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IGNIS HAD NEVER DOUBTED THAT HE WOULD GIVE HIS LIFE if it meant to save Noctis. He might not be his Shield, but nonetheless he was there to protect Noctis. With everything he had. No matter the cost.
Ignis felt as if he was still burning whenever he came to. There were voices around him. He noticed he was no longer outside, rain no longer dribbling down on him, no cold stones beneath him. Despite the pain he so badly wanted to escape from, he needed to know one thing.
“Noct … is he … all right?” After what he considered a positive response he was lost again, and even though he might have escaped his agony for a moment, his dreams, too, were filled with flames licking inside his bones to leave nothing behind but ashes.
The pain came in waves. Every time Ignis came to and thought it was somewhat bearable, it was the moment that someone decided to touch him, to remove the bandages and dressings on his face, and then dip around the skin that felt raw and angry. Perhaps it was this procedure that brought him back to consciousness in the first place. He gritted his teeth, and whimpered through the ordeal. He was too weak to really fight it. Too weak and too unable to see. He hadn’t yet fully understood what had happened to him and why everything was so dark and so painful. But Noctis was fine, so Ignis would be fine too. There was no other option. He would get through this, and at some point in the future all this would just be memory of a darker chapter of their story.
“What about his eyes?” Ignis heard Prompto’s voice close to the bed he lay in. “Will he … will he be able to see again?”
Ignis felt cold despite the fever roaring in his body. A sense of dread that made him choke on his next inhale. “What about … my sight?” he asked, words slurred together.
“You’re awake!” Prompto said. “The … the doctor is here.”
“You should try to sleep more.” That was Gladio’s voice coming from farther away.
“Not before I k-know,” Ignis gritted out. “I n-need to know.” Speaking was hard, thinking was hard, and yet Ignis understood fully well what the doctor said to him in a friendly, albeit clinical voice.
“You suffered severe ocular trauma. Your left eye won’t recover, but you may regain some sense of sight on the right one. Until then we need to continue the treatment to prevent inflammation and to support healing. There are burns on your face and your body that we have been treating as well. I was about to discuss it with your friends on how to proper care for you while you’re healing.”
Ignis frowned, and regretted even the slight movement instantly when it pulled on his face. “So I will be … blind.”
The silence that followed felt deafening. If Ignis hadn’t known that Gladio, Prompto and the doctor were in the room with him, he would have thought to be alone. He couldn’t even hear them breathe over the rush of blood in his ears.
“Iggy,” Gladio said, tentatively.
Ignis lifted a hand, not even knowing what he wanted to convey with it. “I … I understand. Doctor, is there any way I can take care of my wounds myself?”
“At this point I’m afraid, no,” the doctor replied. Ignis heard the intake of breath coming from Prompto and was pretty sure that Gladio stared darkly at him. “There has to be dead tissue removed with the changing of the dressings, and you wouldn’t be able to see where and how much.”
Ignis swallowed. “Understood.”
“May I proceed showing the others, then?”
As if Ignis even had a real choice in this. When the doctor wanted to show someone else how to properly care for him, it must be because he was needed elsewhere. Only briefly did Ignis wonder how bad Altissia was destroyed—not that he would ever see it. To him Altissia would always look like it had when he last saw it. He would never see anything new ever again. Ignis’ breath hitched while he grabbed the sheets in a white-knuckled grip. He nodded. “You may.”
It was an unpleasant experience. Not only when the dressings came off, but even more so when the wounds were cleaned and dead tissue was removed, and when then the antibiotic salve and the eyedrops for his right eye were applied. The doctor explained all the while what they were doing, even mentioning that they were using some kind of numbing ointment to make it less painful. Ignis really didn’t want to know just how much worse it would be without that. By the end of it he was shaking and sweating from the sting and burn of it all. His skin, though again dressed, felt raw and open to the point that he couldn’t make sense of anything around him. He heard the doctor speak, heard responses, but it all made no sense to him, and then finally—finally!—the pull of unconsciousness became too strong and Ignis passed out.
***
The pain was still throbbing in his skull when Ignis woke again. He had no way of knowing what time it even was. He felt groggy and weak, and just wanted to sleep again. Or faint, whichever came first as long as it meant he could escape this hellscape his life had become. Something caught his attention in the silence surrounding him, and he tried to breathe calmer to be able to listen. It took him a moment to pick up a quiet sniffle, to pick up anything next to the desperation he woke up to. Ignis remained very still, and then he heard it again. Someone was in the room with him and it sounded as if this someone was crying.
Immediately Ignis felt alarmed. “Did something happen to Noct?” He pushed himself up, making the throbbing pain worse.
“By the Six, Iggy!” It was Gladio speaking, voice wet with what Ignis knew to be tears. “Careful! Noct is all right. Well, still unconscious, but no worse than before.”
“Then why are you crying?” asked Ignis. He sat all the way up, and didn’t fight it when Gladio moved the pillows in his back so that he could lean against them. This was probably the most Ignis had moved by himself since he had been brought here. “Is something wrong with Prompto or with Iris?” His heart rate just refused to settle while Ignis’ mind not so helpfully came up with every which scenario that would make the Shield cry in his room. Gladio had never been ashamed of his emotions, yet he liked to lick his deepest wounds in private. He must’ve thought to be safe here with Ignis mostly down for the count, and also blind.
“They’re fine,” Gladio said. “Do you … do you need painkillers? Water? I can get you soup.”
“Gladio,” Ignis tried again. “What’s wrong?”
“You mean aside from Lunafreya being dead, our King lying next door and not waking, and my oldest friend badly injured?” Gladio said.
Ignis tilted his head in the direction of Gladio’s voice. His hand reached out and after a moment of blindly moving his arm this way and that, he met the stubbly cheek of Gladio. It was wet with tears still flowing.
Gladio moved away. “That’s the last thing I need, really, to be caught in this pathetic moment.”
Ignis snorted at that, tried to find Gladio again, but the Shield had stepped away from the bed. When he let his hand drop he felt the warmth in the bedding from where Gladio had sat while adjusting the pillows for him. “I’ve never seen you being pathetic, Gladio. You’ve also never felt the need to get away from me.” A sudden wave of nausea slammed into him, making Ignis wince.
“Iggy?” Gladio came closer again, probably with his hands outstretched. “What’s happening?”
“I might be sick,” Ignis said on a sharp exhale. Perhaps moving to sit up hadn’t been the smartest idea, no matter how much Ignis craved to feel normal. To feel in control of at least something when all he knew was lost to him, hidden in a darkness that would never lift again. Not for him. He heard Gladio curse under his breath, he might say something, even, but it fell on deaf ears. Ignis lost the fight against that burst of nausea and threw up over parts of the bed, himself and the floor. His body trembled with the effort, and instead of making him feel better, he felt even more dizzy afterwards. He might have toppled to the side and off the bed if not for Gladio’s hand steadying him.
“Careful,” Gladio said. It sounded pained in a way the Shield barely allowed himself to sound. It showed how helpless he felt in this whole situation, too. “Shit, Iggy …”
“I don’t feel good,” Ignis whispered, and then retched again. He didn’t even have the mind to turn to not hit himself with too much of the vomit. Cold sweat stuck to his temple, to his back.
“You’ll be fine,” Gladio said. Ignis didn’t know if he said it for his own sake or Ignis’ or for both of them. In this newly added layer of misery he leaned against Gladio when the next round of being sick was over, and allowed himself to be held. So much for this impulse to be there for Gladio when he had heard how upset he was. “I’m right here.”
They waited the nausea out, and then Gladio helped Ignis to the bathroom to clean him up. Usually Ignis would fight him and do it on his own, but the earlier ordeal had left him shaky and unsteady. He would probably just pass out in the bathroom. Gladio took his time, and by the end of it Ignis was cleaned up and also in a clean pair of sleep wear. From the room he heard shuffling and scrubbing.
“Did you call someone to clean up my mess?” Ignis asked quietly. He felt a little better now. The pain was again more present than the sour burn in his stomach.
“I texted Prompto,” Gladio said after only a brief hesitation.
“Oh.”
“Come, let’s get you back to bed.” Gladio helped Ignis get up from the closed lid of the toilet he had been sitting on, giving him time to adjust. “You good?”
“Barely, but it will work,” Ignis replied, and they headed back to the main room.
“I’m almost done!” said Prompto instead of a greeting. “Then you can lie back down, Iggy.”
“My sincerest apologies that you had to clean up after me.”
“Don’t sweat it. You’re sick.” Prompto was moving around the room. It sounded as if he were fluffing the pillows and the blanket. “You’ve cleaned up after me and Noct more times than I can count. Let me look out for you for a change.”
Ignis felt his remaining eye burn for another reason than the injury. “That is most appreciated. From … from both of you, Gladio, Prompto.”
Prompto cleared his throat. “The bed is ready. Should we call the doctor, too?”
Ignis tilted his head in thought. He wanted to say no, wanted to play it down. He was recovering, he had been magically injured. There was not much medicine could do besides numb the pain. “That would be good,” he said anyways. He heard Prompto take in a breath in surprise, while Gladio’s hand twitched on his shoulder. “Just … just to be safe,” Ignis added, feeling like he wanted to lessen the worry his willingness to see a doctor might wake in his friends. Or more like a doctor to see him. Ignis would never see anything again.
The weight of that realization had him stumble the last steps towards the bed. Gladio muttered a “Careful,” and Ignis waved it off, taking a deep breath.
“I’m all right.”
Prompto made a sound of disagreement, but remained otherwise quiet. Perhaps he and Gladio were exchanging a look or two. Ignis didn’t know. Instead of dwelling on it, he lay down. The bedding smelled fresh and clean in a way hotel sheets did, and it gave Ignis a sense of normalcy in everything that wasn’t normal anymore, didn’t feel normal anymore.
“I’ll go and get the doctor,” Gladio said. He might twitch to help Ignis get comfortable, but didn’t. “Prompto can stay with you while I’m gone.”
Ignis didn’t have it in him to argue. He was drained and tired and felt heavy from the weight of this new reality, of the difficulty of healing. His body didn’t feel like his own anymore. As if his mind and body were estranged.
The door closed behind Gladio and Prompto shuffled closer to the bed, pulling an arm chair along. “You can sleep, or I could read something to you, or just be quiet and mind my own business.”
“How’s Noct?” asked Ignis.
“Still the same,” Prompto replied. “He is not injured, though. Just exhausted.” Ignis knew all that, but hearing it again and again gave him something to hold on to. It calmed something inside of him. Usually he would be the one by Noctis’ bedside. He would be the one to watch over him. Yet again another part of him that was gone. At least in the form he knew it. In the form he knew himself. Had known, really.
“And how about you? How are you, Prompto?” Between his own injuries and pain and fears, Noctis being down for the count, and Ignis mostly sleeping or puking or wishing to be asleep, there hadn’t been much time to check in on his brothers. When even Gladio cried hidden in the shadows of the night, how was Prompto holding up?
“I’m not injured,” Prompto said. By the sounds of it he shifted in the armchair he sat on. “So I am okay.”
“You must be very worried. And you’re watching over Noct more than Gladio and I do. I am sorry we let you carry that much of a load we should all be sharing.”
“Are you serious, buddy? You almost died. You lost your sight. And you—” a harsh intake of breath before Prompto continued, “and you’re asking me how I am doing? You are fucking apologising that you can’t support me? We’re literally waiting for the doctor to come and see you which you didn’t even protest. For a change you need to worry about yourself, and let Gladio and me take care of the rest.” Prompto tried very hard to stifle the sounds of his crying, and yet Ignis picked up on it.
“Come here,” Ignis said, patting the mattress next to him.
“I’m gonna hurt you …”
“I assure you, you won’t. The worst burns are on my face, not my body.” There were only small spots of burnt flesh on his left arm and torso. At least compared to what his face felt like. “I suppose we both need some comfort. And I promise to not puke all over you.”
That earned him a snort from Prompto, and then the blonde moved. “You need to tell me if I hurt you any.”
“I will.”
Prompto lay down next to Ignis, grabbing one of Ignis’ hand to give them both something to hold on to, carefully resting his head against Ignis’ chest right above his heart. And then Prompto cried for real.
***
It was quite an embarrassment when the doctor and Gladio came in and Ignis had to recall what had happened. His stomach was still queasy, but true to his promise to Prompto he hadn’t thrown up again. It was even more embarrassing when the doctor assured him—and Prompto and Gladio with him since both of them refused to leave the room—, that the nausea was a reaction to the medication Ignis needed to take for now.
“I will prescribe you an anti nausea medication, and I highly recommend to properly eat before taking any of the pills,” the doctor said. Ignis heard him scribble something down on what he suspected was a notepad. “Your friends can easily get this for you at the nearby pharmacy. And since I am here I would like to have a look at your overall state as well.”
Ignis wasn’t in the mood to be prodded and poked at. For his liking that had been done way too much to him since that fateful day. “I can assure you I am quite all right. Headaches and nausea aside.”
“You will most likely experience the headaches for a while longer.” The doctor rummaged through the bag he must’ve brought. “Please sit up for me.”
Despite being prepared for being touched, Ignis stiffened when he felt a gloved hand on his cheek. “We just changed the dressings,” he tried to stop the doctor from pulling them off, but to no avail. Ignis drew in a shaky breath when the gauze pulled on his raw skin upon coming off. He grabbed the sheets tightly, tried to calm his breathing. He hated this so much. The pain that always lingered. The feeling of his flesh being raw and open when the air of the room nipped at it. He hissed when the doctor checked on the lid of his left eye. A hand closed around his own, and Ignis barely swallowed a whimper while entwining their fingers. It was Gladio’s hand. Ignis clung to it while the doctor worked, and when he was done, Ignis was done, too. Spent, tired, frustrated that this was his reality now.
“It all looks fine,” the doctor said while he wrapped everything back up, cremes and ointments and all. “Your friends take really good care of the wounds.” He only took a brief look at the smaller wounds and it was way less unpleasant than what Ignis had just endured. “I will take my leave, then. But do not hesitate to call for me if anything feels amiss.”
“I’ll see you out, doctor,” Prompto said. “I will check on Noct and then go and get your prescription, Iggy.”
“Most appreciated,” Ignis said, allowing Gladio to ease him into a lying position. He was sweaty all over again. “Thank you, Prompto.” The door closed with a soft click, and Ignis exhaled shakily. “You, too, Gladio. Thank you.”
Gladio took his hand again, gave it a squeeze. “I’ll get you some broth so you can take your meds and sleep.” When Gladio pulled away Ignis felt as if something else left him alongside Gladio. He vividly remembered the sounds of Gladio crying in the dark, hidden away from everyone. They all were going through so much.
“Thank you,” Ignis said, and yet another time the door fell close.
***
The mood grew ever more tense the longer Noctis remained unconscious to the point that Gladio snapped at Ignis or Prompto over the smallest things, and Prompto always sounded as if he were trying really hard not to cry. Usually Ignis would know what to say, what to do to help dispel the tension. Or some of it, anyways. In his current state, though, he felt utterly useless. A part of his identity was lost forever, and he had no idea on how to rebuild what was broken. Instead of dwelling on it too much, he decided that he had spent enough time in his own room. Gladio had talked him out of seeing Noctis multiple times, pointing out how Ignis was too weak, too blind. Ignis understood the concern somewhat. He had been weakened and sick and out of it for the most part, but it couldn’t continue on like that. Ignis couldn’t continue on like that. It was time he found something he could do. And that was getting dressed, and then getting to Noctis’ room a few doors down from the one he stayed in.
“There is an armchair you can sit in,” Prompto said when he lead Ignis into the room. “Next to the bed.”
Ignis fumbled for it, his new cane hitting the leg of the chair before his hand touched it. The cane had been Prompto’s doing, too. Ignis hadn’t yet thought much about how to navigate the world now, hadn’t had much capacities in all his misery. He needed to properly thank Prompto for his efforts. Maybe figure out a surprise for him, a present. Something to show the true depth of his appreciation for what the blonde had done for him in this ordeal while simultaneously worrying for his best friend. “Thank you.” Ignis sat and reached towards the bed. He found Noctis’ hair, felt the strands between his fingers. He heard him breathe as Prompto quietly shuffled out of the room to give Ignis a moment alone with Noctis.
“My apologies it took me so long to see you, Noct,” Ignis said softly. “But I assure you now I am back by your side. I will be here when you wake up.”