A big shout out to all those reading and those who have been kind enough to review. You rock! I'm back in school now and working full time...so...um...I'm going to keep up with this story, but, to get something new out each week, the chapters might be a bit shorter. Just be prepared! I'm thinking there are at least a couple more chapters to this piece, so it's certainly not quite over and done with yet! Enjoy!
Gladio was exhausted. The old woman had been a handful.
First, Clara had hurried out to the street corner, screaming at him for trying to steal her yard waste bins. She acted as if the blasted things were made of gold instead of hard plastic that smelled of moldy lawn clippings.
In fact, she'd managed to give Gladio a few good whacks with her cane before he choked out that he was a friend of Prompto's, and that the kid had sent him over to help her.
Even then, Clara kept her distance, scrutinizing him and keeping her little, black cane at the ready.
He'd barely managed to get the bins halfway to the house when she gave a loud, dramatic gasp. Apparently, she'd suddenly recognized him as the Shield to the Prince. Excitedly, she explained that she'd seen his picture in some newspaper articles.
And did that result in an apology for the cane strikes?
Nope. In fact, besides looking rather pleased with herself for recognizing him, Clara didn't seemed fazed at all by the discovery. The woman didn't care one blasted bit that she'd just struck the Shield to the Prince.
Actually, he kind of liked her more for that. She was a feisty old bird.
After setting the bins precisely where Clara instructed him to, Gladio turned to leave, but the old woman was quick to ask for his help changing a light in her kitchen. She'd get it herself, she said, but that meant getting on the stepstool, and it was so wobbly. Gladio, she noted, was so tall, he could probably reach the light without having to stand on anything.
One task, however, morphed into another and then another.
Gladio considered excusing himself, mentioning that he had an urgent matter to attend to, but he couldn't seem to draw himself away from the tasks Clara needed, and, honestly, Ignis had a much better bedside manner than he did. If the guys needed him, they could call.
A thread of guilt sprang to life, as he knew a part of him desperately wanted to avoid seeing Prompto in such pain. It was…too much, and Ignis really could handle the situation for a while.
Meanwhile, Clara prattled on, explaining that Prompto usually did these tasks for her when he came over, that she'd be lost without him. She had a lot to say about Prompto. It seemed she'd taken a real shine to the boy.
She spoke about how his parents were good people, but their passion for humanitarian work had them traveling too often. Her exact phrasing was something along the lines of 'they are bleeding hearts – out to fix the world and too busy doing such to see that they are needed at home.'
Clara shook her head sadly, saying that Prompto, for all his smiles and cheerfulness, had to be such a lonely boy.
In a rare moment when Gladio was able to chime in during the conversation, he mentioned that Prompto had become rather good friends with Prince Noctis, but Clara hardly seemed shocked.
"Hmph, well…good, I guess," she replied, "I just hope that prince fellow treats him well. Prompto is a good boy, and I'd hate to see him get hurt hanging around those wealthy, noble types."
Gladio nodded politely, and decided against admitting he, himself, might be lumped in that group.
It was then that she asked why Prompto hadn't come over that morning, and though Gladio was hesitant to upset her, he found that he didn't much want to lie to Clara. So, he told her that Prompto had fallen from his bike and was being patched up by the Prince's Advisor.
Clearly concerned, she was eager to offer help, but he was quick to turn her down, stating that Ignis had a lot of first aid training. Clara was rather silent after that and asked no more favors of him, other than that he tell Prompto that she was thinking of him and hoped he recovered quickly from his fall.
Just before Gladio left, the old woman slipped him a little metal tin.
He opened it to find half a dozen small, black, puckered cookies inside.
Gladio actually cringed at the thought of attempting to taste one, but Clara didn't seem to notice, and he was able to offer up his gratitude – only to have her frown and state the cookies weren't for him. They were for Prompto, and she muttered that Gladio had better not keep them for himself.
Then she scooted him outside, leaving him blinking in confusion on her front stoop as she offered a hasty 'thank you' for his help and then shut her door.
What an odd woman…
Carrying the tin back to the Argentum house, Gladio chuckled to himself as the cookies rolled and clattered in their case, sounding like an assortment of pebbles in an empty soup can.
He felt proud of the kid. It was odd to feel that way for someone he'd known for just a little over a month, but he did. Even with how busy he'd been, Prompto still found the time to help those around him. He just genuinely seemed to want to be helpful.
Gladio hadn't failed to notice how the kid always offered to help Ignis set a table or clear away dishes or help put away the training weapons at the end of their sessions.
Clara was right – Prompto was a good kid…
…and now he was hurt, and Gladio couldn't help but feel as if he were partly to blame for that.
If he and Ignis hadn't been so quick to put up walls, to be at the ready to sever any friendship that might negatively impact their Prince, perhaps Prompto wouldn't have been so afraid to ask for help. Just to prove he wasn't there for the benefits of befriending royalty, the poor kid had been working himself to exhaustion, afraid to speak up, afraid that Ignis and Gladio would turn him away.
Falling off a bike this early in the morning? Yeah, that had baffled Gladio briefly at first, and then he recalled Ignis mentioning the kid had a paper route. Of course, Prompto hadn't told them about it. They'd discovered it early on through Ignis' research on the boy, but, somehow, but Advisor and Shield had forgotten that Prompto was getting up at the crack of dawn each day for his paper route. That, coupled with school, training and working at the diner?
Six, how did the kid manage to keep going, let alone doing so with a smile?
Quietly, Gladio slipped back into Prompto's house, surprised to find only the blond in the front room.
Prompto had leaned back into the couch, his eyes closed, face pinched in pain. From just above the knee down, his pant legs had been removed along with his right shoe and sock. Gladio's attention fixed on the swollen, angry skin of the kid's right leg. It looked far worse than Gladio expected.
"Hey," he said, instantly regretting stirring Prompto from his stillness. It probably would have been far kinder to remain quiet, to let the boy rest a moment.
Prompto's eyelids weakly fluttered open, his gaze glossy and a bit dazed at first. He tilted his head forward and looked up at the Shield, but stayed silent.
Gladio crouched down in front of the couch, hoping that he seemed less intimidating no longer looming over the youth. He tried to plaster a smile on his face, for reassurance, but it felt forced and muddled with worry.
"You okay?" Gladio asked, though he knew, just from seeing the injuries, the kid was far from okay. Still, if he knew Prompto at all, he was sure the boy would try and downplay his hurt.
The blond opened his mouth, but still nothing came out. He looked uncertain, lost. His chin quivered ever so slightly.
"No," Prompto answered at last. "I'm not."
The answer hit Gladio like a weight. He felt it press him with guilt and worry, and he wanted to do something…anything, but there was no one to fight, no battle that needed winning, and Prompto…well…he wasn't Iris.
Gladio couldn't just scoop him up into his arms and offer him comfort. Part of him wanted to, but it wasn't his place – not yet. He didn't know the boy well enough for that. Still, he couldn't help but feel that Prompto needed someone there for him.
"Where are your parents?" The questions came out more abruptly than Gladio had intended. It almost had an accusatory factor to it that made the Shield cringe a bit. Honestly, it was an unfair question. Gladio pretty much knew the answer already. They would, undoubtedly, be away on business.
"How long have they been gone this time, Prompto?" Ignis asked softly as he entered the room. In his arms he carried a plastic bag full of ice cubes, a small pile of papers and a stack of wet dishcloths. "I see that you've been taking care of the bills yourself for some time now. That would be why you've taken on two paper routes and the job at the diner. Your parents, have you heard from them lately?"
Two paper routes?
Gladio frowned, his guilt growing by leaps and bounds.
His gaze turned downward, Prompto shook his head slowly. There was such stark sadness and misery painting the boy's expression. Gladio hadn't thought the usually chipper youth could even be capable of looking that dejected.
"They've been gone…like…three month now." Prompto paused, his breath catching, sounding as if he were fighting back tears. "I-I got a postcard from them a couple of weeks ago, but it was dated from a week before, so I h-haven't heard from t-them in a l-long time…" With his eyes squeezed shut and face pinched, big doleful tears began to quietly streak down his face. "I…I-I think s-something happened to t-them…they've n-never gone this l-long without calling…"
Ignis glided forward, setting his supplies aside, and Gladio shifted out of the Advisor's way. Honestly, he was relieved to have Iggy back. He was confounded as to how to offer the boy comfort in any way that wasn't extremely awkward.
"Hey," Ignis' voice was soft, and he placed a hand gently on Prompto's right shoulder. "It will be okay, alright? We will take care of you and investigate the whereabouts of your parents. They will be found. I promise."
Prompto gave a weak nod, sniffled and wiped the tears from his face.
"I…I'm sorry…" the boy muttered, "…for being so much trouble."
"Hey," Gladio said, careful to keep his tone gentle this time. "You have nothing to be sorry about, okay? We are the ones who should be sorry. We made you feel like you couldn't ask for help, but I need you know something." He paused and let out a deep sigh. Hell, he wished he was better at this kind of thing. "This right here, this isn't you trying to be greedy and gain anything by being Noct's friend. Needing help is different. I'm sorry we made you feel like it would be too much trouble for us to help you. That is not what we meant to do at all."
"We've grown quite fond of you," Ignis added, "and would consider you to be our friend as well, and it is a bit distressing to see you exhausted and in pain. If given the chance, we would have gladly given our support to you to keep this situation from happening."
"I'm sorry that we hadn't been better friends to you," Gladio continued. "Our duty to Noctis must always come first, but that doesn't mean we have to shut other people out altogether. We just forget that sometimes. Will you forgive us?"
Prompto was quiet for a long while, and Gladio, who'd been so sure the boy would forgive them, now doubted the outcome.
"Yeah…of course." Prompto's voice sounded so low and hoarse, but brightened as he added, "thank you!"
"Now," Ignis said, "Let's get you cleaned up a bit before Noctis comes back down. I believe he should be finished up packing shortly."
"Yeah," Gladio smirked, "unless he decided to take a nap."
Seriously, Noct should have been back by now…
Noctis felt badly for leaving Prompto when he was obviously in so much pain, but he was no good when it came to giving first aid. His brain refused to function properly when he saw others hurting, feeding him only memories of the pain and bloodshed from the accident that had almost crippled him in his youth. Though it shamed him greatly, he was relieved that Ignis had sent him away.
He pushed open the door to Prompto's room and smiled at what greeted him.
On the bed, sitting on a comforter with yellow feather print, was a large stuffed Chocobo. Prompto had obviously had the thing for a long time. It was a dull yellow, seemingly discolored with age. It had an odd expression on its face, as if it was both grinning and startled all at once.
On the walls, above the bed, there was a poster for a Chocobo ranch. The colorful image on the poster was of a Chocobo Chick standing on a bale of hay.
There were a few other posters adorning the walls. One was for King's Knight and another was for a band Prompto was particular fond of, although Noctis hadn't thought they were anything that special.
What really drew Noctis' attention though were the various corkboards on the walls. Each was filled with pictures.
The first one Noctis examined mainly had pictures of animals, flowers, insects, sunsets and sunrises. Each was interesting, and pleasing to the eye, but, for some reason, they reminded the Prince of Prompto, long ago, pudgy and quiet, wandering around with his camera clutched close to his chest.
He moved on to the next board. It was filled with snapshots of Prompto and his parents. His mother, with auburn hair and brilliant green eyes, looked so incredibly happy in each photo. Her smile was soft and tender, and, in one picture in particular, she was looking at Prompto with such an expression of love. It made Noctis' chest ache as he thought of his own mother and how much he missed having her in his life.
Prompto's father, skinny with ears that stuck out comically far, had the goofiest grin plastered across his face for almost every photo. He looked like a man that loved to laugh, and who loved to spend time with his family.
Noctis moved on to the last board. This one had far fewer photos, but they had been very carefully arranged.
These were of Ignis, Gladio, Noctis and Prompto. After a few weeks, Prompto had been allowed to take photos at the Citadel and when they went on outings. One of the stipulations had been that Ignis had to look through and approve each photo on Prompto's camera before the boy could leave with it.
Prompto had excitedly shown Noctis most of these photos on his camera right after he'd taken them, and Noct enjoyed being able to witness his friend's passion for his hobby, but he knew, standing before the pictures now, he hadn't fully appreciated what the blond was doing.
Seen together, as a whole, the pictures told the story of their friendship. The images captured were so pure, so wonderful. It was hard to appreciate them in moments just after they were taken, but now, the memories stirred by the photos were so warm and vivid in Noctis' head.
There was one of Noctis playing a game at the arcade. Prompto must have lain on the floor to get the angle just right. The look of pure concentration on Noctis' face made it clear that he had no idea the picture was being taken, and there was something so mesmerizing about the way the colorful artwork on the side of the arcade game, mixed with the dim room and harsh neon lights around them, played across the image. Noctis could almost hear the hubbub and clatter of the arcade, the excited shouts. He could almost smell the greasy pizza and popcorn.
Another photo, taken in the training room, had Gladio in the background posing with his broadsword, while Prompto was in the foreground, obviously struggling to get the angle of the selfie just right. The grin on Prompto's face was lopsided and strained, and the tilt of the image made it clear he was about to drop the camera.
Noct snorted out a quiet laugh as his gaze moved to the next image.
It was of Ignis standing over his oven, preparing one of their meals. Steam wafted up from one of the pans, delicately curling up around the Advisor's face as he stared thoughtfully down at the food. The image itself might have seemed simple, but Noct couldn't help but feel that Prompto had captured something special in that moment.
In that photo, he could see Ignis' dedication, his drive to reach perfection, his duty to care for others…and there was a hint of that exhaustion that sometimes clung to Ignis after a particularly long, tiring day.
Noctis moved on to the final picture on the board. It was of Prompto and him. He recalled when it was taken. Prom had talked Ignis into snapping the shot one day when the Advisor was picking them up after school.
They stood in front of Ignis' black car, with the school behind them. Prompto's arm was wrapped around Noctis' shoulder, and the blond had a goofy grin on his face. In fact, it kind of resembled the goofy grin his dad had in all his photos. Noct smiled at that thought.
In the picture, the Prince had his arms crossed. He remembered that he hadn't been entirely eager to pose for a photo with all their classmates swarming past, leaving school for the day. Making more of a spectacle out of himself than was necessary really wasn't something Noctis enjoyed, but if it was for Prompto…
He was smiling in the picture, but it was a small, half-hearted thing, and, looking back on it now, he regretted not trying harder for his friend.
"Guess we'll just have to get more pictures taken together in the future," Noct muttered to himself as he moved to Prompto's closet.
It didn't take him long to find a bag to pack Prompto's clothes in, and he carefully started choosing outfits that he knew Prompto favored. After shoving in a healthy amount of socks into the bag, he was a bit surprised to find the stupid amount of Chocobo boxers his friend owned. Yeah, he was certainly going to give the guy some grief about that later.
With the bag full, he was just about to leave the room when he paused, stepped toward the bed and snatched up the plush Chocobo. Then, he headed for the hall.
Prompto tried to keep as still and quiet as possible as Ignis tended to the wounds on his arms and legs. He was grateful that the Advisor had handed the ice pack over to him, allowing Prompto to gingerly ice his own swollen leg. There were a few areas far too tender to have any pressure applied, and he had not been looking forward to someone else haphazardly holding the pack to his throbbing leg.
Gladio left only briefly to check and make sure all the lights were off downstairs and that the house was properly locked up. When the Shield returned, he cast an annoyed glance at the stairs.
"Should I go get him?" he asked, but his question was immediately answered from a voice in the upstairs hall.
"I'm coming…" Noctis shouted. "…I just need to grab Prompto's bathroom stuff."
Prompto felt his cheeks warm as a flood of embarrassment shot through him. The guys shouldn't have to do all this for him. They shouldn't have to root through his clothes and wipe his bloody elbows. Of course, the embarrassment only grew as he spotted Noctis descending the stairs with Chirpy, Prompto's plush Chocobo, under his arm.
"What is that?" Gladio asked, brow quirked as he grinned at the stuffed toy.
Noctis looked down and shrugged. "I thought he might like to have it."
Gladio started to chuckle and Prompto just wanted to die, because…well, he did want Chirpy, and while he was embarrassed to see the plushie under the Prince's arm, he'd been a little relieved as well.
Prompto had spent been many lonely nights at home, in the dark, trying to coax himself to sleep without focusing on every little creak and groan of the house. It was hard not to be scared, not to let the loneliness swallow him up. Chirpy helped, and he knew he was probably too old for the stuff toy now, but…
Gladio's quiet laughter stopped suddenly, and Prompto glanced up to see Ignis giving the Shield an icy glare. For his part, Gladio gave an apologetic glance at Prompto.
Prompto smiled back. Sure, his feelings were a bit bruised, but he knew Gladio really didn't mean any harm, and it was kind of funny.
"Let's get you to the car," Ignis said, breaking up any remaining tension. "Can you stand?"
"Yeah," Prompto answered quickly, though, as he tried to get to his feet, he found his strength waning.
It was then that Gladio stepped forward.
"Gonna be easier if I help." He said, his eyes carefully surveying Prompto. "You good with that?"
Prompto hesitated and then nodded. He wasn't exactly sure if he was good with that.
"Okay," Gladio replied, "I'm going to pick you up nice and slowly, just let me know if we need to stop or I need to let you down."
Pick me up?!
Prompto's brain went into panic mode, so much so that he said nothing as Gladio went to his left side, cautiously looped an arm under his knees and another arm on his back, and slowly lifted.
There was pain, but not much. The big man was careful not to touch the damaged portions of Prompto's right leg or his left arm. Prompto kept his wounded arm tucked close, protecting it as he settled into Gladio's hold.
"You okay?" Gladio asked.
Prompto frowned. Nothing hurt too much, so yes? But he wasn't entirely enjoying being so tenderly scooped off the ground.
"Prompto?"
He blinked, realizing that everyone was staring at him now, their expressions laced with concern.
"Uh," he stammered, "I'm fine. I…I just haven't been picked up like this since I was really little. It's weird, and embarrassing."
Gladio laughed. "Heck, kid. Just last week I carried Noct to bed after he fell asleep in the locker room. So, I don't think you have too much to be embarrassed about."
"Hey!" Noct snapped. "That was a really hard training session you put me through that day. I couldn't keep my eyes open afterwards, so it was kinda your fault."
"Alright," Ignis' voice was raised, getting everyone's attention. "I believe we have everything we need. Dawdling will not help Prompto's recovery. Shall we go?"
There was a general consensus of hummed agreements, and as they started for the door, Prompto felt the stress of his situation start to fade.
He wasn't alone any longer. He didn't have to fix everything by himself. He had friends to help him. He had people who were going to take care of him. As that all sank in, he closed his eyes and smiled softly to himself, wondering how he got to be so lucky.