Janine thought the sound of that Miller-Meteor engine was the best thing she had ever heard.

Ever the thoughtful one, Winston turned off the headlights as he pulled inside, so they wouldn't shine in her face.

All four jumped out just as the car rolled to a stop, Winston killing the engine.

"I can't believe you, Winston. Actually taking the time to talk to the damn thing!" Peter said. "You've been hanging out with Ray too much!"

"Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time," Winston argued, stretching awkwardly. "How was I supposed to know it didn't speak English? Just what was it speaking, anyway?"

"Gaelic," Ray answered. "I think."

"Well, anyway, it's toast now," Peter said. "Load 'er into the old containment unit, Egon."

Janine didn't have the heart to interrupt their banter. It had been hours since Helen had disappeared, and she hadn't heard a thing. From Helen or Slimer. All she could do was sit here and pace and worry.

If Helen came out of this alive, she was going to wring her scrawny-ass neck!

Peter sauntered over to Janine's desk and picked up her pen, obviously chewed. "I take it Helen hasn't started cooking supper yet."

"It wasn't for you, anyway," Ray said off-handedly.

Janine took a deep breath. Dammit, Helen, for making me do this to him . . . "She was here. Right after you left. Dropped off the groceries and everything. Then . . . she left." She almost picked up the pen and started chewing on it again, but didn't dare with Peter standing there.

Ray had known Janine long enough to realize something was wrong. He sat the proton packs on the floor at his feet. "Where did she go?"

Janine looked at him honestly. "She got a phone call. She said it was her captain and she had to go to the station. But . . . she was lying. I just know it!"

"You couldn't stop her?" Winston asked.

"You can't stop a woman once her mind's made up!" Peter jested. "It's probably just some uber-secret police business or something."

Ray wasn't so convinced. Janine wasn't one to get overly-analytical about such things. And, she was obviously concerned. "And you . . . haven't heard from her? At all?"

Janine shook her head, wishing she could tell this man who was like a brother to her differently. "She was acting weird, Ray. She took the call on Peter's phone."

"What did she say?" Winston asked.

"I couldn't make out much. But, she was angry. And, I know for a fact, she wouldn't speak to her captain that way."

Ray's brow furrowed. "I guess I can call down there. Or go down there."

Funny, this wasn't the way this evening was supposed to turn out.

"Ray! Can you come down here for a moment?" Egon called from the basement. "I think whoever last emptied a trap into the containment unit did it incorrectly."

They all looked at Peter.

"What? I did it like I always do!" he argued.

"That's what I'm afraid of," they heard Egon mumble.

Deep in thought, Ray followed the scientist downstairs.

The phone jangled on Janine's desk. "Maybe that's her!" She answered after the first ring.

"Ghostbusters!"

The voice on the other end was gruff, and Janine could barely make out what he said at first.

"Speak up! I can't hear you over all that noise."

"I said, can I speak to Ray Stantz?"

"He's . . . ah . . .busy right now. Can I take a . . ."
"Are you Janine?"

"Who wants to know?" Janine asked, ever on the look-out for the crazies.

"This is Clancy. Helen's partner?" the man sounded exhausted. Not like the crusty curmudgeon Helen made him out to be.

Janine's eyes darted to Winston's, and he noticed her alarm. "Yeah?"

"I . . . I don't know how to say this . . . but . . ." His voice broke for a moment.

"What's wrong?" Janine said, wanting to yell at this man to spit it out.

A juicy sniffle. "Tell Ray to get down here. Helen's been shot."

Janine's stricken expression had Peter and Winston crowded around her for information.

Clancy kept talking, and Janine made a motion for them to settle down.

"She's . . . she's not going to. . .just tell him to get down here. Now. She'd want him here."

The line went dead.

After a moment, Janine hung up, the dial tone sounding final in her ears.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Winston asked, his eyes searching hers.

"It's Helen," Janine's voice was almost a whisper. "She's . . . she's at General."

"Go get Ray," was all Winston said.

But, Peter was way ahead of him, already standing in the basement door. "Ray! Get your ass back up here!"

Janine glanced at Winston and Peter. "I – I can't tell him. I can't break his heart like that!"

"Someone's got to tell him!" Peter said.

"Tell me what?" Ray asked, wiping his hands on a rag. Egon was close behind.

Egon knew Peter didn't normally have that tone of voice unless something was wrong.

Ray wasn't quite so perceptive. His eyes went from one of his friends to the other. Their expressions varied from pity from Janine to quiet understanding from Winston.

But, it didn't take him long.

"It's Helen. Isn't it?"

Janine stepped forward after all. "That was Clancy. On the phone. Helen's been shot. She's . . .she's not . . ." She willed herself not to shed any tears. She had to be strong for this man who had a heart bigger than all of theirs combined.

He was going to need it.

Ray always remembered the day they told them his parents were killed. Although relatively young, he recognized that life as he knew it was over.

And, he was right. It was one of the last times Carl, Jane and himself were all together in the same room, let alone the same city.

And, he was the only one who cried that day when the police chief broke the news to them the best way he could. Even Jane – the youngest – didn't shed a tear.

He had never felt more alone than he did that day, even surrounded by his siblings.

But, this time was different. This time, he truly wasn't alone.

And for that, Ray was thankful.

". . . she's not going to make it," Janine finally managed.

It was almost as if everything in the world slowed down at that exact moment. He couldn't move, not initially, as his mind struggled to comprehend what she had said.

Helen? His Helen? Are they sure? Maybe it wasn't her? Didn't she just go to the station to meet with the chief? Did it happen there? Did you send her out? But, she wasn't even on duty!

He hadn't realized it, but his feet had started working as his mind fumbled for an answer he couldn't possibly know. And Winston was saying something.

"Man, let me drive. I'll get you down there in no time flat." His voice was kind. Understanding.

Ray hadn't even realized he'd walked over to Ecto-1, let alone try to climb in the driver's seat.

And, he did as he was told. For once. He climbed into the back seat instead.

They were several blocks away before Ray even realized that Winston had the siren wailing as they flew towards the hospital.

Helen stared at herself. Bloody. Pale. Surrounded by what looked like half the nursing staff working frantically.

Beeping machines. Barked orders from the harried doctors.

Someone rushed by her . . . hell, no, they rushed through her!

She went back to watching the end of her life unfold, almost as if she were watching a television program. Very detached.

Should I feel sad? Angry? Confused?

Well, I AM confused.

As they cracked open her chest, Helen looked down at her shirt. Wondering why none of this even registered. Or blood.

But, her clothing was spotless.

At least the pain was gone.

"Hi, Slick,"

She turned around, somehow not surprised to see Ivan standing there. Wearing his tight blue jeans and leather jacket he always wore when he rode around on his motorcycle, driving all the girls insane.

"Hi, Ivan." It was almost like he hadn't been dead for months. Just in the next room.

Boy, this was strange.

"Dammit! Where's the heart paddles?" The physician-on-duty sounded harried, at best.

They both turned back around to watch her body being cut open, ribs spread, heart massaged.

"They don't give up. You gotta give them that much," Ivan said quietly.

"I can't feel it. Seems like . . . I don't know . . . that I would feel something."

A quiet chuckle from Ivan. "If you weren't dead, perhaps you would."

So, this was it. "Dead . . .wow. The sonovabitch got me after all."

"That's OK. Both of them are halfway to Hell by now."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "That's not where I'm going is it?"

Another chuckle. "Not unless you really want to."

Helen cocked her head and watched as some guy who didn't even look old enough to vote shocked her heart, sweat pouring down his face. "You know, I'm a little disappointed."

"Why? Expected to be met by St. Peter himself?"

Helen elbowed him in the side. "No, you idiot! It's not as satisfying as I thought it would be. Killing Gambini."

Ivan put his hands in his back pockets and shrugged. "Hindsight and all that."

"So . . . it's over?" She motioned towards the gurney and the people scurrying around it.

Ivan smiled at her patiently. A smile she remembered well. "It's over."

"But . . . there's no bright lights? No fan fare? Just . . . dead? That's it?"

"Were you expecting a ticker tape parade, perhaps?"

Helen smiled. "I missed you." Her smile faded. "But, I . . . we aren't . . .aren't stuck here? Are we?"

"You've got a lot to learn, Slick."

They continued watching the staff frantically try to revive her. By now, she was accustomed to a nurse brushing right through her.

Although, it still was weird.

"You know, you always said my impulsiveness was going to get me killed one day. Looks like your impulsive streak picked a crappy time to show up," Ivan pointed out.

Helen couldn't argue with him there.

And there was someone else she hadn't thought how this would affect, either.

Ray.

For the first time, she felt sadness. It wasn't the sadness she would feel for the situation. If she still could. Instead, it was Ray's sadness.

"I had to do it." She didn't know if she were talking to Ivan or Ray.

"Yeah, the two of you really hit it off, didn't you? Surprised the hell outta me."

"Me, too." Helen's voice was solemn. "He's not going to understand this."

"He'll have to."

"I can't . . . can't go back, can I?"

Ivan's voice was kind. "I know you love him, Slick. But, you did the right thing. And, no, you can't go back." He motioned towards her cut-open body on the table. "There's nothing to go back to."

Helen knew Ivan was right. She felt tears prick her eyes. "He's a good man."

"And, thanks to you, he can keep on being a good man." He draped his arm over her shoulder familiarly. "Let's go home, Slick. We got a lot of catch up on." He walked out the door. Or, more specifically, through the door.

With one last look at the exhausted staff, Helen followed, the sounds of the ER room fading behind her.

No one paid attention to the green ghost huddled underneath a tray in the corner of the room. Least of all, the ghosts of Ivan and Helen.

Slimer had seen this before. And, he knew there was nothing he could do.

Whimpering to himself, he stayed hidden. Janine had said to stay with her, and stay with her, he'd do.

"Hold compressions," the doctor on duty said, his voice exhausted. He snapped off his gloves. "Call it."