Work Text:
1. Downtime
In between missions, the Ghostbusters made use of their downtime in various ways. Winston liked to work out on the training equipment. Peter could usually be found leafing through the newspaper, occasionally sniping at Janine. Ray and Egon, the mad scientists of the team, made additions and perfections to the equipment and researched the mandala, to get a better idea of what it represented.
Ray rubbed his forehead in frustration. Tobin's was only turning up so much. They needed better, more in-depth materials. With a sigh, he closed his book and went to make a cup of coffee.
As he passed the couch, he noticed that Rookie – a young woman recently hired by the Busters to help test the new equipment – was frowning at a piece of paper, tapping the end of her pen against it. The paper had an address written at the top, and another address written on the left hand side, midway down, followed by a salutation and a few scribbled lines.
“What's that you got there, young blood?” Ray tilted his head and the Rookie looked up at him. “Letter home, huh?” He asked, perching slightly against the back of the couch. Rookie nodded. “Yeah, I've written a lot of those,” Ray continued, his voice taking on a far-away, thoughtful tone. “Sometimes hard to know what to write. Things you've seen, people probably wouldn't believe.” He shook his head and sighed. “No man is a hero in his own town.”
Rookie looked slightly bummed at that and sighed. Ray looked down at her, surveying her expression as she frowned at the paper in front of her, silence falling between them.
“Hey, Cadet,” Ray addressed her. She looked up and tilted her head, pointing to her nose, the look in her eyes spelling out her respectful, slightly puzzled response.
With a smile, Ray reached out and ruffled her hair playfully. “You're doing some stellar work. I'm real proud of ya.” As the Rookie smiled, he added, “keep it up.” All the Rookie could respond to that with was a grin and a determined nod.
2. Playing the Hero
Ray groaned softly as he sank to his knees, the ghost that had taken over his body fleeing from the positively charged ectoplasm. Just moments after warning the Rookie to be careful about wayward possessors, the man himself had opted to play the hero, telling the Rookie and Winston that anybody who wanted to possess his team-mates would have to go through him.
Rookie admired the sentiment, certainly, but she couldn't help the vague desire to plant her face firmly in her palm when it happened. Instead, just as Winston began to suggest using the new ectoplasm tanks, she flipped a switch on her neutrona wand and pressed the trigger, releasing a surge of mood slime. Winston blinked and halted in mid-sentence as she coated Ray in it thoroughly, and a hag came floating out of its hiding place.
Seconds later, the hag was safely incarcerated in a trap. Ray tried to get to his feet, only to slip on the slime. With a worried expression, Rookie went to his side, kneeling on the floor and placing a hand on his shoulder. Ray gave her a small smile and reached up, his slime coated hand covering her gloved hand, gently squeezing.
“I'm okay, kid. I'm okay. But thanks.”
Rookie nodded as he released her hand, allowing her to slip her arm around his waist, placing her free hand under his elbow, to help him to his feet.
3. Post Historical Trauma
The uniforms that had been once lovingly restored to pristine condition, fluttered to the floor, stained with ectoplasm and scored with gunpowder marks and bullet holes. Rookie, too, collapsed to her knees, holding herself up with her hands flat on the floor, breathing heavily. It wasn't that the fight had been a particular challenge – far from it, all she and Winston had to do was capture the flagbearer ghosts of the Civil War department of the museum, thus restoring peace because the soldier ghosts would be lost without their flag, without their raison d'etre. True to Ray's advice, the other ghosts simply disappeared into thin air.
Winston kneeled next to her, asking in a firm and slightly concerned tone, if she was alright. Rookie shook her head vehemently, and then studied his face, his eyes. There was something slightly guarded to his expression, almost grim.
“Been in that mind before,” Winston told her. “First time you ever see war, you realize it's not all it's made up to be.” Rookie nodded. Slowly getting to her feet, she trudged over to a poster, showing the flag of the United States, as it would have looked during the Civil War.
“Yeah, I know,” Winston said quietly. “Going after the flagbearers wasn't easy for me, either.” Staring up at the flag, Rookie couldn't help but recall that moment, just after they had captured the flagbearer for one side, when a soldier ghost from the other side came to attention.... and saluted her. She shivered.
“Kid...” Winston's voice carried a slight warning tone, becoming slightly stern. “They're dead,” he reminded her firmly. “Just for some folks, the war never ends. Even after they cross over.” As Rookie looked at him, he added, “and it's our job to get the spooks that can't accept their fate.”
With a nod, Rookie pulled out her PKE meter, scanning around the area, earning a smile from Winston.
“That's the spirit, probie. Let's hop to it.”
4. Arachnophobics Anonymous
Egon watched his PKE meter as Rookie fired a stream of ectoplasm at what seemed like an innocuous looking dead-end in the Sedgewick Hotel's corridor on the twelfth floor. Slowly, the stream revealed a hidden doorway with a grotesque looking skull decorating the arch. Eventually, the splattering sound of slime hitting the walls stopped, and total silence reigned in the corridor. Rookie holstered her wand, and Egon raised his PKE meter a little, the small arms lifting to almost parallel, indicating a significant amount of spectral energy being read.
That was when they heard it. The harsh clicking of many tiny feet on the wooden floor of the room that the arch lead to. Egon and Rookie exchanged glances and looked down at the cycloptic spiders swarming their ankles, pincers nipping at their booted feet. Egon backed away slightly, only to discover a layer of thick webbing had somehow appeared behind them.
He muttered in disgust, and brushed off the tangled mass of fine fibers. Rookie shivered at the thought. There was no way they could march right past the spiders into the next room, but... She glanced to the side, slipping the nozzle of her neutrona wand into the lock of the nearest room, and and turned on the proton stream. The metal lock gave way, and the door swung open, the room empty. At the very least, they could give themselves some more space to maneuver. The spiders streamed into the room behind her. Egon followed, meticulously picking off the creepy crawlies with boson darts, a new feature added to the proton stream settings. Before long, the pair had cleared the room of spiders – at the cost of the furniture, which was wrecked. Still, the City's insurance policy would cover it, leaving Egon and Rookie to worry instead about finding the Spider Queen and defeating her.
“Well, that was terrifying,” Egon said flatly as he brushed the remaining web fibers off his uniform. Rookie smiled, glad that she wasn't the only one freaked out by the spiders.
Peering out of the room and down the corridor, which had been emptied of spiders, they stepped out, PKE meters still held aloft, and wandered through the archway in the wall revealed by the ectoplasm.
The archway lead into a long forgotten, dark and dusty room. Egon furrowed his brows, and strode over to a glowing symbol on the wall... the mandala. Thus far, two of the nodes had been deactivated. Egon's PKE meter clicked insistently.
“Cadet,” he glanced over at the Rookie, who was taking readings of the residual valences in the room. She turned to him, then blinked upon seeing the mandala. “Come and see what you make of this.”
At that moment, a spirit – the Spider Queen – hovered by Egon and Rookie, easily passing through the emblem that glowed on the wall, denying Rookie a chance to study the image on the wall as it collapsed, revealing a staircase, the dust sending both Busters into a coughing fit.
As the dust settled, Rookie turned her attention once more to the staircase, tweaking settings on her PKE meter and watching the response with interest. Watching her, Egon couldn't help but see a little of himself in her as she focused on the scientific fascination with the whole situation, rather than allowing her fears to consume her. Maybe she had been the right candidate for the job after all.
5. Walking Disaster Zones
The room around Rookie was filled with sensitive jars of slime, in various rainbow hues. An angry cultist spirit whooshed by her, striking her with the handle of its scythe. She frowned, rubbing her head, and then, becoming increasingly determined, she ducked and rolled on the next flyby from the spirit, dousing it in ectoplasm to negate the effects of the black slime that it had been bathing itself in. It growled at her, and she clenched her jaw. It didn't like that, did it? Flipping the switch on her neutrona wand, she proceeded to ensnare the spook in the capture stream. The spirit wasn't about to go so easily and jerked at the stream of protons, trying to get free, breaking the jars of slime in the process. Soon, the floor had flooded with various hues of slime. Rookie was not pleased. That'd make maintaining her footing a little harder.
Just then, her walkie-talkie hissed, and Peter's voice remarked, “I do so LOVE the sound of proton streams firing and breaking everything in sight.” Rookie snickered softly, before smiling grimly, her determination to rescue her friends – how quickly had they become that from being her employers and colleagues, she wondered? – rebuilding deep within her. As the spirit captured in her stream finally began to falter, she slammed the spirit off the floor to daze it and threw a trap, stamping on the pedal. With a scream, the spirit was sucked into the trap, and then all was silent as the trap slammed shut, releasing only a small amount of acrid smoke, indicating that the capture had been a success.
Picking up the trap and securing it to her belt, Rookie looked around, trying to figure out where to go next. Pulling out her PKE meter, she decided to let the valences do the talking.
6. Nakama
Shandor Island had taken a lot out of Rookie, as she had weaved and dodged the vile black slime being spewed by the Behemoth haunting Ivo Shador's clockwork instruments. The boys had been trapped several floors up, unable to do anything about the beast, meaning that Rookie had borne the brunt of the creature and its spawn. The overalls she had been wearing had been safely disposed of by Ray, after she had been thoroughly doused in the black slime herself. The stuff had been sticky, making it increasingly difficult to move. The adrenaline rush had kept her going, even through the additional work Peck had created for them by shutting down the containment unit, until Ray had debriefed them in the car on the way back to the firestation. It was then that the effects of the black slime had begun to take their toll, as she became rapidly moody. She had scowled at Egon as he waved a PKE meter in her direction and Ray's eyes had intimated his concern as Rookie's face took on a slightly green tinge. She held her head and her shoulders quivered as a sensation of cold and dizziness overtook her.
After a hot shower and a change of clothes, Rookie sat on the couch in the living quarters of the Firehouse. She clutched a strong and sweet cup of tea, shivering despite the layers of blankets. Winston's fingers held Rookie's free wrist as he looked at his watch, counting mentally to take her blood pressure.
“Man, I've never anybody's blood pressure that low before,” Winston commented in surprise as he concluded counting. Reaching for the electronic thermometer, he brushed aside Rookie's wet hair, and placed the business end into her ear, pressing a button on the handle. Seconds later, it too reported an abnormally low temperature. “This doesn't look good, Egon.”
"The black slime will do that," Egon replied as he continued to take readings with the PKE meter, which chirped and clicked. "The Cadet took a heavy dose during the encounter with the Behemoth."
“You don't say?” Peter muttered softly.
"She's the first person we've really seen affected, so we can't be sure what other effects it might have,” Egon continued. “But the lower blood pressure and temperature suggests that the black slime infects not only the soul, but one's physiology, slowing the vital functions.” His expression darkened, looking at Winston over the PKE meter. “If exposed to the black ectoplasm for a prolonged period of time, it may even lead to death."
"Oh, that's real comforting, Egon," Peter quipped, earning himself a stern look from Winston. Rookie just stared into her cup of tea, not seeming to be entirely there.
Ray also stared into space, his expression thoughtful. “Well,” he murmured, tilting his head to one side. “We already neutralize the black slime with ectoplasm that's been charged with positive energy and feelings.”
Peter regarded Ray with a look of disgust. "You're suggesting we slime the kid further?"
Ray's face fell, and he lightly slapped Peter upside the head. "No, Venkman, listen: if we can get her to fight it by thinking positively, maybe the force of those thoughts might be enough to fight the effects of the black slime. It's not that far from our theory on the slime blowers."
"That could help," Egon agreed, "but I'm not sure her thoughts alone would be enough. We would need to create positive thoughts of our own." Seeing Peter's skeptical look, he added, "try to imagine it as being like insulation, keeping the positive energy from seeping out, thus making the process more efficient, and requiring less effort on her part."
Rookie didn't seem to respond to anything that the Busters around her were talking about, still holding on to her rapidly cooling mug of tea. Ray glanced at her empty expression, and reached out a hand, placing it over her own. Rookie met Ray's eyes with a hollow, distant expression. “You're gonna be okay, kid,” Ray assured her calmly. “You're gonna get through this.”
"Of course she is," Peter replied wryly. "She's with us. What could possibly go wrong?" Winston shot Peter a warning glance, which he didn't seem to pay any heed to.
"Alright, cadet, I need you to concentrate for a bit," Ray told her firmly but gently. “Try to remember your happiest memories. Immerse yourself in them. Close your eyes if it helps.”
Almost mechanically, Rookie closed her eyes. She felt so tired and briefly found herself wondering what the point was, before fighting that thought defiantly, picking out a happy memory to dwell upon. Her mind alighted on the letter she had received from Ray last week, welcoming her to the Ghostbusters. She had been so incredibly thrilled for the chance to work with them. Now that she was one of their colleagues... no, one of their friends, not just a member of their team... it was one of the best things had ever happened to her.
Egon's PKE meter blipped softly as the positive energy emanated from Rookie. Keeping his eyes on his meter, he too began to call to mind his happiest memories, while still noticing Ray, Winston and Peter closing their eyes, doing the same. Rookie seemed to relax as the intense shivering slowed and came to a stop. Egon slipped his stethoscope on and pressed the diaphragm to her wrist, checking his watch to measure her blood pressure as she – they – fought the effects of the black slime. He could feel her physically becoming warm again rather than the freezing cold and clammy way she had been. Slowly but surely, her pulse began to return to normal. The electronic thermometer also indicated that her core temperature was on the rise.
Rookie was snapped out of her reverie as the mug she had been holding fell to the floor. She looked down at the mug as the tea spilled out on to the wooden floor, and picked it back up, setting it on the table, rubbing her forehead.
“How do you feel?” Egon asked.
Rookie furrowed her brows, trying to remember why she was wrapped in blankets, with wet hair, wearing her “civilian” clothing. She vaguely remembered getting slimed pretty severely, and the oddly morose mood she had slipped into on the way home. Egon nodded slowly. “Your memory will return eventually,” he told her as he scanned her with the PKE meter. “The worst effects of the black slime should be over, however.”
Black slime. Rookie planted her forehead in her palm. She had been gotten by a ghoul, hadn't she? No wonder she had felt so terrible.
“Even so,” Ray spoke up, “perhaps we should watch over her, just for tonight, to make sure?”
“That would be advisable, yes,” Egon replied. “I can take the first watch.”
“I'll take second, then,” Ray nodded. “Venkie, Winston, can we sign you up?”
“So long as it means I get enough sleep to function in the morning,” Peter replied. Ray chuckled and shook his head. Rookie smiled too, watching them. Despite the slime and risks of the job, joining them had been, just as her memory had made clear, the best thing that had ever happened to her. She looked forward to what her future with them held.
END