Author: Jheran McAlister

Rating: I’m sure it’ll hit the NC mark by the end, at least. (shrug)

Pairing: Peter/Egon

Warnings: Temporary character death

Notes: The song belongs to Ann Murray (as far as I know), and I don’t own it. I used it without permission, and I’m very very sorry if it’s gonna get me sued.
<These are Peter's thoughts.>
/These are Egon's thoughts./
*These are Winston's thoughts.*

***

A song of love is a sad song
Ailohi, ailohi, hilo
A song of love is a song of woe
Don’t ask me how I know
A song of love is a sad song
For I have loved and it’s so
I sit at the window and watch the rain
Ailohi, ailohi, hilo
Tomorrow I’ll probably love again
Ailohi, ailohi, hilo

***

Peter leaned against the door jam, his arms folded across his chest, watching with alert, green eyes as the tall blond was fixing one of the proton throwers. The long fingers seemed to dance gracefully across the metal and wires, the damage from the ghost they had confronted that afternoon slowly repairing itself under the scientist’s care. The green gaze traveled up Egon’s arm, the lean muscles bending and flexing underneath the pink sleeve as he silently worked, the broad shoulders rolling as he absently tried to get a kink out of them. The long face, the piercing richness of the blue eyes still examining the thrower for further imperfections, the thick white-blond coif catching the light from the lamp in the lab.

<He’s okay. He’s still alive.> Peter told himself silently, making sure none of his distress showed on his face as he kept a silent vigil over Egon Spengler. <First, he almost walks into a trap, then shoves me away when I get him out of it. And he thinks *I* need a keeper. Hmph.>

Egon looked up from his work to see Peter Venkman leaning against the door jam, looking the picture of casual indolence. "I’ve finished with the thrower, Peter. It should be in working order now."

Peter nodded once, keeping his eyes locked on Egon’s. They were so blue… none of the girls he ever dated had eyes that blue. Not even when he had discovered his real feelings for the physicist standing right in front of him, forcing him to attempt channeling unrequited love through different faces, different names, the only similarities being the thick sunlight of hair and eyes of varying shades of blue. Right now, all Peter wanted to do was hold him, make the doubting part of his mind believe that Egon was there, that he was alive. It may be that they would never hold each other as the psychologist had other lovers, never kiss, but just holding him close would be enough. It had to be.

"Peter?"

Peter shook his head slowly, moving forward to wrap his arms around Egon’s neck, green eyes squeezing shut as he absorbed the sensations. The faint smell of soap that Egon had used that morning, the almost impossible warmth as strong arms wrapped around his waist soothingly, one hand reaching up to run gentle fingers through Peter’s dark hair. The psychologist didn’t complain as he normally would have, but only held Egon tighter, resting his chin on the physicist’s shoulder as the tension in his body left slowly. <He’s here. He’s alive. He’s here. Alive. Here.>

Egon sighed, feeling the former quarterback’s arms tighten around his neck and feeling Peter’s face burrow into his neck. /I’m here, Peter. I won’t leave you. I never will./ He kept his fingers slowly massaging the younger man’s scalp as tremors ran through Peter’s form despite the amount of energy he used into quelling them. /You’re alive. You’re here. And I forbid you to be anywhere else, Peter Venkman./ The psychologist hadn’t seen the butcher knife heading straight for his right temple, and Egon had barely managed to throw him to the ground as the knife whistled through the air to clatter against the wall nearby. All Egon could think of at that moment was the knife blade, almost shining in the darkness as it sailed for Peter’s head.

Tightening his hold on the dark-haired Ghostbuster’s waist, he kissed Peter’s hair and nuzzled it with his nose, taking in a deep sniff of the strawberry-scented shampoo that still lingered in the dark tresses. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Peter deeply, to reassure the green-eyed psychologist that he was truly alive, that he loved him, and that he wanted to hold him. Fear of losing their fifteen-year friendship had kept the physicist silent, but he could still communicate his unflagging support through his words and actions, and he admitted that he was happy enough to hold and touch Peter in a brotherly manner. The fact that the scientist knew how much he loved the psychologist was enough to sustain him, though there were times like this when his resolve was sorely tried.

"Would you like some cocoa?" He asked the question gently into Peter’s ear, lowering his rumbling bass to a soft, caring whisper. Peter’s body shook as he took a deep breath or two, and finally nodded silently.

"C'mon. Let’s go downstairs."

Peter followed him, keeping green eyes on the taller man the whole time.

As they were about to enter the kitchen, the phone rang, startling the two. They both reached for the phone, but Peter swiped it up first.

"Ghostbusters. You got the dough, the spook’s gotta go."

Peter’s slightly annoyed expression fell into a more serious look as he listened. "Whoa, whoa, you should calm down." He grabbed a nearby pad of paper and started scribbling down an address. "Talk a little slower." He nodded as he started scribbling other stuff. "How tall did you say?" He winced a little, and even Egon could hear the frantic voice on the other end. "It’s gonna be okay. We’ll be right there."

Peter hung up quickly, turning to Egon and holding up the pad of paper, now covered in hasty scribbles. "We gotta live one."

***

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!!!!!!!!

Ray and Winston both bolted upright in bed, two pairs of brown eyes staring forward as the alarm woke them out of a sound sleep. After a few hurried minutes of dressing and suiting up, the pair were soon sliding down the pole and hopping into Ecto.

"What’s the call?" Ray asked from the backseat.

"I dunno, you tell me." Peter pulled out a pad of paper after gunning on the engine and backing out quickly and handed it to Ray without looking at the occultist.

"Hey, careful with the car, Pete!" Winston protested.

"No time." Peter said curtly as he managed to plow into traffic. "Spengs, keep an eye out for smoke."

"Seeing as it is near midnight, it will be near impossible for me to find it." Egon reminded.

"Just keep an eye out for it." Peter almost growled.

"Wow..." Ray breathed after managing to decipher Peter’s handwriting. "Egon, isn’t this--"

"Yes, it is." Egon nodded from shotgun, glancing around in an attempt to find any sign of smoke.

"What’s up?" Winston asked Ray.

"It’s a fire elemental."

"More precisely, a corporeal entity composed entirely out of living flame." Egon corrected before he saw noticed something. "There!" He pointed a finger ahead.

"Right." Peter grunted, grappling with the wheel to turn it quickly, the loud screech of tires setting Winston’s teeth on edge. As soon as they made the turn, Peter slammed on the brakes and shut off the engine.

"My god..." Winston whispered as the four of them hurried out of Ecto.

A two-story house was in flames. Smoke and bright firelight billowed out of the windows, and the lights from the street-lamps illuminated a rapidly weakening structure. There were a whole bunch of people milling about, people in various stages of dress helping to carry buckets of water to put out the fire on the first floor. From what the Ghostbusters could tell, there was no one inside.

"Awww, and I didn’t bring any weenies to roast." Peter’s attempt at humor fell flat as they hurried toward the blaze. Winston quickly found two men who were looked about ready to head inside.

"Hey! Are you the ones who called the Ghostbusters?!" Winston was forced to shout to be heard about the noise of the flames and the shouts of the people around them.

"Thank God you’re here!" One of the men turned to Winston. "There’s some kinda fire-monster inside, and it grabbed Kelly before we could stop it!"

"Who’s Kelly?" Ray shouted.

"Our daughter!" The second man answered loudly. Peter recognized him as the voice from the phone. "We need to get inside before something happens to her!"

"You heard the man, guys!" Peter shouted. "Let’s get the gas masks and go!"

"Have you called the fire department?" Egon shouted to one of the men while Ray and Peter went for the gas masks in the back of Ecto.

"Yeah, but they said the fire truck they sent can’t get around a traffic accident a couple blocks north of us!" The first man answered. "We don’t care about the house, just save Kelly!"

"We will!" Egon nodded and put on the gas mask and gloves that were shoved into his hands. Turning to the others, they nodded to each other, and headed in.

***

The first thing Peter noticed was that it was scorching. It was barely possible for him to breathe, but he managed to stay on his feet.

"Everyone, spread out!" Egon ordered, "Our first priority is the girl!"

"We’ll check down here!" Winston shouted. "You two check upstairs!" He took Ray with him into the room to the left, leaving Peter and Egon in the incinerating lobby. The two found the stairs a rising slope of flames, but when they heard a shrill scream drift through the wreckage, they hurried up without hesitation.

The hallway they found themselves in was only wide enough to let one person through at a time, and there were at least five doors that Peter could see, four to the left of the stairs and one to the right. Quickly, they each took a door and kicked it in, readying their particle throwers as soon as the doors fell into piles of flaming splinters. When they had checked each room, more black smoke billowed out into the hallway, obscuring their vision that much more. The four rooms appeared to be bedrooms, but there wasn’t anyone inside. Peter and Egon turned to the door that was to the right of the staircase.

Egon glanced down at the PKE meter he held in his left hand. "I’m reading a Class Four on the other side of this door!" Peter nodded, and they both kicked in the door.

The last room, surprisingly enough, wasn’t on fire. It was the master bedroom from what Peter could tell, the queen-sized, four poster bed situated against one wall of the room with a small area with a sink and mirror across the room from it. There was a little girl laying on the bed, her eyes closed, and a translucent spirit stood over her. When the door shattered from the two Ghostbusters kicking it in, the spirit spun around, facing them. It saw them, and suddenly flew straight at Egon. Peter shoved him out of the way, and was suddenly enveloped in a fading purplish-white light.

"Peter!" Egon shouted, seeing the psychologist wrench off the gas mask and head quickly for the girl.

Peter looked up at him with a panicked expression. The only visible way that Egon could tell the dark-haired man was possessed was that his eyes had no irises or pupils and glowed a bright white. "Huh?"

"What’s your name?" Egon asked him upon seeing his eyes.

Peter shook his head, scooping up the little girl and setting her gently on the floor. "That doesn’t matter. We need to get Kelly out of here." He gestured to the other side of the mattress. "Get that end. If we can push it through the window, we can toss her out and she won’t be hurt too badly."

"Put your gas mask back on!" Egon swept it up from where Peter had dropped it and tossed it to him. The room was already filling with black smoke, but some of it was spilling out the open windows. The possessed Peter held onto the mask without putting it on, and the physicist asked, "Is there a tree outside? We may have a better chance of getting her out without injury if one of us carried her down."

Peter shook his head. "Nope. But I can get the people down there to move." He leaned out one of the windows and shouted something that Egon didn’t catch. There was a muffled shout in reply, and then Peter went for the mattress and ripped off the covers. "Get that end!"

Egon nodded, grabbing the end and helped Peter push it toward a window. Smashing at the window with their gloved hands, the pair managed to knock out the upper window panel. They lifted one narrow end of the mattress and pushed it out of the window on a shouted count of three. It fell to the ground with a heavy thump, and some of the people helping managed to get out of the way before they got hurt.

"Spread out the comforter!" Egon ordered. "If we can wrap her in it, it’ll cushion her further against the fall!"

Peter nodded, and as soon as they had her wrapped up, the possessed psychologist made sure that there was someone below to help catch her. As they shoved her out the window, the scientists heard the unmistakable crackle of proton beams echoing from the stairs.

"The others." Egon turned to look at the possessed Peter in alarm.

Peter nodded. "Let’s go."