One of the double doors swung open with a loud squeak and Angie stepped in. She was wearing the same oversized coat and baggy jeans, and her dark brown hair in a French braid that trailed down her back.

“Look’s like the coast is clear, guys.” She turned to look behind her, addressing Maxwell and Dave. “Nobody’s inside.”

“Oh, what a relief,” Maxwell returned sarcastically.

“Look, if you two didn’t wanna break into a Catholic church, we coulda found a nice Protestant one, okay?” The girl snapped back, huffing her way in. “And close the door behind you.”

“You’ve really gotta lighten up, Angela,” came Dave’s voice. As the two boys came in, the four Ghostbusters got their throwers ready, but watched as Angela beat her arms against her coat sleeves. “It’s not the first time we’ve wanted to check out a church,” Dave continued.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. What the hell’s with you, anyway?” Angela frowned at the pair. “I know you’re a Protestant-” She pointed at Maxwell, then frowned and pointed at Dave. “Or were you? Well, that doesn’t matter. If Father Brian finds us, we could be arrested for--”

“Trespassing. Possibly breaking and entering.” Ray replied. At Ray’s voice, the trio yelped and spun to face him, the boys edging forward to flank the girl protectively as they had before. If they noticed that Ray was wearing a jumpsuit, they didn’t say anything about it.

“Brother Raymond!” Angela slapped on a bright smile and slipped into an ingratiating tone. “Hi!” She blinked and glanced at Peter. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were here with somebody.”

Peter threw a quick glance to Egon, who looked as surprised as he did.

Angie’s smile faltered, but her hands crept up surreptitiously to grab onto a handful of each boy’s coats. “We can come back later…”

“Nah,” Peter shook his head. “I just came to--” He desperately snatched at the first thing that popped into his mind. “--visit my favorite little brother.”

“Brother?” Maxwell raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“Adopted.” Peter answered breezily. “And what are you kiddies doing here?”

Angie ignored the change of subject as she turned to Ray. “You never mentioned you had a brother.”

Before the blue-eyed Ray could reply, Peter kept going. “I’m normally out of the country a lot.”

Angie grunted, accepting what little she’d been given. “Well, if you’re busy at the moment, we can always come back, like I said.”

“No, that’s quite all right.” Ray answered before Peter could interrupt, shooting the psychologist a dark look before turning to the kids. “What can the holy church do for you three? And who are your friends?”

Angela gave a nervous chuckle as she indicated the two boys. “This is Maxwell.” She slapped the taller in his back, receiving a quick glare for her exuberance. “And this is Dave.” As before, Peter noticed that she was careful not to touch Dave.

Ray nodded to both of them. “A pleasure to meet you.” The boys nodded back respectfully. “Now, what can the holy church do for you?”

Angela nervously chuckled again, but before she could come up with an excuse, Dave stepped forward, looking from Ray to Angie and back.

“Actually, we wanted to hear Angie sing, sir.” The shorter boy shrugged. “Angie said she was in the church choir, and she gets nervous when we asked to hear some hymns, so me and Max figured if she were at church, she’d be willing to sing for us.”

Maxwell nodded quickly. “And a few prayers to the Lord wouldn’t hurt either.”

Ray nodded, still smiling. “Very well, my children.” He turned to Peter. “Did you say you wanted to see the next newsletter before you left for Manhattan?”

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind listening to Angela sing,” Peter replied with an innocent looking smile. “You’re a soprano, right?”

Angie gritted her teeth, her eyes extremely nervous. “High alto.”

“I never was any good at music. Failed it in high school.” Peter shrugged.

“I’m sure that Angela doesn’t need any more pressure on her then her friends will give her.” Ray answered with a smile, gently laying his hand on Peter’s arm. “Why don’t you help me with the newsletter for next week?”

“And miss out on the performance?” Peter looked woebegone before he shot Egon another glance.

The hand tightened on Peter’s right arm jovially, but with increasing pressure. “Peter, I insist.” Raymond’s smile turned ominous as the possessed engineer gritted his teeth. Not even waiting for a response, Ray turned to the trio, his smile softening a little. “I trust you won’t make a mess while I’m out.” He turned knowing eyes to Angela. “Right, Angie?”

“Oh, ha ha, Brother Raymond.” Angie remarked sarcastically before sighing melodramatically. “I hope you realize that the cross already snapped in half before I ever touched it.”

Ray folded his arms across his chest and gave her a long, though thoroughly amused look.

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry I broke your favorite rosary. You go finish that very vital newsletter. We’ll be good.” Angie rolled her eyes with a smile. The three kids waited politely as Ray half-dragged, half-led Peter to the door that was to the left of the statue of Mary, closing it behind him a bit more firmly than was needed as they entered the backroom.

“Egon, what the hell was that?” Winston turned to the blond scientist, whose attention was focused more on the kids as the boys went to stand in front of the altar. “The kids’ lines changed!”

Egon frowned, absently pushing his sliding glasses higher on his nose. “It could be the fact that Peter is now in the repeater. It would support Ray’s theory, and perhaps the change in dialogue is a fluke of the broken locket.”

“Who *was* that guy?” Dave asked before Angie turned to her notes.

“Y’mean that Peter dude?” Angie asked with a frown. “I dunno, but I do know that Brother Raymond never said he had any brothers, adopted or otherwise.”

“Then perhaps Brother Raymond might be in trouble with Peter?” Maxwell suggested. “Or maybe Peter’s boss?”

Angie shook her head emphatically. “No way, man. Raymond doesn’t *do* that kinda stuff.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And he’s a man of the church.”

“Well, there are such things as corrupt priests.” Dave told her plainly. “Hell, I’ve seen my share of ‘em.”

“I thought you wanted to get married.” Angie reminded him with an edge in her voice.

“Sorry, Angie.” Dave held up his hands in surrender. “Didn’t mean to piss you off.” Angie nodded curtly in reply.

Maxwell opened his mouth to speak when he stopped. With a frown, he turned to Dave. “For some reason, it feels like we’ve been through this before.”

Dave gave the taller boy a puzzled look before shrugging. “Maybe we have in another life or something.”

“Maybe,” Maxwell answered with less certainty, but returned his gaze to the girl behind the altar. “Don’t tell me you lost the notes again.”

“No, I didn’t.” Angie answered with the same exasperation in her voice as Maxwell’s had. “I have them in here somewhere.”

There was a long creak, causing both Egon and Winston to turn to the front doors in anticipation. As if on cue, the young man wearing the football jersey and carrying the automatic stepped inside.

Winston blinked as he realized something. “Egon? There’s only four ghosts. Five counting Brother Raymond. Aren’t there supposed to be twelve?”

Egon, who had been walking toward the young man, stopped in his tracks. “I… believe you’re correct.”

“Jesus, where’re the other seven?” Winston risked a glance toward the ceiling.

The young man lifted the gun to point at Angela behind the altar.

“No!” Egon shouted. Before Winston could react, the tall scientist ran at full tilt toward the gunman seconds before he could pull the trigger. Egon grabbed the barrel of the gun and roughly shoved it towards the ceiling. A spray of gunfire erupted from the automatic, one or two stray bullets shattering one of the stained glass windows before shooting harmlessly at the ceiling.

“What the--” The gunman, suddenly faced with a man who that came out of nowhere, wrestled for the gun. He kicked Egon in the groin, and as the physicist tried to recover, he threw a glance at the three at the altar.

“Get out of here!” Egon barked the order. “Now!”

“Egon, what the hell are you doing?!” Winston exclaimed. “Peter! Ray!”

Startled out of their shock, the kids were soon in motion, each of the boys taking the sides as the girl ran up the middle aisle.

“That will only make them vulnerable, Winston!” Egon shouted back, grunting as he tried to wrest the gun from the boy.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” The boy with the gun snarled, his eyes flashing an alarming fiery red before planting a solid kick in Egon’s gut. “Demon spawn, you’re paying for your sins if I have to send you back to Hell myself!”

There was more gunfire heard as the kid ripped the gun from Egon’s grip and twisted around to rip a trail of holes in Angie’s back. She fell with a scream, her head bouncing once on the floor when she fell.

“Angie!” Dave shouted, hesitating a few steps from the door to take a step toward the fallen girl.

“Dave, run!” Egon shouted, only to receive a flurry of bullets to his abdomen. As the boy wheeled around to his right, stray shots managed to catch Maxwell in one arm, a small blossom of red blooming as he shouted in pain.

“EGON!” Winston shouted in alarm, seeing the scientist wrap a tense arm around his stomach and wince as he applied pressure to the wounds. The blond remained doubled over, but was still breathing.

“Max?!” Dave ran for the front doors and grabbed one of the doorknobs in time for his back to explode in pain and spray the doors with dark red. He took a hitching breath before slumping against the door and sliding down in a streak of blood.

“Dave!” Maxwell cried, another volley of bullets catching the unfortunate boy in the head.

“NO!” Egon shouted, stumbling toward the boy. The kid swung the gun around to point it squarely at Egon’s head.

“Seems to me that you guys are just crawlin’ outta the woodwork, huh?” The kid whispered. “Wonder how many’ll pop out when I shoot you all to hell.”

“Egon!” Winston exclaimed. There was loud shouting and some thuds coming from the back room before the door banged open, revealing a pale, swearing Peter and a Ray that had a hand clamped around the psychologist’s arm and was trying to pull him back to safety.

“EGON!” Peter shouted, fighting with renewed vigor as he wrenched his arm from the possessed occultist’s grip and ran at full tilt to the doubled-over physicist. “Hold on! I’m coming!”

“Peter, no!” Winston tried to make a grab for the sprinting man as the kid’s gun came up to aim at Peter. After a split second of indecision, he grabbed a hold of one of Peter’s arms and threw him to the ground, throwing himself on top of the psychologist to make sure he didn’t get back up.

More shots ripped the air, and as Winston looked, he saw Ray stumble and fall to his knees, swaying uncertainly but breathing heavily as he labored to keep himself propped up on his elbows.

“Ray!” Peter squirmed around, trying to get out from under Winston. “Egon! Answer me!”

“Talking’s not the smartest thing you can do right now, buddy.” The gunman used a foot to shove Egon into one of the pews and advanced on the prone Peter. “God, *finally*, you fuckers will stop. Finally…”

“Winston, get off!” Peter grunted, shoving futilely at the man pinning him down.

“There’s another one…” The boy’s eyes widened and narrowed with alarming intensity. The gun flowed from Peter’s chest to his forehead. “Tell me where he is. Now.”

“Huh?!” Peter turned alarmed green eyes on the boy.

“Peter…” Egon latched onto the pew he was slumped against with a white-knuckled grip and sluggishly pushed himself up to a standing position. “Not…again…”

The finger poised around the trigger tightened as Peter watched, shaking his head futilely just as he felt Winston’s weight ease off of him. Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, the psychologist waited for the pain he knew would rip through him like claws out of the darkness of little kid’s closets. One second, then another, and then another passed with no pain, and one of his eyes popped open, and then both.

Egon was standing over him, holding the gun with a white-knuckled grip. The long face was pale, the blue eyes terrified. The blond shook his head savagely, gritting his teeth. The dark blue jumpsuit was coated in dark red liquid, from his abdomen down, but no fresh blood was seeping from the gummed on cloth.

“No…” Egon shook his head even as his violently shaking arm was keeping the barrel firmly pointed at Peter’s head. “No!”

“Egon?” Peter frowned, scuttling out from under the barrel and standing up with help from Winston.

Egon gritted his teeth, blinking once owlishly. His ears perked as his eyes widened. “My god….”

“Egon?” Peter asked sharply, trying to get the taller man’s attention.

The physicist shook his head again, squeezing his eyes tight. After wrenching one of his hands to grab his forehead, Egon blinked once and turned on Peter. His eyes, once a rich blue were now dark brown.

“My god…” Egon’s voice was now barely a whisper. “Demons…. They’re… everywhere….”

Ray raised his face from the floor and lifted heavy lids to stare at the taller man with furrowed eyebrows. Egon writhed, squeezing his eyes tightly again and letting out a hoarse scream as the hand on his hair grabbed a handful in frustration. His eyes snapped open again after more violent head shaking, and he aimed the gun at the psychologist with a rock-steady hand.

“Peter, get out of the way.” Egon managed through gritted teeth.

“No way, Spengler.” Peter shook his head firmly. “If we can get through to him…”

/DEMONS. DEMONS./ Egon froze at the new voice that invaded his thoughts. /DEMONS EVERYWHERE. HAVE TO KILL. LEAVE ME ALONE. MUST DESTROY. EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING. DEMON DEMON DEMON DEMON DEMON. KILL KILL KILL *KILL*!/

/No! Wait!/ Egon protested silently. /Not Peter! I love him!/

/DEMON! DEMONS MUST *DIE*!/

“Peter, I'm losing control!”

“Fight it, Egon!” Peter ordered. “I know we can get through! I know you can fight him!”

/No! I'm shooting! Why can't I stop?! I have to stop! NO! Peter, get down, get down Peter, no, no, NO I can't do this, I can't, I just need to keep my finger from bending and I can save him,/ His index finger curled around the trigger. /nononononono/

"PETER!" Egon's scream seemed to last forever as bullets shrieked towards the psychologist.

Winston was frozen in place, staring in horror as Peter fell to the floor, the long legs buckling as a holes ripped open in the chest of the dark brown jumpsuit. The psychologist’s brown hair bounced and flowed back his face as his head hit the floor, blood trickling from his mouth.

There was a step, and then Winston felt familiar, square hands on his arms, gripping him tightly but gently turning him away from the sight. The younger man kept a firm grip on his jumpsuit, and even as Winston gave him a once over, he could immediately saw Ray’s bloodied jumpsuit was growing darker with new gunshot wounds. He was swaying so much that Winston had to keep a tight hold on him before the redhead fell to the floor.

Pale blue eyes pinned him in place from Ray’s familiar features, and one of the possessed man’s hands shook as it came up to cover his eyes. “Don’t look, my son.”

Vaguely, as if from a distance, Winston felt the hand jerk spasmodically in front of his eyes and heard Egon's scream end abruptly with another blast from the gun.

The hand slowly dropped from Winston’s eyes, revealing the same innocent-looking face and the same unnatural eyes now wide with pain.

“His name is Legion,” wheezed Brother Raymond before he exhaled and slumped in Winston’s arms. The dark man gently laid the occultist on the floor, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh.

“Legion…” Winston frowned, trying to place the images of his friends’ bodies out of his mind. Taking a shaky breath, he stepped over Ray’s peaceful form to Peter’s and Egon’s bodies, and placing their arms over their chests, as well as removing Egon’s proton pack and setting it next to the closest pew. He watched with detached interest as the gun faded away, as well as the corpses of the ghosts. A patch of white sunlight was filtered through more colors as a stained glass window repaired itself.

Taking a seat in one of the pews, Winston took out the piece of the locket he had found and examined it without really seeing it. It was whole, with the part where the hinge connected to the other half being the only thing that was broken.

After a moment of sitting, he stood to drop to the floor next to Egon and checked his watch. *Anytime now, guys…*

After what felt like an eternity, Egon’s eyes began to flutter open before snapping open, followed by the man bolting upright to a sitting position.

“Egon?” Winston looked at him with a worried expression. “You okay, man?”

Egon’s head snapped to face the black man with wide eyes. He had to blink twice before recognition came to him. “Winston…”

Winston frowned. “Egon, take a deep breath and try to calm down.” He looked over his shoulder at Peter, whose chest was slowly rising and falling as his eyelids fluttered.

“…God, not again…” Peter muttered, slowly pushing himself up to a sitting position. The psychologist winced and clapped a hand to his aching forehead with a groan, but otherwise appeared to be waking as he did before. “I swear, I’ve had more near-death experiences than Rasputin.”

Ray blinked owlishly as he sat up with some difficulty, his eyes already back to their original red-brown color. With a jaw-cracking yawn, he scrambled gracelessly to his feet, grasping a nearby pew for support. Peter and Egon managed to get upright, wobbling and clutching each other in an effort to stay vertical themselves.

“Did anything… else happen after we…” Egon tried to ask delicately, but his voice petered off. To cover for his silence, he pulled on his proton pack and holstered the rifle.

“Bit the big one?” Peter supplied. Egon rolled his eyes.

“Before Ray died, he told me that the kid’s name was Legion.” Winston answered, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Legion?” Ray frowned. “Wasn’t he the guy who was possessed by hundreds of demons at once and Jesus forced them out into a herd of pigs?”

“Talk about bringing home the bacon.” Peter muttered.

Egon rolled his eyes at one of Peter’s comments and nudged him in silent rebuke, though he was secretly glad that the psychologist was still around to make them. “It was more like seven.” The blond corrected Ray as he reached for his PKE meter and pulled it out.

“It would explain the seven Class Threes that we haven’t seen yet.” Winston remarked.

“Looks like we’ll need the ecto-scopes for this one. I didn’t see any ghosts other than Angie, the two boys, and the kid with the gun.” Ray looked around quickly. “Hey, has anybody seen my proton pack?”

“Behind the altar, along with Peter’s.” Egon answered absently as he fine-tuned the meter and proceeded to scan the premises.

“I’ll be right back, guys.” Winston moved towards the door. “It hasn’t been too long since you guys were down and out, but if the repeater starts up again, try not to get yourselves killed.”

“We will, Winston.” Ray nodded, reaching the altar and picked up his proton pack. As he shrugged into the straps, he walked down the aisle and took up a post. “I’ll give you guys a heads-up when my eyes start changing color.” The youngest member saw Egon nod thankfully out of the corner of his eye.

“Just remember that once you touch the ghosts, you’re toast,” Peter’s breezy voice followed the black man on his way out of the double doors.

When he heard a footstep in front of him, Egon looked up from frowning at the PKE meter to look at Peter for a long moment. “Yes, Peter?”

“You okay, Spengs?” Peter asked with serious eyes despite the carefree smile he had.

“As well as can be expected, under the circumstances.” Egon admitted with a sigh.

“As soon as this bust is over with, I am going to sleep for a week.” Peter muttered wearily.

Egon managed a small smile. “And this differs from your normal sleeping patterns in what fashion?”

Peter stuck his tongue out at the scientist petulantly.

“As ever, your talents of wit amaze me.” Egon replied. “However do you do it?”

“With my superior intellect,” Peter snorted. “I stick my tongue out at you, and you don’t take advantage of it? And you’re supposed to be a genius.”

“We are in the middle of a dangerous bust, Dr. Venkman.” Egon reminded him. “I’m sure that the ghosts would not appreciate seeing two grown men kissing each other in a Catholic church. Especially not when one of said ghosts is a priest.”

“Y’know, you’re really no fun anymore, Dr. Spengler.” Peter smiled.

“I apologize profusely, Peter. As soon as I am able to recover from the fact that you have been shot and killed twice, I will see to apologizing in a more appropriate manner at a later time.”

Peter moved closer to wrap an arm around Egon’s shoulders. “It’s been a helluva bust, huh?”

“A ‘hell of one’ is an extreme understatement.” Egon snorted in reply, wrapping an arm around as much of Peter’s waist as possible. Closing his eyes, the weary physicist tried to gain some strength from Peter’s presence before facing the man, but it seemed that more energy was required than he could handle at the moment, and settled for resting his chin on Peter’s dark hair and breathing in the scent of the shampoo Peter had used that morning. He could feel Peter nuzzling into his neck and allowed himself the luxury of closing his eyes.

“I swear, if I get shot one more time, I’m gonna kill that kid.”

“That would be extremely difficult as the young man in question is already dead.” Egon said it half-jokingly, but Peter could still pick up on the tension in the taller man’s voice.

Egon and Peter pulled back far enough to exchange a silent look before the door opened to allow Winston to come in, wearing a helmet with ecto-scopes, three other helmets in his hands. “Ray, catch.”

Ray looked up from his reflection in the font’s holy water and caught a helmet, but didn’t strap them on. “Thanks, Winston, but I’m gonna wait until my eyes start changing color before putting it on.”

“That may not be necessary, Ray.” Egon told him as he let go of Peter, his thoughts churning. “Winston, do you have the locket with you?”

“Half of it.” Winston frowned as Peter took one of the helmets from him and put it on. “You thinking about putting the pieces back together?”

Egon nodded, taking the last helmet absently. “Exactly. If we can fix the locket, perhaps we won’t become entangled in the events of the repeater, and we can bust the ghosts we can’t see...”

“And help the ones that we can to disperse peacefully!” Ray grinned. “Great idea, Egon!”

Egon looked at the redheaded Ghostbuster squarely. “Ray, do you know where the rest of the locket fell when it broke?”

“It should be over here in front of the altar. I think it fell when I got off the altar in the first loop.”

“I’ll get it.” Winston said, moving to the front of the altar. “I saw where it fell.”

“Well, I guess the only question now is when’s it gonna start?” Ray turned to look at Egon, who shook his head.

“I have no idea. It could be anywhere from the next few seconds to fifteen minutes.”

“Well, I’d rather not get shot again, so I hope you have a plan, Spengler.” Peter grunted as he readjusted the helmet on his head and checked the lenses of the scopes.

“It’s simple enough for you to appreciate, Peter.” Egon smiled. “We merely find the locket and put the pieces back together. When the repeater begins again, we wait until the shooter enters the church, we find the entities we haven’t been able to see, and trap them. If at that point, the ghosts don’t disperse, we help them to do so.”

“And if we can’t find the pieces of the locket?” Peter asked, almost knowing the answer word for word before Egon could answer.

“Then we’re in serious danger,” Egon told him grimly as he removed his glasses to strap on the helmet and adjust the ecto-scopes.

“And what about the shooter?” Ray spoke up. “He shot all of the people inside as soon as he walked in. If we trap all of the ghosts after he kills everyone…”

“Then there is a possibility that we may die.” Egon answered with a bleak voice. “Permanently.”

“Ummm, guys?” Winston spoke up. The other three turned to see him kneeling on the floor.

“What’s up, Zed?” Peter asked.

“I can’t find part of the locket.” Winston answered, checking the carpet more thoroughly.

“What?” Egon demanded flatly.

“I’ll stick by the holy water and check my reflection. If anything happens, I’ll give a shout.” Ray offered as he walked to the front of the church.

Peter nodded absently as the pair hurried to Winston’s side. “Okay, Winston, now where’d you see it last?”

“It was right here. I found this half when Ray fell that first time over there.” Winston pointed at the carpet where it was still stained with blood. “And I saw the other half fall in front of the altar.”

Egon quickly scanned the floor with his PKE meter after fiddling with some of the buttons. “It’s over here!” He spotted a tiny piece of gold flickering in the light of one of the stained glass windows and rushed over to pick it up.

“Guys?” Ray called to them. The three turned to see the occultist looking into the font of water. “My eyes are changing color again.”

Egon hurried back to Winston and Peter, Winston pulling out his half of the locket and trying to fit the two together.

“Lemme guess.” Peter gritted a smile. “It needs a little pin to keep the two halves together.”

“I’m afraid so.” Egon answered with a sigh of exasperation.

Part4
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