This chapter turned out into a lot of hurt/comfort, like expected. No answers about Crowe's new powers yet, it will have to wait for 55. Such a pretty number. I've rarely written as much on a single fic. But I've yet to top my longest story regarding the words count. This chapter includes SilverGold, Crowdio, bro times and not enough NoctLuna to my liking, but still some of it. As for my personal life, I've made progress with school, but I'm not yet out of the woods. Still working intensely, which means next update might also take some time. I hope you have fun reading!
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Unexpected
Chapter 54 – Forgive but never forget
Cindy was still trying to come to terms with everything she'd seen in a single day. During the whole ride, she'd held on to Prompto's hand, accepting his silence and enduring the thousand questions turning in her head. They were all exhausted and worn out by the extreme experiences they'd been through. But from the regular gazes thrown in her and Prompto's direction, she could tell who was everyone's main concern. He'd been tested in the worst way possible. The look on his face when Luna admitted on facing a few Ottos and Cor's confirmation of seeing them too. He was devastated.
As they found themselves alone together, Cindy was expecting all sorts of reactions, but all he gave her was silence. They'd both received a change of clothes from Monica and the mechanic grabbed a quick shower, settling in a comfortable shirt and snug shorts. Prompto washed up and switched his battered uniform for his usual leather and jeans. She couldn't help but notice the missing wristband. It wasn't like there was a point in wearing it anymore.
He was hunched over his phone, sitting directly on the floor, a few sheets of paper with doodles and scribbling on them; a set of printed pictures spread out in front of him. He wasn't quite responsive when she asked him what he was up to, so Cindy stepped around the living room, watching from over his shoulders at his handy work. He was scrolling through his endless collection of pictures, deleting some of them in a meticulous fashion. Every selfie and most of the pictures he was in were erased, one by one.
"What are ya…?!"
He ignored her, refusing to look away from his task. Every smiling, goofy face he'd made had to disappear. Otherwise, the kids and men who could have replaced him might always haunt him. Cindy kneeled by his side, reaching for his phone, refusing to see him belittling his work and keep up the massacre. She knew what the pictures meant to him. He'd even shared the first one ever taken of himself, back when he started his training. Those snapshots weren't a mean to judge himself anymore, but a way to retain his memories, unlike the ones he lost or repressed.
"I don't need these…" He started explaining.
"And you don't have to delete it all either!"
For once, Prompto seemed ready to fight with her, backing away and resisting as she pursued and made him fall on his back. Soon they were sprawled on the floor, pictures and doodles scattered around.
"I can't stand that face anymore!" he pleaded as they tossed and tumbled around, one arm holding his phone out of her reach as he secured his other arm around her waist.
"How can ya say that?" Cindy protested.
"How can I not say… You saw them, didn't you?"
"Only one. Half of his face was burned, I could tell it wasn't… But then I saw ya falling down, taking a bullet to the chest and suddenly it wasn't ya anymore." A hacked sob pulled through as she tried to apologize. "I don't wanna be confused about this, Prom."
Her honesty got to him and he dropped the phone, unsure if he could hold her afloat when he was so close to drowning himself.
"Cindy… I don't know how to even begin… I know some of them might have shown up, but I'd never thought they would all have been... Hell, we were only the first batch!"
Her gasp pained him, although his soul was already overloaded with pain. He sat up gingerly, the mechanic cozying in his lap, hands sneaking up his arms.
"Don't talk of yarself like that, city boy," Cindy cautioned him.
The nickname mended some of the hurt, but he uttered a sad, broken chuckle.
"He needed an endless source of soldiers. How else should I call it? We were cloned, raised like cattle and forced to fight each other. Then my mom smuggled me out, as though I was any different…"
"Prompto! Ya're different. It's ya I love, not any of 'em."
"But what if she'd grabbed Otto-1 instead? Or Otto-8? Why the zero-man?"
"Prom!"
"Look at it!" he hurled at her, waving his wrist in her face.
If Cindy hadn't been as shaken, she'd slap him for even acting like that. Instead, she grabbed the wrist and let her fingers explore the tattooed barcode on his skin. She followed the lines, detailing how some were larger, and read the numbers out loud, one by one, from left to right and then backward. Eleven numbers engraved on his skin, ending with a zero, mirrored on fifteen other wrists, and surely a hundred more. The calmness with which she studied it was like a punch in the gut for Prompto. The apologies that came to him got stuck in his throat when she looked up into his eyes.
"Why does it matter? I have all those pesky moles and that weird scar…"
Everything harsh in his face fell and his shoulders dropped with a mix of relief and the sad, unsure look she might never wipe off his face.
"I want to stop doubting myself so much. But I'm so afraid when I think of what he'd done if their tricks had worked."
Of what could have happened to you, he thought.
She shivered, but quickly shook her head.
"I'll have none o' that mister. I'm already scared enough as it is."
Her hands left no place to second guess what she had in mind to erase their present fears. Prompto felt quite vulnerable, but he welcomed the attention, since it meant she hadn't been scared enough to doubt him. If anything, he felt a violent surge of possessiveness at the idea she was one of the rare things neither of his "brethren" had in their life. She was his girlfriend and no one else's. He complied to her caresses with a needy groan as she tugged on his shirt, knowing the scars set him apart instead of drawing him back to the empire. He was safe under her eyes. He pulled her closer, lips colliding in a rush of emotion.
"None of them hurt you?" he asked her in between kisses.
"Nu-huh. The shoulder was all me, when we fell off the bird."
His hands tensed on her hips and she tried to relax him with a mention to his favorite birds.
"I'll stick to chocobos when I'm not driving."
Not blind on her attempt, Prompto tried to tease her some in return.
"Remind me not to embark if you're piloting a ship, though. I saw how that turned out."
"But in the long run, the diversion helped ya, ain't it?"
His hands were under her shirt, grasping and kneading her curves, sending shivers down her spine. They both felt too sore for this, but the electricity in their veins and the rush was so much better than all the panic stored in the last few hours.
They were briefly interrupted by Ignis and Aranea delivering their food, and agreed to eat while their meal was still warm, before to take back where they left out. Their main goal was to run away from all the bad stuff. It resumed on the living room's floor and veered to the futon, where all unnecessary garments were discarded, their moans and wince mixing together. Prompto felt desperate and also rougher than usual, but Cindy simply encouraged him to let it all out. She'd rather he took some of his anger out on her, in ways that made her legs weak and her spine melt, instead of the hard feelings coming down on him in self-hatred.
They staved off sleep for as long as they could, hoping to keep their nightmares at bay. When their energy finally ran out, they cuddled close, picking on the dumbest topics or wondering about the preparations still needed in Free Crown. Cindy asked herself if she could get her paw-paw out of the place or if he'd started to grow roots.
"It'd be nice to have roots somewhere," Prompto whispered against her ear lobe.
"Ya know, ya'll belong wherever ya go, as long as ya're with yar friends. And with me, of course."
"That's… How…?"
"I just have to warn ya, Prom. Don't ever call me blondie, okay?"
"Okay… Can I know why?"
"Cause that's how the bad guys call me. And ya're no bad guy," Cindy stated.
His first reaction was to protest, but her eyes were fluttering close and despite all the blood on his hands, he had to admit to himself that every life he'd taken so far hadn't been out of hatred. 15 had been Verstael's work more than him. Self-defense in a drugged stupor. His mother had been an act of kindness, as much as it destroyed him inside. The one thing he felt bad for was Otto-1. Because he knew deep inside, no matter how many times he would be given the choice again, he'd pulled the trigger. Over and over. He was nearly angry the man hadn't suffered any more.
Cindy's hands wrapped around his. Squeezed his fingers. Pull his arms tighter around her. Somehow, his presence comforted her. Somehow…
Enough man, you've been crying on your sorry self long enough. If every MTs is one of them, Otto-1 was only a number along the strings, he thought.
And a number wouldn't define him. No matter how many doubts he had to face and the nightmares that were sure to haunt him forever.
…
"I know I could walk if you'd let me…" Crowe offered as he laid her on the couch.
"You were buried under a ton of concrete and couldn't be healed by either Luna or Iris. Excuse me if I'm a bit over-precautious when I handle you," Gladiolus shot back.
She laughed at that, her smile lopsided. On the ride here, she'd been falling in and out of consciousness and he was expecting her to do so again.
"Crowe, you're scaring me."
"I'm sorry. I… I get the feeling I could just drift apart."
Her lips curved downward, fear showing on her face. And Gladiolus couldn't help but remember the mark on her back. Her hand was small in his hand, but he was thankful for the strength he felt as she squeezed his palm.
"Just stay with me, alright?"
"Look who's clingy now," Crowe sighed. "And when I'm still the damsel in distress."
He pecked her cheek and gently pulled her clothes half open, to assert the overall damage. Her sides were tender, but despite the bruising and her new white scar, she fared better than he expected.
"If you're in distress, I don't want to know what that metro station was. Noctis said you destroyed it all on your own. He talked of a light of providence too."
Crowe's eyes snapped fully open at that and her breathing accelerated, the words echoing with something deep within her. Her hands tried to push him away out of pure reflex and it wasn't before he'd grabbed her by both shoulders that she calmed down.
"Oh no… Gladio, I think I remember what… Something took over me. There was light everywhere, but I was in the dark. And this isn't the first time this happened either."
"Took over by what?"
"I'm not sure. My magic went out of control after he stabbed me. I was bleeding and the next instant, it stopped. My head was pounding so much, I thought it was about to explode."
Gladiolus didn't know how to process this. He had half a mind to alert Luna and ask answers out of her, since she was the best reference they had for anything paranormal. But at the same time, he doubted the princess knew what this could be. Kneeling on the couch next to her, he had to force himself not to pull her in his lap right here and there, instead running one hand on her forehead. No fever unless he was burning up himself.
"Are those words familiar? Light of…" he started, only for her fingers to cover his lips mid-sentence.
"Don't say it. I don't know why, but it makes my head throb," Crowe admitted.
"You said this happened before…" Gladio went on.
"When… the other glaives cornered me," she blinked away a few tears, trying to keep the memories at bay. "There was a light in the middle of the night. But I don't… I didn't do any magic back then. At least not that I remember."
"Can I check something?"
"I'm not sure why you'd need to ask…" Crowe observed, frowning slightly.
"On our first night… I saw a mark on your back."
"What sort of… Wait, why didn't you tell me right away?!"
He gulped down, feeling the same unease as that night. The words were nearly stuck in his throat and he spat them out, anger rising as he showed weakness.
"I was… Goddammit, I was terrified. And with everything going on, I sort of blocked it out."
She wanted to be angry at him, but instead, she decided to focus on the current problem.
"I want to see it."
He helped her to the bathroom and had to assist her in taking off the tight top under her coat. They both gasped as the brand appeared, far larger than before. Hiding her chest defensively, Crowe shivered at the notion anything this big could have evaded her attention. She sat on the counter to have a better look in the mirror, twisting her neck on one side and then the other.
The falling star dove past her spine, its head covering the lower half of her back while the tail nearly crossed over her shoulder to reach the front of her body.
"How could I miss…?"
"It was way smaller," Gladiolus reassured her.
"But… What's causing it? The blight doesn't do that…"
He ran his fingertips along the brand, whiter than the rest of her skin.
"It feels the same as the rest of you… But you didn't have it before we took care of Quezacoatlz. Did anything strange happen?"
"You mean, outside of everything else? I don't know… Unless it's the crystal's magic reacting to something since I received it twice… What the hell is happening to me?!"
Panic was starting to take over her and he knew it would be contagious if he didn't calm her now.
"Whoa, so far, you only lost control when you're using your magic, am I right?"
"Yeah, but… What started this?"
They both thought of the violent migraines she had whenever Luna or Iris used their magic. It had started with Iris gaining Bahamut's blessing. There was no need for words and Crowe looked back at her reflection, experimentally running her own hand along the brand.
"It doesn't hurt. But it's not a cool tattoo either."
"You don't need cool tattoos," Gladiolus retorted in earnest.
His hands hovered about her frame and she leaned into his touch, feeling desperate now. She needed answers and had no idea where to get them.
"Aren't you scared of me yet?" Crowe inquired.
"Why would I be? I'm more worried of what could happen to you."
She looked into his eyes, a frail smile lighting up her features.
"Really?"
Her hands slowly slipped beneath his shirt, looking for warmth and he nodded, tongue-tied by the fatigue mixing with his own anxiety regarding her situation. He leaned into her, both of them melting into a long and thorough kiss. She felt fragile under his hands and it terrified him. This wasn't the Crowe he knew, but she had a right to be tired. She winced when he pressed into her and almost instantly, the large man was backing away, only to feel her hands gripping to his shirt and pulling it open.
"Can we take a bath? And first thing tomorrow, we'll get Luna and try to understand what's wrong with me?" Crowe offered.
He agreed, drawing a nice and warm bath for her. The tub was too small for them both to fit comfortably, but she was still sore and tired, which made her feel like a doll between his hands. Nothing like her, but still her in the way she sighed and smiled and tried to help him as he helped her.
He was careful of not putting soap in her eyes, careful of controlling his instincts when his fingers wished to linger on her wet skin. Crowe didn't want fleeting caresses if she couldn't give them back. She already felt bad to be so dependent she could barely lift one hand. Her muscles were so strained…
"You must be exhausted too," she breathed out.
"We'll sleep soon enough."
With the food arrived, he quickly dried her up and helped her into new clothes. She sat in his lap as they ate, both using their hands instead of forks, giving each other a glimpse of their plates. He'd taken off his shirt and seemed comfortable enough like this, as long as she stayed close to him. He knew he could lose her at any time. But it had clearly come close today and his protective instincts were ablaze with the taste of failure.
Gladiolus had merely glanced at Ace's body as they walked past the collapse. Cindy had gasped at it, and the blood everywhere. A few limbs missing, guts scattered and concrete mashed into the skin. But Crowe hadn't been herself. And even if she'd been, could he really resent her for taking out her rage on the spawn of Titus Drautos, who'd basically condemned her to die at the hands of her comrades? No, he couldn't. He'd never gotten a chance to battle Ace before, but he would have left some heavy damage.
"Can I hear what happened to you?" she asked.
His hands tensed as he took a sharp breath, blowing it out through his nostrils. Her fingers had been playing with the pendant on his necklace and halted as she raised her eyes to meet his weary gaze.
"You gathered the fact Insomnia was crawling with Prompto's clones, didn't you?"
"I caught some of your talk on the way back," Crowe whispered.
A deep sigh brushed against her forehead and he replaced a few strands of hair behind her ears. His gestures were slow and she realized that he wasn't simply being careful. He was emotionally and physically spent.
"I fought a guy today. A guy who looked and talked just like Prompto. His face was half burned, his shoulders were larger, he used a freaking gunblade, but his eyes were the very same…"
Gladiolus blinked, finding himself back in the airship's cockpit for a brief minute. The cloudy sky through the windows. Cindy battling with the controls while he kept Otto-8's attention on him. Sword hitting each other, sending sparks everywhere around. And the questions running in his head. About how much he still needed to learn regarding their chocobo-loving friend. Otto-8 wasn't one to play mind games, although he poured an unhealthy amount of anger in every of his strike. And when the first opening appeared, Gladiolus hesitated, which gave the clone all the answers he needed.
"So you know my baby brother, Otto-0. I'd rather have a fair fight here, with no holding back. Unlike him, I don't need to be cuddled to win!" Otto-8 roared angrily.
His next lunge was strong enough to push Gladio's back against the wall. And beneath the anger and the steel determination, as he held his own, the shield spotted the sparkles of doubt. Out of all the clones, out of every child wearing this face, Prompto had been the lucky one. Some of them were still wondering why, while Prompto himself clearly didn't feel worthy of it…
"Gladiolus?" Crowe asked him, snapping him back to reality.
"Sorry… I was… I'm just wondering whether we're going to have to guess which Prompto is the real one again. And how bad the guy must be feeling right now."
Her smile was sad but filled with comprehension.
"Hopefully, he's sleeping, and not going through any nightmare."
Her comment reminded him of how much she needed sleep herself and he carried her into the largest bedroom of the house with little complaints from the former Glaive. He was about ready to crash himself and would have snuggled close if he wasn't worried about aggravating her wounds. Laying her down on her back, he considered staying on his own side of the bed, only to hear her whine in protest.
"I still feel pretty clingy," Gladio warned her. "And your ribs…"
"I don't think it's so bad anymore. I'm merely sore. Let's test it, give me your hands."
He gingerly obliged her, gaping as she gently pressed his large hands to her side, no pain showing on her face.
"I think it fixed itself…" Crowe hypothesized, shifting close to his side.
She clearly felt just as clingy as him and her first shiver was inspired only by fear. He gathered her close, one arm under her head, leaning his face in the crook of her shoulder. Listening closely for the sound of her heartbeat, finding comfort in her chest rising under his cheek. The signs he'd look for when he'd sneaked in his mother's bed at night, right after Iris had fallen back to sleep. The signs which had betrayed him and taken her away too soon.
He felt guilty for not looking out for Iris after learning what she'd been through. Guilty for not better understanding Prompto's situation and letting him on the battlefield. Guilty for how shaken his friends were, for how shaken he was himself. Crowe tried to settle closer to him, but he held her in place, his frame trembling slightly.
"Gladdy, are you…?"
She realized how he curled up around her and the way his breathing slowly turned uneven. It was all sinking in. The terror, his helplessness despite all his training. She fought against the fog aiming to take over her consciousness.
"There's no need to hold it in," she encouraged him.
The dam he'd kept around his emotions ruptured entirely. His hold turned stronger, almost painful and she held him back with what little strength she had.
"I couldn't tell you were breathing right away. And all the blood… The brand…"
His shiver rippled through her, echoing her fears but also warming her heart. He wasn't simply scared. He was overwhelmed by fear. And that meant he cared as much as she did.
"Gladio…"
"I can protect you from a lot of things. But I have no idea how to keep you safe right now. And I want more time, more…"
He'd fallen too hard. He hadn't listened to the voice of reason and let his heart decide for him. It was so damn easy to love Crowe. And still, it hurt like hell, as he pictured the changes that would take over her. The blight eating his mother apart was so clear in his mind. Iris barely remembered, but he did. And it seemed the Astrals wanted to test him again. Crowe sobbed next to him.
"I'm not leaving you if I have my say in this," she blurted out.
"I know, I'm sorry, babe, you don't need…"
"No, don't keep me in the dark. I want more time with you too."
His laugh sounded like a whimper and he kissed her collarbone, letting out a heavy sigh.
"No doom talk," he decided. It felt too much like burying her before her time. "You're here, you're in my arms, that's all I need. No more tears?"
She sniffled and swallowed back a sob, her fingers running through his hair.
"If we have tears to shed, now is the best moment we'll get."
His throat was too tight, but he realized a few drops had already rolled down his face. He'd never felt this sort of despair. Seeing himself losing her and knowing there was nothing he could do to prevent it if worse came to worse. They drifted to a bitter sleep, holding each other close, Crowe silencing her fear of not being herself when she would wake up again in the morning. They were together at the moment. Shaken and unsure of what the future had in store for them, but still together and able to understand each other. They couldn't ask for much else.
…
Lunafreya found it particularly hard to wake up. Her limbs were heavy, her body and heart sore from all the fighting and also her extended shower with Noctis. Said man was lying next to her, tensed up even in his sleep. He was having a nightmare. She'd lost count through the night of her own succession of bad dreams. She ruffled his hair, smiling as his arms instinctively wrapped around her and pulled her close. Their bed was old, creaking at every movement, but she liked how the clean sheets felt beneath her skin, and how the mattress was softer than their recent cots.
A look at her phone screen told her it was getting late. She felt the first pangs of hunger and determined Noctis was just as hungry, or even more than her.
"Sleepy head…" she called him, voice soft.
He whined in protest, nuzzling her neck with his nose. Luna retorted by blowing against his ear, knowing how ticklish he was.
"Why don't we sleep more?" he mumbled.
"I'm hungry. And also worried about the others…"
Noctis looked up at that, his face too pale for comfort.
"I don't know what to tell Prompto…"
He hid his face against her chest and Luna felt ready to incline in some comfort cuddling, but fought against her first instinct, shrugging him off with some wiggling.
"I don't know what to tell him either. But I don't think you should wai…"
Noctis cut her off the best way he knew how: with his lips on her mouth. It was sloppy and just as desperate as last night, but the whine escaping Luna's throat as he pressed into her gave him all the permission he needed. Their nerves were raw and he liked to feel her shiver next to him knowing she wasn't cold this time. Last night had been more about rushed comfort than pleasure. Or maybe was he only looking for more comfort? She felt so warm under his hands, warm despite the ice she could call forth with a snap of her fingers.
He held her hands above her head, not caring for morning breath any more than she did. He merely needed to feel something else than the pain. They had talked last night. Talked for hours, about the looks in either of their Otto's eyes. He'd told her what 13 had told him. How Prompto had tried to end his own life back when he was a mere child. And how it terrified Noctis to think he could lose his friend like this now, with everything the gunman had gone through.
Suicide had never sounded remotely possible for either of them, no matter how terrible their future looked. They had the fate of the world on their shoulders. And it was so heavy… Nearly as heavy as he felt on her now. Noctis stopped his kisses and pulled away as quickly as he'd come down on Luna, looking slightly ashamed.
"I get the feeling I'm using you," he confessed.
"You're quite gentle about it. Not as much as I was last night," she reminded him.
It felt pretty crazy that they could still blush after everything they'd shared, but they did. Hands linking, fingers lacing. Lying half-naked in their tangled sheets. Her stomach grumbled, soon copied by Noctis's.
"We really should get dressed. And see who else is awake."
Luna winced slightly as she shuffled out of bed, and Noctis didn't move any faster than her, just as sore from the collection of events they'd just been through.
"I'm taking a warm bath as soon as I've seen Crowe and understood what has happened to her," she declared after putting on a dress and her hooded jacket.
Noctis was taken aback for an instant, seeing her in the clothes she'd worn at the very start of their journey. How many months had passed? Christmas was nearly there, and he couldn't even recall how his last Christmas had felt.
"We met in September for the first time in 12 years. Years of letters, and doubts and fears of the idea I might never really… And now, it feels as though you've been with me my entire life."
Noctis hadn't realized he'd said it out loud until he saw Luna's wide eyes looking back at him. Her smile looked even more fragile than the other day and he felt something shift in his heart as he understood how much he meant it.
He'd come further along in the last three months and a half than in his entire damn life. And it was all because he wanted to catch up to her. Or because his friends needed him to stand tall?
Walk tall, Regis had said.
"I didn't know how much I missed you until I finally got to be with you. And I'm grateful for every moment," Lunafreya declared without hesitation.
Their feet guided them to each other and their slow, tender kiss tried to share all the words they hadn't told each other yet. The time they spent together never seemed enough, but they both knew their friends needed them just as much. And the hunger was growing unbearable. They hadn't eaten their full plate the other day, and it was catching up to them.
After collecting the scattered clothes lying around the passageway and the bathroom, Noctis and Luna walked out. Monica greeted them, sitting on the stairs leading to her own house. She held her phone in one hand, a spoon in the other; which was explained by the yummy stew fuming on her lap, the dish sitting on a portable platter.
"Did you two get any rest?"
"We did, but not enough yet…" Luna admitted.
"I saw your friends Ignis and Prompto heading a bit further west from the premises. Ignis said they would collect ingredients for lunch, but Aranea brought us enough left-overs from last night to all eat our fills…"
"Aren't you… even slightly shocked by what we saw yesterday?" Noctis asked her.
Monica paused, giving it a serious thought, before to look back at her prince right in the eyes:
"I've seen my home city crumbling down twice now. And daemons hunting down the refugees. I didn't know the chancellor before yesterday and there was clearly something going on with how Scientia treated the situation. I don't want to belittle your friend, but I have seen many soldiers fall down already. I'm glad the real deal is with us."
She frowned a bit and for an instant, Luna thought the older woman would ask them if they were certain it was the real Prompto they'd brought back. Noctis's hand tensed around her palm and the princess gave a curt nod to Monica, hoping she would understand her silent message.
"By the way, Crowe came over to talk with Iris. They're quizzing Cor about some folklore, but I'm not sure he's doing any better than me," Monica said before to lift her spoon to her lips.
Noctis had half a mind to grab some food, but Luna pushed him to the west path with a gentle tap on the shoulder. She wasn't sure what questions she might have to answer, but she knew she owed more attention to the former Glaive. The woman had been ready to give up her life for her before even meeting with her.
…
Noctis didn't have long to walk but couldn't hide his surprise when he saw the camp Gladiolus had set up for them. Ignis was preparing lunch on his makeshift kitchen and Prompto had agreed to a game of cards with the big guy. All three of his friends spotted him from afar, but none looked up for a minute longer.
"Hey guys…"
"Good morning to you, sleeping beauty," Gladiolus retorted.
The usual underlying laugh wasn't entirely there. Prompto shifted his hands, clutching to the cards so hard that a few bent in places. Ignis had prepared his favorite sandwiches and set the plates in everyone's hands. The first bite was harder to swallow than Noctis expected and he heaved a sigh. The silence lingering between the four friends was uneasy and tense. It weighed on every of their shoulders and it wasn't before that Ignis cleared his throat that Noctis finally gathered up the nerves to address the elephant in the room.
"I don't want to go and pretend like nothing happened yesterday," he warned. "But first, I want you to understand that none of what happened was your fault, Prompto."
That clearly shook the gunman, who swallowed hard, shoulders sagging.
"I pulled that trigger knowing full well what every of you were seeing. I just couldn't bring myself to hear him…"
His voice nearly broke and he ran one hand through his hair, clearly looking for the right words to explain himself. Because no matter which way he looked at it, he felt guilty. And wouldn't the others turn afraid of him after seeing him kill people close to him that easily?
"I've always, always been terrified at the idea I could be replaced. That's all we were even meant to be, but in Insomnia… Well, that was my turf."
"You know, if I'd see someone impersonating me, I would want to rip his head off," Gladio observed matter-of-factly.
Prompto let out a long breath, before to admit his main worry.
"Why don't you just say I'm a freak?"
"That would be rather unfair of us," Ignis countered. "As weird as you can be at times, with your obsession for chocobos or photography, I don't believe you qualify as freaky."
"But I…"
"Hell, kid, we've killed our share of people," Gladiolus reminded him.
Noctis raised his head after looking at his own hands in silence for a good part of their talk. Prompto's attention was instantly on him and somehow, Ignis and Gladio knew that the prince's opinion mattered more to their friend than anyone's else.
"I had to face… a kid Otto, and to see most of them lying in a puddle of their own blood," Noctis started. "And while I knew for sure it wasn't you each time, I couldn't help but think… I know you never really cared to talk about your past, but they got me wondering how bad…"
Prompto looked away first, trying to fight against the anger he felt. He didn't want pity from his friends. The silence that followed was heavier still and the gunman couldn't stand it for long, his nerves already raw from his short night and the fact he'd faced his worst nightmare.
"I barely escaped being a child soldier, but Gladiolus was pretty much one while Ignis… Were you ever allowed to be a child?" he asked the tactician who shrugged in answer.
"I suspect I was allowed more than you. But we haven't gathered here to make a contest about which one of us had the most miserable life," Ignis observed.
"I'd win anyway, since I'm older than any of you," Gladio joked.
Noctis was worried for an instant that Prompto was right in his assertion and that he'd missed much more suffering than he'd thought. But could he really blame himself for it? He'd been a child.
"I don't want to make things worse," Noctis stated. "But I get the impression I could have made your life easier if I hadn't been so aloof when I was younger. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry…"
Prompto had often wondered how much things would have been different. If he'd become Noctis's friend way, way before the time he finally considered his appearance worthy of the prince. He drummed against his knee, clearly more nervous than his usual fidgety self.
"I don't blame you. Or any of you, guys. I don't need an apology. You saw that… brethren and how messed up they were. You got number 0 out of the lot, for better or for worse…"
"Prompto," Gladiolus warned. "It's not a lottery."
"Isn't it?" The young man bitterly retorted.
"Dude, your mother got you out for a reason. More than one actually," Noctis declared firmly.
Three pairs of eyes went to him, brows furrowed. Ignis and Gladiolus had little to no information about the Otto. It was clear to the prince his friend needed to know for himself why out of every clone, he'd been saved and placed in Insomnia.
"How…?"
"That Otto-13 told me. About how your reaction to the daemon blood was different and would have made Verstael's research advance faster. How you stayed sane and refused to obey the sick orders given, while the others grew even more violent."
Prompto glared into Noctis's eyes, clearly doubting his claims. But after seeing how his friend didn't waver, the gunman started to wonder; and to question his own memories. Could he remember it wrong?
"13… I think I never really fought with 13. He was so much smaller than the rest of us… We'd give him food and try to keep him out of sight mostly. It's… It's hard to remember anything," he sighed, trying to push away any thoughts concerning his mother.
It hurt even more than when he'd killed her.
"If you've blocked these memories, they might be better left alone," Ignis offered.
Prompto could only nod and Noctis realized he didn't feel better yet, even though he'd apologized. The way Prompto talked about his past, it was clear he'd cared for the other clones. They hadn't always been competing against each other. Except when Verstael deemed it a worthy test and drugged them silly.
"I won't pretend I know how you feel," Noctis sighed. "I don't have the right words to address this… nightmare we went through. But I can't forget his face. Or how I felt when I ended him."
"Good gods, man… I'm just glad I didn't have to shoot at more than one of them," Prompto admitted, voice wavering on the last words. "I freaking hate them, don't get me wrong. But taking them out like trash… That's not who I am. At least not what I want to be…"
"We know that, Prom. As your mother did," Noctis declared.
His sharp intake of breath was his only chance to swallow down the tears that threatened to fall. Ignis put one hand on his shoulder and Gladiolus uncrossed his arms, despite how uncomfortable the emotional display made him feel. They were all shaken enough as it was. It wouldn't take a lot for either one of them to tip over and turn into a sobbing mess.
"How do we know I'm me from now on? How did any of you two know I was me?" Prompto asked Ignis and Noctis with a sniffle.
"I can't explain it," the tactician whispered. "I simply knew. And Noctis can apparently turn off Ardyn's spells, which should prove useful in the future to clear up any similar situation."
"Yeah, I still don't know how I managed that. But I could tell something was wrong right away… You can bet we'll be able to tell again if anything similar happens."
Gladiolus didn't voice his impression that after the Otto-massacre their group had perpetrated, there was little chance for this to happen again.
"If anything, we should be careful of making sure everyone in our group is the real deal, not just you, Prompto. Ardyn can clearly impersonate anyone he'd want too, since he can transform people that well," Ignis observed.
They all darkened at that. Prompto sobered up as he realized what it could mean for his friends and for himself.
"You mean we should always doubt everyone in the team now that we know what that psycho can do?!"
"Whoa, whoa, that can't be right. What's his deal anyway?" Gladiolus protested. "First he's a creepy messenger from the empire. He kidnaps Luna to test her powers on MTs. Then he thinks he's related to Ifrit and gets burned to a crisp only to barge back and mess around with Prompto and the Ottos."
"Thing is, we have no idea what he can and can't do. Can we even kill the guy? Both Luna and Gladio saw him go down in smoke," Noctis reminded them.
"He's quite alive, I can assure you. How he managed that and what he wants… That's another question entirely," Prompto added.
He was still holding down most of his furious emotions, but the fact the talk was veering away from him and his most recent actions helped in containing the worst of it.
"The empire had one agenda, but it's getting clearer that Izunia had his own plans for Insomnia. And particularly for Noctis's entourage. He's trying to sabotage us. And even though we could say we won in Insomnia yesterday, it was more thanks to luck than anything. We can't expect him to stop any time soon," Ignis explained before to go on. "Quezacoatlz was a mess of a mission and we went into Insomnia unprepared."
They all nodded in agreement, even Noctis, although it pained him to admit he hadn't been careful enough, when he compared to how little he cared for tactics a few months ago.
"We got too strong too fast. Ardyn gave us a false sense of security. I hate the impression he's been toying with us, but Ace was getting his orders from him, wasn't he?" the prince asked.
"From what little we've gathered," Ignis confirmed.
"And he was the one giving orders to the Ottos too," Prompto pointed out. "I'm starting to wonder what sort of power a chancellor is supposed to hold."
"Not that much," Gladio grunted. "That's for sure. And his magic makes no sense either. I thought only daemon and royals had any powers."
He didn't even send an apologetic look in Noctis's direction, despite comparing him to a daemon. He was too frustrated by this puzzle in front of them to realize the potential damage and the prince himself didn't really mind.
"What I wonder the most here is… How did they even control that swarm? Was anyone calling the shots outside of Izunia?" Ignis asked, not looking at any of them in particular.
"You know, I think Ravus could help us with that puzzle," Prompto suggested. "He's the most familiar with the empire. I could complain about child abuse for hours on end, but I don't remember much from Nifelheim outside of Verstael's facilities. They were set apart from any big town, in a cold wasteland if my memories from the run are right."
The frown or concerned look they gave him earned them a pitiful laugh.
"Come on, if I don't try to make it sound normal, I might never pick myself back up. I was free from that place for the last 17 years."
"Yeah, well you don't have to push yourself for our sakes," Gladiolus decided, instantly supported in his claim by both Ignis and Noctis.
Throat tight, Prompto struggled to get his point across.
"If you ask me to step down, I will. But I want the empire erased as much as any of you do, maybe even more… I haven't stopped shaking since the gun fell from my hand yesterday. But give me a target or any sort of goal, and I swear, my hands won't shake anymore."
"We're not ever taking you off the team Prom. If anything, we're all stepping down to get our bearings. I'd say we move from camp to camp for the next few days, gather the rest and strength we can," Noctis explained. "We need to make a quick sweep of Insomnia and then meet up with Libertus to see what Free Crown needs. But more than anything, I want to know that you three are doing alright."
They all seemed ready to protest, to which Noctis interrupted, eyes sharp and resolute.
"You're my best friends. My brothers. And you're always looking out for me, because I'm the chosen king. Half the time, I don't even know what that means. But if all the powers I've collected can't help me look out for you three, I don't really see the point in what I'm doing. For the past months, I've pushed myself without realizing how hard I was pushing you all. This can't go on."
Gladiolus furiously blinked away a lone tear and Ignis lost countenance an instant. Prompto was the first one to fully smile.
"We're always going to be there for you, bro," the gunman declared, voice catching a bit.
"And if there's something wrong or if you finally regress to your actual age, I'll let you know, Noct," Gladiolus stated, deeply touched despite all his efforts to hide it.
"I don't see what else to add," Ignis sighed.
"Wordless Iggy?!" Prompto marveled.
"Well, I could observe that Noctis will definitely rush again in the future and forget these good sentiments at the first occasion Lunafreya appear to be even remotely in danger, but that wouldn't be quite appropriate."
"Wow, thanks for sparing us your words, Ignis," Noctis mocked him.
"When do we get the wedding? Or should we place bets to know if it won't be dragoon lady and stiffman first?" Gladiolus teased.
"Stiffman? Stiffman?!" Ignis repeated, mocking insult. "Is that the best you can come up with?"
Their laughs were anything but fake and Prompto joined in on the teasing, before to resume eating his monkey-grease sandwich. A few shoulder's claps and playful pushes were exchanged, the guys realizing their friendship had survived the nth challenge. Prompto was still raw and sensitive, as they all were, but their trust for him was clear and genuine. His self-doubts were the only thing left between him and happiness. And if the people around him refused to doubt, maybe was it okay for him to enjoy his own life. If only to make sure one of the many clones did have a meaningful existence.
To be continued…
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I hope you liked the talk between the boys. I think they addressed a lot of issues, while still not going just as deep as they could have. But Prompto is a lot more honest about his past. And the cold, direct way he addresses it clearly shock the boys. He's going to heal slowly. I don't aim to play too much with Ardyn *stitch in time -coughs- powers to warp his appearance* -chokes and dies- …Thankfully, my chocobo dungeon friend Volke brought me a phoenix down.
No seriously Ardyn, a stitch in time makes it possible for you to alter your appearance?! I know I've mentioned my dislike of this explanation before. But I can't help myself. XD
Next chapter, answers about Crowe's transformation, some Raviris, some planning regarding Ardyn's dangerous capabilities, another visit to Insomnia and more hurt/comfort before we head to Free Crown. I need to stop trying to predict when Altissia is going to start. Since I still need to have Aldercapt screw over the team before the Lucis continent sees his prince leaving.
As always, reviews make me happy! :D
