Work Text
It was eerily quiet in the lab when you finally finished the last sentence of a chapter, one you’d been slowly chipping away at since 5pm. You rubbed one eye and yawned softly. The light of the digital clock on the bench drew your fading attention. 11:59pm. Almost Friday, you thought to yourself. You had enough energy and consideration to fold up your thick laptop and turn off the nearby desk lamp.
While you knew Dr. Spengler would just ask you to move your stuff if it actually got in his way, you didn’t want to take further advantage of the space that the guys work in. This was their workplace, not yours, even though you were
technically working on this parapsychology book with them. Specifically, the chapter you’d just finished came right before Ray’s planned in-depth analysis of Class Five entities, using Slimer as an example of how taming and experimentation is easiest on these spirit types. You recalled a joke Venkman had made a few days ago about getting Slimer’s permission before slandering him, and you grinned. You were just grateful the ghost was in his cage and unable to slime your expensive computer, or Egon’s.
The hum of the containment grid faded in for a moment as you passed by it. You trodded up the stairs to the beds and your underwhelming futon on the floor. Winston had tried to offer his bed to you when it became clear you’d be working on this book for a few months (he rarely slept in it anyway), but you argued that the beds were for the actual ghostbusters, not the academic trying to justify their interest in ghosts, and you got yourself a futon to position by the stairs. Ray had said something about how your contributions to the field of parapsychology were more than enough but you were stubborn. Besides, you liked being closer to the ground.
Or maybe you were just nervous because Winston slept right next to Ray Stantz.
And over the past month you’d been writing this book, you noticed that you preferred talking to Ray, spending time with him, and making him laugh over actually making this vital piece of literature. It was distracting in the best way possible. The way his face lit up when he explained a new concept to you, or the attentiveness with which he listened to you do the same thing, or how easy it was to jump from topic to topic with him while still following conversation threads…well, Winston made a joke one day about how you and Ray were like two halves of the same brain. You’d chuckled and agreed, but it soon became apparent that there was more to it than friendship. You liked him a lot. And you had no clue if he knew or not. He knew you really well, and you knew him, but he would sometimes miss the obvious if it didn’t happen to catch his attention. It was like that when you were coworkers at Columbia and it was still true with this new line of work.
You thought through this as you climbed into bed. But as you lay your head on the pillow, you didn’t feel the normal heaviness of fatigue. You should have, given how you’d been writing so intensely with one 15-minute dinner break, but you were still wide awake. Maybe you needed a warm drink before heading to bed.
Ray swore by a glass of warm milk before bed. You’d given him shit for it when he first brought it up, you thought it was juvenile, but something about holding a warm mug in your hands and talking to him about everything and nothing would always relax you. Milk, you thought idly. Another thought drifted by, the light’s on, as you approached the kitchen.
Wait. Everyone had gone to bed, right? That shouldn’t be on, you thought more actively.Crazed fan, escaped ghost, so many scenarios rushed through your mind, but you stayed silent and snuck forward, peering into the kitchen area.
Someone was in there, someone you knew well. Ray. You remembered to breathe as you stepped forward. But you froze when you heard him speak lowly to himself. You had no idea what he was saying—but you knew the language. It wasn’t one that Ray could speak.
“Oh shit, not again,” you whispered.
Your body tensed as you snuck quickly back to the bedroom. You fumbled in the dark for a flashlight before going over to shake Egon awake. He mumbled a question and you filled him in.
“Ray’s speaking in another language,” you whispered. “Not one he speaks.”“Do you know which one?” asked Egon, sitting up and reaching for his glasses. “He could just have been attempting to translate a document.”“Uh, Sumerian? Babylonian? I figured you might know. The way he said it was what made me think something’s up with him. Something paranormal.”
He nodded, understanding your implication. “Was he floating?”You paused. “No? Not when I saw him. But can you come with me? Even if he’s not, you know—““Let’s go. But quietly,” he warned you, walking towards the kitchen. You followed. “If it is possession, the spirit’s senses may be more heightened than Ray’s.”“‘Cause of the sudden reintroduction to corporeal senses, right?” you guessed.
“Or because their connection to the spirit world allows them to experience sounds and vibrations at a higher volume. But your hypothesis may be correct too.”
You shone your flashlight over Egon’s shoulder as you re-entered the kitchen. What the light revealed made your stomach drop. Ray was no longer hunched over a counter as you’d seen a few minutes ago, mumbling to himself. He was now floating a foot off the ground, his head lolling back, hands turned up towards the ceiling, and his words had become a chant that was just above a whisper.
“Shit,” you cursed. “That’s bad.”“But not too late to stop it,” Egon replied, trying to reassure you. “How quickly can you bring me a proton pack?” Ray—or the ghost using Ray like a marionette—growled and resumed chanting with his hands balled up into fists.
“Better idea: Janine has a spray bottle of slime at her desk. It’s not much but it could buy you some time. I’ll grab it, come up here and hold him off while you go get your pack.”“You want me to leave you alone with a possessed Ray?”“Well, go wake Venkman if you don’t trust me!” you stage-whispered back to him. “Or I could lure the ghost down to you with the pack and the Super Slammer. What do you think?”
“Getting Venkman is a solid idea. He won’t like it but that increases our chances of success.”“Okay, I’m going.” You rushed for a fireman’s pole and slid down it. As soon as your feet hit the ground, you ran to Janine’s desk and grabbed the putrid spray bottle before running back up the stairs. Spengler looked back at you as he flipped the lights on.
The ghost formerly known as Ray turned to the source of the noise. You stepped in front of Egon and pointed the bottle at Ray. “Hey asshole!” you called out. You heard Egon’s footsteps fade as he took off and you faced the floating body of your friend.“You will address me as Master Clerval, Champion of Spirits,” intoned the ghost, with Ray’s voice and a deeper, rumbling voice coming from his mouth. “You will rue the day your companions trapped me. I will release my brethren from that damned metal cage and we shall get our revenge.”
“Well, normally I’d see where you’re coming from,” you tried to channel Venkman, though your shaky hands and voice betrayed you, “but you’re holding my friend hostage.”“This body is necessary to complete my task.”
“I can see why you’d think that, but surely we can negotiate something. You’re not unreasonable. You just want to have your revenge on, um, who? Who are you mad at?”“All of the living souls in this city.”“Oh fuck,” you whispered. To the ghost you said, “That seems exhausting. Can’t you start with like, I don’t know, Venkman? He’s the one who put the trap down. He was so proud of that too.” You kicked yourself for throwing Venkman under the bus, but you were searching for some way to lure this thing downstairs.
The ghost tilted its head. “And do you know where this ‘Venkman’ can be found?”
“Oh yeah, of course! He’s right this way, if you’ll just follow me. Slowly. Because I don’t want to startle him.”You went as slowly as you could down the stairs, listening for the familiar hum of a proton pack. But nothing came to your attention other than the hum of the light in Slimer’s cage, where Slimer was somehow sleeping through this entire ordeal.
“Where is he? ”“Um, I could’ve sworn he was down here,” you said, which wasn’t untrue, but the face you’d come to love stared daggers at you.
“You cannot trick me, mortal. I can take any human I want and still accomplish my task. I will prove that I am—”“Shut up!” you yelled out and pulled the trigger of the spray bottle. “You’re not Ray, get out of him, you pretentious prick! No wonder the guys get so fed up with ghosts like you. You assholes die and suddenly you think you’re gods. Get outta there or I’ll spray you again.”Face drenched in slime, the ghost in Ray’s body looked down at you. It snarled like a wild, cornered animal, and you pointed the nozzle at it, closing your eyes as it flew towards you.
The bottle flew from your hands as Ray’s body slammed into you, but as you fell to the ground, he soared past you towards the wall behind Janine’s desk. Just as he turned around to address you, two streams of green passed over your head and hit him square in the chest. The ghostly voice shrieked in anger and pain as you covered your ears. You watched a pissed off red ghost depart Ray’s chest and fly around the ceiling, looking for a way out, but two capture streams stopped it in its tracks.As if someone had possessed you in that moment, you ran for the open door of Ecto-1 and grabbed a trap, running underneath the ghost and opening it. Venkman called out for you to run as you dove out of the way. You turned back around and watched Venkman and Spengler pull the entity down into the open trap. With a loud whoosh, the trap closed and all was quiet again, save for the beeping of the trap on the cold stone floor.
“That was a lot quicker than I thought it was gonna be,” declared Venkman. “What even was that thing?”Egon rattled off the ghost type and explained where it had likely come from, given that they’d already encountered and captured it. But you didn’t register it; you heard a soft groan from the floor and you rushed over to check on Ray, who’d fallen to the ground and was barely upright.
“Are you okay? Can you hear me?” you asked, your voice cracking. You huffed at your very uncool response to your friend’s de-possessed state.
Ray blinked slowly, as if waking up from a long nap. He groaned again and put a hand behind his head. He mumbled your name as he looked at you.
“Yeah, buddy, it’s me,” you nodded, welling up. “I found you in the kitchen talking in some weird language so I went and got Egon, and he went and got Venkm—“Ray knocked you over as he crushed you in a massive hug, burying his face in your shoulder. You went stiff and silent as you looked over at Peter and Egon. The two stopped talking and watched as you tried to sit up, even as Ray kept his arms firmly around you. You weren’t opposed to this—his hugs were one of your favorite things about him—but you could feel your face heat up in embarrassment.
“And now (l/n) is covered in slime,” Peter grinned as he and Egon walked over. “But better slimed than…what was that creep saying again, Egon?”“The same thing he said before we captured him the last time,” shrugged Spengler. “Revenge, living souls, any body would do. Classic megalomaniac.”
“Yeah. Slime sounds better to me. Wouldn’t you two agree?”Ray finally let go long enough to pull back, and you could see he looked exhausted but relieved. “I have no idea how to thank you, (f/n),” he told you. “I’d be halfway to Jersey by now if that ghost had stayed in there.”
“You’re not mad that I slimed you?” you asked, still welling up.
“You did this? I thought you hadn’t learned how to use our equipment yet!”“(f/n) used Janine’s emergency slime bottle as a distraction while Venkman and I prepared our packs. We’re responsible for most of the slime,” Egon elaborated. “But yes, it was (f/n) who noticed you were acting strangely, and the one who came and woke me up.”“Don’t let it go to your head,” Peter teased, nudging your shoulder with his hand. “You’re still not fit for duty.” You let out a nervous laugh and looked at Ray.
“(f/n), seriously, thank you. I kind of had this fantasy a few days ago about you getting suited up and stopping a ghost. Too bad I wasn’t awake for any of that.” He grinned excitedly at you, his eyes shining. “I bet you looked really cool.”“Not at all,” you admitted with a grimace. “I’m not a good shit-talker or decoy or anything. I just pissed the ghost off.”“And it knocked you over,” Venkman added as he took off his proton pack and brought it over to his locker.
“Gee, thanks, Peter.”“You’re welcome!” he called out. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m heading back to bed. Next time there’s a ghost, call Winston instead. I can’t have my beauty sleep interrupted again.” Venkman let out a dramatic yawn as he went back up the stairs.
“Wait, I knocked you over? Are you okay?” Ray searched your arms for any marks.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” you laughed softly and looked back up. “Thanks for getting the ghost, Egon. …Again.”“No problem,” he nodded. “I’ll have to double-check our containment grid. I hate to admit it, but Peck’s right about it being a hazard if it’s unsecured.”“We can deal with that in the morning,” insisted Ray as he yawned. “Night, Egon.”“Good night Ray, (f/n). Will you switch off the lights when you come back up?” Egon asked you. You nodded, and he went back up the stairs.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ray fretted and got up, offering a hand to you, which you took.
“Other than the slightly traumatic experience of seeing your good friend possessed by an evil ghost, and the terror of nearly getting killed by said ghost, I’m totally fine.”“(f/n), I’m so sorry this happened. I was afraid when you started spending the night here that this might happen, and I feel awful.”“Hey, look at it this way: if it happens again, I know what to do. And maybe you guys could show me how to use a proton pack before then.”“Hopefully you won’t need to, but maybe.”
Ray went oddly quiet as the two of you went up the stairs. In the low lighting from the doorway, you admired how soft he looked in his striped pajamas, his face tired but warm as he looked at you. You were still feeling the loss of contact from that hug he’d given you.
You tentatively brushed your hand against his as he reached the top step.
He hesitated a moment before grabbing your hand.
“(f/n), I need to say something before I lose my nerve.”Your heart fluttered in your chest and you tried to steady your breathing. “Go ahead.”“When I woke up from being possessed, the first thing I saw was you looking terrified and rushing over, and it hit me that that’s all I want. Not you looking terrified, that came out wrong. What I meant was that all I want is you. I want to wake up next to you in our bed, I want to make coffee for us both in the morning and drink it with you, I want to spend as much of my life with you as I can, as much as you’ll allow me to. Because I know if I lose you, I’ll never forgive myself. You’re intelligent, you make me laugh, and you’re so…you know, I think if I listed everything I like about you, we’d be here all night.” You laughed at that. “All this to say, I think there’s something here. What do you say? I know I’ve got that chapter to work on between calls, but I’d love to take you to dinner sometime. What do you say, (f/n)?”“Did you say ‘what do you say’ twice or did I imagine that?”“I think I did,” he went beet red as you grinned.
“Well, when we’ve got time, I’d love to have dinner with you. But we should head to bed.”“Yeah.”Neither of you moved from the top step of the stairwell.
“We should probably go,” you said quietly.
“We should,” he agreed. But you couldn’t stop staring at him, and you realized that he was staring at you the way he’d done for the past month, and you understood why he was so relieved that you’d saved him. He had loved you
then too, and he loved you now.
You leaned in a little, silently asking if this was okay. He did the same, and you could feel his breath on your lips. You stared at them before your gaze flickered up to his eyes. You shut your eyes and closed the gap, kissing him deeply as he pulled your body against his in another warm hug. The two of you stood there kissing for a few minutes before you both had to step back and breathe.
“No really, we need to sleep, I think I’m about to faint,” Ray told you.
“Am I really that good of a kisser?” you winked at him and he grinned like a dork, nodding at your question. “Oh, wasn’t expecting an answer to that, thank you. Hey, if it’s not too much trouble—““We can share my bed,” he answered your half-spoken question. “I don’t know if we’ll both fit though.”“We can try…”“We can try.”You managed to make room for each other on Ray’s bed, your body intertwined with his. In the haze of tiredness that fell upon you while in Ray’s arms, you managed to whisper, “I love you, Ray.”And the last thing you heard before falling asleep was a very sleepy Ray replying, “Love you too.”