A moment of peace and calm fell over New York City like a gentle snowfall in December. There was little paranormal or supernatural activity transpiring throughout the legendary city which gave the four courageous, if not iconic, Ghostbusters a much needed lull. Janine Melnitz, the loyal and fiery receptionist had been given time off for a much needed vacation, which left the four men alone to finish their required tasks without her assistance.
The quartet of Ghostbusters had gathered at the firehouse for the day, taking advantage of their downtime to work on equipment, paperwork, insurance claims and automotive repair on the ever illustrious Ecto-1.
Together Dr. Ray Stantz and Winston Zeddemore worked on tuning up the recognizable hearse in the garage of the firehouse. Ray was working under the hood, a powerful overhead light dangling from the popped hood illuminated the engine and all of the surrounding components that made Ray feel just like a kid putting together miniature model sets all over again. Winston was under the car taking a look at the exhaust, the brakes, the tires... Every little functioning piece of machinery that kept the hearse running was going to be thoroughly examined and repaired by skilled hands of the hobbyist mechanics.
Dr. Egon Spengler had chosen to isolated himself in his private lab as he began upgrading the delicate components of the PKE meters, the paragoggles and of course the proton packs that made their unorthodox, yet highly successful careers, possible.
Dr. Peter Venkman, however, had the most tedious and boring job of the group. Sitting behind the desk of his small opened spaced office Peter was filing away report after report, signing his name on the bottom line of every legal document that the city had threw his way. Unable to endure the repetitive nature of his task any longer he let out a dramatic, exasperated sigh and rose from his desk in a huff.
"Something troubling you, Venkman?" Ray had heard Peter's theatrics and didn't bother to look away from the engine beneath his hands.
"Bored." Peter replied like a bratty little kid. "I'm going for a walk."
"Are those files finished?" Ray asked without changing the indifferent inflection of his tone.
"Mostly."
Ray stopped working and slowly turned to glance disapprovingly over his shoulder to the lackluster psychologist. "Come on, we need that stuff finished as soon as possible!"
"I know, I know." Peter slid on his tweed coat over his business casual suit. "But I need to get out of this place for a while to clear my head. I'm bored to the verge of insanity, and if I go down I'm taking you all with me!"
Winston just shook his head as he rolled out from under Ecto-1. Grease and oil stained his hands and his gray t-shirt. "You're the only one with the authority to sign those papers, you know that right?"
"Of course I do. But to paraphrase an iconic figure, of both horror and suspense: 'All work and no play makes Peter a dull boy.'" Casually sliding his hands into his coat pockets Peter strolled toward the door. "Just give me twenty minutes to do something other than sit around and play 'desk jockey'. I'll come right back and finish the paperwork. Deal?"
Egon had kept the door to his lab open and had heard the conversation. "Venkman we can't afford any delays with our end of the legal documentation." Looking down at his watch he noted the time; 2:15pm. "You know as well as I that Peck will use any available blemish on our record as leverage in favor of getting us shut down for good."
"Will you guys relax? I have my watch, see?" Peter spun around midstride to look at his colleagues as he continued to walk backward toward the door toward freedom, he rolled up his sleeve to flash him the watch in question. "Nothing is going to happen! Twenty minutes. I promise."
Bursting through the doors of the firehouse Peter stepped outside and took in a deep breath as he picked a direction and began walking. It was the beginning of fall and the air had finally begun to cool after the smothering heat of the summer sun made its pass. The light scent of rain mixed with the smog and fumes of big city living had an oddly intoxicating aroma that always made Peter feel right at home.
Walking down the block, wearing his civilian clothes rather than the representative beige jumpsuit that the whole world had recognized as Ghostbusters attire, allowed the cooped up psychologist the chance to go about his business without being mobbed curious reporters or zealous fans.
As he wandered down the sidewalk, so real goal or destination in mind, he found himself being drawn to the local convenience mart. This place had become a well known source for the Ghostbusters when it came to running small errands or going on a 'snack run'. It was usually a pretty busy place but it was close by, so the crowds never really bothered the four men.
The little bell over the door chimed as Peter stepped inside. It was quiet inside and there didn't seem to be anyone around, but a sense of dread seemed to weighing heavily in the air.
"Something's not right." Peter's instincts as both a trained psychologist and investigator honed in on the unusual atmosphere. The store was empty. "Hello? Is there anyone here?"
A rustling from the back office of the store caught his attention. Curiously he wove his way down the narrow aisles as he approached the closed office door tentatively. Through the frosted glass of the closed office door he could see a figure rummaging around inside the office and he could hear two muffled voices.
"Is everything okay?" He reflexively called out. His voice unsettling the figure inside the office. It was then Peter could see the telltale shape of a gun in the figure's hand.
"Oh geez!" Peter ducked down and pressed his body up against the wall. As he held his breath and refused to move an inch he heard frantic footsteps approach him from behind.
Turning his head he saw a young kid, a teenage girl, standing at the end of the aisle with confusion burning in her eyes.
"Everything will be fine," Peter held up a hand as if he were trying halt her movements from afar. Standing up straight he looked her in the eye and kept his voice steady and calm. "this place is being robbed. Get outside, get somewhere safe and I'll call the cops."
A loud 'bang' from behind drew Peter's attention back to the office. The closed door had been forcibly swung wide open as the gun wielding thief fled the small office with a large bag in hand.
Before Peter had a chance to react a second even louder 'bang' filled his ears as his back was instantly filled with a burning pain. His entire body seemed to go numb as his world came to an abrupt stop. Unable to control any part of his body his knees buckled and he fell forward onto the floor, a puddle of blood blossoming on the back of his jacket where the bullet had entered his body.
Blinking slowly, the side of his face pressing into the cold hard surface of the floor, Peter watched as the thief turned to look down at him. The gun was shaking in his young hand. The thief was no older than fifteen years old. He stared at Peter in confusion, trying to understand why there was a man in the store. It was then the young girl joined him at his side. She had a gun of her own and the barrel was smoking. Pulling on the boy's shirt she dragged him out of the store while Peter laid on the cold floor alone, bleeding to death.
At the firehouse Ray had finished working on Ecto-1 and slammed the opened hood back down, locking it in place. Wiping his greasy hands off on an old red rag he bent down and looked at Winston who had just finished working on the brakes and was rolling out from under the large vehicle.
"Done?" Ray asked as Winston replaced his tools in the large tool chest that was positioned just past the rear bumper of the hearse.
"Done."
Ray tossed the rag over to Winston, who caught it and began wiping off his hands as well. "Great, now all we have to do it wait for Venkman to finish the paperwork and we'll actually be all caught up."
"Yeah, then tonight we're going to out for a beer. First round's on me!"
Egon walked out of his office with his gaze transfixed on his watch of his left wrist. "It's been almost thirty minutes."
Ray and Winston just gave Egon silent, unsure glances.
"Peter said he'd be back ten minutes ago."
Ray just brushed it off. "You know Venkman, he's always late. He'll probably be back by evening and hustle through the paperwork just like he did for exams in college."
Egon shook his head. "No, I have a very peculiar feeling that something is wrong." Unable to shake his uneasiness Egon could only patiently wait for a direct answer to finally be given.
Ray looked down at his grimy hands, despite having wiped them off there was still trace amounts of oil and grease. "Well, once he shows up we can ask him everything we want to know."
As Ray retreated to the upstairs washroom to clean his hands Winston resumed gathering tools and sliding the tool chest back to its usual position against the wall of the garage. While gathering up the miscellaneous tools and other pieces of equipment Winston glanced over at Egon and took quick notice of the distant stare in his eyes.
"Egon, I'm sure Peter's just running late because he lost track of time."
"You may be right." Egon was trying to push aside the negative feeling in his gut, but it seemed like nothing could ease his anxiety.
The owner of the convenience store had managed to wriggle free of the ropes that bound him to the chair in his office. As he freed his arms and legs he scrambled over to the phone on his desk and dialed 911. Nervously he exited his office to pace about and take in the full extent of the damage, it was then he discovered Peter laying on the ground in a growing puddle of his own blood.
"Oh, God!" The owner almost dropped the phone as his hand began to tremble violently with fear. The operator on the end of the line caught his ear. "There's been a shooting! I was robbed and a man was shot in my store!" His words were panicked and quick. "Please, send someone!"
Peter was drifting in and out of consciousness. His body was weak and desperately needed to rest, but his mind was too stubborn to shut down. The owner's voice was muffled and impossible for Peter to make out his fear laded words. As his ears began to ring and his eyes grew heavy, the crimson stain around him began to blur and fade from sight.
Cold. Coldness seemed to be the only thing that Peter could feel. His body wouldn't move, his limbs feeling impossibly heavy and useless. As much as he tried to speak, to scream in pain, his voice simply wouldn't respond to such a basic command.
'Guess I was wrong.' Peter thought to himself as his world began to sink into blackness. 'Something did happen... Never thought I'd wish for paperwork.'
A faint ticking sound drew his attention to the watch around his wrist. The glass over the face had been cracked when he fell, but the hands were still moving.
'Egon got me this watch when we graduated.' He remembered sadly. 'My own father couldn't be bothered to even attend the ceremony... I need to get it fixed.'
His thoughts began to cloud as a boisterous weakness stole his lucidity. Just as everything around him seemed to shut down, his own thoughts steadily betraying him, he became faintly aware of a warm hand pressing down on his back and two fingers pressing against the side of neck.
The paramedics had arrived.
Voices.
Seeping through the blackness that had enveloped Peter's consciousness two voiced began to speak, not to him but about him.
"Pulse is thready." A female voice stated, her words seemed to be echoing.
'Who are you?' Peter wanted to ask but his voice was still silent. He could barely feel the two gloves fingers pressing against his carotid artery. 'You're not Janine or Dana.'
"Blood pressure is dropping." A male voice added on, his words sounded echoing and distant as well.
'Egon? No, Egon's voice is much deeper. It's not Ray or Winston either.'
"E.T.A. is five minutes." The female announced. "Have a trauma team waiting."
'Trauma team? E.T.A.? I'm in an ambulance, I should be safe.' Peter repeated the terms to himself as if to provide some degree of comfort. The blackness was returning, his mind was going to with it again. 'Guys, where are you?' A new sensation crept its way into his awareness. 'My chest... It hurts. I can't breathe... Am I... dying?'
The sound of a high pitched beep became more frantic as Peter's heart rate elevated while his blood pressure continued to drop.
The female paramedic ran the bell of her stethoscope over Peter's chest. "Sinus tachycardia. No breath sounds on the right. Collapsed lung."
In a frenzy of skilled routine and remarkable training the ambulance arrived at the hospital and was promptly swarmed by medical staff. The gurney was lowered from the back of the ambulance and rolled into the ambulance with a doctor and two nurses working in tandem with the already responding paramedic team.
The same female paramedic explained the situation to the responding emergency medical team in a tone indicative of her seasoned years and experience. "Male, mid thirties, gunshot wound to the upper back, no exit wound present."
A doctor took over the scene. Using a small penlight the doctor lifted Peter's closed eyelids and checked his pupils.
'I can still see... That's good.' Peter realized as he stared helplessly through the intense light and to the unknown face of the young male doctor who was leaning over him. 'Too bad I can't blink.'
Peter's thoughts began to quiet as the familiar blackness overtook his mind. The worried voices that surrounded him became quieter until they were entirely silent. What little feeling Peter had left in his body numbed and knew nothing more of the waking world.
The same doctor let Peter's eyes close as his gloved hand pressed two fingers against the side of Peter's neck. "Pulse is thready, B.P. is still dropping. We need to get this guy into the O.R. now!"
Egon had become increasingly worried. It wasn't uncommon for Peter to be late or sleep in, but as of graduation from college he had learned the hardships of being late and become rather punctual when making deals with his friends. An uneasy pit formed in his stomach and he knew that something was wrong.
"I'm going to go look for Peter." Egon had decided without any opinion waged from either Ray or Winston.
Ray, who had heard Egon's deep voice from the rec room one floor up walked over to the top of the staircase in time to see Egon tossing aside his white lab coat in favor of the gray jacket that matched the rest of his suit. "I'm sure he'll be back soon, Egon. Don't-"
The phone on Janine's desk began to ring. Egon was standing beside the desk and answered it with in an even tone. "Ghostbusters HQ."
Ray slowly ambled down the stairs and waited for the conversation on the phone to end before addressing Egon again.
"Yes, I am Egon Spengler." Egon confirmed with a lilt of confusion. "Peter Venkman is-" Egon's face paled although the stern expression on his face remained the same. "What happened?" Egon remained collect as he waited for his answer. "Where is he now?"
Ray's eyes widened with fear and he folded his arms across his chest defensively. Winston had stepped out of the shower and was now dressed in fresh clothes. He joined Ray who was standing a few feet from the desk.
"Ray who's on the phone?" Winston asked curiously as he took in the serious look that had been engraved on Egon's face.
Ray shook his head and shrugged his shoulders as he had no idea who Egon was talking with.
"Yes, we'll be right there." Egon slightly lowered the phone from his ear when the voice on the other end spoke up again. "What? No. He's not allergic to any medications." Egon hung up the phone and turned to his colleagues. "Peter is in the hospital."
"WHAT?" Ray and Winston asked in a collective gasp.
Winston was perturbed by Egon's reply as well as his lack of emotion. "What the hell happened? Where's Peter?"
Egon rushed toward Ecto-1 with Ray and Winston moving right alongside him. "Peter has been shot."
"Shot?!" Ray was dumbfounded. "Who shot him? Where did this- Why?!"
"I'll explain along the way." Egon pulled open the rear passenger door of the hearse and climbed in. Ray took the front passenger seat while Winston turned the key in the ignition.
Ecto-1 roared to life, her lights flashing and siren singing as the trio of Ghostbusters rushed from the safety of their firehouse and off to the hospital where their fourth team member was currently fighting for his life.
Inside the O.R. Peter had been quickly prepped for emergency surgery. Submitting to complete unconsciousness Peter was absolutely helpless as his clothing was cut away from his body, an IV inserted into the Cephalic vein in his arm to replenish lost fluids and powerful sedatives and temporary paralytics administered through the same IV. Fortunately for the wounded, dying man he was unaware of the tube that was inserted down his throat and the corresponding respirator attached to force his lungs to continue breathing in spite of the collapsed organ and pooling blood that put internal pressure in his chest.
An x-ray technician had been called, who promptly located the bullet with a single x-ray of Peter's abdomen. The bullet had entered his back just to the right of is spine and below his shoulder blade. Upon entering Peter's chest it passed by his lung, just brushing close enough to cause some damage to the pulmonary organ before it ricocheted off of a rib and lodged itself in his right kidney.
The attending doctor who assessed Peter's condition was also the surgeon on call. After scrubbing up he was at the ready with his scalpel and hovering protectively over Peter's lower chest and upper abdomen.
"This man is suffering from a single gunshot wound to the back. He's as stable as he can be at the moment." The intrepid surgeon reassured the room as asked his attending staff for approval. "Are we ready to make the first incision?"
Aside from the anesthesiologist who was monitoring Peter's sedation and breathing, three nurses were assisting the surgeon as well as a second doctor in the event of a needed consultation. The five team members all nodded confidently, trusting the surgeon wholeheartedly.
"Alright. Let's find that bullet." The surgeon placed the impressively sharp blade of the scalpel to Peter's mid abdomen and began creating a very precise incision that reach just below the bottom of his sternum to just above his navel.
Egon, Ray and Winston rushed into the hospital in a near panic. Egon singled out the first nurse he laid eyes on and began asking her about Peter.
"Excuse, me where is Peter Venkman?"
"I'm sorry sir," the nurse hadn't been one of the team members who attended to Peter. "I don't know a Mr. Peter Venkman."
Egon brushed past the nurse and spied the head nurse filing away charts at the nurses station. Ray and Winston followed Egon as the emotionally collected man continued to seek out answers for their millions of questions.
"Miss," Egon caught the attention of the nurse with his deep voice. "I'm looking for Peter Venkman. He was brought in-"
"Yes, Mr. Venkman is up in surgery." She had been apart of the team who take care of Peter. "Please sit in the waiting room, Dr. Austin will be with you shortly."
"Can you tell us what happened to him?" Egon pressed on, his patience growing thin.
"I'm sorry, but the information is privileged. I can only speak to family-"
"We are his family." Egon insisted with missing a beat. "I'm Dr. Egon Spengler. I was contacted and told to come here."
"Oh, Dr. Spengler!" The nurse seemed to suddenly recognize his voice as being the one she had spoken to over the phone. "Please, come this way. Mr. Venkman-"
"It's DOCTOR Venkman, actually." Egon interjected reflexively.
"Right, Dr. Venkman has you listed as his emergency contact. We found your number in his wallet. Are you his brother?"
Egon felt himself pause for moment, but only for a very brief moment before answering in the affirmative. "Yes. He's my brother."
"Then we'll need you to sign these consent forms." She handed him a clipboard with several sheets of documents attached. A pen was hanging by a chain attached to the clipboard. "Normally we wait for the family to give permission before we operate but his condition was already critical and deteriorating-"
"I understand." Egon took the clipboard and signed his name on the consent form, he was able to quickly read the legal document and the possible repercussions without losing focus on the matter at hand. He nearly shoved the papers back into the nurse's hands rather than handing them back to her like a civilized person. "What can you tell me about his condition?"
"Well, he's lost alot of blood and suffered a collapsed lung." The nurse began to explain. "The doctors also suspect he was suffering from other internal hemorrhaging. There was no exit wound which means-"
"The bullet is still inside Peter." Egon understood completely, his face a stoic facade that betrayed his true feelings that he kept bottled up inside.
Ray and Winston visibly flinched at Egon's words and fidgeted about nervously where they stood.
Winston finally found his voice and asked the nurse a question of his own. "Do they know how he got shot? Who's responsible?"
The nurse frowned sympathetically. "According to the police and owner of the convenience store your friend walked inside in the middle of a robbery. Wrong place, wrong time."
Ray looked psychically ill as they were brought up to speed. "So stupid..." He grumbled in a distressed tone.
"Please," the nurse motioned the three men to the nearby waiting room. "as soon as he's out of surgery someone will come and talk to you."
Reluctantly Egon took a step away from the nurse and toward the direction that she had pointed the trio. The waiting room seemed so isolated, impossibly hushed for a location that had harbored many pained souls who were left with nothing but time as their loved ones' lives hung in the balance. Winston pulled Ray along, almost forcing the most sensitive and perceptive member of the team to take a seat. Sitting down beside Ray Winston ran his hand over his face as anxiety began building in his mind.
Egon looked at his two colleagues and studied their reactions to the news with a natural, almost instinctive contemplation. Ray wore his emotions in his sleeve; the fear, the worry that ached in Ray's psyche was as plain as the paled complexion on his face. Winston however, the marine who had seen the ugliness of humankind up close and personal, managed to keep those hindering emotions concealed behind a mask of detached discipline.
Unable to stand still, let alone sit down, Egon was driven to pacing back and forth across the waiting room with an indifferent stare that counted and recounted every tile on the clean hospital floor. Keeping his hands in his pockets was the only way he could prevent himself from staring at his watch and counting the seconds. Keeping his eyes on the floor was what he needed to keep himself from staring at the clock on the wall.
Time was not an ally, but an enemy.
Hours ticked by at an excruciatingly lagging extent. In that time other friends and family members of other patients admitted to the hospital had come and gone. In that time since the arrival of the Ghostbusters two babies had been born, one grandmother had passed away, two car accident victims were admitted and six students from a local frat party had been brought in due to alcohol poisoning and other immature shenanigans.
Ray had fallen asleep, the emotional exhaustion taking its toll. With his arms folded over his chest Ray sat upright with his head leaning against the wall of the waiting room.
"Egon," Winston had grown tired of watching his friend pacing and needed him to hold still. "sit down, will ya'?"
"I'm fine where I am." Egon didn't break stride as he continued on his unseen path through the waiting room.
"Well I'm not." Winston leaned forward and grabbed Egon by his arm and finally forced him to stand still. "You've been doing that for almost four hours now."
"Three hours, forty seven minutes and six seconds."
Winston smiled at the brilliant physicist's too accurate account of time. "You've been counting, too, huh?"
Egon looked down at Winston and nodded.
"Come on. Sit down. Just, try to take it easy."
"Very well." Egon chose the vacant seat in the aisle directly across from where Ray was sitting. "Ray has been asleep for almost twenty minutes."
"Good. At least one of us is getting some rest."
Peter found himself wandering the first floor of the firehouse. He was wearing his old jumpsuit, the one that he had worn for their very first call as Ghostbusters. It took hours to scrub out the ectoplasm and slime, it took days for the smell to dissipate. Fortunately for Peter getting used to all the slime and acrid smells was all apart of the job.
It was quiet and still. Everything had a gray tone as if time had simply passed by the building without leaving a mark. Ecto-1 was parked where it belonged in the garage, Janine's desk was neat and orderly, Peter's office was vacant, Egon's lab was empty, both the rec room and the bunk room were all empty as well.
"Where is everyone?" Peter asked himself as he strolled through the old brick structure. Instinctively he looked down at his watch as if the time could tell him where everyone had gone, but he discovered that his watch had stopped. The second hand struggled to tick forward but it was unable to move. "Oh right, I need to get this fixed."
The former firehouse had made the perfect headquarters for the bold Ghostbusters over the years, but despite the extensive remodeling to accommodate their equipment the whole building still smelled of diesel fuel and rubber from the previous fire department occupants.
A 'thud' from the roof caught Peter's ear. Approaching the hatch that allowed access to the rooftop he noticed that it was unlocked. Someone was in the firehouse. Climbing the ladder that reached to the ceiling Peter pushed open the hatch and spied Ray standing near the edge, his eyes fixed upward on the few stars that managed to shine over the densely lit New York City skyline.
"Ray? What are you doing up here?" Peter approached his friendly slowly as to not scare him.
"Hey Peter." Ray was also wearing his old jumpsuit. Trace amounts of the aptly named 'mood slime' had stained into the fibers of the garment, which forced Ray to break in a new jumpsuit as a result. "Nice night, huh?"
"Sure, I guess. Why are you up here on the roof?"
"I was just thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
"About everything." He flashed Peter a sincere smile of warmth and gratitude. "It's hard to believe that we used to be crammed down in the small basement office on campus, and now... Here we are."
"Yeah... Sure."
"I never told you this, but Peter, I'm glad you got us kicked off campus. I'm glad you pushed me to take a risk on buying this place and encouraging me and Egon to continue our work. Thank you, for everything."
"Ray, what's going on? I don't understand."
"Peter," Ray reached over and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "you're dying."
"I'm... what?"
"You're in the hospital. Egon, Winston and I are all there with you. We won't give up, which means you can't give up either."
"Dying? Hospital?" Flashes of the pain that had seared his back when he was shot were revived in a painful burst of energy. He flinched and curled around himself as the pain caught him off guard. Ray's hand never left his shoulder, a friendly gesture he was all too grateful for. "That's right, I remember. I was shot. Some crazy chick shot me." He stood up straight again. "I remember now."
"And you need to hold on." Ray squeezed Peter's shoulder tightly. "We need you."
"You don't need me." Peter scoffed at the very idea. "I just sign the checks."
"No Peter, you're so much more than that."
"Right, I'm also the legal liability and sworn enemy of Peck."
Ray pulled Peter closer to the edge of the roof so they could stand side by side. "Peter, you're the backbone of the team. You're fearless, you're confident and you never back down. Without you I'd still be getting kicked around and bullied by anyone carrying a briefcase and a nice suit."
"Ray you're alot stronger than that. You know it."
"Maybe. But without you I don't think I ever would have known. Please, you're our leader. The teams needs you, don't go."
"I'll..." The pain in Peter's back radiated toward his front in his abdomen. "It feels like I'm getting stabbed..."
"Easy Peter." Ray tightened his grip on Peter's shoulder. "You can survive this. Just don't give up." Ray's hand suddenly left Peter's shoulder.
"Ray?" Peter called for his friend through gritted teeth but found that he was now standing alone on the roof. "Ray? Where did you go?"
Ray almost fell to his side as he awoke from his surprisingly deep slumber. He looked around the waiting room absolutely confused until his eyes focused in on Egon sitting across from him. Egon had his eyes shut but he wasn't asleep. His brow was furrowed as he was deep in thought, his arms folded across his chest as motionless in his chair.
"Peter?" Ray asked instinctively. "Where's Peter?"
"Still in surgery." Egon confirmed, his eyes never opening.
Winston put a hand on Ray's shoulder which caused Ray to suddenly remember his dream. "How long was I out?"
"About half an hour." Winston replied casually. "Have a bad dream?"
"Not... not really." Ray leaned forward and rested his face into his hands. "What time is it?"
"Just past eight."
"Damn."
"Yeah."
"I'm going to go get some coffee." Ray rose from his chair and slowly walked out of the waiting room. "You guys need anything?"
"No, I'm good." Winston passed up the offer in a low tone.
"No. Thank you." Egon had the same curt reply.
As soon as Ray had exited the room Winston stood up and let out a wear sigh. "I need to stretch my legs."
Egon only nodded to confirm that he had heard Winston.
Wandering down the the lengthy corridors with his head in a fog Winston couldn't keep his mind off of Peter. It seemed so stupid, so random. Peter walked in on a robbery and got shot. Blood and bullets. As a veteran of war Winston knew that the two never mixed. The smell of the hospital; the intoxicating broad antiseptic, latex and bleach concoction was enough to remind him of all the lost hours he spent waiting in hospitals whenever a friend had been injured in combat. It never got any easier.
Winston nearly bumped into a nurse as the fog in his head and the autopilot in his legs struggled to keep him grounded in reality. "Oh, I'm sorry." He apologized to the nurse and realized that she was the head nurse who had met them earlier.
"You're alright." She was used to seeing people walking about in a daze. "I take it you haven't had any update on your friend's condition?"
"No, not yet. You wouldn't happen to..."
She shook her head. "Sorry, I don't know anything more."
"Didn't think you would, thanks anyway."
"Hey, where are you heading? The only thing down that way in the surgical theater."
"The... theater." Winston had enough emergency medical training to know that the theater was an elevated viewing room for interning medical students, nurses and the occasional family member to watch a surgery being performed. "Is Peter...?"
Reluctantly she gave him an honest answer as she shook her head. "Yes. It may be uncomfortable, but if you would like to see your friend..."
"Yes, please. But, just for a moment."
"Okay, come with me." The kind nurse took Winston by the arm and escorted him into the theater. "Fortunately there's a rarely performed brain operation in the second theater, so this one is vacant."
Winston laughed a little. "Well, if they ever needed to operate on Peter's twisted little brain then that theater would be packed full with a standing room only."
The nurse gave Winston an amused smile as they entered the theater together. There were half a dozen rows of seats, each row with a dozen chairs each. They were all empty, which gave the theater an appropriately haunted feeling. Through the large pane of beveled glass that gave the theater its window Winston could see Peter laying prone on the operating table below.
His face became a stone mask of absolute prostration. He knew what he was going to find when he walked into that theater, but seeing a good friend surrounded by doctors and nurses covered in his blood seemed too implausible to be real.
"I'll leave you alone." The nurse gently pulled her arm free of his. "Take as much time as you need."
Unable to pull his eyes from the window Winston slowly sat down in the seat in the front center row. He pressed his hands together, interlacing his fingers into a single tight fist that he pressed to his chin. Leaning forward, his elbows propped up on his knees, Winston watched in a trance as the doctors below fought to save Peter's life.
Closing his eyes tightly Winston began to pray to whomever could be listening to help Peter. To help him pull through the operation and to wake up.
Fatigue won out and Winston began to drift off to sleep, his mind still focusing on Peter.
The gray atmosphere returned as Peter again found himself alone.
"Now where am I?" He asked himself as he turned and glanced around the unfamiliar room. "This isn't the firehouse." Looking down at the broken watch he sighed indifferently. The time had jumped forward by two hours, but he couldn't account for the passed time. As he shifted his gaze he spotted Winston sitting alone in a strange theater like setting. "Winston!"
"Peter." Calmly, almost indifferently he acknowledged his friend.
Peter took the unoccupied seat beside Winston and eyed him carefully. Just like Ray and himself Winston was wearing his old jumpsuit. White blemishes from the remains of Gozer's Destructor Form, the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, had marred the darker fabric of the jumpsuit. The sticky sweetness was almost impossible to remove and left the jumpsuit smelling like s'mores.
Noticing that Winston's attention was forward, through the window, Peter gazed through the glass and was startled to see himself covered in blood with attending medical personnel surrounding him.
"Winston, do you know what's wrong with me? You know, aside from the bullet in my back."
"You're struggling."
"Struggling? I don't understand."
"Your body is reacting to the physical trauma being inflicted by the surgery itself." Winston explained calmly. "You've lost alot of blood, and judging by the location of the entrance of the bullet it struck your lung which is why it collapsed."
"But... I'm still alive?"
"Yes." Winston finally looked over at Peter, a distant stare in his kind eyes which only appeared whenever he thought back to his time at war. "But you need to keep fighting."
"Winston, I'm tired." Peter confessed. "I'm not as strong as I used to be."
"That's bull and you know it Peter." Winston resumed looking forward. "You're not as young as you used to be, but you're just as strong as ever, if not stronger."
"Wish I could believe that."
"Well, believe it man. Isn't that our mantra anyway?"
Peter laughed a little and pressed a hand to his abdomen. "Don't make me laugh, it hurts."
"See? You can still feel pain which means you're still alive, and you endured the pain which means you're strong enough."
"I guess... you're..." Peter's hand reached for his chest as he suddenly began panting for breath. "C-Can't... breathe..."
"Extracting the bullet." The surgeon announced as he managed to get a tight grip on the deformed projectile between the business end of a pair of forceps. "Single bullet wound, single bullet located."
The alarms on the monitors began sounding off in a high pitched whine.
"Abdomen is filling with blood." The surgeon observed as he dropped the offending bullet into a basin along with the rest of the surgical tools.
Nurses began packing Peter's abdomen with gauze in an attempt to absorb and stem the bleeding while the surgeon put a clamp on the damaged vessel.
"B.P. is still dropping." One of the nurses noted as she continued to pack the wound.
There was single high pitched whine as Peter's heart began to fibrillate and beat out of its healthy rhythm.
"Ventricular fibrillation." The assisting doctor called out as he grabbed onto the paddles of the defibrillator in the emergency crash cart. "Charging to three hundred joules." He pressed the paddles down on Peter's chest, one near the center of his chest and the other at the apex of his heart. "Clear?"
"Clear." The staff confirmed in a chorus.
Peter's body arched upward from the table as the life saving jolt of electricity was delivered through the paddles and into his heart. His body dropped back down, hard, as the surge passed through without affecting his heartbeat.
"No change."
"Charging again." The doctor warned as he returned the paddles to Peter's chest. "Clear?"
"Clear."
For the second time Peter's body arched violently as the electrical surge attempt to correct his unsteady heart rate. As his body reconnected with the table beneath the screeching monitors resumed beeping in a calmer, quieter rhythm.
"He's back." The doctor declared with a relief stricken tone.
From above in the theater Winston witnessed his friend's struggle with death through the large window. He quickly looked to his side where he could have sworn Peter was sitting, but saw that he was still alone.
Unable to deal with the brutally reality below Winston took his leave of the theater. His legs were shaking after watching such an ordeal, a layer of cold sweat covering his skin and making him shiver subtly as he exited the unoccupied room.
The head nurse saw Winston and instinctively went to comfort him. "Are you alright? Is your friend okay?"
"Y-yeah. He's hanging in there." Winston ran a trembling hand over his short hair. "But it was close."
"I see..." The nurse knew that meant Peter had crashed on the table and needed to be resuscitated. "Come with me. I know where we can get the best coffee in this whole place."
From his seat in the waiting room Egon could sense Ray's return without having to open his eyes or ask. Ray reclaimed his seat across from Egon with a steaming cup of hot coffee clutched between his hands.
"No word on Peter, I take it." Ray commented dryly as he took a sip of the coffee, grimacing at the taste of the bitter, cheap coffee provided by the hospital.
"Not yet."
Egon had always resided in his own mind easily dismissing the world around him. Whenever he felt overwhelmed or emotionally uneasy he often retreated into his own thoughts like a personal sanctuary.
"Where'd Winston go? I had offered to get him some coffee." Ray took another sip then set it aside without a second glance. "I think he was smart to say 'no'."
Egon slowly opened his eyes and watched Ray's face through his clear lenses. "Winston needed to walk."
"Don't blame him." Ray leaned back in his chair and tried to stretch a knot that formed between his shoulders. "These chairs are terrible."
Egon didn't respond to the joke or even to acknowledge Ray's attempt to lighten the heavy mood.
"So, how are you doing Egon?" Ray asked his friend, although he didn't expect to receive any direct response of an emotional nature from the reserved physicist.
"I'm doing well." Egon's reply was flat, if not bitter.
"I gotta' ask. How did you know that something was wrong?"
"Pardon?"
"With Peter." Ray continued. "How did you something was wrong?"
Egon didn't react to the question. He stared intently at Ray as if he could possibly read the engineer's mind.
"I mean, I know that you've known Peter longer than I have. I know you two have been friends for years, but I had no idea that Peter had listed you as his next of kin."
"To be honest, Ray," Egon sat up straighter in his chair as if he had been caught in the middle of a scheme. "neither did I."
"Really?" Ray was shocked by the admission. "But when the nurse asked if you two were related-"
"It was the only way to to get an answer." Egon explained coldly. "And as Peter's emergency contact I had the legal authority to do whatever was best for him while he's unconscious and unable to make any decisions for himself."
"Easy Egon, I wasn't accusing you of anything."
Egon could see the hurt etched in Ray's face and a twinge of guilt pierce his own heart. "Ray, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so defensive. It's just difficult to..." He trailed off as the idea of opening up about his and Peter's shared darkness was almost too painful.
"Egon, I'm your friend. And Peter's." Ray rose from his chair and sat down again in the seat right beside Egon. "Tell me. I'm worried."
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, to compose his waning emotional resolve, Egon disclosed a painful secret that until that night only Peter had known about. "As you know Peter has no siblings, his mother has passed on and his father is a deadbeat..."
Ray nodded softly as he listened intently.
"Well, my own family life wasn't that much better."
"You said you never had any toys as a kid, so I'm not exactly surprised."
"My family issues go deeper than a neglected childhood. My parents we never openly affectionate toward each other, let alone me. My mother never approved of my interests and my father had disowned me for not following in his footsteps."
"Oh, wow, Egon..." Ray didn't know what to say in that moment.
"Until I befriend Peter I had no family to speak of. When he told me about his own childhood I finally understood why we were able to become friends despite our very different personalities and levels of dedication." Egon cleared his throat for a moment as the emotional pain was starting to choke him up. "Beyond our outward personalities, we are deep inside kindred spirits."
"You saw a piece of yourself in him." Ray was beginning to understand the bond shared between Peter and Egon. "And he saw himself in you. Like you two were..."
"Brothers."
"Egon, why didn't you ever tell me this before?" Ray was genuinely moved by how deep Peter and Egon's friendship reached. "You don't have to keep this pain to yourselves, you know! I lost my parents when I was a teenager and my siblings hate me! I know a thing or two about family drama and feeling ostracized!"
"It was not your burden to bear."
"Egon, we're friends and I think of Peter as a big brother myself." Ray laughed to himself. "He always looked out for me and kept other people on campus from trying to take advantage of me."
Egon hadn't considered the close bonds that he and Peter had forged with Ray over the years. It was true, Peter often acted like a big brother who was protecting his family from bullies. The stubborn psychologist could probably tell them the exact term for their familial like bonds, but never did just to keep the others in the dark for his own amusement.
In the following moment of silence Winston returned to the waiting room and rejoined his colleagues. He had steadied himself and managed to veil the unsettling emotions that were now plaguing him. In an attempt to clear the bloody images from his mind Winston addressed his friend's with a noticeably low tone of voice. "Any updates?"
"No, not yet." Ray could tell that something was bothering Winston. He gave Egon a glance to see if he had noticed it as well, and he had. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just..." Winston didn't want to tell them about watching Peter clinging to life on the operating table. Fortunately he was always quick on his feet and gave them a plausible response. "Being in hospitals bring back bad memories, that's all."
"I see." Ray was always as sympathetic as he empathetic. "I can understand that."
A doctor in blood stained blue scrubs and a surgical mask over his face walked into the waiting room. "Are you acquainted with Dr. Venkman?" He asked the waiting trio.
"Yes." Egon rose from his seat and stood before the surgically garbed doctor. Ray and Winston stood together behind Egon as the three men anxiously awaited to here some good news. "I'm Dr. Egon Spengler, this is Winston Zeddemore and Dr. Ray Stantz."
"Hello, I'm Dr. Austin. I've been tending to Peter."
"How is he?" Ray spoke up in a slightly shaking voice.
"He's alive." Dr. Austin's words were calm and steady. "But he's not out of the woods yet."
Ray sighed with relief as Winston put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank God..."
Egon resumed speaking with the doctor. "What is his current condition?"
"We removed the bullet and repaired the damage to his right lung, the bullet had just managed to pierce through the lower lobe and caused the lung to collapse. The bullet was deflected by his rib and lodged itself into his kidney, but the organ was salvaged." Dr. Austin continued to speak calmly as he explained the full extend of Peter's physical injuries. "He's lost a substantial amount of blood and has had several transfusions to restore his blood volume."
"Is he... Is he conscious?" Ray asked uneasily.
"No. Unfortunately he will be unconscious for a while. He's in a coma."
"Can we see him?" Egon pressed determinedly.
"He's still in post op. When he's been moved to recovery you can see him, but only for a few minutes." Dr. Austin extended his hand for the attentive Dr. Spengler as a sign of respect. "We'll keep a close eye on him, but we're optimistic that he'll make a full recovery; in time."
"Thank you, doctor." Egon shook the man's hand and watched as the skilled surgeon took his leave.
Ray ran his hand through his messy hair. "Peter's alive. That's something."
"Yeah, he's hanging in there." Winston agreed. "I just wish we could do something to help him.
A police officer tentatively approached the gathered trio. A man of tall stature that rivaled Egon and dark brown eyes with equally dark hair, the officer carried himself with a confident stride that can only come from a man who exudes years of on-the-job experience.
"You three are Ghostbusters, right?" The officer was certain he was addressing the correct group of people. "I'm officer Summers."
"Yes, we're the Ghostbusters." Egon confirmed as Ray shook Summers' hand. "Do you have any information on the shooting."
"I do." He then shook hands with Winston and Egon before continuing. "We have the shooters in custody. Security camera footage as well as the testimony from the store owner will ensure that both of the thieves are sent to prison for a long time."
"Thieves?" Ray was a little surprised to know that there was more than one shooter involved. "How many were arrested?"
"Two." Summers looked sorely disappointed. "Teenagers. They robbed the store for petty cash. The boyfriend took the owner into the back office to open up the safe, while the girlfriend was supposed to be on the lookout. She didn't notice your friend until after he walked inside, then she panicked when he saw her face."
"Aw man," Winston let out a disheartened sigh upon learning about the two shooters. "they were just kids."
Summers shared the same deep disappointment that was palpable in Winston's voice. "Depending on how you look at it, fortunately or unfortunately, these two kids will be tried as adults."
"Damn." Winston was torn between wanting justice for his friend and not wanting to see two kids have their lives ruined before they really had a chance to live.
Officer Summers decided it was time to take his leave. "I hope your friend recovers, please, take care."
"Thank you officer." Ray shook Summers' hand one last time before he departed. "At least we know that his shooter is behind bars."
The head nurse approached the three Ghostbusters and gently put her arm on Winston's arm. "Mr. Zeddemore, Dr. Venkman has been moved into recovery. Dr. Austin has told me that you wished to see him."
"Yes, please." Winston eagerly answered in the affirmative.
"Follow me, please."
The trio of able bodied Ghostbusters followed the nurse in stunned silence as she led them to their injured friend. It was all so random, so pointless. Peter had been shot by a couple of kids just for some petty cash at a convenience store. He was only supposed to be gone for a few minutes, all he wanted to do was get out of the firehouse and do something other than file paperwork all afternoon.
"He's in here." The nurse pushed open the door and allowed the three friends to enter. "You can only stay for a few minutes."
Dr. Austin was standing over Peter. He was listening to Peter's chest with his stethoscope while giving instructions to the second nurse who was assisting him. A cardiac monitor was attached to his chest. A ventilator was helping him to breathe while his repaired lung healed. A metal IV stand containing bags of saline and blood was tucked away beside the bed.
Beside the bed was a table that held Peter's gathered personal items. His wallet sat undisturbed beside the telephone while his broken watch rested beside the wallet, it's broken face symbolic of the waiting game that the three friends would now have to endure together.
Peter himself looked lifeless in the large bed. He was pale, his face was drawn with dark circles under his closed eyes. Heavy bandages were wrapped around his torso and chest to protect the surgical incision from infection. His arms were limp at his sides, his left arm still harboring the IV and the right arm had a blood pressure cuff wrapped around the bicep.
Egon, Ray and Winston were statuesque as they stood together just through the door.
"Peter?" Ray whispered his friend's name, almost afraid to speak as if his voice could somehow be enough to harm Peter while he looked so fragile.
Dr. Austin looked up as he removed the stethoscope from his ears. "His breathing is fine. It's possible for an infection to set due to the resulting damage to his pulmonary tissue, so we'll be monitoring him closely for the next forty-eight hours."
Egon stepped forward and stared down at Peter's expressionless face.
Dr. Austin nodded to the accompanying nurse. "We'll give you ten minutes."
Ray and Winston slowly approached the bed, unsure of what they should be doing in that moment.
"He looks so..." Ray was struggling to find the right words. "frail. Never thought I'd see him like this." Lightly he placed his hand on Peter's left arm. "He feels cold."
"He lost alot of blood." Egon reminded him in a calculated scientific manner.
"Peter?" Ray steadily applied more pressure to Peter's arm without hurting him. "Can you hear me? We're all here for you. Me, Winston and Egon. We're going to help you get through this!"
Winston appreciated Ray's encouragement during the bleak moment. "Yeah man, the sooner you wake up the sooner we can take you home."
Discreetly Egon wrapped his fingers around Peter's right wrist and counted his pulse. Egon didn't discredit the cardiac monitor that was keeping track of Peter's heart rate, he simply needed to feel Peter's pulse beating under his fingertips as an undeniable reassurance that Peter was in fact still alive.
"I'll stay with him." Egon decided as he removed his hand from Peter's. "Go home for the night, I'll call if something changes."
"What? No!" Ray protested like a little kid who was fighting bed time. "We're staying here with you."
"Ray," Egon gave Ray a reassuring glance. "there's nothing you can do right now. Go home and get some sleep."
"Come on Ray, we should go. We'll be back in the morning." Winston seemingly sided with Egon.
"...But!" Ray adamantly refused to walk away.
"Egon's right." Winston admitted without disclosing why. He was tired and needed to get out of that hospital, but he didn't want to abandon Peter either. With Egon staying behind he could rest easy without feeling like he was leaving a good friend all along. "We need to get back to the firehouse. If something supernatural is going down in the city we still need to handle it."
"I guess you're right." Ray acquiesced with a heavy heart. "It's just so frustrating. Stay here with Peter or go protect the city?"
"I know." Egon gave Ray's an uncharacteristically kind glance. "But right now the best thing you can do to help Peter recover is to continue to help the city while he's down."
"Okay, we'll go." Winston gave Egon a stern look. "But if ANYTHING happens, whether it's good or bad, call us. Alright?"
"Agreed."
"Come on." Winston took a step back but didn't take his eyes away from Peter. "We'll see you tomorrow Peter, hang in there man."
Ray reluctantly lifted his hand away from Peter. "See you in the morning, Peter. Rest easy." Following Winston from the room he gave Peter one last sympathetic glance over his shoulder be walking through the door.
Egon sighed with a heavy fatigue as he watched Peter's chest slowly rise and fall with each of his weak breaths.
"Nothing is ever easy with you, is it Venkman?" Egon pressed a hand to his chin as his nerves finally caught up to him. Pulling the guest chair from the far wall over to the side of the bed Egon sat with his friend with no intent of leaving for the rest of the night. "I'm sorry Peter. We're supposed to watch each other's backs, but I wasn't there."
With a faltering touch Egon put his hand over top Peter's and just kept the contact constant. It was difficult for Egon to allow himself to get close to anyone. Having an emotionally neglectful childhood made it a challenge for Egon to interact with other people, but having Peter, Ray and Winston in his life had given him a family that he never had. A family he never knew he wanted, a family that he never knew he needed.
"Please Peter, wake up." Egon closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He tried to regain his emotional fortitude but the strain of keeping his feelings restrained was too taking for such a logical, austere mind. "If I lose you I don't think I can continue on as a Ghostbuster. You're the strength that keeps the company from caving under pressure."
Egon watched as Peter remained completely still in the bed. Laying idle was something that Peter Venkman was never known to do. A dynamic man brimming with energy should not be as inert as he was on that night. It was painful to see.
Looking past Peter's drained face Egon noticed the broken watch on the table. The damaged object had survived countless busts and close calls with the paranormal, but a sudden drop to the floor was all it took to break the glass over the face.
A rogue tear formed in Egon's eye. It managed to escape and roll down his cheek much to his dismay. Wiping away the tear Egon realized that in all the years he had known Peter he had never felt more accepted. His own family disowned him. Egon never had the chance to gain any type of closure at his own father's funeral, seeing as he was not welcome.
A wracking sob shook his body unexpectedly and his breath hitched in his chest. Egon bowed his head down and rested his forehead on the edge of Peter's bed, his hand automatically tightening around Peter's as his repressed emotions finally conquered his reserve.
Dr. Austin had returned to the room to usher the Ghostbusters away, but upon seeing Egon silently weeping at Peter's bedside he decided to not disturb the two friends. Shutting the door quietly Dr. Austin left the two remaining Ghostbusters in peace.
Exhaustion overtook Egon's body as emotional turmoil overtook his mind. Falling asleep with little resistance Egon showed no signs of leaving.
Peter found himself wandering alone through a gray room for the third time. This room was filled with large metal cabinets that lined the the cold, tile wall. In the center of the room was a large metal table with a sink, a rolling stand, and many surgical tools neatly lined up on a tray on the stand. Laying across the metal table itself was a disturbingly humanoid shape that was covered by a white sheet. A body. It's left hand was partially uncovered, revealing a watch with a cracked face around the wrist.
"Is that..." Peter looked down at the watch on his own wrist and realized that two watches were in fact one in the same. "It's me."
The sound of footsteps approaching the table caught Peter's ear. Looking toward the source he spied a tall man wearing glasses in a white lab coat approach the table. The man had dark hair, dark eyes full of curiosity and a lanky build.
"Egon?" Peter whispered as he remembered the first time he met the brilliant physicist, before he switched his focus from medicine to physics. Egon had been a loner on campus, only speaking when necessary. He and Peter had been roomed together for their first year at college and it took two full semesters before Peter was able to get the reclusive man to finally talk.
Initially Egon focused his studies to medical science to aid in his additional studies of the paranormal, but Peter could see that medicine, while a subject that Egon was well versed, his true passion revolved around physics. When Peter asked why Egon wanted to be a doctor the answer wasn't one either man was expecting.
The shared memory suddenly came into view, as if it were playing on the screen of a movie theater.
The old dorm room came into view, the two lofts across from each other, the shared computer sitting between, the old TV sitting on the broken down table, a record player with Pink Floyd's 'Dark Side of the Moon' playing nonstop, the bright green shag rug that carpeted the space between the two lofts and the two roommates who sat on the floor with their backs pressed up against their respective lofts, with two twelve packs of beer sitting on the floor at their feet.
Peter and Egon, once more in the early twenties, sat across from each other with a beer in their hands. The semester had come to an end and thanks to Egon's tutoring both men managed to pass their exams. What should have been a night of celebration had turned into an impromptu therapy session when Egon noticed that his roommate was dangerously depressed, if not on the verge of making an irreversible decision.
'I don't want to be a doctor of medicine,' Egon had confessed in private as he and Peter spend the night in their shared dorm room surrounded by beer cans; some full many more empty. 'however my father does. He expects me to continue on the Spengler legacy with contributions to medical science.'
'But you don't.' Peter succinctly deduced as he eyed his newly acquired friend with a keen curiosity. 'And working in medicine doesn't make yo happy, does it?'
'No.' Egon admitted, his voice weighted with doubt. He opened a can of beer and downed a stunning amount considering the man never partied, let alone drank.
'Then switch your major. Egon, you're the only person I've ever met who actually enjoys physics. Hell, if it wasn't for your help I would've flunked that class day one! You need to do what makes you happy pal,' Peter paused as he took a sip of beer. 'and anyone who says otherwise is a narcissist.'
'You learn that term in class today?' Egon joked in response to Peter's warm encouragement.
'Narcissism was covered last semester, this year is nepotism!' Peter grabbed another beer and tossed one more over to Egon, who caught it clumsily. 'Egon, go apply yourself to physics and be happy. I have your back, don't worry about it!'
'It would be more productive toward my education if I was able to fully apply myself to a subject that I found exceedingly more interesting.'
'There you go!' Peter held out his beer in a toast. 'To productive application!'
Egon reciprocated the gesture as the two men downed their fresh beers. 'Thank you Venkman. Tomorrow I will switch my classes. I'm sure I can catch up on the material if I'm given a minimum of four hours of undisturbed time to study.'
'No problem.' Peter burped as he crunched the empty beer can in his hand, tossing it over his shoulder. 'I'll be passed out on the floor if you need me.'
The memory faded from sight, leaving the room in a flash.
Peter watched distraught as his friend lay his fingers on the end of the sheet and begin to lift it up.
"Egon, stop!" Peter stepped forward and put his hand on Egon's arm. "Don't look under there. I'm not ready, I'm not dead yet."
Egon stopped what he was doing, letting go of the sheet and stepping back. "I'm glad."
"I'm trying to pull through but it's hard. It's alot harder than I could have ever imagined."
"Come on Venkman, you're not one to give up just because things get tough."
"Well, people change."
"Not you." Egon's voice was firm as if he were stating an irrefutable fact to a skeptic. "If you gave up when things become too challenging you wouldn't have made it through school. If you gave up when things became too obstructive then you never would have been able to talk Ray and myself into going in business. If you gave up when things became too intense or uncertain then you never would have lead the charge against Gozer or Vigo."
Peter smirked a little. "You keeping track of my progress Egon?"
"Someone has to keep an eye on you." Egon jested as a sly smile creased over his otherwise stoic features. "You look out for us, we look out for you. Besides, we're brothers, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember." Peter looked down at the broken watch on the arm of his body laying on the table. "It's nice to have family that isn't crazy or in jail."
"Peter, we've spent time in jail and we were temporarily committed, so don't get too proud of our accomplishments."
Peter laughed again, his hand wrapped protectively around his abdomen. "Ouch, I thought laughter was the best medicine."
"Peter," Egon's voice was serious again. "you need to pull through. Ray, Winston and I cannot continue the team without you."
"Egon anyone with one working hand and one functioning eye can use a particle thrower. Filling my place-"
"That's the thing Peter, I'm not talking about filling a vacancy for the sake of four members on a team, I'm talking about everything you bring to the team just by being you. You're irreplaceable."
Peter felt a twinge of belonging in his heart that warmed him from the inside out. "Thank you Egon. You're a good friend." He extended his hand and held firm as Egon accepted. "I'll see you on the other side."
Egon was vaguely aware of someone resting their hand on his shoulder. Sitting up slowly he looked into the worried face of Ray who had gently roused him from his sleep. The dream seemed all too real, almost as if he and Peter had shared an out of body experience.
"Sorry to wake you, but you were out for a long time." Ray explained as he removed his hand from Egon's shoulder.
"He was unconscious all night." Egon simply responded as he gained his bearings.
"And all morning, and all afternoon."
Egon was a little confused by Ray's statement. "I do not understand."
"Egon, you were asleep when we got here this morning, and that was about six hours ago."
"What time is it now?"
Winston was leaning against the wall opposite from where Peter's bed was positioned. He answered casually as looked down at his own watch. "It's almost four in the afternoon. Kind of glad he's still out. I can't imagine how much pain he might be in."
"I slept for almost..." Egon remembered the time on his watch from the previous night when he counted Peter's pulse. He ran his hand down the side of his face and felt a fine stubble alongside his jawline and chin. "seventeen hours."
"You must've been exhausted." Ray suggested as he stared sadly at Peter. "I know as soon as I laid down in my bed I was out like a light."
"Same for me." Winston chimed in. "Glad you remembered to set your alarm, otherwise we probably would be waking right up now, too."
"I'm still so tired." Egon quietly remarked. "It feels like something drained me of all my energy."
"We're all feeling it." Ray cleared his throat in a somewhat nervous manner. "I think this entire experience is proving to be quite a depleting ordeal."
Egon adjusted his glasses, which had been resting crookedly across the bridge of noise because of the unusual position that he was sleeping in. His hand was still resting on top of Peter's. Picking up Peter's hand Egon wrapped his own tightly around the motionless appendage. "Peter, if you can hear us squeeze my hand."
Peter didn't react, at least not consciously.
Egon remembered that handshake that he and Peter exchanged in the dream, he tried talking to Peter again certain that he could wake his comatose friend. "Peter, wake up. Come back to us."
Ray and Winston watched intently as Egon called out to their friend.
"Peter," Egon raised his voice as if he needed to speak to him from an entirely different room. "we're waiting for you. We're here, on the other side."
"Other... side?" Ray didn't understand the connotation behind Egon's words.
There was a brief twitch of movement from within Egon's grasp. "Peter?"
The twitching resumed as Peter's two forefingers weakly wrapped around Egon's hand and gave a pathetic squeeze.
"He's coming around!" Egon announced as he stood up and hovered protectively over his friend.
"I'll go get the doctor!" Winston rushed from the room to locate Dr. Austin or even a nurse.
Ray joined Egon beside the bed excitedly. He returned his hand to Peter's arm and held tight. "Come on Peter, open your eyes!"
Dr. Austin hustled into the room with Winston following close behind. The good doctor checked the monitors for any sign of improvement then focuses on Peter himself. Lifting Peter's eyelids gently he checked the pupilary responses with his small penlight. "Dr. Venkman, if you can hear me I need to to move your left index finger."
Ray looked down and watched Peter's hand, waiting for any movement to stir from within the cold limb.
"Dr. Venkman," Dr. Austin repeated the command. "move your left index finger."
Egon tightened his grip around Peter's right hand as he, Ray and Winston all watched his left hand laying on the bed. A sudden muscle spasm raced through the finger as it began to lift itself upward from its relaxed position.
Ray smiled broadly as he watched life slowly returning to Peter's body. "Peter! Good to have you back!"
Egon let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding as he relaxed his grip around Peter's right hand.
Dr. Austin ran his stethoscope over Peter's chest and listened to his breathing. "He's stable," Dr. Austin eased the mounting concerns of the surround three Ghostbusters. "but he still needs the ventilator for assistance. It'll give his lung more time to heal from the surgery. We'll remove the tube tomorrow if there is no decline in his condition."
"Thank God." Winston said what they were all thinking, but didn't want to say; more or less because of their questionable occupation.
Returning his focus to Peter's eyes Dr. Austin held up his right index finger. "Dr. Venkman, I need you to track my finger. Can you do that?"
Slowly Peter's eyelids fluttered, opening fully at a languid pace. Steadily his eyes focused, his vision clearing. Eyes narrowing Peter honed in on the doctor's raised finger and stared at it.
"Track my finger." Dr. Austin repeated as he moved his finger from left to right, then up and down.
Peter's eyes managed to follow the moving finger with little difficulty, although it was clear he was slightly confused by the entire situation unfolding around him.
"Very good." Dr. Austin approved of Peter's reflexes and cognitive recognition. "Dr. Venkman do you know where you are? Blink once for 'yes'."
Peter pondered the question for a moment as he gave the room a quick once over. He noticed Winston standing behind the doctor and Ray standing beside his bed; only faintly aware of Ray touching his arm. When his eyes laid on Egon, who was clutching his hand, Peter seemed to relax a little a knew that he must be in good hands.
Peter looked back at Dr. Austin and blinked once for 'yes'.
"Do you remember what happened?" The doctor asked next.
The memory of being shot, of laying on the cold floor of the store, being carted away in the ambulance... He remembered everything. He blinked again.
"You're going to be fine. You've suffered from extreme blood loss, a collapsed lung and a penetrating wound in your right kidney from the bullet, but we were able to remove the bullet and repair the damage. You've already shown promising recovery, but you need to take it easy."
Peter gave a subtle nod to confirm that he understood everything that had happened to him. He tried to swallow but the tube still snaked down his throat made the movement next to impossible, and painful.
"Easy, you have been intubated." Dr. Austin cautioned. "You won't be able to speak or move too much, but in time you'll be able to breathe without the ventilator and move around without any difficulty."
Egon tightened his grip reassuringly around Peter's hand, while giving him a subtle nod.
"Gentlemen," the doctor addressed the three uninjured Ghostbusters who surrounded the bed. "I must ask you to step outside while I perform an exam. It'll only take a moment."
Hesitantly Egon let go out Peter's hand and laid his arm back down on the bed. Ray was just as hesitant to let go of Peter's other arm, but he too knew it was time to leave for only a moment.
Winston put his hand on Peter's shoulder briefly. "Nice to see you awake again, man. We'll be outside."
The three Ghostbusters retreated from the room and gathered in the hall. Egon was very tried, his legs shaking and his hands trembling. Ray noticed how uneasy Egon looked and intervened.
"Egon, you should go get something to eat. You look like you're going to drop at any second."
"I'll be okay."
"Nope." Winston sided with Ray this time. "It's your turn to go home. Ray will stay with Peter tonight, I'm taking you back to the firehouse."
"I assure you I am fine." Egon pressed stubbornly, not wanting to leave Peter behind.
"Egon," Ray intervened with a bemused reaction. "if you don't take care of yourself you can't very well give Venkman a hard time about him taking care of himself when he gets released, now can you?"
Unable to provide any rebuttal to Ray's claims Egon back down. "Very well."
"Come on." Winston motioned for Egon to follow. "We'll take shifts staying at the hospital. Ray will stay her tonight, I'll swing by tomorrow and then you can have another shift the day after. We can't let you take all the credit for helping Peter get back on his feet."
The ride back to the firehouse seemed to take longer than normal for the weary physicist. The hospital was only a few blocks from the firehouse but to Egon's tired eyes it felt like he was traveling from one side of the city to the other. It was a struggle to keep awake, but he managed to push through his exhaustion for a while longer.
As Ecto-1 returned to Ghostbusters HQ Egon sighed with relief. It was good to be home.
"Why don't you go take a shower?" Winston suggested as he turned off the engine. "There's some leftovers in the kitchen, I'll warm something up for you."
"Thanks, a shower sounds perfect right now." Egon stumbled awkwardly from the parked vehicle and made his way up the stairs and toward the washroom. Passing through the bunk room to reach the coveted washroom Egon paused for a moment as he stared at Peter's still neatly made bed. "It's not the same without him here."
Ray rejoined Peter in his room after Dr. Austin finished the exam. Peter's bandages were changed, giving him fresh clean gauze to protect his still healing incision. His head of his bed had been raised and Peter was sitting up ever so slightly, the tube in his throat still limiting how much he could turn his head and bend his neck.
"Hey Peter, just you and me tonight." Ray beside Peter's bed, taking the chair that Egon had used the night before. "Don't worry about anything back at the firehouse. It was quiet all last night and today."
Peter's eyes were glassy but focused. Unable to speak he gave Ray a weak little thumb's up in approval.
"I know you can't speak right now, but I was wondering... Did you... See anything while you were, you know, on the brink?"
Peter looked away from Ray and up toward the ceiling, he felt himself pale and heard the cardiac monitor respond to his sudden increase in heart rate.
"Sorry, sorry!" Ray grabbed Peter's hand and gave a gentle squeeze. "I didn't mean to upset you."
Peter looked back at Ray and returned the gesture by squeezing his hand back. With his opposite hand he pointed to Ray as if he wanted to ask the same question.
"Me?" Ray was trying to understand Peter's gesture and thought for a moment. "Did I see anything? Is that what you want to know?"
Peter blinked once for 'yes'.
"Maybe. It was... It was a very vivid dream."
Peter squeeze Ray's hand tighter.
"Do you want me to tell you?"
Peter blinked again. Yes.
"Okay, but, like I said, it was just a dream..."
The following day the tube was removed from Peter's throat and he was able to speak again, although through a raspy, hoarse voice from his throat being left raw and swollen from the tube being inserted. Winston sat with him all that day and night, the two discussing sports and the impending weather. When Peter brought up the subject of unusual dreams Winston told him of the experience he had while sitting along in the operating theater, but he kept the part about Peter being resuscitated out of the story.
When it was Egon's turn to sit with Peter again the two men reminisced about their college days and the first few months they worked together with Ray putting Ghostbusters on the map. Talking about the past seemed to be easier than trying to talk about the future when Peter was still laying in a hospital bed. However when it came to dreams Egon refused to acknowledge the subject, he was still uncertain if that he had witness was a dream or something else...
Unable to stand the sight of the broken watch on the table any longer Egon slyly pocketed the item before leaving early the next morning. The last thing Peter needed was a painful reminder of the day he nearly died.
Peter managed to avoid infection, which was a massive solace for the wary physicist who had seen Peter suffer from horrific ailments before, but it was a full week before Peter was medically cleared for discharge.
Upon his return to the firehouse he was put under strict instructions from the doctor to not do any heavy lifting or physically exert himself for one month. His remaining stitches and sutures could be removed in two weeks, but until then he was limited to remain on the second floor as walking up and down the stairs too often could exacerbate his strained abdominal muscles and cause his recovery to regress.
Ecto-1 pulled into the firehouse with Winston behind the wheel, Ray in the front seat and Peter stretched out on the backseat with an ice pack pressed to his sore abdomen.
"We're home!" Ray announced as he climbed out of his seat and opened the rear door to the hearse. Leaning down he helped Peter to carefully sit upright on the seat and ease out of the car. "Easy Peter, lean on me."
"I'm fine Ray!" Peter whined a little as he found his footing. He had been given a cane to help him balance while his core muscles healed and strengthened. "I have this thing, remember?" He waved the cane in Ray's face. "Hey, where's Egon and Janine? I kind of figured-"
Janine rushed over to Peter and gave her a firm but gentle hug. "Welcome back! I know it's hard to believe, but I did miss you!"
"I missed you too Janine." Peter waited for her to let him go. "Can you please stop crushing me now?"
"Sorry!" She released her hug and stepped back embarrassed. "Nice to see you back where you belong."
"Yeah, where I belong." He gave the interior of the firehouse an affectionate glance. "So where's Egon?"
"Here." Egon approached Peter and handed him a small box. "I took the liberty of presenting you with a 'welcome home gift'."
"Egon, you didn't have to get me a present just because I got shot. I'll take it, but you didn't have to do it!" Peter accepted the box and opened it. His cheesy grin faded as his lower lip almost quivered with emotion. "My watch."
"I had it repaired while you were recovering. I know you don't like change, so I made sure only the broken glass had been replaced, nothing else altered."
Peter happily slipped the watch back on over his wrist and gave Egon an appreciative nod. "Thanks buddy."
"You're welcome Peter. Now, let's get you comfortable upstairs." Egon coaxed Peter into walking up the stairs.
"Great, I could use a nap."
"Oh no you don't!" Janine followed close by with a stack of files in her arms. "You still have some paperwork to finish, and some new paperwork to get started on."
"Hey Egon?" Peter grinned as he leaned trustingly against the taller man as he was helped up the stairs at a calm pace.
"Yes Peter?" Egon could see the old, familiar mischievous gleam in Peter's eye again and began smirking himself.
"Shoot me!"
-The End