Disclaimer: I don't own FFXV.

Warning: Noctis/Prompto.

Note: Enjoy.

Summary: "You'll do as I say. Whether in life or death, I am still your prince."

Chapter One

Unlike other teenagers, Prompto can communicate with ghosts.

Despite being alive, Prompto felt like he's already dead or dying. After all, Prompto's a paranormal magnet – haunted by ghosts, who have unfinished businesses. And, he's forced to help them – somehow free them, or else he'll remain haunted by them forever.

When he was young, Prompto was sent to various places for troubled youths. This was because of his parents – frightened by him talking to the thin air, except he wasn't conversing with himself. They didn't believe him – thought that their son was mentally ill, that these imaginary friends of his were just a figment of his imagination.

Of course, Prompto was diagnosed and given pills. That didn't do anything, just make things far worse than they already were. They somehow heightened his abilities – exposed him more to the realm of the undead, to those that lurk between worlds.

He's at one of these gateways - the Citadel, where he had seen many residual energies already. It's been giving him a headache – flooding his mind, with horrors of the past. He had seen so many memories, so many historical events that weren't even documented.

"What do you think?" Mrs. Argentum asked, taking her gloves off. "Isn't this place lovely? This used to belong to the Lucis royal family, but now the Citadel is ours. This will be our new home, darling."

"I'm … I'm excited," Prompto assured, as she hugged him. "It'll be different, but I'm excited."

"You're such a good boy. Why don't you go upstairs and pick out your bedroom?"

"I … I think I already have one in mind."

"You do now, but how?"

"It's … It's in the West Wing, the bedroom facing the royal gardens."

"That's His Highness' bedroom. And I think that bedroom will be perfect for you."

"I'm … I'm going to check it out."

"Alright, then. If you need me, I'll be downstairs."

XOXO

In all honesty, Prompto wasn't excited.

In fact, Prompto was afraid. After all, Prompto had sensed something sinister – malevolent and malicious, oppressing the Citadel. It was dark and dangerous – something bestial and barbaric, something from the deep and dark depths of hell.

However, Prompto had sensed another. It wasn't evil, but dominating. He let them guide him – into His Highness' bedroom, where he came across a portrait. He stood underneath the painting – studying the handsome young man, with bewitching black locks and blue eyes. He felt safe – protected beneath His Highness' gaze, whose death he couldn't stop reliving.

So, Prompto ran toward the bedroom door. It shut right before him – trapping him, as he flew through the air. He landed atop the bed – pinned down, an onyx mass hovering above him. He shook his head – saying no, to the dominating spirit.

It didn't listen to him, though. He was sent into the past – watching a battle between two nations, specifically Niflheim and Lucis. He thrashed around – squirming and struggling, not wanting to see anymore.

"Son!" Mr. Argentum cried, hurriedly embracing Prompto. "What's happening? Are you okay? Should I call the ambulance?"

"N-No," Prompto croaked, violently convulsing. "I-I'll be fine."

"You should take your pills."

"I-I don't want to."

"You must, Prompto. It's doctor's orders."

"O-Okay …"

"That's my good boy now. You stay put. I'll go get your mother."

XOXO

In a moment, Prompto heard his mother's stilettos.

Then, Prompto began being coddled. He tried reassuring his mother, but that was in vain. He was ignored, like always by his parents. He couldn't get a word in, especially because his parents phoned his doctor. He sighed and rolled his eyes – listening to them talk, explicitly about him and his condition.

They don't listen to him, to their one and only son. They rather listen to doctors, who keep trying to over and over again institutionalize him. He won't let that happen – never will he be institutionalized and treated differently, when there is nothing wrong with him.

He's just gifted – harnessing powers, that makes him a medium for the departed. He's not a willing medium - far from willing, though he's the only one who can help those that have passed on.

If he had the chance, he would happily give up his powers. Until then, he will continue to help those who no other can help besides himself. After all, he would want someone to help him move on if he was still lingering in limbo.

"It's happening again. My son's spasms are back," Mrs. Argentum worried, as she clutched the phone. "What's happening to my son, doctor?"

"That can't be," Mr. Argentum warned, clenching his fists. "We cannot keep changing his medications, doctor. My son is so young. He shouldn't be going through this."

"It's our only option, sweetheart. Let's listen to the good doctor."

"This will be the last time. If our son doesn't get better, we're switching hospitals. Good day, doctor."

"I hope our Prompto gets better."

"Me, too."

XOXO

He was left alone, then.

He was still shaking – trembling and twitching, as his mind opened doorways. He clutched his blond locks – tugging them harshly, to ground himself with pain. He returned to the present, but with knowledge long forgotten. He quickly sat up, not before stumbling down. His body was weak, just spent from exhausting his powers.

He crawled toward the portrait, anyway. He knelt before His Highness - tears streaming down his face, still he nodded his head. He agreed to help His Highness – lend him his aid, specifically his powers.

He sensed His Highness, then. He could feel His Highness standing behind him, the dominating aura surrounding him. The crown prince seemed so sad, so horribly heartbroken. The ill-fated prince didn't seem anything like the young man in his textbooks. The deceased prince was revealing another side of himself to him. The dead prince was revealing who he really is.

He doesn't judge spirits, though. That is someone else's job – whether Gods, Angels, Devils, or Demons, but certainly not his.

"You're in danger," Noctis said, as he turned around and stood up. "You and your whole family are in danger."

"Why?" Prompto squeaked, his teeth chattering and chin quivering. "And why did you show me those memories? What do they mean? What do you want?"

"I just don't want any more people to die in my home, at the hands of my tormented ancestor. That's why you must help me, to stop him from shedding any more blood."

"How many people died in here?"

"I believe thousands have died in my home. It was a massacre."

"If that's true, then how can I help you?"

"You'll do as I say. Whether in life or death, I am still your prince."

"Yes, Your Highness."

A/N: What do you think? Leave me your thoughts.