The second time it happened, Prompto was certain Jason was going to die.
Silence reigned absolute in the hotel room, nothing to break the tense air but the gentle sound of waves lapping at the deck outside and the damp wind filtering through the ajar sliding door. Prompto stared blankly at the newspaper resting crumpled in Noctis' limp hands. He couldn't bring himself to look up at his best bud's face, honestly terrified of what he would see.
"It's all over the news," Ignis said softly, finally disturbing the silence. Prompto gaped at him, eyebrows drawn, stomach sinking. This can't be real right? But Ignis' lips were set in a grim line, one that he only uses in the most serious of circumstances. Ignis is sure.
Noctis didn't respond. So Prompto did for him.
"How?" His voice cracked. His gaze was drawn back to the newspaper, to the image of the destruction torn through Insomnia taken from above. Half of it lay in ruin, huge craters scarring the land clear of life and buildings, livelihoods, shops, homes, schools, everything gone.
Like that flower shop he worked at in high school, the grumpy old owner who lived above it.
Like the arcade he and Noctis frequented every other week.
Like the small house he used to share with his foster parents before he turned eighteen and they left it in his name, but he never even stayed there anymore because he always ended up crashing in Noct's–
Ignis cut off his thoughts before they could physically hurt him, but introduced a whole new type of pain that had Prompto nearly gasping with it. "The peace treaty was a sham. The Emperor betrayed us and attacked the citadel on the eve of the signing...he stole the Crystal. King Regis–"
"No, wait," Noctis gasped. "Don't. Don't say it." He clutched the paper to his chest and folded in on himself, shoulders shaking violently.
"Noct…"
"NO!" Noctis shouted, jumping to his feet and striding towards the window before angrily pacing back. His bare feet slapped the floor and he clenched his hair in his hands, pulling harshly. "This wasn't supposed to happen, he told me–he promised–" His words cut off abruptly and he stopped, swaying dizzily.
The three of them moved at once, but Prompto got to him first, wrapping his arms around the Prince's shoulders. "Whoa there buddy, easy. You've only just–"
"NO!" Noctis denied again, pushing Prompto off of him roughly. Prompto gasped, stumbling back and slamming into the side table, lamp falling off and crashing to the floor, the man falling down after it in a heap.
Prompto hissed, hand burning sharply as it scraped across the fallen glass. He ignored it, though, standing up swiftly only to find Noctis slumped in Gladio's strong arms, the large man's arms around the distressed Prince's chest.
"Calm down," Gladiolus rumbled gently. Noctis only shook his head.
"We don't know that the King is dead," Ignis said softly, but Noctis still flinched. "Only that he is presumed so. In fact, both you and Luna are as well."
Noct's head jerked up at that. "Luna?", he whispered, voice breaking.
"She was at the citadel at the time of the attack," Gladiolus supplied. He carefully withdrew his arms, leaving Noct to stand stock still on his own, gaze locked to the floor.
"So," Noctis said with all the conviction of a man betrayed. "So. Dad knew. He knew it was coming and sent me away."
He strode over to the bedside, wrenching his shoes on with more force than necessary before grabbing his phone and typing rapidly. Bringing to his ear sharply, it didn't so much as click before he was speaking frantically into the mouthpiece. "Cor, thank the gods. What is going on? The news just told me I'm dead, along with dad and Luna–" Muffled words. Then Noctis tensed. Slowly, he turned around and locked eyes with Gladio, tears building and threatening to spill over. Gladiolus met his gaze evenly, mouth drawn into a thin line, before heaving a breath of air and running a hand down his face. "Right." Noctis said, voice trembling. "We'll meet you there." And he hung up abruptly. The phone hit the floor with a clatter.
"What did he say?", Prompto asked hesitantly, not understanding the look passing between Noct and Gladio. "Noct?"
"The king is dead."
Prompto inhaled sharply, eyes stinging at the resignation on Gladiolus' stern features. The king. His king, the man who supported Insomnia with his very life force, protecting them all. The man who raised his best friend, invited a nervous Prompto to the palace for dinner to tell him personally he made the crownsgaurd, laughed at all of his stuttered jokes, called Noctis once a week to make sure he was doing alright and always asked after Noct's friends' health even though he was always so busy he barely got to sleep–
But it wasn't just him. Because if the king was dead, so was his shield.
Gladio's father.
Gladiolus stood stoically, not even a tremble of his hands to give away what he must be feeling. Prompto hadn't known Clarus very well, but he could only imagine what Gladio must be going through. What Noctis must be going through. Prompto had always envied them for their familial connections, never having a father figure himself, not really. Hell, even Ignis had an uncle at the palace he would never see again. But right now, Prompto was at least a little glad that his most important people were right here with him in this room.
Noctis straightened, visibly pulling himself together before he looked them each in the eye. "We have to go back."
The statement sat between the four for several seconds. Prompto's hand twinged sharply as it bled sluggishly against his shirt, but he ignored it for the anxiety burning his chest.
"We can't," Ignis said eventually. Noctis cut him a glare, but Gladio backed Ignis up, pulling himself out of his own dark thoughts.
"Iggy's right, Noct. You just recovered from being entirely drained. We've gotta find that kid before he does it again." Gladiolus fell silent, words trailing off as all four exchanged a shocked look.
"You don't think…" Prompto gaped. Those games always end in tragedy.
He...he knew. He knew this was going to happen. And he said nothing.
Was this the darkness he hinted was coming? Was this what he was supposedly brought here for? No, no that couldn't be. He would have said something if he knew. Right? Right?
Prompto watched in growing alarm as all three of his companion's faces darkened in anger, his brows drawing together in mounting confusion. Jason did know, though, didn't he? After all, he kept hinting at future events, knew what Prompto was, supposedly knew how their stories ended. But still, that didn't explain why he said nothing. He wasn't a bad guy, he wouldn't have–
A growl pulled him out of his thoughts.
"I am going to kill him." Noctis snarled, eyes glowing an icy blue. The room visibly darkened with his palpable anger, dimming the sun through the windows and dropping the temperature a noticeable few degrees.
Prompto shuddered, curling in on himself. He'd never seen his friend so angry before. Prompto's hands tingled with the power reverb, crownsgaurd weapons reacting to the prince's rage, palms itching to summon them. Prompto abolished the feeling with sharp shakes of his hands. Violence was the last thing that he wanted at the moment.
He feared for Jason. This was wrong. Prompto was responsible for this, and yeah, Jason might have said something sooner, but Prompto didn't even give him a chance to do so, did he? Didn't even give him a moment to change his mind, didn't even try to talk to him.
Because of what, Prompto's hurt feelings? Because Jason said some mean words while he was clearly distressed from being taken from his home?
The energy built as Noctis lost himself to his own grief and Prompto glanced frantically between him and his other two friends. A sick feeling rose in his stomach and clenched at his throat when he spotted similar fury on the two eldest of the group, hands glowing blue just like Prompto's, but neither man making the effort to shake it off like he had.
They were going to kill him. He could see it in their eyes and the scary part was that Prompto knew that each of them had already taken at least one life in the line of duty. Noctis when he was fifteen, a kidnapper. Gladiolus when he rebelled and slipped outside of the shield, encountering a skirmish. And Ignis in the palace, he stopped an assassination attempt. They could do it. They would, if they felt the need was great enough, Prompto was certain. But Jason hadn't done anything, at least not on purpose. This was all Prompto's fault.
Prompto opened his mouth to protest, but only a strangled whimper came out beneath the mounting pressure, apprehension seizing his words. He closed his eyes tightly and willed it to pass, the distinct feeling of being pulled along in the wake paralyzing him.
Just when Prompto felt he would suffocate right there, unnoticed on the floor, the air cleared. The pressure ceased. But it brought no relief. Gentle hands gripped Prompto's shoulders and persevered through his automatic flinch, pulling him close. "Deep breaths, Prom. Breathe with me," a low, comforting rumble filled his ear, and Prompto gasped against Gladiolus' warm shoulder. Gladio's chest expanded, and Prompto wheezed to match him.
Several tense seconds passed before Prompto's lungs finally eased, eyes fluttering open as his body melted into the soft hand he only just noticed rubbing his back gently. "Sorry," he muttered, hiding his face.
"You alright?"
"...Yeah."
When Prompto was finally able to pull back, shame coloring his features relentlessly, he noticed what was going on in the rest of the room.
Noctis stood in the same spot, rigid shoulders eased. Or more like, slumped in defeat. His expression was something Prompto never wanted to see on his best friend's face again, pinched, tight lipped and lidded, holding back the floodgates of grief. Two gloved, regal hands framed his face, and he clung to them desperately like a lifeline to a drowning man. Ignis stood close to him, forehead pressed against Noct's, speaking words too low for Prompto to hear. Whatever he was saying must have helped at least a little, because Noctis no longer seemed to be on the warpath. In fact, he rather looked worse off then Prompto felt.
With a deep, full body sigh, Prompto shook off his own anxieties–what were they, compared to the grief of his friends?–and moved past Gladio. Placing a hand on Ignis' shoulder, the older brunette moved aside so that Prompto could take Noctis in his arms. This time he wasn't pushed away, but neither did Noctis move to accept him. "Hey buddy," Prompto whispered. "It's going to be okay. We'll get through this."
Noctis only shook his head. He dropped his forehead to Prompto's shoulder and rested his hands lightly on his waist. Not a true hug, but Prompto took that as encouragement to continue. "We're right here with you till the end, Noct."
"Always," Ignis said, placing a hand on Noct's shoulder.
"You bet we are," Gladio added as well, hand falling heavily on Noct's other. "Now let's get going. We have to catch up to that bastard before–"
"Urgh!"
"Noct!"
Once again, Noctis collapsed into Prompto's arms, suddenly and inexplicably. A surge of terror went through Prompto for the second time as Noct's full weight fell into him like a lifeless doll. Three pairs of hands guided the prince frantically to the floor, Ignis' immediately fluttering about his vitals.
But it was different this time. Noctis was still conscious. Face pale, breathing in weak gasps, sweat beading his brow but eyes aware. Before any of them could say more than choice expletives, the raven cut them off with a heave. "Ignis! H-he's taking things from the armiger!"
"What? How?" Gladio shouted.
"I-I don't know... I never... connected him…" Noctis was running out of juice fast from the looks of him, pale eyes shuttering swiftly. "Bastard...took my Carbuncle doll…."
"That's it." Gladio growled. "We leave now." He lifted the prince from the floor, and by the time he'd stood, Noctis was out cold.
"I'll bring the car around," Ignis proclaimed, leaving the room immediately.
"I-I've got the bags." Prompto jumped into action as well, throwing discarded belongings haphazardly in whichever duffle happened to be closest.
By the time Prompto turned back around, his friends were nowhere to be seen. Throwing the luggage over his shoulders he followed them swiftly out of the room, spotting Gladio already halfway down the docs. Concerned customers indulging in an early breakfast looked after him with open concern and curiosity, the hosting staff hovering as if not quite sure what to do, rebuffed.
Prompto made to follow, but in his haste, ran into someone quite solid.
"Sorry!" he immediately exclaimed as he stumbled back, struggling to regain his balance with his unwieldy load. A large hand grabbed him by the shoulder and re-planted his feet firmly on the ground, much to Prompto's relief.
"Careful there," a refined accent slid from the stranger like smooth silk, and Prompto looked into the face of his victim-slash-savior, ready gratitude on his lips.
His voice froze.
Amber eyes set into a handsome middle aged face stared into his, a charming smile on thin lips. Crimson hair fell in waves over his forehead and high cheekbones, beneath the shade of a rather outdated fedora. Despite the heat, the man was covered head to toe in a curious collection of what looked like old drapes Prompto had seen in a museum somewhere during high school. Prompto didn't think he'd ever seen an outfit quite like it.
But it wasn't his appearance that startled Prompto out of speaking. He was quite attractive, charming even with that friendly smile, and Prompto had no reason to fear him.
Other than ice that suddenly ran through his veins, clogging his senses with inexplicable, shivering dread.
"Are you alright, my boy? Your friends looked like they were in quite the state."
The reminder of their situation had Prompto jolting out of the strange haze his mind had fallen into and he backed away swiftly. "S-sorry! I have to–" He turned away abruptly and hurried after Gladiolus, who had long reached the end of the doc, but not before he caught the amused smile pulling at the unsettling stranger's lips.
With a shudder, he dismissed the incident from his mind for more pressing matters, putting on a burst of speed once he got free of the wandering tourists. By the time he reached the car, Gladio and Ignis were waiting impatiently in the running vehicle. Prompto threw the bags into the trunk before unceremoniously jumping into the backseat near Noctis' curled form, and they were off.
"Where to?" Gladio asked over the sound of the roaring engine and peeling tires.
"Hammerhead. I doubt the man stayed at camp, and that is the closest settlement within walking distance."
"He could have gotten a ride?" Prompto added, slightly out of breath as he moved close to Noctis, physically reassuring himself he was still alive.
"Possibly. But we also need to rendezvous with Cor. Hammerhead is as good a place as any to start our search. You...might want to hold onto something."
"Wha–"
Gladio yelped as Ignis slammed the accelerator, propelling them away from Galdin Quay at a prodigious pace. Noctis didn't even stir when Prompto practically fell in his lap as Ignis took a rather physics defying turn.
"Whoa! Iggy, I didn't know you had it in you!"
"Seatbelts, gentlemen."
"Don't have to tell me twice," Gladio muttered, smile tugging at his mouth even as he put his seatbelt on with all seriousness. Ignis' pace was a far cry from the meandering speed they took to arrive, and Prompto rather wondered if he would survive the trip. But looking at Noctis' pinched face, pale as death against the black of the Regalia's interior, he couldn't bring himself to give a damn.
As much as he didn't think Jason deserved to die for what happened, Prompto would choose Noctis over him any day of the week. Jason had to be stopped, and Prompto was starting to wonder how far he would go to make that happen.
–
The situation at Hammerhead was dreary when they finally arrived.
Miraculously, the Regalia did not run out of gas even with Ignis practically pummeling the accelerator. Perhaps just as miraculously, Prompto didn't lose everything he'd eaten in the past year as Ignis' driving put drag racers to shame. Well, that is if a drag racer had the last member of his country's royal family/ purpose in life/ one of his closest friends on death's doorstep in the back seat while the threat of certain doom chased his polished heels.
It'd been a rough morning.
And it looked like they were far from the only ones affected by the news. Though it was barely early noon, people of all walks of life stood around in a daze, some in huddled groups, others alone with blank looks on their faces, devastation pointed in the direction of the still smoking city far in the distance, barely seen through the soft pattering of rain obscuring the horizon. By their dress, Prompto recognized a good deal of them as Insomnians, maybe having been outside the city when the enemy attacked, with no way to return to their destroyed homes. Or perhaps they were refugees, those able to escape the city. Either way, there was nowhere for them to go. As Ignis pulled up, Prompto immediately spotted Cindy amongst the refugees, handing out bowls to the listless people.
She looked like hell. They all did.
Ignis parked on the street and the three men scrambled from the Regalia to intercept Cindy.
"Boys," the exhausted young woman smiled weakly at their approach. It fell off her face swiftly when the distinct lack of Noctis became apparent. "Is it true?" she fretted. "Is the prince–"
Ignis stopped her with a raised hand. "Not here. Is there somewhere we can speak privately?"
Cindy nodded, frowning, and gestured for them to follow her to the garage.
Silently, Gladio fell back with a signal to Ignis, heading to the car to guard their insensate prince. Prompto gulped thickly as he watched the woman he admired practically drag herself to the shaded garage area.
Cid was waiting for them, his gnarled face lined more deeply than ever. He fiddled with a spanner in his hands, barely looking up when Cindy tried to get his attention.
"Cid," Ignis started.
"If you're looking for Cor," Cid interupted. "You just missed him."
"Actually, we are looking for another man. His name is Jason. Have you seen him?" Prompto gave Ignis a nervous look, but Ignis didn't take his eyes off of Cid. There was a coldness in Ignis' voice that Prompto could barely stand.
"Jason left with Cor, not a few hours ago," Cindy piped up tiredly. "He wanted to wait for you, but Cor insisted."
"Jason was waiting for us?" Prompto asked hesitantly.
"Yeah. He seemed mighty torn up about what happened in Insomnia. Said he had to find you no matter what. Even tried to run off into the desert by his lonesome! Thought I'd have to drag him back and patch him up again." She shook her head in bemusement.
Prompto's stomach sank. "Again?"
"Yeah," Cindy gestured dramatically. "When he got here, he'd been torn up real bad. Saved a man and his daughter from Sabertusks! What was he doing out there alone, anyway?"
Ignis pursed his lips but didn't comment on the plain look of guilt painting Prompto's face. "Why did he leave with Cor?" he asked instead.
"Cor believes he's a spy for the Imperials," Cid finally spoke, hitting the head of the spanner into his palm.
"...And what do you believe?"
Cid snorted wetly. "I think that kid has no idea what the hell he's talkin' about. Probably wouldn't know an Imperial from a wet rat if it bit him in the ass. Jason could, however, access the prince's armiger." Cid narrowed his eyes. "Now what would you know about that, huh?"
Ignis remained stoic. "We don't know much, but it is imperative that we find him. The prince is alive, but only just. Whatever Jason is doing, he needs to be stopped."
"Sonofabitch." Cid stood, pacing two steps before pausing in front of a small table, a photograph of a younger Cid and several others resting atop it. Almost to himself, he said, "Reggie thought he could protect the kid by sending him away, but the fool prince somehow managed to find trouble anyway." He shook his head and turned to face them both. "Cor left a few hours ago for a base to the north. My guess is that he's headed for the hunter headquarters up there. You best catch him before he moves on again. Guy never could keep still for more than a day or two. Better hurry, or your little friend might not be alive for much longer."
"Cor wouldn't hurt him...would he?" Prompto stuttered. Cid merely raised a gnarled brow and Prompto swallowed, conceding the point.
"We'd best be off," Ignis said tonelessly, turning on his heel and heading for the Regalia without a backwards glance.
Prompto turned to Cindy, nervousness growing with every swift step Ignis took from his side. But he couldn't just leave, not without saying something. "Ah. Um. T-thank you for looking after Jason. We'll…see you soon?" The last part came out as a painful question, Prompto still not quite sure how to talk to the young woman.
"No problem," Cindy replied without batting an eye at his stuttering, probably long used to men losing their words around her. Or perhaps she was just very, very tired and didn't notice. Was it bad that Prompto hoped that was the case? "Jason is a good sort." She eyed him sharply. Okay, so maybe not that tired. "Try not to let him go off on his own again, ya'hear?"
"Ah…haha…." Prompto laughed, but it mostly came out like a strangled exhale. "Whelp, see you next time!" And he booked it, racing after Ignis before the man could peel out without him.
–
Present: Hunter Headquarters, Northern Liede
Jason grimaced through another bland bite of sandwich, wondering idly if all the food in this world was gross, or if it was just a sign of the trying times. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Ignis' stew had been great. But it wasn't like Ignis would be willing to make him anything when he did see him. All four probably hated him at this point for not warning them about Insomnia. Hell, Jason hated himself. He did not look forward to the time he finally had to face their ire.
But he was getting ahead of himself again. He had to find them first, and that wasn't likely for two reasons. One, Cor still held his leash. The man hadn't spoken a word to him since they arrived at the Hunter's HQ an hour ago other than single syllable commands like 'sit' or 'eat' before he wandered off to talk to...someone, leaving Jason to his own devices. Jason didn't know what was going through the older man's head, whether he believed him now or what. Honestly, he felt too tired to give a damn at the moment, much less try to escape.
Not that Jason could have gotten very far. His foot was clearly fractured, and low and behold, there were no potions to be had at the moment. That would be the second reason he wasn't going to find the guys any time soon. He wasn't going to get very far on one foot, and there was no way he was going to hitch a ride with Big Bird again. Not on his life.
Jason picked idly at the bandage covering his arm, musing about the new scars he'd already acquired. He wondered if he'd be as scar worn as Cor by the end of the weak, judging by how these past few days had gone. He could have summoned a healing potion from Noct's stores, but that just felt wrong. He wasn't in any danger at the moment, and for all he knew, the guys could be in the midst of some fierce battle. And to this world, their lives were infinitely more important than Jason's discomfort. No, he would wait for the hunter's suppliers to obtain more, as he was assured they would as soon as dawn broke the horizon and it was safe to travel.
Jason didn't remember the trip there. After the attack on the base the pain of his wounds had pushed him beyond the limits of what his body had ever had to endure in such a short time frame and he passed out on the ride over. He couldn't feel anything but grateful for this, honestly. If his wounds hadn't pulled him under, then the stress of riding a wild beast through a daemon infested desert with the threat of imperial husks chasing after them would have.
Actually, that probably hadn't helped the situation.
Hunters milled about the exhausted man, ignoring him for the most part. All of them were in quite the state since the news of Insomnia's fall, and Jason wasn't sure exactly who was in charge of all of these men and women but Cor seemed to hold significant sway over their actions. But Jason wasn't prying too deeply, more concerned with forcing food into his stomach so he could handle whatever catastrophe decided to kick him in the balls next.
If only he knew.
Well, if he had, he probably would have buried himself in a hole and hoped the world could go on without him. Would have saved Ignis the trouble of doing it himself.
Jason was too lost in his thoughts to notice the grating sound of tires harshly biting into gravel.
Jason felt much too exhausted to sense the danger approaching his slumped body in the form of scuffed, debonair boots parting the dust with purpose.
Jason would have to be dead, however, not to notice the gloved hand that slammed onto his table, the acid green eyes that bore harshly into his, or the unmistakeable point of a dagger digging into the delicate skin of his neck should he so much as twitch.
"You," Ignis Scentia spoke calmly, tone as bitingly sharp as his blade, "will cease what you are doing to his highness, or I will end you."
–
AN: Jason won't know what hit him! Will he survive the confrontation?
Hi everyone, it's good to be writing this story again. Been going through a rough patch, so any encouragement from you guys would be appreciated. Also, what would you like to see happen? I'm curious to know where you think this story is going.