Chapter XII

The Aftermath

"I am sick of this bed!" Peter's voice echoed through the second floor of the Firehouse.

"Shut up, Dipshit!" the parrot squawked in response.

Peter picked up a plastic fork and tried to twist to the side to stab the bird in the cage by his bed. Unfortunately, the motion sent sizzles of pain down his spine and he groaned loudly, forcing himself back to a straight line. The monitors beeped chastisingly and he stuck his tongue out at them. "When I get out of this bed..." he grumbled.

"Rrawk! Love you too!"

Peter blinked. "Where did you pick that up?"

The bird rustled around the cage, deciding now to ignore the curious human. Peter rolled his eyes and pouted, frowning at all the wires sprouting from his arms and hands and head. "Haven't they taken enough readings? It's been days," he muttered. Days since he was stabbed in the back, days since he'd been let out of the hospital. Days filled with getting Egon out of jail (even being possessed hadn't stopped him from being arrested for arson and assaulting a police officer) and Ray reopening his bookshop and the Duke Brothers Carnival setting a semi-permanent residence in New York as they tried to recover from their losses, (and started threatening to sue the Ghostbusters...again). Days of cleanup and stress and anxiety and physical therapy...

"I'm sick of it!" he repeated.

"It's almost over," Dana said, coming into the room. "The doctors said you could start walking around on your own tomorrow if you wanted."

"Well, it's about time!" Peter's mood lifted and he smiled at her. He couldn't help it, even just looking at her reminded him that everything, every day and every night of the last couple weeks, and every battle he had ever won, was worth it because she was still with him. He reached a hand to her as she sat next to him, setting down the tray of leftover Chinese, and she leaned over to kiss him, her lips soft but sure.

"I love you," he murmured as she pulled away. For the first time in a while, the words came naturally, easily.

She grinned. "There now, was that so hard to say?"

Peter rolled his eyes and laughed softly, starting to eat. "I told you, if I had this kind of support, I'd be set for life by the end of the century."

Dana chuckled and gave him a little shove. After a moment, her face grew serious. "I thought I'd lost you."

Peter paused and then nodded. "I did too. Having a ghost die inside of you...only slightly better than being a giraffe in quicksand. Worse than being stabbed in the back, though." His back twinged in agreement and he shifted uncomfortably.

"I mean it. Peter. I don't want to feel that way anymore. I...did some thinking while you were in the hospital."

Women thinking was never a good thing when it came to conversations like this. Peter felt his stomach turn over. "Dana, wait..."

"What if I asked you?"

"Asked me what?"

"To marry me."

Peter stared. This was a hundred percent not what he had expected to come out of her mouth. "Wh-what?"

"You heard me."

Peter's mind whirled. "You said I wasn't good for you."

"I know."

"You said I called you the ol' ball and chain."

"You did."

"You told me I never asked you and I always fell asleep when you brought it up."

"That's true."

"So...why? Why would you ask me to marry you?"

Dana smiled. "Because you asked that question. You've changed, Peter. I already know you'd do anything for me and Oscar. You've proven that. But you've changed too, inside. You've changed enough to ask why you deserve me, instead of just assuming you do and assuming I want you."

For the first time in a long time, Peter found himself speechless. Dana grinned and leaned over to kiss him again. "Think about it."

She stood up and gracefully left the room.

**o0o**

A day later

Erica sat on the couch outside the Ghostbusters' sleeping quarters, her hands twisting anxiously together, staring at the book on her lap. She could hear the beeping of Peter's heart monitor in the next room and silently reveled in the sound, the steadiness of a heartbeat that she had almost snuffed out.

She had spent days holed up in her room at first, having gotten out of work thanks to nearly dying in the ghost-initiated carnival fire. Muriel had come to stay with her, not saying a word for much of it, just cooking and forcing her to eat. The two of them had gone to Ray's reopening, but Erica hadn't been able to interact with anyone and left right after the ribbon was cut. Muriel had come home later, telling her Ray had been worried about her and Peter had wanted to see her, but Erica had just shaken her head. She hadn't known when or if she was going to be able to look either of them in the eye again.

She'd stabbed a man in the back. With intent to kill him.

It wasn't entirely true. Violet, not Erica, had stabbed Levi, not Peter, in the back. Erica hadn't wanted to kill Peter. But when she'd realized the only way to stop Levi was to reenact his death, she'd willingly gone to grab the dagger in order to end someone's life. How could she accept that?

Touching the dagger had awoken something. Another mind had joined hers, another ghost. It hadn't been malicious or overpowering, just...compelling. When Levi had spoken the name, she'd realized who it was. And so she'd let it all play out, doing what Violet told her to do.

Which still didn't alleviate her guilt. She'd worked with one ghost to kill another...another that was in the body of her friend.

She'd nearly killed Peter. On purpose.

You have to see Peter today, Muriel had said to her before leaving that morning. I'm going to call you tonight to find out how it went. And Erica, you have to forgive yourself.

Seeing Peter was hard enough. How the hell was she supposed to forgive herself, too?

"I know you're out there. I can hear your hands twisting."

Erica gasped and jumped, looking up to see Peter leaning against the doorframe, clad in a white robe. His hair was messy and his skin pasty, showing all the signs of extended bed rest, but his impish smile reached all the way to his eyes. He crooked a finger at her. "Come on over. And don't look under my robe."

Erica rolled her eyes, gathered up the book, and followed him in. She perched on a chair near the door.

"Come on." Peter hauled himself back into the bed and waved. "You're far away."

"I shouldn't be here." Her voice was shaking.

Peter's face grew stern. "None of that. Come here." He hit the bed firmly.

Even though tears of panic welled in her eyes, Erica slowly moved over and sat beside him. The guilt closed her throat. She didn't dare look at him.

"There was no other way," Peter said.

Erica let out a sob without meaning to, and then she couldn't stop. She clawed at the bed and sobbed uncontrollably. She sobbed for her own guilt and terror and for Violet's lifelong grief. It wasn't the first time she'd cried over the past few days, but she could feel it in hard waves that almost made her sick. Her body released everything in the presence of the man who was forgiving her.

Peter's hands touched her, pulling her down on him, petting her hair. He held her for several moments before speaking. "It was bad," he said, "but you saved me. You saved Dana, and Ray, and Oscar. The only way I was going to win is if I killed Levi and...and I wasn't gonna be able to do that."

He couldn't. She heard it in his voice.

"He was beating me," Peter continued. "I wasn't able to keep it up. Not on all the fronts. He was inside Egon. I couldn't kill him there. And inside my own head...luckily you got to him before I had to continue. He was beating me." It was also the first time he'd said this aloud, she could tell.

The waves were coming farther apart now. She slowly lifted her head, face red, eyes swollen, panting from the exertion of sobbing.

Peter was staring at her, his eyes serious. He reached over, grabbed some tissue from the stand beside the bed, and wiped a couple of tears from her cheeks. "You freed two families from a really, really bad mistake. Forget mismatching socks or dyeing your hair the wrong color. At least you haven't started a blood feud." There was a little smile. "I can't thank you enough."

"My family was responsible for it. And I tried to kill you on purpose." She had to say it.

"I don't blame you for what your ancestors did," Peter said. "How fair is that? I'd be in deep do-do if I had to pay for some of my father's mistakes. As for trying to kill me..." He trailed off for a moment before continuing. "That was what it had to be. I knew it might happen. I'm just happy the doctors were right there." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Being a Ghostbuster ain't a safe job. Gozer nearly killed us more than once. Hell, the potholes on First Avenue gave Egon a concussion! We've had close calls."

Erica closed her eyes. Strong fingers took her chin and she opened them in surprise.

Peter was staring directly at her. "I forgive you, Erica," he said. "I guess you're going to have to forgive yourself too."

Erica snorted. "Muriel said the same thing."

"Muriel's the smartest old bat I've ever seen." Peter suddenly peeked around her. "She's not here, is she? She didn't hear me?"

Erica laughed a little. "No. She's on her way to Oregon."

"You know, for a moment there, I thought she was...you know." Peter pretended to beam thoughts at her.

Erica nodded, remembering the TV interview. "I think she is, at least a little. Violet was. It would certainly explain a lot of things."

"Yes. Including how well you read people."

Erica bobbed her eyebrows. "Exactly." She doubted it. She'd been trying for days to talk to Muriel with her mind. No answers whatsoever. She either had no control or less ability than she hoped. Either way, no one would have to worry about her reading their minds.

Peter's grin got bigger. There was a knock at the door. Erica looked over to see Ray peering in. She blushed and smiled at him.

"Come on in, we're getting ready to play strip poker!" Peter's mood changed immediately, his silly grin crawling into his eyes, the seriousness evaporating.

Ray laughed. "Glad to see you here," he added to Erica, coming over to touch her on the shoulder. Erica reached over and touched his fingers with her own. His presence reminded her of the other reason she had come to visit, and she reached down and pulled out the book.

"I have something to show you." She opened the book and lay it on Peter's lap. "Look."

Peter and Ray leaned over, inspecting the book. After a moment they both looked up, confused. "Yeah, I still can't read it?" Peter asked.

"Neither can I," Erica revealed.

Ray's eyebrows went up.

Erica continued. "Shortly after Levi died, I went back to try and review the spell Violet used to bind him to the dagger. Just to make sure he was gone, you know? But I couldn't read the pages anymore. I checked the book and tried to repeat the phrase on it." She closed it and held it out. "Look."

The words were gone.

"The book fulfilled its purpose," Ray said softly.

"I have no idea if Violet cast the spell or if she went to someone who did," Erica said. "But she devoted her life to keeping her secrets. And now that her greatest...sin, I guess...is gone...the rest of it is locked away."

"What are you going to do with the book?" Peter asked.

Easy. "Keep it," Erica said. "I have it and the dagger still. They're still mine. Still my responsibility. I can remember a lot of what was written in there. And...it's family, you know? She was still my great-great-grandmother."

Peter nodded. "I think that's best."

The three sat in silence for a moment before Ray spoke up. "Now that I see Peter's okay...I was wondering, Erica, if you'd want to go get that lemonade we talked about. See where it fits in your list of drinks." He reached around behind him and pulled out a baseball cap, setting it firmly on his head. His eyes danced mischievously and Erica laughed heartily.

Peter had started grinning when Ray asked his question, but now curiosity flickered in his eyes. "You want to explain the baseball cap, Ray?"

"Eh, we'll tell you when you're older," Erica smirked at him.

Peter's face brightened and he gave Ray a little punch in the shoulder. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Ray gave him and grin and held his hand out to Erica. She took it, and let him lead her from the room.

As Ray and Erica made their exit, Peter Venkman leaned back against the pillows, feeling freer and safer than he had in years. Letting a soft, genuine smile spread over his face, he closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

His dreams were peaceful.

**o0o**

I really can't tell all of you how much I appreciate you. Thank you so much for the reviews and encouragement and support you have given me. It's taken me two years from conception to posting this last chapter, and I feel nothing but pride. I still welcome any constructive criticism on this, and yes...I am interested in a sequel. If you're interested in a sequel, please let me know via reviews or PM. Also, if you're interested in knowing more about Violet, Hugh, and Levi, their story is one I'm looking at! Thank you all again!