WHAT. Noct wallows in his failure to save Gladio using his magic ring, Prompto patches him up WHERE. the Outpost WHEN. Sometime after October 2029 WARNINGS. blood/injury STATUS. status
Despite all his pessimism, Noctis never expected to be in this position. Gladio was well and truly a thrall and the one thing Noctis thought could save him hadn't worked. It hadn't worked. There was a bloody gash over his eyebrow and another deeper one across his clavicle, but he only had eyes for his ring. His worthless legacy. He ripped it off his finger and threw it to the floor.
The Outpost was a bustle of cramped activity, but he'd found a quiet corner to lick his wounds. Not literally. There was a first aid kit open on a makeshift table to his right and he was sitting on a foot locker. The stack of supply boxes to his left worked as a sort of privacy shield, even if they could still hear everyone around them.
Noct dropped his face into his hands, ignoring the sting of his fingertips making contact with the wound there. "I failed. The one time he really needed me and I failed. I guess I shouldn't be surprised."
Prompto wasn't afraid to admit that he thought today he would lose another one of his loves. Noctis hadn't exactly given them the chance to vote on his plan to try and cure Gladio, only giving them just enough time to prepare for whatever might happen in case things went wrong, but not enough time to stop him from trying.
Despite the failure of it, Prompto wasn't mad about it. All three of them had made attempts to try and get through to Gladio, to no success. There was not a single part of him that wouldn't have tried the same if he had the opportunity and means. So when Noctis separated from them to go and lick his wounds, he had let him and went off to go check over Ignis instead. And once they had both been satisfied with checking each other over, Ignis went off to go check in with the rest of the current leaders, while Prompto finally went to find Noct.
He would let him wallow, but definitely not indefinitely.
“Well, that’s very emo of you,” Prompto quipped, as he appeared around the makeshift wall and plopped down on a beat up foot locker of his own. “Kind of starting to sound like me now.” The months after Gladio’s thralling, Prompto had become withdrawn and sullen. Even now, he was only a shadow of his former sunshiny self, but that’s what happened when you lost loved ones left and right and felt responsible for a couple of them. Still, he was better than he had been in the immediate aftermath of losing Gladio, and he could be strong for Noctis now if he needed it.
Noct tensed for a second, until he realized it was Prompto. There was still tension in his shoulders, but it was more about the fading adrenaline and feeling of failure than his husband's presence. He did expect to get an earful though. If not from Prompto, then from Ignis later. He'd earned it, but he wasn' looking forward to it.
"I got called emo long before you, Prom," he mumbled, aiming for humor and falling flat. "Get your own vibe." He wished Prompto still had reason to be the high energy geek that he'd fallen in love with. It didn't make his feelings less, of course. It just made him sad. He dropped his hand away from his face, leaving a smear of his blood down his cheek. He waited a long moment in silence before he sighed.
"Sorry." His shoulders sagged. "It should've worked."
When they had gotten married all those years ago, it had been for better or for worse. They were certainly in their ‘for worse’ era, but they hadn’t lost everything yet. They still had each other. And that’s the only reason that Prompto hadn’t ceased to function. He still had Noctis and Ignis to worry over and care for, as well as vice versa. And that was what he had to remind himself of each time he thought too hard about Gladio still being out there, but also being so far out of their reach like today proved yet again.
“You don’t have to say sorry to me about that,” Prompto said, stopping himself from reaching over and telling himself to let Noctis make the first move. Space was important, but he didn’t make himself unavailable to touch, as he leaned back and opened himself up to a more welcoming pose. “I would like an apology for the fucking awful timing of it all though. Maybe more than a minute of warning the next time you try something like this? Just so we can figure out how to best support you?” It was said almost easily, but for those that knew him - and Noctis fell to the top of that particular list - you could tell he was upset by it. A little more quietly, he explained, “I can’t lose you too.”
Noct caved in on himself a little more, regret etched across his face. "I know. I'm sorry." This apology sounded heavier and less about his own selfishness. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Prompto's shoulder, fisting his hands into his husband's shirt. "I just…I didn't want to think about it, I just wanted to get it done. Every minute he's out there feels like a thousand. What if that bastard starts killing off thralls just to make a point? What if he turns them on each other for sport? What if--"
He knew ranting wasn't going to help. He took a shuddering breath, sadness and pain tangled up in the sound. His arms slinked around Prompto's middle and he curled in closer. He wasn't sure he really deserved a hug right now, but he needed one, and he knew Prompto was still too kind hearted to refuse him.
"It should've worked," Noct muttered. "Maybe if we had Blue's amplification…" That was a risky thought, but it wormed into his heart and wouldn't let go.
Prompto didn’t stop him when he started to get going. This was a rant that they all knew too well. Even now, with their mental link quieter because of the necessity of it, they all shared the same thoughts when it came to the what ifs of this whole situation. It was why they sometimes got reckless like this, each of them taking a turn at being stupid as hell and trying to reach out to Gladio in hopes that this time we’ll get through to him. This time we’ll bring him back.
It hasn’t happened yet, but Prompto wouldn’t begrudge Noctis the feelings that came with this failure. This wasn’t their first close call and it probably wouldn’t be their last. But within the safety of the Outpost, Prompto let him spiral because they could afford it. So he wrapped his arms around Noctis as he burrowed in closer and comforted himself in the knowledge that the worst outcome possible didn’t happen today. Noct was still here. Spiraling a bit, but better out than suppressing these feelings. And sometimes spiraling brought up new ideas, though this one sounded dangerously close to a bad one.
“Let’s pin that for now?” Prompto asked, instead of trying to shut it down right away. He had somehow managed to learn a little diplomacy from Ignis over the years and called upon those skills now. “We need to approach it with a lot more prep, but the first step is to regroup in this moment and then talk it out when we’re not hurting so much.” Because even if Prompto sounded put together about this, he needed a bit of time to break down over this too, but not until Noctis was okay first.
Noct scowled and pulled back a bit. It was fair, of course. And he knew he was going to have to look Ignis in the eyes and apologize to him too before he'd even remotely deserve forgiveness from either of them, but it stung to hear Prompto's words anyway.
"Okay," he said weakly, dropping his arms away to reach for a tshirt nearby. His hands shook. He used the fabric to wipe blood from his hands. "I got blood on you. Sorry. Can you uh, help me clean these cuts up?" The clavicle wound would probably require stitches. Ignis was still the better one with a needle, but they'd all had time and opportunity to improve over the last few years. "Or could you hold up a mirror or something? I don't want to find Ignis looking like this."
Prompto felt the shift in Noctis’ mood. The man had never been good at hiding his feelings in the first place and as they got older together, Prompto could feel the minute shifts in his husbands’ moods. It was no different now and almost too easy to sense it, when Noctis wasn’t bothering to hide it with any manner of finesse.
Instead of confronting him directly, he let Noctis change the subject for the moment and reached for their first aid kit. “You’re shaking. So if it’s alright with you, I’ll do it?” He posed it as a question, but he was already getting the disinfectant out while reaching for what he hoped was a cleanish t-shirt to wipe up the site of Noctis’ main wound. All of them had various scars and injuries from years of wartime, but it was never easy seeing one that their thralled husband put on them. Prompto blinked away that pain, as he brushed a kiss to the back of Noctis’ shoulder, before pressing the disinfectant to the wound. To distract from that pain, he started to talk again.
“Thank you for apologizing, but we’re not really angry about this, you get that right? We want him out of this as much as you do, but if the cost is losing you too, you know what Gladio would say about that. What any of us think about that.” Those terrible dark years where Noctis was in the crystal came back to Prompto. “Let us help you when you get an idea. Because when we got married, that’s what we signed up for. A team effort, in all parts of our lives.”
Noct was uncharacteristically docile, through a combination of shame and Prompto's soothing touch. Even the sting of the disinfectant didn't cause more than a wince around his eyes and mouth. He reached up and touched Prompto's fingertips where they rested as a brace on Noctis's shoulder. It felt centering, just having that touch as brief as it was.
"I know, Prom. It's not--I wouldn't blame you for being angry I didn't talk to you first. Or if you were angry that I risked us all and it failed. I thought about going out there alone but I swear it was only for a second. I knew you guys would never forgive me and I couldn't bear that." He blew out a breath, tired and pliant still under Prompto's ministrations. "I love you. I'll do better." He grimaced petulantly. "I'll try to do better."
The little laugh that escaped Prompto when Noctis corrected himself to a more reasonable expectation of his promise, was genuine. "We've been together for far too long for me to get angry at you for being…well, you. I'm just glad you looped us in at all, let's be honest," he explained, as he started to stitch up Noct's wound. "Besides, I'd be a hypocrite to be upset at you for doing something we've all done by now." A little sadder. "I can't get mad at you for wanting to get our husband back."
And a traitorous little voice in his head reminded him, 'The husband you failed,' but he didn't think too hard about that. Right now it was about Noctis, not his own self pity.
Noct hissed between his teeth as Prompto got to work, but this was old enough news now that the discomfort was easy enough to set aside. It was hardly the worst thing he was feeling right now anyway. He watched Prompto’s face instead. That was a much better feeling.
“We’ll get him back,” he promised, not for the first time. He might’ve been trying to convince himself still, but for Prompto’s sake he could have more conviction. “He wouldn’t stop until he got one of us back and we won’t stop until we get him back.” Grabbing Prompto by the hips, Noct pulled him in between his knees as he sat down on a stack of boxes. It wasn’t the most comfortable surgery “bed”, but it would do. And it kept Prompto close so Noct could stare up at him with softening eyes. “You want to take a nap with me after this? I mean, after I grovel to Specs, that is.”
“We’ll get him back some day,” Prompto agreed, saying the words more for Noctis’ sake than any real belief. It was hard to keep up that attitude, when they had failed so many times before. Still, he knew none of them would ever stop trying in hopes that something would work out.
When Prompto had a good stopping point, he paused to give Noct another softer smile. “I’d like nothing more than to take a nap with you.” It was never a bad day if he got to spend it with one of his loves. Especially after such a draining day. He could put aside his grief for a good cuddle. Reaching over, he pressed a kiss to Noctis’ lips, keeping it almost innocent, if it hadn’t been for the way he bit Noct’s bottom lip when he pulled back. “But we’ll see if you’re still alive after Igs gets done with you.” He wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. There was a good chance that Ignis would yell in his own, quietly angry way.
Noct hummed his interest into the kiss, the pain of the stitches easily forgotten. The pain in his heart wasn't so easy, but Prompto's care was soothing. A cushion around the damage to keep him going another day. He gave Prompto another kiss and then stood, looking for the fresh bandage roll.
"Let's be honest, he's forgiven me for worse." He'd mistreated Ignis when he was young, with no noble purpose to excuse his behavior. He'd mistreated them all at one point or another. And yet, here they were, his husbands and his best friends. He'd do worse than upset two of them to save the third. He gave Prompto one end of the bandage roll and started spinning in a slow circle to wrap the material up over his clavicle and shoulder and down under his opposite arm. Once that was done and secure, he tucked everything back into the first aid kit and took Prompto's hand.
"Come on. Let's find him before he starts stress cooking canned beans."