"Perfection is the child of time."

                                                                                                                                                Bishop Joseph Hall

"Okay, so I don't get it," Peter Venkman muttered as Ecto-1 pulled away from the bridge, leaving the ruined dam and the isolated town of Lupusville behind them. Tonight's incident had to rank as one of the Ghostbusters' weirdest busts and they'd been lucky to escape intact from the resultant chaos when the freed werewolves who had originally owned the town had confronted the vampires who had imprisoned them in a savage battle. "We've got vampires biting werewolves and werewolves biting vampires, right? So do the vamps grow snouts and the werewolves grow fangs? Role reversal? Or do they all have both? Democracy in action." They'd seen it happening but it was still nearly impossible to believe. Peter craned his neck to gaze back in the direction of the carnage and then hastily turned around. If vampire/werewolves had managed to cross the water that now encircled the town and were in hot pursuit, he'd rather not know.

Winston Zeddemore glanced over his shoulder at Peter and Egon in the back seat of Ecto and he offered up a wry grimace. "Now there's a scary thought."

"That is why we ringed the town with water, Peter," Ray Stantz reminded them without taking his eyes from the road. "Because vampires can't cross running water." His sublime belief in the legendary solution must have comforted him.

Peter was not quite so sure. "Yeah, that'll work--at least till the hydro-electric company comes out and mends the dam. Then there'll be a bunch of really unhappy vampwolves out for our blood--and our guts and our livers. Right, Egon? Right, Egon? Egon?"

Spengler didn't respond. Peter saw that he had slumped against the passenger side window, fast asleep. "Aw, did he want his little nap?" he kidded gently. "Fighting the undead can really take a lot out of a guy. Egon? Come on, wake up. You'll get a stiff neck that way."

Ray adjusted the rear-view mirror to see and his reflected eyes widened with shock. "Peter! I don't think he's asleep," he warned. "I think he's unconscious."

Winston stiffened and muttered something profane under his breath. "He really had a lot of pain in his head when he woke up. He seemed okay, but he was hurting. In all the confusion I forgot."

Peter grabbed for Egon's pulse before Zeddemore finished speaking. The proton pack explosion! It had been Egon's pack that had exploded during the battle with the two sets of vampires in the forest, and Spengler had been closest to it, even if he'd flung it away. A damaged pack was too heavy to toss very far and there hadn't been time for the team to run away, even if they could have fought their way through the attacking vampires. All of them had been stunned by the blast, not just Egon, but Peter and Ray, left behind when Gregor's vampires had snatched Egon and Winston, were only out for a few minutes. Peter had just assumed the same for the other two. A pretty careless assumption, now that he realized it. Egon had functioned fine later in the town during the second battle between the two sects of vampires and then between the vampires and werewolves he and Winston had freed from the dungeons when they had escaped, but what if this was a delayed reaction? What if all that running around had aggravated his condition? Peter felt for a pulse. "Egon, come on, it's not nice to scare Doctor Venkman. Ray, get us to the nearest town with a hospital. Fast."

Lupusville was fairly remote, but part of that was that one reached it by a back road. Once on the main highway, it shouldn't be far. Peter settled Egon against his shoulder to keep him steady, and tried to rouse him. Concussion? Skull fracture? The last thing he should have done was run around in the middle of a crisis. Typical Egon. He wasn't the type to make a fuss when he wasn't feeling well, at least not when the team faced danger. He just did his job. Of course he could be reasonable, too, and had been known to stay home from a bust if he didn't feel well. This time, they were already on the job and the situation had been critical. No wonder he hadn't said anything. But once they were on their way, once they'd blasted the dam and stopped any possible pursuit, maybe he could finally let go. Adrenaline only carried a guy so far.

"How is he, Pete?" Winston fussed.

Ray added his concern, his shoulders tight as he maneuvered the converted hearse down the road like Richard Petty in the final lap of a close race. "Yeah, won't he wake up at all?"

"Egon, listen to me," Peter instructed urgently. "I need you to answer me." He felt the physicist's forehead for fever.

"P-Peter?" The voice was fuzzy around the edges but it held awareness.

"Egon!" the other three chorused in relief.

Egon's eyes slitted open and he squinted up dubiously at Peter. "What...happened?"

"You tell us, big guy. You passed out." Peter steadied him carefully. "You must have really bonked your head back there. There's a lump the size of a grapefruit back here." Okay, slight exaggeration, but Peter could feel it under his gently probing fingertips and he didn't like it. Egon winced against the touch, and Peter lifted his hand.

Confusion warred with doubt in the injured man's face. "Not...possible."

"Oh yeah, possible," Winston chipped in. "Egon, I remember your head was killing you when you woke up in the dungeon. But Old Gregor was doing his thing and you couldn't take it easy and give yourself some downtime. When you blabbed to him that you'd figured out he was a vampire, I thought you just got carried away. But I bet it was because you weren't thinking all that clearly, were you?"

Egon's face scrunched up. "I...don't remember. Peter, there is something I need...."

Peter settled Egon as comfortably as he could so that Egon was leaning against him and nothing was pressing against the back of his skull. "Whatever you need, good buddy, we'll get for you. We'll stop at the first hospital we come to. How far, Ray?"

"There's a town less than five miles away. Hang on, Egon, we're headed straight there."

"But, guys...." Egon struggled futilely to sit up. There was a determination in his eyes that was only partly blurred by the vagueness of his expression. If he had forgotten the incident Winston had described.... A blow to the head could cause amnesia, couldn't it?

"No way, Jose. Egon, settle down. It's gonna be okay." Peter tightened his arm around Egon's shoulders. At least Egon knew them and himself. Maybe he'd lost a little time, but he was gonna be just fine. He had to be.

Egon subsided against Peter, his face full of frustration and doubt. He was too groggy to persist, but the fact that he had tried was encouraging. Concussions were not fun. Peter had had one and he knew. He remembered feeling pretty woozy and barfing a lot when he tried to move.

"I just wanted to tell you--"

"Ah, ah, ah, Egon, no. Stay quiet. Last thing I want's for you to lose your dinner all over me."

Egon's mouth quirked. It was obvious he didn't want that, either, not that he would be so eager to spare Peter, but because he wouldn't want to do anything so undignified. "But, Peter...."

Peter pressed his finger to Egon's lips. "Ssh, it's okay. You just lie there quietly and let us take care of you. And next time your pack blows up, you duck a lot better or we'll hafta get on your case about it." Not even a decent threat, but it was too weird, too wrong, to see Egon down. Egon was supposed to come through everything intact.

Egon frowned. "Ray, try to drive...carefully," he instructed. "It isn't safe for...."

"Egon!" Peter snapped. He didn't want his friend to stress out over inconsequential things. He softened his tone immediately. "Come on, Spengs. I know you're confused and your head hurts. Just keep quiet and relax. Best thing for you."

The physicist didn't even try to relax; Peter could feel the tension that vibrated his body. Shadows in his eyes spoke of pain and some confusion, but at least he seemed fairly rational. If he didn't feel so bad, he'd resist the fussing Peter was doing, but even if he was conscious he wasn't operating on all thrusters. He'd probably lost a little time, too, or he would have remembered the incident that Winston had described. Definitely concussion. His eyes didn't look entirely focused. Peter tilted his chin up cautiously to give himself a better look; no sudden moves that might disorient his friend. Egon blinked at him dazedly, doubt and need warring in the blue eyes. He gnawed on his bottom lip.

Winston hung over the back of his seat, frowning. "Anything I can do, Pete?"

Peter jerked his chin in the direction of the mobile phone. "Call ahead. Have them ready for us."

A car came up behind them, its lights sweeping the interior of Ecto. Suddenly its horn blared like crazy and its lights flashed on and off. Ray muttered and tightened his deathgrip on the steering wheel, and Egon flinched at the sound. Even though Ray was going fast, the car sailed around them--lunatics, thought Peter as the driver gesticulated wildly at Ecto as he drove right beside them in the wrong lane. What was the jerk, a Ghostbuster groupie? Character ought to have his license revoked.

Ray flipped on the siren and speeded up. Egon flinched at the blaring sound. The car beside them matched their speed for a minute, the driver busy with his weird hand signals, then he gave a disgusted grimace and peeled away even faster than they were going. Nobody ever said Ecto could set land speed records. Now what the heck was that all about?

"You wanna cut the siren, Ray?" Peter asked. "I think it's bugging Egon."

Ray shut it off immediately.

Ignoring the incident with the other car, Winston spoke into the mobile phone, explaining that they were coming in with an injured man. "Give me directions to the hospital in Pineville," he requested. "We'll go straight there."

He listened, the phone scrunched up under his chin as he jotted down the directions on a small note pad. "Got it. Yeah, thanks. That would be great." He hung up. "A state trooper will meet us in another mile or so to give us an escort in. Hang on, Egon, we'll get you to the hospital fast."

"I really...am not...that bad," Egon objected. "But we need to stop--"

"We're not stopping," Ray insisted. "Come on, Egon, you blacked out. You don't take chances with head injuries. We've gotta make sure you're okay."

"But Leda--" Egon objected.

"Hey, that little girl back in Lupusville." Ray's voice filled with horror. "I forgot all about her. Gosh, we just left her back there. That's terrible. Don't worry, Egon, we'll take care of her as soon as you're safe. I promise."

"You got it, big guy," Winston agreed. "After she helped us the way she did, least we can do. We'll take care of her, you've got my word on it."

Egon finally allowed himself to relax against Peter's shoulder. So that was what had been bugging him. He wasn't unconscious again; his eyes were half open, but his head must be hurting because he was squinting fuzzily up at Peter. "She tried to save me, Peter." His voice was a mere thread. "When a vampire attacked me...she jumped on its back."

"Got a little groupie there?" Peter teased gently. He felt bad about the child, but there'd been so much going on that busting out of Lupusville had seemed the only thing to do. Besides, what if she was a mini-vampire? Just because she hadn't spouted wings and fangs didn't mean she wasn't one. Maybe she just wasn't old enough for it to take affect. Wasn't she Gregor's servant? Maybe she was a child of the werewolves instead and tended to bay at the moon.

Nah, couldn't be. She'd been running around out there helping Egon and Winston out of their cell and bringing them Winston's pack with the full moon shining brightly overhead. She'd have spouted fur for sure if she'd been a werewolf. She'd survived among the vampires until now. Peter hoped she'd known enough to go for cover and hide out till the Ghostbusters could return for her. They could haul her out of there when the sun rose; the vampires would be all cozy in their coffins, and the werewolves, too, now that they were hybrids. Leda should be safe. Peter hoped. He'd hate to have to break it to Egon that something had happened to the girl.

"Not...a groupie," Egon disagreed. "Ray, please drive carefully."

"I am being careful," Ray proclaimed mendaciously. "Really, Egon. It's okay."

The state trooper waited for them on the shoulder. When he saw them coming, he pulled out ahead of them and cranked up his siren and roof lights. They raced into Pineville without any further problems with deranged motorists. Probably because no one else could keep up with them.

The hospital in Pineville wasn't very big but it was well prepared, with an orderly with a gurney and a nurse waiting for them at the emergency room entrance. They made quick work of placing Egon on the gurney and wheeled him into the hospital. A few questions from the young doctor who met them just inside elicited that all the Ghostbusters had been unconscious, although Peter and Ray had only been out momentarily, long enough for Gregor's vampires to snatch Egon and Winston and take off. So all of them submitted to examinations, although each man would rather have been in there with Egon to make sure he was okay. Ray finished first and went to park Ecto, and Peter came out next with a clean bill of health and let himself be dragged off to the desk to fill out the necessary paperwork. He had just finished when Winston appeared.

"You okay, Zed?"

"Yeah, although I've got some bruises I didn't realize I had. They say I don't have any signs of concussion. I woke up before Egon did but not that long before, so they kind of want me to stick around for a while, even if they're not admitting me, just to be sure. Where's Ray?"

"Went out to park Ecto. Any word of Egon?"

"He's awake. He was in the next cubicle. He's still a little groggy, I think--and resenting the fact. They think he might not remember everything that happened, but the doc said that was natural and he might get it back as he heals. Even if not, he's probably only lost an hour at most. He hates that. You know how he likes to be in control all the time? But they think he'll get more alert soon. They'll probably keep him overnight."

Ray came back with a State Trooper at his side, and there was something about the occultist's expression that sent a niggle of alarm up Peter's spine. That didn't look good. Stantz cast a quick glance around for Egon and his brow furrowed when he realized the physicist wasn't there. "Guys, something really weird!" he blurted out.

"After everything that's already happened tonight, how weird can it be?" Winston muttered. Peter could have told him never to ask a question like that. For the Ghostbusters, weird was a constant state.

"Pretty weird," Ray replied. "It's kind of spooky, really. Remember that guy that honked at us on the highway?"

"The deranged groupie?" Peter asked.

"He wasn't a groupie, Peter. He called the Highway Patrol and reported us. This is Officer Meldon."

"Hey," the trooper said in greeting. "Yeah, we got a call that the Ghostbusters vehicle was driving too fast and that there was a child sitting on the back bumper."

"Say what?" Winston's brow furrowed, then his mouth fell open. "Omigod. Leda."

Meldon's whole demeanor changed. "You knew there was a child hanging on your back bumper?" he demanded coldly. Peter expected him to produce handcuffs and haul them all off to jail.

"Never thought of it." Winston exchanged a quick glance with Peter and Ray. "Egon didn't want to leave her back there in Lupusville. He was talking about her in the car after he woke up."

"Lupusville? Man, that is the weirdest place I ever saw," muttered Meldon. "Been out there once or twice. Never mind that. You allowed a child to ride on the outside of your vehicle?"

"We didn't know anything about that, officer," Peter said quickly. "Egon--he's the one that befriended her--is a patient here. He's got a concussion. He passed out in the car, that's why we were driving so fast. He's got a little memory loss, too, they say. If he was confused from being knocked out--if he knew she was there, maybe he wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe he even forgot about her for a while. He couldn't have been on top of things." Talk about an understatement. All of a sudden Egon's urgent need to speak hit him like a board across the gut. Egon had tried to tell them, and they hadn't realized what he was saying. Oh, shit!

"Obviously." Meldon's frown didn't ease, but Peter's words must have made sense to him. Peter just wished they made sense to him. He couldn't imagine Egon allowing them to drive away with a little girl sitting on the back bumper of Ecto. She could so easily have been thrown from the car and killed. If Egon wanted to remove her from a dangerous situation, to put her in the hands of Human Services, to make sure she was safe, he'd have told the rest of them and they'd have taken her in the car, at least from the point when they'd blasted the dam. Could it be he didn't know she was there? No, he'd known. He'd said they hadn't come away empty-handed or something like that, right before he passed out. Peter's brow crinkled. Was it the concussion, screwing up his memory and his thinking? What if he was hurt worse than they had thought...?

"But that's not the worst, Peter." Ray was still frowning. "I met Officer Meldon while I was parking Ecto and we took a look. Leda wasn't there--but there were really deep claw marks all along the back bumper."

Peter stared at him in disbelief. "Claw marks?! You think one of the werewolves got her?" he blurted, then he shook his head as he recalled his earlier speculation. "No, what am I saying? She was Gregor's servant. Meant she probably wasn't a vampire. But Lupusville belonged to the werewolves first before Gregor and his little fanged friends showed up and took over. She might be a werewolf instead."

"The moon was full and she didn't change over," Winston reminded him. "Remember? She helped us and she was outside running around without a trace of extra hair."

"Okay, whoa, slow down." Meldon held up an arresting hand. His jaw tightened. "What's all this vampire and werewolf crap?"

"We are the Ghostbusters, officer," Ray reminded him. He hesitated. "You said Lupusville was weird. That's because it was founded by a group of werewolves. They chose it because it was remote, a place where they could live their lives without having to hide what they were. The vampires came along and took over later. They wanted something remote and isolated, too, and they didn't care who they had to trash to get it. Tonight the two sides had a power struggle and we barely got out with our lives."

The trooper tapped his forehead. "You're crazy." Enough doubt rang in his voice to suggest there might have been a few unexplained incidents over the years. "You have to be," he added desperately. "There's no such thing as vampires and werewolves."

"We're the Ghostbusters, Jack," Peter reminded him. "We see bizarre stuff like this all the time. Real, every bit of it, I give you my word. 'Course a lot of the claims we get are misinterpretations and even a few outright hoaxes. Not every story is real. But this one is." He had learned at his dad's knee to project utter sincerity, and he did that now. Meldon made a wry face, hanging on the border between doubt and acceptance. He so didn't want to believe it.

"There used to be legends of werewolves hereabouts." His words emerged slowly and doubtfully. "When I was little, folks even warned us not to go in the woods over by Lupusville when the moon was full. Said it was called that because it was a werewolf town. We all bought into it when we were kids. Far as I know, nobody ever got clawed by a wolf. Used to be a few cattle mutilations, years back...." His brow wrinkled as he struggled to remember. "That hasn't happened lately, I don't think. But there are even weirder stories now. Giant flying bats, things like that." He shook his head abruptly. "Nah. Can't be. What's the deal with this kid, then?"

"There was a little girl in the town," Ray explained. "Leda. I don't know her last name. She was...was kind of sweet on Egon. When everything was going wrong and we took off, she must have hitched a ride on the back of the car. We didn't even know she was back there."

"And she spouted claws to hold on better? What about this Egon?" He looked past them. "Did he know she was there? Encourage her to stow away?"

"Egon's got a concussion," Winston put in quickly. "He was pretty well out of it. Maybe he just wasn't thinking right." The corners of his mouth turned down. "You can't fault the guy for screwing up when he has a head injury, assuming he knew she was there in the first place. Maybe he thought she was hiding in the back of Ecto. Maybe he just couldn't remember. He's pretty vague about everything that happened."

No, he'd known, Peter realized. At least he'd suspected. He'd kept trying to get Ray to slow down and he'd mentioned Leda, but the guys had overruled him, shouted him down, thinking he wanted them to go back for her. Peter had been more concerned with calming him down and keeping him quiet than with listening to what he was trying so hard to say. Of course if Egon had been thinking clearly, he'd have brought Leda into the car when they'd stopped to blast the dam, but he couldn't have been. He'd tried his best, but.... Peter shivered involuntarily. Egon was always so logical and rational. He'd never have risked the girl's life like that if he'd been okay. Maybe he had brain damage?

"I'm going to see how Egon is," Peter said flatly and wheeled away. The others fell into step with him. He could feel Ray and Winston's disquiet as clearly as his own, and he could tell that Meldon had picked up on it. The guy was only doing his job but if he got on Egon's case for it, Peter wouldn't stand for it. Egon was just in pain and momentarily disoriented and he'd lost a little time. Had to be. He'd be fine in the morning. Wouldn't he?

A doctor met them, a different man than the one who had first greeted them, a stocky character in his mid-forties with hair the exact color of rust and a bald spot on top that would have made him look like a monk but for the all-too-worldly twinkle in his big blue eyes. That twinkle heartened Peter but he didn't relax at the sight of it. Not yet. "Gentlemen. I'm Doctor Jackson. I was looking for you."

"How's Egon?" demanded Ray bluntly.

"I think he's going to be fine, although he won't enjoy the next few days very much. You were right; he definitely has a concussion. It's not severe enough to alarm us much, but we'll keep him tonight and monitor him tomorrow. If he bounces back, we'll probably discharge him tomorrow afternoon, but possibly we'll keep him one more day. He told me something of what happened although he is understandably vague and has lost enough of it that he isn't quite making sense, and it sounds like he may have aggravated his condition somewhat by running around, er, busting. That is not recommended behavior following a hard blow to the head."

"We didn't know how badly he was hurt," Ray admitted shamefacedly. "We should have noticed."

"From the little he was able to recall, I'd have been surprised if you'd have noticed much less than gaping wounds." The doctor didn't even hesitate to believe that the guys had been in a dangerous situation. "Adrenaline steps in and compensates in a crisis. Once the emergency was past and he didn't have to go on, he simply stopped. I imagine it was extremely frightening to you when he collapsed. But I think he'll be just fine."

"Can we see him?" asked Winston.

"I'd rather you let him sleep," Doctor Jackson replied. "But he's told me a strange story and it's worrying him greatly. I'm not sure how much of it is a result of his natural confusion and how much is true, but I think he'll settle down for the night more easily if he can tell it to you first. One of you." He studied their faces. "You," he said, settling on Peter. He glanced past the Ghostbusters at Meldon. "Hello, Joe. Have you heard about this?"

"Missing kid?" Meldon asked. "Yeah. Strange story, Frank. He up to questioning?"

"I wouldn't advise it until tomorrow. From what he's told me, he was confused from the head injury and made a bad judgment call, or even forgot what he had arranged until it was too late. You can get it from Doctor Venkman afterwards and clear it up in the morning. Sounds like a rotten deal all the way around, but I don't need my patient upset tonight."

Meldon shrugged. "I'll put out an APB on the kid. One of you can give me her description." He turned to Winston and Ray, and Peter went with Doctor Jackson before he could change his mind.

Egon had been settled in a room, but he wasn't sleeping. Bruises had started to darken here and there on his face and on the closest arm to the door, and his eyes were clouded. His glasses lay on the bed's tray table. From the dimness of the room, he must have been sensitive to the light. At Peter's arrival he turned his head and squinted nearsightedly at his visitor, and when he recognized Peter, relief flashed across his face. "Peter, thank god. You have to help me. I've made a grave error," he admitted.

Peter held up his hands to stop the flow of words. "Nah, you didn't, Spengs. Take it easy. You got bonked on the head too hard to know what you were doing. By the time we got out of Lupusville, it caught up on you, that's all. You tried to warn us in the car, after you revived, but we weren't listening. I kept shutting you up every time you tried to tell us. If anything, I screwed up, not you. You did everything you could, Egon."

"Not enough. If anything has happened to that little girl...." Egon's face twisted bitterly. Peter felt a surge of panic run through him. He couldn't remember seeing that combination of negative emotions on Egon's face before. This was going to be a bad one. He'd have gladly taken some of the heat if it would ease the torment in his friend's eyes.

Peter grabbed up Spengler's hand in both of his own and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Come on, big guy, it's not your fault. You were half out of it and your memory has got holes in it as big as Cleveland. We should have listened to you in the car--I should have listened to you--but we were too worried about you to realize where you were going. Besides...." He hesitated. "I think there's a new twist that you didn't know about. You wanted to help Leda--she'd helped you, and she was Gregor's servant and pretty much a prisoner there from what Winston said."

"Yes, which was why I wanted to remove her from that environment. I know foster care is not always ideal, but it would certainly be better than what she had to endure as little more than a slave to vampires. She might even have been adopted into a loving family." And that was a pretty good statement from a man who had been so disoriented only a short while earlier. If not for the self-loathing on Egon's face, Peter would have relaxed at the flow of words.

"Yeah, you had all the right intentions, Egon."

"Right intentions don't excuse my colossal blunder. She isn't here. The doctor would have told me if she'd been admitted or if you guys had her. She must have been thrown from the car. She's dead, isn't she?" Egon scrunched his eyes shut. His mouth twisted in a hard, unforgiving line that made Peter wince. Egon was not prepared to absolve himself.

"She's not here, no, but the state troopers are looking for her now. Egon, listen to me. You didn't know the whole story. None of us did."

Egon didn't open his eyes. The lines of his face were set stubbornly against absolution. Peter remembered Leda jumping onto the back of a vampire that was attacking Egon during the first battle. She had fought to save his life, risked herself for him, trusted him. Now Egon believed he had caused her death. Peter's stomach twisted, and he tightened his grip on his friend's hand. "Egon, there were honking big claw marks all over the back bumper of Ecto. Gregor's people had the local werewolves locked up in the cellar. Where do you think he got servants, put an ad in the local paper? Betcha dollars to doughnuts he just went downstairs and pulled somebody out. Put her on her best behavior with a threat to her family if she didn't do what he said."

Startled out of his self-reproach Egon's eyes shot open and he stared at Peter in blank disbelief. "You're implying that Leda was a werewolf?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, we don't know for sure, but she could be. Means she's probably okay, just a little furry right now."

The momentary hope that had flared in Egon's eyes died. Maybe having Leda transform was a better option than the image of her broken body lying unfound in a ditch that must dominate his imagination. The werewolf would be more agile and likely to come away without being killed; it might even have been able to use its claws to hold on until Ecto slowed when they arrived in town. But Egon shook his head. That movement made him close his eyes again, but that was from dizziness, not from the abject despair Peter had seen in his face earlier. "The moon was full, Peter. She was out in it bringing us a proton pack, helping us out of the cell, and she hadn't transformed. I saw her jump onto the back bumper when we left the town and she was human, not a lycanthrope. I meant us to stop when we were safe out of the town and help her into the car. But...."

"But you're hurt," Peter reminded him. "Not even the great brain is at one hundred percent when it gets whacked with a chunk of exploding pack. You tried to tell us and you kept trying. We were too stupid to listen and you were too out of it to make it clear what you wanted. When we said we'd take care of her, you took us at our word. Don't fault yourself for something you couldn't have controlled."

"She wasn't a werewolf, Peter, or she would have transformed earlier. If there were claw marks on the back bumper, that implies something got her, one of the werewolves who followed us, perhaps, who didn't get transformed by a vampire." He pulled his hand out of Peter's grip--denying himself the comfort?--and massaged his temples. Even if he wasn't thinking of the pain, it was still with him. Peter ached to help him, but he didn't know how. Nothing he was saying had any effect.

"Maybe she's too young to transform as a general rule," Peter theorized frantically. "Come on, Egon, we don't know. All I know is that you meant to help her, and that says a lot for you. You were already concussed and you didn't get it quite right."

"Small consolation if she's dead." Egon's eyes were squeezed so tightly shut it must add new layers to his headache. A tear glittered in the corner of one eye. At the sight of it, Peter bit down hard enough on his bottom lip to draw blood.

"Nobody says she's dead, Egon. She was still hanging on when that car went by honking like crazy, and we were on the highway then, already going pretty fast. Maybe she transformed because she was scared and the fear pushed her into it. Premature transformation. Maybe congenital werewolves don't get fuzzy until puberty." He knew he was spouting nonsense only to keep Egon from turning such loathing upon himself.

Egon ventured a cautious look at him. The tear slid free and rolled down toward his ear. Peter tried hard not to wince. "You think the stresses of the evening and the fear that she might fall pushed her into it early?" Then his mouth twisted. "No, you're simply trying to comfort me. We have no proof that such a thing could happen."

"Well, we don't have any proof it couldn't. We've got claw marks where she was sitting, and we don't have her."

"Peter, if she is dead, I will never be able to forgive myself."

Peter grabbed his hand again and wouldn't let go when Egon tried to tug it free. "Yes, you will. I don't think she's dead, and even if she is, it's not your fault. Would it be mine if I'd had a head injury and made a bad call as a result?" He was sorry for the words 'bad call' as soon as he spoke them. "Come on, Egon, you're scaring me here. You know you wouldn't blame me, or Ray, or Winston, if this had been different. You know that. So it's not reasonable to blame yourself. Besides, we didn't listen to you in the car. You think we don't have a responsibility here, too?"

Egon met Peter's eyes, and the desolation in the blue depths frightened Peter more than the vampires had. "If she is dead, Peter, might have beens and excuses will not absolve me." He turned his face away.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Peter had never felt at such a loss. He'd always been able to get through to Egon when no one else could, but he wasn't even making a dent now. "I'll absolve you, Egon. And so would Leda."

"Don't, Peter. Please don't."

"I have to. I can't let you do this to yourself. Egon, you're hurt. You're not up to par. Tell you what, I'm gonna sit here with you. I'll just curl up in the chair and I'll stay all night. They'll probably come in and wake you up every so often anyway, so what's the harm if I'm here? I'll stick with you, Egon. So will Ray and Winston--in every way that matters. You know that."

Egon's eyes glistened too brightly. Peter knew it was a combination of the injury--everybody was a little more vulnerable when he was hurt and in pain--and what might have happened. He just wasn't used to seeing Egon like this, and it scared the hell out of him. There had to be a solution that would let Egon know it was okay. But the only absolution Egon would allow himself to accept was a living, breathing Leda. If she wasn't a werewolf, she was probably dead, and it wasn't just Egon who would take the blame. In the car, Egon had tried to warn them about Leda, and they hadn't listened. They'd been too worried about him after he'd passed out to listen. They'd share the blame with Egon if there were criminal repercussions. Peter hadn't even thought of that till now; he'd been too worried about Egon's reaction to look past it to future consequences, but Egon wouldn't have to take this on his own.

"You don't have to stay." Peter heard the desperate longing in Egon's voice, but he also heard the steadfast refusal to accept the solace Peter offered.

"Yes," he said irrefutably. "I have to, Egon. They'll have to drag me out to get rid of me. You'd stand by me if I needed it. You think I'm gonna do less for you?"

"I don't deserve it."

"Egon, we've got ten years of history here. There's nobody in the universe who deserves it more."

A couple more tears spilled over, and Egon put up his free hand distractedly and brushed at them. Peter ached to help him, but all he could do was be here. "It's okay, Egon," he soothed. He curled both fingers around Egon's hand and held it against his chest. "It's gonna be okay."

Egon was too weak to resist the consolation. He closed his eyes again and this time he drifted off into a light, restless sleep. Peter stuck out his foot and tried to yank the chair over without loosening his grip, but he kept missing, and he wouldn't let go for anything, even if he had to stand beside the bed all night. Someone came in behind him and moved the chair closer.

"You can stay, Doctor Venkman." It was Doctor Jackson. "I heard it all. He'll need you to stay. He really will be all right, but he's bound to have been disoriented after the injury. I'll reassure him in the morning, at which time I pray to god they've found that little girl in one piece."

"Amen," Peter said fervently. "Doc, tell Ray and Winston they have to find her. Tell 'em I can't leave Egon."

"I will. But you've been unconscious yourself. I want you to try to sleep in that chair. I think you'll find you can."

Peter shook his head so hard that the stubborn lock of hair on his forehead bobbed. "No way, doc. I have to be awake in case he needs me."

Jackson measured Peter with his eyes. "I guarantee that the slightest movement from him will have you wide awake. It's okay. Just stay here and hang on, and get what rest you can. It's not my usual course of treatment but, under the circumstances, I think it's best for Doctor Spengler." He patted Peter on the shoulder and went out again.

Peter settled himself carefully in the chair without letting go. Then, with Egon's hand against his heart, he prepared himself for a long, lonely vigil.

Ray saw the doctor returning without Peter, and something in the physician's face sent a trickle of uneasiness through him. "Where's Peter? Is Egon worse?" At the questions, Winston fell into place at Ray's side.

"No, he's not worse," the doctor said. "But he's blaming himself for the child's disappearance."

A giant invisible fist socked Ray in the stomach. "But Egon was hurt," he blurted. "He was kind of disoriented and he couldn't remember everything that happened. He couldn't help it. It's not his fault."

"We know that," the doctor agreed. "But Doctor Spengler doesn't, not yet. Doctor Venkman was so good with him that I decided it would be better for Doctor Spengler's mental well-being to have him stay with him through the night. He can nap in the chair and be there if Doctor Spengler needs him. When he starts to feel better, he'll understand that his thinking processes were a little disordered by the blow to the head and that he can't be blamed."

"Egon measures himself by his thinking processes." The corners of Winston's mouth turned down. "He's the smartest one of us--at least half the time, we get out of major crises because Egon thinks of a solution way over the heads of the rest of us. His intellect is how he rates his worth." The uneasiness in his voice added to Ray's distress. This was so bad.

"It's not how the rest of you value him," Jackson consoled them. "Doctor Venkman had a very good way with him. I'm praying that poor child will be found safe and well, but even if that turns out badly, I'll be willing to speak for Doctor Spengler. He's suffered considerable disorientation. A lesser man would probably have become too confused to function at all."

Ray exchanged a sad glance with Winston. "What can we do to help?"

"See if you can use your Ghostbuster equipment to locate that child," Jackson instructed. "Ordinarily, I'd tell you to rest yourselves, especially you, Mister Zeddemore, since you were unconscious longer than you, Doctor Stantz. Let me give you another quick once-over and make sure you're okay, and then go out there and retrace your route. Stay in touch with me. I'm told there's a mobile phone in your vehicle. Doctor Stantz, I want you to keep an eye on Mister Zeddemore and bring him back immediately if he shows any symptoms of distress. You do the driving. You can coordinate with the state troopers. Find that child."

"And if she's a werewolf?" Winston asked. He arched a brow at Ray. Meldon had been so disbelieving that the two men expected it from everyone here, even if their rejection of the possibility was based on sheer denial.

Jackson heaved a sigh but it wasn't a skeptical one. "I believe in what you do, gentlemen. I know it's real. I once met one of the original residents of Lupusville--on the night of the full moon. Someday, perhaps, I'll tell you about it. He didn't harm me and he could have done so. I never told anyone what I'd seen until now, but I do know it's real. I never expected to have one of them as a patient. Perhaps the transformations heal them more quickly; I don't know. But I have to hope that child is one of them. She'll stand a lot better chance of survival that way."

"Gosh, I hope so, too," Ray replied. "Although I don't know what will happen to her then."

"We'll figure something out," Winston agreed and went off with Jackson to an examining room.

While he waited, Ray ventured along to Egon's room and hesitated in the doorway. Egon looked like he was sleeping, but it was a restless sleep and, even in repose, his face was twisted in distress. Peter sat beside him, practically vibrating with tension like the surface of a drum, his fingers curled around Egon's hand, talking to him softly.

"It's okay, Egon. We'll take care of things for you. It's not your fault. It's gonna be okay."

"Peter?"

Venkman's head came up and for a second, Ray saw fear and distress on his face; he hadn't had an easy time of it. He smoothed it over in an instant; it was his burden and he meant to carry it without complaint. Ray had seen that look before and he wished he could lighten the load. Just wanting to share it would be enough. Peter would see that in his eyes.

Peter did. Some of the weight eased off his shoulders at the sight of his friend and the corners of his mouth lifted for a second. "Ray? Any news?"

"Not yet. Winston and I are going out to retrace our route and look for Leda. I'll set a P.K.E. meter to match some of those readings we got there at the end. If she's out there and she's a werewolf, I think we can track her. Otherwise, we'll cover every inch of road from the time that guy honked at us. We know she was still on the bumper then." He glanced down at Egon. "How is he?"

"Hating himself," Peter said softly. "I don't know what he's gonna do if she's dead."

The doctor had implied that, but hearing it from Peter hit even harder. "He couldn't help it." Ray protested.

"I know that, Ray. You know that. Everybody knows that but Egon. I'm afraid that, if she's dead, he...won't be able to keep on busting."

Ray's heart tried to jump into his throat. "But he can't--" he began, then he cut himself off. Egon had an incredible sense of responsibility. Of all of them, he was the one who had always accepted the fact that their work might call upon them to sacrifice themselves in the name of humanity. They all knew that and had come to terms with the possibility, but it was such a part of what Egon was. Every time that particular issue had come up, Egon had been the one who had vocalized it. The rest of them had always gone along with him and never hesitated, but Egon lived and breathed it. Ray was sometimes inclined to guilt, but Egon didn't see it as guilt but as blame. A subtle difference, but a real one. He wouldn't wallow in guilt; he'd simply accept that he had failed, and it would get at him where he lived. "But we have to do something."

"You called it, Ray."

"Whatever we do, we stand by him."

"Goes without saying." Peter's loyalty to his friends was of such an order that he often flung himself into danger simply to keep them out of it. He didn't necessarily set out to take crazy risks, but he was always in the lead on a dangerous bust, assigning tasks that way. If pressed, he'd claim to want the fame, glory, and headlines, but Ray knew it was more. If Leda died, Egon would hold himself at fault and Peter would exhaust himself in a never-ending struggle to help him heal.

They'd been so glib at the dam. Just blast it and seal in the vampires. Right. As if the hydro-electric company wouldn't come out and fix it soon as possible. And then all those hybrid creatures would be loose out there endangering humanity. The Ghostbusters hadn't handled this well at all. Circling the town with water had been Ray's idea, based on the vampire legend that the undead couldn't cross running water. What if the legends were wrong? What if the werewolf element allowed them to do it? What if they were out there at liberty, creeping up on Pineville, ready to prey upon humanity?

Peter's eyes narrowed. "Ray. Don't you dare pull a guilt number on me now. We did what we thought was right. We tried." He didn't look any happier than Ray did.

"I know, but...."

"Go on out there and look for her, Ray. Doing something is the best solution. I'll watch out for Egon." He ran his thumb across the back of Egon's hand. Egon's restlessness eased fractionally.

"You okay here?" Ray asked.

"I can handle it." But doubt flashed in Peter's eyes.

Ray wished he could give both men reassuring hugs, but he didn't think that would do any good. The only way to fix this was to put things right. If Leda was dead, it would take Egon time to come to terms with it, and Peter was the best of them to start the healing process. But it might not have to come to that. So he went up behind Peter and put his hands on his shoulders. "We'll find her," he vowed. One way or another.

Peter swivelled in his chair and offered up a blazing smile before he turned back to Egon. "I know, Tex," he said softly. "Thanks." And Ray knew it wasn't simply for his promise to search.

"Well, gosh, Peter, we have to stick together."

"Now more than ever," Peter agreed.

Ray squeezed again and let go, then he turned and hurried from the room. He had a miracle to produce.

The roads were dark and desolate and the night was alive with restless stirrings. The two activated meters chattered softly, warning Ray and Winston of spooky things in the night. The readings were faint, distorted, and they didn't match either the vampire or werewolf readings he'd taken back at Lupusville. Winston held both meters and read off what they detected while Ray drove slowly. Ecto had a spotlight mounted on the roof along with all their armament, and he'd directed it into the ditch on the right side of the road. A state trooper drove beside them in the wrong lane, lights flashing to alert oncoming motorists, doing the same thing on the left side. So far, they'd found nothing. No small, broken body, no obvious evidence of a fall. All of them knew that she might have staggered away from the road before she collapsed or that the undergrowth could have concealed her. She could be lying just out of range. A daylight search by helicopter would begin first light, but that might be too late. Getting a victim with massive injuries to a trauma center quickly was often the only way to save a life. They were well past that deadline now.

The claw marks on the back bumper gave Ray the only hope he had for Leda's safety. If she had indeed transformed into a werewolf and used the claws to hang on, she might have jumped free when they'd arrived in Pineville and slowed down. She might be just fine--and a werewolf. The more Ray thought about it, the more convinced he was that Leda must have belonged to the werewolves. If she had been a local child kidnapped by Gregor, there would have been an outcry and a massive search. With the suspicion of Lupusville and the legends that must have arisen among the locals, it would probably have been the first place searched. The werewolves, locked away by the vampires, would have been unable to put in a complaint to the local law enforcement officials if one of their children was taken. Afraid of Gregor and hesitant to take risks, Leda had overlooked her fear to help Egon. Ray would far rather have her a werewolf than dead, even if it meant it would be hard to place her afterward.

"I'm just not getting anything specific," Winston muttered disgustedly. "Just these weird diffusion readings."

"Yeah, I know. But you know what else? I think the water isn't confining them anymore."

"Say what?" Winston's voice was too loud. "You're kidding me, right?"

"I wish I were. I think the part of them that turned into werewolves made it possible for them to cross the running water after all."

"So we have to fight all of 'em, is that what you're saying?" Winston's whole body tensed up.

"That's what I can't figure out," Ray replied. "These readings aren't showing a large body of whatever they are, setting off to take out Pineville or chase us. They're scattered in all different directions. What do you think that means?"

"That they don't have a clue what to do about their transformation? That they still can't get along with each other? That they're hightailing it out of Dodge before we come back with the National Guard?"

Ray liked the last option best, but it was too easy. Gregor's vampires might have set off for parts unknown. The other vamps and werewolves might have come to an accommodation, but it was hard to say. They had to be all discombobulated. In the morning, the Ghostbusters would have to head out there and take readings from the bridge and see what he could figure out. Surely all of them hadn't transformed. Some of them might have fled or avoided the fight. The Ghostbusters couldn't leave this undone, even if it meant they went out there at less than full strength. Egon wouldn't be up to it. The doctor wouldn't even discharge him till afternoon, if then. If he kept on blaming himself for Leda and stressing out over it, the doctor might choose to keep him another night. But the rest of them had to find out what had happened. If they went in daylight, maybe the vampires--and the transformed werewolves--would all be sleeping in their coffins. He hoped so. But maybe they didn't need to do that any more, either. They could cross running water now. Ray wished he knew more about vampires and werewolves, enough to sort through the myths to the reality. None of them had really believed in vampires and werewolves before they'd come to Lupusville. How much of Ray's so-called specialized knowledge was simply Hollywood hype?

When he explained his thoughts to Winston, the two of them fell silent again. Short of finding Leda, they couldn't do a thing tonight except keep taking readings and be on the alert for an attack by the vampwolves, or whatever they were now.

Even though they drove up and down the road for hours, they found no trace of one lost little girl who might or might not have developed a case of acute hairiness.

In the wee hours of the morning, Ray pointed Ecto back to Pineville, dreading the story they'd have to tell Egon.

Peter dozed and woke, dozed and woke, all through the night. Periodically, nurses came in and took Egon's vital signs, woke him, and questioned him to test the state of his alertness. Egon always came awake reluctantly, not out of a physical problem that alarmed the staff but out of a dread of bad news. Each time, he looked for Peter first and he would relax at the sight of Venkman, sitting determinedly beside the bed. Then he would judge from Peter's face that there was no news and withdraw into himself. He answered the nurses' questions--his name, the date, who was president--briefly and without interest and closed his eyes again. The nurses always shared alarmed looks with Peter before they stole away.

Just before dawn, another nurse tiptoed in and went through the routine. When she departed, Egon didn't close his eyes the way he had all the other times. Instead he turned his gaze on Peter. "Still no word?"

"None. Egon, I've gotta say, no news might be good news. If--if it had gone wrong, I think they'd have found her by now. She might have simply gone away."

"I think she would have come to find out how I am," Egon replied stiffly. He was still cold and rigid and there was no forgiveness in his voice.

"I bet the hospital has a rule about kids visiting, let alone werewolves."

"It's not a joke," Egon snapped at him.

"No, I know it's not. But you're not Superman, either, Egon. You were hurt. You weren't thinking right."

"That's no excuse." He avoided Peter's eyes.

"Yeah, right. It must be really tough to be as perfect as you, Egon, and never make mistakes even when you're practically unconscious. Tough act to follow."

Egon's eyes flashed with sudden heat. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it? Isn't that what this is about? You screwing up for the first time since the dawn of man and not being able to accept that you're not perfect?" Peter knew he was coming down hard on Egon, maybe too hard, but he had to get through to Spengler, had to say something that would shock him into listening. "Okay, Egon, this is a really lousy thing to happen. We all know that. But you didn't mean it to happen."

"That's no consolation, Peter, not to me, and not to Leda." He drew in a great, shuddering breath. "What am I going to do?" he whispered.

Peter tightened his grip on Egon's hand. "We are going to get through this together, the way we got through it when Watt possessed me, the way the rest of us got through it when you got sucked into the Netherworld. By sticking together and helping each other. It's the only thing that works." He caught his own breath. "You taught me that, way back at Columbia. You showed me I could trust you--and that I could take that and run with it and trust other people. If I could learn that, then you had to understand it in order to convince me. Means you have to trust us to stick by you and get you through this." When Egon hesitated, Peter stared at him head on. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life, Peter." Not the slightest hesitation.

"Then believe me when I say you haven't done the unforgivable here. No matter how it turns out, Ray and Winston and I are here for you. We're your friends and nothing can change that. I know how crummy you feel--"

"I hardly think you do." The coldness in his voice was deliberate, not to fault Peter, but to carefully distance himself from the possibility of absolution.

"Well, I do." Peter grimaced. "When little Kenny had the EAE, that gizmo that was gonna blow sky high and scatter pieces of him all over Manhattan, I think I probably felt just like you do now. He thought I was a hero, Egon. He acted like it was such a rush that I paid attention to him. I liked the kid, but I got off on it, too. I meant to help him out and befriend him just like you with Leda, not risk his life, but I did risk it, and I didn't even have a concussion as an excuse. I lucked out. We don't know yet that you haven't lucked out, too. I screwed up without an excuse and gave Kenny the EAE out of stupidity, and you were steamed at me, but you never once gave up on me for it. You didn't screw up this time. You couldn't help what happened."

Egon stared unseeingly at the window, where the first pale traces of the dawnlight brightened the eastern sky. "I could have told you how unwell I felt."

"Sure, right in the middle of a major bust when Ray and I had been missing and you didn't know what was going on until everything went sky high? Cut yourself a little slack. You can go nuts taking it on like this."

"I can't bear it, Peter."

"I know," Peter said softly. "I know, Egon. But you don't have to bear it all alone, and that's a promise from Doctor Venkman." He leaned down and gave Egon an encouraging hug, and he was encouraged when Egon grabbed him and squeezed so tightly he forced air from Peter's lungs. What did breathing matter when he could help his friend?

"He...isn't dead?"

The timid, doubtful voice from the doorway made Peter jerk to attention, and it brought the dawn of a relief too fierce to endure onto Egon's face. The physicist jerked as if he'd been sucker punched and turned his face hopefully toward the small voice.

Leda stood in the doorway. She was wearing a doctor's white jacket, carefully buttoned up, that hung nearly to her ankles and the kind of slippers doctors wore over their shoes in the operating room on her feet. She must have raided a supply closet to create her current fashion statement. Her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, she was trembling, and there was a smear of blood on her forehead from a scraped place, but she was alive, alert. The sight of her hovering there pushed Egon over the edge. He brought up his hands to cover his face and a harsh sob of relief tore free.

All color drained from Leda's face and she tiptoed forward doubtfully. "Egon?" she ventured.

Peter touched Egon's shoulder gently. "It's okay, Egon, she's here. She's alive. It's all right."

"I am alive," Leda admitted. "But I am...afraid. Egon, please don't cry."

Spengler controlled himself with a visible effort. "I thought you had died," he ventured in a voice that quivered. "I thought you'd been thrown from the car." His hands came down slowly and he squinted at her as if he were afraid he had imagined her. "I should have taken you into the car. I am so sorry."

She shook her head fiercely and her hair, loose and tangled, bobbed about her face. "No, I was free of Gregor. You saved me." She edged still closer and held out a trusting hand. Peter gave Egon a nudge and the blond took it and enfolded it in both of his own.

She put her forehead down against his fingers. "The change came upon me. I thought I was too young, but it came and I jumped free of the car and ran wild in the forest." She shivered. "It went again at moonset. But before then, I ran back through the trees to Lupusville. My people are changed; they have a new transformation. I do not belong to them now." She quivered and her bottom lip trembled. "I belong nowhere."

Egon levered himself up and Peter helped to steady him, even though he didn't seem to be dizzy. He gathered the child into his arms. "Did they see you?" he asked.

"No, for I hid. They were...nasty. So were the vampires nasty. They were changed, too. I hid. I am good at hiding. I listened. They are going away, most of them. Gregor is...dead." She shivered. "I feared him most of all. Many of them are dead, and most of the rest are changed." She buried her face in Egon's shoulder and cried.

Peter had never been as proud of Egon as he was at that moment. The physicist put aside his own angst without a second's hesitation as he settled her in his lap. Egon had never related to kids as easily as the other three, not unless they were especially brilliant and he could interact with them that way. He'd been good with Meghan and Kenny Carter but they'd had the shared experience of the Bogeyman between them. But Leda loved him and he didn't let her down. One big hand stroked her hair, and he spoke softly and reassuringly to her. The hollowness of despair melted out of his eyes as if it had never been there, replaced by a fierce determination to make things right for the child who had nowhere to go.

"Did you have family there?" he asked.

"No. My mother died when I was born and my father died in the fighting when Gregor came. I was without kin among the werewolves, and that was why Gregor took me to be his servant. I was too young to transform and there were none to speak for me." She sniffled miserably and clung tight. "Where am I to go? Can I come with you?"

Egon didn't even hesitate. "Yes, for now. We will find you a family, Leda. I promise you that. Ray may know of someone who can take you."

That was true. Ray knew some awfully unlikely people, and who was to say that some of them wouldn't happily welcome a small werewolf into an unconventional household.

"Will you visit me, if he does?" she ventured.

"I promise you that I will." He hugged her tightly. Over her bent head, his eyes met Peter's. Maybe he hadn't totally forgiven himself for what he considered a screw-up, but he was starting to heal. Relief shone in his eyes. Peter figured he'd make a point of a few choice screw-ups of his own over the next few days, and he'd get Doctor Jackson to hit Egon with a few hard facts about concussions and how they affected people, even geniuses.

Speak of the devil. Jackson himself poked his head around the corner of the door. He looked like he'd been up all night and the rust-colored hair stood up in unruly, punk rocker spikes. When he saw the girl in Egon's lap, he closed his eyes for a second in pure relief and made a hasty sign of the cross before he came into the room. He paused beside Peter, measured him with his eyes, and gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder, then he spoke gently.

"Is this Leda?"

The little girl jumped. She hadn't heard him approach. Egon soothed her. "It's all right, Leda. This is Doctor Jackson, and he's a very kind man. Will you let him examine you? We want to make sure you're all right."

"I'm fine," Leda said. She touched the cut on her forehead. "This will heal quickly. My kind always do." Her eyes lingered on Egon's face, then she nodded. "All right. If you want me to, Egon."

"I do."

"Does he know what I am?" she whispered.

Jackson swallowed manfully. "I do know, sweetheart. It's all right. I'm a doctor and I'll take good care of you. We need to let Egon rest. He has a concussion and he needs to sleep now. You can see him after visiting hours begin, at ten o'clock. Before then we'll check you out, get you some clothes, and a hot meal. Are you hungry?"

She nodded. "I'll come back, Egon." Then she squared her shoulders and prepared to face the coming ordeal.

Jackson took her hand and led her to the door. He paused there and looked back. "Doctor Venkman. I'll give you five minutes, no more, then I want you to find yourself a real bed, even if you have to check into the Clover Leaf Motel across the street, and sleep until you wake up. If you don't do that, I'll have you admitted, and I warn you, I'll see the toughest nurses in this place will give you shots and baths until you'll wish you'd never heard of a hospital. Do we have an understanding?"

"Long as you give me that five minutes we do, doc," Peter said gratefully. He wasn't sure he could make it any further than a couch in the waiting room before he fell asleep.

When the doctor had left with Leda, with a promise to get word to Ray and Winston that they could call off the search, Peter turned to Egon again. "Hey, Spengs," he said gently. "You gonna make it?"

"I think I am, now." Egon actually looked somewhat embarrassed and that was the best sign of all. If he cared enough to worry about his behavior, he was definitely on the mend. "Peter. Thank you."

"I didn't bring her back, Egon. She found you on her own. Guess you've got what it takes with the female of the species."

"That's not what I meant." Egon hesitated, then he drew a steadying breath. "Thank you for sticking by me and for trying to take some of the blame onto yourself. For understanding and...caring." Even more embarrassed, he plunged on. "You are..." He hesitated. "...the living embodiment of the word 'friend'."

Peter felt heat run across his face and warmth flood through him. In spite of the grinding fatigue that made his body weigh as much as it would on the surface of Jupiter, he suddenly felt as if he could fly. "Geez, Egon, you're making me blush here." He stuck out a hand and grabbed Egon's. "Works the same for me," he admitted. "Now, are you finally gonna rest or shall I call Janine and let her know you've got a new girlfriend?" Oops, Janine. He hadn't even thought of calling her last night. She would have him for breakfast for that little oversight, but at least when he called her now he could tell her that Egon was okay.

The two men stared at each other for a silent moment, affirming their words and their friendship, then Egon ventured a quick smile. "Where is Janine? I would have expected her by now."

"I...uh, forgot, Egon. Guess I had something else on my mind. I'm gonna be sooo dead.... You've gotta protect me from her, big guy."

"And how do you suggest I do that?"

Peter hesitated, then his smile flashed out. "Well, you can always ask her to kiss your boo boos," he offered. "I can sneak out and head for the hills while she's fulfilling her lifelong fantasies."

"Peter," Egon groaned in tones of sheer disgust.

"Lupusville is mostly deserted," said Ray later that afternoon. Egon looked much better, so much so that he was sitting up in bed. Because he'd been through such an emotional trauma on top of the original injury, Doctor Jackson wanted to monitor him for one more night just to be certain, although the return of Leda had done so much for Spengler that he didn't even give a good imitation of a sick man. Peter, who had crashed and slept till one o'clock, had been delighted at the sight of Egon sitting up in bed, his normal color restored and his eyes glittering with intellect, when he returned to the hospital.

Winston and Ray, recalled from the search, had checked into the motel with him. They'd stopped in to see Egon after lunch before heading out to Lupusville to check out the situation. When they returned they found Leda visiting Egon. She was clean and tidy and dressed in jeans, tee shirt, and sneakers just like any kid--any kid who turned into a werewolf when the moon was full. Peter figured they had another month to get her settled somewhere before they'd have to deal with the fur and fangs situation.

"Well, a couple of the werewolves who didn't get bit by vampires are still there," explained Winston.

"Did you tell them about me?" Leda asked.

Ray shook his head. "They didn't ask and we didn't mention you. I didn't think you'd want to go back there."

"I don't." She shivered. "After Gregor and the vampires came, it wasn't home any more." She leaned closer to Egon. "They won't make me go back, will they? I mean, I've seen television. Gregor had a set. Nobody there was a relative; I don't have any kin. That means I have to go to foster care, doesn't it? Or will I have to go to juvenile hall?"

"'Course not," Peter reassured her. "You haven't done anything wrong. No juvie hall for you."

"But we can't just whisk you away," Ray said to her. "The werewolves at Lupusville said they're going to go away from there. They know they're busted. Even if we don't say a thing, the word's out from when we were looking for you last night. They only stayed to get a few things together."

"The running water didn't confine the vampires?" Egon asked, interested. Last night's bitter man who had been full of guilt and reproach might have ceased to exist. He was interested in the world around him again, thinking and reasoning, not just shut away inside his own pain. Peter heaved a vast mental sigh of relief.

Ray's eyes were wide with wonder. "No, I asked. The only ones that couldn't were the vampires who weren't bit by werewolves. There are a few of them still there, too, but they were the ones who didn't want to go out and cause trouble. It's not that they were really nice guys or anything, but they weren't as bad as Gregor. They're gonna go, too, once the dam is fixed."

"So you're saying the hybrid vampire/werewolves have all fled?" Egon asked.

"Yep, they might pop up again one day," Peter said with a grin. "But I have a sneaky feeling they're gonna go as far as they can away from here. We couldn't talk to any of the vampires because they're sleeping in their coffins, but the werewolves who didn't get bit talked to them before sunrise. They made a kind of treaty after the others were gone."

"Yeah, Egon, it's so exciting." Ray waved his hands for attention. "The ones that got bit by werewolves can go out in the daytime now, I guess. Just like they can cross water. And the werewolves who got bit think that maybe they can resist transforming into werewolves except by choice. Gosh, I wish we had one of them to study."

"Well, I don't," Winston muttered. "Never want to see any of those guys again. Anyway, Egon, they're mostly gone and the rest of them will be gone soon. I don't know if they'll give us trouble down the road or not, or if they'll just find places to hide away."

"I hope they go halfway across the world." Peter grimaced. "Last thing I want to see is a bunch of really hairy giant bats. Not a pretty picture."

"Just so long as they don't make us pay to repair the dam," offered Winston.

The rest of them ignored that. Peter didn't want to think how many mortgages they'd have to take out on the firehall to cover such an expense. He was positive their insurance wouldn't cover it. "You guys didn't tell anybody we did that?" he demanded in alarm.

Ray shook his head vehemently. "No way. We had to do it, though."

"Well, if the hybrids can cross running water...." Egon began thoughtfully.

"Thanks for that reality check, Spengs." Peter made a face at him, delighted when Egon made one back.

Peter turned to Leda. "We did some phoning for you, honey. I know the doctor called social services last night. We talked to a lady from the welfare office after we got back from Lupusville. Turns out she went out to Lupusville just last month. A Miss Pratt. Do you remember her?"

Leda nodded in surprise. "She was nice. She said she could find me a home with a family, since I didn't have any relatives there. Gregor pretended to be my uncle and told her a lot of lies. I don't think she believed him but I was scared to say anything and he didn't abuse me or anything so I couldn't say he had. I think Miss Pratt was worried about me but I was afraid Gregor would hurt her so I had to pretend I was happy." She frowned. "I don't know if she believed me or not, but I don't think she did. She did say she would do what she could."

"She's been working on it," Ray replied. "She didn't come out there again while she checked things out because she didn't want to make Gregor suspicious. She believes in all the legends, even if she says her supervisor doesn't. Last night was the full moon, so you won't transform again till next month. And maybe not then. Last night might have been because of all the tension. You might not do it again regularly for a few more years."

"But what if I do? I mean, foster families won't believe. And what if I hurt somebody?"

"You won't hurt anybody. Your people haven't hurt anybody yet. They're pretty nice werewolves, at least the ones I talked to. I think that part will be okay. And you're right about the foster homes. They probably won't believe it." Ray grinned at her. "I was in foster care for a while myself right after my parents died before I went to live with my cousin Sam and her family. It isn't so bad."

Peter shot him a very knowing look. Maybe it wasn't so bad, but it wasn't like really belonging, either. He was glad Ray had this family now. Greatest family going.

"But it's probably not gonna come to that," Peter assured her. "Ray knows this couple, the Mitchells. They live on Long Island, and they're--well, they know about the paranormal and occult and all that good stuff. They don't have any kids, and they're nice folks. Ray called them and they're really interested. We told Miss Pratt about them and she talked to them on the phone. She says she's not sure the county can fund foster care there since it's another county and they're not licensed foster parents, and we don't even known where your birth records are, but the Mitchells said they didn't have to have payment and they'd get a license if that was what it took. They're coming tomorrow to meet you. They can afford to take you in and they've got a lot of standing in their community so they can get good references."

"You'll really like them, Leda," Ray assured the girl. "They're good people. They'll understand the werewolf part and they'll be interested and do what they can for you. They'll help you through it and make sure that you don't hurt anybody by mistake. It sounds like your people never caused any trouble, and you'll learn how to live with it. They'll work with you. I think it's gonna be great."

Leda's big eyes lingered on Ray's face, moved on to study Peter, and then Winston. She must have seen the confirmation on their faces because some of the tension left her slender shoulders. She slid out of her chair and went to stand beside the bed. "Egon. Should I go with them?"

"I think it would be an ideal solution, Leda. You'd have parents who would care about you, and you'd be close enough that we could visit you."

Her face lit like the sun and she flung her arms around him and hugged him fiercely. "I love you," she whispered.

Color ran across Egon's cheekbones. He hugged her back. "I love you, too."

Peter exchanged a satisfied grin with Ray and Winston. Egon was going to be just fine.

"Tell me, Peter, do you really think it was a question of ego?"

It was two nights later. Leda had gone off with the Mitchells quite happily; it had been a case of love at first sight for the three of them. She'd probably advocate for visiting Egon a lot at first, but she'd gradually settle into her new life and remember him as the man who had changed her world and given her a chance at happiness. There were a lot worse things to be remembered for.

It was early evening, and Ray had gone off to one of his comic collector's meetings, and Winston had a date. Peter and Egon had called out for pizza and settled down in front of the TV. Egon still had mild headaches and the doctor had decreed he not work in the lab in the evenings for the next day or two until they faded. The guys were very religious about enforcing the rule.

The question startled Peter. "I never said ego, exactly," he hedged. He deposited his slice of pizza back on the tray and cast a wary glance around for Slimer to make sure the spud wouldn't snatch it the minute his back was turned. The little ghost was nowhere in sight. "But yeah, I guess I meant that--a little. I wasn't dissing you for it, just trying to break through that stubborn streak of yours. But you know, you can be an awfully hard act to follow sometimes."

Egon stared at him, startled. "I quite honestly don't believe I am perfect, Peter, nor do I expect myself to be."

"You sure about that? I remember once when you screwed up on a case you said something about it being your first major blunder. Hate to break it to you but a lot of us make major blunders all the time. If we didn't learn to live with that, we'd all go nuts. I may be a great guy, but I'm hardly perfect."

"I shall remember you said that, the next time I catch you peacocking for a TV camera crew."

Peter poked him in the ribs. "Come on, Spengs, you know what I mean. You can't set yourself impossible tasks and then take yourself down when you can't achieve them. Nobody expects you to walk on water here." He hesitated. "Okay, so maybe we do expect it sometimes. We always think you'll come through with the answer. Maybe we helped set you up to take that fall. But the thing is, none of it was your fault. The vampires imprisoned Leda, and they're the ones who caused your concussion. And I'm the one who wouldn't let you talk in the car." He hesitated. "Are you mad at me about that?"

"No of course n--" Egon broke off. "Yes, a part of me is angry, Peter," he admitted. "No, perhaps 'frustrated' is a better word. I kept trying and you wouldn't hear me."

"Too scared to listen, buddy. You'd just keeled over on us. Imagine what you'd have done if one of us passed out."

"I...see." Egon nodded. "I'm not really angry at you, Peter. I'm so annoyed that I couldn't do the right thing. I couldn't even see that I wasn't handling it right."

"Yeah, that's called a concussion, good buddy. Messes with your mind a little. We didn't expect you to make any sense then. You had a little memory loss and you were barely even conscious. Lousy experience all around. You tried, though, even when you could hardly think, and that's what matters. Let's put the blame where it belongs, not on you. If you start going on about how you can function perfectly when you've got a head injury, then it is about ego, and that's the bottom line. You'd think 'ego' was short for 'Egon'. You have to learn when to cut yourself a little slack or you can make yourself crazy. And I'm a competent professional psychologist and I know that's true."

"It was still hard to believe that I could make such a grave error." He gazed down at the piece of pizza in his hand then he set it aside with a grimace of distaste.

Peter grabbed Egon by the upper arms and shook him. "Yeah, well, you scared the hell out of me back there, you know that? Keeling over, and then dumping on yourself like you were taking masochism lessons. Quit it, okay? Or put the blame where it belongs and go on. Leda's okay, and even if the worst had happened, it still wouldn't have been your fault or even ours for not hearing what you thought you were saying. I know it would have been really crummy to live with, but it wouldn't have been your fault. If you claim it was, I'm gonna have to resign my post as the most egotistical Ghostbuster and turn it over to you. You got that?" He tightened his grip on Egon's arms. "Got it?"

"If I say no, I'll be shaken within an inch of my life. Yes, Peter, I do see the point you're making. It's a hard thing to accept, that I couldn't handle the injury better, but I do know rationally that I couldn't. I most likely believed I was clear-headed even when I wasn't. Just grant me a little time to know it here." He tapped his chest. "As well as here." He touched his forehead.

Peter grinned at him. "Yeah, that's the hardest part. Believe me, I know. I got that way myself when I was dealing with old Watt. Should have been able to dump him out and keep him from opening the containment unit, that time I was possessed."

"It would have been physically imposs--" He broke off so abruptly that Peter could almost see the light bulb snap on over his head.

"Bingo!"

This time, Egon's smile was completely genuine. "You are a competent professional psychologist, Peter." The warmth in Egon's eyes was the glow of a man who is ready to come to terms with himself.

The tightness inside Peter relaxed and he grinned a big, sloppy grin. "You bet I am. Venkman the genius."

"If we're to speak of ego...."

"Nah, we're all done with that subject--aren't we?"

Suddenly Egon's eyes filled with humor. "Indeed. And I anticipate with great amusement the next topic."

"Which is?" Peter asked warily.

Egon gestured down at the pizza box. Peter's half-eaten piece, not to mention the rest of the pizza, had vanished without a trace, leaving only a sizeable dollop of slime in its place. Across the room, the little ghost was energetically engaged in cramming the remaining pizza into his wide mouth.

Peter erupted from the couch with a bellow of outrage. "Slimer! You give that back. Uh, no, on second hand, don't give it back. Gross! You're dead, Slimer. When I get my hands on you--"

Egon collapsed against the sofa cushions and laughed until joyful tears filled his eyes.

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