(( Hello hello~ I know today's only Wednesday, but I'm almost done with the final chapter, and I figure you all have waited so patiently through the months that I've been writing this, and deserve two updates this week ^^ So we have today, and the final one will be up Friday :3

Thank you all for coming along this story with me, I'm going to miss seeing responses from you, I just want to be friends with you all and have conversations about all kinds of things, but I know some readers don't really want that and just want updates, which is why I haven't tried to friend request all of you that and I may or may not be a coward

Anywho, here we go~

P.s Is anyone interested in the order that both Waiting and Fragmenting go for the time lines to be in order? Because some of Fragmenting happens before the prologue of Waiting and some are after. If someone comments that they are I'll put that order in the author's note in the final chapter))

“You sure you want to do this?” Jongdae asked as the other stared at the iron gates of the cemetery.

“I need to,” Chanyeol replied and Jongdae glanced at ZiTao then back at Chanyeol who was opening the gate. Jongdae took the lead once inside, passing several rows of graves before he started down one and stopped a few head stones in, pointing to Baekhyun’s; Chanyeol had stopped a couple graves shy, staring at the head stone. He winced at the sting in his hand, looking down when he felt ZiTao’s hands encase his own, causing his to realize he had been digging his fingernails into his palm. Chanyeol looked back to the headstone, taking slow steppes to it, ZiTao letting go of his hand when Chanyeol reached out to touch the engraving.

“I… I’m so sorry Baekhyun,” He said, his throat tightening. “For my stupid, stupid prank, for forgetting… for everything,” He said, his vision blurring and he winced, his hand moving to the side of his head when a voice echoed through it.

“I’m Baekhyun, I moved into the apartments down the road.”

Chanyeol wince again, a throb starting in the base of his skull.

“You kind of remind me of my best friend back home. I don’t feel so alone.”

“Chanyeol!” ZiTao’s voce silenced the one ringing through his head and he opened his eyes. ZiTao was standing between him and the grave, his hands on either side of Chanyeol’s face; something he had gotten used to. “You started hyperventilating again.” ZiTao said as Chanyeol reached up to place his hands over the other’s.

“I guess that. You really only hold my face like this when I do,” He replied, feeling one of ZiTao’s hands slip out from underneath his, grabbing a hold of it before ZiTao pulled Chanyeol back from the grave.

“I think that’s enough for today. Let’s head home,” He prompted, eyes flickering to Jongdae who seemed tense. “You’re coming back with us, right?” ZiTao asked, Jongdae looking away from them. “Today’s been stressful for you too, I don’t think you should be alone,” He added and Jongdae nodded once. ZiTao offered a small sale that he hoped was comforting, and then lead Chanyeol from the graves and back towards the entrance.

Jongdae looked over at the grave stone, sighing and shaking his head. He started to follow after the pair when his mobile began vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out, rolling his eyes at the caller ID before ignoring it and shoving the device back into his pocket, trailing after the pair. By the time they were parked in front of ZiTao’s apartment Chanyeol’s breathing had fully returned to normal and he laughed when ZiTao was still insistent on helping him up the stairs.

“I got him,” Jongdae said, nudging ZiTao out of the way. “You go and unlock the door,” He added and the blond hurried up the steps. Chanyeol cracked a smile, hardly letting Jongdae take any of his weight as they followed ZiTao. Jongdae let him go when they crossed the studio apartment and got to ZiTao’s bed, and Chanyeol was sliding off his shoes when he noticed Jongdae pick up ZiTao’s pillow. He looked over at the brunet, cocking an eyebrow when the other pressed his face into the pillow, pulling back and frowning down at it.

“What… what are you doing?” Chanyeol asked, Jongdae looking over at him before back down at the pillow.

“He uses the same laundry detergent that Baekhyun did,” He said, setting the pillow back onto the bed and looking to Chanyeol as the dark haired male’s eyes widened.

“The first time my night terror was different was the first time I woke up in ZiTao’s bed,” Chanyeol said, ZiTao coming to stand by him.

“You had a panic attack the second time you were here too,” He pointed out. “Psychologists have proven scent to be the most powerful memory trigger, maybe that’s why those things happened while you were here,” He suggested, Chanyeol nodding and leaning into ZiTao’s tough when the blond placed a hand on his cheek, sighing.

~

ZiTao’s face scrunched up before his eyes opened and he blinked a few times before he looked over at the clock. 3:26 in the morning. Perfect time to be awake. He thought, turning his head to check on Chanyeol, who was pressed into his side with one arm over ZiTao’s chest and a leg over ZiTao’s hips. The blond cracked a small smile that grew at the sleepy noise of protest that Chanyeol let out when ZiTao wiggled out from his hold. He fixed the overs when he saw Chanyeol had managed to kick half of them off the bed, brushing a few strands of dark strands away from the older’s face.

“I’m glad you’re sleeping again,” He murmured before padding over to his desk, clicking on the desk light and opening his laptop. Chanyeol wasn’t having his night terrors anymore, and on most nights ZiTao wasn’t sure if they were better or worse than Chanyeol not being able to close his eyes without being bombarded with memories that kept his up at night.

As the weeks went by he was able to sleep a little here and there, but he had to withdraw from his classes and take a leave from working at the bar. It made ZiTao thankful that the diner they went to was open all hours with how erratic Chanyeol’s sleep schedule had become- it made ZiTao feel normal for once. But with the way the night was going it seemed like Chanyeol was going to sleep soundly for the first time since he got his memory back, since he straight up refused to take his sleeping medication, saying those were just to keep the night terrors away.

Have an hour passed before that hope fell through as he heard a soft whine from the bed. ZiTao leaned back from his desk as he looked over at Chanyeol, pushing himself from the desk and making his way back to the bed when he heard another. Chanyeol was gripping the sheet, pressing his face into the bed as his head seemed to have slipped off the pillow. ZiTao moved onto the bed, tracing his fingertips over the back of Chanyeol’s hand and his grip eased the longer ZiTao did.

“Shh,” ZiTao murmured in response to the whine Chanyeol let out as ZiTao peeled his hand from the sheet and set it on his thigh. “You’re okay, I’m right here,” He soothed softly, Chanyeol turning his head so his cheek was against the bed instead of his entire face. His shoulders relaxed for a short moment before he grabbed at the fabric of ZiTao’s sleep pants, his lower lips trembling as he let out a whimper that made ZiTao’s heart sting. He reached out, lifting Chanyeol’s head just enough to scoot closer and set the other’s head into his lap, running his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair.

“Sorry.”

“You’re okay.”

“Sorry.”

“Shh,” ZiTao pulled his hand back when Chanyeol stirred, watching the other push himself up just enough to drape himself over ZiTao, pressing his face into the blond’s neck as his entire frame trembled.

“I’m so sorry, Baekhyun.” ZiTao’s mind stuttered before he slowly wrapped one arm around Chanyeol’s waist, carding his fingers thought Chanyeol’s hair again.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s only a bad dream…” he said softly, feeling Chanyeol’s body soon relax again. When his breath evened out ZiTao moves him again, laying him back down and pulling the covers over him once more but staying by his side.

>I think we should get Chanyeol into therapy

>Therapy doesn’t do .

>Have you ever tried it?

When three hours passes and Jongdae still hadn’t replied, ZiTao sighed and gave up on support from the other. He looked across the bar to the stage Chanyeol was back on after his two week absence. He had been back for only a few days, and seemed to be doing better with work adding some structure to his sleep schedule.

“How is he?” ZiTao looked over at Junmyeon who was watching Chanyeol and shook his head as he leaned forward to prop himself up on the bar.

“In some ways he’s better, and other ways he’s worse.”

“Loss can have that effect,” The owner said and ZiTao checked his mobile in hopes of Jongdae replying.

“I wish his so-called best friend would help me get him help,” ZiTao grumbled and Junmyeon looked over at him.

“The friend that helped him get a gig here?”

“Yeah. They both lost the same person, but his friend seems to think therapy is a waste of time,” ZiTao huffed. “But he’s not the one trying to soothe Chanyeol through his nightmares and anxiety attacks, where the only thing he can say is repeated words of blaming himself for their friend’s death, almost every night. I just… I want him to be okay, I know he’s in pain and no matter how much I love him and want to make him better, I… I know that’s not something I’m capable of doing, I’m not a professional.”

“Have you told him that?” ZiTao frowned, looking over at Junmyeon. “That you’re this worried about him,” The other clarified and ZiTao looked down at the bar. “You should,” He added, placing a hand on ZiTao’s shoulder. “I don’t think he wants to be like this anymore either, but sometimes it’s hard to say you need help. Sometimes you need a nudge towards recovery.” ZiTao looked over at Chanyeol as the crowd applauded, Junmyeon leaving his side long before Chanyeol got back to the bar.

“You okay?” Chanyeol asked, and ZiTao reached up, twisting one of the studs in his lobe.

“No, but I’m not the one you should be worried about. I… I think it’s time that we get you help.” Chanyeol stared at him, inhaling deeply as his shoulders came up, letting them droop when he let it out, hanging his head.

“…Yeah.”