With Ray's assistance Egon was able to slip the black shirt on over his bandages with surprisingly little difficulty. The fresh white gauze stood out boldly against the dark fabric, but Egon didn't seem notice or possibly didn't care at the moment. Peter had ducked away into their shared office on the first floor to make a phone call to Dana, and hoped to find some way to make contact with Winston in Pittsburgh.

"Ray I believe I have the proper equation." Egon studied his hastily drawn mathematical notes. "But to be sure we must do a bench test before we reach the hotel, otherwise our proton streams could have a negative effect with no remedy, and no means of a second chance."

"Like always..." Ray mumbled as he grabbed ahold of the first proton pack from its charging station with one hand, and the large tool chest beside the desk with the other. Puffing heavily he hoisted the two objects onto the desk and let out a large sigh with the exhausting effort. "That was easy."

Working tirelessly in the basement lab Ray and Egon analyzed their collected data together while looking to find the correct frequency required to calibrate their proton packs in order to stop the ethereal threat that was looming ever closer over the city. The storm over the hotel grew in density as the air became ever colder with an unnatural chill. Wind began to gust through the vacated streets causing the power lines to sway and shudder under the strain.

The lights flickered in the firehouse which immediately drew Ray's concern. "Our back up generator is ready to kick on, right Egon?" He watched suspiciously as the lightbulb overhead dimmed and resumed its usual brightness like the pulse of a beating heart.

"Yes." Egon confirmed as he popped open the power panel on the side of the first proton pack with a screwdriver. "And the back up for the back up will kick in if necessary." Using the back of his hand Egon wiped beads of sweat from his brow. "Let's just hope our reserves hold out long enough for us to make the proper adjustments to our packs."

Ray had noticed that Egon was already sweating despite only having just begun his work. He also noticed that Egon was starting to look pale again, as well. "You feeling okay? You don't look so well."

"I'm alright." Egon continued his work without breaking stride or concentration. "Just focused."

Ray wasn't convinced despite Egon's firm response. Keeping a close eye on every move that the determined physicist made, the empathetic occultist chose to push the matter aside for the moment and assist with adjusting the proton packs.

"Hand me that screwdriver, will ya'?" Ray pulled the proton pack onto the desk and began to work right along side Egon.

"Philips or flat head?"

"Flat head."

From stairwell Peter's voice echoed down. "Who you callin' a flat head, chump?" He never missed an opportunity to tease his colleagues.

"Get ahold of Dana?" Ray asked as he mirrored Egon's movements, doing his best to keep up with the fast thinking scientist at his side.

"Yeah, she's okay. I told her about what's going and she's going to try to track down Winston for us."

"And Janine?"

"Janine was at her mother's apartment. She'll be over to help out soon."

"Her mother's sick, isn't she?" Ray asked sincerely as he subconsciously began staring at Egon.

"Yeah. Louis is going to stay with her so Janine come help us." Peter couldn't help but notice that Ray was watching Egon a little too closely. "Something wrong with Egon?"

"Huh?" Embarrassed Ray broke his eye contact and stared at the proton pack instead. "No, I don't think so. Why don't you ask him for yourself?"

Picking up on the hint Peter approached Egon and stood uncomfortably close to the working physicist. Using his keen skills of observation Peter knew that Ray was onto something. "Egon, you look tired. Why don't you go take a little nap? We don't want you to get cranky."

"Funny." Was Egon's sole, dry retort.

Peter and Ray just gave each other unsure glances. Egon could be just as stubborn as Peter at times, especially when something as delicate as a recalibration was on the line. In the bright lighting of the lab it was evident that Egon was unusually pale and sweaty. His normally bright, alert eyes were becoming glassy and dark circles were forming under those same eyes.

Knowing that Egon would never admit his fatigue, especially during such a dire time Ray and Peter chose to focus on their work instead.

"Well then," Peter hefted a third proton pack onto the desk. "what are we doing to our little toys now? Please tell me we're adding some bricks, because these things are just too darn light!"

Ignoring the sarcasm Ray slipped a piece of paper with his and Egon's calculations toward the wily psychiatrist. "Here. We need our proton streams to match this frequently exactly." Passing Peter a screwdriver Ray resumed his attention to the pack under his hands. "Hop to it."

"I don't hop." Was all Peter could think to say as he reluctantly got his hands dirty by digging through the advanced, dangerous, greasy and occasionally slimy internal components of the proton pack.

From upstairs the all too familiar and thickly New York accented voice of Janine called out. "Hello? Are you guys still here?"

"Downstairs!" Ray responded between his clenched teeth and the pencil held between. "Come on down, it's safe!"

"What's going on? It sounded really urgent over the phone." She strode down the stairs, her heels echoing on each step as she walked. "What did you-" She noticed Egon bandaged up and looking fairly pale. "What the hell happened to you, Egon?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing." He answered without looking away from the proton pack. "Just got too close to an ethereal electrical strike."

Crossing her arms defiantly Janine refused to accept such a casual reply as that. "Uh-huh. You look awful. Maybe you should go upstairs and get some rest."

"No, I'm fine." Egon persisted. "It looks far more severe than it truly is, I swear."

Janine studied Ray and Peter's faces for any possible clues but knew from their expressions that there would be no winning with Egon. "Alright then. So, what do you guys need me to do?"

Peter handed a screwdriver to Janine in a very assertive manner. "Pop open the next proton pack. We'll mess with the wires."

"O-okay." Janine accepted the offered tool and looked at the fourth pack still resting in its usual place along the wall. "I'll do what I can."

"Great."

Upstairs the door opened and shut as yet another visitor arrived. "Hello?"

"Dana!" Peter forcefully shoved his pack into Janine's arms. "Here, take care of this!" Before Janine or anyone else had a chance to protest he was bounding up the stairs and onto the first floor to greet his new wife.

"Typical." Janine scoffed as she clumsily sat the pack on the table with the first two.

Racing onto the first floor Peter met Dana in the garage just as she walked past Ecto-1. She was carrying two large paper bags in her arms, and her long hair had blown into her face thanks to the sporadic wind gusts that now swirled down the city streets.

"You made it!" He greeted with a quick kiss on her lips. "And you brought snacks!" He them remarked as he took the bags from her arms. "How bad it it out there?"

"Pretty bad." She answered as she ran a hand through her hair and tried to straighten her dark locks.

"I've always been fuzzy with the 'good vs bad' scale." Peter walked up the stairs to the second floor and toward the rec room with Dana following. "On a scale from one to Vigo, how'd you rate this?"

"I'd give it a Gozer." She answered with a sincere fear in her voice.

"That's bad." Peter replied nonchalantly as this revelation wasn't exactly a surprise to the fairly jaded psychiatrist.

"Yeah."

"So what's in the bags?" Peter sat the brown parcels down on the billiard table and began rummaging through the collected items. Pulling out a large plastic white box he stared at it curiously. "Another first aid kit?"

"I figured we should restock." She motioned to the same bag with her hand. "There's also some alcohol, pain medicine and fresh water."

"Good choices." He dumped out the bag and looked disappointed. "No snacks?"

Smiling she gestured to the second bag. "Look inside."

With a childlike grin Peter tore into the bag and happily sorted through the various snacks and sweet treats. "You're the best!"

"I know." Slipping off her coat Dana proceeded to put away her gathered groceries. "So Oscar is safe, he and my sister are keeping calm and won't move until we give her the all clear."

"Good." Peter replied as he took a bite out of a snack cake. "Anything about Winston?" His question was muffled by the sweet content he was still chewing on.

"Yes, actually. I got ahold of him in Pittsburgh, he said that all flights into and out of New York have been cancelled because of the storm."

"What about the train?" Peter offered the alternative as he absentmindedly began watching the storm through the window behind Dana.

"He'll try, he also said it would only take him as far as Jersey and even then all the roads into the city have been shut down. If he does make it by train he's going to be on foot the rest of the way."

"Good thing he's so athletic." Peter chimed as he dusted the various sugary crumbs from his hands. "Now, my dear sweet, beautiful bride, do we have a task for you!"

Dana shot Peter an unsure glance before giving him a trusting smile. "I'm not going to turn into a dog again, am I?"

"No. Just a cat." He teased without missing a beat. "We're just going to need all hands on deck for this one. You have some talented hands."

"Peter, don't lie to me and don't try to sugar coat it." She approached him and wrapped her arms around him tightly. "We're running out of time, aren't we? Us. The city. The world... It's all on the line, isn't it?"

Rather than answer Peter chose to reciprocate her hug and kissed her forehead.

"I knew it." She buried her face into his shoulder and let his strong arms hold her.

Embraced in a hug of love and of trust the newlywed couple simply enjoyed having each other in that dire moment as the storm outside swirled uncontrollably. The wind gusted and howled outside the old firehouse, the lights flickered and the sound of the back up generators whirring to life to compensate for the failing power filled the old brick structure with an angry growl that mirrored the inhabitants' frustrations.

...to be continued...