Work Text:
Martyr Burnout
A Final Fantasy XV fanfiction
He notices during the later hours of the night. Maybe even earlier than that, but these last few hours had been somewhat of a blur.
The last few hours whence the gang had made the fatal mistake of jumping down a trapdoor. One particular trap door in the vicinity of the Crown City barricade, to which they'd realized it led to a veritable network of sewer tunnels, with the lovely addition of daemons, switch-opened doors and the ever-classic sewer water sloshing at their feet. Sometimes even pulling them down into an actual demon ambush.
"I'd hoped to arrange some food before the inevitable dogpile on the beds." Ignis says, just then. He gestures to his left where both Prompto and Gladio were fast asleep, facedown and in somewhat strange positions.
"Yeah. What time even is it?"
"4 in the morning."
"Seriously?" Noctis checks his phone and grimaces, "How long ago did we even eat?"
"Possibly stretching the limits of starvation right about now."
"Sleep sounds good, though. Better."
"Tell that to yourself the next morning when your stomach starts digesting itself."
"Cannibalism later. Sleepy now."
"It's more along the lines of auto-cannibalism, that."
There's a slight lag in Noctis' reply now, mostly due to the fact that it's taking him several minutes to blink. Even when he manages one, all he can muster up is a simple, "Mmhm. Whatever."
"Noct."
"Mmhm."
"Noctis."
"Mm."
"This is getting us nowhere." Ignis sighs, "...If you're that tired, sleep on the bed. I can't imagine that chair would be too comfortable."
"Feet burn. Foot burning." One of those was correct probably.
Words are really weird, Noctis thinks, Just switch the 'o's in foot, to 'e's and you have the plural. Whoa.
For some reason, Noctis' mind is whirling with this new information, seemingly preoccupied with the semantics of the English language.
"Noct."
"Hm?" When did his eyes close? Noctis opens them again with slight difficulty and blinks. Ignis seems to have turned his back to him at this point, taking his coat off. Evidently, he's given up on the food run.
"You're quite tired. And take your shoes off, that'd help avoid spreading the stench of sewage everywhere."
"Oh. Right."
Through some miraculous feat, Noctis manages to kick his boots off without using his hands and lies back in his chair for just a little longer. Until he starts staring at the bed and figures that yes, Ignis had a point and it'd probably be more comfortable.
Whump.
"Oh." Ignis looks behind him to see the bed he was sitting on was now currently occupied by a sleepy, dirt-smeared prince. "I suppose it'd be too much to ask to have you take a bath before you doze off?"
"I'm definitely going to doze off in there and drown."
"Rather hard for me to help you while you're in there, so best to avoid that."
"Mm." Noctis looks at him then. And Ignis knows that look all too well.
Pinched lips, uncertain eyes, a furrowed brow.
"Is something the matter?"
"Are you alright?"
An odd question."Yes, I am. Why?"
"You're...sitting around kind of awkwardly." And an odd answer.
"Awkwardly?"
"I dunno how to explain it. It's like you're holding yourself up kind of carefully. Like you're..." Noctis frowns then, as a new thought seems to have dawned on him.
"Ah. Well, it's nothing. It's just..."
"Ignis." Noctis' tone is stern now. He sounds a good deal more awake than he did a few minutes ago. "Don't even try."
"...Try what now?" Ignis still asks, anyway. He looks away now, as he carefully folds and places his coat next to the bed.
"Lying. And I know when you're lying." Noctis says somewhat stubbornly. The bed creaks a little, possibly him pushing himself up a little to face Ignis.
"I wonder if I've really become that easy to read."
"Nope, just the opposite. But we've known each other for how long now?" A rhetorical question, but Noctis still lets it drift in the silence. He's pulled himself up into a sitting position again, next to Ignis.
"That's true. But there's nothing to worry about. All that fighting from before has just left me somewhat bruised, is all."
"...Bruised?"
"Potions can only heal so much, even with your power behind it, your Highness."
"That..." Noctis looks more worried than ever now and Ignis silently curses his tactless words. Perhaps the late hour had gotten to him more than he realized.
"It's nothing I can't handle."
"Still!" There's a flash of blue and Ignis just then realizes that there's suddenly a potion bottle being pressed into his hands.
"...Noct, I'm fine. I don't have anything serious that I need to seek immediate attention for."
"Forgive me if I don't believe that." Noctis grumbles, leaning in a little closer and frowning. As if he could survey any injuries for himself.
And Ignis leans back, just a bit. "Believe me, then. I'm fine."
"Uh-huh."
"...You don't sound like you believe me."
"Wow, you really are a genius." Comes Noctis' sarcastic reply. Complete with eye-roll.
"You don't look so good yourself."
"I'm fine."
There's a significance in the look that Noctis gives him. Ah, so that was the issue.
He's able to recognize this, because it was another iteration of something that they buried between themselves as the years go by.
"If I was significantly injured, I wouldn't be so foolhardy to go into battle like that."
"You would, if I was in danger." Noctis says quietly, firmly.
They were close enough now that Ignis could see the magic burn in Noctis' eyes.
"I would." Ignis says simply.
"And I don't want that." Noctis takes Ignis' hand now, carefully pulling the glove off with unexpected tenderness.
When he sees the cut on his palm, he pales a bit. "This..."
"Is something easily fixed." Ignis attempts to pull his hand back, but Noctis' grip is as stubborn as it could be.
"It looks like you've done a blood sacrifice in King's Knight." Noctis says sourly, "By impaling yourself on a rusty dagger."
"It looks worse than it is."
"Like hell!"
His voice is a bit too loud and Prompto mumbles sleepily and rolls over.
Ignis tries to look back at the others, but Noctis holds his gaze.
"Just because I'm the prince doesn't mean I need to be protected!"
Pain.
Nothing corporeal, not like that. His wound stung, but it was nothing, nothing like it always was.
It bites at Noctis' expression, in the way he ducks his eyes down, his head down and his shoulders that carry the weight of a world.
At the fingers that cradle Ignis' palm, that feel far too cold.
"You've proven more than capable of protecting yourself."
"It's not enough, apparently." A bitter chuckle and a sigh.
"Sometimes, I think so as well."
It wouldn't be enough.
When gods fall and extend their hands to one man and one woman, with their backs to the wall and the nights growing longer and longer and daemons clawing at their heels...
How on Eos could that possibly be enough?
For one man, let along a lost prince?
"What?" Noctis snaps, but he falls short at seeing Ignis' expression.
"But we don't have the leisure of time for such reflections." Ignis takes his hand away, "I'm merely doing what I always have."
"...You're gonna burn out like this."
"I'll be fine."
"...I don't want to lose you too."
The admission catches Ignis off-guard.
He feels Noctis bury his face against his shoulder.
"Not you too. Not those guys, or anyone else. Not...dammit." He takes a breath and Ignis could feel his hand clutch at his shirt, breathe out softly.
"Nor I, you." Ignis says.
Noctis leans heavily on him now and the fatigue leaks back into his tone, his words.
"Because you've been watching over me."
"I wouldn't be able to bear it either."
Honest, too honest now. Ignis closes his eyes and catches the rest of his thought.
Noctis looks up at him then, he seems to be searching Ignis' expression.
Close. Too close.
Ignis leans back and Noctis looks back down.
"...Sorry. Shouldn't be talking about things like that."
"It would do to open up once in a while, you know."
"Not if it's...nah. Nevermind."
As emotionally tongue-tied as always, Noctis lets his sentences drift into silence.
A slightly awkward silence, more comfortable than it should be.
"Well, we can have another talk like this again, about whatever ails you."
"Yeah, sure. Me losing my shit over dumb things. I'm looking forward to that."
"While you're sarcastic about it, it is in my job description."
"I know. But first and foremost, you're my friend. And I am yours."
The potion bottle is insistently pressed into Ignis' palm again and Ignis relents. He takes it this time, and Noctis sighs, murmuring, "It's not a one-way thing, you know."
"..."
"If that makes any sense."
"It does."
"Cool. I'm...just gonna...nap here for five seconds."
"...What?"
"I'm tired. And you're comfortable."
"Noct, that..."
Too late. There's already a light snoring sound in the air and Ignis looks over, incredulous.
"...Good grief. What a willful prince we have here."
In such an awkward position like this. Ignis resists the urge to laugh, instead heaving a defeated sigh and looking up.
Even now, there's still a mite of heaviness in his heart. Like the tension in the air that surrounds them.
Carefully, so as not to jostle Noctis, he takes his coat again and places it over the boy's shoulder, a makeshift blanket.
Just for a little while.
Just...
His glove lay untouched, off to the side, and his hand under Noctis', strained a little in their rather uncomfortable position.
And Ignis doesn't move it, doesn't pull away. Just settles down, leaning ever so slightly against Noctis' touch.
It was enough.
A pillar to lean on, a shoulder to support him. That's what he spent years as, serving as, being.
It was enough. It has to be.
He feels his own eyes close, with a heavy sigh.
Noctis' hand closes ever so slowly on his.
This was enough.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x