Egon floated in dirty freezing water, phone on the bedside table ringing as a barefoot woman, lank dark hair flowing about her increasingly indistinct face, lace dress dripping on the floor passed the bright rectangle of light that was the door of his hospital room, paused to look at him before fading away, monitors quietly functioning…

…hands, one with an 8 ball tattoo drifting in the muddy water as his face ground away in the gurgling, rushing darkness, cell by cell by cell by cell… the phone falling off the hook untouched… the smell of burning electrical insulation...

… a frigid hand against his face, resting there as his mother's had when he came to at 14 in a hospital somewhere in Massachusetts after his appendix ruptured, peritonitis nearly killing him so that the Boogey Man who followed him to MIT would have to go hungry for a month…

… his mother sat in the darkened room crying – something she never did, his father flatly stating, "Crying about this is irrational; he didn't die." as he mechanically patted her shoulder, voice his usual monotone, face blank, for once not registering icy approval or disapproval, and his mother had screamed at his father, "God dammit, for once, just for once could you be a normal human being? We almost lost him – our son, OUR SON, nearly DIED!"

…of his father slowly removing his hand and stiffly walking out of the room, face blanker than ever…his mother regaining her usual composure…

…Egon wanted to tell her that he loved them both but what would saying it prove? Of the mashed Twinkie on his hospital pillow, a tinny voice washing out of the phone receiver, "You found it! I thought that bitch of a nurse ate it after all the trouble I went to!"

...the smell of burning electrical insulation...

,.. of his mother coming in, snatching it away from him, and dropping it in to the trash - static coming out the phone receiver as "Damn, I could have eaten it – I saved it from my school lunch after I heard what happened … (static)…stole…. old man's wallet… rode the train (static) bitches at the front desk (static) wouldn't let me see you… (static) not (static) family…. Snuck in when you were sleeping…( static)… nothing to eat all weekend…"

…his mother's voice saying "Don't eat that, you don't know where it's been!"

…of riding to the hospital in the beat up Venkmann station wagon, head on Peter's aunt's lap, with her stroking his hair as Peter's uncle swerved through traffic to the Emergency Room, the chubby woman with the kind face cooing, "Go ahead, I know it hurts boy-o, I know it hurts, nobody minds if you cry around here boy-o, nobody minds, let it out, I know it hurts…" as a tall, awkward boy in a bow tie and unfashionable pompadour doubled up vomiting from the pain in the back seat, right side burning… of a sudden hot explosion in his right side as they lay him on the County Hospital emergency room examination table, followed by a brief moment of painless clarity all too quickly interrupted by a different kind of pain when a gush of pus and digestive juices flooded his belly, Thanksgiving Dinner at Peter Venkmann's aunt and uncle's people-dog-cat-children-goldfish-hamster crowded little house interrupted when the growing ache that had been mildly inconveniencing him all week blossomed in the middle of the meal, knocking him to his knees out of the chair where he had been sitting trying to keep track of all the names and faces,…

…the receiver blasted out static, "…you got turkey? Shit, all I got was stale Fritos!"

…and a cold, wet hand rested against his cheek making him shiver even as he pressed into it, the receiver giving off static, and the tinny sound like running water…

…8-ball hand floating past his milky eyes, "(static) I can't remember my name… (static)…I think the river (static) washed it away…"

...the smell of burning electrical insulation...

… the hand against Egon's cheek warmed. He opened his eyes, squinting, the red-headed outline against the hall doorway pulled it's hand away, Egon squinted harder, hands itching and burning, the flu a dull ache in the background, "Janine?"

"I brought your other glasses up from New York on my way to the Hope Bridge." Janine's hands were deep in her coat pockets, she scowled, or so he thought, "Ray told me you melted 'em. Again."

Egon managed to put them on. Janine and the bedside monitors came into focus. Yes, she was scowling, "Hope Bridge?"

"Ray called at 2 am., got me right out of bed," Janine scanned the dim room, "He says, "Hey, we got a problem, ship us the spare packs and meters Overnight, the wiring on the ones we have just got fried, and by the way Egon tried to electrocute himself again and his glasses are toast –so ship us the spares if you can find 'em." – so of course there's over two feet of snow on the ground and I can't get a delivery truck to come to the station for pickup – so I loaded 'em all in the back of my car; took me nearly HOURS what with the bad weather– and… oh my Gawd, this hospital is a DUMP, nothing like Manhattan- water all over the floor and the phone off the hook the whole place smells like a burning Tupperware lid, and…and…

…

…

"...Ray said you nearly died in the ambulance."

"I didn't."

"Gee, is that all you can say... oh, fugheddaboutit! - I gotta job to do!" Janine paused in mid-stomp, and scowling, reached out to touch Egon's face, snapping, "I don't know why I bother sometimes!" before retreating back into the brightly lit hallways where a janitor was mopping up a trail of water on the floor in front of his room. Egon, trying to figure out what was wrong with Janine, noticed that the phone on the bedside table was indeed, off the hook - the cord connecting it to the wall looked burned and there was no dial tone.