressed than usual. Yasha’s blazing eyes went soft, the anger on her face ebbing away at the sight of her wife.

“The door won’t open,” she said, feeling a little like a petulant toddler. Beau frowned, looking from Yasha, to Caleb, to the door, to the puddle of water slowly emerging from under the door.

“You cannot go in there, Beauregard,” Caleb spoke up, still standing in front of the door and blocking the way. Beau supposed it was the effort that counted because she could easily walk through him.

“Why not?” she asked, crossing her arms, “Also, do we have a leak? Why’s the floor wet?”

Yasha looked down at the floor, confused. Her feet were not wet as far as she could tell, and when she knelt down to touch the ground to double check, there was no moisture whatsoever on the floorboards.

“I don’t think so,” she said, and glanced up to find Beau looking intently at an empty space. She ignored the pang of jealousy in her chest and instead turned her attention back to the door to try and open it.

“Oh- Yash,” Beau said, reaching forward to rest a hand on her arm, “We uh- Let me? It’s ghost stuff. Caleb’s… Caleb’s here, he says we should stay out. It’s Veth, she’s… She doesn’t like us coming into her bathroom, so she’s locked herself in there. He won’t say why, though. Asshole. Yeah- you heard me.”

“Her bathroom?” Yasha repeated, “This is our house, Beau. That bathroom needs to be redone, I’m pretty sure it’s where the mould in the guestroom is coming from.” Beau glanced aside, and pulled a face.

“Caleb’s gonna try and talk to her,” Beau said, “I wanna know what Veth’s so upset about that she’s flooding the whole bathroom.” She gave a nod, and presumably Caleb left, because next thing Yasha knew Beau was banging her head against the wall.

“Uh, does Veth flood bathrooms often?” Yasha asked, trying to go for nonchalance. Beau stopped hitting her head against the wall which Yasha counted as a win.

“I mean, she’s usually dripping wet,” she said, “But this is new.” She made grabby hands at Yasha, who happily went along to wrap Beau up in her arms. With Beau’s face pressed against her chest, Yasha struggled to make out her muffled words.

“They stress me out so much, Yasha,” Beau said, “Feels like every day something happens with them.”

“We could still find an exorcist,” Yasha suggested, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one had overheard, which was silly, because she still could not see the ghosts. Beau made an unhappy noise, and reluctantly turned her head so her cheek was resting against Yasha’s soft chest.

“Nah,” she said, “They’re my friends, I guess. Just worry about them, which is dumb. They have so many issues, Yash, and I can’t help them. We can’t help them. Hell, I can barely handle my own shit, and here I am, worrying in a hallway half flooded with ghost water, wondering if Veth’s gonna come out.”

Yasha leaned down to press a kiss to Beau’s forehead. “First of all, you don’t have to handle your shit alone,” she said, “Like I don’t have to handle my shit alone. I can’t… I don’t know how I can help with the ghosts, but I want to help, Beau. I don’t like that they give you more stress. We’ll figure it out.”

Beau was about to respond when a familiar gagging noise came from behind Yasha’s back.

“Get a room you two,” Veth said, arms crossed where she was standing next to Caleb. Beau untangled herself from Yasha, on instinct flipping Veth off before remembering the situation at hand.

“Sup,” she said, smoothly. Caleb tilted his head at her, looking disappointed, and placed a hand on Veth’s shoulder. “Uh, I mean, are you good?” Beau awkwardly added, only now taking a proper look at Veth. The halfling was wetter than usual, the drips of water falling from her braids adding to the ever-present pool at her feet.

“Just peachy,” Veth bit back, but her expression betrayed her. Her usual glint of mischief was entirely absent, replaced instead by dullness and exhaustion. Beau crossed her arms as well and lifted an eyebrow. She just looked at Veth, who looked up at Caleb, then back at Beau, and groaned.

“Ugh, fine, you can come in, I guess,” she said, and marched back through the door of the bathroom. As she stepped through the wood, the door swung open. Yasha, who had only observed half that conversation, nearly jumped out of her skin, but picked up her toolkit.

“Leave that here, babe,” Beau said, “Come on. Veth’s gonna show us something.”

To Yasha, the bathroom seemed perfectly ordinary. She gingerly sat down on the broken toilet, praying it would not break under her weight.

Beau leaned against the windowsill; her face directed towards the bathtub. On the edge of the dirty and shattered bathtub sat Veth, with Caleb at her feet. She was playing with his hair, a ritual Beau had observed the two of them do almost daily, usually whenever Caleb was having a bad day.

Beau just listened to Veth speak, and then suddenly got on all fours to look under the bathtub. Yasha just stared, part of her immensely distracted by her wife’s ass, the other half of her more confused than ever. The latter won when Beau emerged with a victorious “ha!”, clutching a necklace in one hand, and an old flip phone in the other.

“This yours?” she asked Veth, and then was silent for a while, “Fuck- yeah, we can get the phone to the cops.” She glanced at Yasha, mouthing “I’ll explain later”, before kneeling down in front of the bathtub and opening the button shaped locket dangling from the chain of the necklace. Yasha’s curiosity got the better of her, and she got up to look over Beau’s shoulder.

The locket held a photograph, depicting a halfling man with unruly hair, impressive sideburns, and thick spectacles. Next to him stood a grinning woman with long braided hair and a beautiful curling face tattoo around her eyes. She was wearing the locket Beau was currently holding. Between the two stood a small boy, their child, Yasha assumed, holding a toy crossbow of all things, and smiling a gap-toothed smile at the camera. All three were wearing matching yellow dungarees.

“Is that Veth?” Yasha asked, “She looks happy, there.” Beau blinked rapidly, and cleared her throat as if getting rid of a frog in her throat.

“Yeah, that’s Veth,” she said, “Uh, that’s her husband- his name’s Yeza? Yeah. And that’s…” She looked up for a moment, and chuckled. “I’m quoting Veth here,” she said, “She said that’s her little terror of a boy, his name’s Luc. He’s five here, but she thinks he’d be in his mid-twenties now.”

Yasha was quiet, unsure what to do with this information. She rested her hands on Beau’s shoulders, feeling a weight in the atmosphere she could not explain.

“What happened?” Yasha eventually broke the silence when it became too stifling.

“Can I tell her?” Beau asked, finally getting up from her squat to sit down on the floor, back against the bathtub. Yasha joined her, holding out a hand which Beau gladly took.

“Veth was murdered in this room,” Beau said, in her brusque to the point manner, “She died roughly twenty-ish years ago, drowned in that bathtub by a bunch of goblins, but they never caught them. Fucking hell, Veth, why didn’t you say this before?” Beau rolled her eyes at whatever response she got, but Yasha could tell it was more an act than sincere irritation.

“She doesn’t like us renovating this room,” Beau continued after a bit, “Says it’s a bad place. Veth, we gotta redo at least the plumbing in here though. We can leave the tub if you like, but the rest of it has to go. You gotta understand.”

Veth evidently did not understand, as Beau gestured widely and exclaimed: “See, Caleb gets it. Look, we’ll take your phone to the police, get them to reopen your investigation. But we have to fix this room when they’re done investigating.”

“Uh- Veth? Miss Veth?” Yasha interrupted, and looked in what she hoped was the direction where Veth was, “Hi. Uh. I’m Yasha- we haven’t spoken much. I… If you want, maybe I could find your family? Ask them to visit, um. If that would help.”

Beau looked at Yasha, eyes wide. She hadn’t ever seen Yasha interact with one of the ghosts before, not like this. She knew Mollymauk had attached himself to her, and that they occasionally communicated through painstakingly moved fridge magnets, but as far as Beau was aware, this was the first time Yasha had spoken to any of the ghosts.

Caleb’s face was going through an odd journey before becoming guarded when Veth said: “Tell her yes, Beau. If she can find my boy for me, maybe I can move on or something.” Caleb’s shoulders went tense at that, and Frumpkin suddenly appeared around his neck.

“I think that is a good idea,” Caleb said, voice oddly flat, “You deserve the next life, Veth.” Veth smiled up at Caleb, patting his knee.

“I’m not going without you, silly,” she said, “No matter what. But it would be nice to see Luc and Yeza again.”

Yasha nodded once Beau conveyed Veth’s consent, and she stood up, brushing some dust off of her jeans.

“I will begin to look immediately,” she promised, hesitating for a moment, before holding out a hand, “Veth, if you need to speak to someone, I am usually here. Uh. Bye now.” Beau watched her wife shuffle out of the room, and smiled a little bit.

“I love that woman,” she sighed, but at the same time made a mental note to check in on her later. She had a feeling she knew why Yasha was determined to reunite Veth with her family, to give Veth a chance she had never gotten with Zuala.

“Yeah, she’s alright,” Veth said, “Please don’t destroy my bathroom until I’m gone. Come on, Caleb, we should go see what Caduceus is up to or something.” She sank through the floor, which Beau seriously was never going to get used to.

“Ja, just a moment,” Caleb said, and turned to Beau. “Thank you, Beauregard,” he said, sincerely, “You and I, we are friends.”

Beau didn’t know what else to do but shoot him some finger guns as he followed Veth through the floor. Then she just sat there for a moment, and if she cried, nobody was there to see.

Later that night, Beau made a stop in the old library on the second floor of the manor where she knew Caleb and Veth spent a lot of their time. She saw Veth curled up under a desk, seemingly asleep. Caleb sat at the desk, pouring over whatever old book he had asked Beau to pull off the shelf last. Without needing to ask, Beau turned the page for him, before she headed to a marble bust of some ancient white guy. She dug the pendant from her pocket, and carefully hung it around the white stone. She clicked it open, frowned, and polished a speck of dust from the glass so it was no longer obscuring Veth’s smiling face.

There, perfect.

It was odd, Beau thought. Up until today, she had not realised that this house was the ghosts’ home as much as it was her and Yasha’s. Some had lived here, and all had died here, and Beau felt like an idiot for not thinking to include them in the decisions she and Yasha had been making about the place.

The bathroom could wait, she decided in that moment, looking at Veth’s once happy family. It could wait. First, there was a murder to solve, a family to reunite, and after that, renovation plans to reconsider.