This was a request from ameranthus13. Thanks so much for chatting with me about Promptis, and for showing your support for this story! I hope this lives up to your expectations!

Summary: **SPOILERS** Prompto reflects on the events of the horrific train ride, and wonders if he will ever make it out of the Keep alive.
(Angst, Fear, Established Relationship)

Prompto lifted his head, neck creaking through the stiffness. He couldn't say his sleep had made him feel well-rested; how could it when he was still strapped to this mechanism? Prompto looked around, taking in the sight of his arms that were pinned out to the sides of the metal contraption, then down to his ankles which he could barely see, but could tell were strapped in by leather bounds. Of all the ways Ardyn could have contained him, did he have to do it like this? Why not just throw him in a cage and leave him there? Why did he have to suspend him like this with his feet off the ground and arms taking most of his body weight, leaving his shoulders aching?

Prompto swallowed hard and gathered his strength. With what little might he had left, he pulled against the restraints, hoping that even one of them might break loose, but he had no such luck. A shaky sigh passed over his dry, cracked lips, and his head fell limply back down.

Thinking back to that day on the train, he had no idea what had gone so wrong. One minute he and Noct had been staring out the window together, the next, Noctis was launching his fist at his face. It had been so strange. Prompto had merely wandered over to get a better look at the snow cloud, and after that, Noctis was staring at him as if he hadn't remembered his friend was there in the first place—only stare was an understatement. The way Noct had looked at him in that moment... Prompto had never felt anything like it before. It was a cold-hearted, loathing glare, and Prompto's mind had frantically searched for reasons why it could just be a joke.

"The hell are you doing here?" Noct demanded, his fist thankfully missing Prompto's nose as he spun out of the way to stand behind the prince.

"Whoa! What's going on?" Prompto asked, hoping that he had missed something, that Noct had a reason for what he was doing and meant him no real harm. As Noct spun around, expression still tight and angry, Prompto feared that wasn't the case. He stumbled back a few steps.

"Easy there, buddy. Didn't see that coming." His words barely made it out of his mouth before Noct began his next attack, this one much worse.

"Shut up!" Noctis viciously hollered. Prompto's eyes widened. His heart felt like it jumped into his throat as the sparkling, blue glow of Noct's blade appeared, and the weapon was swiped in his direction. Again, Prompto dodged it just in time; if he hadn't been so nimble in his manoeuvres, he wouldn't have.

"Be careful there!" Prompto panted, glancing at the passengers beside him and making sure they were okay. Other than giving him some frightened expressions, they seemed fine. His gaze travelled quickly back to his best friend, whose eyes were glowing with rage. Prompto's stomach churned; his gut was telling him to run. And so, he did. He took off through the door behind him, heart thudding so hard he couldn't hear anything else.

"Wait—is this for real?" he asked, but he wasn't about to stick around for an answer.

He wasn't sure how many train cars he had charged through. He only remembered making it to the resting area and bumbling out some panicked noises as he tried not to trip over his own feet. For a minute, he thought he was safe, for between the beats of his rampaging pulse, he heard Noctis' footsteps cease their pursuit. He turned around, seeing Noct whip open one of the doors to the cabins.

"Show yourself!" Noctis screamed. Prompto let out a shaking breath and told himself this was all a misunderstanding. It couldn't be him that Noct was after. It didn't make sense. They were best friends. They had been for five years. Foundations like that didn't inexplicably crumble like this.

Uh... Noct?" he asked, as calmly as he could, coming to stand behind Noctis' back. Noctis yanked his gaze away from the empty cabin to swing an arm at him again. Prompto didn't need any further confirmation that he needed to keep running, and he was pretty sure he'd made it through the next door before Noctis could even recover from his swing.

He raced through another train-car or two, then stopped to look back, but when Noctis caught up to him again, his expression was more vicious than ever. Prompto stared at Noctis— his Noctis—as footsteps rushed towards him.

"C'mon, Noct. You're scaring me!" This time, Prompto was startled by the sound of his own voice. It was so weak, so scared and desperate. It was the first time he realized how close to tears he was. This was no game. Somehow, the Noctis who had spent so many afternoons in the arcade with him and helped him survive his high school years had turned against him, and the first thing Prompto thought was that he must have done something to make Noct feel this way.

Noctis was closing in on him now, with no signs of letting up, so Prompto spun on his heel and scampered through the door behind him.

"Seriously, man, cut it out!" he yelled, hoping it might get the prince to back off, even if it was just for a minute—just long enough so that he could explain what was making him so angry.

"It's not safe. Plus, you're causing a scene." His words were merely another attempt to get Noctis to quit his pursuit. The train passengers were looking even more terrified now as Prompto hurried past them, probably since Noctis looked like he was out for blood.

"Quit playing around, okay?"

"You think this is funny?" Noctis screamed. His blade appeared again, and Prompto fell backwards onto the cold floor. Falling was the only thing that saved him from what could have been a fatal blow. Prompto looked up briefly into icy blue eyes and wondered where Noctis' heart had gone. Why couldn't Noct see the terror in his eyes? The Noct he knew would have done anything he could to take that fear away; then again, his Noctis never would have put it there in the first place.

But this was his Noctis. This was his best friend that was leering at him, looking ready to strike again, but Prompto scrambled to his feet and took off before he could. His legs were feeling like jelly now, each step seeming to make them even more numb. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up.

"Dude, are you seriously trying to kill me?" Prompto asked, but it came out as more of a whimper than anything. He was out of breath, exhausted, and broken. Noct meant everything to him. How could this be happening?

"Why wouldn't I? I've got you now!" Noctis shouted, his voice a raspy growl. Prompto could hardly recall the soft, velvety timbre of his usual voice, his gentle laugh and tender smile.

"What're you after, following me around this whole time? It's all YOUR fault..." Noctis yelled. Prompto backed up slowly, arms waving in surrender. He was sure he looked like some sort of frightened animal, with his trembling body and wide eyes. He was cornered now, thanks to the closed door behind him. They were trapped in one of the tiny connecting cars. There was nowhere left to run, and Noctis wasted no time in making sure Prompto knew that.

Prompto's air was cut off as Noctis' elbow connected with his throat, pinning him against the door. He struggled to raise his head up; it gave him enough room to talk.

"What are you talking about?" he practically cried. "Do you really mean that, Noct?"

"Of course I do!" Noctis screamed, making Prompto's voice sound like a whisper in comparison. Prompto's heart plummeted when he realized what was going on. The only thing that could make Noct act this way was if he had discovered...

Prompto clenched his fist. The codeprint on his wrist seemed to burn with his sheer loathing for it. That cursed mark set him apart from everyone else—from society, from his friends, from Noct. He was an enemy of Lucis; there was no arguing his origin. If Noctis had found out that he was designed to be an MT, that he could have easily been one of those lifeless machines that they had fought along the way, then maybe Noct did have reason to hate him, and keeping it a secret all this time had probably only made things ten times worse.

Prompto continued to struggle against him, trying to create more space between his neck and Noctis' arm so that he could breathe properly.

"You can't talk your way out of this," Noct threatened.

"You won't even let me!" Prompto whimpered. He would come clean if he had to, but it didn't seem like Noct was having any of it, with the way his elbow was trying to dig its way further against his neck. "Noct, please. Can't we talk for a sec?" came the next pathetic-sounding plea. Prompto's hands were on Noct's arm, trying so hard to pry him away, but his strength was nothing compared to that of the enraged prince.

"Never," Noct scowled. He was cut off when the train rattled over some sort of bump. The two of them fell apart with the force of the impact, Noct hitting the floor, and Prompto being flung against the side door. At that point, it was lights-out for both of them.

Prompto shook his head to rid himself of the memory. No matter how many times he replayed it in his head, it never became any clearer, nor did it help to comfort him. If anything, it only made him feel more defeated. Every time he glanced up through the bars of his cell, he lost another smidgen of hope. The hallways were clear and quiet. It was quite possible that no one was coming to rescue him.

The boy jumped as the sound of a metal gate slid open, and he looked up as he had many times before. Unfortunately, it wasn't anyone he was longing to see—not Ignis or Gladio, and certainly not Noct. No, it was Ardyn, wearing that smug look of his as he proceeded through the hallway of cells. The echoing click of his shoes stopped as he paused to unlock the door to Prompto's chamber, then it continued as he entered the room. Prompto let his head fall. He didn't want to see this man ever again.

"And how is my favourite guest?" Ardyn asked, his words flowing like water. Even his kind tone didn't earn a response, as Prompto had known this guy long enough to know every word he said had a backbone of sarcasm and condescension. "Care for some company?"

Ardyn saw the flicker of Prompto's eyes, the way they travelled up, then quickly back down, letting him know he was, at the very least, conscious. Ardyn smirked, allowing Prompto to ignore him for now as he pulled up a wooden chair. Leisurely, he raised his feet up to rest on the nearby table, legs crossing in a relaxed position and an arm draping around the back of the chair.

"Why don't you tell me a story, Prompto?" came his sing-song voice. "Fill the silence."

"I don't know what you want to hear," Prompto replied, voice low and dull. His limbs were so heavy, he was beginning to feel like a zombie, and after several days in this hellhole, he was pretty sure he was starting to look like one, too. He was defeated, exhausted, hungry and parched, and the last thing he wanted was to play Ardyn's mind games.

"Oh, yes, you do. Why don't you remind me of what happened on top of the train with Noct?" the evil man smiled.

"I already told you," Prompto sighed, head still drooping lifelessly.

"It seems a few details have slipped my mind. Surely, you won't mind recounting them to me?"

Prompto hesitated, his eyes flickering upward again to take in the sight of his captor. Sure, Ardyn looked harmless right now, the way he was sitting there so reposed, but if Prompto were to displease him in any way, it would only add to the list of scars Prompto would be taking home—assuming he ever got out of here.

"You and I were on top of the train first. Noctis warped there afterwards," Prompto started, his voice as drained as his body.

"Right," Ardyn agreed, reclining his head back against his chair. He raised a hand to his hat, and casually placed it on the table, listening intently.

"I had my gun pointed at you. You had your hands up... in what I assume was mock surrender."

"That does sound like me," Ardyn chuckled. "Then what happened?"

"Noct warped down to the train with us."

"And?"

Prompto bit his lip. He always had trouble getting this part past his lips. His throat always seemed to close over so tightly, he couldn't get the words out—probably because he was always fighting against his emotions when he tried.

"And? What happened next?" Ardyn coaxed again when Prompto remained quiet. Prompto swallowed hard, and pressed on.

"Noct swung his sword at me. Knocked my gun out of my hand. Then he pushed me off the train." He was trembling as the words made it out of his mouth. He could remember it so clearly—the feeling of hope as Noct called his name in a panic, and the way it had been torn away when he realized Noct wasn't there to help him.

He could remember watching his weapon go skidding across the top of the train, Noct's hands on his chest, and the painful turn of his stomach as he lost his balance. He could remember yelling as he fell backwards off of the moving train, but he couldn't remember hitting the ground. He was a bit thankful he had passed out before the impact of the landing.

"Oh, that's right. How could I forget," Ardyn mused, scratching his stubbly chin. "My, Noct must really hate you."

Prompto blinked back tears. Why did Ardyn sound so damn satisfied about that? He actually sounded like he was gloating, but Prompto would never give him the satisfaction of seeing him cry. The boy cleared his throat, pushing away the remains of his emotions before they needed to mop up tears from the cement floor below.

"Probably not as much as he hates you," Prompto said, pushing forth a soft chuckle.

"My dear Prompto," Ardyn gasped, placing a hand over his heart. "Your words hurt, you know?" He smirked at the end of his sentence, and reached for his hat. He pressed it snugly onto his head and got to his feet, strolling toward the captive.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," he sneered, reaching for Prompto's chin. The boy turned his head, trying to avoid Ardyn's slimy grasp, but failed. He shivered as Ardyn lifted his head and possessively stroked his thumb over his skin.

"I swapped our positions on the train."

"What?" Prompto croaked, brows twitching weakly.

"Noct thought he was attacking me when really he was taking his anger out on you," Ardyn smiled, looking so proud and amused.

"You what? How?!" Confusion and fury began to swirl in Prompto's eyes, eyes that had been nearly void of emotion mere minutes ago.

"Oh, I'm afraid I have skills you couldn't even dream of comprehending."

"You bastard," Prompto growled, tugging fruitlessly against his restraints. Ardyn only tightened his grip on Prompto's chin, making Prompto retaliate by spitting in his face. Anger flashed in Ardyn's eyes, and Prompto was suddenly fearful that he had gone too far. He was right.

He bit back a cry as an icy palm slapped him hard in the face. Tears stung Prompto's eyes, and he figured both the physical and emotional impact of the attack were to blame. He opened and closed his mouth a few times to assess the damage; there was a sharp pain in his jaw, and he was almost certain that there would be a bruise by tomorrow, if it wasn't already forming.

"Ah-ah. Manners," Ardyn calmly reminded him, wiping the saliva from his face with an oversized sleeve. "If only you'd been a good boy. I was going to let you have something to drink, too," the captor went on, exaggerating a sigh. Prompto looked up, spying an MT outside his cell, which Ardyn must have summoned at some point without him noticing. It stood perfectly still with a water satchel in its metal hands. Prompto swallowed, nearly choking on his dry throat.

"Please," he begged, pulling on his restraints again, but his voice had dwindled down to almost nothing. "Ardyn, please. Just let me have a sip of water."

"But, my dear Prompto, how will you learn to behave if I don't teach you?" Ardyn sang, leaning his head close to Prompto's. His brows were twisted up in sorrow, his mouth almost pouting, but Prompto knew that every ounce of sympathy in his expression was utterly and completely false.

"Perhaps tomorrow." With that, Ardyn gave Prompto a smirk and a wave, and proceeded out of the cell, ignoring the desperate pleas for him to reconsider. The click of his soles echoed through the hallway until the outer metal gate slid shut; once its echo faded, Prompto was left with nothing but silence and the sporadic sounds of his own soft sobs.

"Noct..." he whispered, watching his tears fall and speckle the floor with wet dots. "Where are you now? Are you coming for me?"

Noctis woke up with the same nauseating feeling in his stomach that he'd had for days now. He stared up at the ceiling of the train and promised himself he wouldn't be sick this morning; the last couple, he couldn't even keep breakfast down. He'd pushed Prompto off of a moving train; the thought made him constantly want to throw up.

He couldn't stop thinking about the things he'd said to Prompto, words filled with hatred and loathing, words that were never in a million years meant for him. He couldn't stop thinking about the fall, whether Prompto had been hurt from the impact, or worse. He could be lying where they left him, with too many broken bones to ever recover. Or he could already be... No, Noct wouldn't let his thoughts wander there.

Ignis didn't think Prompto would still be near the train at all. 'Given the chancellor's involvement, it's probable he's no longer where we left him,' he had said, but that scenario hadn't put Noct's mind at any more ease. Ardyn knew how important Prompto was to Noct, so there was no telling what he might do to him in order to manipulate Noct one way or another. Ardyn had Lucis' heir in the palm of his hand, had full control of him just by having Prompto in his possession. There was nothing Noctis wouldn't do for the price of seeing Prompto safe again.

"You up?" came a voice from the doorway. Noctis glanced down from his bunk to see Gladio standing there, leaning against the frame. He rubbed an eye irritably.

"'Course, I'm up," he muttered. "You think I'm getting a decent sleep these days?"

"Hmph. No need to get mouthy," Gladio grumbled. The prince felt his blood boil, but he tried to keep his temper under control. He'd done enough arguing with Gladio over the past few days to tide them over for the next several years. If I am, I have a right to be, Noct sighed to himself, rather than saying it aloud. One of the last times he had seen Prompto, he'd been trying to stop his and Gladio's feuding; Noct felt obligated to control himself for his sake.

"How close are we?" the prince asked, pushing himself to sit up. His damp t-shirt clung to his back, the result of night terrors and restlessness.

"Getting there, though the weather's givin' us some trouble. Snow's slowing us down for sure," Gladio admitted, looking disappointed himself. He stood with his huge arms folded, looking as tough as ever, but his eyes looked tired, and Noct wondered if he had been losing sleep since the 'Ardyn incident', too.

Noct could still remember Ignis' words that day: 'I'm as concerned for Prompto as you are.'

'I seriously doubt that,' was Noct's internal response. Even now, he knew the guys didn't care for Prompto to the extent he did, but they'd always had his back—through this journey together, and before they'd even left home. He'd been important to Noct, so he'd been important to the Crownsguard.

"I want to find him. And soon," Noct added, staring down at the ring in his palm which had hardly left that spot since he'd obtained it. He would use it if he had to, and drain Ardyn's very soul with it, regardless of how painful it was to the wearer.

"And we will," Gladio promised. "Now, get dressed. Biggs n' Wedge could use our help."

"Right," the prince nodded, and Gladio took his leave.

Noct curled his fingers around the ring, clutching tightly. Dad, Insomnia, Luna... I am not adding you to the list of things I've lost, he silently vowed. With a deep breath, he turned his head toward the window to stare at the snowy landscape outside. Hang in there, Prompto. I'm on my way.