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Dragged Away

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Prompto hummed to himself as he wandered through the narrow alleys of Lestallum. Gladiolus was taking his sister out for dinner, and Ignis and Noctis opted to stay at the hotel to “rest”, however the photographer was pretty sure they were banging.

It was just as well. Though supportive of his aspirations, all of them could get a bit huffy when he was lost in the light and shadows of his world.

Speaking of which, the way the lines of the shadows from the fire escape on the back of that old factory played with the grooves of the brick façade was really interesting—


Later that evening when his friends came looking, they found his broken camera smeared with blood and drag marks that lead to the end of the alley and abruptly disappeared after that.


There was no ransom. No threats. For two weeks, there was not a word.

The prince and his retinue quietly searched the entire city, but no other sign of their friend was found.

In desperation, they called Cor.


The Immortal found Prompto at a haven. He had to kill four people—well, he probably didn’t have to kill them, but he certainly wanted to kill them—to get to the young gunman.

A stake had been driven into the hard earth of the Haven near the perpetual fire. Prompto was bound to it—on his knees in the dirt, ankles and wrists ties behind the pole, with an additional rope around his neck. The skin around the ropes was rubbed raw and getting infected in places. What few clothes he was still wearing were dirty and spattered with dried blood. Fresh bruises bloomed over old, and cuts adorned his freckled skin; the worst of which were the words Niff Scum carved into his chest.

He was still alive, and that in and of itself was a miracle.

Cor set to work healing what he could and bandaging the rest before calling for a pick-up.


Prompto woke in a hospital bed. Noctis was squished into an oversized chair with Ignis and both were leaned against the other, dozing. Across the room, Gladiolus stood sentry at the door, staring out into the hall.

The increased beeping of the heart monitor alerted the warrior to Prompto’s state of wakefulness, and he strode quietly to the side of the bed. Wordlessly, he offered the photographer a drink from a Styrofoam cup, which the blonde gratefully accepted before falling back into a heavy sleep.


Prompto woke again and found that Ignis and Gladiolus had gone…somewhere. Noctis, however, had migrated over to the bed itself. He was laying half in and half out of it, doing his best to not squish any of the cords and wires sticking out of his friend.

“I was so worried about you,” Noctis murmured when he saw those lavender eyes open and took Prompto’s hand in his.

“Sorry.” Prompto breathed out, giving his friend his best impression of a smile. “Won’t let it happen again.”

“No,” Noctis said quietly. “I won’t let it happen again.” The prince squeezed his fingers reassuringly.

Prompto nodded slowly, eyes drooping. “Kay.” And he was asleep once more.