Prompto squeezed Noctis' hand. There were red gouges in his wrist from the ties, the rest of his skin three shades paler than normal. “It'll be okay, Noct.”
Noctis choked back his tears. He was a piece of shit for forcing Prompto to comfort him right now. “You need a potion.” A doctor. A therapist. Noctis would get him anything he needed once they got out of here.
“Kinda,” Prompto said, trying for humour but his throat was scratchy and roar. His voice a croak.
“He needs--” Noctis cut himself off. He couldn't give them any excuse to hurt Prompto again. He might not survive another round. “Can I give him a potion? Please?”
The first man was sitting at the other table, a coffee in hand. He must be the leader of this sick shit show, the way he immediately assumed Noctis was talking to him. “You can give him one potion for every spell you make. Better work quickly.”
It wasn't like Noctis had a choice. Unfortunately Prompto hadn't been lying about the way magic drained him. He bartered for the two hi-elixirs they had. Three powerful spells as fast as he could make them. By the time he was finished, he could barely keep his eyes open but he made himself stand up. Pick up the elixirs. Head over to Prompto.
Prompto started violently when he approached but settled when he saw it was only Noctis. He handed over the elixirs and turned his back to give Prompto the privacy to use them. As much privacy as could be had in this place, anyway. When he turned back a little bit of colour had returned to Prompto's skin so maybe he'd helped with the physical stuff at least.
All his lessons, training, and private tuition and he still had no idea what to do or say. He wished Ignis was here. Not during what had happened. He'd wish that on no one. But Ignis always instinctively knew the best way to handle any situation.
That was the wrong thing to say. Prompto's eyes filled up with tears. He'd been doing such a good job of holding things together and Noctis had ruined it with a single sentence. “It wasn't you,” he said. “Don't be sorry.”
There'd have to be something deeply wrong with him for him not to be sorry. This was his fault. If he'd just made the magic like they said... “I could have stopped them.”
“Sure about that? Cause I kinda think guys who do stuff like--” Prompto winced and shuddered. “Probably aren't all that trustworthy. When you were out or asleep or whatever they did to you, they kept saying stuff about...” Prompto cringed into his shoulder rather than look at Noctis. “About what they were going to do to me.”
That all made perfect sense and Prompto was probably right. But it didn't make Noctis feel any less guilty. How was Prompto even capable of rational thought, right now? “You're amazing, you know.”
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timeasmymeasure
FILL Noctis/Prompto (or gen) Kidnapping 8/?
Date: 2017-03-07 12:27 am (UTC)Noctis choked back his tears. He was a piece of shit for forcing Prompto to comfort him right now. “You need a potion.” A doctor. A therapist. Noctis would get him anything he needed once they got out of here.
“Kinda,” Prompto said, trying for humour but his throat was scratchy and roar. His voice a croak.
“He needs--” Noctis cut himself off. He couldn't give them any excuse to hurt Prompto again. He might not survive another round. “Can I give him a potion? Please?”
The first man was sitting at the other table, a coffee in hand. He must be the leader of this sick shit show, the way he immediately assumed Noctis was talking to him. “You can give him one potion for every spell you make. Better work quickly.”
It wasn't like Noctis had a choice. Unfortunately Prompto hadn't been lying about the way magic drained him. He bartered for the two hi-elixirs they had. Three powerful spells as fast as he could make them. By the time he was finished, he could barely keep his eyes open but he made himself stand up. Pick up the elixirs. Head over to Prompto.
Prompto started violently when he approached but settled when he saw it was only Noctis. He handed over the elixirs and turned his back to give Prompto the privacy to use them. As much privacy as could be had in this place, anyway. When he turned back a little bit of colour had returned to Prompto's skin so maybe he'd helped with the physical stuff at least.
All his lessons, training, and private tuition and he still had no idea what to do or say. He wished Ignis was here. Not during what had happened. He'd wish that on no one. But Ignis always instinctively knew the best way to handle any situation.
“I'm sorry,” Noctis said. “I didn't think they'd-- I didn't know.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Prompto's eyes filled up with tears. He'd been doing such a good job of holding things together and Noctis had ruined it with a single sentence. “It wasn't you,” he said. “Don't be sorry.”
There'd have to be something deeply wrong with him for him not to be sorry. This was his fault. If he'd just made the magic like they said... “I could have stopped them.”
“Sure about that? Cause I kinda think guys who do stuff like--” Prompto winced and shuddered. “Probably aren't all that trustworthy. When you were out or asleep or whatever they did to you, they kept saying stuff about...” Prompto cringed into his shoulder rather than look at Noctis. “About what they were going to do to me.”
That all made perfect sense and Prompto was probably right. But it didn't make Noctis feel any less guilty. How was Prompto even capable of rational thought, right now? “You're amazing, you know.”
Prompto let out a hollow laugh. “Yeah, right.”