operation: rescue gladio
Noctis Lucis Caelum + Prompto Argentum + Gladiolus Amicitia
late november, outer planet vasa
Injury, blood, violence | Complete
He'd been hoping to get Gladio and Prompto in the same room since Noctis found out they were both around. The best bet seemed to be Prompto's ship, or neutral territory beyond the reach of the UPCS, or, most unlikely of all though he wished for it more than anything, at his apartment on Andromeda. But anything would work so long as he could have them both close, even just for a little while. Noctis hadn't anticipated it would go down quite like this: him and Prompto planning to track down and potentially rescue Gladio from a notorious crime boss. Nor had he anticipated the flood of unpleasant memories that would come with it—awful things about his own capture that he hadn't thought about in months, at least not consciously. Now it was all rushing back, threatening to overwhelm him.

Noctis must have muttered something vague and unconvincing to Prompto, because he stumbled into a small alcove away from the cockpit and somehow managed not to throw up. Thankfully, he'd been raised in a home of secrets and taught how to compartmentalize, so pushing it all aside only took a few shaky breaths and the weight of a necklace hidden beneath his tunic. They had their friend to save. He had to get his shit together. (He always had to get his shit together.)

It wasn't long before they found what was left of Gladio's ship. The hulking mass of metal and smoke reared up from the skyline like a sleeping dragon, and it only looked worse the closer they approached. Once they touched down, Noctis heard a dog's plaintive cries outside, and he exchanged a look with his best friend, cold horror creeping up his spine. If Henruit was still on board The Calamity, that meant Gladio was long gone, and their odds of finding him alive were dwindling fast.

After disembarking with Fenris to retrieve the poor thing, Noctis watched the two interact and suggested they leave Henruit in the elf's care. They could still tackle this self-made crime boss with the team that remained: Prompto, Noctis, and two from Prompto’s team. Except when they prepared to leave, Noctis grabbed Prompto's arm without warning. "Wait—" He blinked, realizing just how hard the grip of his metal hand was and loosened it immediately, grimacing. "Sorry. It's just—they have Magi. I can sense them."

Fenris' expression flickered, briefly, but it was too quick for Noctis to interpret the look. "If you can sense them, can't they sense you?" The elf asked.

"No." He glanced at them all briefly, but didn't offer more than that. Fenris' eyes narrowed.

“How many are there?”

A moment passed. "Five. I think they're guarding the exits." He glanced at Prompto, worry lining his whole face. "Let me handle them. I know how they fight." He could feel the intensity of Fenris’ suspicions rising, but they were running out of time, and Noctis didn't exactly feel like explaining how he knew all of this. Or worse, what it meant about him. "Do you trust me?" It wasn't fair to ask that of Prompto, especially now. He knew that. But he also knew he could handle a few Magi if he was quick and careful.

Compartmentalizing was like breathing to Prompto now, those barriers in him still intact enough to snap up quickly to help him focus. It was like a shot of adrenaline, making him hyper-aware of everything going on around him and alert because his emotions didn’t get in the way. So Prompto had noticed that Noct had seemed to pale and he took note of when he ducked out of view, but he didn’t ask about it. If Noct wanted to talk about it, he would listen, but he was too focused on piloting the cruiser and listening to the streaming chatter with interjections from his crew and something told him by the way that Noct disappeared that he didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe it was just nerves. This whole mission had a tension around it that was almost palpable.

Once they had landed, Prom felt his heart drop into his stomach as the Calamity rose up into view, a shell of the ship he’d remembered from only a few days ago. Henruit’s pained whine felt like someone gripping the back of his neck with ice cold hands, squeezing too tight and he held Noct’s glance. Seeing the ship in this condition twisted something inside Prompto. If Gladio had been working for Valgardson, destroying the Calamity meant that they didn’t intend for him to get out of this alive. There was no way it could mean anything else.

Quickly, Prom scanned the area for anyone who might have been lurking around the wreckage, not wanting to be ambushed. Satisfied that there was no immediate danger, Prompto turned to Celethe and Saevi as Noct and Fenris approached Henruit, telling them to radio back to the so he could duck inside the smoldering ship for the black box. That was until Noct’s hand closed around his arm and he twisted a little reflexively at the painful grip.

“I do,” Prom replied quietly to Noct’s question. He trusted him, but that didn’t mean he was entirely comfortable with whatever he was thinking of doing. Noct was more than capable of handling anything, he was definitely stronger than Prompto was, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel anxiety clawing and rooting around inside him at the thought. “It’s alright,” he directed towards Fenris, trying to keep his composure.

Gladio really couldn't be sure how much time had passed since Valgardson had walked onto his ship to the moment he found himself in then. It was broken up, hazy, littered with moments of lucidity and then moments he couldn't account for. Moments he'd blacked out in he could only assume. If the throbbing in his head, the blood he could feel trailing down his face was any indication. The fact he had no clue how long it'd been since he last ate, or even had anything to drink probably didn't help. Or the gunshot from the fight on his ship, all things that came to him that he regarded and tossed aside. Not like the why even mattered at this point.

He lifted his head slightly, winced at the light as low as it was in the cargo bay and took in his surroundings. Like the last time he'd had a moment of being able to think he took stock again. The two armed men at the door in front of him, the ties around his hands binding them behind the chair he sat on. He'd dislocated his thumb ages ago, an attempt to slip out of the binding but the zip ties were tight and from the little he could remember he figured he'd passed out before being able to really try. He wiggled his toes, feeling coming and going. Feet bound to the legs of the chairs as well. His body felt like one big bruise - which he imagined it probably was given that he'd been on the receiving end of more than a few cheap shots. Far as he could tell Valgardson was just letting his thugs bide their time with him until they all got bored and finished the job.

He could taste blood in the back of his throat and he fought against the gagging sensation at it, swallowing down. The two men at the door were talking amongst themselves, distracted and not noticing he'd come to.

Does it matter? came a voice from the back of his mind. What are you even going to do? Tied to a chair you can't even get your pathetic ass out of. Gladio dropped his head, twisted his hands again and ignored the pain that shot up his arms at the move. You deserve this you know, your own damn fault you're here -

But that instinct to fight, to survive, managed to wear down the self deprecating thoughts. The knowing he'd damn well promised Noctis he'd come back and if he couldn't get the hell out of here for himself he could do it for Noctis who deserved a hell of a lot more than him just simply… disappearing. He bit down hard on his lip and pressed against his other hand, hoping the chatty guards wouldn't hear the pop as his other thumb dislocated. He stilled. Waited. They didn't seem to notice. Softly he started to maneuver his hands, slipping one out of the ties.

"Hey -" he croaked out, hands free from each other but he kept them behind his back. The guards ignored him and he tried again, his voice rough. "Hey!"

That seemed to pull focus and Gladio lifted his head as they looked back to him. "What's a guy gotta do around here to get some water?"

One of the guards moved toward him with a smirk. "I got a few suggestions but I doubt you'd like 'em very much."

Gladio just grinned, though there was nothing but animosity on the expression, teeth bared. "Try me."

The guard laughed and moved closer, and as he leaned down Gladio quickly threw a punch to the side of his head. The other guard opened the door and shouted down the hall as Gladio tried to scramble for the gun on the man at his feet despite his own still being tied to the chair.

He had just managed to get a grip on it before he was swarmed. Gladio fired blindly as the chaos erupted, barely registering the shout of the person he had hit. Teeth gritted against the pain as his body protested every move, Gladio tried to keep and upper hand. But for every punch he managed to land they landed more, the gun quickly knocked out of his grip.

"You just don't know when to give up," said one of the men as the others manage to subdue Gladio and get his arms tied again.

Gladio grunted as the new zip tie dug into the already raw skin on his wrists. Too tight to wiggle out of he knew. His gaze hardened at the man in front of him, recognizing him as the asshole who had kicked Henruit. Tasting that blood again in his mouth Gladio mumbled out a fuck youand spat it at the man's face. The last thing he saw before being knocked out again was the man wiping it off.

Noctis wished he had time to explain everything, but he didn't—and that was probably for the best. There was no way to tell whether Prompto would still want to be around him if he knew, a thought that made him feel queasy with guilt and fear. Later, he told himself, swallowing hard. I'll explain later. Some of the tension left him when Fenris finally backed down, the elf turning his attention to Henruit while the others prepared to leave. Noctis kept replaying those last few moments in his head when they approached the cargo bay not far off; the way Prompto had twisted away from his tight grip, the anxiety he'd caught flashing across his best friend's face. Did doing something awful count if he only wanted to save their friend? Would he always be so well-intentioned if he did this more than once? Wasn't his magic like a sickness, poisoning everything it touched?

He held up his hand to stop the others when they got close enough to the building, making sure they were all safely covered. It was now or never. Noctis glanced at Prompto again, who was closest to him, and reached out to squeeze his hand. He didn't say anything—couldn't—it was just a need to convey something reassuring before he royally fucked everything up between them. Then he was gone, warping out of view so he could get a better vantage point up above. Or, well. That's what Noctis would have done, except there was a guard up there, one he knocked out pretty quickly. He descended the stairs wearing the guard's appearance, a complicated bit of magic he'd always had but never tapped into because he hadn't known about it. Ardyn changed that. Ardyn changed a lot of things.

This made it simple enough to approach the Magi waiting at the entrance. They recognized the face Noctis wore now, not the spell he was using. If he didn't tap into the magical energy present throughout this new universe, they wouldn't know he was using any at all, and that would be their advantage. Of course, that didn't make Noctis feel the slightest bit better about mimicking Ardyn. He focused on his concern for Gladio when he dug deep into the well of his family's power, smiled, and told the Magi to leave. They dispersed calmly. Noctis returned to Prompto and the others, tasting blood in his mouth from worrying his cheek so much. He needed to focus. "I'm gonna go around the side and take care of the other Magi," he said, briefly holding his best friend's gaze for a second or two before looking away. He still wore the appearance of the guard, as well as the voice, but he knew Prompto would at least trust it was still him. Noctis hoped, anyway. "Nice and easy. Just watch your backs—it's crawling with guards around here." Stating the obvious, but. Well. He was nervous. And, apparently, not about to wait around for much of a reaction from the rest of them, because Noctis was already moving to do like he'd promised. They were here for Gladio, and they'd damn well leave with him. Everything else ... could be worked out. Probably.

The luxury of time was something that that didn’t have right now. It was obvious in the state the Calamity, in the heavy hanging fear that crowded in on him. It felt hard to breathe, like there was a hand wrapped around his throat with a grip that only grew tighter as the seconds ticked by. Prompto felt helpless, more so than he had in a very long time. He’d only barely — and… well, it really was just barely, wasn’t it? — reunited with Gladio and the fear that he could lose him before even attempted to rebuild the friendship it felt they had lost was enough to make Prompto feel as if he were made of ice. Prompto was terrified and all he could hope was that it wasn’t clear on his face. If it was, no one said anything and he was grateful for that.

Following Noct, sticking closer to him while Celethe and Saevi hung further back to cover them, Prompto always kept Noct close enough to reach out for, always kept him in his peripheral vision, even as his eyes scanned the area. So when Noct held his hand out, Prom froze and signalled the same to his two crew members, who fell back into their positions. Another frigid wave of fear overtook Prompto, uncertainty tearing into him, but then Noct squeezed his hand and for a moment, he felt more at peace.

But only for a moment because then Noctis was gone and Prompto’s heart fell back into the pit of his stomach. With a deep breath, Prompto reminded himself that he had said he trusted Noct and he did, even if every nerve and synapse in his brain was screaming at him.

It was okay. They were going to be okay. Noct was going to be okay. Gladio was going to be okay. Celethe and Saevi were going to be okay.

Prompto repeated that to himself quietly once, twice, as he listened to the shuffling and lazy movements of the patrolling sentries, the trite and too boisterous conversations. None of them were alerted to any foreign presence yet, and it eased just a little of the anxieties that were still clinging to him.

He jumped slightly at the face of the person in front of him, scarred and unfamiliar, but the cadence of his voice, the way he spoke even if the voice itself was foreign, and the way he looked at him made Prompto sure it was Noct. If he’d ever know that Noctis was capable of something like this, he had long forgotten it but it called to mind something — someone — else entirely. Memories of tumbling back off of a moving train swept in and Prompto felt all the air be forced from his body in one swift blow like being kicked in the chest. He was terrified in a primal way, but he did his best to shake it off, knowing that they couldn’t afford the wasted time.

“Okay,” he finally ground out, making himself speak to keep distancing himself from the panic that tried to rise up in him. Prompto didn’t know what else to say though, and just nodded, holding the gaze of the person in front of him and trying to find anything familiar in it to keep himself calm. Again, though, Noct slipped from view and Prompto signalled the two others to follow his lead, advancing from cover to a new location further in, though he’d made it clear the other two were to hang back.

As he settled into his new vantage point, one with a clearer view of the area, Prom noticed one of the guards start to get suspicious about the movement of the Magi, tipping his head towards the radio clipped to his shoulder. Quickly, Prom jumped up and pulled him back into the shadows he had been lurking in, one arm wrapped tightly around his neck, the hand of his other arm coving the man’s airway and keeping his mouth shut. Prompto wasn’t going to kill anyone if he didn’t have to, so when the man finally went limp, he let go, lowering him to the ground. There wasn’t much chance he’d wake up any time soon, but he’d wake up, which was a mercy Prompto wasn’t sure he really deserved, but he had never been a killer, an executioner. Not like his father. Prompto was desperate to never become like him.

Stealing the radio, Prom clipped it to his jacket, though he turned the volume down considerably, figuring it might be able to help pick up where exactly in this place they might have been holding Gladio.

Prompto settled back behind his cover, waiting to get the all clear from Noct or for a sign of emergency. He preferred the former, but his hand came to rest on the grip of his revolver in the case of the latter.

Noctis did his best to ignore the alarm bells ringing in his head, the ones that made his heart race and his palms clammy. You scared him, his mind supplied, over and over, the look he'd caught on Prompto's face one he'd never, ever thought he'd see, and one he would never forgive himself for putting there. But he pushed that down when approaching the three remaining Magi, only because he needed to focus all his magic again in order to suggest that they take care of the sentries posted all around the area. "Don't kill anyone," Noctis said in the guard's voice, which was lower than his own. "Nobody gets hurt. Understood?" They all murmured their agreement before dispersing, which unfortunately left him alone with his thoughts.

You're a monster.

You're worse than Ardyn.

You'll hurt Prompto.

You'll hurt everyone.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Noctis steadied himself and glanced up to make sure the Magi were doing as he'd asked. Sure enough, there they were, easily taking out the guards above them, intent on the task. Noctis felt sick. But if using the awful parts of his family's magic meant saving Gladio and giving Prompto and his friends a decent shot at this rescue mission, he'd do it again if he had to. He'd willingly sacrifice his humanity for that. Even if it meant turning into Ardyn, a twisted, horrible excuse for a man long since poisoned beyond recognition. It was an easy sacrifice to make, although he wasn't quite certain if it would ever come to that.

He checked to make sure there weren't any lingering guards in view before he returned to Prompto and the others, the magic veneer falling off him like snow shaking off a jacket. "Alright. That's most of them. We should only be dealing with whoever's inside," Noctis said, not quite aware that his movements had gotten very slow, like he was half-afraid he might startle his friend if he moved too fast. That and his hands were up, just slightly, a sign of peace. It didn't matter, of course. Noctis knew what he'd done was unforgivable, he just wanted to make sure Prompto still trusted him enough to get through this fight.

"So." A pause. "Do we do this fast? Or go in slow?"

Listening carefully to the chatter over the radio, Prompto picked up on the change in the way they were all speaking, some combination of vile mirth mixed with surprise and a little bit of fear. He was only picking up on what seemed to be the end of whatever they were talking about, but it was clear something had happened, so he turned up the volume and picked through the multitude of cacophonous voices to piece together what they were discussing. Slowly, Prompto pieced together the fact that Gladio had somehow managed to get himself free for a moment, though from the way they were talking, it didn’t seem like it had been long. There was something about the words they used, the tone of their voices, that made Prompto sick to his stomach, like this was all just some kind of game to them.

Still, Prompto made himself listen, hoping to get more information on where Gladio might be. This place was too big to search all of it and still make it in time with only the four of them and it was too dangerous to really split up, so they needed all the help they could get. It took everything in him to keep the bile from rising up in his throat as the voices continued to crackle through the radio, but eventually they gave him something to work with.

Cargo bay.

Prompto twisted the volume dial back down, not enough to silence them completely, but enough to make it harder to hear them because the conversation had already shifted gears to something Prompto could do without having to pay attention to. Instead, he turned his eyes up, glancing around for anything that looked like it might be the cargo bay or at least lead up to it. Catching Saevi’s eye, Prom fell back to where she was crouched behind a stack of unlabelled pallets full of things Prom was hesitant to imagine. “I think they’ve got him in the cargo bay,” he whispered, and he glanced over to Celethe to make sure she was still okay before he turned his attention back to Saevi. “I want you two to make sure we have a clear path back from both the direct route,” a pause to show her where he estimated the straight shot from here to the cargo bay was. “And from the right, okay? Shoot as a last resort.”

There was a hand on his shoulder, and Prompto glanced back at Saevi who offered him a small smile, but she didn’t say anything, only nodding, before she fell back to where Celethe was holding position as Prom returned to his just as Noct made it back.

Watching as that disguise fell away from him in a shower of magic, Prompto just regarded his best friend for a moment or two, the conflicted look in his eye and the way it darkened the shade. Guilt? Like an undercurrent swirling the water to dredge up the cold that had sunk to the bottom, Prompto realized that was his fault. He was sure of it. Did Noctis think that he was terrified of him? He must have, judging by the way he moved as if he were facing down a wounded feral animal. Prompto wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but there wasn’t time even though he wished there was.

Slowly, Prompto reached out a hand and laced his fingers with Noct, hoping to convey that he was okay, that he wasn’t afraid. If they had time later, Prompto would reconfirm all of that.

“It’s gonna have to be fast. It sounds like he tried to escape and they…. I don’t know what could happen to him if we take too long. Celethe and Saevi are going to cover our exit. We’re heading for the cargo bay. There.” Prompto wasn’t entirely positive it was where he believed it was, but it was the most logical place and it was the best lead they had, even if it was just his gut instinct at the moment. “Ready?”

When Prompto didn't respond right away, Noctis was pretty sure he couldn't hide the fact that his heart felt like it dropped straight into his shoes. He tried to put on a brave face, of course; it would hardly do to risk the mission now, and he deserved every single bit of fear and doubt Prompto must be feeling. But that didn't mean he could hide his own emotions from his best friend. He'd never been able to do that no matter how hard he'd tried in the past, and he hardly expected to succeed at it now. Except all his anxious thoughts scattered the moment Prompto laced their fingers together. It grounded him in the here and now like nothing else could, and his stress melted away, at least enough that he felt focused again. Resolved.

There was gratitude in Noctis' eyes when he regarded Prompto, but he didn't comment on it. They would need to talk later. His hand, though, squeezed just a little tighter when his friend mentioned Gladio attempting to escape. "Shit. Okay." Noctis exhaled shakily. They would make it in time. They had to. There was no other option, no realm where the possibility of losing Gladio existed—losing either of them. So he simply offered a nod to acknowledge he understood the plan, not even thinking to question it when Prompto pointed at their destination just a few feet away. Noctis trusted his friend implicitly, and he trusted that they would make it through this by working together.

"Ever at your side," Noctis murmured, just loud enough for Prompto to hear, before he started forward, leading them to the cargo bay in question quickly and quietly. For a moment, he felt like he was twenty again, sneaking into an Imperial base with his friends spread out behind him. He could sense Celethe and Saevi, and with Prompto even closer, it was hard not to think of the team he made with Ignis, Gladio, and his best friend. Something in Noctis ached so badly for that, to be in step with all three of them again, even if it was impossible. Even if he didn't deserve it.

Noctis spared his friend a single glance when they made it to the entrance, waiting for Prompto to signal to his crew members first before they busted their way in. And they did, in fact, bust in. He was keenly aware of the fact that they had mere seconds to take advantage of the element of surprise—so he warped straight into the largest group of people he could see and proceeded to disarm them, trusting in the fact that Prompto could handle himself at the front. Every time someone raised a gun to aim at the blond, Noctis was there, knocking them out with their own weapon, the barrel coming down to smack them straight in the face. It wasn't a perfect system, but it was working. Somewhere, he could sense Ignis cringing.

That was when he caught sight of Gladio, and Noctis actually froze in horror and surprise, distracted long enough to get the handle of a gun smacked against the back of his head. He stumbled forward, still awake but dazed, and kicked his leg out fast to take down whoever that was. "He's here!" Noctis called, the words a little slurred while he regained his bearings.

Feeling some of that tension melt away after he took Noct’s hand, Prom felt like a weight had lifted off of his chest too. It felt like he could breathe again and he sucked in a shaky inhale, trying to fill his lungs again and push past that burning sensation that shot between his ribs, as if he had been drowning until this very moment, starved for air.

Prompto squeezed back, trying to reassure Noctis even though he was just as worried about Gladio. The chatter over the radio implied that he was still alive, probably out cold now, but alive, and Prompto clung to that because he couldn’t stand to think about the alternative. No, they were going to get out of here, Prom was going to get them all out of here. Nothing was going to stop him from accomplishing that goal.

“Ever at your side,” Prompto echoed back, the words filling him up, giving him strength. Easily falling into step with Noct, Prompto followed him in the direction of what he had assumed was the cargo bay, flanked at a distance by Celethe and Saevi. They made a great team, almost as easy and fluid as the one the four of them back on Eos had been. Prompto missed being that in sync with them, but he could feel that again, every time he was with Noct, every time they just seemed to fit back together like puzzle pieces that might look damaged but they still slotted right into place. It gave him hope that maybe…. maybe someday, they could all have that again.

Finally reaching the heavy doors, Prompto caught the attention of his two crew members, wordlessly signalling them to get into position before the blew the doors open and stormed inside.

Taking advantage of that moment of surprise, Prompto wrenched the gun out of the hand of the man closest to him by twisting his arm painfully behind his back and kicked the gun back into one of the corners of the room behind him. Yanking the man’s arm just a little more and using the right leverage, Prom heard the sickening pop of his shoulder dislocating before the man dropped to the floor. Quickly, Prom stepped past him, dodging a wild punch before returning it with one of his own, square to the jaw on one side and then again to the other. Winding up, he landed one more punch before kicking his attacker in the solar plexus with the heel of his boot, knocking the air out of him and leaving the man dazed.

A sharp, burning pain flashed across the side of Prom’s ribcage and he turned to see another man with his gun pointed at him. Prom huffed a snide comment about his jacket before rushing the man, sweeping him and knocking him to the ground. Trapping his wrist underneath the sole of his shoe, Prom kicked the gun away before cold-cocking him with the butt of the rifle he’d wrested away from him. That was going to be one hell of a broken nose.

There was a brief lull and Prompto turned just in time to see Noct dropping a guy to the ground but he heard the way his speech was just a little off and Prom rushed towards him, pulling his revolver out from its holster as he quickly checked Noct’s pupils. It seemed okay, but he made a mental note to insist he be looked at. “Are you okay?”

It took Prom a second to register what Noct had said and suddenly it clicked.

He’s here.

Twisting around, Prom saw Gladio and his stomach turned even as he was running forward and taking out the knife strapped to his side to cut the zip ties off. The smell of old blood was so thick that it felt like it was coating the inside of Prom’s lungs but what scared him was that he couldn’t even really assess how injured Gladio was. There was just so much blood and it was caked, some of it new, some of it dried or clotted. “Hey,” he whispered, voice low, trying to see if Gladio was awake at all as his fingers found his pulse. It was thready and weak under his fingertips, but it was there. “Hey, it’s Prompto. Noct is here. We’re going to get you out of here.”

Prompto turned back to Noct as he waited for any kind of response from Gladio. If they could keep him awake enough to help them, they could get out faster, though Prom was starting to think maybe that wouldn’t be possible.

Gladio half registered the sudden commotion as Prompto and Noctis barreled in. But it was hard to work his way through the fog to put the pieces into place. Though blurred vision he could have sworn he saw the tell tale blue mist left behind when Noctis warped. Which didn't make sense. Noctis wasn't there. Noctis couldn't be there.

He slumped forward when the ties were cut, barely catching himself before he could topple off the chair completely. Vaguely he was aware of the touch to his neck, words being spoken. It's Prompto. Noct is here. We're going to get you out of here. It took a moment but the words sunk in and Gladio lifted his head to look at Prompto. "Prom?" he managed to get out, gaze unfocused as he looked at him. Gladio lifted a hand, dragged his fingertips across Prompto's face as though trying to convince himself this was real before his hand dropped.

"Go," he said suddenly. "Take Noct and go." Panic seeped into the words, his eyes still glassy and unfocused but now wild looking somehow. Fear that this mess he'd gotten himself into would now get Prompto and Noctis hurt. Or worse.

It was the ringing gunshot that drew Noctis' attention, and his had snapped in the direction of the sound, heart hammering wildly in his chest. But Prompto seemed to be okay—at least for now, and he did his best to push down that icy fear creeping up his spine in favor of taking down another gang member before they could so much as think about approaching Prompto. He's alright. He does this all the time. Focus on the mission. It didn't matter, of course. No matter how much Noctis tried calming himself down, his hands were shaking when his best friend rushed over, and he immediately proceeded to push that jacket out of the way when Prompto got close enough to reach. "Am I okay? You got shot—" But Prompto was gone again, bolting over to take care of their friend just as a fresh wave of guards rushed in to take position at the entrance, and he had to swallow his fear again before deciding what to do.

Noctis had seconds. It felt like time was slowing to a crawl, the murmured voices behind him muffled as if he'd sunk under water. That's what tapping into his magic usually felt like, and as it rose up all around him, Noctis only thought one thing: protect them. A startled shout came from one of the guards when the man next to him swung a gun at his head, only to swing it again, the handle connecting with a loud crack. That's when utter pandemonium broke out, gang members fighting gang members, and when Noctis glanced back at his friends, his eyes were very bright. "Chill out, big guy. We got this." His voice wavered a little, but only out of concern. Gladio looked ... awful. And it absolutely, utterly terrified him.

Shuffling closer to their friend's opposite side, he took in the damage with a deep frown. Then, carefully, as if Gladio were made of glass, Noctis reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Think if we support him on both sides we can get out of here?" It was directed at Prompto, unsure about how close their getaway transport could feasibly fly without risking everyone on board. He spared a glance at the remaining gang members just in time to see them subdue the perceived traitor in their ranks. Noctis simply turned his attention to a new individual, and with a firm nudge of his magic, they went careening into the others, and more chaos erupted.

At his shoulder, the radio once again crackled to life and Prompto knew that they were running out of time. His heart was racing in his chest, flailing against his rib cage so violently that it hurt. More than the wound bleeding at his side, because at least adrenaline made that seem dull and distant. Soon, they were going to be overrun and even Celethe and Saevi weren’t going to be able to help them get out of here. Outside the heavy cargo bay doors, Prompto heard the sounds of a fight from out there too and he knew the longer they stayed here, the less likely all of them were going to make it out it became.

When Noct’s hands reached for him, Prom gently rested his hands over top of them. “I’m okay. It just grazed me.” They didn’t have a lot of time, but there was still time for him to reassure Noctis that he was fine. It was the least he could do before he left his side to move to Gladio’s.

Seeing Gladio fall forward, Prompto reached out to help keep him from collapsing completely, offering himself as a support to keep him up. “Yeah, it’s me,” he whispered as Gladio’s fingertips grazed his cheek. It was troubling, seeing how unfocused his eyes were, but then panic seemed to take hold of them and that meant that at least he was cognizant enough to know what was going on. “We’re not leaving you behind,” Prom replied firmly. Ducking under Gladio’s arm, Prom draped it over his shoulders and pressed himself against his injured friend’s side. “I just need you to help me, okay?”

Prompto glanced over at Noct when he spoke, trying to focus on their exit strategy now that it seemed like Noct and his two crew members had the current situation under control. “I think so. We can’t go back out those doors though,” Prom answered, eyes turning to the right where he saw another set that were half opened from when someone had come through them earlier. Through the crack in the door, Prom recognized the distinctive pattern on the wall from when he had been talking to Saevi just minutes ago when he asked her to clear a secondary path in case they couldn’t go back the way they came. “We’ll go through there. It should be clear.”

Taking a deep breath, Prom tried to keep himself focused. “But we need to go now. Ready?” And that question was turned towards both Noct and Gladio as he squeezed the latter’s wrist where his hand was wrapped around it as he snuck his other arm around Gladio’s back for support.

Right, he really should have known better than to think either Noctis or Prompto would follow the order. And despite the worry he felt for both of them, there was a part of him that perked up at the way neither backed down. Hope that maybe he hadn't completely fucked things over, that maybe they'd still actually want to talk to him after they got the hell out of here. And okay, maybe there was a bit of pride that flared in his expression as he looked over Noctis and Prompto - after all he knew it would have been no easy feat even getting this far.

He gave Noct's hand a squeeze back and pushed himself to his feet, trying to use Prompto for balance but not also not put too much of his weight on Prompto. They'd never get out of here quick enough if Prompto had to all but carry him. "Aye aye, Captain," he answered Prompto, not so far gone to his injuries that there wasn't a bit of amusement in his eyes as he said it.

Gladio steeled himself against the pain he knew moving would inflict, shoved it aside and focused instead on the adrenaline he could feel starting to seep its way into his blood. A move he was well versed in after the years of fighting he'd done. The old standby mantra of just get through the this, one foot in front of the other and get what needed to be done, done. Still using Prompto for balance he started off with them, trusting that he could focus on just getting his body to corporate and they'd tell him where to go.

For a few seconds that felt like hours, everything around Noctis just ... slid away. His awareness dropped, and all he could hear were gentle, faraway whispers telling him to draw more power from the Crystal, to slide his magic inside each and every person trying to hurt his friends and snap them. It would be easy. Effective. Painless. Like falling asleep, and Noctis felt so lethargic right then. This whole scenario was almost dream-like, the distant sounds of people fighting muffled and strange. It wasn't until he heard Prompto talking to him that Noctis struggled against the seductive flow of magic, everything coming back in one swift rush of noise that left him trembling in horror. What the hell was that?

There was no time to figure it out. Still shaken and breaking out in a cold sweat, Noctis pushed to his feet and quickly came around to Gladio's opposite side so he could help support his weight. "Here. Lean on me, too," he urged, hoping that between the two of them they'd be able to get him out of there faster. And if his voice wavered a bit, Noctis doubted anyone would notice. Not for the first time, he wished he'd spent more time trying to understand healing magic. It would have come in handy right then, but attempting more magic in the wake of those voices he could still feel reaching for him seemed ... ill-advised.

Luck seemed to be on their side, however, because when the three made it through the doors Prompto had pointed out, they were met with no resistance. Noctis released a shaky, relieved breath, even as his mind warned Don't drop your guard in a voice that sounded too like his father's for comfort. He glanced at his best friend again, trying not to think too hard on the fact that Gladio had clearly been beaten within an inch of his life and was bleeding profusely. "How close can they fly to us for pickup?" Noctis heard himself ask, feeling queasy with fear and uncertainty. His voice was even now, though. At least there was that.

A smile tugged at the corner of Prompto’s mouth at Gladio’s comment though it was gone quickly with a huff of a laugh because he needed to focus. If he didn’t keep his mind on the plan, he was afraid panic would sink into him because he just desperately didn’t want to lose them, didn’t want to lose Gladio and Noct, Celethe or Saevi. It was a terrifying responsibility to be saddled with but he was determined to carry it and not stumble. There was something… off about Noctis too, something Prompto couldn’t really put a finger on. If it had anything to do with magic, Prompto was at a loss to understand it, but that just fueled him to want to move them out of here faster. If Noct shut down, if he collapsed…

No, he wasn’t going to think about that.

Outside of the doors, Prompto was welcomed by the relative quiet and Celethe’s familiar face. Instantly, she circled around them to cover their backs now, holding her position close to the three of them. At the end of the hallway, Saevi was waiting to cover the front, but she was still turned away from them, sharp eyes scanning the area for movement. Finally they reached her, and she took point, moving ahead of them while Celethe stayed towards the back.

“Close,” Prompto whispered back. On his shoulder, the radio crackled a few times, a small few voices calling out and getting no response. It was a good sign, Prompto found himself thinking. Even if they were mobilizing more people now that the first wave was down, it seemed unlikely they’d run into much trouble.

As the doors that would get them outside finally came into view, Prom felt a squeeze in his heart. They were so close. “Saevi, tell them to bring it in.” With a nod, she reached for her comm device and gave the signal as the group continued to advance. He could hear the sound of the craft closing in and landing, engines loud in that enclosed space, just as a shout rang out behind them. Wordlessly directing Celethe to take up his spot at Gladio’s side, Prom told them to keep going, to get everyone on the cruiser as he pulled out his revolver and stood between the mercenaries piling into the main room and his friends. “Nobody look back,” he warned, too, spinning the chamber to find one of his special Starshell bullets. It would hopefully provide just enough of a distraction to get them out of here.

Aiming high, he fired and looked away just in time to not be blinded, but even with his eyes closed, the bright, disorienting light was strong enough to make spots appear in his vision. In the aftermath, all Prompto could hear were confused, expletive-ridden curses and he ignored a new pain in his shoulder as he pushed through the doors to join everyone. “Let’s get out of here. Everyone ready,” he asked as he took over at the pilot’s console, expertly getting everything in gear and looking at each face quickly.

It went against pretty much everything Gladio knew to be the one being carted out of a situation instead of the one doing the carting. But he knew trying to be a stubborn asshole and handling the commotion behind them as they moved for the exit would only make the situation that much worse. And besides, it looked like Prompto more than had a handle on it. So Gladio just simply focused on keeping his body moving, keeping himself from collapsing too much against the people at his sides. Even turned away from the source, Gladio winced as the place lit up. He'd forgotten how damn bright that could be.

It was only once they'd made their way onto the ship did Gladio's pace falter. The sound of doors closing behind them he collapsed onto the nearest surface that could pass as a chair and glanced around the group. "That everyone?" he asked, because wouldn't that just be the worst thing, to realize they'd left someone behind somehow.

Noctis exhaled a relieved breath when their transport came into view, but fear was quick on its heels the moment he noticed Prompto dropping away from the group. Everything in him screamed to stop, to stay at his best friend's side. Gladio needed him right now, though, even if it felt wrong in the extreme to remain turned away from Prompto. Please be safe, Noctis thought, desperately, before pressing forward without looking back, his jaw clenched tight the whole way toward the transport. The explosion of bright light offered some comfort at least. He'd seen (or rather, experienced) this little trick of Prompto's before, so he knew what was happening. A little. That meant he'd return to them pretty quick, and it was that confidence that propelled Noctis forward, helping Gladio onto the nearest bench.

Dropping to his knees, he tore off the top layer of his tunic and pressed it tight to the worst-looking wound, expression grim. The only relief came when he felt Prompto stride purposefully past him to the cockpit. "Yeah. We're all here, big guy," Noctis replied, finally, finally focusing on Gladio's eyes. What a relief it was to see that amber gaze again. "Keep looking at me, will ya? I need you to stay awake and alert." He watched as Fenris wordlessly proceeded to tear off bits of his scarf to create a makeshift tourniquet, so deeply grateful for Prompto and his crew. He'd have to thank them later. There was no way he could have done this alone.

"Ready!" He called to his best friend at the front. They were all together again. They would get through this.

As Prompto diligently performed each of the checks as fast as possible, he occasionally glanced over his shoulder to where Noct and Gladio were. It’s going to be okay, he told himself quietly as Fenris moved to help them. At his side, Saevi was giving him a look, tipping her head towards his shoulder that was obviously bleeding. So full of adrenaline though, Prom didn’t even really feel it though he had a feeling it was going to hurt later. At the same time, Prompto was focused on getting them out of here and back to the Praespero so that they could get Gladio to the med bay for Madeira to get him stable while they headed back to Andromeda.

“Strap in everyone,” Prompto instructed and Saevi spared him one last look that he knew meant she was going to tell Madeira about his shoulder if he didn’t say anything. Shaking his head with a small, half-hearted amused smile, Prom got the cruiser into gear and got them airbourne and headed back towards the ship. “We’ll be there soon,” he added, directed more towards Gladio and Noct and he tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice. Everything was going to be okay. It had to be.