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fandomweekly2024-09-20 05:55 pm
ecto_one_spengler) wrote in fandomweekly2024-09-20 05:55 pm
Entry tags:
[#234] morning routines (Ghostbusters)
Theme Prompt: #234 – Comfort
Title: morning routines
Fandom: Ghostbusters (Egon Spengler Lives AU)
Rating/Warnings: PG (A few swear words) / Implied spoilers for Ghostbusters: Afterlife and even less obvious spoilers for the comic Ghostbusters: Back In Town Issue 1
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Egon takes a morning walk from the Firehouse in late December 2022, contemplating his old routines pre-Summerville. The cold reminds him of better times, and drives him to bring those old routines back.
The variables that make up a typical workday for Egon typically tend to veer away from a category considered "good" by his standards - especially given the type of work he tends to do on the daily.
Stressful enough is Peck getting onto the Ghostbusters' case earlier in the month, with Peck's pressures possibly hampering the ability to pay the gas bill next week. More of his inner stress has found itself on his shoulders in the form of his family's impending return to New York - at least the farmhouse gave them the money to do so. Egon finds himself missing his grandchildren and daughter, just a small amount.
And then there's the return to parapsychology itself - the biggest of the three main hurtles, owing to Zuul's stunt nearly killing him back in the previous year. Egon is surprised the others have given any mind to forgive him for his ill-timed departure in 1993 - well, at least Ray and Winston and Janine. He's certain Peter still secretly wants to punch his lights out, even with Peter's failing arm strength and age-propelled lower height. Egon isn't so sure about Dana's opinion, or that of Louis, the two respective spouses of Peter and Janine - and Callie's opinion is still a mystery considering she mostly tells her therapist, and not himself.
Egon lets out a deep sigh, bitterly regarding the faint taste of his heart pressure medicine still being in the back of his throat. At least Central Park is still about the same as he remembers it being in the past. Now it's late 2022 in the present, maybe a week away from Hannukah and Christmas, but the leaves and chilly cold air are virtually still unchanged from 1992. Sure, the local ambient temperature is not as cold like his memories, but it is enough to make Egon sit down slowly on a park bench, faintly wheezing from the walk to Central Park's very own Cop Cot.
(Maybe.. he really ought to stop doing so many of these damn walks by himself like this. Ray's still very concerned Egon's weakened legs will not take the walking this early in the morning and this late into the season, but damn it all, he needed this again.)
Egon flexes his wrinkly fingers within the bounds of his thick coat pockets, contemplating the contents (like his wallet, which he never puts his money in, and the calculator and his current personal diary). He allows himself the barest of smiles at noting he's got just enough money otherwise for some cocoa.. at least he hopes that is the case.
Egon quietly recalls with a good deal of inner happiness a habit he and Ray used to have in their Columbia days, going to a cheap place in the winter to grab hot tea and coffee for when neither man felt up to futzing with Peter's ancient coffee brewer, their excuse for morning dates. The exact restaurant names and appearances have, by now, escaped Egon's memories. It isn't that much of a stretch - he is approaching his eighties. How lucky, he regards himself mentally, before he realizes he's left his damn gloves back at the Firehouse.
"..Really?" Egon brings his trembling, freezing hands together, irritated once he confirms his hands are barren of cloth. "Classic.. Spengler, you damned idiot."
At least he does have the money for his goal.. It is not much in the slightest - a paltry sixteen dollars. A total disappointment, but it will have to do.
Hoping that cocoa will not cost him enough to prevent himself from going home the way he came, Egon gets up and opts not to use the cracked Samsung phone Trevor shoved on him as an early Hannukah gift, not really trusting the navigation application that is meant to have been installed. (Not that Egon remembered to pay his phone bill yet..)
Long walk be damned, he figures, to have an earlier hot chocolate to warm his freezing icicle hands. Perhaps he'll pick up something for Ray as well - and surprise said man at Ray's Occult Books, since he's certain Ray will be awake and opening the shop by now despite it being a Saturday.
Egon does his best to pace himself, and he thinks back to a French cafe he vaguely remembers Domingo (no, Ms. Lucky, he reminds himself) raving about recently. 8am, just about, is when he finally gets to Ladurée. It looks.. honestly, too expensive in the usual terms for him. Determined still, Egon enters and looks over the menu semi anxiously, regretting not bringing his cane along and hoping to hell he's going to have five more dollars for the metro card on him.
...Just barely enough for the lot, as it turns out. Already, Egon smiles again once he's walking, thinking instead of Ray's newest shipment, and so he recalculates, holding Ray's tea and sipping at his cocoa whilst he redirects to the ever-familiar 68 St-Hunter College subway stop, humming faintly to himself. Some time later, he approaches, still humming.
Ray looks surprised at the door bell's jingling, his head snapping up to look. "Oh- morning, Spengie."
"I got this for you." Egon hands over the lightly sweetened tea once he's fully inside.
"Hm.. Thanks," Ray replies gratefully, leaving the bounds of the glass counter. "New cafe this time?"
Egon holds his cocoa with both hands to warm them. "I.. thought you might appreciate it. Ms. Domingo said it was a good cafe."
"Thanks again. You wanna see the new books for the month?" Ray gestures to some boxes near the entryway, grinning.
"Of course. I assume you've got a new project?" Egon looks with genuine interest, walking to Ray.
Ray squats down near a box and opens it with a box cutter. "Yep! Went back to Wiccan studies. Lemme tell ya what I found.."
Egon listens contentedly as Ray goes on, helping unpack the boxes, and he slowly feels his stress ebbing away along with the city noise outdoors.
The End
Title: morning routines
Fandom: Ghostbusters (Egon Spengler Lives AU)
Rating/Warnings: PG (A few swear words) / Implied spoilers for Ghostbusters: Afterlife and even less obvious spoilers for the comic Ghostbusters: Back In Town Issue 1
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Egon takes a morning walk from the Firehouse in late December 2022, contemplating his old routines pre-Summerville. The cold reminds him of better times, and drives him to bring those old routines back.
The variables that make up a typical workday for Egon typically tend to veer away from a category considered "good" by his standards - especially given the type of work he tends to do on the daily.
Stressful enough is Peck getting onto the Ghostbusters' case earlier in the month, with Peck's pressures possibly hampering the ability to pay the gas bill next week. More of his inner stress has found itself on his shoulders in the form of his family's impending return to New York - at least the farmhouse gave them the money to do so. Egon finds himself missing his grandchildren and daughter, just a small amount.
And then there's the return to parapsychology itself - the biggest of the three main hurtles, owing to Zuul's stunt nearly killing him back in the previous year. Egon is surprised the others have given any mind to forgive him for his ill-timed departure in 1993 - well, at least Ray and Winston and Janine. He's certain Peter still secretly wants to punch his lights out, even with Peter's failing arm strength and age-propelled lower height. Egon isn't so sure about Dana's opinion, or that of Louis, the two respective spouses of Peter and Janine - and Callie's opinion is still a mystery considering she mostly tells her therapist, and not himself.
Egon lets out a deep sigh, bitterly regarding the faint taste of his heart pressure medicine still being in the back of his throat. At least Central Park is still about the same as he remembers it being in the past. Now it's late 2022 in the present, maybe a week away from Hannukah and Christmas, but the leaves and chilly cold air are virtually still unchanged from 1992. Sure, the local ambient temperature is not as cold like his memories, but it is enough to make Egon sit down slowly on a park bench, faintly wheezing from the walk to Central Park's very own Cop Cot.
(Maybe.. he really ought to stop doing so many of these damn walks by himself like this. Ray's still very concerned Egon's weakened legs will not take the walking this early in the morning and this late into the season, but damn it all, he needed this again.)
Egon flexes his wrinkly fingers within the bounds of his thick coat pockets, contemplating the contents (like his wallet, which he never puts his money in, and the calculator and his current personal diary). He allows himself the barest of smiles at noting he's got just enough money otherwise for some cocoa.. at least he hopes that is the case.
Egon quietly recalls with a good deal of inner happiness a habit he and Ray used to have in their Columbia days, going to a cheap place in the winter to grab hot tea and coffee for when neither man felt up to futzing with Peter's ancient coffee brewer, their excuse for morning dates. The exact restaurant names and appearances have, by now, escaped Egon's memories. It isn't that much of a stretch - he is approaching his eighties. How lucky, he regards himself mentally, before he realizes he's left his damn gloves back at the Firehouse.
"..Really?" Egon brings his trembling, freezing hands together, irritated once he confirms his hands are barren of cloth. "Classic.. Spengler, you damned idiot."
At least he does have the money for his goal.. It is not much in the slightest - a paltry sixteen dollars. A total disappointment, but it will have to do.
Hoping that cocoa will not cost him enough to prevent himself from going home the way he came, Egon gets up and opts not to use the cracked Samsung phone Trevor shoved on him as an early Hannukah gift, not really trusting the navigation application that is meant to have been installed. (Not that Egon remembered to pay his phone bill yet..)
Long walk be damned, he figures, to have an earlier hot chocolate to warm his freezing icicle hands. Perhaps he'll pick up something for Ray as well - and surprise said man at Ray's Occult Books, since he's certain Ray will be awake and opening the shop by now despite it being a Saturday.
Egon does his best to pace himself, and he thinks back to a French cafe he vaguely remembers Domingo (no, Ms. Lucky, he reminds himself) raving about recently. 8am, just about, is when he finally gets to Ladurée. It looks.. honestly, too expensive in the usual terms for him. Determined still, Egon enters and looks over the menu semi anxiously, regretting not bringing his cane along and hoping to hell he's going to have five more dollars for the metro card on him.
...Just barely enough for the lot, as it turns out. Already, Egon smiles again once he's walking, thinking instead of Ray's newest shipment, and so he recalculates, holding Ray's tea and sipping at his cocoa whilst he redirects to the ever-familiar 68 St-Hunter College subway stop, humming faintly to himself. Some time later, he approaches, still humming.
Ray looks surprised at the door bell's jingling, his head snapping up to look. "Oh- morning, Spengie."
"I got this for you." Egon hands over the lightly sweetened tea once he's fully inside.
"Hm.. Thanks," Ray replies gratefully, leaving the bounds of the glass counter. "New cafe this time?"
Egon holds his cocoa with both hands to warm them. "I.. thought you might appreciate it. Ms. Domingo said it was a good cafe."
"Thanks again. You wanna see the new books for the month?" Ray gestures to some boxes near the entryway, grinning.
"Of course. I assume you've got a new project?" Egon looks with genuine interest, walking to Ray.
Ray squats down near a box and opens it with a box cutter. "Yep! Went back to Wiccan studies. Lemme tell ya what I found.."
Egon listens contentedly as Ray goes on, helping unpack the boxes, and he slowly feels his stress ebbing away along with the city noise outdoors.
The End
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