Noctis was slumped down in his train seat, eyes stuck fast to the floor. Gladio had just stomped away, having thrown out one last bitter comment. Something to do with Noctis being a coward. Now Noctis was rolling the ring around in his right hand, nimble fingers moving it up and down.
Prompto looked like he wanted to jump off the train to escape the misery which had befallen their group, while Ignis just looked tired.
Ignis took in a breath to speak. Noctis stood up suddenly.
"I need some air," he muttered.
Ignis let out a soft sigh. Prompto watched Noctis walk away, a frown marring his face.
"Are we gonna be okay?" Prompto asked softly, eyes turning to the passing scenery.
"Beg your pardon?" Ignis asked, pulled from his own internal thoughts.
"I mean, with everything in Altissia, your eyes, Lunafreya, Ardyn. We're not going to be the same, are we?"
Ignis was quiet a moment.
"Each moment we are different than the moment before. If you mean that you think this will break us, then I believe that there is more hope than you think. We are more than just this moment."
Ignis sounded so sure, so absolute in his belief. Prompto's lips quirked in a small, weak, yet genuine smile.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Prompto said.
"No guessing Prompto, we've too far to go for that," Ignis murmured.
Prompto nodded his head. He sat for a few minutes, contemplating. Side glancing at Ignis, Prompto fidgeted a little in his seat. Another minute passed and he kept fidgeting.
"You can go Prompto, I may be handicap now but I am not totally invalid. I'm sure I can manage sitting here just fine."
"I-" Prompto's mouth gaped, and opened and shut like a fish.
He let out a small snort of incredulity.
"How did you know?" Prompto asked, totally baffled.
"As I said, I am not totally invalid," Ignis replied.
Prompto flushed, stood up and turned to go before looking back at Ignis. Ignis was staring straight ahead, both hands poised atop his cane. Prompto's face squished up and he danced between his feet before finally heading in the direction Noctis had disappeared to.
Ignis let out a soft sigh.
Noctis was trying, he was, really. He knew he was a brat, that he'd been raised in absolute wealth with people at his beck and call, and made to answer to his whim. He knew that he'd been coddled into his current position, that even as he worked to restore his kingdom, his friends and people were sacrificing everything. He knew he was a coward because every time he thought of his destiny, of gaining the rest of the Gods' favor and his ancestors' weapons he was terrified. Gladio was right, he almost always was.
Noctis even knew that he was selfish, he always had been, demanding his father's time, being lazy and flippant about a future so many lives were dependent on, grieving when Ignis, Prompto, Gladio, Iris, Talcott and so many more had pushed on instead of grieving.
The problem was that Noctis wasn't as good as them, he was weaker, a coward, he was trying to push past his grief, push past the horrible guilt which weighed on him, and he couldn't. The Ring of the Lucii lay in his pocket, a mantle he was terrified to take on, and he knew he was so very selfish to not put it on.
So as Ignis opened his mouth, preparing to say something kind and placating, Noctis had realized he couldn't hear it, he didn't deserve to hear it. Maybe Gladio's words cut him deeply, but at least they were the truth, at least they weren't excuses.
Noctis fought back tears that were welling up, shoving them down and under. He glanced about to see that he was nearly past the passenger cars. The next car was for cargo and storage. Noctis saw that a couple were eyeing him, a smattering of conversation drifting through the car, a little boy talking excitedly about something out his window. Noctis needed quiet, and space.
Moving forward, Noctis headed for the storage car. It was cool, the lights off and sparse sunlight filtering in through the windows. Noctis felt the reprieve of silence and isolation wash over him and he settled on someone's large suitcase.
"Well, well, well, pouting are we? Not very befitting of a King, now is it," Ardyn let out an exaggerated 'tut-tut'.
Noctis froze, anger and icy rage seeming to be injected into his veins. He threw himself to his feet and spun around. It was Ardyn, manner haughty and unconcerned as it always seemed to be. Noctis summoned a dagger from the Armiger without a second thought and lunged forward. Ardyn sidestepped him and threw Noctis to the ground.
Noctis landed hard. There was a flash of pain throughout his body and Noctis found that he couldn't stand up, body completely weak.
"Despite your, lack, in Kingly values you've proved to be a thorn in my side time and time again."
Ardyn knelt beside Noctis, lips turned up in a condescending, smug little grin. Noctis wanted to scream at him and throttle the man, but his body didn't respond, the pain returning and seeming to grow throughout every nerve and tendon in his body.
"I can't have you making problems, but I can't have you dead yet. The time will come, but in the meantime I need you occupied and not looking for those little toothpicks of your ancestors' and gaining anymore favor from our dear Six."
Noctis gasped, his lungs seeming to be folding in on themselves. The pain grew worse and overwhelmed him, black biting into his vision and overtaking it. Ardyn disappeared and pain was all Noctis knew until he fell into unconsciousness.
Prompto walked through all the passenger cars, twice, and Noctis wasn't in any of them. That left the storage cars, something he didn't really see Noctis going into. He was concerned though, and decided that checking couldn't hurt. Opening the storage car door, Prompto peered about. It was dark, not ventilated as the other cars and therefore quite chilly. It caused Prompto's mind to wander to darkness and the cheesy horror movies he'd forced Noctis to watch and which both of them were terrified of even if Noctis denied it.
"Noct?" Prompto hazarded.
There was no response. Then, Prompto heard it: breathing. Prompto shuddered, heart rate accelerating. This was the part in the movie where the main person sneaking around should turn tail and run, the part where they don't and end up dying some terrible death from an unspeakable horror.
"It's not a movie, it's not a movie," Prompto muttered under his breath, slowly edging his way towards the sound.
Something moved, Prompto could hear it, the shift of monster claws or zombie limbs.
"It's fine, it's fine, you'll be fine," Prompto said to himself, more frantic than before.
Turning the corner of a stack of luggage, Prompto prepared himself for the worst.
It was a child. They were surrounded by a small bunch of black clothing and they were pale with black hair. In fact, they looked uncannily similar to-. Prompto's eyes went wide and he took a few quick short steps forward, crouching down. The boy was unconscious and the clothes were Noctis'.
"Noctis?" Prompto said, staring in amazement at the scene before him.
The boy stirred and blue eyes raised to peer in dazed confusion at Prompto.
"Prom?" The child's voice was weak, a baby bird flutter of sound.
Prompto went pale, falling back on his butt.
"Oh shit! Noctis!? It's really you!" Prompto said, looking his friend up and down with panicked wonderment.
"Prom, wha-" Noctis lifted himself from his position, arms trembling.
His mouth gaped a little, as if he were too breathless to speak and his brow pinched in confusion. He went even paler as he sat up and his eyes rolled back. He slumped against the ring of clothing unconscious.
Prompto sat there, absolutely stunned.
"Oh man, I gotta tell someone, I gotta-I gotta-" Prompto was trying to form a cohesive thought but nothing was happening.
Finally he shook his head, pushing it into his hands. He needed to think, for Noctis' sake. Who would know what to do with this? Ignis. Ignis always knew what to do.
Prompto lifted his head and tentatively reached out for Noctis. He laid his hand on Noctis' head but the boy didn't stir. Finally, Prompto moved forward and shifted the clothing. Noctis was still wearing his shirt, but that was it and the thing practically left him swimming in material. Noctis was friggin' tiny. Prompto wrapped Noctis up in the cast aside jacket and then he grabbed the remaining clothes and boots. Noctis was still unconscious. Prompto shifted the boy so he was draped across him, head resting in the crook of Prompto's neck.
Prompto headed back toward their car. When he arrived he saw that Gladio had returned, looking as churlish as before. Ignis also looked less happy and Prompto had a feeling that the two had spoken.
"What the hell Prompto?" Gladio said, standing up as he took in Prompto carrying a child in his arms while carting around all of Noctis' clothes.
"Uh," Prompto grinned in a nervous tic.
"What is it?" Ignis asked, brow furrowed and his head turning in the direction of the noise.
"Whose kid is that?!" Gladio bowled over any response Prompto might have had.
"What's happened?" Ignis asked, more urgently this time.
"Why are you carrying Noctis' clothes around? Is that idiot making you cover for him again?!"
Prompto took a step back, feeling a little overwhelmed by Gladio's intense barrage and Ignis' added, though much more calm, approach. He barely realized Noctis was stirring until the boy's head lifted and turned toward the noise.
Gladio was dead silent, his face pale and shocked. Ignis still was absolutely lost.
"Gladio? Is that you?" Noctis' voice was still faint and weak, his limbs taking up a tremble again.
Ignis let out a gasp and was soon staring, though sort of in the wrong direction, at Noctis. Prompto let out a weak little chuckle that sounded more like a whimper. He'd seen this going differently, maybe better? Or worse? Or just different, one which involved him not being at the center of it all.
Noctis' head wobbled and he turned to look at Prompto. His eyes were glazed over and Prompto suddenly realized that Noctis felt a lot warmer than he should.
"M'gonna barf, Prom," Noctis said, sounding a strange mix between little child and twenty year old Noct announcing he was going to go to sleep before then practically collapsing: unconcerned and factual.
Noctis, to his credit, did try to lean away so he didn't get Prompto in the line of fire, but the vomit still ended up splattered all over Prompto's left arm and down his side and leg. Most of it landed on his left shoe.
"Gross," Prompto said in a faint voice, keeping pace with a conversation he might have had if a twenty year old Noctis had puked all over him, except he was holding a toddler sized version of his best friend and trying to pretend like this wasn't the weirdest shit he'd ever been a part of.
Noctis leaned his head back against Prompto's shoulder, his breath stertorous against Prompto's neck.
"Sorry," Noctis whispered, sounding genuinely apologetic, pathetically so.
Prompto was at a loss for words.
"How tall is he?" Ignis asked.
Prompto stared in bewilderment at Ignis. Of all the questions a person could have, how did height factor in as important?
"Uh, I don't know, laid on me his feet are 'bout a little below hip level?" Prompto answered in a question, not sure if his estimation was even in the ballpark of being right.
Gladio was still standing there, staring.
"Four," Ignis said after a moment of thought. "He must be four. He always was rather small for his age growing up. He's ill, we should go to the bathroom and get him cleaned up."
"I think I need to be cleaned up more than him," Prompto replied, glancing down at the sick that now covered him.
Noctis bleated another soft 'sorry'.
"Very well," Ignis replied. "Gladio, take him, I'll follow you to the bathroom and we'll get him cleaned up there."
Gladio finally seemed to snap out of his stupor. He gave a terse nod and stepped toward Noctis with a fierce glower on his face. Prompto hesitated to hand over Noctis, but he was covered in vomit and Noctis was sick.
Gladio roughly took Noctis, folding the boy over his arm. Prompto thought it looked super uncomfortable for Noctis, but it would probably keep Gladio from being vomited on. Noctis' head rolled and he looked like a little rag doll in Gladio's grasp.
Ignis put a hand out which Gladio grabbed and set on his arm. The trio then set out for the bathroom. Prompto sighed, setting Noctis' somehow clean clothes (the little bastard had aimed, Prompto was sure of it) on the train seat before heading in the direction of the other bathroom.
Ignis was blind, and though he despised the utter lack of control in his world, the black void which was perpetually his vision, he had started to come to some sort of terms with it. It didn't mean he was sure of his ability to stay with his Prince, his King, and he dreaded the day would come in which it would be better for them to set him to the side. Still, he had accepted this.
Now though, now he was very not okay with being blind. As far as he could gather Noctis was magically (he assumed) a four year old version of himself and Ignis had no ability to care for him.
The walk to the bathroom felt like a lifetime, Ignis fervently wishing he could see Noctis, feel him, make sure that the Prince was safe and sound. The only thing he could feel was the tightness of Gladio's arm, the tension there betrayed by a slight tremor of fear. Gladio was a difficult man to reason with, and though he had no great difficulty taking in any faults he had, he was unable to accept them, he always rectified them. They were in a position now where mistakes, faults, even just damn fate with its idea of bloody tragedy, could not be rectified.
Gladio blamed himself more than he blamed Noctis, which was why the man felt he had to push the Prince so hard. He was doing the same to himself and worse. Of course it didn't make it any easier to watch, or in this case hear, and it didn't change the fact that this new 'development' was just another thing Gladio had little control over.
They arrived at the bathroom, Gladio pushing the door open and holding it open for Ignis. Ignis awkwardly stumbled inside after Gladio. It was a tight fit, but Ignis was able to reach Noctis and that was what mattered.
His fingers met with Noctis' head, the crown of it where black hair fluttered like bird down, feathery and soft. The heat was felt through his gloves and Ignis knew Noctis was running a fever. His hand slipped down to come up against Noctis' forehead. It was just as warm, but now tiny, cupped in his palm. Ignis remembered being seven years old and meeting the little five year old for the first time, his Prince. He'd memorized everything about the boy, studied a spreadsheet of facts from monthly weight/height to little drawings collected by the nursemaids from the absent boy's hand. Even now the numbers and little facts stood in his mind as if branded by hot steel.
"Iggy?" Noctis whispered, his breaths short and strained.
"Right here," Ignis murmured back.
Noctis let out a weak whimper and said nothing more.
Ignis raised his other hand and felt Noctis' shoulders, frail little bones holding together a wisp of a child. There was no muscle, not as there had been on the twenty year old, this Noctis was terribly fragile. The implications hit Ignis hard and he knew that this wasn't an accident, it was intentional and it was a hard blow. Noctis was rendered practically impotent and was extremely vulnerable.
Ignis felt Gladio's arm when he went further and realized the man had folded the child over his arm.
"You're putting pressure on his chest and sternum, it's too much for his lungs, he's not breathing properly."
Ignis snapped it out, not meaning to, but the sudden fear and anger startled him. Why wasn't Gladio being more careful with Noctis, especially when he was in this form? Gladio let out a grunt and adjusted Noctis, guiding the boy so he rested in the crook of Gladio's arm, his head now resting against the man's chest.
Ignis could immediately hear Noctis' breathing become better.
"Who did this?" Gladio asked, voice low and rough.
Ignis shook his head, wishing he could see as he felt Noctis over for injury. There was nothing, but the boy's scars were present, scars which did not exist on him when he was this age. Ignis had no idea what that boded for them. The large scar on his chest, what would have been fatal from the Leviathan's attack and wasn't because of Lady Lunafreya, was also still there, not as tough or old as the others and sickeningly large.
Noctis shifted.
"Ardyn," the boy breathed out.
Ignis felt disgust and fear rise in him. Of course, Ardyn would be cruel and sick enough to do something like this. At least, Ignis thought, the man hadn't killed Noctis.
"M'sorry," Noctis said, voice hitching a little.
It was said to both of them. Ignis felt like cursing, as if Noctis was to be blamed for this happening? No one would have thought Ardyn had followed them onto the train, nor that he would accost Noctis in such a strange manner.
"Nothing to be sorry about," Ignis said briskly, moving back and realizing that there wasn't much else he could do, he felt useless.
Gladio let out a soft 'humph' which Ignis read as disagreement. Ignis tapped down his ire. Now wasn't the time to argue with Gladio about the difference between reality and what they all preferred. He also had no patience for the man's guilt, nor Noctis' for that matter. They just didn't have time or the emotional capacity to bear the weight.
"We should return, make sure we have water and the correct medical supplements. We should get off as soon as possible, I don't doubt there are some who know of our destination and it would be best that we don't let them meet us like this. If his fever grows worse, we'll need to consult a doctor."
Gladio let out another grunt. Ignis waited for Gladio. Gladio grabbed Ignis' hand and set it on his arm, pushing the bathroom door open so they could leave.
The three began their walk back down the train compartment, Gladio cradling Noctis in one arm and guiding Ignis in the other. The men were dressed in their casual wear in order to avoid attracting unwanted attention.
"Oh, the poor dear!" A woman, middle aged and with hair tied back in a braid had been passing by and upon seeing Noctis had stopped to pity him.
She looked up to Gladio and her eyes passed over him and his companion.
"What happened to the little thing?" She asked, looking at Gladio and immediately dismissing his blind companion.
"He's sick, got it all over his outfit and I don't have anything to change him into," Gladio said.
The man was a better actor than anyone would anticipate, his tone betraying anxiety and earnestness.
"I bet his mama is all in a tizzy over it, she must be lucky to have a husband like you though," the woman flashed Gladio a flirty smile.
Gladio kept on acting.
"I lost my wife when he was just a baby," Gladio replied.
What tragic charm, it worked perfectly and the woman let out a sympathetic sound.
"You poor things," she commiserated.
"Yeah, my sister's brother and I are trying to get to a family reunion, make sure that he gets to see his grandparents at least once."
The woman's eyes fell to Ignis and she let out another pathetic sound of sympathy. Ignis tightened his hand on Gladio's forearm.
"Yes, and we must be well rested," Ignis imparted, his prompt for them to get moving heard loud and clear.
"Of course, of course, bless his heart he's right, y'all should be going," the woman tittered. "Y'know though, I have a spare set of clothes, just his size, my little Ishmaela is such a messy kid, I always have a couple extra sets. I could bring 'em by for y'all."
"That'd be wonderful," Ignis answered, hand pushing a little.
Gladio took the hint and they continued on their way.
"I guess we have our covers made," Ignis said, a bit waspish at the undiscussed improv. "I suppose Prompto can be the orphaned bastard child of the rich recently deceased grandfather?"
Gladio chuckled and Ignis shook his head, wishing that less people saw them together with Noctis as a child. If anyone were to learn of the Prince's condition, well, needless to say it would be a nightmare.
Noctis slept, even as the woman came by their compartment with the clothes. She asked question after question and only got vague answers, ironically they ended up using the joke of a story Ignis had snapped out in ill temper at Gladio. The woman had absolutely gushed over little orphan Prompto. It took Ignis' and Gladio's combined efforts to get her to leave.
By the time she left, Noctis had finally woken up. He still had a fever but it was lower than it had been earlier.
"We'll be departing at the next stop, I believe the city's name is Milcoup," Ignis supplied conversationally.
Noctis blinked, before struggling to sit up on the seat between Ignis and Gladio.
"You should probably get dressed, champ," Gladio drawled, tossing the clothing the woman had brought at Noctis.
Noctis stared owlishly at the little cornflower blue dress and white underwear, there was even a little white hair bow. All of them expected some sort of complaint. Noctis merely pulled on the underwear and shed his black shirt before struggling to undo the buttons at the back of the dress, his little fingers trembling.
"Here, let me get that for you," Prompto said, practically flying off of his seat to take the dress from Noctis.
Prompto quickly undid the back buttons before approaching Noctis.
"Maybe I can help?" He asked, looking dubiously at Noctis.
Noctis gave a little nod. Prompto proceeded to wrangle the item onto Noctis. He finished and sat back in his own seat. Noctis sank back against the plush support of his seat looking exhausted.
"Jeez, Noct, I don't mean to insult you or anything, but you look like a cute little girl," Prompto said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.
Noctis raised his friend a one finger salute before dropping his hand back onto the seat. Gladio let out a grudging snort of laughter at Noctis' act.
"Behave," Ignis intoned, assuming that something undignified was going on.
Noctis let out a little huff of breath, one which could be either annoyance or exhaustion. The moment turned into a warm one, reminiscent of when they had first started out on their journey, four young men in a car on a road going to somewhere and nowhere all at the same time.