Normal disclaimers.
Harold Ramis and Dan Akroyd own the characters, I believe.
Note that there is slight, slight, slight hints of Ray/Egon. Slightslight.
Slight. Did I say slight? And you have to squint really, really, really hard. This is quite post-Ghostbusters I and II, about three years post. Goes through all the events leading up to the intro.
He looked around the dusty laboratory, looking more like when they first got it.
He was the only one left. It felt like they were back with the lawsuit on their asses, preventing them from doing anything again. It felt so weird, to be here alone, as he had been for the past year. It felt like he was back in the psychiatric ward, except he really was crazy.
VVVVVVVVV
Thinking back, it all really started to go downhill after business got back. Ghosts were everywhere, and there was bound to be something that was a little too..well, scary, for lack of beter words, for some of the members to handle. Louis was the first to leave the team after an incident, saying he couldn't work under these conditions, couldn't handle all of it. Even after all the stuff with Vigo, poor Louis had to go out.
It wasn't a hug deal, that things. I mean, it sort of was..it was for Egon, in any case. For the rest..they laughed about it and said it was good riddance. It left the more sensible of the remaining four a little uneasy.
If that had happened once, who's to say it can't happen again? And again?
However, the scientist's thoughts were put aside as Dana and Peter finally tied the knot, the man taking on more responsibility now that he also had a child to help worry about. Oscar was always smiling after that, happy with his new dad and his mom being a little happier and having less stress.
That didn't mean that Peter shirked his duties as a Ghostbuster, though. Nah, he came as often as he could, still with the spry attitude and the stupid jokes that everyone still seemed to think were the height of hilarity. Sure, Egon didn't find them especially funny at some points.
Things were good for a couple months.
Then..that..that happened.
It was like any other call, so they thought. Poltergeist activity, full body manifestation. It was like every other stupid thing they were met with.
So they thoughts.
Winston..god, Winston went up to trap him, and..
The poltergeist managed to throw something at him, a vase, right at his head. He kind of just fell backwards and hit hit head on the corner of the table, again.
The blood..
The blood was everywhere.
As Egon had the most experience with human problems, he ran to the side of his friend, while Peter and Ray went after the ghost.
Winston had a sort of bleary and awkward smile about his face, like he didn't know he was bleeding and dying. Like he didn't know he was going to become the thing he hunted, if...well..if he wasn't really at rest.
But, he seemed fine with it all.
And he died on that rug. On the beige rug with the big crimson stain from the blood.
Peter managed to crack a joke about that, however, causing a major ruckus in the fire station that night. Egon had yelled that it wasn't fucking funny, that there wasn't anything funny about his friend dying, and they all should've seen it coming. He broke down, and Ray was there and good for an embrace while Peter went back to his wife.
The funeral had been even worse, though Egon managed to keep a stony outlook on it all. He managed to keep strong for this, for Winston Zeddemore's funeral. Pretending that it wasn't him going in the ground, that it was a bunch of sand and the fact that Ray and Peter were crying, Ray on his shoulder and Peter with Dana and Louis, that bastard, even came. When it was over, they got a call in again, and had to go out on the job.
VVVVVVVVV
Peter and Dana didn't have the most stable relationship as husband and wife. It was a known fact that Peter was a ladies' man, to say the least, and he wasn't incredibly faithful. The oddest part of his infidelity was his accusations of hers, just for the fact she was still in the orchestra. Peter was paranoid that she would have another child with another orchestra member, instead of him, though the paranoia was simply just ludicrous. Egon and Ray warned him about that, warned him that Dana would never do anything to him. They also warned him to be careful about running around with other women.
Peter didn't listen, and that was undoubtedly his downfall.
Dana divorced him a year-and-a-half after their marriage. He was distant with them for aout three weeks, until he finally announced he was taking his leave from New York.
That left Ray and Egon as the only surviving Ghostbusters, something that would be good.
They had always been the best of friends, and they ort of made it as paranormal investigators, by themselves. They had designed everything, after all, and they could get through together. As best friends, as there was no bond stronger than that.
The months dragged on like that, however. Six months of living in the firehouse with but one person, two closets with uniforms. It was like it had been in the beginning, minus Peter, minus the usual comic relief. It seemed so..stiff like that. Egon had never been a comedian, and Ray tried, lord, did he try.
He had been looking for a job for a while, however, in secrecy. Ray didn't think he could staylike this for too long, despite the fact that they were making good money..it just wasn't..good for him. It was bringing back too many memories.
Despite the fact Ray promised he'd never leave Egon, promised him with a hug each time. He even dared to claim the other scientist's mouth once or twice, as if promising he'd stay despite the guilt welling up in his mind. He knew he was just digging his own grave with each embrace, but Ray didn't care then. He was being selfish, he knew it, but he could give a shit about how hurt he was going to end up making Egon.
He picked up his stuff and left six months after Peter left, a year after Winston died, two years after their triumph with the Mayor and the rest of New York City.
VVVVVVVVV
Egon reflected on those events with nothing but the dusty old beakers and broken down equipment as his companions, laughing to himself as he put his face in his hands, setting his glasses aside. Ray had left a year ago, he just packed up and left without so much as a goodbye. He was apparently working at a college and things were good for Ray.
Peter had left to another state..who knew what had happened to him.
Louis went off to do his own thing, apparently wrote a book.
Dana got married to an orchestra member. Apparently the one who was the father of her son.
And that left Egon by himself, lonely, incomplete without the rest of his friends. He gulped as he looked out the window, half-expecting to see them all coming back as he had thought every day for the past year. The street was blurred, though not just because of his glasses being off. His eyes were filling with tears, the modus operandi of every day, fingers twisting into curly black hair, though not entirely black. There were grey hair intermingling from age and from lack of care and lack of life. Maybe even from all his experiences with ghosts.
After a while, Egon fumbled with his glasses, knocking over a box of Chinese food from last week, as he hadn't been eating properly. No one was there to remind him to or to make him laugh during dinner, so he found no need to eat. There was a nick in his glasses from a run-in with the wall when it had been all too dark, though he didn't bother going to get them fixed. No one was there to bug him about it or tell him he was looking crazier because of it. Mad scientist-esque, a la Gene Wilder or something.
He stood up from the rickety lab stool, brushing invisible grime off of the once-white coat. shuffling off to the beds. There were still five of them, four of them made, the last one a mess. Probably from a few days ago, as Egon's sleeping habits were erratic again, varying daily. He swore each night he could hear footsteps or someone sliding down the pole each night, maybe Janine screaming at them or reminding him that she was there, but she wasn't anymore. She had left. Along with all the others.
And he was alone.
But..he'd always..sort of been alone.
It had just taken his last salvation leaving for him to realize it.
And maybe it would take the last salvation coming back to realize that no one is alone.
Egon swore it was an illusion, maybe a replaying of memories again as Ray came through the door with a crate of his stuff, saying he had quit his job because it wasn't working out. He took one look at the pathetic bag of bones that was Egon Spengler in front of him, gaping with messed hair, cracked glasses, and a smudged labcoat. Thinning, poor, Egon Spengler.
Ray dropped the milk crate, one of his books flopping up and landing gracelessly on the floor, skidding until it hit a piece of glass discarded. He threw his arms out and around the poor shell of a former Ghostbuster, embracing him close, feeling like a fucktard for ever leaving. They were all fucktards, too..because they never listened to Egon in the first place.
Fuck.
He tightened his arms around the scientist, feeling a meager returning of the hug, as well as sobs muffled against his shoulder. A look around the fire station caused Ray to feel his chest tighten, letting out a slow exhale. He should've seen it coming, should've seen that Louis was a wimp, Peter was unfaithful, Winston was always supposed to die, Egon was supposed to cry against him.
Everything's eventual.
Be gentle. First attempt at Ghostbusters. xD;
