Chapter 2

Nonsense

"Alright, let him sleep."

It was two-thirty in the damn morning and Cor was hunched over his working desk in his messy office, staring at the newly received report in front of him. He had remained at his office to finish up his piling work that was looking more and more like a small mountain, but he didn't think he'd be receiving a report involving the prince in the middle of the night.

Apparently, someone—a boy, the prince's best friend, a certain Prompto Argentum—had been caught red-handed attempting to murder Noctis.

Cor repeated the words in his head. Attempting to murder Noctis.

Ridiculous, he wanted to say. Absurd, even. That kid would never hurt Noctis, let alone kill.

But he knew it was not all that ridiculous or absurd. Anyone was capable of murder. But still.

Cor's grip on the report tightened, the papers crinkling with a quiet rustle.

Did he make a mistake when he cleared the boy—Prompto Argentum, the kid he had rescued from Niflheim sixteen years ago—as safe to be let into the prince's inner circle? Was it a mistake? Despite the kid's origin, Cor was sure he had made the right decision. He was so sure that Prompto was harmless. He had kept a close eye on the boy all these years, after all. He'd never once shown any inclination towards violence, or capabilities to harm anyone, nor was he in apparent contact with the enemy or anyone suspicious. Cor could vouch for that.

Then, why? Why did Prompto try to kill Noctis? Was he really trying to kill Noctis? Was the report even correct?

It didn't make sense that Prompto would want to kill the prince—they were best friends. Brothers, even. Cor knew this so well from the weekly reports he received on the prince's activities. The two boys hung out a lot, spending so much time together both inside and outside of school hours that even a blind man could tell how close they were.

It really didn't make sense—unless Prompto was actually faking it.

If Cor shifted his perspective and looked at the case from an angle where Prompto was befriending Noctis in order to get close to him and gain his trust, and that he was actually someone associated with the Empire or any other enemies, then his attempted murder would make sense.

Cor shook his head, sighing. That was a hypothesis he hoped he wouldn't need to delve into.

Prompto… he was a good kid. Cor could tell that much from the years he'd spent observing the boy as he grew up in Insomnia, from the first impression he got when Prompto had nervously stepped into his office a year and a half ago when he came in to receive his official papers as a person associated with the Crown Prince of Lucis. He had been overjoyed at being able to spend more time with Noctis, his blue eyes so earnest.

But…

Cor closed his eyes as one thought ran rampant in his head.

Prompto Argentum wants Prince Noctis dead.

That didn't sound right at all. It didn't make sense. He knew his personal feelings were clouding his judgement and that he was being bias, but he couldn't believe Prompto would want to kill Noctis for whatever reason. He just… couldn't bring himself to believe it.

He read the report again as if the content might have changed since he last read it two minutes ago. There was something about it that'd been bothering him for a while now.

In the report it was stated that Noctis's apartment was a mess, but according to Gladio that was actually the norm. The prince never really kept his apartment tidy unless Ignis went to visit and decided to clean up the place for him. Cor almost rolled his eyes at Noctis's typical spoilt prince behaviour. Anyway, according to the report, besides the usual mess there didn't seem to be signs of any kind of scuffle between Prompto and Noctis in the living room or anywhere else in the apartment. And that was what Cor thought was strange.

Noctis had been trained to fight and defend himself. His reflexes should've kicked in if he sensed he was in danger. Cor couldn't imagine Noctis not resisting or putting up a fight in the least when Prompto had caught him and placed his wrists in the handcuffs. Surely he could've overpowered Prompto who Cor knew didn't have any experience in any kind of martial arts or the like. But then it was also stated in the report that the prince might not have been in the best of health. And that was another strange thing.

Noctis had slipped into unconsciousness right in the middle of the chaos when Gladio was trying to restrain Prompto. The Citadel doctor was still checking on him so he couldn't yet confirm whether he was drugged or not, but that would be the logical assumption as to why Noctis was in that state. And that wasn't all. Prompto had fainted too, right after Noctis did.

Cor looked up with a start at the light knockings on his door. He glanced at his watch; it was almost three. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Come in."

A grim-looking Gladio appeared in the doorway and stepped into Cor's office.

"Sorry to bother you this late, sir, but I came to report the current situation," Gladio said. Cor gestured for him to sit in the chair before his desk, nodding at him to go on. "I just came back from Noctis's rooms. He's still unconscious but according to the doctor, he's just sleeping."

Cor arched an eyebrow. "Sleeping?"

"Yes, sir. Just sleeping. But a very deep one, looks like. He didn't react at all when the doctor prodded and pinched him a couple of times."

"Was he drugged?"

"The doctor said no. He just fell asleep."

Cor remained silent in his seat, thinking. "What about Argentum? How's he doing in the holding cell?"

Gladio scratched his head, looking a little guilty.

"About that. He was unconscious when we brought him in. The medic who checked on him earlier said he'd wake up after a while, but I just got a report from Crownsguard Razaleigh. He was still unconscious when she went to check on him half an hour ago, and she noticed there was actually a bleeding wound on his head. So they took him to the Crownsguard medical wing. Not sure how that medic could've missed his injury, though."

Cor frowned as his gaze went back to the report. "He was bleeding?"

Gladio shifted in his seat. "Yeah. I guess from when I punched him earlier. His head probably hit a corner or something."

Cor's eyes lingered on the report and found the part where it said Prompto went crashing into the coffee table after Gladio had punched him.

"Right," he said with a heavy sigh, glancing up at Gladio just in time to see him stifle a yawn. "Go get some sleep, Gladio. I don't want to deal with you dropping unconscious next. I'll go see Argentum in the morning and find out what the hell happened."

.o.o.o.

It was seven-forty-seven in the morning and Cor was walking along the hallways of the medical wing of the Crownsguard building. The medical wing was usually a quiet place, hardly any patients occupy the rooms most of the time, the hallways deserted save the occasional nurses and cleaners coming and going. But that was not the case this morning.

Cor turned into the next hallway that would lead him to the room where Prompto was supposedly being treated and held for the time being, and a frown formed on his face when he heard the ruckus coming from the room at the very end of the hallway. He quickened his steps and upon reaching the room, peered into it through the two-way glass window. Crownsguard Razaleigh and a nurse were hovering over a crying Prompto whose wrists were strapped to the bed on either of his side.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to fall in front of the prince! I swear I didn't mean to! I only wanted to talk to him! Please, I know it's my fault for being so fat and heavy but I swear I didn't mean to do anything to him! You have to believe me! Don't kill me, please, I beg you! I don't want to die…"

Prompto stopped begging for his life when the door to his room banged open.

"Razaleigh, who ordered him to be strapped to the bed?" Cor demanded angrily, his eyes round and livid as they regarded the startled Crownsguard. He hadn't meant to burst into the room like a gale, but his body had moved on its own before he could stop himself.

"But sir, it's standard procedure to restrain murder suspects—"

"He did not kill anyone. He's just a kid."

"But sir—"

"Get him free," Cor ordered. "Now."

Razaleigh hesitated for a second, like she was about to protest again before she thought better of it. "Yes, sir," she said instead. She gave the dumbfounded nurse at her side a curt nod.

As she and the nurse worked their hands to undo the straps, Cor stepped closer to the bed, taking in the scared, panicked look on Prompto's crying face.

"Hey. You okay?" he asked, his mellowed tone a stark contrast to his fierce roaring just moments before.

Prompto looked up at him with red, tearful eyes. "You… aren't you… Cor the Immortal? I've seen you on TV before… But why…"

Cor frowned, not at how hard Prompto's voice was trembling, but at how disoriented he was acting. "Yes, I am Cor Leonis, Marshal of the Crownsguard. This is not the first time we've met, Prompto."

Prompto's eyes widened. "What? We've met before? B-but when? I don't remember…"

Cor's frown deepened. "Over a year ago. When I called you to my office after you were cleared as safe to be around the prince."

"Wha—? What are you talking about? Safe to be around the prince? I… I don't understand."

Cor ordered for Razaleigh and the nurse to leave the room before pulling out a stool from a corner and sat next to the bed.

"Prompto," he said calmly, "do you remember what happened last night?"

Prompto blinked, wiping away his tears before pulling his hands close to his chest. "Last night?" He was quiet for a long while as he stared at his hands, rubbing his slightly chaffed wrists. "Last night, after I had dinner alone in the living room, I went to my room. I did my homework for two hours and then… I packed my school bag and… I went to sleep."

"You ate dinner in your living room, and slept in your room… at your house?" Cor repeated, watching the boy carefully.

Prompto looked up at him, his eyes wide and scared like a puppy's.

"Yes, sir… Am I not supposed to eat dinner in my living room? Or sleep in my room?" he asked timidly, his lips trembling a little.

Cor shook his head. "No, nevermind. What about those things you were yelling earlier?"

"I… Please, sir, I didn't mean to catch the prince's attention like that."

"What do you mean?"

"I was only trying to talk to him, sir. I didn't mean to fall like that. I tried giving him my camera, but he grabbed my hand instead. I— He wasn't supposed to touch a filthy commoner's hand, right? And I'm so fat and heavy and filthy and he tried to pull me up. That must've hurt his back, his arms, his knees. Oh dang it, is the prince okay? No, he must not be okay because I'm here in the custody of the Crownsguard. Is that why I'm here? Did I hurt him badly? Oh gods, why did I think I could be friends with the prince? Why—"

Prompto stopped rambling when Cor abruptly raised his hand in a gesture for him to stop talking.

Cor stared and stared at him.

"Look, kid. I have no idea what the hell you're talking about," he said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You were trying to be friends with the prince? Aren't you guys already best friends?"

"Wh-what're you talking about, sir? I still have miles to go and pounds to lose before I'm worthy of even talking to the prince," Prompto said, his gaze falling onto his hands again. "If he would let me talk to him, that is."

Cor kept his eyes on the boy in front of him.

Something was clearly wrong with Prompto. Did he suffer a concussion? Or was he doing it on purpose to get himself off the hook? Was he acting, feigning innocence? Pretending like he didn't remember anything or what the hell was going on in his life? Surely he wasn't that stupid to think something like that would work?

He said he was fat and heavy and still had pounds to lose. No matter how Cor looked at the kid, he would never describe him as fat. He was in fact the very opposite of that. Prompto was a lean, scrawny kid. But he did remember Prompto being a plump little boy when he was in middle school or so before he shed all that excess weight running every damn morning.

Something about how terrified and lost Prompto looked right now made Cor hold himself back from ordering him to cut out the bullshit and spit out the truth. Instead, he went along with the ridiculous things the kid was saying.

"Prompto, what else do you remember about last night?"

"I... I'm sorry, sir, but did something happen?" Prompto bit his lip, lowering his eyes nervously when Cor just continued to stare at him without saying anything, his gaze penetrating. "Um, I remember playing around with my camera after I finished my homework, before I went to sleep…"

"What kind of homework?"

"Huh? Um… art? I had to draw my classmates for Art Appreciation class. We have to make a friendship day card, sir."

Cor frowned again. "Making friendship day cards as homework? Isn't that a bit too juvenile for sixteen-year-olds?"

Prompto stared at Cor incredulously. "Sixteen? Sir, I'm only twelve."

"What? No, you're not. Prompto—"

Cor stopped talking and straightened up when Prompto's eyes were suddenly rolling to the back of his head, his shoulders slumping.

"Hey, kid. Hey, you okay?"

Prompto didn't respond as he continued to sink listlessly into his pillow.

Cor got up, turning around in slight panic and was relieved to see the nurse who was tending Prompto earlier was just hovering by the slightly opened door outside the room. He called for her immediately and stood in silence as he watched the nurse check on Prompto.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked when the nurse was done adjusting Prompto so he was lying comfortably in the bed.

"There's nothing wrong with him, sir. He just fell asleep," the nurse said.

"In the middle of a conversation? But he just woke up. He'd only been awake for less than half an hour, right? Was he given something?"

The nurse checked the patient's chart hooked at the end of Prompto's bed.

"No, sir. He was given a small dose of painkillers last night when his wound was being stitched close, but that's it. He wasn't given anything else after that. He drank some water, slept for a few hours and woke up just now."

"What about concussion?"

"Just a very mild one. He shouldn't be affected much by it." The nurse replaced the chart to the bed. "Sir, I think he's just tired. You should let him sleep a bit more."

Cor looked at the sleeping boy, his freckles suddenly a great contrast against his pallid skin. He had so many questions right now and he wanted answers. But maybe the nurse was right.

"Alright, let him sleep."

.o.o.o.

It was twelve-thirty in the middle of the night and Cor was sitting in his worn-out leather couch in his office, thinking. Thinking about the things that didn't make much sense.

The things Prompto were saying, they didn't make sense at all.

The fact that the kid had been asleep more than he was awake today also didn't make sense. It would if he'd actually been administered drugs by the doctor, but he hadn't.

The whole day he'd be awake for about fifteen, twenty minutes before suddenly falling into a deep sleep that would last at least four hours before he'd be awake again for another fifteen, twenty minutes. And even then, all he would say were the same things he did that morning; how sorry he was trying to be friends with the prince when he was so fat and unworthy, pleading for his life because he thought he was being held by the Crownsguard for daring to think he could be friends with Noctis. And then he would fall into a deep sleep again.

Unless all of that was a stupid act, which Cor doubted, everything just didn't make sense.

And he couldn't possibly ignore the fact that Noctis hadn't woken up at all since he fell unconscious during the incident last night. Sure, the prince was notorious for his preference of sleep over anything else, but not waking up at all for one whole day? What the hell was happening? What was causing all this?

Cor glanced tiredly at the white envelope he'd just received from the forensics lab sitting on the coffee table. He was required to read the report like he didn't already have a hundred others he needed to go through. He sighed before grabbing it and pulling out the papers. If anything, the report only made his head spin even more than it already was. After about an hour of frowning, examining and contemplating, he got his phone out and called up Gladio, not really caring how late it already was.

"Come with me tomorrow morning to the evidence room after I pay Prompto a visit. I'll see you at eight-thirty."

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Next chapter:

Negotiation

"Insomnia has fallen…"