Beta read by: SinikkavonWolperting and istoleyourcheesecake
Btw, I'm leaving out the use of potions and other curatives, seeing as they make things far too easy, and also since they are never used in Kingsglaive, and I kinda wanna follow more closely to that from now on.
Ignis merely sat there, eyes resting on the blond's prone and slumbering form as he held a rag to his nose in an attempt to stunt the blood flow; the throbs now dulled away into a tedious and irritating nuisance. He glanced at the clock, now past five in the morning, and the only sign of life they had received was the occasional distraught whimper and whine in his sleep. Dreams that dipped down into nightmares plaguing him as he turned to the side once again, fresh droplets of sweat running down the side of his face. Prompto's face scrunched slightly in his uneasiness, a subtle mumble whispering from his form. The others were ignorant as to what those murmurs consisted of, but the tone of it told them enough.
His eyes shifted over to Gladio, the ruffling and rummaging yanking his attention away while the man searched through their youngest's belongings while he was out. Though, he did as he could to keep the noise level to a minimum, not wanting to disturb him and alert him, knowing the problems that could arise from such a mistake. He shoved clothing to the side, hands slipping into every pocket and every crevice, leaving nothing untouched in his search. "Nothing, nothing, and absolutely nothing," he fumed under his breath, desperation and bewilderment clutching at his chest. "There has to be something." He turned the bag over, spilling its contents onto the floor as he began spreading them out and lifting one thing at a time in order to inspect it thoroughly.
"Gladio," Ignis kept his voice low, it being vaguely distorted due to his protected and covered nose, "Calm down."
"I am calm," he growled, practically throwing another shirt back into the bag. "I'm as calm as I'm gonna be." He picked up a pair of pants and started shaking them vigorously, trying to shake out anything he may have missed in his search, but quickly gave up and shot up to his feet, thrusting the material back onto the floor and into the pile, "Dammit, this is gonna get us nowhere. I should just wake him up right now and get answers." He went to take a step towards the blond, but a light touch on his upper arm stopped him dead in his tracks; his teeth gritting together in pent up frustration and worry.
The tension in his arms fled at the contact, and he settled his eyes over his shoulder, landing on Noctis' downcast head, his face obscured by midnight hair as it fell in front of his own gaze. "Just stop it," he barely uttered, the words almost inaudible as they fell on the shield's blood-filled ears, "Alright? Just stop."
The brute turned his head away with a small grunt and let his shoulders slump a bit. "Have it your way," he shrugged, going to sit in the free chair next to Ignis. "But when he wakes, I'm done playing games." He dropped himself into the cushion, right leg already draped across the other and arms firmly crossed.
The king glanced from his protector down to the clothes still littering the floor, and a forceful wave of rage seemed to surge through him. "What the hell is your problem?" he kept his tone low and precise, an edge of poison coating them as his tongue spat sharply, "You're over there treating him like a common criminal." His hands balled at his sides as he finally cut his eyes over to stare intimidatingly into amber daggers.
The other grimaced at the comparison, he was doing no such thing; there was a difference in being cautious and thorough for the well-being of someone you cared for and regard someone as a typical hoodlum. Grinding his teeth, he spat back, "Choices have consequences, and if you act the part, well..."
"We don't know for sure though," Noctis countered. "This is nothing but you two seeing something because you don't have a better expla-"
"Noct, for crying out loud, he broke Iggy's nose!" his voice increased in volume, becoming almost that of a full yell, and realizing his error, he quickly lowered it. "If he were his normal self, that wouldn't have happened; he wouldn't have tried to make a run for it. How can you not see the issue with this?" The man remained seated, but he didn't need to move for the younger to feel the heat radiating from him, coming off in bulldozing droves, "Matters like this take a bit of harshness, get used to it."
The raven-haired didn't respond, his only reaction consisting of scoffing and glancing towards his adviser, red-stained rag resting beneath his nose, and even in the darkness of their room, he could make out the blossoming bruising that trailed around the surrounding area, accenting his eyes in a not-so-flattering way. And, in that moment, he permitted his loyalty to his friend to falter, allowed his knowledge of his companion to become questioned in the back of his mind. Despite his overall flaring emotion towards Gladio, there was no mistaking that he had a point; Prompto would never do something like that if he were in the right mindset, and it absolutely burdened his heart to consider it. With a lack of a better response, he dropped to his knees, and as if on autopilot, began sorting through Prompto's things, carefully slipping them back into his bag where they belonged.
Through all of it, Ignis remained silent, eyes back on watching the gunner, waiting for the moment he began to stir, so many questions and concerns swimming around his head in an endless cycle. He pried the cloth from his face, wincing when the small movement brought fresh agony searing through his features, and waited a moment for a new stream of blood that never came. Finally, at least that was one less thing to worry about. Lifting a finger to brush over the bone, he flinched at the slightest touch, but that's all it took for him to feel the swelling that infested the area, the light heat that drifted off it.
Seeing as there was no telling how long he'd sleep, the same patterns were recycled now for nearly an hour, he pushed himself up with a small groan and hovered towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. The man leaned weightedly against the sink and, for the first time, really soaked in the appearance of his face, the response to witnessing the damage for himself being to cringe both inwardly and outwardly. Contrasting darkness was already creeping along his face, leaving the taut and angry swelling in its trail. He hadn't been aware how rough it was before now, the pain wasn't so severe as to give away the extent of the injury, but then again, his mind was still preoccupied with other things.
Looking more closely, his glare settled in the slight bend in it, and turning his head more to the side, he became painfully aware of the crookedness of it. Breathing in sharply through clenched teeth, he prodded the area, instantly yanking his hand away at the barbs of fire it produced into the skin. And, as the throbs and stings bounced across his face, he felt the weight of the pain killers in his pocket. Normally, he would have no issue taking a couple to take the edge off if nothing else, but giving the current predicament, he couldn't bring himself to do it. It didn't matter if it would help, and it didn't matter that Prompto wouldn't know, but he would know and there was no way he would be able to shake the guilt off.
He removed his glasses and set them aside, index and middle finger finding their way to massage lightly over sore eyes for a moment. Then, pulling them away, he turned on the faucet, turning it as cold as the tap allowed. And, cupping both hands, a splashed the frigid liquid over his face, the chill of it helping to numb the muffled hurt pulsing through. Carefully, he replaced his glasses, lowering them tentatively on his bridge. He left his face damp, not wanting to feel first hand what drying it off would feel like.
Ignis sighed out with another once over, knowing it was only going to look worse the next day, but that could wait; he cast his gaze away and flipped the light off on his way out. Stepping out, he found the other two to be in the same spots: Gladio sitting in his chair, arms crossed and staring at Prompto, a mix of betrayal and worry swirling in them. And Noctis, just finishing up repacking the gunner's belongings, zipping up the bag and setting it back to the side in its original place. Strolling by, he walked to the table, and pulled on of the chairs out to set it next to the bed and settle in it. Crossing one leg over the other, he went back to his earlier pass time of keeping an eye on the blond, still waiting for that first sign.
And, turns out he didn't have to wait long for the patience to pay off as a vulnerable and short groan escaped, his face twisting in terror when he turned back facing Ignis. Lids lifted to reveal dilated and frantic eyes, darting around in nonrecognition until the landed on the adviser, then the panic drained from them, and familiarity sunk in at the sight. "Iggy?" he slurred, still slightly out of it, "Wh-what are you doing?" He set the man with a look of bewilderment at seeing him so close, and sitting in a chair.
"That's what we should be asking?" Gladio was next to Ignis in a matter of seconds, his glare bearing as he looked down on the younger, and Prompto unintentionally shrunk under the weight of it. "Where were you going?" he wasted no time in getting to the point.
The blond blinked in pure puzzlement, his mouth opening and closing in a loss of what the man was asking. "What?" he finally asked. "I-I haven't gone anywhere," he laughed nervously, the sound being void of humor and jest. He pulled himself to sit up, scrutiny darting between the two of them. "Iggy?" he hinted for the backup, pleaded for some sort of verbal assistance. "What is he..." His face slowly fell when he just noticed the dark patch marring the man's face, "What happened?"
"You can't tell me you don't remember bashing his face with your head," Gladio scoffed, his nerves and composure getting away from him. "You can't sit there and tell me you don't remember acting like a damn madman, running off in the middle of the night!" His hand was out the side by the time he got it all out, breaths coming out deep and forced with his growing annoyance.
The look that fell over his face was nothing short of dazed terror, his head gradually moving from side to side in his denial of the happenings. "No," he stammered out, voice now lightly trembling, "No, I haven't done anything, I promise, I-"
"Prompto," Ignis spoke in his calm and collected way, chiming in as a nice change from the brute's interrogating ways, "Tell me, what's been going on with you?" He sounded genuinely curious, honestly wanting to hear his reasonings, if there were any. "Your behavior, the dreams, the mood swings, none of that has gone unnoticed, and I want to know what's been going on." Even though the inquiry was pure, there was still a hue of knowing, like a parent that knew their child had been up to no good, but giving them a chance to tell the truth.
Before he could even come to terms with what was happening, he felt a few sharp pains shoot through his neck and down his spine, a quiet whine leaving his lips. "B-before I start explaining, any chance I could take a couple...ya know, for this?"
Gladio's brows furrowed subtly, "No, isn't that the reason we're in this mess now?" he questioned incredulously, but the obvious confusion in those sky orbs had him questioning himself. "I'm gonna get right to the point." His tone was much softer now, "Have you been taking anything other than those pills?" He held his gaze locked onto the younger, forcing him to keep eye contact.
"Wha-? Why would I... no!" He slowly realized what was being inferred, "No, why would you think that?" He crawled over to sit on the edge of the bed, "Is that what this is all about? You think I'm some low-life addict..." he trailed off the accusation stinging a lot more than he would care to admit. "I may be a lot of things, but a druggie is not one," he nearly bit, his own anger riling up again, though not nearly as strong as it had been the previous night.
"If that's not the case, then how do you explain it all?" the shield fell back into his old and harsh way of getting information out; his voice gruff with controlled fuming. "Well?"
The blond's hands fell into his lap, thumbs running circles around themselves as he refused to look back at the towering man. For a moment he stayed like that, unsure of what was even going on himself; as far as he was concerned, it was only a bit of muscle pain and nightmares, but that was nothing too unusual. Both could be easily dismissed with stress, which surely they were all under. Prompto was pulled from his thoughts by the fingers that wrapped gently around his wrist, the contact calling for his attention. He glanced down, eyes wandering over the hand and landing on the cuff of his sleeve, watching it when the slightest movement caused the material to shift. There was no stifling the small gasp the sounded out, his gaze scanning over the subtle purple marks that looked suspiciously like fingers.
Without saying anything, lips slightly parted in realized shock, he used his other hand to pull the sleeve further back, his stomach churning with the sight of it. Before he could place his own hand over it, Ignis snatched the limb away and held it snug against his body, "Prompto, all we want to do is help, but we can't do that if you don't give us any information to go on." He folded his arms in his lap, placing the right under the left, effectively hiding it from sight.
He was still taken aback from the bruise, one that was awfully close in size to his own hand, that it took him a few seconds to process what was being asked of him. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say?" he confessed, subconsciously seeking out Noctis, momentarily forgetting his friend was there with the heat of the moment. He spotted him easily, the man standing somewhere behind the others and leaning against the wall. His own stare was off somewhere else as he listened to the conversation unfold. But, he felt the piercing and pleading gaze, and turned his head to meet it. "Noct?" he asked so many questions using only the one. 'What's going on?' 'What are they talking about?' and 'What have I done?'
Sensing the silent internal struggle, he stepped forward, not at all gently pushing by the shield, "Prom, there was something I wanted to ask you about, but I didn't know how I should ask, I guess." He took a deep breath, still unsure of how he should word things, "The other day, when I... found you in that room," the look on the gunner's face said he knew exactly where he was going with this, "you were terrified." His own brows knit closer together as he went on, "And you can't blame that on stress or any other bullshit. I know you, Prom, and that was pure and utter fear. What the hell happened before I got there?"
Those eyes were overflowing with awkward remembrances, images flashing behind them that brought forth his cast-aside horror. "I-I can't explain it," he swallowed hard against the dryness in his throat, voice quivering and stuttering, tripping over his tongue.
"Just try," Ignis' encouraging tone urged him on.
He looked between them; all three of them seemed to be listening intently, all eyes on him as they waited. There were no hints of disbelief and no signs of mocking, and with their acceptance in mind, he started the best way he could think of, "You guys remember that... painting?" he choked on the word, expecting them to roll their eyes or something at him bringing that up again, but nothing. They remained watchful until he felt comfortable enough to continue. "I think something's, I don't know... weird about it? I feel a bit nervous around it."
"That still doesn't explain why you were so terrified of me," Noctis stepped forward even closer.
Again, Prompto swallowed against his memories of it. "Right," he lightly chuckled, turning his eyes to stare down at the floor. "Remember when I said that I thought I heard you down there?" he cut his eyes up, looking for that nod of confirmation. "I really did hear you in there. Of course, you weren't, but I know– I know for a fact I did," his volume was steadily declining down to that of a whisper, the words struggling to reach the ears of the others, but they picked up on each and every one uttered. "I-I even saw you down there, y-you were right there, Noct, I could touch you and everything, but... but– it..." he choked on his words, entire body riddled with light tremors as things became more difficult to relay, "It wasn't you, it..."
"Prom," Noctis crouched down in front of him, "Why didn't you say something sooner?"
"I-I couldn't," Prompto shrunk a bit, at the tone, so laced with thin rage... but not towards him per se. "It felt unimportant compared to everything else; I thought it was nothing."
Ignis hummed at that response, pondering on it as he got back to his feet. "Well, I see we check it out then," he suggested simply. "If it is as you say, then it's in our best interest to deal with this should it be a legitimate danger to us, as well as other citizens." He didn't wait for any agreements, nor the opposite, and strolled straight towards the door. "Are you all coming, or do you plan on sitting there until the sun comes up?"
"You want to go now?" Gladio questioned, glancing out the window, "It's still dark out there."
"Of course," he replied plainly. "There will be too many people during the day, too much risk and too many opportunities for things to go sour. Not to mention, I'm fairly certain the authorities wouldn't appreciate us snooping around in a place such as that," he pushed his glasses up, knowing full well he made his point painfully crystal.
The brute mumbled incoherently, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'." He glanced back at the other two, "You heard the man, get yer asses up, we don't have much time before it's daylight." He waved his hand, the motion appearing to literally set the other two into functioning adults; both dipped their heads in a half-nod and hesitantly followed the others back outside. "This still seems a bit far-fetched," Gladio revealed, a quick glance at the blond catching the slight moment of shame. "But, I guess you wouldn't have a reason to lie... would you?"
The younger shot him a look, but said nothing to him and brushed by him in order to walk next to the adviser. His eyes instinctively drifted to the man's face, finding himself unable to look away; the guilt at actually harming someone he cared about was something he had hoped to never experience, but here he was, waist-deep in the scum of it all. "Iggy?" he finally spoke up, only looking away once the man gave him his attention. "I'm, uh, sorry about... that," he flicked his eyes in the direction of his nose.
"You were not in your right state of mind," Ignis sighed, flashing his gaze back forward, "Therefore, there is no need for apologies."
"It doesn't matter, it still shouldn't have happened; it's never happened before, I've never done anything that I didn't remember, so it doesn't matter one bit," he was biting his lip painfully by the end of his short ranting outburst. "I don't know why it happened."
He turned his head towards the hand on his shoulder, "Well, we're gonna find that out."
Prompto stopped at the top of the stairs, feet almost merging with the concrete, refusing to allow his body to go beyond that point. Ignis only made it halfway down before he noticed the absence next to him and glanced over his shoulder, falling directly on the blond's statuesque form, frozen in apprehension. "You can wait up there if you please," he changed his mind about encouraging him to come down, not wanting to force him to go any further after seeing the terror shine in his stare. "I just want to take another look around, so it won't take long," he turned back around and took those last few steps to the bottom.
"N-no, I'm coming," he forced out, almost dragging his right foot to place it on the next step down; it was a fairly small movement, but the will-power it took was almost unbelievable for him, and there were still quite a few to go from there, "Eventually."
He flinched, turning on his heel at the brush against his back, "Calm down, nothing's gonna happen to ya, alright?" Gladio attempted to lift some of his agitation and actually be somewhat understanding of the situation, "Just try to stick close." He quickly joined Ignis at the bottom, standing next to him as they now both patiently awaited for the others. Prompto watched down on them, fighting against the shaking in his legs long enough to take that next step, but even knowing the others were there should things descend to Hell again, he still struggled to make it down.
"It'll be fine," Noctis promised, stopping next to him. "Stay calm and don't think about it." Together, they managed to get down a couple more steps, then another, and gradually they ended up at the bottom. Prompto hadn't realized they were there until he finally took a look around. "See? Not so bad." Noctis shrugged, with a kind smile on his face.
The gunner shot his eyes around, seemingly a tad shocked at having made it down. "Heh, yeah, lemon squeezy," he chuckled out, standing up straighter and trying to appear at least a little bit more confident than he was. As he scanned the room, the other was aware of the way he avoided looking at the painting altogether; he never once even turned towards its general direction, his eyes strayed towards the bottoms of the walls and the floor.
"So," Gladio broke the relative silence, striding towards the artwork. "What's the big deal about this?" he gestured a hand towards it as he approached it, stopping a couple feet away from it. "Just looks like a woman to me," he shrugged. "And you said you saw... Noctis?" He looked over his shoulder to gaze at the other's profile, his head slightly tilted downward.
"Yeah," he nodded and lifted a finger towards the far corner, "Right over there."
All three of the others craned their heads to follow the direction and stared at it for a moment as if something would magically happen; it was Ignis who made the first move towards it, strolling over gracefully, he knelt down on the spot. "And you didn't see or hear anything else?" the man asked, still scanning over the spot.
Prompto shook his head, then remembered it couldn't be seen and vocalized the reply, "Not that I can think of, well nothing other than the crying I heard before coming down."
The strategist's ears pricked up at that, the recent memories of his soft sobs from the last two nights. It was nothing too major, but it did strike him as quite the odd occurrence... or coincidence. With that in mind, he stood back up and turned towards the canvas, staring at if for a moment as he tried to piece things together. "I'm not sure exactly what is going on, but I'm beginning to think what you're telling us is the truth," his own hairs stood on end when he got closer.
He felt like a weight had been lifted, though not the one he wished would go away as his aches kicked back up and his upper back throbbed fiercely. "Thanks," he whispered, relieved that someone at least gave him some credit. He cut his eyes over to Gladio with that thought, who wasn't even looking at him in return. Instead, he had a hand glancing over the paint strokes, inspecting it, Prompto supposed. As the brute's fingers brushed down the arm, the blond could have sworn he felt a light breeze run down his own. The sensation flooded his skin with goosebumps and made his blood run cold. "Did anyone else feel that?" he questioned, first bringing his eyes to Noctis.
"Like what?" his friend turned a worried eye on him, "I don't think I felt anything."
The blond rubbed his hand over the area, feeling nothing there, but to him, it still felt rather cold in the area, "I don't know, like wind, a breeze?"
The king shook his head slowly. "Nothing," he clarified. A noise of uneasiness sounded at his reply, and Prompto was back to darting his eyes around them, paranoia again setting in and he was just waiting for something to happen.
"Still sounds like a bunch of bull to me," the shield finally spoke up for the first time since climbing down. "No one else has seen or heard a damn thing," his fingers continued to prod at the image, and so far, it still felt like a normal painting to him. "Are you sure you actually seen and heard all that, or was it nothing more than your imagination? Or hallucinations?" His hand soon made its way to the face, sitting there for a few seconds before he turned to face the others. As he turned, he felt his nails graze over the stroke, a bit of it coming off and sticking underneath them.
He faced the others just as Prompto's right hand shot to his left cheek, a gasp of both surprise and pain slipping out. "What the hell?" he glanced towards that side of him to see nothing there. And, taking a quick feel over his cheek, he felt a sting from the small scratch that now resided there. In that moment, Gladio had forgotten what he was about to say, and he looked down to his hand, finding the flakes of dried paint stuck under his finger nails. And, in a second of genuine fear, he looked back to the painting, narrowing in on the scratch that marred the woman's face as well.
At last, the brute was at loss for words; no more snippy remarks, and no more under the table suspicions. This was all too weird for him to properly process and he could only stare at the face and the mark across it. His body took a single step back on its own, "Ignis? Have any explanation to this?" he asked once he was over his initial shock. He then looked back to Prompto, hand still on his cheek, and the same expression on his face that mirrored what Gladio was feeling: bewilderment, terror, and unshakable surprise. Ignis didn't answer right away, he was already on his way over to the other two, prying the blond's hand from his face to take a look at the minor wound. And, as he thought, it was nothing serious, but the fact that it seemingly came out of nowhere was enough to rattle anyone.
"Noct?" Ignis fixed a hunting stare on him, "When did you say Luna would be here?" His voice was unnaturally serious and coarse, a sound that did not befit the man by a long shot.
"I-I don't know?" His own fear was setting in now, mostly second hand from the unrest the others possessed, "It could be at least a few days? Why? What's going on?" He lightly grit his teeth in growing anxiety, everything slowly starting to blur together into one. "Specs?" he pressed when the other didn't reply.
Ignis removed his hand and cut his focus back over to the painting, watching it carefully; the longer he stared, the more disquieted he felt; there was definitely something wrong with this place, and that painting. "We should get back to our room," he spoke softly, forcefully turning Prompto around to start heading towards the stairs.
"What's going on?" the ushered man asked, resisting the push, desperate to know what was on the other's mind. "Ignis, please?" his voice cracked the lump. "Answer me!" That got the adviser to stop long enough for Prompto to leap away, heavy pants heaving his chest, "What the hell is wrong with me?"
He breathed out heavily, closing his eyes momentarily as he built up the courage to speak his new suspicion. "All I can say is, this is beyond us," he stated downheartedly, "This is something out of our skill set, and we need someone of her status to handle this." The silence that filled the air was all but pleasant, the direness of that simple revelation closing in tightly around their chests as they all slowly realized what that meant.
Prompto's breathing picked up in pace as what that entailed ran circles in his skull, making it impossible for him to focus on anything else. Everything hurt, not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. Breathing hurt, thinking was agony, and just being was pure torture to him in that moment. "Are you... are you saying that..." he had to stop when he felt bile rise in his throat. He placed a hand over his mouth, his head slowly moving from one side to the other. Afraid he was about to lose the strength to stand, he felt an arm wrap around him and support him; he glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Ignis right there, keeping him from collapsing into a puddle of misery.
"Don't worry," he spoke lowly. "I promise, we'll get this taken care of; this isn't something that can't be dealt with, alright?" All he got in return was light tremors, "Prompto, do you understand me?" This time he got a small nod, but it still appeared as though he weren't really listening, his gaze still blank and unfocused. "Everything will work out; Lunafreya will know what to do." He glanced up to meet Noctis' gaze, the same level of terror in his.