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[gone_byebye]

Continued from here:

There were meters. There were sensors. There were sniffy things that normally got reserved for testing the air in entire apartments. There were things that got stuck to the temples with medical temporary glue. There were gadgets and gizmos and all kinds of things in the second-floor lab at the Firehouse, and all of them got used with the kind of enthusiasm that was endearing (if a bit freaky) in Ray and outright terrifying in Egon. The in-depth examination of the two Drs. Venkman could have gone on for hours, save that even Ray had enough sense to clap a hand over Egon's mouth and say, "I think we're done," when he sensed the word 'probe' making its way to the physicist's speech queue. "What've we got in the way of results, anyway?"

"Not nearly enough analysis to say," Egon answered with a faint scowl. "Give me ninety minutes and I'll have some proper answers for you."

"All right." Ray pulled a couple of coils of wire from the latest device off his shoulder and set them down on the nearest shelf. "So where do we go from here?"

"Anywhere you like, but I would stay relatively close to the Firehall if I were you. If the patterns of the last few days are anything to go by, I have a feeling there's going to be a call coming in this afternoon."

Ray nodded and glanced over at Peter. One of him, anyway. "You heard the man... preferences?"

Comments

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

Venkman immediately agreed, watching his troubled friend, "I am, too, Ray. I honestly wish there was more I could do to stop it from happening again." He added, muttering just to himself he thought, "If I wasn't walking on eggshells half the time with my burnt-out head here, that is." Ray didn't need to hear how messed up he was right now, and he knew his other self wouldn't say anything unless he ended up as a detriment to the group. He already had an idea he was going to have to remain behind here. His younger self was right, he wasn't in any shape to handle a bust. Not like this. It was too soon, and he just had a helluva more dumped on him. But like hell, he was going to worry his friend with anything about it.

He responded, "We'll get him one way or another. We'll stop him. We've taken on a lot bigger fry than him. He's just some possessed little pissant with some hopped-up powers. That's nothing to us. We're Ghostbusters, when the going gets tough, we get tougher, and go out to face it. Right?"

[gone_byebye]

Ray lifted his head a little at the half-heard murmur, but said nothing. He was in no mood to puzzle the meaning out of the words anyway. When Venkman spoke again he listened, and thought for a bit, and then smiled- maybe not the smile he normally used, not the face-splitting grin that half the papers in New York and virtually everyone in Milliways was used to, but still a smile. "Right," he answered, as firmly as he could. "That's why we get to wear the funny suits, as I believe I said to Andrew when we first started talking in the Bar. All right, then. We'll deal with him tomorrow, but in the meantime there's one other really, really big question..."

He glanced meaningfully at the arrangement of the room. "You gonna arm-wrestle Peter the Younger for the bed, or what?"

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

Venkman tensed when he thought Ray heard his offhand remark, but relaxed again.

"Peter the Younger?" He laughed slightly, but it sounded forced, and devoid of his usual humor. He then sagged a bit, and his face briefly revealed how much strain this trip on top of everything else was taking on him, "It's his bed, I don't feel like arguing for it. I'm tired enough I'll just crash anywhere, even the floor." He stood up, and stumbled a moment before he took a proper step.

*Shit, I hope we can get this guy by tomorrow. Before it's too late.* But his mind was divided on whether it was Mike or himself that was running out of time quicker.

"So, time to turn in then? I think I might have spied a couch downstairs with my name on it."

[gone_byebye]

"Nonsense. Even if we didn't have a decent couch, we make a point of having cots and pillows in storage just in case. Let's get you downstairs and set up for the evening, and we'll deal with Mike tomorrow. Who knows? If he's still traveling on foot, we could have him nailed and returned to the pen in time for happy hour."

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

Venkman nodded tiredly, worn out, and only semi-focused for several reasons.

"Sounds good, Ray," he yawned, and headed downstairs with Ray to get some sort of temporary sleeping arrangements. He wasn't aware of some of the looks he got as he slowly walked along. Egon seemed thoughtful, Janine looked frazzled and worried, Winston was studying him a bit. But his other self was especially focused on him, his eyes grim, and inner alarm bells going off in his head.

Once the cot was set up, Peter barely said good night to Ray, before his head hit the pillow, and he was asleep in a matter of seconds.