wasteland, baby!

16

All of Jungwon's dreams since this whole apocalypse started have been infested with nothing but images of zombies tearing him apart.

They've been dreams of him having to relive the day his classmates had all been wiped out, bitten and killed and changed into something completely different.

He's had to relive Sunoo and Jake's death dozens of times now.

His dreams had been nothing but nightmares that caused him to wake up in cold sweats, panic attacks, and heavy breathing— clutching at his chest because the phantom pain of his heart getting ripped out in his dreams still lingered even after he'd woken up.

Tampa's always awake each time it happens and just gives Jungwonnan empathetic look, reaching out to touch his shoulder tentatively and giving it a small squeeze when Jungwon doesn't move it away. Jungwon's hand shoots out and clutches on tightly to the fabric of Tampa's shirt.

"Hey, hey, hey, you're okay," Tampa murmurs softly and searches his eyes, trying to hold his gaze and Jungwon tries to focus on them. "Breathe, Canada, breathe. Deep breaths, come on, follow my breathing." He starts breathing in and then out, in and out, in and out, deeply and slowly and Jungwon tries his best to follow.

He calms down after a while and finally lets go of Tampa's shirt. His hand falls limply to his side.

"Thanks," he breathes out shakily.

Tampa just nods, still looking into his eyes, looking like he wants to ask Jungwon something, but then changing his mind at the last second. Tampa just gives him a small twitch of his lips before giving his shoulder another small squeeze and heading back to the spot where he more than likely hadn't been sleeping in.

Jungwon wakes up from another nightmare that same night, but he calms himself down by remembering Tampa's breathing. The phantom warmth of his hand on his shoulder still lingering there, keeping him grounded enough.