Gladio
They still weren't out of the woods, and Gladio didn't like the situation much. Sure, the big ugly lizard was dead, but they were still stuck in a cavern gods knew how far underground, all four of them injured in some way: Iggy bleeding all over the place, trying to tell them he was fine; Noctis blaming himself, limping, dead tired; Prompto trying to rub the sore spot on his back, shivering despite the fact that he was swaddled in Iggy's coat; and Gladio himself somehow surviving the worst headache of his life.
He and Prompto were supporting Ignis between them as they staggered along by the river, past the corpse of the lizard beast, toward a dark opening in the cavern wall. As they passed by the dead thing, Gladio was struck with rage. He handed off Iggy's arm to Noctis and turned to kick the creature's open, broken mouth. Once, twice, again, roaring his anger.
"He knows it's dead, right?" he heard Prompto murmur behind him.
"Yeah, he's just working off a little steam," Noctis replied quietly.
Gladio kicked it again, right in its ugly snout.
"Gladio," came Ignis's voice, quiet and calm.
Something about Iggy's steadiness was catchy, and Gladio nodded and sighed. "I'm coming." He hurried back to the team, pushing Noctis aside and getting a shoulder under Ignis's arm.
"I can walk-" cough cough "-on my own," the strategist protested.
"Yeah, right. I've seen Noctis catch fish who'd manage walking better than you," Gladio shot back as they continued moving forward, away from the creature that had nearly killed them all.
Specs was quiet. He must have realized Gladio was right. His feet were dragging; he was barely taking steps. They were going to have to do some first aid, Gladio figured, and with limited supplies, far from the haven.
"So…" Prompto ventured cheerfully. "We did pretty good back there. Whaddaya think that thing would be worth if there was a bounty on it?"
"Mmm… Enough to rent us a nice hotel room for weeks," Noctis mused.
"Yeah, I think we deserve that after that battle!" Prompto agreed.
"I'll settle for camp and our tents and our stuff." Gladio adjusted his grip on Ignis, pulling the slighter man closer, taking some of his weight off Prompto.
"I'll cook us a nice meal once we get back," Ignis said, then started coughing again, a horrible, hoarse cough that shuddered through his body.
Gladio and Prompto met eyes over Iggy's head. The little blond guy's eyes were wide and round and scared.
"You know, I might even eat some beans if that's what you're cooking," Noctis said, reaching to pat Ignis on the back. "I'm so hungry, I could eat anything."
"I have a hard time believing that," Gladio muttered, but he knew what Noctis was doing, knew the kid was trying to keep everyone's spirits high, the same thing Ignis was trying to do by denying how badly he was hurt.
Ignis stopped coughing, but his breathing sounded ragged and rough. He stumbled, not able to hide a soft sound of pain, pressing a hand to his stomach.
Gladio shook his head and swore. "We can't keep this up. We don't know how long we've got till we're outta here. We have to stop and rest."
"Nonsense," Ignis panted. "Mmmf." His body tensed, and for a second, he let his head rest against Gladio's shoulder. He quickly jerked himself upright. "We have to get out of this place as soon as we can."
"I'd rather we all get out alive," Gladio countered. He stopped walking, and Ignis was powerless to go on without his support. "We rest here. We've got fresh running water, and there are fish in the stream if we have to eat."
"No beds, though," Noctis protested, but he stopped walking, too, leaning against the wall and yawning.
"Prompto, help me settle him down," Gladio ordered.
Prompto nodded, and together, they lowered Ignis to the ground and leaned him back against the cool cave wall.
"Thank you," Ignis murmured, leaning back his head.
"We need to check your wounds," Gladio insisted.
Ignis sighed, resigned. "Alright."
Gladio unbuttoned Ignis's shirt, his jaw clenching at what it revealed-bruises and blood everywhere. The bruises were spread darkly all over Ignis's torso, and the blood leaked from a long gash across his stomach.
The shield swore. "How have you made it this far, Specs?"
"A little luck, I suppose," Ignis said lightly.
As carefully as he could, Gladio peeled back the blood-sticky shirt from Ignis's body, wanting to punch something when Ignis flinched and grimaced in pain.
"Oh, man," Noctis breathed, hovering nearby. "That looks bad."
"Probably looks worse than it is," Ignis protested, but his words ended in a breathless groan.
"What can we do?" Prompto asked.
"It's-it's the bleeding that's the problem," Ignis answered.
"Yeah, no kidding," Gladio muttered.
"I need… pressure on the wound. If you-Mmm." Iggy closed his eyes, teeth clenching, body going stiff.
"Iggy?" Prompto touched the strategist's shoulder.
"Just rest, Specs. We'll look after you." Gladio pressed a gentle hand on Iggy's other shoulder.
Ignis opened his eyes and looked up at them for a second before closing them again and nodding.
Gladio looked up at Noct. "Jacket lining," he said.
Noctis blinked. "Huh?"
"Jacket lining," Gladio repeated. "We can use it to make bandages."
"Oh! Right!" Noctis shrugged out of his jacket and knelt on the ground, careful of his injured leg. He flipped his jacket inside out and started tearing at the lining.
Prompto immediately followed suit, ripping strips out of the inside of Ignis's jacket.
"A pity," the injured tactician murmured. "They were rather stylish jackets."
"Yeah, well you're more important," Noctis insisted, his voice wavering on the last word. He handed a few long strips of cloth to Gladio, which Gladio quickly used to press against the gash in Ignis's stomach.
Ignis sucked in a sharp breath, body tensing.
"You're gonna be fine, Iggy," Gladio assured him, but he frowned at what he felt under his hands. He slid one hand gently upward and ran it along Iggy's ribcage on the left side.
Ignis gasped and clenched his teeth.
"Aw, man, Iggy. You're really trying to outdo us." Gladio withdrew his hand. "Broken ribs, too?"
"Probably," Ignis admitted.
Gladio stared at the man in sheer admiration. How in the name of the Six had Ignis kept his wits-and strength-about him for this long?
"What do we do about broken ribs?" Prompto spoke up.
"Same thing we do about cuts-wrap 'em up," Gladio told him.
Prompto
The cave was cold. It was even colder without the nice soft jacket lining that had kept him warm for the last couple of hours. But Iggy needed it more than he did.
"I can build us a fire of sorts," Gladio declared, sounding as confident as always. "I can stack us up some rocks, then Noct, you can cast a fire spell over them. They'll be hot for hours."
"We can try it," Noctis said with a shrug.
Prompto sat with Ignis while Gladio and Noct experimented with building their makeshift heater. Ignis's waist was wrapped in bandages, bandages that were already bloody in the middle. He was still awake, somehow, breathing in hoarse pants. He sounded sick.
Impulsively, Prompto reached out and felt his friend's forehead. It was hotter than it should be, and Prompto's stomach twisted.
"How's your back?" Ignis asked him.
Prompto blinked, then rolled with it. It was Iggy being Iggy, everybody's big brother-or mom or dad or fussy grandparent. "It's better. Itching."
"That's good. Means it's healing."
"Yeah." Prompto hoped so. "Maybe you should sleep, Specs. Feels like you have a fever. And you look…" He trailed off, realizing he might sound rude.
"Hmm." Ignis's lips twitched in what was almost a smile. "I can only imagine, based on how I feel."
From somewhere behind Prompto, there was a blast of heat, a yelp from Noctis, and a burst of laughter from Gladio.
"Sounds like they're having fun," Ignis murmured.
"Trying to build a fire," Prompto explained.
"So I gathered."
Prompto glanced over his shoulder to see a smoking, blackened pile of rocks and Noctis backing away from it, hopping on one foot, while Gladio stood akimbo, chuckling.
"Don't worry, Iggy. They've got it covered. We'll be nice and warm tonight."
He turned back to Ignis to see that the other man's eyes were closed behind his glasses.
"Ignis?" Prompto touched Iggy's shoulder. His friend remained still. At least he was breathing… although that sounded awful, all rough and desperate, like Ignis knew he had to breathe, but it was hard and it hurt.
Prompto sighed and rocked back on his heels. He wondered if sleeping would help Ignis heal or if it might somehow make him worse.
"How is he?" Noctis asked, limping back to Prompto's side.
"Not good." Prompto looked up at his friend. "He's got a fever." He shivered. "He doesn't need to be here. He needs to be somewhere safe."
"It's a little safer here now." Noctis nodded over his shoulder. "We got the fire started."
"I heard."
Noctis sat down on the ground beside Prompto, gazing at Ignis. "It's my fault," he said quietly. "The fishing trip was my idea, and I suggested the cave." He swore. "He was hurt defending me."
"And me," Prompto offered. "The first time he was hurt, that is. I froze up." His throat felt suddenly tight, and he swallowed and cleared it. "There was a wasp, like the one that stung me. I was scared, and I froze, and it dragged him off the ground. I shot it, but he fell, and when he fell, another bug jumped him and tried to gut him."
"It's not your fault, Prompto," Noctis said, laying a hand on his shoulder.
Prompto glared at him. "Then it's not yours either, Noct."
"Whoa. Okay. Just trying to-"
"We can't have a pity party," Prompto continued, as annoyed with himself as he was with Noctis. "We have to stay upbeat for Ignis."
Noctis held his gaze steadily. After a moment, he nodded. "Yeah. You're right."
Noctis
For once in his life, the Lucian heir could not sleep. They were taking turns at keeping watch, and it wasn't his turn, it was Gladio's, but he still wasn't sleeping. The floor of the cave was hard, in spite of his tattered jacket bundled under his head, and he was still a little chilly, in spite of the heated rocks that glowed nearby. He couldn't stop thinking about Ignis, and every once in a while, he lifted his head and looked toward the unconscious adviser, just to make sure Iggy was breathing.
"He's still alive," Gladio said when Noctis checked again.
"I know. I just-" Noctis sighed and sat up, running his hands through his hair. He glanced over at Prompto, who was curled up in a pitiful little ball close to the warm rocks. Then he looked at Gladio, who sat against the wall, his sword propped next to him. And finally, his eyes settled on Ignis, who slept fitfully, his jacket draped across him, ostensibly by Prompto.
Noctis clenched his fists and pressed them down on his knees. He wanted to slug himself. He was responsible for these men. They were just as much his responsibility as he was theirs. Every day, they faced danger for him. It was their job… but he knew, deep in his heart, that his safety was more than just a job to them. They weren't just his guards; they were his brothers, in everything but blood.
Ignis grimaced in his sleep, wrapping an arm tightly around his body.
Noctis dug his fingers into his knees, wishing he could take away his friend's pain, his brother's pain.
"Can't we do anything else for him?" he asked, instantly regretting the harshness of his tone. None of this was Gladio's fault.
Gladio was quiet, and Noctis turned to see Gladio holding his head between his hands.
"Gladio?" His voice emerged gentler this time. "You okay?"
"No, I'm not okay," Gladio growled. "My head hurts like a behemoth stepped on it, and Ignis is…"
Don't say dying. He's not. He's just lost some blood. He just has a little fever. So maybe he has a few broken ribs. That's not fatal. He's sleeping. He'll sleep it off.
"... Ignis is hurt and sick, and I can't-" Gladio's voice broke off in a wordless snarl.
Maybe we should take bets on which of us is going to punch something first.
Noctis closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to think what Ignis would tell him to do, what his father would tell him to do. Their advice had often been one and the same. Calming himself, he stood and limped to the stream, carrying his raggedy jacket with him. He tore out the last bit of lining that was left and dipped it in the frigid water, then limped to where Gladio was sitting. He slid down against the wall, wincing as he stretched his injured leg out in front of him.
"Here." He offered the wet rag.
Gladio stared at him, frowning.
"For your head, doofus." Noctis elbowed the larger man.
Gladio rolled his eyes at the insult. "Thanks, wuss." He took the cold, wet rag and pressed it to the knot on his forehead, instantly sighing with relief.
"Better?"
"Better."
At least he could help one of his brothers, Noctis thought.
"You don't have to stay awake all night," Gladio told him, looking sideways at him.
Noctis smiled a little. "Neither do you."
They shared a knowing grin, then looked toward Ignis and Prompto, who still slept.
"Really." Noctis pressed a hand to Gladio's arm. "If you get some sleep, I promise, I will, too. I'll wake Prompto to take his shift." He started to get up.
"Nah, wait." Gladio shook his head. "Give the little guy a few more minutes to sleep."
