Summary: Noct has known about Prompto's origins for years, but he doesn't realize until one night in Galdin how deeply responsible Prompto feels for the fall of Insomnia.
(Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Established Relationship)
There was something indescribably peaceful about the Quay at night—the yellow-orange lights of the resort off in the distance, reflecting off the water; the gentle rolling of the ocean waves, and the chirping of crickets. Tonight, however, Prompto felt anything but peaceful, even in the warm night air, and the occasional soft plop of Noctis' lure as he cast his fishing line out into the water.
They had been out here for a while now. Noctis had voiced his need to unwind after the tension of the day's battles—leaving out the obvious part about also needing a distraction from his grief—and Ignis had given him permission to fish for a while, so long as Prompto accompanied him and they were back inside the caravan by ten o'clock for a good night's sleep.
It wasn't like Prompto wasn't happy to have Noct to himself for a while, since it wasn't a common occurrence while they were on the road, but guilt and sorrow were tying up his insides too much for him to truly enjoy this moment.
"There doesn't seem to be a lot biting tonight. It's weird," Noct sighed, reeling in his line, intending to cast again in a different spot.
He glanced behind him when Prompto didn't respond, assuming he was preoccupied with his phone, but instead found him curled in on himself, with his knees pulled up to his chest, chin resting on his arms. In the moonlight, Noct was sure he could see a wet shimmer under his eyes. Immediately, Noctis let his fishing rod vanish in a flash of purple, and hurried to kneel in front of Prompto, confirming that he had been wiping away tears.
"Hey, are you okay?" Noctis murmured, voice soft but not completely disguising his panic. Prompto's gaze flickered up to meet Noct's only for a second before diving sideways, towards the rippling waves to his left.
"It was... people like me who destroyed your home," Prompto uttered, weakly.
"What?!" Noct was wide-eyed, confused, scared.
"You know what I mean." Prompto drew his eyes back from the ocean and towards his wrist, where he rubbed his leather band uncomfortably over his branded skin. Noctis' hand landed on his own, ceasing the harmful motion before he rubbed the skin raw.
"You're not one of them," he promised, eyes begging Prompto to look at him; eventually he did, but he sadly didn't appear convinced of the prince's words. "Insomnia was your home, too."
"I know. I know, but I just feel like... this thing should have warned me about what they were going to do. It should have... lit up like a beacon or something—" Prompto went on, voice growing more high-pitched and emotional with each word, then it died out, his following statement coming out in a mere whisper.
"I should have known, so I could have stopped it."
"Prompto, it's just a mark," Noctis tried to soothe him, his hand travelling down to tenderly caress his knee. "It's not a tie to the imperials. It doesn't give you an inside line to their plans."
"I wish it did."
Prompto lowered his head so that his forehead rested against his arms, his tearful eyes disappearing behind them. Noctis' expression saddened, mouth twitching as he tried to decide what to do next. Prompto looked so vulnerable, so small, especially without his usual denim jacket to cover his lean form. Ignis had taken the jacket for mending and cleaning before they'd left for the fishing spot, insisting that the dirt and repairs better be taken care of before the damage was irreparable.
Without another thought, Noctis slipped off his own jacket and draped it around Prompto's shoulders, startling him with the contact. Prompto's head shot up again in curiosity, and Noct merely smiled softly as he sat down beside him, and wrapped an arm around him. Prompto allowed himself—with little reluctance—to be pulled in close against Noctis' side, and together they stared out over the moonlit ocean.
"The empire's plan was so much bigger than us. We probably couldn't have saved everyone, even if we had known what was coming," Noctis assured his companion.
Now that they were this close, Noctis could feel the slight trembling of Prompto's body. Prompto nodded numbly, still appearing unconvinced when Noct glanced at him sidelong.
"But your dad... There was something in his eyes that day we left... I should have at least known then that something was wrong. Maybe we could have at least saved him."
"Prompto," Noct addressed, sternly, gazes finally locking.
Prompto's mouth was parted slightly, eyes displaying fear that he'd crossed a line. Noct would be damned if he let Prompto take the fall for his father's death; Noctis had seen that look in his eyes, too, but even he hadn't known what his father had been hiding. How could Prompto have figured it out when he barely even knew the man?
"None of this is your fault. None of it. Why are you so insistent on blaming yourself?" Noctis frowned.
He watched the bob of Prompto's adam's apple as he swallowed hard. Eyes saddening, Prompto stared at his concerned and loving prince, wanting nothing more than to give him an outlet for his grief and resentment and anger.
"You have to hate something, right? You have to blame someone for this mess. It might as well be me."
Noctis stared at him as if he had grown an extra head. The waves didn't sound peaceful anymore; they sounded more like monsters trying to rise from a watery grave. The summer breeze made the hair on Noct's arms stand up straight as if he were in the dead of winter.
What did Prompto think he was going to do? Beat him up until he was broken and bruised so that he could let out the pent-up array of complicated emotions? Kick him out of the group because he had spent, like, a second in Niflheim's care before he was even old enough to talk?
"You think I need something to hate?" Noct quizzed, brows furrowed. Prompto nodded, meekly, eyes drifting down and away from Noct's.
"Well, it will never be you. You're the one thing that's... making any of this okay," Noct assured him, with a defeated shake of his head. "So don't think for a second I'm letting you go anywhere, or that I'm going to hurt you for some crime you didn't commit. Because I need you, Prompto. I need you."
The next thing Prompto felt was a pair of lips on his cheek, so smooth and gentle, their touch lingering. Noctis pulled Prompto in a little closer against him, hand squeezing his arm affectionately, and Prompto tilted his head in response, catching Noct's next kiss with his own lips. That was when emotions finally broke free, when both parties found tears trickling down their cheeks.
They hadn't let themselves cry over their lost home, not until now, and although it hurt, it was soothing to not be alone in this moment. It was that night that Prompto realized that grief wasn't something that needed to be dealt with with hatred or violence, but that the pain could be lessened—even if only a little—by sharing it with someone he loved.
