A.N.: Last chapter folks. Sincerely hope you like it. Same warnings for language, themes, etc. Also, I'm going to get really a.u. here at the end, but I'll explain myself afterwards. Nothing offensive, so don't get nervous.

7

"…By Any Other Name"

Holtzmann really didn't want to be awake.

Wakefulness was only coming in about ten minute increments, but what wretched intervals they were. Her head ached like someone had used it for a piñata. Her ribs sent little spikes of pain radiating whenever she breathed to deep. The incision in her abdomen managed to be both sore and itchy.

And she was pretty sure she was going to puke again. She mustered every ounce of willpower trying to prevent it because-well, absurdly she wasn't so afraid of the pain that would accompany the heaves as she feared her stitches might pop or her ribs finally burst through her chest like a scene from 'Alien' or her head might just finally explode altogether.

The doctor kept reminding her she was 'lucky'. She wondered what the hell 'unlucky' felt like. She was generally as miserable as she's ever been in her life, including the two times she'd given herself electric shocks building her gadgets and the time she'd eaten that strange green stuff out of the dumpster of a Korean restaurant dumpster back in her days of living on the street.

Somebody sat something on her chest, which was the instant Holtzmann realized she still had her eyes closed. She slowly opened just one eye to see a small pink basin resting there. Her eye followed the hand offering the basin up its arm to the face of the person offering it.

"Ugh-Erin. Quick, get a hammer. Finish me off," Jillian begged.

"Don't joke about that," Erin admonished her.

Holtzmann grunted, turning her face into the pillow as if she could hide from the nausea that threatened. "Not joking. Hammer. Now."

It was nearly midnight. Erin was sitting with Holtzmann while Abby and Patty got caught up on some much needed sleep. They had turned the scant space in the hospital room into a makeshift campsite. Abby was curled up in a sleeping bag on the floor while Patty was doing her best get comfortable on the tiny sofa.

Erin thought Holtz had gone back to sleep until she heard the muffled words. "Had a dream…some guy insulted my babies…" One blue eye peered at Erin over the folds of the pillow.

"If it makes you feel better, Dr. Menken was only unconscious for a little while...and he only needed one stitch for his lip," Erin said cheerfully.

The blue eye blinked once at her, then drifted shut again. "Coma guy number six. Terrific."

Erin sighed. She really wasn't very good at comforting people, even people she's close to, and she still felt a little awkward with Holtzmann. She hadn't yet developed the same rapport with that Abby and Patty seem to have with the eccentric engineer. "I thought it was five?"

"You forgot Martin Heiss."

It never crossed Erin's mind that Holtzmann would think Heiss' accident was her fault in any way. "I think he's my coma guy. I mean, I opened the trap."

"Technically I was still in the room."

Erin tried to change the subject. "I got you a present for when you're feeling better." She pulled a small paper bag from her purse and set it on the nightstand.

Holtzmann perked up a bit; she opened her eyes for a few seconds. The faint light was like a knife in her aching head, so she closed them again almost immediately. Just that little bit of motion threatened to set off another wave of nausea. "Is it those hydrospanners I've been asking for?" she asked.

"No, no, mostly because those only exist in Star Wars," Erin said.

Holtz smirked. "Darn…you figured that out."

Shortly after they'd formed the Ghostbusters, Holtzmann had found out that Erin rarely watched movies or television. The engineer quickly invented her own version of a 'snipe hunt'. It involved giving Erin a shopping list of items Holtz wanted her to purchase for the lab…invariably with one item that was some non-existent tool mentioned in some science fiction flick. After spending three hours one afternoon driving all the way to Maryland searching hardware stores for a 'hyposprayer' (apparently a 'Star Trek' gizmo of some kind, according to the obnoxious, pimple-pocked teenage clerk at the Costco), Erin finally got wise to Holtz's game.

"No, it's a new cell phone, since…" Erin cut herself off. She'd been about to say: since your old one melted.

Since Holtzmann woke up, they had all been carefully avoiding talking about Arthur Klein around her. She had naturally wanted to know how she'd ended up in the hospital. She remembered the ghost attack in her apartment up to the part where the toilet tank lid had connected with her skull, but after that Holtz's only recollection was waking up with a vice grip on Menken's mouth.

She had demanded to know the rest of the story; they had relented and told her most of what had happened only because their avoiding the question was making her more agitated and she needed to keep still and rest.

There were, of course, certain omissions to the story. They would not talk about the likelihood that Arthur hadn't survived inside the ghost trap. She didn't need to know yet. The Ghostbusters had not been privy to whatever he and Holtzmann had said to each other near the end. Those details were probably lost forever.

Holtzmann was mainly pissed off that she'd had an out of body experience-and telekinesis to boot-and couldn't remember it (Kevin had blabbed, which was why they had bundled him back to the firehouse with several decks of cards and instructions to build a nice house of cards in the corner under the ceiling fan).

She appreciated the gesture, but had to remind Erin: "Thanks, but unless it's a Tracfone you might have to return it. Can't afford a fancy cell phone."

"Company treat."

"In that case, I hope you signed me up for unlimited music streaming."

"Of course."

Holtzmann had nearly drifted back to sleep when a stray thought bubbled to her mind. She turned her head slightly so she could look at Erin again.

"Is he dead?" Holtzmann wanted to know. "Artie?"

She had the impression that her friends thought he might be dead. The traps weren't lethal for ghosts, not normally, not as far as Holtzmann knew. When they told her about trapping Arthur's ghost, Erin had made a point five different time that she had been the one who put Arthur's ghost in the trap. Her responsibility, not Abby or Patty and not Holtz's. Holtzmann had wondered why Erin kept harping on that detail. It was irrelevant who triggered the trap. It only mattered if Erin had reason to think Arthur wouldn't survive the trap.

Erin fidgeted in the chair, a sure sign that she was thinking up some way to change the subject, soften the blow, or simply deny it. Finally, she decided truth was best and simply said: "Honestly? I don't know."

Holtz seemed to accept that answer.

There was something else Erin had wanted to ask while she had Holtzmann to herself for a minute, something she would feel awkward discussing in front of Abby and Patty, but she really didn't know if this was the appropriate time. Holtzmann still wasn't completely lucid; Erin should just let her go back to sleep. On the other hand, maybe being groggy and heavily medicated would dull some of Holtzmann's defenses so that Erin could get a straight answer from the woman. It felt slightly like being sneaky.

Erin decided she could live with that.

"You know…about that…" she began

Holtzmann waited.

"I saw on your phone that you tried to call me when Artie was att-" Erin rephrased it. "-back at your apartment. I mean, you called the firehouse first, which is absolutely what I would have done, too, but then you tried to call me…" Erin put her head in her hands so Holtz wouldn't see her ears turning red. She was rambling like a moron. "…I'm just…I was surprised…but, I'm happy that you would have trusted me, you know, to help in your hour of need and all. I think it shows we've come al-"

She saw Holtzmann had a strange look on her face.

"-what? What's that face? You're going to poop on my joy bubble, aren't you? You're going to say you were going to prank call me once more before the afterlife or something? I've been thinking we were starting to become real friends here and I was an accidental butt dial, wasn't I?"

Holtzmann weakly waved a hand to cut off her tirade. It was making her headache worse. "No, no. Easy there. Dial down the neurosis." She closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, she stared blearily at the ceiling, avoiding Erin's gaze. "The truth? You're not going to like it."

Erin said nothing. Holtzmann assumed that was a 'yes'.

"I didn't think any of you were going to get there in time," she admitted.

Erin felt something like a fist squeezing her heart.

"I was pretty sure I was going to die. I mean, die horribly. Like, Artie was going to rip me apart, and you'd be finding pieces of me in the Fichus kind of horrible death." Holtzmann was turning a bit pale recalling it.

"We shouldn't be talking about this right now," Erin already regretted asking.

"You and Patty…Patty can deal with anything. She's like that." Holtzmann observed. "And you…you got that way of being all…clinical…when you need to be. I know you and Patty could deal with that. I knew Abby couldn't. I tried to call you because I wanted you to be there first…I didn't want Abby to be the one."

That was literally the last thing Erin had expected Holtz to say. All she could say in response was: "Oh."

Holtzmann continued to stare at the ceiling, her cheeks flushing red against her too-pale skin. "I said you wouldn't like it.

The silence became awkward again. Erin wished everything didn't have to be awkward with her and Holtzmann. Maybe someday it wouldn't be. "Actually…I'm still choosing to take that as a compliment."

"Whatever floats your boat profes-" Holtzmann started to answer. She stopped and clutched at her stomach suddenly, eyes opening wide. Erin knows immediately she was going to be sick. Erin rushed to help her sit up, grabbing the basin for her.

Holtzmann's vision was still blurry. She missed the basin, in fact, she missed the bed entirely and ended up puking on Erin's shoes instead.

"Sorry," she coughed.

"S'okay." Erin patted her shoulder. "It's kind of predictable by now."

"Morning, sunshine!" Patty's enthusiastic boom in the tiny hospital room effectively quashed Holtmann's brooding.

It had been a few days since her surgery; Holtzmann was feeling markedly better-at least, she was mostly lucid and could stay awake for more than ten minutes at a time. She had hounded Dr. Menken to let her go home, but he seemed determined to keep her prisoner there. The other Ghostbusters were on the doctor's side, and that was that. Holtzmann would have no choice but to smuggle herself out in a laundry cart and barricade herself in her lab.

Holtzmann grunted in response to Patty's cheerful greeting. She'd never been a morning person even when she wasn't sporting a head injury and cracked ribs. She supposed she should be grateful that she still had her spleen at least (although the upside of a splenectomy would be that Holtzmann could have had some serious fun freaking people out by keeping it in a jar in her lab. She did have a reputation for being crazy to uphold, after all.).

This morning hasn't started off well to boot. Holtzmann had been reading the newspaper that Kevin delivered with the donut shop coffee. Inside the paper was the article she had hoped not to see: The notice that Arthur Klein, renowned nuclear physicist, had passed away after a three year coma.

Abby swore that they had done everything they could to stop Artie, but he was just too far gone. She added that Holtz had risked her own life trying to reason with Klein when it was apparent that he was beyond reasoning. Erin maintained that she was the one who decided to open the trap on him, the decision that ultimately ended his existence. She'd apologized until Holtz had finally threatened her with bodily harm if she didn't stop begging forgiveness when there was no reason for her to be sorry.

"How ya feeling, baby?" Patty pulled the chair up to the bed, grinning widely to find her friend awake and looking a little bit better. She kept her voice down in deference to Abby, who was still curled up asleep on the sofa. "Erin's grabbing us some food, and I brought your robe…the nurses are tired of Bugs giving them the finger every time you don't feel like taking your medicine."

Wincing, Holtzmann tried sitting up, but her ribs protested and her vision swam a bit, threatening a fresh bout of nausea. Patty helped her rearrange the pillows and settle into a somewhat more comfortable position, feeling just the tiniest bit guilty. "Still pretty sore? Sorry."

"For what? I'm grateful, believe me. I hear you saved my life…again." Holtzmann said. "This is getting ridiculous. Soon as I'm out of here, you have to give me a chance to even the score. Let me push you out of the path of a bus or throw myself on a grenade or something."

Patty smiled. "It's nice to have a conversation with you that doesn't rely on using Kevin as your interpreter." Her smile faded a bit when she saw that the newspaper is open to the obituary for Artie. There was nothing she could say that was going to make Holtzmann feel better. It was so much easier busting ghosts when you didn't know them personally. "Kevin told us what Artie said to you about the accident."

Holtzmann uttered an oath. She wasn't sure if she was mad because her secret was out, that she couldn't remember anything she and Arthur had said to each other, or because Arthur had forced them to drastic measures. Collectively, it all aggravated her. She was glad the Ghostbusters were the only ones who knew what had become of Arthur after the coma. They would never tell his family. However, if her friends got it into their heads to clear Jillian's reputation in the science community, everything she had sacrificed trying to protect Artie's family, his son, would be for nothing. "You're not going to tell CERN-?"

Patty shook her head. "You got to trust us. That's not our decision to make, Holtz. If you want to take the blame, we'll respect that. It's just not fair to have your life ruined because of that fool."

Holtzmann looked at her best friend as she slept on the uncomfortable couch in the corner. She saw the other chairs in the room, piled with blankets and pillows where Patty and Erin had camped out for the past week. One of the other Ghostbusters had been with Holtzmann at all times since she'd been brought to the hospital, not wanting her to be alone. Nobody had cared about her like that since…she supposed her adopted parents were the last ones to care that much.

The tiny hospital room had been overloaded with balloons and stuffed animals sent by well-wishers after news broke about the Ghostbuster being injured in a fight with a specter. Kevin told her there were three more mail bags stuffed with cards and letters waiting for her at the firehouse. Her neighbor, Brian, had played up Holtzmann saving his daughter from the ghost-they had sent her a bear with tiny felt fangs sewn on to its mouth. Holtzmann had dubbed the bear 'Mr. Snickers II'.

For the moment, it didn't seem to her that things had turned out so badly in the end. "Maybe I don't see ruins."

Patty smiled. "Okay, well…hold that thought."

Holtzmann was wary. "Why…what'd you do?"

She suddenly spied the large manila envelope tucked in Patty's handbag. It was stamped with some kind of very official-looking government seal. "Don't be mad," Patty asked.

"Don't do something that's going to make me mad."

Patty took a deep breath. "Here it is: This whole business with you almost-" She couldn't bring herself to say the actual word 'dying'. It still sent a shiver of terror down her spine how close Holtzmann had come to death—several times over-in the past few days. "You know I love you all, right? You and Erin and Abby, and Kevin too, you're family to me. I'd do just about anything for any one of you."

She pulled the envelope from her bag and offered it to Holtzmann. "Abby told me you've been looking for this for a long time, so I called in one of our favors with the mayor."

"What is it?" Holtzmann was nervous now. Maybe they had ratted her out to CERN and Globaldyne after all.

Patty was blunt: "It's your adoption file and your birth certificate."

"What?!" Holtzmann yelped louder than intended. She tried to sit up, until her body reminded her that wasn't a good idea.

Abby woke immediately at her friend's shout, reflexively reaching for the empty place on her belt where the proton wand would normally hang even before she was fully awake. "Wha-? Jillian-?"

"She's fine," Patty said.

"Sorry, Abs," Holtzmann added. She stared at Patty in disbelief. "This is my adoption file?"

"You don't have to look at it if it's too weird for you…I just thought you should have it, just in case."

This was too weird. Jillian fingered the envelope. She'd always had mixed feelings about looking for her birth parents. The Holtzmanns were her parents as far as she was concerned. Her biological parents had given her up. Her foster families hadn't known what to do with the strange, brilliant little girl. The Holtzmanns were the only ones who had wanted Jillian unconditionally as their own.

After all the times Holtz had tried and failed to find information on her biological family, she had finally given up. She never expected to have the file in her hand like this.

"What does it say?" she asked Patty.

"I wouldn't read it-look, it's sealed."

"Patty…"

"Okay, fine, I peeked, but only because I wasn't going to be able to stand it if you decided not to open it or set it on fire or something. But, I'm not telling you anything. You want to know you look for yourself." Patty leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms, resolute.

Holtzmann hesitated for a very long time. Finally, she tore open the seal and hesitantly pulled out the file folder inside. She was still having trouble keeping her eyes focused with the concussion and pain killers messing her up. She held out the folder to Abby, beckoning her to come sit. "Still having a little trouble focusing. Read it for me, Abs?"

Abby perched on the end of the bed, thumbing through the file. "It says…well, the good news is your biological mom is still alive. She's a retired school teacher living in Delaware. But, your biological father passed away a couple of months after you were born. Sorry, Jillian."

Holtzmann was a bit disappointed to hear it. She had no idea how she should be feeling to hear about the loss of a father she never even met.

"Your parents weren't married," Abby continued. "In fact, looks like there was some confusion about who your dad was. There are a couple of paternity tests in here."

"Ooh…mom was a bad girl. Nice!" Holtzmann grinned.

Erin chose that moment to make her return, bearing a breakfast tray loaded with yogurt, fruit, and Jell-O. "Dr. Menken threatened to ban us from the hospital if we snuck you a donut, Holtz. Sorry. You can pick from red, yellow, or orange Jell-O. What did I miss?"

"Paternity tests," Patty said.

That answer confused Erin all the more. "Is one of us pregnant?"

"No, not for us. It's Holtz's adoption file." Patty snatched a cup of yogurt from the tray.

"Bachelor number one was a Louis Tully. Oh, wow, yikes…" Abby bit her tongue at the inadvertent gaff, realizing she could have been talking about Holtz's dad. "…sorry, just, he must not photograph well. Bachelor number two is…oh, a doctor! Dr. Egon Spengler." Abby frowned. Who names their kid 'Egon'? "Physicist, 160 I.Q. Do I even need to tell you who won the paternal lottery?"

"I've actually heard of him," Erin said. "He's your dad? That explains so much..."

"Yeah, yeah, get to Holtzmann's mom, Abby," P urged. "This is like Days of Our Lives meets Big Bang Theory."

A continued, "Okay, drumroll: Jillian Holtzmann was born Jillian Melnitz."

Holtzmann wrinkled her nose a bit. "My name is 'Melnitz'?"

"No offense, but I think we'll keep calling you Holtzmann," Patty agreed.

"Janine Melnitz. It says she put you up for adoption because…oh, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer right after your father passed away. God, she must have thought she was going to die, too. She wanted to find a family to take care of you after she was gone. Only, turns out she's a survivor like her daughter." Abby squeezed Jillian's leg.

"So, I'm Jillian Spengler-Melnitz Holtzmann?"

"Whoah, that is not going to fit on your jumpsuit. We'll have to get you a name badge the size of a license plate," Patty says.

"At least you know who she is now. You could look her up if you wanted," Erin suggested.

"Eh," Holtzmann scratched her head nervously. "I don't know. I'm kind of in the middle of recovering from my last blast from the past. Maybe it's better to leave it alone."

"Family is still family," Abby said.

Agreeing wholeheartedly, Holtzmann reached out and pulled Abby and Patty the two closest (and surprised) Ghostbusters into a grateful hug, only wincing a little bit at the tug on her stomach and ribs. She waved to Erin. "Come on, professor, get over here. I promise not to puke on you this time."

Erin rolled her eyes. "You know, we were this close to having a moment…if you just hadn't mentioned puke."

Which didn't stop Erin from collecting her hug.

Fin

** Author's Note: This last bit was for my own amusement. When I saw the first photos from the new movie, Holtzmann just reminded me of Egon from the "Real Ghostbusters" cartoon with that wild blonde hair and those goggles, so I couldn't resist. It's AU, so I figured I'd indulge myself.