Summary: (Instead of Gladio) Prompto is separated from the group along with Noctis as they seek the Archean
(Tension, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship)

For Promptis Fanweek 2018 (Day 4: "Please don't leave me.")

"Hey! Titan! What's the big idea?!" Noct shouted, his voice cracking with a mix of fury and pain. Prompto's gaze rushed towards him, and he reached out for his hand, trying his best not to look down at the tiny ledge that they were both manoeuvring across. One wrong step, and they'd probably both fall to their doom.

"Noct, come on! Not now," the boy urged, successfully gripping Noctis' hand, and reminding him to keep scooting along the wall with him. They made it to the other side of the ledge just before the Archaen threw down its giant fist. The impact broke apart the ground, and sent the two young men flying down to a lower level, along with a large amount of rubble.

Prompto rolled as he hit the ground, but he got to his hands and knees as soon as he caught his breath. He looked back at Titan, whose golden-eyed gaze was no longer following them. Relieved, he let out a sigh. They were safe, for now at least.

"You okay, Noct?" he asked, turning his head back to his friend, but the prince didn't look well. He lay on his back, his eyes closed, a hand pressed hard against his forehead. Prompto crawled to his side, his hand reaching for his shoulder and giving him a shake that he'd intended to be gentle, but his panic lessened that tenderness.

"Noct! Is it your head again?"

"Damn... It kills," Noct muttered through clenched teeth, his breaths sharp and choppy. Prompto bit his lip, feeling completely unsure of what to do. They'd barely made it this far with Noct's head searing like this. Should he try and move him? Or would that make it worse? Ignis was good at this sort of thing, Prompto thought. Him, not so much.

Noctis sucked in a painful-sounding breath, one that made his body tremble as the air entered his lungs. Prompto's brows twisted with worry as he felt his friend's form shaking under his touch.

"Tell me how to help," he said, gently, but the softness of his voice was partly caused by nerves; he felt weak with fear, and he wasn't sure how he was going to get them out of this mess. If they could just regroup with the others, things would be fine, he told himself, but they still had a ways to go before their paths would meet up again. They had to make it back up to higher ground.

"Just gimme a minute," Noctis growled, clutching his head tighter. Prompto heard a growl from behind him, and he looked back to see Titan shifting his position. Rocks tumbled from the surrounding slopes as the great being slowly turned toward the men on the rock, huge dust clouds rising around him as he moved.

"Uh, sorry, buddy. We don't have a minute." Prompto's voice was slightly high-pitched and frightened as he spoke, but Noctis was too out of it to notice. He groaned in response to Prompto's hands under his arms, pulling him up.

"Come on. We gotta move!" Prompto panicked, as Titan raised his giant hand again.

Pulling one of Noct's arms around his neck, and wrapping his own arm around the prince's waist, Prompto guided their stumbling feet around the corner of the platform and into a tunnel. He continued on until he found a recess in one of the rocky walls, and carefully, he helped Noct inside.

"Here we go. We're okay," Prompto assured his companion, as he aided him to the back wall and lowered them both to the ground, backs resting against the stone. Noctis fell limply in against Prompto, and Prompto didn't dare remove his arm from Noct's waist, for fear that the prince might topple over against the stony ground if left on his own. Noctis was making tiny, pained noises, but his eyes were still shut, and Prompto wasn't sure if he was even completely conscious anymore.

He didn't have to wonder for long. As a violent tremor wracked Noct's body, the prince reached for the front of Prompto's shirt, his damp, shaky fingers curling into the fabric under his denim jacket.

"Nng... Wish it would stop," he grumbled, letting out a sharp gasp as he finished. When he exhaled, his breath came out in a weak shudder. Wish we knew what was doing this to you, Prompto thought desperately, but he promised himself he would keep his cool. The boys weren't here to help them this time, so it was his job to keep them both safe for now. Somewhere in that insecure shell of his was a part of him that knew he had to do this—that he could do this.

Prompto wrapped his other arm around Noctis, and his hand rubbed tenderly at the prince's arm. He tilted his head in against Noct's, where it was falling in against his shoulder, his cheek resting on soft, black hair. Despite the comfort, Noctis' body vibrated with another shiver and a weak moan accompanied it.

"Just tell me how to help," Prompto said again, this time his voice full of so much emotion and care that Noctis wouldn't have been surprised to feel tears against his hair. Prompto had always been this way: desperate to help in any way he could, and beside himself with emotion when he simply didn't know how. It had always pained Noct to see him like that, feeling so unsure of himself, and so even now, as his head burned with an agonizing heat that would have obscured his vision had he opened his eyes, he felt the need to let Prompto know he was on the right track.

"You're doing fine," Noctis breathed, still refusing to open his eyes, as he knew he'd only see white from the searing pain.

"Really? 'Cause I've no clue what to do," Prompto meekly admitted, giving a very small shrug so that he wouldn't disturb Noctis' position. Between another gasp of pain and a trembling exhale, Noct managed a few more words.

"You're good. You're... warm," he mumbled, soaking in the comfort of the fact as his face rested against Prompto's bare shoulder. To his surprise, he heard Prompto give a small chuckle; it sounded like he'd needed a laugh.

"Warm? You should be, too. This place is full of burning rock." Out of curiosity, Prompto withdrew his hand from Noctis' arm, and felt his forehead for a temperature. He was plenty warm, his head sticky with perspiration, and his skin hot to the touch.

"You're a little feverish," Prompto gently stated, trying to downplay that fact so it wouldn't make Noct feel any worse. Noctis simply curled his fingers a little tighter into Prompto's shirt, and nestled his body in as close as he could to his gentle heat. Despite not being cold himself, Prompto's warmth seemed to take away the aches and shivers that had been running down his spine and into his limbs. Prompto circled Noct's back with his fingers, and smiled softly against his hair as he felt his friend relax against him. Noctis really seemed to be enjoying the heat of their contact.

"Just focus on feeling better, okay?" he said, gently, slowly realizing that he was capable of handling the situation, no matter how simple or silly the remedy.

"Prompto?" Noct asked, his shudders seeming to lessen as he spoke.

"Yeah?"

"Please, don't leave me."

Prompto glanced down at the man in his arms—his closed eyes, his curled up, vulnerable form—and wondered what he had meant by the statement. Did he mean not to leave him right now to go find Ignis and Gladio? Or, did he mean not to leave him on this journey? Or, like, ever? However he'd meant it, the same answer applied, and it was a simple one.

"I never will."

"Promise me," Noct breathed, tiredly.

"I'm like a fish on the end of your line, buddy. You can set me free if you want to, but otherwise, you might as well just reel me in, 'cause I'm not goin' anywhere," Prompto smiled, and Noct chuckled softly, his breath warming Prompto's chest.

"Good," he murmured, as he snuggled in a little closer, and drifted into peaceful unconsciousness.