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Rocket flew to and from Spinners - much to the chagrin of the teenage bellhops who had to deal with her and her proton streams - to grab her and Egon some lunch. It got its usual: Deep-fried pickles, a turkey club on white with no mayo and no bacon, and a lemonade. She would have gotten ice cream, but it would get all melty, and she was lactose intolerant anyways.
Egon hadn’t quite told her what he liked, so it guessed (Whatever he didn’t eat, well, the wildlife would): A hamburger and a chicken burger, each with the toppings in little containers so he could choose, a bunch of water to make up for all that flying he did, and a vanilla shake (Everyone likes vanilla , it figured). She was sure he would need a bigger meal due to his... condition, so to hell with it. Red and white meat for his lunch today.
Touching down on the dusty ground with bags in hand, Rocket hoped the food wasn’t dusty. “Hey!” it called into the corner. “Got you the only unique food in town, as requested.”
From the dark corner came the big purple scientist, chuckling as he stretched his wings. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” They met each other in the middle, sitting in a noon sunbeam from the hole in the ceiling. After handing the food off to Egon’s massive claws, Rocket deactivated its proton pack and finally shed it onto the ground with a thunk and a sigh.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how do your braces stay attached to your legs?”
Rocket glanced up at the curious face of her friend as she knelt down. It tugged at the clamps around its calves, releasing the pressure and freeing its legs from the weight. “Uh, well. A combination of things.” She stood back up and stepped out of them one at a time. “Friction between the padding and my leg, neodymium magnets in the legs of my flight suit,” it rambled, stepping out of said suit, “Industrial strength Velcro, a few belt buckles... pretty much everything we could find or order off the Internet that fastens things to other things but can be opened repeatedly.”
Egon nodded, appreciating the information. “Well, they say make do with what you’ve got.”
Rocket snorted as she laid its flight suit on the cavern floor to sit on, and reached for his hand for her food. “Yeah, Summerville people are kinda good at that. I mean, we’re only here because some crazy dude wanted to mine selenium for his cult, so,” she muttered with a shrug. Her turkey sandwich was already unwrapped, and she took a bite.
"That must be..." Egon tucked his tail around his knees as he sat criss-cross-applesauce on the cavern floor. "...difficult for you. Knowing that your hometown exists because of such a man."
She shrugged as she chewed. "Eh, it's whatever. What's done is done. I can't go back in time to stop it from happening. And like," she took and swallowed another bite. "Even if I could, would I? I mean, we've seen Back to the Future . We all know how that goes, right? There's no way I’d really change anything, even if it does suck that, y’know, my Egon had to die.” Rocket took a few sips of its lemonade. “That’s just how it went.”
The scientist had already finished his hamburger and a water bottle as she rambled; Interdimensional travel must be really draining. “I’m glad you’ve at least made peace with it. His passing and the history of Summerville, I mean.”
“Yeah. Yep, just, uh… Keepin’ the peace, stayin’ the course. It’s my job.”
Egon nodded, and the two sat in a comfortable silence as they continued to eat. From what Rocket could tell, her guest was enjoying what she got him, so that was good. She even let him have one of her fried pickles (he’d never had one before), and after finishing nearly all of his water, he gave himself a brain freeze by chugging his milkshake. They shared a good laugh, then each laid in the warm spring sunshine to recover.
A quick glance at her phone told Rocket it was already 12:29, but it was Good Friday. She wasn’t engaging with anything academic if she could help it. Maybe Egon being stuck there was a good thing, and not just another problem to be solved.
“Rocket?”
“Yeah?”
The blonde demon sat up slowly, stretching all of his limbs, and Rocket followed suit. “May I ask you something?”
“Anything, Doc.”
“Well - A bit ago, you mentioned that it was your ‘job’ to keep the peace, and… ‘stay the course.’ What did you mean by that?”
Rocket’s expression iced over as she broke eye contact. She didn’t say a word for about thirty seconds or so, but Egon could tell she was thinking, and knew not to pry. He waited for the answer to come to him, rather than snatching it before it was ready.
“Well… My Egon. He kind of… tasked me with being the - this sounds so fucking stupid but I’m quoting the guy, I swear. He tasked me with being the sort of, guardian of Summerville. At first, I just kind of smiled and nodded, figured he was being metaphorical. And then, y’know, it happened, and I was like. Damn. Alright. Yep. Guess he wasn’t fucking kidding. So… Yeah. Again, quoting him, I had to ‘stay the course and keep the peace,’ as in - Keep up the research and make sure the town stayed safe and ghost-free.”
Egon hummed and nodded, tilting his head as he folded his hands in his lap, sensing she had more to say as she scooted a little closer. and faced him.
“And I’ll fully admit, I had and still have no fucking idea what kind of research he really wanted me to maintain, I mean - he had like ten degrees. Many of them doctorates. How he did that, I have no idea, but he did, which made him way more qualified than me.” Rocket had to laugh at the image of The Degree Wall in its head. “Luckily, I think Phoebe understands his work, so… I left the ‘stay the course’ thing mostly up to her. My job is to just watch out for her, keep her safe, offer help whenever I can. Funny enough, she actually struggles in math. If they’d just let her learn in her own way, she’d be fine, but public school in Oklahoma isn’t, like, able to do that. Y’know?” She stopped to look Egon in the eye again, and as he nodded, she continued. “Once she’s in college, she’ll be fine. Same with Trev and Pods and Lucky.” Its voice began to crack. “They’re all just… such good kids. And they’re gonna go on such different paths, but they’ll never break apart,” she muttered, succumbing to the tears of joy, pride, jealousy, and bitter sadness.
Egon instantly moved to Rocket and wrapped his tail around her middle a few times. An arm pulled her close to his side and gently pet her back; A wing surrounded her, blocking out the world for now. They sat, and they sat, and they sat some more. Rocket couldn’t tell how much time passed at first, but by the time she came to, her head was in Egon’s lap, and the sunbeam had moved away from them. She thought for a moment that she might have slept so hard she drooled, but she wasn’t going to mention that. It figured he wouldn’t care, anyway.
“...Sorry,” though, came out like an instinct.
“Don’t be, dear.” Egon’s voice was like a warm hug on top of the warm hug he was still giving her with three limbs. “May I explain what I think you’re feeling?”
“...Yeah.”
“I sense your loneliness, and I sense that your innate needs to both follow and lead are conflicting. You know you cannot be everywhere at once, and that you cannot overstep others’ boundaries, but you want to take charge. You want to be… heroic, for lack of a better word. And that’s not a bad thing. Someone who truly wishes to fight off threats, great and small, physical and emotional - That is someone the world will always need. But you must learn to carry that feeling when it isn’t needed. Your brain is wired to always look for the threat in everything, but there isn’t always one. That’s not your fault in the slightest, but you must surround yourself with people who help disengage that feeling inside you.” Egon paused for a moment. “Am I making… any sense, any sense at all?”
Rocket was floored. “Are you sure you’re not the psychologist of the team?”
The scientist laughed heartily. “No, not by trade, at least. I have a degree in it, but only as an undergraduate. And I didn’t even do all that well.”
“ Only an undergrad degree in psych,” Rocket scoffed. “Right, okay…”
“I had nothing but time in my life. No passion but school. You must understand this,” Egon assured. “...That, and the universities waived many of the general education requirements after I kept coming back for more degrees.”
The little Ghostbuster laughed and sighed at the hilarity of her life.
“In all seriousness, Rocket, I am here for you. We all are. Two moderately-sized breakdowns in a day isn’t exactly healthy.”
“Neither are fried pickles, but I still eat them.”
Egon snorted. “Well, fried pickles still give you nutrients and energy. Breakdowns, while they are a release of stress chemicals, are merely draining, and a sign of deeper issues.”
“I know. I know.”
“What I’m trying to get at, here, is that we all care about you, Rocket. You just have to ask.”
The girl whispered a thanks, then went back to resting her mind with her friend. He dangled his legs over the edge of the hole, and they exchanged anecdotes about anything, everything, and nothing at all. She told him he’d be on his own for a few days because of family coming over; They laughed until the stars were starting to shimmer in the sky.
Though Rocket didn’t remember falling asleep, she did wake up to the rush of air against her face. Egon was taking her home, her in one arm and her gear in another. Her head hit the pillow only ten short minutes later, and she awoke ten long hours later fully prepared to meet the Easter weekend.