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PROMPTO, DAY 1
Prompto doesn’t even remember how he got here. One moment, Aranea was helping send him off to go meet up with Noct again, and the next, Noct appeared to him.
Only that it wasn’t Noctis, it was Ardyn.
Prompto doesn’t know if he’ll make it out alive this time. He’d already pushed his luck dealing with Ardyn, Prompto’s … biological father, fighting the Immortalis, and everything else over the past few days.
Prompto knows if it weren’t for Aranea’s help, he’d be dead already. He supposes it’s only a matter of time before Ardyn realizes that Noct doesn’t have time to rescue Prompto, and he’s here for nothing.
It’s hard for Prompto to focus on his breaths with a broken rib. At least, he thinks it’s broken. Every breath feels like a shard of glass in his chest, the sobs that escape his throat intensifying the pain that much more.
It still doesn’t stop him from crying. He wonders how long he’ll be alive. Not long, likely. Prompto had never seen such cold hatred in someone’s eyes until he was brought face-to-face with Ardyn.
Prompto doesn’t even know why Ardyn hates him so much.
IGNIS, DAY 1
Ignis will never forget Noct’s tortured cry when he told Ignis that he’d pushed Prompto off the train accidentally. All the Chancellor’s doing, but regardless, the three were helpless to do anything to help Prompto without endangering everyone on board the train.
Ignis has to maintain what little composure he has left to comfort Noct, and keep Noct’s head in the right place.
“Stay calm, Noct. I’m as concerned for Prompto as you are, but stopping the train would endanger everyone on board. We’d be sitting ducks for the daemons,” Ignis tells Noct in the calmest voice he can manage.
It doesn’t quite help. Ignis throws the glass he was drinking from to the train floor in a sharp fog of anger, frustration, and loss. The shattering of glass is deafening.
Gladio is silent for a moment before he speaks. “You gotta let it out sometime, Iggy. You’ve been holding all that in--”
“I’m perfectly alright,” Ignis snaps, and then something inside him breaks.
Prompto is gone. Prompto could be dead. There isn’t anything any of them can do about it. There isn’t anything that Ignis can do about it.
Gladio pulls Ignis into his arms, and crushes Ignis’s head to his chest.
“You’re not,” Gladio tells him. “Use it.”
Ignis stiffens before allowing Gladio’s comforting gesture to sink into his bones, and Ignis lets out a soft sob.
“Not Prompto,” Ignis whispers, voice shaking. “Astrals above, don’t take him away from me, please.”
It’s the first time Ignis has acknowledged his feelings for Prompto out loud to anyone other than himself.
Gladio’s grip on Ignis tightens. “ Use it. We’re gonna need that.” Gladio doesn’t even sound the least bit surprised at Ignis’s spontaneous outburst. “We’re gonna get him, Iggy.”
Ignis can’t even cry. The tears don’t come; they simply sting his eyes. He’s too utterly exhausted to even cry any longer. They’d been through so much Ignis isn’t even certain if he can cry.
Ignis hopes more than anything that Gladio is right.
PROMPTO, DAY 3
Prompto doesn’t remember the last time he felt okay. His time with Aranea, his time with the guys -- all feels like a distant memory.
He can’t sleep when he’s chained up like this, he knows that much. One bruise is starting to bloom into the next -- he can’t keep track of the injuries anymore. Prompto is just happy he’s managed to stop bleeding long enough to take a sharp, pained breath once in a while.
The worst part isn’t the bruises, the cuts, the broken rib or whatever else that aches through his body at the moment.
The worst part is how Prompto almost believes it every time Ardyn imitates one of his friends.
First, it was mostly Noct, telling Prompto that he’s worthless, that he doesn’t mean anything, that he isn’t worth any effort to rescue; that he’s a fraud.
Ardyn got bored with that pretty quickly. He’d switched to Gladio from time to time, and Prompto felt really stupid the first time it happened; if anyone could find Prompto first, it would be someone strong, like Gladio.
Prompto couldn’t stop crying when Gladio told him that Prompto was a danger to Noct, a murderer, a lifeless machine that couldn’t be trusted -- someone Gladio needed to get rid of.
Ardyn wore Ignis’s face the most, it seemed.
Prompto, deep down inside, knows that it’s just Ardyn messing with him at this point. Just like how it’d been with Noct and Gladio.
Ardyn imitates Ignis so well, though. It almost seems like the real thing -- almost.
“You don’t truly believe that you’re one of us, do you?” Ignis’s voice sounds in his ears.
Prompto squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t look at Ardyn’s perfect imitation of Ignis, or he’ll believe it. He’ll believe it. He’ll believe it.
“You don’t truly believe that you’re worth my time, do you?” Ignis murmurs, his voice a low purr. “That I could possibly have affections for a machine like you?”
Prompto’s eyes flutter open then, and Prompto sees him. Ignis. Dressed exactly the way he was when Prompto last saw him, beautiful as ever, fresh pink scar over one eye.
Prompto focuses on his breathing, in and out, ignoring the way his chest burns. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s Ardyn.
Prompto has no idea how Ardyn knows about Prompto’s weakness; about Prompto’s love for Ignis.
Not-Ignis looks down in Prompto’s direction, lips pursed in disapproval. “I ought to just kill you now, and put you out of your misery,” Ignis’s accent makes the threat sound so pretty in Prompto’s ears.
“You’re not real!” Prompto screams, squeezing his eyes shut again.
Ardyn’s laughter fills his ears.
IGNIS, DAY 5
Ignis has hardly slept since Prompto fell off the train.
Ignis knows he’s of little use when he’s like this, but he cannot sleep knowing that Prompto is out there. He’s almost grateful when they reach Zegnautus Keep, because then he doesn’t have to pretend to sleep any longer.
Of course, that’s exactly around the time Noct becomes separated from Ignis and Gladio. Without his sight, he has no way of looking for Noct or Prompto without Gladio’s aid, and the fear that forms in his chest rivals no other, radiating outward to every inch of himself.
Ignis is terrified that Gladio will tell him that he’s found Prompto, only for him to be lifeless in his arms, never laughing or singing or happy again.
The knowledge that Ignis will more than likely have to let Noct die is more than enough to haunt him for the rest of his days.
If he loses Prompto, Ignis isn’t certain he can ever recover again.
With Noct’s return, Prompto’s comes swiftly thereafter. Neither of them are in any mortal danger -- at least for the moment.
Nothing, however, prepares Ignis for the way Prompto sounds. They had him strung up -- or chained -- and Prompto sounds so lost, as if Prompto didn’t believe that they’d come looking for him at all.
“Tell me, Noct, were you worried about me?” Prompto asks in the softest voice Ignis has heard.
Ignis feels his heart shatter into a thousand pieces.
He hears Gladio discussing his injuries, and Ignis almost can’t bear to listen. Ignis needs to touch Prompto, to feel him in his arms, to know that he’s safe.
They take Prompto to one of the dormitories, and Ignis can hear the way Prompto’s feet drag more so than usual.
“Sit down, Prompto,” Ignis murmurs, his voice low with emotion.
“O-okay, Iggy,” he says softly, voice weak.
Ignis sits on one of the beds next to Prompto. He feels a nervous energy between the two of them, rolling off of Prompto in waves. Ignis doesn’t know where it’s safe to touch.
“Let me inspect your injuries?” Ignis starts.
Ignis feels arms wrap around his neck, and Prompto’s voice is suddenly very close to his ear as Prompto hugs Ignis tightly.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Iggy,” Prompto gasps. “I was so worried about you.”
Ignis is taken aback for a moment; here Prompto is, recovering from torture and all Prompto can say is how worried he is about Ignis.
Ignis’s arms wrap around Prompto slowly, holding him as tightly against his chest as Ignis can without worsening Prompto’s injuries.
“I’ve no idea what I’d have done if anything happened to you, Prompto,” Ignis finds himself admitting. “I’m so terribly sorry you were gone so long.”
Prompto sniffles, pulling out of Ignis’s embrace. “Don’t say sorry, Iggy. I’m just happy it’s over.”
Ignis can tell that Prompto is hiding something. Ignis knows it’s so very far from over, but he doesn’t want to push Prompto any more than he has to. Gladio and Noct are still in the room, but they’re silent.
Ignis made it very, very obvious regarding his affections for Prompto to both Gladio and Noct while Prompto was gone. He’s grateful that they don’t mention it. It’s the very last thing Prompto needs right now.
Ignis gently runs his fingers along Prompto’s arms, his shoulders, his neck. Prompto insists his legs are fine, but Ignis tests the mobility of them, regardless. His hands hover over Prompto’s chest, and Prompto withdraws sharply.
“A-ah, don’t,” Prompto warns. “It hurts.”
“Have you broken a rib?” Ignis wonders. “I won’t hurt it, Prompto.”
He can feel Prompto relax under his fingers as he gently runs his hands over Prompto’s chest. He can feel Prompto’s breaths, gently labored and withdrawn.
“I-I think it’s broken,” Prompto says. “I think when he kicked me, maybe. It hurt to breathe after that.”
Ignis wants to find that bloody Chancellor himself and slit his throat, or perhaps snap his spinal cord with his bare hands for even glancing in Prompto’s direction.
“Let the area breathe, and I want you to take deep breaths as much as you can,” Ignis tells him softly.
“Deep breaths hurt,” Prompto says sadly.
“I’m aware, but can you try for me?” Ignis asks.
“Y-yeah, I’ll try, Iggy.”
“This curative should mend it quicker,” Ignis says as he breaks the magic over Prompto with his palm.
They decide to stay in the dormitory for the evening to get some much-needed rest for Prompto -- and the rest of them -- before they try to get to the Crystal.
Ignis actually finds his eyelids getting rather heavy for a brief moment now that he knows his family is relatively in one piece, sleeping in the beds next to him. He dozes for a moment, until he hears the faintest of sobs coming from one of the beds.
Prompto is crying; he’d recognize the noise anywhere. The softest sobs and sniffles come from the adjacent bed, and Ignis can’t bear to hear the sound. Ignis lets his feet touch the ground and heads toward the direction of Prompto’s soft cries.
PROMPTO, DAY 6
Prompto thought the worst was over, now that Noct -- the real Noct -- found him. Gladio, Noct, and Ignis had all been there, and they all sounded so worried.
Ignis sounded the most worried of them all, but maybe that was just Prompto projecting his own feelings onto the other man.
Sometimes, though, Ardyn would pretend to be worried about Prompto, wearing his friend’s faces, wearing Ignis’s face.
How the hell was he supposed to know what was real? What did Prompto even know about being real? He was made around here somewhere, in a damn laboratory, made to hurt the ones sleeping in the beds next to him.
Prompto doesn’t even know how to tell them all about the barcode on his wrist, or where it came from. Prompto doesn’t even know for sure that this isn’t one of Ardyn’s tricks, faking some elaborate scheme to make it appear that he was rescued when he really wasn’t.
Did Noct actually come back for him? Was that really Ignis who helped mend his rib?
Prompto tried so hard to sleep, but all he can do now is cry. The first tear spilled over onto his cheeks, and he thought he could reign it in, but now Prompto cries against his pillow unrelentlessly, trying to muffle the noise with his pillow so his friends don’t wake up.
Prompto jumps when he feels someone grip his shoulder tightly.
“Prompto,” Ignis’s voice whispers in the darkness. “Shall I take you next door?”
The dormitory next to them is completely empty-- the four of them decided to stay in only one, needing to be close to one another.
Prompto knows Ignis is only offering because he’s too loud and will wake Noct up. Maybe it’s not even actually Ignis, it’s just Ardyn luring him into another room of tortures.
“I-I’m scared, I’m scared this isn’t real and you’re not real and--”
Prompto accidentally lets out his loudest sob yet.
Ignis says nothing, at least nothing that Prompto can hear over his hysterical gasps. Prompto simply feels the pressure of Ignis’s weight on the bed, and Ignis pulls Prompto against him, sliding him effortlessly onto Ignis’s lap.
Prompto melts against him, sobbing into Ignis’s shirt, clawing his hands into Ignis’s chest. He cries silently like that for a long time. Ignis holds him tightly, fingers gently stroking through Prompto’s hair.
“It’s alright,” Ignis soothes into his ear in a hushed tone. “It’s alright, Prompto. I’m here. I’m real, we’re real. You’re safe.”
Prompto gasps, sobs making it hard to breathe, hurting his broken rib even more. He burrows his head into Ignis’s chest, gripping Ignis’s shirt as if it would keep Ignis from leaving.
Ardyn sometimes pretended to comfort him as Ignis, but never for this long.
“I can’t,” Prompto sobs. “What if i-it’s another trick. What if Ardyn--”
“I won’t let Ardyn near you ever again, Prompto,” Ignis promises, his voice wavering with emotion. “I will die before I will let that happen to you ever again.”
“I-Iggy,” Prompto hiccups. “Iggy.”
Prompto feels kind of stupid; all he can manage to say is Ignis’s name, but it’s enough. Ignis’s fingers continue to stroke Prompto’s hair, and he feels Ignis’s lips at the top of his head.
“Deep breaths,” Ignis reminds him. “I will never let you go again. I’m so sorry, Prompto.”
Prompto inhales shakily, whimpering softly only a little as he lets the breath out. He ignores the sting of his broken rib as he sniffles, letting another tiny sob escape.
“I’m so scared,” Prompto whispers brokenly. “What if I’m n-not real? What if I hurt one of you? What if I hurt you--”
“Shh, shh, hush now,” Ignis soothes. “Of that, I am certain you are not capable.”
“You don’t know. You don’t know, Iggy…” Prompto forgets to breathe like Ignis told him to, and starts to gasp again. “I gotta tell you. I’m gonna wake up Noct, oh, shit.”
“Shall I take you next door?” Ignis asks again.
Prompto can’t hold it in any longer. He nods brokenly against Ignis’s chest. “Uh huh.”
Ignis slides his free arm under Prompto’s legs, and carries him out of the room. Ignis leaves his cane behind, not having a free hand to carry it with, but Prompto knows he’s being careful, taking gentle, slow steps until they reach the empty dormitory across the hall.
Prompto watches Ignis kick the the bed with his feet, finding the exact location so Ignis can reach out and feel for the bed before he sets Prompto down gently onto it.
As soon as Ignis sits next to Prompto on the bed, Prompto crawls into Ignis’s lap and settles there. Ignis’s arms wrap around him gently, holding him against his chest again.
Prompto’s cries are softer this time, but still very much there. The front of Ignis’s shirt is all but soaked with Prompto’s tears.
“Did I wake you u-up, Iggy?” Prompto whispers.
“I was already awake,” Ignis promises. “I haven’t slept since you were taken.”
Prompto lets out a soft sob. “I don’t wanna be away from you anymore.”
Prompto loves Ignis so much it hurts; it’s an ache in his chest that won’t go away. Ignis has never held him like this before, and Prompto wants to cry knowing that this might be the only reason why he ever would.
“I’m here,” Ignis promises. “I won’t leave you.”
“I was supposed to hurt Noct. I was made here, I’m an MT, I’m not real,” Prompto whimpers. “I shouldn’t be around any of you.”
“What are you on about?” Ignis wonders gently. “An Magitek Trooper?”
Prompto moves his bracelet then, his arm shaky and hesitant, as he takes Ignis’s hand and lets him feel the barcode on his arm. He sniffles, waiting for Ignis to shove him away in disgust.
“I was supposed to be an MT. They have the same barcodes on my wrist. It’s there, I know you can’t see it, but it’s there, and, and--” Prompto sobs. “I don’t wanna leave you but I know I should, I know I’m supposed to--”
“ Prompto,” Ignis says softly. “You aren’t going anywhere. You belong with us.”
“But my wrist--”
Prompto feels Ignis run his thumb along Prompto’s wrist before bringing it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against his skin where his barcode lies. Prompto feels his face flush, heart thudding in his chest.
“It doesn’t matter,” Ignis promises. “You are one of us. You always have been. You always will be, if that is what you wish.”
Prompto sniffles, and stares at Ignis for the longest time. He looks so beautiful, even though his brow is creased with worry, and his cheeks are wet with silent tears that Prompto didn’t even hear him cry.
Ardyn’s imitations never cried.
“Iggy,” Prompto whispers, leaning against Ignis’s chest. “Iggy, please, can you…”
Ignis releases Prompto’s wrist from his gentle grip, and pulls Prompto tighter against him. Ignis lets out a soft breath. “Tell me what you need, dear Prompto.”
Prompto inhales shakily. “Tell me you’re real. Tell me you’re not Ardyn.”
Ignis starts stroking Prompto’s hair again. “I’m certainly not Ardyn,” Ignis promises. “This is real, Prompto, I assure you.”
“T-tell me… tell me something only you know?” Prompto begs. “Only you, Iggy.”
It’s silent for a moment, causing fear to swirl in Prompto’s stomach. What if there’s silence because it’s Ardyn? What if Ardyn discovered a new form of psychological torture to make Prompto never believe if Iggy would be real ever again?
Ignis clutches Prompto tighter, and Prompto’s nervous thoughts freeze for the briefest of moments.
“I love you very dearly,” Ignis says softly. “I have since I was seventeen.”
IGNIS, DAY 6
Ignis is quite possibly the most selfish man alive.
He’d held Prompto in his arms, as tightly as he could for the better part of an hour, just listening to his soft cries. Ignis thought perhaps his heart couldn’t break any further, until he felt Prompto shuddering and gasping against his chest, crying so much he could hardly breathe.
Ignis kissed the top of Prompto’s head several times that night, and if Prompto minded, he did not show it. He simply held onto Ignis and cried.
Ardyn had made Prompto not trust himself; not trust Ignis.
How could Ignis not tell him how dearly he loved Prompto, then? When Prompto all but asked for it, begged him to in that soft, broken voice of his?
Ignis shouldn’t have done it, not when Prompto is as upset as he is now. He’d every intention of telling Prompto once he recovered, once they were relatively out of danger, but certainly not now .
The words slipped out of him before he had the chance to reign them in.
“I love you very dearly,” Ignis whispers against Prompto’s hair. “I have since I was seventeen.”
The silence that follows thereafter is absolutely deafening. He hopes he can resolve this, if those words aren’t what Prompto needs. Ignis would do anything for Prompto, even if it removed him from the picture entirely.
The noise that escapes Prompto’s mouth can only be described as a whimper. Ignis feels Prompto’s hand slide up Ignis’s chest and wrap around the back of his neck as Prompto lets out a soft gasp.
“Iggy,” Prompto whispers brokenly. “H-he wore your face all the time, with whatever magic he has, and-- and he knew, he knew, he told me you’d never love me. You told me you’d never love me, I-Iggy. How did he know I-- I--” Prompto cuts himself off with more sobs.
Ignis has to remind himself to breathe. All Ignis wants for Prompto is for him to know how loved he is, how special he is, and that damn Ardyn took any hopes of that and threw it away.
You told me you’d never love me. The words would haunt Ignis for as long as he lived.
“Prompto.” His voice is a mere gasp. “ Prompto, it wasn’t real. It wasn’t true, I promise you. I love you, I always have. I will always love you. I would never say anything otherwise. You know that. Tell me you know that, Prompto.”
Prompto lets out a sob of relief this time. “I kn-knew it was him. I closed my eyes, Igs. I didn’t wanna see your face ‘cause I knew it was him, but I… what if he was right, what if you never could…”
Ignis doesn’t ever want Prompto to think that Ignis could never love him. How could Ignis not love Prompto? The man meant everything to Ignis.
“I love you,” Ignis repeats, kissing Prompto’s temple gently. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Prompto lets out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. It’s full of relief as he takes a deep breath, pressing his cheek against Ignis’s in a tight hug. Ignis feels Prompto’s lips on his cheek as he kisses once, twice, three times before he buries his head into Ignis’s shoulder.
“I love you, Iggy,” Prompto whispers. “Gods, I love you so much, it was the only thing that kept me alive, hoping I’d see you again, be able to protect you, dude. I was so worried.”
Ignis feels as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Ignis holds Prompto’s head against him, finding a reason to smile for the first time in a long, long time.
“I haven’t the words to describe how happy I am that you’re safely in my arms, Prompto,” Ignis murmurs. “If I had it my way, I would never let you go.”
Prompto’s voice is soft when he responds, barely above a whisper. “Can we go back to bed now, Iggy? Will you hold me?”
“Until I absolutely cannot any longer, I promise.”
Prompto leads them out of the empty dormitory then. His grip on Ignis’s hand is tight as he guides Ignis into the dormitory with Gladio and Noct (hopefully) sleeping. Prompto guides him to the bed. Ignis sits, waiting for Prompto to get comfortable.
“Is everything okay?” Noct’s voice whispers into the darkness, laced with sleep.
It astonishes Ignis how little sleep Noctis gets these days. It was almost impossible to rouse him nearly his entire life. Ignis doesn’t want to think about why that suddenly changed.
“Yes,” Ignis assures him. “Prompto needed a bit of first aid, and I did not wish to wake you.”
“Wake me anyway,” Noct says. “Keep close. Please, Specs.”
“As you wish, Noctis,” Ignis promises.
Ignis feels Prompto tugging on his sleeve, as if Prompto couldn’t stand a moment being away from Ignis. It causes Ignis’s heart to thud pathetically.
Ignis turns, then, lowering himself into a lying position so he can wrap his arms around Prompto from behind. His arm curls around Prompto’s torso, and Prompto scoots closer so that his back touches Ignis’s front. He feels Prompto sigh wistfully against him, but a tired sound, nonetheless. Prompto’s fingers curl around Ignis’s own, holding tight.
“Is this okay?” Prompto whispers hesitantly.
“More than, I assure you,” Ignis promises, pressing his lips to the back of Prompto’s head. “Rest now, darling. We’ve a long day tomorrow.”
PROMPTO, DAY 7
Prompto has never valued his life less than in this very moment.
Daemons surround the four of them, with no sign of victory or escape. Prompto desperately tries to make sure Ignis and Gladio are safe as he watches Noct disappear.
Prompto will never forget the anguish in Noct’s eyes as he realized he had to leave them all behind in order to get to the Crystal.
There were so many daemons; even if Noct stayed, it wouldn’t have helped.
Prompto always had something to fight for, something to prove, something to protect; but now, it’s different. Now, his friends know everything about where he came from, and they don’t care. Now, Prompto has Ignis, in every way he ever could have wanted Ignis, in every way he ever dreamed of having Ignis.
Prompto can still feel the way Ignis repeated it in his ear, his warm breath sending goosebumps along Prompto’s skin. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Prompto would die at the hands of all these daemons before he’d let any of them touch Iggy, or Gladio.
“There’s an opening!” Gladio’s shout sounds in Prompto’s ears. “Let’s go! Now!”
“Prompto!” Ignis shouts. “In front of me, now!”
Prompto listens, but grips Ignis’s hand tightly as they run, making their way out of immediate harm’s way, the daemons at their tails.
It isn’t long before they find the long corridor with the Crystal’s bright blue glow shining at the end of it, as if highlighting the path before them. He feels Ignis’s hand squeeze his own as they run faster and faster to get to their Prince.
Prompto hears Noct’s scream before he can see anything else.
IGNIS, DAY 7
They were too late. The Prince -- King, now -- had been claimed by the Crystal. Noct’s scream of pain split Ignis nearly in two when he’d heard it.
If anything could have been done to stop this from happening, it would have been prevented by Ardyn who still stood there, laughing as if the loss of Noct was amusing to him.
Ignis hears a gunshot from where Prompto stands, followed by the thud of someone -- presumably Ardyn -- falling to the floor.
Ignis should have known that it would achieve nothing, but he still can’t help the swirl of pride he feels at how Prompto acted with so little hesitation. Ignis waits for the briefest of moments, reaching out to touch Prompto’s arm. He has to ensure that Prompto is still there.
He meant every word of his promise that he wouldn’t let Ardyn anywhere near him. Ignis takes a step forward, shielding Prompto with his body.
“He’s gone,” Prompto whispers.
Ignis has no idea if Prompto is referring to Ardyn or Noctis.
Gladio’s voice sounds heartbreakingly somber when he speaks. “We have to get outta here.”
“We can’t… we can’t leave!” Prompto starts to sob.
Ignis feels his hands start to tremble; all the emotions that he’s felt over the past several weeks start to bubble to the surface. All the loss, fear, sadness, anger, anxiety seems to flood through Ignis’s veins all at once.
Noctis was gone.
“I…” Ignis begins, “I cannot--”
Ignis’s knees buckle, the ground meeting them roughly as Ignis’s legs give out underneath him. There isn’t enough air; he can’t find his breaths suddenly.
“ I-Iggy!” Prompto sobs, as Ignis feels Prompto’s arms wrap around him.
Ignis lets out a soft gasp.
“We can’t do this now!” Gladio yells, voice starting to waver. “We have to go.”
Ignis grips onto Prompto for dear life, nails digging into Prompto’s arm desperately as Ignis hears the blood roaring in his ears.
The boy he’d spent his entire life protecting, the boy he’d given his entire life to, the man that Noct had become over these past months -- gone. Ignis doesn’t know for how long, if ever.
“Noctis--” Ignis cries brokenly.
Gladio’s voice is much closer now as he feels his hand squeeze Ignis’s shoulder. “We have a duty to Noct to stay alive so we can protect him.”
“J-just give him a minute, Gladio,” Prompto begs.
Ignis has never heard Prompto sound so frightened.
The hand Gladio has on Ignis’s shoulder tightens its grip. “Think about Prompto. He ain’t safe here.”
Ignis clenches his fist. He forces himself to find a deep breath, getting a hold of himself. He has to keep Prompto safe. He promised.
PROMPTO, DAY 9
Prompto will never forget the way Ignis broke down on the floor in Zegnautus Keep. He’d never really seen Iggy cry before, maybe a tear or an emotional breath now and then, but he’d never seen Ignis sob.
It burned a hole in Prompto’s heart right next to the hole Noct left when he disappeared.
It’d only been two days, but Prompto feels Noct’s absence everywhere. In the gentle sobs of Ignis at night, in the silence of Gladio, in the solemn expression Aranea wore when she found out.
Aranea had shown up just in time to get Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio out of Gralea.
Ignis could hardly speak when it happened. He’d hardly said a word the rest of that night; Ignis simply held Prompto, deep in thought.
At first, Prompto was scared Ignis didn’t want to talk to him. He was scared that any touch Prompto delivered would upset him.
Prompto quickly finds out that isn’t the case -- Ignis clings to Prompto, like Prompto is all he has left. Prompto can feel Ignis’s gentle sobs now and then as he holds him on their way back to Lestallum.
As soon as Aranea drops the three of them off in Lestallum, Ignis speaks more than one word for the first time in two days.
“We need to find rest somewhere,” Ignis says softly.
Prompto reaches for Ignis’s hand, which Ignis instinctively takes. Prompto looks over at Gladio, and he sighs.
“You two find somewhere. I need to go kill something,” Gladio says.
If that’s how Gladio copes -- by hunting -- then Prompto wants him to go. It doesn’t help that it’s just another separation. Ignis stiffens next to him as well.
“A-are you sure? Shouldn’t we… shouldn’t we stay together?” Prompto asks.
Gladio sighs. “We’ll talk about it when I get back. You two need sleep. Go.”
Prompto watches Gladio run off, hoping it doesn’t upset Ignis any further. He knows Ignis is only half put together right now -- anything else on his plate would cause him to topple over.
“Iggy?” Prompto asks softly.
“Prompto,” Ignis acknowledges. “Let’s see if there are any vacancies. Is it truly dark everywhere?”
“Yeah,” Prompto says. “I don’t think it’s gonna end.”
They find a small room big enough for two. Prompto knows that Gladio won’t show up tonight, and if he does, they’ll make room regardless. Prompto doesn’t think they should be separated right now anyway.
Prompto sits on the bed next to Ignis, who looks completely lost in thought, a permanent frown on his face.
“What… what are we gonna do?” Prompto asks, his voice feeling small.
Ignis feels for Prompto’s hand, then. He takes a deep breath. “I suppose all we can do now is wait.”
“Do you think Gladio…?”
“I suspect it will be a while before he returns,” Ignis murmurs. “But he will when he is ready.”
Something feels off, like things are about to change. Prompto can feel it in his bones, and can feel it in the air around him, in the darkness that’s settled all over Eos.
“I love you, Iggy,” Prompto says suddenly as he starts to sniffle. “Will you stay with me?”
Ignis reaches for Prompto, holding his arms out. Prompto climbs into his lap, burrowing himself into Ignis’s embrace.
“I love you,” Ignis says softly. “I had no intention of ever leaving your side, Prompto. I apologize for my behavior the past few days. I’m afraid I lost a bit of control there.”
Prompto reaches up to cradle Ignis’s face. “Don’t say sorry, Iggy. I know why… you don’t gotta talk about it, but…”
“I feel as if I failed him,” Ignis says suddenly, his voice wavering with emotion. “It shouldn’t have been this way.”
“How could you say that, Iggy?” Prompto nearly gasps. “You did everything you could. We all did. Noct… he’s gotta come back. He’s gotta.”
“King Regis entrusted me with his safety,” Ignis chokes out a sob. “I failed him. I failed Noct. He deserves far better than what this world gave him. He’s only a boy.”
Prompto hugs Ignis tightly. How long had Ignis been holding onto this? How long has Ignis blamed himself for Noct’s fate?
Prompto sniffles. “You’re the best man I have ever met. It’s not your fault, Iggy. It’s not your fault.”
Ignis holds Prompto tightly, breathing shakily in Prompto’s ear. “Noctis must sacrifice himself to restore the light to the world,” Ignis whispers. “When he returns…”
Prompto doesn’t need Ignis to finish the sentence. He knew that bringing the light back wouldn’t be easy, but he didn’t know that it would be at the cost of his best friend’s life. It’s bad enough Noct was gone now, but to have to say goodbye twice…
All they can do is hold each other until they have no tears left to cry.
IGNIS, MONTH 3
Ignis can sense light, but not much else. He can sense the lights in Lestallum, and the darkness when they leave the small city. He senses the darkness whenever Prompto turns off their light to go to bed, just like he has tonight in their small apartment.
Ignis knew he would have to become accustomed to darkness due to his eyesight, but he hadn’t prepared for Prompto to have to, as well.
Noctis was still inside the Crystal after the better part of three months, absorbing its power. Ignis has no idea how long it would take. Ignis wonders if it would take years.
Ignis has a very difficult time sleeping alone these days. Thankfully, Prompto hasn’t left his side, not even once. Prompto keeps him close always, and sleeps with his head tucked under Ignis’s chin.
If Ignis were to sleep alone, he’d know that the nightmares would increase even more than they already do. They both have nightmares. They both have nights where they simply have to cry out whatever memory that comes crashing back to them.
Ignis still isn’t used to crying so much. Prompto insists that it’s healthy; Prompto insists that Ignis should never keep his emotions hidden any longer, especially now.
Gladio returned sooner than Ignis thought he would. He still sounded bleak, but nevertheless more composed once he had a few hunts under his belt.
Ignis has no idea if an open wound such as Noct’s disappearance could heal without treatment, but they were trying. Ignis tried. And if he kept busy, sometimes he only thought about Noctis once or twice a day.
Those days, however, were quite rare. Ignis thinks about Noct all the time. He knows Prompto does as well; Prompto will always talk about some fond memory before he remembers who he spent that memory with, and he quiets himself with a gentle sadness that Ignis never wants to hear in Prompto’s voice, ever.
Ignis is happy he can keep Prompto safe, if anything. If Prompto needs comfort, Ignis holds him. If Prompto needs a shoulder to cry on, Ignis listens. If Prompto needs a distraction, well, Ignis has plenty of those.
Ignis would do anything to keep Prompto safe and as happy as he possibly could be.
“Hey, Iggy?” Prompto whispers as he’s curled up against Ignis in bed, about to get some rest before starting another lightless day.
“Yes, my love?” Ignis murmurs.
“Are you okay?”
Prompto asks this a lot. It’s become his way of checking in on Ignis, making certain that there isn’t anything Ignis needs to discuss.
“I suppose so,” Ignis always responds -- it’s the best he can do.
“I love you, Iggy,” Prompto always tells him.
“And I, you.”
PROMPTO, YEAR 1
The darkness, as it turns out, absolutely sucks.
Sure, Prompto is able to live with the love of his life, which is always nice, but as soon as he steps outside Lestallum, something tries to take a bite out of him, or possibly rip his limbs off (not so nice).
His best friend has been inside the Crystal for a whole year. Ignis suspects it might be a while before Noct can come back.
They’re able to say his name without crying, but it’s not often. Prompto’s wounds from Zegnautus Keep have mended entirely, even that pesky rib that gave him a run for his money for a few weeks after they’d left.
The emotional scars were a different story. Sometimes, he’d have to ask Ignis something -- something that only Ignis would know. Sometimes, Prompto’s still scared this is all some sort of sick, twisted game.
Ignis’s love and care grounds him away from those thoughts more than anything these days.
Prompto can tell a routine is starting to form between the two of them, and even Gladio when he shows up. Iggy talks about the possibility of venturing out to explore ruins, and training to fight in the darkness alongside Prompto. They take turns cooking meals, Prompto helping Iggy whenever he needs it, and before long, they start cooking for a lot of people who have taken refuge in Lestallum.
Gladio stops by whenever he can, but the big guy handles his grief with a broadsword instead of playing house. Prompto gets it. He needs to shoot some daemons from time to time, too.
There is, and always will be a Noctis-shaped hole in Prompto’s heart, but it doesn’t feel like the only thing in his heart, now. The seeds Ignis planted in his heart all those years ago have blossomed into beautiful flowers of love and safety.
The nightmares, as often as they are, aren’t as often as they were before. Prompto’s very, very grateful for that -- especially when he wakes up to Ignis’s soft sobs much less often now. Prompto would do anything to make sure that he doesn’t see Ignis cry ever again.
Prompto hears a loud crash from their makeshift kitchen, shocking him out of his thoughts, and he’s practically falling off the couch to scramble to his feet, rushing over to Ignis worriedly.
“Babe?” Prompto asks before he turns the corner.
Prompto finds Ignis hunched over the sink, soft sobs coming out of him.
“Iggy!” Prompto gasps, running over to him and turning him around so that he can wrap his arms around Ignis. “Iggy, what’s wrong?!”
“I-I cooked his favorite meal by accident, I… It was as if he was still here, and I wasn’t thinking properly,” Ignis whispers, breathless.
Oh. Prompto feels his eyes well up with tears. Ignis has nearly 20 years under his belt caring for Noct, and Prompto didn’t even think about the fact that the things that came naturally to Ignis are usually because of Noct.
“Oh, baby,” Prompto sobs, holding Ignis tightly. “I… I still expect to play King’s Knight with him, y’know? That we’ll go fishing or play video games. That I’ll still find him sleeping on our couch, or something. It’s… it’s not gonna go away. But he loves us, Iggy, just like we love him. He’s getting ready to save the world, Igs.” He sniffles. “He’s gonna save the w-world.”
“Prompto,” Ignis sobs into Prompto’s hair. “I’ve no idea what I’d do without you.”
Prompto laughs breathlessly, trying to hold back his tears. “Good thing we never gotta find out, huh?”
“A very, very good thing,” Ignis breathes, trying to keep his breathing even and calm. “I love you, darling.”
“I love you too, Iggy. So much,” Prompto says. He leans up and kisses Ignis, kisses him like he’ll never see him again. “We should eat it anyway, y’know? We shouldn’t pretend he isn’t here because he’s always gonna be here.”
Ignis lets out a sad laugh. “I suppose you’re right. He’ll always be a part of me, just as you are.”
They hold each other for a long time, until both of their breathing starts to calm, listening to the other’s heartbeat.
“Are you okay, Iggy?” Prompto asks after a moment, as per usual.
“Yes,” Ignis says for the first time. “Yes, I think we’ll be quite alright.”