Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He felt like he was floating again. Good, he thought absently. Maybe he could he could finally float far, far away and this would all be over- the pain would stop and he could get some rest that wasn’t interrupted by another round of whatever his captors felt like torturing him with at the time.

Astral’s, everything hurt and he was positive at least one of his newer wounds was still slowly bleeding. In a funny way, it occurred to him that his school uniform was definitely not going to able to be fixed. It looked as damaged as he felt from his time here.

How long had he been here, anyway? There were no windows, calendars, clocks, anything to give him any clue how much time had passed or what it currently was. He’d been in and out of consciousness and was ready to check out again.

A sharp backhand to his face ended that real fast, knocking his head to the side, forcing a series of pained coughs from him while the taste of blood filled his mouth. He spat it out, not bothering to look at his current tormentor. He didn’t have the energy to raise his head to face her.

They’d been very careful to not use their names and wore masks(it would be a long time before he watched any horror movies now, thank you very much), but if he was given the chance to guess, they were disgruntled ex-crownsguard. Everything about this was too military- he’d sat in on a few of Noctis’s training sessions, seen what they had to go through and some of their combat tactics were the same.

Thinking about Noct and Gladio, his heart crawled into his throat and with a dreaded sense of finality he’d become well acquainted with since he was brought here, the blond was certain he was going to die in this make-shift prison. He may be Noctis’s best friend, but he was a commoner and his life wasn’t worth much(if anything) in the grand scheme of things here. He was replaceable, knew it well. At least if they found his body Noctis and the others would know he hadn’t told them anything. Traded his life to keep his friend safe and really, he wishes that thought wasn’t as comforting as it was.

He didn’t want to die.

The woman grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “I suggest you start listening when I’m talking to you.” Her grip is firm, voice an even mix of annoyed and angry. He’s certain that’s a command, not a suggestion, but doesn’t voice his opinion. It would not end well, Prompto’s sure of it.

“You have the choice to make all of this go away. Why waste your life on someone that isn’t even looking for you?” She lies through her teeth and Prompto isn’t buying it. His silence says as much.

The boy was resilient, she would have to give him that(unexpected as it was), but time was limited for their small operation and they needed what he knew. Even if what it was was on one of the staff; his guard, adviser, drivers, maids, anybody could give them an in.

She saw the ridiculous loyalty inside of his determined, worn down, gaze. Briefly, it reminded her of her younger days when she was full of bright-eyed optimism and thought the kingdom was a fair place for all of its citizens, one worth laying her life down for.

That was a long time ago and this was now, where she needed to focus and think. Things had been going off the rails as soon as they realized he was stronger than they gave him credit for when they were watching him.

The boy couldn’t fight well to literally save his life; he was fast and loud though and that had given them some trouble in the beginning. He hadn’t been the easiest capture. His parents were out of the country and if it weren’t for the prince being his seemingly only friend, he could disappear one way or another and she doubted anyone would have looked for him or cared.

She let go of his face, watched as it drooped down bonelessly. Her brow furrowed in quiet thoughts. Time was something they didn’t have, and if the boy wouldn’t talk then they may as well finish him off then try for one of the staff of the prince’s. Someone low on the tier. For now, maybe they could use the teenager to serve as an example- ensure they would be taken seriously by the royalty they used to serve. If the changes they wanted weren’t met, they would get to the prince or someone else one way or another. Prince Noctis would be the best bargaining chip they could get, however it seemed that wasn’t happening anytime soon as they had planned.

It was enough to make up her mind on the matter at hand.

“Fine. If you won’t talk to me, your corpse will speak to them.” She spoke gravely, leaving the room, not bothering to see his reaction to her words.

The door clicking shut and locking sounded so much louder than it really was. He swore it echoed in the small room.

Prompto sagged in his chains, unable to even sit down, feeling like a common scarecrow in someone’s garden with how he was strung up. How long had it been since they left him like this? He guessed it didn’t matter anymore...

This was it, his mind began racing, when she returned he was going to die and that was that. His death was undoubtedly going to be drawn out because of his refusal to put his best friend in harms way because some goons had issues.

Terror ripped through him violently and stronger than before. He pushed pain aside to try and tug uselessly at his bonds again. No luck still. Everything was crashing down at once- his breathing quickly came and went in shallow breaths, tears began to fall down his face. He had the thoughts this was going to be it, but hearing it for real? It was too much.

‘I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die.’ He bit back a sob.

There was so much he wanted to do. Seeing Noct and the others topped the list, and visiting the dogs in the parks and taking pictures of them again came in a close second. He was just supposed to go to school and take a stupid test he waited until last minute to cram for. One he likely wasn’t going to do amazing on, but it would be done, then he and Noctis were going to hit up the arcade, complain about their teacher grading unfairly and eat unhealthy food before parting ways for the evening.

‘This wasn’t supposed to happen’. Prompto had been told it was a possibility, part of the risk of being Noctis’s friend, but Prompto hadn’t cared. He wouldn’t have traded being Noctis’s friend for anything. It was one of the most important things in his life and Noct one of the most important people to him.

Oh, what if they thought he talked? What if they didn’t let him be friends with Noctis anymore after this if by some miracle he lived?

Prompto felt very sick just then, not noticing right away what was going on outside his little prison, trying to get his own breathing back under control instead.

Meanwhile, on the fourth kick the door swung open, hitting the wall hard enough to leave a mark on the wall. A group of very visibly armed crownsguard soldiers swarmed the room, guns cocked, looking around the place very quickly before deeming it secured.

One of the first ones to enter spotted the teen chained to the wall and grimaced. The kid looked like he’d been through Hell and back, looking at them in that way where he doubted he was actually seeing them and in the middle of a panic attack.

He turned and nodded to his partner, who spoke into his mic that they had him, alive, and ordered a medical team.

From what he could see the restraints weren’t metal and he could cut them off. ‘Now for the hard part,’ he thought and signaled for the team stay back while he approached the kid, hands up. Right now, he had no way of knowing how the teen would act once he got close enough to cut him free. He wondered if they had drugged him at all.

“Alright, kid, I’m going to cut those off and you’re outta here.”

He hadn’t missed the way the teenager tensed on sight and tried to shrink away from him after he brought out the knife.

“Alright, you said he was alive, so what’s taking so damn long?”

The group of them looked to the door where the prince’s shield was pushing his way to the front, looking far from pleased. He’d been allowed on site as a familiar face for Prompto, after finding out about who his captors were. Noctis had fought them so hard on being here, Ignis being the one to remind him that it was still dangerous and whether he cared about that or not, if something happened to him while he was there, then Prompto’s suffering would have been for nothing. Noctis had deflated after that, and Gladio had left with the team right after, promising an update as soon as they had something.

Honestly, Gladio had expected to find a corpse on the scene instead. Gladio knew Prompto was tougher than he looked or let on at times, but civilians weren’t prepared for this kind of thing, and most crownsguard never had to endure it.

Seeing the state he was in, Gladio cursed, this had been straight up torture.

Gladio got closer, grabbing the knife from the crownsguard. From what Gladio had been informed, he wasn’t surprised to see that Prompto was terrified of his rescuers. “Shit, Prom, breathe. In and out, that’s it.”

“Gladio? Is that really you?” Prompto asked after a few long moments after following the instructions, sounding cautiously hopeful and almost disbelieving. Gladio’s heart twisted hearing it. “Yeah.” The shield had anger building he couldn’t take out on who he wanted and didn’t know what to do with right now. Making a new dent in the wall held an appeal. “I’m cutting these off now. ”

Prompto had thought maybe in his panic induced thoughts, he’d been hallucinating the whole thing. In the movies and books, being so close to certain death could do things your brain, make him see what he wanted before it shattered and reality would come crashing in.

After being freed, even if it was a hallucination Gladiolus, Prompto had told him urgently that he hadn’t told his captors anything they wanted.

He was going to have new scars to prove that much.

The rest felt like a blur of people and colors and shapes he couldn’t fully remember if he tried.

Questions had been asked, but he’d been too tired to answer much then trying to walk on his own and not succeeding, he was vaguely aware of someone picking him up then a welcomed nothingness taking over.

xxxxxxxxxx

Extensive and injuries were not words he had ever wanted to hear in the same sentence when talking about his best friend. It wasn’t right, wasn’t fair that Prompto had had to suffer because of him. Guilt and fear had twisted his insides into something ugly, seeing the blonde bandaged in the hospital bed hadn’t done anything to help. He’d only been allowed to see him after he had come out of surgery and hearing he had even needed that had run his blood cold.

It had been two days since Prompto had been found. Two days since Prompto had been here and not woken up. If Noctis couldn’t be here, Gladio or Ignis were. Noctis was at least grateful for that. Prompto wouldn’t wake up to a strange room alone. Noctis wanted to be there when he finally did, wanted to apologize, maybe hear that Prompto didn’t want to be friends anymore and Noctis wouldn’t or couldn’t blame him if he did. A small, ridiculously hopeful part of the prince supplied that it wouldn’t be likely. They had been best friends for years, and while normal friendships didn’t endure this kind of suffering, their friendship was hardly normal.

And, and...

He raked a free hand through his disheveled hair while leaning back in the chair besides Prompto’s bed, his other hand intertwined with Prompto’s free one. He gave it a light squeeze, wanting him to just wake up so he could take him out of here, back to his apartment where Prom could rest while they ate the extra food Iggy had made(Ignis wouldn’t admit it, but Noctis knew he had been stress cooking. He knew his adviser and friend better than that.). Most of the dishes were ones that were Prompto’s favorites. They could play games, he could heal and be somewhere in Noct’s sight, and stay with him until his parents dragged him back to their house.

“You gotta wake up, Prom.”

Anything would be better than the noises from the machines around the bed. A constant visual reminder of something that was his fault.

Without thinking about it, he squeezed his friends hand again, and this time got one in return.

“Noct?”

Chapter Text

A pulsing headache was what greeted him on his slow awakening thanks to the chipper tune blaring from his alarm. Not ready to face the morning light just yet, the young boy groaned and reached over sluggishly to shut off the noise. It was so, so tempting to just try and return to sleep, but knowing why he felt this way forced himself to kick the covers back and begin his morning routine for getting ready for school.

Prompto was disappointed but not surprised to feel as he did on awakening; it was something he considered inevitable, even if he truly hoped differently.

The fall season had been upon them and with it had been the cooler temperatures bringing out the numerous advertisements for hot drinks and seasonal soups for the cafe and fast food places around the area, people donning their scarves, sweaters and knitted hats- even Prompto had one, however, he was anything but fond of it. It made his hair look worse than it already did on the windier days and made his head feel far too sweaty to be comfortable.

This time, it had been a rainy start to the season and having only himself to get back and forth to school meant getting caught in the rain more often than not- his umbrella only providing so much help from the accompanying chilly winds. A few times, when it allowed, he ate his fast food dinner in a secluded booth inside the building to wait for the rain to ease up. Most days there was a break in the weather, others not so much, and on those days he had to make a run for it, ending up in the mud on two occasions. While no one else had been around to witness his clumsiness, it hadn’t stopped his face from burning with embarrassment anyway.

The child knew he was not meant for the whole running thing.

Last night Prompto had been having a difficult time concentrating on his homework, dozing much earlier than he normally did and felt very off. The last time he had recalled feeling like this was a couple of years ago when he had gotten a flu that had been going around at his school, before it had set in and left him bedridden for nearly two weeks.

While brushing his teeth, Prompto tried not to think about how back then he had the comforting touch of his mother’s hand through his hair, his dad’s voice while he read him stories, and the gentle promises he would be alright when he was shivering violently from a fever that was being difficult to break and unable to keep much of anything down.

The child’s heart ached and he decided it was from the sickness beginning to settle in.

Both of his parents were out of the city anyway. They’d talked about how important this business trip was and he wasn’t about to ruin this for them because of some bad luck and bad weather. The disappointment the blond imagined on their faces was more than enough for him to steel his resolve and carry on with the day. All he had to do was get through school today and he had the weekend to sleep it off and get better. He could do this.

Determined, the boy finished his morning routine, bypassing breakfast- the thought of it had his stomach rolling uncomfortably, and with his head hung low, left for school.

The trip over had taken longer than usual, barely making it in to his first class before the bell rang. Very badly, he wanted to quietly sneak out of class and go home, crawl under the covers and stay there until the world stopped spinning and things were quiet enough to make concentrating on his work a bit more bearable. As it was right now, his classmates chatter only made his pulsing headache worse. It was hard to listen his teachers since at more than one point their voices morphed into something unintelligible. He took what notes he could, understanding in a distant, accepting way that he likely wasn’t going to get the greatest score on his tests. His grades were better than average most of the time so he doubted his parents would question anything this time around. They hardly ever did anymore.

Stealing a glance at the clock while the teacher’s back was turned, he noticed with some small cheer that it was almost time to leave for the day. Astrals knew he had entertained the thoughts of sneaking out of his classes to return home, curl up and sleep his ailments off. The thought popped up during each class and was no less tempting each time.

‘Just a little longer,’ he reminded himself while also silently encouraging the clock to move faster with his own impatience.

Those last few minutes felt like they had taken longer than they ought to have, he was sure of it. Gathering his school supplies quickly as he could, he left faster than he usually did. Prompto tended to linger, taking his time packing his things away and sometimes took his time through the local park until the sun began to set for the day and he was forced to the sometimes scary, unwelcoming silence of his empty house.

Making his way into the small store, the small blond looked around the aisles for the soups and crackers.

His own knowledge was limited to his past experience and what was shown on the television shows. He knew you slept a lot, drank water, took medication and ate brothy soups. Purposefully, he chose to ignore the parts where the people on tv had friends or family to look after them.

He was a big kid, he didn’t need his parents over this.

Putting his goods for the weekend on the checkout counter, the older woman smiled cheerily at him and commented that his parents must be very proud to have such a good boy help run errands for them.

Paying for his goods, he stuttered out his agreement with what smile he could force, they exchanged generic farewells that most cashiers gave as he left while she moved on to her next customer.

“I’m home.” He spoke monotonously into the empty house out of habit. There was no answer. Hadn’t been for days and wouldn’t be until the middle of next week.

His bed being so close and him being so tired made getting through his next few chores difficult. Prompto put his supplies away, including his setting his packed lunch back in the fridge since he had been too nauseous to even feel like trying to eat it. He wasn’t fairing much better in that area now.

By the late evening hours, his sickness had other symptoms coming out in force. Prompto was huddled up on the couch, shaking in the throw that normally remained on its back for decoration, sniffling and coughing into his chocobo decorated pajamas sleeve while he passed time by watching whatever was on television until the too sweet bubble-gum tasting liquid medication took effect(there had already been medicine at the house, making that easier. The selection he eyed at the store out of curiosity had been confusing).

Food had been out today, the child had been unable to bring himself to try in fear of losing it almost immediately. A little water forced down had been the best he could do and his stomach wasn’t happy about it, making itself known. Hunger combined with nausea combined with the medicine kicking in had left him feeling strange in a way that was uncomfortable and miserable.

A little while later, Prompto was drowsy, more miserable and positive his fever was higher now than before. Shoving the throw to the other side of the couch, he shut off the television and headed upstairs to get ready for bed.

A few minutes later the young blond snuggled up tightly under the covers, shaking and coughing into part of his blanket. The temptation to text his parents was getting harder and harder to resist, but he would manage. They’d been clear on how important this trip was and Prompto told himself he just wasn’t used to them being gone for long, yet. He even entertained the thought of telling them after he was better and how he managed to take care of himself! Maybe they would be proud of how well he had done?

Sniffling, he told himself it was from his sickness.

Forcing his eyes shut, he huddled further into the blankets. He would get through this.

He was a big boy, after all.

Chapter Text

He didn’t want to be doing this.

The adviser would have much preferred dealing with the energetic blond that morning before having his coffee than tracking down what would assuredly be his corpse, or what remained of it given the daemons late last night.

Ignis found no need for himself to join in on shouting the gunners name as Gladio and Noctis were already doing it nearby. Instead, even knowing the outcome, he decided to try the blond’s phone again, just to be certain, he reasoned.

He pressed the contact number and wasn’t surprised to hear it go straight to voice-mail once more. There was service in the area, so he assumed the gunners phone was de- out of charge and pocketed the device.

It hadn’t been a secret that after they’d returned to the campsite and made certain Noctis would be alright, that he sat around the campfire holding Prompto’s camera in his hands like an old treasure; something delicate that would crack if not handled properly, even if he knew personally how well-made the camera was. He had been around when the blond came over to the apartment, beaming. Almost immediately Prompto began excitedly explaining the details of the camera, insisting the first photo be some ridiculous selfie of himself and Noctis at the time. It had also seen its fair share of battles as well. Ignis was certain if he had turned it on to look through what was taken for the day, he’d find at least two combat selfies. That wasn’t something he exactly approved of(something that he deemed to reckless and dangerous that was going to end badly one of these days), but that topic was a one-way road; no matter how he felt about it, Prompto took his photography seriously and wasn’t about to pass up a chance to get a good or cool shot, as he called them.

“Hey, take care of this for me.”

The scene repeated itself painfully, those being Prompto’s last words to him.

Ignis had sent a dagger into one of the red Bombs near the Iron Giant, dealing enough damage to explode it, causing at least a little damage to the larger daemon, distracting it while Gladio ran and grabbed Noctis, who had been unable to fully dodge an attack from the Giant.

The sound of another small explosion nearby caught his attention and he was able to confirm that Prompto had taken out the other red Bomb, offering what support he could to Gladio.

This wasn’t good. Top priority was getting Noctis out of there, and none of them were in the best condition to keep fighting after the mess of a hunt they finished late not long ago. Curatives were dangerously low and he could spy at least two more red Bombs joining. They needed a distraction to be able to retreat, or at least something good enough for Gladio to Noctis out of the field and to safety.

“Iggy!”

Despite the use of the nickname, when he turned to face the gunner, who had ran over to him, he was bearing one of his rarer dead serious expressions.

“Noct’s okay, just knocked out, but Gladdy could use your help getting him out of here.”

There was something else there in his words and Ignis had a distinct feeling he knew what was coming next, and given their current situation, as bad as he wanted to, he couldn’t argue back there had to be another way. There was no time for planning something else- a similar idea had been dancing on the edge of his thoughts. Ignis had just thought he would have been the one to make the call when the time came.

“I’ll cover you while you join’em.”

“You cannot possibly hope to take them alone.” He put more force on that last word, staring the younger man dead in the eyes, ensuring they were on the same page.

Prompto returned the stern stare with a knowing, determined look of his own. Of course he was also terrified and it likely showed in his eyes and his slight fidgeting with his wristband, but he was the best one to do what had to get done right now. He was half-counting on Ignis to understand that as well.

In only a short moment, Ignis had had one of the longest conversations of his life and neither of them had uttered a word.

Not wasting further time, Prompto pulled something from his pocket, shoving at the adviser, who grasped it with a question on his lips, but Prompto beat him to speaking. “Hey, take care of this for me.” The blond finished, giving the older man the crownsguard salute.

Ignis solemnly returned the gesture. “Prompto-”

He hadn’t waited around to hear whatever Ignis had to say after that. Switching to a faux-cocky grin, he took off, shouting a few insults to the daemons, guns firing away to garner their attention, taking out what he could, buying Ignis time to meet up with Gladio and Noctis.

The adviser had understood very quickly on their regrouping that Gladio and Prompto had had slightly different conversations than he had with the blond. It showed glaringly so when the shield went and over did it on the few smaller daemons left in their path. They’d lost so much, so soon, and now it seemed like there’d be one more on the ever growing list.

On the way back towards the haven, Ignis could recall with painful clarity when he heard the sounds of combat stop and the night return to silence.

The camera resting in his pocket felt like it weighed the world.

==========

“Prom, answer me, dammit!” He heard Noct shout nearby and shook his head. The shield recognized the cocktail of emotion in the younger mans voice and would have been lying to himself if he hadn’t been upset either. Ignis had somberly confirmed what had Prompto had really been planning; the conversation they had without speaking a word, and the final blow when Prompto had given Ignis his camera to look after.

Prompto knew he was going to die.

He had the advantage of being faster than them and a distance fighter on top of that, but it was unspoken knowledge that between the four of them- well, three, since Noct would not agree with this like Prom did, that Ignis and Gladio had more importance to Noctis alive. Even if the little guy was one of them, there was a difference between a best friend being one of your guards and having the shield or advisor around for a king. Professional topped personal and duty had come first. Deep down, however, Gladio knew that Prompto would have done the same thing even if he weren’t crownsguard. He knew his duty but was loyal as a friend long before joining was even a thought.

His gut knotted in thick frustration knowing they couldn’t even kill the daemons that took the gunners life.

Flexing his fingers, the shield’s hands craved for the hilt of his sword, ready to take his current issues out on something, anything, and that was when he spotted it. On the ground nearby was a blood trail, where something had been dragged and he knew what he was going to find when he followed it.

“Shit!” Gladio cursed as soon as his sights landed on the gunners body where it lay under one of the trees, it hadn’t been far from the field they had fought it in last night. The shield ran the rest of the way over, nearly sliding over in the dirt when he quickly knelt beside Prompto’s body.

There were two noticeably sized deep, lengthy gashes alongside his midsection and chest, body mottled with bruises, varying degrees of burns, defensive wounds and eyes half-open, seemingly void of life, staring up at the sky.

While checking for a pulse he knew he wouldn’t find, the implications that Prompto had drug himself under the tree and bled out for an undetermined amount of time didn’t go unnoticed.

Gladio shut Prompto’s eyes.

There had been no mercy of a swift death.

There had been no pulse to find, no heartbeat he could detect.

This time, uncaring of the damage that would be done, he slammed his fist against the tree hard enough to leave visible damage.

==========

A little while later, back at the campsite, Ignis had done what he could for the gunner, bandaging and cleaning the worst of the wounds and the blood and burns. He deserved that much dignity at least. That had been a half hour ago. They’d left Noctis alone with him after that, needing to talk and make plans for after the burial. Where the burial would be was something they would leave for Noctis to choose, but time was of the essence and they needed to leave.

Gladio busied himself packing things away outside of the tent, Ignis went inside to inform Noctis of their needing to move things along, missing Gladio’s pausing at Prompto’s chair momentarily and eyeing it mournfully before carefully packing it away with the others.

As soon as Ignis stepped inside the tent, he caught the sight of his charge sitting on his legs, posture stiff, head hung low, gaze on the gunner, his hands clutching the fabric of his pants hard enough to where the older man could see his knuckles had since turned white.

He made no comment on the tear tracks visible on his face.

“I promised him, Ignis. I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to him and-”

“He knew exactly what it meant,” The advisor interrupted, knowing exactly where this was headed, “before he joined the crownsguard. This was always a possibility. It was never your responsibility to protect him, rather, the other way around.”

Silently understanding the reason why Ignis was really there, Noctis stood to leave, pausing briefly beside his advisor, knowing his counter-points to that would fall on deaf ears. They had had similar when Prompto first started training for the guard. “We’ll bury him near the chocobo ranch. He’d like it there.”

“Of course.”

Noctis left for a few minutes, needing to collect himself and his grief, wondering how many more people important to him were going to be lost before this was all over, trying not to think about the reality of continuing without his best friend. Without his early morning photo sessions, without the late nights of Kings Knight that often ran into the am hours, without the way he just knew Noctis well enough to know when to drag him off somewhere to escape when things became too much or he got lost in thoughts he couldn’t dispel on his own, without everything that made Prompto Prompto and the best friend he could have ever had.

If Gladio said a word to him, it went unheard. Earlier that morning, after the shield had somberly announced he had him, Noct had warped over as fast as he could to only be met with the sight of the blond limp and lifeless in the shield’s arms. Wide-eyed and without thinking he had forced a phoenix down on him, then a potion, ready to try something else, only stopping once Ignis put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stop.

“He’s gone, Noct.” Was the only thing Gladio said.

Noctis had carried him like a responsibility back to the tent, where Ignis made him leave while he worked and let him back in once the bandaging had been done.

He sat in grief while taking in his friend’s injuries, etching what his sacrifice looked like into his mind, painful as it was, he didn’t want to forget. Ever. He owed the blond that much. From the scratches on his face, gashes on his torso, burns, numerous other scrapes and bruises mostly hidden away by Ignis’s handiwork.

“Come on, Prom, you can’t leave us too, not now.” He spoke the words in a near whisper, desperation slowly creeping over. And if Ignis or Gladio didn’t see him force the last phoenix down and next-to-last potion onto the gunner, then they didn’t have to know about it.

Noctis tried everything he could think of in the privacy of the tent, but nothing had changed and he could only sit with his sorrow to keep him company.

==========

A little while later they were on the road, top down, warm winds blowing. Ideally, Noctis would have taken this time to nod off while Prompto snapped photos of the passing scenery before turning around in his seat to playfully pester Gladio(who would have his face hidden away in a book or eyeing the scenery) until the shield made him knock it off. After that he might hum a familiar tune, attempt to bug the advisor, or try to secretly mess with the radio before getting distracted by a game on his phone.

Gladio was in Prompto’s usual spot up-front while Ignis drove. Noctis was in his own spot in the back with the gunner’s head in his lap, idly running his fingers though his hair, ignoring the smokey scent that was stuck to his friend after his fighting too close to the red Bombs. Prompto looked for the all the world like he’d only been knocked out.

The silence that hung over all of them was thick and heavy and no one was in a hurry to try breaking it. Focusing on anything else was too hard, too painful, knowing that Prom wouldn’t be-

A sudden drawn out groan broke his thoughts.

Freezing up, the young royal’s heart leapt to his throat. Finally able to look down, he saw his best friend look like he was trying to wake up. “P-Prom?”

==========

Groaning, the first sensation he was aware of was the warm wind hitting his skin, blowing through his hair; it was nice, enough so to where he was tempted to fight waking up all the way in favor of sleeping a little longer.

A voice kept him from that want. It was familiar and he knew he should be able to place it, but he was still so tired and drifting was so much easier.

It persisted and a distant nagging feeling wouldn’t grant him rest. The voice, words muffled as they were, needed to be answered. There would be no sleep until he did. Once he started struggling to try and move his limbs, the pain became more prominent, his body felt like someone cranked up the gravity, leaving him unable to move easily.

There was something increasingly urgent in that voice, even if he couldn’t understand it. He wanted the urgency to stop; it felt wrong hearing it as it was. Trying to speak, he found his mouth felt like someone had shoved cotton in it and left it there. That was going to take a minute.

Fine. Furrowing his brows, he focused his small energy into opening his eyes, knowing that once he saw a face to go with the voice everything would click and make sense again.

The blond made it half-way, enough to see the sky above him, aware in a way he couldn’t explain that he knew he was moving. “Am I dead?” He questioned, groggily, to no one in mind while attempting to move again, finding a tiny bit more success.

In a heartbeat, the familiar face of a dark haired man filled his vision. “Don’t you dare say that.”

Flinching, the voice was no longer muffled, and was jarringly clear. Blinking a few times, plainly confused still because there was something clearly wrong there, he got a better look at the mans face: there was a visible part of a bruise on part of his head, eyes red and he looked upset and something else that he couldn’t place. Something he felt like he should know...

In a flash, sharp pain surged through his skull, accompanied by flashes of a grim battle at night, the man taking a hit hard enough to be knocked out, two others having their own injuries as well while he faired better.

Nocr, it was- it was Noct.

Noctis had been hurt, Iggy and Gladio had done only so much better. Not everything made full sense yet, but he had enough to send a spike of adrenaline through his system. Ignoring the severity of his pain, the gunner sat up, and looked at Noctis, worried. “Dude, are you alright?” A different expression passed over the royals face, and Prompto looked at Ignis and Gladio in the front, as if he were trying assess them too, needing to know they were okay, before looking back at his friend.

“Are you fucking serious?” He heard Gladio say in a way that he decidedly did not like, but didn’t have an answer for him either.

The blond was certain the hug he was pulled into was the most confusing one of his entire life.
==========

A few minutes later, after Ignis had given Prompto a look over and made him take in some water for the time being, and noticed any questioning wasn’t going to get anywhere right now, he permitted it safe enough for the blond to actually sleep. They could sort things out once he had more of the confusion out of his system.

The two youngest were sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder in the backseat.

Gladio was relieved more than he showed that the gunner was in fact alive, yet his expression was tight lipped and grim. Damned if he didn’t have a one-on-one talk in mind with the little guy later.

Meanwhile, Ignis had shared a similar thought on the matter, but allowed himself more of a smile to show. The weight in his pocket didn’t feel so heavy(one he was gladly ready to part with) and it seemed as though they would be heading to the chocobo ranch for a different reason now.

Chapter Text

Prompto collapsed on the couch with a pained groan, unsuccessfully finding a suitable position to ease the pain from the too long day, giving up after a minute to focus on the plain ceiling instead. This was one of the rare times he was grateful for the silence of the house, allowing him to wallow in his unhappy thoughts without interruption. That morning had been the first day of Crownsguard training and it had been a disaster. The blond knew he was fast, agile, not the weakest -not exactly- but he could not see some hidden talent in himself waiting to awe and surprise anyone there.

He had been knocked down, screwing up the most basic defensive and offensive stances. Prompto wanted to blame it on his nerves- having some distraction making sure his bar code remained hidden, taking a huge enough risk even being there. It had already been painfully obvious he stood out from most of the other trainees with his freckled skin and bright, blond hair. Shutting his eyes for a minute, Prompto recalled Gladio having warned him how intense the training was(for important reasons), with the first day being evaluation. It would be another couple of days of before some were weeded out and the rest continuing onward to further training. The Instructor had mirrored Gladio’s words after training was done, with more than a few of them having fresh bruises and aches to carry home with them, using the ugly marks to decide if they could handle future, more intensive training or drop out early.

While the Instructor had kept the same tone with each of them, it was hard for Prompto to not see the mans eyes, feeling as though he could read the Instructor’s thoughts when he was being addressed; that Prompto was a waste of time, only there because of the prince’s influence, only set to let them down before the next few days were up.

On the thoughts of Noct, there was a half-truth there. Prompto had known about Noctis’ upcoming marriage to Lady Lunafreya, that Noctis would be leaving and it felt like there was a growing weight on the line of their friendship all to close to snapping, ending it if something was not done soon. Neither of them wanted to lose the close bond built over the last years, but Noctis would have to leave soon to travel to his upcoming wedding. Noctis would have retinue consisting of Gladio, Ignis, leaving one spot open. Noctis had been upfront about wanting Prompto to come with him, not seeing how at the time. It was unspoken as to why, but gave the blond an idea.

At first, it did not go over well.

Noctis being worried over Prompto’s safety, while Prompto pushed back he could handle it. He had been running everyday possible for years now, not being a stranger to the dangers of being the prince’s best friend, and wanting to continue being friends. If they were separated now, it was anyones guess when they would see each other again... After some more discussion, Noctis still had his concerns, but believed in Prompto. The blond determined to not let him down. He carried that with him even now, yet still beating himself up internally for what he had no choice but to assume was the start to a failure.

Taking a pause, he moved around a little more on the couch, the movement aggravating the pain further, offering no real relief still, only making a headache come on. Pain killers were upstairs, Prompto knowing he should make his way up there for a shower(which would be far more helpful than continuing his own internal pity party) and prepare for the next morning.

Noctis had faith in him like no one else had before. Not even his parents believed in him like Noctis did, and now of all times their support would have been welcomed. Once again, Prompto was all too aware of the heavy silence the house contained. His parents prioritizing their work over him like always, making it clear they did not support his attempts to join the Crownsguard, stating it was too dangerous and reminding him of his bar code as if he hadn’t thought on it every day of his life, the black ink being a barrier between him and other kids for most of his life until Lady Lunafreya’s letter changed everything for him.

Well, it wasn’t like they supported his friendship with Noctis, telling him it was unsafe, leading them to have one of their biggest arguments back then. Constantly ensuring his ink was hidden away but never knowing or being told the real reasons why. It gave him more than a few nightmares over the years, including the fear of losing the one person that genuinely cared about him if he found out.

Even by now Gladio was someone he could consider a friend, but the shield was definitely nowhere are close to Prompto as Noctis is. Rolling over that, Prompto had realized Gladio hadn’t discouraged him from trying to join, only warning him how the first day would go and making it painfully clear there was nothing easy about what he was trying to get into. Of all of them, Gladio would know the best, being trained since he was a kid for a job Prompto did not envy.

A custom chime from his phone rang out, the ever familiar noise to let him know it was Noctis, the sound both warming his heart and causing some minor dread at the same time. Noctis probably wanting to know how day one went since he was not allowed to be present during their assessment and training sessions for his own safety.

A second tune rang out, and the blond could only guess what Noctis had known by now. Their friendship was no secret, Prompto knowing at least some of the other trainees would assume he would get off easier since he was Noct’s friend. It was not the truth, but Prompto was not an idiot, knowing how it looked on the outside.

Getting closer to six pm, Prompto eased himself up to reach for his phone(sucking a sharp breath on the pain the movements caused, letting it out slowly on sitting up) on the little table in front of the couch, smiling at the messages from Noctis.

Forcing himself to stand and move, he went on to reply to Noctis about the experience, hiding his own worries about the potential failure. Heading upstairs, Prompto knew tomorrow would be weapons testing, not holding his breath, but not left without some hope and fresh determination that maybe doing okay with one of them would make up for the disaster today had been.

Tomorrow was a new day.