Summary: A few days after the destruction in Altissia, Noctis finally has the courage to speak his mind.
(Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship)
The inn in Altissia was perfectly quiet, and yet, for the life of him, Prompto could not fall asleep. Perhaps it was because that silence was caused by the shock of the incident with Leviathan. The city's poor citizens were probably cooped up in what was left of their homes, and the tourists had probably fled as quickly as they could. Yes, this silence was definitely an eery one.
Prompto let out a heavy breath, hands resting behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, not that he could make it out in the pitch dark. He was startled as the door swung open, a white-blue light in the hallway allowing him to see Noctis' silhouette. The prince stumbled into the room, shutting the door behind him. Prompto expected him to take the next bed over, as he'd been doing that ever since the attack, but he instead headed for Prompto's and lifted up the covers. Prompto eagerly scooted over to let him slide in beside him.
He felt Noct's arm reach around his waist almost instantly, and he could tell from how rushed and determined his actions were that something was up. Prompto gave a bittersweet smile through the darkness, and Noct could hear it in his voice when he spoke.
"What is it, buddy?" He brushed a thumb gently over Noct's arm as he asked the question.
"I've been pulling away from you ever since... ever since it happened. I've been shutting everyone out," Noctis rambled, voice breaking with every few words, and Prompto could smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath. So, that was why he had the courage to talk now. It wasn't ideal, but if it allowed them to start communicating again, then Prompto would take it.
Prompto moved his hand up from Noct's arm and found the back of his neck. He stroked gently before coaxing Noct's head forward to rest on his shoulder. Noct didn't protest, but rather nestled himself deeper in against his companion's neck as Prompto's free arm pulled him in close.
"It's okay. You did what you had to to deal with this," Prompto assured him, but he felt Noct shake his head.
"I haven't been dealing. I've been avoiding."
"It takes time."
"Prompto?" The sad desperation in Noct's voice was startling, and Prompto was thankful that the room was too dark to see his expression. He didn't know if he could stand seeing Noct in so much pain.
"Yeah?" came a soft reply. His fingers continued to graze the back of the prince's neck, every so often tousling the ends of his soft hair.
"Promise me..." Noct started, but seemed to choke on a sob. Prompto's heart lurched at the sound, his stomach swirling as he wondered what was coming next. "That you'll never put on that ring."
"The Ring of the Lucii? But that's how Ignis saved—"
"I know!" Noct tearfully hollered. "But it's also why he..."
Noct couldn't fight off his emotions any longer, and he sobbed against Prompto's neck, dampening his cold skin with hot tears. Prompto held him close and stared upward again, realizing how painfully ironic it was they were having this conversation in the pitch black. Not being able to see the room around him, nor Noct's expressions... Those were things Ignis would never see again.
"Noct, we're your Crownsguard. Protecting you is what we do, no matter the cost," Prompto told him, gently. He felt Noct pull his head up away from him, and he was sure he was earning a glare in that moment.
"So, you won't promise?" Noct asked, voice low and dark, slightly breathless after all the sobbing.
"I don't know!" Prompto defended himself. "I can't say for sure when I don't know what situations we might be in. I mean, I'll always try to find another way, but I..."
Noct growled a response, but Prompto found his hand in the darkness, and Noct seemed to succumb to his touch. The prince slipped his fingers between his Crownsguard's, and he lowered his head as more tears emerged with a blink of his eyes.
"I love you, Noct. And I want to keep you safe. We all do."
"But how am I supposed to stay safe if my entire Crownsguard is injured in the process?"
Noctis was satisfied when Prompto didn't have a response to that, and he took it as a small victory for now. At the very least, he would leave Prompto to consider that little fact. He let out a sigh and adjusted himself against Prompto's shoulder. His arm snaked around Prompto's middle, and he released another alcohol-heavy breath as he spoke.
"If these are the stakes, then I'm not sure I want you in the Crownsguard. Any of you." His voice was dark again, but Prompto knew it was only caused by fear. Noct was angry, terrified, and rightly so. He had lost so much so fast—his father, Luna, and almost Ignis. Add another to that list, and Noct might just give up on his journey altogether.
"It's going to be okay, Noct," Prompto whispered, rubbing his arms tenderly as he held him close. He knew it wasn't much, a weak comfort at best, but it quieted Noct's sporadic sobs for now. The future did look bleak, but deep down, Prompto did believe what he was saying. They would adapt, they would get by, and things would someway, somehow, turn out okay.