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One moment, Erin has her finger on the trigger. The proton wand thrums pleasantly in her hands, and she knows with absolute certainty that they’re going to catch this ghost. A few yards to her left, Abby has the same posture, except her expression is a lot more manic. Abby glances her way and winks, a silent communication that all is right in the world.
The next moment, the ghost erupts; Erin flies backward. Her back hits something solid, which she registers as the wall. This hurts, but at least she’s not still in motion.
Except she is.
She hears something shattering, and then her body continues onward. The air is suddenly cold, and she can barely suck in any oxygen. She’s falling, at least she thinks she is because everything is a blur around her, but she can definitely feel some quick, downward momentum. Her body finally halts with a sickening crunch. With a groan, she tries to lift herself up, but for some reason, her arms won’t move. She gets her fingers to investigate around her and discovers she’s in some sort of crumpled, metal bed. Her legs hurt, and so does her back.
Her vision tunnels, and she falls unconscious.
---
“Holy shit!” Holtzmann leaps up, her hair twisted and blasted about wildly. “I’ve never seen a ghost do that! It exploded!”
Patty, who had been knocked back into a couch, grumbles and fixes her clothing. “I’d prefer to never see one do it again, either.”
“Think it’s still around? Or is it gone now? Into the ether?” Holtzmann skitters forward to examine the blackened mark scorched into the ground. She scritches a nail along the surface and sniffs the debris that comes up on her finger. When that fails to reveal pertinent information, she licks--and flinches her revulsion. “Yeah, that does not taste good.”
When Holtz licks again, Patty throws her hands up. “Yet, you do it again.”
“For science,” Holtz gasps back.
“Yeah, and what’s it taste like?”
“Burning ghost.”
“Guys?” Abby dusts herself off and peers at the window. “I think we have a problem?”
Patty and Holtz immediately drop their banter in favor of joining Abby at the window. They all stare down at the street. Holtz moves first, panic constricting her throat as she all but falls down the stairs from the second floor to the first. She hears Abby and Patty some distance behind her, but she doesn’t waste time checking how far. All that matters is reaching Erin. Darting outside, she stumbles to the hood of the red Ford. She grabs Erin’s hand.
“Hey, hot stuff?”
Abby grabs her shoulder. “Does she have a pulse?”
She listens to Patty dialing for an ambulance as she fumbles for Erin’s wrist. She can’t find any beat, so she quickly changes tactics. There’s a weak pulse throbbing in Erin’s throat, which is all the hope she needs.
“She has one,” she calls to Abby, who relays the information to Patty. “But she’s not responding to verbal prompting.”
“The ambulance will be here soon.”
Holtz clings to Erin’s hand.
---
“I’m staying with you.”
Erin offers her a wobbling smile. Her left arm is in a cast, as is her right leg, and her neck is surrounded by a stiff brace. She looks pale and sickly in the hospital bed, with the white walls reflecting against her complexion.
“Holtz, I’m not dead. I’m going to be fine.”
“I’m staying,” Holtz repeats, glaring at the nurse who dared tell her that visiting hours were over.
The poor nurse parrots yet again that Holtz needs to leave, unwilling or unable to do much else to enforce the rules. To save the nurse, who has been nothing but kind and accommodating, Erin lifts Holtz’s hand to her mouth and presses a kiss to Holtz’s knuckles.
“Go, and tell Abby and Patty how I’m doing. You know when visiting hours are tomorrow. I’d appreciate it if you could bring me the new Entertainment Weekly and a blanket from my apartment.”
“Yeah?”
“Abby has my spare. She’ll let you in.”
Holtz grimaces and lets go. She struts past the nurse, as if leaving is her idea in the first place.
---
Erin lets Patty wheel her around, despite feeling capable of moving herself about. Her friends have been protective of her since the accident, and she can’t blame them. There were moments, directly after impact, when she doubted her chances of survival. She appreciates their very visible concern, from Abby’s long-lasting warm hugs to Holtz’s enthusiastic hand-holding. Patty preps meals for her and helps her shift from bed to wheelchair and back again, and even Kevin has done his best to make her feel better by telling what she hopes are jokes and not real experiences from his life.
They reach her front door, and she swallows past the awkward lump in her throat. She hasn’t been home for several weeks, and she’s a bit nervous about crossing the threshold. Metaphorically speaking, this is a return to normal life, which she doesn’t feel ready for. She’s still dealing with her broken limbs, a few broken ribs, and an acute fear of windows. Her stomach clenches when she gets too close to any view that’s above the ground floor of a building, and when she closes her eyes, she can still feel the wind whistling past her body.
Patty leans by her ear. “You okay?”
“Yes.” Her voice belies her calm by trembling.
“We could go to the firehouse instead, if you want.”
“No. I need to water my plants.”
“Holtzy’s been doing that.”
Erin reaches for the door. “I’m going inside.”
“Okay. I respect that.” Patty pushes the door open and eases Erin over the raised lip that seals the doorway. They glide down the front hall and into the living room, where a temporary twin bed has been erected.
Laughing, Erin spots Holtz curled up and napping. The wiry blonde sits up, wipes her eyes, and grins at Erin.
“Just quality testing it out for you. Mattress isn’t as soft as the one in your bedroom--”
“You’ve been in my bed?”
“--but it’ll do. Blankets are plush, and pillow is choice.” Holtz winks at her. “And yes. You can’t just let me loose in your apartment and expect me to not snoop through everything.”
Erin’s mind flashes to the journal she keeps in a desk drawer--the journal filled with pining for Holtzmann. The journal she would die if anyone saw. Her cheeks flush a deep red, and Holtzmann narrows her eyes curiously.
“Get outta her bed, baby.” Patty shoos Holtzmann away and then lifts Erin into her arms. Erin closes her eyes and sucks in several deep breaths to ward off the throbs of pain when her limbs get jostled. Once she’s settled, she lets her head flop back against the pillow.
“Hurts?” Holtz scampers close again and latches onto her hand. “Dumb question, I know.”
“I’m fine,” Erin lies.
Abby enters from the kitchen, toting a tray of soup and a glass of water. “Are you still on a liquid diet?”
“No, but soup is great.”
“Did you already fill your prescriptions?”
“Yes. Patty’s got them.”
Abby waits for Patty to dispense the bottles into her waiting palm. She arranges them on the shelf in front of the television. Per the instructions, she sorts pills into a day-by-day box. Erin watches from afar, grateful that she’s got friends who know what she needs before she does.
“For the first week, we’ll be taking shifts, so you won’t be alone. The doc was worried about your concussion, so we’re gonna keep a close eye on you.”
The thought of not being alone for a week makes Erin frown. She quickly urges her lips up, to keep from worrying her friends. “Thank you all. I appreciate all the time and effort you’re putting into getting me healthy.”
Patty flips her hand, and Abby laughs. Holtz remains still, holding her hand and staring at her. “Erin, sweet, naive Erin. You know we would murder for you--”
“Well,” Abby interrupts. “Maybe not murder--”
“--Manslaughter?” Patty offers.
“This is nothing. Erin, we love you.”
Erin chokes up and waves Abby over for her soup. Abby dishes out her daily medication as well, and she swallows everything down. Thanks to the pain medication, the throbbing in her limbs abates, and she lets her eyes close. She sleeps easier than she has in weeks.
---
She wakes in the dark of the night with a dry mouth. As she wheezes, Abby putters into the room with a fresh glass of water. She gulps down every drop and wipes at her lips. Abby pulls a chair over and smiles at her.
“So?”
“So.”
“I found your journal.”
“Is everyone a professional snooper?” Erin rolls onto her side and tugs the blankets up to her chin. “Just leave me alone.”
“Erin. I knew you were going to let Holtzmann into your home, so I went by first to see if there was anything incriminating that I needed to hide from her. The woman is like a ferret. I figured you didn’t want her reading anything in there.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry. I know I over-stepped, but I was trying to help.”
Erin turns back to her. “I know. I… I just… I wasn’t ready for anyone to know.”
“It’s a little late for that, Er.” Abby smirks. “You’re transparent.”
“What? No way.”
“You turn bright red when she flirts with you. You flirt back.”
“It’s just embarrassing. That’s all.”
“You stare at her when she dances.”
“You don’t?”
“Uh, no.”
Erin sighs. “Does she know?”
“Nope. The only person more oblivious than you is her.”
“Thank the powers that be.”
Abby shakes her head. “You know she likes you, too, right?”
“Maybe. But I don’t want to disrupt our team dynamic. Things work right now, and we’re a family. I can’t lose that.”
Abby lets the conversation wander away until Erin yawns and snuggles back in for another round of sleep.
---
“Girl, how do you keep it so clean in here?”
Erin watches Patty run a finger along a ledge. “Abby helped me out yesterday. I have allergies, and dust aggravates them.”
“Hm.”
“Hm?” Erin sits up and eyes her. “What’s hm?”
“Oh, nothing.” Patty plops down at her side. “You want to hear more about the next site Abby and Holtz are checking out?”
“I still think we ought to wait for calls, rather than seeking out ghosts.”
“You ain’t curious?”
“I am,” Erin allows. But talking about Holtz is dangerous territory, especially if she’s as obvious about her feelings as Abby stated.
“Well, they in this creepy ass, supposedly haunted, shipping warehouse.”
Erin fidgets and picks at her blanket. “Oh, sounds fun…”
“You worried about them?”
“No.”
“About Holtz?”
“Nope…”
“You know, I know we’ve only known one another a couple of months but that thing Holtzy said back at the bar? About family? That rings true with me, too. Y’all have been the closest thing I’ve had to siblings--”
“I thought you had three brothers? And a sister?”
“Like I said--the closest I’ve ever had to siblings--and I support you no matter what. I just want y’all to be happy. And girl, you make Holtz happier than when she’s setting fires on your desk.”
“I don’t know how that’s relev--she what?”
Patty laughs and passes her a glass of water. “Time for your pills.”
With Patty’s good company, Erin hadn’t even noticed the pain returning. She smiles at her friend and tries to emit pure gratitude through her eyes.
---
“You know, Fred really doesn’t like the sunlight--” Holtzmann states, like one would talk generally about the weather.
“Fred?” Erin asks as Holtzmann moves about the living room.
She lies on her sofa with her broken leg gently kicked up atop a few pillow. Earlier, they watched two documentaries in a row and shared a lunch consisting of take-out Indian--her blonde companion has great tastes, not to mention she is growing desperately tired of Chinese, although she would never admit to Abby. This position helps ease some of the discomfort of being in bed at all times and also allows her to keep a better eye on her wildly inappropriate companion who has today’s “shift.”
“Oh, your Mother-in-law’s tongue.” Holtzmann points out the thick potted plant that sits in Erin’s window, along with her cacti and fresh herbs. “They actually just prefer about a day’s worth of sunlight in a week, as long as you water them, they’ll live forever.”
“Uh-huh, and you decided to name my plants?”
“No, this one is Fred. He told me so himself.” Holtzmann winks. Erin fights a blush that creeps up her neck as Holtzmann easily lifts the 30-something-odd-pound potted plant and places it in the shade with her orchids. “Also, Fred has a total crush on Ophelia here... Whoops. Sorry, Fred.”
Erin laughs, not even caring about the slight ache as it jostles her injuries, and Holtzmann does a little tap dance number before bowing smoothly with a salacious wink.
“Thank you, thank you very much.”
---
Holtzmann cleans up the remainder of their lunch once Erin is certain she can’t handle any more, and then she allows Holtzmann to pick their next movie. As Holtzmann settles beside her, Erin begins to feel the extent of the already-long day in her bones. As time progresses, the pain recedes, but even the smallest actions--like watching a film--sap her energy much more quickly than they used to.
Her back aches something fierce, but she struggles not to bring attention to herself as she shifts against the arm of the sofa and her pillows. Unfortunately, Holtz appears to be observing her with intensity normally only seen in cats watching the movements of feathered toys. Holtz very gently eases down beside her and coaxes her into a more comfortable position. Since she’s moving slow, she doesn’t even jar her broken limbs. As she nestles into her new home, she inhales. Holtz smells of fresh soap and burning leaves. Erin isn’t sure how that’s possible but supposes that Holtz is capable of getting into almost anything. Holtz is a bit like a dog that way, she muses; if there’s a smell, Holtz rolls in it.
“Better?”
“Mm.”
“We don’t get to spend a lot of time together like this, do we?”
“Mm?”
“I was just…” Holtz clears her throat. “Well, what I mean is--I’m sorry you fell out of a window and crashed into a car, but I’m sorta glad in a way because we might not have ever done this if you hadn’t.”
Erin barely listens, aware that she ought to but too tired to do much more than let sleep gradually overtake her.
“I think I love you,” Holtz whispers, but Erin is already asleep.
---
Erin yawns, opens her eyes, and finds Holtz snoozing beneath her. She flushes, remembering the dreams that had visited her during her nap, and peers more closely at Holtz’s face. In slumber, Holtz is relaxed, and her lips part slightly. Given the uncomfortable angle, Erin doesn’t blame her for the occasional snore that slips out. She cups Holtz’s cheek and eases the sleeping engineer’s head up as gently as she can. However, the slight movement wakes Holtzmann up, and she stares owlishly at Erin.
“What’s shakin?”
Erin blushes. “Nothing.”
“Just, y’know, two friends, cuddling on the couch. Holding each other’s faces.” Holtz hesitates. “Wanting to kiss each other.”
Rather than recoil with embarrassment, Erin holds quite still. “Patty tells me that I make you happy.”
“You do.”
“I… I don’t know what to say, Holtz. I’m scared. I’m scared of losing our little family.”
“Do you start every relationship planning for it to end?” Holtz jokes, twirling a piece of Erin’s hair around one finger.
“Well, sort of,” she admits, averting her gaze. “All good things must come to an end.”
“Fair enough.”
Erin lets her gaze return to Holtz’s lips. She really does wonder what they taste like, how they feel. “Friends kiss sometimes, don’t they?”
“When they’re drunk,” Holtz allows. Her voice is a gentle rasp, which lures Erin a bit closer.
“I’m not drunk.”
“No.”
“But…” Erin looked to Holtz’s eyes and the down again. “Could we pretend?”
“No.”
Erin wilts. “I’m sorry.”
Holtz shakes her head. “You can kiss me whenever you want, but I don’t want you to lie about it. Kiss me because you want to kiss me, and with no need for pretext.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
Holtz shifts closer and initiates the kiss for her. It only lasts but a moment, but it sucks the air from Erin’s lungs. She’s glad she isn’t drunk because she wants to remember that moment as long as she can. She brushes her fingers against her lips as Holtz withdraws.
“See?” Holtz winks. “Easy.”
“Wow.” Erin closes her eyes and counts backward from ten to combat a bit of her anxiety. She almost died, which is a harsh reminder of how short life actually is. She swallows hard and murmurs, “Would you maybe want to go out to dinner sometime?”
“On a date?”
“Yes.”
“I would like that, Dr. Gilbert.”
Erin leans carefully back down onto Holtz’s lap. She’ll need her pain medication again soon, but for now, she’s content to just rest against Holtzmann and soak in the moment. Holtz finds the remote, which had gotten lost somewhere in the couch cushions, and selects a fresh movie for their viewing pleasure.
---
When Abby and Patty enter the apartment later that evening with boxes of pizza and bottles of soda, they find Holtz and Erin still cuddled together on the couch. Abby notes the way their fingers are tangled together and smirks.
“It’s about time.”