At first, Louis only had a vague idea what he wanted to do now that he'd decided to make some changes in his life. He couldn't stop thinking about those guys in the jumpsuits. He could see why no one had paid much attention to him after everything that happened. But those guys… those guys were heroes. He wondered what it would be like to have that sort of life. And on the few nights when he wasn't having nightmares about the glass wall, he was dreaming about how incredible that life had to be.
But even if their business hadn't gone under, it wasn't as if he could have just knocked on their door and begged them to let him join. No one would think he was cut out to be an action hero. He'd have to find something he was good at. And he was good at forms and rules and taxes. So after a little thought, he figured out exactly what he wanted to do. He started going to night school, and he studied to become a lawyer.
He had always been careful with his money, just like he was supposed to, and he could afford the classes as long as he budgeted carefully and didn't quit his day job. It kept him busy, and it made for a lot of long nights, but he enjoyed it so much he didn't mind. And then, finally the day came when he was officially licensed to practice. No one he'd invited stopped by to celebrate, but his mom remembered to call to congratulate him by the next day, so that was nice.
Helping people with issues related to tax law and an occasional probate case was hardly the same as catching ghosts, and he still couldn't quite stop thinking about it. But at least it felt more like a chance to make a difference than when he was in his little cubicle in the accounting firm. Alright, so maybe a little office tucked into the back somewhere wasn't that much of an upgrade. And he still didn't know if he was really making much of a difference. But it felt like a chance for something to happen, and he liked having that chance. He felt happier with his life again.
And then, one day, he got a call…
"Mr. Tully?" It was a woman's voice, and one that certainly didn't sound cheerful. It was probably someone calling with some sort of tax complaint they wanted him to settle. People were always pretty annoyed when they had to deal with that sort of thing, but he always tried his hardest to be helpful.
"Yes, that's me. What can I do for you?"
"I've got a case for you. You know about the blackout last weekend?"
How could he forget it? He'd been too nervous to step in an elevator again since. But why would anyone be calling him about it?
"Yeah, I remember… did it result in loss of income or damage of property for you? If it affected your taxes somehow, I'd be happy to-"
"No, this isn't about taxes." The woman interrupted him.
He couldn't help thinking that she sounded far more annoyed than anyone he usually dealt with. "Is everything alright?"
"Is everything alright? Well, let's see here… All the power in the city goes out in the middle of the night, and of course, everyone's furious. And wouldn't you know it, the culprits turn out to be a bunch of mad scientists that never stop to think before they go charging into crazy situations, because it never occurs to them that people might be mad if they cause more damage than whatever they were trying to fix. And even though I haven't worked for them in years, they apparently think I exist to get them out of trouble like I'm a dang babysitter watching a group of destructive toddlers, so now I get dragged into this whole thing after they call begging for help, and these guys don't even seem to know how to put their take-out containers in the garbage, let alone handle a court case."
She finally paused to take a breath, and he found himself feeling unsure how to respond.
"I... I'm sorry?"
With the ranting out of the way, she seemed to have calmed down a little. "Listen, the Ghostbusters need a representative in court. Can you do it?"
He nearly fell out of his chair, and he actually did drop the phone. All he could do was sit there, gripping the edges of the table as he stared wide-eyed at the place it had fallen, almost like it was an animal he expected to leap up and bite him. Was this a prank call? It had to be a prank call. Or he was dreaming. That was it. He had to be dreaming. This had to be another one of his dreams.
"Mr. Tully? Are you still there?"
He scrambled to grab the phone again, and held it to his ear with shaking hands. "P-pardon me. Would, uh… would you mind repeating that?"
"The Ghostbusters are being taken to court, and we need a lawyer. Can you do it or can't you?"
This couldn't be real. It couldn't. Sure, he'd heard about their upcoming court date, but it was shaping up to be one of the most highly publicized events the city had seen in a long time. They couldn't possibly want some guy who's only experience was with filling out forms in a back office.
"I'm sorry, but I think you must be looking for someone else. This is a criminal case, and I've got a degree in tax law."
"Hey, I'm not the one who picked who we were calling. Dr. Venkman seems to think you'd be willing to give us a discount, seeing as they helped you out awhile ago."
He gave a helpless shrug, too flustered to realize it was pointless when he was talking over the phone. "Well sure, I guess that seems fair, but I really don't think I'm what you're looking for."
"Mr. Tully, I can't begin to tell you how pressed for cash we are. If you're licensed to practice law and you're willing to work for what we can afford, you're exactly what we're looking for."
His head was spinning. He'd never been taught to handle anything like this! How could he say yes? But how many nights had he lied awake, just yearning for a taste of this life? How could he say no?
"I mean, I guess I technically can take the case…"
"Then can I tell then you'll do it?"
He rubbed a hand at his temple, still not entirely sure he wasn't dreaming. "Well, I uh… I-I just don't know, I…"
"Mr. Tully… please. We need somebody."
There was something in her voice that caught his attention. Not annoyed anymore, but tired, and stressed beyond belief. He felt awful for her. He really did. He could tell that she was really trying to help the guys. And he knew what it felt like when you wanted to be helpful but nothing you tried seemed to be the right thing to do. He wished he could help, if only to make things easier for her. But he really, really should say no. It was a terrible idea. He'd make a fool of himself and of his clients. He had to tell her that she'd need to find someone else. It was the only sensible thing to do. He had to.
"…Okay, I'll do it."
This was going to be interesting.