Content Warning: This story contains a graphic description of a bullet wound and a brief moment of suicide ideation. The latter is only a single, vague sentence, but I'm providing this warning anyway. If that would trigger you in any way, please steer clear (or if you want to continue reading, the sentence begins with "Prompto's fingers twitched-" so just skip to the next one).

Chapter One: Just Stay

Reminders of just how easy it is for life to suddenly be hanging from a thread, by nature, never come when you least expect them.

Prompto had been trudging back to camp alongside the others. It had been a long, tiring day and it was only mid-afternoon. A large pack of Voretooths attacking them was just the icing on that shitty cake. He fell instinctively into battle, but not without very vocal complaints regarding his sore muscles and empty stomach. No one told him off for it, which was a good indicator of everyone's agreement.

The fight had been going well regardless; fast, minimal injuries. Everyone was pushing past exhaustion to get back to the haven as soon as possible and just pack it in early for the day. These were Voretooths; enemies they saw and dealt with nearly every day with little to no issue. So Prompto figured that this would be wrapped up just as simply as always. That was until things went to the worst kind of hell.

He was taking aim at one of the few remaining beasts. It seemed intent on charging an already occupied Ignis, not paying any attention to the guy with a gun. Big mistake. As naturally as breathing, Prompto fired in order to protect him. However, he was too late in noticing the bright blue light that indicated a warp strike forming right in front of his target, directly in the path of the bullet.

It all happened so quickly that Prompto didn't register it right away. Not until he saw the familiar dark figure that had suddenly appeared jerk violently before falling to the ground in a heap.

That was Noctis. He had just shot Noctis.

Heart in his throat, Prompto finished off the Voretooth which had stumbled back a few paces screeching in agony. Noctis had managed to wound it before—before he—

"Noct!" he cried, sprinting towards the fallen form. Don't be dead. Gods, don't be dead.

The prince was lying on his side, pale and breathing raggedly. Not dead, but…

Prompto fell to his knees beside him, landing in a puddle of something warm, wet and sticky; there was already so much blood. The bullet had gone straight through the right side of Noctis' chest, leaving a nasty exit wound that pumped out dark red from between the prince's shaking fingers. He was afraid to touch him, knowing full well that he had done this and didn't want to make things worse.

Noctis looked up at him, any other expression masked by a grimace of pain—no accusatory glare or shock of betrayal. Just pure suffering.

"Prom—," he whimpered as an alarming amount of blood flowed from his mouth.

Fast, heavy steps approached them and Prompto hardly registered it until Gladio was practically throwing himself down at Noctis' side. The Shield's hands were gentle as he flipped the prince onto his back, contrary to his frantic demeanor.

"Fuck," he cried hoarsely at the sight of the horrific wound. Immediately, he was stripping off his shirt and pressing it to the gory mess, looking positively shattered when Noctis screamed as he did it. "Shh, shh. Just breathe, Noct. Just keep breathing."

Noctis tried; he really did. But the bullet had at least grazed his lung if it hadn't gone directly through it. His lips were turning blue and the flow of blood from them was frequent. Prompto felt himself somehow pale even further as Gladio's shirt started soaking through.

Ignis joined them with unbridled terror on his face. He put his hand over Gladio's to help in applying pressure.

"Does anyone have any curatives on them?" he asked, panic-stricken. "Potions, elixirs, anything?"

He was met with silence and two shaking heads.

"Damn it all!"

Noctis coughed violently, splattering blood across both Gladio and Ignis' faces. Gladio winced, his mouth quivering slightly as Ignis simply reached out with shaking hands to turn Noctis' head to the side. The prince spat up more blood into the grass.

"We've got extra stores back at the camp. I hadn't the chance to organize them into the Armiger yet," Ignis said, running his hand through Noctis hair. "That's his only hope now."

"Go, then. I've got him," Gladio said. He looked down at Noctis who was worryingly growing weaker. Swallowing thickly, he added, "Grab a phoenix down just to be sure...at this rate—."

Ignis released a shaking breath and nodded. He only hesitated a moment to press a kiss to Noctis' forehead.

"Hold on, love. Stay with us," he said.

He took off down the hill and into the trees. Even at a dead run, the haven was a good five minutes away and then the same length back. Could Noctis even last that long?

Prompto was about ready to vomit. He was watching one of the men he loved practically drowning in his own blood and it was all his fault. A part of him always knew he should never have been here in the first place and this settled it. Noctis was dying because Prompto couldn't fucking pay attention to where he was for one godsdamn second.

He was expecting Gladio to lay into him at any moment, but the Shield's focus was completely on their injured boyfriend. One hand, saturated with blood, was still futilely pressed to the wound as the other lay in Noctis' hair.

"Hey, look at me," he was saying. "Eyes on me, babe. Just keep those pretty blues on me, okay? I've got you. Iggy's gonna come back and fix you right up. Eyes on me."

Prompto dared to shift closer, kneeling at Noctis' shoulder. His hands stayed limp at his sides as he still refused to touch him. He couldn't bring himself to; he didn't even deserve that right after what he had done.

Noctis' eyes were trained on Gladio as instructed. What breath he could manage rattled in his destroyed chest. He kept coughing blood and coating his entire chin with it. His skin was nearly white, the red now in stark contrast.

Unable to handle the look of Noctis' face, Prompto stared numbly at his chest. The image wasn't any better, but the shallow, stuttering rise and fall was almost hypnotic. That was until it slowed to a stop and all that was left was a grim reality slapping him in the face.

Gladio's ramblings paused. "Noct?"

"H-he's gone," Prompto stammered, disbelieving. It was all so unreal that his body couldn't conjure tears. He felt removed like this was happening to someone else or that he was trapped in the red haze of a nightmare. He could wake up any minute now and the sickening smell of blood would fade away.

"No. No, no,no," Gladio denied, shaking his head. He tapped Noctis' face. "Breathe, dammit. Come on, Noct. Breathe. Your eyes are open. You're not—."

A noise not unlike a wounded animal tore itself from him as the realization dawned. He gathered Noctis in his arms, keeping his hand pressed to the exit wound—like that would help anymore. The prince laid there lifelessly, his half-lidded eyes dull and unseeing.

Looking at them, Prompto finally felt his own eyes burn with tears. This was real. It was happening. He clamped his hand tight over his mouth, but it did nothing beyond muffling him slightly as he wept.

Gladio held Noctis tightly to him, rocking them slowly. He was speaking in litanies again as if the prince could still hear him.

"I've got you. It's okay; I've got you. Iggy's coming. He'll be here. Please don't go too far. Stay. Just stay."

His voice petered out, but he kept whispering 'Just stay' every so often. Even as his body became wracked with sobs and his tears streamed into Noctis' hair.

Prompto had never seen him cry before. The blond had teased him in the past for getting misty-eyed over one of his dumb romance books. And right after Insomnia fell, he noticed Gladio returning from his morning runs looking a little red around the eyes. But never this. Never these full-on, heartbroken tears that clawed their way out of him and left him raw and bare to the world.

Minutes later, Ignis crashed back onto the scene, disheveled and gasping for air. He took in the state of his partners and pieced together what had happened in an instant.

"No," he breathed as he dropped next to them. He took Noctis' wrist in his hand, his face taking on a disbelieving, far-away look. "Oh, Noct…how long?"

Gladio shuddered. "Four minutes."

"It's within the threshold," Ignis said, a daring hopefulness in his voice. He reached into his coat and pulling out the life-giving phoenix feather. "He still has a chance."

He didn't waste another moment, curling Noctis' greying fingers around the golden plume and guiding it over his bloody chest. There was a cracking sound and a burst of light as healing flames danced their way over Noctis' body. The wound knitted itself mostly closed, the brunt of it being healed. But for a few seconds, nothing else happened.

"Please," Ignis urged, bringing Noctis' pale hand up against his cheek. "Please come back to us, Noct."

Prompto's fingers twitched around his gun because he knew what he would do if this didn't work. But someone up there was definitely looking out for them. Noctis pulled in a long, ragged breath.

He coughed, dislodging the remaining blood in his throat. It sounded painful, but in the end, he was lying awake and breathing heavily in Gladio's arms.

"Wha—ow," he gasped, wincing and clutching a hand to his wound. It was less a mass of torn, blown-out flesh now and more like a shallow gouge in his skin.

Jumping into action, Ignis cracked a standard potion over him which swiftly dealt with the rest of the damage. If not for all the blood and the small scar left behind, it would have looked like nothing happened.

For a moment, no one said anything. As if they were afraid to break some spell that was keeping Noctis with them. But he stayed. He looked exhausted and unsurprisingly anemic but he was there, whole and alive.

Prompto slumped and tipped his head back, murmuring his thanks to no one in particular—to whoever was listening.

Gladio choked on a sob and pulled Noctis into a hug that was somehow equal parts intense and careful. A feat that only the large man could pull off. The whiplash between two emotional extremes left him shaking. He was holding onto the prince as if doing so was the only thing keeping him from shattering completely.

Noctis' pale hand found its place at the juncture of Gladio's shoulder and neck. His thumb weakly stroked the side of his throat; a reassurance that he was there. He coughed a little from where his head was sheltered under his Shield's chin.

Very gently, Ignis grasped at Noctis and pressed lightly against Gladio's chest.

"Let him breathe, dear," he said, sounding thin.

Gladio didn't argue and he placed an achingly soft kiss in Noctis' hair before lowering him down into his lap. He continued to cradle the prince's head in the crook of his elbow. Nothing in the world would make him let go just yet.

Ignis inspected Noctis' new—very permanent—scar, turning him carefully to see the matching one on his back from the entrance wound. Both were lightly-colored, puckered, and painful-looking given their freshness. But the wounds were clearly healed and that was all that mattered. He sighed, taking out a handkerchief and wiping the streaks of blood from Noctis' face.

"Are you in any pain, Noct?" he asked, failing to sound totally calm.

Noctis was silent for a moment, just breathing. And when he spoke, it was probably the most beautiful thing Prompto had ever heard.

"N-not really…kinda sore, but…I'll live. Tired more than anything," he said. He looked up into Ignis' fearful, blood-splattered face. "M'sorry."

"Don't you dare," Ignis sputtered, shaking his head. He leaned in and kissed the side of Noctis' nose. "Don't you dare. This was not your fault."

It was Prompto's, and he was waiting for that bomb to drop. Any minute now, the flurry of anger would hit. They would finally realize what a mistake it was to have let him into their lives. Ignis and Gladio would gather Noctis up and leave Prompto alone in the middle of the woods, and the prince wouldn't argue against it. He had lost them; he knew it and he deserved it. But he didn't know what he would do without them. They were his heart—his life. The loss was already a painful, empty pit in his chest.

As he sat there trembling in fear, he caught Noctis looking at him with a complicated expression. It almost looked like he wanted to say something, but his eyes slid closed.

Before anyone could panic, Ignis said, "It's alright; he's sleeping."

Gladio scrubbed his hand over his eyes. "We need to get going. All this…this blood is gonna start attracting things."

They all stood. Gladio held Noctis in his arms like he was cracked porcelain as they started on their way. Ignis led them, daggers in hand as he watched out for any threats and stole glances back at the sleeping prince.

Prompto followed for the time being, surprised that no one had told him not to. He took up the rear, doing his best not to fuck up protecting everyone's back. They couldn't afford another major injury.

The rest of the walk was thankfully uneventful and the haven soon came into view. Safely upon the rock, Gladio steered himself towards the tent, eager to lay Noctis down somewhere comfortable. The two disappeared from sight.

While Ignis followed them inside, Prompto froze. He wanted to go in and be with them. More than anything. But it was like there was an invisible barrier keeping him outside. He couldn't move. Couldn't reach them.

He had nearly killed Noctis. No; he had killed him. Noctis had been dead for four minutes because of him. Even if he was allowed to stay for some reason, would it happen again? If he had made that mistake once then he could do it again, and any one of them could be left bleeding and dead on the ground. Phoenix downs wouldn't always be an option. He was going to get someone killed again; he was sure of it.

In a split-second, panicked decision, Prompto turned and bolted down off the haven and into the woods. He didn't know where he was going. Just away. It was for the best.

Whoops, a cliffy! The next chapter is mostly done, but I'm also writing other things at the same time. I'm going to aim for Wednesday (April 8th) to get it out.

Thanks for reading~!

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