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Altissia had gone wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. They were alive, but not whole. Maybe they hadn’t been whole for a long time.
Ignis wasn’t quite ready to get out of bed. His body ached in ways that were both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The bruising and strain of battle in his muscles was nothing new, but there was something different this morning, something wrong. A burning in his veins, so faint you could almost miss it, but just enough to be ever present and uncomfortable. A tightness to the skin of his face that made him itch. And one more thing. There was a cold weight sitting on Ignis’s chest that he couldn’t shake. He wanted to get up and make some coffee and hope that the warm liquid could loosen the ice wrapped around his heart.
He couldn’t see.
His eyes were open, but he still couldn’t see. Not with any clarity. Shifts of light that didn’t hold colour the way that it used to. For a moment panic seized his muscles, tensing them painfully, before he remembered. Ah. That’s right. This was the new normal. This time when he sat up Gladio and Prompto didn’t immediately rush to his side. He had to fight back an unexplainable rush of disappointment. He’d been the one to demand that they don’t coddle him, that he could do this. But he’s never felt more alone than he did at that moment reaching for his cane, confused and scared in his new blindness.
Tentatively, he felt his way to the little kitchenette he knew was in his room. He knew how to run a coffee machine. Surely even without his sight he can manage that. He was sure of it… until he reached out across the counter and a mug shattered noisily onto the floor. Heavy footfalls quickly approached him and Ignis found that he had identified them as Gladio well before he spoke.
“Are you alright, Iggy? What happened?” Gladio sounded worried, but Ignis just let out a resigned sigh of irritation.
“I was hoping to make some coffee, apparently the mugs disagree.”
He heard Gladio sigh and then felt him move to his side, “Let me clean this up so that you don’t hurt yourself and then I’ll make some for you.”
Ignis bristled a little. Gladio wasn’t treating him like a child exactly, but the requirement for dependence made him feel like he was being coddled. He hated it. “I’m still capable of doing it myself.”
He heard the sound of ceramic falling into the garbage bin. “I know, Iggy,” Gladio said softly, “But you’ve been hurt. So let me do this for you. Please.”
The tone to Gladio’s voice took Ignis off-guard. And made his heart twist painfully. Ignis stepped away from the counter and whispered, “Alright.”
A few moments later the smell of coffee and the sounds of percolating filled the room. Ignis moved, thinking he’d sit down, but bumped square into Gladio’s chest. Startled, he dropped his cane, wondering how he didn’t notice the heat rolling off the man’s body. “Apologies,” he mumbled in embarrassment. He would have reached to pick up the cane, but Gladio’s strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a tight hug. Ignis expected him to pull away quickly, but when Gladio didn’t, Ignis returned the hug, finding himself relaxing into the heat and strength of Gladio’s body.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” Gladio murmured, dropping his head onto Ignis’s shoulder. “When I saw you lying there, I thought...“ Gladio never finished the sentence, but Ignis thought he heard his voice crack. He squeezed him tighter and whispered back, “You should have been more worried about Noct.”
“I was worried about him too, but I-” Gladio grimaced against Ignis’s shoulder like he was admitting a dirty secret. “I will always be grateful to the Gods and the Kings of Lucis for not taking you away from me.”
A shudder of emotion flooded through Ignis and he buried his face into the crook of Gladio’s neck to hide his tears.