Chapter Text
Time does not heal all wounds. Some wounds fester. Some wounds weep. Some close up and leave a small indent in the flesh; an impression of where something was gouged out. Proof that what was left behind is now less than whole.
The first month was hard. Nightmares. Physical therapy. Actual therapy.
Prompto slept in the prince’s bed for the most part, Noctis having temporarily moved back into the citadel. It was a king-size, of course, but somehow the two friends always ended up in a tangle of limbs directly in the middle of a mess of blankets and pillows.
Prompto was permitted to stay out of school for several weeks, spending his days going to various therapies. The afternoons found him sitting with Ignis, who helped him do the work that Noctis brought home for him so that he wouldn’t fall behind.
Needless to say, the prince was none too pleased about the arrangement. He wanted to stay home with Prompto and keep an eye on him. He even moved back into the citadel temporarily since it was easier for Prompto that way. But everyone was insistent that he go back to school.
It wasn’t the same without Prompto there to get him through his day.
When he was home, Noctis would barely let Prompto piss by himself. On three separate occasions, Ignis was forced to take the prince aside and distract him just so the blonde could get some breathing room. The separation anxiety on Noctis’s behalf was so strong that when Prompto had a long bout of insomnia, usually-comatose-teen would wake out of a dead sleep to follow him to the sitting room and curl up on the couch while the blonde played video games till dawn.
They were inseparable.
Until…
“Noctis, ugh, you HAVE GOT to clean up after yourself! The nightstand on your side of the bed is gross. Dude, are those leftovers forming a civilization??” Prompto tossed a pillow at his friend, his tone teasing, but the prince knew he was only half-joking.
Non-plussed, Noctis hopped up onto his side of the bed and felt three cans of soda to determine which one was the coldest, and thus the most current. “Shut up before I send my little civilization to invade your hyper-organized nightstand. Which,” he held up one finger in declaration, “I have never once complained about by the way.”
“That’s because my nightstand presents zero problems! It’s clean, it’s not cluttered…it’s innocuous is what it is. Yours is…is…” Prompto flailed a little in the prince’s direction, much to the other teen’s delight, “…it’s in-NOCT-uous, which is like the opposite of awesome.”
Noctis threw the pillow back. “Everything associated with me is awesome, and don’t you forget it.”
Prompto fell flat on the bed, grinning. “I’m associated with you, does that mean I’m awesome?”
“No, you’re a dork.”
“An awesome dork.”
“Dorks can’t be awesome by definition.”
Prompto rolled his eyes, flipping to lie on his back. “Whatever, dude. Clean your shit up or I’m telling Ignis.”
Noctis side-eyed him. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I’m dialing in 5…4…3….”
“ALRIGHT, fine. I’ll clean it up, are you happy?” Noctis slumped off his bed, dramatically picking up his soda cans and taking them into the kitchenette.
Prompto watched his exasperated friend throw his garbage away in the most over-the-top way possible, huffing and sneering the whole time. The blonde thought about it for a long moment as Noctis made his way back to the bed.
“…yeah, actually I think I am.”
“I’m glad,” Noctis gave his friend a little grin. “But, I think you’re going to have to have your own room in my apartment.”
“Right, like that is ever going to happen. Your dad said no three times already.”
“Prom, Prom, Prom, when are you going to learn? My dad may be the king, but I’m the one in charge.” Noctis waggled his eyebrows, cracking up.
“Oh my god, you’re the cheesiest. Do you ever get tired of being wrong?”
“Pfft, just watch. This time next month you’ll be moving in.”
Some people revel in their wounds, preferring to hold on to the hurt for a lifetime.
Five weeks after the incident finds Prompto, accompanied by Ignis, waiting to see his father for the first time since that fateful night. They sat side-by-side in a small waiting room while the guards readied the prisoner.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Iggy’s voice lilted softly as he sipped from a can of Ebony.
Prompto, who’d been drumming his fingers on his knees incessantly, went still for a moment and took a shuddering breath. “I know. But, Dr. Inara said it might help. I may never know the why, but at least I can do this…maybe let it go? I dunno.” Nervous fingers found a tear in the knee of worn jeans, and he went silent again.
Ignis nodded, looking straight ahead to the door where an officer stood watch.
~*~
Mrs. Argentum complied fully with law enforcement once it became clear that she was facing jail time. She pleaded out and testified against her husband to receive a lower sentence, and in one year’s time would be out on parole.
As a condition in the plea bargain, she signed over her rights to her son. Before Paul Argentum even gained consciousness, Prompto was declared a ward of the Crown, and the man was in a prison cell below the citadel before his jaw healed enough for him to eat solid foods once more.
“What could you possibly want with me?” Mr. Argentum had not fared well these last few weeks. His face was weathered before, but is now downright haggard; his tone tired and tinged with anger. He sneered at Ignis before swiveling his gaze to the boy.
Prompto—healed but scarred, stronger but still a little scared—shifted under his father’s intense stare, not breaking contact. Instead he grits his teeth and takes three deep breaths before speaking.
“I want you to know I forgive you.” Prompto’s words rushed out as he straightened his shoulders a little and tilted his head in what he obviously hoped was a confident expression.
Paul Argentum’s laugh was mirthless; hollow. “You forgive me?”
Prompto swallowed hard, glancing to Ignis for the first time since they entered the room. The older teen nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“Yes, I forgive you. When I was…before you started…” he trailed off, face screwing up uncomfortably as he corralled his thoughts. “There was love, before. When I was small. I remember you and mom being so happy. But then you started drinking…”
Paul scoffed.
Prompto rushed on, “…and it makes you do and say terrible things. I mean there’s nothing I can do since you attacked Noct, but I wanted you to know that I forgive you for what you did to me.”
Paul leaned forward and the action was mirrored by Ignis, who hummed warningly. The older man side-eyed the adviser for a moment, then turned back to Prompto.
“Well I’m sober, now. They haven’t let me have a drop in all the time I’ve been here. And, you know what? I still think you’re a fucking monster. You deserved all I gave you and more. You’re delusional if you think there was even a moment in time that your mother or I actually loved you.”
Ignis shot to his feet, gesturing to the guards who stood behind the prisoner, and they hurried forward to grab him. He would not be quelled so easily, however.
As they wrestled him to his feet, he grinned wickedly at Prompto. “You’ll be the death of your friends, Prompto! You’re a monster! You know it and I know it, and someday everyone will know it!”
“That’s enough!” Ignis shouted, pushing the struggling men out of the room and slamming the door behind them. He went to speak again, but Paul was howling loud enough from the other side of the door to drown out his next words.
“You’ll wish I killed you!”
Then there was a loud thump and a silence that followed that told the pair that there’d be no more words from Paul Argentum that day.
Ignis sighed as he pushed himself off the door and strode over to where Prompto still sat at the table, his fingers trembling against its scarred surface. “Well, that was less than pleasant.”
Prompto nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know what I expected.” He stood, turning to go out the other door, the adviser not far behind.
They walked in silence in the hall for a few moments, but Ignis grabbed Prompto’s shoulder and turned him gently around when they reached the elevator doors.
“Prompto, I’m not one for platitudes, so I hope you understand what I am about to say is completely true: You’re a good person. You’re smart and funny, and you actually give a damn, which is rare these days. You’re probably the best thing to ever happen to Noctis, and we’re frankly all grateful you’ve become part of his life.”
Prompto, at a loss for words, simply threw himself at the older teen and hugged him fiercely. “Thank you.” He muttered, choking back a sob.
Ignis rubbed his back for a moment before clearing his throat.
“Prompto? The elevator has arrived. Let’s get you back up to the dorms, hm?”
Prompto extracted himself with an embarrassed laugh. “Y-yeah. Let’s do that.”
Some wounds scab over and leave a scar, marring the skin forever—marking the bearer as a survivor.
Whenever they were together, Prompto found himself staring at the scar forming over Gladio’s eye. The warrior was quick to assure him that he in fact liked it, but that never went far to assuaging Prompto’s guilt.
The Saturday before Prompto was to return the school was the first day that he was allowed to really start exercising again, much to his relief. Having to stay in bed was not great for his nerves and he had the urge to move.
Gladio took him to the gym the Crownsguard used, and started him with some simple stretches and yoga poses to check his range of motion and mobility so he could assess him for training.
“I’m ok, Gladio.” Prompto said for the fourth time the older teen stopped him after a small moan or grunt of discomfort. “I’m not made of glass; I really wish people would stop treating me like I am.”
“I’m not—we’re not—“ Gladio stuttered, but recovered quickly. “We’re all worried about you kid, that’s all. It’s not like you have the best track record of being honest when you’re hurting.” The warrior blanched as soon as the words left his lips, but he held strong—it’s not like he was wrong.
“Low blow, big guy.” Prompto deadpanned, but shrugged off the comment as he slowly went from warrior one to warrior two with a tiny hiss and tremor.
They were quiet as Gladio corrected his posture and arm placement, touching gently and murmuring the directions, counting breaths with him before he moved into a modified extended-triangle pose. (though his ribs were healed with a combination of magic and medicine, they were still sore)
“You were going to kill yourself that day last summer, weren’t you?” Gladio asked just as Prompto settled into the stretch.
“W-what?” The blonde sputtered, nearly falling out of the pretzel he had twisted himself into.
“At Insomnia Falls. When I found you out there looking like a lost puppy.” Gladio straightened out of his warrior one pose, grabbing their waters from the bench next to the mats and handing one to Prompto.
Prompto pressed his lips into a thin line, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he stared at a spot on the floor. “…I dunno, really. I was just tired, you know? No matter what I said or did, no matter how good I was, how clean I kept the house, how perfect…I was never good enough for them.”
Gladio huffed out something between a laugh and a grunt. “Fuck ‘em, Prompto.”
The blonde’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“Fuck. Them. They didn’t deserve an awesome kid like you. They couldn’t see how great you are because they were such pieces of shit. I repeat: Fuck. Them.” Gladio rested his large hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder, squeezing gently.
Prompto’s eyes shone with tears as he gave a wobbly nod. “Yeah, ok. Fuck them.”
“We’ll keep this between us, but promise me that you’ll never let yourself get to a desperate place like that again. You’ll come talk to one of us before you let it get that far.”
“Yeah, ok Gladio. I promise. And…thanks. For everything.”
“No sweat, kid. Now, let’s try that pose again. You almost had it that time.” The shield helped straighten him out once more; stepping back and nodding once he was in position. “Soon we’ll set you up with some training. Maybe pit you against Iris—“
“What?! NO!” Prompto startled and hit the floor this time, waving off Gladio’s attempt to help him back up.
“Hey, Iris is more than capable—“
“Exactly! More than capable; she’ll kick my ass.” Prompto shuddered as he lumbered to his feet. “Dude, I saw her spider-monkey her way up your dad’s back and smack a fry out of his hand when he stole it from her plate. She’s ruthless.”
Gladio laughed and nodded along. “Yeah, ok. I just figured that you may want to start off with someone closer to your size. I mean, no offense to the princess, but he sucks as the dominant sparring partner—too cocky for his and everyone else’s own good. I could teach you, but I don’t know how exactly you’d feel about that. I know I can be kind of intimidating, and after everything that’s happened, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to learn from someone else.”
“N-no. I’m pretty ok with the idea of you doing it. You may look big and tough, but you’re a softie for the people you like. And I like to think that you like me enough to not hurt me or let me hurt myself.”
“That’s for sure, kid. Alright, we’ll start next Saturday. Do this set of stretches every night this week before bed, ok?”
Prompto threw him an enthusiastic salute. “You got it, big guy.”
As it turned out, Noctis was indeed wrong.
Though he’d pleaded with his father, he was unable to convince the King to allow Prompto to be his roommate. Something about “two teenagers do not equal an adult” was bandied about, and all protests of “but Ignis is only two years older and he’s allowed to live with me” fell on deaf ears. Arrangements were made and Prompto was given a small, single-room barrack with the Crownsguard, though he was not in their ranks. At least, not yet.
To battle against this, Noctis opted to spend his weekends for the foreseeable future in the citadel, much to his father’s delight (and occasionally Prompto’s relief).
“I guess sometimes it makes me a little nervous that he’s technically in the same building as me, but I’ll get over it. Hopefully.”
Noctis was laid up behind Prompto on the blonde’s twin sized bed; one arm flopped over the other boy’s narrow waist, mouth huffing warm breaths into soft hair.
“S’ok, Prom, I don’t mind.”
Prompto wiggled a little, settling himself further into his best friend’s arms. “It’s just embarrassing, you know? You’d think I’d be over it by now.”
Noctis hummed thoughtfully in his ear. “Is that what Dr. Inara said? That you should be over a lifetime of trauma in a few measly weeks?”
Prompto’s voice was smaller than before. “No.”
“Did she say that you’d never have another nightmare again?”
Prompto shook his head against his pillow. “No.”
“Did she say—“
“Well she didn’t say that Cor-the-freaking-Immortal would be personally breaking into my room to save me from a dream!” Prompto whined, stuffing his pillow into his face and inadvertently whacking Noctis with it in the process.
The prince snickered as he rubbed his eye. “There are worse people to be rescued by.”
“Nooooct,” Prompto was still whining through the fabric. “He was hot and shirtless and…and glistening. I’m having a crises, here!”
A peel of laughter erupted from the raven-haired teen that resulted in a harsh banging against the wall. From the other side a muffled voice rang out: “It’s two in the morning, go to sleep the both of you!” followed by some intense muttering.
Noctis didn’t miss the full-body flinch from Prompto at the loud noise, and he sobered up quickly. He settled down, pulling the other boy closer to him. The truth was the phone call that he received less than an hour ago had frightened him.
“Your Highness? Do you mind coming down to the barracks? Argentum is…having a tough time and is asking for you.”
Cor’s tone was gentler than the prince had ever heard; like the tone one would use to keep a spooked and injured animal calm.
In the background, Prompto was letting out a stream of high-pitched apologies.
“Shhh shh sh.” This part was not for him, but Noctis paid rapt attention.
“It’s ok, kid. No one’s gonna hurt you here.”
The prince could not make out what Prompto’s reply was, but it wasn’t hard to figure out when Cor spoke again, somehow even gentler than before.
“No one is going to harm His Highness here, either. There’s literally hundreds of people in the building whose sole purpose is to protect him.”
A moment later, and Cor was back with him, and Noctis confirmed he was on the way.
Just as Prompto started to drift off, Noctis snuggled down and into his ear whispered: “glistening”, sending them both into fits of giggles. From the other side of the wall, Cor audibly groaned.
It was going to be a long night, but somehow Noctis didn’t seem to mind.