Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and istoleyourcheesecake

This chapter ended up waaaaaay longer than I had intended, but hey, at the point where the teaser left off at least. XD


He felt like everything was collapsing: his world, his emotions, and even his lungs, his breaths were becoming more burdensome and more painful to force in. Words fluttered around him, tickling his ears, but he couldn't comprehend them; he recognized the voice as Ignis', but that was it. Prompto knew he was there as well, he knew they were all there, but he couldn't shed that sensation of utter isolation. What the hell was going on? He wanted to get out of here, away from all of it, but he couldn't move; either his body or someone else wasn't granting him that ability as he felt a tightness close around him. But oddly enough, it wasn't painful or unwelcomed; it was secure and... comforting? The blond was able to piece his crumbling mind back together long enough to figure out it was arms that were enveloped so guardedly around him.

"Prompto, just take a moment, and breathe," Ignis spoke softly, almost inaudibly, his breath fluttering against the younger's ear as he spoke. One of his hands wandered to the back of Prompto's head, holding it there on his shoulder to keep it in place as he slowly turned them around; doing so to make sure the painting was out of his sight and so it wouldn't cause further upset. With the other held so close, he felt each and every minor and greater tremor that traveled through his form; every breath was manually taken and was strained to be pushed back out. Small and near-desperate whimpers sounded out between each one and uncontrolled gasps of air gripped at all of them.

"Ignis," Gladio finally found his voice again, the initial shock finally fleeting his vocal chords. "If you know what this is about, then I think you should tell us." It was more of a suggestion than a demand.

Said man remained in this position, throwing a glance towards the shield. "I highly doubt this is the time to be explaining anything," his voice was saturated with unspoken obviousness. He took a deep breath when the chest heaving against him gradually fell into a more normal rhythm, "Later, when we get back to our room and everyone has had a chance to process and collect themselves, then we'll talk about it." He gently placed his hands on either of Prompto's upper arms and carefully pulled him away to look him in the eyes: blue orbs that continued to hold an essence of terrified confusion. "Are you alright now?" 'Of course he's not,' he mentally noted.

Heavily contrasting his clear struggle, the blond nodded slow, "I-I think so." He swallowed thickly, shoving back the urge his body had to vomit. "I will be," he quickly corrected.

"If you still need a moment, it's no problem," the adviser calmly assured, not wanting the other to feel obligated to pull himself together faster than he needed to. It was understandable for the situation to take such a high toll on one, especially when involving something of another world entirely. "Are you sure you're fine?" he kept one hand on the side of his face to prevent him from looking to the others, wanting an honest and uninfluenced answer.

"Really, I'm good," Prompto placed his own hand over the brunet's and easily brought it away, slipping out of the man's supportive hold to stand on wobbly legs, "Can we just go back now?" His eyes shifted uncomfortable to the stairs as he bit his lower lip, and Ignis couldn't help but cringe at how vulnerable he appeared in that moment; it wasn't something he was used to seeing. Slender and pale arms raised to wrap around himself and unsure feet moved their way towards the exit.

Keeping an eye on his departing back, he waved a hand to the others, "Come on, it shouldn't be long before the sun rises, and it would not be in our best interest to be caught down here." His soft footfalls quickly matched that of the gunners, but with longer strides, he easily caught up with the younger and remained at his left flank as they walked; he didn't entirely trust the man not to collapse just yet.

The others were left behind in relative stunned silence, Gladio's hand still held out in front of him. "Did that really just happen?" he asked, not really expecting an answer; he still didn't want to believe it himself. It just didn't make sense, "Did that... I really hurt him?" He finally lowered his hand to look over to where the others were just a few seconds earlier and took a deep breath, "Guess I kinda made an ass of myself."

"Kinda?" Noctis bit venomously. "That's putting it lightly, don't ya think?" There was no hiding his boiling over disappointment and disgust any longer; and he wasn't sure why that was, perhaps it was procured from the shock or the fear, "You were practically cuffing him yourself!" He was slightly caught off guard by the lack of a reaction the other presented, if anything it looked as though he had nothing to say about it: no objections, no defenses, and no explanations. "What, you don't have any more of your brilliant theories?" he spat the last two words, eyes cut over to dig into the larger man.

Gladio huffed a breath and let his hand finally fall completely to his side, "I'll admit that I was wrong, and I'll admit that I owe Prompto an apology. But, I did nothing wrong in suspecting that something wasn't right." He willed himself to walk forward, shoving past the raven as he was about to retort in a clear gesture that he was done with the short-lived conversation. He already felt guilty and ashamed as it was, he didn't need someone else to remind him how he should feel. As he reached the top of the stairs, he tossed one last look over his shoulder, looking once again at the scratch that marred the image. His eyes then shifted down to Noctis, he remained how he was, attention also now directed at the painting.


The journey back to their room was nothing more than a blur; the memory of it being heavily overshadowed by the concern that loomed in the back of his mind. Prompto barely recognized where he was until he was steered to turn to the left, then he glanced around his surroundings. They were back at the hotel, and letting his curiosity guide his attention higher, he could make out a bit of coloration painting the once drab sky. "Oh, guess it's morning," he tried to sound casual, but his voice was weighed down by that same gloomy anchor.

"Yes, it's almost seven now," Ignis flatly replied, entertaining the younger with the facade of a normal conversation. He retrieved the key from his pocket and swiped it, "I think we're all in need of a cup of coffee by now," he pushed the door open and held it for the blond to step through. "And I may as well get breakfast started while I'm at it," he muttered under his breath. Prompto said nothing as he dragged himself in; he understood what Ignis was doing, and he really did appreciate it, but he couldn't muster the same level of optimism and familiarity. He just felt like curling up somewhere and giving up. "Want a cup while I'm making myself one?"

"Sure," he shrugged, walking over to the table to slump into one of the chairs before his legs had the opportunity to give out on him. Deprived of anything other than trepidation, he placed his head on the table, the coolness of the polished wood feeling quite soothing against his blemished cheek. His eyes slid shut momentarily, and for a bit he savored it, appreciating the short minute of imitated rest; that moment being cut off by his burrowing unrest. Prompto's eyes shot open, and he jolted back upwards, almost overturning the brewed cup that had just been placed next to him. Breaths came out punctuated and labored, his heart picking up again. "S-sorry," he quickly apologized, hands moving to wrap around his cup. Warmth immediately flowed up his fingers, assisting in chasing away some of the internal chill.

Ignis shook his head, indicating that it was alright, and for a while they both took small and reluctant sips of their coffee, more or less trying to revel in the little time there was for that. The way the blond kept glancing over at him gave way to the fact that he was dying to ask something; something that was eating away at him ever since that minor yet excruciatingly terrifying encounter. "As soon as the other two get back, I promise, I'll explain all that I can. I'm not sure exactly what's going on, nor all the details, but I do have a rough idea."

Prompto still didn't reply; he didn't really know how, didn't know how he should feel or react to any of this. He was bewildered and horrified, yes, but he also felt somewhat indifferent, and to be honest, that was that part that scared him the most. His sudden lack of interest in the issue, and the emptiness he felt in the current moment. He could have simply blamed it on himself getting overwhelmed, his earlier panic-induced episode draining him of his fear and anxiety. "Ok," he gruffly replied, the single word struggling to work its way out and even hitching on its way out. His gaze dropped to watch the ripples run through his beverage, staring down at his muddied and warped reflection.

With another blink, he caught the sight of a disorganized face right next to his own. Eyes widened, and drawing in a sharp gasp, he twisted around, the abrupt movement even startling the normally composed strategist. He blinked a few more times in rapid succession, half expecting to see the figure again, but it was no use. "Prompto, it's quite alright, you're safe," the other attempted to alleviate the small outburst of frantic suspicion.

"I just... yeah, I think I'm just paranoid," the blond gazed in that direction for only a moment longer and slowly turned back, this time keeping his attention somewhere other than in his cup. "I'm probably just tired," he smiled nervously, making excuses for himself more than Ignis at this point; he refused to accept the things he was seeing, the things he was hearing or feeling. It just wasn't real, it couldn't be. But, everything pushed him towards it and made it more challenging to refuse. His fingers were now dancing apprehensively over the table's surface, another electrified burst of energy surged through him, but this time it was triggered by the door opening. "Noct, Gladdy," he muttered, almost forgetting that they weren't here.

The shield offered him a head bow of acknowledgement. "Yeah, sorry it took so long, we kinda had, well, ran into some issues," he spoke heatedly, his words only being cooled by the shaken revelations. He took the seat next to Prompto and exchanged a few awkward and uncomfortable glances with him, the words, 'You were practically cuffing him yourself!' replaying in his head. Clearing his throat and leaning his elbows against the table, he intertwined his fingers to rest his chin on top of them, "Listen, Prom, about the whole, uh, drug thing," he turned his head away to mutter that part. "I was mistaken, and I guess what I'm trying to say is," he rubbed the back of his neck and relaxed back a little. "I'm sorry, I should have had a bit more faith in you." His teeth were grit by the end of his apology, his pride taking a massive hit in the process, but the relief from getting it out there countered it nicely.

"I understand," was all he got as a response, the golden head going to lie back against the table, but he kept the eye contact, and Gladio found it somewhat unsettling; the unfocused gaze resting on him. There was no anger or disappointment; only acknowledgement and acceptance, and for some reason, to him, that was worse.

"So," Noctis sat in the remaining seat with a small huff, "About that explaining." He set Ignis with a prying gaze, determination in his eyes. At that insinuation, the others looked to him as well, both watching him intently, waiting for answers.

The brunette shifted in his chair nervously, his attention falling to his hands while his words sorted themselves out on the back of his tongue, which tasted bitter and vile. "Are you sure you want to know?" he glanced back to their faces, each of which continued to hold that expression of demand, "Right, I don't know what I expected. I suppose I should start off easy, that being that whatever is going on, it's clear that it's of paranormal nature; something that none of us are equipped to take care of." He could physically feel the deviation in the atmosphere, growing sickeningly thick with dread. "But," he picked back up, "This is something Lady Lunafreya is well achieved in, so there is no doubt in my mind that she will know and be quite capable of solving this."

A light cough, and the three of them turned towards Prompto, "When you say 'paranormal', what you really mean is possession, don't you?" They were silent, taken aback by the bluntness of that statement; and Ignis had planned on working to that point, not wanting to jump right to it just from the severity of that assessment. The delay from the adviser had told him enough. "I thought so," he pushed himself up and started dragging his feet into the other part of their room, "I'm tired, so I think I'll, uh, just take a nap."

"And that damn painting has everything to do with this?" Noctis spat, trying to keep the conversation going and ignoring the whole doom and gloom the best he was able. "How the hell does that even work?" His tone came off as slightly unbelieving despite what he laid witness to, but it was still fresh in his mind and he honestly didn't want it to be true.

Gladio hummed next to him, wanting to know the same thing. "It would appear so," Ignis sighed, the man also a bit surprised and bothered by the discovery, "At any rate, there is a connection, and by no means a meager one." His eyes narrowed at the thoughts and inquiries popping up in his mind.

"I say we just destroy the damn thing and be done with it," Noctis growled out more harshly and loudly than he had intended; his chair skidding back as it was shoved aside. But, a strong and firm clasp on his wrist all but gently yanked him back down, "Tch, What?" He met glaring amber eyes.

"Is that something you really wanna risk?" his voice was low and daring, the hidden message making itself clear as day.

"Gladio's right," the adviser crossed his arms over his chest. "It would be in everyone's," he flashed a glance in the blond's direction, "-best interest if no more damage came to that specific object should it do more harm than good." He grew quiet for a moment, his eyes dulling over in a spectacle of his obvious show of scheming and planning, "It should be kept safe for the time being; it being where it is still has a chance of being damaged should the wrong hands come across it."

The way he spoke strongly insinuated just what he wanted to do. "Iggy, I'm pretty sure that's stealing," the king blinked a few times, the usual law-abiding strategist considering theft boggling his mind.

"I prefer the term 'borrowing'," he flicked his emeralds up at him. "I promise, it will get returned to its rightful place."

The shield couldn't stop the sly smile from showing and the light chuckle from sounding, "I like where this is going. Well, let's get to it then." It was now his turn to make an attempt to leave.

"We can't very well just go in and take it," Ignis reminded with a subtly disappointed look on his face. "Especially not in the light of day; there are far too many witnesses and we would be caught before even stepping out." He looked down, both hands placed flatly on the table to push himself up, "We will wait until later tonight, for now, I have some supplies I need to pick up. We are running low on groceries and other necessities." There was a glint in his eye that betrayed him about him telling the whole truth. It was a devious shine that was so uncommon in the man that the others decided not to comment on the matter. "You two think you can handle the cooking? Though, I don't entirely trust your pallet or skill in the slightest, but I'm unsure as to when I'll return. In fact, maybe just make yourselves some toast, it's low risk."

"Have a little more confidence in us, would ya?" Noctis asked with a scowl.

The brute roughly patted him on the back, "I think he's right, Noct. Last time you cooked anything we all had food poisoning for nearly a week. Toast sounds preferable."

"It wasn't that bad," he mumbled under his breath, but his embarrassment of the memory prevented him from voicing his personal opinion any louder. "This place doesn't even have a toaster," he added with a quick glance around; he only spotted the stove and a microwave, "How are we even supposed to make it?"

"Use your imagination," Ignis suggested, already heading to the door and walking out of it before he could be asked any more questions. Noctis pursed his lips in annoyance. "Is it possible to microwave bread?" he wondered out loud, seriously considering trying it to find out.

The larger man sighed audibly, "Don't worry, I'll fix a simple something, I at least know how to do a few things without burning the place down or poisoning anyone." He stepped over to the cabinets to search through them, digging around until he came across a box of pancake mix. "Well, I guess this will work well enough. Prom!" he called loud enough to be heard, "Don't fall asleep just yet if ya can help it." He peeked around the corner to find just a lump of blankets, his head completely covered as he got no reply in return, "Alright, little late for that, I suppose."

Noctis remained in his seat, staring off in nothing, losing himself in thought. He was unsure of how to handle all this news at once. It was like being punched in the stomach right after being sprayed in the face with pepper spray; just one slap in the face after another until he formed the beginning of a discombobulated clusterfuck. First there was the tragedy that struck Insomnia just the other day, and now they had to deal with some pestering spirit on top of that. His thumb drifted up to his temple to massage soothing circles into it, the side of his head throbbed with the thinking energy it required. "This is all just too much," he mumbled, to no one in particular, though he still got a hum from Gladio signifying his agreement.

"Noct, go turn something on, it's too quiet in here, gonna go insane from it," the shield nodded in the direction of the tv. At first Noctis sort of glared at it, his opinion of it still a little tainted from the last time it was on and he was fairly certain enough time hadn't gone by for any news of his home to be over with by now. "You don't have to turn it to a news station, ya'know," he added seeing the expression on his face.

"I know that," the kind replied flatly, closing his eyes and getting up. "I'll find something boring for some background noise though," he sighed, walking over to scoop the remote off one of the bedside tables. "I suppose this will do," he left it turned to some kind of infomercial, the forced energetic voice only slightly agitating.

"That'll do," the brute commented. "Anything to drown out this gloom," he shrugged, pouring the first of the batter into the pan, the sounds of the sizzling mixing nostalgically with the enthusiastic tones.

Noctis glanced over at the covers, the rise and fall of them were rhythmic and normal, "Should I wake him?"

"Nah," he waved a hand, "Let 'em sleep, I'll just make him some when he wakes up if he wants any." He grabbed a spatula to tease the edges of the cake, pursing his lips when he managed to rip part of it. They didn't have to look presentable as far as he was concerned, as long as they were edible.

"Not asleep," the muffled and miserable voice filtered through the materials. "Can't sleep," he added with a heavy and irked sigh, the cover flinging off him as he shoved it aside in order to sit up. "Can't stop thinking for long enough." A hand combed through his hair, wandering all the way back to his neck where it stopped to press against it. "That and everything freaking hurts," he leaned forward to try and stretch things out.

Gladio shared the same exhale, "Ignis still has the medicine on him, when he gets back you can take something for it." His own chest pricked with that, the guilt still laboriously pressing down in him.

"Alright," his hand continued down his neck and went across to his left shoulder, fingers brushed lightly over the muscle, twitching back as they connected with chilled flesh... skin that wasn't his own. His heart skipped a bit, agonizingly thrumming against his ribs while his hand fluttered over himself, searching for whatever it was he had felt; but, they never located it again. He took in a trembling breath and removed his hand, eyes wide and glued to the floor at his feet. "I-I'll be right back," he stammered, shooting up and rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him in his haste and stopped in front of the mirror.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he lifted the edge of his collar to peek underneath it, desperately wanting to see what it was that was there, but of course there was still nothing; nothing but his own body. His form jolted with the knock at the door, "Everything alright?" It was Noctis, his words cutting through worriedly.

"Yup!" Prompto called back, the pitch giving him away. He placed both hands on the rim of the sink to lean over it and gather his nerves; at this point he couldn't tell the difference between what was really going on and what was his overreacting paranoia or his stressed imagination. His fingers squeezed the porcelain before he pushed himself away and eased the door back open. "Sorry, thought there was a spider in my shirt," he gave an awkward and sideways smile; the look of it not sitting right for him.

"Uh, ok then," the other responded, deciding it was in both of their best interest if he just went with the obvious and blatant lie. He was about to say something else, but the blond shoved right by him, not gracing him with any other words in his passing. Prompto stopped in front of his bag, hesitating for a moment when he noticed how everything in it was in disarray, and definitely not how he had left it, but he pushed that speck of confusion aside to look for what he needed. Within a few seconds he was pulling his camera out and already had it on. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he blurted out without thinking, then the question asked finally processed. "I need to... well, I haven't taken any pictures in a while and thought I should get some," is what he said, but the blandness behind his reasoning was transparent. "Just want to take a few." And with that, he was heading towards the door.

"H-hey," Noctis grabbed onto his wrist before he could get very far, "Where are you going?"

"I told you, out to take some photos, am I not allowed to do that now?" There was a tinge of bitterness in that, "Am I suddenly on house arrest?" He yanked his hand away to hold it against his chest protectively, his eyes boring into his friend in his offense.

Gladio tuned in at that moment. "Prom, it's not that we don't trust you, but after last night, I think it's best you don't go anywhere alone," he spoke calmly and quietly, but to the gunner it still came out as hostility and unfaithfulness.

"I'm not doing anything wrong, alright? And I'm coming right back."

"If that's the case, then you won't mind me tagging along," Noctis folded his arms stubbornly. "But you're not going out there by yourself. Either you let one of us join you, or you stay here. Your choice."

Prompto chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, his irritation bubbling up, but he somehow succeeded in swallowing it back down. "Fine, if that's how it's gonna be, then be my guest," his voice was tight with forced casualness. Without waiting for a confirmation, he headed back towards the door. "Be back soon," he directed at Gladio, "Probably within a few minutes."


"Where are we going exactly?" Noctis asked, glancing around anxiously when he noticed they had only been taking back streets, never once going down any of the main ones. Which, for someone who wanted to take some photos, this was an odd way to be taking them.

Prompto made a small noise as he turned another corner. "Somewhere away from others," he drawled out absentmindedly, not paying much attention to anything else other than where he was going. "I just wanna see something," he spoke softer, and Noctis wondered if he was even talking to him anymore. At times it even felt like he was almost forgotten.

The abrupt stop had caught the raven-haired off guard, and peering around his friend, he saw why; they were at a dead end. And, even though he knew the guy fairly well and trusted him with his life, he couldn't help but feel a bit unsettled by this choice of location, especially given that he wanted to be where others weren't. But, then he remembered he originally wanted to come alone, so whatever it was, it couldn't have been anything involving him, so that served some degree of relief.

Still, he stepped back and kept his distance while the other got his camera ready, but what really struck him as strange was the moment he aimed the lens at himself, the device held up over his head at a downward angle. As he opened his mouth to say something, the flash went off, followed by two more. As the last one was snapped, he stayed as he was for a few seconds, his body tense and shaking slightly, and it took Noctis a second to realize it was from fear. Which he probably wouldn't have known if it weren't for the vacant look in his eyes. Slowly, he lowered his camera and turned it over in his hand and gazed down at the screen for a while, finger hovering over the button as he struggled to will himself to press it.

This whole time, the king remained silent, watching and waiting to see what the hell he was going on about. As he stood there, he could feel the atmosphere shift, chill and density flowing in around them. "Prom?" He couldn't be quiet any longer, his curiosity was bearing down on him, begging him to investigate the situation.

His eyes never left the camera, but he nodded his head. "Alright," he breathed out, finally finding the courage to push his thumb down, switching the screen over to his taken photos. Utter silence from him, not even his pulse was blaring in his ears; breathing ceasing and gears jamming as he stared down at the image. "Noct," he choked out, hands becoming slack and his camera dangerously slipping from his grip. Said man barely got there in time to catch it before he could drop it.

"Prompto," he leaned down to stare him in the face. "Hey, what's wrong?" The gunner didn't answer, he couldn't, words and voice were forgotten in his shock and horror. But, enlarged eyes, drifted back to the camera in Noctis' hand and another strangled choke ripped from his throat as he attempted to say something. He felt light-headed as he gazed at the screen; he felt sick and disgusted. One of his now free hands floated back around his neck where it felt nothing but air.

Reluctantly, the other followed the distressed stare, slowly turning towards it as the reaction from the blond caused his own uneasiness to swell. Eventually, his own eyes landed on the picture and he felt his own bile start to rise with the sight of it. "W-what the fuck..." he whispered, his attention snapping back over to Prompto, looking past him, but also seeing nothing there. With that, he looked back, and shared the blond's terror induced stare, his focus settling on the second face in the image, resting itself gently on his shoulder; its own hands clung to that one as well as the other to hold itself up. Whatever the hell this thing was, it was literally clinging to his friend's back; hanging there and near snuggled against his own body.


Gladio scraped the last of the pancakes out of the pan and placed them on top of the uneven mess of a stack; it was more like a pile, really, of pancakes, but they looked fine enough at least. He placed the plate in the center of the table, glancing towards the door as he did so, his concern coming back when the others hadn't returned yet. More than a 'few minutes' had been passed. As he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone, the door slowly creaked open. "What the hell took you so lon-" he cut himself off at witnessing the two of them shuffle in, Noctis having one arm wrapped around the other as if he would collapse should he remove it. "Did something happen?" he asked, playful lecturing fleeting him.

He went to their side, becoming frightened himself at the paleness of the blond's face and the lack of acknowledgement he offered him. "I'll... fill you in later," Noctis said lowly, keeping his head lowered; the tone of it did nothing but make the shield feel even more uncertain and anxious.

"Alright," he stepped back to give them space, not pressing the subject further. "Well, uh, food's ready if anyone still wants any," he tried fruitlessly to lighten the mood, learning right there that he wasn't as skilled in that department as Prompto may have been, but what else could he have done? Not much, that he knew for sure, as much as it pained him, he was terrible with this sort of stuff, and now it was really showing.

"When will Ignis be back?" Noctis got right to the point, seriousness drenching his words. "He really needs to see this," he lifted the camera, but kept it at an angle where Gladio couldn't see what was on the screen. Still, he found himself looking towards it, eyes narrowing when it became obvious he wasn't meant to see what was on it just yet.

"How am I supposed to know, he didn't tell anyone," Gladio pulled one of the chairs out for Prompto, Noctis setting him in it and making sure he was situated before stepping back and waving Gladio over. Together, the two of them walked to the other part of their room, far enough to not be heard.

Glancing back to make sure the gunner's attention wasn't towards them, he handed the camera over to the man. "Here," he nodded down at it, making sure not to look at it again himself, knowing full well it wouldn't be any easier to take in a second time around. Instead, he focused on Gladio's reaction towards it, and as he thought, it wasn't much better than his own, but the difference was he immediately shut the device off and tossed it onto the bed, not wanting to even hold it anymore.

A hand went to slide down his face, stopping to rest over his mouth as he turned his head to the side. "And that... that thing," he had to stop to take a deep breath. "It's actually... there?" he shook his head softly, looking back down at Noctis, "Right now?" He got no response, but he very well knew the answer, and it did not sit comfortably with him in the slightest. "Son of a bitch," he reached for his phone again, and as quickly as he was able, sent Ignis a message, urging him to hurry the hell up. Hopefully he would understand the severity of the situation if Gladio was the one demanding he get back instantly.

To the brute's annoyance, he never got a reply back, and a few hours even passed, and still no sign of the adviser. If it were anyone else, he may have been worried, but this was Ignis, and when he was up to something he could be pretty unresponsive, he found out; even when it was clear he should get back. Gladio checked the time, and already it was past noon, more time having went by than he first thought. And, this entire time, Prompto had yet to utter a word; either he was still in shock at their most recent discovery, or he was too lost in his own mind, and he was willing to bet on the former. Hell, he was convinced he would have passed out if he were in that same position.

He cut his eyes to the table where the other two had been sitting this whole time; Noctis trying desperately to get the blond to at least participate in idle conversation, but all he could drag out of him was a few nods and shakes of his head. He did manage a few hums, but no actual coherent communication. It was unsettling, to say the least, outright disquieting if he were being honest about it. He nearly jolted to his feet when his phone went off, and glancing over it, released a relieved but equally agitated breath at seeing the strategist's name on it. "About damn time," he muttered, opening the message. His eyes squinted as he read over it and wasted no time in getting to his feet. "Noctis," he placed his hand on the younger's shoulder when he reached him, "I'm going out, not sure how long I'll be gone, but we have something we need to attend to." He held his phone up to signify he was talking about Ignis. Noctis gave him a quick 'alright' and focused back on the blond.

Before leaving, the shield sent the man a message back, informing him that he would be there shortly; and, with one last glance in the others' vicinity, headed out. There was no other alternative than to trust Prompto alone with Noctis, and he just prayed he didn't deviate back over to violence in his absence. As small as the kid was, he actually struggled a bit the previous night in restraining him. If things were really advancing like they seemed, then there was no possibility of the others succeeding in doing the same if they had to.

With that, the other two were left to themselves, the tv still droning in the background, only labored and short breaths emitting from Prompto as his eyes eventually strayed from an imperceptible spot on the wall and onto his closest friend. "What if we can't get rid of it?" his voice cracked out as he fought an itching sob that wanted out. "What if Luna can't do anything?" He took in a deep and shuttering breath, "What if...?" He bit his lip to prevent it from quivering.

Noctis cleared his throat, meeting dampened blues, "You heard Ignis, this is her kinda stuff, so just shut up and believe him." But he was right, there was no guarantee that she would know what to do, but it was their main hope, and doubting it would only scathe their optimism, what little of that they had left. They couldn't afford to second-guess her ability, not now, not when they had nothing else to depend on. "Look, why don't you focus on something else for now? Worrying about this isn't gonna make it go away."

"Well, it sure as hell isn't gonna make it worse," he snapped back, his face faltering instantly, "I-I didn't mean to snap like that." He lowered his head into his hands, "I'm sorry, I'm just... I don't know." His head moved slowly from side to side, "I just don't know right now." He was still exhausted, but he was terrified to try and sleep; the past few days it had brought nothing but traumatizing sightings and memories. "I'm just tired," it came out as a soft whine, hands rubbing small circles over his eyes. "And I have this damn thing literally latching onto me." His body tensed even more at saying it out loud for the first time, "And there's nothing I can do about it... how do you get rid of something you can't touch." It wasn't a question. "I just want this to be over," his head lowered down to the table, his cheek pressed firmly against it just like earlier.

"Maybe you should just go lie down, you don't necessarily have to go to sleep if you don't feel like it, but you need to relax a bit before you give yourself an aneurysm," he placed an arm around the other's shoulders and started guiding him upwards. "Come on, I'll be there with ya, so it's fine." After he said that, Prompto began following willingly, allowing himself to be ushered back to bed, and before he knew it, he was back under the covers, the weight of them helping to calm him just slightly. He climbed in after him, keeping to his word and situating himself on the mattress, if nothing else he could make sure he actually stayed there if he remained close by.

The moment he let his head rest against the pillow, his own weariness creep up on him, reminding him of how little sleep he'd actually gotten these past few nights; last night he hadn't even gotten three hours with everything that went on, so it was no wonder he felt as drained as he did. And, now that everything was calming down, it hit like a truck. It didn't take long for everything to be abandoned as his eyes demanded for rest and his body commanded the same. There was no fighting it anymore, he had to give in to the calling of slumber, it was a cruel mistress and refused to take 'no' for an answer.


He didn't know how long he was out, or what it was exactly that had woken him, but he was immediately struck by the lack of a weight next to him, and he sent a hand over to investigate, finding the spot completely empty; Prompto wasn't there anymore. The time was lost to him, but if the stiffness in his body was anything to go by, quite a bit of time had gone by; there was no light filtering through his lids, so clearly the sun had gone down at some point while he was out. He was about to get up, to see where the other had gone, but his ears had picked up on something before he had the chance, the sound pinning him to the spot as it was far from normal, and his mind couldn't quite place it.

That noise, so grating, so penetrating, scraping through the air and into his head. Like nails on a chalkboard, each drag resounding off the interior of his skull more painfully than the last. He didn't dare to move, no, more so found himself unable to pry himself off the bed, or even convince his eyes to open if only the slightest amount. His body wouldn't let him, and at this time, Noctis understood true petrification, understood what it meant to be trapped and bound down by one's own fear. But, why was he so afraid? There was nothing to truly be afraid of. 'Scratch.' Another injection of ice plunged through him. Mumbling, spoken so softly, yet completely uncontrolled followed the sound. That sounded so unlike the friend he had come to know, and somehow, he could still hear him in it.

'Scratch.' He felt nothing as more terror was pumped though his veins, he wanted to call out, wanted to scream, to help, to do anything. But he couldn't. There was no-one but the two of them, no others around to hear him if he were able to give in to his urge.

'Scratch.' He had to do something, lying there like a frightened child would accomplish nothing. A shuddering breath. A demand to himself to just open his eyes, but what if what he saw was that of a true nightmare? No. That shouldn't matter. He needed him, and he would be damned if he was going to revert into a frightened child and leave him there on his own.

'Scratch.' Dammit, why was this so hard? Why was everything so numb, so encased in solidified horror, slowly suffocating him.

'Scratch.' So undenyingly calling him for aid, begging for someone to take it all away.

'Scratch.' Finally his eyelids cooperated, cracking open, but nothing coming into view for them; only stark black greeting him with anticipation.

'Scratch.' He opened his mouth to speak, only succeeding in releasing a small and meaningless croak. Heart now grasped in chilled tendrils, weaving in and around, he held his breath before attempting again.

'Scratch.' "P-Prom?" Breathy and uncertain, his voice joined the fray of scrapes and mumbles, almost getting lost within them. The noise stopped. Although relief should have replaced his fear, it didn't. Only more dread and more apprehension. "Prom?" he asked again, mustering the will to speak louder. A strained and agonized fueled sob took the place of his response; it shattered the border between reality and delusion, and he prayed to himself, begged to himself that this was merely a bad dream. It had to be. Unseen weights painstakingly fled his body, giving Noctis permission to go to him.

He acted almost without purpose, limbs moving on their own as his instincts to just help took over. One foot on the floor, the other hesitating in its following, and another stifled wail brushing past him as he pulled his body upright. The process of walking over was slow, reluctant and cautious. The choking hold of utter and absolute panic teased its fingers across his throat and chest. "Prom, what are you doing?" his question pulled the other to a halt, the once rocking silhouette coming to a deathly stillness that sent a tremor through his spine.

"Lass mich raus," he spluttered out against another sob. "Lass mich raus, lass mich raus," he repeated, hand drifting back to the wall and falling back into its idle rhythm of clawing, clawing over and over without restraint. "Lass mich raus," he spoke louder, voice becoming clearer, taking on an edge that was so unlike him. Noctis took another step, footfalls drowned out by Prompto's desperate pleas. Foot in front of foot, each one being placed down reluctantly until he was within arm's reach.

"Hey," his heart raced, pounding against his ribs in an attempt to fruitlessly escape. It hurt, unimaginably so. "Prom, why don't you-" he paused to lick dry lips, a trembling exhale fluttering out, "Why don't you go back to bed, alright?" He didn't recognize his own voice, it sounded too reserved, too restrained and trifling. Silence followed, deafening quiet that only assisted in accentuating the ringing blaring in his ears. His hand was reaching before he could constrain himself, "Hello?" It was placed on the blond's shoulder.

Prompto didn't react to the contact, only sign being him allowing his own shaking hand fall onto his crossed legs. He took a deep breath, the tremors racked through him and up the prince's own arm. A drawn out and anguish-laden whine slipped out, his head careening forward to lean against the once pristine wall of their room. Even in the blackened night, the darkened stains stood out. "Come on, let's get you back," Noctis tried again, hand traveling down to his bicep and gently tugged.

Startled, he gasped, snatching his arm away as he dragged himself backwards, almost primal-like, pulling with his arms and kicking with his feet, only stopping once his back found the corner. His face was shoved against the wall, mouth agape in a silent cry, "Bitte, lass mich raus!" He pulled his knees under his chin, both arms now wrapped tightly around them protectively, "Ich will gehen, lass mich einfach gehen!"

Noctis still had his hand outstretched, hovering in shock and frozen in fear, breath hitching as he was once again at a loss of what to do.

"Lass mich raus!" He shouted this time, words echoing off the walls, seemingly taking on an imitation of itself. It was inhuman. This wasn't Prompto.


Hope everyone is still enjoying this. OwO Think it should be over halfway through by now.