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Fourth Arrival at Milliways + 3 Days
Milliways

I'm not alone.

I know that's a horrible thing to say, considering the number of friends I've made here and the kinds of trust I can place in them (and I hope them in me), but. . . it's a question of worlds. I've been the only representative of my particular continuum for as long as I've been here, at least so far as I know. I wouldn't normally mind it, but there's the fact that when you're at the far end of time and you see the people you consider your new friends have people from their continua- people they actually know, people they've associated with since you were just a couple of gametes with really big dreams- it gets under your skin to some degree. Flash's known Hal Jordan for years, Andrew's known Warren and Faith for a long time, Mike and Raph are, well, they're brothers, Romana and Ace are from the same universe- I'm sure there's more, but they're the ones who come to mind. I've been the only representative of my world, and to a lesser degree, of the two other continua I've wandered into. (Unless you want to count Mina and Damon as being from my world's past, but I'm not really sure about that.) It's not the kind of thing I've spent much time consciously thinking about, but I have a feeling it's been lurking in the back of my head for a while now biding its time and waiting to jump out at me. I know it's been cropping up in my day-to-day thoughts since Tim died.

And now it can shut up and go away, because Peter Venkman is here. Okay, he's not from my universe, he's from a continuum where we went into business sometime in the 1980's and I have reason to believe it's not the one I wandered into, but still. It's still Peter. You could go through a hundred different worlds and look him up in each one and I remain firmly convinced that he'd still be the same Peter in each and every one of them, albeit possibly with moredifferent hair. Apparently he tried to walk into the bathroom at the firehouse and wound up here instead, which gives me hope that he'll be able to go home under his own power without the kinds of problems I've been having. I told him about the bar and the rules and the patrons and what's going on outside the observation window, and he seemed to be adapting pretty well even if Ryo-oh-ki did kinda spook him when she grabbed his leg. I can't really blame him for being a little weirded out by this place, since the only reason I didn't get completely schnockered by everything going on here when I arrived was that I thought I was dead. . . but that's not important. He knew me, even if I wasn't the Ray he knows from his universe, and I knew him even if he wasn't mine. He was worried about me. I could see it. He's still Peter, and I've known him since I was fifteen years old in one way or another.

I'm not the only representative of my world here. I'm not alone. Not any more.