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.
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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.