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Gladio must have drifted off to sleep sometime during the night, because he woke with the sun shining brightly through the little caravan window as it began its ascent on the horizon.
For a blessed moment, Gladio forgot about everything that had transpired the day before, and he dozed contentedly on the couch.
It all came back with a start, though, and he bolted upright, his head snapping in the direction of the tiny bedroom.
From his place on the couch, he could see the little bedroom that Prompto had occupied not so long ago.
It was empty.
Frantically, Gladio searched the tiny caravan, and then the entire outpost, but it was no use.
He was gone.
“He’ll come back,” he growled to Ignis, when the other man said they needed to press on.
Gladio knew Ignis was right.
But still…
“He’ll come back.”
He never did.
They waited a week, but finally, they couldn’t afford to put their mission on hold any longer. Gladio left his sledgehammer behind. Instead, he carried Prompto’s crossbow.
Ignis gave him a strained look when he stepped out of the caravan with it slung over his shoulder, but said nothing
The hole in their little party was painfully obvious.
Prompto was always the one who filled these tense silences.
They found him on their second day out.
Sunken cheeks.
Pale skin.
Yellow eyes.
The… thing …that used to be Prompto approached them.
Gladio raised the crossbow.
It stopped.
Gladio froze.
Its hand came up, as if reaching out to them. A hollow, raspy sound escaped its throat.
Gladio’s grip on the bow did not waver. He brought his finger over the trigger.
It lowered its arm.
And then, to everyone’s surprise, it retreated back into the woods.
Gladio didn’t lower the crossbow for several moments.
When he finally did, he found that his cheeks were tear stained.
They saw it again the next day.
It didn’t approach them, this time. Instead, it simply followed them slowly, watching them from a distance.
It was unusual, to say the least.
As far as they had seen, the dead were pretty single-minded. They wanted to feed. They didn’t stalk their prey.
But after the fifth day, when it still made no move to attack them, they began to wonder.
“...Maybe he’s still--” Noct said.
“Don’t,” Gladio growled.
On the eighth day, they encountered more undead. They took out the first two pretty easily, but the third surprised them.
Gladio would have been a goner, if not for the figure that appeared, as if out of nowhere, slamming against the zombie with all its might.
They had never seen the dead fight each other before. Even when feeding, the closest they ever got was a weak shove here and there as they tried to make room.
But the zombie sat atop the other, pinning it down as it lay there, reaching desperately towards the three of them.
The smaller zombie grabbed a large rock.
Raised it up.
And brought it down.
They watched as it climbed unsteadily to its feet.
It turned to them, reaching out to Gladio as it had before.
It’s eyes looked…sad.
“Come on,” Gladio said to the others, turning away. “Let’s go.”
He tried to pretend he didn’t hear the low, keening sound the thing made as they walked away.
He knew Ignis and Noct talked about the thing when he was out of earshot. He knew because they always fell awkwardly silent whenever he approached.
One night, as they camped in an old abandoned shack in the middle of the desert, Noct had apparently had enough.
And that was how they ended up having a zombie over for dinner.
It was almost comical, the way the thing that was not Prompto held its plate crookedly, causing the food to to slide around.
It looked at them with large, almost disappointed eyes as half of its meal spilled to the floor.
It was too much like the looks that Prompto used to make after he had given something his all and still failed.
Gladio stood and stormed out of the shack.
Apparently, after that night, the thing had been given free reign to travel with them, instead of following behind. Whatever arguments Ignis made were quickly rebuked by Noct, who stubbornly pointed out that if it hadn’t attacked them yet, then it wasn’t likely to.
It was strange, how it was so similar to Prompto and yet so different.
It couldn’t speak, so the idle chatter that used to fill the air as they travelled was still missing, but it made sounds that almost sounded like it was trying to communicate.
Noct had taken to talking back to it, even though he couldn’t actually understand what it was trying to say, if it even was trying to say anything.
So, at least they weren’t walking in silence anymore.
But, no.
This wasn’t Prompto.
Prompto was light and warmth and love.
This was just a pale shadow.
Pretending otherwise would only make it hurt worse.
Once, it brushed up against him. It was cold and kind of clammy.
Gladio tried not to think about how warm that same body had once felt in his arms.
They had to leave it behind when they finally boarded the boat for Altissia.
Gladio tried to tell himself that he wasn’t worried.
Prompto was already gone, after all.
Still, the look it gave them as the boat sailed away from the shore remained stuck in his mind for hours after they had grown too distant to see it.
It took several months, but they finally figured out how to make a cure out of Noct’s antibodies. They quickly began manufacturing a vaccine for distribution among the outposts.
“Will it work on those who have already turned?” Noct asked.
For the first time in what seemed like years, Gladio felt hope.
Sania raised her eyebrows.
“Only one way to find out.”
The thing looked terrified as they led it into the lab. Gladio almost thought it was going to bolt.
But it calmed considerably when Noct put one hand on it’s back, leading it towards one of the medical rooms.
All the scientists looked terrified to have a zombie loose in their midst, except for Sania, who looked absolutely delighted.
“Well, aren’t you the interesting specimen!” she said gleefully, leaning in to get a closer look at Prompto. “Would you look at that, he’s not making any move to attack!” She looked at them. “What does he eat?”
“Vegetables,” Noct said smugly.
Ignis put his head in his hands. “For heaven’s sake, Noctis, I knew you weren’t eating all of those by yourself.”
It took several attempts and tweaks to the formula, but finally Sania had a serum she was confident would work.
“Well, it saved the frog, at least,” she explained.
On the first day, there was no change.
Nothing on the second day, either.
But on the third day, Noctis came rushing into Gladio’s room, a huge grin on his face.
Gladio didn’t even ask any questions as he stumbled to his feet and rushed to the room where they were keeping Prompto.
When he got there, he threw open the door.
Cheeks that were a little less sunken.
Pale skin, that had just a tint of pink to it.
Yellow eyes.
And a smile.
“Hey, Gladio.”
Eventually, Prompto’s cheeks regained their fullness, and his skin returned to its usual shade.
His eyes stayed yellow, though.
But Gladio didn’t care.
He carded his fingers through blond hair, rested his forehead against Prompto’s, and stared deeply into those eyes.
“I...missed you.”
Prompto grinned. “That’s all you have to say?”
Gladio smiled back. “I love you.”
“Sap.”
His lips were warm.
So.
Wonderfully.
Warm.
“Hey, Gladio?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you, too.”
“Tch. Sap.”