Just Another Afternoon
a Ghostbusters, Inc. story by Setcheti
Okay, some of you may find this disturbing because it talks about what happened last September; if you have trouble with that subject then please don’t read any more! This story was already in progress when Tipper issued her April challenge and wonder of wonders it matched up with all of her requirements except for one – a lack that was easily remedied.
MegTipper’s April Challenge A
challenge for you from me: Some, one or
all of the boys are on the edge -- not figuratively, literally. It can be the
edge of a cliff, the roof of a building, the scaffolding on a skyscraper, a
ledge on the side of a rock face -- you name it, so long as it is a long way
down. They can be standing, dangling, falling, climbing, whatever works. How
you get them there, and get them out of it, is entirely up to you. I only have one other little caveat. You must use one, some or all of the
following words in the story: birthday, chocolate, shower and fool. It is April
after all. Any universe, any style. Good Luck!
Horrible things may happen, but life goes on – because that’s what life
is supposed to do.
It was just one of those afternoons, the kind where there really isn’t
anything to do except for the things you don’t want to. Chris finally pried himself out of his office
after three hours of staring at the paperwork instead of doing it and went to
check on the rest of his team. A note
that fell off his door when he opened it said Nathan would again be gone for
the day and detailed what hospital he’d be at and what shift he was covering –
a double, Chris noticed with a sigh and a grimace, he really needed to have
another talk with Jackson about what happens to the candle when you burn it at
both ends for too long.
Thank goodness he’d been able to get the message across to most of the
rest of the men a lot earlier. The first
hurdle had been convincing everyone that it was all right for one of them to
want to stay with Ezra at the firehouse while the others used their PKE meters
at the disaster site to help locate survivors; he’d told them in no uncertain
terms that taking care of their own was just as important as doing their part
to help everyone else. So they’d set up
a rotating schedule that ended up saving everyone’s sanity, giving each man some
much-needed time basically alone and away from the carnage at the
The other hurdle had been JD’s birthday, which just happened to fall on
September thirtieth. JD had been
prepared to let the day slide by unremarked under the
circumstances, but Buck had overheard Nathan telling the young mathematician he
was ‘doing the right thing’ and that it ‘wouldn’t be right’ to celebrate and
anger had shocked him out of his own black fog of despair. Ezra had been able to tell them it was a form
of survivor guilt and had even managed to talk with JD about it, and Chris,
Buck and Vin had planned the party and made sure there
was enough chocolate cake for everyone to have seconds – or, in Vin’s case,
fourths. Chris privately thought that
next time they should probably get two cakes, one just for Vin
and another for everyone else.
The party had restored some normalcy to life at the firehouse, which
for weeks had been no more than a pit stop where the Ghostbusters repaired
equipment, showered, and occasionally slept.
Laundry and chores started to get done again, meals once again became
communal affairs instead of desperate raids on the kitchen, and the television
was being turned on to provide entertainment rather than information. Their old habits and routines had slowly begun
to reestablish themselves as they started to take calls again, and now there
was just the odd ripple that still needed to be smoothed out.
The ground floor of the firehouse was empty and quiet. A note on Nettie’s
desk said she’d left early for a dental appointment and the machine was
catching their calls – or would be if they’d gotten any calls, which they
hadn’t. Her log book said that Buck was
sitting in on a meeting with the city’s civic engineers, Josiah had gone book
hunting and JD was over at
Ideally the person to disassemble Nathan’s own manifestation of
survivor guilt would have been Ezra, but the two men hadn’t been getting along
very well lately because of that very problem; the biochemist had been subtly,
almost subconsciously ostracizing the psychologist because he ‘hadn’t been
there,’ or ‘hadn’t been involved’. Ezra
was still carrying his own load of unearned guilt over being unable to help
when he felt like he was needed most, and although he hid it well Chris knew
that Nathan’s seemingly innocuous comments were making a bad situation
worse. And the last thing anyone wanted to
do right now was to make things worse for Ezra than they already were.
Dropping the crumpled ball of paper back into the box, Chris ventured
upstairs to the third floor to check on the only other two members of his team
still in residence. Vin
would most likely be in the family room taking advantage of the quiet time to
catch up on the classes he was taking toward his parapsychology degree, and
Ezra should be stretched out on the couch alternately dozing off and helping
Vin study. The idea of parking himself
in his recliner with some cocoa and joining in the repartee between the two
younger men sounded to Chris like a highly acceptable way to waste the rest of
the afternoon.
But the family room was empty. Ezra
had probably decided to sleep upstairs in the bunkroom where it was warmer,
Chris decided, and Vin was off somewhere reveling in
solitude. He’d just check in on Ezra and
then come back down to his recliner to enjoy a little solitude of his own,
maybe even read a book or catch up on the scientific journals he hadn’t had
time for lately.
But the bunkroom was empty too.
Chris touched Ezra’s neatly made bed and felt how cold it was; an
answering chill ran down his spine. He
could still hear the psychologist’s agonized scream that morning more than a
month ago when the cacophony of thousands of frightened, angry, newly-released
souls had poured into his mind in an unblockable
torrent, still feel the hard impact with the wooden floor as he’d tackled the
smaller man and pinned him down when he tried to escape to the roof with every
intention of throwing himself off to end the torment, escape the pain…
Oh God, the roof.
Chris was on the last flight of stairs before he even realized he’d
left the bunkroom. It had been four days
before they’d even been able to back down Ezra’s medication enough to let him
do anything but drift in a drugged stupor, and once he was lucid again he’d
cried uncontrollably and been violently sick every time another part of the
wreckage collapsed. But finally,
horribly, there were no more souls to be released from the unforgiving rubble
and the psychologist had slowly started to recover.
Getting life back to anything near normal for the rest of them had been
just a matter of putting the aftermath of the attack in perspective, setting
aside time not to think about it, setting aside more time to talk it out and reestablishing
as much of their former routine as they could; for their psychologist, though,
it was an unending battle against the constant howling presence of the seething
mass of spirits that the others could detect on their instruments but that he
was cursed with being able to see and hear.
And there was no way to predict how long it would take for the spirits
to disperse, or if they ever would.
Chris’ hand shook as he grasped the handle of the door that led to the
open roof five stories above the cracked sidewalk and rutted street. What if Ezra hadn’t been able to face
that? What if the roof was now empty
too?
Taking a deep breath, he eased open the door and stepped through,
closing it just as silently behind him.
If the psychologist were out here, alone and considering the
unthinkable, the last thing Larabee wanted to do was startle him and cause the
very tragedy he’d already prevented once.
He practically sagged against the door with relief when the sound of two voices in quiet conversation reached his ears, then
anger briefly flooded through him that the two of them had scared him like
that, and anger was closely followed by embarrassment; if he’d thought it
through instead of panicking he might not have scared himself half to death
imagining the worst. Standish had
practically put up a flag and a plaque claiming the roof as his territory after
everyone had moved into the firehouse and Tanner just liked to be out in the
open, they’d probably both just come up to get some fresh air.
He rounded the corner and saw the two men sitting shoulder to shoulder,
closer to the eroded edge on the west side of the roof than Chris would ever go
himself. Ezra had one hand wrapped
around Vin’s arm in a loose grip and with his other
hand he was pointing at something Chris couldn’t see. Moving closer, the physicist’s eyebrows
almost met his hairline when he heard what they were talking about – apparently
his fresh air theory had been wrong too.
“Yeah, I can see which one you mean,” Vin was
saying, pointing himself. “But how do
you know…”
“Because I’ve heard ones that look like that before, so I know how they
got that way. Now that one over there,
on the other hand…”
“You mean the one that looks like a sheep?”
Ezra squinted and frowned. “Now
that you mention it, at this distance I do see the resemblance. It doesn’t look like that up close, though;
that’s one that was crushed.”
“I don’t want to see it up close then,” Vin
told him, shaking his head. “What about
the red one, that fast one over there?”
“That one wasn’t a person - at least, not recently.” Ezra let go of his arm. “I think that’s enough for today, don’t you?”
“Getting tired?” The
psychologist nodded. “Yep, time to quit
then. Thanks for showin’
me, though; I understand better now.” Vin caught sight of Chris then and grinned. “Hey, Cowboy, what brings you up here?”
“Lookin’ for the two of
you.” Chris walked over to them and awkwardly sat
down beside Ezra, feeling a flash of guilt for putting his two friends between
himself and the five story drop to the concrete. “Couldn’t take it inside anymore, huh?”
“Mr. Tanner wished to see what I see on a daily basis,” Ezra told him
quietly. “You gentlemen normally only
get to see non-physical entities when they are somehow engaged with us, I saw
no harm in agreeing to his request.” He
frowned a little and then raised a slightly shaking hand and stopped it just
short of touching Chris’ arm. “I can
show you as well, if you like.”
The offer was carefully casual, but Chris knew that Ezra must be almost
desperate to share his burden, to ‘prove’ the validity of what had happened to
him to the rest of them. And to tell the
truth, Chris had wondered once or twice how they were going to help the
psychologist when none of them could relate to what he was going through; he
hadn’t realized that Ezra could share a piece of the experience with them this
way. He nodded agreement and braced
himself slightly, but to his disappointment when the other man’s slender hand
wrapped around his bicep he felt nothing at all. “No, pard,” Vin said, correctly reading his expression. “Ya gotta look over there.”
Larabee followed the gesture Vin made with his
eyes…and his mouth dropped open; the air above the ruins was filled with a
veritable mushroom cloud of spirits, all shapes and sizes, and it looked like
it was absolutely boiling. Here and
there one would break away from the seething mass and go streaking off to parts
unknown, and when one of Vin’s sheeplike
ones darted in their direction he pulled out of Ezra’s loose grip with a
gasp. “They’re leaving the mass, where
do they go?”
The psychologist sighed and shook his head. “Everywhere. I’ve seen some few of them actually disperse
from this plane of existence, but the majority that
break away are simply relocating, perhaps homing in on a familiar person or
place to haunt or merely seeking to strike out on their own. Either way I believe we need not fear
unemployment in our lifetimes, as many of these immigrants from the site of the
disaster will no doubt be highly unwelcome wherever they end up.”
“That’s ten times worse than what I’d pictured from the instrument
readings,” Chris muttered unhappily. “I
wonder if there’s any way we can speed things up…”
“I wouldn’t advise it,” Ezra cautioned.
He rubbed his eyes and sighed again.
“You must remember, the eyes of the world are
upon our violated city at the moment; it would be very bad publicity for us to
show up with proton packs blazing to perpetrate some sort of mass capture of
the martyred dead.”
“He’s right,” Vin agreed. “I don’t like the idea of sitting around and
waiting for that to do something,” he gestured to
the now invisible cloud, “but no matter how we try to mess with it it’s going
to be a shot in the dark and we’re gonna look real
bad. We’ll just have to keep an eye on
it and deal with the ghosts that break off from the group one at a time.”
“Just keep it business as usual,” Chris said, nodding. “Well, I don’t like it, but I think you’re
both probably right. We’ll tell everyone
else tonight after dinner – got some other things to talk out too, we might as
well get it all out of the way at once.”
“Ah, I assume you’re referring to Dr. Jackson’s possible defection from
our ranks?” Ezra asked. At Chris’ raised
eyebrow he shrugged. “I overheard him
talking to Mr. Sanchez about it, apparently the
hospital has offered him a supervisory position in their main laboratory.”
Vin looked worried.
“You think he’ll take it?”
Ezra shrugged again. “I believe
those trying to recruit him away from us are playing off his sense of social
responsibility and using his overactive conscience against him. It is quite possible he will martyr himself
to the cause, so to speak, if he is convinced enough that he could be of more
help there than here.”
Chris swore softly. “Yep, that
would be the way to get to Nathan, all right – just convince him he isn’t doing
enough to help. Think you could talk
some sense into him, Ezra?”
The response was immediate and negative. “No, he won’t listen to me,” the psychologist
told him, dropping his eyes. “I did make
the mistake of trying to discuss it with him once already, and the result
was…unpleasant. He might be more open to
the rest of you because of your shared experience.”
“That’s something else we have to talk about,” Chris growled; Vin looked angry as well.
“That bullshit is going to stop.”
Ezra didn’t look at them. “It is
a normal psychological reaction to the situation…”
“I don’t care,” Chris interrupted.
“Nathan’s a big boy, he can control his ‘psychological reaction to the
situation’ if he makes the effort – and if he won’t, the
hospital can have him.” That snapped
Ezra’s head up. “I won’t see what we’ve worked
so hard to build here ripped apart because he’s wallowing in his emotional
reaction instead of using his reason to work past it.” He squeezed the psychologist’s shoulder
reassuringly. “He should be taking
lessons from you, Ezra, not putting you down.”
The look of astonishment on Ezra’s face was almost comical, and Vin patted him on the back.
“Pard, you have to know we’re
all damn proud of you; it’s only just over a month since it happened and you’re
doin’ better than anyone could have expected. Hell, you’ll be back to a hundred percent by
Christmas at this rate!”
“I hope so,” Ezra murmured. He
was back to rubbing his eyes again, and he shivered slightly as a brisk October
breeze whistled across the rooftop. “But
right now I’m ashamed to say that all I want to do is go back downstairs and
monopolize the couch for the remainder of the afternoon.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Vin agreed,
stretching. “Got some work to catch up
on now that classes are back in session, I should probably get some of it done
while it’s quiet.”
“I’ll make the cocoa,” Chris said, climbing back to his feet. Vin and Ezra stood
up as well, and when the psychologist swayed slightly both men reached out to
help him regain his balance…and as soon as their hands touched his a tidal wave
of crying, shrieking and moaning assaulted both of them.
Chris vaguely heard Vin yell, but the only
thing he could think about was the horrible noise invading his mind. He staggered, and as soon as the connection
was broken the sound cut off; the echo of it, however, remained in his head
like a raw wound. So much pain, so much
anger…
Hands grabbed at him and a voice cried out his name, and then he
impacted with the rough surface of the roof in a tangle with a smaller
body. “Oh lord, Chris, I’m sorry,” he
heard Ezra’s voice whisper brokenly. “How
could I be such a fool! When you both took my hands at once, I didn’t think…”
Chris opened his eyes. Vin was leaning against the wall with a shell-shocked look
on his face and Ezra was trying to untangle himself. “That’s what you
hear?” he demanded breathlessly, glaring at the psychologist.
Ezra flinched and nodded. “God
damn,” Vin breathed.
“N-nice save, by the way, Ez – thought ol’ Chris was over the edge for sure.”
The physicist sat up and rubbed his shoulder, not looking toward the
edge that was still too close. “I won’t
complain about the landing, then – better up here than down there. Now why the hell didn’t you tell us it was
like that, Standish?!”
“I-I did.” Ezra was drawing away
from him. “I…told you I could hear them.”
“Don’t think you told us enough, pard,” Vin said softly, giving Chris a warning look. “That there noise is enough to drive a man
out of his mind; forget what I said about bein’
proud, I’m damn well in awe.”
“That goes double for me,” Chris agreed. “I’m amazed you aren’t quivering in a corner
at
“It is…draining after a time, but no, it doesn’t hurt.” The psychologist seemed startled by the
question. “You can’t mean you wish to
experience it again?”
Chris’ expression hardened with determination. “If I have to, I will – whatever it takes to
find a solution other than you just ‘getting used to it’. I don’t see how anyone could get used to that! But what I want first is for you to repeat
what we just did with everyone else on the team, I
want everyone to know what’s going on.
Would they be able to see that cloud after dark?”
Ezra nodded shakily. “It is
actually rather more visible at night due to the glow. But…everyone?”
“Especially Nathan,” Chris told him. “Won’t have to have a talk with him after
that, I don’t think.”
“Yep, I’d say hearin’ that would bring him
right around,” Vin agreed. “And once Buck knows what we’re up against he’ll
have a better idea how to make somethin’ that will
fix it.”
“There goes the lab budget again.” Chris climbed back to his feet. “Although I’d say from the looks of that
cloud business will probably be too good soon.
Now why don’t we all get inside where it’s warm so I can get back to my
lazy afternoon?”
Vin laughed and pulled Ezra up by the arm, steadying
him. “Hey, I’d say this is already a
pretty laid-back afternoon in the life of a Ghostbuster,
wouldn’t you?”
Chris cocked an eyebrow at him in
disbelief – and then he laughed too.
Even Ezra managed a smile. “I
guess so, now that you mention it. C’mon
you two, let’s go get that cocoa.”
“Extra marshmallows for me,” Vin requested. “And do we still have any of those cookies
left…”
Yep, Chris thought, grinning and shaking his head as he
preceded the two younger men down the stairs.
It’s just another afternoon at Ghostbusters, Inc.