A/N: I am deeply sorry for the delay of this update. It's been such a long time since I've updated this story. I don't plan to draw out this story for much longer, perhaps 2 chapters and final short epilogue if possible, whenever I can get them written. This is the shortest chapter so far I believe. Thanks for your patience and for the comments and subscribes!

Warning: There is heavy content and subject matter in this chapter concerning the topic of death.

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            Taecyeon wasn’t sure what had happened. It had all passed by so quickly. One second Wooyoung was between him and the dead lure, the next he was here. Wherever here was he wasn’t sure, but it was dark. Then, he began to feel cold and it was as if the very air around him was beginning to constrict on his whole body. Upon opening his eyes he found himself standing before a painting. It was of a cityscape drowned in sunlight. The darkening night skies were creeping in on the edges. He knew this painting.

            Turning abruptly, he now found himself standing in his family home. Seated at the table, a mug of strong coffee in front of him, he smiled. Looking up, his mother sat across from him with a smile gracing her lips. Taking great comfort in seeing her, she looked just as he remembered her. She slowly began to look down and covered her face with her hands.

            “He doesn’t want to accept that he isn’t well. He won’t listen to me, Taecyeon. I’m losing him.”

            Blinking, he was startled to now find himself seated on the floor and looking up at his father. His arm was hurting, he recalled, because his father had yanked his painting out of his hands and shoved him back.

            “You think you could reach my level, huh? Don’t kid yourself.”

            Taecyeon was only 17 when this happened. He had been accepted into a prestigious art school, but none of that mattered to his father.

            “I’m not trying to reach any level! Why are you always competing with me?”

            “How could I be happy when you make such abominations?”

            “I’m your son. I just want to make art and for you to be happy for me. Is that too much to ask?”

            His father scoffed at him. “How silly of me to think you would even have the backbone. Your work is drivel.”

            The memory left him feeling sour. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he worked, his father continued on this destructive path, trying in every way to undermine Taecyeon's life and his work. Whenever Taecyeon had art shows, his father was there, but never in support. After a couple of his personal shows and his father leaving scathing remarks his mother forbade him from being near Taecyeon. It worked for a couple years.

            Feeling himself being pulled forward, he was then walking within a cozy but well populated gallery. A nostalgic smile tugged at his lips. Paintings of his friends, his favourite landscapes and seascapes adorned the walls.

            “I really like your work.”

            Nichkhun was beside him, eyes bright.

            "We really need to collaborate again soon. By the way, I also know some people who would absolutely love to buy a painting or two from you." 

            They were standing before a familiar painting: the one that hung in Mrs. Lee’s grocery store.

            Taecyeon jerked back however as he found the dead lure right behind his good friend. One of it’s hands ran down Nichkhun’s hair and down his neck. The other rested on his stomach.

            “You don’t deserve him.” It hissed.

            “Ne, Taecyeon?” Nichkhun asked and gripped his hand. “Can I buy this one for a special friend?”

            Taecyeon could only watch as the dead lure began choking his friend.

            “Do you know what you did to him?”

            “Please let him go!”

            “Your work has no purpose.”

            There was a flash of blue light. He recoiled instantly. He was older now and could only watch as his father broke his canvases, and cut up his paintings with scissors.

            “Don’t you dare call yourself my son and make this garbage!”

            It was here that Taecyeon realised his father really and truly hated him.

            “What’re you doing?!” His mother screamed as she ran passed him, gripping his father’s arms. He tried to fight her off but she did not let go. “How could you do this to my son?!”

            It was jarring...to be experiencing these memories again. They all revolved around his father in some way, and he realised just what he was holding on to, and why people had been telling him he needed to let go. This was violence. From his father’s mild disappointment to his violent episodes, it was this one in particular that devastated him the most.

            He saw his father, he saw his anger, he saw the hatred, he saw it all. However, he saw the dead lure most. It was there, always standing with his father.

            “You are nothing to me!” His father cursed at him.

            Tender hands covered his ears and eyes. “I will not let him hurt you so long as you want me to protect you, Taecyeon,” came Wooyoung’s gentle voice.

            “You don’t deserve it.”

            Breathing heavier he tried to reach for him but found himself at the mercy of the lure. It was peering down upon him.

            “Why keep going on when you have no value, no worth?”

            Beginning to shake, he shut his eyes tight.

            “You can try and ignore me, but you know I’m right, Taecyeon.”

            “Stop speaking with my father’s voice!”

            “But these are his thoughts. You know it’s the truth. He didn’t want you.”

            “I do.”

            Gasping, he looked up at his mother.

            “I waited for you, until you were ready to come to me.” She said and memories of him and his mother when he was young came to mind. “And then you came and you brought so much joy. I love you, Taecyeon.”

            “Mom...”

            As the lure tried to come forward, his mother stood in front of him.

            “You are strong enough to stand against him.”

            Shaking his head, Taecyeon curled up.

            “I cannot help you if you don’t let me in, Taecyeon.” Wooyoung said gently.

            The earth began to swallow him. He was feeling panic and there seemed to be no way he could stop it. He was sinking. The heaviness of the lure’s words, the memories of his father, the impact of so many things on his life, it was too much.

            “It’s okay.”

            Surprised, he turned his gaze upwards and found Junho. Those wonderful green eyes were looking upon him with such calm. He slowly came to kneel before him.

            “This heaviness...” He said as he motioned around them. “If you’re not strong enough to carry it anymore, it’s okay.”

            “But I’m scared of what will happen if I fall, if I can’t get up.”

            Junho smiled, “then you take my hand and I’ll pull you up. I’ll carry you for a short while, I’ll help you walk the rest, and when you’re ready then you continue on again. You’re not alone.”

            His mother appeared, then Nichkhun, Chansung, Wooyoung, even Mrs. Lee. They stood between him and the dead lure who was trying to reach over them but couldn’t.

            “It is okay to reach out, Taecyeon.” Nichkhun said.

            “Don’t be afraid.” His mother cheered.

            “Do you believe in me, Taecyeon?” Junho asked.

            It was so close now, the earth. It was going to suffocate him. He was scared, but he had to, he had to reach up. He believed.

            “I do.” He said and grasped Junho’s hand.

            As he was hauled up, he came face to face with Wooyoung.

            “You tricked me.” He chuckled.

            Wooyoung grinned, “not entirely, but you still took my hand.”

            Indeed, Taecyeon kept a firm grip on the guardian. He was shaking.

            “Do you believe in me to protect you, Taecyeon?”

            The fear remained. The fear of the dead lure, of his father’s words, but he knew he could face it better now. “Did the dead lure come from my father?”

            Wooyoung tightened his hold on Taecyeon’s hand and he pulled him closer. “Yes.”

            “Is that why he hated me?”

            “I don’t know.” Wooyoung answered with genuine honesty. “What I do know is a dead lure can pass on to another, and it keeps going, feeding endlessly on negativity and pain.”

            Taecyeon closed his eyes as he thought of his mother. “Did it...did it also latch onto my mom?”

            “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised. If you only recently started experiencing things with the dead lure then it is possible it latched onto her after your father.”

            While he had his fears, he didn’t want to believe it.

            “However, as you saw, your mother loves you very much, Taecyeon. She protected you for as long as she could if it did, she held out until the weight became too much.”

            “Where did the lure come from?”

            Wooyoung tugged him closer and rested his fingers against his temple. “Let us find out. I want you to focus on your very early years.”

            Taecyeon closed his eyes and did as told.

            “Look beyond the pain to when things were still happy.”

            It was hard to do so, especially since Taecyeon only remembered terrible things of his father. He would feel Wooyoung inside his head, pushing further and further, it was almost as if his mind was expanding. Things he had forgotten began to arise in his mind, things like his father smiling at him and laughing with him. It struck him deeply to see this side of his father. The memory which had affected him most was painting with his father. They sat side by side.

            It was as if everything paused as he looked upon the scene, but mainly at his father. It almost pained him to see his father so loving and en