Ignis inventoried his ingredients. Everything seemed to be in order. He'd made sure there was enough for Noct, Gladio, Iris, himself and…

He sighed, knowing that Prompto wouldn't stay for dinner. The blond hadn't stayed with them for a proper evening meal at the Citadel in almost a week and a half, and yet Ignis couldn't help but make extra for the youth–just in case.

Setting to work chopping vegetables, the Prince's Advisor let his thoughts stray back to the young Argentum.

For the most part, Prompto had remained his jubilant, bubbly self, but Ignis had, as of late, noted a few subtle changes. His laugh wasn't quite as loud or as long as it once was, and he chimed in just a little less in conversations. Perhaps Ignis was mistaken, but he doubted it. His instincts were telling him something was amiss.

But Ignis hadn't had long to continue his ponderings before his solitude was broken.

Noct trudged into the dining area, alone. The Prince gave his Advisor one miserable glance before he slunk over to the table, yanked his history book out of his schoolbag and plopped down.

Pausing a moment, Ignis almost inquired as to how the evening training went, but he recognized that mood that hung over Noctis. Jaw clenched, brow furrowed, gaze threatening to bore a hole through whatever it set itself upon. The Prince needed time to compose himself and get his emotions in check. Ignis knew it would be for the best not to engage him quite yet.

Clearly, the training session with Gladio hadn't gone well.

For the next twenty minutes, Noct studied, or pretended to study, as Ignis continued cooking. The silence was uncomfortable–it had been so ever since Prompto started departing from their company so early in the evenings.

Ignis sighed, missing his days of peaceful, tranquil quiet, not this tense silence that felt weighted with loss and resentment. On second thought, perhaps the evenings with Prompto around hadn't been quiet, per say, but the ecstatic chatter, no matter how incessant, was better than this suffocating, anger laden silence.

Gladio, hair wet from his after-training shower, silently entered the room. His eyes darted from Ignis to Noctis.

The Prince looked up, steely wrath now directed fully at his Shield. Without a word, Noctis stood, snatched up his history book and schoolbag and stormed out of the dining area. Gladio watched with a weary gaze.

With Noctis gone, Ignis finally spoke. "I take it that something has His Highness in a foul mood. Perhaps, this has to do with Prompto?"

Gladio gave a low grumble as he sat down at the table. "My, you are perceptive. What could have possibly given away the fact that the little princess was mad at me again?"

Oh Astrals, this was going to be a difficult evening…

"What happened?" Ignis asked. He found it best, when Gladio was in a bitter mood, to keep his inquires as direct as possible.

"Prompto…" Gladio signed, closing his eyes for a moment as he leaned back in his chair. "He just…he did so well training that first day, and then he slowly got worse. His energy level keeps dipping. He's distracted, clumsy and…well…it started to feel dangerous to keep pushing him."

The impact of what Gladio was saying hit Ignis hard.

"So, you told him you couldn't train him any longer."

Gladio looked back at Ignis and nodded. "Yeah, I hadn't meant to tell him today. I know those two are excited about the Comic Expo tomorrow, and it was lousy timing on my part. It was just…Prompto slipped up so much today. He almost got himself hurt, like, seriously hurt, and…I reacted."

That would certainly explain Noctis' anger.

"What's done is done," Ignis turned back to his cooking, hoping to hide his disappointment. Without the after school training would Prompto come to the Citadel at all any longer? Had he and Gladio managed to strangle Noctis' new friendship?

"Noct argued with me like a madman. Kid would barely let me get a word in, so I made him leave." Gladio shrugged. "I get why he was mad, but I just…if Prompto can't give this his all…if he gets hurt, well, that would be on me."

Ignis gave a soft hum of agreement. He certainly didn't envy the position the Shield had been in that evening.

"He's got a job," Gladio said softly, "that's where he goes every day. That's why he leaves."

Ignis paused, his spatula hovering over his skillet. It made sense, and he had suspected that might be the case, but, still, the revelation surprised him. Why?

Gladio gave one sharp, joyless chuckle. "The kid has been going to school, training with Noct, and working. He's just tired. He came out and admitted it today–practically begged me to let him keep training if he quit his job."

There was a swell of relief flooding Ignis, but he held his emotions in check. "And what did you tell him?" He asked, praying that Gladio would give him an answer he wanted to hear.

Gladio made a slight scoffing sound. "What do you think I told him?" He paused, his voice softening. "I told him I'd be happy to keep training him, if he takes better care of himself…and maybe sticks around to eat dinner with us sometimes. I told him that we kinda miss him hanging around."

For once, Ignis didn't try to restrain or hide the smile that crept onto his visage. Turning to face Gladio, he gave a slight nod. "I'm pleased to hear that."

The Shield shifted uneasily and muttered something under his breath.

"I beg your pardon. What was that?" Ignis asked, smile widening.

"I'm not going soft!" Gladio growled. "Don't think this is a regular thing. I'm not going easy on anyone after this."

The Advisor's laugh seemed to honestly startle Gladio, and, after seeing that indignant look cross the Shield's face, Ignis stifled the sound.

"My apologies," Ignis offered. "I found it humorous that you would assume I'd take this kind act as you slipping into a more lenient, gentler role. After all, you are still tormenting Prince Noctis by keeping him uninformed of your agreement with Prompto."

Gladio gave a wicked grin. "Yeah, I hit my limit of nice for one day. Plus, Noct deserves this after going off on me at training. I'm sure he'll be texting Prompto soon enough and learning what went down. Then, maybe, he can feel like an idiot for a while."

Ah, yes, there was the typical Gladio…

With a smirk, Ignis turned back to his cooking, humming quietly to himself as he started plotting what to prepare for dinner next week–when Prompto would once again be joining them.

Noctis flopped onto his bed, letting his history book fall to the floor. It didn't matter. He hadn't planned on reading anymore anyways. Why should he? None of it was sticking. He'd scanned the same paragraph at least thirty times while he'd been sitting in the dining area listening to Ignis cook, but he couldn't retain a single thing.

The events of the evenings training surfaced again in Noctis' mind. Gladio had no right to make a decision like that without consulting Noctis first. Feeling his anger building once again, Noctis pulled out his phone and started texting.

Noctis: Hey

Prompto: Hey!

Noctis: I can't believe Gladio…He's such a jerk.

Prompto: ? Um….no?

Noctis: What?! Why no?

Prompto: Didn't he tell you? I'm still gonna train with you. I just have to quit my job at the diner.

Noctis: No, he didn't tell me, so he's still a jerk. Weren't you going to quit in few days anyways?

Prompto: Yeah. The diner owner's nephew is already working there now, so they really don't need me. They'll be fine, and Gladio's right, I've been a mess during training. I need to quit. Plus I've got enough spending cash saved up to have some fun at Darkhouse.

Noctis: Don't you dare tell Gladio he was right. That's all we'll hear about for days.

Prompto: Um…okay? But what if…I already did?

Noctis: Ugh…

Prompto: Almost to my bus stop. Last night of work! I'm so excited for Darkhouse! Since I know you'll be asleep by the end of my shift…Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow!

Noctis: Bright and early. You'd better be ready or I'll have Ignis start to blare on the car horn.

Prompto: Yeah, you just worry about dragging your own butt out of bed. I'll be fine! Night!

Noctis: Night.

Noct pocketed his phone and stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts wandering back to when he'd first learned of Prompto's job at the diner.

It had taken two whole days of Prompto's evening disappearances before Noctis had been able to pry the secret out of his friend. As reluctant as the blond had been to discuss the matter, Noctis' badgering coupled with his palatable tone of concern and distress seemed to have broken Prompto.

So, Prompto told Noctis of his job, of how he wanted to save up some money so he wasn't such a mooch.

Noct's reaction, now that he thought back on it, probably wasn't the support a friend should have offered.

Without hesitation, he told Prompto that taking on a job was stupid, that he didn't need to save up money, that it was enough just to train and hang out at the Citadel, but the blond disagreed.

Prompto merely laughed and said it was a normal thing for a teen to have a job, and that there was nothing wrong with a little extra hard work. Noct groaned at that. It sounded way too much like something Ignis and Gladio would've said.

Still, Prompto swore Noct to secrecy, though the Prince had been tempted to let the secret out. Had Ignis and Gladio known sooner, they may have put an end Prompto's tiring schedule. Then the Prince would have had his friend back in the evenings, but…

That would have been a breach of trust, and Noct couldn't bring himself to do it. Plus, there had been a quiet, reserved desperation and sadness when Prompto admitted to having the job. It had taken Noct a while to decipher that, to realize that his friend didn't have all the privileges that he had, and, for as much as it hurt, Noct had to accept that this was a part of life.

"Noct."

Startled, he sat up casting a glare at the door and finding Iris standing there. She stiffened, eyes going wide, nervous smile held in place. Seeing the young girl's hesitation, Noct softened his expression, offering her a small, but genuine smile.

"Ignis wanted me to tell you that dinner is done," she offered. "It smells really good."

"Thank you, Iris," he said, hauling himself off his bed. "It better not be all vegetables."

Iris grinned. "Is half vegetables okay?"

Noct grumbled and followed Iris into the hall, but, his grouchiness was all show this time. His intend, which he succeeded at , was to hear Iris easygoing laughter as they made their way to the kitchen.

Arriving at the diner, Prompto went straight to the owner, Billy.

A short, round and hairy man, Billy had a face with a resting expression of pure disgust, but, in reality, he was one of the kindest, honest and most caring guys Prompto had ever known.

"Uh, Billy?" Suddenly Prompto's mouth felt dry, and his heart started heavily thumping in his chest. He'd never quit a job before. Even if he was sure this would be amicable, he felt a tinge of fear. "I…um…I can't keep working at the diner. I'm sorry. I know I said I'd stay on through part of next week, but…"

A sharp laugh and Billy's hand gently slapping his shoulder made the blond go silent.

"Kid, you don't have anything to worry about, alright?" Billy smiled, his eyes squinting, twinkling with his gentle cheerfulness. "I can tell you've been working yourself to exhaustion, and I've got my nephew, Patrick, to help out now. You just take care of you, okay?"

Prompto grinned, but then a new worry settled over him. "Can I still work tonight? Is that okay?" He'd needed these last few hours to pad his paycheck up just enough to pay his water bill. If he lost this shift, he'd have to dip into the small pool of money he'd set aside for the Darkhouse Comic Expo.

"Kid," Billy laughed, "the staff would have my hide if I sent you away tonight. They all want to get in their goodbye razzing. We're gonna miss you around here. You'll have to stop by every once and a while and visit, okay? Get a piece of pie on the house and all–for old time's sake."

Prompto's facial muscles actually started to ache as they strained to support his beaming smile. "Thanks, Billy. You're the best!"

"Yeah, yeah," Billy chuckled, his tone gruff but playful. "Now, get to work. Those dishes aren't going to cart themselves to the kitchen."

In a flash, Prompto had donned his apron and was clearing tables. He fell into quick, easy snippets of conversation with the rest of the diner staff as he worked. He moved at a quick pace, clearing tables, washing dishes, cleaning, and, suddenly, his shift was over. The closing routine was finished, and the staff were saying their last goodbyes to Prompto as they slowly filed out.

"Here, kid," Billy said, shoving a wad of cash and a paper carryout sack into Prompto's hands. "It's your pay and something to eat." The man offered him a small crooked grin. "I made it myself. It's Billy's Special Chicken Burger and a large order of fries. I remember you saying you were going to that comic expo tomorrow, and I figured you should eat a good meal tonight…to get your strength up for all the fun you'll be having."

For a moment, Prompto stood, clutching the money and paper sack close to his chest, just staring at Billy. "I…I…don't…It's just…" Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and found the words he wanted to say. He looked back at Billy. "Thank you. Thank you for being so kind, for giving me a chance and helping me out. I appreciate all of that, and…and…I really liked working here."

Billy chuckled softly. "Hey, if you're ever looking for work again, come see me, okay? But maybe not for shifts every night while you're in school, yeah? I'd hate to see you wearing yourself down again. Now, go on, I gotta lock up and get home to the old ball and chain."

After uttering one last goodbye,Prompto turned and headed out the door.

There was a strange stir of emotions surfacing in the young man. He both wanted to quit and didn't. Already he knew he would miss the jovial banter and sense of teamwork he had become so accustomed to at the diner. He liked feeling included, useful, and needed.

Ultimately though, he knew quitting was the right choice. Prompto had been considering it for days now. His grades had been suffering. He'd become a wreck at training. He wasn't getting to see Noctis as much, and there was this fog of sleep deprivation that had started to cloud his thoughts, making the world around him a bit hazy.

In the dusky light of the evening, just at the streetlights were flickering on, Prompto stopped at this neighbor's house. From her living room window, Clara smiled and waved, and he was quick to return the gesture before setting to work hauling her yard waste bins out to the curb.

It had taken some finagling, but he'd managed to convince Clara to leave the bins for him to haul if she would help him mend his school uniforms. Unfortunately, she was still a bit stubborn about trying to haul the empty bins in after the morning pick up, so he had to be diligent about getting to them before she did. Usually, that wasn't an issue. He normally was just finishing up his paper routes when the truck was pulling up to their block. There were only a couple of times his timing had been off and she'd hauled the bins herself.

Finishing his task, he gave Clara one final wave before scooping up his bag of food and heading for his house.

Lost in thought, he made his way inside to the kitchen and sat down to eat. He could feel the warm pull of exhaustion begging him to head toward his bed, but the angry growl from his stomach had barely managed to keep him from doing so.

Munching away on fries, he shuffled through the bills spread out across the table. It was getting harder to keep up with them. If his parents didn't come home soon, he'd have to make some decisions on which bills to pay and which to risk.

In reality, he shouldn't have been taking any of his funds to the comic expo, but he reasoned that it would look too odd if he couldn't at least pay for his lunch. After all, the guys knew he'd been working at the diner. They would certainly find it odd if he had nothing to show for it. At least none of them knew about his paper routes though.

He continued eating, finishing off the chicken burger but saving some of the fries. He put the leftover fries into the refrigerator. There wasn't a lot left, but at least it would be something for breakfast.

Prompto paused, peering into the frig. The harsh light of the appliance illuminated the few bottle of condiments and the single bag of fries. It looked absolutely pitiful.

With a sigh, he shut the door and started shuffling for the stairs. His stomach was in knots. It hadn't been the meal. He knew that. What he felt was the twist of worry and panic that had been following him for the past couple of weeks.

His parents should have called by now. They traveled a lot, but they had never been his absent before. Something felt wrong, but there was nothing he could do. He just had to wait and hope they'd call soon, but this helplessness felt crushing.

Hoping to distract himself, Prompto played half an hour of video games after he'd changed into his pajamas. His body ached and his eyelids felt weighted, but his mind kept racing, worrying, and filling itself with 'what ifs.'

Eventually, he turned off his game and stumbled to bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit his pillow.

He dreamt of Chocobos–millions of Chocobos, but they were small, only coming up to his waist when they stood.

And they were adorable!

Standing in the sea of yellow feathered creatures, Prompto would scoop one up, pet it gently and laugh at each tiny 'kewh' the miniature bird uttered.

Suddenly, a giant Chocobo appeared. Its squawk was a loud, grating sound that made Prompto flinch. He grimaced up at the beast, but it continued to open its beak, letting out a repetitive series of horribly sharp 'kewhs.'

Prompto tried to calm the bird, to get it to quiet, but it ignored him.

Then, Prompto woke. His mind fuzzily trying to figure out where the giant Chocobo was, until he realized the horrible squawk was coming from his phone.

It was his alarm.

A shiver of panic ran through him as he pawed his phone off his nightstand. One glance and he knew he'd messed up. It'd been going off for over half an hour. He was late.

Leaping out of bed, he changed into the first outfit he could pull together–a pair of jeans and a dirty, blue t-shirt, and then he sprinted down the stairs. There wasn't time for breakfast. He could eat when he got back from the paper route. He only hoped he'd have time to shower and change as well.

He locked up the house and got his bike out of the shed. The last thing he grabbed was his yellow Chocobo helmet. It was a goofy thing, with tiny wing fins on the side, and Prompto knew his tuffs of blond hair sticking out only made it more comical, but he loved it nonetheless.

After putting on his helmet, he jumped on his bike and raced down the road. It was still fairly dark out. The eastern horizon was just barely aglow with hints of the coming dawn.

Prompto skidded to a halt at the designated meeting corner for the paper boys. His pile of papers was all that greeted him. Everyone else must have made their pick-ups already.

He loaded up his satchels, trying not to stagger under the weight, and then he mounted his bike again. Once he had a feel for the balance he needed with the added papers, he took off.

Legs pumping, heart pounding, Prompto flew through his first route. By the second, he was struggling. His muscles burned, his breath was strained and sharp. He'd never pushed himself this hard, but it wasn't like he had much choice. He had to make it back home to get cleaned up before Noct and the others arrived to pick him up.

He pushed on, his brain functioning on autopilot as he moved through the familiar route. The satchels were light now, almost empty. Prompto smiled to himself. There were only three houses left. He had made excellent time. He would be able to get in a shower and…

Turning a corner, his front wheel hit a loose patch of gravel and the world became a blur. Suddenly, there was only confusion and pain.