#poor wes

[satoshy12]

It took a while to notice, but Batman, like other heroes, noticed that there were fewer villains? So Batman tried to find out why, but in the end it was the Joker who told him.

The Joker:" Ah, I will not be a cheat like the rest, Batman. They found a new hero and moved on, but I stayed loyal". Batman learns that most of his not-so-evil villains have left their city to join the new hero.

+ Amity Park looked at the new people and just accepted them. They always had them in their city, from day one.

Danny likes to fight them! They're fun, and ironically, they make sure people don't get hurt when he fights Ghost.

+ The Rouge, like the little Hero. He has no idea about the outside world, which the town has made sure stays that way, and people treat him normally. Just don't attack them and we don't care about your past. Get a new job or not. Live well.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - I Wasn’t Made For The Weight Of A Soul

For: @things-i-cannot-do-in-amitypark @londonfogwitch @idiot-cheesehead-archenemy @lexiepiper @uniasus And calypso_is_here

Wes has always felt he was a bit strange, but after a near-death encounter, he uncovers a totally different kind of Amity Park secret. With some ‘help’ from Phantom- who is actually Danny Fenton and it still annoys him no one realizes this- Wes struggles to understand who he really is and whether or not his feelings and choices truly belong to him.

GHOST

Chap. 1:

I Tried To Belong In Your Flesh And Bone World

Wes knew he wasn’t a normal kid, especially since everyone else was apparently completely blind to the obvious. But there was signs that something else just wasn’t right with him, physically. At first he just thought he might have been born with some weird condition, one uncommon enough that it wasn’t diagnosed when he was young, and since whatever it was didn’t really seem to be hindering his life he chose to ignore it; also he was far too focused on exposing Phantom for needless distractions.

He should not have ignored it.

The first sign was the silence. Not the normal kind. Not the soft hush of late-night streets or the way the house went still when everyone else was asleep. This silence was… an absence, he supposed?

He noticed it when he tripped during yet another ghost attack where he’d been chasing after Phantom to try and catch video proof of his transformation, or of him saying something that was too obviously about his human life. Anyway, he had hit the pavement hard, shoulder first, breath knocked loose. He’d braced for the pain for a second, there should’ve been pain. Sharp, blooming, undeniable. Since he was pretty sure he hit his shoulder hard enough to dislocate it.

But there wasn’t.

There was just a sort of delay, as if the world had to buffer for a second. Leaving him lying there, staring at the cracked sidewalk, waiting for the hurt to arrive, but it never did. He was also seemingly entirely uninjured, which wasn’t right; he was positive he should’ve had at least one very nasty bruise. Yet… nothing.

And it left him wondering when was the last time he could actually remember getting hurt? A singe from an ecto-blast perhaps? Or that ache in his bones from getting hit by a ball of a more physical chunk of ectoplasm? He… can only think of ectoplasm-related examples.

“Dude, you good?”, Kwan had asked him later, kicking Wes’s shoe.

Wes had just responded automatically, still mentally trying to figure out what seemed so off, “yeah”. He’d tried stabbing himself with a fork he found, that hadn’t hurt either… and the prongs bent rather than actually stabbing through his skin. All he had had to show for the attempt was a row of indents that refilled and smoothed back out in a few seconds… it was probably one of the more unsettlingly uncanny things he’s seen before. It was just… a subtle wrongness; much worse than all the ghosts and their dramatic head spinning or popping off limbs. It was like he was a stress ball with freakishly strong bones…

Kwan had squinted, “you look… weird”.

Wes had muttered an absently annoyed, “gee thanks”.

But Kwan clearly hadn’t been joking. He had leaned in closer, with the same look Wes often had when he thought he’d spotted something supernatural about human Phantom again. “No, seriously. You’re doing that thing again”.

That had thrown Wes off a little, “what thing?”.

“You freeze. Like… like your brain crashes for a second”.

Wes had laughed it off; because what else was he supposed to do with that kind of comment?

Because the alternative was admitting that sometimes, when people talked, their words arrived in pieces. Syllables snapping into place a fraction too late. Like subtitles catching up to bad audio.

Because the alternative was admitting that sometimes, Wes could hear something else underneath it all: a faint ticking that he was starting to think wasn’t normal. It was like his brain and body weren’t quite in-sync.

Phantom winds up having to save his sorry ass three days later; as much as it annoys Wes, Danny is actually good at the whole wannabe hero thing.

The sad thing is it wasn’t even a big fight. Just some second-rate level five ghost tossing cars around like tantrum confetti. Wes had simply been in the wrong place, wrong time, and it was entirely his own fault since he’d been following Phantom around. He’d been so focused on Phantom that he didn’t even see the car coming.

One second: street and Phantom up in the sky picking a spectral fist fight.

Next second: metal screaming towards his skull.

Yeah, he was absolutely going to die. Perhapshe’d spent way too much time and effort trying to expose Danny and not enough actually living his life.

Then there’s a blur, and a hand, and then of course the impact. And, stupid goddamn self sacrificial Phantom had thrown himself in there, both of them getting absolutely clobbered by the car.

Danny wasn’t fast enough though, only getting badly nicked, mean while the car crumples against Wes’s body like it had hit a wall or something harder than a wall; knocking him into the ground, literally indenting into the road.

Danny stares at him, looking probably more baffled than Wes has ever seen him, and Wes has seen a lot of Danny’s baffled expressions. Danny blinks, “…you should definitely be dead. Like, as in dead dead”.

“You tell people that a lot? Since you’re so slow?”. Oh zone Danny’s rubbing off on him, he’s using wit to distract from the fact that he is freaking the fuck out, holy shit he should be a pancake. A very dead pancake. How is he even talking? He doesn’t even feel short of breath for someone who should have a crushed rib cage. And he’s getting that… lagging again, Phantom’s voice not lining up with his lip flaps. Even his movements look choppy…. Oh damn Wes’s head should be splattered apart right now. Just a massive mess of brains on the road.

“Hey fuck you, Wes”, Phantom frowns at him more, and fully drops from the air to land on the ground; though to Wes it looks more like he teleported from one spot to another. “Dude, your arm…”.

Wes blinks and glances at his arm, lifting his head and arm out of the dent he made in the road; his arm didn’t hurt so… the sleeves completely torn open, not surprising considering the car. There’s no blood, or forbid exposed bone. What there is is a lattice of sleek black metal, faintly glowing in an… ectoplasmic way under ripped open skin that looks too uncomfortably close to rubber as it’s thicker than he thinks skin is supposed to be. Wes’s stomach drops, what the hell?

Okay. He… this is something he needs to figure out, without Phantom being all weird on him. So he does the only thing he can think of and books it. Feet hitting pavement in perfect, rhythmic impacts. Noticing that it’s… too perfect, too even. No stumbles, no slips, no favouring one leg over the other. He was just crushed by a car and yet he’s running like an athlete…

Phantom sputtering, “W-Wes wait! Goddamnit!”, then sighing very loudly. Wes barely hearing his last comments of, “good going, Fenton, you scared away your stalker and not in the good way. Fuck my life”.

Wes books it all the way home, bursting in through the front door, eyeing the picture frames on the walls. Now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t quite remember the last time he talked to either of them. Moving to the closet to grab fuck tape, wrapping it around his arm to seal the wound shut; he probably can’t get infections…

Shaking his head and heading down to the basement; he’s been told, more than once, that the basement was off limits. But maybe where he wasn’t supposed to go would be where he’d get answers, answers about why the heck there’s glowing metal in his arm. About why he’s so durable. About way the world stutters some times. He’s looking for something, anything really.

The door’s locked, because of course it is. Perhaps he could go snooping through his dad’s study for the code, he was damn good at snooping. But… his hand sort of twitches, taking a shot in the dark he takes a mental back seat and stares at his arm and hand moving of its own accord; typing in the code for him.

What the actual fuck. Perhaps he should have dragged Danny along, he was the one good at actually dealing with weird shit. Wes just studied weird shit, namely Danny; but he never tried to actually deal with weird shit beyond trying to tell other people about Danny’s weird shit.

The basement- or rather the lab lights flicker on with a low hum. Okay… alright, this is just great. Guess his parents were mad scientists or something. Wonderful. Danny was supposed to be the one with crazy scientist parents, not him. And he knows he’s gonna have to tell Danny’s Phantom ass about this, because ugh, again the guy was actually good at the hero thing and it would be pretty stupid of him to hide crazy scientists from him. Partly because he didn't want to deal with Phantom being legitimately pissed off at Wes when he did eventually find out, and partly because he'd feel like shit if he knew about this and did nothing and someone got actually hurt. He wanted Phantom to be honest with the town, he wanted people to stop calling him crazy for speaking the truth, he wanted Danny to actually help the town with its ghost problem by being actually honest with everyone including all the anti-ghost morons. How Danny could just sit on the bombshell that was halfas, he does not understand; obviously ghosts were more like humans when a ghost could be literally half human. But what Wes did not want was for people to get hurt.

Moving to stand in the middle of the room, “okay Wes, use those detective skills of yours and find this places secrets”; approaching a computer and typing away. It’s ridiculously easy to hack in, as if whoever- his parents or parent didn’t expect anyone to be able to get down here to even try hacking in. Which was stupid considering how often people/ghosts literally phase through walls in this town.

Unless… unless the walls down here where ghost proof… That’s just more concerning though.

Multiple screens light up around him, showing images of… himself. Dozens of them. Dozens of him.

Blueprints. Schematics. Cross-sections. His face peeled back in layers of wires and green-tinted steel.

PROJECT: WES WESLEY UNIT

PURPOSE: PSYCHOLOGICAL DISRUPTION PROTOCOL

TARGET: DANIEL JAMES JANUS FENTON PHANTOM

Almost annoyingly, stupidly, the first thing his mind goes to is noting Danny’s second ‘Janus’ middle name. Before shaking himself off and staggering back from the screens. Lifting his hands up and staring at them, “I… what”, he feels like he should be shaking but he’s not, of course he’s not, he probably can’t, “I’m… a project”.

What..

How…

How should he even begin to deal with this? What should he do?

Clenching his hands and stomping back over to the computers, he has to look into this. Needs to know if his thoughts are his own. If his interest and drive to expose Danny is actually his own and not just something programmed into him. Has to know if any part of him is human, alive, at all.

There’s lots of files, videos, documents, programs. The files and programs he’s least likely to be able to make quick sense out of, he doesn’t exactly know how much time he’s got to snoop, so he goes for the videos first. Frowning, muttering to himself, “find the one timed around when I’m first sure I have real actual interactions with people, people other than my- the Wesley’s. Shit are the Wesley’s even real people?”, grabbing his head and roughing up his hair in frustration before clicking away some more.

The closest video is around two years old, clicking open the player and sitting down in the chair; putting his elbows on his knees, fingers to his mouth, and staring at the screen.

A man appears on screen, a man Wes recognizes immediately, it’s Vlad… Wes feels like he could smack himself, this should have been so goddamn obvious. Of course the person who made a crazy mad scientist lab and possibly built… well, built him, was the towns semi-local mad scientist. Zone he’s stupid… though, the man might have… have programmed him to not think of that.

Oh god, his mind absolutely isn’t just his own. Has been messed with.

Glaring at the man in his stupid rich suit and sharp smile. The kind of face that had never once been told ‘no’ by any one other than a goddamn teenager. Leaning over Wes’s body- his body just… laying on a metal table. The man nods to himself, “looks like Its activated properly. Excellent”, laughing lightly, “ah how wonderful it is to be a father, again”, standing up straight, “hopefully this one turns out more… agreeable”.

Wes recoiling in disgust, though this confirms that… his ‘parents’ his memories of them, are fake; absolutely fake. The last thing he wants to be is agreeable to this bastard, but now he seriously has to question if he actually has a say in the matter. He’s going to have to look into the program files, have to find out if he’ll ever be forced to act against his own will. Find out if he’s thoughts are just programs or actually something of his own at all. Does he even actually exist?

He really should have just dragged Phantom with him, this is his villain/uncle/god father after all… and apparently Wes’s ‘father’ too, ugh that’s disgusting and frustrating.

Watching video Vlad walk back over to the computers and type away, muttering to himself, “that boy is far too empathic, too protective. That tiresome instinct to care for others. You’ll pester him just enough for him to notice you and get attached, get protective. And you’ll keep an eye on him, oh yes you will”. The video ends and Wes clicks to another. He… wasn’t even made purely for the nut job to see if he could, he was made to be a problem for Phantom…

This time there’s just Vlad, watching the a screen, watching a video feed from the point of view of someone walking, talking to Kwan about the basket ball season and then, Wes can hear his own voice, “you know the only reason Danny gets down from the basket ball hoops when you guys string him up there is because he can float, right?”; with Kwan rolling his eyes at the viewer. Vlad… had or has a video feed to his goddamn eyes. Even the real experiences he’s had aren’t fully just his…

There’s videos of him laughing, hanging with friends, crawling through bushes to track Phantom, the handful of times Phantom’s had to save his sorry ass… Vlad often zooming in on Danny’s face in those scenes, commenting on the annoyed yet fond expressions he makes; Phantom looks notably both more fond and more comically annoyed over time.

Then he finds a video of the lab again, except this time it’s a video of himself talking to Vlad and he doesn’t remember this at all. Video Wes is angry and clearly arguing with the man.

Vlad is eyeing him, “I gave you memories. Personality. Flaws. You’re quite convincing, really. Even you believed it. That’s the beauty of it”.

Video Wes shakes his head, “No. No, absolutely not I remember things. My childhood, my-”.

Vlad cuts him off with a scoff, “fabrications, obviously”, rolling his wrist nonchalantly, “every scraped knee. Every birthday. Every moment carefully written and installed”.

Video Wes narrowing his eyes, “and my feelings? My emotions? Did you fuck around with all that too, you bastard?”.

Vlad looks genuinely interested then, “an emergent side effect. Fascinating, honestly”, crossing his arms and shaking his head, “and really what is it with this tone? Why do all of you have to always wind up so defiant”.

Video Wes laughed darkly then, even sounding a bit broken, “so what? Am I just…”, gestures wildly, “a bomb? A trap? A mild annoyance? And you deserve nothing but defiance, you piece of shit”.

“So crude”, Vlad shakes his head, “you’re a knife. And that boy will pick you up all by himself”.

Wes leans back in the chair and rubs his forehead, glancing around the lab for a camera; he shoots the thing with his personal ecto-gun the second he spots it. Staring down at his knees, on screen him had said ‘bomb’… was there a literal bomb in him? Was he built to goddamn explode, he… that was impressively messed up actually. Eyeing his hands and really looking at them, trying to think about his friends hands and how they look… the ‘veins’ aren’t quite right, there’s no peach fuzz, skins too even actually. It’s all just something pretending to be skin very, very well.

On video Wes snapping, “I won’t? you know, I might think he’s a shit head dick who should stop lying to people, but I’m not going to hurt him”.

“Oh my dear boy, you will, whether you want to or not”.

Wes flinches and gets up, starts pacing a circle in the lab floor. Okay, okay, that’s… that’s not good. That’s horrifically bad. It… that answered how much say he had.

None.

Fuck all.

Diddly squat.

“Damnit, no”, grabbing at his hair a bit, “no, no, no”; and his breathing -however it is that he actually breathes, is there even any point to him breathing? He’s not organic, he doesn’t need the oxygen- picks up rapidly. Sharp and shallow. Bending over and wheezing, “okay, it’s okay. Zone this is fucked. I- okay but the… the feelings aren't programmed”, wheezing again, “and I’m panicking, people panic. Humans panic. And I am definitely panicking. I’m doing a human thing. Okay, okay”.

But the stupid ticking is so goddamn noticeable now, he can’t ignore it if he tried. Putting his hands over his ears and muttering, “just, just stop”. Of course it doesn’t, and he can’t force it to; since it was coming from inside him. Dropping a hand and staring at it shaking, the shaking… is too consistent. It’s less shaking and more twitching, controlled micro movements. “I… I don’t want to be a damn thing. Something someone built for a reason that- that I didn’t choose”.

He… he should get out of here. Find Phantom, and actually ask the idiot for help or- or maybe not. What if Vlad was watching him, watching through his eyes right now? What if Vlad already set in motion whatever he’s planning? Vlad was a ecto-scientist, and a deranged lunatic, he absolutely could make something to genuinely destroy Danny.

Wes rushes up stairs, grabs a jump drive, checks it for bugs, and rushes back down to stick in the computer. Downloading what he can and leaves the lab, almost running up the steps, breathing still wrong but moving. Everything was wrong, everything might not be real. It was suspect, every memory and every thought; he’ll have to literally investigate himself to see how much was real, how much was errors, and how much was just Vlad. At least he knows the feelings aren’t Vlad, that’s not much of a comfort but it’s something. It’s enough, not really, but he’s got to make it work.

Without what Vlad made, he doesn’t exist at all.

Now… now he’s got to figure out what he was… designed to do, how to stop it, how much of him was real, how much Vlad knew about what he’s doing now.

Did Vlad want Danny exposed as Phantom? Why? Or was that always just him? Did Vlad just make him to be a ‘friendly bomb’ but abandoned the idea when Wes started playing investigator because it was more interesting or amusing to the nut job? Did this body have an automatic expiration date? Is he going to… well not die but stop?

Not die.

He can’t even goddamn die.

He’s not alive. Not a being.

The thought that Danny’s probably thought that same things sometimes jars him out of his own head a little.

…

He needs a secured computer.

Phantom finds him sitting on a rooftop mildly twitch shaking and glaring at a laptop Wes stole from Tucker’s locker. If anyone was going to have secured tech, it would be the techno geek sidekick. Wes also knows the guy has a bajillion laptops and pdas and earpieces; since everything got destroyed so frequently. This won’t even be the first time he’s stolen one of the guys laptops.

Phantom landing gently on the roof, “Wes? Buddy? You good?”; oh god he’s talking at Wes like he’s a terrified little kitten or something and is freaking Danny out. “You kinda ran away there? Why’d you do that, bud?”.

They’ve never been ‘buddies’, Phantom’s never called him buddy. How is this concerning the dumbass ghost more than… than Wes or Vlad through Wes or whateverthefuck trying to expose him. Zone he kind of wishes he could stab himself in the leg and actually see blood. Grimacing at the laptop screen, “wouldn’t you run?”.

Phantom blinks, Wes can practically hear him blinking, why is everything so loud now. “If you’re asking if I would run away from probably one of the only people that could actually help with whatever? No, no I- wait shit-”, Phantom glancing to the side, “-I totally would do that. Fucking hypocrite”, looking back to Wes, “uh, did you… at least figure out why your bones are glowing metal?”.

Wes can’t help the flinch that jerks his entire body, glaring harder at the screen. Wheezing a little, “I don’t know-”.

“So the laptops for figuring it out the-”.

Wes scowls, interrupting Danny, “let me finish, zone damnit you’re an ass”, rubbing a hand down his face, “this is- ugh”.

Phantom audibly blinks again, “o-kay”, and cautiously starts walking over.

Wes tensing a bit, blurting out, “I’m something built to hurt you”, mostly in hopes to get the dumbass to stay away in case he… he what? Blows up. He shouldn’t be dealing with this. He should be a normal kid, worried about basketball ball and hyper-fixating on Wikipedia; not wondering if his metal body was a bomb.

Phantom does stop, thankfully, one not shit thing in this shit day. “Ancients fucking Christ, did that shit head clone me again but weirder”.

Wes pauses and eyes the half ghost, “again?”. That was new, he didn’t know about that, Danny’s been cloned before? Is that what Vlad had meant by ‘hopefully this one will be more agreeable’?

Phantom shrugs, “Vlad’s crazy crazy”.

Wes gritting out, “I’ve noticed”.

Phantom pointing at him, “so that’s a yes on Vlad and a probable no on cloning”.

Wes… Wes should stop even mildly attempting to keep Danny out of this, lost cause. “Not clone”. He’d be a shit clone anyways, they look and sound nothing alike, that’s without even touching on the lack of powers…

“Okay”.

Phantom’s still looking at him like he’s going to fall apart, Wes is still twitch shaking, but at least he didn’t come closer. Wes taps away on the laptop, playing that video.

“-I might think he’s a shit head dick who should stop lying to people, but I’m not going to hurt him”.

“Oh my dear boy, you will, whether you want to or not”.

Phantom blinks, “so definitely definitely Vlad. Also, did you seriously confront Vlad? Are you insane?!?”.

Wes grimacing and grumbling, “a year and seven months ago apparently”; and that long ago he hadn’t yet realized how dangerous, and insane, Vlad was. The Wes of now wouldn’t confront that man alone, that was a suicide mission for anyone other than Danny, Maddie, or Valerie.

“Huh?”.

“I don’t remember it”, Wes grimacing deeper, “he deleted the memory”. It was… it was so utterly fucked that his memories could just be… deleted like that. Gone. Lost. Forever. A file folder a mouse moved into the trash bin and then cleaned out. He is a little bitterly proud of himself for apparently figuring everything out so fast. Obviously Vlad did… did something to him to block him from finding out as easily or as quickly or the same way again. Altered what he could see, or altered the way he can think. Maybe just blocked him from thinking certain things without altering how he thinks. Curling and uncurling his fingers a few times to try and not throw the laptop in frustration.

Do his emotions even work like human emotions? How would he even know? How could he?

He can hear Danny blinking again, “that’s… that’s new and that’s fucked up”, sighing and sitting on the rooftop a good distance away still, “so robot then”. Wes’s twitching gets a little worse, glancing at Phantom to glare violently. Phantom puts up his hands pacifyingly, looking more nervous of Wes than he ever has before, “okay, android then, better? I call Red that all the time and she don’t mind”.

That makes Wes pause, right, Valerie, the Red Huntress, she was filled with nano bots, practically half machine. It’s… not the same, not even kind of. She was still a person. A human being. First and foremost. He just… he wasn’t. Clenching his hands, “just shut up, Danny”.

“Shutting up is not one of my skill sets”.

“I’m going to steal all your shoes”.

Phantom actually grins, it’s a wobbly grin but still a grin, “good”.

Wes rolls his eyes, damn that stupid ghost hybrid. He’s… trying to help and it’s working and that pisses Wes off just a little bit. “He has a video feed to my eyes, by the way”.

“That’s… not ideal”.

Wes’s hands tighten on the laptop enough to make it creak, it takes some serious restraint to not just… hurl the laptop at the idiot. But he’s not twitching so frequently now, just once every few seconds, like clockwork. Not randomly, in a timeable pattern. Artificial.

“So why tell me?”.

Wes blinking and looking to the now frowning half ghost, taping a bit to replay the video. “-I might think he’s a shit head dick who should stop lying to people, but I’m not going to hurt him”. Phantom just blinks at him so Wes glares hard, “why would I want to blow you up? Fuck you”.

Phantom quirking an eyebrow, “you’re literally always doing something that could get me dissected so…”, shaking his head, “so he, what, wanted you to explode while I was rescuing you or something? He’s had a millions chances to set that off or whatever”.

Wes grumbling, “wasn’t supposed to have emotions, he’s interested”.

“Oof that’s rough, feelings suck. Vlad being interested also sucks”.

Wes can’t even figure out if he agrees with that first bit. The… feelings are all he’s sure are his, but it’s… they’re… it’s not great feeling things. Things he’s not meant- not built to. That’s probably why he has lags or glitches, the twitching. Does he even want to feel if he’s not even alive? Shaking his head hard, “yeah… yeah”, frowning, “but the emotions are all I know are mine”.

Phantom makes some… noises, “ah- eugh- hmngh- um”, takes a breath, and tries again, “that’s not great either”.

Wes grumbling bitterly, “I probably physically can’t even handle- process emotions”. He was quite literally not designed for it; he’a…. He’s probably filled with errors. Errors he probably can’t do anything about, because what if fixing them or rewriting them or deleting them, deletes him. If he’s just a defective error in a machine.

“Explains why you’re such an irrational git sometimes”.

Wes pauses to glare at Phantom again, “you, are not helping”.

Phantom shrugs, “eh you’re mad at me instead of going down a self destructive existential crisis, so I’d say I am”.

Wes points a finger at Phantom, “that, this, is exactly what Vlad was talking about. So selfless and protective you’ll do something stupid and get yourself blown up”.

“Helping a frienemy isn’t stupid”.

“Yes it is, especially when they’re a walking spy bot and literally a bomb waiting to go off”.

“There’s been lots of chances, doubt it’s an issue”.

“I hate you”.

Phantom shrugs, gestures at the computer, “so let’s make it for sure not an issue”.

“So this is a ‘we’ thing now”.

“Wes, it was literally always a ‘we thing’, regardless of you running away like a little bitch”.

Wes’s eye twitches, irrationally angry, and actually hurls the laptop at the guy this time. Phantom catching it easily, only having to float up slightly, then back down. He starts typing and clicking away immediately and… and Wes feels… exposed, or embarrassed maybe? Violated. Definitely violated.

What’s on there is him, and Phantom’s just… just poking around in it. But Wes refuses to go near him to get it back, especially since Phantom could just fly up out of his reach; so instead he just has a full body twitch and glares at him violently.

Phantom waves him off without looking at him, “I’m not going to snoop or delete shit, shit that I don’t understand. I’m not the tech genius and I’m not that much of an asshole”, humming, “just maybe turn off the internal spyware”.

He… he has spyware, well of course he does, Vlad’s spying through him like a hacked nannycam. Putting his head in his hands, because watching Phantom is just going to rile him up. Wheezing, “I’ve just been unknowingly playing at being real, being human”.

“I know the feeling, man. At least you’re less illegal than me”.

Wes… absolutely forgets about that. Ghosts being ‘illegal’ in ‘the land of the living’. Muttering into his hands, “if the world knew about halfas, about you, that’d probably change”.

“It absolutely would not”.

Wes groans a little, for once he doesn’t really feel like having this argument. Especially because what does that say about his own existence? He’s probably some kind of technological breakthrough. His existence could advance so much technology. But… that… the idea feels like being used as a thing. “At least you know all your memories are real. I don’t know if I’ve ever actually felt anything or if it’s just- just programming pretending really hard-”.

“Okay”, Phantom holds up a hand and eyes him, “pause. Not stopping you just… quick little intermission”, pointing at him, “you, are spiralling.”

“I’m- yeah, obviously”.

“Right, but like, actively. You’re doing the mental equivalent of sprinting down ten different hallways that all end in ‘nothing matters’. We’re gonna slow that down before you metaphorically set the building on fire”.

Wes scowls at him, grumbling, “…I’m not doing that on purpose, and I think I’ve earned being allowed to”.

“Yeah, brains tend to do that. Organic ones, synthetic ones, haunted toaster ones. Doesn’t matter. It just happens to not be a good thing to be doing”, looking back down at the computer, “and- Ancients fuck you really do have a bunch of explosives in you, what the fuck Vladdie”.

Wes just groans audibly at that, the ticking becoming unpleasantly obvious to him again. He… really wants it to go away. How… how much of him is comprised of bomb material? Some prices in his torso? Or all of his ‘bones’? His ‘skin’? Every single time he was around his friends he could have just blown them up.

“Ecto-creaton? Really? Jackass”. Wes looks up when a snowball smacks him in the side of the head, things seem to stop lagging at that; like how a person smacks a tv to make it work right. Phantom continuing when Wes glares at him, “for your information, this might have done a serious number on me, like a year ago? now not so much. Annoying and painful maybe, but it’s not gonna end me”, shrugging and looking back down to the computer screen, “I’d just be Danny soup for a bit and reform eventually”.

Wes hugging his knees to his chest and resting his forehead on said knees, “that’s good, I guess”; he’d still be blown up though, he’d still damage whatever’s around him.

“You only guess that’s it’s good you can’t actually end me?”.

Wes sighs heavily, “marginally good”, and if Danny knows that Wes’s… that his ticking can’t actually end him then so does Vlad. So Vlad probably won’t make him blow up. Probably. “Would… would I survive it though?”.

“I mean… physically? No. Bombs kinda blow themselves up, most of themselves anyways. The ignition or timer might survive, the rest? Naw”. Wes wheezes to himself, while Phantom continues, “but you, as in the person? You’ve got this thing as a back up so, get a new body? A body that’s not just a person-sized spy cam and bomb?”.

Wes exhales heavily, “I hate this conversation and I hate you”, lifting his head and staring out at the city, “who knows how much of me is actually in that, or when I was… was backed up last”, and squeezes his legs a little. The give is… not quite like flesh and muscle and fat; and he’s hyper aware of that fact now.

“Then we give this to Tuck and Tuck figures you out. I suck at this shit and if Vlad, you know, made you able to understand all of this then he’s a fucking idiot. And Vlad, though crazy, is not an idiot. That’d be like making an ai able to write and build itself”.

Wes scowling and turning his head slowly to Phantom, who blinks at him, “huh, well, I guess you are ai. Sam’s gonna hate that”.

Artificial… that’s all he is. This… hurts. He almost feels like crying a little… if he even can cry. Grimacing, “I just realized, I don’t think I’ve ever cried”; honestly, he’s not sure why he felt the need to actually say that. Maybe just to make Danny feel bad.

Phantom winces, “honestly… I could do without crying”.

“What do you have to cry about”.

Phantom quirks a very judgmental eyebrow, “I’m dead? I don’t fit neatly into either species that I’m a part of? The boat load of traumas I have? You try getting cut open without anesthesia and not have nightmares about that shit”; looking back to the computer and clicking a few more things a bit more aggressively than before.

Wes can’t help another twitch, yeah he guesses Danny has gone through a lot of awful stuff. Wes is having a crisis, multiple crises, but Danny’s been through some serious shit. A lot of which Wes has witness and written down… frowning a bit, “right, yeah. And if someone did do that to me, I’d probably just be a bunch of metal and wires”.

“Realistically? Yeah”.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better”.

“Just be glad you can feel. Truths a bitch”, looking up and glaring at Wes, “and not always for the best”. Wes flips him off, and feels a little better for it. Danny smirks, “and you don’t know, the emotions might have overwritten or rewritten the code; if code’s what we’re going with here. And I say this because…”, squinting at the computer, “pretty sure you disarmed yourself”.

Wes frowns, “I tick”.

“Like a clock?”.

Wes rolling his eyes, “yes like a clock”.

“How did you not notice and realize that’s not normal earlier…”.

Wes stands up and kicks some roof dust at the ghost, “oh maybe because I do not have a reference for normal”, pointing at Danny and snapping, “you got to be a human, I! did not! You ass".

Phantom eyes him from the ground, cautious, "that's fair, actually", eyes widening, glancing at the computer and then back to Wes, "and technically, you're only, like, two-ish years old", blinking, "how the hell did no one find you randomly showing up one day weird?".

Wes huffing, "everyone in this town is blind, remember? I've pointed that out nearly every day for... well for my entire existence, I guess".

Phantom chuckles at that and closes the laptop, looking the laptop over, "did you steal this from Tuck? Really Wes?".

Wes scowls, "I know he secures his shit".

Phnatom standing up, "true", and tucks the laptop under his arm and holds the opposite hand out to Wes, "now, since we've established that you're not going to blow up in my arms and I’ve deactivated the remote spy stuff, take my hand. I'll fly us to Tuck's, and he can actually figure this intellectual mess out".

Wes frowns a little, glances down at his torso, then his hands. Looking back to Phantom, "I guess I've got nothing to really lose, do I. Not like I've got a real existing family that'll worry about me. And I won't die if you drop me".

Phantom snorting and rolling his eyes, "no, you'll just leave another person-shaped pothole in the road; which I'll definitely get blamed for. Now come on".

Wes blinks, "'person'-shaped, right", and walks over to let Danny grab him and lift him up into the air. He knew well enough there was no point fighting Danny when he really puts his mind to something. What was the point in even helping him though? He’s nothing, not a being, not a person, not alive. Just circuits and systems.

Phantom doesn't shoot off like a rocket, he takes the flight slow, "you are a person, definitely are. You might not have been meant to be, but you are. Whether you're happy about that, and whether or not you're going to embrace being an android or ai or a machine of sorts, is up to you. Something you'll have to figure out for yourself".

Wes frowns, largely ignoring the wind rushing past them. He's... not really sure what he wants. The sheer idea and fact that what he's not, is human, is alive, hurts more than a bit. Actually owning and openly -with himself- being a... a whatever it's best to call him, feels like he's stabbing himself in his non-existent heart or lungs.

Danny seems to understand his silence, "ignoring it won't work, just saying. And addressing, getting comfortable with, accepting, being this way is not the same thing as being loud and proud about it. The first three you kinda have to do, you'll fuck yourself up real bad if you don't. I would know", Danny shrugs, moving Wes a little as he continues talking, "been there and done that, but you know that, don't you, you weird ass stalker".

Wes stares down at the streets and buildings below them, zipping by. He does know that Danny knows what he's talking about here. He's accidentally, sort of accidentally at least, overheard Danny having more than one breakdown over dying/being dead. And it's not like Danny had any more time to prepare for finding out he was dead than Wes did for finding out he was a goddamn robot.

...

He still doesn't like robot. It's... too soulless, he guesses.

Pressing his lips together, "just so you know, I never kept any of your recorded self fuck ups".

Danny snorting, "gee thanks. I already knew that though, you're a pain in my ass but not a sadist".

"I would have been, if I'd been made to be".

"But you weren't, and you aren't, and now it's more up to you how you're 'made' to be; and that's what matters", sounding a little far off, "regardless, the future isn't as set in stone as you think it is".

Wes... Wes doesn't want to change anything about the... code that comprises him. Doesn't want to accidentally delete or alter something that makes him him. Even if Tucker can make more sense out of it for him, still... It would be too easy to just... destroy his mind. Fix the physical, the bomb issue, and the remote access spyware, trackers, anything like that. Things he shouldn't have to begin with, but does because of a lunatic: a lunatic that he wouldn't exist without. Though he supposes that's not too different from a normal human and their... parents. "... I hate Vlad".

"Welcome to the club, we actually have t-shirts now. Do you want the 'Vlad's a deadbeat dad' version or the ‘Vlad murder attempt survivor’ version or the more standard 'Vlad's a creepy fruitloop' version?".

Wes... doesn't have a good answer for that, so he doesn't respond as they phase through Tucker's window. Wes staggering forwards a bit as he finds his footing, since Danny just let go of him immediately. Danny grabbing Tucker's foot and shaking it aggressively, "wake up, Vlad's sunken even deeper, and we need your tech brain".

Tucker mumbling sleepily, "just take me to his com-", yawning, "computer or whatevers".

"Nope, I brought the problem already. Bomb".

That gets Tucker up immediately, him flailing in his sheets, "WHAT! BOMB! Bomb where!", and looks around frantically; barely even pausing at Wes being in his bedroom.

Danny gestures at Wes, "bomb. He's the bomb", then hands over the laptop.

Tucker shoving on his glasses and opening it up, "congrats that makes no sense, did Wes eat a bomb?".

Wes glaring, "no I didn't eat a goddamn bomb, I'm not stupid".

Tucker shrugging, "it's a fair question, Danny's done it three times now".

"Danny eats forks... have any of you ever seen me eat a goddamn utensil?".

Danny blinks and eyes Wes, "you know, I don't think I've ever actually seen you eat".

Wes opens and closes his mouth, he... he's not sure if he remembers actually eating anytime in the past two-ish years; and everything before then is false, fabricated lies. Scrunching his face up, "oh, oh have I never eaten anything?", turning sideways and gesturing at a wall, "how did I miss that!?!".

Tucker makes a face, "okay, I'm confused", looking to Danny while Wes keeps on making aggressive gestures at nothing, "mind filling me in on why Wes seems to be losing his shit... losing his shit more than he normally is anyways".

Wes turns around and points at him, "shut up".

"Dude, you are so not an example of emotional stability".

Wes twitches again, zone his emotions are messed up, they're definitely wrong or not processing right; and if he tries to fix that, he'll probably just make himself an entirely different person. Phantom cringes, "uh, about that", gesturing at Wes, "Vlad made him, he's two-ish years old, definitely an android not a clone, he's got metal bones and wires and code and shit that’s likely all ecto-infused or ecto-enhanced, he was supposed to blow up and end me at some point when I would wind up saving him in a fight but he developed emotions and Vlad got distracted, and I've now noticed that he squishes more like a needoh than a flesh and bone person".

Wes scowls at him, "thanks, I hate that. Coulda done without that information".

Danny puts a hand to his chest, "gasp! The slueth not wanting new information?!? I'd ask if you're sick, but that'd be impossible", dropping his hand, "and Wes, Vlad probably designed something to make sure you wouldn’t notice your own weirdness".

Wes glares, breathing calming down just a little bit at least, "still".

Tucker open-mouth stares at Wes, who shifts a bit on his feet. Tucker eyeing the laptop and moving his face closer to the screen; Wes is still of the opinion that that feels incredibly invasive. Tucker adjusting his glasses and looking like he's goddamn smitten, "holy shit, okay", shaking his head, "I know I've- hell, we've, mentioned that Vlad's a genius, but this is some truly insane, unhinged, amazing, shit".

Wes cringes, "er, thanks. For the love of everything, stop looking at what's effectively me like some love-sick puppy. I already feel exposed enough as it is, and I still feel ten seconds away from a complete mental breakdown"; and wheezes a little. Turning away to grab Tucker's spinny chair and flopping himself down on it, putting his elbows on his knees and head in his hands; rubbing his face and groaning. He's... he's still way too aware of how wrong his skin is, the way he can actually feel the 'bone' underneath when he's pretty sure that humans can't physically feel their bones from the inside. And the stupid godforsaken ticking... Groaning again, "just... just find a way to make the fucking ticking stop".

Wes mentally bores holes into his hands while Tucker and Danny have a little conversation.

Tucker: "O-kay. Alright. Uh Danny, what's he mean by ticking eactly?".

Danny: "The bomb, Tuck. He means the bomb. Guy needs to be disarmed properly. I already got the remote video feed access to his eyes deactivated, one issue solved, but still... And don't worry about the bomb, it'll just soup me these days".

Tucker: "that's good, Danny-dude. Want me to outright scrap the remote access stuff?".

Wes snaps into his hands, "don't you dare scrap fuck all without explaining exactly what it is to me".

Tucker: "oh yeah, obviously, be a dick move not to. With that, I just mean the tiny access code Vlad put in. Think of it as like a password for a backdoor into your systems. Absolutely zero negatives or side effects with deleting it, just kicks Vlad's access out entirely instead of it just being blocked until he manually resets the password".

Wes sighs and nods into his hands, "fine. I hate this".

Tucker: "I don't know, being a robo-Tucker would be sick as hell".

Danny, sounding very warning, "Tucker... how many times did we all have to have that 'don't be jealous of being a spooky ghost' talk with Sam?".

Tucker: "ah shit, right. Sorry, Wes".

All Wes can really think to say is, "pick any other word other than 'robot'", and groans again. The idea of someone being jealous of this shit absolutely makes him feel sick and disgusted. Like an optional thing someone can just choose to be for fun for a while, meanwhile he's stuck with a metal and rubber body filled with wires and circuits that only has a personality because of a bunch of code and likely errors.

Danny: "Android it is".

Tucker: "uh yeah, Android... Anyway, Danny, there doesn't look to be any code I can mess with to disarm the actual bomb- holy shit, there's a person bomb in my bedroom, why is this my life. So uh, gonna have to do that physically".

Danny: "as in open him up?", the guy sounds physically sick over that.

Tucker: "as in open him up, yeah. Jazz has said exposure could be good therapy, you know".

Danny: "I will feed your PDAs, all of them, to the harpies".

Wes sighs, "is there literally any other option? And could you at least silence the ticking"; if all he can do is get rid of that, he can ignore it, ignore the literal explosive that's a part of the body he's stuck in.

Tucker: "heh, no. Major sorry on that one. And sure, yeah, one sec".

And, as promised, a couple of seconds later, the ticking just... stops. Gone. Completely. Wes blinks into his hands harshly before jerking his hands up and staring at Tucker, "you could have done that from the start, holy shit". It... He... Almost feels too quiet now. How did he never really pay any attention to that constant, incessant background sound before???

Tucker winces at him, chuckling awkwardly, "I was distracted by your beauty". Danny smacks Tucker for him at least. Tucker adding on, "also didn't think it would happen instantly, figured you'd need to be plugged in and sync, or update perhaps, first". Wes just glares harder; he hates that those words apply to him now, that they always did.

Danny frowns, "we need to block whatever computer you got this off of, then, otherwise Vlad could just show up and mess with you".

Oh... Wes hadn't even considered that. Standing up only for Danny to hold up a hand at him, "I'll deal with it, you just stay here and watch over Tucker and the you that’s plugged into the laptop", turning to Tucker, "I'll ring you over the Fenton Fones, just tell me how to lock Vlad out of whatever, or remove Wes from it entierly".

Tucker frowning, "if we're gonna remove him entirely from the main hub, he should have a new one, and not a laptop. Not to mention backups, oh zone, so many backups", turning to Wes, "I've got a bunch of heavily encrypted drives in the fake floor tile box in the left corner. Could also upload you into your own locked, closed-off section of the encrypted and very illegal server space I've got. That way, if the physical hard drives and main hub get obliterated into ash, your everything would be retrievable from the cloud".

Wes blinks, he... should have gone straight to Tucker. "Uh, yeah... yeah, that's probably a good idea". Would that… make him functionally immortal???

Tucker gives him a thumbs up and begins typing and clicking away on the laptop. Danny nods at them, pointing at Wes, "remember, there's a you behind all those ones and zeros", and turns, flying out through the closed window.

Wes blinking, looking to Tucker, "I, uh, guess he'd know, huh?".

"I don't know, Wes. You tell me. The guys had more than a crisis or two over how much of him is just ectoplasm and how much of him really survived that whole dying thing; how much of him his ectoplasm changed. All ghosts are is ectoplasm, that's all they've got, all that makes them them. But there's still a person in all that green goop".

Meaning that if what made him him was some code, a bunch of ones and zeroes, he's still more than just that. It's a bit hard to see it that way. Frowning, "yeah, well, someone can't just up and delete his personality with a keystroke, can they".

Tucker frowns, "not with a keystroke, no", turning back to the computer, "but ghosts are a lot more impressionable than the living, especially while they're a child ghost".

Wes hadn't really considered that, thought about that. Still felt less extreme, more maybe just felt less instant, than the deletion threat to him. Walking over to Tucker, "okay, now what are you doing or looking at?".

"Your nudes".

"I'm going to throttle you".

"Oh no, I'm serious".

Wes glares, "I repeat, I am going to throttle you".

Tucker only chuckles, putting his Fenton Fone in his ear and tapping as he gets a ping signal from Danny. Wes opting to just lay on the floor and stare at the geek's ceiling while Tucker walks Danny though things. It's not like Wes could really give any input here, he can't see what Danny's doing... doing to the 'main' Wes Wesley. All paying attention and knowing is going to do is give him another panic attack, or what he thinks was a panic attack.

At least he knows the weirdo trio is good for keeping a secret; he definitely doesn't want this becoming anything close to Amity gossip... And he understands Danny a lot more now, man, he feels a bit like an ass for trying to forcibly out him. He still says it would be better for the town and probably Danny for him to be more of an open secret, but it was messed up for him to have tried to force that. Especially if he turned out to be wrong about the town and his parents reacting positively to the news; like Danny was so sure they wouldn't.

Today has been a truly awful day, an impressively shit twenty-four hours. At least the ticking is gone, being a bomb still or not. The fact that he basically needs an operation, and probably some parts replaced, to fix that pisses him off more than a little bit. He... doesn't think he can trust anyone to do that to him. Breathing in and out, slowly. He should... attempt at assessing himself, at trying to be comfortable or close to comfortable with this body he's stuck with. Oh, and the next time he sees Vlad in a public place, he's going to kick him in the balls as hard as he physically can.

Spreading his fingers out and wiggling them against the carpet, trying to pay attention to the texture; he can't tell if what he feels is what a human being would feel, and there's no way he'll ever be able to actually compare. But his chest rises and falls, there's movement in his chest mimicking a heartbeat, and he's still here; he's still him. For now, at least.

Tucker speaks up louder, "hey, stop fondling my floor and get up here. Danny's good, and you should know, well, know yourself, I guess. Your codes and programs, the works. Also, definitely all your possible backdoors and security flaws; I can set alarms for all that stuff, but you should still keep your own eye on it. Just keep this laptop, it's a solid one".

Wes shoves himself up off of the floor, slouching a bit before shaking himself off, and joining Tucker by the laptop, "yeah, okay. As if I'm going to even be able to understand every word you say".

Tucker smirks, "I'll dumb it down, don't worry. And it's not like I understand your government conspiracy talk, or Danny's space babble, or Sam going off about plant types and care again, or Valerie's weapons talk. Honestly, Valerie would probably be more helpful with your actual physical body than me; I'm a techy, not a mechanic".

"I am not dealing with any more bullshit today". The fact that he even technically needs a mechanic is disturbing enough as it is; he needs parts and service rather than a doctor.

All Tucker does is snort at that. The two spent nearly the entire night with Tucker pointing out this and that, effectively explaining how Wes worked to Wes, and modifying or deleting an alarming amount of very malicious Vlad stuff from his code, programs, and servers. To say he had a lot of spyware would be an understatement, not to mention multiple failsafes that Vlad could have used to basically destroy Wes from afar. Wes ripped out a lot of hair in stress over this, Tucker convinced him to let him look at his hair to see how the heck an android can continuously grow hair.

Chap 2:

‘Cause You Can’t Fight The Clock Ticking Inside

Danny had cleaned every surface twice, then once more ‘for emotional reassurance’, as he put it, though his hands still hovered like nervous birds over every tool him and Valerie had brought. Wes knows Danny well enough to see the half ghosts panic attack coming slowly over the horizon. The table in the center looks improvised but intentional, a patchwork of reinforced panels. At least that was one way to make it clear that these people don’t go around cutting people open…

‘People’, right. He’s… still unsure if people applies to him.

Wes watching Danny as the guy eyes him, “you know you really don’t have to do this, right? None of us are going to give a shit about you having explosives in you. I mean, my blood’s super corrosive, not much different. You’ve got dangerous insides, I’ve got dangerous insides”.

Wes crosses his arms over his bare chest, trying to not look as jittery as he feels. “I don’t want it deciding when I stop existing. When this body does”. If he does have to get a new body it’ll be hard to not feel like it’s just a shell, like it’s replaceable, like he’s just a copy of an old dead artificial kid.

Valerie kicking the door in as she comes back in, “I feel the need to point out that this is fucked up, Danny”, pointing at him as she pulls on gloves, “first, you tell me that Wes knows not just about you but me too. Then, surprise! Vlad built an android and it’s Wes, and he’s understandably not okay with that. And then, ‘oh by the way he’s also kinda a bomb please help because I’ll curl up on the floor vomiting and crying if I have to vivisect someone’”.

Wes grimaces, “I’m pretty sure vivisection only applies to living things”.

“You’re walking and talking, dumbass, you’re as alive as it gets. Now get on the table before my dad gets home”.

Danny hums, “considering how talkative the dead are, agree to disagree”, rolls his shoulders and looks to Wes, “you really sure, man?”.

Wes gritting his teeth, “yes, Phantom. Besides-”, gripping his arms a little tighter, “-it’s not like I can even feel pain or get an infection”. He’s tried a couple of things to try and see if he could at all: lighting his hand on fire, more fork stabbing, dropped a weight on his foot, and so on. Part of him hates his ‘being thorough’ habit, and it wasn’t so much that he needed to know. He just… was hoping that some part of him would feel pain, even just a little, just an insignificant amount.

Valerie grunting, “and just like Danny, you, need therapy”.

Wes snapping, “oh yeah and what would I even tell them? I’m an engineered spy bomb built by a lunatic in an attempt to kill a pseudo god that can’t tell yet if feeling things is all that makes me?!?”.

“Jesus Christ”. Valerie shakes her head and puts case on her ratty stool, filled with small tools.

Screwdrivers… wire strippers… shears, pliers, a lot of lock picks… stuff that would have no business being used in a human body, in a living body, but were applicable to him. She also thumps a large pair of bolt cutters down loudly.

Danny looks like he’s going to get sick. Wes rather wishes he felt like getting sick, he should feel like that. A human would feel like that. Seeing a massive long pair of bolt cutters, knowing they were going to be used in their insides. Instead all he does… is twitch spastically once or twice.

“Right”, Valerie nods, exhaling, “okay. Here’s the situation”, pointing at Wes, “you’re going to lay down, I’m going to figure out how to get the… skin casing off, and hopefully I’ll only have to push things around rather than cut and reattach anything to get at this bomb”. Wes feels almost like he’s pushing himself through sand doing as he’s asked, part of him would like to be asleep, or turn off, however it worked for this metal body, for this but… he’s far too paranoid to not be conscious while someone roots around in his body. Clipping things. Reattaching things. But what if she snips something and he… just stops thinking? Or feeling? Loses a sense? Either way his ass goes on the table, one foot up at a time and lays down, staring at the ceiling and trying to convince himself that he’ll be fine staring up at that for how ever long this winds up taking them.

Danny grabbing the tablet off of her desk and offering it over with shaking fingers, her grabbing it and fiddling with it. Leaning to show it to Wes, the screen showing an almost ghostly map of his own body. Not quite anatomy, not quite machinery… some awful thing in between.

“There’s a dense cluster here”, Valerie makes a circle around an area that’s differently shaded taking up half of his ‘ribcage’ area and near where a belly button would be. If he had one of those. “Me and Tucker agree that it’s for sure not a part of your core systems. It’s… separate. Walled off. Shielded”.

Wes blinks harshly, turning his head away and staring at the ceiling, “bomb”; he… he really does just have a bomb in his body.

Valeria grimaces at him, “yeah”, turning in Danny, “and before you even ask, yes I can at least try to remove it. You’re manning the laparoscope, yes I have one, it would be a nightmare working on my sled without one, and this would be too”. At least that was something that was commonly used on actual people. “Same reason I brought a long bendable grabber claw”. And there goes any mild comfort he was feeling.

She puts a hand on his torso and twitches herself a little, Wes is just pointedly trying to stare at the ceiling and only the ceiling. Valerie muttering, “this is messed up”, before taking a breath and prodding around at his ‘skin’. He’s… he’s really just letting this happen, letting her do this… Her nodding a little, “you’re getting a belly button, so I can see in there better”.

Wes can partially hear Danny cringing, “congrats I guess?”.

Wes breathes out harshly once, “hey Phantom?”.

“Yeah?”.

“Remember what you said about shutting up not being one of your skills?”.

“Uhh, yeah?”.

“Well don’t learn that skill right now”. If he just sits here, lays here, in silence, he’s going to panic. Going to get twitches. His minds going to start running in paranoid hamster circles.

Valerie muttering, “yeah he is the king of distractions”, then speaking up while Wes feels some pressure on his stomach, “alright, I’m going in”.

Danny very awkwardly clearing his throat, “uh right okay, fuck”. The guy is absolutely not watching, not that Wes can truly blame the asshole for that. “So I don’t know if you know this cause you kinda skipped school which I totally get way too much shit going on right? Ha ha! Anyway I totally accidentally borderline flashed the teachers accidentally teleported into the teachers lounge in my underwear and Lancer spit his tea out on Muranda very funny-”.

Valerie whispering, “oh he’s not going to shut up now”, as Wes can feel her make the first incision on his belly and he clenches his fists; trying to make sure he doesn’t twitch. It’s very hard when he can feel a melt snake being shoved in through his skin, each ridge and little texture of the metal standing out starkly in his mind, as it rubs against his pseudo skin.

“-The mystery meat also came alive again I really don’t know why they keep stocking that stuff it attacks people at least once a month but do they stop? NO it’s almost like the teachers or lunch ladies find the meat madness funny or maybe the LunchLady ghost is asking them to do it just to be a dick to Sam which I can at least understand-”

Oh zone Wes hates meatloaf day- the laparoscope taps against something in him, making a high pitched ting noise; harshly reminding him that he’s metal in there just like the scope. His knee twitches and that stupidly embarrasses him. He knows humans don’t have absolute control over their bodies but he kind of wants that right now, just to power through this and then forget it ever happened. Forget that he was ever a bomb encased in metal and pseudo flesh.

“-Pandora’s started teaching Elle proper sword fighting and holy shit you absolutely do not actually know about Elle-”, Danny clearly distracted himself too well because he cuts himself off with a gag. Wes glancing in his direction, seeing him move a bit further away. “Uh ah anyway fuckmeAncients”.

“Oh suck it up Danny, I’ve barely done anything”.

“Shhh. Shush you. I’d make some graphic descriptions of how that probably feels sliding around in there just to piss you off, but then we’d have at least two freaking out teenagers. Anyway Elle, right, total shit sturer and Vlad owes me so much child support but she does keep stealing and giving me all his fancy guy socks so that’s something and the sword fighting is actually going damn well which makes sense because I am damn good with a sword-”

Danny is absolutely making him itch to have his notebooks right now, fucker is dropping lore while Wes is too indisposed to do anything about it. Zone what an asshole. Even if he’s not going to out him now he’s still studying and noting and ‘stalking’ him.

Valerie’s hand moves, grabbing forceps and a knife, his eyes tracking them till they leave his field of vision. He refuses to even attempt at watching this, maybe later he’ll ask for a play by play just… just not while it’s happening. Valerie speaks up either way, “I need more room to work, and I’ve figured out where your skin seams are, it’ll be easier to get things back together if I use that as a guide”.

Wes gritting out, “that’s great”; absolutely not meaning it.

“It actually is, Wes. And damn your skin is tough”. Wes is goddamn aware of that. “Hey Danny?”.

“And the dewfox hunt is coming u- Hm?”.

Valerie hands back the knife, “reinforce that, I’m gonna break it”.

“One ecto-iced knife coming up. Anyway I’m totally going to get at least second place this year-”.

It’s significantly colder when she starts again, and shortly he can feel the thick slabs of his skin pulling up and off of his endoskeleton. The gloved hands are touching… touching his metal and he can’t help the body twitch this time and it feels a little hard to count the number of dark dots on Valerie’s shit Appartement ceiling.

“-the only thing I won last year was the dewfox throwing section and I got my face bitten so many times oh and I think cujo was there shut up Valerie my dog is awesome-”.

Valerie grumps incoherently as he can feel air against internal metal that feels truly utterly wrong. Feels things click and pop and get shoved out of the way, something’s opening over the pressure. Like his body simply opened up too easily. Valerie muttering, “oh wow”.

Wes grimacing, clenching his fist enough that his hands creak like plastic, “what?”.

“Sorry, sorry, that wasn’t helpful. Just, you’re well designed”.

Wes barks out a weak laugh, “that’s- that’s not comforting”, curling his toes and twitching again, “I can feel it so stop admiring and just get on with it”.

Valerie huffs a little, “that’s rough, but be glad because I think your skin might be self repairing enough to not leave a bunch of scaring. Magnetic, at least at the seams”.

Wes is actually happy about that, regardless of having seams being unsettling and yet another thing about himself he never noticed, it means there won’t be any physical reminders of this to weigh him down or catch him off guard…. Or to possibly get seen and questioned by someone else.

Daniel talks a bit loudly like he’s trying to not hear their conversation, “-Blackbeard’s been giving me so much run around with that stupid ship of his again and he’s pissing off all of the dark elves and since they all think I’m bizarrely hot they love the excuse to come pester me and it is very uncomfortable and I’m seriously debating just wafting a bunch of Defted wine vapours over their lands just to get them all absolutely blasted and I’m going to then find Jack Sparrow and bribe him with so so much rum to just pretty please beat the shit out of Blackbeard for me for the love of-”

She moves around some wires or cords, he can’t help but be able to tell because it feels like snakes draping and coiling over his sides… the… the cords are moving in their own entirely. “Great, that’s… Jesus, the cords are trying to reorienting themselves like intestines”. Should he be happy about that or deeply disturbed.

“-I accidentally ate a tube sock that day very dumb tastes like shit pure utter shit which is why I know they weren’t my socks because my socks never survive long enough to get smelly nonetheless taste gross-”

Wes has written down a lot of useless information about Danny but what his socks tasted like was not information even he needed.

Valerie moving well… moving him around a bit more aggressively and quickly, probably trying to out pace his… reorganizing. Her muttering, “and of course it’s wired into his system in a ‘if I go, we all go’ kind of way. Damn”.

Wes letting out a shaky breath, “of course it is”, wheezing, “stop giving me your bad luck, Danny”.

“-but at least I didn’t- hey I can’t control my luck and it’s reach it has the light of a god of death you just focus on me taking a book out of my dads pages and blabbering a bunch fuck my mom made a mean lasagne last night too and I mean mean literally and figuratively it ate part of the table but tasted like probably the best apple pie I’ve ever had not sure how that flavour happened and I’m not questioning it I’m not qualified to my taste buds are fucked-”

And it’s not like Wes was qualified to say either, since he’s pretty sure he’s never actually eaten anything. Where would it even go? He was a mess of wires and metal and fuck knows what else.

Valerie huffs, grabbing a pair of shears, “okay, step one, isolate it. Step two, convince it that nothing is happening. Step three, gently evict it from the premises”.

Wes’s lip twitches, “that sounds like you’re kicking out a rude guest”; trying to ignore all the micro movements and rearranging and the sensation of air where it shouldn’t be.

“If it helps, imagine it’s wearing a tiny hat and being extremely obnoxious. And you better tell me if anything feels wrong”.

Wes huffing weakly, “define ‘wrong’”. What the hell wasn’t wrong with him now?

“New wrong. Surprising wrong. ‘I’ve never felt this before’ wrong”.

“Yeah, I can do that at least. I’m not totally useless here”.

Danny butting in, “and you’re doing totally great, I think, I’m not exactly watching and I’m not going to start to because fuck that fuck no Kitty also got a pet kitty and I find that very hilarious-”.

Wes scowls, “Phantom, I’m lying on a table while someone digs around in me. I wouldn’t call that ‘doing great’”.

“-way too many ducks- hey I’d have to be knocked out so you’re doing great by my standards but I am serious about that too many ducks thing though because why-”

And then there’s a loud click and that godawful ticking starts up again. Wes’s eyes widening but not daring to move, “what was that? Why am I- why is the ticking back?”.

Valerie’s, “shit”, is more than a little panicked, “this thing's worse than I thought”. And Danny starts pacing back and forth.

Should he have just left well enough alone? Not taken the chance with himself? Oh god is he going to blow up now? Wheezing, "work faster".

"I'm goddam trying, Wes", sticking her hand back at Danny, "get over here with the bolt cutters, gonna need your strength probably, and I don't want to waste time".

Wes wheezing a little, "great, cool, love that for me". This was a bad idea, fuck he should have just put up with it and not tempted fate.

Valerie holding the bolt cutter tip where it needs to be while Danny is studiously not looking at what he's doing. The ticking is horribly loud to Wes's mind, then suddenly, all he can hear is static, something in him twitching and swirling and flailing and realigning like some kind of parasite. He can see the bolt cutters falling to the floor and bouncing a bit, but he can’t hear it. Danny seemingly having to restrain whatever he cut, leaning down over Wes to make it stop moving. Wes flicking his eyes to them to do something to keep distracting himself. Now he can’t even hear the ticking to tell if he’s still possibly going to explode; and he can’t even do anything about other than just lay here and try not to twitch shake… more than he already is.

Danny’s studiously staring up at the ceiling, also shaking, pupils so constricted his eyes are basically entirely green. Jack ass was going to have a full on pass out level panic attack on him, when Wes is the one who should get to be panicking here. Wes is the one getting torn open and dug around inside of. And now he doesn’t even have Phantom’s stupid ramblings to distract him at all, glaring at the guy violently. Danny glancing to his face, giving a very wobbly smile and saying something. So Wes makes a point to say, “whatever you’re saying I can’t hear”; and hopes his voice still works… not like he can hear it to tell. At least that gets the guy looking alarmed, grimacing extremely hard in that way that Wes knows he does when he’s about to do something he really really doesn’t want to do, before looking down at whatever state of mess Wes’s torso is and fucking ecto-blasting his insides. Likely melting and fusing his metal, doing who knows what to any circuitry, scorching wires. And-

…

And for a bit there’s just… nothing. Then a blink and Danny and Valerie have teleported to different spots. Valerie staring at his face and, flopping his head from side to side, Danny’s squatting down in the corner, just staring at the floor.

Valerie speaks cautiously, her hands still moving, “you back?”; he can still feel her shoving stuff around. A… clump of cords or tubes -he’s not checking- getting grabbed haphazardly. It would be a lot better if he couldn’t feel things. And… just the fact that it’s not that hard to simply not move around is… starkly inhuman. Phantom’s reactions were more human… his were just cold and mechanical.

But holy shit he can hear again… and there’s no ticking. “Yeah…”, his voice sounds like he just ate a box of nails… or like some asshole just ecto-blasted his insides, “what the, fuck Danny”. At least he knows the guy well enough to know he at least thought he was doing the right thing.

“He did the right thing, so shut up”.

Wes wheezing, “you didn’t, mess up anything else while I was out, did you?”.

She practically growls, “all I’ve been doing is trying to get this crap detached from all your main structures and stopping and restopping the stupid ticking, give me a break”.

Oh great, so the ticking was still an issue, and a more urgent one than it used to be from the sounds of it. And he… doesn’t feel different, he doesn’t think he’s thinking different. So whatever happened and has been happening possibly hasn’t altered him, who he is. Either because the damage done didn’t matter or there wasn’t any actual damage done to circuits and wires and chips. He knows it’s not all in his head and that’s… part of why he hates this. Clenching his fists and glancing at the top of her head bobbing around in his field of vision, “how long was I… out?”.

Danny very audibly flops backwards onto the floor from his crouched position, “like, five minutes. Five very shitty moments I thought I vaporized you”.

Valerie sighing, “and I told you that you didn’t”.

Wes goes back to studiously staring at the ceiling, “he deserves to freak out”.

“I swear if I wasn’t actively holding your insides right now”.

Wes frowning, “it’s not like it’s anything real, real organs”. He’s had some time with this, with knowing that he’s just a goddamn machine, but that doesn’t mean he’s close to okay with it.

Danny wheezes from the floor, “at least you always have sorta organs, mine are always up for suggestion and debate”.

“Kind of hard to think you have an issue with that when you go around ripping your head in half for a laugh, Phantom”.

“Hey some people actually have a sense of humour, Wes”.

“I don’t know if I’d call that a sense of humour or sadism, you body horror freak, Phantom”.

“What kind of loser wouldn’t try to use themselves as a basketball hoop if they safely could, Wes”.

“Who wouldn’t? More like who would! I can’t think of a single person who’d even think to do that, Phantom”.

“So what I’m hearing here, is you know a lot of very boring people. That must really such for you, Wes”.

“More like I know more sane people, Phantom”.

“Oh YeAh BeCaUsE tHe ScHoOlS cRaZy KiD tOtAlLy KnOwS mOrE sAnE pEoPlE, Wes”.

“Says the leader of the weirdo trio, you even named it that! You know you’re all crazy, Phantom”.

“We’re a quartet now, the Defect Quartet, your sleuth skills are lacking, Wes”.

“Say that to my metal that records everything it sees face again, Phantom”.

Wes is glaring sideways down at Phantom, who’s now grinning stupidly at the ceiling. That… that goddamn manipulative jerk, he’s bantering him into self tolerance while he’s being goddamn operated on.

Valerie sounds amused, “if you two are done making out, someone -cough cough Danny- needs to give me something to contain this nightmare”.

Wes would throw something at the stupid ghost if he wasn’t worried about that maybe moving something inside him. He’s seen his… schematics but that doesn’t mean he actually really understands it; especially as he likely literally cannot understand it, due to blocks in his programming to allow Vlad to control him better. And he can’t even do anything about that, him not being good with tech beyond a camera or basic editing is part of who he is; regardless of it being artificial. Something some wacko decided for him.

Valerie adding on, “and preferably before Wes gets too undistracted and gets overwhelmed”.

Wes blinking, “why?”, screw him and his stupid constant inquisitive nature…

Danny shoves himself up off of the floor and waddles over to the side, Wes had actually missed that the ghost was still shaking lightly. This situation was messing him up more than he thought if he was missing things… things that were happening while he hadn’t been ‘knocked out’ or shorted out more likely.

“I think it’s been monitoring your emotions or perhaps whether or not you’re in genuine danger”.

Wes grimacing at the ceiling, “so something worse than a vehicle careening into my skull”. Meaning something that could actually hurt him. Something… ectoplasm based. The ‘trigger’ was probably him being caught in a serious ghost fight. Squeezing his fists, “guess it’s good the ghosts prefer to target their favourite punching bag than bystanders”.

Valerie muttering, “am I a joke to you”, while Danny holds out one of his parents ridiculous looking containment devices… it’s a goddamn vacuum, while looking up at the ceiling still. Valerie doesn’t even question it, frankly that just proves Wes’s point about these people all being crazy. But… at least vacuums do actually get used in many surgeries, just medical vacuums instead of industrial ones; the kind meant for a garage or a shop. Something meant for a vehicle not a person.

“Give me another set of arms and hold the bolt cutters again, no dropping shit this time”.

“Ugh”, at least Danny looks to be doing as he’s told.

Wes is going to wind up with a very rational fear of bolt cutters after this.

Valerie snapping her free fingers in front of his face, “I don’t care how you keep yourself from spiralling, especially since that’s literally a habit of yours, but try not to”.

Wes scowling, “thinking is kind of the only thing I have to do right now-”.

“I’m not fiddling around near where your arm components connect and move so hold a phone over your face or something, I don’t know, pick something”.

“You might think that’s a fine idea here, but I don’t feel like taking chances that are reckless with my own body, unlike some people”.

Danny huffs, “you literally run into fights, fights that you thought you had no real protection in and- oh fuck you’re going to be even more of a pain in my ass now that you know you’re fucking durable, fuck me”, and telekinetically shoves a bumpy cube into Wes’s right hand, “use one of Tuck Braille Rubik’s cubes, I’m sure your sleuth brain can figure that thing out”.

Wes glares at what he can see of Danny, “why the hell didn’t you use that ability to hold things instead of making more limbs like a goddamn spider?!?”.

“I am allowed to forget my less useful powers sometimes, Wes!”.

“How is telekinesis not use full but spontaneously forming new goddamn limbs is! You stupid ghost!”.

“Oh YeAh I’m ToTaLlY gOiNg To MeNtAlLy ThRoW a BuS aT a GhOsT. You know a creature that’s obviously just going to turn intangible? Come on, man”.

“Then throw an ecto-weapo-”, Wes cutting himself off when a harsh jolt and something like pain but not pain, rips through him suddenly. Like energy had pulsed through him from him, like energy had wrapped itself all around his parts and squeezed violently while yanking on his very bones. His teeth snapping shut harshly and the Rubik's Cube exploding into pieces as he crushes it. It’s just… overwhelming. Like every signal is firing at once, a storm of sensation with no clear source. He’s barely aware of his back arching up off of the table, he doesn’t get a chance to wonder why his legs aren’t moving at all though, as one hand grips the table with the harsh sound of metal crumpling and the other winds up grabbing into Danny’s thigh.

Wes is vaguely aware of him nearly knocking Danny over and the guys quiet, “ℴ𝓌, 闩𝓝⼕讠🝗𝓝七丂 ɢᗝᖱᖙᎯⲙﬡ”. While Valerie snaps loudly, “𝜏ɾყ ɳσ𝜏 🅃🄾 ɬαᥙɳ𝓬ԋ Ⴘᗝυᖇ⟆∈𝘭⨍ off the ⲧⲁⲃ𝓵ⲉ ᓰ’𝓿∈ Ꭿ𝘭ⲙ𝖮⟆𝜏 gₒₜ ─████─█ ██ ▙▟ ▜▛!”.

� highly doubts he could open his mouth right now if he even wanted to, everything was just too much. Too much input � too much incorrect input. Colours are wrong, their voices sound wrong and only half make sense. Too m�ch, just too too huc.m eH awnst ti to otsp ot rhyur up nrut fof or untr ish viegrehtyn no hte way i��s�t sudpospe to b.e.

Wes's back thumps back loudly against the table, him blinking harshly at the ceiling and Danny hissing at him, moving his face in front of Wes's, gritting out, "could you, maybe, remove, your goddamn fingers, from my, leg".

Wes can hear the eyeroll in Valerie's voice, "oh grow up, it can't hurt worse than half the shit you've gone through".

Danny snapping, "yeah well, I don't normally, have to just, put up with it and not, punch whoever, in the face".

Wes becomes acutely aware then that his hand is very wet and he can feel shaking squishy material under and in his fingers; he unclenches and jerks his hand away immediately, whatever's all over his hand dripping loudly and wetly onto the floor. Danny sighing, "thank you".

Wes blinks harshly again, he felt.. oddly clean, like someone scrubbed his brain. The feeling makes him more than a little uneasy but he doesn't feel like any of him has actually been messed with. Just like he's been rebotted perhaps, rebotted after having a whole whakcamole of spyware and malicious code and backdoors into his systems and possibly a literal bomb removed from his body. From the machine that is his body. And in that way it... feels more like his, and perhaps that's why he feels clean. Yet he also feels oddly hallowed, like a space that was meant to have something in it no longer does. It, he, feels too fresh. He needs to move or something, anything. Shoving himself to roll over partly on his side, one hand down on the makeshift table to push himself up into more of a slanted leaning, rather than actually lying down. Blinking again, "did you get it out?"; he can properly feel the restraints on his ankles now, so at least he knows why his legs… didn’t move during that ‘episode’ he had.

Valerie snapping at him, "Wes, lay back down, you're literally still open", sighing, "but yes. yes I did".

Wes wheezing a little and staring down at the floor, "just- just give me a sec". Eyes flicking to the hand that's holding him somewhat up, it's absolutely covered in red and green... Phantom- Danny's blood and ectoplasm, or what passed for it. He must have literally torn a chunk in to or out of the guy's thigh. He... doesn't think he ever remembers being that strong, there was probabaly a built-in block to stop him from using more strength than humanly possible. He finds he's perfectly okay with that and would like to keep that. Thank you very much. He doesn't need to be or want to be less human than he already is. A bit of the cords and wirings and metal plates hanging out and sticking out from his torso move faintly at the edge of his vision; a thick black cord drops down more and it feels like he can't see anything else but that. He's twitching badly again and he knows it.

Then Danny smacks him on the back nearly hard enough to knock him off of the table, "the bomb has been vacuumed, and if you keep leaning like that something's probably going to fall out".

Wes turning his head to look over his shoulder at the half ghost, Danny's smile is nowhere close to reassuring, more like he was trying to not have another breakdown and his grin was trying to break free from the confines of his face, "you look like shit". There's a part of him that just wants to demand a shirt, feeling way too exposed, but he... doesn't know how to put himself back together. Doesn't know how all his messed up metal and plastic and electronic pieces all fit together. He would barely even know where to begin; so he doesn't really have a choice. But at least forcing Danny to 'help guide' him back into lying down, makes it feel less like he's letting things be done to him.

Valerie nodding, "good", and quickly grabs the tools and goes back to rooting around in his insides, in his componates.

And laying there Wes realizes there’s a pressure that used to be there but isn't now, "huh".

There's sounds of bandaging unrolling, Danny speaking from the same direction, "what?".

"Just, I can tell it's out. That something with a pressure, that had pressure, is gone".

"Then it sounds like the gaping wound in my leg was worth it", Danny then muttering away from Wes's direction, "and all the nightmares I'm probably going to have tonight".

Wes just keeps staring up at the ceiling, “you know, your stupid ass could have just left me like this”, trying to ignore Valerie yanking and shoving pieces around; even having to push down with her full body weight to get a piece or two to click back into place like Lego pieces.

“Not a chance in hell, Wes. You’re a shit, but you don’t deserve this. And hey, there was no dramatic explosion. Bit anticlimactic, honestly".

Wes snapping his head to the side to glare at the half ghost, "for you maybe, you jerk. I got to feel like someone was ramming me full of every possible sensation in the world at once. That was aggressively climatic".

"But you didn't explode, so...".

Wes is twitching for an entirely different reason now, Valerie growling, "don't you dare launch yourself off of this table to clobber him, Wes", is all that actually keeps him where he is. Stupid Phantom looks incredibly smug at that, even if he's still shaking.

So instead, Wes makes a point to simply focus on glaring as violently as he physically can at Danny for the entire duration of Valerie actually yanking his skin rubber back over his insides. Not... not feeling air in there, on everything, anymore is dramatically more relieving than he had expected; and Phantom's look of pity over him relaxing unintentionally over that only stands to piss him off all over again.

Valerie muttering, "I'm very very glad for these magnetic ass seams, holy shit". Wes breaking his glaring match with Danny to eye her face, her looking at him and continuing, "you're good to get up now, feel free to punch Danny in his pain in the ass face".

"Hey! Don't tell him that! His fist is probably actually harder than my face!".

She turns and smirks at him, putting her hands on her hips, "good, and maybe you should have thought of that before being an ass and riling up someone that needed to lie goddamn still, you tit".

Danny sticking his hands out at her, "but he didn't have a panic attack, now did he? I did good!".

"You nearly passed out on the floor, you did not do good, Danny".

"Let a man have his traumas in peace, would you".

Wes kind of hates, just a little, that all the banter has grown on him over the past two years of his existence. As he pushes himself to get up and eyes his chest; running a hand over it before pulling his shirt back on. It... it doesn't feel the same, there's dips and an emptiness where there didn't used to be, but that's a good thing. Vlad's psychotic machinations aren't forcibly a part of his body anymore.

When he looks up, away from his torso and shirt, the two teens are eyeing him softly... and mildly amused. So Wes just flips them off, then glancing at the vacuum, “I’m guessing you’re going to dispose of that?”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “no Wes I’m just going to lEaVe A bOmB iN a RaNdOm VaCuUm”. Wes just glares so Danny chuckles, “I’m just going to blow the whole thing up, maybe ol’ Vladdie will get a reading from that and freak out that his project went off and then freak out in confusion when he sees you next”.

Wes is entirely on board for this plan, Vlad is officially at the very top of Wes’s shit list. “I’m still fully planing to can him so go right ahead”. Both other teens snorting in amusement at that; Danny grabbing up the vacuum and just disappearing with it.

Valerie pointing at him, “after this shit I’m going to be pissed if you ever start running around doing to me what you do to Danny”.

Wes scratches at his stomach, he’s going to feel off for a while probably, “I don’t really have or had any interest in exposing you. I don’t think that would actually do any good”.

“And exposing Danny would?”.

Wes huffs, “of course it would. He’s literally walking floating proof ghosts and humans are more alike and comparable than everyone seems to think. The ectophobia crap is obviously stupid if you know that. Also just the fact that no one seems to be able to see the obvious is so infuriating, at least you wear a mask”.

“I’ll give you a point on the mask, but Wes, come on, it doesn’t matter if he’s half human when he still looks like and has the abilities of a ghost. It’s no different than a dark-skinned biracial person, it doesn’t matter if they have ‘some white in them’ they’re still treated like they don’t have any”, scowling at him, “if anything they often get treated worse or their parents do or both. All you exposing him will do is take away the safety of his human form”.

Wes frowns at her, he’s still doesn’t agree that people would react so negatively or not care. Sure the guy will obviously get pestered about being the town hero, fan girls and autographs, but he could talk about ghosts with actual proof to back up what he says, instead of everyone writing him off for being a kid. “The opinions and feelings on ghosts wouldn’t be so bad if everyone knew”.

“And that just sounds like victim blaming. Danny ain’t gonna be able to undo literal centuries of bigotry just by existing”.

Danny comes back in then, rolling his eyes, “dude, you can’t lay off with this shit at all can you? The answer is still fuck that shit. How about you go tell the town about your android ass to advance the tech field and see how long you still get treated like a person”.

Wes can’t help the twitch at that, crossing his arms, he really doesn’t think it’s quite the same. “I’m artificial, you’re not, it’s not the same”.

Valerie shakes her head and moves off to start cleaning up, while Danny rolls his eyes, “you’re right it’s not, you can get a new body, a new face, if shit goes south, which it would. I can not. As far as ecto-ology is concerned, you and I are equally artificial”, shaking his head and digging in his pockets, “now stop being a pain in my ass and drink this”, and hurls a jug at him.

Wes snatching it out of the air and staring down at it, clearly labeled as a chemical neutralizer of some kind. “You still haven’t changed my opinion and I really do not think we’d be viewed the same-”.

“-you’re right, I’ll be viewed worse. Because you were made by human hands, well human hands as far as the public knows. Shut up and drink”.

Wes glares at the bottle a little then looks to Danny again, “why?”.

Danny holds up a finger, “‘cause there is one teeny tiny problem”. Wes glares harder so Danny continues, “your bones, or what’s passing as bones, are all coated in ecto-creaton which is basically the explosive material”.

Wes is starting to feel like he really can’t catch a break with all of this, “but I thought-”.

Danny waving him off, “yeah yeah Valerie did get the actual explosive itself out with the timer and everything, but your whole insides are coated in the actual anti-ecto explosive fuel”, sticking up a finger, “thankfully a neutralizer is something my folks have made for that specific chemical so”, and shrugs.

Wes quirks an eyebrow, “so what? Do I have to drink the stuff or get some kind of injections?”.

“We kind of need to get it everywhere, which since you don’t have a bunch of stuff closed off inside of organs it’s doable with you just drinking it. I just gotta shake you around like I’m making a margarita after you do”; and Danny grins very meanly at him… Valerie is also barely resisting laughing audibly at him.

Wes glares as hard as he thinks he can while twisting off the bottles cap, “I… fucking hate you”; days ago he would have been worried about how he’d even get an entire two litre bottle in him but he doesn’t even have a goddamn stomach to worry about here.

Valerie grumbling, “if he throws that whole mess up onto my floor I swear I will beat both your asses”.

“If Vlad built him with a goddamn gag reflex I’ll have a lot of really fucked up questions that I do not ever what answers for”.

Valerie hurls one of her sweaters at the half ghost and Wes shakes his head to himself. At least neither one of them is staring at him now, downing something that would almost definitely kill a human person is… is… he doesn’t know but he doesn’t really want to be actively watched and studied. Well… here’s hoping it doesn’t taste nasty. Putting the bottle to his lips and tipping his head back, the fizzy liquid sloshing into his mouth. His tongue recoiling from the contact but the liquid seemingly chases it around his mouth, filling up his mouth and lapping at his teeth. A thick syrup coating his entire mouth in an instant, slipping between the crevices in each tooth, up against metal grooves on the roof of his mouth that he’d never noticed before. It’s almost itchy, irritating even, like a thousand pinpricks he can’t scratch. He… absolutely has never had anything close to carbonated before, has he? Almost instinctively pressing his tongue up to it, trying to smother the sensation, but that just traps the fizz between his tongue and palate even more, amplifying it into a frantic, crackling pressure. Why do people drink anything like this? This was awful.

…

What’s he supposed to do now though, ‘swallowing’ is not seemingly happening. Has he ever swallowed anything before actually? Tiny streams of the liquid do feel to be trickling down the inside of his throat, but no gulping or surging river of liquid down into him. So he just kinda stands there like that staring at the ceiling for a bit, until the liquid neutralizer starts actively spilling out over the sides of his mouth and down his face. Tilted his head back down and spitting everything out into the bootle, “eugh”.

Danny snorts, “okay yeah it probably tastes like shit but I don’t think you want to get a tube shoved down your throat, so…”.

Wes huffs and glares at Danny, “I fucking tried, Phantom. I don’t think I can swallow”.

Both of them blink at him before falling over laughing at him. Wes scowls at them on the ground, feeling thoroughly embarrassed, “oh shut up”.

Danny wheezing, “how have you never even tried to eat food or drink pop or something?!?”.

“I’m usually busy with basketball or school or homework or harassing your dumbass!”. Plus, since he obviously doesn’t need food or water, being that he’s artificial, a machine, inorganic, he obviously wouldn’t have any physical urge to eat/drink. Easy to forget to do something when you have literally never felt the desire or need to do it.

Valerie rolls over still laughing, “I couldn’t imagine going a day without a good matcha latte”.

Danny snickering and sitting with his knees up, “nothing would separate me from my sweet sweet espresso”.

Wes glares at him, “I’ve watched you down sixty-two espresso shots in four minutes”.

Valerie wheezes, “Danny! That’s disgusting!”.

“It’s not like it’s gonna kill me and I was tired!”, Danny chuckling a little more before pushing himself to stand up. Him eyeing Wes, snickering a little more, “I- oh man that’s so funny”, shaking his head at Wes’s scowling, “but I guess we’re gonna have to look at that. Sit and open up”.

Wes rolls his eyes, setting the jug with his backwash to the side recapped, and crosses his arms as he sits on Valerie’s ratty little chair. Tilting his head back and opening his mouth, pointedly glaring at the ceiling to ignore all of Phantom’s stupid faces… it only kind of works. Meanwhile, Danny grabs his chin, sticking his thumb in Wes’s mouth to hold his tongue down, and shines the laparoscope light down his throat.

Danny blinks and lets go of his face, “huh”, and steps back, crossing his own arms at Wes, “well no wonder you can’t swallow, your throat is literally mostly blocked shut”.

Valerie finally getting up off of the floor and shoving Danny out of the way, “let me see”, making both boys roll their eyes. But Wes studiously tilts his head back and open his mouth again, at least she’s less of a little shit about staring down his throat… then she just shoves the laparoscope down his throat and bonks whatever’s blocking his throat with it, making a loud metallic clang noise and making Wes jerk a little.

Wes glaring at the ceiling, “did you really need to do that?”, it’s… surprisingly easy to talk like this, with someone holding his mouth open and with a bendy metal rod down his neck.

He can hear Valerie blinking, “huh, your throat walls vibrate when you talk, guess that explains all the foam and meshing”.

Wes rolling his eyes, “I get it I get it, I’m a technological marvel, what are we doing about the chemical neutralizer?”.

Valerie hums, “let me try something. Nothing damaging, promise”. Part of him wants to say no but he’s well aware there’s kind of no point. “Danny give me a butter knife”.

Great, now he’s getting kitchen utensils shoved down his throat. Lovely.

The tinking and clanging and scrapping vibrates around in his throat and is distinctly not comfortable. Squeezing his arms a little tighter, arms still crossed, more than a little desperately wanting this to just all be over with. Then he can go home and pretend to not think about just being a walking hunk of metal and plastics and rubber. And probably spiral about apparently not being able to eat or drink even if he wanted to… such a basic human thing that’s just… not an option for him. Never was. And he didn’t even notice.

Then there’s a sharp click, and suddenly there’s a lot more air in his throat than before and he can feel air moving down his neck and into his torso, it’s distinctly unsettling.

Valerie snapping, “Danny, bottle duty, prided it open so take the opportunity for what it’s worth. And Wes can just sit and not make this weirder”.

Wes sits, open mouth, glaring at Danny’s very clearly trying not to laugh face as the guy just starts pouring the bottle down his throat.

It…

It’s probably one of the more bizarre feelings Wes has ever felt and he is seriously baffled that anyone actually likes this sensation. The liquid rushing down, and the bubbles don’t dissolve but rather claw outward as it descends, fizzing against the walls of his throat and leaving behind a tingling trail that feels strangely raw, like he’s been lightly sanded from the inside. A small, involuntary wheeze catching in his chest as the tingle and wetness surges down into his torso. He can feel some of it dribbling off to the sides and going through his arms.

Wes scrunches up his face and hunches his shoulders, feeling some of the stuff pooling all the way down in his feet; grinding and crackling against this insides like something alive and irritated. It’s also incredibly noisy, like rain on a tin roof and static. All Wes can think to do is simply close his mouth and stay scrunched up, glaring murderously at the two teens as they step back.

Danny putting the bottle aside and grinning playfully, “and now, shaking time. I’m going to enjoy this”; and bodily picks Wes up.

Valerie just sighs, “try not to make a mess”, and walks out of the room.

Danny snickers and starts shaking Wes up and down aggressively, shouting, “straighten out!”.

Wes growls back, not wanting to open his mouth because he does not want to deal with this ever again, but does forcibly straighten out.

Danny spends a good five minutes just shaking and spinning him, Wes able to feel the liquid sloshing around throughout his entire body basically the whole time. Hearing the fizz and splashing inside his head is incredibly loud and makes him feel like a bunch of bugs went and crawled into his ears and nose.

Eventually the guy stops, and Wes would put money on Danny having spent more time doing that than he actually needed to. Wes staggering to get his footing and shaking his head back and forth. There’s pale green slimy water dripping out of his ears, nose, the edges of his eyes, and from where all his… body seams seem to be. His clothing is wrecked. Holding his arms out to his sides and glaring at Danny, “I really hate you”.

Danny smacking him on the back, then grimacing, “and I love you too Wes, also, take a shower Ancients”.

“It’s your fault! And you’re cleaning the floor”.

“Damnit”.

Wes flips him off yet again and stomps out to find the goddamn showers. Valerie shouting from the living room/kitchen, “don’t you dare use my towels!”.

Wes throws his hands up in the air, definitely flinging around a bit of the goop, and heads into the bathroom; slamming the door behind himself. He’s incredibly tempted to just squirt body wash into his mouth to try and get rid of the… rough film feeling in there now. It’s not pleasant and he’s hoping it’s not just his new normal now. Even if it’s better than his insides still being coated in an explosive.

He gives himself a really good scrubbing and just sits down on the floor of the shower, letting the water run. Valerie’s dad probably won’t be happy about the water bill but he doesn’t really care about that right now.

The pressure changes every so often and the temperature fluctuates, old building with shitty plumbing, but it was more ‘real’ than his body probably was; less controlled at least. Less calibrated. He still feels oddly emptied out, which he had somewhat expected, and thanks to Danny’s dumbass it’ll probably be a while before he feels remotely clean. But he also still felt exposed and too self aware, physically self aware. Self aware of what his insides felt like exposed to air or when getting liquids dumped all over it.

And he was hyper aware of the seams he had now, as glad as he is to not have scaring, now he knows that’s there meanwhile any sign of being peeled apart and rearranged and exposed is not.

Thumping his head on his knees, “and I didn’t even try to stop it”, it needed to happen, technically, but… just laying there and taking is certainly not human. The feeling of something inside him shifting, adjusting, reacting in ways that didn’t need permission. Like a system doing its job. Like a machine being serviced. Something to be taken apart and fixed.

Leaning his head back against the shower and letting the water spray straight into his face. He’s not even really panicking, not really overwhelmed, just having issues mentally. He differently didn’t feel more human for all of this, actively felt less human actually; to the point Wes’s pretty sure it’ll be hard to really relate to anyone now. His teammates talking about parents he doesn’t have. Kwan inviting him out to eat and Wes brushing him off like he always does, but now it’ll be because he knows he physically can’t. Dale complaining about the bruises and cuts he always manages to get while Wes will never know the feeling. Mrs. Welsche talking about kids he’ll definitely never have. Heck, he probably can’t even age; aging was for organic creatures after all, and he’s not that.

Taking a deep breath and feeling the way his whole chest moves with the motion, and then there’s the fact that he’s… not really traumatized, he thinks, by everything. A dead kid had a more normal reaction to everything than Wes did… not that he’s claiming to be jealous of Danny but still. At least he got to be a person, but all Wes can really do about all that now is try to be himself.

Try to adjust and learn about this body he’s trapped in. Ironically the same shit Danny had to do. Who knows, maybe someone will find out about him and dedicate all their free time tying to expose Wes. Wouldn’t that be just fucking hilarious?

Shaking his hair off and standing up, turning off the water; he should at least go home and rest this whole nightmare off properly. At least Tucker basically gutted Wes’s entire house, so he knows the place is as safe for him as anywhere else in Amity.

Valerie leans against the wall and eyes him as he steps out of the bathroom, “you good? You can crash if you really need to”.

Wes shaking his head immediately, “I’ll pass, I’m going to face plant into my bed and watch bad straight-to-tv movies”.

“How do you even sleep?”.

Wes glares a little, “well I at least turn off or something. I’m not questioning it right now”. His bed it’s probably gonna turn out to have some kind of charging feature in it, that charges him while he’s ‘sleeping’ in it. Tucker will look into it and will probably tell him about it very enthusiastically. Oh Zone these people have turned into his friends, haven’t they. Jesus fucking Christ why is he doing this to himself? These people are all crazy freaks.

… ‘Crazy freak’ says the android that just got opened up to have an actual literal bomb removed from his torso, and had to drink a neutralizer then get shaken around like a fizzy drink… He’s actively weirder than at least half of this group; a group that he’s actually definitely stuck being part of now for sure.

Who the hell else is he going to complain to about shorting out? Or the lagging that’s definitely some kind of processing error? And they won’t be weird about things like him not eating or not going to the bathroom or being bizarrely durable. He’s stuck with these ‘Defects’ now. Especially when Valerie is basically his mechanic and Tucker his programmer… and Danny’s his muse same as ever.

End.

Prompts: Wes is a robot made by Vlad to spy on Danny "You have to crack the pavement to expose the bones. People don't hide skeletons in the closet anymore." -me, creative writing class. Who decides who counts as alive or dead anyway? if only it were that simple "Someone other than Danny experiences body horror. (Bonus points if Danny tries to help them, but it doesn't go to plan.)" Body horror - for anyone EXCEPT Danny

[jaybirbie]

Personal HeadCanon for Wes Weston

He has Cassandra's Curse.

Cursed with the gift of prophecy Wes isn't a conspiracy theorist. He's right, but trying to prove it just means no one will ever believe him.

[iaroespantalho]

[wesley-wyndam-pryce]

Wesley: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

[patricksgibson]

Bonus:

[frunkcastle]

I’m pretty sure the memories zekia stole from wesleys mind were of tavia and I am not okay