iwillshieldhim | The World We Fought For [for fieryknowledge]

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The World We Fought For [for fieryknowledge]

It was oddly calm in those last moments, a peace that came over him as he fought purely on muscle memory against the massive giant trying to smash him. Somewhere behind him, he could hear Prompto, not just the sound of gun fire, but it sounded like he was screaming, over and over, as he fought. Wordless angry shouts that if he had the time to think, to care beyond second to second of just surviving, would have torn him apart. The sound of pain, of loss, of anger. He'd lost track of Ignis, always so silent, and he feared the worst. He tried to look anyway, find his love in the chaos. Make sure he was still-

Second to second, he shouldn't have looked away. The giant found its opening as Gladio's eyes scanned the wreckage, trying to spot Ignis in all of it. The fear in his heart settled when he spotted the other, still up, still fighting, even as the massive blade slammed under his guard and sent him flying to hit the ground hard. A spike of pain screamed in his shoulder, but he barely noticed.

They had turned their back on Noct to let him die, walking forward to their fates knowing they would do the same. All they had to do was hold on long enough, just long enough to let him truly become the Chosen King. Gladio had accepted what would come, and while he thought Ignis knew, in a way, he was content with this. He had protected Noct until the end. Ignis might still live.

The giant raised its blade, and try as he might, Gladio couldn't get his own blade to lift. It wouldn't be possible on that broken shoulder. He stared up at his death, then let out a breath. ...I kept my promise.

I love you, Iggy.

Let there be light.

It came across the skies like a needle thrust into the heart of the darkness itself, a shaft of light so brilliant and golden that it hurt the eyes. The giants roar hurt almost as much, stabbing into his head until he was forced to close his eyes.

unconscious

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"True enough. Love does have a habit of making someone stronger than they believe."

He'd already resolved to do everything in his power to see that Prompto and Noctis were as happy as possible. If this truly was a second chance, there would be no squandering it. Not for any of them. It might not be easy, but they'd done harder things.

The idea of Gladio's pulled a quick, wan smile to Ignis' lips as he let his head tip back while his mind wandered a little.

"Another road trip. We could stay at Galdin Quay for a while. There's that haven just off the beach... I imagine it's beautiful now that the sun's up again."

That statement made Gladio wonder - had Ignis gotten through the beginning of his blindness because of their love? No, he decided a moment after that thought. Ignis was a strong man in of his own right; he would have gotten through no matter what. ...A little help from his friends probably came in measure, though.

He could remember that haven well. Tucked up there because they couldn't afford the caravan, never mind the hotel, it had been paradise in his book. A roaring campfire, the sound of the ocean all around them, the sand and grass right at their feet... he let out a quiet sigh of memory. "Yeah," he said warmly as he carefully drew the skin together after tying a firm knot in the thread. The black, strong material would look ugly against Ignis' skin, but better than the open wounds.

"You remember what you made there the first time?" They had took on a hunt of some big ass crabs, and the meal Ignis had made that night out of their meat had been beyond compare. The first pinprick came of the needle, and Gladio began to sew the first channel shut as delicately as he could, trying to remember how Ignis always did it.

It had certainly helped, even if Gladio had been a handful of his own just after Altissia and the rest of them shaken to the core. Ignis had been strong long before that, had found himself and his own self-confidence at a young ago though there were still moments when that wavered.

That memory was a welcome one. There'd been a peace there that Ignis hadn't felt in many other places. Watching the water as he enjoyed the warmth of the fire and the companionship of his family around it. Of course he remembered. Hells, he even remembered how to make it and quietly promised himself that he'd find a way to do it again if he could.

"Th- the curry. I thought it might've been too heavy at first."

As he spoke, he started to tense up a bit, trying to breathe his way through the pain.

Gladio... tried, hard, not to think of Altissia too much. It still gave him horrific nightmares, things he never wanted to think of again. Like finding Ignis among the rubble, the bloody smear that had been his face, the utter stillness of his body that had made him think he'd been too late. He still didn't know exactly what happened, but he never would stop the guilt that rose when he should have been there. Evacuees should never have been more important.

"No, it was perfect. That whole thing about... what, complimenting the crab?" See, Iggy? He at least sort of listened when you talked about cooking. It always made him smile in the past when Ignis would get into the depths of something he was passionate about, even if he didn't always follow.

Gladio knew there was nothing else he could do except do the best job he could while not taking too long, either. So he worked the best he could with one hand, growling quietly for Ignis to keep his hands in place to keep the flesh together.

Ignis had never told Gladio what had happened and he never would. Not when the truth would only pull up helpless, pointless anger in his lover. There was never a 'right time' for that and there never would be.

He managed a shaky smile for Gladio, his hands almost slipping as they tried to hold fast so Gladio could work as quickly as he could manage. At this point, he was almost willing to sacrifice some of his mobility and use a potion on the damned wound just to make it stop hurting-

"I'll teach- I'll teach you how to cook it next time."

He knew how bad this was, however he wasn't going to let Ignis sacrifice anything more when they already were this far. So he kept going, finishing off the first channel and completing it with a slightly rough knot, using his teeth to cut the thread with some effort.

"You sure you wanna try teach me cooking? I mean, I'm not Noct," who tended towards burning anything he tried to cook, "but I'm never gonna be you. Hell, Prompto's better at cooking than me." It was almost a joke, but he started on the next channel as soon as Ignis' hands moved over to it.

His head was bent now, each breath a slow hiss of protest as he worked to remain as still as he could when all his body wanted to do was pull away. Still, this was something he could manage and he knew that Gladio would work quickly, for his sake.

"Well... it's good you've... got me around to cook for you then."

His voice was low now, his breathing quickening.

"I'm damn grateful. If we had to live off my cooking, I'm pretty sure we'd all starve." The fact that Ignis could cook with nearly anything had probably saved them more than once in the last ten years as food became scarce, until people had figured out green houses and lights and other things to try and keep the survivors fed.

He hated the fact he was hurting Ignis to save his thigh. It didn't mean he stopped, working down the second channel.

"Besides... who else could deal with Noct, as picky as he is? He needs you." No matter what came out of the next few days, they were all going to need each other. Badly.

There was a low, shaky laugh from Ignis. Gladio wasn't as bad as he thought, but learning to make do in a world with no light would've been a challenge to anyone. That was why he'd done his best to stay by settlements, knowing that he was needed.

He was starting to sweat now, his hands growing paler and paler as the seconds ticked by. The hissing had stopped, replaced by a low groan of protest.

"I'll get him to ea- eat carrots one day. I swear it."

It hadn't been easy in every sense those words could exist in. Gladio had often gone out with hunting parties, unable to stay in one place too long. Every time he tried to settle down for any length of time, eventually his anger would get the best of him and he would do something stupid, say something stupider, and leave. Always to return, always coming home to Ignis, but... sometimes it had been for long periods. Ones where he stayed at Havens and worked to try and control himself but always felt less in control until he worked through whatever was bothering him then... or his anger worked itself out.

He only prayed that Ignis would be able to handle the last one as he tied off the second channel, then decided to hell with it. This was going to be the worst job, probably the ugliest of the scars, but he couldn't do this at all without Ignis to hold the skin together. So this time, he was going faster.

"If anyone could, it's you. Prompto sure isn't helping you, though, even if that kid will at least anything you put in front of him like he's starving." He licked his lips, tasting salt (blood? sweat? he wasn't sure anymore) and focused not on the shake in his lover's hands or voice but what was right in front of him.

Those times had been the hardest. Hearing those familiar steps walking away, leaving him unsure if they'd return. Sometimes, he wondered if some daemon had felled his lover, and others he wondered if it was his own anger. There were times when he was sure that he wasn't coming back at all, and not because he'd been killed. Everyone in the settlements knew then, when Ignis withdrew from their tight-knit little communities, what was going on. In time, he adapted. He learned to live without his sight and in time, he learned to fight without it. He worked to defend who he could and save the ones he couldn't, but it all seemed so hollow.

It still seemed hollow, as if he were waiting for something else to be taken from him. For those achingly familiar footsteps to walk away again, never to return...

Ignis had gone silent now, his fingers trembling as they worked to keep the gaped skin closed so that Gladio could fix them in place.

It wasn't kind of him. Really, he wouldn't have blamed Ignis if the other had drawn away from him completely for being the ass he was. He tried. Fuck, he had tried. Sometimes it just... came out. The rage that was always there inside of him, burning just under the surface, and Ignis did so damn much, so much more than he knew, to keep it where it belonged. Until not even that was enough.

It never stopped him from loving Ignis. Every time he returned home, he tried to show that. In the desperate way they came together, in the sweetness of his hands and mouth and voice, in the rough snap of his hips and the marks he left on pale skin. He never was great with his words when it came to this sort of stuff, so he showed how he could.

"Almost done, almost done..." His speed showed in the decidedly uglier way the stitches were being left behind, but it was enough to close the skin, to reduce the horrible amount of scar tissue that would have been left if they chose not to go with the stitches.

When he was done, he used some of the clean water from the sink and wiped everything clean, then sat back and looked up to Ignis. That... wasn't even the worse part. The burns would be significantly so. And he didn't even realize he himself was breathing hard thanks to being bent over, the pain-pressure put on what were now bruised, not broken, ribs, thanks to the concentrated potion.

And Ignis never stopped loving Gladio, though there was a fracture between them now. Ignis knew it really wasn't Gladio's doing, but there was only so long that even Ignis Scientia could go it alone. Altissia had left them battered, but the long night had left them brittle in so many ways. It was like the leftover ache of a old injury, healed long ago but always so keen on leaving painful reminders at the most unexpected of times.

A shaky hand moved to trace along the freshly stitched injuries before he reached to settle his hand flush against the wall, clearly seeking support.

"Rather unpleasant."

The fracture didn't surprise him. He believed it was his fault, and he... he tried. Even if he knew he couldn't really fix the wrong he had done. It had been made all that much worse when Prompto had left and gone to live in Hammerhead. Poor kid. He'd seriously felt for the blond over those years, didn't know how he handled it. Cindy had suggested very badly, sometimes.

Sigh.

"...Yeah." He took a breath, running a hand through his wet hair, and finally said bluntly, "we need to do your back. That shit's gotta get scrubbed out of there before we do a potion or it'll heal with all that in it."

In the end, Noctis really hadbeen the thing that had bound them all. When he was taken, they fell apart. It was shameful and Ignis, try as he might, hadn't been able to do anything about it. He hadn't been enough.

"Just... leave it. It'll heal. I can deal with it."

Gladio would have disagreed, though Prompto would have nodded in understanding. To Gladio, it hadn't been Noct that had bound them together. Brought them together, yes. They were friends, and brothers, and that wasn't so easily broken.

What almost destroyed them was the loss of Noct, the way it all went down. Different, Gladio would have pointed out, than just if he had for some reason left. The loss had been as physical as a blow to the chest for them all, breaking bone and sinew and muscle along the way and leaving terrible scars. The unknowing, the confusion, the frustration, the fear... they all had dug in their claws and tore away at them in very individual ways.

"It'll heal, but it'll heal badly." Gladio's tone was quiet, but firm, watching Ignis' face closely. "If there's something we can do about it, it's gotta be done. Same as my shoulder, same as Prompto's face when we wake him up. ...I'll... I'll do it as quickly as I can."

"Please. Just-"

Even now, he knew when Gladio was watching him. He could remember times when he'd preen under that gaze know that he'd have an appreciative audience. Other times, it'd been uncomfortable since Gladio was the one that knew him best. Now, he slowly tipped his face away from that knowing gaze.

Gladio was right. It had to be done. Licking at dry lips, he nodded briefly as if he actually had a choice in the matter.

His fingers came up and touched Ignis' cheek. He knew. He knew. He looked into the tub and started to refill it with cool water again with his little rigged system. Cool water which would numb some of the pain of the stitches and be a hell of a lot nicer on those burns than the warm water had been.

"We're gonna have to wake Prompto up after this," Gladio said off-handedly, filling the silence as the tub filled. "He can't just leave those open wounds sit like that." Though he had been smart enough to sleep on the other side. "Probably the shock's knocked him out so hard."

He needs the rest.

It would be cruel to wake him so soon.

He won't leave Noct's side yet and you know it.

So many unsaid thoughts on the edge of Ignis' tongue, but he remained silent. Again, Gladio was right. Gladio's kindness was welcome and helped to settle Ignis a bit, but that pained tension still held fast to his shoulders and undoubtedly, his back.

"I'll handle Prom when it's time. You need to rest your shoulder as much as possible for now."

Ignis wasn't wrong, either, but until they were at least somewhat healed up, they couldn't afford to be entirely kind. Like right now, as Gladio slid an arm under Ignis and touched their foreheads together before helping him back into the tub. "Lay back. Get those burns soaking." They had to soak some of that crusted blood and skin and who knew what else or everything was going to be so much worse.

Besides, he needed to grab the potion. He wanted to get through the scrub and into the potion as fast as possible for Ignis' sake. It was going to be rough and he was going to have to steel-heart his way through it, for the long run.

His undershirt had been a loss even before the tub and the bare chest showed a decade worth of scars. He knew that Gladio would be even worse, but even now, there was no real shame in them. He'd earned them honorably and would do so again if he had to.

Leaning back was bad enough, but the moment he settled back into the water, the nerves in his back lit up almost as violently as they had when the Bomb had attacked him from behind. This time, he could't keep quiet. The sound rolling in the back of Ignis' throat wasn't a groan or a curse, it was a whimper.

For Gladio, scars spoke of strength. Ignis' in particular, an even greater strength. Ignis could still fight, even blinded, something that amazed, and frightened, Gladio every time he witnessed it. He didn't understand how it was possible for Ignis to be able to strike, never mind that he could still avoid incoming attacks with incredible dexterity. It had taken time, and damage, to become capable again. So many scars, in particular with how rare potions were. Yeah, he carried his own. They both remapped the network of scars every time they came together.

That whimper. Fuck. It went straight through him, a dagger right into his heart, as he stroked Ignis' cheek, his chest, anything in an attempt to distract. "Take it however you can, babe. I've got you, right here. Not going anywhere."

Once they'd had a chance to sleep and remind themselves that the night was over, he'd let his fingers drift along Gladio's skin, calloused warmth tracing each ridge of damage he found. If the mood and time was right, the thickest would earn kisses and murmured praise. It was a ritual that Ignis had grown familiar with over the years and would likely continue even now.

Not even Gladio's voice was enough to focus on at the moment as he grew paler and paler by the second. His head sank back, hair drifting in the shallow water as he shook his head, his milky eye clenched closed. A shaking hand rose to find Gladio, fingers grasping at any part of him they could find.

They all needed to go sit in the sun. For hours, and hours, and maybe go sleep in the sun. Soak in that heat, even if it sets them to burn on their pale skin. Just to relish in the light they had lost.

This will be a generation that, like children, is afraid of the dark.

Gladio leaned down and gave Ignis his good shoulder to squeeze, needing his arm and hand to be able to watch carefully. Eventually, the coolness of the water will win over the anger of anything at all touching the burn, which was what Gladio was waiting for. "Right here. Right here," he murmured over and over, kneeling there by the tub and watching Ignis carefully, ready to rescue him if he went down.

Right here. Right here-

Ignis grasped at those words like a drowning man clutching at whatever he could reach. He managed a shaky nod before a mumbled apology slid free from his pale lips. Not ten seconds later and he started to go limp, his hand sliding bonelessly away from Gladio's shoulder.

So much for strength and will. Even the firmest resolution couldn't withstand the weaknesses of the body sometime.

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