Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting
Also, I usually set a minimum word requirement for my chapters, but for this one, I think I'll 'go with the flow' to see if it helps prevent things from sounding too stiff or forced.
Lying there, in gross stillness, the evened out breaths of the others swirled around their room, seemingly almost too loud for his hounding and prodding thoughts. 'I know I heard it', he recounted over and over until the phrase had lost all coherent meaning; that off putting sob resounded throughout the back of his skull, like a parasite feeding off his infatuation, 'I know I did.' A sharp and restless swivel to the right, 'Maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me,' he sighed, casually allowing his eyes to glide open and stared off into the limitless darkness, eyes darting ineffectually around in search of he wasn't sure what, but he assumed anything that would validate his earlier suspicions. Closing his eyes once more, chastising words replaced the previous disclaiming ones. He was tired. He was still feeling slightly ill from the ride over. And, he was in a new place, perfect conditions for the imagination to meander and flourish, so who's to say he did hear anything. No one else did.
He needed to clear his head, and wallowing around in his own mangled thoughts and concerns sure wasn't the way to accomplish that. Hesitation bound him though, and sleep caressed, causing the urge to go for a walk sound less ideal. But, something pleaded him, something rooted inside berated him, pelted him with pebbles of urgency until the temptation to go was his only worry. Before he could ponder the notion further, he was already on his feet, them moving on their own accord towards their door. Hand on the knob, he twisted it cautiously, flinching and cringing with every minute and insignificant 'squeak', that sparked out from it, the quietness of their quarters heightening the small noises. With care and precision, he was out, and not a single sign of the others noticing.
Prompto took a moment of seclusion to subdue his nagging heart, the manner in which it fluttered against his chest provoked his nerves into an apprehensive frenzy; caused them to prickle the underside of his skin. This felt almost...immoral, like he was retracting his faith from the three of them and locking it away. But, he knew this to be the easiest way to investigate further without interference. He placed his first step away from the building; he'd return before they realized anything was amiss. As he drifted down the street, it became agonizingly clear how desolate the city had become, eerily so; gazing around, not a single presence in sight, not an ounce of sound other than his own hurried and echoed footfalls. Though, for some reason, none of this struck him as a warning, none of it screamed at him to go back and forget all of his festering curiosities.
His destination grew closer, and with it as did the volume of his breaths and his steps, both bouncing off his surroundings and stabbing through his eardrums, swallowing all his other senses, all aside from his sense of unease. That one continued to barrage him with vigor, threading through him as it tugged him along. Just up ahead, not much further, that identical wail pierced those other sounds, slicing through them with ease. And, he was certain the sharpened cry cleaved straight through him as well, he could almost feel the chilled edge as it made its contact. Prompto's haste came to an abrupt halt when he reached the top of the steps, and for a while he could only stand there and watch from a distance; fear now held him back now that he had arrived and the anticipation washed over him.
Another puncturing cry and his body was lured back into its weighing need to help, taking the steps one precise and deafening step at a time. "Where are you?" his voice sounded in stark contrast to his descent, "Please, I want to help." A sob, small and reserved, replied to him. "Hello?" he called after it, reluctantly hovering towards where he thought it to come from. Within a fraction of a moment, there he was, staring back into those oil orbs, lifeless and draining eyes staring at him, captivating his whole being. Fingers tentatively and perceptively trailed down the painting, running over ridges and blemishes of paint. They stopped, lingering a centimeter above the corner of crimson lips, chilled air brushing over their tips. He glanced back up, his own breath hitching at the glistening he found residing in those blackened orbs. Using a thumb, he swiped at it, coming away damp, shaking as another droplet took its place.
"Wha-" fingers, fingers that weren't his own, clasped around his wrist, transferring icy prickles of pain into his veins. He gasped, momentarily losing the use of his vocal cords, and he glanced down. Stroked flesh wrapped around his own real skin, twisting around it in a meshing spiral. His breathing huffed out in quickened panicked puffs; his arm was going numb, losing its feeling due to the overwhelming cold, branching farther up to his shoulder. He could feel them slithering through his veins, freezing them and grasping them as they scouted out his heart; each pump of blood served as push needed to guide the sensation closer to its goal.
He was getting dizzy, the room spun in disorienting directions, his chest heaved as he struggled for simple and short breaths. Oxygen wasn't reaching him, he could feel the way his body was already desperate and praying for it. Mouth opened to beg it to stop, the plead with it to cease whatever it was doing, but nothing, lips were unable to part and the bitter taste of oil coated his tongue, tickling and suffocating as it streamed down his throat. The urge to gag clawed at him, ripping at him as the substance trickled out of the corner of his mouth. He was dying, he was positive about that, dying alone and slowly, and no one knew where he was. He was dying and the last thing he would here was that damned crying, still assaulting him in droves.
He jolted upright, chest expanded in heaves, pain-filled and hastened heaves that left his limbs trembling. Beads of sweat steamed down his face, mirroring that of his back and neck. "Hey, you alright?" Noctis asked next to him, the unexpected voice startling him as he spun to face him, wide sky eyes locking onto deep midnight ones. He didn't know how to respond, after what he just experienced, the authenticity and terror that survived his waking, he wasn't sure how he could, "Dude, why are you crying?"
"Hmm?" he reached up, dabbing a finger under his eye and came into contact with the wetness that sat there. "Weird," he uttered, voice cracking from both dryness and alarm, and he could have sworn the aftertaste of paint still plagued his tongue. Quickly, he rubbed the back of his hand over them, ridding them of any unwelcomed tears. He roughly cleared his aching throat, cringing at the way it stung, "Just a really...strange dream," he swallowed hard, shoving down the crumbs of fear left behind, and, unconsciously, he pulled his arm to his chest, pressing it against his top just to be certain he could still move it, could still feel it.
A shiver ran down his spine, the feeling of other eyes on him becoming apparent when he remembered the other two not too far away. Offering a minor and insincere smile, he lifted a hand in awkward greeting, "Morning." Gladio reluctantly reflected the gesture, grunting his own acknowledgement, eyes flitting from plastered hair to moistened eyes, confusion and disorientation mending into one within them. Neither him nor Ignis commented on the blond's disheveled appearance, deciding it wasn't their business to pry unless it should become a reoccurring and troubling matter.
"I'm going to get breakfast started," Ignis gracefully got to his feet, casting a fleeting glance at Noctis, earning an equally bewildered look back. He gave a quick and knowing bow in confirmation, "Anyone want anything in particular before I begin?" The chorus of 'nahs' and 'nopes' sounded off to his back, each one like a throwing knife laced with annoyance. Of course, no one ever decided, left to his own accord as per usual.
Prompto peeled away the cover with tremor-racked fingers, tossing his legs over the edge of the bed when he felt unreasonably warm all of a sudden. "Well, I'm taking a shower," he announced, the need to wash away the tacky substance prevalent. Stiffness invaded his joints as he walked, tension pulling at his muscles in an oblivious attempt to make himself appear smaller to hide his blinding embarrassment; only taking the time to relax once the door was closed and his connection the others was shut off. He let out an elongated breath and brushed his clinging bangs to the side, cringing at the way they adhered to his fingers in the process.
He leaned over the sink, turning the cold water on to max and splashed a generous amount over his grimy features, flinching at the chill that brought him to full alertness. 'Calm down, it was a dream, get over it,' he scolded himself internally, finding the entire thing somewhat laughable. He wasn't a child anymore, he shouldn't be this unsettled by things like that. Gazing in the mirror, he fixed a stare with himself, almost expecting to see those same voided spheres looking back; a silly thing to predict, honestly.
Biting his lip, he shoved himself off the edge of the basin and made quick work of that shower he had been so inclined to take, turning the water on to be mostly cool in hopes it would pacify his unease. He let the water filter through his fingers for a good while, starting to have second thoughts about the temperature now that he could feel how unpleasant it was really going to turn out to be. But, he ceased his internal whining and sucked it up; the chill would do wonders for his loitering worries and he knew it.
For longer than he should have, he simply stood there, allowing the tendrils of coolness to cascade down him as it carried his hair down to drape around his face. One hand was fixed against the tiles, supporting the rest of his body while he focused on clearing his muddled thoughts, tilting his head back and let the streams rinse over his face and relished in how much better it already felt as the tackiness slowly ebbed away.
Outside, Ignis listened as he heard the water start, its continuous pelting against the porcelain surface, falling into the background of the sizzling that sounded in the pan. Absentmindedly, he pushed the eggs around, their whites jiggled soothingly as they skated around. As golden rivers flooded into the pristine whites, he snapped back into focus, swearing to himself for messing up on something as simple as eggs. Oh well, it wasn't that much of an issue, he supposed he'd just have to change them to scrambled instead; it would work out just as well.
It was then that the drawling voice of some random news reporter flowed into where he was, only a few words being picked up, but he was easily able to piece together what they were going on about in such an admirable tone; something about the prince, that much was certain. Going on and on about him being in their great city and relaying the events that everyone was already filled in on, and he felt a bit of irritation at the need they felt to perpetually remind and drag on about it. "Can you please change it to something else?" Noctis asked, the same annoyance Ignis felt lacing his words. The voice was instantly silenced, a new one taking its place, this one having a much more deadpanned tone, paused interjecting occasional as what he was saying was obviously difficult to get out there.
The fading of the other's conversation only assisted and making the man's words more punctual and more painful as each word uttered drove a stake through each of them. All other words fell silent to them, only three striking them; "King Regis dead," those words deafening them to all else. The popping in front of him seemed to sound more like mini explosions now, the monotone sound of the shower becoming overwhelming as it blanketed him. Fingers unconsciously tightened around his utensil; 'What the hell?'
"What!?" Came Noctis' new and contrasting enraged injected voice, a loud and sudden bang sounding from the other room, causing the walls to shake slightly with the force. "What the fuck is this all about!?" His words cracked, crumbled under his unbelievably denial, "Is this some sort of sick joke!? Do they honestly think this shit is funny, or amusing!?"
"Noct, calm down-" Gladio attempted to placate.
"Don't tell me to calm down!" the prince snapped back, the sounds of a clear scuffle as he broke free from the other's calming hand, back-handing the offending hand away. "How am I supposed to act about this? They're claiming my father is dead!" Uncomfortable silence, only being broken by the still rambling on from the television. Heavy and angered breaths puffed out as he tried desperately to keep his rage in check. Ignis kept his head down, keeping to himself for the time being; there was no use in trying to talk things out with Noctis now, not with him as livid as he currently was. "I'll be back," no one tried to stop him, no one wanted to stop him, as he brushed past the adviser, none to gently, and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him as he exited.
The others remained as they were, shock encasing them, preventing them from acting; Ignis only doing so when he was rudely reminded of what he was previously doing; smoke and burning aroma drafting into his nostrils. In alarm, he swiftly switched the burner off and transferred the pan to the sink, flooding it with a steam of water before anything had the chance to catch flame. Fixated as he was, he almost missed the shower switching off, the opening of the door, and even the questioning concerns the blond was voicing as he entered their area in a bewildered panic; water was still dripping off his saturated hair, splattering on the floor from his half assed attempt of drying off. "Wha-what's going on?" he stammered, teeth clacking together with arms wrapped around himself. He glanced around, searching hopelessly for his friend, coming back empty, "Where's Noct?" The silence and averted gazes that answered him piqued his worries, bubbling up as already potent unease.
Gladio looked towards the image on the screen, Prompto following suit, pictures and footage of the downfall of their home playing out, commentary overwriting the destructive orchestra as they explained what had taken place, what tragedies had befallen the city. His mouth fell open in unspoken inquiries, his vocals unable to form the questions that swarmed him. "I think he needs some time to himself, he'll come around and we can talk things out then," Gladio placed a hand on Prompto's shoulder, a friendly gesture that the other slinked out from under.
"Where did he go?" he asked, words tumbling out without hesitation, "Where is he?" He didn't wait for an answer, shoes already being pulled on, thrown on haphazardly.
"Just wait for him to come back," Gladio tried to reason, "This city is huge, there's no telling where he is by now. For all we know he probably warped off somewhere we can't even get to," he sat on the edge of the bed, dropping himself onto uncivilly and ran a shaking hand through his tousled, grease-stricken hair. Breathing in deeply, he let his hand fall down onto his lap, "Better if we just wait." The man glanced up at the other when he stepped by, steps taken in long and hurried strides, "Hey, I just said-"
"I don't care what you said, I'm going after him," the blond jogged towards the door, ignoring the other's borderline pleading recommendations to remain there. Ignis, on the other hand, treated this the same as he did Noctis, both of them being just as stubborn as the other, he knew there was no use in saying anything against it. They would both follow their emotions, tossing reason and logic aside in order to divulge in those driving feelings.
The bite of the crisp morning air stung ten fold due to his still drenched form, and pulling his vest tighter and more snug around himself, he set off despite having zero indication as to where the prince had gone; hell, he didn't even know where anything was in this city, so he was destined to get himself lost. Though, that wasn't his main predicament at the moment, he had far more urgent things to entertain his mind with which, of course, was finding Noct before he got himself into to trouble or did something foolish he would come to regret. He glanced up and down the street, which were crowded and bustling even at this early hour. Looking towards the direction with with the least amount of commotion, he decided on that one, realizing Noctis would have wanted to be as alone as possible.
"Noct!" he called out on repeat, his own voice quickly grating down on his nerves as each one was met with confused stares and curious mumbling from those around him; he was aware of how foolish he must have appeared, soaking wet, clothes thrown on without caution as he roamed the streets calling out for the prince. He felt like a complete mad man as his head swiveled to here and there, meeting gazes of meddling onlookers who didn't bother to hide their digging eyes. "Noctis! Come on man!" he yelled out again, locking eyes with an older woman setting him with a worried look, probably wondering what someone such as himself was doing at a time like this. Ducking his head, he kept moving forward, holding his stare on his feet as to avoid anymore awkward eye contact with prying strangers. He grit his teeth as he side stepped out of another gawking passerby, muttering something incoherent but clearly offensive under his breath at the alarm-stricken blond's behavior.
In his search obsessed and water soddened state, he was almost unaware of the first speck of moisture that struck his cheek; it wasn't until the third or fourth that he was alerted to the oncoming downpour, drops picking up speed and coming down in renewed forces. His soaked body was refreshed with moisture in a matter of seconds. "Noct!" he shouted out again, voice being drowned out easily ad effectively in the choir of precipitation, and his heart fell with it. Swearing under his breath, he veered to the side to finally shield himself from the rain, taking refuge under an overpass. Shivering and huffing through clattering teeth, he slid down the length of the concrete wall, sliding down and drawing his knees up in order to rest his chin on them, he stared forward.
With a sigh, he leaned his head back, switching his vacant stare to look above him, scanning over the various cracks and blemishes that adorned the underside. "Where the hell are you?" he breathed out, directing it at no one in particular, maybe it was towards himself, but whatever it was, it didn't help any. Not that he expected it to. Closing his eyes, he allowed the soothing sounds of rain to carry his troubled mind, wondering fruitlessly where the other could have gone, but at the same time giving up on finding him anywhere. Gladio was right, he should just head back and wait there for him to return; it made a hell of a lot more sense then sitting here like a stray dog wondering aimlessly for his missing owner.
He groaned as he pushed himself back up, his clothes clinging to him heavily and making every small move uncomfortable and stiff. For a moment he stood there, admiring the sheen and overlay of gray the weather brought up, and with a deep breath and another fleeting glance around, took a step out into the watery fray. A shuffling noise. Quick and sudden; gone as soon as he heard it.
"Noct?" He asked quietly, an edge of disquiet to his question.
Again, a scurry of subtle noises, scuffling off somewhere behind him.
He spun in his heel, "Noctis? You there buddy?" his words bounced back, fading when they reached the curtain of rain behind him, "Come on, I just want to talk, we don't have to go back yet." For the first time, he glanced around, just now recognizing the area, eyes landing in the staircase that lead downward, his stomach clenching at the recollection of his dream and he begged to any god that was listening that Noctis wasn't hiding out down there. As he pleaded with the divine, the sound teased him again, this time it was escorted by a voice, a familiar one at that. 'Dammit,' he swore to himself, "Noct, I'm coming down, alright?" Of course, he got no response just like usual.
Curses and remarks of despair reverberated up and around the blond, each punctuated by one of the princes sobs of dismay. Prompto swallowed his fear, shoved down his childish trepidation and strode over to the top of the stairs and gazed down, foot hovering over the first step in danging apprehension. 'Noct needs you, stop letting a stupid dream hold you back,' he berated himself, lowering his foot to greet that first decline. The next few came more easily, reluctant and still forced, but more smoothly. "Come on, man, at least say something, his tone solicited for a reply, for confirmation that it was indeed his friend that he was hearing and not another ploy set in play from his over reactive imagination.
A humanized sound responded, though it didn't sound like Noct, it didn't sound like anyone he knew, but it did come across as someone he knew, or someone he needed to go to. He breath caught in his throat, clenching painfully as his feet continued to move on their own, taking one stair purposefully at a time until he was standing at the bottom once more; and, he hoped to everything, anything, that this was just another dream. But something nagged at him, and pestered him, that it was anything except for that. His heart skipped though, either in shock or relief he wasn't sure, though it fluttered at the curled up form leaning in the corner; their shoulders shook with obvious cries, sniffles and wails frequently being expelled from its position. Ruffled and dark fingers jutted from the top, obscuring the face that resided underneath.
Prompto blinked a few times, making sure his eyesight was clear and pristine before walking slowly over, "There you are," he whispered, stopping a couple feet away, "You had me worried for a minute there," he laughed nervously, heart bleeding for what Noctis must be feeling right now. "You wanna talk about it, or would you rather be left alone?"
The other continued his rhythmic cries, almost as if his actions were on repeat, a record stuck on a scratch, replaying the same few notes over and over. Prompto stepped closer, stopping when he could almost touch the other, "Noct?" he asked, becoming gripped with fear and bound by concern, "Hey, you in there?" he chuckled again, the sound lacking all humor and amusement though. He shook his head, droplets of water flying in either direction, and took that one last step required in order to place an attention seeking hand upon his shoulder. The contact surged soul-clutching terror up his arms, grasping at his chest; he felt cold, not in the rain-soaked sense, but in the encased in a frozen embrace sensation.
"Hilf mir," Noctis muttered, leaning even further forward, head almost touching the wooden surface of the flooring, "Bitte hilf mir," his voice cracked from clear sorrow and suffering.
"Noctis, I-what are you saying? I can't," he gasped as the chill stung at his limbs and heart, threatening to stop it with each beat it produced, "I can't understand you."
"Warum lässt du mich nicht einfach gehen?" his shudders and trembles came to a halt, a deathly stillness that urged the blond to move, to get out of there, but his legs were rooted in place, forbidding him from fleeing, preventing him from running from whatever this was. "Ich will gehen, warum darf ich nicht?" his head rotated slowly to the side, eyes becoming visible at last as the stared pleadingly up into Prompto's, lifeless orbs of swirled and stroked black peering into him and picking him apart from the inside, "Lass mich raus."
Ok, so, I really hope the whole king death thing didn't sound too forced, but I did need them in Altissia before the whole Leviathan thing went down, but I also needed a way for the wedding to be postponed/canceled and this was the only way I could think of doing it. But, with the timeline, I assumed this is about where it might have occurred if they weren't delayed, so let me know if it doesn't work.