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If none of the others chew out their tipster if - when - they make it back, Prompto will gladly do it in their place.
It’s an easy job, he’d said. Prompto wants to laugh, because easy is the last word he’d pick to describe their current situation. The tipster had told them the bounty was on a few killer bees - not killer wasps, and certainly not enough to be pushing twenty. It was likely that no one would take the job at face-value, so lying was the only way to get someone to do it. The reward was a little higher, at least.
Prompto shoots another wasp out of the sky, them immediately lines up the next one. The guys are counting on him - they can't really reach unless the wasps come down to them, or Prompto shoots them down. Noct’s been warping up to try and land a few hits, but there's only so much he can do without hitting stasis.
He glances down to do a quick check on everyone just in time to see Gladio stumble a little and start swinging his sword at the empty air around him. “Guys,” he calls quickly, swiveling to look for Noct and Ignis, “Gladio’s confused, I think.” When he finally spots the other two, he’s dismayed to see them in similar states as their resident behemoth.
Prompto reaches into the Armiger for some smelling salts, but comes up empty. “Shit,” he mutters. They hadn't purchased any salts, figuring that they wouldn't need them, thanks to the damn tipster. Okay, all he has to do is keep the wasps distracted and away from his vulnerable friends until the confusion wears off. He can do that.
Prompto’s lining up another shot when he hears the distinct sound of Noct warping and something barrels into his side. He hits the ground hard and quickly rolls away from Noct, just in time for a sword to stab at the mud where he’d just been.
“Fuck,” Prompto says, scrambling to his feet.
He should’ve seen this coming. Since the wasps are too high for them to reach, they’ve got their sights on what’s right in front of them: Prompto.
Noct takes another swing at him, and Prompto barely manages to dodge. “Noct, c’mon, buddy,” he tries, though he knows it’s useless. He takes a few shots at a wasp coming at them, bringing it down, then dodges Noct again.
He’s so focused on keeping his eye on Noct that he doesn't notice Ignis coming up behind him until it's nearly too late. He avoids the swipe of a very sharp dagger by a hair, and Noct comes in for another strike right after.
After Prompto gets himself out of the way, he immediately looks for Gladio, lest he get caught off guard again. He takes a couple quick steps back, putting some distance between him and them so he can see all three of them at the same time.
The rest of the wasps seem to have disappeared, but now he's got three very deadly, very confused friends coming after him instead. He’s got his gun raised, though he’s not quite sure what that’ll do. He could never bring himself to pull the trigger. He’s sparred against each of them before, though he can't recall ever winning. Hand-to-hand has never been his area of expertise, but Prompto’s fast; he’ll just have to keep moving until they snap out of it or get too tired to keep up. As long as he keeps tabs on all three of them, he should be fine.
He’s a little concerned having Ignis and Noct so close together - what if they gave up on him and starting going after each other? He quickly calls “Hey!” to keep their attention on him, and then starts sprinting away once they start towards him.
Prompto keeps up the same tactic for as long as he can, flitting around the field, staying close enough to hold their attention but far enough to not be in any immediate danger, adjusting his trajectory to keep them all in his line of sight.
Things are going as well as they could be, he thinks, and then the toe of his boot catches on a loose rock. He stumbles heavily but doesn’t go down, but it’s just enough of an opening for someone to get in a slash at his side.
It’s not too deep, but it still hurts like hell, and he pushes whoever it is away (either Noct or Ignis - he doesn’t see - but it can’t be Gladio because both sword and wielder are too small) before they can get any real damage in. He puts a little more distance between them to make up for it, and for the fact that he's starting to get a little winded.
Just when Prompto’s wondering how long he’ll have to keep this up, Noct wanders off to go swing at an invisible foe. In his absence, Ignis makes a lunge for Prompto, forcing him to turn his back to Gladio to deal with him. By some dumb luck he manages to knock Ignis’ dagger down into the dirt, and then dodge the punch Ignis throws in its place. Ignis keeps coming at him, and Prompto somehow dodges and blocks most of the hits, until Ignis lands a powerful one on his jaw. Prompto stumbles back, right into a large hand that clamps down on his shoulder, and he gasps as he’s pulled backwards, away from Ignis. His breath rushes out of him as his back slams into a large rock jutting from the ground, and slides down, more than a little dazed.
And then Gladio’s form is looming over him, greatsword glinting in the sunlight he blocks out as he prepares to heave it down towards Prompto.
“No, stop!” he shouts. He’s going to die. Gladio is going to kill him.
The Astrals must being looking down on him at this particular moment - because they sure as hell haven't been looking down on him any other time - as Gladio suddenly blinks and says, “Prompto?”
“Gladio,” Prompto breathes, practically deflating as he slumps against the rock behind him. His gun shatters into the Armiger. “Thought I was a goner, big guy.”
“Shit,” Gladio says, dispersing his sword and dropping to his knees. He reaches to touch at Prompto’s bloody side, causing him to gasp and jerk away. “Did I do that?”
“No,” Prompto tells him. “I think it was Iggy, I dunno. Maybe Noct.”
At that, Gladio turns to see where the other two are. They’re a little ways away, checking each other over. They notice Gladio kneeling besides Prompto’s slumped form and start jogging over. “We all got hit?” Gladio asks, turning his attention back to Prompto.
Prompto shifts, wincing and grunting, “Yeah.” He lets out a shaky laugh as Ignis and Noct appear over Gladio’s shoulder. “Sure am glad I'm usually on your side. Could I maybe get a potion, please?”
“Yeah, shit, sorry,” Gladio says, pressing a bottle into Prompto’s waiting hand.
Prompto crushes it, lets its magic course through him with a sigh of relief. “Thanks,” he says, glancing down to see the wound fully healed. When he looks back up, all of them are staring at him with guilty expressions. “It’s okay,” he says quickly, before any of them can apologize. “It wasn’t your fault.”
They’re all still frowning at him, even as Noct reaches a hand to pull Prompto to his feet. “You guys aren’t that tough,” Prompto teases, trying to lighten the mood. “I totally had things under control.”
That earns Prompto small, hesitant smiles, though Noct says, “Still, we’re sorry.” Gladio and Ignis nod along.
Prompto waves a hand. “Like I said: not your fault. If anything, it’s that guy’s fault, for not telling what we were getting ourselves into.”
“Well,” Ignis says, giving Prompto’s shoulder a squeeze, “we can have a nice, long chat with him when we get back into town.
Prompto grins up at him. The tipster doesn’t stand a chance.