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Sometimes, Prompto had bad days. Days where he couldn’t bring his usual cheer and optimism to the group. Days where he would flinch away from his own reflection and the world seemed to be filtered in through a fog – distant and blurry.
But without his peppy personality, what else could he bring to the group? Noctis was the reason they were all there and he was the reason Prompto had the life he did now, instead of being alone and lost. Ignis had everything planned and put together and besides, he was an amazing cook. Gladio could keep everyone safe and he knew how to set up camp. All Prompto had on them was that he could keep his head up when no one else could.
So what happened when he couldn’t even do that?
They could dress him up as much as they wanted, but he was always going to be that lonely, awkward, fat kid whose only friend was his camera. No amount of hard work or crownsguard uniform could ever fix that. Prompto was always going to be who he was – clingy, annoying, always rambling about something no one else cared about.
It was nice enough that Ignis and Gladio tolerated him, even if he suspected it was more for Noctis’ benefit than his own.
Some days, he couldn’t understand what Noctis saw in him. Something must have made Noctis think Prompto was worth his time and effort, but Prompto was never sure what it was. Sure, they liked the same shows and movies and video games. But Noctis liked to sleep in where Prompto couldn’t remember the last time he was still in bed past 10AM. Noctis could maintain a cool and aloof image where Prompto wore his heart on his damn sleeve.
Noctis was important and perfect, and Prompto was just some nobody. Some failed experiment smuggled in to taint everything he touched with who and what he was. The powers that be let him live, but some days that didn’t feel like mercy.
With how easily he fucked everything up, with a secret that could destroy everything he had, it very often felt like a curse.
A part of Prompto always expected it – that one morning he would wake up to everything gone and a note written in neat, cursive handwriting telling him he was just too much of a liability and they had to let him go.
He would be crushed; he would have nothing left to live for.
He wouldn’t blame them for a second.
They had been together for years without him and they would be able to do it again. Just like that, Prompto would be an already fading memory. One they would probably speak about with regret that they let it go on that long.
But now Insomnia has fallen and the pressure is more than any of them have ever needed to cope with, so Prompto can do something. He can smile when no one else will. He can laugh enough for all of them.
No matter how forced it may be, it’s what he has to do. They have bigger issues than his and he learned to deal with his own head a long time ago, when there was no one to support him through the fog.
He was a little out of practice but he could get back into the swing of it. For the sake of the guys who made up his whole world, he could remember to rely on himself again.
***
Prompto kept it up for about a week, maybe. Fighting through bleary eyes when he hadn’t been able to sleep the night before, keeping a smile plastered to his face any time anyone looked at him, responding to anything that sounded like a cue as if on autopilot.
He couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror now. He hated seeing all the reminders of how imperfect he was. He didn’t dare look at the others either, for fear of remembering what he was comparing himself to.
What he had to compare to, if he wanted to be a part of them.
He had tried his best, but the nagging feeling that he was still not doing enough and that any day now they would realise he was just another on their list of burdens wouldn’t leave him be. His brain had latched onto every little mistake he had made that day and screamed it back at him until his thoughts became a laundry list of fuck ups.
You missed that shot.
You lagged behind.
You ran too far ahead, Iggy shouldn’t have to be looking out for you.
Everyone had to stop so you could take pictures. Selfish.
He thought that when Ignis said he wanted to go to the market after they all settled into a hotel for the night that he had his chance. Gladio would go with him because he always liked walking in the evenings and Noctis would take the opportunity for a nap before dinner.
Perfect. Prompto could just say he wanted to clean up, hide in the shower for a little while and pull himself together. No one needed to know.
He didn’t pull himself together.
He barely managed to actually wash himself, but at least then he wouldn’t have to worry about getting everything physically dirty. In the end he had sat under the water for at least ten minutes, trying not to cry in case Noctis heard.
They had bigger problems than this, they really did.
Noctis and Gladio had both lost their fathers. Their home was in ruins. The Empire wanted them dead.
Prompto still couldn’t keep himself together.
He hoped Noctis would be asleep when he eventually got out (don’t steam the room out, it’ll make everyone uncomfortable) but instead he was lying on the bed, wide awake, doing something on his phone.
It took a second for Prompto to remember he needed to smile. It was a second long enough for Noctis to notice something was wrong. He tilted his head slightly and Prompto could see the question forming already.
“You okay, dude?” No, not really. And he definitely wasn’t prepared for anyone to ask if he was – they all had so much to worry about. He didn’t expect anyone to notice the half-seconds and private moments where he let the misery slip out. He had been counting on it, in fact.
Prompto was a royal retainer and a grown ass man, he could look after himself and his stupid head.
So when he replied it came out a little watery, but he still managed a “Yeah, I needed that!”
Noctis didn’t seem convinced.
“What’s up?”
Prompto shook his head. No, he wasn’t doing this. Not to Noctis, who was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Nothing, just beat, dude,” He mimicked Noctis, sitting on the bed and taking his phone out. “Can’t wait for dinner, ‘m starving.”
He was so focused on staring blankly at his screen that he hadn’t noticed Noctis come over until he felt another body against his own. He looked up to find Noctis right against his side, eyes questioning.
“Seriously, you’ve been weird all week. What’s up?” So he had noticed. Prompto had been bottling up his insecurities since he was a kid and he was still no good at it. That sounded about right for him.
He knew if he just told Noctis the questions would stop and the worry would go from his face, but Noctis was caring enough that he would just add Prompto to his list of things to be concerned about. They were supposed to be best friends; Prompto couldn’t do that to him. So he shook his head again.
“Seriously, just been tired. We’ve been doing hunts like, all week, remember?” It was a flimsy excuse – they had actually taken a day off between two hunts earlier in the week. It was also the only excuse Prompto could think of on short notice. He just wanted Noctis to drop it so he could go back to trying harder to seem like his usual self.
What if this was his usual self now? Prompto would lose the only reason they kept him around. They’d drop him in a heartbeat.
He was so busy trying to picture what he would be without the guys that he didn’t notice Noctis calling him until a hand waved in front of his face.
Great, now Noctis looked super worried. That was the exact thing that Prompto had been trying to avoid. Now he had to get him to stop talking about it before Ignis and Gladio got back or they would want answers too. Prompto knew he was living on borrowed time with them, but he didn’t want to drop reasons to let him go right into their laps.
“Prom. Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.”
“No.” He didn’t even realise he’d said it. His brain hadn’t okayed it – his brain wasn’t giving anything the go ahead.
Noctis had never seen him like this before; he couldn’t now. Not now.
“What? Why? What’s happening?” Noctis’ voice was starting to take on a panicked edge and it made Prompto want to throw himself out of the nearest window.
Noctis’ arm was around his shoulders now and no, this isn’t what Prompto wanted. He didn’t want Noctis to be comforting him. He should be comforting Noctis.
He could still do this; he could still get himself under control and convince Noctis this was nothing to worry about. He could do it all before the others got back and no one would know he was falling apart at the seams.
He could definitely do it if he could get himself to stop crying. Because that had happened at some point and now Prompto couldn’t stop it. He didn’t dare look at Noctis now – he didn’t want to see what this was doing to him.
He didn’t really have that option for long before Noctis was hugging him properly, stroking one hand through his hair while the other slowly rubbed his back. He couldn’t entirely make out what Noctis was saying to him in between the little shushing noises but he was sure it was meant to be comforting.
Prompto hated himself for putting Noctis in this position. He hated that Noctis was now definitely concerned. Because Noctis was a kind person and didn’t have the sense to walk away from someone who was clearly a lost cause.
Instead he just sat there with him, stroking his hair and rubbing his back and softly telling him that everything was going to be okay until the tears stopped. Noctis was the best person Prompto had ever met and he didn’t deserve his attention, let alone his friendship. Noctis deserved so much better.
“That’s not true.” Noctis spoke firmly and it took Prompto a moment to realise that he had said that out loud.
He felt Noctis pull back and for another moment Prompto thought this was it – Noctis was finally walking away. He should have known it was coming, but it still hurt.
Noctis shifted his hands to Prompto’s arms and held them there, firm and warm. He looked Prompto in the eye and while there was still concern in his face, there was also a sternness that reminded Prompto of Ignis.
“You’re my best friend, and that’s not gonna change. I don’t want that to change. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met.” Noctis’ face softened slightly and Prompto saw some of the tension disappear. He hadn’t even realised how tense Noctis had been until it was gone. Some friend he was being.
“You can be not okay too, Prom.”
He hadn’t realised that he had been waiting for some kind of permission, but now that it was there Prompto didn’t want it.
“I want to be okay, for you.”
“You’re always trying to be okay with everything. No one expects you to be, it’s not fair on you.”
Of course it was fair – what else did Prompto have? Some awkward jokes and semi-decent aim? That wasn’t enough.
“Prom, look at me.” He hadn’t realised he had looked away from Noctis, but there was something sad in his eyes when Prompto looked back. It made him feel slightly sick.
“You’re doing okay. You’re doing great. Just don’t…don’t be too hard on yourself. You can’t let everyone else have bad days without letting yourself have a few.” The words sounded slightly Ignis-like, and Prompto wondered if he and Noctis had ever had this conversation.
The thought was slightly heart breaking.
Still, he was slightly surprised at how much Noctis had picked up on. Prompto used to joke about how oblivious he could be.
It turned out Noctis noticed a lot, when he cared enough to pay attention.
“Promise me, yeah? That you’ll go easy on yourself?” Noctis playfully ruffled his hair, a gentle smile forming on his lips. “Can’t have anyone talking about my best friend like that, right?”
It brought a small laugh from Prompto. He couldn’t promise Noctis anything – they hadn’t even scratched the surface of what was going on in Prompto’s head and nothing was going to change overnight. Noctis was going to want to keep talking about it, but for now Prompto was grateful that he wasn’t pushing. What they had managed had exhausted him.
He would probably be asleep before Ignis finished dinner.
“I can, uh…I can try? I guess?” He shrugged, but for now Noctis seemed satisfied with his answer and he nodded.
“All I’m asking.”
Prompto still didn’t understand what Noctis saw in him. Why he was prepared to put in the time and effort for someone as dime a dozen as him. He didn’t know why Noctis chose him out of everyone else he had ever met.
But there was something there, and maybe one day Prompto would get it. He could work on it.