It's been a while. There's a running joke in the RGB community that you can cross RGB with anything. Some, well, some are too easy to do. All Ghostbusters characters belong to Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis and Columbia Pictures. All Supernatural characters belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Bros. Thank you to all for allowing up to borrow your characters to play with and sometimes return worse for wear.
"Call on your angels, come down to the city"
Christmas Eve and as usual the Big Apple was lit up and frozen over. People were bustling down the sidewalks with their usual mixture of glad tidings and grumpy jostling; hats drawn low, scarves and mufflers covering parts of faces, fur coats on display around Park Avenue and with them diamonds that glittered like snow.
A lone man clad in jeans, hooded sweatshirt and a battered Army jacket walked down the bustling streets, looking at the lights and not seeming to mind the bitter wind that blew through the open street corners.
Even knowing it wasn't safe for him to be here at this time, he chose to leave his temporary home and come here, to the middle of New York City.
The city had always held an air of wonder for him, usually because he never ceased to be amazing of how many people could fit themselves in please. The population of the city alone was larger than the population of some states. And yet, even in the never-ending crowds that by all purposes be a breeding ground for ill-will and resentment, one could always find at least one soul for which compassion was a very real practice.
And after the falling, the seemingly never-ending war, and the loss he'd suffered in this past year alone, he was desperately looking for compassion.
Down in midtown Tribeca, minutes away from both the hustle and noise of downtown Broadway and two symbols of American strength and courage, the neighborhood businesses were closing up, getting ready to spend the evening with their families.
A lone woman was quickly walking down the sidewalk, her coat bundled up tight against the winds, clutching a bag of food she'd picked up from the local deli several blocks away before they'd closed up for the holiday.
Egon had gotten a phone call from peter a couple days before letting him know he couldn't make it down for the holiday and from the sound of it, neither could Ray or Winston. Even though he brushed it off she knew it hurt him. Not having a particularly loving family, excluding his mother, Egon had grown to rely and cherish his "brothers", so not being with any of them for Christmas hurt. And honestly, going with her on Christmas to visit her family was more of a punishment for him than a help. Sometimes, it was a punishment for her.
She turned the corner and almost ran into a ragged looking man. She let out a surprised yelp and almost dropped her bag. He backed up quickly, eyes wide.
"I didn't realize there were others on the street." He said, his way of an apology. Janine hefted her bag back up.
"Not fit for anyone to be out." She answered, hunching her back against the wind. "Sorry about that, I should've been paying attention."
She looked at the man before her; jeans and battered Army jacket, seemingly not freezing his ass off. "Aren't you cold?"
He looked down at his attire with a distracted frown. "I had not realized this would be insufficient for the climate."
His voice was raspy and his language caused her to frown. "You ain't from around here, are ya?"
He glanced up at her, blue eyes shining in amusement. A corner of his mouth twitched slightly. "No. I am not, as you say, from around here."
From his look, she assumed he was a vet come home and down on his luck. She caught the haunted, weary look in his eyes, had seen it on Winston too many times and on the rest of her boys, especially after a bad job.
"You got a place to stay?" She asked.
The distracted frown came again, as if he was trying to figure out where exactly he was staying tonight. Before he could answer, Janine reached out and touched his arm. The blue eyes went back to her.
"Come on. Come in out of the cold, get yourself a hot meal and a place to stay tonight, huh?"
"Are you not worried I could be a danger?" he asked, his tone letting her know he wasn't a threat.
"Nah. I don't live alone, and trust me, I see scarier things than you on a daily basis."
"I doubt that."
"I don't." She grasped the arm she had touched and pulled him along after her. "Come on. Nobody should be alone at Christmas."
They walked from two more blocks to an old brick firehouse. The glowing sign caught him up short and she looked back at him.
"Trust me, there isn't anything in there that can hurt ya. Annoy the hell out of ya, yeah, but trust me, it's perfectly safe."
She walked to the wooden door inside the larger garage doors and unlocked it, stepping in. "Come on."
He followed her in, looking around at the large open area and the iconic red and white ambulance parked in the garage.
She crossed the large space to drop her purse and bag onto the desk and began pulling off her coat.
"I hope you like Matzo ball soup." She said, picking up the bag and heading up the metal staircase to the left. He hurried and followed after her. "Oddly, Egon loves it and with him being in such a down mood, I figured I fix it for him, kind of to cheer him up, you know?"
"I have never had Matzo ball soup." The words sounded foreign in his mouth, and although he understood what matzo was, Moses and his people had taken it during their escape from Egypt, he couldn't say he'd ever eaten it. He looked around the second floor of the firehouse, large living room with an adjacent bathroom and what looked like a spare room. Kitchen in front of him and beside that a circular metal staircase that went up to the third floor. Behind him in the large living room area was a metal cage that house what looked like a freight elevator.
"I can get you some coffee to warm you up for now. Maybe a sandwich?"
"Coffee would be nice." He answered stepping into the smaller yet homey kitchen and sat down.
He watched her pour a large cup of coffee and set it down in front of him. "Cream or sugar?"
"Black is fine." He sipped the hot liquid and smiled. Almost like home…or his temporary home.
She rolled up her sleeves and began pulling objects from the bag. "So, where you from? If you don't mind me asking?"
"Kansas." He answered taking another sip.
"You're kind of far from Kansas. How did you end up here?"
He shrugged, taking another swallow. "Needed to get away for a bit. Find somewhere peaceful."
She snorted. "This is the last place anyone should ever go to find peace and quiet."
A creepy wail echoed through the hallways and he jumped up, ready to fight.
"Jannnniiiinnnnneeee" The voice wiled again growing louder. The red haired woman sighed and began to unwrap butcher paper. In a blink a large green blob flew through the kitchen door, tongue lolling like an over excited dog, and racing towards her. She threw the sandwich that had been wrapped in the paper in the air and in one swoop, the blob caught it in his mouth.
"Go away Slimer." She ordered. The blob flew around her, trying to peek around her shoulder while he chewed the sandwich.
"Slimer, you're going to scare our guest."
The green blob turned and stopped bobbing excitedly when he spotted the guest. The man narrowed his eyes and slimmer screeched, racing out the room by way of the ceiling, leaving green slime in its wake.
"Was that…a ghost?" He asked, befuddled. She sighed nodding.
"He's harmless I swear. More like a large hungry slimy pet, rather than what people think of as a ghost."
"It wasn't human before."
"We don't think so." She turned around leaning against the counter as she eyed him. "You know, most people are more freaked out when they have their first meeting with Slimer."
"There are more things in Heaven and Earth…"
She grinned. "Shakespeare. Nice. So, I guess it would be nice to introduce myself. If you haven't already figured it out by Slimer bellowing it down the hallway, I'm Janine."
"Castiel."
"Thursday's Angel."
He blinked. "You know this?"
"Castiel was Thursday's Angel. Also the angel who was most likely to bounce the line without ever getting cast out of Heaven. I learned it in Hebrew school." She smiled. "He was always my favorite because no matter how hard he tried, he could never be quite as holy as the other angels. Made him easier to relate to." She turned back to the counter. "Your mom must have been Jewish. Or very religious."
He took another drink from the mug choosing not to answer and grateful that she didn't push.
They remained in the kitchen for a better part of an hour; him asking questions about her, her job, what the Ghostbusters really did. She answered, telling him about her sister, her parents and her life before falling into a brief silence.
"I hope you don't find it uncomfortable, but you've seen war, haven't you?"
Castiel, who'd been refilling his mug at the counter, glanced over at her.
"How are you able to tell?"
"You have that look. A haunted, worn look in your eyes. Winston has it too. When he used to live here, I saw it all the time. Didn't matter is he was laughing like a fool, it was always there in his eyes.'
He smiled kindly, sitting back down. "I have seen wars. Too many to count and I'm tired. I only wanted a day of peace before I am forced to step back into that role."
"Nothing says you have to step back into it."
He ducked his head, looking into the dark depths of the liquid. "Maybe one day I can relinquish this role, but until then…" he trailed off. A steaming bowl was set before him and he blinked, looking up at her.
"Eat." She said smiling at him. I can at least offer you a hot meal and a warm bed tonight. At least a couple of hours where you don't have to think about war or battles or lost friends."
His return smile was sincere as he picked up the spoon.
"For that, I am grateful to you Janine."
The slow clomping of shoes on metal grew louder and Janine turned towards the open doorway her smile still on her lips.
A tall lanky blond stepped through the entrance way, brow furrowing for a moment as he spotted the man, but disappearing as he smelled the soup on the stove.
"You made matzo ball soup." He acknowledged with a slight quirk of the lips.
"I know you like it and it's easy to make. Sit down, I'll fix you a bowl."
The tall man sat down at the table and looked at the stranger. "Egon Spengler." He said. "And you are?"
"This is Castiel." Janine answered, placing a bowl and spoon in front of him. "He's staying overnight. Nobody should be out in this weather alone for Christmas."
Castiel swallowed his soup and nodded towards the blond. "Hello."
Egon studied him for a moment. "Good evening. Was your mother very religious?"
Janine rolled her eyes good naturedly, placing a light hand on his shoulder. "Egon is our resident expert on everything paranatural and supernatural."
"And interesting choice to excel in given the world we live in."
Egon raised an eyebrow. "It comes in handy given the nature of our profession."
Janine couldn't believe it. In the entire city, she found the only person as well educated about the paranatural as Egon. The two men discussed a wide variety of things while they ate; covering ghosts, werewolves, witches and demons. It seemed that Castiel was a paranormal expert himself, giving Egon several ideas to at least contain ghosts unwilling to just allow themselves to be captured and sucked into the ghost traps. She sat in the third chair listening to the two men talk and mentally taking notes to try the next time Slimer tried making off with her lunch.
A loud noise below them stopped all conversation. All three looked towards the living room waiting silently. When the second noise came, Egon and Castiel stood up almost together, moving towards the living room and the stairs. Egon glanced back at Janine.
"Stay here." He cautioned. Snorting, she climbed to her feet and followed a short distance behind them.
The main garage area was dark, with the lights from the street and the small lamp on Janine's desk casting shadows around the large space. Castiel was in front, his entire frame looking like he was ready for a fight. Remembering what Castiel had said earlier, Janine picked up a tire iron leaning against the side of the stair frame and hefted it.
The closer they crept, the more they could hear whispers.
Castiel stood in front of Janine's desk and looked into the darkness.
"Show yourself." He demanded, his voice sounding strangely more powerful echoing off the high ceilings.
The noises stopped then whispering started.
"I will not ask again." Castiel's voice seemed to crackle with power through the dark recesses of the garage.
Suddenly there was a green blur and an excited screech.
"PETER!" Slimer garbled as he flew by. The sound of slime hitting a solid target followed by an agonized yowl had Egon and Janine relaxing. Janine hurried down the stairs and passed Castiel to flip the set of switches located on the wall by the old office behind her.
The lights turned on, showing two men giggling hysterically at a third who was covered with green slime and half-heartedly trying to wave away an excited Slimer.
"Slimer!" Peter Venkman yelled. "You ruined the surprise!"
"You would've been surprised when you found yourself conked with a tire iron." Janine yelled at him, brandishing the iron threateningly. "What, you guys don't know what a phone is?"
Winston grinned as he walked towards the angry redhead. He grabbed her arm and lowered the tire iron while kissing her cheek.
"Then it wouldn't have been a surprise. Merry Christmas Janine."
"Yeah, yeah. If I'da known you were coming, I could have made dinner."
"That's why we ate earlier." Ray said, bypassing Pater who was still trying to wipe slime off of him. "But we did bring food."
"Ugh!" Peter shouted, shaking his hands onto the floor. "I'm taking a shower. I'll say my hellos when I'm finished."
He stalked past everyone and towards the stairs. Egon moved quickly from his path and stood next to Janine.
"I feel gross." Peter grumbled. "Ray, ask them who our plus one is, would ya?"
The two remaining men turned to look as Castiel who was still eyeing them warily. Janine waved her hands towards the stairs.
"He's a friend. Get up the stairs and I can warm up the food while you guys catch up."
Castiel sat a bit away for the four men and watched in in awe and amusement. Four men, hunters in their own right, talking and laughing in complete relaxation. Four men who had taken up the mantel of hunter without question and from what he could gather from their talking, there were four others out there also, younger and doing the job that three of the men had retired from. Retired. Not died, killed off. Retired of their own free will. But he guessed they hadn't truly retired completely. Egon was still a mentor to the newest group of hunters in New York fighting against the ghost and monsters. And the others, he could see in their eyes, in their hearts that each one of them still had their run-ins with the otherworld beings. Janine was right; once a soldier, always a soldier.
But to sit here, free and unbothered. And Janine a woman who'd been with them for years, and apparently in a relationship with Egon, to still be alive and unworried. Wasn't she never a target for these men? Had they never once worried about her safety, that the creatures they hunted would make an example of her? He thought briefly of the women that had passed. Of Anna and Lisa, Jessica and Jo and Ellen, Linda and Meg. All women who had been too close to one or all of them and had paid the price. Yet here, in this living room, sat four men and a woman who unknowingly proved that there could be happiness in a life of a hunter. That, even for one brief moment, life could be lived, didn't have to be feared and that for every hunter that stepped away there was a new one willing to take their place. Maybe not for him or the brothers, but the others out there, there was a possibility of an ending; of an out.
And that thought brought him the peace he was looking for.
In the late evening, early morning- Christmas Morning- after all the dishes had been washed and everyone found a place to sleep and everything in the firehouse was silent, Castiel picked up his jacket and crept down the steps to the main floor. He could've blinked out, but he wasn't sure what type of protection sigils, what type of barriers were laid around the firehouse that would set off an alarm or trap him.
He was halfway down the stairs when a voice stopped him.
"How did you shut down Egon's meter?"
He turned to see Ray a couple of steps above him.
"I don't understand." Castiel said. Ray waved him towards the main floor and followed quietly.
"Egon carries a PKE meter everywhere he goes. As a being more powerful than the meter could read, it would've exploded and caused an uproar in the firehouse. If anything Slimer should've recognized you as an otherworldly being and freaked out. So, what did you do to the PKE meter?"
He tilted his head, slightly, to the right. "You know who I am?"
Ray gave him a half-hearted grin. "Castiel. Garrison soldier, Angel of the Lord. Rumor has it you successfully took over Heaven for a bit before disappearing. What I'm trying to figure out is what's you're doing in New York City on Christmas and here no less."
"How do you know who I am?"
"Know a guy who comes to me for textbook help every once in a while. Goes by the name of Garth. Kind of an idiot but he's trustworthy. Mentioned you and your partners a couple of times, so I did some digging. Thanks, by the way, for averting the Apocalypse, but you still haven't answered my question."
"I am…atoning." Castiel answered. "There is currently a war going on between the angels as well as a battle for Hell and in between the two fronts are clashing. I am tired of fighting my brothers and sisters who seemed to have forgotten their purpose. I am tired of friends and loved ones dying and not being able to save them. I am tired of the bickering and the lack of trust within my own camp, no matter how well deserved it may be. I wanted…" he closed his eyes a moment before opening them again and looking at Ray. "I wanted one moment where I could find peace. For one person to show compassion without an ulterior motive. I needed validation that this world is worth fighting for."
Ray nodded. "And did you find it?"
Castiel smiled. "I did. From the most unlikely source."
Ray nodded. "Good. We are still worth fighting for. It may seem that there is murder and death and hatred all over, but in all that darkness, there is always one small speck of light trying to shine."
"As I have discovered this evening." He answered.
A moment of silent understanding passed between them before Ray changed the subject. "The building isn't protected from angels."
"It should be."
"I'll look into that. But that means you don't have to sneak out the front door."
Castiel nodded. "Thank you Ray. And tell Janine, thank you."
With the sound of fluttering wings the man was gone, leaving Ray to stand alone in the garage. He smiled. "Merry Christmas, Castiel."