It hadn’t been so bad at first.  In fact, he kind of liked seeing the other male around the house, even if Hakyeon couldn’t.  His presence had been something else to focus on besides his inability to do anything at all other than sit and watch the world move around him.  It really was a maddening thing to be aware and able to think and feel but unable to actually do anything in the meantime.  He could see the same frustration on Hakyeon’s face too, when he talked with Taekwoon, and it bothered him to no end that he couldn’t respond… to reassure the other man he was still here.

                Somehow though, Hakyeon could tell.  He’d smile – something real and genuine and warm – and Taekwoon would know he understood, even if he couldn’t hold the broken, insecure Captain in his arms again.  As much as he pretended to not like the open affection Hakyeon used to force on him, he missed not being able to do anything at all.  Other than maybe shift his fingers and occasionally grunt or groan.  Or listen to Wonshik…

                That, as much as anything, gave him comfort in the long hours when Hakyeon was gone at work after he had to return from leave.  Or gave him a reprieve from that aggravating Eunkwang during the day.  And despite all the pitiful progress he’d made since essentially being a vegetable, it was frustrating not knowing how to get better.  Not knowing how to fix himself or fix Hakyeon who needed him as much as he needed the other man.  Of course, that was before Wonshik began to change.

                When he first saw the specter, Taekwoon had thought Wonshik was just there, checking in on him and making sure Hakyeon didn’t worry himself to death.  He’d already been unconscious for months: first from the accident in the asteroid field and then in cryo after they’d found him and were on their way home, so he didn’t know then what had happened before he woke.  Wonshik had looked just like the last time Taekwoon had seen him, standing beside his bed where Hakyeon was sleeping with both hands wrapped around one of his, as if afraid to let go again.

                 Bright orange hair was perfectly messy, as usual, and he’d seemed so solid.  So real.  He hadn’t said anything then, but Wonshik had smiled sadly, looking at Hakyeon as if he was the only person in the room.  Taekwoon must have done something to draw his attention because then Wonshik was looking at him with the full brunt of that sadness and he didn’t know what to do about it.  Only then, when he tried to speak, did he realize just how damaged he actually was…

                When the others visited later, Ken and Hongbin and Hyuk, he thought it strange that Wonshik wasn’t with them.  Until they told him the news.  And he had no way of letting them know he’d seen the navigation officer himself.  Which was a new kind of frustrating for him.  It only got worse from there too.   His fierce determination to overcome his current condition waned little by little.  Faced with a decided lack of any real progress, his hope turned to frustration, mirroring what he saw that Hakyeon felt, though the other man would never say it out loud.

                The blame the Captain shouldered for everything galled Taekwoon.  So did not being able to reassure him.  It hadn’t been his fault.  None of it.  A computer malfunction at the asteroid field had thrown Taekwoon to the mercy of space and it had ultimately been Hakyeon’s dogged persistence that had saved him.  He knew that, but the Captain couldn’t let go of the feeling of thinking he got Wonshik killed and that made him angry.

                Wonshik chose to go back.  He knew the risks and went anyway.  Granted, if he hadn’t, both Hakyeon and Taekwoon would probably have been dead but it was his decision.  Ironically, for a time, that was something the specter agreed with him on…

                He probably would have gone mad if Wonshik hadn’t been there to be honest, constantly talking to him and responding as if he understood Taekwoon’s thoughts.  But the more the specter talked and watched the way that Hakyeon continued to try and hold on, the more he began to change too.  Words that were once flippant and cajoling, meant to tease good-naturedly like he used to when he was alive, turned to self-blame and he first became somewhat transparent, drifting on the edges of Taekwoon’s periphery eerily.

                The constant muttering and whispering that followed became annoying in their own right.  As far as Taekwoon could tell, Wonshik never appeared anywhere else except at the house, and when it was just them, he showed up off and on.  But whenever Hakyeon was present, he was almost always in sight.  Sometimes he’d just watch Hakyeon or get close to try and offer what insubstantial comfort he could.  Other times he’d talk at the other man and to Taekwoon intermittently.  But then his demeanor changed and so did his reactions.

                It was somewhat alarming as the spirit practically clung to Hakyeon every time he came home, begging forgiveness or wondering why the Captain hadn’t listened.  By the time Wonshik started to speak mostly to himself, Taekwoon could follow the specter in the hover chair Hakyeon had gotten him, just watching with keen eyes.  He saw the way his form flickered between nearly transparent and shadowy at irregular intervals.  When he saw him at all anyway.  There were times he disappeared all day, only to show up when Hakyeon returned home where he would then hound him like some sort of shade.

                Taekwoon was of the mind that it was creepy but mostly acceptable, until he noticed that Hakyeon started to suffer for it.  The increased presence of the specter led directly to Hakyeon being tired all the time.  He was drained and never able to get enough sleep and while the doctors couldn’t figure it out, Taekwoon knew what was wrong.

                Wonshik.

                He didn’t exactly know why or how, but the specter was draining Hakyeon, stealing his energy for himself.  Every time he latched on to the other man’s side, clinging to his material form with shadowy hands, Wonshik got a little darker, a little stronger.  And Hakyeon… he kept holding on but he was fading.  Faster now.

                And there was nothing Taekwoon could do about it.

                Except maybe get better and that simply wasn’t happening fast enough.

                His fingers tightened around the handles of his chair and Taekwoon stared at Hakyeon and Hongbin sitting at the kitchen table.  He didn’t see Wonshik anywhere at the moment, but that wasn’t entirely surprising.  The specter didn’t show up much when someone else was around after all.

                “I’m sorry for making you come out here,” Hakyeon sighed with his hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea this time, watching the wispy strands of steam rise up before they dissipated in the air.

                Hongbin reached across the table and gripped Hakyeon’s wrist lightly.  “You didn’t make me do anything, Captain,” he smiled, the expression a little forced.  “Besides.  The time away from your job will probably do you good and there are far worse things for me than calling observing you ‘work’,” he chuckled, looking towards Taekwoon with crinkled eyes.

                He managed the barest of nods in response, but it was enough to make the expression on Hongbin’s face genuine.  That was something at least.  Now if only he could do the same for Hakyeon.  It had been a week since he’d ‘fainted’ at home, as the doctors called it, and Wonshik had been relatively quiet since then.  Oh, Taekwoon had seen him, felt him, on the edges of his awareness, but he hadn’t tried to touch Hakyeon since then.

                Not since Taekwoon had yelled at him.

                ‘Stop it.’

                It had barely been more than a clipped bark issued through clenched teeth but they were the first, whole words he’d spoken in almost a year, and they were filled with every bit of emotion he could muster.  He’d surprised himself as much as he’d surprised Wonshik.  Taekwoon could still clearly see the expression on the specter’s face as he looked up from Hakyeon’s unconscious body, complexion dark and eyes nightmarishly pale.

                What?

                The question had gone unanswered, a thin whisper of sound in the air between them that only Taekwoon had ever been able to hear.  But that didn’t mean Wonshik didn’t already know it.  He’d stood up then, looking almost solid in that moment.  His presence was certainly real enough and Taekwoon remembered shivering at the feeling, but he hadn’t backed down and he refused to look away.

                Wonshik regarded him curiously, as if seeing Taekwoon for the first time, and left without another word.  He simply faded into the ether, or wherever it was that he went when he wasn’t in sight.  And Taekwoon felt better than he had in months.  Except Hakyeon was hurt.  Fortunately, it hadn’t been anything severe: exhaustion the doctors said, but that didn’t absolve Taekwoon from his guilt about it.

                “I am glad you’re here.”  The words pulled Taekwoon back into the moment and he focused on the pair again.  Hakyeon was beaming at him and the expression filled him with a sense of wonder that he wished he could capture and hold onto.  “And Taekwoonie is too,” he added with a wave at the hover chair bound man.  “He hasn’t moved this much in months.”

                Hongbin chuckled with another look at Taekwoon as well, who suddenly felt self-conscious about their scrutiny.  “That’s because you’re home to see him, Cap.”

                “And I’m feeling better too.  Especially since you’ve joined us,” Hakyeon added, resting one of his hands on top of Hongbin’s wrist in turn.

                Taekwoon suspected that was due in part because he hadn’t been bothered by Wonshik since Hongbin’s appearance but it also worried him.  He didn’t trust that it would last.  Not with how things had been progressing most recently.  And the specter’s latest disappearance felt too much like he was biding his time or waiting for something.  Taekwoon didn’t like it which made him more vigilant than usual.  Not that there was much he could do but it helped to keep him focused and thinking.

                It almost felt like he was getting ready for a fight, if he had to describe it.

                “Sometimes I think that rest and good company are the only things we need to heal certain hurts,” their former medic sighed in amusement, getting up so he could refill his tea mug.

                “Maybe you’re right,” Hakyeon took a deep breath while he stretched in his chair, raising his arms up above his head, nearly revealing his torso when the light blue shirt he was wearing inched up too.  “But if that’s the case, Minhyuk will forever be jealous he wasn’t the ‘good company’ you’re talking about.”

                “You could always invite him over too,” Hongbin reminded the other man as he sat back down and sipped at his drink with a bemused expression.

                Hakyeon leaned forward with a thoughtful look on his face, pushing the mug with his fingertips gently.  “Perhaps I will.”  His gaze pulled away to meet Taekwoon’s and he smiled again, apparently genuinely happy in that moment.

                Taekwoon wished he could make it last forever.

                He wasn’t fool enough to believe he could.  Not with the way things currently stood especially.

                But that didn’t stop him from wanting to try.

                Both men turned to look at him when Taekwoon directed the hover chair towards the table until he was close enough to touch it.  Neither said a word when his face scrunched up with focus and he concentrated on raising his hand from the armrest.  It took every bit of his mental willpower to stare at the shaky limb and order it to do what he wanted, but it responded at last, seeming to take an eternity when it did.

                Breathing harder than usual, Taekwoon forced his limb past the usual point of the easy to reach control panel on his chair.  Unblinking, he watched his trembling hand inch over the table, moving further and further until his fingertips could finally touch Hakyeon’s arm without him having to lean forward, a motion that would have been too much for him just then.  It was the barest of contact, he knew, but when he looked up to meet Hakyeon’s watery eyes, it was enough.

                “Here.”  It didn’t quite come out the way he wanted it.  He’d meant to say ‘I’m here’ but the words wouldn’t form.  Not that it mattered.

                Hakyeon took a shaky breath at the single utterance, glanced at Hongbin whose eyes were just as shimmery, and then grabbed Taekwoon’s hand in his, bringing the fingers to his lips.  “Yes you are, baby,” he cried softly, his tears tracing sparkling trails down his cheeks.  “Yes you are,” he added, getting up so he could run his fingers through Taekwoon’s hair to cup the back of his head.  Hakyeon kissed his forehead while he held the other hand to his chest and took a shuddering breath.

                Hongbin didn’t say anything but his approval was a warm sensation in the room.  It was almost enough to banish the chill that Taekwoon continued to feel despite his accomplishment.  Almost.

                In the days that followed, Wonshik’s general absence and Hongbin’s presence did wonders for Hakyeon where he slept better – always by Taekwoon’s side, he had more energy, and his pallor began to return to the healthy, tanner shade it should have been.  At moments, Taekwoon wondered if perhaps he hadn’t managed to banish the specter, a thought that made him feel far better than he thought it would.  But he could still feel him somewhere.  While Taekwoon worked hard to regain what he’d lost, making one baby step after another, he knew Wonshik was out there.

                Prowling.

                Watching.

                Waiting.

                “Are you sure you have to go?” Hakyeon practically whined as he stood beside Taekwoon but looked at Hongbin with a pout.  He rested his hand on Taekwoon’s shoulder and propped his other on his hip, very much the mother-hen Minhyuk had accused him of being in that moment.

                Hongbin laughed at the sight and shook his head.  “If you wanted me to stay longer, you shouldn’t have gotten better,” he chided, though it was clear he was happy about that development.

                “Yeah well,” Hakyeon shrugged, relaxing enough to step away from Taekwoon so he could approach the medic.  “Thanks for everything,” he smiled gratefully.  “It’s been good for both of us,” he confirmed with a nod towards the man in the hover chair.  At Taekwoon’s confirming grunt, both men standing grinned broadly.  “See?”

                “I’m just glad that things are looking up,” Hongbin sighed, grabbing Hakyeon’s shoulders in his hands so he could look at him better.

                “Me too,” Hakyeon agreed, stepping into the other man’s arms so he could hug him tightly.

                Taekwoon smiled at the sight, glad to see Hakyeon happy, if nothing else, but as soon as Hongbin hugged him back, the atmosphere changed.  The chill that had existed just outside of his awareness returned sharply, flooding the room in seconds so that their breath misted before them and ice crystals crept over the glass-like surfaces.

                “Huh?” Hongbin frowned, holding tighter to Hakyeon as he looked around in confusion.

                “Oh no,” Hakyeon whispered while he pressed close to the taller man, a pained expression on his face.

                “No,” Taekwoon rasped, staring at the specter who made his return at last.

                With a tortured snarl, the black shadow rose up beside Hongbin and Hakyeon, tearing the pair apart with inhuman strength.  Hongbin flew across the kitchen with a panicked cry and crashed into the cabinets near the stove, cracking the transitioning panes before he fell to the tiled floor, unmoving.  Hakyeon was pushed across the ground, sliding over the hard surface until he hit the opposite wall with far less force.  Taekwoon remained untouched save for the chill in the air and darkness that fell over the room when the lights blinked erratically and then failed altogether.

                “Taekwoon?” Hakyeon’s voice rose thinly from the shadows, his shrouded figure hard to see where he was curled up against the wall, hands mostly covering his face.

                “Here,” Taekwoon huffed, directing the hover chair to move immediately as he tried to close the distance between them.

                Incorporeal hands grabbed him before he could react, yanking him out of the chair with the sound of ripping fabric.  The straps to hold him in tore under the force and Taekwoon found himself on the floor in a disoriented heap, listening to Hakyeon’s frightened scream and the whisper of words in the air above him.

                No.  Should have died.  He was mine.  He left me.  Left me to die.

                The words jumbled together, becoming incoherent one moment and crystal clear the next, but it didn’t help Taekwoon understand any better all the same.  “Stop it!” he growled, hands balling into fists as his emaciated body tried to respond to his demands.

                This time, it didn’t work.

                Should be with me!

                Hakyeon screamed again, the sound shrill and pained.  “Wonshik please!” he sobbed as if the name could ward off whatever horror was befalling him.

                “Move!” Taekwoon hissed at himself, lambasting his uncooperative body for not reacting like he needed it to.  His hands opened and closed and he could feel the remaining muscles in his arms and legs twitching, like they were trying to do as he commanded, but it wasn’t enough.  Hakyeon’s pained cries however, were.  They goaded him into rolling onto his back so he could finally turn his head and see through the shadows.

                Wonshik was hunched over Hakyeon’s body, talon like fingers sunk into the pinned body beneath him as if he never intended to let go.  The longer he perched on top of the other man, the more solid he seemed to become.  And all while Hakyeon writhed and scrabbled at the floor futilely, trying to get away but utterly unable to do so.  “Taekwoon!” he cried out with a broken voice, reaching frantically towards the downed man in the middle of the kitchen floor.

                A litany of curses poured through Taekwoon’s mind, none of which made it past his lips, but his anger roiled off him in waves like something alive.  If nothing else, that drew the specter’s attention and he turned a dead eyed face lost in inky blackness towards Taekwoon.  As frightening as the visage was, with lifeless, white orbs and vague facial features, he didn’t flinch.  Oh so slowly, he managed to uncurl his left arm from near his body and gradually point at what was left of Wonshik.  “You,” he challenged, breathing hard with the effort.  If he couldn’t get to the specter, he needed it to come to him.

                Wonshik opened an impossibly large mouth and howled at him, the sound slicing through Taekwoon’s body almost as if it was made of knives.  It hurt, but the specter retracted his talons from Hakyeon’s back and stood up, hunched over and looming, a monster in the darkness.  Your fault.

                “Yes.”  It didn’t matter if it was or not.  If that thing needed something… someone to blame, let him blame Taekwoon.  So long as it brought him closer and away from Hakyeon.

                The specter pounced, flickering through darkness to seemingly appear at Taekwoon’s side.  Shadow talons drove into his outstretched hand, pinning the limb to the floor though the flesh remained unbroken.  He screamed as if the claws were real, feeling adrenaline pour into his system in an instant when his body reacted.

                Wonshik placed his other hand on Taekwoon’s chest and leaned close, the tips of his talons pressing hard against the flesh.  Your.  Guilt.  Taekwoon frowned at the words, not sure what it meant, but then he saw the eyes flicker for the briefest of moments, white becoming brown with black pupils once more and then back again.  You’re guilty.  Talons pressed into his chest and he screamed.

                Pain consumed him, but it told him he was alive.  It coursed through his body, shaking every unresponsive nerve to some sort of wakefulness until he was sure he should die then and there.  But he didn’t.  And Wonshik – the specter, whatever he or it was – was still there.  Still attached to him as he’d been since the other man died in the accident that should have claimed him and Hakyeon instead.

                Taekwoon’s right hand rose up, erratic in its path, but he gripped Wonshik’s throat and held tight.  “Enough.”  The word could have meant so many things: enough of the pain; enough of the guilt; enough of sticking around; enough of everything…  And for a moment, he wasn’t sure even he knew what he meant by it.

                No!  Angry refutation.

                “Go!” Taekwoon commanded as the talons retracted from his chest.

                No.  Weakened denial that time.

                Taekwoon pulled the specter close and spat out, “I.  Don’t.  Need.  You.”  Not like he used to when he finally regained consciousness.  Not anymore.  He was done with somebody else carrying the burden of his helplessness.

                Your fault, the specter whispered almost uncertainly, pulling his talons free from Taekwoon’s arm as he knelt over the downed man.

                “No,” Taekwoon shook his head.  “No one’s fault,” he stated simply, swallowing hard as he continued to stare at Wonshik.  And even if someone was to blame, it no longer mattered anymore.

                Wonshik stared back and then convulsed in Taekwoon’s hold.  His eyes rolled into the back of his head and the specter wailed.  Shadows roiled over his body while patches of color tried to return, bubbling up from beneath and spreading in slowly growing pools.  Taekwoon watched in horrified fascination until the shadows receded at last, leaving none other than Wonshik in their place: the Wonshik he’d seen when first awakening in the hospital room for the first time in months.

                That was a close one, Wonshik smiled wearily with a lopsided expression as he gripped Taekwoon’s wrist gently, holding on without trying to pull the hand away.  Though back to his initial appearance, he looked faded and insubstantial.  Even for a ghost.

                “Yeah,” Taekwoon agreed without really understanding what he was agreeing with.  Was it a close thing that the specter had almost killed Hakyeon and Taekwoon?  Or was it close that Wonshik had almost become a vengeful, murderous ghost.  Both?  Something else entirely…?

                Maybe next time, don’t take so long to get better, he teased with a sad glance over at the unconscious Hongbin and then Hakyeon in particular, letting his gaze linger.

                Taekwoon would hardly consider himself better.  The other thought of ‘Maybe next time you shouldn’t haunt me,’ also didn’t emerge, but he kind of thought he understood what the ghost was saying.  It would have been better if there hadn’t been an accident in the first place but such was the nature of accidents.  Worrying about, regretting, and placing blame when they happened did no one any good in the aftermath.  Not Taekwoon.  Not Wonshik.  And certainly not Hakyeon.  “We good?” he asked instead, not really responding to the first statement at all.

                Wonshik turned back to look at Taekwoon and he didn’t say anything for a long moment.  Yeah, he finally nodded at length with a thoughtful but content expression on his face.  I think we are.  At the comment, Taekwoon actually sighed in relief and was tempted to close his eyes.  He didn’t when Wonshik spoke again.  Take care of him for, would you?  You can now, after all.  And…  Both men turned to look at Hakyeon who had yet to come around.  He chose you.

                “I will,” Taekwoon whispered without looking at the specter.  He closed his eyes and swallowed the unexpected tears that pricked them when he felt Wonshik’s presence simply vanish.  “I will,” he whispered again and took a deep shaky breath.  After a moment, he opened his eyes to look at the man nearby and called out, “Hakyeon.”

(a/n: And pretty much done for all intents and purposes but I do have an epilogue coming up so please stick around a bit longer if you're curious to see how things wrap up from here!  Thank you to those who have subbed and read along - especially to those who have shared their thoughts along the way - and I hope you guys enjoy(ed) the last bit!  ^_^  Thanks for sharing this journey with me!  <3)