Wes froze. His father was staring at him with wide eyes, a mix of wariness and confusion on his face. This wasn't good. "Um..."

"Who are you," Walter repeated, "and why are you in my son's room?" His eyes darted to and fro, then lit up in horror. "...Where is he?"

Definitely not good. Wes held up a placating hand, the other moving to turn off the camera. It seemed he had no choice but to come clean. "Look, I can explain-"

"Where is he?" Walter demanded again, taking a single step backwards. It looked as if he was going to run, but Wes knew he kept a small ectogun in a drawer by his nightstand, in case of situations like this. Many citizens of Amity Park owned one, and his father was no exception. "What did you do to my son?"

"Nothing!" Wes blurted out, eyes flicking to an anxious violet. "It's... It's me!"

That made Walter pause. He narrowed his eyes, studying the ghost before him. After a few seconds, he shook his head. "...No, don't lie to me. I would be able to recognize my own son. What did you do to him? Where is he?"

A part of Wes's heart sank at that, but he should have expected that he would be unidentifiable, even to his own dad. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt. "...I can show you. I can prove that it's me."

But Walter wasn't having it. He took another step back, then two. And then he was running back down the hallway. Wes groaned, tugging at his hair, then ran through the wall, passing through the bathroom before ending up in his dad's room. Walter then breached the doorway, skidding to a halt with a terrified gasp upon seeing the ghost already there. Even though he had a good four inches over Wes, right then, he looked so much smaller. He was trying so hard to be strong for his son, his son who he thought had become the victim of a ghost attack, but he was scared. It was clear as day on his face. It physically pained Wes to look at him.

"...Please, dad. It really is me, and I can show you. Just... please promise you won't shoot at me?" Walter didn't reply, but he hardly looked capable of speaking anyway. He didn't even look like he could stand up, braced against the doorframe like he was. And Wes was the one making him so afraid. Perhaps it really would be better to get it over with, if only so his father would stop looking at him with those eyes.

Wes sighed wearily, closing his eyes. It took almost no effort for him to revert back to his human form. He nearly fell to his knees as a wave of exhaustion overtook him, but he managed to remain standing. Only when he was sure he wasn't going to collapse did he open his eyes again.

Walter was staring. His expression was difficult to make out, a number of emotions subtly flickering across his face. Settling for cautious bafflement, he slowly straightened out, using the doorframe to assist him. "...Wes? But you... I don't..."

Wes kept his eyes glued to the ground, wringing his hands nervously. He was terrified that the fear would still be there when he looked up. "...Dad... I'm a ghost... Half ghost, technically, but..."

"...How?" Walter asked, his voice wobbling ever so slightly. "How did this happen? When?"

"A little over a week ago," Wes answered quietly. "I got caught in the middle of a ghost fight, and..." He didn't understand why he was suddenly so nervous to put everything out there. He'd wanted to tell his father from the beginning. They never liked to keep secrets from each other. But it had felt safer not to say anything. And yet now, when he was finally forced to tell him... "...Phantom saved me. I couldn't tell you how, but he turned me into a ghost, and that saved my life."

"...Saved you? Phantom?" Wes could understand why it would be so hard to grasp. It was a lot to take in at once. "The ghost kid? But... But if he turned you into a ghost, wouldn't that mean you...?"

Walter didn't have to finish that sentence for Wes to know what he meant. "Dad, no, no, I'm alive. Look at me, I'm right here!"

"But you're... You're a ghost...!" Walter choked out, once again looking like his knees were about to give out.

"Only half, I'm... Look, I can prove it. Come here. Please?" Wes held out one hand, wrist upturned. Walter glanced him up and down, at his son who was all eye bags and mussed hair, his son who looked dead on his feet as it was. His son, who had suffered from a life-threatening experience without his knowledge, one that evidently resulted in him becoming a ghost. How could he claim to be alive after that? But he said he could offer proof, and Walter wanted so, so strongly to believe him. So he walked forwards on shaky legs, swallowing thickly as he eyed the offered hand.

Wes held his wrist up more insistently, his eyes practically pleading with his father. Walter pursed his lips, finally recognizing the request for what it was. He lightly grasped his son's wrist, his thumb resting on top. He concentrated, and his breath hitched when he found what he was looking for. Wes's pulse thrummed, the beats rapid and lively. His heart, it was still beating. Wes was a ghost, but his heart was beating.

Walter melted with relief, pulling his son into a tight embrace. His eyes screwed shut as he tried not to cry. "You're alive," he breathed. "You're alive..."

Wes sniffled, letting out a tense, shaky breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Yeah... I am..."

The two lost track of how long they held each other, but after some time, they both calmed down enough to part, Walter's hands on his son's shoulders. "...Why did you not tell me sooner? I almost... I would have shot at you."

Wes wiped an arm across his eyes, keeping his head ducked low. "...It was too dangerous to tell you. Not that I didn't trust you, but... it isn't just my secret. If I told anyone, it would hurt him, too."

"Him? Do you mean Phantom?"

The Halfa closed his mouth, frowning. "...I can't say. The government could be listening."

Walter smirked at that, ruffling his son's hair. "Come on, champ. You already checked all the electronics in the house for bugs last month. I'm sure we're in the clear."

That pulled a chuckle out of Wes, leaning into the touch. "I know, I know. But I still worry." His expression sobered. "...If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anybody. If anybody finds out I'm a Halfa, or what Phantom has to do with it, it could put us all in danger."

Walter knew that his son was a paranoid individual. He was always afraid of eavesdroppers, of government agents gleaning all sorts of information from them. And he had the tendency to assume everyone had secrets to hide, secrets oftentimes supernatural in nature. Occasionally he was right, more often than not he wasn't. But this... This was something that could hold real consequences. They lived in a town that was home to the most trigger-happy ghost hunters in the country, and was regularly visited by other professionals in the field. And one group, he knew, happened to be a government agency that specialized in ghosts. Walter shuddered to think what any of those people would do to his son, should they learn his secret.

"...I promise. I won't tell a soul."

Wes sucked in a breath, held it, and let it out. It still took a moment for him to begin speaking. And once he did, he couldn't stop. He told his father about how he had followed Phantom, trying to collect more evidence of him being Danny Fenton. How a stray shot from Skulker downed a tree. How Wes wasn't able to get away from it in time. He told him how Phantom had found him, and brought him to the Fenton Portal. How the sheer amount of ectoplasmic energy had changed him, and how it allowed him to regenerate quickly enough to overcome his wounds. How Phantom... Danny... has been training him how to use his newfound powers since, so that he could hide safely.

"And that's what I was doing when you came in," Wes finished. "I was trying to see if I had any other ghost powers."

Walter was silent for a long while, his mouth hanging open. "...That's... How could I not know you've been through so much? How did I not notice any of this? That my own son..."

"Dad, it's okay," Wes assured him. "I hid it from you. You weren't supposed to find out. At least... not like this." He stared at the floor, hands balling up in his shorts. "...I'm sorry for scaring you. But if you're still scared, that's... I get it. I really do."

Walter's expression softened, and he pulled his son into another embrace. "Wesley, of course I'm not scared of you. You're still the same boy I raised. Even if you were a vampire, or a unicorn, or a slimy swamp monster, I would still love you just the same."

It wasn't the first time his dad had assured him in such a way, but it was clear he meant every word he said. Wes smiled a watery smile, leaning into the hug. He hummed quietly, one hand rubbing at his eyes before he released a barely-stifled yawn.

Walter held Wes at arms-length, studying him with a stern eye. "...Wesley. When was the last time you got some sleep?"

Wes shrugged noncommittally. "Two nights ago."

"What have I told you about sleeping every night?" Walter scolded him.

"I know, I know. But how am I supposed to sleep when there's still so much for me to learn? I have so much ghost material I can study now!"

"Wesley Arnold Weston," Walter chided lightly, only for his phone to start ringing. They both jumped, and the parent fished his phone out of his pocket, groaning when he saw the contact info. "Oh no... It's a call from work, I need to go." His thumb hovered over the answer button, and he got to his feet, shooting one last glance at Wes. "Make sure to get a nap in while I'm gone, and get to bed at a reasonable hour. You have school tomorrow."

"Ugh, fiiine," Wes whined, rolling his eyes. Satisfied with the brash answer, Walter smiled, answering the phone and balancing it between his cheek and shoulder as he left the room, struggling with his tie.

Wes stood in his father's room for a long time, well after he'd left the house in a rush. He let out a shaky laugh, fingers carding through his hair. That definitely could have gone better, but he was relieved it hadn't been way, way worse. Despite the rocky start, he felt lighter than he had since waking up in the portal. He hadn't realized how much keeping the secret had weighed on him. Now that the person closest to him knew, he felt like he could breathe easy.

Wes trudged towards his room, his body finally beginning to succumb to exhaustion. He crawled on top of his bed, not bothering to change into anything more comfortable, and fell into a deep but fitful slumber.

I don't usually do well with these kinds of chapters, but by god it needed to be done. Overall I think it went well. I would very much like to think that Wes and Walter are really close. We need more positive parent-child relationships in media, dangit.

The next chapter is going to be an interesting one to write. I want to try involving basketball, but I don't actually know much about it besides the basics. We'll just see what happens. XD