Ignis watched as a few officers spoke with the members of the Crownsguard, who had just arrived on scene. He locked eyes with Cor Leonis as one of the policemen gestured their way. Ignis shook his head a little, signifying that they were not ready to be questioned.
In the backseat, Prompto shifted, dropping his feet to the floorboards with a groan. "Do you think Noct will forgive me?" His voice was strained and thick with emotion.
Ignis turned fully to him again; he felt it was important that Prompto understand his next words. "There is nothing for him to forgive. You have done absolutely nothing wrong."
This was not satisfactory to the younger boy. "I've dragged him into my stupid mess. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted him to know; and now look at all the problems I've caused! He's hurt, Gladio's hurt. All because I wasn't good enough to keep him away from all my stupid stuff."
"Prompto, you know that's not true. None of this was your fault—"
The blonde turned sharply to him. "Of course it is, what are you talking about? It's always my fault. I'm just a fuck-up, Iggy." He laughed humorlessly. "You really shoulda figured it out before, you know? Really derelict in your duties on that one."
"That is enough, Prompto! I won't listen to you disparage yourself any longer." He quelled his flare of anger when the younger boy flinched at his raised tone. He started again, folding some calmness back into his voice. "What I should have figured out earlier was what you have been going through. I feel as if I've been blind to your needs, and for that I apologize."
Prompto offered up half a smile. "I'm not your job, Iggy."
"You may not be my job, Prompto, but you are my friend. I—"
But he was interrupted by a sudden repeated percussion punctuated with sharp raps. Prompto squeaked as he threw himself to the side and back and Ignis nearly jumped out of his skin. The source of the noise was Mrs. Argentum, who was beating the flat of her hand against the window, her wedding ring striking the glass.
"You get out here right now young man! You get out here and tell the police the truth! They're talking about arresting your father for six sake, even after that behemoth nearly killed him! This is all your fault, you little Niff piece of shit." She began beating on the window again, face twisted with fury.
Prompto bit his lip and reached for the handle on the door, but Ignis lunged over the seat to grip his wrist, stopping him. The adviser ignored the twisting in his stomach as the blond began to panic; torn between the steel will of his friend, and the rage of his mother.
"Shhh shhh…" Ignis soothed, rubbing the tender flesh of the boy's wrist with his thumb. "…stay in the car, everything is going to be fine, I'll get this straightened out."
But the Astrals must have smiled upon him, for another officer ambled up, calling out to Mrs. Argentum to come with him. Behind them, Gladiolus lumbered from the back of the police car, still holding the bloodied cloth to his face. The female officer handed him a few papers, and he bowed to her before striding over to the ambulance doors, which opened for him as he approached.
As the officer led Mrs. Argentum towards the house, she wrenched out of his grip, turning back towards the car. "No one wanted you, you know!" She locked eyes with Prompto as she screamed loud enough for him to hear through the glass. Loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear, really. "We should have never felt sorry for you. We should have left you in the orphanage to rot!"
Ignis' throat tightened as he realized that he was still holding Prompto's wrist. He let it go, swallowing hard as the younger boy slid back into his seat, watching his mother pull out another cigarette and light it as she once again began to pace on the porch.
"She's probably right."
He said it so quietly that Ignis was sure the words were not meant for him to hear. It was just as well; he didn't know what to say to them, anyway.
Seven months ago at Noctis' apartment, a mundane dinner goes awry and Ignis chalks up Prompto's behavior to his usual dramatics.
"Oh man, Iggster! You are the literal best!"
Ignis rolled his eyes at the antics of the freckled youth as he sat a plate of Peppery Daggerquill Rice in front of Prompto. Across from him, Noctis was already picking out the peppers and onions. Once Ignis' back was turned, the adviser knew that the blond would be sliding his plate over so that Noctis could steal some of his meat and replace it with vegetables.
He chose to ignore this action however, and gave them time to make the exchange before he returned to the table with his own plate. They spoke amiably, mostly about school. Noctis was fishing to get Ignis to help them with an upcoming chemistry test, while Prompto scarfed down his food. He finished much earlier than the other two and pushed his plate away, smiling at the front Ignis put on about how he was not going to help them (even though they all knew he would).
Ignis winked over at Prompto as Noctis continued to badger him. "I'll help you both study for your test if you put dinner away and wash the dishes."
Noctis' face fell, but he finally nodded. "Ok—"
"All the dishes. No 'soaking' the pans for three days."
"Uurrgh, alright." Noctis scowled at the older teen and took an angry bite of his food.
"I can help! Lemme just grab theeese—" Prompto popped up, grabbing his plate and cup. "And I can wash those and put the food away—"
Ignis laughed a little, nodding along. "Alright, but that's it. Noctis can do the rest."
Prompto rattled his dishes throwing Ignis a salute as he whirled around and headed into the kitchen.
Ignis and Noctis exchanged amused glances and continued to eat in companionable silence. Ignis finished soon after and stretched, running his hands through his hair—mussing and straightening in two quick swipes. "While you two are cleaning up, I'll read over the chapters in your book to reacquaint myself with—"
A pop like a gunshot ripped through the air quickly, startling the two at the table. "Shit!" Prompto's panicked voice issued from the kitchen.
Ignis lept to his feet while Noctis kind of just leaned to the side and hollered "you ok?" before shoving another bite of food in his mouth.
"…yeaahhh." Prompto called back as Ignis rounded the corner into the kitchen proper.
The blond was standing near the open stove door, broken glass and orange cake spattered across the cabinets and floor. Ignis quickly took in the scene, deducing that Prompto must have used a wet cloth to remove the hot glass dish from the oven, causing it to explode.
"I'm really sorry, Iggy! I..the uh, the timer went off, and it smelled so good! And you were talking to Noct and so I thought that maybe I should just pull it out of the oven—"
He trailed off and shrunk against the counter as the adviser strode forward, expression impassive. Wordlessly, Ignis reached towards his face, frowning as the blonde shut his eyes and whimpered. "Please don't be mad."
But his fingers were gentle as he grasped Prompto's chin and turned his head more to the light. A thin trail of blood oozed down from under his right eye from where he was struck by an errant shard of glass. More shallow lacerations adorned hands and arms. "You're hurt."
Prompto opened first one eye, then the other, before quickly withdrawing from the adviser's grip. "It—it's ok! Nothing a few band-aids won't fix!"
Ignis frowned at him, pulling his hand closer. "Like these?" He asked, pointed to the several-days-old band aids that adorned his fingers already.
"Yeah," Prompto chuckled nervously, waving off Ignis' attempts at assistance. "I'm a total pro; I'm always hurting myself." He grinned up at the adviser as he crouched down and attempted to pick up the still-hot glass. "I'll just get this cleaned up—"
Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "I think you've done quite enough. Please, just go take care of those cuts. I'll clean up in here." Ignis began collecting the items he would need, making a shooing motion at the young blonde, who quickly scampered away in the direction of the bathroom. Ignis shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh as he grabbed the trashcan and got to work.
Three weeks prior to this incident found Prompto sitting in the straight back chair his father had dragged into the middle of the kitchen. His mother was still in Altissia, not that she'd be of any help at this point. After all, it was the boy's own fault.
"Exactly how stupid are you?!"
The large man waved a plate under Prompto's nose, coming dangerously close to clipping him with it. Again.
"I'm sorry, dad. I must have been
in a hurry…"
"I must have been in a hurry." His father mimicked, face twisting in derision. "Too much of a fucking hurry to wash a dish the right way? There's still cheese stuck to it!" Mr. Argentum threw the plate to the floor, shattering it.
"Sorry." Prompto squeaked out again, staring at the broken glass.
"That's all you ever have to say for yourself, isn't it, boy?" His father sneered. He reached into the dry rack and began picking up dishes randomly, throwing them in the general direction of Prompto, who quickly covered his head as he was pelted with cups and cutlery. "I'm sorry," his father mimicked each time he threw a new object. When he was finally out of ammunition, he shoved Prompto down into the mess of glass and silverware.
"Clean it up right this time." He shouted, giving the boy a hard kick to the rear, sending him sprawling atop the mess.
Swallowing hard, Prompto got to work picking up the glass, doing his best (but mostly failing) to avoid cutting his fingers. His father stood behind him, eyes shining balefully in the bright kitchen light. "You should be more grateful," he grumbled at Prompto's back. "I could easily drop you off in the Niff district and never think of you again. Would you like that?"
Without looking back, Prompto vigorously shook his head. "No, sir."
His father snorted and shuffled about, walking over to the refrigerator and pulling out a beer. He leaned against the counter across from Prompto now, so that his shoes were in the boy's field of vision as he cleaned.
"Do we need to take another ride down there? Let you see first-hand all those freckly blondes and red-heads gettin' into cars and leading men down dark alleys? Plenty of them out there young as you."
Prompto froze, clenching a shard of a broken plate hard enough to draw blood. He remembered well the trip they'd taken to the Niff district a few years back. It was after one of the first times his father had physically hurt him. After things had calmed down, his parents had strapped him into the car and driven downtown.
There he'd seen a lot more people who looked like him than he'd ever seen in one place prior to that night. And they frightened him. Most of them were gaunt and dirty, dotting the side of the roads holding signs explaining the various things they'd do for money or food; some were more savory than others. At any rate, he'd gotten the picture fast. No matter what his parents did to him, it was infinitely more acceptable than being one of these poor, forgotten people.
When Prompto—lost in his memories as he was—didn't answer, the elder Argentum chugged half the beer and set it upon the counter. He closed the small gap between them, now standing with his feet planted firmly on either side of the pile of glass the freckled youth was collecting.
"It's best that you answer me, boy. Look at me when I'm talking to you."
Prompto sat back on his calves, doing his best to keep tears from rolling down his cheeks. "Please, Dad, just— I'm so so sorry about the dishes, it'll never happen again."
Mr. Argentum hauled off as if he was going to strike his son, but stopped mere inches from making contact. He patted the boy's face instead, something dark and angry in his eyes. "You're just an unwanted piece of Niff garbage, Prompto. Your mother wanted a baby so badly; you're lucky she felt sorry for you, or you'd be just like those other Niff whores." As he spoke, his fingers crawled their way into Prompto's hair, finally grasping on tightly to the short hairs a the back of his head. "If it was my choice, we never would have picked you. I knew you'd be nothing but trouble."
He increased his grip, lifting as he did. Prompto scrabbled at the hand in his hair, whimpering as he was forced to stand.
"You think you're safe now that you're sucking the prince's dick?"
Through the pain, Prompto managed to send his father a confused expression. "Wha…? Dad, no, it's not like that—"
The older man violently shook Prompto's head, nearly making him lose his balance. "Don't fucking lie to me, boy! What else could he possibly want from you? You're just a stupid, clumsy loser."
Prompto's heart fell at those words. They echoed his own thoughts, minus the gross sexual allusions; he knew (he fucking hoped to the astrals) that Noctis would never demand him to do anything he didn't want.
He was saved from having to answer, however, as his father tossed him down on the floor again. "Clean this shit up and then get up to you room. I'll be up later."
Prompto quickly finished cleaning up the mess and retreated to his room. True to his word, his father came up a little while later to give him his proper punishment. Laying there after he left, back stinging from the newly acquired welts, the blonde did his best to hold it together.
But it was getting harder.