9.
It's been raining for days.
There's a traffic advisory out to avoid the roads in Leide due to flooding. The only work right now is the occasional call to rescue a motorist who chose to ignore the warning and wound up stranded.
Cindy doesn't mind the lack of work so much. She's never taken a real break before, never tried to sleep in, but it's nice, not having anywhere to be.
They lay together, tangled up in the sheets, listening to the rain on the roof. Every now and then, thunder rattles the windows. Cindy's never liked thunderstorms much. Lightning from a distance is beautiful, but storms remind her the bigger things in life are beyond her control.
"I'm gonna run over to the diner for some breakfast," Prompto says. "You want something?"
"Just coffee," she mumbles and settles back into her own pillow.
He leaves her with a kiss and the sound of the rain against the window lulls her back to sleep. When she wakes again, it's to the tell-tale click of Prompto's camera shutter and the scent of fresh coffee.
She opens an eye and looks at him from her nest of sheets. He sits cross-legged on the end of the bed, his face hidden by the camera. He adjusts the lens and snaps another.
"Nobody wants pictures of my mornin' face."
"Your morning face is the best," he says.
Cindy throws his pillow at him. He dodges with a laugh and tugs the sheet down a little lower, exposing her shoulder and a hint of breast.
"Noooo," she whines. "Too early for all that. What are you gonna do with those, anyway?"
"Sell 'em to the magazines," he says with a hint of a smile. "I'll make you famous, baby."
Cindy laughs at his posh accent and stretches like a cat, aware of the soft clicks from the camera as she does so.
"Put that down and get over here," she says.
"Nope," he says. "Gotta immortalize this moment."
"What moment?"
"The one and only time the amazing Cindy Aurum slept past sunrise," he teases. "It's one for the history books, folks."
"Fine," she says and settles back down. "Snap away, Mr. Photog, but you better not show those to no one, ya hear?"
His smile is broad and toothy. It takes ten years off his face and Cindy is reminded of that sweet, energetic boy that walked onto her lot in the company of royalty so many years ago. He's changed so much, but it warms her heart to see that boy still exists.
"The guys at the hunter's camp are gonna be so excited."
Cindy shoots him a look, though she knows he's not serious.
Prompto's smile falls away and he lowers the camera.
"These are just for me," he says. "Promise."
"They better be," Cindy mumbles and turns on her side to really look at him.
He's almost thirty-five and still has a baby face and freckles, but that faint scar across the bridge of his nose, the slight lump on the right side where he got it broken when he was twenty hints at a less charmed past than his boyish appearance might suggest.
There are other scars that don't show, inside and out from days of hunting, burns and cuts and abrasions, and Cindy has seen them all. They only make him more beautiful in her eyes.
She thinks about what Cid said before he died. She isn't lonely with Prompto here and she can't picture her life without him in it.
Prompto snaps another photo and Cindy knows she won't find a better more devoted, patient, talented, or kind man anywhere in the world.
Maybe, Cid's right. Maybe, the next step is a no-brainer.
He tugs the sheet down further and Cindy's exposed from the waist up, but she doesn't mind. She trusts that no one will ever see these photos except Prompto, and that they will be arty and beautiful, even if she is old.
"Say fuzzy pickles," he says and Cindy laughs.
"I ain't sayin' that," she says. "Sounds filthy."
Prompto's smile is all she can see of his face. She loves him, so why not?
"So, when are you plannin' on makin' an honest woman of me, Prompto?"
His lips part and he slowly lowers the camera to stare at her in that awed way of his. He blinks a few times and his jaw trembles but he doesn't say a word.
"Don't go havin' a stroke on me, now," she says. "Just a thought I been havin' lately."
"You... you really want to?" he asks.
"Don't see why not," she says. "Unless you plan on leavin' me. Figure we been shackin' up long enough. Might as well make it official."
He shakes his head, smiles, wipes his eyes, and sets the camera on the nightstand.
"So is that a yes?"
"Yeah," he says, his voice gone hoarse and an octave lower. "Yeah. I'll marry you."
Prompto forgets all about his promise to help Cor with the hunt until he shows up at the Hammerhead in a rusty, beat up truck that backfires as he pulls into the lot.
"Bet you miss the Lucian fleet, huh?" Prompto says.
Cor pats the battered hood. "She has her charms, but I do miss those leather seats."
Prompto chuckles. "And the turbo booster."
"That too," Cor says. "Working air con was also nice. Wouldn't be so bad if I could put the top down."
"Yikes," Prompto says. "Sorry, dude. Want Cindy to take a look at it?"
"Perhaps another day," Cor says. "Still interested in that hunt I mentioned?"
"Sure," Prompto says, but he wonders what kind of hunt Cor can't handle on his own. "What's the mark?"
"That's best left for later," Cor says. "Once my associate arrives, we'll discuss the details."
"Must be big if you need this much help," Prompto says.
Cor nods, and his gaze fixes on the table and chairs next to the garage door. Cid's jacket hangs from the chair on the right, his favorite wrench on the table next to it. Cor inhales, exhales, and hangs his head. It hasn't been so long since Cid passed that they don't all still feel it.
"I'm going to grab a bite to eat," Cor says. "I'll let you know when she arrives."
"Take your time. I'll be in the garage."
Cindy's on the phone, her long legs clad in jeans. She is self-conscious of the difference in their ages, sometimes says she's too old for him, and is convinced every new wrinkle will send him off in search of someone on the better side of youth.
All he sees is a strong, smart woman he loves beyond reason. If she's aging, he doesn't notice and doesn't care. Her looks are only part of the attraction.
He kisses her temple and slides a hand over her hip. She pushes his hand away, but gives him a smile that promises more later.
"I understand," she says into the phone. "We'll figure somethin' out."
Prompto returns to his worktable, where the pieces of an old transponder are spread out. He sits and tries to make sense of the dated technology. It should be simple, but he's perplexed by the mass of wires and ancient circuit board.
Cindy sits on the stool beside him and watches as he solders the end of a wire to a contact on the board.
"My cousin's sick," she says. "Real sick. Maybe the dyin' kind of sick."
Prompto looks up and sets aside the soldering gun. "Cousin?"
"We ain't close, barely related, like third or fourth cousin or somethin'," Cindy says. "We only met once, back when I was a kid, but she's got two little ones and her husband got the scourge back durin' the ruin. She ain't got no other family but me."
"What's she gonna do?" Prompto asks. "You gonna go see her?"
Cindy nods and picks up a dry-rotted plastic frequency knob. She turns it over and frowns at the cracks, then sets it back on the table.
"I can't let those little girls be on their own," she says. "It ain't right. We're family, after all."
Prompto lays a hand to her knee and squeezes.
"You gonna be okay if we gotta take them in?" she asks.
"Of course," he says. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You sure?"
Prompto takes both of her hands in his and holds on. Half a generation of children have been lost to war and scourge. The ones left are precious.
"We'll need a bigger place," he says. "They can't all sleep on the couch."
"S'pose we could put 'em up at the camper," she says. "Maybe... let 'em use Cid's place."
Neither set foot in Cid's private spaces since before the funeral. Cindy couldn't bear it, and it wasn't Prompto's place to investigate. Better to use it than turn it into a shrine, but Prompto has a better idea.
He tugs her to her feet and leads her away from the table to the open garage door and points to the hallowed hill above.
"We'll build a house," he says and takes the Hammerhead cap off her head and puts it on his own. "Right there, with a big window so you can always take in the view."
"You remember."
"Yep," he says. "I remember."
Her arms slip around his waist and she leans her head against his shoulder. He lays a hand against her hair and breathes in her familiar scent as the thought of family, however makeshift, spawns ten-thousand butterflies in his belly.
"That sounds real nice," she says. "Maybe with a big ole porch we can sit on and look at the stars."
"Let's do it, Cin," he says. "Bet Dave knows some guys lookin' for work."
"I'll give Holly a call, too," Cindy says as she pulls away. "See if she don't know nobody who knows somethin' about buildin' houses."
He settles her cap back on her head. Blonde curls stick out from the sides beneath it and frame her face in gold.
"It ain't gonna be easy, you know," she says. "Those girls are gonna be heartbroken if their mama dies."
Prompto brushes his thumb over her chin and steals a peck on the lips.
"I know," he says. "Guess that means we'll just have to love them harder, huh?"
Cindy's eyes search his face for a minute. "You're a good man, Prompto."
He mimes retching and Cindy slaps his arm.
"If I gotta say it a thousand times for you to know it, then I'm gonna," she says.
"I just try to do what's right," he says. "That's all."
His hands settle on her waist and he's over the moon that she wants a future with him. It's so overwhelming, he can't resist stealing another kiss.
As he pulls back, a familiar figure catches his eye. How long she's been watching, he's not sure, but her presence leaves him at a loss for words. The last time he saw her was before then end of the darkness, in Lestallum.
"Long time, no see Blondie."
"Aranea?"
"The one and only," she says. "You look good."
He knows he doesn't. His hair is flat and a little unkempt, his shirt has holes along the seams, and his hands are coated in dust from the transponder. He feels like an eight year old under her scrutiny, a kid caught rolling in mud puddles by his mother.
"You look incredible," he says and he means it. She's ten years older than he is, but could pass for thirty-five. "How have you been? Where have you been?"
"I'd ask the same of you," she says and flicks her eyes at Cindy, "but I already have my answer. It's good to see you again, Cindy."
"Likewise," Cindy says. "It's been what, six years?"
"Seven," Aranea says. "So sorry to hear about Cid. He was a cantankerous old fart, but I always appreciated his sass."
Cindy smiles. "That he was. So, what can we do you for?"
"Cor asked me to meet him," she says and tips her head at Prompto. "I hear the three of us are going on a hunt."
"Yeah, he failed to mention you were his associate," Prompto says.
"Is that going to be a problem?"
"Nah," he says with a smile. "Been way too long since we busted stuff up together."
"I'm actually looking forward to that."
Being in the presence of two of his boyhood crushes at the same time is strange. Back then, he never really believed he had a shot with either. While he still finds Aranea attractive enough to make him nervous, there is only one of them he wants and only one who wants him in return.
"Cor's at the diner," Prompto says.
"Shall we, then?"
Prompto turns to Cindy. "Be back in a bit."
"Take your time," she says. "Got plenty of work waitin' on me."
He leaves her with a gentle kiss and a smile and follows Aranea across the lot.
"Cindy Aurum, huh?" she says. "That's an awful lot of woman, Shortcake. Sure you can handle it?"
Prompto smirks. "She wants me to marry her, so I'd say it's all good."
"Aren't you the smug one," Aranea says. "Maybe I underestimated you."
"You had your chance," he teases. "Too late now. I'm taken."
"I'm crushed."
Prompto laughs and ushers her inside the diner. Cor sits at the last table on the right, his hands curled around a cup of coffee. He greets them with a nod and waves his hands at the empty booth across from him.
"So, what's this about?" Prompto asks. "The three of us seems like overkill."
"There have been reports of Magitek Troopers near Costlemark Tower," Cor says. "There may be a lot of them, if our source is to be believed."
"So what? They're pushovers," Prompto says.
"They're sentient," Aranea says.
"What do you mean, sentient?"
They both stare at him and wait for it to sink in.
When it does, Prompto feels like he's been kicked in the guts.
Not just robots implanted into the bodies of throwaway mass-produced soldiers, but living beings with minds and thoughts of their own. At least partially human, as human as a clone can be.
He looks from one to the other. Neither face provides the answer he's looking for.
"How did they get there?" Prompto asks. "It's been a long time since the Nifs made any. Shouldn't they all be, you know, dead?"
"Best guess, these are the ones left behind after the war," Cor says. "The Empire abandoned them once the darkness fell, most were left under Ardyn's command. Some went rogue. Perhaps the ones that didn't overload and self destruct became self-aware."
Prompto can't imagine that. Without maintenance, how could they have survived?
"So, what do you want from me?"
"If they're a threat, we need your help to eliminate it."
"And if they're not?"
"Might be best to take care of it anyway," Aranea says. "It's not like they'll ever be functioning, productive members of society. I'm surprised they've survived this long, considering the only thing they were ever taught was how to swing an ax or point a gun and shoot."
Prompto nods his head, not in agreement, but out of habit. If the MT's have minds and feelings, it won't be so easy for him to pull the trigger. Life isn't something he can take and throw away without remorse. Especially when he sees the MT's in a different light than the rest.
He is fortunate. He is what any of the MT's could have become. One twist of fate and he could be in their shoes. Aranea and Cor know that better than anyone.
So why ask him along?
"Okay," he says. "I'll go."
"Good," Cor says. "It's settled. We leave in the morning."
Notes: Not sure if I'll continue updating here or not. Reader traffic is really, really low compared to Ao3. That might be because I update there first, or it might just be because the audience here is different, and that's fine. But I'm not sure if I should save myself the trouble of publishing on both sites and update exclusively on Ao3 from now on, or if I should continue here for the sake of having a back-up/cross-post in case something happens. I'll play it by ear, I guess.
Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks to those that are reading, and most especially to the readers that have left feedback so far. Might not always get the time to respond, but I appreciate every review I've gotten so far. :)
If anyone is interested, I've started another story called "Dogs And Angels." There are 3 chapters up here, and I'll be updating it on ao3 on Thurs or Fri every week. Username on ao3 is MythHighwind.
Thanks again for reading!
