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“It’s freezing in here!” Prompto complains for the upteenth time. His voice bounces off the icy walls of the grotto, echoing around them.
Noct rolls his eyes, Gladio heaves a sigh, and Ignis pushes his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’ve only said it about a million times,” Gladio remarks.
“I’m afraid that’s what happens when you don’t wear a proper jacket,” Ignis tells him, eyeing Prompto’s vest and looking unamused.
Prompto tries a glare, but it probably loses its effect with the way his teeth are chattering loudly. Ignis is right though, as much as Prompto doesn’t want to admit it. He follows along behind them as they continue to make their way up a rather steep slope, rubbing his bare arms in a pitiful attempt at gaining some warmth. A particular violent shiver works its way through him and he stumbles on his next step.
That’s all it takes for his feet to shoot out from underneath him, body slamming onto the hard ground below with a solid thwack. The icy slope sends him immediately back down with a startled yelp, flailing as he slides to a stop at the bottom.
Laughter echoes through the cave, Gladio’s booming howls and Noct’s hysterical giggles. Even Ignis is chuckling. “Nice one!” Gladio teases.
Prompto would probably be laughing right along with them if he didn’t feel so miserable. If he thought he was cold before, it’s so much worse now that his clothes and exposed arms are wet from the ice. His arms are a bit scraped up, too. He’s shivering too hard to answer Gladio, so he just shakily climbs to his feet and starts making his way back up towards the group.
Ignis, despite the grin still tugging at his lips, at least has the decency to help him up the last few steps and ask, “Are you alright?”
Prompto gives a jerky nod. “Fine,” he manages through the chattering of his teeth.
“Here,” Gladio says, shrugging his jacket off. He’s still wearing a thick thermal shirt, as well as a t-shirt under that. They’re all well aware of the fact that their Shield is practically a walking furnace — something that they all take advantage of on cooler nights spent camping, huddling against him in a tangle of limbs in the tent.
When Gladio holds out the jacket towards him, Prompto feels like he could cry. Instead, he says, “Are you sure?”Gladio simply wraps the jacket around his shoulders in answer. It’s a little on the thinner side and doesn’t do as much as Prompto had hopes it would, but it’s still a bit warm from Gladio’s lingering body heat, so Prompto will take what he can get. “Thanks,” Prompto tells him earnestly. Gladio just nods and pats him on the shoulder.
“Don’t need you becoming a Prom-sicle, huh?” he says, grinning crookedly.
There’s a huff of laughter from all of them, and then their brief interlude is over and they continue on. They’re searching for the most recent Royal Tomb they’ve come across hints of. Prompto would like nothing more than to just leave and curl up near the fire with a pile of blankets, or make the trip to a motel — he’d take a caravan, even — for a nice, hot shower, and then burrow into bed with his comfiest pajamas. They’ve been exploring the caves for what feels like a long time now, so they must be close to the end, he reasons. He could hold out until then. He just hopes there’s actually a tomb at the end so this whole trip would be worth something.
Prompto’s content to just trail along behind his friends for the rest of their search. A persistent chill has worked its way under his skin, and he can’t get warm no matter how much he bundles Gladio’s jacket up around him. The longer they walk, the further he lags behind, feeling cold and sluggish and like he might never be warm again. They eventually reach the end — and find the Royal Tomb for their troubles, thank the astrals — so it won’t be long now. All Noct has to do is collect the Arm waiting for him and then they’ll be on their way, and then Prompto can huddle up by the fire at camp. His entire body aches from how tense he is and how violently he’s been shivering. He can’t wait to get out of these stupid caves.
When they’re about halfway through their return-trip, Prompto feels his shivering start to cease. Gladio’s jacket must be helping after all, he thinks. He feels a bit warmer, too. There’s still a heavy fog clouding his brain, and the warmth seeping into him isn’t helping much to disperse it. He focuses simply on putting one foot in front of the other, following the others and avoiding any dangerous patches of ice.
Eventually they hear the sound of rushing water, growing louder and louder the closer they get to the cave’s entrance. Prompto stumbles out last, waterfall roaring loudly in his ears and scattering his already scrambled thoughts. The haven’s just down the hill and around the corner, he remembers through the haze, so he just has to make it that short distance before he can finally sit down and maybe take a nap.
He’s glad they’d had the foresight to set up camp before their little expedition, because he’s too exhausted to do anything other than immediately collapse into one of the camp chairs. His eyes are half lidded as he watches Gladio start a fire and then wander off once the flames are stoked and rising. Noct’s over with Ignis by the camp stove, pestering him about dinner, and the familiar intonations of their voices puts Prompto at ease as his eyes droop even more.
As the fire burns higher and Prompto feels the heat coming from it, he starts to rethink his idea of curling up next to it. He already feels a bit warm. Instead, he pulls his chair a little further away so it’s not so hot, strips off Gladio’s jacket for good measure, then plops down to rest.
His head feels heavy, stuffed with cotton, and it’s easy to just let his eyes closed so that sleep overtakes him.
Gladio grunts as he steps back up onto the haven after his quick bathroom break. He’s still a bit stiff and chilled after those icy caves, and giving up his jacket for Prompto had done him no favors. But his friend had clearly needed it more, and Gladio ran hot enough that it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world.
He spots Ignis prepping food over near the stove, Noct practically glued to his side, complaining about something or another. Prompto’s in one of the chairs, resting — but he’s sitting a bit further away than Gladio might’ve expected, given how badly he’d been shivering. He’d definitely been closer when Gladio had started up the fire, so he must’ve moved his chair back, which doesn’t make any sense. He’d even abandoned the jacket Gladio had lent him. He’s slumped in his chair, head down to rest his chin on his chest, and he looks incredibly pale. “Prompto?” Gladio calls, dread starting to creep its way into his chest. “Thought you were cold?”
No response. Gladio frowns and steps closer. “Prompto?” He reaches out to brush his fingers against Prompto’s ghostly-white cheek. It’s like touching a block of ice, and Gladio yanks his hand away at the shock of it. But Prompto still doesn’t respond, and he’s breathing slow and shallow, chest barely moving, and he’s not shivering at all anymore despite how cold he clearly is. It takes all of two seconds for the realization to hit.
“Shit,” he curses loudly, and the urgency in his tone must gain the attention of the other two, as they turn around to see what’s happening. Gladio crouches down and pats Prompto’s cheek, gentle at first but then a touch rougher when that doesn’t do the trick. “Prompto, hey,” he says loudly. “You gotta wake up, Prom.”
“Prompto? What happened?” Noct demands immediately, worry clear in his tone. He and Ignis are hovering to the side.
“He’s hypothermic,” Gladio tells them, just as Prompto starts to stir. “Hey, buddy, how’re you feeling?”
Prompto squints at him, confused, then weakly raises his head to glance at both Ignis and Noct, as if he’s not sure why all three of his friends are suddenly crowding around him and looking worried out of their minds. “Tired,” he mumbles eventually, eyes drooping once more.
“Hey, hey,” Gladio says, and pats his cheek again. “Try and stay awake for us, okay? We’re gonna get you warmed up.”
Prompto frowns at him. “‘M not cold,” he says.
“Yeah, you are,” Gladio tells him. “You’re hypothermic, Prompto. Okay?” Prompto just stares at him, like he’s trying to make sense of everything that’s going on. He looks once more to Noct and Ignis, like they’ll have a better explanation than Gladio’s already giving him.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be alright,” Ignis promises, reaching out to rub a comforting hand along Prompto’s freezing bicep. His fingers brush against Prompto’s wet sleeve. “His clothes are still damp.”
Noct is hovering anxiously. “What should I do?” he asks, watching as Gladio bends down to start unlacing Prompto’s boots.
“Go get all the sleeping bags and blankets blankets you can find, and a pair of warm pants and socks for Prompto,” Ignis tells him, and Noct nods and hurries off towards the tent.
“What’re you doin’?” Prompto slurs as Ignis starts unzipping his vest and pulling it off of him.
“We have to get your wet clothes off,” Ignis explains patiently, discarding the vest on a nearby chair and starting to peel Prompto’s tank top off. They could lay his clothes out to dry later.
“Oh,” Prompto says. Ignis helps meanuever Prompto enough so that Gladio can slip his jeans off, and Noct returns a moment later with a pair of flannel pajama pants and two pairs of socks. While Ignis and Gladio are working to get Prompto redressed, Ignis instructs Noct on how to lay out the blankets beside the fire — two sleeping bags spread open on top of each other to protect Prompto from the cold stone of the haven, and the rest to the side to pile atop him once they get him settled.
Gladio easily scoops Prompto into his arms and Prompto protests weakly at the action. Gladio can feel how cold he is even through his double layer of shirts as he carefully deposits him among the nest of blankets Noct’s created beside the fire. Gladio quickly shucks off his own shirt and undershirt and sits down next to Prompto.
Noct’s old injuries tend to flare up in the cold, so his back and knee are probably already aching after today's events. Having him pressed up against a freezing Prompto won’t be doing him any good and might make things worse for him. So Gladio says, “Iggy, you too.”
Ignis nods, already unbuttoning his shirt. “Noct, could you get some broth ready to warm up for Prompto when he’s feeling up to it?”
“Yeah, of course,” Noct says.
Ignis joins the other two on the sleeping bags. Together, he and Gladio lay down and arrange Prompto in between them, chest-to-chest with Ignis with Gladio spooning him from behind. Pressing their bare chests to Prompto’s frozen skin is almost painful and they start shivering almost immediately. Noct helps to carefully tuck them all in before retreating back to the stove to see what he could do about the broth.
“Too hot,” Prompto slurs, squirming feebly in between them.
“Sorry, Prom,” Gladio says, sandwiching Prompto a bit more between them.
Ignis tucks Prompto’s head under his chin, shuddering when Prompto’s icy nose brushes against the sensitive skin of his neck. “I know you feel hot,” Ignis starts, “but you’re actually very cold. We’re trying to warm you up.”
“Oh. S’rry,” Prompto mumbles, almost inaudible against Ignis’ collarbone. He still sounds confused, like he’s not totally comprehending the situation.
“It’s alright,” Gladio tells him, rubbing Prompto’s bicep to try and create some warmth. “Just try to relax. You’ll be alright.”
Prompto goes quiet after that. Noct wanders back over after a few minutes, fussing with the blankets and making sure the fire is still burning strong. “How didn’t we notice?” he asks, sounding upset.
Ignis huffs out a sigh. “I don’t know,” he says, because he doesn’t — it’s his job to notice. The fact that he hadn’t seen Prompto’s declining state is eating him up inside. It was so obvious — the cold temperatures, his lack of proper clothing, him getting wet from slipping down the ice — of course hypothermia would be a serious concern. Prompto had been complaining of the cold the entire time; when he’d gone quiet, Ignis should have known that that meant something was wrong. He feels like he’s failed Prompto miserably.
“Hey,” Gladio says, and Ignis snaps from his thoughts and meets his eyes over the tufts of blond hair between them. “You’re no worse off than the rest of us. None of us noticed. Don’t go blamin’ yourself like you always do.”
Ignis frowns, but before he can say anything Noct chimes, “Yeah, Specs, it’s all our faults.”
“He’ll pull through. We’re doing all we can right now,” Gladio says.
“You’re right,” Ignis agrees after a moment of consideration. “We’ll just have to be more careful and aware in the future, I suppose.”
The camp descended into silence for a long time. Prompto is still besides the slow expanding of his chest as he breathes. Ignis focus on the soft puffs of breath ghosting his collarbone, waiting for any kind of change. When the first tremble finally makes its way through Prompto’s body, Ignis startles from the quiet state he’d settled into. Gladio sends a relieved grin his way.
“He’s shivering,” Gladio tells Noct, who’d curled up in one of chairs in front of the fire, ready to jump up if anyone needed anything.
“Great,” he says, smiling widely. The tension he’d been carrying drains out of him at the good news.
It’s not long after Prompto starts shivering again that he wakes up. He squirms between them before glancing up to meet Ignis’ eyes. Ignis is pleased to note that Prompto’s look brighter and more lucid.
“Hi,” Prompto croaks.
“Hello,” Ignis replies, squeezing his arms where they’d been wrapped around Prompto.
“How’re you feelin’, blondie?” Gladio asks over Prompto’s shoulder.
Prompto shudders. “Cold. Tired,” he says.
“That’s good,” Gladio tells him. “Means you’re past the worst of it.”
“Think you can manage some broth?” Ignis inquires. When Prompto nods, Noct hops from his chair and beelines for the stove, getting to work on warming everything up as quickly as possible.
While the broth is heating up, Noct ducks into the tent at Ignis’ request to retrieve more clothes for Prompto. He emerges with a long sleeved shirt and two of Gladio’s hoodies. They help sit Prompto up and he tries to put the shirt and one of the hoodies on by himself, but he’s still clumsy and uncoordinated, so Ignis and Gladio wordlessly help him slip everything on. Gladio snags the other hoodie for himself and Ignis finds his own shirt.
They reposition while Noct starts plating up the broth. Ignis gets up and Prompto’s settled in between Gladio’s legs, reclining back against his chest so they can both sit up, blankets piled atop their laps. Noct gets a sleepy, grateful smile when he delivers the broth and Prompto tucks into it eagerly, only just now realizing how hungry he actually is.
With the warm broth and blankets and heat from the fire, Prompto finally feels his shivering start to subside. But sitting there, propped against Gladio as Ignis and Noct sit beside them, he feels a different kind of warmth spreading through him, and he smiles.