Chapter Text
Jillian Holtzmann was far from the spectrum of normal. And by association, Erin Gilbert had no choice but to partake in whatever crazy mischievous plots her fellow colleague proposed.
“I’ve been working on a new project,” Holtzmann interrupted her one day, holding a strange device in her hands. It appeared to be a large metal helmet, like the kind found in cartoons – big and shiny with small light bulbs and antennas sticking out from the top.
Erin gave it half a glance before returning to her books. “That’s great, Holtz. But I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.”
"Of course," Holtzmann said, "I can wait," then proceeded to stand there in giddy silence (not that Erin expected anything less from Holtzmann anyway).
“Okay, fine.” Erin sighed, setting down her pencil as she looked up. “What is it you wanted to show me?”
Holtzmann grinned at her. “Ever wonder what it’d be like for a ghost to read your mind?”
Erin blinked twice at the question. “No,” she answered slowly, “I can’t say that I have.”
“Really?” Holtzmann looked a bit surprised, as if this was the sort of thing everybody in the world should be pondering about. “Well, I’ve been running a hypothesis, whether or not non-corporal entities can read minds, especially after that whole Rowan incident. Just an interesting side project, nothing too difficult.”
“Sure.”
“I was thinking we should prepare ourselves for situations like that, you know,” Holtzmann went on, "given our professional fields.”
“Hold on. You were thinking about possible safety measures?” Erin couldn’t help but sound surprised.
Holtzmann winked at her in return. “Well, I wouldn’t want your pretty little head to be thrown out a window anytime soon.”
“…Yes, let’s try and prevent that,” Erin said quietly, suddenly reminded of the horror stories she had heard of from Patty. It made it easier not to blush under Holtz’s comment.
“So, basically, if we were able to understand a ghost’s non-corporal ability, and we fiddled with some subatomic particles and brainwave functions, we can build a contraption that prevents ghosts from possessing our minds. Think of it as a ghost force field for our brains.”
“Okay…? That sounds very nice in theory.” Erin shrugged. “But I don’t know how we’d even begin to try and test that out in real life.”
Holtzmann, as if she were waiting for this opportune moment, stuck out the large helmet she’d been carrying in her arms.
“This is just a prototype,” she said, her eyes twinkling under the light. “Would you care to try it on?”
“But there are no ghosts here,” Erin pointed out.
“I know.” Holtzmann nodded but refused to say much more.
Realizing she had no other choice, Erin took the helmet into her hands. After all, she trusted Holtzmann enough to do her job correctly. She wouldn’t allow any of her friends to test out unsafe, dangerous, radioactive equipment…
Erin gave the contraption one more sorrowful look, then glared at Holtzmann in unease. “If this makes my hair fall out, I swear to god…”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. You’d look great bald.”
“Holtzmann!”
“Kidding!” Holtzmann laughed.
Erin scoffed, not knowing how else to react to such a joke. She bit her lips in trepidation, and quite slowly, placed the metal hat on top of her head. It was much lighter than it appeared, but sank a few inches below her eyes, blocking much of her vision.
“Oops, too big.” She heard Holtzmann mutter before the helmet was taken off of her and she could see again. “Cool. Thanks, Erin.”
“Wait… What?” Erin sat up straight in her chair. “That’s it? That’s all you needed me for?”
“Yup!” Holtzmann waved at her as she exited the room. “Good night, Er!”
It took a while before Erin could think to do anything productive.
Finally, the physicist sighed, opening up her notes again, wondering what on earth that was about. If she knew any better, Holtzmann was just playing another prank on her. Sometimes, it seemed like that was all Holtzmann ever did around Erin – run some joke, manage to get a rise out of her, and then dismiss it again and again with some flirtatious remark. Her intentions were harmless, sure. But annoying all the same.
An hour or so passed by in relative silence. Around eight o’clock, Patty and Abby bid their farewells, deciding to go home for the night. Judging by the loud clanking sounds echoing from the second floor, Erin suspected that Holtzmann was still hard at work, doing whatever it was she did nowadays.
Erin was enjoying her solitude when she heard a series of disturbing noises from up above. It started off easy, a few minor medium-sized poofs. A small explosion. Nothing special, considering where she worked, but it was followed by a distinctive yelp of pain. Then, a loud thud. And then, silence.
“Holtzmann, was that you?” Erin called out.
There was not a sound, but the clock ticking into the night.
“Holtzmann!” Erin shouted this time, immediately jumping out of her chair. “Holtz? Are you there?” she demanded, her heart hammering as she ran up the stairway.
A limp body was lying across the floor. A tuft of blond hair poked out from underneath the hunk of metal. There was a wisp of smoke rising from the helmet, the bulbs blinking on top of Holtzmann’s head.
“Oh my god!” Erin knelt down on the ground, shaking the blonde senseless. “Holtz! Holtz, can you hear me? Holtzmann! Holtzmann, come on.”
She didn’t think twice, grabbing the piece of contraption with her bare hands.
A sharp tingle ran up her arms, dancing across her spine. An inexplicable string of events occurred: a flash of pain, a burning sensation, and images of people she’d never seen; flashes of Abby and Patty in their Ghostbusters uniform, and herself, smiling, eating a donut, and an overwhelming smell of oil, salt, and pine cones filled her nose.
It was a millisecond worth of time. An anomaly, a sharp break in consciousness.
Then, she was back.
In an instant, she dropped the helmet, which she had pried off of the blonde’s head. There was a bit of movement, followed by a low moan.
“Oh, thank god.” Erin let out a breath of relief.
“What happened?” Holtzmann slurred, attempting to sit up as she opened her bleary eyes.
“For goodness sake, Holtz. I don’t know! There was an explosion, and- and so I came up here, and you were already unconscious.” Erin shuddered at the thought. “What were you doing anyway?”
Holtzmann was processing this rather slowly. “Um… I believe I was in the middle of an experiment.”
Erin frowned, looking down at the metal hat, which now had scorch marks on each side. “Don’t tell me you were testing this thing out on yourself.”
“Perhaps?” Holtzmann was starting to grin again. “That sounds like something I’d do.”
“Holtz, please.” Erin groaned. “You don’t even have health insurance.”
“Ah, well. I promise I’ll be more careful next time,” said Holtzmann, though her smile, quite abruptly, slipped away from her face. “Geez, Erin. Are you okay?”
“What?” Erin frowned. “Of course I am. Why?”
“Your hands,” Holtzmann pointed out grimly.
“Oh.” She looked down at them, noticing how red they were for the first time. They were sore, and a little swollen. “It’s nothing, just got a little electrocuted, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry,” Holtzmann mumbled, sounding remorseful, unlike her usual self.
“It’s okay. Accidents happen,” Erin assured her. “I’ve got some ointment downstairs. Let me go get it, for the both of us.”
Erin half-expected Holtzmann to dismiss her, something akin to “medicine is for dudes.” But she didn’t. The blonde stayed as quiet as she had been before, shaking her head as she helped Erin to her feet.
“No, I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“Oh, come on.” Erin rolled her eyes. “It’s fine! Holtz, you get electrocuted all the time.”
“This is different,” Holtzmann huffed.
“How is this any different?” Erin argued.
“Because it’s you.”
“What?" Erin challenged, standing tall. "Are you implying that I’m physically weak?”
“It's because you’re important,” Holtzmann clarified in a matter-of-fact way. Then she went to get her keys, leaving Erin in a flurry of confusion.