AN: Heeeeeey. This fic isn't abandoned. I just got distracted with other stuff, and the second half of stories are always the hardest for me to write. Stella was cancelled and that makes me sad. I have the rest of the fic planned out, and there will only be four or five more chapters. Enjoy!
The realization hit Gladiolus like a sack of bricks. Prompto Argentum, the blond that he thought was filled with life, had the plague and was dying. Not just dying in the sense that he might not be around next month. The fugitive could be breathing his final breaths today.
Helping him immediately became his primary concern. He'd worry about himself being exposed to the plague later, and after that he'd worry about being mad at Noctis for not telling him.
"I'm taking you to the hospital," Gladiolus declared.
"No!" Before he could take his car out of park, Prompto grabbed his waist. He frantically shook his head. "I don't want to expose anyone. Call Noct."
Expose. Gladiolus's first response was to argue that Prompto's health came first, but he knew the dangers of his illness. All it would take was one unlucky person to pass by him or touch something he touched, and the disease could spread throughout the city like wildfire, taking lives with it. The kingdom would follow after Solheim, where people were paid to go around daily and collect the newest corpses.
Gladiolus hated it. He hated the way Prompto was looking at him with absolute dread, horror, and desperation in his eyes. He hated that he couldn't take Prompto to get proper treatment because of the too large risk. His boyfriend could be dying, and there was nothing he could do.
A part of him was also angry, because his family had been within miles of someone who had the plague. They had been in physical contact with someone who had kissed a man with the plague. Those thoughts were for another time, however.
"...Alright." Gladiolus had to force the words out.
He unlocked his phone and dialed Noctis's number. Prompto laid his head against the dashboard. A moan escaped his lips, and as Gladiolus waited for Noctis to pick up, he could have sworn he saw Prompto get sicker right before his eyes.
"Hello?" Noctis answered.
"Noct!" The words came out more urgent and desperate than Gladiolus had intended. "Prompto-He's sick, Noct."
Prompto started to heave again. It took a big of maneuvering, but Gladiolus put the phone between his head and shoulder and reached across the middle of the car to wrap his arm around Prompto. He tried to move away from Gladiolus, but the swordsman kept his arm around him. If Prompto died today, he wanted his last hours to be with him despite the risk it posed. In Gladiolus's opinion, logic could go to hell right now. After understanding that Gladiolus wasn't letting go, the blond leaned into his touch.
"What?!" Noctis snapped. "Shit. Gladio, leave, right now, and take a shower in my room before you go home. I'll be there to take care of him soon."
Gladiolus winced. This was why Prompto was kept locked up. In the isolated section of the palace, he couldn't get anyone else sick. Yet Gladiolus had taken him out of it. If anyone else fell ill, it would be his fault.
"We're not at the palace. We're-"
"No, nothing's wrong," Noctis said to someone on the other side of the phone. "Where are you two?" Anger seeped through every syllable.
Gladiolus might have barked something back if Prompto's condition was less severe. "The Malboro gas station off the highway." Prompto groaned before puking once more. Some of it got on the swordman. Gladiolus heard more apologies muttered in a foreign tongue. "Prompto!"
"You left Insomnia!? He wasn't allowed to leave for a reason!" Noctis yelled.
"Yeah, I get that now," Gladiolus countered. "He's sick as a dog, Noct! What do I need to do?"
The background noise on Noctis's side vanished, signaling he had left the party. "Give him some water if you have any and make sure he doesn't get too hot. Drive to the forest close by. I'll be there as soon as I can."
The call was dropped. Gladiolus tucked his phone into his pocket before turning his attention back towards his sick passenger. The happiness and color had disappeared from Prompto's face. Instead of laughter, all he could hear were groans and moans.
He couldn't leave the car to get water from the gas station. He'd been exposed to Prompto. He lacked anything cold to cool down Prompto with. Gladiolus hated feeling so useless. He put the car in reverse, and the younger male looked up at him in confusion. He had to feel like shit because Gladiolus could see misery in his eyes.
"We're going to the forest close to hear." More for the safety of others than Prompto unless Noctis had something up his sleeve. "Noct's coming to meet us."
Prompto nodded, then winced and clutched his head. "Gotcha."
The drive to the forest was short. Gladiolus went off road to further seclude themselves. Out here, they didn't have to worry about anyone stumbling onto Prompto but Noctis.
Prompto undid his buckle. "I'm gonna lay down."
"Need any help?"
"No. I'm good."
He climbed the back seat of the car. He let his body weight pull him down instead of laying himself down and curled up with his knees tucked against his chest. The blond was shivering even though the car was at a comfortable temperature.
Gladiolus could do nothing but wait for Noctis to show up. He didn't have anymore napkins to clean up his vomit with. He didn't have a potion to make Prompto feel better. He looked back at the blond and placed the back of his hand on his forehead. The gunman was hot to touch. Gladiolus knew basic first aid and how to treat wounds, but nursing a person back to health was Ignis's area of expertise. He wished the younger man was with him. Ignis would be better at this than he was.
An idea came to mind, and Gladiolus was thankful that it gave him something to do.
"I'll be right back."
Prompto gave a small nod of his head.
Gladiolus left the car. There was a small river near by. He ran to it, took off his jacket, and dunked the clothing in the cool water. It wasn't as cold as he would have liked, but it would have to do. He sprinted back to his car and laid the rag over Prompto's forehead. The blond whined. His reaction only further showed how ill he was, because he didn't use the situation as an excuse to gawk at Gladiolus's bare torso.
"Don't!" he whimpered. "It's cold. I'm cold."
"You need to cool down." Hopefully. Gladiolus lacked proper medical knowledge. His actions were nothing more than guesses. "Your temperature must be over a hundred, Prompto." It was an attempt at soothing, but it sounded more angry and desperate than gentle.
The jacket was soaked and excess water ran down his face. The liquid was not clear, but instead tainted to a light flesh-like color. Prompto wiped his face with his hand. After seeing the color of the water, he flipped over on his side and covered his head with the jacket.
"Alright! I will. Just-just don't look at me."
"What? Prompto, look at me." He pushed on the blond's shoulder, trying to turn him around.
"No! My makeup, it's running!"
"Seriously?" Prompto could be dying, and he was worrying more about his makeup being ruined than getting helped. "You puked on me, dummy. I don't care."
"Promise?" Prompto weakly asked.
"Of course." It should go without saying.
Nervously, the younger male turned his head so Gladiolus could see him. The jacket had been pushed up to his forehead and almost all his makeup had been washed away, giving Gladiolus a clear view of his bare face.
Prompto's face was distorted by nasty scars and scabs. His entire face was covered with the marks of the plague. Ugly pink scars filled the skin. There were the beginnings of new bumps appearing on his face that marked another attack of the plague. Later they'd pop and puss would leak out. Even though it was the face of his beloved, the sight made Gladiolus want to turn away. Prompto looked like death. The scars had been ingrained into everyone's mind as a warning after the plague struck. Don't touch, they said. This body will kill you. This body will die soon. Gladiolus forced himself to keep eye contact despite the revulsion in his stomach.
His phone chimed once. He happily turned his attention to it, and after unlocking it, he was greeted with a text message from Ignis. Prompto covered his face with the jacket once more and turned away from Gladiolus, ashamed and embarrassed.
What's going on? Noct had me declare the forest off-limits and wouldn't tell me why.
He wanted to give Ignis the full story, but he knew the man would come running the second he heard his friend was in danger. Gladiolus couldn't risk him getting sick. His attempt at replying with a lie was interrupted by the sound of an approaching car. Prompto lifted his head to peak out of the back window.
Noctis stepped out of the car. He rushed over to Gladiolus's vehicle and opened the door. His eyes glowed red.
"Noct!" Both the swordsman and the gunman called out for the prince at the same time, though the latter much weaker than the former.
"I'm here. How are you feeling, Prompto?" Noctis sat beside the fugitive.
"Like shit. Se il vous plaît, apporte Gladiolus loin d'ici. Je ne veux pas lui tomber malade."
Noctis nodded. Not for the first time Gladiolus wished he knew Prompto's first language.
"Yeah. J'essaierai."
Gladiolus grabbed Noctis's shoulder. When the prince turned towards him, Gladiolus saw anger in his eyes. "Noct, is he going to be okay?" he asked, despite knowing that Noctis's couldn't give him a true answer.
"Prompto's too stubborn to die," Noctis replied. "He's been bugging me to show him a chocobo for weeks. He's not kicking the bucket until he does." It was a nice way to say he didn't know. He wiped the remainder of his makeup off of Prompto's face, the blond whimpering anytime he used too much pressure around the fresh bumps on his face. "Wash yourself in the river and return to the palace in my car. Then shower again with soap before you leave."
"No, I'm not leaving him!"
"You'll get sick!" Noctis argued, ignoring Prompto for the moment.
Gladiolus crossed his arms. "You know how much time I've spent with him. We kiss. If I'm going to catch the plague, I would've caught it by now. And what about you? Your life is more important than mine."
"I haven't gotten sick since the day my dad found his first gray hair," he dismissed.
Because that was the day the crystal's power transferred from king to prince, and he gained all the remarkable power that came with it. Gone was the boy who could carelessly sneak out of his room at night. He became the kingdom's source of power. His shoulders began to ache under the weight, but they soon toughened.
Noctis turned his attention back to nursing. Prompto made eye contact with Gladiolus.
"You sure, Gladio? You could still..."
"I'm sure." And to prove it, he took Prompto's hand in his own and squeezed it. He didn't want to be anywhere else.
Prompto grinned. There were hints of tears in the corner of his eyes. "Merci, Gladiolus. Merci. J'ai tellement peur. Je ne veux pas mourir."
Gladiolus was only able to understand thank you, but that was enough for him. "Of course, Prompto."
Noctis sighed. "Gladio, I get why you want to be here but-"
"Look, two sets of hands are better than one. I'm staying," he stated.
Noctis began to argue, but heaves from Prompto shut him up. He swore under his breath. "Fine! There's a tent in my backseat. Set it up, then when you're done, come back here and wet his.." Noctis took a moment to determine what it was that was resting on Prompto's forehead. "...your jacket again."
As the day went on, Prompto grew worse.
He was moved from the car to the tent. It was large, and he laid in the open middle. he tried eat, but anything the blond put in him came back up, even water. His fever climbed no matter how cool they tried to keep him. He started to hallucinate, and his newly learned language was lost upon. Noctis would translate his babbles when he found it fitting.
Every pause of breath scared Gladiolus. Each groan made him worry that it would be his last. It couldn't be. It would be too cruel. He didn't want to say goodbye to Prompto's playful jabs, his gorgeous smile, the warmth of his body, or any of the other countless things that made Prompto who he was. Today he was supposed to go visit a ranch with his boyfriend, not watch him die. There was so much he wanted to experience with Prompto.
Gladiolus and Noctis took turns caring for him. One would wet his jacket again while the other tried to get him water in him. One would hold his hand as he screamed while the other cleaned.
If they talked while they watched over Prompto, it was only to communicate about his care. Gladiolus was given orders to wipe him down or try to get him water, but they didn't speak about each other. Gladiolus was too worried about his dear boyfriend, Noctis about his friend.
Gladiolus found it easier to look at Prompto as time went on. He hated himself for the initial revulsion, but eventually the need to help him numbed him to his own disgust.
Prompto called out père and mère, for Bahamut, and even once began to pray for his soul. Gladiolus's heart almost stopped. In that moment, he feared Prompto was ready to give up.
Gladiolus felt horribly unprepared. Noctis and he were guessing at the treatment. They weren't doctors and didn't know if they should keep giving him water when it constantly produced clear vomit minutes later. A hospital was out of the question due to the risk of infection.
They were lucky Prompto's illness fell at a time when Noctis could get away. If his father called him to the battlefront, Prompto would be left only with Gladiolus, and the prince was more familiar with the illness than he was.
At nightfall, Prompto fell asleep, and his caretakers were offered a brief moment of peace. Noctis sat outside the tent watching the fire as Gladiolus exited the shelter after checking on Prompto one last time. The prince jostled the logs with the poker. Gladiolus sat down with a heavy thud next to him. The air was heavy.
"Say it." Noctis poked the fire again, and the flames crackled.
Gladiolus was glad for Noctis bringing up the topic. It had been boiling inside of him since he fist noticed that Prompto was ill.
"What the hell were you thinking bringing someone with the plague into the city, Noct?"
And yet, if he hadn't, Gladiolus never would have met Prompto, fallen in love with him, or spent any of the priceless time with him.
"I didn't know he was sick. He was isolated and chained up when I rescued him. He must have caught it when we were leaving." Annoyance leaked through to his tone despite Noctis's effort to remain calm.
"And when were you planning on telling me my boyfriend was dying?" Gladiolus's words carried more anger than the prince's.
Prompto began moaning. As it was Noctis's turn to look after the blond, he got to his feet. "I wanted to keep you safe. If I had it my way, you never would have known his name."
"Wait." Noctis's hands paused their opening of the tent. Gladiolus was an adult. If he was going to yell at Noctis for his sins, it was only right the swordsman confessed his own. I'm sorry for bringing him out here. I should have listened to you."
Noctis's expression lightened, and he saw the hint of a smile on his face. "Don't be. I would have done the same thing. I know better than anyone that Prompto is hard to say no to."
He disappeared into the tent.
Near midnight, he grew worse.
The bumps on his face had risen and began to burst. Noctis tried to gently clean then, but even so, every time he touched them caused Prompto to whimper in pain. The prince insisted on treating this part of the illness alone, even though with all Gladiolus had been exposed to the plague, touching puss couldn't do more harm.
Prompto's eyes wouldn't linger on either of them. They faced upwards, looking at the top of the tent but focusing on something that wasn't there. Gladiolus urged Noctis to sleep. The older man did the same for the former. Noctis was power; Noctis was the vessel for the crystal and could conquer impossible challenges, but Gladiolus still saw him as the boy he protected from a snake one night in the wilderness.
"Gladio," Prompto called between pants. "Gladio."
Hearing his name called tugged at Gladiolus's heart. He was quick to grab the hand of his beloved. "I'm here, Prompto. You'll be feeling better soon." Entertaining the idea that Prompto might die that night was more harmful than useful, so Gladiolus concentrated on Prompto living.
Prompto weakly squeezed his hand. "Je t'aime, Gladio. Je t'aime. Merci pour tout. Je regrette que suis malade."
I love you, Gladio. I love you.
The rest of his words were meaningless to Gladio, but what he had understood was so important. "Noct! What's he saying!?"
Noctis frown grew as he translated. "He says he loves you. Thank you for everything. I am sorry that I am sick." Prompto continued talking. "I love you so much," Noctis continued. "You gave me joy again. Forgive me for giving you misery back. I love you, G-Gladio." Noctis choked on his name, and the prince wiped the wetness from his eyes.
They sounded like the words of a dying man. Prompto leaned into the arm that held his hand, and he kissed Gladiolus's wrist. The swordsman felt like crying too, but tears would only make things worse. He could cry later when Prompto didn't need him to be strong.
"Love you too, Prompto. Save the rest for tomorrow, okay?"
"Oui."
Gladiolus adored Prompto, but love would have been too strong of a word earlier that morning. Their interactions were small. Love was large. He hadn't spent enough time with the blond to form the strong connection that love demeaned for, but the intensity of Prompto fighting for his life made a damn good substitute.
Morning came, but Prompto's health didn't come with it. His illness continued to wreak havoc. Gladiolus was exhausted from tending to Prompto all night. Noctis was fueled by something inhuman, and it was because of that that come morning his red eyes held no exhaustion.
The fugitive failed to keep any food or water down which only added to the stress already on his body. His temperature continued to be high, and he continued to be delusional.
Come noon he fell asleep. It was a break for the fugitive, but his caretakers still continued their struggle to treat him. Gladiolus knew the path to the river well enough to walk it with his eyes closed now. Noctis proved himself to be so much more than a normal human.
In the afternoon, Noctis placed the back of his head on Prompto's forehead and declared that his fever was breaking. Those were some of the most wonderful words Gladiolus had ever heard. He almost laughed out of relief.
The plague would not take Prompto today.
Translations:
Se il vous plaît, apporte Gladiolus loin d'ici. Je ne veux pas lui tomber malade. - Please, take Gladiolus away from here. I don't want him to get sick.
J'essaierai. - I'll try.
Merci, Gladiolus. Merci. J'ai tellement peur. Je ne veux pas mourir. Thank you, Gladiolus. Thank you. I'm so afraid. I don't want to die.
