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When Ignis awoke he could immediately tell something was off.
…he just couldn’t tell what.
Well, for one, he woke up lying on the sandy ground in Longwythe, the peak arching high above him and the mid-day sun blazing down. He gathered himself up gently, gradually testing each of his limbs and neck for any major injuries. The fading shivers and shakes of an electric shock were filtering through his body, but the worst was certainly over. Everything else seemed in its right place, though; he had nothing to worry about past the regular aches of battle.
The fading shocks brought back memories of battling thunderocs, but such small birds weren’t any trouble for the four of them, now. What exactly had they been hunting again?
Finally standing, his back to the peak, he found Gladio and Prompto in the sand before him. Gladio was sitting up, still looking a little numb with a dazed stare painting his face, while Prompto lie flat out face down in the sand. Ignis pulled a face, gingerly moving towards the younger man. If Prompto woke up with a mouthful of sand they wouldn’t hear the end of it for weeks.
“What happened…?” Gladio mumbled, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. Ignis crouched, pulling Prompto up out of the sand and beginning to swipe away the grains plastered to half of his face.
“I’m not sure, I was going to ask if you remembered anything, actually. We were…hunting, I believe?”
Gladio only hummed in response, allowing his posture to slump even though he knew better. Hunting in Longwythe? It didn’t make any sense; the monsters in the area were generally weak, so it wouldn’t have done them much good. All the monsters except maybe the red giants that appeared at night, or the…
“Cactuars!” Gladio exclaimed, slapping a fist into his other palm, “We were hunting cactuars.”
“Noo!! No more cactuars!” Prompto, having regained consciousness, shouted and flailed his arms at Ignis’ helping hands. It caught the older man by surprise, and he let Prompto flop unceremoniously back into the sand. “So many cactuars…!” He mumbled once more, voice fading.
With the fog in his brain beginning to clear, Gladio sighed and helped himself up to stand, “C’mon Mr. Chocobo Butt. We’ve got better things to do then listen to you whine,” He stood over Prompto, offering the younger man his hand. Reluctantly, Prompto took it. “Up you go!”
Gladio pulled the blonde up onto his feet in one swift motion, but graciously caught him when he stumbled. Prompto collided with the larger man’s chest quite dramatically, letting his head rest on Gladio’s pecs as he descended into giggles. Who could blame him? They were quite comfortable.
“Yes, more important things to do like finding Noctis,” Ignis said, ignoring the two behind him. Just as Gladio said, the bodies of three cactuar—technically gigantuar, Ignis corrected himself—lie motionless in the sand a few yards from them. Not the nicest thing to wake up to, but at least cactuar didn’t bleed or smell particularly bad after they were killed. And, at least they had managed to defeat the beasts…somehow.
This wasn’t adding up.
He expanded his field of search a few more yards, finding that the sand and small shrubbery around them definitely showed signs of a struggle. A few patches of sand were even singed and littered with rough little stones—the ones that formed after a good lightning spell struck the sand.
Signs of a struggle, dead cactuars and evidence of magic all pointed to Noctis, but where was the prince himself?
Then he found something that made him pause.
“Gladio, come have a look at this,” Ignis beckoned, not looking away from the new disturbance in the sand. The man in question had been holding Prompto in a weak choke hold, purposefully messing up the blonde’s hair, but genuinely trying to help him shake the sand out of it. He released Prompto with a playful shove and turned towards Ignis, but then his smile and jovial air dropped immediately. Prompto was quick to notice the stark change in Gladio’s demeanor, dropping his smile and imitating the man’s concern as he moved to see what Ignis was inspecting.
So many thoughts raced across Gladio’s mind as he stood there, staring down at patches of dried blood in the sand, but one gradually bubbled up to the surface.
“Ignis, cactuars don’t bleed.”
Ignis said nothing, glancing at him from his side. It wasn’t often the adviser was shocked to speechlessness. He hoped that Ignis was mentally preparing himself for where this trail of blood was most likely about to lead, because he was desperately trying to do the same thing for himself.
“Where does it go?” Prompto asked, popping up in between them. All together, they raked their eyes across the landscape to follow the path of heavily displaced sand and patches of blood. It all led, in the distance, to a small black figure in the sand, desperately crawling towards the shade that Longwythe Peak was beginning to throw over the desert.
“Noct!!” Prompto was off in a flash, Gladio and Ignis hot on his heels. The blonde continued to shout his prince’s name as he got closer, but Noctis did not turn to acknowledge him.
Finally catching up, Ignis and Prompto found the prince a disheveled mess crawling in the sand. Ignis wasted no time in moving closer, crouching down next to him to place a hand on his back.
“Noctis, please, you’re hurt—”
“Get away from me!”
Had Ignis not had years of crownsguard training he likely would have been without a head right about now. He stood, frozen in shock as Noctis haphazardly swiped a dagger towards him. Gladio caught up with them just in time to see the flash of steel swipe dangerously close to Ignis.
“Are you alright? Is he alright?”
“I’m fine,” Ignis said, choosing not to answer the second question. From beside Ignis, Prompto tried his luck instead.
“Hey, buddy, you’ve got to calm down. We’re just here to help you, yeah?” The blonde crouched, extending a hand. Noctis hesitated, studying his lover’s face—it wasn’t him it wasn’t Prom it’s not the real him—for a moment before he weakly kicked away the hand offered to him. Prompto moved out of range easily, but almost lunged forward again when Noctis collapsed into the sand, writhing in pain as he clutched as his leg. The fabric around the outside of his thigh was damp and sticky with blood.
Luckily, Ignis caught Prompto by the chest, “Wait, Prompto. He’s obviously…a bit touched. It’s probably the heat and the injuries. We must be gentle,” Ignis whispered, hoping Noctis couldn’t hear his words over his attention to his own injuries.
“Noct,” he said, mustering up the most soft and caring tone he could find within himself, “It looked like you were fighting those cactuars alone. We’re sorry we weren’t able to help you. Are you sure you didn’t get hit with a confusion spell in the midst?”
The three watched in hopeful silence as a myriad of emotions swept across Noctis’ face, finally settling somewhere between raging anger and heartbroken sorrow.
“God dammit!” He shouted, stabbing his dagger into the sand to continue pulling himself forward in a pitiful attempt to crawl further away from his lovers—it’s not them it can’t be them. Gladio noticed that he was favoring his right arm, his left cradled protectively against his side.
“Is this your idea of a joke!?” Noctis screamed, but at no one in particular. Gladio, Ignis and Prompto watched in horror as their prince continued to spiral into delusion, “Ardyn, I swear on every star in the sky, if you’re behind this!” His slow crawl continued for a few more moments, until he misjudged a grab and ended up falling awkwardly onto his bad side. The pain overwhelmed him as he gasped and moaned, rolling onto his good side and finally lying still.
Prompto had Ignis’ hand in a vice grip. His lover, his best friend, was splayed out on the desert ground, bleeding and hysteric, and his other two partners expected him to stand by and do nothing. The blonde’s obvious anxiety spurred Gladio into motion. He rounded the collapsed prince, hoping that giving him space and making him aware of his presence would predispose him to calmness.
When Gladio crouched down close he found that Noctis had closed his eyes and silent tears were trickling down the side of his face. He placed a hand on Noctis’ forehead, keeping very still, and then continued on, running the hand back through the prince’s hair when he didn’t receive a negative reaction. Slow and steady was the name of the game, it seemed, as Gladio’s comforting hand served the dual purpose of calming Noctis and checking for major head injuries.
Except he never get far enough to really be sure.
Noctis had cracked his eyes open at the familiar weight, only to be spooked again when he found Gladio towering over him.
“I told you not to touch me!” Noctis’ voice cracked as he shoved at Gladio’s chest, pushing himself to stand on quaking legs. Gladio did not resist, but he did spot the awkward bump on Noctis’ wrist. Definitely a fracture. Limping towards the rock and collapsing against its support, Noctis let his body go limp and slid once more down into the sand. He shifted, propping himself up as best he could to face the other three. When he saw that they had moved towards him yet again, he made the mistake of allowing a broken sob to escape his lips.
He couldn’t take this anymore. The concern and care and love on their faces looked so real, and every second that he stared at them was one more he was reminded of all that had been taken from him. He couldn’t stand to lose them, too.
“P-please stop,” he choked out between sobs, tears mixing with sweat and sand as they poured down his face, “Please don’t hurt me anymore.” He shook his head, curling in on himself as he raised his arms to meekly shield his face. The change in position revealed new cuts and scrapes that the other three couldn’t see before. His shirt on his side, like the fabric around his thigh, was soaked in blood.
Prompto was beside himself in anguish, inching closer and closer to Noctis as he curled further and further in on himself. But the prince seemed like a fire; if he touched him, would it not only earn them another outburst? But they couldn’t just leave him there! Alone! He never wanted Noctis to feel alone!
“Prom, if you’ll give me…just a moment.” Ignis hesitated, even his strong resolve beginning to crack. Beside him, Prompto could only see disappointment marring Gladio’s expression. Forcing oneself to sit back and watch a loved one fall apart…it was pure agony. But Ignis steeled himself, took a deep breath and thought of Noctis, who was likely in much more agony than he was. He swallowed, his mouth and throat dry and scratchy from the dust. He hoped his rendition would be good enough for the prince.
It would certainly never be as good as the late queen’s.
He started out soft, almost humming only to himself just to make sure he could recall the entire melody, but soon grew louder. He had to make sure Noctis could hear him, hear the love he could only convey to him through this song. The melody swelled, though never too much, because Ignis knew that just one human voice would never truly convey all the emotion in the song.
He kept his gaze locked on Noctis all the while. And sure enough, when the prince began to recognize the familiar notes, he lowered his arms. The fear and hesitation in his face melted away, and Ignis suspected that the tears took on a different meaning, then.
It was Noctis, this time, who offered Ignis an outstretched hand. Ignis took it in his with care, not squeezing too hard for fear of hurting him more, and moved in closer to the injured prince. He slipped a hand onto the small of Noctis’ back, then, supporting him as he nudged the prince into sitting up. As he finished the last verse of the song he released Noctis’ hand, forgoing the embrace to retrieve a handkerchief from the inside of his jacket.
Finally, Noctis gave in, collapsing into Ignis’ weight while also desperately trying to cling to any part of the other man he could get his good hand on.
“You’re alright, you’re alright…” Ignis murmured, wiping away as much of the tears and sweat soaking Noctis’ face as he could. He mirrored Gladio’s earlier attempt to feel for head wounds, gently running his fingers through Noctis’ dark hair and down his neck. Aside from a bump or two, thankfully nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “Noct, can you tell me where it hurts?” He tried to keep his voice calm and level, despite the tremors running through his body. Realistically, he knew Noctis would pull through somehow, but he couldn’t shake the haunting thought that the prince wasn’t going to make it.
Gladio and Prompto were quick to move closer, the prince’s shield immediately setting to work on Noctis’ obvious injuries. He had trained and studied survival techniques for years just for this purpose. He sat down near Noct’s feet and took off the tank top he was wearing, for once wishing he had worn more clothing in this godforsaken desert. The first strip he tore out of the shirt went around Noct’s leg, beginning to stem the flow of blood coming from…whatever injury was afflicting his thigh. Gladio realized he hadn’t even waited for Noctis to tell them.
“Well, urgh, my wrist and my leg…my side, too. Really bad. ‘nd I’m starting to get a headache…” he trailed off, pressing his face into Ignis’ stomach the best he could.
“What happened to your leg, Noct? Do you remember?” Gladio urged gently. He beckoned Prompto over, instructing the blonde to sit with the prince’s feet in his lap. Elevate the legs, keep the bloodflow away from his thigh, and help prevent shock all at the same time.
Noctis kept his face pressed into Ignis’ side, but the tension that flooded his body was easy to spot. “It…it’s a bullet wound.”
Gladio nodded, taking it all in stride, but Prompto and Ignis had not fared as well. Prompto slapped a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the gasp that had escaped his lips. Calm down, calm down, he wasn’t the only one in the world that wielded a gun, not by a long shot.
“You still have those bandages, Ignis?” Gladio asked, crawling around behind the adviser to get closer to Noctis’ bad wrist. Ignis handed over a small roll and the larger man set to work wrapping the dressings snug around his prince’s wrist, making sure to stop every few inches and ask if it felt fine or if it was cutting off circulation.
It was upon lifting Noctis’ shirt and seeing the slash wound decorating his side that Prompto gave in.
“Guys, we need to take him to a hospital,” Prompto’s voice faltered as he shook his head, afraid to even imagine how many more injuries lay under Noctis’ clothes. The gash was a clean cut running from just under Noctis’ ribs all the way down to his hip, and the bruises peeking out from further up the prince’s chest did not help the situation. Prompto was no medical or survival expert, but it looked like a broken rib to him.
Ignis glanced over Prompto—tears in his eyes, ready to spill over, chest heaving with short, stuttering breaths—then Noctis—trembling, his grip weakening in Ignis’ hand, and growing steadily less responsive—and finally caved. He and Gladio were the prince’s first line of care and defense, but even they could not do everything. It was growing increasingly obvious that Noctis needed much more care than they could offer.
He looked to Gladio just in case the other man had any objections, but none came. Prompto was right; as much as they loved and prided themselves in taking care of all of the prince’s needs, not seeking professional help when they needed it was tantamount to neglect.
“Let’s go.”
----
Ignis wound up riding ahead on his chocobo to retrieve the Regalia from the Longwythe rest area, while Gladio and Prompto slowly moved Noctis to the closest road. The good news was that Noctis’ condition wasn’t getting any worse, at least not yet, but the bad news was that the only hospital likely equipped to handle his injuries was in Lestallum. Which was three hours away by car.
All they could do was drive as fast as possible and give Noctis some painkillers, and Ignis wasn’t exactly sure either of those were great ideas.
Pulling into Lestallum two and a half hours later, he reconsidered. Driving fast: good idea. Painkillers: bad idea. They simply hadn’t worked. Gladio had given him the amount of pills the bottle recommended plus an extra, but regardless Noctis could not find a comfortable position in the car. He ended up splayed out on the backseat of the Regalia, head in Gladio’s lap as Gladio tried his hardest to distract him from the pain. At least they had some extra bandages stored in the car, which ended up wrapped around Noctis’ hips as they attempted to stem the flow of blood from the gash on his side.
Noctis refused to speak through it all, despite Gladio, Ignis and Prompto’s questions about who had hurt him or what had happened. Ignis willed them all to give up after a time, the repeatedly unanswered questions beginning to wear on his patience. It was difficult enough driving, knowing that a matter of minutes could mean life or death for Noctis.
In the emergency room Noctis was whisked away almost immediately. Ignis took the clipboard the receptionist offered him, filling in as much of Noctis’ information as he could. In his frazzled state of mind he wrote the prince’s full name into the designated field. Gladio, glancing at the sheet from the side, gave him a look, but Ignis waved him off. Hospitals were bound to patient confidentiality, anyway; at least they were in Insomnia. He hoped Lestallum would be the same.
After turning in the information, they were informed that it would likely be three to five hours before the emergency team was finished with their friend.
“I think it would be in your best interest to get out of here for a little while,” the receptionist told them, his voice calm and practiced like he’d said this a hundred times, “When you know you’ve got a long wait time, hanging around here in agony isn’t going to do you any good. You could even come back in the morning, if you like.”
Gladio hastily denied the idea, but thanked the man for the suggestion anyway. A meal and some fresh air would do them some good.
Finally settled at a corner table of a busy restaurant in the main square, Gladio sighed heavily.
“Guys…I need to get something off my chest,” he said, hands gripped tight in front of him as they waited for their meal, “I think I might have a guess as to who hurt Noct.”
Ignis steeled his expression, and Gladio knew that the other man had likely already thought this over. Prompto’s eyes widened, though, and he continued, unapologetic.
“We had a lot of time in the car, and after I collected my thoughts, I think I remember a little more about the hunt. Before I blacked out, I remember seeing Ignis get hit by what I think was a confusion effect from one of the cactuars,” he explained, and did not miss Ignis tensing across from him at the mention of his name.
“I don’t know about you and me, Prom, but there was no other evidence of other enemies on that battlefield. It was us and the cactuars; no MTs, no other beasts, it was day, so there were no demons. And the wounds Noctis had weren’t the kind that cactuars inflict.”
Prompto felt that same sinking feeling that crept up on him back in Longwythe. He knew where Gladio was going with this. He was the only one in the battle with a gun, after all. “You think we hurt him,” Prompto said bluntly.
They all paused for a second, the nasty confession hanging in the air between them, before Gladio confirmed it.
“Yeah, I do. And we’re going to have to live with it, was the point that I wanted to make.”
“Yeah…” Prompto had nothing more to say, staring at the ground as he scuffed his boot against the pavement. There was no way of really knowing, until they could ask Noctis himself.
They ate mostly in silence, then made their way back to the hospital waiting room. Ignis could only hope that the Astrals smiled upon their chosen King today, and that their wait would be on the shorter side.
But four hours passed, during which Prompto got up five separate times to pace outside the hospital.
“Hey Iggy?” Prompto asked at some point, voice barely above a whisper as to not attract attention, “What was that song you hummed to Noct earlier? The one that snapped him out of…whatever that was.” He shuddered at the memory, pushing it to the back of his mind.
“Oh, that?” Ignis felt the melody coming back to him, playing on repeat in his mind, “It was a song composed for the celebration of Noctis’ birth. The late queen took a liking to it and ended up humming it to him often as a lullaby. I learned it much later, after she passed away. It’s a memory that he keeps very close to his heart, so I knew my humming it would prove that we were not there to harm him.”
“Wow, I had no idea! How special,” Prompto couldn’t help but crack a small smile. He had always been a sucker for such romantic ideas, “I hope we’ll get the chance to hear it again sometime,” he said, rocking back and forth in his chair. The wait must have been killing him, Ignis realized, not to mention the sitting still. Ignis hoped, for Prompto’s sake, they wouldn’t be forced to wait long.
Finally, finally they were informed that Noctis had been moved to a private room to rest—Ignis suspected the doctors may have gotten word of his identity—and his three visitors could see him. The nurse led them up to Noctis’ room in a quiet wing, then went over a list of Noctis’ injuries with them.
“His left wrist sustained a minor fracture and mild bruising on his forearm and hand; he’ll wear the brace that you see on him until it’s mended, after which he can switch to wearing something that allows for some more mobility. A bullet grazed his left thigh, and he had a shallow gash running from his right hip bone up to just under his ribs. We haven’t had any complications with these as of yet; the gash is stitched closed and both wounds should recover fine with proper care,” Prompto let himself relax a little. He hadn’t known what to expect, but so far it didn’t seem too bad—if the nurse wasn’t worried, he shouldn’t be either, right?
She turned to a new page, and continued, “One of the ribs on his right side sustained a fracture, but it was not completely broken, which is what we like to see. The other ribs around that area are heavily bruised, but really all we can do is manage the pain and limit his mobility; the rib will heal on its own in time. We’l prescribe him some pain medication tomorrow, when the medicines from the treatment wear off. We also suspect he has a minor concussion, along with other minor scrapes and bruises, but these will all heal on their own as long as we keep a close eye on him. Try to keep the room calm and quiet, and avoid opening the blinds during the day; he might be sensitive to light and loud sounds.”
Ignis nodded, listening intently, and bowed in respect when she finished. “Thank you very much, ma’am. We’ll follow your instruction to the letter.” He suspected that the nurse—and the rest of the staff, likely—didn’t like the idea of three visitors in one room, but tonight they would just have to manage. He knew there was no convincing any of the three of them to leave.
“He’s just about recovered from the sedative,” the nurse said with a small smile, “Give him a few more minutes and he should be aware and talking. If he’s not recovered within twenty minutes or so, call one of us.”
“A sedative?” Prompto looked to the nurse, questioning. He didn’t like the sound of that.
“He was…very distressed then he was separated from the three of you. The sedative calmed him down so we could set his wrist and stitch up his side, plus it helps with pain.” Gladio turned away then, gazing down on his prince to make his own judgment of how he was faring.
He certainly looked better than he did four hours ago, Gladio decided. Little gauze pads covered the scrapes and cuts on his face and arms and a sturdy looking brace enveloped his left forearm and wrist. No cast, which Gladio took as a good sign. His other wrist sported an IV, but a quick glance at the bag’s label revealed it was only for hydration, not medication. Moving around the bed, he gently pulled back the blanket covering Noctis’ lower half. Thick gauze wrapped most of his thigh.
“Do you mind if I ask how bad the bullet wound was?” The nurse shook her head.
“He was very, very lucky. The bullet only grazed the outside of his leg; had it gone into the larger part of his thigh,” the nurse pointed out the location on her own thigh, poking a finger into her scrubs, “it could have hit a major artery or shattered bone. He could have easily bled to death or would have taken months, maybe even a year to recover.”
Prompto bit his lip and shifted his weight to his other leg, trying not to look too conspicuous. The hospital staff had treated them well so far, he couldn’t give away that the people who had nearly killed their patient were standing in the room with him.
Gladio snapped his mouth shut when he realized it was hanging open, trying to push past how the nurse had used ‘bled to death’ in reference to his prince who he was supposed to protect. He thanked her with a curt nod and, after a few more moments of silence, she dismissed herself.
It was only when she bade them goodnight that Ignis realized it was almost midnight. The door shut, and the three finally turned to focus solely on Noctis. Or, atleast Gladio and Ignis did. Once the nurse’s footsteps faded away Prompto stumbled back to rest against a wall.
“Oh my god, you guys,” he whined, voice cracking as he squatted down, hands gripping the sides of his head, “I-w-we! I…I almost killed him. I almost killed Noct. What would I do…I couldn’t…I couldn’t…” He shook his head, desperately trying to shove the idea of Noctis’ death out of his head. His shoulders trembled as he tried to repress his sobs.
“Prompto, it’s not your fault. It’s not any of our faults,” Ignis tried to comfort him, “We couldn’t help…” Ignis’ voice petering out caught Gladio’s attention, the shield looking up to find Ignis wiping tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he gasped out, his shoulders, too, beginning to shake, “It’s so unlike me. I-I’m just…I feel I’ve failed him.” It felt good, in some odd way, to admit. But the weight off his shoulders did not help the pain in his chest.
“Hey, come on now guys,” Gladio said, striding over to the two of them, “I know we all feel guilty, because I feel it, too, but we need to be strong for Noctis right now. He must’ve been scared, alone in the ER, so we need to do our jobs and make him feel comfortable and calm, yeah?”
The other two men nodded, wiping away the tears from their eyes as best they could. Gladio pulled Ignis in for a one-armed hug and Prompto stood to fit snugly into his other side, a teary, but small smile on his face. Just as they were moving away from each other, a quiet gasp caught their attention.
“ ‘ladio?” Noctis rasped, his throat dry and scratchy. The man was at his side right away, uncapping a bottle of water and helping him take slow sips.
“Hey, beautiful,” Gladio greeted him, not caring how stupidly sappy it sounded. He knew it would always get a smile out of the prince. This time was no different.
“St’p that…” he mumbled, lips quirking up as he swatted in Gladio’s direction with his good hand. Gladio caught his hand instead of letting it fall, grasping it between his.
“How are you feeling?”
Noctis paused for a few moments, trying to assess his whole body, “Uh, tired, but…okay. For now, I guess,” the fog of the anesthesia was making thinking and speaking difficult. One thought jumped to the forefront of his mind, though, “I’m glad you guys are here.”
“We wouldn’t be anywhere else, buddy,” Prompto said, slowly stepping up just behind Gladio. He took the prince’s hand from Gladio’s grip, and then couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and pressing a kiss to Noctis’ lips. He felt Noctis smile into it and press back with all the energy he had. When they separated the goofy grin still graced Noctis’ lips.
“Well?” The prince asked, expectant, “Don’t I get a greeting kiss from you two?”
The other two men laughed, glad to see that even injured, Noctis still retained some of his flippant attitude. Gadio leaned in first, kissing his lips and then trailing down his neck briefly before pulling away. Ignis swept in after that, running a hand over Noctis’ cheek and then cupping the back of his head as he pressed his lips to the prince’s. After pulling away, though, his smile faded.
“I’m sorry to sour such a nice moment,” he began, bringing over a chair to sit opposite of Gladio, “But I-We have a question that we must know the answer to, Noct.” Prompto pulled over the one larger armchair that sat in the room, motioning for Gladio to sit, and then sat in the larger man’s lap. Gladio intertwined his fingers with the blonde’s, then. It was obvious Prompto wanted some support for this conversation.
“Sure, Iggy. What is it?”
“Can you tell us who,” Ignis hesitated, they likely already knew that, “Or how you were hurt today?”
Noctis hummed in response, staring down at his lap for a moment to gather an answer. No skirting the truth, he guessed.
“It was…you guys. That hurt me.”
Ignis nodded. “Just as we thought.”
“I’m so sorry, Noct.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t protect you,” Gladio said, voice gruff as he lowered his head.
“No, it’s alright. Well…” he hesitated, twisting his fingers together, “It’s not alright, I was terrified, but I knew that…that wasn’t the real you guys. I kept telling myself that you would never mean to hurt me like this.” Noctis tried his best to sound resolute. He hoped it was working.
The four sat in silence for a while after that, basking in their own thoughts, before Ignis spoke up again.
“Do you think you could tell us? What happened, I mean. If it’s not too difficult for you.”
“You can stop anytime,” Gladio reassured, Prompto nodding eagerly beside him.
“Yeah, no, it’s cool,” the prince sighed, running his good hand through his hair and down his neck. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to find all the words or recount the whole story without having to stop, but no time like the present, right?
“Right, okay, so,” he took one last big breath, feeling the ache in his ribs, “we were hunting the cactuars. Three of them, and we thought they wouldn’t be a big deal. I didn’t think their attacks would cover such a wide range. I was at a distance, trying to warp-strike one, when the confusion hit Ignis first.”
Ignis’ frown deepened, his eyes full of sorrow and apologies as Noctis looked to him, “You were holding the only remedies we had, so I tried to get close to you, but the cactuars kept getting in the way. By the time I did get close enough the confusion had hit Prompto, too, and the cactuars were overwhelming me. Gladio still seemed okay, so I point warped over to a rock near him.”
He moved his gaze slowly from Ignis to Gladio, and looking him right in the eyes almost made Noctis flinch, but he held back, for the most part. He knew Gladio was more perceptive than that, though, “I started to shout something to you, trying to come up with a plan to get out of the battle, but you wouldn’t answer me. Your sword was gone and you were just standing there, staring at your hands, so I moved in closer. I patted your shoulder to get your attention and you turned around, but then…” he had to look away then, the memory too fresh in his mind. Frankly, this was where his memories started getting fuzzy.
“You lifted your foot and kicked me back into the dirt. I can barely even remember it happening, honestly. I just remember staring up at the sky and this pain in my chest, but then I saw you summon your greatsword and I…” he shook his head, his mouth hanging open as he searched for the right words. He didn’t exactly want to admit to his shield that he had never been more afraid for his life than that moment, “Well, I warped, but I warped right into Ignis.”
“The good thing was I knew exactly how all of you fought and what to watch for,” he joked weakly, no one else sharing his smile, “Ignis had his spear, but it wasn’t hard to dodge, until you tripped me. I was surrounded by you and two of the cactuars, and I didn’t think fast enough so I couldn’t get away. I thought that if the cactuars hit me with confusion, too, we might actually kill each other, so I summoned a gun to shoot at them and fend them off, but I kind of just…forgot you were there. You surprised me from the side,” Noctis motioned to his right, showing where Ignis had been standing in relation, “And ripped up my side with your spear, then…”
The nausea rose up in Noctis with no warning, and before he even knew what was happening he was dry heaving into an empty trash can, Gladio’s large hand a comforting presence on his back. They’re not going to hurt you. He motioned for water when his stomach settled, Prompto offering it to him this time.
“Sorry,” he rasped, taking his lips off the bottle.
“There’s no need,” Ignis’ head was bowed, mouth pressing against his clasped hands. Noctis took another moment, then continued.
“I was holding my side, like this,” he showed them, clasping over the now stitched-up wound, “And my other arm was supporting me, so I guess you saw the opportunity and… took it. You stomped down on my wrist, and I think I blacked out for a second after that,” he put his hand to his head, thinking hard about what happened next. The pain had been so intense…he didn’t know what miracle had made Ignis not just finish him off right then and there.
Ignis inhaled deeply, pressing his face into his hands as he reclined in the cheap hospital chair. Entertaining the idea was one thing, actually hearing the play-by-play of how he had almost killed one of his best friends, his lovers, his prince-no, king, was almost too much for him to handle. He started tapping his heel against the floor; a bad habit of his when his stress really kicked in.
“But, when I got myself back together I got up and just started running. After that, I honestly can’t remember the order of things. It seemed like I felt the pain, heard the gunshot and fell back down all at the same time. Next time I opened my eyes Prompto was above me and man, buddy, let me tell you, those steel toed boots we bought you pack a punch,” Noctis laughed in spite of himself again, but regretted it as he watched the horror spread over Prompto’s expression. The blonde’s old boots had fallen apart after wading through the marsh around the Vesperpool, so Ignis had bought him new ones on the insistence that the steel toe was an extra layer of protection for the accident prone Prompto.
“So anyway…” Noctis started again, breaking the silence, “I definitely heard a rib crack, and I knew if I didn’t do something really powerful, really fast, I would be done for. I summoned Ramah, and his lightning took out the cactuars, of course. I don’t think you three got the full force of his judgment bolt—well, I know you didn’t, you probably wouldn’t be here right now if you did.” He doesn’t tell them about how he shouted for every astral he could think of while desperately crawling across the desert floor with only one good arm and leg, or how he cried for his father while cursing the crystal’s existence. Maybe someday, but not today.
Prompto gripped his hand with both of his, and Noctis could feel how bad the blonde was trembling. He wanted to comfort him, tell him that it was okay, but the words wouldn’t come to him.
“Noct, dude, if-if you n-never forgive me,” he’s nearly hyperventilating trying to get the words out, and Noctis was stunned into silence, “It…it’s okay, because I r-really don’t think I’ll e-ev-ever be able to make this up to you…” Prompto fell to his knees at the bedside, pressing his forehead to Noctis’ hand, “I’m so, so sorry.” Unable to help himself, Prompto started to cry again, cursing himself for how weak he had been that day. It was only Gladio’s hand rubbing slow circles into his back that broke him out of his trance. He let himself be pulled back up into the big guy’s lap, Gladio taking Noctis’ hand from his.
For once, Noctis was thankful for how forward Gladio could be. He gripped his lover’s hand with vigor, greedy for the loving contact, and met his eyes without flinching this time. It was a small step, but he felt the smallest bit of pride and confidence well up inside himself regardless. It spurred him on to continue his story.
“I know, after that, I shouted a lot of pretty terrible things at you guys, but I was just…terrified,” He swept his gaze to the other side of the room to find Ignis looking back at him again. It made him happy, to stare into the other man’s eyes as he had Gladio’s, “I was so scared of dying or being tricked by Ardyn; I was scared of losing you guys. But when you started humming that song, Ignis, I just…” It was Noctis’ turn to feel the tears spring to his eyes, but this time they were not borne out of fear or pain, “I was so relieved, so happy because I knew it was you. I knew that no one else in the world would know to hum that to me. That’s how I knew that you guys weren’t a trick, that you still loved me and that you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Ignis couldn’t help but smile through the tears, reflecting on the bond he had shared with Noctis for nearly his entire life. He felt a laugh bubbling up inside of himself, just relieved to see Noctis’ smile again. Noctis reached out his hand, beckoning Ignis over, and the adviser willingly took the offer. He kissed the back of the prince’s hand first, then flipped the hand to kiss his palm, finally nuzzling in to Noctis’ grip when he moved to cup Ignis’ cheek.
There were many more things to be said and confessions to be made, but the hour was well past midnight. Prompto, having dried most of his tears, asked if Noctis could scoot over in bed just a little. Ignis helped him move, and they ended up with Prompto half laying in the bed with the prince, fingers intertwined, and the blonde nuzzling into Noctis’ good side. Gladio almost protested, but Noctis assured him that he wasn’t in pain and that the contact felt nice. He needed it, he insisted, after watching Prompto cry so much over him.
“Hey Iggy,” Noctis whispered, not wanting to wake the dozing blonde, “Do you think you can hum that song again?”
“I can do better than that,” he insisted, pulling out his phone, “I still have an old recording your father sent me; it was how I learned the melody in the first place.” He swiped in a code to unlock the screen, then began scrolling through his music player.
“A recording? I didn’t know it was played live that often,” Gladio remarked. He vaguely recognized the song, but didn’t know it as well as Ignis.
“It wasn’t. To my knowledge it was only played for the King and Queen once; at the celebration of Noctis’ birth. I wasn’t there myself, of course, but the King had it recorded, and thank goodness he did.” Ignis tapped a song then, turning up the volume slightly, and set the phone down on the bed. The song opened with a soft violin note, the piano slowly filtering in, and Noctis was lost to the music, his eyes slipping shut as he felt his breathing slow and even out.
After it played fully through one time the prince was just barely aware of Ignis and Gladio moving around the room. He heard Ignis’ smooth accent mumble something about nurses and cot beds, but that was all Noctis could remember before the song started again, and he drifted off to sleep.