Disclaimer: I still don't own "Ghostbusters" (wish I did). See chapter 1 for full disclaimer.
5
One Little Slip
They'd made their way to Winston's family home in upstate Virginia. He'd promised them that the rustic house was completely off the grid-it ran off solar power and the identity of the homeowner was buried in a sea of trust deeds and other paperwork that would daunt the most persistent bureaucrat.
Jagannath and Slimer had yet to make an appearance. Until they did, the Ghostbusters would not have an answer as to where they'd hidden the Cintamani and why.
Kim Zeddemore had clung to Jillian for a good five minutes. "Winston told me-but I still can't get over it," she said apologetically. Holtzmann had to sit and retell the story for her while the kindly woman plied her with hot tea.
The Ghostbusters had left the warehouse in such a hurry that Holtzmann had forgotten to grab the change of clothing that Winston gave her. Kim brought one of her own sweaters and soft sweat pants, guessing she and Jillian were about the same size, and directed her to the upstairs guest room to change.
Holtzmann was grateful for the opportunity to slip away. Once the adrenaline of the fight with Kevin wore off, the wounds on her back began to throb. She rummaged in the medicine cabinet, hoping the Zeddemores would forgive the intrusion, until she found some ibuprofen and downed a couple of the tablets. They'd stopped at a gas station on the way to the cabin to buy bandages, but the pads were already soaked with blood. Jillian frowned. She was going to need help changing the dressings…
Two large, emerald eyes were suddenly staring back at her from the mirror.
"Where's my ghost rock, you little blue booger?" Holtzmann asked him.
The ghost blinked at her.
"You want to tell me why you hid it?" she persisted.
The ghost actually seemed to be fidgeting. "Protect Honored One."
"That's great. Is that why you ripped up my back? Go ahead, take a look in the mirror. See what a naughty ghost looks like," she scolded the blue ghost.
Jagannath popped out of the mirror, floating behind her to sniff at her shoulders and the bloody bandages. He stared balefully at the human woman. Holtzmann made a point of avoiding eye contact. "Nope. I'm mad at you. You lost my medallion, and you used me for a scratching post. Beat it."
The blue ghost made a pitiful little wail and wrapped itself around her shins like a puppy beseeching attention. He turned his large eyes on her again.
Holtzmann relented. "Fine, I forgive you. Now shoo. I'm not undressing with you in here."
Keening happily, Jagannath glided into the hallway and down the stairs. Seconds later, Jillian heard the folks in the living room shout and the crash of dinner plates being overturned
She decided to forgo the sweater until she could change the bloody bandages. No point in ruining Kim's nice clothing. She put on the sweatpants and threw a towel over her shredded camisole top.
The bandages would have to wait. She wasn't in the mood for more fussing right then. There was a more pressing puzzle that had been vexing her for too long. She didn't like to be vexed. She never let riddles or problems continue unsolved; she made them her bitches.
Hoping again for forgiveness, she found a laptop in one of the bedrooms and cracked the password for the machine after only a couple of attempts. Holtzmann figured she could hack the S.D.A. central server for less than thirty seconds before they'd detect the intrusion, and less than two minutes before they'd trace her location. Conservatively. She'd have to do the best she could.
Ninety seconds later, she disconnected from the government site with the files she wanted. Luckily, the Rorke and Hawkins in this timeline used precisely the same user i.d. and password as their counterparts in Holtzmann's dimension (luckier still that the wonder twins had never got wise to the fact that she'd stolen that information from them the same day they'd dragged the Ghostbusters downtown to be threatened by Mayor Bradley).
Holtzmann knew she wasn't going to like what she found. She was right. The schematics for the weapon that killed Jillian Spengler were right there in the first file.
The file had been created by Dr. Jillian Spengler…and Dr. Arthur Klein.
It was all that Holtzmann needed to see. She could fill in the blanks for herself. She was surprised that she hadn't figured it out from the very beginning.
Holtzmann already knew that Jillian Spengler was part of the Spectral Defense Agency right along with Abby, Erin, and Patty. Jillian had created the weapon that ultimately ended her life. Obviously, that had been an unintentional consequence. Her original schematics called for a device that was simply a larger-scale version of the ghost grenades, meant to fend off a full out invasion of specters. It would have been more efficient than slugging it out with the ghosts in hand-to-hand combat like her team had done during Rowan's cataclysm.
Jillian's mistake had been partnering with Arthur Klein. Holtzmann was willing to bet that Artie had been the one to consent to Director Peck and Senator Gorin's push for an even larger scale weapon with more power, just the same as her Artie had tried to revamp Holtzmann's designs for the Hadron Collider back home. In the end, just as with the collider, Klein's alterations to Spengler's design had caused a catastrophic failure. In this timeline, it was Jillian and not Artie who had been killed preventing the disaster.
Holtzmann sighed. Even in this universe, the two of them were better sex partners than lab partners.
Something cold pressed against her back, startling her out of her brooding. She jumped, letting out a sharp yelp. "Mom, I'm f-"
"You're bleeding again."
It was Egon, not Janine. Jillian tried to turn, but he laid a hand on her shoulder, indicating that she should not move. "The wounds are mostly superficial. I was concerned they might require sutures, but I don't think that will be necessary. Good thing-I have no doubt that you could handle it, but if I tried to stitch you up here and now, your mother would have a conniption fit."
He was talking to distract her from the sting as he carefully removed the soiled bandages, washed out the cuts, and applied antibiotic ointment to the torn skin. "What you did was very brave, but extremely dangerous."
"Were you worried, Egon?" she smirked at him.
"Of course. You are my daughter, after all."
The smirk disappeared abruptly.
Egon noted that she'd procured a computer. "I take it you found what you were looking for?"
"We were all part of the S.D.A.-in the beginning." Egon opened the first aid kit and tore open the pack of gauze. "Obviously, Ray, Peter, Winston, and I can't single-handedly protect the entire planet from spectral invasion. We needed help. Besides, the years catch up with you after a while. If the government was set upon creating its own branch devoted to defense against spectral activity, it would make sense for us to act as their consultants. There simply isn't anyone on the planet with as much expertise in that area as the four of us."
Finishing his work, Egon went to the closet and found a bathrobe. He handed it to Holtzmann and sat down on the small bed beside her chair.
"Jillian believed in the humane capture and treatment of ghosts. We raised her that way. She also realized that humane treatment wasn't always an option when dealing with malevolent specters and apocalyptic attacks such as the invasion of Gozer and the Fourth Cataclysm of Rowan North. Her designs were meant for defense, but the S.D.A. intended to pervert them." Egon met Holtzmann's gaze. "Don't judge us too harshly. The S.D.A. got the better of all of us."
She shook her head. "I get it."
"I-regret that you're trapped in our universe, Jillian," he admitted. "I'm sure you miss your friends and family."
She didn't deny it. "Jagannath isn't talking. If we don't figure out how to call off the S.D.A. or get our hands on that Cintamani rock, I'm not going to be in this timeline very long. They'll eventually send a competent agent after me."
"It's critical that the Cintamani stone does not end up in their custody," Egon told her. "Clearly, when we find it, we have to destroy it."
She raised her eyebrow.
"Jillian-of all of us, you understand the ripple effect of one change in the timeline. There's no 'safe' way we could ever use that stone. I want you to promise me, Jillian," Egon took her hand, his expression one of unflinching seriousness.
She was confused. "Promise you what?"
"The Cintamani's not the only artifact capable of reshaping reality to the will of whoever wields it. Promise me that if you find the Cintamani-or any other wish-fulfilling paranormal object-you'll never attempt to use it to bring me back in your timeline? No more wishes to spend time with me, no wishes that I'd never died," he requested.
Holtzmann opened her mouth to retort, but Egon cut her off: "I've considered this since the moment we met yesterday. I believe that there are unalterable points in every timeline, real or potential. I believe that one such point hinges around you and I…our potential deaths. Were you to attempt to bring me—bring your Egon-back into your timeline, your destiny would be altered and your death is a very real potential consequence. I am entirely confident that your father would have preferred his death to yours. Certainly, I would have preferred that my daughter had survived."
He laid a hand on Jillian's cheek his thumb wiping at a stray tear that had fallen. "When we find the Cintamani, use it to return to your home…and then wish it into the heart of the sun if you need to, but promise me you will destroy it."
"Dad-"
"Promise." Egon knelt in front of her chair. His tone was stern and brooked no argument. "Jillian."
She leaned down and put her arms around his neck, hugging fiercely, happy that he returned it.
A wave of dizziness hit her suddenly. It was the same feeling she'd had back at the firehouse when she was pulled into this universe.
She sagged forward; Egon felt her falling off her chair and the hug suddenly turned to catching his daughter before she hit the floor. "Jillian?!" He guided her over to sit on the bed, helped her stay upright. She closed her eyes as her vision swam. "What's wrong?" he pressed.
"Have this feeling-" Holtzmann's mind was filling again with images, like two lives flashing before her eyes: She was knocking on Abby's door at the Higgins Institute for the first time, there to apply for the lab assistant job; she was a sixteen-year-old graduating from high school; she was a twelve-year-old, sleeping on the streets of New York with Gary and Marion and her other homeless friends.
Holtzmann tried to shake the onslaught of images from his mind, but it only came faster.
She was freaking Erin out by setting a roll of paper towels on fire with a blow torch; Rorke was pointing at rifle at her while Voga Ra'El controlled her; she was facing giant Ghost Rowan during the Fourth Cataclysm; she was arguing with Arthur Klein about their upgrades to the Large Hadron Collider; Kevin was barbequing Christmas Eve dinner for the Ghostbusters; Abby, Erin, and Patty were leaning over her when she woke up from her coma…
The dizziness did not abate, and more images overwhelmed her: She was sleeping with Artie; doctors at the mental hospital were leaning over her, promising she'd be all right as bright hospital lights blinded her and pain lanced through her body like she was being ripped in half; Kevin was knocking her lab chemicals onto the floor; jabbing the taser-fork against Cousin Barbie's side when the woman wouldn't stop insulting Abby; pulling Erin away from the vortex that Rowan had spawned with his machinery; more doctors and nurses leaning over her, telling her to breathe through the agony because it was "too late to give her anything for the pain"…
Holtzmann's eyes snapped open. That last memory had not been there before.
Egon felt the tension in her body before she finally opened her eyes. He heard her mutter a curse.
"Jillian?" He pulled back, watching her with concern.
She pushed herself off the bed, still swaying as she got to her feet. "I know where the Cintamani Stone is," Holtzmann told him.
She hurried from the room, Egon on her heels, and raced downstairs to the living room where the rest of their extended family was gathered.
Kim greeted her with a wave. "Jillian! Have some cider-"
Holtzmann didn't appear to have heard her. The younger woman glanced around the room, but didn't see the face she was looking for. She headed to the guest bathroom, which was empty, and then back up the stairs to the bedrooms.
One door was closed and locked. Holtzmann pounded on that door, yelling: "Janine! Mom!"
The others started to follow Holtzmann, but Egon shook his head, waving them off.
"Mom! Whatever you're doing in there, stop! Now!"
She reached to pull one of her hairpins and jimmy the lock, but Egon solved the problem by simply kicking the door open.
Janine was sitting on the bed, the Cintamani medallion in her hand.
GBGBGBGBGBGBGB
Abby made her way down to the basement of the Higgins Institute. Surely, if Rowan were doing something weird down there, someone would have noticed by now? If nothing else, the Dean should have stumbled across Rowan's work by now (he had his own personal recording studio in one of these sub-levels, that was common knowledge among the faculty).
As she descended the stairs, Abby could make out the distinct hum of machinery. There's light coming from under the door. She hesitated. She ought to call campus security…except the only guard on duty on Christmas Eve was ninety-years old had a heart condition.
Still, she really shouldn't go in there alone, and Abby knew it. This was the Dean's problem. Let him handle it. Except there was no way he'd believe that Abby wasn't involved in whatever Rowan was doing behind this door.
She knocked on the door, then wondered why she was knocking. "Rowan? Are you here? Sweetie, I'm not trying to stifle your creativity, but we're definitely going to lose our grant money if you cause the Apocalypse. That's all I'm saying. Rowan?"
There was no answer. She tried the door—it was locked, of course. She tried kicking it like people did in the movies and nearly shattered the bones in her foot. She hopped around on the other foot, cursing, until the throbbing subsided.
"You need a key."
Abby was fairly sure she was having a heart attack. Her assistant's arrival had been drowned out by the thrum of the machine. "Jeez…Rowan, don't sneak up on me!"
Rowan half-bowed. "My apologies."
She forced a smile, though the way he was staring at her was only making her more nervous. "I was looking for you."
Rowan pursed his lips. "Dr. Gilbert must have informed you of our little conversation. I hope you aren't offended, Abigail, but I did approach you first, if you recall?"
Abby shook her head, sincerely apologetic. "No, no, I get it. I think maybe I dismissed your ideas a little too fast. That wasn't okay, and I'm sorry."
Rowan cocked his head, giving her a quizzical stare. His mouth quirked into a not-quite smile. "I accept your apology."
"Oh good." She pointed to the door. "Can I see the machine? I promise to be more open-minded this time."
He was doubtful, but consented. "Of course."
Rowan unlocked the door and led the way into the basement. Abby wondered how she was going to get out of there without dying, but she followed him. Not much else she could do with the fate of the world at stake.
Maybe she should have recorded a message on her cell phone so that the school would at least know where to look for her body…
The machine was a gigantic device, part Steampunk, part Jules Verne. Tesla coils sparked with energy. The central component was a boiler that had malfunctioned and been replaced. Abby gaped. "Rowan…"
Rowan spread his arms, gesturing to encompass the giant device proudly. "Breathtaking, isn't it? Would you like to see more?"
"No, I'm good…" Abby declined.
Ignoring her, Rowan moved to pull back curtains that hung from the walls. Behind the coverings, the room was lined with mirrors…
…hundreds of ghosts stared back at Abby from behind the glass.
She managed not to scream. Part of her rejoiced that she'd been right all these years—ghosts were real. Then, her common sense reminded her that hundreds of ghosts waiting to cross the spectral barrier into her dimension was the epitome of the word 'bad'. "Oh my god."
"I told you that I could help you prove your theories, Abigail. I've been charging the ley lines for weeks now. I was going to surprise you for Christmas."
"You definitely did that." Abby struggled to regain her composure. If she betrayed how freaked out she was, there was no telling what Rowan would do. "Can I add a small wrinkle to the plan? Rowan, it's Christmas Eve. I know people can suck. We both get dumped on more than our fair share, but it's still Christmas Eve. Peace and goodwill towards men. Charlie Brown Christmas on t.v.; Santa Claus at the mall. Maybe it's not a good day for the end of the world? Maybe we do it on Tuesday? Next year?"
Rowan was unmoved by the cloying rationalization. "Why put off to tomorrow what you can do today? Do you think those people and their paper-wrapped tributes to avarice make me feel so much as a twinge of sympathy?"
"Oh boy, here comes the rant…" Abby braced herself.
"They gorge themselves and justify it by ladling soup to the destitute. The pile themselves with golden jewelry and congratulate themselves for giving stained and torn leftover clothing to the needy. That's their holiday. My holiday is bringing them the reward their self-preoccupation merits." He gestured to the writhing spirits. The intensity in Rowan's voice increased with each word. "We will show them all the compassion they've ever shown us. We'll give as much mercy as they've given us. The city will be green with the glow of justice and red with the blood of the wreck of humanity…"
Abby's mouth dropped open as she marveled at the true depths of his insanity. "Wow. Just…wow. Okay, stop for a minute. God, I feel like I've had this conversation with you before. Rowan, maybe they're scum, but you're not. I mean, clearly this plan isn't a good example, but I know you've got some shreds of decency left in there somewhere. You don't work with someone for three years and not learn a little about them. What about me? Am I part of the wreck of humanity?"
For just an instant, his gaze softened to something not quite affectionate. "No, which is why I offered you the chance to be at my side for this."
Abby seized on that moment of hesitation. "And that was mighty thoughtful of you. But, if I'm not so wicked, you think maybe there are others who aren't so wicked? Maybe who don't deserve to be butchered?"
Rowan thought for a few seconds. Then he shook his head. "No. Screw them all."
He reached for the lever that would fire up the machine and begin the spectral invasion.
GBGBGBGBGBGBGB
Holtzmann rushed to tear the Cintamani medallion out of Janine's hands. "What are you doing?! I'm supposed to be the crazy one!"
Egon stared at his wife in shock. "Janine? How long have you had that?!"
Janine smiled sadly at them. "Jagannath brought it to me this morning while everyone was sleeping. I was going to give it to you after…I just didn't want you to go so soon, Jillian. How'd you know?"
Holtzmann frowned. "You put something in my timeline that wasn't there before," she accused. "Did you think I wouldn't know?"
Egon was still reeling. "What? Janine, how could you do that after-you didn't wish for their Egon to come back? We talked about apocalyptic consequences! Jillian, whatever it is she changed, we'll fix it…"
"You can't 'fix' this," Holtzmann shook her head.
Janine was unapologetic, even in the face of her daughter and her husband's fury. "I meant what I said. I was going to give it back to you, Jillian. I was going to send you home. I have to. The S.D.A. tried to kill you again. They'll never leave you alone. I wanted a couple of days with you, just like you wanted a couple of days with your father. I wanted you to have a happy life when you did go home, to have the things our Jillian will never have: A real family, a good life, a safe life, happiness, even if we can't be there to share it with you."
Holtzmann tried hard to hang on to the bubbling anger. "I have a good life there, Mom. But this-"
"I'll put it back the way it was-"Janine held out her hand for the medallion.
"No!" Holtzmann's eyes flashed renewed anger at the suggestion. "I said you can't fix this. Leave it alone."
"Are you sure?" Egon felt badly out of the loop for whatever secret these two were sharing. He wouldn't force his daughter to share if she didn't wish to…but the idea of sending her back to a timeline that Janine had altered disturbed him.
"I'm sure."
He reluctantly accepted that. "We need to send you home and destroy that stone before it causes any more harm."
Holtzmann agreed.
She just needed to be sure her parents would be safe when she was gone.
GBGBGBGBGBGBGB
"Director Gilbert? I have Jillian Holtzmann on the line for you."
The receptionist couldn't have surprised Erin more if she'd walked into her office and announced that Martians had just landed on the roof. "Is that a joke?" she asked.
The receptionist didn't dignify that with an answer.
Erin reached for her phone. "All right, put it through-and make sure that the call is traced."
"Already working on it, ma'am."
The phone beeped. Erin waited for three rings, making sure there was time for the trace to begin before she picked up. "Director Gilbert."
"Mele Kalikimaka, Erin," Jillian greeted her cheerfully.
"Doctor Holtzmann. You realize that you're on my naughty list now?"
Holtzmann sounded proud of herself when she apologized: "Yeah, sorry I Beckham-ed you boyfriend's ornaments, Erin. Hope I didn't ruin your Christmas plans. Unless you're mad I had my hand in his pants? You understand that was strictly to render first aid? He's really not my type."
Erin writhed in her chair, mortified knowing the conversation was being recorded. Holtzmann would obviously know this as well, so she was clearly screwing with Erin. "Did you call for something specific, Dr. Holtzmann?"
"So much for catching up." Holtzmann got to the point: "I thought you'd be interested in making a deal. I have the Cintamani stone; You have a DX-4 order on my family, and I'd like you to make it go away. Got any ideas how we can help each other out?"
Erin was pleased that the woman was being reasonable for a change. "I would be agreeable to a trade-with one stipulation."
Holtzmann could guess: "I still go to jail? Is that it? You know that technically I didn't blow up the barrier generator or betray the S.D.A. or whatever the hell you think Jillian Spengler did?"
"You know that technically it's Jillian Spengler's family, not yours?" Erin countered.
"Good point."
"Besides, it doesn't have to be jail, Dr. Holtzmann. I'd hate to see your talents go to waste. I need competent scientists at the S.D.A…provided you're under strict supervision by our agents."
There was silence at the other end of the line for a few seconds before Holtzmann answered. "I'll think about it."
Erin warned her: "My offer goes away if I don't have you and the Cintamani stone in two hours."
Another stretch of silence. Then:
"I'll be at the firehouse."
GBGBGBGBGBGBGB
Holtzmann ended the call and tossed the burner phone aside.
She was alone in the tiny room for a few minutes. Ray, Winston, and her father were downstairs taking care of their part of the plan. The medallion sat on the table beside the bed, where it would hopefully do no harm before Holtzmann got around to destroying it.
First things first…
She couldn't trust Director Gilbert. There wasn't a question about that. The question was what to do about the whole messed up situation. Holtzmann figured that she basically had only three options.
Option one was to stay here. Egon would not consider allowing Holtzmann to use the Cintamani to restore him to her timeline, he was so utterly convinced that his resurrection would result somehow in his daughter's death. She'd given her word. She could stay, make sure they were safe, get to have the time with her birth parents that Jillian Spengler had enjoyed and Jillian Holtzmann had missed.
But, staying here meant leaving behind everyone she loved back in her timeline.
Option two was to use the medallion to go home, home to her universe, her family…her extended family. Thanks to Janine's altering of Jillian's timeline (which still infuriated her daughter, no matter how good her mother's intentions might have been), Holtzmann was all the more determined to get back to her world. Her hesitation was out of concern for the parents and extended family she was leaving behind in this universe…leaving to the mercies of the S.D.A. Holtzmann could not leave until she knew they were safe.
Which brought her around to option three. She picked up the Cintamani stone, fingering the words etched into the metal.
She imagined the ancient warlords holding this medallion in their hands. She understood it now. She understood the allure of holding power over history itself, the intoxication of being able to bend history to one's will. She understood because she was sorely tempted to do so now.
Holtzmann spoke to the stone as if it might actually understand her: "Okay…show me."
The dizzy spell hit her like a wave, but what came next was like sensory overload.
Infinite timelines spread out before her, one atop another, playing themselves out in milliseconds. She saw the unlimited consequences if she remained in this dimension. In most, she spent her life constantly on the run from the Spectral Defense Agency. In many, she was brought into the Agency by force or coercion or blackmail. In many others, the S.D.A. ultimately eliminated her and usually the Ghostbusters with her. In a few, she and the Ghostbusters allied with the S.D.A. to prevent future Apocalyptic invasions. Alternately, they shut down the S.D.A.-sometimes the Ghostbusters defeated the Apocalypses on their own, sometimes they did not.
In almost none of them did her parents survive more than a few years. They died protecting her, rescuing her, fighting alongside her, hiding with her…
Holtzmann didn't want to see any more, but the barrage continued.
The timelines in which she surrendered the Cintamani stone were worse. In every scenario, someone-S.D.A. agent, rogue demigod, maniac terrorists, race supremacists, 'benevolent' dictators, mentally unstable janitors, and even Holtzmann herself-got his or her hands on the ghost rock and…well, bent history to their will, never with less than devastating results.
The removal of the S.D.A. from the timeline only reduced the odds of the Ghostbusters preventing the Apocalypses spawned by some truly powerful entities yet to hit the planet.
Holtzmann got the point.
The Cinatami stone turned its attention to the timeline that Holtzmann called her own. Again, the unlimited potential outcomes played out before her in the blink of an eye. Scenarios of the Ghostbusters working with Homeland Security, without Homeland Security, branching into different countries, battling various demigods with apocalyptic intentions. Sometimes the Ghostbusters succeeded in saving the world. Other times they did not. Without the continued presence of all four-Erin, Abby, Patty, and Jillian-the chances of survival decreased dramatically. In many, the world didn't even survive this Christmas.
The presence of the Cintamani stone, as in the other timeline, only guaranteed genocide, war, and the end of humanity by one hand or the other.
Finally, it showed her the timelines spawned by the alterations Janine had already made when she'd created-
Holtzmann dropped the medallion. She didn't want to see any more. That change was irreversible; there was no point in exploring the 'what ifs'. Thanks to that change, there was no decision to be made about returning to her own timeline and her family.
Egon had been right-it seemed that in any timeline, her death or his was a fixed, unalterable point. It happened sooner or it happened later, but there were precious few timelines in which Egon and Jillian both survived, where they and Janine were a family with long and happy lives.
She hung her head, squeezing her eyes closed as if that would shut out what the ghost rock had shown her in only a few seconds. It had told her what she needed to know-how to prevent the S.D.A. from following through on their threat against Jillian's parents and her extended family here.
The knock on the bedroom door startled her. "Come in."
Ray, Egon, and Winston entered the room. Egon sat beside her, taking one more stab at changing her mind. "This is a needless risk. Use the stone now. Take it and go home. We can handle Director Gilbert."
Holtzmann called upon her reserves of false bravado. "Eh, I've escaped Homeland Security twice now. I can do it again. I have a plan." She had to keep her word…and make sure that Erin was going to keep hers. "I don't want you guys there. If the S.D.A. gets their hands on you-well, that's game over." Evil Blonde Erin could use her family as leverage to make Jillian do and build whatever she wanted.
"I wouldn't be so sure," Winston said.
There was another knock on the door, and Janine poked her head in the room, wordlessly asking permission to come inside. Jillian gave her a hesitant smile.
Ray and Winston traded looks. "What do you say we give them a minute?" Ray suggested to Winston.
"Yep." Winston reached down and hugged Jillian. "Kid, it's never boring when you're around. You take care of yourself."
"Take care of these guys, Uncle Winston."
"Count on it."
Ray was next. He nearly lifted Jillian off the mattress when he swept her up in a bear hug. "Sorry we never finished the upgrades on the proton pack."
"I left the specs on your computer," she told him.
Ray grinned. "See you on the other side. We love you, kiddo."
She tried saying it back, but what came out was her usual strangled noises. They got the point anyway.
Janine slipped into the vacant spot beside Egon on the opposite bed. Holtzmann and Egon hadn't discussed what had happened with Janine and her alteration of Jillian's timeline. The others had been suspicious after Holtzmann had torn through the house searching for her mother-not to mention the subsequent arguing behind the closed bedroom door followed by the Cintamani magically being "found" by Jagannath and Slimer-but if they were suspicious, the other Ghostbusters hadn't asked questions.
Janine cleared her throat. "We can change the timeline back-"
"I said no," Holtzmann answered.
"I don't-I didn't get to say good-bye to Jillian. I don't want you to-" Janine fumbled for what to say. "I'm so grateful that you came-I'm so sorry."
Holtzmann moved to hug her. "Mom, it's okay."
"Just, please forgive me-"
"Mom," she repeated, "it's okay." It wasn't, Holtzmann knew, but it would be. It would be an adjustment, and once she got home the other Ghostbusters would be in for a shock when they found out, but it would be okay. The last thing she wanted was to leave this Janine a lifetime of thinking her daughter wouldn't forgive her.
Janine kissed her cheek before she pulled away. "Be safe, sweetie."
"I still wish you would tell me what happened," Egon commented.
"We'll talk later," Janine promised.
Egon resigned himself that he was not going to talk his daughter out of her plan. "Just be sure you get yourself back to your timeline before you destroy that thing." He nodded to the Cintamani. "Don't try to come back here, either."
"Aw-right…" She was flippant because if she didn't joke, she would end up crying.
He closed the distance, sweeping her into another hug, wishing it was safe for Jillian to stay a little bit longer. He wasn't one for long goodbyes or saccharin speeches, so he kept it simple.
"I love you, baby."
Shit, she was crying anyway. Holtzmann managed to answer in a rapid spill of words:"Love you, too, Dad."
GBGBGBGBGBGBGB
Rowan reached for the handle…and Erin chose that minute to make her appearance. She had followed the noises down to the sub-basement and the open door to Rowan's hideaway. Distracted by their argument, neither he nor Abby had noticed Erin's arrival. She'd managed to circle around, hiding behind the gargantuan machine. The ghosts had tried to point out the intruder to their master, but Rowan's focus was fully on Abby.
When Rowan pulled the lever, Erin emerged, swinging the only weapon she could find: One of Phil's precious graphite golf clubs that he'd left in the trunk of her car. She clubbed Abby's psychotic assistant with all her strength, and he hit the floor hard.
Abby was so grateful to see her that she could have cried. "Erin! Never thought I'd be happy to see you again!"
Erin nodded in greeting, wielding the club in case Rowan woke up. "Nice company you're keeping. You ever hear of background checks?"
"Well, there's no box on the application form for 'apocalypse-spawning whack-a-doodle'." Abby ran to the machine and reset the lever that Rowan had pulled. That did nothing. The machine was still building up power for a catastrophic explosion. The ground shook with the force of its power. "We gotta shut this thing down before it blows."
"Great." Erin blinked at the machine. "How?"
Abby couldn't make heads or tails of Rowan's behemoth either. She needed a real engineer's help. "How should I know?"
"He's your lab assistant!" Erin reasoned.
"And this was an after-work hobby! I didn't help him with this!"
Erin studied the layout of the machine while still trying to keep one eye on the unmoving Rowan. "We need to figure this out fast…"
Abby circled the machine. She had taken a few engineering courses. She ought to be able to figure this out. If she wanted to avoid Christmas in the Cataclysm, she had no choice but to figure this out. "Alright, alright…it wouldn't be hidden or super complicated. He wasn't expecting interference. Here, this looks like something-"
Erin turned her head just for a second to watch what Abby was doing…and Rowan's eyes snapped open.
Like a shot, he launched himself from the ground and tackled Erin, pitching her into Abby. Both women hit the floor hard.