Hello all! First, I do apologize for the long wait. I seem to have forgotten you guys for a while; this one has been up on AO3 for a hot minute. Gosh, i do so apologize. I'll post the next chapter in a day or two. Below is the link (ok prolly not a link, i can never figure out how to do that) to the kaciart art that is the inspiration. She's such a wonderful muse. Anywho, I hope you enjoy!
Tumblr: post/169442852008
Once the boy undressed in the ambulance, a female officer came to take photos and catalogue his injuries. Now, Noctis and Prompto—having been reluctantly released by the EMTs—were sitting together on Prompto's worn couch, while Cor stood in front of Mr. Argentum's overturned armchair. The coffee table between them is in shambles and a few broken bottles are scattered in the wreckage—one stained the rusty red of dried blood. There is a tiny cone placed next to it with the number 5 printed on its garish orange surface. Prompto stares at it, his expression unreadable.
"…mpto…?" Noctis' face looms before him, drawn and worried and slightly angry.
The blonde grunted softly in response, not taking his eyes away from the evidence marker. Outside the front door—which stood askew and would likely never shut properly again—Gladiolus and Ignis murmured softly with the female police officer that had taken the shield's statement earlier.
Unable to contain a protracted sigh, Cor stepped to the side so he was directly in the blonde's line of sight before he crouched down. He waited for Prompto to meet his gaze before he spoke. "I know it's been a difficult night, son. I can only imagine what you've been through—what you've probably been going through." He paused, making sure he had Prompto's full attention before he continued.
"I've already spoken with Ignis and Gladiolus, and a few of the witnesses outside. I want to assure you that you are not in trouble, here. I have a pretty good idea of what's happened, but I need you and Noctis to fill me in, okay?"
Prompto bit his lower lip, cringing a little at the pain. The potion that Gladiolus had tricked him into taking earlier had healed some of the more immediate damage, but the injuries from earlier in the day and the week prior were still very much present. Finally, he nodded. "…where should I start?"
Cor stood back up, shaking his lightly cramping legs out as he shuffled away. "Well, the beginning would be ideal."
Prompto chuckled humorlessly. "That would take a while, sir."
Noctis reached over and began to gently rub circles in between Prompto's shoulder blades. "How about you start with Friday?" He prompted, pursing his lips in anticipation of a deflection.
But Prompto only nodded and cleared his throat lightly. "Y-yeah, I guess that's as good a place as any." But he fell silent after uttering the words, his eyes trailing back to the blood stained bottle.
Following the blonde's line of sight, Cor frowned again. "He's okay, you know. Standing right outside the door and everything." He swept a hand towards where the shield still lingered on the stoop.
Prompto let out a stuttering sigh, and Noctis trailed his hand down his back, pulling him into a small side hug before taking his hand. "It's okay, Prom. Everything's going to be fine."
"Yeah." The blonde absently agreed. Then, so quietly only Noctis could hear, he whispered: " I'm sorry."
The prince only squeezed his fingers in reply.
"This…this is all my fault. If only I'd have just—" Prompto let out a choked sob, shaking his head. "I dunno; been stronger? Maybe if I had been a better son—or better at defending myself. Maybe if I hadn't defended myself…?"
Before anyone could interrupt his rambling, Prompto darted his eyes between Cor and Noctis before settling once again in his lap. "Right, so well, uhm Friday..."
Prompto ran up to Noctis after the final bell rang. Though they had several classes together, the last period of the day was the elective hour, and Prompto spent his in Photography and Noctis in Creative Writing. The blonde was anxious, as Noctis had not mentioned their plans to him earlier in the day. Prompto didn't want to appear pushy, because he'd spent the last nine consecutive weekends at the Prince's apartment. This meant he'd successfully avoided a total of three weekends with his parents. His high hopes of making it through number four were dashed, however, when Noctis revealed that he was being forced to spend the weekend at the citadel attending some royal affair or another.
Prompto took the long way home, hoping against hope that his parents would retire early and he wouldn't have to deal with them. He knew the possibility of them going to bed before five PM were slim to none, but he had to have something to hold on to.
But, alas, his father was in his usual position when Prompto entered their small house. The elder Argentum was in his armchair, the coffee table in front of him already covered in various cans and bottles of beer. As he moved about, his elbow jostled a bowl that sat on the arm of his chair, clanging the spoon against the side. The older man didn't even glance up from the news program as Prompto quietly shut the door and removed his shoes and coat.
His mother sauntered in, wine glass in one hand, cigarette in the other. She sneered as she gave Prompto a once over. "You're actually home for once."
The blonde swallowed hard. "H-hey, Mom, Dad. H-how are you?"
His mother rolled her eyes. "Like you give a shit. Where have you been the last few weekends we've been home, anyway? Surely His Royal Bratness can't want you around that much . He's got to be tired of you by now."
His father snorted before Prompto could fumble out an answer. "I told you that he's nothing but a royal cockwarmer. Probably sleeps with the prince's lil peewee in his mouth every night."
Prompto kept his rebutte to himself. There was no use in denying his father's ridiculous allegations; he would continue believing in whatever he wanted. Besides, Prompto wanted to get out of this with as few new bruises as possible.
His mother rolled her eyes and perched in her usual armchair, rummaging through her needlework basket as she continued to talk absently to her son. "Yes, well, whatever you've been up to, I'm glad you're home now. Clean up the mess in the kitchen, will you?"
Prompto held back a put-upon sigh. "Yes, ma'am." He shuffled to the kitchen, swinging by his father's chair and scooping up the dirtied bowl.
Before he could slink away, his father caught his wrist, squeezing it tightly. The older man's eyes were already red and dewy from drinking, and Prompto could read the bad night ahead in their cloudy depths. "We're going to have a conversation, later." He squeezed Prompto's wrist hard enough for the bones to shift in his grip before letting the boy go.
"Y-yes sir." Prompto hurried away, not taking another breath until he'd ducked into the kitchen. What could his father possibly want? Prompto had been doing well in school, so they can't be mad at him about grades or absences…he rolled his eyes to himself and sighed. Knowing his father, it could be anything or nothing; probably just another excuse to take out his frustrations.
He quickly set to work cleaning up the massive mess his mother had left for him, many of the dishes were obviously from this morning when they'd arrived home after he left for school. He scraped the dried, slightly burned eggs that were stuck to the non-stick pan into the trash and set it on top of the cutting board. The pot in which she'd prepared green curry soup was still on the stovetop, which was set to "low". Heaving a large, but nearly silent sigh, he pulled it off the burner and inspected the over-done sludge. There wasn't enough left to consider a meal by any means, but if he made a sandwich, too—
He glanced to the pantry and nearly dropped the pot in shock. He fumbled it back into his grip at the last second before he sat it down with shaky fingers.
A newly installed hasp complete with heavy-duty padlock now held the pantry door closed.
" What in the actual fuck? " He whispered, creeping over to it and giving it a cursory tug.
A quick glance to the refrigerator revealed a similar set-up: more locks gleaming mockingly in the harsh kitchen light.
He wanted to rage, to scream, to cry— how dare they? His parents had always treated him like a burden, and sure these last few years it had gotten more and more rough, but he didn't think they'd sink so low as to starve him.
He let the emotions run through him for a few moments before locking them away. It would not be safe to express them, now. Instead, he quickly scooped up the pot with the slowly cooling remains of their dinner and ate what little of it was left. He regretted throwing out the dried egg concoction, but it was too late now.
There was no way he was going to be able to live like this. He had to get out of there. Tonight .
Luckily, Prompto had been anticipating this for some time. Well, not this , but he knew there'd be a day when he would have to leave. He was just hoping it would be closer to when he'd be getting out of high school so he could easily transition into a job and small apartment.
He supposed that's what he got for making plans. The Six certainly seemed to be laughing at him at any rate.
His parents allotted him a certain amount to do the shopping and keep the bills in order, but they never kept track of the receipts themselves. Though they had budgeted him pretty tightly, he did them one better and was able to put away a small amount of money each week. It wasn't much, but it would be enough to get him through a few weeks of crashing at Noctis's or at the local shelter.
He just needed to get his things together and get out without them noticing.
He finished up the dishes as he formulated his plan. Everything he needed was upstairs. He would just have to ride out the rest of the night, and once they went to bed he could easily leave through the front door. They tended to be heavy sleepers.
After he finished up, he drifted over to the door and cleared his throat. "Uhm, it's clean in there. Anything else you guys need before I go and, uhm, do my h-homework?"
He cringed at the hesitation in his tone; a nervous habit he'd picked up these last few years.
"Yeah, come here and watch this news story." His father didn't glance his way as he spoke, eyes instead riveted on the screen where footage from a recent border skirmish was playing. He went to bypass his father to sit on the couch across from him, but the older man snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor next to his chair.
Great, he thought, it's going to be that kind of night. Keeping his face as neutral as possible, Prompto followed his father's wordless directions and settled himself on the floor next to the old worn chair.
The older man sat up, reaching for the remote and turning up the volume as the anchor began to speak. He side-eyed Prompto as he drained the last of the warm backwash from a bottle of beer.
"… the Glaives fought hard today, downing two Imperial Dropships and destroying upwards of one hundred Magitek soldiers. Brigadier General Loqi Tummelt could be heard cursing the name of The Immortal as he retreated back behind enemy lines…"
"See that?" Prompto's father asked, shoving Prompto in the temple with two stiff fingers. "That's your people running away from the Lucians, tails between their legs!" The elder Argentum guffawed and waved the now empty bottle of beer towards the TV. "Buncha bitches, the Niffs. Good-for-nothing cowards, the whole lot of 'em, isn't that right, boy?"
"Yes, sir." Prompto agreed, not looking away from the screen which now showed a looping gif of General Tummelt comically shaking his fist at The Immortal as he jumped on a barely functioning dropship.
His father shoved his head again, but Prompto continued to be stoic. He knew the man was just looking for an excuse to start an altercation. When the physical prompts did not get the desired reaction, the elder Argentum resorted to insults. "Lookit, that bitch there even looks kind of like you. Wouldn't be surprised if he's some relation. I bet your real mom was a whore, slutting it up for anyone who would have her. Would explain why you so readily cozied up to the Prince; whoring just runs in your blood."
Prompto swallowed hard around the steadily growing lump in his throat. He would not let his father provoke him.
But, he didn't need to. Suddenly, his hair gripped in a tight fist, Prompto was lifted a few inches. His father jerked him around painfully until they could stare eye-to-eye, the blonde's body twisted awkwardly against the arm of the chair. "You should be more grateful, you little shit. Every day I watch the news, more bullshit from the war comes in. Your people are out there murdering Lucians - killing and maiming decent, hardworking people. Your mother's brother lost his life to some fucker who looked just like you . And here we are, saddled with you and all your bullshit baggage that comes along for the free fucking ride.
"You know how many promotions I've missed out on because I brought a fucking Niff into my home?" He gripped the boy's hair tighter, pulling Prompto close so their faces were now only inches apart. No longer able to contain himself, the blonde began scrabbling at his father's hand, whimpering to be let go. "I'm a fucking punchline around the office, thanks to you."
"Dad, please —" Prompto coughed out, his neck held in such a position that it was tough to get breath through.
Through some miracle of mercy, his father listened to his plea, shoving him away, leaving him to gasp and sputter into the floor.
"… will our efforts be enough to finally beat back the Niffs and protect all the citizens of Lucis? Or, are the rumors true? Has the king lost sight of his moral obligation, abandoning his most vulnerable subjects to whatever Niflheim and the daemon hordes have in store?"
Mr. Argentum grumbled to himself as the stern-looking anchor was replaced by a blitzball clip. He rose to his feet, stumbling ever so slightly before stomping into the kitchen. There was a clanking followed by a muttered curse and then a dark chuckle. "Oh yeah." His shadow haunted the doorway to the living room once more as he smirked down at his child.
"Did you see the improvements? T'swhat my dad said his dad did when things were tight, way back when. Said it was the best way to keep everyone in line."
Prompto bit his lip, saying nothing.
"It'll help you from getting chunky again, too. Don't want your fat-ass to repulse the prince, now do we? How else is he going to be your meal ticket?"
"It's not even like that." Prompto whispered between clenched teeth.
The grin that spread across his father's face was nothing less than satisfied. It was a strange contrast with the storm brewing in his dark eyes. "You got something to say to me, boy?"
Prompto got shakily to his feet, driven by some unknown fury that burst up from his belly, spewing words he'd never be able to take back. "I hate you. I hateboth of you." He spat, eyes roving wildly between his parents. "Noctis is the only person who has ever cared about me, and I don't have to suck his dick to get his love, like you seem to think!"
He stepped out from beside the armchair—swearing to himself as he did that he'd never kneel by it again. He'd never kneel for anyone again.
His father laughed. "What, do you think you're a man, now?
"More of a man than you!" Prompto raged, clenching his fists as he strode boldly forward. He stopped a few feet from where his father stood, slack-jawed and a little impressed.
"Why did you even adopt me, huh? What was the point if all you were going to do was hurt and…and demean and fucking leave ?" He swiped at his face, flicking off a stray angry tear. "You never loved me. You never even tried." Prompto stood there, his chest heaving and violet eyes shimmering with emotion.
…
… … …
… …
It was not until later that night that he got the answer to his questions. After his outburst, things decidedly took a turn for the worst, and when he woke up—aching and bruised—he had trouble remembering the sequence of events or how he ended up lying in the middle of his bedroom floor.
He groaned, knowing he was in no condition to make an escape. He gingerly picked himself up and got into bed. Just as he was settled in the least painful position he could manage, the door creaked open, revealing the shadowed form of his mother silhouetted against the bright light of the hall.
She slunk her way into the room, swaying back and forth as she closed the door behind her. She smiled at him in the half-light, her lips wobbly and eyes unfocused.
When she spoke, her breath reeked of the wine she practically lived on. "I tried, you know." Her tone was low and more than a little sad. She pushed herself off the door and sauntered over to his desk, nearly falling into the chair. Instead of adjusting it, she wrenched her body into an odd angle so she could better face him. "I'm a terrible mom."
He snorted, rolling his eyes and turning away from her. "That much is obvious."
She hummed and began stroking her hand along the back of the chair. "Our marriage wasn't doing well, back then. And we tried so hard for so long to have a baby of our own. But it just wouldn't happen.
"We fought constantly; I think we were growing to resent one another." She paused, finally noticing the awkward position of her spine. She pushed the chair out farther and readjusted her posture. She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one before starting again. "So, we thought we could fix it by adopting."
Prompto rolled over enough to face her. "What, so you could have someone small and defenseless to take your frustrations out on?"
She snorted and took a long drag from her cigarette, flicking ash onto the carpet. "No, of course not. We thought that having a child would somehow make us closer…make us grow up, I guess."
Prompto's awareness was starting to waver, along with the room around him. His mother's low voice droned on in the background, working as white noise as he started to drift.
"He wasn't quite so terrible when we were young, you know. He was always a drinker—got that from his own father, I guess. I'd heard tales, anyway…"
She took a long drag from her cigarette, hissing a little when she let out the smoke. "I didn't know how bad he had it against your kind. If I did, I might not have…" she shakes her head and chuckles low. As Prompto allows his head to loll in her direction, he caught a few tears rolling down her cheeks.
She saw him looking, though, and was quick to swipe them away in a huff. "I guess I'm not much better, really. I hate you sometimes, you know. Like, a deep, visceral hate. " She glared at him, now, but he couldn't bring himself to be afraid. The world around him ran like water, the colors hazed and bleeding and moving just a little too slow.
She stood suddenly, dull trails following her as she swayed gently in the silence. She took another long drag from her cigarette before speaking. "You're lucky, you know. There are a lot of kids a lot worse off. My mom was distant at best, but boy did her boyfriends like to get close. My brother…he was the only one who…the only—"
Prompto barely flinched as her hand darted toward him. She stopped short of striking him and instead ran her thumb lightly along the side of his face, avoiding his split lip. "But that doesn't matter anymore. He's gone now, and all I have is your father and you, and that's not really saying a lot."
She smiled at him, then, and he wasn't sure what she really meant by any of that. Thinking about it hurt, though, so instead he allowed himself to drift into a long and dreamless sleep.
The room around them is silent. At some point during Prompto's recitation, Ignis and Gladiolus had drifted in. Outside, the Crownsguard finally arrived and were currently dismissing the small crowd, and the city police had taken Mrs. Argentum in for questioning and probable arrest. Everyone present allowed the freckled youth to collect himself before pressing onward.
The blonde sniffed, glancing over to his friend. "I guess…I guess I thought I had it, you know? Like, they're gone most of the time, so it was never that much of a big deal. And, I couldn't risk having to go and live in one of those half-way houses in the Niff District. I've seen what some of them have to do to get by, and I just don't wanna end up like that.
"I have a good chance of getting a scholarship, and coming from our school, that's saying something. Especially for a refugee adoptee from the poor side of town. I figured that in some ways I was paying my dues—I mean; I'm really lucky if you think about it."
"What do you mean you're lucky ?!" Noctis scoffed, eyes popping wide in alarm. In the hall where Gladiolus and Ignis stood, an audible curse was uttered, quickly followed by the shuffling of one of them shoving the other into the kitchen.
Prompto shrugged, slowly pulling his hand out of the prince's. "I dunno. I mean, well, I'm obviously a Niff, but I got to grow up in not only Lucis , butInsomnia . This is like the best city in the world to live in if you like freedom, technology, and not getting eaten by daemons. Plus, if I didn't get adopted by the Argentums, it could have been someone worse, or maybe not even at all. I may not have ever met you guys." He glanced up shyly at Noctis, searching for any sign of anger or frustration.
But the raven-haired teen only smiled sadly at his friend. "Prom, you're the most wonderful and positive person I've ever met. I'm so sorry you've gone through such shit in your life, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me most."
Prompto cocked his head at Noctis, one corner of his mouth tugging down in a half-frown. "Uh, dude, I would consider today to probably be the day I needed you most, and you were here without my asking."
But Noctis only shook his head. "No, I should have noticed it before today, but none of the pieces really clicked together. Of course, it doesn't help that I was too dumb to see I was putting a puzzle together in the first place."
Cor, who was now leaning against the wall opposite the front door, cleared his throat to get the boys' attention. "Alright, Kid, what happened after you went to sleep—for lack of a better term—on Friday?"
Prompto shook his head. "I'm not really sure. When I was next fully aware, it was Sunday night, and no one but me was home. I kind of remember hearing some kind of fight or something, and I'm pretty sure Mom came and checked on me a few times, but nothing really concrete.
"When I went downstairs on Sunday night, they were gone. No note or anything. I, uh, couldn't really make it back upstairs under my own power, so I stayed on the couch that night and most of Monday. Tuesday I was a bit more mobile, so I cleaned myself up and was able to get my shit together, and then today…you know, I went to school and was trying to just get back to normal. I'd learned my lesson. But..I guess I wasn't expecting them to come back so soon."
Noctis nodded along. "They were here when we dropped him off. His face—he looked so…" the prince frowned, reaching out and taking Prompto's hand once more. "He looked scared, and I knew he was lying to me about what happened, little bit hit by a car my ass. "
Though there was no real heat to his words, Prompto shrunk back from Noctis ever so slightly.
Cor pushed himself off the wall, facing Noctis. In the hall behind him, Gladiolus and Ignis had made a reappearance, both looking a little pale.
"So tell me what happened after school, Prince Noctis. Walk me through the events that get us here." The marshal's tone was brisk, but gentle.
The raven haired teen nodded, readjusting himself on the couch so that he could better face his friend. "Well, it had been four days since I'd last heard from Prom, and I was getting worried…"