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Gladio
Ignis woke to a headache and chills. He blamed himself for not drying his hair properly after bathing the night before, and crawled out of the tent in a worse mood than usual. Gladio had the fire going and rumbled a cheerful Good morning.
Ignis nodded and attempted to return the greeting, only to grab his throat at the sharp and unexpected pain. He couldn't hold back a cough, which felt like he'd swallowed a cheese grater and brought tears to his eyes.
"Iggy?" Gladio was on his feet instantly, and before Ignis could shove him away he had his hand on Ignis' forehead. "Right. Back to bed with you."
Ignis gestured toward the cook-station, and attempted to convey that he'd cheerfully commit murder for coffee right now.
"That goes without saying." Gladio gave him a nudge. "I'll bring you a cup of coffee for your cough. Coughy? Damn." He grinned. "This is gonna be fun."
Noct
Ignis was sound asleep with a blanket pulled up to his nose when Noct woke up, and he scrambled outside to make sure the world hadn't ended or something.
"What the hell?" he hissed at Gladio – who was making toasted egg sandwiches – and Prompto, doing enthusiastic lunges.
"Shh," Prompto said, finger over his lips and eyebrows raised. "Ignis is sick."
"Lost his voice," Gladio agreed. "Hey – what's faster, hot or cold?"
Noct aimed his most serious kingly glare at his Shield.
Gladio didn't even notice. "Hot, cause you can catch a cold. Iris told me that one. You know if we've got any honey?"
"That another joke?" Noct crossed his arms.
"Nah, there's a drink Prompto's mom used to make, supposed to be good for sore throats."
Noct sighed. "Let me hive breakfast and then I'll head out to the store."
Prompto
"So," Prompto said, brightly, trying to ignore Ignis' baleful glare. He'd refused to stay in the tent, so he'd wobbled out to sit by the fire in a sulk, wrapped in a blanket with his hands around a mug of tea laced with honey and lemon. "Let me know if there's anything I can do for you."
Ignis shook his head and took a long sip of his tea.
"I can do stupid jokes to cheer you up," Prompto offered. Ignis narrowed his eyes through his disheveled bangs. "Like how about – now you've got two royal pains in the neck."
Ignis mimed flipping and tossing a dagger so well that Prompto felt the phantom sting of it sinking home somewhere around his sternum.
"That wasn't knife of you," he said, indignant. A second imaginary dagger joined the first, and he held up his hands in surrender. Which reminded him – "Oh hey. I do great neck rubs, just say the word."
Ignis raised and lowered one shoulder; not really a vote of confidence, but not a no. For Ignis, practically a cry for help.
"Just let me know if I rub you the wrong way," Prompto said, getting up and getting started.
Ignis reached under the blanket and came out with his notebook and pen. I trust I'm in good hands, he wrote neatly across a clean page, and then closed his eyes.
Not even ten minutes later, he was sound asleep, and Prompto had to call Gladio to come and carry Ignis back to bed.
Ignis
Ignis woke feeling weak and hungry, but he could swallow without wanting to cry, which he counted as a win. He checked his phone for the time – half past five in the morning – and felt oddly displaced. He'd slept nearly fifteen hours? Why hadn't anyone woken him?
But he needed to get up now – his bladder insisted – so he crawled out and made his way over to the relative privacy of a stand of rocks. When he returned, Gladio was up, scrubbing sleep out of his eyes and starting the morning's coffee.
"Feeling better?" Gladio asked, eyeing Ignis so critically that he wished he'd thought to change his clothes before getting up.
"Yes." Well, that was a relief. He doubted he could raise his voice above a whisper, but talking didn't hurt. "My apologies for worrying you."
Gladio snorted, and set the coffee pot on the stove. "We're taking a day or two off until you're better. No arguments," he added. Ignis shut his mouth. "Let the kids wait on you hand and foot for a change. Do them good."
Ignis crossed his arms, half-wishing he had something to lean against. Standing up was tiring. Still, he had to protest. "And yet, you're the one making breakfast."
"Do me good, too," Gladio agreed without missing a beat. "Go and sit. Anyone every tell you you're grumpy when you get up?"
"Most people value their lives," Ignis said, his voice giving out mid-threat as he suppressed a cough. Gladio jabbed a finger at his chair, and he went. Grumpily.
"We tease because we care," Gladio said, catching Ignis' eye and giving a solemn nod.. "If you can't make us dinner, Noct will, and we'll choke it down while praying for your swift recovery. If you can't keep our spirits up with a little humor, we'll do our best to return the favor."
Ignis put the full force of his skepticism into a look at Gladio. "That was your best?"
"We're trying." Gladio grabbed the pot holder and rescued the coffee, pouring it into Ignis' mug with an elaborate flourish.
Ignis sighed. "You certainly are." He held out his hand in expectation, and a moment later was breathing in fragrant steam. "Thank you."
Gladio ruffled his hair fearlessly. "For you, Iggy? Any time."