Chapter Two
Peter watched Ray as he moaned and sighed when he reached out to feel Ray's forehead. He was burning up. "Hurry guys! Please hurry." He sighed again, knowing the guys were doing their best. "I need to get some water into you, pal, and I'm not sure how to do it without you choking, so I'm going to have to lift your head." Peter said.
Peter grabbed the water bottle that he had and lifted Ray's head. Carefully, he poured water inside Ray's mouth, watching him carefully to make sure he wouldn't choke. Slowly and gently he placed Ray's head back down. Peter sighed as he felt his forehead again. He was still burning up. "Oh Ray," Peter whispered, "Don't do this to me. Stay with us, okay? We need you. You don't know how bad we do."
Ray didn't answer, he just moaned. Peter felt a sharp pain on his head where he was hit and cringed. "I'm not going to faint," he kept saying to himself. "I'm not going to faint. Ray needs me."
He held Ray's hand, which was freezing cold but his forehead was warm. Oh no, Peter thought as he rubbed Ray's hand. "Come on, buddy. I know that it's cold, but you've got to wake up," Peter said. "You can't stay asleep like this, Ray." Peter suddenly lifted Ray and held him close to his chest in an effort to keep him warm.
He didn't want Ray to slip into a coma while they were out there. Peter sighed. He knew he had to keep himself talking too because he was feeling dizzy. If he kept ignoring himself he might slip into one as well.
"Hey, Ray... Do you remember the time in Columbia when I came home so drunk you and Egon thought I was going to die because of how sick I got from drinking too much booze?" He laughed a little. "I sure didn't forget it…"
Peter was feeling on top of the world. The frat was having a graduation party for him. He couldn't believe it. Someone actually did care that he graduated. His father sure didn't.
At the ceremony, Peter was looking everywhere for his father. When it was over, he ran into Egon and Ray who both hugged him and said congratulations. "Where's Dad?" he asked.
Ray glanced at Egon and sighed. "Um, Peter… Your father's not here," Ray murmured.
"He's not, huh? I should've known," Peter sighed. "Oh well. That's Pops for you."
"Peter…" Egon put a hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps we should go out to celebrate."
Celebrating was not on his agenda right now. Something else was and he figured Ray and Egon wouldn't want to get involved with it. "No Spengs, I'll be all right. Listen, I'm just going to go for a walk," he said
The guys nodded. Ray looked down at his feet before Peter hugged them both. "Thanks for being here," he said. "Thanks for caring."
Egon and Ray nodded and Ray had brightened a little. That was when he ran into Jerry from the frat and decided to go join them. That was on his agenda for the evening. It must have been the 12th beer that did him in. He had never drunk that much before, but he didn't care. He just kept drinking and drinking and finally decided to walk back to the apartment that he, Egon and Ray were sharing. He could barely see and he barely remembered how he got there. The next thing he knew, he was throwing up in the bathroom constantly.
Ray had woken up hearing the noise. He went into the bathroom. "Oh gosh, Peter…" he whispered before turning around and yelling, "EGON!" at the top of his lungs.
"No Ray… Don't…" Peter mumbled. He didn't want Egon to see him like this. Hell - he didn't want Ray to, either. As he looked up, he felt his stomach twist violently and he quickly jerked his head back down to the toilet bowl just in time before another stream of vomit fell from his lips. Distantly, he felt someone rubbing his back and realized it was Ray.
"Why?" Peter asked, tears standing in his eyes from being sick.
"Because we're your family, Peter," Ray said. "We're worried about you."
Peter tried to smile but instead threw up again. Ray was still rubbing his back. He couldn't stop throwing up, either. He prayed he didn't have alcohol poisoning because he didn't want to have his stomach pumped.
"Egon, I'm scared. Maybe we should take him to the hospital," Ray said as he looked up at his friend with a worried expression on his face.
"N-No…" Peter choked out.
Egon sighed. "You don't want your stomach pumped, but you may have to if you continue throwing up like this, Peter."
Peter tried desperately to stop. He couldn't, and soon he felt himself being lifted into his Caddy.
"I'll drive. Just make sure he doesn't throw up on his seats," Egon said. "He'll be upset later on if he does."
Ray nodded, still rubbing Peter's back.
"No... No hospital…" Peter moaned.
"I'm sorry, Peter," Ray said tearfully. "I'm sorry…"
Peter held Ray's hand. "Don't be…" He didn't want the kid feeling guilty.
Peter continued throwing up into some plastic garbage bags Egon had grabbed on their way out the door to the hospital. When they arrived at the ER, the nurse took him straight to a bathroom. When he couldn't stop, they finally put him in a bed and Ray held a bucket for him. Peter never felt so humiliated. Here he was, star quarterback of the football team, and he had a sophomore kid holding a bucket for him to throw up in. Peter swore he'd never get this drunk again. And to make it worse, when the doctor walked in, Peter knew him. He was the team's doctor.
"Oh no," Peter moaned.
"Hello Peter," Dr. Stewart said. "You don't look so well."
"Very funny," Peter managed to get out in between throwing up.
The doctor quickly checked Peter over. "Peter, you have alcohol poisoning, I'm afraid…" he said.
Peter sighed. "Don't do it, Doc... Please…" he moaned.
Ray held his hand tighter and Egon put an arm on his shoulder.
"I have to, Peter. We have to get it out of your system," the doctor said. "You're badly dehydrated as it is..."
Peter's eyes watered and he quickly wiped the tears away. Great, he thought, more humiliation.
The doctor patted his back. "We'll go easy on you, but I trust you learned a lesson from this," he said.
Peter nodded the best he could. He didn't remember much of the stomach pump except that he was in the worst pain he felt in his life when they stuck the tube down his throat. He remembered crying and Ray and Egon were there holding his hands.
"You'll be all right, Peter," Ray said.
He remembered Ray was crying with him. When it was over, Peter woke up in a hospital bed but he wasn't sick anymore. Ray was fast asleep in a chair lying on Peter's stomach. Egon was on the other side of him holding his hand.
"How are you feeling?" Egon asked.
"Surprisingly better, outside of a sore throat," Peter croaked. He watched as Ray, having heard the two talking, slowly woke up and rubbed his eyes.
"The doctor told us that would happen," Egon explained and handed Peter some water.
Peter nodded. "I-I'm sorry for putting you guys through that," he whispered.
Egon put a hand on his shoulder.
"Why Peter? Why did you do it?" Ray asked, holding Peter's other hand.
"Because I didn't care, that's why." Peter's eyes watered. "I just drank and drank and figured it would help my problems go away… My Dad… He doesn't even care…"
"Yes he does, Peter. I know he does," Ray whispered.
Peter sighed. How could he explain it to someone who had a heart like Ray's? "My Dad's whole life is cons, I guess… I just thought that he might for once care about something else for a change," he said. "But I was wrong. But now it's my turn to ask, why did you guys stick with me? You didn't have to. The frat guys didn't."
"Because the frat guys are not your true friends, Peter. If they were, they would have stopped you from drinking in the first place," Egon said. "Like we would have had we known where you were going?"
Peter's eyes watered again. Friends, he thought. He actually had friends? The thought scared him. He never let anybody get close, never, but something in his gut was telling him not to give up on this. Gently, he squeezed Egon and Ray's hand and smiled at them. "Thanks, you guys," he said. "I never thought I'd have friends… No – family - like you."
Egon smiled and hugged him. Ray also hugged him.
"That's it for drinking," Peter muttered, holding his stomach. "I never want to see another beer again as long as I live."
"I'll remember you said that, Peter," Egon said with a smile.
Peter smiled and closed his eyes, knowing that the guys wouldn't let anything happen to him. He rubbed Ray's back and looked down at his unconscious friend worriedly. "I promise: nothing will happen to you either, Ray. I'll stick by you the way you stuck by me."
He suddenly realized that Ray was shivering as he was burning up. This wasn't good. Hypothermia was setting in. Peter gasped and took Ray's wet clothes off of him and he took his own wet clothes off too. They should have done that from the beginning. The only thing dry was his boxers. He cursed silently because the cargo section where the luggage had been placed was completely trashed and he was too afraid to leave Ray alone to try and see if he could somehow manage to get inside anyway. He grabbed the first aid blanket from the kit and wrapped it around the two of them.
"I won't lose you, Ray," Peter promised. "You have my word. You're not going anywhere." He glanced at Ray as it looked like he was starting to wake up. "Ray?" he whispered.
Ray slowly opened his eyes. He was cold and hot at the same time but everything around him was oddly quiet. He looked at Peter. He seemed to be talking but no sound was coming out. No sound at all. He suddenly grabbed Peter's arms.
Peter's eyes grew wide. "Ray? What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.
Ray began shaking his head. Peter was talking but he couldn't hear him - not a single word of what he was saying. He spoke but didn't hear a word he said. "Peter, I can't hear."
Peter stared down at his friend in disbelief, running his hands through his hair.
"Peter, help me! I can't hear!" Ray began to panic. "Peter, I can't hear!"
"Ray, calm down! You may have broken ribs and you could've punctured your lungs."
Ray thrashed around, screaming, "I can't hear! I can't hear!"
Peter didn't know what to do. "Please, Ray!"
"He can't hear you, son."
Peter looked up to see a strange tall man dressed in furs standing in front of them. The man had dark brown hair, blue eyes and a beard. He also had a sled with him. A mule had been pulling it.
"Who the hell are you?" demanded Peter.
"No one. Here, let me get you two to warmer shelter."
"Stay away! I mean it."
"Son, you're freezing and so is your friend. Let me help you."
Peter hovered over Ray protectively. Before he could say anything else, he passed out from exhaustion. The strange man first picked Ray up carefully and placed him in his sled. Peter was then placed next to his friend and the man bundled them up warmly.
"Okay Sally, old gal. Let's get home."
Egon and Winston continued the slow pace. They were both shivering, but Egon finally noticed that he wasn't feeling his toes anymore. "Winston, I have to rest. I can't feel my toes."
"No, Egon. Come on, we have to keep going…" Winston said.
Egon nodded and kept walking with Winston. Finally he collapsed, bringing Winston down with him. "I can't…" he said. "I'm sorry…"
"It's okay, man," Winston replied as he passed out, Egon following shortly afterwards.
Randy Emerson, a small town doctor, was just coming back from ice fishing when he found them a short time later. "What the heck?" He hurried over to them to check their pulses. He saw that they were alive and called in a chopper to take them to his office
Hours later, Egon woke up. He realized that he was wrapped in a blanket and his clothes were hanging up by the fireplace. So was Winston's. Egon suddenly remembered his friend and looked around for them frantically.
"It's okay, Dr. Spengler," Dr. Emerson said, putting a hand on Egon's shoulder. "Your friend is safe. He's in the bedroom with his leg up."
"W-Who are you?" Egon asked. "How do you know me?"
"I'm Randy, Randy Emerson. Some folks call me Doctor Emerson because I'm the town's doctor," he said. "I'm also a rancher, and just because I live in the mountains here doesn't mean I haven't heard of the Ghostbusters," he finished with a smile.
Egon nodded as the doctor felt Egon's forehead. "You're still burning up," he said.
"Burning up? But I am freezing." Egon was shivering.
"Frostbite," the doctor explained. "You both have it – just the beginnings of it, though."
Egon nodded and sighed as he continued shivering. "I cannot seem to get warm."
"You'll feel that way for a while," the doctor said. "I can't let you take a bath. That would put your body into shock, but I'll bring out more blankets. In the morning, I'm taking the two of you to the hospital."
"No!" Egon cried, remembering. "We can't… It's been too long already!"
"What's been too long already?"
"Our friends! We were in a plane crash. Winston, Peter, and I were all right but Peter and Ray stayed at the crash site because Ray was injured and unconscious. Winston fell and hurt himself after we left to find help."
Randy nodded. "I'll call the sheriff," he said. "They'll search for your friends." He returned a short time later with two steaming mugs in his hands. "The sheriff and his men are going to search for you friends. In the meantime, drink this hot chocolate. It'll help you warm up some."
Egon nodded and silently accepted one of the mugs.
Tom Candy stirred the hot broth he had been heating up and poured it into a bowl. He looked over and saw that the brown-haired man was finally waking up. "Here, son. Drink some of this. It will make you feel better," he said, holding the bowl out.
Peter took the bowl, lifted it to his lips and took a sip. "How long?" he asked.
"How long? Oh, how long were you sleeping, you mean?"
Peter nodded.
"I'd say about four days."
"Four days?" Peter put the bowl aside and tried to get up, but Tom held him down.
"Hey! Lie still! You had a bad case of frostbite. I wasn't too sure if I could save your toes but I did."
"And what about Ray?" Peter demanded.
"He'll be fine. He's got a fever but I think we can keep it under control. Three of his ribs were cracked but I've taped them."
"When Ray woke up, he said he couldn't hear."
"His fever was high. I think that brought on the illusion. He'll be fine, just like you. But you both need rest. I don't have much but you're welcome to it."
Peter watched as the man walked over to Ray. "Do you know who we are?"
Tom turned around to face Peter. "Yes, I know who you are - two men who needed help."
"Our friends... Are they here? They went for help."
"No son, but I'll go out and search for them."
It had been over three hours since Randy Emerson had talked to the police. Egon was sitting out on the porch when the sheriff's car finally drove up. Egon stood up when he saw his uncle get out of the car. "Egon, my boy! Are you okay?" he asked as he rushed over to his nephew.
"I'm fine, Uncle Cyrus. Winston and I are still waiting on word about Ray and Peter. It's been over three hours."
The police officer cleared his throat and looked very uncomfortable. "That's why I'm here, Dr. Spengler. There was an avalanche in the area where you said the plane went down. That plane is buried under a 1000 feet of snow. I'm sorry."
Egon stared at the police officer. "My friends aren't dead."
"There's no way they could have gotten out. We'll search for them, but I don't have any hope that they are still alive," he said.
Egon looked down. "I won't believe it..." was all he said.
A few minutes later, the officer left. Cyrus stared at Egon. "I'm sorry, Egon."
"Sorry for what? My friends are not dead," Egon said.
Cyrus sighed. "I'm glad one of us has strong hope. Where is your friend Winston?"
"He's in the other room," Egon said. "He's resting."
Cyrus nodded and walked inside Randy's house, Egon following him. "You should be resting too. From what I hear, you had frostbite," Cyrus said.
"I have to tell Winston what's going on, and then I will rest. But I really am fine, Uncle," Egon said as they walked into Winston's room.
Winston opened his eyes as the two entered the room. "Hi," he mumbled.
"Hi." Egon sat on the edge of the bed. "Sorry to disturb you."
"It's okay," Winston yawned. "I don't know what the doc gave me, but it's strong stuff… I feel like I could sleep for days."
Egon smiled weakly. "Winston… There's something I have to tell you," he said, the smile fading from his lips as he grew serious.
"What is it, Egon?"
"The plane… There was an avalanche..." Egon looked down. "They think that Peter and Ray are dead."
Winston didn't say anything for a minute. "I don't believe it."
"I know. Neither do I," Egon said, but now he was starting to doubt it.
"It would feel different, wouldn't it Egon - if they were gone?" Winston asked. "I mean… My heart would feel - empty."
Egon nodded. "Yes, I know. It still feels as if they're still with us," he sighed. "I just hope we can trust our feelings."
Winston nodded. "We can, homeboy. Going to grab some shuteye," he yawned.
Egon stayed with Winston until he fell asleep again, then he went back on the couch and fell asleep himself.
TBC
Peter watched Ray as he moaned and sighed when he reached out to feel Ray's forehead. He was burning up. "Hurry guys! Please hurry." He sighed again, knowing the guys were doing their best. "I need to get some water into you, pal, and I'm not sure how to do it without you choking, so I'm going to have to lift your head." Peter said.
Peter grabbed the water bottle that he had and lifted Ray's head. Carefully, he poured water inside Ray's mouth, watching him carefully to make sure he wouldn't choke. Slowly and gently he placed Ray's head back down. Peter sighed as he felt his forehead again. He was still burning up. "Oh Ray," Peter whispered, "Don't do this to me. Stay with us, okay? We need you. You don't know how bad we do."
Ray didn't answer, he just moaned. Peter felt a sharp pain on his head where he was hit and cringed. "I'm not going to faint," he kept saying to himself. "I'm not going to faint. Ray needs me."
He held Ray's hand, which was freezing cold but his forehead was warm. Oh no, Peter thought as he rubbed Ray's hand. "Come on, buddy. I know that it's cold, but you've got to wake up," Peter said. "You can't stay asleep like this, Ray." Peter suddenly lifted Ray and held him close to his chest in an effort to keep him warm.
He didn't want Ray to slip into a coma while they were out there. Peter sighed. He knew he had to keep himself talking too because he was feeling dizzy. If he kept ignoring himself he might slip into one as well.
"Hey, Ray... Do you remember the time in Columbia when I came home so drunk you and Egon thought I was going to die because of how sick I got from drinking too much booze?" He laughed a little. "I sure didn't forget it…"
Peter was feeling on top of the world. The frat was having a graduation party for him. He couldn't believe it. Someone actually did care that he graduated. His father sure didn't.
At the ceremony, Peter was looking everywhere for his father. When it was over, he ran into Egon and Ray who both hugged him and said congratulations. "Where's Dad?" he asked.
Ray glanced at Egon and sighed. "Um, Peter… Your father's not here," Ray murmured.
"He's not, huh? I should've known," Peter sighed. "Oh well. That's Pops for you."
"Peter…" Egon put a hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps we should go out to celebrate."
Celebrating was not on his agenda right now. Something else was and he figured Ray and Egon wouldn't want to get involved with it. "No Spengs, I'll be all right. Listen, I'm just going to go for a walk," he said
The guys nodded. Ray looked down at his feet before Peter hugged them both. "Thanks for being here," he said. "Thanks for caring."
Egon and Ray nodded and Ray had brightened a little. That was when he ran into Jerry from the frat and decided to go join them. That was on his agenda for the evening. It must have been the 12th beer that did him in. He had never drunk that much before, but he didn't care. He just kept drinking and drinking and finally decided to walk back to the apartment that he, Egon and Ray were sharing. He could barely see and he barely remembered how he got there. The next thing he knew, he was throwing up in the bathroom constantly.
Ray had woken up hearing the noise. He went into the bathroom. "Oh gosh, Peter…" he whispered before turning around and yelling, "EGON!" at the top of his lungs.
"No Ray… Don't…" Peter mumbled. He didn't want Egon to see him like this. Hell - he didn't want Ray to, either. As he looked up, he felt his stomach twist violently and he quickly jerked his head back down to the toilet bowl just in time before another stream of vomit fell from his lips. Distantly, he felt someone rubbing his back and realized it was Ray.
"Why?" Peter asked, tears standing in his eyes from being sick.
"Because we're your family, Peter," Ray said. "We're worried about you."
Peter tried to smile but instead threw up again. Ray was still rubbing his back. He couldn't stop throwing up, either. He prayed he didn't have alcohol poisoning because he didn't want to have his stomach pumped.
"Egon, I'm scared. Maybe we should take him to the hospital," Ray said as he looked up at his friend with a worried expression on his face.
"N-No…" Peter choked out.
Egon sighed. "You don't want your stomach pumped, but you may have to if you continue throwing up like this, Peter."
Peter tried desperately to stop. He couldn't, and soon he felt himself being lifted into his Caddy.
"I'll drive. Just make sure he doesn't throw up on his seats," Egon said. "He'll be upset later on if he does."
Ray nodded, still rubbing Peter's back.
"No... No hospital…" Peter moaned.
"I'm sorry, Peter," Ray said tearfully. "I'm sorry…"
Peter held Ray's hand. "Don't be…" He didn't want the kid feeling guilty.
Peter continued throwing up into some plastic garbage bags Egon had grabbed on their way out the door to the hospital. When they arrived at the ER, the nurse took him straight to a bathroom. When he couldn't stop, they finally put him in a bed and Ray held a bucket for him. Peter never felt so humiliated. Here he was, star quarterback of the football team, and he had a sophomore kid holding a bucket for him to throw up in. Peter swore he'd never get this drunk again. And to make it worse, when the doctor walked in, Peter knew him. He was the team's doctor.
"Oh no," Peter moaned.
"Hello Peter," Dr. Stewart said. "You don't look so well."
"Very funny," Peter managed to get out in between throwing up.
The doctor quickly checked Peter over. "Peter, you have alcohol poisoning, I'm afraid…" he said.
Peter sighed. "Don't do it, Doc... Please…" he moaned.
Ray held his hand tighter and Egon put an arm on his shoulder.
"I have to, Peter. We have to get it out of your system," the doctor said. "You're badly dehydrated as it is..."
Peter's eyes watered and he quickly wiped the tears away. Great, he thought, more humiliation.
The doctor patted his back. "We'll go easy on you, but I trust you learned a lesson from this," he said.
Peter nodded the best he could. He didn't remember much of the stomach pump except that he was in the worst pain he felt in his life when they stuck the tube down his throat. He remembered crying and Ray and Egon were there holding his hands.
"You'll be all right, Peter," Ray said.
He remembered Ray was crying with him. When it was over, Peter woke up in a hospital bed but he wasn't sick anymore. Ray was fast asleep in a chair lying on Peter's stomach. Egon was on the other side of him holding his hand.
"How are you feeling?" Egon asked.
"Surprisingly better, outside of a sore throat," Peter croaked. He watched as Ray, having heard the two talking, slowly woke up and rubbed his eyes.
"The doctor told us that would happen," Egon explained and handed Peter some water.
Peter nodded. "I-I'm sorry for putting you guys through that," he whispered.
Egon put a hand on his shoulder.
"Why Peter? Why did you do it?" Ray asked, holding Peter's other hand.
"Because I didn't care, that's why." Peter's eyes watered. "I just drank and drank and figured it would help my problems go away… My Dad… He doesn't even care…"
"Yes he does, Peter. I know he does," Ray whispered.
Peter sighed. How could he explain it to someone who had a heart like Ray's? "My Dad's whole life is cons, I guess… I just thought that he might for once care about something else for a change," he said. "But I was wrong. But now it's my turn to ask, why did you guys stick with me? You didn't have to. The frat guys didn't."
"Because the frat guys are not your true friends, Peter. If they were, they would have stopped you from drinking in the first place," Egon said. "Like we would have had we known where you were going?"
Peter's eyes watered again. Friends, he thought. He actually had friends? The thought scared him. He never let anybody get close, never, but something in his gut was telling him not to give up on this. Gently, he squeezed Egon and Ray's hand and smiled at them. "Thanks, you guys," he said. "I never thought I'd have friends… No – family - like you."
Egon smiled and hugged him. Ray also hugged him.
"That's it for drinking," Peter muttered, holding his stomach. "I never want to see another beer again as long as I live."
"I'll remember you said that, Peter," Egon said with a smile.
Peter smiled and closed his eyes, knowing that the guys wouldn't let anything happen to him. He rubbed Ray's back and looked down at his unconscious friend worriedly. "I promise: nothing will happen to you either, Ray. I'll stick by you the way you stuck by me."
He suddenly realized that Ray was shivering as he was burning up. This wasn't good. Hypothermia was setting in. Peter gasped and took Ray's wet clothes off of him and he took his own wet clothes off too. They should have done that from the beginning. The only thing dry was his boxers. He cursed silently because the cargo section where the luggage had been placed was completely trashed and he was too afraid to leave Ray alone to try and see if he could somehow manage to get inside anyway. He grabbed the first aid blanket from the kit and wrapped it around the two of them.
"I won't lose you, Ray," Peter promised. "You have my word. You're not going anywhere." He glanced at Ray as it looked like he was starting to wake up. "Ray?" he whispered.
Ray slowly opened his eyes. He was cold and hot at the same time but everything around him was oddly quiet. He looked at Peter. He seemed to be talking but no sound was coming out. No sound at all. He suddenly grabbed Peter's arms.
Peter's eyes grew wide. "Ray? What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.
Ray began shaking his head. Peter was talking but he couldn't hear him - not a single word of what he was saying. He spoke but didn't hear a word he said. "Peter, I can't hear."
Peter stared down at his friend in disbelief, running his hands through his hair.
"Peter, help me! I can't hear!" Ray began to panic. "Peter, I can't hear!"
"Ray, calm down! You may have broken ribs and you could've punctured your lungs."
Ray thrashed around, screaming, "I can't hear! I can't hear!"
Peter didn't know what to do. "Please, Ray!"
"He can't hear you, son."
Peter looked up to see a strange tall man dressed in furs standing in front of them. The man had dark brown hair, blue eyes and a beard. He also had a sled with him. A mule had been pulling it.
"Who the hell are you?" demanded Peter.
"No one. Here, let me get you two to warmer shelter."
"Stay away! I mean it."
"Son, you're freezing and so is your friend. Let me help you."
Peter hovered over Ray protectively. Before he could say anything else, he passed out from exhaustion. The strange man first picked Ray up carefully and placed him in his sled. Peter was then placed next to his friend and the man bundled them up warmly.
"Okay Sally, old gal. Let's get home."
Egon and Winston continued the slow pace. They were both shivering, but Egon finally noticed that he wasn't feeling his toes anymore. "Winston, I have to rest. I can't feel my toes."
"No, Egon. Come on, we have to keep going…" Winston said.
Egon nodded and kept walking with Winston. Finally he collapsed, bringing Winston down with him. "I can't…" he said. "I'm sorry…"
"It's okay, man," Winston replied as he passed out, Egon following shortly afterwards.
Randy Emerson, a small town doctor, was just coming back from ice fishing when he found them a short time later. "What the heck?" He hurried over to them to check their pulses. He saw that they were alive and called in a chopper to take them to his office
Hours later, Egon woke up. He realized that he was wrapped in a blanket and his clothes were hanging up by the fireplace. So was Winston's. Egon suddenly remembered his friend and looked around for them frantically.
"It's okay, Dr. Spengler," Dr. Emerson said, putting a hand on Egon's shoulder. "Your friend is safe. He's in the bedroom with his leg up."
"W-Who are you?" Egon asked. "How do you know me?"
"I'm Randy, Randy Emerson. Some folks call me Doctor Emerson because I'm the town's doctor," he said. "I'm also a rancher, and just because I live in the mountains here doesn't mean I haven't heard of the Ghostbusters," he finished with a smile.
Egon nodded as the doctor felt Egon's forehead. "You're still burning up," he said.
"Burning up? But I am freezing." Egon was shivering.
"Frostbite," the doctor explained. "You both have it – just the beginnings of it, though."
Egon nodded and sighed as he continued shivering. "I cannot seem to get warm."
"You'll feel that way for a while," the doctor said. "I can't let you take a bath. That would put your body into shock, but I'll bring out more blankets. In the morning, I'm taking the two of you to the hospital."
"No!" Egon cried, remembering. "We can't… It's been too long already!"
"What's been too long already?"
"Our friends! We were in a plane crash. Winston, Peter, and I were all right but Peter and Ray stayed at the crash site because Ray was injured and unconscious. Winston fell and hurt himself after we left to find help."
Randy nodded. "I'll call the sheriff," he said. "They'll search for your friends." He returned a short time later with two steaming mugs in his hands. "The sheriff and his men are going to search for you friends. In the meantime, drink this hot chocolate. It'll help you warm up some."
Egon nodded and silently accepted one of the mugs.
Tom Candy stirred the hot broth he had been heating up and poured it into a bowl. He looked over and saw that the brown-haired man was finally waking up. "Here, son. Drink some of this. It will make you feel better," he said, holding the bowl out.
Peter took the bowl, lifted it to his lips and took a sip. "How long?" he asked.
"How long? Oh, how long were you sleeping, you mean?"
Peter nodded.
"I'd say about four days."
"Four days?" Peter put the bowl aside and tried to get up, but Tom held him down.
"Hey! Lie still! You had a bad case of frostbite. I wasn't too sure if I could save your toes but I did."
"And what about Ray?" Peter demanded.
"He'll be fine. He's got a fever but I think we can keep it under control. Three of his ribs were cracked but I've taped them."
"When Ray woke up, he said he couldn't hear."
"His fever was high. I think that brought on the illusion. He'll be fine, just like you. But you both need rest. I don't have much but you're welcome to it."
Peter watched as the man walked over to Ray. "Do you know who we are?"
Tom turned around to face Peter. "Yes, I know who you are - two men who needed help."
"Our friends... Are they here? They went for help."
"No son, but I'll go out and search for them."
It had been over three hours since Randy Emerson had talked to the police. Egon was sitting out on the porch when the sheriff's car finally drove up. Egon stood up when he saw his uncle get out of the car. "Egon, my boy! Are you okay?" he asked as he rushed over to his nephew.
"I'm fine, Uncle Cyrus. Winston and I are still waiting on word about Ray and Peter. It's been over three hours."
The police officer cleared his throat and looked very uncomfortable. "That's why I'm here, Dr. Spengler. There was an avalanche in the area where you said the plane went down. That plane is buried under a 1000 feet of snow. I'm sorry."
Egon stared at the police officer. "My friends aren't dead."
"There's no way they could have gotten out. We'll search for them, but I don't have any hope that they are still alive," he said.
Egon looked down. "I won't believe it..." was all he said.
A few minutes later, the officer left. Cyrus stared at Egon. "I'm sorry, Egon."
"Sorry for what? My friends are not dead," Egon said.
Cyrus sighed. "I'm glad one of us has strong hope. Where is your friend Winston?"
"He's in the other room," Egon said. "He's resting."
Cyrus nodded and walked inside Randy's house, Egon following him. "You should be resting too. From what I hear, you had frostbite," Cyrus said.
"I have to tell Winston what's going on, and then I will rest. But I really am fine, Uncle," Egon said as they walked into Winston's room.
Winston opened his eyes as the two entered the room. "Hi," he mumbled.
"Hi." Egon sat on the edge of the bed. "Sorry to disturb you."
"It's okay," Winston yawned. "I don't know what the doc gave me, but it's strong stuff… I feel like I could sleep for days."
Egon smiled weakly. "Winston… There's something I have to tell you," he said, the smile fading from his lips as he grew serious.
"What is it, Egon?"
"The plane… There was an avalanche..." Egon looked down. "They think that Peter and Ray are dead."
Winston didn't say anything for a minute. "I don't believe it."
"I know. Neither do I," Egon said, but now he was starting to doubt it.
"It would feel different, wouldn't it Egon - if they were gone?" Winston asked. "I mean… My heart would feel - empty."
Egon nodded. "Yes, I know. It still feels as if they're still with us," he sighed. "I just hope we can trust our feelings."
Winston nodded. "We can, homeboy. Going to grab some shuteye," he yawned.
Egon stayed with Winston until he fell asleep again, then he went back on the couch and fell asleep himself.
TBC