So this is my first Final Fantasy XV fic, these boys have burrowed into my brain and refuse to get out. I love them so much, even though I torture them. For anyone curious, they're around the area of/at Telghey Haven, although a few creative liberties might have been taken, I can't remember if there are sahagins in that area. Also, I am not a doctor. I don't think it's too far off, or too into the realm of "this would totally never happen," but I totally made shit up.

Spoilers, but only if you've beaten the game, otherwise you won't realise they're spoilers. So I guess... not exactly spoilers?! Well, minor spoilers for the beginning of the game, I suppose.

Uncomplicated and Good
Part One

It happened so fast Noctis didn't even have time to react. One moment he was lunging forward, jabbing his lance into a sahagin's side, the next he felt his right foot being grabbed in a sharp, biting grip just above the ankle, and then he was lying on his back struggling frantically to get free. His weapon had flown out of his hand when he'd fell, and though he scrabbled around in the dirt, groping desperately, his fingers never brushed across it. He wished he could just pull another weapon out of the Arsenal, but the magic usually only let him keep one out at a time, unless it was the Royal Arms, and then the magic was fickle, only letting him pull out multiple arms when it deemed, never when he wanted them. Not to mention it took a lot of strength and focus, neither of which he felt right now.

Right now, he mostly just felt panic. Especially when Ignis looked across to him and spotted his predicament and immediately yelled.

"Noct!" Ignis' voice was slightly panicked, a reflection of Noct's feelings. He watched as Ignis fought with the sahagin slashing at him, clearly anxious to finish it off and rush to Noct's side. He'd love the rescue—it'd make great fantasy fodder for sure, but all improper thoughts of his advisor aside, he was truly in a bit of bind, unfortunately surrounded by three sahagins now, along with the one whose teeth still had a firm hold of his foot. There was no way Ignis would be able to get to him fast enough before he found himself in serious trouble.

"You alright, Noct?" Gladio called, dragging his greatsword across one of the sahagins' tough skin, slicing deeply into it. The creature let out a low growl, swiping at Gladio, who easily dodged.

"Fine!" Noct called back, though he wasn't sure if he was at all. "Worry about your own hide!" Gladio was busy taking on two of them, he didn't have time to come rescue a stupid prince—king now, he reminded himself—that couldn't keep himself out of trouble.

Noctis squirmed, kicking his caught leg towards the sahagin, hoping to catch it off guard enough to get free, even putting his hands against its slimy, scaly skin for extra leverage. He could feel rocks digging painfully into his back beneath him, scraping across the old scars every time he jerked. He ignored it though, knowing he needed to get free quick or he might not have a foot left, if he even survived the fight. A flash of fear shuddered through him at that thought, but he shoved it aside. Now was not the time to think of such things. Unfortunately, the sahagin was stubborn, and clung onto him, its teeth slowly piercing through his boot. The thought drove him further into panic, and he fought harder.

A sahagin to his left snapped at his arm, and he lashed out on instinct, letting go of the one he was holding, swinging wildly, managing to smack the attacking one across the face. He knew as soon as it happened that it was a mistake, and that was confirmed when he felt claws raking down his arm, flaying the skin open. Noct yelled, burning pain assaulting him almost immediately, and began struggling even more fiercely, wanting nothing more to get free and tear into these beasts. Another sahagin to his right snapped at his exposed side, teeth grazing him enough to leave shallow gashes that soon began to ooze blood, large beaded droplets that welled up before sluggishly trailing down to the ground. He grit his teeth, paying no mind to the throbbing in his side as he tried to sit himself up, thinking to maybe shove the sahagin off, but the wretched things wouldn't let him, snapping at him and easily keeping him on his back.

"Dammit!" That was Gladio cursing, rushing up with his greatsword to swing at the beast that had clawed his arm a short while ago, knocking him away with a powerful swing. For a moment, Noctis was relieved, thinking he'd been rescued, but the sahagin was up quick, surprisingly fast for such an unwieldy-looking creature, and all of Gladio's attention was soon taken up with fighting him off, one of the others that had been circling Noct also joining in.

He hurriedly looked around, pausing a moment in his struggles to locate the other two members of their group. Ignis was still grappling with the sahagin from earlier, seemingly having a bit of trouble of his own. Prompto was a ways down the bank, up to his knees in the river, firing off shots one after another as two of them half-circled him, sweeping their powerful tails at him every so often, keeping him constantly jumping and dodging, but ultimately trapped in his position. Neither of them would be able to help him right now. He was on his own.

It was weird, though. Noctis couldn't recall them ever having to fight off so many at once. They'd clearly stumbled into some kind of sahagin lair. For the first time, he seriously began to doubt if any of them would get out of this alive. It scared him, greatly. He swallowed heavily, doing his best to tamp down the tendrils of fear creeping through him, and began to kick out again. He wasn't going to go down without a fight.

Just then, the sahagin's teeth tightened down on him, at last piercing through his boots and breaking into the soft skin of his leg, causing him to grunt in pain. He could feel blood immediately running down his leg in little rivulets, pooling into his sock down in his boot. Frustrated, he flung a punch into the sahagin's snout, thinking that maybe it would be enough of a distraction for it to stop biting.

It was—but only for a second. Noct felt its teeth letting up, but before he could take the chance to scramble away, the teeth were back, biting down even harder, digging deep into his skin, making him gasp for breath at each stab of pain that shot through his leg. Knowing he didn't have much time, he fought once more to sit up, this time succeeding now that two of the sahagin were tackling Gladio. He reached forward and grabbed the snout clamped down on his leg, using all the strength he had left to try and pry its mouth open. It growled low in its throat, not liking the treatment, but retained its hold, refusing to let go.

In his desperate desire to get free, he paid little attention to the fourth sahagin that had been near him, the one that, up until now, had been content to circle around him and bide its time, not seeing a need to attack him when its companions were doing such a fine job. Now, however, sensing the potential shift in battle, it at last struck, sharp claws swinging down in a heavy arc.

Noctis felt them tearing into his back, across his old scars, deep, his skin ripping apart easily as the creature snarled and slashed at him again, and the pain was so immense that for a moment his vision whited out and he couldn't breath. A third slash then, and Noctis screamed. The sound echoed across the water, seemingly amplified, and three heads jerked up from their own battles to see their king's dire predicament.

"Noct!" Ignis yelled in terror this time, adrenaline kicking in and giving him the burst he needed to shove the attacking sahagin away and drive his lance deep into its skull, piercing its brain and killing it. He jerked the rod back out and began running towards Noctis, intent on saving him.

Prompto was quicker. He'd already been in the midst of finishing his own battles when Noct had screamed, and now he saw that the sahagin behind Noct would shred him to pieces before Ignis ever reached him. He didn't think, just reacted, jumping onto a nearby rock that gave him just the right angle to take quick aim and fire. The shot rang true, bullet flying through the air and burrowing into the side of the sahagin's head. A few more, and it was down, letting out one last dying snarl.

Ignis, meanwhile, had reached the one that was still firmly attached to Noct's leg, and quickly made short work of it, the adrenaline still rushing through him giving him the needed strength. The other two reached them just as he was extracting Noctis from the now dead beast.

"Here." Prompto was already shoving a hi-potion at Ignis as he carefully cradled the injured king, sitting down and leaning Noct against him, mindful of his wounds. Ignis took it, placing it in Noct's right hand, curling his fingers around it.

"Noct? Noct, are you with us? I need you to squeeze your right hand," Ignis said urgently. Noct was moaning against him, eyes squeezed tightly shut, breath choppy and gasping. Any other time, any other situation, Ignis would have been thrilled, the image of a moaning prince having featured in many a late-night fantasy. Now though, all he felt was overwhelming fear, his usual calm demeanour shattered in the face of potentially losing Noct.

"Hey buddy, you with us?" Prompto said, gently patting at his cheek, but Noct was lost in pain, no longer aware of what was going on.

"I'll do it for him," Gladio said gruffly, and closed his own hand around Noct's forcefully, until the vial at last broke and the green glow of the curative enveloped him. They all watched anxiously for a few moments, until finally Noct's breathing evened out and his moans dropped off into quiet whimpers before ceasing altogether as his body suddenly sagged against Ignis'. He'd passed out—not entirely a good sign, but not necessarily a bad one, either.

No one was ready to look at his back just yet, knowing that the potion wouldn't have been enough to fully heal it, but Ignis chanced a look at his left arm, relieved to see that the gaping wounds had knitted closed, and in a few days would be nothing more than faint white lines. The wounds in his side and leg likely looked the same, though he'd double check at camp later, just to be sure.

"Thank the Six," Prompto breathed, sagging down to the ground in relief, his gun falling out of a suddenly limp hand.

Privately, Ignis heartily echoed the sentiment, though out loud all he said was, "We should hurry and get to a haven before anything else attacks. We're sitting ducks at the moment."

Gladio grunted agreement, pulling his map out of his back pocket and unfolding it. "There's one nearby," he said after a moment's study. He pointed a finger at it, tapping the paper a few times. "If we hurry, we could probably make it in about forty-five minutes. Maybe less, if you speed, Iggy."

Ignis nodded. "I think an exception can be made this once," he said.

They cleared out of there quickly, gathering up all the weapons and the earlier gathered provisions that had been their reason for being there in the first place. Gladio carefully picked up the now unconscious king, resting him gently against his shoulder much like he would a small infant, the only way that kept his back from touching anything and causing him more pain. From there it was a short trip back to the Regalia, and between the three of them they got Noct stretched out on his stomach across the back seat, his head somewhat awkwardly resting in Ignis' lap while Prompto drove and Gladio sat in the front passenger seat. Under normal circumstances, Ignis wouldn't have dared trusted Prompto behind the wheel of the Regalia, but he knew himself well enough to admit that he'd have a hard time doing the reckless driving required to get them to camp fast.

And while he was being honest with himself, he could also admit that he wanted to be with Noct. Now that the adrenaline was finally wearing off, he was left feeling shaky, flooded with terror at what might have happened if Prompto had been just a little slower, or his aim a little off. Had they not gotten there in time, Noct could have...

Ignis forced the thought away. Gently, he carded his fingers through Noct's hair while Prompto drove, not minding all the dirt and grit he encountered. The action was a soothing balm to his nerves, and sorely needed. They reached the parking spot near the haven in good time, and Ignis gently eased himself out from under Noct, the three of them quickly unloading the necessary gear for camping. It was a bit trickier with only two of them available to carry it, but they managed. Luckily the haven wasn't far, and they ran into no trouble on the path down.

Once they made it up on to the flat rock, Ignis and Prompto both sat their things down with relief, and then hurriedly set to pitching the tent while Gladio still held onto Noctis. There was still a couple hours daylight left, but the wind was picking up and the clouds were darkening, indicating a storm was on its way.

"Here," Prompto said, tossing a bedroll at Ignis, and he caught it with a grim nod, climbing inside the now finished tent to lay it out. Gladio ducked inside, careful not to jostle Noct too much, and laid him down on the bedroll.

"We better get the rest of the stuff inside," he said. "Storm's just about here."

Ignis could tell. The wind was rippling the canvas of the tent badly, and he could also hear it whistling loudly through the trees. "If you two would be so kind as to bring it in, I'll start on Noct's back," he said, and they nodded, stepping back out.

Prompto was back soon, carting in their bag of medical supplies, which he set down near Ignis, who had just settled himself next to Noctis. "Is he going to be okay, you think?" Prompto asked, blushing at the slight waver in his voice.

Ignis pushed his glasses up his nose some, giving the younger boy a solemn look. "I hope so," was all he said. Prompto turned his gaze to his unconscious friend for a moment, and then headed back out to get more stuff.

Alone for the time being, Ignis took a deep breath and at last looked down at Noct's back. The gruesome sight that met his eyes made him wince. Even with the earlier potion, the wounds were deep, wide open and overlapping, the skin positively shredded in places. Likely the potion had only stopped the bleeding, and did no sort of healing work at all.

"I'm going to need sterile water," he told Gladio as the man stepped through the tent, several bags in each hand.

Gladio raised an eyebrow as he set the bags down. "The river's still nearby, but getting a fire going will be difficult right now."

Ignis waved that away. "Prompto can set up a tarp, we've got the poles for it, and we can use the camping stove if we have to," he said unconcernedly. "I need to wash these wounds before they get infected."

Gladio chanced a look down, grimacing when he saw the state of Noct's back. "Potion didn't help, huh?"

"It stopped the bleeding," Ignis said flatly. Which was helpful, but it meant Noct still wasn't completely out of danger yet.

Gladio sighed. "We'll get right on it," he said, just as Prompto darted in, holding some of Ignis' cooking equipment.

"Get right on what?" he asked. Gladio put a hand on his chest and began pushing him backwards, out of the tent. "Hey!"

"We'll need that outside," Gladio said, gesturing to the small stove. "Iggy needs some clean water, so we're gonna get it for him. Come on, chocobo butt."

"It is not a chocobo butt!" Prompto squeaked in indignation, squawking with even more outrage when Gladio reached out a hand to ruffle said chocobo butt hair. Not that Ignis would mention it, but he'd sounded rather like a chocobo just then.

"You even wark like one," he heard as they left the tent, and he shook his head, smiling slightly at their antics. It was good. They'd need to keep their spirits up. The next few days would likely be tense and tough, waiting on Noct to wake up.

Speaking of... he turned his attention once more to the king, staring at his back for a moment. Even disregarding the wounds, it was a mess. Blood was everywhere, most of it dried and dark, with some of the thicker patches still tacky in places. Small rocks and bits of gravel were pressed into his skin, almost embedded in it, and dirt was mixed in with the lot of it. His jacket was also shredded, long tattered strips dangling from the collar, some of them stuck fast to his back by the blood. There would be no saving it.

Sighing, he rummaged in the bag beside him for a pair of scissors, and began carefully cutting away what he could, glad Noct was unconscious. The dried pieces he left alone, knowing he'd need the warm water to remove them. Once he'd done that, he turned his attention to Noct's boots, gently pulling them off along with the bloody sock, which he replaced with a clean one once he'd inspected the leg—two white dots were the only sign of the bite he'd endured earlier. After that he eased Noct up to pull the rest of his jacket and shirt away, leaving the king bare-chested. He looked to Noct's right side where he'd seen blood earlier, but whatever wound had been there, there wasn't even a trace of now, so it must not have been a serious one. He sighed. If only they could have been so lucky with Noct's back.

At last, having nothing else to do for Noct, he started looking through their supplies, seeing what they had and trying to decide what might be useful. Painkillers, which would likely prove helpful once Noct awoke, but were not so much now. Tufts of phoenix down feathers, but he would prefer Noct stay unconscious for what was coming. Antidotes, smelling salts, remedies... absolutely useless. Potions, but given that the hi-potion had barely had an effect... What he wouldn't give for a hi-elixir, or even just a regular one. Unfortunately, they'd run out the previous night on a hunt, and hadn't yet made it into town to replenish their supply. That had originally been planned for tomorrow.

He rubbed briefly at his temples, and finally pulled out some bandages. They'd just have to do this the old-fashioned way.

x x x

Eventually Gladio and Prompto returned from the river, soaking wet and each carrying a large pot of water. The storm was in full force by now, the wind howling around their tent while the thunder rattled it. The rain was coming down in sheets, weighing the top of the tent down with gathered water that Ignis would have to get up and push off every so often, lest it started leaking through. Lightning occasionally rent the sky, brightening the whole tent up. Ignis had gone back to running his fingers through Noct's hair, having little else to do while he waited.

It amazed him that Noct could stay unaware through all of this. Amazed him, and scared him. He kept finding himself staring intently at Noct's back, watching for the rise and fall that told him the king was still breathing. There'd been moments in battle before, where things got intense and he wasn't always sure if Noct would make it, but Noct had always quickly rallied and managed to come out relatively unscathed, and any more serious injuries had always been easily taken care of by a potion. None of them had been this badly injured before.

He wouldn't know what to do with himself if Noctis died. It wasn't even about Noctis being king, or Ignis' vow to always protect him. It was that Noctis brought joy and meaning to his life, had done since they were children and Ignis had first arrived at the Citadel, traumatised by his parents' deaths and unwilling to talk. Even though he'd been all of three then, Noctis had understood when no one else had, and had been content with letting Ignis be. As they'd gotten older, he'd become the friend that Ignis had never knew he needed, even after Ignis had been officially chosen to be his future advisor, even after Noct's accident.

He didn't know for sure when his feelings for Noct had changed into something more. Some time a few years ago. He'd never dared to say anything, knowing the trust that King Regis had placed in him, and not wanting to abuse that trust. And he'd always known that someday Noctis would have to grow up and marry a woman, someone that could be his queen and give him an heir to carry on the Lucis Caelum line. Even if Noctis were into guys—and Ignis really had no idea, though sometimes he'd wondered about Noct and Prompto, back when they were in high school—there was no way that he and Noct could ever work out long term.

That didn't stop Noct from frequently featuring in his dreams and fantasies, however. There'd been many a night when he was younger that he'd woken up to find his boxers uncomfortably wet and Noctis' name spilling in a harsh groan from his lips. He'd always felt ashamed and guilty, knowing that he shouldn't be thinking of the prince in such a manner, but the first time he'd given in and purposely concocted a fantasy of him and Noct together, he'd came harder than he ever had in his life.

"Yo, Iggy! Your water's heating!" Gladio called, pulling down the zipper and sticking his head through the tent flap, dripping rain water onto the floor. "How's his royal pain in our ass?"

Ignis stirred, interrupted in his musing of the past, and looked at Gladio in disapproval, tossing him a towel. "Still unconscious," he said tersely, "but alive."

"Right," Gladio said as he caught it, and disappeared again. Scarcely ten minutes later he was back, Prompto following along behind him, looking like a bedraggled chocobo that had been taken through the mud a few times. Ignis stared.

Prompto scowled at him, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. "I slipped."

"Ah." Ignis nodded, not caring to question it, his attention switching over to Noctis as Gladio set the pot of water down.

"Should be warm, but not too hot for him now," Gladio said, settling in on the other side of Noctis. Prompto hovered near the entrance of the tent, watching them, feeling helpless but not sure what he could do that wouldn't leave him in the way.

Ignis grabbed one of the cloths he'd set out earlier and tossed it to Gladio, before dipping his own in the water and wringing out the excess. The two of them then got to work on Noct's back, working slowly and carefully, wiping away all the dirt and blood and gravel around the wounds, and softening and pulling up the dried strips of fabric as gently as they could. Noct never quite came to, but he did drift into a lighter level of unconsciousness, his body tensing and flinching when one of them was too harsh.

At last they had him mostly clean, and Ignis stared down at him, thinking.

"What's up, Iggy?" Gladio asked.

"We need to rinse out the wounds with some of this water," he finally said. "Normally I would suggest we do so outside, but the storm leaves that an unlikely choice. I would also prefer we not flood his bedroll, however."

There was silence for a moment, and then Prompto spoke hesitantly. "There's an extra tarp we could put under him. And we have a few extra towels that could soak up the excess."

Ignis nodded at him, gracing him with a small but genuine smile. "Excellent thinking, Prompto," he said. "If you'll be so kind as to fetch them..."

"Sure!" Prompto flashed him a grin as he unzipped the tent. "Be back in a jiffy!" He gave them a quick thumbs up and then stepped out.

Gladio sighed, looking down at their king. "This is pretty serious, Iggy," he said quietly.

"Yes," Ignis agreed, his voice equally as soft. "Even if he manages to avoid an infection and wake in a couple of days, his back is going to take a long time to heal. He'll have to take it easy for awhile."

"He'll hate that."

"I'm aware. But he'll have little choice in the matter."

They were quiet then until Prompto returned, lugging a wadded up tarp which he dropped unceremoniously to the floor of the tent. "How are we going to get it under him?" he asked.

Ignis thought for a moment. "Gladio can move him while you unroll the tarp and get it into place, then we'll put him back on top of it and get the towels arranged. I need to go reheat the water."

Prompto nodded, and Ignis stood, stretching a moment before grabbing the pot and leaving them to it. He was surprised when he stepped out to find that the storm had died down some—he hadn't noticed before, as he'd been so intent on Noctis. The wind had mostly stopped, and though the rain was still steady, it was no longer sheeting.

He stepped over to the camp stove and turned it up on high as he set the pot down, adding in some more water from the second pot they'd brought, and trying not to be impatient. He'd mastered patience years ago, dealing with a moody teenage Noct, but in the last few hours that skill had completely disappeared, and he actually found himself drumming his fingers on the fold-out table as he stared at the stove. Thankfully a few minutes later the water was boiling, and he turned it off, setting it aside to cool as he went to check on the others.

"How's it coming?" he asked, peering in.

"Great!" Prompto gave another thumbs up in his direction, not turning away from watching as Gladio set Noct gently down onto the tarp, ready to dash in and pile towels around him. Ignis watched for a moment, and then went back to fetch the water.

Once everyone was situated, he looked at the other two solemnly. "I'm hoping he won't wake for this," he said. "But if he does, be prepared to hold him down."

"No problem," Gladio said, and Prompto nodded at him, though he was suddenly looking a bit sick. Ignis hoped he'd hold it together, because the next part would be even worse, and he'd need him for it.

Luckily Noctis remained unconscious still, though he did jerk a few times as the water ran gently over his back. Ignis watched the water run down to the towels, making a face at the bits of dirt and gravel and blood that soon stained the white fabric. As long as it'd been, it'd be a miracle at this point if Noct didn't wind up with an infection.

When he'd gotten the wounds as clean and dry as he could, he sat back, once more looking at the other two, suddenly reluctant. He knew Gladio could handle what came next, but he didn't need Prompto to be throwing up all over the king's back. But he needed two people, and he wasn't sure Prompto would be strong enough to hold Noctis down.

"What is it?" Prompto asked nervously, sensing he wasn't going to like whatever Ignis was thinking.

Ignis sighed, shoving at his glasses and ignoring the low throbbing that was starting up in his head. There'd be time for him to nurse his headache later. Right now, as always, Noct was the priority. "These wounds are too open," he said, uncommon hesitation in his voice. "I'll need to sew them closed."

Prompto looked at him with wide eyes, already pale skin going even paler, his freckles standing out across his face in stark contrast. "Sew?" he asked, his tone high-pitched and catching on the single word. "Like, with needles?"

Ignis nodded. "Yes. Such as the needles and thread we normally use to mend our clothes."

"Oh... okay. So then, what are you waiting for...?"

Ignis paused, looking across to Gladio. Gladio met his eyes steadily, having already figured out what Ignis needed from them. "I won't let up, no matter what," he said.

"Let up?" Prompto asked, eyes darting back and forth between them in confusion.

Gladio grunted. "I'm gonna hold him down, in case he comes to," he explained, already reaching to pin Noctis in place. "You're gonna hold the wounds together for Iggy."

"M-me? No way! I... I can't do that, I'll... I'll mess it up! Or get sick..." he trailed off, swallowing heavily.

"Prompto," Ignis said patiently, though he felt anything but. "You won't mess it up. And if you feel like you're going to get sick, tell me and we'll stop for a moment. But I need you for this. Noct needs you," he added, knowing how much Prompto and Noct cared for each other.

Prompto took a deep breath, clearly steeling himself, and then nodded, coming around to Ignis' side and sinking down on shaky knees beside him. "What exactly do you need me to do?" he asked. Ignis pointed out the places where he needed Prompto to put his hands, showing him how to push the skin together tight. Prompto did as instructed, and though his hands were trembling some, it wasn't enough to matter.

Ignis grabbed the needle and thread he'd taken out earlier, sliding the black thread through the eye with a practiced hand, then took his own deep breath before lowering the needle. He worked quickly and methodically, years of staying up late to sew the numerous minor rips and tears and lost buttons in the careless prince's clothes serving him well now. He didn't think about the fact that it was Noct's skin that he was sewing up, or that Noct still might not make it, even after all of this.

Halfway through, Noct came around, groaning deeply as he tried to lift his head. "Wha... wha's g'in on?"

"...Shit," Gladio cursed softly, but Ignis didn't look up or stop from his work. "Everything's fine, Princess. Go back to sleep."

"No'... 'rin...ss," Noct slurred, and then winced as he felt the tug of the needle through his skin. His head jerked up as he tried to wrench his body forward, away from the sudden fire rippling all along his back, but Gladio's strong arms effortlessly held him in place.

"Easy there, bud. You're fine."

"No... no!" He jerked again in sudden panic, feeling desperate to get away from whatever was happening. His back was in agony, sharp pinpricks lancing through it over and over, and he couldn't bear it. "Stop... hurts!" His words were becoming clearer as clarity returned to him, and he struggled against all the hands he could feel holding him down, not realising yet who those hands belonged to. He raised his head up more, trying to twist it around, trying to see what was happening, what was causing that white-hot pain searing his back. Large hands prevented him from turning, however, and it wasn't long before he began to cry, both from fear and pain, sobs tearing out of him in heaving gulps as he continued to fight.

"Isn't there something we can give him to knock him out again?" Prompto asked desperately, looking imploringly at Gladio.

The big man grunted, looking back at him. "Like what? We usually want to recover from unconsciousness, not induce it."

"We do need to get him calm," Ignis said. "I can't work when he's struggling so."

"I could give him a hard knock to the head," Gladio offered, grinning across to him.

Ignis shook his head, his expression solemn. "The king's head is too hard for that. He'd never feel it."

"Really?" Prompto burst out, looking between them. This hardly seemed like the time to joke. "I can't believe you guys..." He shook his own head, and then ignored them both, focusing all of his attention on his best friend. "Noct... hey, listen. Noct. It's me, it's Prompto, your best bud. I know it hurts a lot right now, but you gotta calm down, okay? Noct, you listening, buddy? Come on, calm down... I promise you're okay..." He kept talking, keeping his voice reassuring and soothing, not knowing if he was getting through, but not able to just sit there and listen to Noct's distress, the sound of Noct's sobs tearing painfully at his heart. He knew if Noct was more cognisant of what was going on, he'd be terribly embarrassed. The other two remained quiet, content to leave Prompto to his attempt.

Gradually though, Noct's sobs did lessen, and his struggles slowly ceased as Prompto's words got through to him, until at last he was croaking, "Prompto?" in a hoarse voice.

"Yeah, it's me," Prompto reassured him. "Gladio and Ignis are here too. You're safe right now, Noct."

"Back... hurts."

Prompto let a shaky sigh, and hoped the others never mentioned the tears he could feel trickling down his cheeks. He never wanted to see his best friend in such a state again. "I know... You were badly injured by some sahagins earlier. Do you remember that?"

Noctis was quiet for a moment, trying to think through the haze of pain. He did kind of vaguely remember a fight... and his leg had been caught by one of them? But the others hadn't been able to get to him. And that didn't explain the pain in his back. "Sorta," he said.

"One of them clawed you in the back a few times. It's... not pretty." His voice faltered, remembering the way it had first looked. He knew he'd never quite forget the sight. "What you're feeling right now is Ignis sewing up the wounds."

Noctis digested that, shuddering as he realised what the earlier sensation he'd been feeling was. "Gladio?" he asked.

"I'm here. Holding you down so you don't flail around too much."

"Specs... sewing neatly?"

Ignis laughed softly, though his emotions felt far too out of control at the situation for him to feel any true humour. "Certainly, Your Majesty."

Noct grimaced at the title, but nodded his head tiredly, accepting the situation. "Okay then. Prompto?" He wiggled his left hand.

Prompto hesitated, knowing what he wanted but not sure how he could do what Ignis and Noct wanted at the same time.

"It's okay, I got it, Prompto," Gladio said, letting go of Noctis to take Prompto's spot on Noct's back, reaching to hold the wounds together. "I don't think he'll fight much right now."

Prompto smiled at him gratefully, and then reached out to grasp Noct's left hand, twining their fingers together loosely. "I'm here for you, Noct," he said softly.

"Is everyone ready?" Ignis asked, and they all nodded, even Noct, though he also took a deep breath.

He flinched at the first touch of the needle to his skin, and the tug as Ignis pulled the needle through had him whimpering and tightening his hand on Prompto's in a bone-crushing grip, though he kept himself still as much as he could manage. It was hard though, the pain in his back was nearly unbearable, and he felt nauseous, stomach rolling with every new prick of the needle.

Prompto watched him, heart aching as he saw how hard Noct was trying to remain stoic, but knowing from the way his fingers were turning white that Noct was in a considerable amount of pain. He wished Noct didn't have to go through this. He reached out with his right hand and began to pet Noctis' hair, hoping it would help relax him somewhat. Somewhere near the end of the second wound, Prompto realised Noct's hand had gone slack in his, and his whimpers had stopped. He'd passed out again.

After that, Ignis made short work of the rest of his back, and soon Prompto and Gladio were holding him up while Ignis loosely wrapped a gauze bandage around him. Gladio picked him up again while Prompto cleared away the tarp and towel, and Ignis took care of their supplies. They laid out his bedroll, finally laying theirs out as well, and then Gladio carefully settled him back onto his stomach, into the bedroll. They didn't bother with getting him a new shirt, knowing it would be too much hassle and would only catch on the bandages anyway.

Prompto volunteered to stay with him, and Ignis and Gladio both made their way outside. The storm had finally stopped, and though daylight was fast fading now, Gladio wanted to gather what little dry wood he could find and get a fire going. Ignis chose to get the rest of their camp set up, placing out their chairs and setting up the rest of the cooking equipment as well as their box of non-perishable food. He then shook out the second tarp and used it to make them a little shelter of sorts, tying it to the first one and then wrapping it around three ends of the poles, making a tarp box that was open at one end. It wasn't perfect, but it'd keep some of the rain and wind off of them—they'd be here a few days, and today's storm probably wouldn't be the only one.

Once done, he sank wearily down into one of the chairs to wait for Gladio, the day's events at last catching up to him. He couldn't help but replay their fight with the sahagins in his head, specifically that terrifyingly wrenching moment when Noct's scream had reverberated all around them. He'd yanked his head up so fast his neck had popped, and when he'd caught sight of Noct leaning up against a sahagin, his leg still caught in its sharp bite, another behind him clawing viciously at his back, Ignis could have sworn his heart had stopped, just for a second.

He barely even remembered taking out the one he'd been fighting against—he could only recall running to Noct, knowing he wouldn't make it fast enough but praying to the Six that Noct would still somehow be okay. And then Prompto's shot had rang out, and it had been the sweetest sound Ignis had ever heard. He'd found himself thanking the Gods as he dropped down to the ground beside Noct, reaching for him, hoping one of the others still had a potion on them, knowing he'd used his last one earlier.

For just that one brief moment, he'd thought things would be okay. But then Prompto had shoved the potion at him, and Noct couldn't even break it, and when Gladio finally had, Noct had passed out instead of bouncing to his feet with the smug smirk that Ignis both loved and hated.

He buried his face in his hands, knowing all over again just how close they had come to losing Noct. It was a horrible and terrible thought, to think of Noct dead. To never see him smile again as he taste-tested Ignis' latest attempt at the Tenebrae dessert, or to hear his laugh as he teased Ignis about his stuffy ways, or to watch him quietly enthuse over a big fish he'd caught, looking to Ignis for praise as if he was still a small child... He was ashamed to realise he was close to tears, suddenly, and his body shook as he contemplated a world without Noctis. A world without Noctis seemed like a dark and bleak world, one where the sun never rose and nothing was right and hopes and dreams had long since shattered.

He couldn't hold it back any longer. Mindful of Prompto a few feet away in the tent, he managed to keep quiet, but he let the tears flow down freely, quickly dampening the hands he still had his head buried in. A few moments later, there was a clattering of wood against the rock, and then Gladio's warm hand was on his shoulder, briefly tightening. "He's gonna be okay, Iggy," Gladio said softly, his voice a soothing rumble. Ignis shuddered.

Gladio left his hand there a moment longer, offering silent comfort, and then he stepped away, presumably to get the fire going. Ignis took the time to get himself back under control, and when at last he heard the familiar crackle of wood burning, he raised his head, discreetly scrubbing at his cheeks before looking to Gladio.

"We could have lost him."

"But we didn't."

"We might still."

"We won't," Gladio said firmly, and there was such confidence in his voice that Ignis felt comforted, even though he didn't quite believe him.

"How can you be sure?" he asked, and the needy, pleading undertone in his voice was so unlike him that Gladio looked up from his tending of the fire, studying him intently for a moment.

"'Cause I have faith in him," Gladio said at last, though he didn't tear his gaze away from Ignis.

"What if that's not enough? What if he dies, what if I lose him? I can't lose him, I can't be without him!" He was distressed, not thinking clearly, and couldn't seem to keep himself calm. He hadn't meant to word things that way, but it was out now.

"Ignis..." Gladio said slowly, his voice hushed as he glanced towards the tent. "He's going to have to take a queen someday, whether it's the Lady Lunafreya or not."

The words had a sobering effect, and Ignis was silent for a bit, for once wishing Gladio wasn't a lot smarter than he looked. "I know that," he said at last, his voice low. "I have no intentions other than to remain by his side in whatever capacity he wishes for me to." Which was absolutely true, though if that capacity ever happened to be as 'lover' someday, Ignis certainly wouldn't object.

"Okay then," Gladio said, though he still seemed unsure. "And Iggy..." He waited until Ignis met his eyes, before continuing on. "I promise you, he won't die. I'm not gonna let him."

To that, Ignis nodded once, a brief jerk of his head, and then he finally got up to see what he could rustle up for dinner.

And there you have it. Let me know what you thought, if you wish!