takingaim | And Then He Falls [for regalblaze]

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ten years later

And Then He Falls [for regalblaze]

Of everything that have ever been asked of him, of everything that the last thirty some odd years of his life has demanded of him, nothing has ever been harder than requiring him to stand there and watch his best friend start the long walk up those stairs into the Citadel, knowing that Noctis is going to his death. It's a thousand times harder than having to turn around and look to the massive Giants coming out of the ground, knowing all too well that they might be dying here in giving Noctis enough time to save the damn world. Whatever world might come out of this. What will it matter when Noctis is dead? Maybe this is just a final stand, enough time to live to see the dawn. Somehow, he's both the most afraid and the most determined he's ever been, leaving him in some horrible emotional flux that might almost come across as calm if it wasn't for the tears streaking down his cheeks.

But he holds his gun at the ready, looking solidly forward.

"Last one to kill their giant buys the first round," he calls out, a half-hearted joke as the ground finishes ripping open and the giants stand there.

"Deal," Gladio replies, bringing the massive great sword around in front of him, his eyes more determined than Prompto had ever seen him, but only the faint light shining gave away the tears.

Prompto looks over at Ignis, steeling himself, prepared to do everything to help protect Ignis and without a doubt that Gladio would do the same. He feared for Ignis, really for both of his friends, because with Noctis gone... he is, was, their lives. His, too.

Maybe it's just the death of all of them, no matter what outcome befalls them.

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Prompto isn't even thinking that far ahead. He can't even think beyond the next minute, beyond the next breath, never mind months or years. There's a faint shake of his head, ever so slightly, before he whispers, "I don't want to." But slowly, almost utterly numb, he turns his face towards Ignis' neck and just leaves himself there where it's warm, the pulse of life, as his tears trickle down.

Noctis' last wish. Even though he saw Noctis aged, the handsome beard, so much like his father, his mind still gives him images of Noct at twenty, that lazy smirk. Some things will never change, not when he's had ten years of those memories to hold onto when Noctis had been nothing more than twenty in all of them. "I want to wake up."

It's the plea of a child because right now, he feels like a scared child waking up from a nightmare. But this nightmare won't end.

Neither can Ignis. He was just repeating stuff he was telling himself for the last few hours, weeks, months. Years. Thinking about living and future simply hurts right now and nothing he can say can help.
Ignis doesn't want to live either. But he can't say that. Not to Prompto. Because if he loses either Prompto or Gladio, he really might do something--

His own sobs are quieter, but his body can't hide them, shaking as they come, muffled from the way he buried his face in Prompto's hair. Oh, if only this was a dream. A horrible, terrible nightmare. But it wasn't - it was a living one.

He doesn't know how long they were sitting like that, just holding onto Prompto, letting and crying with him. The sound of footsteps, even though they were in the distance, makes Ignis lift his head up.

...is it stupid to hope for an additional pair of footsteps next to Gladio's?

There's something bracing about hearing Ignis cry, in a way. Maybe it's messed up, but to hear someone he believes in so strongly, that he respects, that he cares for so damned much sound as broken as he feels, it gives something Prompto to focus on. His arms stay tight around Ignis, giving some comfort and getting it in return. His one hand comes up and sinks to the back of Ignis' neck, the faint strands of hair there. He doesn't even pick up the sounds of footsteps, lost as he is in the space between them.

A figure comes through the dawn, picked out first as a moving shadow that slowly becomes a man, and of anyone that might be there, maybe it's the least surprising that it's Cor, a naked blade out at his side, clearly uncertain what he would find in the city with the coming back of the light. When he only sees Ignis and Prompto there, clearly broken and fallen, his eyes narrow. Two scenarios come to mind, both of them leaving a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach but showing none of it across his face.

"Scientia." His tone is that of a commander, firmly demanding a report.

The voice that cuts the air surprises Ignis. He had expected Gladio, not Cor to show up. The first thing that goes through his mind is to up and greet him, somehow, but that would mean letting go of Prompto. It would mean lifting his scared and tear stained face up from where it is hiding in blond hair. And he doesn't even feel his legs.

Ignis' daggers, as well as Prompto's gun, are on the ground. More than telling that the magic is no longer storing them. And if the dawn is really slowly rising, Cor should know what it means.

His fingers dig into Prompto's back harder as he wills his head to lift up towards where the voice comes from. Cor will have to forgive him for not being able to stand, although honestly, Ignis doesn't even care. He opens his mouth to answer but there's a solid rock in his throat and no sound comes out. Ignis just slowly shakes his head and then rests it against Prompto's shoulder.

He can't say it. Part of him still wants to believe that things didn't end the way they did.

He knows. His expression is as it usually is, cool, calm, brows ever so slightly pinched together. The truth of what he realizes is something that he can't let show right now or ever, not when there is so much to do. Regis had given him a final task, and while, in a sense, the task has been complete, he knows it needs to continue. Insomnia, Lucis, needed to be rebuilt, from the ground up, not forgetting all that happened.

The pain the both of them feels is something he understands all too well. The moment Regis fell lies burned into his heart. When Ignis can't speak, he nods ever so slightly in acceptance. Right then. He looks towards the Citadel, his lips thin, before going to walk towards the front doors when suddenly Gladio comes out of them. He pointedly sheathes his blade at that point, seeing the tightness in Gladio's expression, the redness around his eyes as the Shield comes closer.

They share a look. Gladio nods. Confirmation.

Cor glances down and to the side as he hears a broken sound out of Prompt, who had seen the nod.

Ignis doesn't hear any conversation, despite knowing that Gladio is there. The sound Prompto makes sends a chill down Ignis' spine and his stomach lurches. His throat is so choked up he can't even make a proper sound. He wants to cry, to scream his lungs out, but the weight of reality is just crushing him to the point that he can't even properly breathe.

He should stand up. He should help Prompto on his feet too. With the iron force of will, he shifts, legs shaking as he crouches, still holding onto Prompto and trying to lift him on his feet with him.

"Prom..."

It's less like a weight and far more like a puppet being drawn up by the strings as Ignis stand and tries to get Prompto to do the same. He moves, but it's disjointed, like his mind really isn't connected to the motion. Prompto doesn't really cry pretty, always bright crimson splotches on his cheeks and around his eyes, and those very much remain as Ignis gets a look at eyes no longer overflowing but a face looking shattered. The light that might have dulled in the ten years of darkness, that had been reignited upon the first sight of Noctis, is no longer dull but blown out completely.

Broken.

Gladio, if he had ever let himself properly mourn the fall of Insomnia, had never done it where any other living soul had been able to see (only his chocobo would ever know). Even now, his chin is up, his expression flat, as he listens to Cor who is outlining what he saw coming in. If Prompto's listening, he shows no signs of it, just sort of staring down at nothing.

"We'll have to go back to Hammerhead before night falls," Cor wraps up. With nothing working here in Insomnia and no idea if daemons remain at all--

"No." Not even loud enough Cor could hear him, but it's Prompto whispering. "We can't leave him."

Ignis grips Prompto's shoulder tightly when he hears his words. Deamons? Danger? What is Cor talking about?! Requests like these at this time?

"We cannot go with you, Marshal," Ignis repeats what Prompto said, loud for Cor to hear. "The darkness... has been purged. There will be no more daemons. You don't have to worry about that." He steps closer to the Citadel stairs, head tilted a bit.

"Our duty is still not over. And it won't be until we see our King to his resting place. I apologize," Ignis bows briefly to him, "but we cannot follow you to Hammerhead."

He wishes he could seek Gladio's gaze for approval of this decision. Right now, he's doubting every thought that goes through his head.

From the look on Cor's face, Gladio can tell, he doesn't necessarily believe that to be true. It doesn't really surprise him, though, given that the Marshal was not the kind of man to take anything at face value. It had to be proven.

So, with thin lips, Cor gives only a faint sigh. It's Gladio who speaks up, nodding. "We're not going, sorry." Not actually all that sorry in reality, if his tone suggests anything.

"...Alright." Blunt, but there's a hint of disapproval lingering somewhere behind his words. Not because of what they are planning, but the potential threat behind it. "Then I'll be keeping watch and looking throughout the city." A guard, forever through and through.

Hearing Gladio's voice reaffirm what he said made Ignis sigh. The disapproval is obvious in Marshal's tone but Ignis had stopped caring a long while ago. All he wants to do now is make sure that Prompto and Gladio are alright.

Ignis gives a short nod: "Thank you, Marshal." He wanted to say that they will join them eventually, but he's not sure if he could keep that promise. So he keeps his mouth shut.

His hand slips from Prompto's shoulder to his back, slowly ushering him towards the stairs. Ignis feels horrible for having Prompto help out with this but Gladio and Ignis can't do this by themselves.

Going. Going towards the stairs. Going to what lies beyond the stairs. It feels like some horrible movie, like he's nothing more than an actor watching his own body move under another's power, because absolutely none of it feels real. Really, a lot of the times, nothing had felt real in his life since he and Noctis had become friends fifteen some odd years ago. Everything he's done since then, everything he's learned, everything that's happened to him...

When do I wake up from it all?

Because even if waking up from that long dream meant to lose it all, he isn't sure if that notion is worse than the pain in his heart right now.

His feet carry him up the steps, with Gladio leading the way back into the Citadel. Back through the black marble and up the elevator. Everything in him feels simultaneously numb and utterly over sensitive until a vague thought comes into the back of their head - that he left his guns out there. Come to think of it, Ignis left his daggers, too. Gladio's sword is no where to be seen.

It's a thought that gets him up the elevator ride, but when the doors open, he freezes.

I can't do this. His mind is conjuring up what he imagined happened, leaving Noctis' body flat on the floor before the throne or perhaps slumped in it like he's sleeping, like all he'll have to do is go over there and shake him and call him princess and he'll wake up.

The reality is worse, but he can't manage to even come up with that horror in his mind.

Ignis keeps close to Prompto the entire time. Gladio currently has the most composure over them all. The only solace Ignis finds is that he won't be able to witness the scene itself. Flashes of the prophecy and visions are more than enough. There's no waking from this nightmare. No amount of light and freedom they gained will fill the hole that was left in its wake. The sacrifice they had to let happen.

But right now, Ignis had no time to be bitter. He didn't want to seem ungrateful to the King that gave his life to keep theirs safe. And Prompto... out of them all, he spent the least time with Noctis.

His hand never leaves Prompto's back as they climb the stairs, as they ride the elevator, as they step out in front of the throne room. The flash of vision and Noctis getting speared on the throne makes Ignis pause, gripping Prompto's jacket in order to have him stop walking.

"Gladio. Did you... move him?"

The sword from Noctis' chest. The body slumped over in the throne. Prompto didn't need to see that. And Ignis wished Gladio didn't have to see that.

If Ignis hadn't physically stopped him, Prompto wouldn't even have noticed. In preparing to meet whatever horror is within, whatever is about to be branded on his soul for the rest of whatever life is there to live, he is blind to nearly everything, like a chocobo with blinders on. He lifts his gaze, lips parted to ask what Ignis meant-

Then those words. ...Move him? Why? Prompto's brows come together, looking to Ignis with confusion before looking back to Gladio. It's difficult to read Gladio's face in that moment. Confusion? Surprise? Anger? He isn't sure what he sees in the momentary widening of Gladio's eyes, then how they closed, but it all ends in the vivid moment of pained sorrow that gets shut down behind a mask of emotionless. Prompto wishes, with everything in him, he could do that so easily.

"...I did."

Move him? "...Why?" Prompto barely recognizes his voice in the broken sound that is far too loud in the hall.

He hasn't told them and he doesn't intend to. There are some things that his friends are better off not knowing, sights better off not seeing. He wishes he knew a way to not let Gladio see the scene of Noctis on his throne... in a way that none of them wanted.

"The Ring's full power is at the throne. It was for King Regis when he held up the Wall. I suspected that this... ritual," Ignis grit his teeth just thinking about it, "might've transpired there."

And only after Gladio's confirmation, he let's go of Prompto's uniform. He's not sure if the Shield believes a single word he uttered right now but it didn't matter. Ignis didn't want to subject Prompto to the horrific sight that was in the room.

"If that was the case then the sight of it... I wish Gladio didn't have to witness it either." Don't take your dreams for granted. Ignis had no single night of peaceful sleep ever since Altissia.

Ignis can't see the looks he's getting from Gladio, but he might sense it. A look of questioning how Ignis could have known that Noctis had been in a terrible position when he'd found him, pinned to the throne like a butterfly. They will have a talk later about this. It isn't going to be pretty.

Ritual. The word almost makes Prompto want to laugh, some sickly angry laugh, because it had been nothing less than a sacrifice. Noctis had been laid upon an altar and slaughtered, the sunrise as crimson as the blood he spilled. Whatever Gladio had seen when he first came up here, Prompto almost wants to shout that he shouldn't have moved him, that he wants to know the truth. They've gone through all of these hells together and there's no protecting him from that truth anymore!

Gladio doesn't believe a lick of Ignis' words. Something's settled badly in his gut with those words out of his friend's lips and it's sinking further and further.

Without another word, Prompto moves forward, fists clenched at his side. He needs to see. He's supposed to be a photographer, a naked eye to capture the world, even if it's something he hasn't done in years now. If the sun is Noctis' last legacy, to have banished the darkness, Prompto wants people to know, wants to know himself, the price that had to be paid in order to do it.

Yes, he can sense the tension that appeared in the air between them. Gladio probably has a handful of questions, even more yelling in his pocket for him later. Ignis should care about this, he should feel bad for not telling his friends, his brothers, everything he saw. But, right now, he's too numb from the pain to think about it and what kind of consequences it might bring.

Ignis exhales softly when he hears Prompto's footsteps and that he's headed inside of the Throne room. The blond can be angry with them for moving Noct from where he was killed. But Ignis doesn't feel bad that Gladio did what he did. If he could spare at least one of his friends from witnessing that sight, it doesn't matter if they get angry with him. If Prompto gets angry with him.

The sight won't haunt him in his days and nights.

Ignis lingers in the hallway of the Throne room as they enter, waiting for Gladio to tell him what he did and where their King was moved.

"...how did you know he needed to be moved?" Gladio's voice is a rough echo in the hallway, his eyes piercing as they stare at Ignis with intense focus. He could find everything down unusually, he'd been the one who kept going on their path even when the three of them had lost Noctis originally, but even his strength couldn't hold everything out of his voice now. Had he screamed? Cried? It was hard to say; they had all been screaming during that final battle.

Inside the throne room, Prompto just fell to his knees beside Noctis' corpse, covered by a banner Gladio had ripped down from the wall. Slowly, he reached out and pulled it back, showing a face slack in death, holding none of the horror of those last moments. So pale, in the throne room filled with light from the new day, it still almost looked like maybe he would wake up. That handsome face that Prompto had wanted to befriend, love, from the first moment they met, but when his fingertips touched Noctis' cheek, it was too cold already.

The image blurred as the tears started to come.

Ignis is silent as he listens to the rustle Prompto makes as he crouches and moves the banner out of the way. Whether the other knew what will happen or no, it wouldn't change a thing. Ignis knew that because he tried. He tried so hard to find a hole, a way to pull this off without sacrificing their King and beloved friend. The hopelessness he lived with of knowing but not being able to do anything about it was and still is, slowly killing him. Ripping his heart and soul to shreds, a reminder of what this world truly is.

After few silent moments, he just shakes his head and walks over to Prompto. Is it a curse or a blessing that he can't see his dead childhood friend? Placing his hands on Prompto's back as he crouches, he could feel the shaking from the sobs he's holding back.

For Prompto, it might be a curse. The last image in his head he'll ever have is of Noctis lying there, cold and gone, even if the millions on millions of images of Noctis vibrant and alive try to crowd it out. Right now, here, kneeling on the throne room floor, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Noctis is dead. They might have saved the world and brought back the light and all of that other high fluting stuff but it doesn't matter.

He wants to scream, shout, shake the body under his hands, but even as his heart cries out, his mind knows it will do no good. It leaves him shaking, torn and frozen in place in his indecision, his fingers slowly clenching until they grasp material tightly between them.

"Noct," he manages to get out, choked until it feels like he can't breathe. It's not fair, why- why!? Ten years of lingering over this, of knowing it was coming, hadn't been long enough to come to grips with what would be. A thousand years wouldn't have been.

Ignis stands close to Prompto, hearing from where his voice comes. His throat is all closed up, knowing Noctis' unmoving body is laying just a foot away from him. It's rendering him speechless, immovable, wishing he could take his King's place ten times over.

He doesn't have the heart to pull Prompto away from him. But he also can't let Prompto sit like that. With a shaky exhale, he crouches down, hand on Prompto's back. The reason is supplying him with what they need to do after all of this, but he can't bring himself to voice any of it.

"Prom..." turn away. This is not how you should remember Noctis.

As if he will ever, ever be able to forget the sight he's already seen. It feels burned into his mind's eye, the epitome of their failure to truly protect him in the end laid out at his feet. None of this is right. Not Noctis looking like his father in this outfit, not him being here on this cold marble floor, not him being dead.

"...Iggy, take Prom out. ...Gonna take Noct down to the tomb." Somewhere where, for now, they could leave his body safely where the magics of the place would keep the body from rotting away.

Gladio's slow words brought out a keen of sound from Prompto and a matching flinch only Ignis would be able to feel.

A cold wave goes down Ignis' back when Gladio says 'tomb', breathing stopping for a moment. He's... never imagined that he will witness Noctis' body down in the tombs. His hand moves from Prompto's back around his shoulders and slowly moving him away from the body.

"Come."

There is a pleading tone in Ignis' voice as he urges Prompto to get up and head out of the Throne Room. He's not sure in what state is the break room, but there should be a place to sit down or lie down.

"We will change the guard with Gladio later," he adds, in case Prompto protests and wants to go with Gladio.

"No," comes the weak whisper as Prompto finally looks away from the body to Ignis, guided into standing up and pulled a step away before he realizes he's being guided at all, away from his friend who his mind all but screams shouldn't be alone. Logic knows this faulty, foolish, but his head spins with the idea until he stares helplessly at Gladio.

The bigger man nods gesturing with his chin to follow Ignis. "I won't leave him," as if he understands exactly what's going on in Prompto's head. It's both a relief and a punch in the gut, causing Prompto to bend slightly over as if it physically dealt a blow, but he does follow along with Ignis.

Ignis will get a brief squeeze on the shoulder from Gladio before the click of the Shield's boots indicates he's gone to kneel beside the body.

The break room is dusty both otherwise untouched from the years of chaos, like the majority of the Citadel has proven to be. It seems the daemons had never roamed this halls, only one man whose footprints can be seen in the dust in certain areas. Prompto doesn't know where he's being taken, doesn't care, a numbness spreading throughout his mind but not his heart.

Ignis gives Gladio a nod of thanks for helping him persuade Prompto. Sometimes he's better at reading people than Ignis is, even when it is someone close to him like Prompto. With a hand wrapped around his waist, he guides him out of the Throne Room and to the Break Room that's just across the hall.

Whatever the state of the room is it doesn't matter in the hindsight. Ignis doesn't care, Prompto probably cares even less. He helps him sit down on the sofa he knows it's aligned next to one of the tall windows and then sits down himself next to him.

Silence.

It is more suffocating that the dust that is floating in the room. Ignis feels exhausted- body and mind and heart. Ignis takes off his visors to properly bury his face in his hands, a violent shudder going through him.

Dust slowly floats across the room in the delicate shafts of light penetrating the gloom for the first time in many years, kicked up from the door opening, from them sitting on the seat, but neither man seems to notice. With Ignis right there beside him, Prompto couldn't miss the shudder that ran through Ignis.

A pale hand slowly creeps over and settles on Ignis' back without a word, giving what little bit of support he can possible manage when it feels like everything has been drained from him. I'm still here, the hand tries to say, without adding the even if I don't know how much longer that wants to follow.

Noctis has been his hope for most of his life, now. Now it's gone. How can he live without hope? Everyone's always expected him to be the lively one, the one with the energy and excitement and...

His hand slowly tightens on the back of Ignis' jacket.

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Sorry I'm a little on the slow side this week! ;;

it's okay have no worries /ended up being slow too

Never a worry on my part if you need to take your time. <3~

❤

Question: ...did Ignis ever TELL Gladio about the vision?

I've been wondering that ever since Ignis' DLC. From the way he reacted around crystal I doubt

*nodnod*

well from the looks of it he'll end up telling him!

XD

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nodnod