Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Choi Beomgyu; age twenty-three; residing in Daegu with his mother, father, older brother, and pet bird; chronically ill for… seventeen years?”

“Correct.”

“Survivor of childhood cancer, a failed kidney, a collapsed lung, a burst appendix, complications with iritis; currently suffering from lupus, epilepsy, untreated eczema which led to arthritis, highly prone to staph infections; autistic; accompanied with severe depression, anxiety, PTSD – yeah, go figure – dermatillomania, history of self-harm… good Lord, the list is still going?”

“As you can see, this warrant was quite the relief to finally sign off on.”

“What took so long? This kid has been suffering for nearly two decades.”

“Every case is different.”

“I know, but…”

“I understand what you mean. It's time we finally give him the rest he deserves.”

“How long do I have?”

“Three months.”

“Three months?”

“I know, it's an uncommon timeframe, but it would be greatly beneficial.”

“He's still a fighter, huh?”

“Indeed. But all hope is now a lie. His body is dying and he'll need your assistance to ease him over. A young subject is never an easy task, but unfortunately, this will be best for him.”

“I understand.”

“You're the best we have, Taehyun. His friends, family, and doctors can't do anything for him anymore – he needs you now.”

“Yes, sir. I'll visit him tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

Taehyun was no stranger to hospital rooms. It was where most of his talks took place. It was where most of his clients died if not in a home for elderly care. He was used to staring at the face of someone who had lived a long life, their skin carved with wrinkles and eyes full of all of the wonder they had lived through that looking at such smooth youth almost made him uneasy.

He had dealt with very little young people on the border of death. His youngest client was eleven. Hit by a car speeding down the freeway, died days later in the hospital. It wasn't easy on either of them. Although he knew death was the last savior for people like her, convincing a child to let go of their life was a difficult job for anyone. Or maybe convincing wasn't the right word… they are going to die either way, so really all he was doing was telling them what was going to happen whether they fought it or not. No matter the age, he didn't think he would ever get used to seeing the realization hit their face; it was the acceptance he strived for, not the fear that he would have to talk them down from.

Taehyun still had a soul, after all. Not like his clients’, but it was full of compassion nonetheless. He would say he took pride in his work, but he wouldn't say he particularly enjoyed it. There were positives like the relief he would give his clients. It was important to die happy and unafraid than miserable and terrified, but there were also the negatives such as actually watching them die knowing the hole their loss would leave behind.

Choi Beomgyu was definitely not an exception–

The only thing that was odd about this case was the timeframe he was given.

Reading his file, Taehyun didn't think it would take much at all to talk Beomgyu down, for lack of a better term (there really was no nice way to talk about dying, was there?), but that was because he was only given his medical records and what his cause of death would be. He was not given any information about his personal life in terms of relationships and accomplishments, and he could tell from his first glimpse into his hospital room that he was a loved kid.

He had seen and spoken to so many lonely people that he was able to recognize when someone no longer had anyone else to rely on: their room would be just as sparse as the life in their eyes. Sometimes they'd have a memory somewhere around them in the form of a picture, a piece of jewelry, a note, a card, but other times, they'd have nothing. The ones who had something were just a little more of a challenge. People didn't like having nothing and that's what a lot of them saw death as. How could they let go of that birthday card? How could they look at that family picture for the last time? How could they give up the ring so easily? The people who had nothing were much easier to talk to, but that definitely was not Beomgyu either, as even his hospital room that he currently laid in was littered with belongings and gifts.

Taehyun wondered what that giant stuffed bunny meant to him; it must have been something special if that was the only thing that made it onto the bed with him, its fur worn down and slightly discolored from what he could only assume was from years of love and adoration.

Alongside the bunny were both of his parents, also paying Beomgyu a visit. That was a rare sight for Taehyun to see as well, someone who had two whole parents to be there for them at the same time, regardless of how many stays there have been.

They were still awake. Taehyun had thought it was later in the day because of how dark the room was, but it just must have been the curtains. He didn't feel the need to hide, though – they wouldn't be able to see him.

Beomgyu was asleep. That was okay, Taehyun thought, because he had so much time to talk to him; he'd usually begin a conversation almost right away, but he was usually only given three days at most to talk them into letting go, so he felt safe to be able to simply assess the situation, see what would be different and try to pinpoint a start.

The first thing Taehyun had noticed was how long his hair was: it was more uncommon for him to see a full head of hair than a barren scalp. It was swept out of his resting face and a bit greasy, though Taehyun never judged. Taking care of yourself becomes a chore when your body starts to betray you. He couldn't blame anyone in this position for their haircare not being at the top of their priority list.

The second thing Taehyun noticed was how slim he was; again, a common sight to see, but he would not have guessed that Beomgyu was in his twenties because of how small he was. It made Taehyun wonder how many times he had relied on only that IV and those oxygen tubes.

After taking in what he could see of Beomgyu, he watched the parents for a few minutes. They were calm. What else could they afford to be? This place must have been a second home to them as well judging by the way the father laid so comfortably on the couch and how the mother embroidered quietly on the chair as if they were just sitting in their living room.

They must have gotten used to the sound of the heart monitor. Perhaps they even found it soothing knowing that their son’s heart was still beating steadily.

Though he knew why he couldn't, sometimes he wished he was able to talk to the family and friends of his client as well, especially when he could very clearly see how dear they are to them.

They deserved to know that their hospital visits were going to end soon, they deserved to know that all of these gifts would soon sit unowned, and they deserved to know how limited their time was.

They deserved to know their son was going to die exactly three months from now.

Chapter Text

Today, Taehyun planned to talk to Beomgyu for the first time; he was only one of hundreds he had spoken to, and perhaps it was because of how odd this case already was, but he almost felt nervous.

It had been just over twenty-four hours since Taehyun had paid his first visit, and not much had changed: though asleep, his parents were still sitting right where they had been, his mother’s embroidery project in her lap, floss still connected to the needle. She must have fallen asleep while working. Taehyun couldn't blame her – the parents must have been exhausted, too.

The giant bunny was still sitting on the bed with Beomgyu. He was holding its hand. Taehyun didn't realize he was awake until he began to mindlessly play with the stuffed animal, eyes still closed but the movement was conscious.

Taehyun took this as his chance. He could tell when Beomgyu could feel the shift in the atmosphere as Taehyun’s energy pulsed into the room, but he didn't panic. He didn't even look alarmed, and his heart continued to beat regularly. Taehyun let the change sit for a moment before he manifested.

“Hello,” he greeted calmly and steadily when he knew Beomgyu saw him. There was no pity in his eyes nor sadness in his voice. He simply spoke to Beomgyu as if he were meeting him under any normal circumstance.

“Hi,” Beomgyu greeted back. His voice was much deeper than Taehyun had imagined, but it sounded just as fragile, looking at that face. That tired, pale, sunken face.

Typically, this is where Taehyun would introduce himself and what he was, but given he wasn't on an average time crunch, he stated only, “I'm Taehyun.”

Beomgyu blinked slowly, seemingly unphased by the encounter. Taehyun imagined it was difficult to care right now. “I'm Beomgyu.”

“I know.”

Again, no reaction. Just steady breaths. “Why are you here?”

“My job,” Taehyun answered after some consideration. Beomgyu wasn't in a state to drop such a heavy bombshell on him, which usually wouldn't matter since Taehyun would usually only have a few days to prepare him for death, but again, this wasn't a usual case. He could afford to feed him information slowly. “It requires me to visit you every day for a while.”

And it seemed even if Taehyun had explained further, Beomgyu wasn't interested in knowing, or maybe he knew he wouldn't have been able to maintain the information, because all he said was, “Okay.”

“Don't worry about me right now,” he said even though Beomgyu didn't at all look like he was. He just had no way of knowing what he was thinking. That was an ability that did not come with the job. “I'll be gone when you wake up. I just wanted to meet you so you're familiar with me tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Beomgyu closed his eyes and fell quiet, but Taehyun didn't leave until his fingers stopped running through the bunny’s fur, until he was asleep.

Chapter Text

“So you weren't a dream.”

“No, I wasn't.”

“I thought you were. Sorry.”

“It's alright.”

Beomgyu looked better today. He didn't look well by any stretch of the imagination, but compared to just yesterday night, he at least looked a little more alive with colored cheeks and full eyes.

Taehyun had yet to get it out of his head that this was not the day Choi Beomgyu was going to die. He still had fifty-eight days left. Fifty-seven after this one passed, and it was coming to an end soon.

“I'm just glad you remember me,” Taehyun said after a moment of silence. “I was worried you might not.”

“I wasn't.” If Taehyun wasn't mistaken, there was humor in his voice. “You told me not to.”

He grinned slightly. “Right. I did. I'm glad you seem to be a good listener, too.”

Beomgyu smiled back.

“Where are your parents?” Taehyun asked, deciding to ease into the hard conversation. He planned on telling Beomgyu today that he was going to die, but he had the time to do it slowly so he was going to take it.

He gestured toward the empty couch. Beomgyu stared at it guiltily. “Dad had to take a night shift. Mom’s driving him.”

“That's not your fault.”

“I know. But he worked hard all day so I'm concerned.” He then looked at Taehyun curiously, pulling his bunny closer to him. Not because he was afraid, but because he was cold and shivering a little. The stuffed animal looked very warm. “What do you do? Are you a student?” He glanced around the room as if looking for a hiding doctor, finding it odd how Taehyun was alone.

It took Taehyun a few seconds to understand what he meant. He debated on just outright telling the whole truth, but he decided on half. “No, but I help sick people feel safe and comfortable.”

“Isn't that what a doctor or nurse does?”

“Partially. But I don't help you with your sickness like they do.”

“Oh.” Beomgyu tugged the bunny halfway onto his lap. “I think I'd be more comfortable if it were warmer in here. Could you tell them that?”

“I can't.”

His brows furrowed. It was the most expression Taehyun had seen on his face so far. “Why?”

This was the start of it. Taehyun wasn't used to feeling nervous, but he was. Very. “They can't see me.”

Beomgyu’s confusion deepened along with his frown and eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“You're the only one I can communicate with.”

“So you're, like, a ghost or something?”

Taehyun tilted his head. His presence has a calming effect, yes, but this child was more nonchalant than he was used to dealing with. He couldn't even tell if he believed what he was saying. “Or something, yes.”

“So you're not dead?”

“Technically I never lived.”

“So you're a demon?”

“No. Well – some may consider me so.”

“But you're not evil.”

“No. I am not evil.”

“Are you an angel?”

“Some may say so.”

Beomgyu stared at him. “You're confusing.”

Taehyun couldn't help but chuckle. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“Well, what would you call yourself, then?”

He felt a little taken aback. Although he knew the answer, he'd never been asked before, so he hesitated as if he didn't. “A psychopomp.”

“What the heck is that?”

Taehyun took in a soundless breath through his nose; typically, he could get a read on someone to determine how they'd react to the news, but with Beomgyu, he actually wasn't sure if he'd be calm and understanding (the pain and exhaustion he'd endured would suggest this), or frantic and disbelieving (his chattiness and liveliness would suggest that).

There was only one way to find out.

“A psychopomp can be considered many things, such as an angel or a demon depending on who you ask and what their beliefs are. Some people believe me to be bad, or good, or some people even believe me to be a deity or animalistic – no matter who you are or what form I come in, I'm called to this world for only one reason.” His eyes met Beomgyu’s with sincerity. The gears were already turning in the boy’s head. “To help you cross the bridge between life and death.”

Taehyun almost felt guilty when the color left Beomgyu’s face.

“So I'm going to die.”

Taehyun nodded solemnly. “Yes.”

“Tonight?”

“No.”

“Soon?”

“Yes.”

Beomgyu sat frozen for a couple of seconds before he started to shake his head. “No, you're lying. This is just some sick joke.”

It was then when the door opened and his mother walked in. She was accompanied by a nurse.

Taehyun stepped up against the wall, quiet with a bowed head.

“You're still awake?” His mother sat on the couch and began rubbing her arms. She didn't even look in Taehyun’s direction. “Wow, it's chilly in here.”

“Odd,” the nurse commented, and she did turn toward Taehyun. Beomgyu watched intently as she approached him, seemingly looking right into his face, but she only hummed, unbothered by the stranger standing just a foot away from her. “The A/C isn't even on.”

“What's wrong, Honey?” Beomgyu’s mother asked suddenly. She pressed the back of her hand against Beomgyu’s cheek and forehead, her eyes wide and sparkly with nothing but worry. “You're pale again– and cold.” She pulled a corded blanket out from underneath the bed, plugged it in, and began bundling a silent Beomgyu up. “Here you go, Baby. It'll be nice and warm for you really soon.”

Taehyun looked up when he felt the staring persist.

No one else could see him.

He knew Beomgyu believed him.