Chapter Text
"Sirs. Another picture appeared this morning." An older man with short gray hair, dressed in Kingsglaive Fatigues handed the photo to Gladio who took the picture, shaking his head.
"Thanks, Marvin." Gladio turned to address the smallest of the trio. "Prompto. It's getting old. We all miss Noctis but continuing to put pictures- this picture, it's becoming a sick joke."
"Dudes. You gotta believe me. It wasn't me. I never kept a copy of the photo Noctis took with him. I mean, I wished I had but I didn't. You believe me, right Iggy?" Prompto looked from the photo to the blind advisor, gently resting his hands on his shoulder so he'd know where the sharpshooter was.
"The most logical cause is a prank. But it's not necessarily Prompto."
The first dawn had been difficult. But even Ignis recalled the first time the photo had been found on the throne. He himself had never seen the photograph. His eyes had been long lost by the time Noctis had left them to face Ardyn, but he doubted Prompto and Gladio would have lied to him about the photograph’s contents.
"Remember when you found the photo that first morning, Gladio? When no one else had really stepped foot in the Citadel but us and the Marshal?”
"I'd like to forget that image, Ignis." Gladio turned, remembering how he had to pull the sword from Noctis's chest. How the picture of everyone at Cape Caem sat underneath Noctis’s hand. How that same photo was now grasped in his hand. How this photo continued to show up every couple of nights in the exact same spot the original had been found.
"I don't understand," Gladio huffed, passing the picture to Prompto. Prompto took the picture, frowning at it for a moment before hiding it in an inner pocket of his Kingsglaive jacket.
"I miss Noctis as much as- but who'd do this? I want cameras set up." Gladio had taken a few steps towards the throne, the same throne that had remained empty since the last King sat upon it.
"If you can find some, be my guest." Ignis was the first of the three to turn away. He never felt comfortable in the throne room since the King's passing. "If it will help you sleep at night. You certainly toss enough, but I'll be the first to remind you that such things are not yet in production again. The same goes for photographs."
"Unless you count the Citadel's black room. I got that reasonably working but my Lokton doesn't have negatives to process." Prompto followed Ignis, leaving Gladio as the last to exit the room.
At least they'd finally patched the hole in the ceiling.
At the last moment Gladio paused, a cold breeze passing his person, just strong enough to stand up the hair on his neck and arms. It was strange, but it was unmistakable. Since they had fixed the wall and the ceiling there shouldn’t have been enough airflow to cause a breeze. None of the flags or banners shifted. No sound echoed through the high stone chamber. Not even the candles wavered.
“What the Fuck?” Gladio moved in a circle, eyes scanning the whole room. While it had been cleaned up, the only people who really spent any time in this particular room any more were the janitorial staff. Not a soul was in sight.
Shaking his head, Gladio moved off towards the others, letting the experience fall by the wayside, for now.
“Okay, so like, who in Eos has the ability to mass produce a picture that no one has the original of except me? I mean, it's on the Lokton, but again, no way to print it.” Prompto moved his hand to the camera that was almost always on his person.
“Are you sure it’s being reproduced?” Ignis had waited for Prompto to catch up to him, though the thought had only just occurred to him. “Is it possibly the same photograph? I wouldn’t be the one to look for such a thing, but Prompto, isn’t it true that you’ve kept the pictures when they’re found?”
“I put it back into the same drawer in the bedroom. I guess I haven’t checked to see if it's the same picture or not.” Prompto’s hand moved to the picture which now sat over his heart. Feeling the photograph in its place, his slightly accelerated heartbeat slowed. “But if it is the same picture, that also means someone is getting into our room, and I am soooooo not okay with that.”
“Me either. Hey, how does air circulate through the citadel. Central cooling?” It didn’t take much for the tallest of the trio to catch up to the others, Gladio crossing his arms over his chest as they moved to the elevators. “There’s an odd breeze in that room.”
Ignis shook his head, listening to the metallic ‘ding’ of the elevator’s call button. “I’m not entirely sure. Maybe they missed something when they did the repairs. I do remember high alcove style windows near the ceiling before. It was what caused that brilliant cascade of light, falling in contrasting bars over the garnet red carpets that led to the throne... “ the hint of nostalgia was, of course, tainted bittersweet. Ignis had no idea what color the carpets were, anymore, or what the alterations to the throne room had aesthetically entailed. “The glass must have not yet been replaced.”
“I checked all the repairs myself, and everything was almost exactly a replica as it was before, ya know-” Gladio sighed. “I’ll have a maintenance guy in there to check it out. It's like the place is haunted.”
“Dude, I think you’re crazy. I didn’t feel a breeze. Did you, Iggy?”
“Nothing. I don’t like the feeling in that room, but it hardly entails haunting.” Ignis recounted the ghostlike daemons of hunts in the past. They had looked and acted as ghosts, but were not exactly fitting in the traditional definitions of such. “Besides, there isn’t such a thing as ghosts. Now that the daemons are gone nothing of that sort should exist, anymore.”
"So, you're telling me that you don't believe in ghosts after everything we've been through?" Prompto smirked as they stepped into the elevator. "I think that'd explain everything."
"Prompto, you're still naive, even after fifteen years." Gladio chuckled, placing a hand on the small blond's head and mussed his hair. Which he received a complaint about.
As the elevator hit their floor the three men filed out, greeted by quiet hallways rather than darkened ruins. Ignis lifted a hand, an idea having formed on their short elevator ride. "How about we figure out if it's the same photograph or a copy, and if it's the original you let me hide it."
"Deal. But if it's a ghost. You're dealing with it." Prompto smirked, leading the way to their bedroom.
"Oh really?" Ignis shook his head, removing his visor before they even reached the door. "And how do you propose I deal with a made up entity?"
"I dunno. You're the smart one. I'm just good with guns." Prompto joked, moving over to the dresser where all his pictures were "and photos."
Sitting cross legged, he began sorting through the mess that was his pictures. "This might take a minute."
Nowadays minutes were actually something they could spare, though Ignis used his to put away his visor and remove his boots and coat. Ignis turned his head towards Prompto and the silence. "Did we lose someone?"
"I'm right here."
"I'm right here." Gladio called, emerging from the bathroom where he had stripped down into his pajama pants.
"Dude. That's a wicked echo. How'd you do that?" Prompto looked up from the mess, searching and searching for the picture that was also in his jacket.
"The two of you have obviously had a long day." Ignis finished his own routine of undressing, which was to take it all off, then put it away before heading to bed as he was. His modesty had disappeared shortly after his eyesight, and neither had bothered to return. When he stood his clothes were neatly folded over one arm and his boots in the other as he headed towards the closet at the far end of the room. "Talking about strange echoes and cold spots. Maybe you should both take a shower and relax your nerves."
"How about it Gladdy?" Prompto glanced over his shoulder with a toothy grin.
"Don't call me that." But his response was playful.
"Just let me finish this- Ah!" Prompto was suddenly swept up by Gladio and the larger man was stripping him as they walked.
"Nope. Now or never." Prompto's jacket and pants hit the floor.
"The picture!"
Ignis was quick to scoop up the discarded clothing on his way. "I have it. Don't worry. Try to relax or you might hurt yourself."
"You coming Iggs?" Gladio called over his shoulder, lingering only momentarily on the doorway.
"I have a photograph to hide." Ignis commented before disappearing from view.
….
"Anyone notice that there are cats, like, everywhere in here?" They were sitting in one of the refurbished meeting rooms as Prompto stared at a black cat sleeping in front of him.
All eyes shifted to Prompto, though most shifted away only moments later, finding his comments unimportant to the matters at hand.
"Stray animals do this sort of thing during and after catastrophes." Ignis whispered, continuing to be the voice of reason. "The only reason there are still cats at all is probably because they took refuge here during the Long Night."
"Yeah." Prompto sat up straight and gently patted the cat on the head. "Reminds me of Noct."
But didn't everything in the Citadel? Every day, every step was a constant reminder. The little cat rubbed against Prompto's hand and purred.
"Why aren't you listening, then?"
"Gladio," Prompto shifted, looking at the tall man in question. "You hear that?"
"What're you talking about?"
The man sitting opposite to Gladio immediately shushed them, though at the same moment a cold chill ran down one, and only one, of Gladio's arms. It was like cold fingertips grazing his skin.
"Pay attention to me."
"I am!" Prompto turned around looking frantically for whomever was talking to him only to find Gladio was now standing looking panicked.
"No one else felt that? You've gotta be kidding me." Gladio turned to look at Prompto. "Dude. Somethings wrong."
"We'll figure it out after the council session." Ignis turned to the other two men and put a finger to his lips. "Though for the record I'm starting to think you're both going insane." He grumbled under his breath.
Gladio sat back down, eyeing Prompto as they both stared off at The front of the room. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Gotta be ghosts!"
"SHH!"
....
After the meeting had concluded and the various council members had gone their separate ways, Ignis was on a mission to make a point. While he hadn't wanted to, the mission took him directly to the throne room for the second time in two days. He moved respectfully through the room as though it were a graveyard, making his way from the entry, up the steps and to the seat carved of stone and wood. Even without sight he knew where everything was. He could picture it vividly with his mind's eye… but it always came with something else. A darkness and a deep fear in his gut that told him to stay away.
Shaking the feeling away, he reached down and felt the armrest, only to find the same thick, glossy piece of paper that always sat upon that very spot. Defeated, he let out a sigh and turned to descend the steps once again.
“I never did think that you would come here on your own.” Gladio stood in the center of the room, looking as the light danced from the windows all about the room, all spot lighting the chair that no man would ever sit on again. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
There was a slow to the blind man’s steps, the photograph in hand raised between his index and middle finger. “You’ll have to tell me. What is the subject of the photograph I hold before you? There’s a lot of things I can do, but deciphering flat surfaces is not one of them.”
Gladio moved to the other man, the few paces that remained. With slightly shaky hands, Gladio took the picture, eyeing the same image that had been vexing them for almost a month. “The one and only.” Gladio growled, replacing the picture in Ignis’s fingers.
“Did we ever determine if there were additional copies of this photograph?” Ignis tucked the photo into his chest pocket to keep it safe. He had not yet checked back where he had hidden the image, but the ceiling air vent in the closet was not exactly the sort of place just anyone would stick their arms.
“Prompto says he can’t find any other copies. He actually went back up to that project. I kinda, you know, sidelined him last night.” Gladio let out a sharp laugh. “Come on. Let’s go check on the kid. He is hearing voices, ya know.”
"We will get to the bottom of this, logically." Ignis followed Gladio for a moment before picking up the pace enough to walk at his side. "I don't think you're both going insane, not really. I just worry that… with…" a sigh and a pause, but Ignis forced himself to push forward. "With Noct's birthday only a few weeks away, it's less disturbing for the both of you to be feeling out of sorts. We all cared about him very much. I don't want to be hard on either of you… the photograph quandary even has me a bit off kilter. "
"Maybe you're right." Gladio conceded. The past ten birthdays had been hard, but knowing now that Noctis really was gone for good? It made it harder.
"But it doesn't explain everything." Ignis reminded, compassion still evident by the softening of his tone.
They took the same route back to the room as the night before, and when they entered the room Prompto was already there, sitting on the edge of the bed with the pictures, which he had since organized into an old wooden box with bronze hinges, about the size and capacity of a shoebox. As Ignis approached the bed he pulled the photograph out of his breast pocket and dropped it into the smaller blond’s lap.
“And alright, I’ll admit it.” Ignis kept his voice low in volume and tenor. “Think what you will of the cold spots and auditory hallucinations, but the photograph situation is worrisome.”
"Hmm," Prompto sighed, looking at the picture. The edges were beginning to look worn with the repeated handling. "So, what's our next move?"
With the photograph secure in the box, in chronological order of when it would have been taken, Prompto clicked the box closed and put it back into the same drawer.
That’s where Ignis was stumped. Gladio’s security camera idea would have been good, but it was difficult to acquire tech at this point in rebuilding. His own idea of hiding the picture had failed, somehow. The only thing he could think of was to give the youngest of them a turn, though he knew very well what that entailed. “Well, we keep checking for the photo in the throne room, obviously, but there has to be another step we can take. Prompto, you seem to be dead convinced we’re being haunted. How does one find ghosts? And more, how does one eliminate them?”
"I'd say the Nox Fleuret family but-" Shaking his head, Prompto looked up at the other two. "I'm not sure if there's another family of oracles or something. And then finding them after all this time and hoping they survived the long night? It's a long shot and probably won't work. I can look in the library?" Which had remained relatively untouched during the last ten years.
“Hey, what’re you doing? You know I can’t get it if it’s in there, Prompto.”
“Tomorrow we’re scheduled to help with the rebuilding of the west wing. It’s only us and probably four or five of Monica’s people so it will be up to us to determine where the cold breezes and echoes are coming from. Assuming the problem reoccurs in the west wing.” Ignis took a deep breath and headed to the closet, having to check one more thing before he conceded to the plans of the others. “Stay sharp.”
“Luna’s gonna be sad, man. Don’t do this to me. That one was her favorite.”
"Which one was her favorite?" Prompto looked away from Ignis, trying to find the source of the voice.
"What're you talking about?" Gladio was already shirtless and was moving over to Prompto.
"I'm not talking to you." Prompto held out his hand, putting his pointer finger to his lips with a 'shh'. "Someone's talking to me and I can't hear him if you're talking!"
The photo was, in fact, no longer stashed an arm’s length in the vent as Ignis had left it, and he returned with mild exasperation etched across his scarred brow.
“Prompto, you’re probably hearing someone through the walls or vents.” Ignis had yet to even remove his jacket, a thin line of stress building atop his shoulders. He did not want to undress if he was going to have to go back out, specifically back to the throne room or the library.
“I don’t think so. Like. It really does sound like they are standing,” Prompto elongated the last word as he stood and walked a few paces before him. “Right about here.” He gestured to the spot at the floor as if this realization was going to make the invisible man pop out of nowhere.
Of course no such thing happened, though Ignis did twitch a bit and looked away… if one could call it looking. “Gladio, is that same spot cold, then? Or are these two phenomena unrelated?”.
Gladio sighed, moving over to the spot in question, replacing Prompto as he moved aside. And in fact, it was cold. “It is.”
“So, it is a ghost!” Prompto exclaimed, jumping and tossing his fist to the air.
“Prompto. That’s not proof. All it means is the two of you are bouncing off of each other.” Ignis sighed, removing his visor and sitting down on the edge of the bed with a hand against his forehead.
“Fine.” Prompto threw his jacket onto the ground, folding his arms over his chest. “You don’t have to believe me. I’m going to the library. You can- whatever!” Prompto threw his hands over his head as he trudged out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him.
Ignis felt the door slam through his bones and once the tremor had subsided he sat down, letting his lips part, slightly. Had he really upset the man so much as to leave in such a manner. He stopped and recalled his words. “Aren’t you going to follow him?”
“No.” Gladio stated simply, slipping into a spot next to Ignis. “I think he needs a moment alone. Prove himself right or wrong. You’re right though. We are both stressed. You are too. Something is going on, I’m just not sure what. We’ll figure it out, and if we need to, we will both sort out our mental problems. Scouts honor.”
Ignis let out a sigh, unmoving other than the drop of his shoulders. "I told you I was overexaggerating. No one has mental problems."
"Well, let's let him sort that out. He'll be fine. Just give him time." Gladio promised, wrapping his arm around his lover. "He'll come back in a better mood."
"I hope you're right." Ignis leaned into the touch, both eyes pressed tightly closed. "If I'm being too cold or too rough, you will tell me honestly, won't you? I'm a terrible judge."
"I will always let you know." Gladio promised.
....
The library was relatively unused and had taken a lot to get back into running order. Not for any destruction or misuse but simply from how thickly ten years of dust had covered every surface. Even now, as a single attendant sat at a table near the entrance, dust was still everywhere.
The little old lady bowed her head as Prompto entered, not even a little sure where to start. What was he looking for exactly? He'd start with genealogy, see if that lead him anywhere. He quickly asked where the old family records were and was pointed to the back of the library.
The Lucian library was intimidating to say the least. Thousands upon thousands of books reaching several stories. It was a miracle that this place had not been destroyed.
For Prompto, the four book shelves of records were a sea of despair. "This is gonna take years! "
"What good are books gonna do? You don't really want us to leave, do you?"
The sudden sound made Prompto jump. "I don't know who you are. Iggy thinks you're a voice in my head." Prompto spun around, trying to find the source of the voice.
"No. You were pointed the right way before! You're not crazy. You're right. And of all people I'd have thought you'd recognize me right away."
"Noct?" The words came out choked and his voice wiggling as Prompto forced the tears away. "It can't be?" But everything else made so much more sense if it was true.
"I've been trying to get to you for months. I'm so glad you can finally hear me." His voice was almost a whisper, an echo as though he was speaking through the vents. "Luna's here, too. I'm so sorry, Prompto."
“Luna?” Prompto looked around. “Why isn’t she talking? You’ve been here for months? Since-” Prompto cut off feeling a slight stab in his chest at the thought and the image that flashed through his mind. “What’s there to be sorry about, dude? I am so glad. I missed you! Wish I could hug you though. Dude. This is weird!”
"She's trying. Can't quite do it, yet. She hasn’t even been able to leave the throne room. Guess it takes a while. Will you tell the other guys I miss them?"
"I'll tell Gladio. But like Ignis doesn't believe you can be a ghost. Ya know. Skeptic. But I'll try. Think we gotta find a way to really convince him. You Think you can do something to convince him?"
"I'm really limited to what I can do. I can write on foggy windows and move paper light objects. That's pretty much…" At that moment Noctis's voice started to fade out. The next few words were only broken syllables as though transmitted through a cellphone in a tunnel, before cutting out completely.
“Noct.” Prompto frowned, looking over to where it sounded like the King was. “You’re breaking up. I guess you gotta work on your ghost muscles. You never were very good at working out though. I got an idea. Kay? Just follow along.”
....
When Prompto returned to the bedroom, he found that Gladio and Ignis had already tucked in for the night. With a frown, he quickly undressed, and climbed into his side of the bed. He quickly snuggled into the back of Iggy’s neck, smelling the scent of the blond’s hair. “Sorry Iggy. I shouldn't have run off. I figured it out though.”
…
Morning came as usual, and since the sun had returned the ritual had become one of waking before dawn to watch the sun rise into the sky from the top of the Citadel. Even Ignis had continued with the habit, though he couldn't see the colors that flooded the sky, touching the city and surrounding lands. He claimed it was nice enough that he could sense the light at all.
However, instead of the usual wake-up routine there was a message, painted in white across the bedroom mirror, the first thing Prompto and Gladio would see when they turned on the lamps.
The message was simple 'good morning :)'.
“Morning!” Prompto exclaimed with a smile, sitting up, and looking at the other two. Of course, now that Noctis and Prompto were back in cahoots with each other, the antics could only get weirder. “So I told you it was a ghost right? Well ...”
“Dude. You could have done that while we were asleep.” Gladio huffed, grabbing his robe as he moved towards the door, like every morning.
Of course Ignis had no idea what they were talking about.
“Dude!” Prompto whined, slipping his slippers on and groaning. “It didn’t work, Noct.” Prompto grumbled as he passed the mirror.
"That's not funny, Prompto." Ignis was last to get out of bed, but the words that left the smaller man's mouth had stuck him.
"Dude. Okay. You don't have to be so mean. You think I'd make this up? Come on. You both know me better than that!" Prompto threw his hands back up. "I thought it was a good idea. I'm surprised it worked but .. What would it take to convince you, Iggy?"
There was a pinch to Ignis's brow and a quiver to his lip, but as he marched toward the closet to gather his clothing he stopped. "I get it. It's been like this since Noctis passed. Like Fodina Caestino all over again. If I'm falling behind, you don't have to wait for me."
"Fine." Prompto felt tears pushing forward, but he met Ignis's 'gaze' head on. "You two enjoy your sunrise."
Prompto stormed out of the room, disappearing before the other two could stop him.
Ignis wasn't going to be enjoying anything, not with the indication he'd gotten from Prompto's response. "Gladio… if you're still in the room, I apologize, but… you should know, too. That I understand how difficult it's been here with three of us since Noctis… left. Three is an unstable number. Someone is always going to be the odd man. If the two of you wanted to remove the spare wheel you could just tell me. You don't have to… go through all this…"
“Ignis.” Gladio was stern, moving to the other man’s side. “That isn’t what this is about. At all. You know that. We managed for ten years, we will continue managing. But did you actually stop and think that maybe, and call it crazy, Prompto actually believes this is true? Put your head aside. Prompto doesn’t want to hurt any of us. Just, humor the boy and we might be surprised. Ya know, like kids. I know I would love it if Noctis was still around.”
"And what about you? About your cold spots? If all this were true…" Ignis had resolved. He was not going to the Citadel roof today. It would be too much. "Let's say it's true. I can't help either of you. I can't hear anything. Can't feel anything. Certainly can't see anything. What good am I? Perhaps the two of you should figure it out on your own. That's the option that makes sense."
“I don’t know Iggy. All I know is that we still need to support each other. We still need each other. Ain’t gotta agree with him, but he’s trying to tell us something and we’re not listening. Just, try? If it’s him, and I am not sure it is, and we humor him, maybe he’ll stop. If he ain’t doing this stuff, then we’ll find that out too.” Gladio sighed, wanting to crawl back into bed now more than ever.
Without saying anything more Ignis stepped the rest of the way to the closet and started to dress himself.
….
"You know you should watch the sunrise, right?" The crackled voice echoed quietly into Prompto's ear, easily keeping pace despite his quick and aggravated gait.
Prompto stopped, wiping his hand across the back of his hand. “What’s the point? I mean, you’re here right? You’ve been here the whole time. The sunrise was something we did to feel close to you. But now I’m fighting with Iggy, and Gladio doesn’t want to stand up to him. I mean, Ignis feels so isolated most of the time cause he can’t see. Why can’t you talk to Iggy?” Sniffling, Prompto started to move to the elevators, doing as he was told, even though he really didn’t feel like it.
"I can't go outside. I've tried. Maybe take a picture for me. You haven't been taking enough pictures." There was a pause, though it was brief. "I can't figure out how to reach Iggy. I don't know why."
"Oh, yeah. Um. I can do that. I wonder why you can't leave. Or why you can't reach Iggy. It would make this so much easier." Prompto stepped into the elevator, pressing the highest floor.
"You guys will be okay. I can't be the reason you guys break up...that's...the opposite of what I want."
Prompto was silent for a moment, leaning back against the wall as the elevator took them up. "Have you tried rolling in flour?"
"No. Do you know where there's a bunch of flour? But Ignis still can't see me."
The elevator dinged again, signifying they'd reached the top.
"Find me something sticky to roll in when you get back. Though it's easier for me in the night or in the morning. I don't know why."
"I'll think about it. Honey? Jelly? Why sticky?" Prompto asked, biting his lip. "I will figure something out. And I'll grab some sunrise photos for you and Luna."
"I meant that will stick to-"
The instant the elevator doors opened, Noct's voice stopped.
"Oh. I think I got you." Prompto said, turning around as the cool breeze from the early morning rushed around him. He pulled out his Lokton, and, as promised, took pictures of the sunrise.
….
The sun rose into the sky, and by the time the colors had faded to a smooth shade of blue, something had changed within the Citadel. A murmur of voices hinted that there was a vandal in the building, though no one could fathom who it would be. The source of the uproar was in the throne room. Someone had written across the throne ‘Noctis Lucis Caelum was here’. And then, in even bigger letters across the carpet that spanned the entire distance from the dais to the door ‘Noctis Lucis Caelum is still here’. Along with the indiscernible imprint of a face.
Gladio burst into the throne room, face red at the news. “Who did this?” he was physically trembling as he moved past the words on the carpet, and glanced up at the throne, to see the white paint. “Call everyone in the citadel here now. Anyone employed or who lives here. This is over. I am done.”
It took the better part of an hour to collect all of the employees and residents, as so many parts of the Citadel were under construction all at once. By the time everyone was gathered the throne room was full, much like it would have been during a Royal address. Ignis had come in with the construction workers from the wing, and as such was short his coat and almost blended in with the crowd. He was having difficulty concentrating, surrounded by so many voices at once.
Once he’d pushed his way through he approached the dais, where Gladio and Cor were both standing, rage pouring off their respective persons. “What happened?”
“Someone graffitied the throne room. Wrote ‘Noctis was here’ across the throne and ‘Noctis is still here’ on the carpet.” Gladio let out an angry huff, eyes scanning the room before him. The only person who was missing was, “Have you seen Prompto since his blow up this morning?”
“I’ve been working in the west wing all morning. I’ve barely had contact with anyone. And I certainly haven’t seen him.” The blunder with the sight reference didn’t upset Ignis in the slightest. In a better mood Ignis would have been the first to make such a joke. His voice lowered, a breath pushing through his nose. “Look on the roof. He never misses a sunrise…”
Gladio looked over to Cor. He released a breath, trying to force the tension out of his body. Hands unclenching, he finally spoke. “You can handle everyone else, or you want to wait and scold Prompto in person.”
“Gladio.” The Marshal warned, his brow creasing as he gave Gladio one of his more serious looks. “You let him defend himself, first. Innocent until he proves to us otherwise. As for everyone else.” He turned toward the crowd. “ We are going to have each of you come up individually, explain your whereabouts.”
Gladio left, leaving the other two to deal with questioning what was the majority of Insomnia while he went to fetch their missing friend.
…
"The cats have gotten in the kitchen again." The janitor on duty sighed, heading in the same direction as Gladio. "There's flour everywhere!"
"What're you talking about?" Gladio quirked his brow as he waited for the elevator to show up.
"There's about twenty kilos of flour, all over the kitchen. Cat paws everywhere. You don't think whoever painted the throne room was responsible for that too, do you?" The man was saucer eyed, starting at Gladio with desperation that made him look ten years older than he was.
"I'll look into it once we've got this mess taken care of. Promise." Everything was getting so strange and there didn't seem to be any way one person could be causing all the chaos. Gladio waved the man along, making a mental note to figure that one out.
The janitor disappeared around the corner, just as the doors of the elevator opened.
Standing in the corner of said elevator was a man. But not just a man. One covered from head to toe in flour, yet leaning with one leg crossed over the other as though he were putting on an air of importance. He raised a hand, and a brow, then mouthed something though no voice came out.
Blinking, Gladio stared at the figure, unsure what to make of what he was seeing. "I really am getting sick. I'll wait for the next elevator..."
The figure waved obviously saying 'no' repeatedly until the doors closed. However, when the next elevator opened the floury man was still there.
"Okay. I've lost it. Totally and completely lost it. I'm seeing shit." Reluctantly, Gladio stepped into the elevator, turning his back on what he believed was a hallucination.
Grinning, the floury man reached out and started trying to get Gladio's attention by patting his shoulder repeatedly. He knew that Gladio could feel him.
When the cold spot showed up on his shoulder, Gladio turned around. "What is going on?" The flour on the man's hand was gone, leaving nothing but air where a hand should be.
The invisible hand lifted and the man pointed to it then himself. When it didn't seem to sink in he brushed some flour off of himself onto the floor and started to write. N-o-c-t-i-
The elevator dinged and opened. As it did the man was gone, leaving only the letters in flour on the floor.
It was with mouth agape, that Prompto found Gladio staring at the ground.
"You got flour on your back. Actually, you got flour everywhere, you helping in the kitc-" Lavender blues looked down and smirked. "You know I told him to wait for me. Did you see Noct? I only suggested flour like earlier, but I guess Noctis is determined."
"What are you talking about Prompto?" Gladio looked up, face as white as the flour all about the elevator.
The prints lining Gladio's back were distinctly hands and much smaller than his own. Once the two men were inside as the doors closed the cold returned, though the man covered in flour was no longer there.
"Well this is annoying." Came Noct's voice in Prompto's ear.
“Oh Hey Noct. Gladio being thick headed?” Prompto asked, receiving a concerned look from Gladio.
“I think I need a nap. Or maybe I already am dreaming. I feel a little light headed.”
"Yeah. And when the doors opened all my flour fell on the floor." The elevator started its descent, and more letters started appearing in the white. -s …. G-l-a-d-i-o I-'-m r-e-a-l.
Gladio’s knees wobbled, and he found himself collapsing onto one knee. He threw a hand to steady himself on the handrail while the other went to his head. “I don’t-”
Prompto rushed to Gladio’s side, placing a hand on the large man’s back. “You okay? You’re looking really pale.”
“Nnnn-”
"Uh oh. I think he needs to lie down… take him to your room I'll go get Luna."
And immediately the cold spot was gone.
“Gladio?” Prompto frowned, pushing the button to the floor they lived on. “Were gonna go take you to lie down.”
But that was easier said than done. Gladio was heavy, and even with him bracing the wall, it was difficult to maneuver him around. After what felt like a lifetime, he was laying on the bed.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.”
"Luna says he'll be fine. I just freaked him out and triggered a stress reaction… did anyone-gt-is…"
And once again the voice was gone.
“Okay. Gladio?” Prompto sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the bigger man’s face. “Luna says you’ll be okay and that you’re just stressed. I don’t know where they went. He keeps doing this where he talks to me and then like a bad radio he cuts out. You feeling better?”
“Uhnn.” Gladio let his eyes stare up at the ceiling, the color slowly returning to his face. “I think so. But you’re gonna have to run that by me again...”
Which he then did, twice. As far fetched as it all seemed there were definitely aspects that Gladio could no longer contest. The flour, the voices and cold spots… all Noctis. And the graffiti in the throne room was most definitely his doing as well. The problem, of course, was trying to convince everyone else.
….
After a few hours, the Marshal had let everyone else return to work without answers and without word from Gladio or Prompto.
By mid afternoon Ignis had finally decided to take a break. But after getting some water and something to eat he'd only been hearing the same thing over and over. Floury disasters, graffiti and overall irritation. Also the rumor that since the sunrise meeting no one had seen either Prompto or Gladio.
Part of him was worried if everything was alright, the other part feared the worst. Where was that little voice that told him things were going to be okay? Apparently on vacation.
He returned to the shared room, one of the few places no one else would go, and let himself inside, hesitantly. He didn't hear anything. No talking or moaning, not even snoring.
“Okay, so do you think that would work?” Prompto looked up, seeing Ignis standing in the doorway. Gladio was still in bed, all the color finally returned to his face. “Oh, hey Ignis. Everything okay?”
There was a pause as the blind man processed the nonchalant tone. His own, in turn was low, the stress still evident in his expression even without view of his eyes under his visor. "Everyone thinks the two of you are missing. Apparently you are not."
“Gladio was, uh, feeling under the weather. He almost passed out in the elevator. I-uh- He came to find me on the roof, since I wasn’t sure what to do after the sun rose, and I-the way that we left off wasn’t great, and I was trying to,” Prompto let out a sigh, his words getting away from him. Ignis's face tipped downwards, a frown slowly forming at the edges.
“I am sorry Iggy. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I just don't wanna break up what we have. You guys mean a lot and if that means you don’t want me talking about the things that are going on, I won’t. I just-” There were tears in Prompto’s eyes again, and he looked down, away from Ignis’s gaze. Even if the blind man couldn’t see, it still felt like he was staring into his soul sometimes.
Gladio shifted, placing a strong hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
"I just don't want to hear the excuses." The gravel in Ignis's voice did not originate from anger, but somewhere deeper in his chest. "I care deeply about the two of you as well. If this is what you want, you can just be honest with me. It will not change our friendship. The excuses and the silence are… are much harder."
Tears fell, as Prompto stood, squaring his shoulders to the older blond. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Iggy. I have been honest with you, and you’ve just gotten mad at me!”
“Iggy.” Gladio moved to the edge of the bed, moving to stand between the two of them. “Do you believe me, and take what I say as truth?”
A hand moved to Ignis's brow as though something had dropped a load of bricks on his shoulders. "I'm not mad! I'm- if you want to dissolve this arrangement I will move out so that we don't have to be frustrated with each other, anymore!"
“Dissolve?” Prompto crumbled to the ground as if he had been punched in the gut, the tears now flowing even more. “What on-Eos-would make-you-think that?” Prompto forced the words out between sobs as he shook his head. “
“Iggy? You know better than this.” Gladio reached a hand out to the blind man, shaking his head. “This isn’t what Noctis wanted. He wanted us to stay together after- And I have every intention of holding us together if it tears me apart in the process.”
"Why would it tear you apart? And why won't you answer for what you want rather than what someone wants who-who isn't here?" Gladio’s touch and the sound of Prompto's tears were almost enough to break Ignis's composure, which was rapidly cracking. "All the stories, excuses, absconding together all day without telling another soul? What am I supposed to think?"
“What are you talking about?” Gladio let out a sigh, looking down at Prompto and back up at Ignis. “I saw him, Iggy. He covered himself with flour to try and prove it to me. That is why there is flour everywhere. Prompto has time stamped photos of the sunrise, and he’s got an alibi for at least a good two maybe three hours this morning. He couldn't have done any of the vandalizing. Think Iggy, just forget what you want to believe. If Noctis was alive or a ghost this is one hundred percent in his wheelhouse. Right? You’ve known Noctis longer than anyone. Longer than me. Would he do this?”
Of course he would, but it didn't make the pain go away. It had been a dull throbbing for years, a pain that was now being poked and stabbed at by the only people who'd ever made it go away. He wasn't surprised Gladio wouldn't answer his questions, anymore. He'd always been there for Noctis, alone. Same with Prompto. To Ignis, it all made sense. Noctis had been the glue, even when he'd been trapped in the crystal. What was there now but dead memories? A ‘ghost’ was not glue. It was a bandaid.
"Let's say I believe you. What does that change?"
"It means everything is different. It means Noctis is trying to reach us. It means," Gladio choked on the words. "It means he didn't disappear. Don't you want that? Instead of the alternative..."
"If it's what both of you want then fine." Ignis shook his head and slowly sat at the edge of the bed. Logic wasn't winning anything. It didn't matter what he said or that he still didn’t believe in ghosts. "What do you want me to do?"
"Noctis wanted to try something. You still here, buddy?" Prompto had stopped crying and was now standing, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.
“Yeah…” a hint of sorrow in the ethereal voice was followed by a long and uneventful silence. “Ignis? Are you alive in there?”
Nothing.
“Prompto. What am I waiting for?” The defeated sigh fell from Ignis’s lips, his brow disappearing behind his tinted visor.
“Hold on.” Prompto bit his lip, reaching up slowly and placing his hands on either side of Ignis’s visor. “You are always so ‘business’ like when you have this on. Maybe it’ll help?” Without waiting for a complaint, he removed the tinted glass from Ignis’s face.
“Okay Noct. Try now?” Prompto was shaking slightly, hoping to all hope that this would work.
Ignis immediately squinted, his entire face contorting in shock. “Would you turn off that flashlight first please?”
“What Flashlight?” Gladio asked, a concerned expression as he shot a look at Prompto.
“Iggy?” Prompto looked from Gladio to Ignis, to where he figured Noctis was. “Noct. Where are you?”
“Same place as before. Right in front of you guys. He still isn’t reacting to me. Maybe it’s that stick that crawled up his butt.”
Ignis closed his eyes and turned away, seeming to find some relief in the action. “If this is still part of your prank, so help me…”
“Look for a flashlight Iggy.” Gladio put a hand on the small of Ignis’s back.
“Noctis says the light is coming from where he’s standing.” Prompto looked from Ignis to about where Noctis should be.
When Ignis confronted the light head on there was nothing. A second swipe at the air and he felt nothing. Someone had to be playing a prank. “What the hell sort of luminescence is so damned bright -ugh…”
“You think it’s me? Here, let me try something. I’m going to move over by Gladio’s dresser.”
“Okay, you want me to tell him?” Prompto tilted his head.
“No. Then he’ll think you’re lying. I’ll tell you. You tell Gladio. Then make him point me out.”
“Prompto, are you talking to your ghost again? This isn’t a game. And it’s not going to convince me just because you decided to move the light around.” He signaled to the right. Ignis couldn’t do it. He couldn’t turn off the logical side of his brain. He was trying but the switch was buried.
“Actually he’s pointing right at me.”
“Ignis?” Prompto reached his hand out and touched the blond. “I haven’t moved.”
“Neither have I, Specs.” Gladio’s hand had remained on the small of Ignis’s back the whole time.
“Noctis says he is standing by Gladio’s dresser. So, you’re pointing at him...”
“So now Noctis is not only a ghost, but a flashlight?” Ignis was just trying to clarify what was going on. His finger moved again, towards the door.
“Make him stop pointing at me! It’s rude!”
Prompto chuckled, “Noct says pointing is rude, and I don’t see a light, do you Gladio?”
“No light.” Gladio let out a sigh. “So, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that Prompto can hear him, I can feel him and you can, uh, for lack of better words, see him?”
Ignis still wasn’t entirely convinced, but it was difficult to assess things when not all of his senses could be utilized evenly. “I suppose that’s it. Unfortunately it’s more of a ‘too much’ sort of ‘seeing’. No form, just bright, all consuming light.” He didn’t know that this was the appropriate end to all of his concerns, but it was likely the best option he had. At least until he and the other two figured things out.
“Well, I mean. That kinda makes sense too. Didn’t Noctis’s death-” The words still stung even if he was in the room with them currently, “Bring back the light? So, you seeing him as light, might not be that far fetched?” Prompto was grasping at straws, but it seemed to make sense when he vocalized it.
At least Prompto seemed to be finding a foothold in the madness. It was better than tears and spiralling. Gladio was, as ever, an immovable rock.
"So what you're meaning to say is…" Ignis averted his eyes from the light and sighed. "Between the three of us we can't even interact with him on the most basic levels?"
"Sounds like it." Gladio removed his hand from behind Ignis's back, crossing his arms.
"So does that mean you believe me? Us?" Prompto perked up, his sunshine smile drawing across his lips for the first time in days.
”I…” But it was all still very far fetched, despite how adamantly Prompto seemed to believe it. Ignis’s throat felt infinitely dry as he dropped his head and parted his lips. “I’m trying. I’m going to try… that’s the best I can offer you.”
All the stress melted off Prompto instantly as he threw his arms around Ignis, giving him the biggest hug he could. "Thank you Iggy!"