#and last night my friend was like. bruh you have shingles

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

.

[ghostly-cabbage]

Frigid (Chapter 3)

Genre: Horror, Angst, Enemies to Friends

Chapter Rating: M (Language, Underage Drug Use)

Word Count: 5,326

AO3  FFN

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Dear old Dad got home late that night while Wes and Kyle were tucking into a plate of pizza rolls. Wes heard the door open and his Dad's voice from down the hall.

"Tell Roger that it doesn't matter, whatever it takes, Mr. Masters expects it to get done." He walked past the living room without so much as a glance at the two of them. His voice faded down the hall punctuated by the sound of his door closing.

Wes snorted and stuffed another pizza roll in his mouth. Stupid Dad with his stupid government job. Why the hell bring them to Illinois just to ignore them? He curled his fingers into the upholstery of their new couch, gripping it until his fingertips ached and the smell from the Ikea warehouse threatened to make him sick. He forced himself to swallow the bite and shoved his plate onto the coffee table.

He got up and went to the kitchen for a capri-sun. If it hadn't been Kyle that bought them, he'd be pissed about that too. His Dad seemed to treat him like he was still in elementary school no matter how old he got.

Wes slammed the fridge door hard enough he heard the dressing and condiment bottles rattle inside. He went back to the living room, the TV illuminating the space in it's flickering light.

He flopped backwards onto the couch, pushing his back into the corner of the sectional, wishing it'd swallow him up. Kyle was watching some alien history documentary. How ghosts could be pure fiction but aliens were "science-fact" was beyond Wes. He rolled his eyes and got out his phone, pulling up his knees.

Instagram was a short reprieve, or it should have been. He scrolled past post after post of his old friends back in California, smiling wide in front of the beach, or the boys at the park playing basketball. Over there they hadn't even started school yet, and wouldn't until the end of the month. To say he envied them was a gross understatement.

"Are you gonna eat those?" Wes glanced up over his knees to see his brother pointing at his abandoned pizza rolls.

"Go for it," he said. Kyle scooped up his plate and went to town. Wes really should be doing his chapter reading for History, but the thought made him want to set something on fire. A part of him felt like he should be grateful for a fresh start after the divorce, but another part of him wanted nothing more than to dig his heels in. Just because his Mom was a liar and his Dad was an asshole didn't mean they had to move across the country, why didn't they get that? Maybe they did, and just didn't care.

He scrolled on his phone long enough for Kyle to watch another episode. By the end Wes had been sitting and refreshing his feed over and over again. He watched the buffer wheel spin, screen go white and the same post as last time take its most recent position at the top. He pulled down again, and watched the wheel spin for the millionth time.

"Dude, this is just depressing to watch."

He glanced over at Kyle, narrowing his eyes. "Got nothing better to do." It was a lie and they both knew it. Kyle flicked the TV off and stood up from the couch.

"C'mon." Kyle came to stand in front of him expectantly.

"What?"

"Let's go have roof time."

Wes made a face. "You're so weird, don't call it that. Cringy as fuck, man."

Kyle grabbed a pillow and swung it lazily towards Wes' head. "C'moooon lil bro! It's roof time!" He said it in a big brother voice that always pissed Wes off.

"No. Fuck off." Wes held up an arm to shield his head.

"C'mon!" Kyle insisted. "Don't you wanna spend time with your brother?" he pouted. He swung the pillow at him again.

"I'm gonna kick you in the balls."

"Weeeeesslleeeyyyy! C'mooooon."

"Oh my god, you're so fucking annoying." Wes kicked half-heartedly towards his brother. He held up both arms to try and fend off the onslaught of his brother's pillow attack.

"I'll stop if you agree to go sit outside with me, Wes! Surrender, you're out matched, kid!" Kyle picked up another pillow in his left hand, and continued batting at him. Wes tried to bury the beginnings of a smile behind a sour expression.

"You just—Ow, stop— You just wanna go get high, don't you?"

"Oh, absolutely. But you think I'm going to sit out there alone like some kind of loser?"

Wes anticipated his brother's next swing, and snatched the pillow from him. Now it was his turn. True to his word, he kicked a foot out directly into his brother's crotch. Kyle grunted and stumbled back a step, hands going down to grab his groin. Wes capitalized on his opportunity and lunged forward, springing off the couch to tackle his brother to the ground.

They hit the carpet with a loud thud, and became a tangle of limbs.

"Oh it's on, kiddo!" Wes couldn't hold back a laugh as he wrestled his brother. He attempted to push the pillow onto Kyle's face at the same time as his brother was trying to twist his arm around in a joint lock.

"Shut up, you're only a year older than me," Wes said, wriggling out of his brother's grip, and yanking his hat down over his eyes.

"A destined rematch to determine the stronger brother! A tale as old as time!" Kyle fought blindly to get a hold back on Wes. Wes whacked him on the side of the head with the pillow.

"You're a moron," he said without any real venom. Kyle flung his hat away.

"Don't make me purple nurple you like last time."

Wes hit him again with the pillow as Kyle tried to steal it from him. "Try it, bitch, I'll kick your ass."

"I did wrestling for two years!"

"Yeah, in middle school, now you're just lame and out of shape."

Kyle gasped. "Bro, take it back." He twisted the pillow hard to the right and broke Wes' hold on it.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. You're not out of shape, just the lame part." Wes tried to get out of Kyle's reach to escape retribution, but he wasn't fast enough. Kyle got a hold of his shirt, and yanked him into a headlock. It had no real pressure behind it.

"Hah ha! What have we here? Could it possibly be that I win again?"

Wes rolled his eyes and pushed up on his brother's arm to break the loop. "Shut up, stupid-ass," he muttered. They broke apart, and Kyle stood up, offering him a hand. Wes accepted it with a puff. Kyle yanked him to his feet and punched him in the center of his chest.

"Ow."

"Kyle : 1 Wes : 0!"

Wes stopped. "Hey, wait, our score was up in the hundreds! What gives? I was winning you asshole." He'd challenged Kyle to a game of Horse last month and it had been a slaughter to say the least. Kyle was walking towards the stairs.

"Nu-uh, new-state-clean-slate, bro, we're starting over!"

"That's stupid, and I didn't agree to that. You're just a sore loser." Wes trudged up the stairs after his brother.

"Guess you'll just have to wait till our next rematch." Kyle shrugged, pushing into his room with a shoulder. Their rooms shared a wall, Kyle's being the furthest down the hall. They both had north facing windows that had access to the brow of the roof which overlooked the pool in the backyard. Moving from a place with obscene living expenses to the armpit of Illinois had its perks he guessed.

"Pick the challenge then. How about MarioKart?" he offered.

"After last time? No way dude." Kyle went to his bedside table to retrieve a small baggie of weed and his pipe and lighter. Not that their Dad ever checked, but a pipe was easier to hide, and less hassle than a bong. Or so Kyle said. Wes didn't really mess around with the stuff if he could help it. The times he tried made him so paranoid it felt like the end was nigh.

"Ugh, fine, princess. What about Smash?" Wes slid the window open and popped out the screen.

"Best outta five?"

"Sure, tomorrow after school? You can't play worth shit while high."

"Bruh, I'm great at playing while high, makes all the distractions just—" he wiggled his fingers— "fall away."

Wes snorted. "Sure, keep telling yourself that. The AI Pikachu wiped the floor with you." Wes climbed out onto the roof, scooting to the side so Kyle had room to clamber out. Kyle handed him his pipe to hold and followed after.

"No, that's not what happened, okay?" Kyle pointed an accusing finger. "I let that adorable little rat fuck win, because what kind of monster would I be if I destroyed Pikachu?"

Wes rolled his eyes. Kyle settled next to him, hanging his legs over the side and reached for his stuff back. Wes looked up at the sky, leaning his weight back on his hands. It was another clear night, the stars bright and unblemished. He heard the flick of his brother's lighter, but paid it no mind. The lack of light pollution was nice, if there was one positive from this whole situation, it was that.

The wind stirred, a chill laced in that made Wes wish he'd brought his jacket. He was looking forward to the snow. He'd only seen snow once when was ten and his parents took all of them on a skiing trip to Lake Tahoe. He remembered biting it on the bunny hill, and how Kyle laughed so much while picking him up that he'd dropped him more than once. The memory felt brittle, like if he touched on it too much it might break into a million pieces. It always felt like that, remembering what it was like to be happy, to be a family. His parents had broken enough, he wanted this thing, this one little thing to stay whole.

Was it childish to want that?

He glanced at Kyle, who exhaled a plume of smoke, the slope of his shoulders loose and relaxed. For all his flaws and his seriously maddening, downright annoying personality, Wes was glad to have Kyle. After the divorce they'd gotten closer, and he wasn't really sure where he'd be right now without his brother.

Not that he'd ever admit something so fucking embarrassing out loud. Jesus, what was he? He sounded like a Hallmark card.

He rubbed an eye, and laid back, the shingles of the roof cold against his back. The two were in a comfortable silence, Kyle too preoccupied with making short work of the bowl he'd packed to make conversation yet. That was alright with Wes. He was tired and still a little freaked out after today. He knew better than to bring up his run in with the ghost at school to Kyle.

This place was weird, and he had so many questions he felt like he was going insane. First thing tomorrow he was going to ask someone what the hell was going on in this town. He could try and ask the Danny Fenton kid, since his parents were apparently the ghost experts. He rolled the idea around for a few seconds in his head. Maybe it'd be best to ask more than one person. Leave Danny as a last resort.

He was staring at the first stars of Orion as they peaked over the dark horizon. That's when he saw it. His brows furrowed and he sat up.

"Dude, do you see that?" He smacked the back of his hand against Kyle's arm.

"What?" Kyle looked up.

"That!" He pointed. In the sky and getting closer was a glowing streak.

It wasn't a star, or a comet, that was for damn sure. It was flying in a wide circling pattern. It was fast, whatever it was.

Kyle gasped next to him. "Holy shit, a UFO." Kyle fumbled around to try and get his phone, in his haste he sent his lighter tumbling down the roof and off the edge. Wes trained his eyes on the shape as it got closer, squinting. Kyle had gotten his phone and had started recording, feverishly commentating about the time, place, and the appearance of an "alien craft".

Wes leaned forward, straining his eyes. As the shape wound closer it looked… almost humanoid? It seemed to move in a thoughtful systematic way. Like it was covering specific ground.

"I'm so putting this on my Snapchat story," Kyle said. He turned his phone towards Wes. "Say hi! In case it goes viral."

"Dude, stop." Wes pushed his brother's phone away from his face and back towards the… well. UFO.

As suddenly as it had appeared, it sharply changed direction and flew away, before blipping out of existence entirely. It hadn't gotten close enough to identify, but Kyle seemed to only care about his video and nothing else. Wes sat there thoroughly confused, staring at the point in the sky the shape had vanished into thin air.

"Clearly this is evidence of alien superior technology. The fact it sped up and disappeared so fast means they've cracked flight speeds faster than light, dude!" Kyle buzzed. He was tapping on his phone, already sending the video to everyone he knew.

Aliens, really? Could this day get any weirder?

"Look, look, Hannah, snapped me back." Kyle leaned over so they could both see his screen. He opened the Snap, and Wes saw a girl with blonde hair and dark eye shadow. He vaguely recognized her from school, part of Kyle's new stoner group of friends. The video showed just the top of her face as she looked down at her phone. Her eyes were crinkled at the corners.

"Kyle, what the fuck," she laughed. "That's not an alien, doofus. It's clearly a ghost. Probably Phantom. He flies around almost every night." She leaned back and sprayed canned whipped cream directly into her mouth. " 'Aliens'! Oh my god I'm totally telling Jennie." She snorted as she laughed and the snap ended.

Phantom? That was Phantom? The image of the ghost boy from earlier lingered in his mind. Kyle was already recording a video to send back.

"Hannah, obviously you have very little experience with UFO's. I know an alien when I see one and that was an A L I E N. Okay? Don't buy into this ghost conspiracy, it's what people want you to think, but it's probably all aliens! Or beings from like the 4th dimension, I don't know."

His brother's voice sounded too loud. His eyes traced the place where the shape… the ghost had been. He rubbed at his temples with his fingers. Kyle continued arguing with his new local friends, protesting the idea of ghosts. Wes sighed, a headache building behind his eyes.

He nudged his brother with an elbow. "I'm gonna get to bed." Kyle gave him a distracted goodbye and Wes headed back inside, mind swirling with the image of white hair and glowing green eyes.

***

Joy.

His sleep that night had been fitful and interrupted. He didn't have any nightmares, or at least none he could remember, thank God. But there were a few times he could have sworn there was someone standing in his doorway, watching. He shook it from his thoughts by busying himself with his camera.

The final bell for first period rang and with it commenced the beginning of the school day.

Students with no cameras of their own were having some checked out to them for photography class. The teacher told them to check over everything and make sure all previous files were deleted from the memory card, and there were no cracked lenses. He ignored the majority of what was being said.

When he was young he would use his Mom's camera. Just to mess around really, it wasn't like he had the lofty goals of being a professional photographer. But his Mom didn't see it like that. She bought him lenses and his own high-end camera for his 16th birthday. That was before everything fell apart. Before he found out about Emily.

Once the class started going he hoped he'd enjoy it and actually learn something. He was ready to start taking pictures already. Unfortunately, the day's class was all about the different buttons and functions on the cameras, explaining exposure, aperture and manually managing the iso. Uck. Yawn.

Towards the end of class Ms. Fletcher let them have "free time" to explore the options on their cameras on their own. Learn by doing and all that.

"This is way too much all at once," complained the girl next to him. Mia, was her name, if he remembered correctly. She had brown hair, and light eyes, her tan skin suggesting a mixed heritage. She was turning her camera around in her hands like a kid trying to find the on switch on a new toy. He smiled, turning toward her.

"First time using a fancy camera?"

She let out an agitated sigh. "Yeah. I took this class because I thought it'd be easy and I could just, I don't know, take cute pictures of my dog or something." She put the camera down on the table, gently, like she was afraid of breaking it despite her frustration.

"Yeah, it can be complicated at first." He lifted his own to inspect it.

"You brought your own, right? That's not a shitty school one."

"Yeah, it's mine. Birthday gift."

Mia whistled. "Pricy, your parents must be loaded."

Wes shrugged a shoulder, "I wouldn't say that exactly."

"Don't be modest, it's okay!" She patted him on the shoulder. "Plus I'm sure however rich your family is, it's nowhere near the Mansons."

"The Mansons?"

"Uh...yeah." She looked confused for a second before understanding flickered in her eyes. "Oh, that's right you're new. Sam Manson, the spooky goth chick that hangs around Fenton and Foley. She's in our homeroom class." She held her pointer fingers up by her ears to mime bat ears.

"Oh, yeah, her."

"She says she doesn't like people knowing even though it's super obvious. Her parents are always in the news for making donations and stuff."

They fell into an awkward silence, and Mia shuffled her feet.

"Well, uh. Tell you what. If you help me with this camera crap, I'll…" She stopped to think. "I'll give you the inside scoop about the school. Help you get caught up and fit in, ya'know?" She held her hand towards him. "Sound good?"

Wes would have helped her out even if she hadn't offered to keep him in the social loop. It could be useful, especially for a few things in particular.

"Deal." He shook her hand, a little surprised by her grip strength.

"I'm not as popular as Paulina and Star but I still have an ear to the ground. So if you want to know who's single or who can write your english essay on the cheap: I'm your girl." She pulled her hand back to jab a thumb at her chest for emphasis.

Wes chuckled. "Thanks. I actually do have some questions."

"Shoot."

"This Phantom ghost, what do you know about him?"

She looked surprised, before she smiled. There was something in her expression that Wes couldn't place.

"Phantom? Really?" She shrugged. "Alright, I see you." She scooted her chair closer to his. "Phantom showed up freshman year, no one knows why, but since he popped up he's been saving Amity from all sorts of ghosts." She said it like it was the most normal, perfectly sane thing. "Not only is he hella cute but he's also basically a hero."

Wes frowned in confusion. That wasn't at all what Mr. and Mrs. Fenton had said. "Why would a ghost help people? What's he get out of it? Also, isn't he… you know. Dead? Isn't it kinda creepy to have a crush on him?"

"How should I know? And dead or alive, he's still a total heart throb around here, get used to it." She sighed, looking fed up with his lack of understanding. "Listen, all I do know is that if an evil ghost is breathing down your neck your only real hope in this place is Phantom. Really, ask anyone." Wes' thoughts drifted back to his brush with death yesterday..

"You shouldn't be telling people the fantasy version of things, Mia," came a cold voice. Wes jumped, turning to look at the girl looming over them. Her arms were crossed over her chest, curly hair back lit by the fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling. Fantasy version? What was Valerie talking about?

Mia's face went from warm and open to closed and stand-offish. She crossed her legs and sat back in her chair.

"Oh come on Valerie, we all know you're not a fan of him, but you could at least try and be reasonable."

"Reasonable? Don't listen to her new kid," Valerie jabbed a finger towards him, "if there's one thing Phantom is good at, it's manipulating the public perception. Don't be fooled like the rest of this school, Phantom will ruin your life without an ounce of remorse."

Wes blinked, caught off guard by her ferocity. In chemistry she seemed like a perfectly normal, kind girl. He made a mental note not to get on her bad side.

Mia made a dismissive sound in the back of her throat. "He wasn't asking you Valerie, he was asking me. Butt out."

Mia and Valerie glared hard at each other, neither backing down. It went on for what felt like ever. Wes was afraid he was about to end up right in the middle of a cat fight. But eventually, Valerie let out a sound of disgust then turned and stalked off back to her table. Mia watched her go, gaze steady. Once Valerie sat down, Mia relaxed and let out a breath.

"God, she really needs to get that stick out of her ass."

"What the hell was that about?"

"Apparently freshman year her Dad lost his job and she's convinced it was Phantom's fault." Mia uncrossed her legs, sitting more casually again.

"Was it?"

Mia looked annoyed. "I don't know, I wasn't there." She ran her fingers through her hair, taking a small swatch and braiding it absentmindedly. "Listen, people have different opinions... but Phantom saved my life." It was small and serious the way she said it, like it was a confession. "And not just once but on several occasions. It's fine to ask questions, I don't blame you. But just wait and watch, then decide for yourself." Before Wes could say or ask anymore, the bell rang. Mia started collecting her stuff.

"See you tomorrow, Wes," she said brightly, as if the seriousness from before was just a figment of his imagination.

Sixth period rolled around and Wes was ready for the day to be over with already.

In his previous classes he'd asked other students here and there about the ghosts, and even if he didn't directly ask about Phantom, the conversation eventually led there anyway.

"Uh, yeah. Tomorrow." He watched her go, getting up and gathering his own belongings.

***

He did regret asking Star during lunch, which seemed to have summoned Paulina from the aether. She went on almost the entire lunch period about how her and the ghost boy were "meant to be" and how cute he was, with his snow white hair and tanned skin. Wes was debating faking a family emergency to get away from her. Talk about obsessed.

He shook his head at the memory and closed his locker.

He started walking down the hall, daydreaming about whatever gourmet frozen dinner him and Kyle would have later for dinner. He was about to turn the corner down the hall towards the chem room when he heard a raised voice.

Next up: Chemistry. At the thought he deflated further. He'd totally forgotten about the quiz today. Damnnit, Fenton.

He started walking down the hall, daydreaming about whatever gourmet frozen dinner him and Kyle would have later for dinner. He was about to turn the corner down the hall towards the chem room when he heard a raised voice. 

“Hey Fentina, watch where you’re fucking going.” He turned towards the sound to look. The halls were clearing, there being only a minute or so till class, but that didn’t stop the few scattered people from stopping to idly watch Dash Baxter slam Danny Fenton against a locker. Wes couldn’t help but wince. From the sound alone he’d guess that was going to leave a bruise. 

“You might be taller now but that doesn’t mean I won’t still flatten you, got that?” Dash announced. He was clearly making a show of it. Wes wondered why. Fenton was definitely the lowest on the social ladder, why would someone like Dash need to establish his power over someone who had none? Wes shifted his weight, remembering that trying to apply logic to bullies was a losing battle. 

Danny though… He seemed completely... unfazed. He looked at Dash like an overworked retail employee looked at a raving customer. The dark bags under his eyes and the uncaring air he had coupled with his black hoodie and torn jeans made him look like an emo band's wet dream. 

“Got it, now can we all get to class, please? I’m trying not to be tardy as much this year,” Danny said. Dash leaned further into Danny’s space. 

“Dream on, Fenton,” Dash leered. He leaned back and let Danny go. He made to leave, or at least Wes thought he was. Danny seemed to think so too. Which meant he was caught off guard when Dash turned and punched him in the stomach. Even from a few paces away, Wes heard the air rush from Danny’s lungs. He staggered a bit, arm wrapping around his midsection. 

Dash laughed and walked off, flexing an arm to his football team buddies who joined in as they made their way down the hall like a pack of hyenas. 

As if that was the cue, everyone that had stopped to watch went back to their own business, as if nothing happened. Wes didn’t know what to think at that moment. He knew everyone called Danny a loser, and he hadn’t exactly gotten along with the guy himself but… That felt like a step too far. He couldn’t help but pity the poor dude a bit.

 It had been a long time since Wes was the one pushed around the school yard. He remembered what it felt like though, and he had never been in a rush to expose himself to the kind of treatment again. In fact he’d done just about anything to keep himself from the bottom. He’d done his fair share of looking down on losers and saying cruel things to be accepted into the throng of popular kids in California. He wasn’t proud of it, as he got older he realized that. It made his stomach clench with guilt and shame. 

He’d have never done what Dash just did though. 

Wes watched Danny lean a shoulder against the wall of lockers and catch his breath. He glanced around, and when he was satisfied that no one was still watching, he straightened, took a breath and rolled a shoulder, nonchalant. 

Wes felt his brain stutter and stop. 

Uh. What? 

Just a second ago Danny was writhing in pain the way someone just punched in the gut would, and the next he was acting like he was fine. Like he’d just got done with a leisurely jog.  

At this point Wes was starting to wonder if he was being gaslit by this whole school, what the fuck? 

He watched Danny put a book into his locker, and then lock it up. He started down the hallway, no evidence he was in any pain or struggling for breath what-so-ever. Wes turned and walked towards the classroom. He didn’t want Danny to know he’d been watching from around the corner. 

Wes sat down, spreading out his stuff, trying to make it look like he'd been there for ages. A few seconds later the tardy bell rang. Another few seconds after that, Danny walked in. 

“Mr. Fenton, you’re late—”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t make eye contact with the teacher, just made a beeline for their desk and slumped into his seat. Mrs. Merriweather looked ticked. 

“Pick up your tardy slip at the end of class young man.” 

“Yep.” 

Even Mrs. Merriweather seemed taken aback by Danny’s odd energy, but she said nothing else. Instead she jumped into the lesson plan for the day. 

Wes wasn’t paying attention. He was looking at his lab partner, still trying to figure out what he’d just seen. Maybe Danny had just been acting like it was worse than it was to… what, get sympathy? Have Dash back off quicker? Both seemed likely, logical. It must have been, what else could it be? 

Danny seemed to feel his eyes on him. He turned to Wes, his blue eyes sharp and angry. 

“What?” he snapped. 

“Nothing. Sorry.” Wes disengaged, looking down at his blank notebook page. He heard Danny sigh, but he didn’t know what sort of emotion drove it. 

Class dragged on, and they didn’t say another word to each other the entire period. But that wasn’t too surprising, considering Danny left in the middle of class. 

They’d just got done taking their lab safety quiz, and were handing them back when out of the corner of his eye Wes saw Danny shiver. He also saw a flash of… what looked like smoke? Vape? Was Danny seriously vaping in class? 

“Fuck,” Danny muttered under his breath and his hand shot straight up into the air. “Mrs. Merriweather, can I use the bathroom before we start the lab?” Danny’s typically tired and slouched posture had gone ramrod straight, and the air around him felt desperate and panicked. Mrs. Merriwether studied him seriously for a second, before she relented. 

“Alright, don’t take too long.” 

Danny scrambled from his seat and out the door. It left a weird silence in the classroom.

O….kay? That was weird, super weird. He looked around the class. A student adjacent to him caught his confused look and shrugged. 

“He just does that, always has. Some people think he has some sort of chronic illness or something.” 

“Quiet please, everyone. I’m passing out the lab instructions and then we’ll be getting started.” 

Wes couldn’t help but look towards the door where Danny had disappeared seconds earlier. He felt pretty safe in saying not only was the town weird, but everyone in it.  But maybe Danny more so than the others.