iwillshieldhim | Open Post

Gladio wasn't about to say a thing to Ignis about the conversation he'd had with Noct over text. Not that he could get a word in edge-wise on this incredibly boring curry conversation - he loved the man but he had little desire to stand here and listen to this - but it did give him time to think. He'd outted the fact that there had been something between himself and Ignis and for some time as well as the fact they most certainly knew about Noct and his blond shadow and what they did when they thought they couldn't be heard.

He hadn't been lying about the earplugs.

He slid his phone back into his pocket and hoped Noct actually did save him from this, equally hoping that Prompto was keeping to his word and was somewhere out here at the marketplace and not wandering off. Sometimes, in the ever-powerful lure of photos, he had seen Prompto do some spectacularly stupid things. At least they were in a city; there was only so much damage Prompto could do (or so he hoped).

Noctis had left the hotel not long after sending his last text to Gladio, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process all this new information.

Ignis and Gladio were a thing, like he and Prompto were a thing. But that hadn't stopped Glaido from sleeping with him? Not that he was complaining and honestly he found all three of his friends extremely attractive this was just new. Very new. And he wasn't sure what to do about it.

He eventually ended up in the market and it wasn't hard to figure out where his friends were, grinning to himself as he approached and started to catch bits and pieces of the conversation Ignis was having. The steward seemed rather pleased to have found someone that actually knew what they were talking about and not just selling things to sell them, completely engrossed in the recipes they were trading.

Which gave Noctis an opening to slip up and lean against Gladio's side.

"Hey."

Ignis and Gladio had their... understanding. In the end, Noct was something vastly important to the both of them, in many ways. Whatever lied between himself and Ignis he wouldn't have put a name on it, even if pushed, because he damn well didn't know. But certain things had been discussed, agreed upon. Noct had been one of them.

Gladio looked down to Noct as ~~his savior~~ the other slid right up to him, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Hey." He gestured with his chin towards Ignis. "I don't think he's going anywhere soon." But he did glance around, a brow lifting. "Where's your little blond shadow?" A broad hand slipped around Noct, hidden by the crowd, and might have pushed things a little with a squeeze to his arse. Hadn't forgotten their text messages, after all.

"Yeah, doesn't really look like it. Careful. He may end up taking a liking to that guy over you," Noctis teased before shrugging. "No idea. He left before I woke up this morning. Probably running around taking pictures."

And hopefully not getting himself in trouble.

The feel of Gladio's hand slipping down and squeezing his arse like that has Noctis shifting, pressing closer to the other man's side as he gently elbows him.

"Don't start that here, asshole."

"I think I could take that guy," Gladio said with a faux hairy eyeball glance over the skinny man Ignis was chatting with before smirking easily, shaking his head. "Kid's a scrappy thing. Should be able to take care of himself as long as he stays inside the city."

Unsurprisingly, that elbowing got a laugh out of Gladio, low and just for the younger man beside him. "Well, where can I start it?" he winked, then used his grip to steer Noct away from Ignis and his cookbook club to head back in the vague direction of the hotel. "Unless, of course, you've got something else you wanna do right now?"

He arched an eyebrow in Noct's direction, offering his prince the option of doing... whatever, or to the hells with it, go back towards the hotel and have their fun until one of the others comes back. "Or are we waiting on Iggs?" Eyebrow waggle from a grin.

Noctis can't help but snort.

"I'm pretty sure you could take just about anyone," he drawled, glancing over at the man and Ignis as well. Hell, that guy probably couldn't even handle Ignis. His gaze shifts back to Gladio and he playfully rolls his eyes. "Assuming he stays in the city. You know how he gets when he gets the urge to take photos of something."

The prince allows himself to be steered along, enjoying the warmth of Gladio beside him, the press of his body against the older man's.

Yeah. They definitely needed to not be on the street.

"He can catch up," the prince murmured, lazily draping an arm around the other man's waist. "Let's go back to the hotel."

Ignis was a damn fine fighter, so no, he probably couldn't. The thought brought out a chuckle though, tilting his head to look down at Noct from the corner of his eye with an easy smirk on his lips. "Huh. Didn't realize my texts got you so riled up." The smirk grew and he picked up his pace, which knew it would force the shorter prince to speed walk to keep up.

Gladio walked into the room first, and the moment Noct had the door shut, he rounded on him, practically pinning him to it. "So, you saved me, hero. How do I repay you?" While it was clearly teasing, playful even, there was a glint in his eye and a husk in his voice that suggested Noct had a full range of 'rewards' due.

His head...

Gladio had groaned low as he started to come around, wincing as he picked himself partially off the ground and looked around. There was fire in the distance, sparks too close for comfort, and the horrible bulk of a broken train before him. It took a few seconds before the memories came back in a rush - trying to help Iggy to get over so they could go after Prompto, find the crystal... the shout, his own shout, warning, shoving Ignis as hard as he could to get him past-

Then nothing. Slowly bringing his hand up to his head and feeling a trickle of dried blood spoke volumes. Shit! A growl left Gladio before he stood, looking around. Oh hells no he was not letting those two go into danger without him there to protec them both. "NOCT! IGGY!" he shouted, but heard nothing in return.

That had been hours ago. Hells, it could have been twenty minutes ago but there is no way of telling time in this place. It all feels the same, night and day blurring together as he tries to move through what feels like endless metal coordidors and rooms that all look the same. Without the familiar weight of his sword or shield in hand, with the certain knowledge he can't even call on them, he's having to move slower than he would have liked, but his hopes, some of them, have remained. He can tell where Noct or Ignis or both of them have been, given opened doors and signs of fights, but for the last few hours, nothing. No signs of them at all. (Little does he know they've collapsed in a pair of bunks elsewhere, exhausted to their cores.)

But he keeps moving, drawing on a mix of his own strength and anger burning instead of desperate fear. What he doesn't know is that unknowingly, he is slowly moving closer to their missing member.

Chancellor Izunia entertains himself while he waits for the others to show up. And by "entertains himself", he really just dabbles in a little one-on-one torture so they're, as he puts it, officially past the acquaintance mark and now at the friend stage. When he gets bored of that, he...talks and maybe that's worse. He has these one-sided conversations about things that Prompto's too out of it to really digest, his quiet wheezing not loud enough to drown him out. Some of it sounds like it's personal and sometimes Ardyn even gets nostalgic, for a second almost like he's a normal human being.

Drained, hanging by wrists chaffed raw by the restrains, Prompto wishes he could force himself to pass out. Sure would be nice to shut Ardyn up. But since nothing in life is easy, he's more or less awake to listen to him go on and on and sip the lukewarm water that suddenly materializes in front of him in a tin cup. When he coughs it up on himself, unable to force it down, the Chancellor tuts like a disappointed parent.

Prompto isn't the most pissy guy out there but man.

He kinda hates Ardyn.

Prompto doesn't pick up on the sound of Gladio getting closer, not at first. Ardyn left a security feed on to taunt him, to track their progress and see the dramatic close encounters with the MTs. He spends a bit trying to doze off and conserve his energy, an animal part of him dreading the sound of footsteps because they usually mean it's the Chancellor back for more. These footsteps fall different. Whoever's there even breathes different. A reserve of strength he didn't know he had kicks in and Prompto actually lifts his head, feeling it loll weightlessly to the side like he can't quite control it. The stare he gives Gladio through the mask of cuts and bruises, the start of a black eye purpling his cheek, is unfocused, glassy.

"...Gladio?" Prompto doesn't sound jazzed. Mostly he sounds stunned, a little suspicious like he doesn't dare trust his eyes, voice wobbling and cracking.

Prompto.

It feels like that moment he saw Noct lying pale and still after the battle, when he'd found his unconscious king. It feels like the moment the doctors told him just how bad Ignis' condition was. Like Titan himself reaches out and wraps his hand around his chest, squeezing until the air leaves his lungs and his heart stops.

It's impossible not to think about the worst, what could have happened between the time Ignis looked up from his phone with a shake in his voice saying that there had been an accident (not an attack, none of them believes that) and Prompto had fallen from the train. (Or Noct's anger and sorrow at saying he had done it). Gladio hadn't been certain they would find Prompto alive, if he's honest with himself. It would have broken Noct to find Prompto's body somewhere, after such a fight to get their friend back.

Inside, there's a stirring of something that he can't quite name, something different than the anger that's been sustaining him in the face of everything that's happened to them, something infinitely more subtle and slow to understand. There'll be time later. Right now, just keep going. One step at a time. A soldier doesn't give up.

Seeing the obvious damage, the less obvious damage in those eyes, only makes Gladio uncertain that death might have been the worse option. "Prompto." He finds his voice again, getting the cell door open and moving in there. "Shit, kid. Just- hang on a sec." He looks over the restraints, then reaches up for the first one. There's no denying that Prompto looks halfway dead, so he throws an arm over the other's chest to keep him up while he undoes the second. "I gotcha. I gotcha." Almost more to himself.

Prompto needs a moment for relief to process and to run through the How To's of Smiling.

He's still staring at Gladio, eyes glittering behind a mask of grime and blood, as the first restraint creaks open at the wrist and his hand flops down. For a moment he's able to get it around Gladio's shoulder for support - the next second he loses whatever control he had and it slides, boneless, down his back. His next attempt is a bit better with his hand able to grip against the other man as he slides free of Ardyn's fun rack. A hiss escapes through Prompto's teeth as there's a moment of resistance and something pops out his back: what looks like a thick IV line drops down to splatter some kind of translucent blue fluid across the floor, the long needle gleaming as it swings to a stop.

"My hero," Prompto mumbles. His chapped lips try to rise into a smile and don't quite get there. He loops his arm around the back of Gladio's neck, trying to make it easier even though he knows how strong the guy is and that he could've probably lifted him, no problem, if it wasn't for the fact his whole body felt like it was made of noodles. "Man, I hope you had leg day."

His words come out slurred and a hair above a hoarse whisper but the relief he feels blooms and seems to spread across a body that seems like so much dead weight as he clings to Gladio for support. Feels the tension of his muscles in his neck and shoulders. Picks up that familiar scent of his leather jacket that feels like home, whether it was the hints of it from the Regali'sa backseat or whenever they were crammed together in the tent. He hadn't realized how much he took it for granted until now.

(Prompto doesn't ask about Noct. Not yet. Maybe he's just being a coward, but...)

He manages to access that energy reserve from before, this time using it to get his legs under him so he isn't trying to strangle Gladio with his body weight.

"Can't stay here," Prompto swallows, trying to work moisture back into his mouth around the metallic tang of old blood. "He'll come back."

Edited (typo fixing part 2) 2017-04-13 00:22 (UTC)

Fuck. He hadn't thought- Gladio's eyes tracked the swing of the needle before another bubble of anger rose and threatened to burst into a blind rage, but the horror and his worry barely kept it in check. What had they been doing to Prompto!? What was that stuff!?

"Every day is leg day," Gladio murmurs, more just to keep Prompto talking than anything else. It was so easy to hold up that thin body, too damn thin for his liking, but to feel Prompto fight to get up to his feet made his heart swell and his chest tighten. Kid is all heart, always trying to keep going. "I gotcha. I gotcha."

When Prompto is completely free, he knows it might be a slight against Prompto's pride, but he doesn't give a shit. Not when the blond looks a step from death's door. He reaches down and scoops Prompto up like a bride, holding the younger man to his chest. "Ardyn." He knows who it has to be. If he ever sees that man again... he would tear him apart with his bare hands before this.

Now he wants to see him suffer. "Just hang on. Just- I know somewhere we can hide for a while." He hopes he can remember the way back to one of those damn bunk rooms because right now, Prompto needs somewhere safe. They need to find Noct and Iggy.

He needs to protect all of them.

Prompto isn't a fan of being carried bridal-style; reminds him of how short he is, how the whole prisoner thing made him weak in front of Gladio. When the other option is figuring out to walk, though, with the huge task of putting one foot in front of the other, he'll suck it up just this once. Besides, there's something that he doesn't mind as he's cradled against Gladio, feeling his chest rise and fall, the warmth of his skin pressing against his cheek. For the first time in what feels like forever, he feels safe enough to close his eyes and drift off to the sound of his friend's familiar footsteps.

He wakes up to the sound of beeping and a set of doors hissing open. Prompto stirs against Gladio, his head lifting as he comes back to the land of the living. The brightness of the dorm's light hits him like a wall, his face scrunching as he makes a low, uncomfortable noise. One hand balls in Gladio's jacket as if he wants to grope for the light switch.

" - that's bright. What's that, the power of the sun?" Prompto chimes up from where he'd been silent against Gladio a few minutes ago, voice still cracking at the edges, slightly stronger than before.

He doesn't exactly squirm out away like a fish, but he does reach up to flop a hand over his eyes to try to shade them, squinting through his eyelashes and wondering how long it'll take to adjust. Spending days - weeks? Who even knows? - cooped up in the dimly lit cells means he finds the safety of the dorm's fluorescents way too hardcore for his tastes.

"Sorry." He hadn't thought much about it, but right now it's the least important thing. Prompto gets laid down with a tenderness people might not have expected out of the big man, his hand coming up to brush some of the blond strands back from Prompto's face, looking down over the damage done. There's so much of it. The bruising looks so much worse set against Prompto's pale coloring, but it all speaks of days of torture. What was that fluid that had been being pumped into Prompto? What had Ardyn done?

"Just keep your eyes closed." From his pocket he pulls out one of the few potions he has left, away from Noct's ability to make more, but he'd found machines full of potions and remedies. Those... he doesn't trust as much as Noct's, so he cracks it open and slides a hand under Prompto's head, nudging the cool edge of the energy drink to his lips. "Need you to drink this for me, got it? Slow and steady. We're safe here." One door to defend and that's locked, so it's about as safe as it's going to get at this point.

His thumb moves softly against the back of Prompto's neck, ignoring the tightness in his chest. If he could do every bit of damage to Ardyn that the madman had done to Prompto... he would do it a thousand times over.

Reluctantly he squeezes them shut, as ordered, and tries to get used to lying on the dorm's bunk. It feels almost too soft. Same could be said for Gladio's gentle touch, Prompto not proud to say that he flinches slightly out of instinct when his thumb rubs over his cheek. He breathes out a quiet "sorry, nerves" because the last thing he wants is his friend thinking it's him. It isn't. It really isn't. He's just hopped up on nerves and the thing is, when your only company around here was Ardyn, you need a few minutes to get used to a friend's touch.

Maybe more than a friend. They'd kinda left off at a funny place before the train.

Prompto doesn't seem like he wants to deal with the potion. Too much work to swallow. Pulling a face, he starts to turn his head away until Gladio says the magic words. Do it for him. That gets a muted reaction from Prompto in the form of a sigh as he tries to do what he asked. It isn't easy, and he swears half of the drink ends up all over his neck and chest, but some of it makes it into his mouth. It slides down his throat, chilled, sweet and carbonated because that's how the Imperials apparently roll with their versions of potions. Sputters turn to coughs wracking his frame.

He realizes with a start that he's suddenly hanging onto Gladio, his fingers tight around his wrist with a dead man's relentless grip. He knows Gladio can take it and more, no problem. Man's built like a tank. Guilt still wells up and he forces his fingers to unlock, hoping he didn't bruise the guy.

"Let's...try again later," Prompto says weakly. "Could you bring me up to speed?"