Chapter Text
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Prompto's world is hazy and all mixed up once he feels himself come around. Stars dance their way across the underside of his eyelids, holding his brain hostage to confusion. He doesn't dare to open his eyes with the pain that settles behind them. What on Eos happened?
Something deep in his chest aches tremendously, pain both sharp and dull at the same time.
The last thing Prompto remembers was his body collapsing into the dirt on the group's walk to the next hunt. The terrain of the desert surrounding hammerhead was particularly unforgiving, maybe he had slipped and hurt himself?
The small band of guys had just moved on from their previous hunt - a large group of pretty aggressive garula - and on to the next, trying to gain their funds back after Noctis' little fishing addiction had left them high and dry on a particularly impulsive purchase. New rods don't come cheap, Prompto supposed.
Normally, a pack of wild garula would've been no issue, especially not with Noctis in such high spirits. But this hunt had left the sharpshooter a little worse for wear. It was his own fault, really. Prompto had taken his eyes off the pack, only for a moment, to retrieve his camera from the overstuffed Armiger. Then, before he knew what had happened, he found himself pinned beneath the largest of the beasts. Everything below the neck crushed under heavy muscles and stiff fur.
The garula had barreled into Prompto while he was preoccupied, trapping him under its immense weight. Had the boy been more… fleshy, the beast might have flattened him outright. At least doing some serious permanent damage to his body.
Thankfully - though, not if you ask him - Prompto is made of stronger stuff. Both mentally and physically. Of course, he was still human, he didn't escape without a few broken ribs, at least. But having a sort of 'metal endoskeleton', as he remembers some scientist putting it once, really helped save his ass.
He only prayed that none of the more important magitechnological parts in him weren't damaged too.
Though, Prompto hadn't exactly gotten around to explaining all that yet. Their unfortunate run in with Ardyn in Zegnautus Keep had made it pretty difficult to hide his secret any longer. Much to his dismay, the group had been made aware of what their sharpshooter truly was. Just- not to the full extent.
"I'm one of them-" really only gave away so much information, and Prompto would very much like to keep it that way.
How are you supposed to tell the people you love that you're practically a robot parading as one of them? A faulty human clone, kept functional and active with the assistance of a mess of internal wiring and mechanisms.
Still, Noctis had saved him anyway. Both from Zegnautus Keep and from the garula attack. Pulling him from underneath the beast and forcing a pretty substantial amount of their last potion down his throat. Much the same way Ignis might force vegetables down Noctis'.
At the potion's mercy, Prompto's ribs had definitely taken the most difficult path in correcting themselves. Shifting and tearing through his insides just to heal themselves again immediately after. That didn't change the fact it was damn painful, though. Ripping an agonised scream and a loud cracking noise from the young blonde.
The rest of the group had winced guiltily at the sound of it. Assuming the offending noise was that of broken ribs bending back into place. Prompto had winced for other reasons - it certainly wasn't his first experience with a piece of internal magitechnological equipment breaking. It sounded a hell of a lot like that.
Poor Prompto releases a gentle sigh and takes a few moments to get his mind in check. It's about time to open his eyes, he supposes. Willing his body to work with him, not against him, Prompto calms his breath and forces his eyes to open, rubbing the aching feeling of long rest from his tired eyes. At least his hands worked as they should.
Taking inventory on what he can see, Prompto comes to the conclusion that he must be in a hospital room. White, clinical sheets, even more white, clinical wallpaper. In fact, pretty much everything is white and miserable. Hospitals really have such a comforting feel, don't they?
It's all pretty boring, aside from a mess of black melted into the only real piece of furniture decorating the room. A small guest armchair containing one Crown Prince of Lucis. Noctis looks exhausted, dark bags hang beneath his eyes, his hair greasy and matted to his forehead, all stuck up in weird ways. He looks as though he hasn't seen a proper shower in a while.
The sight before Prompto just begs more questions. How long has he been out? Where are the others? Is Noctis okay? Am I okay?
He shuts his mind off to look around a little harder, hoping to find anyone else… Only to find himself frozen upon his eyes meeting the bed.
Both himself, and the bed, are coated in a layer of soft feathers. They decorate the sheets from head to toe, covering his chest, legs, arms, and feet. He notes how they glow a soft, warm light, illuminating both skin and bedding below.
Phoenix downs. So many that it takes Prompto's breath away for a moment. He's never seen so many. There must be at least 30- no, 40… He sits up slowly, ignoring the ache in his chest, to hold one and examine it gently in his hands.
Chocobo feathers, all pretty and wonderfully yellow, imbued with magic strong enough to pull you safely back from the very brink of life. Truly, Prompto has never seen anything like it, it must have cost a fortune to acquire so many. Did Noctis do this - Spend the last of the Crown's funds on curatives for him? And that would mean… They thought he was dead!? No way!
'I wouldn't just keel over and die so suddenly!' Prompto whines mentally. But it was true, even he didn't know exactly what had happened. He just had an… educated guess. The sudden black out, the dull pain in his chest, that awful cracking noise that spread across the battlefield…
His battery must have broken. Or, at least cracked. Prompto was awake and alive, which was a good sign. Nothing to imply his human heart was alone in keeping together his desperately power-hungry body. The most likely situation he must have found himself in is one where his battery was crushed from the garula's impact - still functioning, just less so, and not for much longer. His short - or maybe long, he has no idea - sleep will have helped recuperate some charge back into the device. Not that it would last long; before he knows it, the broken battery will start leaking fluid, leaving his heart alone and struggling to cope.
If nothing is done about the battery by then, it's game over for Prompto.
"Prom…?"
Noctis' drained, quiet voice pulls Prompto from his morbid thoughts. Dragging his tired eyes over to The Prince, he discovers Noctis awake and barely standing, his legs wobbling beneath him. He looks even worse for wear now that his eyes are open.
The expressions that muddy his face are busy and unreadable - some mix of anger, confusion, fear, relief, and panic. An uncomfortable thing to see on the usually so stoic Prince's face.
"Prom… you're actually awake!" Stumbling over to the bed's side, Noctis swipes away a small mess of feathers to grip Prompto's hand. Holding it tight with more strength than to be expected, considering the state of him.
"You went down so suddenly, we- I didn't know what to do… You weren't breathing." The hand intertwined with Prompto's only holds tighter as the other reaches up to caress his face, oh so gently. "Your heart was so quiet, the doctors tried everything but nothing worked… I made these for you… They didn't work, either…."
Made?
Noctis' eyes refuse to leave the blonde, even as his own eyes drift down to the bed once again.
All those Phoenix downs - Noctis had made every one of them himself, using chocobo feathers, Prompto's favourite. No wonder the Prince looks so exhausted, the magic necessary to create even the simplest of curatives was enough to leave Noctis tired and lethargic for hours. He'd never even attempted to create Phoenix downs, such intense magic felt like it would rip you apart from the inside out even to use… To have to create one - Prompto couldn't begin to imagine the strain Noctis must have put himself through for this. All for something that wouldn't have worked anyway - not for a broken machine.
"You've been out for days, dude. We've all been taking turns keeping you company, Gladio made you listen to his awful romance novel." He lets out a soft chuckle. "Even Cindy came to visit."
Prompto doesn't have it in himself to smile, as much as he wants to.
"I'm so glad you're awake, Prom… Talk to me, what happened?"
Right… talking. This was all so confusing, so sudden. Between the pain and fear of the broken battery rolling around in his chest, Prompto had simply forgotten to speak. His mouth tasted metallic, heavy like lead. The young blonde opens his mouth to speak, wincing as static escapes past his lips - not good.
"Noc… Noct-...Noct- Noct- Noct- Noct-" Prompto stutters, unable to control his mouth. His voice is quiet, raspy, like he was having to choke the words out himself. His natural vocal chords are weak, made strong by more magitechnological enhancements - the joys of being what he is.
'Way to sound desperate, Idiot.' He chastises himself. Of course, it was completely unrealistic to expect only the battery to break. Now, it was clear - his voice box had taken a hit too. Prompto spews out his words like a glitched video game character, stuck on loop till someone - most likely himself - shuts him up.
"I'm here, it's okay! I'm not going anywhere, man." The Prince's expression morphs from relief, right back into concern.
'Now Noct is even more worried, perfect.'
The severity of the break would have to be checked, along with the battery. At least he could live without a voice for a while. Poor Prompto throws his head back to the pillow in annoyance, a static groan leaving his throat upon impact. He screws his eyes shut as tight as they'll go and wills himself not to start crying, that just wouldn't be manly at all…
"Prompto… Talk to me, c'mon." Noctis' dislodged hand gently brushes the hair from the blonde's eyes with all the care in the world.
'I can't.'
'I'm broken.'
'My battery is dying.'
'I want a hug so bad, right now.'
Prompto settles, instead, for groaning again and covering his face with both hands. Praying to each god that this uncomfortable hospital bed might swallow him whole, let him escape this situation without having to reveal his life's worst secrets to his most beloved companion.
"Prom… let me help."
He stifles a small cry.
"V-Voice-" Hands cover his mouth before he finds himself stuck on loop again.
Voice, what? That would hardly be any help to Noctis, but it's all Prompto has.
"Something's wrong with your voice? That's okay- you don't have to talk." The Prince sits back a little, pulling the chair up to the bed for a more comfortable seat.
Noctis is no fool, his obliviousness always seemed to mysteriously vanish during times like these, replaced by a warm, yet still calculating, understanding of his surroundings. Prompto supposes a Royal needs to have that sort of people-reading ability. He wasn't special for receiving such treatment… Noctis was simply being an adult about this - Keeping cool for the sake of someone under duress, not necessarily for Prompto.
"I'll get a doctor, maybe they'll know how to help. Stay here, Prom. Don't move, oka-" Before Noctis is given a chance to finish, or even just rise to his feet, Prompto's shaky hand finds itself wrapped tightly around his wrist, tugging on the fabric of his glove. No words are said, the blonde only shakes his head profusely, a terrified look warping his features.
There's no way Noct can go get a doctor for this… They'll find out what's wrong, what he is. They'll be horrified, they'll call Noctis an awful ruler for keeping an MT as a pet… He couldn't live with that on his conscience. He'd rather the battery just fail than that.
Their eyes meet, both boys full of worry. "You don't want a doctor? Prom, do you know what's wrong?"
Prompto nods, slowly.
A soft sigh escapes the Prince's lips as he leans forward to brush the hair back from Prom's damp forehead, letting a hand rest on the top of his head as it goes, lightly smoothing it out with his thumb.
"Okay. Help me out here, man. I'm worried about you, y'know? Do you want to write instead?" Fishing around in his pockets, Noctis pulls his phone out and holds it in front of Prompto. "You wanna type? Just don't touch my King's Knight."
The Blonde takes the phone with a miserable expression.
"-That was a joke."
'I know, I wouldn't touch it anyway, dude. I'm no cheater.'
Wrestling with his limbs was far more of a struggle than Prompto had expected, his fingers stiff and aching. Still, the phone was passed back to Noctis with the notes app open and ready.
"[Injured in garula attack T-T]"
The young blonde watches as Noctis slowly takes in the message, His face quickly flipping through expressions. Concern, suspicion, then a faint smile - Presumably at the emoticon gracing the end of the message. Prompto wouldn't be caught dead typing like some middle aged parent, the emoticon stays.
Still, Noctis doesn't look overly convinced. It was definitely a long shot - a pretty broad statement. But, what was he supposed to say? 'I'm practically Robo-Cop over here and I'm totally gonna conk it if I don't get a new battery soon. Y'know, like a damn phone.' No way… That would go down like a lead balloon.
The Prince glances back and forth between Prompto and the phone, clearly not convinced. "But- you downed that potion pretty fast, dude… we all heard it work. Wouldn't that have fixed any issues?" He really knew how to pick his moments of perception. The young blonde takes a beat to think, then types again.
"[Not everything…? >~<]" Real cute.
Both boys share a look, one full of unsaid words and suspicion.
"Prom," The Prince gently rests his gloved hand over Prompto's barcoded wrist, bringing it - and the phone - down out of his face. The view between them becoming unobstructed. "Is something broken?"
Curse those eyes, full of Royal grace. Curse them for being so pretty. Noctis truly knew how to work them, how to make a lesser man's heart melt and walls collapse. Whether through intimidation or adoration, it didn't matter - Noctis would always get what he set his heart to, those eyes could win wars.
Prompto can only release a soft, pained sigh as he averts his gaze from the Prince's. Not willing to look at those eyes a moment longer. What can he do, but tell the truth? Right now, it's the last thing the blonde wants to do… But what choice does he have when the feeling of energy slipping from his body, like an old faucet left dripping by accident, is already so overwhelming. Tell the truth or shut down for good - Those are his only options. Not a great decision to have to make.
Oozing concern, Noctis watches as Prompto abandons the shared phone, placing it down on the bed. Then, as Prompto's stiff, shaky hands lift to his chest, tugging his shirt up and over his head.
Could he really do this? Expose something so dangerously intimate to Noctis - Leave himself vulnerable and open to the worst of judgment. Any barrier that may have existed between them before this, would be eradicated in a second, crushed by Prompto's own hands. To see the literal living organs of your partner, their insides in the truest sense, would definitely be a whole new level of intimacy between them. Would Noctis leave after finally finding out just how different the blonde is? How utterly inhuman he can be in places. Prompto shuts his eyes and prays.
He has no choice. Time is running out and only Noctis can help.
With a deep breath for bravery - as deep as he can manage - Prompto rests his fingers to the middle of his bare chest, gently and slowly tracing the shape of a rectangular panel around his sternum. As edges start to appear, following behind the ghosted trail, he pries his fingers into the grooves and pulls it open. The panel of fake skin - made to look real like the rest of Prompto's body - opens out on a small hinge, exposing the insides like a locked door into the most private of chambers.
It conceals a cavity of metal and silicone, settled deeply between his ribs. Wires and small devices fill each crevice, tubes that contain unknown fluid and small ports for connecting cables. It's not something poor Prompto particularly enjoys the existence of, much less having to look at. Still, it's a part of him, even if it is a part he would rather keep forever under lock and key, if possible. Hidden away in this compartment are his most important pieces, keeping him running and alive with a little magitechnological assistance. Prompto's knowledge of its contents is limited - Really, who knows everything about what's going on in their body? - But he knows the most vital parts, namely the battery. It'll be in there somewhere, melting away…
One can only imagine the expressions warping the Prince's handsome features, perhaps a mix of anger and betrayal… Who wouldn't be hurt to see their partner this way?
"Yeah… That looks pretty busted, dude."
Prompto's eyes open faster than his mind can adjust to the sudden light, whipping his head over to Noctis.
"Should it be cracked like that? It's practically caved in." He's pointing to the largest device nestled into the chamber - The battery, no doubt.
Noctis didn't look angry, didn't look betrayed. Noctis looked… upset. But- not upset at Prompto, more upset for Prompto. Upset at the damage dealt to the battery, more than its existence itself. The blonde swears, if his heart didn't already feel like it, that it would've snapped in this moment. Torn in two by his own guilt.
Noctis would never judge him, not for this. He loves Prompto, truly and unconditionally… The Prince had said that himself.
"Whatever… Who cares where you were born?"
It's laughable, really - The idea that Noctis would ever have let something so unimportant bother him. What does it matter what Prompto is made of… when so much more is at stake? It was selfish to think otherwise. And, in part, Prompto felt guilt for ever having thought so little of their future King. To think Noctis would've treated a loved one so cruelly, that he could ever be so heartless as to let Prompto die here.
He wants to apologise, wants to say that Noctis is the best thing since that one King's Knight DLC from last summer. Though, nothing would come out if he tried. Instead, he offers the Prince an awkward, but genuine, smile. One from the bottom of his heart. Body language, don't fail me now!
With a gentle grip, Prompto brings Noctis' hand to hover by his bare chest, just shy of the offending chamber. With the other, he gestures to the broken battery, praying the Prince's lack of obliviousness stays for just a few sweet moments longer. As it stands, Prompto can't go in there alone - The awkward angle would make it way too risky, who knows what else might break in the process. No, Noctis' hands are more steady, his vision unobstructed. There's only one man for the job.
The battery would need to be removed soon, before it finally decides to coat his insides with sickly, dangerous acid. Then promptly replaced by a new one, before his poor human heart burns out under the strain of powering a body filled so heavily with metal and magic. Now, that would be fine, if they actually had a new battery. But… they don't. So, unless Prompto wants a rather painful, slow death at the hands of his Prince, something else would need to be done.
What they do have in their arsenal, however, is one Crown Prince of Lucis, a Royal blessed with elemental magic. One of said elements being electricity. If Noctis can channel a small amount of magic into Prompto's internal charging port for a little while, it might just give him enough energy to last - At least until they can find a replacement. Maybe make some phone calls, Cindy might have a spare car battery lying around that she could hook him up to. The thought of jumper cables, and carrying around a large car battery, amuses Prompto greatly.
"Prom, I don't understand. Do you need me to take it out?" Noctis' eyebrows furrow with confusion and care. Not one part of him seems happy about this - About having to go fishing around inside his partner for their broken parts. There's no helping it, though. Prompto only nods, guiltily.
"Ba- Ba- Battttttttttt- ery- ry-ry-ry-ry"
"Okay- Okay, I get it. Don't hurt yourself, dude…" He interrupts as politely as he can. It's clear - The way the Prince rolls the idea around in his head like a cat playing with yarn, unraveling it inch by inch to discover what lies in its center. Clearly, nothing good, as Noctis' expression melts into one of discomfort.
"If I- Are you sure it's safe to take out? It's a battery, it sort of sounds like you need it, Prom. Your heart isn't gonna, like, stop or anything, right?"
Prompto nods his head, then shakes it just as fast. Confusion is clear between them, but they have no time to figure it out. Debate can wait till later, till the broken device is safely removed and replaced. Till he's not slowly dying.
A heavy, worried sigh escapes Noctis' chest. His eyes settle on the battery.
"Alright… Hold still."
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