A/N: This is a chapter that I've actually put much thought into, so read and enjoy it! I hope this was worth the sleepless night I put into it…

Chapter 4: Cars Build Relationships


Unbeknownst to Mr. Caelum, Noctis, and Lightning, Prompto had left the moment that the girl had entered the room. He just couldn't believe that it was her. It would be too much of a coincidence if it had really been her.

Yet, he knew by now that there really weren't any coincidences. He'd had his fair share of doubts; but the turns of events in his life had more than proven that there were no coincidences.

Prompto could talk all day about it. Once, as a child, he'd lost his favorite teddy bear on the playground (which, by the way, he had named Balthier). Crying his eyes out, he went back the next day and kicked a random tree—and from the branches fell out Balthier. A magpie had taken him (because of his shiny button eyes) and carried him to its nest on the lowest branch of that tree.

Another time, he'd snuck into their middle school's cafeteria to sneak some laxative into the stew (of which neither Prompto, Noctis, nor Ignis had partaken). As he did so, his ring fell in, and, with it being too risky, he had left it, much against his will. Later on, when he got a serving of the deadly stew anyway—to avoid rousing suspicion—he discovered in his small bowl the ring he had lost.

And another time. He'd read the newspapers one time, and saw on a small portion of the front page a short article about one of his schoolmates receiving an award for singing. He'd wished vaguely that he could meet her—Prompto was interested in music—and when he was walking up the stairs to his room, he'd heard a loud squeal, and the girl in question fell from the upper floor onto the unfortunate Prompto.

He'd learned his lesson by now that there were no coincidences.

Yet, it was hard not to think of this situation as one. For that girl—that Farron girl—unless he was horribly mistaken, which he doubted, was his childhood friend. He'd remembered vaguely in his early childhood living next to a family.

Prompto remembered that there had been a warm, kind mother; a gentle bear of a father; a small, energetic little sister; and a quiet, reserved, pink-haired girl. He was not at all sure; but the family's surname might have been Farron. The pink-haired girl must definitely have been Lightning.

And here she was, betrothed to his best friend.

Lightning Farron…he didn't remember that name. Wait. He recalled faintly a situation in his childhood, wherein he'd asked the pink-haired girl about her peculiar name.

"It's not really my name. It was a nickname given to me by my baby sister. I suppose she called me that because I always won at out races. My name is Clair. Well, Éclair, actually, but that's a pastry, and a pastry I don't like. So, do me a solid and call me Clair, alright?"

Clair… Éclair… Éclair "Lightning" Farron. Prompto remembered now. This was definitely his friend. He remembered her rather boyish way of speaking, and although the Lightning now had sounded as ladylike as could be (he'd heard the awful argument), there was an unmistakable air of boyishness there.

This was a really bad situation.

Well, there was one thing to do—when in doubt, find your best friend who's betrothed to your former best friend. Wait, one of your best friends. Damn, he'd always forget about Ignis, that fucker. Then again, it was his own fault that he had to be so busy all the time. No one exactly asked Ignis to go off and be a famous personage.

So, when the argument had finished, Noctis and Lightning—hell, he won't call her that!—Noctis and Clair must have gone off separate ways. There was no way they'd walk together after that bitch fight. (Yes, that argument qualified as a bitch fight, at least according to Prompto.)

Prompto went back to the hallway outside Mr. Caelum's office. There were two separate ways he could take—left or right. Question was, which way had Noctis gone off to?

Prompto scratched his head and thought for a moment. Then he opted to take right—Noctis would never admit it, but he loved everything right. He loved his right hand, foot, eye, ear, leg, arm, all the right parts of his body slightly more than his left side. He sat on the right side of their classroom, he kept all his stuff on the right, hell, he did everything right. So, Prompto rushed down the right side of the corridor.

The right side, however, turned out to be the wrong side.

Running down the hallway, he found, not Noctis as he would've thought, but Clair. Oh shit, thought Prompto. Here comes trouble.

He stopped in his tracks and briefly considered running back before she saw him—no, too late, she turned around. She must've been expecting Noctis, because she had a dangerous expression and she looked up for a fight. "Huh? You back for more, you—oh."

Prompto tried for a smile. "Yeah, I'm not your boyfriend. Just some, ah…a guy looking for him. You wouldn't happen to know where he went, would you?"

"Just turn around, and head straight on. He should be there," Clair replied, albeit very quietly and with her head down, like she was embarrassed.

"Thank you," sighed Prompto. He turned around. Damn, maybe I could get out of this without raising any suspicion about—

"Wait!"

Shit. I thought not.

"Yes?" Prompto turned back to Clair. She looked very agitated. "H-have we met before? You—you look very familiar," she asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," Prompto lied easily. He was not about to reveal that he was her long-lost childhood friend. Why, he didn't know. It just didn't feel right to tell her yet.

"Oh…okay. You just really looked like—you know what, forget about it. Can—can I have your name though?" Clair asked.

"The name's Clark. Clark Anderson."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Anderson. My name is Éclair Farron," Clair said, smiling sweetly. God, he hadn't seen that smile in ages…

Stop it! You can't go back.

Clair walked away.

Prompto stood still for a few minutes. Then he turned and ran.


Lightning's thoughts were racing. That guy had looked exactly like her old friend, Prompto. She remembered him clearly from her childhood, a lively boy who lived next door with his family. It might have been years later, but she'd never forget the face of the boy who had saved her sister's life before.

Seems like everybody's saving Serah…but hell, if her sister was safe, Lightning was in no position to complain, was she?

She remembered her sister playing in the pond. Serah had called out to her, laughing—then she'd slipped and fallen. Lightning was helpless—not even her speed could reach Serah before she submerged. Fortunately, Prompto had been nearby. He'd grabbed her sister—pulled her to safety—and smiled at Lightning as thought it had been no problem.

Great. I owe my sister's life to two guys. One who I thought I'd never see again and one who hates my guts, apparently.

This was too much. Too much had happened in one day—she'd caught a glimpse of the mystery guy, had found him then lost him in a bitch fight (See? Even Lightning thought it was a bitch fight.), and had seen an exact replica of her childhood friend.

This day just keeps getting better and better, thought Lightning bitterly.

Everything about today just made Lightning want to cry. She'd never cried before—not when Serah had almost drowned (although she did scream), not when her favorite action figure had broken, not when her favorite character of her favorite cartoon had died. (Lightning loved action series.)

This was too much to handle. Her head ached. She needed fresh air. She went outside the building and stood silently, breathing in the fresh air.

It made her feel a tiny bit better.

Then the whole world pulsed. It throbbed painfully, making everything seem red, then blue, then a sickening shade of yellow.

Lightning doubled over. Oh n-no… I can't be having one now, can I?

The unmistakable pains in her head and body told her otherwise.


"Noctis! Noctis you fuckshit, where are you?" cursed Prompto. He needed to find that gay bitch quickly. His dilemma had to be shared with him.

He walked down the corridor a little more swiftly. His problem was serious. If Clair was really the girl he thought she was, there was something Noctis had to know about her. And fast.

Clair had never shared to anyone besides Prompto and her family before, but Clair was horribly ill. Prompto'd forgotten what the condition was called, exactly, but apparently if Clair got too emotional or stressed, she experiences dangerous, coma-like blackouts. And more often than not, it took days for her to wake up.

Prompto knew for a fact she was stressed right now. Who wouldn't be, after a horrible argument with their fiancé? And, if she was really as stressed as he guessed she was…God, this wasn't good. There was no one around her to care for her, as well. If she'd blacked out now…

The thought made Prompto run all the more faster.

Finally, he saw a familiar head of black hair bobbing along the corridor. Considering how long it had been after the huge tantrum, Prompto was surprised at how slow Noctis had been walking, for him to still be in the same corridor.

"Noctis!" Prompto called out desperately. "Noctis!"

The man in question turned around. He had a hollow smile on his face. He looked empty and worn out. "Hey, Prompto. Come to yell at me too?"

Prompto grabbed Noctis' collar and shook him roughly. "Quit the self-pity and listen to me! There's something you should know about Claire!"

"Clair? Who's Clair?"

Prompto cursed himself. Of course. Noctis didn't know Clair's real name yet. He still thought of her as Lightning—wait, did Noctis even know her name? Prompto hadn't heard any real introduction in the bitch fight.

"Never mind. There's something you should know about your fiancée. It's important as hell, so you better listen."

"I wasn't aware you knew anything about my fiancée, and I wasn't aware that you could give me orders, either."

"Shut the hell up, and grow up, Noctis! Listen! Your fiancée is ill! Horribly ill! When she gets too stressed out, she goes into a coma of sorts, alright? She goes into a coma, and it's extremely hard for her to wake up. And she's as sure as hell way stressed out, after going through your bitching!" snarled Prompto.

Formalities could wait. Clair's condition was on the line.

Noctis was silent. He stared at Prompto's gray irises, apparently trying to see if the blond was joking. The blond, however, had never been more serious in his whole life. This was a matter of life and death. The more Clair blacked out, the more her health deteriorated, and if that was the case, then this raven-haired bastard was definitely going to be the death of her.

"So what should I do? It's not like I can whip out a magic wand or something and magically cure her," replied Noctis quietly.

"Go to her. Make sure she's okay. If anything happens to Clair, I will personally grab you and put you through a shredder. Then I'll make you a grave, scatter your bits on it, and then dance the shit out of it. Go. To. Her."

Noctis was the hella bravest guy on earth (well, maybe, "reckless," was the right word) but he cowered under Prompto's glare. Nevertheless, he looked suspiciously at his best friend. "Why do you care so much about her? As far as I know, you've only seen her today," he asked coldly.

"That's not important. Now go. Every second that we're standing here is another second that Clair could be lying helpless on the ground and slowly dying."

That was all Noctis needed. He ran.

Prompto hesitated only a bit before he ran after him.


They paused at the lobby, out of breath. Panting, Noctis punched the wall. "Where is she?" he growled.

Prompto looked out the window and gasped. Clair was on the pavement, convulsing gently. "There!" he cried.

Noctis looked out. "Shit!"

They ran outside. "Why didn't anyone help her yet? Are they stupid?" snarled Prompto.

They were still a long way from her. As they ran, they saw a car rushing towards her.

"No," whispered Noctis. Why did she decide to black out in the parking lot, of all places?

He sprinted and lunged. He swept his fiancée into his arms. As he saw the black Cadillac racing towards them, he knew right there and then that this was exactly how he wanted to die—with the love of his life in his arms.

Okay, maybe she was conscious in his dreams, but hell, he'd take it.

He loved her. He kissed her forehead and braced himself.

Prompto screamed.

Noctis closed his eyes.

Lightning stirred.


A/N: Sorry to leave you hanging like that! But as I've said, I've spent a sleepless night on this, so, eventually, I had to stop writing and go to bed. This is one of my more serious works, though, so I hope you like it!

Oh, and in case there's another need to explain.

Éclair "Lightning" Farron = Prompto's childhood friend, and vice versa.

I hope this make sense!

Next Chapter: He's Your What?