And Then He Falls [for regalblaze]

[takingaim]

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.

Comments

[takingaim]

And indeed, Prompto does follow. He is silent, until the moment Ignis speaks to him, but even then it's just a quiet, "don't." No, he didn't want to stay, but he knows that right now, there's a limited amount of time to do what they need to do before things get even more crazy. He doesn't want to leave, either, because they're leaving behind Noctis. It doesn't matter that he's dead... for the last ten years, he's been gone and yet not.

Some part of Prompto wants to hold onto that, the belief that Noctis is just a small brush of reality away. It sustains him better than the broken pieces of his heart fallen on the floor of his soul.

He steps into the elevator when it opens, waits for Ignis to enter, pushes the button, then leads his head against the cool metal. His whole body hurts, right down to the core, and it has nothing to do with bruises or blood-dried wounds from their last fight. "...to Hammerhead, first?"

[regalblaze]

The things aren't going to go much crazier than they already did. Or, at least Ignis truly hopes so. He just wants to bury his King in peace and in alight place- he deserves so much more than that, but it's the only thing they can give him. And Ignis will be damned if he doesn't make sure it happens.

He remains quiet when Prompto asks him to, not really having anything else to say on the topic. Prompto already knows what Ignis thinks. The movement of the elevator is barely registered in Ignis' brain and all he wants to do is slump against the wall for a while. And rest.

But there will be time for that.

"Yes. We should... inform the others of what happened," Ignis nods. "Perhaps they will be able to lend us more comfortable ride than a motorcycle." Not that he has anything against the bike, and he's really thankful to Marshal but, without his eyesight, Ignis doesn't feel confident on it.

[takingaim]

"Never been good at driving a car," Prompto mutters, almost a joke, but the heart is missing from it. It feels like the heart is missing from his chest, so maybe everything's just matching it, now.

When the elevator gets to the bottom, Prompto steps out and hesitates, having to remember back, before cautiously stepping in the right direction to be able to leave. There's a part of him screaming to go back, that after so short of a time how can they be leaving Noct?!, but they're not. Noct left them, taken from them, and he's never coming back this time. All that hope that had kept him afloat for ten years hadn't popped yet and it would be so much worse when it did.

Out front, he... stops. The brilliant sunlight cascades over the broken city, over the buildings that stood in various stages between untouched and completely shattered, over empty window panes and touched items long left behind by the fleeing and the dead. This... this is what Noctis died for--

No. There's no one here, except them. This isn't what Noct died for. He died for the people, scattered to the four winds.

Or them. Just them. Prompto isn't certain what had been in Noct's heart at the end except for the photo he had taken with him.