gladiolus amicitia (cupnoods) wrote in valloic, @ 2023-03-30 09:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ~plot: future vallo, ₴ inactive: gladio amicitia, ₴ inactive: prompto argentum (2) |
2033 LOG
The initial tears and hugs when Gladio had come through to their timeline had been a few days ago, but it still felt completely unreal to Prompto. His Gladio had gone down fighting to save his life. A thrall because Prompto couldn’t protect himself. And the guilt over the whole situation was still present every day in him, even all these years later, because their Gladio was still out there. Unable to feel free will and come back to them, happy and whole. And seeing this fresh faced Gladio, untouched by this new war that they found themselves in, was just a reminder of how he had failed the loves of his life.
It was hell.
These past few days he had been making sure to stay busy, keeping himself occupied with missions and looking after the chocobos with Talcott. It wasn’t that he was actively trying to avoid the younger Gladio, but seeing him hurt. So it was simply easier to keep a distance from him.
Except Gladio, any version of him, knew him too well and found him in a quiet little corner of the Outpost one night after the planning meetings were over for the day and everyone had a bit of downtime before bed. Prompto looked startled, when he looked up at the shadow that crossed over him. It was Gladio, as he came forward to sit next to him on what passed for his bed. “Oh…hey big guy,” he said, pasting on a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes, as he put away the book he had been reading. It was something borrowed from Morpheus’ little library, that he needed to return soon. “You need something?”
Gladio hadn't really been sure what to expect when he'd been told he was on a list to go to the future. Sure he'd been told that a version of him did still exist but wasn't… all there. He'd been told things were bad. But being told and seeing were two very different things. It wasn't his first rodeo to bad of course, those years of darkness he'd lived through before showing up in Vallo had been awful. And they'd been separated then too, something Gladio didn't like seeing becoming a pattern.
He tried though, to take some solace in that at least Noctis, Ignis, and Promtpo seemed to be keeping better together than he, Ignis, and Prompto had. It just sucked they'd learned the hard way they were better together.
It'd been a bit of a whirlwind with everything and as much as Gladio longed to just try to give as much comfort to the men he loved, there was a bigger task at hand. Saving everyone. Still though, it wasn't hard to pick up that Prompto was… well, being a little avoidant. And even if Gladio knew there was history there he didn't have, and maybe never would, Prompto was still Prompto. He wanted to make it right.
He sunk onto the bed beside Prompto. "I just - thought we could talk for a minute?" he started, never one to beat around the bush. He let out a slow breath and reached to take Prompto's hand, lacing their fingers together. "Are you okay, Prom?" A pause. "I know, it's not, well nothing about this is okay," he clarified. "But just, outside of that, you know?" Because it was pretty clear something was bugging Prompto, more than the general state of things.
How do you tell the man that you loved that you were the reason why they had lost him? It didn't matter that this Gladio wasn't theirs, technically. Any version of Gladio was theirs, younger, older, thralled or not. And it felt like torture, looking at him now and holding his hand. Six, he was so undeserving of this open kindness and concern coming from this man.
It didn't matter what Noctis or Ignis said. The guilt was all too consuming and he didn't need to put his shit on the man in front of him.
He put on a brittle smile, trying to pass for the carefree man Gladio probably remembered from his own time. "Oh, you know. Nothing a long hot bubble bath couldn't cure." He tried for a laugh that felt as strange as it sounded. "But you know what they say. Good luck trying to get a bath in the apocalypse." An obvious non answer at its finest.
It was like looking through a window to the past really. The attempt at a smile, the deflection. A painful reminder of the Prompto that Gladio had known in their years in the dark. Before Vallo, before everything got better. And it wasn't' the first time he felt the sharp pang of knowing the "better" hadn't lasted for them in this time. He hated it. Just like he hated that even if they managed to pull through it still wouldn't be the same. The damage was done. The people he loved here would never be the people he loved back in his time again.
"I don't know, I saw some pretty decent sized barrels kicking around," he offered, with a tight smile of his own.
He was quiet for a moment and let out a slow breath before giving Prompto's hand a squeeze. "I know I'm not - the Gladio who went through all of this hell with you guys," well, at least until that Gladio wasn't in his right mind. "But it's still us, you know? You're still you, I'm still me - whatever's bugging you, Prom? I'm here, I'll listen."
The Astrals must love laughing at him because this was exactly the kind of torture he would design for himself, if Lucifer’s Hell still existed in Vallo. Getting back a younger, shinier, less tortured version of the man he had let down in the worst way possible, except all he could see was the thralled, emotionless Gladio that belonged to Interitus now.
Fuck his life.
He was staring too long at Gladio, he knew that as he felt tears prickling at his eyes. Gladio was being nothing but kind and feeling that love from him should have been a balm. Instead, it felt like he was raking his feet over shards of broken glass. "Did anyone tell you how we lost our Gladio?" He asked, his voice a rough whisper full of emotion he was trying to repress.
The pieces started to click in a little there. And while Gladio couldn't be a hundred percent sure, he knew Prompto enough for the idea that something happened that Prompto was now blaming himself for to take hold. He hated it. Whatever happened, he knew it wasn't Prompto's fault, how could it be. But here was Prom, clearly torn up over the situation.
He shook his head softly. "No - no one's given me the details, just that it happened." Which at the time had seemed enough. But now, he wasn't sure about that.
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
He figured that Noctis and Ignis were trying to protect Gladio from the truth. Or just trying to move on, by not bringing up the past anymore. But Prompto could remember the screams as Interitus took their beloved Gladio over.
All because of him.
Prompto looked away, eyes landing on their joined hands. He squeezed Gladio's, as he started to recount the day. "It was the Battle for the Quarry. We didn't know that Interitus was capable of thralling people yet. Up until then, everyone he and his forces got his hands on were either snapped away or killed. I was distracted during the fight. I had seen a friend get snapped away and wasn't paying attention behind me. But you…you stepped in before I could be hurt or worse." He closed his eyes, as tears started to escape him.
"But instead of Interitus getting me, he got you. Then you turned on me, but I knew when I looked into those eyes that it wasn’t you in control anymore. I didn't accept it though. If it wasn't for Sophie for dragging me away, I would have stayed trying to break you free and probably been thralled with you." A sob escaped him. "I'm sorry."
Gladio just kept a tight grip on Prompto's hand as he spoke. The story was close to what he'd started to assume, but hearing it was a whole other thing and his heart ached for Prompto next to him. That Prompto had been holding on this for years now sat heavy with Gladio. That kind of guilt? It'd eat you alive.
He was quiet for a moment, just letting it sink in but there wasn't anything even remotely close to coldness in that quiet. Just pensive as his mind ran a million miles a minute.
Gladio shifted, letting go of Prompto's hand in favour of pressing both to the sides of Prompto's face. His thumb gently brushed at the tears there. "Hey, Prom… look at me.." he said softly and waited until Prompto did that before he continued.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?" Said with a fierce conviction behind the words. "I know I'm not - him, however we want to put that. But I can't see anything in our lives changing to any degree that I'd ever blame you for what happened. You've all been fighting a war, Prompto. Bad stuff happens, but that's not your fault." He paused for a moment. "What happened was awful, Prom. For you, for Noct and Iggy, for the me that's lost right now - but absolutely none of us would ever put the blame for that on you."
It was hard to force his eyes open to look upon Gladio's face. He had gotten so used to seeing those terrible red and black eyes that it seemed strange to see the eyes he used to know. It was harder still, to hear what he had to say.
Prompto screwed his eyes shut again, when Gladio fell quiet, in a bid to keep his emotions in check. It helped a little bit to have a healthy and whole version of Gladio around, but ultimately, it served as a reminder of what felt like a personal failure. "I know you guys wouldn't and that's what makes it worse. You should, Gladio. If I had been able to protect myself, been less of a liability…he would be here." And wasn't that a fun callback to when he had doubts in his ability to keep up with the guys?
The thing was Gladio knew that spiral. He knew it well. If they had just done one thing different maybe Noctis wouldn't have been stuck in that damn crystal. If he'd just been faster maybe the person he'd failed to save would still be there. An endless cycle of what if's. It was enough to drive anyone mad.
He didn't reply just yet. Instead he all but manhandled Prompto so they were laying on his bed, Prompto half on top of him. Gladio let his hand run up and down Prompto's spine, another tangled into his hair.
"Look, Prom, I know it's hard - but you gotta remember the only person to blame here is Interitus. You didn't thrall your Gladio, they did." A pause. "Going over and over the events leading to it is just asking for trouble. You can't know what might have happened if things were different. Maybe it would have ended better, but maybe it would have ended worse."
A sobering thought really.
"But all I know, Prom, is you are more than capable of protecting yourself. You're damn good at it. That doesn't mean we're perfect though, sometimes something gets the slip on us - even on me. Doesn't mean you're at fault for what happened though."
It was fucked up, but Prompto missed being manhandled like this. It took away his choice in the matter and allowed him to stop thinking and no one else, not even Iggy or Noctis, could do this and put Prompto in the same mindspace as Gladio could.
At the same time, it made him unbelievably sad because he knew this was temporary. No matter what happened with this big damn hero plan of theirs, this Gladio would be gone soon and there would be no more comfort like this to be had. So he let himself lower those defenses and instead allowed himself to feel again, as he accepted the words Gladio had for him.
It felt like forgiveness, almost. He understood that he had nothing to be sorry for, but that didn’t stop his heart from feeling like it was his fault still. But this felt like forgiveness and while there was no one but his Gladio that could really forgive him for everything that happened, it was still okay because he could pretend at this moment. This unique moment where a Gladio’s arms were around him and his smell permeated his senses.
“Thank you,” he whispered and full of feeling as he squeezed his eyes shut and let tears fall more freely. “I needed to hear that.” And there it was, the shaking of his body as he finally released all the emotions he had started to feel when this Gladio had come through to their time.
Gladio's arms tightened around Prompto's smaller frame. It was a familiar feeling, even far from his own home, the time and space stretched between them. But still so much like the sleepless nights they had in the past year had pulled Prompto under with bad memories and bad thoughts. How often they'd laid like this, Prompto's weight easily held but a comforting press against him, his arms tight around him. And the times Gladio could count on one hand that had happened in those dark days in Eos but that burned in his memory.
"Anytime," he said, just as quiet, his head ducking down to press his mouth against the tufts of hair at the top of Prompto's head.
He kept his arms tight as Prompto shaked, trying desperately to let some of his own strength pass onto Prompto. And he hoped to the gods that when this was all over and done they'd get their own Gladio back.
"Think we can hide out here for a bit?" he asked, not in any hurry to move, to let go just yet.
It was with a wet laugh that betrayed that he was crying, that Prompto said, “You won’t hear me arguing against more alone time with you.” Now that he was letting himself accept this comfort instead of trying to run from it in a misguided attempt to punish himself for the guilt he felt over this whole situation, he was very reluctant to let it go. He allowed himself this selfishness now because he had been carrying that guilt for years now and to have some measure of peace against it, made him feel like a changed man.
He would drag Gladio to the others again soon because he wasn’t greedy enough to keep this for himself for too long, but for now, he soaked in the warmth and pure physicality that was Gladio’s presence. All those nasty thoughts in his head quieted down the longer he laid there and Six, it was almost too easy to finally let himself have hope as he lifted one of Gladio’s hands to kiss.
Maybe their Gladio would come back too.