Ignis pulled up to Prompto's house and glanced in the rearview mirror.
Just as he expected, Noctis was sprawled out in the backseat sound asleep. Even with the thrill of the Darkhouse Comic Expo ahead of him, the young Prince hadn't been able to overcome his morning lethargy. He was absolutely hopeless.
And, of course, Prompto was nowhere to be seen.
"Gladio," Ignis could hear the tension in his own voice, and he took a deep breath, resolving to remedy his tone.
From the passenger seat, Gladio glanced over. "Yeah, what?"
"Would you please go to the house and retrieve Prompto? I had presumed he'd be waiting curbside for us, but that, apparently, is not the case."
A low grumble emitted from Gladio before he glared back at Noctis. For a moment, Ignis thought the Shield meant to wake the boy and make him go run the errand, but Gladio's expression softened.
"That kid sleeps too much…" Gladio muttered, opening the passenger side door and then hefting himself out of the car. "You know," he said, pausing to slam the door shut and look back at Ignis through the open window. "It's bad enough Noct has to drag us to this crowded, hyped up frenzy of an expo, but now we have to keep an eye on two flighty teens in a sea of distractions? This is not what I signed up for."
Ignis smirked. "Isn't it though?"
The ugly scowl Gladio gave was all the answer provided before he turned and strolled up to the Argentum residence.
Of course, Ignis shared some of Gladio's sentiments on this gathering – though he preferred not to vocalize them. As far as he was concerned, this was not an event the Advisor for the Prince should be attending. How was it a reasonable outing when he had far too many other more important matters to attend to? And yet Ignis endure this exasperatingly tiring comic expo every year…for Noctis.
Gladio's thunderous pounding on Prompto's front door abruptly broke Ignis from his thoughts.
Less than tactfully, as per usual, and I suppose I will be the one left to appease the neighbors when they are awoken.
In the backseat, probably roused by the noise, Noctis stirred.
"Where's Prompto?" The Prince asked as he groggily sat up.
"That," Ignis replied, "is precisely what Gladio and I would like to know. Have you been in contact with him this morning? I fear he might have overslept."
Noctis shrugged. "I tried texting, but he never replied."
That was odd. Prompto had rarely, if ever, gone more than a few minutes before responding to Noctis' texts. Something certainly felt…off.
"Prompto? Come on, kid. We're going to be late." Gladio hollered, "Get a move on. Don't want to keep his royal crabbiness waiting. He's had a hard morning of having to be awake."
Ignis watched Gladio shift his weight from one leg to the other as he glared at the door. The man's patience was obviously already wearing thin, and they still had a very long day ahead of them.
Oh Six, give me the strength to make it through this day…
"I'm going out there." Noctis had exited the car before his Advisor could react.
Begrudgingly, Ignis turned off the vehicle and pulled the keys from the ignition. Getting everyone into the car at the Citadel that morning had been a momentous struggle, and now it seemed as if he'd get that same pleasure all over again.
The most frustrating aspect of this endeavor was that he did not even desire to attend this accursed function, and yet he seemed to be the one trying the hardest to make this day a success.
They were already woefully behind on the itinerary he'd come up with for the day. Honestly, he didn't see how Noctis and Prompto had thought they were going to cram in all the events they had yammered on about throughout the last week – especially when they were so lackadaisical with sticking to schedules.
Well, it can't be helped now…
Exiting the car, Ignis made his way to the house, flinching slightly as Gladio pounded on the door once again.
"Prompto, hurry up…" Gladio turned his gaze toward his two companions. "Now what?"
"Did you hear anything inside?" Ignis asked.
"Nope, not a thing," Gladio replied and then looked to Noctis. "He's your friend. Why don't you try getting ahold of him?"
"I did try texting him already," Noctis huffed. "He didn't respond."
"Did you try actually calling him?" Gladio countered. "You know, in like dialing and using your voice? I know it's pretty old school, but it just might work." The Shield turned to Ignis. "This is Prompto's house, right? I haven't been pounding on the wrong door, have I?"
"I assure you, this is Prompto's dwelling." Ignis calmly answered. "I've dropped him off enough times to know."
Noct pulled out his cellphone and started fiddling with it.
From inside the house came a chorus of 'kwehs' that was unmistakably coming from Prompto's phone.
"I can hear your ringtone," Noctis raised his voice as he faced the door. "I know you are in there. Stop messing around and come on."
Ignis hadn't missed the concern and anxiety in the Prince's expression. Honestly, it was hard not to worry this point. This was all very unlike Prompto.
"If you don't open up this door, I'll have to break it down," Gladio added, "on the Prince's orders, of course."
Ignis arched a brow at the Shield.
A threat, really Gladio?
However, the tough act wasn't deceiving Ignis. The large man wore a slight frown, and his eyes sparkled with that brotherly worry he normally held strictly for Iris and, at times, Noctis.
Before anyone had the chance to resort to property damage, Ignis tried the doorknob. To his surprise, as he had hoped someone had at least bothered to see if the entrance was locked, the knob turned.
"Or," Ignis replied, giving Gladio a sharp glare as the door swung open. "We might just open the door and enter like rational people."
Gladio gave no answer, his eyes already scanning the front room of the Argentum's house.
Ignis did the same, quickly spotting the couch that was turned away from them and the few tuffs of blond hair hinting at the furniture's occupant. However, he felt no relief.
Why hadn't Prompto come to the door or answered his phone? Why would he remain on the couch, knowing that everyone was outside waiting for him? Surely he couldn't have slept through the racket Gladio had made.
Slowly, they made their way into the living room.
As they rounded the oversized couch, Ignis spotted Prompto's right leg first. It was stretched out, the knee, bloody and raw, peeking out from a large hole in the boy's jeans. The sight immediately had Ignis tensing.
The boy's left knee was injured in much the same fashion as his right, and as Ignis neared and was able to see more of the boy, he noted how Prompto cradled his left arm, and how splotches of blood and dirt decorated his t-shirt, pants and skin.
Crimson coated his elbows, the wound worse on the left arm, and there was a small cut under his left eye. A smudge of blood from the cut coated his left cheek – obviously from Prompto wiping his face.
Brilliant blue eyes, rimmed with red, peered up at the three. Ignis, noting the redness, was sure the boy had been crying at some point, but, with injuries such as these, he didn't blame the lad.
Through it all though, Prompto managed to plaster a pained, lopsided grin on his face. It made Ignis' heart break a little.
Nearly engulfed in the couch as he was, Prompto looked so small, so fragile. On a cushion beside the boy lay a cellphone. Its screen lit but terribly fractured, and Ignis had no doubt that the device was not functioning properly. Whatever had happened, the boy hadn't been able to call for assistance.
"What the…?" Gladio's voice was gruff, concerned.
Ignoring the Shield, Ignis stepped forward, lowering himself to one knee so that he could meet Prompto's gaze at an even level. Behind him, he knew Noctis was locked in place, watching, waiting. The Prince had never been great at dealing with bloodshed – not after that terrible incident in his childhood.
"Who did this to you?" Gladio growled, his tone sharper than was necessary, but Ignis knew it was merely the man's protective instinct surfacing.
The sudden, harsh laugh that erupted from Prompto was not the response Ignis had foreseen, and judging by the look of horror on Noctis and Gladio's faces, they had not been prepared for the outburst either.
That mirth that had unexpectedly flared to life in Prompto slowly dimmed, and his smile trembled before his mouth pulled itself into a tight frown.
"I fell off my bike…" The boy's voice was a hoarse whisper, his gaze lowered, shoulders drooping. "I'm s-sorry."
Fell off his bike? What in the name of the Six was Prompto doing riding a bike at this hour?
No, Ignis knew an interrogation at this point wouldn't help. Prompto was obviously hurt and shaken and there was no need to make him feel any worse at the moment. They could get their answers later, after he'd been properly tended.
"What were you…" Gladio started, but Ignis cut him off.
"Prompto," Ignis kept his voice soft but commanding, causing the blond to look up. "Do you have a first aid kit in the house?"
"Y-yeah…upstairs in the bathroom. It's the first door on the left."
Ignis nodded. "Noctis, go retrieve the kit for me."
It seemed to take moment for the Prince to register that he'd been given a task, but as soon as he did, he looked grateful for the guidance and started moving.
"Gladio would you…" Ignis began, but the sound of a truck in the roadway had Prompto abruptly sitting up, giving a hiss of pain at the movement.
"The disposal truck is here," Prompto groaned, moving as if he meant to get to his feet, but Ignis, placing a firm hand to the boy's chest, held him to the confines of the couch.
"You'll injure yourself further if you continue to walk around unassisted in this state," Ignis chided, hoping the statement would calm the blond, or at least bring him to his senses.
Prompto stilled, but his pleading gaze fixed on Gladio.
"Please, big guy, would you do me a solid? My neighbor, Clara, across the street, well…I bring in her bins for her, and if I don't get out there right away after the truck comes, she does it, but she's old, and she almost fell a while back, and I know it scared her, and…"
"Kid," Gladio held up a hand, the motion silencing Prompto. "I'm on it, okay? Just let Iggy take care of you. No more wiggling around."
The Shield's response seemed to have the desired effect on Prompto, as the blond relaxed back into the couch.
"Um, Gladio?" Prompto added, his voice sounding small, uncertain. "Could you, uh, you know, like button those top buttons on your shirt maybe, and try not to look so…so…scary?" The kid gave an apologetic, crooked grin as the Shield glared back at him. "Clara is just…old and alone, and you might be a bit much, you know?"
With a long drawn out huff, Gladio turned toward the door, his fingers working at the top buttons on his shirt.
"You owe me for this, kid," Gladio called back over his shoulder before he slipped out the door.
Prompto gave a content sigh, his smile shifting to the Advisor. It was still a tight, pained expression, but even so, Ignis felt a little better seeing the youth grin.
"I need to know what hurts." Ignis said quietly. "Start with the injuries causing the most discomfort, please."
The warmth and honest joy drained from Prompto's smile, so that he was once again left with a hollow, pained grin held forcefully in place.
"My leg…my right leg… I think it might be broken…near the ankle. It was tangled in my bike when I fell. And…my left arm…I must've used it to brace myself when I first hit the ground. It might be broken too. I can't move the fingers on my left arm without a lot of pain…and…I-I…um…" He paused at the reappearance of the Prince.
Noctis sprinted down the stairs and handed off the first aid kit. Taking the box, Ignis only hoped it was properly stocked.
"Thank you, Noct." He said, quickly opening the kit and starting to sort through the supplies. "Now, can you go up to Prompto's room and pack a bag? Make sure you get enough clothes to last him a week, and don't forget his toiletries as well."
No one moved, and Ignis could feel the heavy gaze of both of the boys on him. He took a moment from inventorying the first aid kit to glance up at them.
"Pack a bag?" Noctis asked.
"Enough clothes for a week?" Prompto whispered. "Why?"
"Noct…" Ignis caught the Prince's gaze. "Please?"
"Sure, Iggy. I'm on it." He paused though, eyes flickering over to Prompto.
"Just past the bathroom upstairs, it's the next door on the left," the blond offered, his smile tightening a bit further. "Try not to mess up my chaos. Okay, buddy?"
"I'll try." Noct replied as he made his way up the stairs and disappeared down the hall.
For a moment, the room was silent, save for the small sounds made by Ignis rummaging through the first aid kit. There were no potions in the kit, but that was to be expected. Few households could afford to keep the pricey potions on hand.
"Why is Noctis packing clothes for me?" Prompto asked, his voice no more than a weak whisper.
"When Gladio and Noctis return, we shall all go to the Citadel." Ignis looked up and, seeing that wash of uncertainty and fear in the boy's gaze, he realized that his formal, rigid tone was probably less than comforting. "There is a medical wing within the building," he added, carefully adding as much of a soothing quality as he could to his voice. "You'll be properly cared for there, and you can remain in the guest chambers until you've healed fully. Judging by the fact we found you sitting here in the dark this morning, I would hazard to guess your parents are still away on business. Am I correct in that assumption?"
Frowning, the blond nodded sadly.
"I need to know, do you have any further injuries, save for the arm and leg and visible wounds? Did you hit your head during the fall?" Ignis asked. Mentally, he was chastising himself for not inquiring earlier about a possible head wound.
"I lost a wing…" Prompto responded glumly, his gaze, distant and dull, was fixed on the floor in front of him.
Lost a wing?
Ignis frowned, pursing his lips, trying to decide if that was a definitive 'yes' or if it was some new slang the kids were using these days.
"On my helmet…" Prompto sputtered, as if he suddenly realized how ridiculous his lone statement had sounded. "It was on my Chocobo helmet. I must have hit my head, but I had my helmet on and…and so I just lost a wing, but my head is fine…I think."
Ignis nodded. "All the same, we'll have the medical staff give you a full examination when we get to the Citadel–just to be safe." He paused, a new realization striking him. "I've read your medical files. Your childhood was remarkably free of major accidents or illness. You've never been given a potion before, have you?"
Prompto shook his head.
"The process…" Ignis continued, "…for a patient's first treatment with a potion can be rather time consuming. Only small doses are given at first, to make sure a patient's body doesn't react badly. Few people have, in the past, had congenital birth defects or other disorders that sent them into shock as the potions tried to heal what could not be healed without first causing substantial damage."
Pausing, Ignis noted the way Prompto was biting his lower lip, and how the boy's brows were scrunched, his face pinched with worry.
"There is no need for concern." Ignis reassured him. "Only small doses are given at a time now for first time potion users, and you'll be monitored for any adverse reactions before a further dosage is administered. Plus, very few have any ill effects from using potions. This is all just precautionary. I dare say it would have been beneficial if your parents had scheduled a set of appointments for potion introduction when you were much younger. Most people have already undergone this treatment, so that if they are seriously injured, this is no longer a concern."
Though Prompto was obviously still struggling with some degree of trepidation, he appeared to be somewhat more at ease after Ignis' explanation. Satisfied that he'd managed to provide a minor degree of comfort, the Advisor turned his attention back to the medical supplies.
Finally, finding a pair of scissors in the kit, Ignis thanked the Six.
"Prompto," He waited until he had the boy's full attention. "I'm going to cut off the legs of your pants, just above the knees. I apologize, but it will make treating your injuries much easier."
A chuckle sounded. "Cool, I needed new shorts anyway."
A joke…of course…
"This won't hurt," Ignis said softly as he began cutting up Prompto's right pant leg, starting at the foot and following the seam. When he'd gotten to just above the knee, he repositioned the scissors and cut horizontally, until he'd looped all the way around Prompto's leg and the fabric came free.
With the denim removed, the extent of the injury to the leg was more apparent. The knee was a red oozing mess of blood and filth. Halfway down Prompto's shin, the flesh was red and purple, and his skin glistened with the tautness caused by the swelling. It looked remarkably painful.
"I'm going to take off your right shoe and sock," Ignis warned, "I will be as gentle as possible, but this will probably hurt."
Biting his lower lip, Prompto merely nodded.
With the utmost care, Ignis undid the boy's laces. He could hear the pained shuddering breaths Prompto took, but he kept his eye on his work. If he halted, if he looked up and glimpsed the expression of agony that was surely crossing Prompto's face, then he might not be able to do what was needed.
Laces undone, Ignis slid the shoe off, eliciting a yelp from the young man.
"Almost done…"Ignis whispered, though he wasn't sure if he meant that as a comfort more for Prompto or himself.
The sock came off easier, revealing a slightly purple, swollen foot.
Task complete, Ignis finally looked up.
Eyes drawn tightly shut, cheeks streaked with tears, Prompto sat hunched, silently cradling his left arm.
"Prompto?" Ignis leaned forward, reaching out an uncertain hand, not sure if he should risk touching the boy just yet, but the Advisor wanted so badly to offer some form of comfort.
"Y-yeah…" Prompto sniffled, and then he scrubbed his eyes with his right hand before looking up and giving Ignis a wretched grin. "I'm fine…it just…it was just…you know…but, I'm fine now."
I find that hard to believe.
Ignis reached over and careful settled a hand on Prompto's right shoulder, and, after seeing that the touch caused no pain or distress, he gave a soft, hopefully comforting, squeeze.
"I'm going to cut the other pant leg off." The Advisor said. "Is that okay? It won't hurt."
"Sure…" Prompto replied and gave a sickly sounding chuckle. "I-I dig a more s-symmetrical look anyway…."
Ignis sighed.
More jokes…
The second pant leg was removed easily, just as the first had been.
"I'm sorry…about the Darkhouse Expo." Prompto tried forcing a smile, but couldn't seem to manage it this time. "You guys could still go. Maybe you could just leave me at the Citadel and…"
"I highly doubt that will happen." Ignis felt badly for interrupting, but he would not let the boy continue with that train of thought. It was as if Prompto didn't realize how important he was to Noctis – and the rest of them. "Gladio and I don't entirely have a fondness for the expo, so we are hardly saddened that we shall be not be able to attend. Noct has gone every year since he was six. I dare say the event has become a bit boring even for him. His greatest excitement this year lay in the fact he was going to share this expo with you."
Prompto bowed his head and gave a soft sigh. "I'm sorry."
Ignis stood. "Accidents happen. The important thing now is to see that you are properly cared for. I'm going to the kitchen to retrieve some moist towels to clean your wounds and ice for the swelling. Will you be okay by yourself for a couple of minutes?"
A faint nod was the only answer given. It was a less than reassuring response, but Ignis felt it cruel to push the boy for more.
Still feeling hesitant, Ignis gave Prompto one last glance before he slipped into the kitchen.
He fumbled for a light switch, and after finding one, he surveyed his surroundings. The room was clean, decorated with the same tastes as the living room had been. Pictures, probably taken by Prompto, adorned all the walls. They had been painstakingly framed, and, though there was a lot, it didn't feel like an overload.
Ignis examined a few.
There was one of Prompto and his parents at an aquarium. They were making crazy faces as they stood in front of the octopus tank. Another was of Prompto's mother and father making snow angels, but they'd paused in the task to hold hands. Lying still, cheeks pink, grinning up at the photographer, they looked so happy.
Reminding himself of the urgency of his task, Ignis pulled himself away from the wall of photos and hurried to the refrigerator.
Regrettably, there was little ice to be found in the freezer. Actually, there was very little of anything to be found in the freezer. He retrieved a single tray of ice. It would hardly suffice, but it was better than nothing.
Curious, Ignis opened the refrigerator and peered inside. Besides the few meager condiments that were housed there, he found only a greasy takeout bag that had about ten french-fries in it.
Holding the single, partially filled ice tray in hand, Ignis closed the refrigerator and moved to the cupboards. He found only spices and single can of tomato paste.
Ignis' stomach turned.
How long?
He leaned his head against an open cupboard door, the bare shelves staring back at him.
How long had Prompto been living like this? How often has he gone to bed hungry?
Once again, he set himself into motion, starting his search for a plastic bag to put the ice in. His thoughts kept returning though to images of Prompto sitting alone in this house, hungry and tired. Meanwhile, the rest of them were at the Citadel, feasting. How had they not noticed? How had Ignis let this happen? He was supposed to know everything about Noctis' friends. How had he missed this?
Finding a small plastic bag, Ignis turned to the table to transfer the ice from the tray. He had just started the process when his gaze strayed to the papers spread out across the table.
One of the top pages was a loose piece of notebook paper covered with Prompto's scrawled handwriting. It held a series of simple math problems and short sentences. At first Ignis assumed it was some of the boy's homework, but, upon closer inspection, he realized most of the papers scattered around the single notebook page were bills.
Though he'd normally held disdain for invasions of privacy, such as reading another's mail, Ignis found it justified in this instance to investigate.
Picking up the notebook page, he frowned at the numbers and shorthanded explanations attached to each.
It was a breakdown of bills, grocery funds and money for the expo. Prompto listed paychecks from the diner and two separate paper routes, and he had carefully listed where those funds were to go. Most went to bills, a very small portion when to the expo, and an even more pitiful amount when to groceries.
Paper routes?
That was why the young man had been on his bike so early in the morning.
A hollow inescapable guilt settled over Ignis as he set the paper down. The memory came back to him of that pained look on Prompto's face the day the boy had overheard Gladio and he talking about how Noctis needed to curb his spending on his new friend – how it would be good to hold back to ensure Prompto was there for the right reasons.
All the while, this was what the boy was coming home to, and Prompto just kept smiling – kept trying so hard to appear as if nothing was wrong.
Rubbing his temple, Ignis let out one long, low sigh. He couldn't change what had been done and said in the past, but he was going to fix this. He was going to make things right.
Prompto sat on the couch, focusing on his breathing.
Slow, easy… in and out…
Ignis had been gone too long, and Noctis too had been upstairs a long time. A shiver ran through Prompto.
What were they doing? What did they find?
He felt too exposed with the guys here, wandering through his house. Heck, Noct was digging through his room, packing a bag for him, and that felt as awkward as all getup.
Great, now Noct is going to see the crazy amount of Chocobo boxers I own…
Still, Prompto found his embarrassment over Noct riffling through his possessions was dwarfed in comparison to the worry he felt over what Ignis had found in the kitchen.
Maybe he hadn't noticed the empty frig and cupboards? Maybe he missed the stack of bills on the table?
Prompto closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Exhaustion was overtaking him. His leg had a deeper, continual throb ever since Ignis took the shoe off, but there was a new tinging in the foot as well, as if the blood was flowing just a little better than it had been before.
"Hey."
Forcing his lids to open was harder than Prompto had thought it would be, and he felt a stab of panic at that. Tilting his head forward, he found Gladio looking down at him. There was a gentle, worried smile on the Shield's face as he crouched down in front of Prompto.
When did he get back?
"You okay?" Gladio asked.
Habit had Prompto opening his mouth, ready to spill out the stock answer of 'I'm fine,' but he caught himself, pausing to really consider the question. As the seconds slipped by and he remained silent, the strained smile melted from Gladio's face.
Tired, hungry, afraid…in pain…Prompto couldn't maintain his act any longer.
"No," he answered. "I'm not."