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Prompto rolled out of his sleeping bag, sat up, and hissed sharply. His back and shoulders flared with pain before subsiding, again. Sleeping rough must have been taking a toll, but with the world going to hell like it was he couldn't be surprised. In the aftermath of the attack on the peace talks Prompto had been struggling to feel connected to his body. Actually, that was a lie. He'd been relieved to find himself numb. He still trained when the other guys trained, ate when they ate, and fought when they fought; but the bulk of his energy was where it belonged, trying to comfort and distract his bros.
"Prompto, you alright?" Gladio leaned into the tent, his dappled brown wings half-blocked the entrance.
"Shh! Noct's still sleeping, big guy!"
"Ughnnnn, no, I'm up." Noctis pulled his bedding tighter to his face with his arms, but gently swatted in Prompto's direction with black wings.
"Sorry Noct, can't hear you through the pillow." Prompto endured the soft blow and pushed back playfully.
"Come on you three. Mustn't let a lie in make a liar of his highness." Ignis’ grey and white wings were tucked against his back to keep them clear of the food preparation area. In the relaxed atmosphere of the haven and in the wild the two senior Crownsguards and the prince left their wings unbound and uncovered. At outposts the wings would mark them as either glaives or guards and draw dangerous attention in Niflheim controlled territory. They still wore the royal black and were willing to fight, but so did some of the hunters so it wasn’t too risky.
Prompts stepped out and ducked around the side of the tent to change into his uniform in relative privacy. He hadn’t been in service long enough for the royal magic to cause him to grow wings, and with the loss of the king and capital they had other concerns. He worried occasionally that having a grounded fighter slowed down the other three, but wasn’t going to bring it up in case it hadn’t occurred to them.
“So, what are we up to?” Prompto came back around to the fire and accepted his breakfast with thanks.
“There’s a bounty to cull some sick garula’s from the herd near here. We’ll go take care of them, do some foraging, and maybe head down into the slough to fish for supper before coming back here. Any thoughts?” Noctis directed his question with a nod toward Ignis.
“It’s a sound plan, we need the funds for curatives before we search for the next royal arm. We can stock up and perhaps investigate the caves east of here after we turn in the bounty tomorrow.”
Unfortunately, the world did not seem to agree with the simplicity of the plan. Whatever ailment that was causing the garula’s discoloration did not slow them enough to make clean kills easy. Gladio and Noctis swooped back and forth trying to knock the garulas down while Ignis stayed low looking for opportunities for precise blows. Prompto hung back against the nearby rocks and aimed for throats and spines as the shots became available. The fight drew out, which attracted the attention of the voretooths. Looking for their own easy kill, the carnivores fell upon the four men, forcing them to pull together for defense. And that was when the first MT dropship arrived.
The Axemen swarmed the battlefield. Thankfully a few of the surviving beasts turned to attack the MTs. In the chaos of the four-way scrabble the young men started turning the tide toward victory. Still watching out for each other they drifted apart, working together to end their opponents. The last voretooth fell under Ignis’ spear as Noctis and Gladio flanked an MT to bring it down together. Moving on to another target, an unlucky warp brought Noctis too low. His wing struck the ground on a downstroke and he tumbled forward with his own momentum.
“NOCT!” Prompto shouted, seeing his friend on the ground within reach of several MTs. He rushed forward letting his pistol return to the aether and calling forth the circular saw. He swung wildly at the MTs, forcing them back to make room to get Noctis back on his feet. As Ignis and Gladio swooped in to support the two Prompto focused on the MT slowest to get out of his range and struck again. That was when he felt the worst pain of his life as something in his back tore lose and moved under his skin.
Ignis was pulling a potion out for Noctis when he heard Prompto scream. Breaking the potion over his prince for the injured wing, he turned as Prompto collapsed to the ground at the feet of an MT while Gladio struck it with an overhand blow. It’s armor crumpled under his greatsword and black miasma leaked from the cracks and joints before dissipating. The MT twitched before falling still. Noctis was back on his feet and moving.
“Specs, help Prompto, Gladio hold them back with me.” Ignis was already moving to deal with the younger man’s injuries, whatever they may be. With the available magic it made sense to treat first and diagnose later. He immediately broke open another potion over Prompto as he crouched down to examine him.
“Where did it strike you?” Ignis shouted to be heard over the crash of metal and the inhuman shrieks of the MTs but Prompto’s babbled response was unintelligible. There was no blood on Prompto’s back so Ignis reached to roll him over to inspect his front for injuries. As he touched Prompto’s shoulder the prone man thrashed and screamed again. Ignis recoiled to avoid injuring him further. He quickly administered an elixir to try to bring Prompto’s pain under control, relying on the greater healing and restorative powers of the curative. Prompto fell limp, panting and Ignis quickly lifted his side to inspect his front and the ground beneath him for blood.
“What’s wrong with Prompto?” Gladio bellowed over the sounds of combat.
“I can’t tell!” Ignis laid a hand on the back of Prompto’s neck, his eyes widened in alarm. “There’s no visible injury but he’s dangerously feverous!”
“We’ve got incoming!” Gladio pointed to a second dropship coming at them over the treetops before using his shield to block an MT attacking Noct’s back.
“We can’t stay here.” Noctis twisted and struck from behind Gladio’s shield, felling the MT. “Use a remedy on Prompto. Gladio, if that doesn’t get him back on his feet I need you to carry him. We can lose them in the trees and make our way back to the haven.”
Gladio knelt by Ignis, who shook his head, the remedy had no effect. "Be careful of his back and shoulders." "Right, Prompto can you sit up for us? I'll need you to hold onto me, alright?" Together they lifted Prompto into a kneeling position. Ignis looped Prompto's arms around Gladio's neck while Gladio gripped Prompto's thighs and rose to stand. Prompto cried out at the movement, but thankfully clamped his grip onto Gladio. It was awkward. It would have to work.
*******
Prompto clung to Gladio for support, comfort, and warmth. Every step jostled him; he shook with pain and shivered with fever. He was so lost in agony he couldn’t tell up from down. He nestled his face into Gladio’s neck, unaware of the tears soaking into the other man’s tank top. Some part of his mind was trying desperately to invoke distance, to understand what was happening, but it couldn’t gain traction in the maelstrom of his suffering.
“Hold on, just a little further.” Gladio murmured. Prompto only whimpered in response. Gladio didn’t increase his pace, he was already running as fast as he could while keeping his friend safe. He wished he could fly while carrying Prompto but that might lead the MT ship to the haven instead of having it unload it’s cargo in the field. Not to mention how awkward his grip would be for flight. He heard the sound of armor landing and magitek troops activating behind him. Noctis and Ignis should be following him shortly. Gladio clenched his teeth and ran.
Noctis watched the new wave of MTs assemble with one eye as he struck at the survivors of the first batch with his lance. “Ignis! Pull back!” Noctis threw a thunder spell into the midst of the newcomers, trying to catch as many as he could. “Try to herd them together. We’ll hit them with more thunder and then retreat!” Noct warped from MT to MT, striking then moving to the next target to pull them into a clump while Ignis swooped from target to target.
“NOW!” Ignis cried, taking to the air straight out of the MTs reach. Noctis held a moment before dropping a thunder spell and warping to a rock out of reach of the magic. Together they flew away from the struggling MTs, first heading away from the haven, then circling around when they lost sight of the enemy over the trees.
Gladio was almost to the haven with Prompto when he saw the others fly past. Noct landed on the stone platform and rushed into the tent while Ignis kept flying toward the road. Gladio slowed his pace as he came around the base of the haven to climb the ramp with Prompto. By the time he reached the top Noct had one of the sleeping bags laid on the ground near the firepit with the chairs shoved aside and was pulling what seemed like all their curatives out of the armiger.
“Let’s get him down on the bag, gently. Iggy went to get the big first aid kit from the regalia.” Noctis came over to help Gladio. “Prom, you need to let go of him. We’ve got you.” Prompto relaxed his grip on Gladio’s neck to let his friends guide him down. Gladio shifted his grip to try setting the blond man on his feet, the careful movements sending jolts of agony through Prompto. His knees buckled and he pitched backward into Noct’s arms. His friend grabbed him under his arms to keep him from falling and Prompto found himself without even breath to scream. He gasped in agony while Noctis cursed and laid him down on the makeshift bed.
Gladio sat down hard on the stone beside Prompto. He hated this, this helpless feeling, this ignorance. Prompto shuddered next to him and whispered, “This sucks.” That comment startled a chuckle out of Gladio. He reached over and ran his hand gently through Prompto’s sweaty hair; like he would for Iris when she was sick, back when he was a kid too and the world made sense.
“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Gladio asked as he reached for Prompto’s hand. He hoped the touch was grounding for the prone man as well. Prompto gripped him back with surprising strength.
“Something happened to my back. It feels like my muscles tore themselves apart. It hurts.”
“We’re going to have to get your shirt and jacket off to take a look.” Gladio looked over to Noct.
“Prom, I don’t want to try moving you to get your clothes off, so we’re going to cut them off when Specs gets back. There should be scissors for it in the kit, otherwise we’ll use the pair from the sewing stuff.”
“Okay.” Prompto said weakly. Gladio and Noctis shared a look; they’d expected him to object to the destruction of clothing.
The beating of wings and the thump of a rushed landing heralded Ignis’s arrival. “Any changes?” He asked, setting the first aid kit on one of the chairs and unzipping it.
“He’s alert and responding to questions. Prom, can you tell Iggy what you told us?” Noctis bumped his shoulder into Ignis trying to reach the kit. Ignis started to mantle his wings defensively before asserting self-control. They were all distressed, but he would not allow himself to escalate. He turned to the side as Noctis flipped through the pouches in the larger bag, clearly looking for something specific.
“I said, ‘This sucks’.” Prompto was still prone on the makeshift bed, but had turned his head toward Ignis and Noct. He weakly smiled as the Ignis rolled his eyes and came to kneel opposite Gladio.
“I’m afraid I’ll need you to be a bit more specific than that.” Ignis reached down to prod Prompto’s abdomen. “Does it hurt when I do this?”
“The pain’s in my upper back and it hurts extra when I move my shoulders. Why do you keep poking my gut?”
“You’re running a fever, and with the acute pain there are several very serious possibilities. It’s probably not your appendix, but if it were we should be driving to the hospital in Lestallum with all haste instead of dallying here.”
“Wait, are you saying I could die!” Prompto squawked in alarm, tensing up. Pain ricocheted through his body and he felt himself slipping into the well of agony that had been threatening to consume rational thought. Gladio squeezed his hand, helping bring him back from the edge.
“You are not allowed to die.” Noctis threw himself to the ground by Prompto’s head and thrust the bandage scissors into Ignis’s care. Ignis looked at the scissors, hesitated a moment, and then leaned over to cut through the shoulder seams of Prompto’s jacket. He wanted to spend the least time jostling the poor boy and quickly freed him from the sleeveless garment. He handed it off to Noctis to get it out of the way and froze. There were two strange lumps under Prompto’s shirt, about the size of a cupped hand laid on a flat surface, moving as he breathed. It looked like something he should recognize…oh. Gladio gasped in recognition as a sick mix of relief and shame flooded Ignis.
“You’re doing well, Prompto, we just need to get your shirt next. Tell me, how long has it been since you were sworn into the Kingsguard?” Ignis put the scissors to the underarm seam of the shirt and cut along it. Gladio winced and pet Prompto’s hair. Noctis looked from his advisor to his shield and back. Confusion and agitation chased each other over his features.
“I…I dunno. Couple weeks? Like, it was just a bit before we left so I’d have time to practice summoning my weapons and team-stuff and since…everything’s kinda been different, but samey, ya know?” Prompto turned his head down into the bedding and squeezed his eyes shut, leaking tears. He didn’t want to look at his friends, not when he couldn’t answer a stupid question, not when he was already feeling vulnerable and about to lose his shirt.
“It’s been about 6 weeks,” snapped Noctis, “what does it have to do with what’s wrong with Prom!” Ignis kept his hands steady with the scissors to finish the shoulders of the shirt, reminding himself that his prince’s worries often come out as frustration. He carefully lifted the back of the shirt away and left the excess material between Prompto’s side and Gladio’s knees.
Prompto’s back told a tale of suffering. His normally pale skin was red and inflamed, except for the two bumps. The skin was bruised, a painful dark mottling where the skin was being pushed and stretched from below. Understanding dawned on Noctis as the three young men watched their friend’s back twitch. The bumps pressed higher, distinct points forming above the centers. Prompto cried out, a strangled gasping noise. “Guys?” he asked, panting.
“It’s, shit Prom, it’s your wings.” Gladio felt Prompto squeeze his hand and realized his grip had gone slack.
“… but I don’t have wings.”
“You’re gonna.”
“Damnit! Specs, what are we doing out here! Prompto needs a hospital, right? That’s what we did.”
“Calm down, highness.” Ignis rose to go to the first aid kit. “It’s too late to move him at this stage, not to mention the hospital in Lestallum won’t know what to do. We’ll have to suffice.”
“You sure? I remember spending a good chunk of a week in the citadel medical office stoned off my ass, we probably have time to get him back to town.”
“Wh-what are you guys talking about? Am I dying or what?”
“You’re not dying, I already told you!” Noct seized his friends hand. “Your wings are coming in, that’s all. You’re going to be fine. We just need to get you back to town.”
“Noct! There is no time, his wings are coming now.” Ignis returned with a water bottle and some pills. “Prompto, these will help with the fever and take the edge off. Afterward a potion should be able to help you recover, but right now this is something your body needs to do. Noctis, Gladio, I need you to lift him up a bit.”
Noctis looked wide eyed at Gladio for confirmation, who released his grip on Prompto’s hand and leaned down to slide both hands under his chest. “Ok princess, we’ll go on three. Prom, will you be able to sit all the way up for a minute or do you want us to hold you a little ways up to take the meds?”
Prompto experimentally moved his arm to try to lever himself up before Noctis got in position. It was a poor choice. “Ah, shit! I didn’t mean without help.” Gladio stared down helplessly as Prompto gasped and writhed in pain. “Noct! Get in here, the sooner we get this over, the better.”
Noctis threw himself to his knees next to Prompto. He bent low and shoved his hand under his friend, feeling the unnatural heat of the fever. “Ok, this is gonna suck. Prom, we’re gonna hold you up, Iggy will give you the pills as soon as you’re ready. Just stay calm. One... two… three!” Gladio and Noctis lifted Prompto between them as he cried out from this new torment. He hung between them, panting, before he lifted his head to make eye contact with Ignis. Noctis just wanted this over with, he hated feeling his friend tremble against him. He wanted to hold him close, wanted to run away, wanted this torture to be some daemon so he could fight. Ignis popped the pills into Prompto's mouth and held the water for him to drink.
*******
Prompto’s mind was reeling as he accepted the medicine. He couldn’t believe he was actually growing wings. Sure, they’d told him when he was accepted into the crownsguard that it was a part of the magic, but they also said he wouldn’t get them until the four came back from Altissia with Lunafreya after the wedding. That hadn’t happened yet! He’d assumed the magic was triggered by proximity, not that it was ticking down on some clock he couldn’t see. Everyone else seemed to have such a firm understanding of all this he’d been embarrassed to ask. His friends lowered him back to the sleeping bag after Iggy pulled the ruins of his shirt out of the way. He had spare uniforms and plain cloths, but not enough to waste them. He kicked himself for being too weak to take of his own top. Of all the stupid, useless…
“You’re doing great Prom.” Gladio rumbled, settling back down and taking his hand back. “You’re really close too, this will be done before you know it. You just need to push your wings out, then we’ll get you cleaned up and have some food, alright?” Ignis walked over to his camp stove to start heating a kettle of water. He pulled out a few clean towels and stacked them next to a few empty mixing bowls. Then he went to the tent to grab a few things from his toiletries.
“C-can you guys t…AAH!” His back spasmed again, cutting him off. It felt like there was a hook dragging on his back, tearing something out of him. At the same time it felt like he was trapped, held down and cramped from being unable to move. Prompto clenched his eyes shut, squeezed Gladio’s hand, and focused on the second feeling. These were going to be his wings, right? He just needed to get through this. Muscle and bone that must have been growing under his skin, it was as much a part of him as his hands or eyes. He just needed to… “Aah, huh, talk to me about yours?” He panted, struggling for breath.
“Sure, what did you wanna know?”
“Dunno, tell me something good.”
“Right. So, the best thing about wings is obviously flying. Obviously, but they also are good in a fight even if you can’t take off. They’re magical in nature so they respond more to curatives when injured so you can use them to basically take blows that otherwise would be more difficult to treat. Comes in handy.”
Ignis returned with his sewing kit and Prompto’s shirt. He quirked an eyebrow at the shield’s idea of distraction as he sat down and took out a needle and thread. “That’s something of an oversimplification,” He said, tentatively “Prompto, did anyone take the time to discuss all this with you during your training? If I recall correctly during a normal training timeline the physician explains it during the 3rd week, and with your accelerated schedule I believe we neglected this matter.” Ignis carefully started working on piecing the shirt’s seams back together. It wouldn’t fit as well as it had before, but the alterations to accommodate wings would give him a little leeway. He’d do proper work on the jacket and Prompto’s other shirts, but he knew his friend would want to wear his own clothes, rather than borrowing Noctis’s spares.
“Yeah, no, no one gave me the ‘wing-talk’ befo..ngh! Before we left. Agh, fuck.” Prompto was glad he was already lying down, he was getting exhausted from hurting. His head felt a little clearer and he was relieved to know what was going on, but man did this suck. Noct leaned over Prompto’s back to look closely at the bumps. They seemed close, he could almost make out the shape of the winglets pressing against the skin.
Prompto suddenly cried out with renewed vigour as the pain in his back changed from dull to sharp, focusing down into two points. He started to flail, almost pulling his hand away from Gladio. Ignis dropped his sewing and pushed aside Noctis to grab Prompto’s other arm. “Calm down, you’re almost done, you just need to hang on a little longer and push.” Prompto screamed, but cut himself off with an audible clack of teeth as he clenched his hands and tried.
Noct lunged from where he sat to grab the first aid kit, “Is there anything in here he can bite down on?”
“No, that’s not-” Prompto screamed again and writhed on the ground, blood trickled down his side as the wrist joint of one of his wings started to break the skin.
“He’s gonna hurt himself!” Noctis grabbed a roll of gauze and threw himself back down by his friend’s head.
“He’ll choke on that!” Ignis shouted, tightening his grip on Prompto’s hand and arm. Noctis only acknowledged that fear by hastily unspooling the cloth to wrap around his own thumb to secure it. He pushed his hand against Prompto’s mouth and ordered, “Bite down on this and push! You’re almost there.” He felt the muscles in his arm tense and fall limp as Prompto complied. Noct’s eyes watered as he suppressed a pained cry of his own and he curled over practically around Prom’s head. “Good job,” he gritted his teeth, “Keep going, you’re doing great.” Ignis and Gladio’s eyes met. Gladio gave a half-shrug and focused back on Prompto. His other wing was starting to erupt and his next cry was muffled by Noct’s hand.
Slowly the blood soaked wings forced their way through the tears in his skin, see-sawing a little as his focus wavered between them. He shouted, half pain half triumph, as the tips of the wings slipped free. He flapped them once, splattering blood as the abused skin slipped down the narrower arms to rest where it belonged against the muscles of his back. Prompto sobbed in relief and went limp, letting Noct pull his abused thumb back to unwrap it and covertly check for damage. It was starting to bruise, but no major damage.
“Well done.” Ignis patted Prompto’s arm before detangling their hands to rise to his feet. He took a moment to be grateful that Crownsguard uniforms were made to be stain resistant as he noticed his friend’s blood on his shirt. He stepped away to grab the supplies he’d prepared earlier and a potion. Gladio still hadn’t released Prompto’s other hand and was murmuring something to him. Prompto started to push himself up, but his arm trembled and Noctis caught his shoulders. Noct scooted closer and lowered Prompto back down so the exhausted man was draped across his lap. “Just stay put to catch your breath, we’ll get you cleaned up.” Ignis set two bowls of warm water and the towels down next to Prompto before breaking the potion over his back.
Gladio grunted in approval as the bruising and swelling finally subsided and the ragged skin around the new joints merged into a seamless whole. Prompto seemed to melt as the endorphins in his system found themselves unopposed by pain. Gladio gave Prompto’s hand one last squeeze before letting go to accept some supplies from Ignis.
“Alright, Iggy and I are gonna get you cleaned up, it’ll feel weird at first but let us know if it actually hurts.” Prompto nodded and pulled his arms up to rest by his head in Noct’s lap. The prince threaded his fingers through Prompto’s hair. It felt nice. Prompto wasn’t sure if he could take anymore pain or if he’d even recognize it after the ordeal he’d just been through, but he trusted his friends. He started slightly when he felt huge hands on his wings, but they were gently pulled open and didn't hurt.
Ignis took off his gloves and spread one of the towels over his knee before gently manipulating the wing closest to him as Gladio did the same. He dampened a square of terry cloth with one hand and squeezed out the excess water while holding the new wing with the other. As he cleaned blood from the feathers with soft strokes he remembered when his own had come in. The nurses who cleaned him up had made much about how brave he'd been and how handsome the new feathers were. He'd felt confused and proud through the cocktail of painkillers. Prompto’s wings were narrow, and the wing joint seemed different than others he’d seen before. The blood slowly came away under his ministrations.
“You have lovely wings,” Ignis murmured. “I’ll have to fetch the mirror for you when you’re cleaned up.”
Prompto had been on the verge of falling asleep between Noct playing with his hair and the gentle warmth of Gladio and Ignis tending his wings. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so exhausted. He felt good; like he’d gone for a long, peaceful run. He rousted slightly at Iggy’s comment, but settled back when Noctis laid one hand flat on the side of his head. “Dude, let him sleep,” Noctis gently scolded.
“I’m awake,” Prompto protested, “I’m up.” That might not have been true for much longer though. “Can you guys keep talking to me?”
“You sure you don’t want to nap? You really deserve one.”
Gladio shifted his free hand to support the wrist of the wing with his fingertips and the primary feathers with his forearm. Prompto let out a soft moan as the warm cloth was brushed over his wing again. His eyes fluttered shut. “You...you got a point there. Just, don’ lemme sleep through dinner, ‘k? Is...my tur…”
“Someone else can clean up tonight. You just rest.” Someone said from far away. There would be new challenges and dangers tomorrow, but for now, safe with his friends, Prompto slept and dreamed of flight.
Fin