Chapter Text
Felicia Atkinson wandered around her medium-sized two-story house, letting her eyes fall on the many memories she had collected throughout the building over the past thirty-five years. The fact that it was three o’clock in the morning disturbed her, but she knew there was no way she would be getting back to sleep anytime soon. Her nightmare had more than insured that.
The silver-haired woman made her way down the stairs and into the living room, moonlight spilling in from the large picture window that dominated the southern wall. That same light sparkled off the picture frames that abounded on the dark walnut mantle along the western side of the room. She gathered one into her weather-worn, yet vigorous hands from its place tucked behind the majority of those displayed. It was an old snapshot, a bit frayed around the edges and yellowed with age, but the image of a small boy wearing a mischievous, gap-toothed grin was quite well preserved. His hand was buried in a cookie jar, and he was looking over his shoulder at the photographer as though he may have been caught, but he thought he could still get out of trouble.
“Oh, my boy,” Felicia murmured as she stroked the tiny face, her brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’d say I wish you were here, but I don’t. Not if these dreams continue.” She took a deep breath and turned over the frame, gently prying open the back to uncover an old newspaper clipping of a picture of a young man and woman on their wedding day, smiling at the camera in complete bliss. A short, hand-scrawled note on the back stated plainly, “I’m not sure if I’m right, but I saw the last name and I had to send it to you. I hope this helps. Lorraine.”
The old woman stared at it for a few minutes before gathering the strength to put it away. Just as she had the backing in place once more, a creak of the floorboards reached her ears while a gust of wind blew past her legs, causing a shiver to fly up her spine. “Who’s there?” she demanded, spinning around to face the perceived threat.
There was no one there.
Felicia’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as she began to head toward where the breeze had come from, anger beginning to boil in her veins. “I can’t believe anyone would dare come into my house!” she griped under her breath. She continued to complain in a snarling whisper as her path took her to the front door, which was oddly standing open. Without a moment’s hesitation Felicia stepped onto her front porch, her eyes blind to the open expanse of green plains that stretched toward the horizon, the pre-morning dew glistening in the soft silver light of the moon.
There she stopped cold. Standing before her was terror made flesh, a figure she had only seen in her dreams. It was humanoid in shape, about six and a half feet tall, and completely cloaked in shadows. Evil emanated from every square inch of the creature, and deep violet eyes glowed menacingly from its barely discernible face. It stood firmly at the base of her porch steps, and its eyes burned into the woman’s soul. “Felicia,” it hissed, the sibilant sound coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once. “I come for you to finish your family’s bargain. I will take your soul and spare the rest.”
Finally recovering the ability to breathe, Felicia straightened to her full height and stared defiantly back. “You tricked my ancestor into that bargain. And as long as I die free of you, you will not get the power you long for. So take that and stuff it up your tailpipe!”
A growl filled the air, shaking the house behind the two antagonists to its foundations. “If you will not freely give me your soul I will have your blood! I will have the bargain fulfilled!”
“Your bargain wouldn’t stand up in the most corrupt court of law,” Felicia snapped back. “It may almost be my time, but I will stop this once and for all, you just watch me!”
“Will you now?” the now-smooth voice responded, the way its tone touched her senses making the older woman feel somewhat violated. “I think you will try, and he will pay my price.” A shadowy hand rose and gestured to the picture frame Felicia still unknowingly held.
Brown eyes dropped to the image of the little boy. “No,” she choked out. “You will not have my son.”
“Or perhaps someone else from his line. The blood would still be as sweet.”
Slight confusion flew through the fear-filled but still-determined gaze. “No!” she threw back. “I will stop you! You will not take my family! This stops here and now!”
The glowing violet orbs bore into her in silence for a seemingly endless moment. “You think you are the only one to try. Foolish mortal. I will have what I desire in the end. I always do.” The cowl-covered head tilted to the side in contemplation. “But I believe you may be right in one thing. This will stop. This will end. I have had enough of your line’s futile resistance.” The lavender light that had filled the woman’s vision even more so than the full moon’s beams dimmed slightly as the creature appeared to close its eyes in concentration. Before the mistress of the house could adjust her sight to the natural light the purple brilliance returned along with a rippling chuckle that caused a cold shiver to travel not only up her spine but through her soul. “The game ends soon, my dear. They’ll be coming soon. Now sleep tight, Felicia. I’ll be seeing you again.” The evil full-blown laughter again filled the air, and the shadow dispersed as through blown away by the wind, leaving only echoes of the soul-twisting sound behind.
Felicia stumbled back into the house, somehow managing to close the door before eventually collapsing onto her living room couch. She could not tear her eyes away from the smiling child, or her thoughts from the suspicions that arose anew due to the words of the demon that had made a pact with a long-ago ancestor. She considered her options as she brought herself under control once again. There was one call she could make, one call that could bring her the help and expertise she would need to make her family safe for the generations to come. Felicia really couldn’t see any other choice. If only she wasn’t so afraid of the consequences...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Winston Zeddemore trudged into the firehall about midafternoon dressed in sweaty old clothes and a pair of tennis shoes. Janine Melnitz looked up from her computer and did a double take at the sight of the black man as he made his way toward her, swiping an arm across his damp forehead as he walked. “What in the world did you do? Move the whole house?” she asked in her Brooklyn accent, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly.
“Feels like it,” Winston replied, immediately shifting his weight to sit on the corner of the desk when he reached it. “I really think Noah owes me for this one. He really does.”
“I seem to recall one Ghostbuster volunteering for the task of moving his favorite nephew into his new room as long as there weren’t any calls,” the redheaded woman reminded him, the twitching turning into a full-fledged grin. “So don’t give me this ‘he owes me one’ crap. He wasn’t even going to ask.”
The seated man chuckled. “You got me, little lady. Noah said as much when we stopped for lunch. He said he wouldn’t have asked because we never know when the next big call’s gonna come in. That of course started another question-answer period about what we’ve been doing lately. It was a lot of fun talking about it with someone outside it all, actually.”
Thin red eyebrows rose over wide sapphire blue eyes. “Wow, he sounds really interested in the business. How’s he doing at school, anyway?”
“Really well, actually. He said he’s been picking up books about parapsychology lately and started to read them.” Winston smiled proudly. “He said I’m the one who inspired that.”
Janine laughed. “I think he wants to follow in your footsteps, Winston. How neat!”
The man shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But it would feel pretty good if he did. Next best thing to having a kid of my own.”
“And it’s not like that’s not a possibility anymore. Especially if this relationship with Barbara continues the way it has been.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“We’ll have to see about that. But for now, there’s a nice, long, hot shower with my name on it waiting for me. Talk to you later, Janine.” Winston smiled and headed for the stairs.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Once he was showered, dried, and changed, Winston drifted by the lab where Ray Stantz and Egon Spengler were once again lost in one of their esoteric experiments. The older man paused in the doorway, smiling at the sight of the lower half of the first sticking out of the innards of a large new contraption while the tall, bespectacled blond examined every outer nook and cranny, jotting down notes onto a pad of paper attached to a clipboard. “Is that connection secure, Raymond?” the blond man asked, pausing briefly in his study of the device. He pushed his red-rimmed glasses back into place with a long finger.
“Just another second,” the other man responded, his voice muffled by the machine. Winston could still hear the edge of excitement in the words. “There!” Ray scrambled carefully out of the apparatus and ran a hand through his slightly disheveled short red hair. “Oh, hey, Winston! Back from helping Noah?” the engineer asked with a wide smile, noticing his friend out of the corner of his eye.
“Yep,” Winston replied, walking into the lab proper as Egon turned to face him as well. “I never thought you could fit quite so much stuff in a single room, in the attic or not. What Frank needs is elevators.”
“Considering what you’ve said about your brother’s attitude about money, I highly doubt that will be happening any time in the near future, Winston,” Egon said with a slight twitch of his lips as Ray laughed.
“I mean, I still remember the fit he threw when you suggested he make the attic into another bedroom to begin with,” Ray agreed. “And that was after your dad offered to do it for free.”
Winston nodded and decided to change the subject. “So what are you two working on in here?”
“This is a new device designed to be able to detect smaller dimensional openings and track down any entities that may have entered our world using such a portal. You see, the device would scan a certain radius and identify supernatural beings with a similar energy signature as that of the dimensional gate, suggesting it crossed over at that point. We can then track them down and assess their threat to the world at large.”
Ray began bouncing at Egon’s explanation. “We’re hoping this will give us more warning when something big’s about to cross over, like Gozer or Proteus. And we might even be able to stop something like that if we catch it fast enough. This is going to be great!”
Winston chuckled. “If it works the way you want it to, it probably will be great. How far along are you?”
“We’ve just started putting together the prototype, and even that’s not completed yet, as you can see,” the physicist replied, gesturing at the half-finished machine. “But things are moving along smoothly, thanks to our traditional slump at this time of year.”
At that, Ray sighed. “Yeah. I can’t wait for things to start up again. By next month I’m sure we’ll barely have time to even think about this project, much less work on it. It’s gonna be so much fun!” He laughed at the sight of his two friends rolling their eyes at his enthusiasm. “Oh, admit it, you two. You’re looking forward to more busts just as much as I am.”
“I don’t think anyone could look forward to anything as much as you do, Ray,” Winston said with a shake of his head and a fond smile. “But I will admit to looking forward to some work. It’s getting kind of dull around here.”
“I concur,” Egon said. “Although I am quite pleased with the progress we’ve been able to make on this project. I’ve been wanting to start it for some time now.”
“And the prototype’s not finished yet?” Winston asked in mock surprise. “I would have thought with that kind of wait the two of you would be working non-stop to get something ready before our next rush.”
Egon cleared his throat and put down his clipboard to clean his glasses. “Well, after the combing down we got from Peter the last time we rushed through a project we really wanted to get done, we figured we better take our time this time,” Ray explained with a rueful grin. “I don’t think we could afford to replace all the windows again so soon.”
“I can see that,” Winston said as he somehow managed to suppress a chuckle at the abashed looks the two scientists wore. “It’s only been, what? Six, seven months? And right before Christmas. Pete was not a happy camper.”
“While I could certainly understand the reasoning behind his agitated state, I still don’t believe it was quite necessary to lecture us for two hours in what remained of the lab. The wind was quite biting, if I recall correctly.” Egon drew himself up to his full height as he spoke and replaced his eyewear.
Now Winston laughed. “So that’s what took you guys so long and why the lab doors were locked for all that time. I thought I heard some raised voices, but with the wind blowing I couldn’t be sure. That also explains why he wouldn’t talk to either one of you for the next three days. I don’t know how your aunt Lois put up with us, Ray. I really don’t.”
“She refused to let us stay at a hotel, especially since it was only going to be for a week. I just couldn’t tell her no. I did apologize for us, though. She just said that she was glad Peter had gotten all the yelling out of his system. The silent treatment she could handle.”
“Speaking of Pete, where is he? I don’t think I saw him on my way up before.”
“He said something about watching a new series he recently ordered out of a catalogue. He even insisted it was business related.” One of Egon’s eyebrows rose as evidence of his doubt of his friend’s claim. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find him in the living room.”
“I think I’ll do that, find out what he considers business related, then start supper for everybody. I get the feeling you two missed lunch.”
“Oh, no! We had sandwiches. Peter made sure of that,” Ray declared.
“Yes. It was his weak excuse to check up on us and our project,” Egon added.
The black man chuckled again and shook his head. “I wouldn’t call it so weak. You guys do need to eat, no matter what kind of fascinating science is going on in here. I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready. Later.” He gave a short wave and headed for the stairs to the second floor.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Peter Venkman was exactly where Egon had said he’d be, in the living room watching television. The brown-haired man was sprawled on the couch, lazily munching on a bowl of popcorn as his green eyes stayed riveted on the screen. “Hey, Pete. What are you watching?” Winston asked as he circled around and sat on the old recliner.
“Oh, hey, Winston,” Peter replied, giving his friend a smile. “Just a new series I picked up. Called ‘Mythos’. Looks at ancient myths and legends and how they helped shape Western traditions. I thought it sounded cool. And it’s even job related, think of that. This Joseph Campbell did a decent job.” He sat up and offered the popcorn bowl to the other man.
“No thanks. Looks like it’s got some decent cinematography at least.”
“That I can agree with. Wanna watch with me?”
“I can do that for a while. Then I told our two mad scientists I was making supper.” He grinned, his dark brown eyes sparkling. “I hear you kept them fed to keep an eye on them.”
Peter snorted. “Someone has to. And they better not be playing mad scientist. We can’t afford new windows quite this soon after the last time, especially during the traditional mid-summer slump.”
“Don’t worry quite so much, Pete. You put the fear of Venkman in them. They told me they were taking their time with this gadget. Sounds like it’ll be useful, though.”
“Actually it does. I could do with some advance warning when someone like the Goz is going to come knocking at our door. And if we’d have time to throw the dead bolt, so much the better.” The psychologist yawned before he munched on another handful of buttery kernels. “So how’d moving your nephew go? I thought I heard you go by while I was in the kitchen getting my TV snacks ready.”
“Went off without a hitch, but I definitely worked up a sweat. Made me glad I’ve stayed in shape. Those friends of Noah’s could barely keep up.” Winston grinned.
Peter’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated his friend. “You didn’t push yourself too hard trying to keep up with kids more than half your age, did you? You could have hurt yourself.”
The black man looked at his friend strangely. “You know, one of Noah’s friends, a shorter girl with brown hair like yours, pulled me aside and asked me the same thing. Said they were all just grateful for the extra help and I didn’t need to prove anything. But I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.”
“Smart kid, then. And that better be all that’s wrong with you.”
“It is. Promise. But it was nice spending time with Noah. Sometimes it’s hard to believe he’s only fourteen. He’s a bright kid, and we’ve always gotten along great. Almost like a son of my own.” A gentle, proud smile softened the older man’s features.
The brown-haired man gave his companion a soft smile of his own after smothering another yawn. “It’s great that you have family like that to spend time with. I’ve always wished I had more of my own. But I’ve got you guys, so I guess I’m okay.” The smile transformed into a wide grin.
“Damn straight,” Winston responded. “And don’t you forget it. Because I will remind you, and it’ll be in a way that you’ll never forget again.”
Peter noticed the wicked glint in the brown eyes staring at him and took him at his word. “You got a deal, Zed. No forgetting the important stuff like family for Doctor Venkman, no siree.” The two of them laughed.
“So, Pete, what’s with the jaw stretching? You can’t tell me you didn’t get enough sleep. You were still in bed when I called to check in about eleven o’clock.” It was the black man’s turn to give his friend a concerned look.
The psychologist returned the gaze for a quiet moment before responding. “It’s not so much a matter of quantity as quality, Zed. I had the strangest dreams, more than usual. Well, I remember more than usual anyway.”
Dark brown eyes narrowed. “What kind of dreams are you talking about?”
“The images have been fading since I got up - which is par for the course - but I can still feel a kind of stalking presence, something hovering over my shoulder. And it wasn’t very nice.” Peter sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. “There was something else, too, but I can’t put my finger on what exactly. It was really subtle.”
Winston watched the other man carefully for a minute then began to smile. “Subtle, huh? Well, I don’t think you have to worry about that dream again. I think we all know that subtlety is not exactly a huge part of your makeup.” His eyes shone with a gentle understanding that belied the teasing words aimed at giving the man a way out of this particular topic of conversation. Peter merely stuck his tongue out at his older friend, his own eyes shining with thanks, and the two of them turned their attention to the television and the video playing on it.
They’d been exploring the myths of the Aztecs for about fifteen minutes or so when the telephone rang, to be quickly answered by Janine downstairs. Neither man thought much about it until the accented soprano called up, “Could one of you pick up the phone? I’ve got a client on the line that wants to talk to a Ghostbuster.”
Peter and Winston looked at each other and sighed. “I’m on it, Janine,” the black man called back, leaning over to the end table between the recliner and the couch and grabbing the receiver. “This is Winston Zeddemore. How can I help you?”
There was a brief silence before the voice on the other end spoke. “My name is Felicia Atkinson, Mister Zeddemore. I live in Cherry County, Nebraska. I have a bit of a problem I’d like you and the other Ghostbusters to help me get rid of.”
“What kind of problem would this be, Ms. Atkinson?” Winston asked calmly, noticing the slight tremor in her voice. He shifted the pad of paper they kept by the phone closer and took up the pencil that lay on top.
“This is so hard to explain,” the older lady said quietly, her voice drifting off a bit. She took a deep breath and continued. “My family’s been under a curse for centuries, Mister Zeddemore. I’ll go into complete details when you come out here if you agree to help, but the short of it is that a demon has cursed my line and wishes to take my soul, or if not that, the blood of my descendants. I want it stopped, Mister Zeddemore. It appeared to me in person instead of just my dreams for the first time last night, and I can’t let this go on much longer. My son...” Here her voice trailed off into a smothered sob, quickly recovered from. “Please, Mister Zeddemore. I need the Ghostbusters to help free my family from this menace, before it’s too late.”
The oldest Ghostbuster blinked at the ferocity of the woman’s determination, his eyes sightlessly gazing at the few notes he had taken. He doubted he would ever forget what she said. “Ms. Atkinson, I need to talk to the others about this. Could you leave me your phone number? I’ll call you back before dinner and let you know what we’ve decided.” Winston ignored the odd look he got from Peter at the comment.
There was the sound of a hard swallow from the other end of the line. “Of course, Mister Zeddemore,” she replied quietly and gave him the information. “Please, be quick. I have to believe him when he says it will be over soon.”
“Of course, ma’am. I just need the other Ghostbusters’ input before agreeing to such a big case, that’s all.”
“I understand. And I’m sure there’s some preparation you need to do as well. I’ll speak with you again soon.”
“Good-bye, ma’am.” He hung up the phone and looked at the confused psychologist. “I’ll explain upstairs, Pete. Ray and Egon need to be in on this, too.” The other man’s green eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he silently rose after stopping the tape and turning the television off then led the way to the third floor. Winston sighed and followed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“I’m not sure exactly how dangerous this is,” Winston said in summation after he repeated the short conversation he had just had, “but the tone of her voice said it was serious. I told her I’d call her back before dinner with our decision.”
“It would be difficult to determine which pieces of equipment to bring along with such a sketchy description of the problem,” Egon responded with a frown, his arms crossed on his chest. “Why didn’t you get any more information?”
“She was pretty upset, but she said she’d give us the full story if we agreed to help. I got the feeling that no matter how scared she was she was sticking to that. I think we have enough to make a decision.”
“I think so, too,” Ray said with a small frown of his own. “But I wish I knew the story.”
“And I, as well,” Egon agreed. “I must admit to some skepticism as to the validity of Ms. Atkinson’s interpretation of her vision. It’s quite possible that the hypothetical appearance of the demon was another facet of the dream she mentioned.”
“You don’t think she’s lying?” Ray asked, shocked.
The physicist blinked. “No, of course not, Raymond. I merely question her ability to analyze her vision and dream and draw a distinct division between the two.”
Winston shifted slightly on the tall stool he sat on. “Are you saying that she might have had a bad dream and is making too much of it?”
“Precisely,” the blond said with a nod.
“Well, she did say her family had been under a curse for centuries,” Ray offered tentatively.
“Couldn’t that just make it that much easier to overreact to a bad dream?” Winston retorted, his brows creased in thought. “Especially if it was really vivid and lifelike.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he considered his own argument.
Egon nodded. “An excellent point, Winston. I had considered that myself. There is also the commute involved to consider. We are in the middle of a dry spell. Can we truly afford to travel to the Midwest for a possible exaggeration of a superstitious woman’s imagination?”
“Now hold on,” the oldest one of the four interrupted, holding up a hand. “I only brought that up so we look at all the possibilities. I’m not saying I’m against this, exactly. I just want to be sure.”
Ray bit his lower lip as he thought about what he had heard. “Gosh, guys, I don’t know. You said she sounded scared, right, Winston?” The veteran nodded. “What can it really hurt to go out there and check it out? We’d make her feel better at least, even if she is imagining things. And it’s not like we’re all that busy here. Most calls that come up during these slumps are just little Class Twos that can wait until we get back.” His light brown gaze shot back and forth between the two active participants in the discussion before pausing and moving on the last country heard from. “Peter?” he asked the unusually quiet psychologist who had been watching the proceedings from his normal seat on the beat-up lab couch. “What are you thinking?”
The emerald green eyes locked with those light browns, then flickered to sky blues and dark browns. “I think we’re getting petty,” he said quietly as he sat up and crossed his arms over his chest. “One way or the other we can get paid. One way or the other we can get answers. One way or the other we can get out of the city for a while.” The corners of his lips twitched upward briefly. “And when did you pick up a Ph.D. in psychology, Spengs? That’s a pretty hasty diagnosis for such a sketchy case study.”
“Well, it’s not as though our self-proclaimed expert was offering anything to the discussion.” Blond eyebrows headed for the hairline. “Is something wrong, Peter? It’s not like you to be so reticent.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Peter said quickly, shifting on the sofa. “But let’s make a decision here. I think we all agree that we can?” The others nodded. “What about you, Ray?”
The redhead gave his friend a concerned look before answering. “I say we go. It could really be something. And we can make her feel better.”
The tall blond sighed. “I would feel infinitely more comfortable with this if we were in possession of all of the information,” Egon said resignedly. “But I can support our acceptance of this case.”
“I’m in,” Winston said with a shrug. “I just wanted to be sure we covered everything.”
The three of them turned to stare at the brown-haired man that hadn’t really offered his opinion to that point. “I’m so glad you agreed. I was afraid I’d have to bust some heads. Turn down a job during the summer slump? I don’t think so.” Peter stood and headed for the lab doors without meeting anyone’s gaze. “Go ahead and give our new client the good news, Winston. I’m sure she’ll feel better to know we’re on the job.” And he was gone.
The remaining three men looked at each other. “Do either of you have any clue what’s eating him?” Winston asked.
Ray shook his head as Egon answered, “No, unfortunately I don’t. But I have every intention of finding out.” The blond physicist turned and headed out after the disturbed psychologist.
Egon caught up with Peter as he reached the kitchen on the second floor. “Are you going to make me ask again, Peter?”
The brown-haired man stiffened at the sound of the older man’s voice. “Ask what, Egon? Can’t a man grab a snack before dinner? I promise not to ruin my appetite.” He stepped over to the fridge and opened it.
“Peter, it’s obvious something’s bothering you, most likely something concerning Ms. Atkinson’s call. Will you tell me what it is?”
The other man tensed even more and stared sightlessly into the ice box for a long moment, then sighed and shut the refrigerator door. “I’d tell you if I knew, Spengs. There’s just something inside that’s screaming at me to take this case, that I... that we need to go out there and take care of this.” He turned around and leaned back against the large appliance. “I can’t explain it, but I have to go.”
“Then we go.” Egon smiled. “And you were right. It will be pleasant to get out of the city for a while. The temperature’s been a little excessive.”
Peter narrowed his eyes as he considered his best friend. “Speaking of problems, what was with that little display upstairs? Since when do you jump to the conclusion that someone’s overreacting?”
At that it was Egon’s turn to sigh as his shoulders slumped somewhat. “I was frustrated, I suppose. With your admonishment Ray and I have been taking our time to complete our prototype, and the slower pace has been stifling. I must admit to a high level of excitement in regards to this project, and I have been hoping to complete the device and at least one set of tests before business picks up again.” Pale blue eyes bore into a pair of emerald greens. “That and someone was being uncharacteristically quiet. When you didn’t refute my theory, I wondered if I couldn’t be correct.”
“Are you telling me that you said that about her dream because you were peeved about taking so long with your new gizmo? And then you actually believed it just because I didn’t say anything?”
“I may have been teasing you before, but you are our expert in matters of the mind.” Blue eyes sparkled as the physicist’s lips twitched upward. “It’s not as though you’ve ever been able to let such a comment go unanswered before. What was I supposed to think?”
“That’s just it, Egon, you were supposed to think. Come on, what do you think we keep you around for? Certainly not your fashion sense, that’s for sure.” Peter smirked as he gestured toward Egon’s typical outfit of a pink shirt, light brown pants, and suspenders.
Egon failed to respond, although he did narrow his eyes briefly at the irreverent psychologist. “Why don’t we see if Winston has found out any more particulars from Ms. Atkinson? Then we can attempt to determine what pieces of equipment we may need to bring along.” He herded the brown-haired man ahead of him as he made his way back up to the third floor.
When they got there, Winston was just hanging up the lab extension, Ray standing nearby eagerly. “Hey, guys,” the black man said as he noticed their arrival.
Peter nodded his acknowledgment and moved over to flop back down on the couch. “That Ms. Atkinson?” he asked lightly.
“You got it. She was really relieved when I told her we’d take the case. She said she’d confirm the plane ticket reservations she made hoping we’d say yes and gave me the information. I told her we’d make the arrangements for our equipment.” The older man gave the brown-haired psychologist a speculative look. “You feelin’ better, Pete?” Ray looked over at him as well.
He gave his two worried friends a smile. “Yeah, I’m better. I’m just getting a feeling that it’s really important to go out there. But we are, so that’s not an issue.” He shrugged.
“Did you get any further information, Winston?” Egon asked.
The veteran shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Egon. She just repeated that she’d tell us everything when we got there. Are we going to be okay picking out equipment?”
Ray frowned as he thought about that. “Well, let’s think about this for a second. Maybe we do have enough information after all.”
“What do you mean, Ray?” the blond man queried curiously.
“She says it’s a curse, right? From a demon?” The others nodded. “There’s a start. And she said that it was demanding either her soul or the blood of her descendants. That suggests a blood ritual of some sort was used when this all started, although I don’t know which one, of course. I’ll have to bring a decent selection of my books...” His voice trailed off as he started to ponder just which tomes he’d want.
Egon smiled as he moved the rest of the way across the room to where a lot of their detection equipment was kept. “You’re right, Raymond. That is an excellent place to start. No matter how much Ms. Atkinson had told us we still wouldn’t have exact readings and would be working on hypotheses anyway. I’ll pick out what we should most likely need.”
“And what about us?” Peter asked a bit indignantly. “Winston and I aren’t just stage dressing, you know - although we would be damn good-looking stage dressing.” He gave the other man a wink, causing Winston to laugh.
“How about we take care of those arrangements for the equipment?” the black man offered. “And then we can do dinner.”
Peter grinned. “Now that sounds like a plan. So what kind of time table are we looking at before we get out there?” A bit of tension touched his expression.
Winston narrowed his eyes a bit at the change, but chose not to mention anything. “Ms. Atkinson couldn’t get us anything until the day after tomorrow, kinda early. At least it’s a cushion for the airline.” He shrugged.
“Then that’s what we got. Let’s go take care of this.” Peter gestured for Winston to lead the way out, only letting the discomfort he was feeling show once no one was looking as he followed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Yes, of course it’s absolutely necessary,” Peter snapped into the phone in his office early the next afternoon. “I thought we cleared everything last night.” He listened to the response. “Sir, I understand you’re concerned about your plane, but I assure you our equipment is perfectly safe...” He paused again as he was cut off. “Hold it! Just what is your title again?” His eyes closed as his scowl got deeper. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered after getting his answer. “Let me talk to your supervisor,” the man demanded.
On the other side of the filing cabinets that separated the two work areas, Janine paused in her work on the monthly invoices to listen to the one-sided debate going on behind her. Peter had come down in an irritable mood a couple hours ago - she was willing to guess he hadn’t slept well - to finish filling out the paperwork the airline needed to transport the team’s equipment, in particular the portable nuclear accelerators.
Ray had told her about the bust they had taken for the lady in Nebraska, and she was glad they had agreed to it. Not only would they get to help this woman and her family, but they’d get a decent change of scenery, something she was sure they needed - especially Peter considering his mood the last couple of days.
Janine frowned as she considered that. She was reluctant to admit even to herself that she was worried about her favorite pest, but this snippiness wasn’t really like him, not after only a couple days of iffy sleep. He could be moody, sure, but not quite this ready to take someone’s head off. She was just lucky she hadn’t said anything to him when he came down to set him off.
The redhead sighed. Doctor Peter Venkman could be quite the enigma at times. She only wished now wasn’t one of those times. She had a feeling they were going to need him at top form for this assignment in the Midwest.
“Thank you, sir,” Peter’s voice said with sickly sweetness dripping from his tone. “I’m glad we could work this out, too. I’ll drop off the signed paperwork later this afternoon. Yes, until then. Bye.” There was a sharp click as the receiver was replaced rather carefully, followed by a dull thump. “Why do I have to continually deal with incompetents?” the psychologist’s muffled voice complained irritably. Janine guessed he had his arms folded on his desk with his head buried in them.
The secretary wisely chose not to reply and went back to her typing. Not long after, the phone rang, and she hurried to pick it up before Peter decided to. “Hello, Ghostbusters. We zap and trap nasty things off the map.” She paused for the response, ignoring the complaining groan her greeting inspired from behind her. “Oh, sure! Just a second.” She clapped her hand over the mouthpiece and called back over her shoulder, “Doctor Venkman, it’s your father.”
“Wonderful. This should make my day go so much better.” He picked up his extension and waited for the sound of Janine hanging up hers before speaking. “Hey, Pop, what do you need? Please tell me you’re not in trouble again.”
“Son, is that any way to greet your dear old dad?”
The brown-haired man groaned. “Oh, god, Dad, what is it now? What rich, famous, and influential person have you scammed and ticked off now? And how much is it going to cost me?”
Charlie Venkman chuckled. “I’m not calling to ask for money, son. I haven’t gotten caught for months.”
“Then what is it?” Curiosity slowly began to infuse the suspicious man’s tone.
“You did a study on dreams when you were in college, didn’t you?” the older man asked seriously, a touch of fatigue making his voice even more gravelly than usual.
“Dreams? Yeah, I was part of a study while I was going for my master’s degree in psychology. Helped me come up with my thesis for the parapsychology one, actually. What about it?”
“There’s supposed to be a significance to certain dreams, isn’t there?”
Emerald green eyes narrowed. “Yeah,” he replied cautiously. “Why?”
Charlie took a deep breath before plunging ahead. “I’ve been having some doozies the last couple of nights, and I thought you might be able to help me with them.”
“Is this on the level?”
“Peter! What could I possibly gain from something like this?”
“I’m not in any condition to guess right now, but I’m sure there’s something.” Peter paused and thought for a moment. “But just assuming for a minute that I believe you, what kind of dreams? Whatever they are they’re interrupting your sleep. You sound exhausted.”
His father shook his head. “I always had a harder time getting things by you. Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping well.” It was his turn to pause. “I have a feeling I’m not the only one. Are you okay, son?”
“I’ll be okay. I’m going to try taking a nap in a little while. So what about these dreams?”
“Actually, I’m not entirely clear on the details...”
“Aw, Dad...”
“No, wait a minute, son. Hear me out.” Charlie took a deep breath and continued. “I’m not sure of the details, but I know something’s watching me, following me. And it’s not very nice. Everything’s dark. I can’t see anything.”
Peter sighed. “Then how do you know something’s there?”
His father shrugged, although he knew the man on the other end of the line couldn’t see it. “I could feel it, Peter. There was a presence there, something I can’t explain. I wish I could tell you more. The main thing about it, though, is that it bothered me, bothered me enough to keep waking me up every time I had the dream. What do you make of it?”
The younger Venkman was silent as he considered his father’s words. It all sounded so familiar. He had shivers run up and down his spine as his own dreams flashed through his mind. And the sense of urgency that had come over him ever since Felicia Atkinson’s call the day before boiled even higher, making it difficult to sit still. He wished he understood what was going on.
“Peter? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here, Pop,” Peter said, shaking himself out of his reverie. “I’m not completely sure what to make of that. If you’re looking for a traditional interpretation, I’d have to look through some of my books. I haven’t really studied the subject since college.”
“But you could do it, right?”
Something about the eagerness in the other man’s voice set off alarm bells in Peter’s head. “Why, Pop? What are you thinking?”
“Well...”
“Just spill it.”
“I just thought that this kind of dream could be... significant. You know, valuable to your work. What if I’m being influenced by some ghost or something? Or it’s some kind of premonition you boys could use a warning about? Maybe I’m even being possessed. Come on, Peter. I could come out there and we could video tape the whole thing. Think of the money selling the rights to all this could bring in!”
“I can’t believe you, Dad! You’re actually trying to turn a few lousy nightmares into another one of your scams! And you’re trying to drag me along with you! Well, I’m not going to let you. Period.” Peter paused for a moment to try to get himself under some semblance of control. “And, Dad, let me tell you one thing. If you were being possessed, you’d know. Believe me, you’d know. Is that all you wanted?”
Charlie sighed, seeing yet another great idea flitter away in the wind. “Yeah, that’s it. I wanted to touch base with you about the dreams. I’m just sorry you don’t want to get in on this. There’s a lot of potential, Peter.”
“Oh, Dad, you’d think you’d know better by now. So, where are you anyway?”
“Denver. I thought I’d take a cruise through the Midwest and see what I could shake up. In fact...” His voice faded out temporarily as dark images flashed through his mind. “I think I’m going to head out just after lunch. There’s nothing holding me here. No reason to wait.”
Peter was about to accuse his father of being on the run yet again when the tone the man used sank in. He just knew that a failed scam was not the source of this unusual urgency. “Just be careful, Pop, okay? I don’t want to have to bail you out of trouble again. The price is getting kind of steep.”
“I’ll do my best, Peter, I promise. But for now you get that nap and watch yourself. I know how dangerous your job is. I don’t want to read about an accident that happened because you weren’t at the top of your game. My boy’s better than that.”
The pride in the elder Venkman’s voice made his son smile. “All right, Pop. I’m going to get going then. Hopefully I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Talk to you soon, Peter. Bye.”
“Bye.” Peter hung up the phone gently and rubbed his hands over his face.
Janine had been doing her best not to eavesdrop on the conversation going on in the office behind hers, but considering it involved Peter’s father - and they all knew the depths Charlie Venkman could sink to - she couldn’t help herself. Fortunately, she had become a master at typing and listening intently over the years she had worked at Ghostbuster Central, and so managed not to look suspicious when Peter trudged out of his office, pausing by her desk to pick up the pile of mail the secretary had left there for him. “So how are things with your dad?” she asked carefully, remembering his previous temper.
“You heard every word I said, Melnitz,” Peter said calmly as he leafed through the envelopes. “Don’t think I don’t know that. You’ve been listening in for years.”
Janine blinked. Okay, maybe she wasn’t as subtle as she thought she was. Of course, she was dealing with Peter Venkman. She’d never tell him to his face, but the man could see through anything if he put his mind to it. “Well then, what’s up with your dad? I know what I heard, but that doesn’t explain very much.”
“He’s having nightmares.” The man’s tone was short and curt.
“I got that, and I also got that he was trying to pull a scam with them. But that’s not what’s bugging you.” She narrowed her sapphire blue eyes. “At least not the scam. Is it the nightmares?”
Peter looked up sharply from the letters he held and met that intense gaze. He tensed all over, thinking not for the first time that sometimes their secretary was extremely observant - and it was far too easy to forget that. That’s when he noticed the deep concern buried in the blue depths. That made him go limp, seating himself in his usual position on the corner of the desk. This was his little sister, after all. “When Pop described his nightmares, it hit too close to home. I’ve gotten squat for sleep the last couple of nights, and I’m feeling this driving need to... go.” He let loose a deep breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “I need to get out to Nebraska, and the wait is driving me nuts. This lack of sleep isn’t doing me an ounce of good.”
Janine took a quick look around and confirmed the garage was empty. She reached out and put a comforting hand on Peter’s knee. “You’ll be out there early tomorrow, and then you’ll find out what the big deal is. As for now, why don’t you go upstairs and take that nap you mentioned?” She smiled then, and let her tone turn light. “Then maybe you won’t feel the need to have airline bureaucrats’ heads for lunch.”
A brief laugh escaped the psychologist’s lips, and the effect of the resulting smile was nothing short of amazing. “Fine, fine, Melnitz, I’m going. I know when I’m not wanted.” He made his way to the steps, turning back briefly when he reached the first landing. “Thanks, Janine.” The pair shared a quick smile, then Peter jogged up the rest of the stairs, disappearing quickly from sight.
Janine returned to her work, her smile lingering. That worked out well, she thought warmly. Now if only the rest of this trip would go as smoothly.