"Prompto?" This was the third time Ignis had said his name, but the boy was not responding. He stared out the window where the male officer was loading his mother in the back of a cruiser. She wasn't physically resisting, but Ignis could just make out some of the hateful words she was still screaming towards his car.

"How long has this been going on?" Ignis asked, waving his hand in the direction of Prompto's battered face, new bruises blooming over old.

The boy furrowed his brow, which looked painful as the swelling skin of his left eye was tugged into the expression. He considered his words for long moments before speaking. "For as long as I can remember is the short answer." Prompto leaned back into the seat, looking up at the ceiling of the car.

"And the long?" Ignis asked, his tone conveying his need to know.

Prompto puffed out a breath. "I mean, when I was a kid, it wasn't too bad; there were a few spankings or whatever that probably went maybe too far….but, I mean, that was it! Mostly, they weren't even around, so it wasn't really that big a deal."

He was quiet for a while, and Ignis was afraid he wasn't going to go on. But, with a swipe at a stray tear on his cheek, he continued. "I guess you can see that they didn't make my adoption a secret; pretty much reminded me at any possible turn how much worse I could have it. And I mean, they're right. I've been to the refugee district enough times to know what happens to Niff kids. And, like, I got it back then, you know? Kids don't listen well, and they aren't capable of reason. Don't know there's consequences to their actions. So, hitting works, you know? Like, how else do you learn not to run into the street, or touch the stove, or to knock before you enter a room?"

Ignis' horrified face let Prompto know that there were probably multitudes of other ways to teach children these things. When it looked as if the adviser would speak, the boy hurried on. "It, uh, it didn't get bad bad till a couple of years ago. See, mom and dad both work for this company that has them traveling a lot; putting them up in hotels across Eos and paying for a lot of their expenses. But, right before I started high school, they started traveling less and less. It's still a lot, but instead of being away for months, it's only weeks. Sometimes they work from the offices here, and they'll be home for like a month before they're gone again.

"Dad's, uhm…welllll…he gets stressed out easily." Here the blonde gestured vaguely to his face where his left eye was swollen nearly shut along with a menagerie of other scrapes and abrasions. "Mom's not so bad. She, uhm…she mostly just yells. Sometimes she'll hit me or whatever, but she's not really strong, so it's ok."

"Prompto, that's never—"

"It is! It's fine. Like I said, most of the time, it's my own fault. I know there are consequences to stupid actions. I know what they're like—"

"Prompto, slow down—"

But fear had already swept him away in a flood of anxiety, and he didn't register Ignis's words. "Anything is better than living in a Niff orphanage, don't you get that?!" Prompto's voice was ragged, angry tears streaming down his face. "Hell, I'm old enough now that they'd probably just put me right out on the street. No more hanging with Noct, no more potential Arts scholarship, no more anything."

Prompto gulped in several breaths, staring at his knees. His good eye narrowed as another tear slid down his cheek. "I shoulda known," he whispered almost to himself. "I shoulda known I didn't have a chance. Stupid Prompto. Stupid stupid Prompto."

XVXVXVXVXVXVXVXVXVXVXXV

Four months ago, Ignis is driving the boys back to Noctis's apartment after school. It is the last day before winter break, and they have just received their report cards. They decided to open them together on the way home, and share in their triumph or defeat away from prying eyes.

Ignis glanced at the boys in the backseat as they idled at a red light. Noctis was the first to open his manila envelope, smiling as he examined the green card within.

"Straight A's. Ya proud, Iggy?" He asked, sticking out his tongue at his adviser, who smiled at him as he turned back to the road, starting off again.

"Yes, of course, Your Highness. You worked hard for those grades. And speaking of working hard, how did you do, Prompto? Were you able to bring up your grades?"

The blonde's anxiety was palpable as he giggled nervously. "Oh man, I hope so. I really got my ass handed to me at midterms; pretty sure my dad will kill me if I bring home anything less than a B."

Next to him, Noctis rolled his eyes in sympathy. "Oh, man, tell me about it! If I get less than an A in anything, my dad flips his shit. He's all 'the best tutors' this, and 'the finest schools' that."

Prompto laughed, still avoiding opening his envelope. "Ha, yeah, I can only imagine King Regis giving you 'dad talks' in that regal, commanding voice of his. Like, how bad was it as a kid?" The blond drew himself up a little, forcing a serious expression. "Son, for the good of Insomnia, nay, for the good of Lucis, you must floss." He quickly dissolved into giggles at his own joke, while Noctis stared at him incredulously.

"Dude, that was so on point it's scary."

Prompto finally opened his envelope just a few blocks from his house, his brows drawn together in worry.

Ignis spared them a glance after he pulled into a residential neighborhood. "Don't keep us in suspense. Did you improve?"

"Yeah," Noctis nudged him none too gently. "That comic convention is next weekend. You're not going to get grounded again, are you? It was like two weeks before I saw you outside of class after midterm reports went home."

Prompto frowned down at the green slip in his hand. "Uhm, well, I hope not? I got a lot of A's, but then there's this B in Ancient Lucian History, and a C in Economics. My parents are definitely not going to be happy about that."

Ignis turned down into Prompto's driveway, parking next to an old yellow Studebaker. "I'm sure they can't be too angry with you; your grades have improved greatly. Surely they'll see all the hard work and effort you put into your schoolwork."

Prompto gave him a bright smile. "I'm sure you're right, Iggster."

Ignis nodded to the younger teen, giving him a serious look. "If your parents are hard on you, it's only because they care and want you to do well in life. Too many kids take for granted the lessons their parents try and teach them when they're young."

Prompto swallowed hard and nodded. He gave them both a wan smile before exiting the car, report card clutched tightly in one hand. He waved to them absently as he trudged to the little path that lead to the front entryway.

As Ignis backed down the driveway, the door opened and Mrs. Argentum stepped out, gesturing to Prompto impatiently when he stopped in his tracks. There was something akin to anger, or perhaps aggravation on her face, so Ignis stopped the car and rolled down the window.

"Everything alright, Mrs. Argentum?" He called, glancing to where Noctis was looking out his own window.

The older woman forced a smile. "Yes, thank you! I appreciate you bringing my son home." She closed the distance between herself and Prompto, throwing an arm around his slender shoulders. Without another word, she ushered him inside.

"That was weird." Noctis chimed in from the backseat, already pulling up King's Knight on his phone.

"Yes, indeed it was." Ignis chewed on his bottom lip, staring at the closed door. But, he shook off whatever thoughts were trying to form in his mind and put the car into gear again.

XVXVXVXXVXVXVXVXVXVXV

Prompto's parents were both home the night he got his midterms. He'd received only one A; in his photography elective. The rest had been B's and C's with one damning D and a notice that if his scores were not improved by the end of the quarter, he'd be on academic probation with expulsion not far behind. We join them at the dinner table where Mrs. Argentum is serving up Daggerquil Rice for she and her husband, while Prompto's plate holds a peanut butter and honey sandwich.

"What are we going to do with you?" Mrs. Argentum asked after taking a hefty sip of wine. She glanced across to her husband who was digging into his food noisily, clattering his fork against the plate as he attempted to stab a piece of meat.

Prompto stared down at his sandwich, stomach rumbling at the savory smells wafting across the table. "I dunno, Mom. I'm sorry; I'll do better next time."

His father scoffed, but said nothing.

Mrs. Argentum sneered at Prompto over her next sip of wine. "You need to focus on your grades. Gods know we aren't going to pay for your college." She set down her glass and took up her fork, taking a bite before speaking again. "I think you've been spending too much time with your friends. Maybe you shouldn't see so much of them."

Incredulous, Prompto dropped his sandwich back down on his plate. "What? Mom, no!"

The blond nearly rose out of his seat, but quickly thought better of it when his father shot him a glare. Mr. Argentum stared him down until Prompto looked away.

"I think it's just that he's stupid. Can't keep up." Mr. Argentum leaned back in his chair, his gaze boring into the side of Prompto's head. "Isn't that right, boy?"

Prompto bit his lip and said nothing.

His father snorted at the tiny rebellion. "What are you, deaf as well as stupid? I asked you a question."

Prompto's shoulders slumped and he pushed his plate away. "Yes, sir."

Mr. Argentum's face twisted in smug satisfaction. "Say it."

Prompto sighed audibly, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath. This was, of course, the wrong thing to do.

In a flash, his father had him gripped by the upper arm with one hand and yanked him from his chair, slinging him around and shoving him into the refrigerator. He planted his hands on either side of the boy's shoulders and leaned down till their faces were inches apart. "You got something to say, fucking say it."

Prompto turned his head down, cringing as spittle hit him in the eye. "I'm stupid, ok? I'm…I'm just a dumb Niff."

"Are you patronizing me?" He slapped Prompto hard and raised his hand to do it again when his wife stepped in.

She put a placating hand on his raised arm and gestured to Prompto with her head. "He's got to got to school tomorrow, try not to give him a black eye, yeah?"

Mr. Argentum slowly lowered his hand, nodding. Once she stepped away, he shoved Prompto down to the floor and went back to his seat to finish dinner. When the boy tried to regain his seat, an infuriated glare from the older man had him settling back down to wait.

When his parents were done, his father went into the living room and turned on the TV, and his mother cleared the table, scraping the plates-including Prompto's intact sandwich-into the trash. She lit a cigarette and sat back at the kitchen table, gesturing for the boy to join her.

Once he was settled, she glanced into the living room before speaking in a low voice. "If you'd just do what you're told once in a while, you wouldn't piss him off so much. Use your brain once in a while."

"I wouldn't have gotten such bad grades if he hadn't—"

"Shut up," she hissed, curling her lip up in disgust. "Don't you dare try and blame him because you're a fuck up. Maybe you are stupid. Can't even figure out how to keep from getting your ass kicked. It's not fucking hard, you know. You just need to do what you're told. Make good grades. Keep the fucking house clean." She flicked the butt of her cigarette, letting the ash land on the table. "But, no, you keep making a nuisance of yourself, don't you? I won't always be around to save you, you know."

Incredulous, Prompto couldn't stop the next words coming from his mouth. "You call that 'saving' me?"

Her face screwed up in rage. "The fuck did you just say?!"

Prompto immediately began to panic at her raised voice, waving his hands wildly, trying to get her to stop. "No, Mom, no. I'm sorry, I just—"

But it was too late. A curse from the living room and his father's sudden stomping feet dried up Prompto's mouth even as tears sprang to his eyes.

This was going to be bad.