Room 150
Peter was up in his room, reading over some things, and writing some notes. His place was starting to look more lived-in, at least clutter-wise. He still hadn't gotten around to bother decorating it much yet. The only thing were some pictures of Dana and Oscar, and a couple taken of the guys around the Firehouse, and on busts
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"That's right."
He then got up, and held out his hand, "In that case, there's some things you need to see. I know how this story goes." Johnny hesitated, but then took his hand. Peter clasped Johnny's wrist as their surroundings shifted around them.
Over Johnny's shoulder, there was a bearded man talking to a young boy.
Over Peter's shoulder, there was a dark-haired woman talking to another young boy.
The images shifted to both adults now wearing straitjackets, and being administered shock therapy. One boy slowly grew up as he visited, the other boy was never there. Explainations showed a boy and a man committing the woman, while a woman alone committed the man.
Suddenly, the boys were now men, and there was a parent standing behind each, their hands clasped on their son's shoulders. Sophia Venkman and Herb Smith gazed back calmly at each other.
This is my son, and my struggles, my pain, my yearnings, are now his.
"I can't explain, but maybe you'll understand someday. I pray you
will."
Both parents faded from sight, and the vision faded away. The pair stared at each other for a long time, not saying a word.
But then, now, there was no need.
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