Content warning for a depiction of a panic attack.

To Whatever End

Gladio had been awake long after they had all turned in. He knew he needed his rest to be in top form for the long, long road ahead, but his mind just wouldn't stop buzzing. Reading about Insomnia's fall in the paper had been hard enough to process, but going there, seeing it all before his eyes and having the reality of it slammed into his face made it all seem like one big nightmare. He couldn't get the images out of his head.

King Regis was dead, which meant…Clarus was too. Gladio wanted to be proud of his old man, giving his life for his king even if Regis wasn't going to be too far behind him. But it didn't make his heart ache any less; he would never see him again. At least he had already heard from Iris and knew that she was safe. Losing his dad was hard enough, but he knew that the death of his little sister would have destroyed him in ways he wasn't sure he could ever have moved past.

So, instead of sleeping, Gladio lay on his side, staring at the tent wall and trying not to lose it. The others were passed out beside him—lucky bastards. He had no idea how given the day's events, but he wouldn't judge. Better unconscious than awake with a brain that wouldn't shut up.

It was quiet aside from the faint noises of wind rustling the leaves outside, and wildlife in the distance. That made it very easy for Gladio to pick up on the breathing of one of his friends becoming off—to say the least. Immediately concerned, he rolled over to face the three of them. A quick glance in the dim light showed the source: Noctis, lying between him and Ignis. The prince's breaths were erratic and he twitched every so often in his sleep.

Gladio sighed, sympathetic. Nightmares. Can't blame the kid. He reached out, intending to shake Noctis out of his terrors, when things took a turn.

Noctis began to breathe way too fast and too deep. He sounded panicked, gasping like he was drowning in air but also couldn't get enough at the same time.

"Shit," Gladio growled, immediately scrambling for one of their electric lanterns. He flicked it on, bathing the inside of the tent in a yellow, artificial light. His gaze whipped back to Noctis, and he felt his heart break a little more.

The prince was curled in on himself, his hands clawing at his heaving chest as he stared ahead at nothing with wide, glazed eyes.

Gladio placed one hand on Noctis' shoulder and the other in his sweat-damp hair. "Hey…hey, Noct. You gotta slow down."

The noise and sudden light woke Ignis who sat up, blinking confusedly and groping for his glasses. His eyes widened as he processed what was going on.

"He's hyperventilating," Gladio reported to him uselessly.

"I can see that," Ignis said, remaining calm. "What happened?"

What do you think? Gladio shook his head. "He was just asleep and then…"

Prompto stirred, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Wha'z goin' on?" he slurred.

Ignis ignored him, setting about tending to their friend. He gently cupped Noctis' cheek in his hand, trying to catch the focus of his fearful eyes.

"Noct, look at me," he urged.

"Specs…can't breathe…hurts…d-dying," Noctis managed between gasps. It sounded agonizing.

"You're not dying," Ignis said. His voice was steady, but his anguish over Noctis' state was evident on his face. "I know this is frightening, but it's not killing you. You're having a panic attack."

Noctis seemed to half understand, but didn't calm down at all. He was still unable to control his breathing, continuing that awful clawing as if breaking his own chest open would help.

Ignis maneuvered around to kneel behind him. "May I sit you up?"

The prince nodded—more of a slight jerk of his head—and Gladio took his hands off him, letting Ignis haul their gasping friend into his arms. He was sat up back to chest as his adviser kept a loose, nonrestrictive hold on him.

Prompto crawled his way over after realizing what was going on, looking both anxious and commiserative. He gently pulled Noctis' hands away from his chest and held them between his own to stop him from hurting himself; there were already angry red scratch marks across his neck and collarbone.

"Hey, man," he said carefully. "It's okay. You're—."

"It's not okay!" Noctis snapped, startling all of them. "Nothing will ever be okay again!"

His voice was torn, breathless and so deeply distressed that it brought tremors to Gladio's hands. It hurt so much to be unable to shield him from this. He just wanted to do his job and take every punch the world was bombarding Noctis with. But different pains had their grip on his friend; bottomless grief and uncertainty. Gladio couldn't save him from that.

Noctis dry-heaved as he continued to struggle, the force of it sending tears down his cheeks. Ignis held him as close as he dared, his eyes shinning in the light.

"You're scared for the future, Noct," he said softly. "I understand; believe me. I assure you that we'll figure it all out, but right now you need to stay in the present and you need to breathe."

"I can't," Noctis wheezed, retching again. "I c-can't…I—"

"You can," Ignis said. "Here; can you feel me breathing?"

"Y-yeah."

"You're going to focus on that, alright? Just follow me. Deep breath in, hold for three, then out."

The air in the tent was tense as Ignis led Noctis through the calm breathing exercise. He spoke softly to him, running one of his hands up and down his upper arm in a soothing motion as he took obvious, calculated, easy-to-follow breaths.

Noctis did his best. He struggled on the first few inhales and often failed to hold the air in long enough. His lungs spasmed halfway through an exhale which caused him to breathe in sharply in a painful sounding way. A shuddering sob escaped him.

Unable to take it any longer, Gladio rested his hand on Noctis' knee.

"Keep trying, kid. You're doing great," he encouraged, meeting his friend's exhausted, bloodshot eyes. Please don't pass out, he silently begged, knowing that would be the straw that broke his back. "Come on. Just breathe."

Prompto stayed quiet, clearly worried about saying the wrong thing like he had before and restarting the whole process. Instead, he was holding Noctis' hands clasped between his to his own chest. He was following the same breathing pattern. Whether it was to provide another point of reference for Noctis or to stave off an attack of his own, Gladio didn't know. Either way, he knew the prince would appreciate the comfort of his touch.

Finally, Noctis completed the cycle perfectly. Once, then twice.

"There you go," Gladio said, hearing pride in his own voice. "That's it."

The tension left Noctis' body and he slumped further into Ignis' embrace. He glanced around, trying to collect himself.

"Can you tell me where you are?" Ignis asked him.

"Um…t-tent…haven," Noctis said. "It's still dark out."

"Good. And what do you feel?"

"You're holding me…Prom's got my hands…Gladio has a death-grip on my knee."

Gladio loosened his hold, quickly apologizing as he hadn't realized what he had been doing.

"Right," Ignis continued. "And what does that all mean?"

"That this is real…this is now," Noctis said, calm and convinced. He released a slow breath. "We're all safe."

Ignis lightly rested his chin on the prince's shoulder.

"We are," he said simply before pulling away to rummage through their scatter of belongings in the tent (he had been lenient that night about the mess given the high tensions). He eventually obtained some tissues and a bottle of water and returned to Noctis' side.

The prince gratefully took the items—after Prompto gave him his hands back—and went about wiping the tears and snot from his face before chugging the entire bottle. He held the empty plastic in his hand, staring at it intently with pinched brows and refusing to meet anyone's eyes for the time being.

"I—um…I'm sorry about that," he finally said. His voice was still a little rough.

"Don't be," Gladio said, patting his friend's leg. "I'd be surprised if this didn't happen at least once."

Noctis looked at Prompto, looking apologetic. "That doesn't excuse snapping at you like that when you were just trying to help."

"Hey, no biggie. Already forgotten," Prompto assured with a wave of his hands in a canceling motion. "People telling me it's gonna be okay when I'm freaking out helps me, but clearly it's not the same for you." He brought a finger to his temple. "I'll log that away."

Noctis said nothing. He was trembling slightly, looking equal parts embarrassed and lost in a way that reminded Gladio of a much younger prince. One who didn't yet know of the day his whole world would be yanked suddenly from under his feet.

Ignis wrapped an arm around Noctis' shoulders.

"Would you like to talk about this, Noct?" he asked gently, not demanding anything of him.

Noctis sniffed. "Not about everything, but there's something that I…"

The others gave him silence to gather his words.

"It's selfish—"

Prompto interrupted. "It's not—"

"Let me finish," Noctis said without any heat. He paused to wipe at a stray tear. "It's selfish, but I'm really glad you guys are here with me. That you weren't there when…I've already lost so—"

He choked up and said nothing more, but he didn't have to.

"Aw, buddy," Prompto said, settling down to sit pressed against Noctis' side. Tears swam in his eyes. "I don't think any of us would rather be anywhere else either."

"Indeed," Ignis said. He let out an uncharacteristically shaky breath. "I would never wish for you to face this alone."

Gladio moved his hand to Noctis forearm, meeting the cool and clammy skin with a reassuring squeeze.

Noctis lost the battle with his tears, but they came few and silent with a small smile.

"Just…thanks, guys," he said.

The next minutes were spent in companionable silence, comforting despite the unsettling scene that had preceded it. They weren't okay, and they didn't have to be. For now, reigning things in enough to move forward was good enough. They would probably have to do so clawing and bleeding through every day, but they would do it together. And Gladio wouldn't have it any other way. Protecting Noctis was his life and he would see his prince—his king—through all hardships.

Ignis got up and headed towards the tent's exit, unzipping the flaps apart as he said, "I'm certain a bit of tea would do us all some good."

"Yeah. That sounds great, Specs," Noctis said. He sat with his arms over his bent knees, looking tiredly out onto the flat rock of the haven outside.

Prompto didn't budge from his place next to his best friend, visibly concerned as he watched Noctis intently.

Noctis' face was still pale and stained with tear tracks. His eyes looked bright as if he would start crying again at the drop of a hat, and the skin around them was raw and red. He leaned into Prompto's touch, prompting the blonde to put out his arm and pull him in impossibly closer.

Gladio reached out and ruffled Noctis' already unruly hair, leaving his fingers buried in the dark strands. Blue eyes met his.

"We're with you to whatever end, Noct," he said. "Don't forget it."

End

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