Days passed. No one talked about Ignis, except for the news, which didn’t release Ignis’ name or what exactly had happened to him, but said he was still in hospital (and then stupid fucks talked about what that meant since the victim had had access to healing magic, if he was just that damaged to still be in hospital, and they didn’t even want to say brain injury except they were clearly thinking it, and they were wrong, wrong, wrong—).
The rest of the world seemed to forget that Ignis existed at all.
He existed, Noctis told himself. Of course Ignis existed. He just… didn’t exist within Noctis’ life, any more.
Noctis went to school and the therapy they’d scheduled him in for without asking whether he wanted or needed it. He did his training and stayed over a few odd nights at Gladio’s place, where he finally managed to get a full night’s sleep, lying there and listening to the sound of Gladio breathe, trying to feel safe enough to close his eyes.
He didn’t really feel like he existed, either. The whole world felt on pause. Or maybe he was the one on pause.
Three weeks later, Noctis got an email telling him that Ignis would be returning to work on Monday. Three days’ time. It didn't say anything else important — didn't say how he was, if he was better, if he was happy. If he ever wanted to see Noctis ever again.
On Monday, Ignis turned up at his rooms to bring him lunch, tidy up a little, and take him to school.
'Good morning,' he said, and he looked — he looked the same as he always did, not thinner or paler or whatever Noctis had been imagining, the stereotypes for people having been in hospital. Ignis looked fine, but then as Noctis stood there and stared at him like a fucking idiot, he hesitated, pleasant smile cracking, visibly taken aback.
Noctis was ready to go. He'd been ready for twenty minutes, actually, eaten breakfast and washed and dressed and got everything in his school bag. He still just stood there, watching Ignis pick up the junk he’d left lying around, and the words he'd been rehearsing all weekend trying and failing to form on his tongue.
'It's okay if you wanna quit,' he didn't say. 'I get it if you want to move to another job, do something that you like that isn't to do with me.'
'Are you ready to head off?' Ignis said finally, and it sounded so normal Noctis was nodding and grabbing his bag before he could stop himself.
'Sure,' he said. 'Let's go.'
He went to school. On the way Ignis told him about his weekly schedule (still minimal, and Noctis wondered if Ignis was being given half duties as well, or if he'd been shoved back into his full-time job and own studies already). He asked how Noctis' schoolwork was going, and whether he needed help in anything. He commented on the retirement of one of the senior Crown lawyers that had happened and apparently Noctis ought to have known about.
It sounded like a recording of something Noctis had already watched, a cutscene in a game he was being forced to rewatch. 'Right,' he said. 'Got it. Sure.'
He sounded distant and distracted even to himself.
He needed to ask how Ignis was. Make some kind of conversation -- any kind. Say how glad he was that Ignis was out of the hospital, finally. Ask what the food was like. Make a joke about the good drugs.
They pulled up outside the school; Noctis mumbled a thanks, got out, and went inside.
He thought he wouldn't be able to concentrate through school, but it was okay. Things went back to how it had been — flat, like Noctis was watching from behind himself. Gritty with exhaustion. And he and Ignis hadn't said anything other than was normal, standard, what they always talked about. That was — that was okay, right? Better that it was completely standard than something weird and wrong and abnormal, right? And maybe, maybe Ignis didn't actually want to leave him.
Or if he did he'd wait a while first and Noctis could at least enjoy having him until he did leave. It'd probably be that, because it wasn't like Ignis to ignore something like Noctis being kidnapped, and the fact that he was acting normal was therefore abnormal.
So yeah, he was probably waiting for something before he left, or... moved department, or whatever. Noctis wondered if Gladio knew, but Gladio had been terse and flip-flopping between intense and casual, friendly and professional since the incident, and trying to guess what he'd be like at that moment made Noctis' head hurt. And Gladio never wanted to speak about Ignis. Noctis got it — Gladio felt like he should have been there, should have been the one to protect Noctis, since that was literally his job. And sometimes when Noctis was terse back, it was because he wished it had been Gladio instead of Ignis, because since it was Gladio's job he wouldn't be about to leave like Ignis was.
Then he felt bad, because he shouldn't want any of his friends to have been tortured, literally their job or not. And Gladio would probably have told him if he knew something about Ignis, because he could be an asshole sometimes but he wasn't — wasn't an actual asshole. Not like some people were. He’d let Noctis stay with him, after all, set up a camp bed so they’d be able to sleep in the same room without Noctis having to even ask for it. They’d eaten junk food and played games and watched crappy movies, and he’d clearly tried hard not to be weird.
Then they’d gone back to sniping at each other, trying to connect like they’d used to and missing somewhere in the middle.
He’d thought the world would go back to how it should be now that Ignis was back. It hadn’t. Waiting for Ignis had been his one solution, and now? He had no fucking clue.
Since he didn't have any homework and wasn't expected to do his evening lessons or keep up with the Citadel's daily shit, Ignis didn't actually need to do anything except drop Noctis and a few files off. He still drove Noctis back from school and walked him up to his rooms, like he’d used to always do when he had actual reason to. He carried Noctis’ bag, as if that justified the journey up, then hesitated in the doorway.
‘I — are you in need of anything?’ he said, as he handed Noctis his bag so Noctis could fish out the keys and unlock the door. ‘I realise there’s nothing in the way of homework, or—‘
There wasn't anything, no excuse to invite him in. Saying, hey, want to come in and hang out, was weird when Ignis probably didn't want anything to do with him any more. He couldn’t exactly ask Ignis to come in and clean for him, either. And Ignis always let himself in whenever he wanted to. At least, he had.
'Uh, no,' Noctis said, but Ignis didn't move, and Noctis couldn't exactly shut the door in his face. 'But, thanks, I mean.'
Why was he still standing there? Did he want Noctis to invite him in so he could tell him he was leaving in private? As soon as possible?
'Noct,' Ignis said, eventually, then trailed off again. He shifted, glancing down to the floor, to the doorframe, back to Noctis. 'I suppose I should be off, then,' he said. He still didn't move.
'Yeah. If you want. You probably have work and stuff to do, right?'
'Ah, no. They've actually relieved me of a good deal of my duties. Just for the time being, while I... recuperate. They had been pushing for extended leave, my uncle especially, but I—' He stopped himself. There was something wrong about him — something in the way he stood, his eyes flickering to and from Noct like he couldn't bear to look at him for longer than a few seconds at a time. Something in his voice, hesitant in a way it never was.
'Yeah,' Noctis said, just to say something to fill the awful, awkward silence between them. Silences with Ignis were never awkward. Annoyed, sure, or upset, or pointed, whatever. Even really, really angry, furious to the point of wordlessness, sometimes — just never awkward.
'Yes. I — Noct, could I come in? I wanted to say something, and I thought it'd be better inside than standing in the corridor. Not that it’ll take long, and I can come back later if you have other things to be doing, or I can say it tomorrow morning or after school, of course, if that's better for you.' He stopped because he ran out of breath, it seemed like, rather than anything else.
'Now's good,' Noctis said, then regretted it, because this was Ignis saying he was going to quit, wasn't it? But he couldn’t take it back now. And whatever was best for Ignis. He stepped back, kicked off his shoes, and went to dump his bag on the table. He didn't look back at Ignis, and the achingly familiar sounds of him taking his shoes off and setting them to the side, putting on the pair of guest slippers that were unspokenly his.
But Noctis had to do what was best for Ignis. And if that meant letting him quit, and leave, then he'd do it. Because it was his fault Ignis had been hurt. Because he wanted Ignis to be happy, even if it meant being happy without Noctis.
Ignis unbuttoned his jacket, looked almost about to shrug it off, then kept it on. He sat down on the edge of the couch, and Noctis slumped down on the arm of the chair opposite, balancing with one foot on the cushions, back to the wall. After a moment he slid down to sit properly on the chair.
'I'm glad you're all right,' Ignis said, fidgeting. 'At least — in as much as can be expected. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. In the last three weeks, that is. But I hear you… Gladio had you over a few times.'
Noctis stared at him, though he was looking down at his hands, and didn't see. 'Specs,' Noctis said. 'You were in the hospital. You — yeah you weren't there, but it's not like — Specs, you were in the hospital.'
'For three weeks longer than necessary,' Ignis said, then, quickly, all in one breath: 'Noct, if I make you uncomfortable or am unpleasant to be around due to associated memories, I understand completely and will of course step down from my position.’
For a split second, Noctis didn't understand. The words did not register, could not string together in his head into anything coherent at all. Then he figured it out, and he didn't even know what the emotion was that hit him, hard. Ignis was framing wanting to leave as doing it for Noctis' benefit. Was the sudden tightness in his chest hurt, or anger? Or just the grief at the confirmation that Ignis did want to leave after all, because even if Noctis had known it he'd still kinda hoped that, maybe, just maybe, he'd been wrong.
Was Ignis really going to make him say he wanted him to go?
Because he didn't. He really, really didn't. He wanted Ignis to stay, more than anything, even if it mean he was selfish and terrible and an awful person, much less friend.
'Don't leave,' he said, and it didn't matter if he was a shitty person, the worst in the world, because even if he were shitty he'd still have Ignis. Ignis would stay no matter how much he fucked up, so long as he asked. 'Specs, don't leave. Don't leave me.'
If Ignis just stayed long enough then they could work things out, make things better. But they couldn't ever do that if Ignis left.
He didn't know what he'd do without Ignis.
'Noct?'
He couldn't lift his head to look, see the disappointment that he knew would be on Ignis' face. He pressed his eyes shut because they were burning, threatening to start crying. He sniffed loudly, too, because his nose was about to run as well.
Ignis exhaled, shaky, small. 'Noct,' he said. 'I won't leave you, if you don't want me to. And I'll stay if you want. Whatever you want. Please, Noct, don’t cry.'
'But—'
'What do you want? Please, I can do it.'
Noctis looked up, and sat there while Ignis leant forwards until he tipped off the couch and shuffled across the room on his knees. 'Noct.' The sound of his desperation froze Noctis, holding him paralysed as Ignis arrived between his legs. For a second Noctis thought Ignis would touch his knees, could already feel the heat and weight of him on his skin, but instead Ignis placed his hands on the cushion either side of Noct's legs.
He was still staring down, stupid, when Ignis said: 'Noct, please tell me what you want. I can still — whatever it is, I'll do it.'
Without meaning to, Noctis reached out and grabbed the shoulders of Ignis' jacket. Ignis was shaking.
'You,' Noctis said. 'I want you. I — of course I do, why wouldn't I? Specs, why wouldn't I?'
'I hurt you. They told me, when I wasn't — they said I hurt you.'
'Bullshit. No you didn't.'
Ignis opened his mouth, but all that came out was the sound of a gasping inhale, and then exhale, shaky. ‘Oh,’ Ignis said.
‘Who said it? Who said you hurt me?’
‘No,’ Ignis said, immediately withdrawing, and Noctis knew with a bite of frustration that he wouldn’t be able to get it out of him, at least not now. ‘No one. I just — why didn’t you—’
Noctis almost would have said it was a decoy away from whoever fucker told Ignis that lie, except that Ignis was still withdrawing, looking sideways. He was pulling back, trying to tug his shoulders from Noctis’ grip.
‘Why what?’
‘Nothing,’ Ignis said, promptly, but it was too late, because Noctis wasn’t letting go of this one, too.
‘Why didn’t I what?’
‘Noct, it’s nothing; please forget it.’
‘It’s why didn’t I visit you, right?’ The realisation hit even as he was talking, the words falling from his mouth the same instant he knew, one hundred percent, that it was exactly what Ignis meant. He felt his stomach drop, go cold, then his whole body burn hot with shame.
‘Please,’ Ignis said again. ‘That was stupid of me. I realise they must have told you no if you’d asked, and tried to dissuade you from asking besides. They didn’t allow me my phone. Not even a computer with internet access. My uncle stayed with me. He didn’t want me to come back for months.’
‘Specs,’ Noctis tried to say, but Ignis shook his head and cut him off. His hands on the couch were balled into fists.
‘I was only allowed back because I said exactly the right things to the doctors, and begged very well. Noct, I would have been back sooner. I should have been. I’m sorry I wasn’t. I kept — I sat there, waiting to hear that you’d been hurt, that they’d succeeded this time, only I kept thinking too that maybe they simply wouldn’t say and I wouldn’t know until I got out, and—’
Noctis let go of his jacket to grab him properly, hands around his upper arms, but then didn’t know what to do with him — push him away, pull him closer. Ignis was breathing hard, forced slow and deep, his head dipped, clenching the cushions of the couch like they were his lifeline. The muscles in his arms twitched and jumped under Noctis’ hands.
‘It’s fine,’ Noctis said, without knowing why it was fine, or if it even was fine. ‘Ignis, it’ll be fine. You’re here now. No one hurt me.’
‘And I’m here to stop them, now, if they mean to,’ Ignis said.
Noctis paused. Then he said, ‘Yeah. I know. Specs, stay with me? For the night. We can go to yours and grab your stuff, then come back. You can cook. Sleep in the spare bedroom if you want, or share mine. If you didn’t mind, I mean. Just for tonight. If you want.’
Ignis’ ragged breath held for a moment, then turned into a quiet laugh, equally ragged. ‘Yes. I can do that,’ he said. ‘I’d like to do that.’
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Ignis stood. ‘Come on, then, Noct,’ he said, and smiled, not quite the way he always did, but close enough. ‘We’d better hurry if we want to be back here before my uncle gets home from work.’
He offered a hand out. Noctis took it and let himself be pulled up.
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timeasmymeasure
FILL: Gen, Ignis self-mutilating himself to save Noctis [3c/3]
Date: 2018-08-21 11:41 pm (UTC)The rest of the world seemed to forget that Ignis existed at all.
He existed, Noctis told himself. Of course Ignis existed. He just… didn’t exist within Noctis’ life, any more.
Noctis went to school and the therapy they’d scheduled him in for without asking whether he wanted or needed it. He did his training and stayed over a few odd nights at Gladio’s place, where he finally managed to get a full night’s sleep, lying there and listening to the sound of Gladio breathe, trying to feel safe enough to close his eyes.
He didn’t really feel like he existed, either. The whole world felt on pause. Or maybe he was the one on pause.
Three weeks later, Noctis got an email telling him that Ignis would be returning to work on Monday. Three days’ time. It didn't say anything else important — didn't say how he was, if he was better, if he was happy. If he ever wanted to see Noctis ever again.
On Monday, Ignis turned up at his rooms to bring him lunch, tidy up a little, and take him to school.
'Good morning,' he said, and he looked — he looked the same as he always did, not thinner or paler or whatever Noctis had been imagining, the stereotypes for people having been in hospital. Ignis looked fine, but then as Noctis stood there and stared at him like a fucking idiot, he hesitated, pleasant smile cracking, visibly taken aback.
Noctis was ready to go. He'd been ready for twenty minutes, actually, eaten breakfast and washed and dressed and got everything in his school bag. He still just stood there, watching Ignis pick up the junk he’d left lying around, and the words he'd been rehearsing all weekend trying and failing to form on his tongue.
'It's okay if you wanna quit,' he didn't say. 'I get it if you want to move to another job, do something that you like that isn't to do with me.'
'Are you ready to head off?' Ignis said finally, and it sounded so normal Noctis was nodding and grabbing his bag before he could stop himself.
'Sure,' he said. 'Let's go.'
He went to school. On the way Ignis told him about his weekly schedule (still minimal, and Noctis wondered if Ignis was being given half duties as well, or if he'd been shoved back into his full-time job and own studies already). He asked how Noctis' schoolwork was going, and whether he needed help in anything. He commented on the retirement of one of the senior Crown lawyers that had happened and apparently Noctis ought to have known about.
It sounded like a recording of something Noctis had already watched, a cutscene in a game he was being forced to rewatch. 'Right,' he said. 'Got it. Sure.'
He sounded distant and distracted even to himself.
He needed to ask how Ignis was. Make some kind of conversation -- any kind. Say how glad he was that Ignis was out of the hospital, finally. Ask what the food was like. Make a joke about the good drugs.
They pulled up outside the school; Noctis mumbled a thanks, got out, and went inside.
He thought he wouldn't be able to concentrate through school, but it was okay. Things went back to how it had been — flat, like Noctis was watching from behind himself. Gritty with exhaustion. And he and Ignis hadn't said anything other than was normal, standard, what they always talked about. That was — that was okay, right? Better that it was completely standard than something weird and wrong and abnormal, right? And maybe, maybe Ignis didn't actually want to leave him.
Or if he did he'd wait a while first and Noctis could at least enjoy having him until he did leave. It'd probably be that, because it wasn't like Ignis to ignore something like Noctis being kidnapped, and the fact that he was acting normal was therefore abnormal.
So yeah, he was probably waiting for something before he left, or... moved department, or whatever. Noctis wondered if Gladio knew, but Gladio had been terse and flip-flopping between intense and casual, friendly and professional since the incident, and trying to guess what he'd be like at that moment made Noctis' head hurt. And Gladio never wanted to speak about Ignis. Noctis got it — Gladio felt like he should have been there, should have been the one to protect Noctis, since that was literally his job. And sometimes when Noctis was terse back, it was because he wished it had been Gladio instead of Ignis, because since it was Gladio's job he wouldn't be about to leave like Ignis was.
Then he felt bad, because he shouldn't want any of his friends to have been tortured, literally their job or not. And Gladio would probably have told him if he knew something about Ignis, because he could be an asshole sometimes but he wasn't — wasn't an actual asshole. Not like some people were. He’d let Noctis stay with him, after all, set up a camp bed so they’d be able to sleep in the same room without Noctis having to even ask for it. They’d eaten junk food and played games and watched crappy movies, and he’d clearly tried hard not to be weird.
Then they’d gone back to sniping at each other, trying to connect like they’d used to and missing somewhere in the middle.
He’d thought the world would go back to how it should be now that Ignis was back. It hadn’t. Waiting for Ignis had been his one solution, and now? He had no fucking clue.
Since he didn't have any homework and wasn't expected to do his evening lessons or keep up with the Citadel's daily shit, Ignis didn't actually need to do anything except drop Noctis and a few files off. He still drove Noctis back from school and walked him up to his rooms, like he’d used to always do when he had actual reason to. He carried Noctis’ bag, as if that justified the journey up, then hesitated in the doorway.
‘I — are you in need of anything?’ he said, as he handed Noctis his bag so Noctis could fish out the keys and unlock the door. ‘I realise there’s nothing in the way of homework, or—‘
There wasn't anything, no excuse to invite him in. Saying, hey, want to come in and hang out, was weird when Ignis probably didn't want anything to do with him any more. He couldn’t exactly ask Ignis to come in and clean for him, either. And Ignis always let himself in whenever he wanted to. At least, he had.
'Uh, no,' Noctis said, but Ignis didn't move, and Noctis couldn't exactly shut the door in his face. 'But, thanks, I mean.'
Why was he still standing there? Did he want Noctis to invite him in so he could tell him he was leaving in private? As soon as possible?
'Noct,' Ignis said, eventually, then trailed off again. He shifted, glancing down to the floor, to the doorframe, back to Noctis. 'I suppose I should be off, then,' he said. He still didn't move.
'Yeah. If you want. You probably have work and stuff to do, right?'
'Ah, no. They've actually relieved me of a good deal of my duties. Just for the time being, while I... recuperate. They had been pushing for extended leave, my uncle especially, but I—' He stopped himself. There was something wrong about him — something in the way he stood, his eyes flickering to and from Noct like he couldn't bear to look at him for longer than a few seconds at a time. Something in his voice, hesitant in a way it never was.
'Yeah,' Noctis said, just to say something to fill the awful, awkward silence between them. Silences with Ignis were never awkward. Annoyed, sure, or upset, or pointed, whatever. Even really, really angry, furious to the point of wordlessness, sometimes — just never awkward.
'Yes. I — Noct, could I come in? I wanted to say something, and I thought it'd be better inside than standing in the corridor. Not that it’ll take long, and I can come back later if you have other things to be doing, or I can say it tomorrow morning or after school, of course, if that's better for you.' He stopped because he ran out of breath, it seemed like, rather than anything else.
'Now's good,' Noctis said, then regretted it, because this was Ignis saying he was going to quit, wasn't it? But he couldn’t take it back now. And whatever was best for Ignis. He stepped back, kicked off his shoes, and went to dump his bag on the table. He didn't look back at Ignis, and the achingly familiar sounds of him taking his shoes off and setting them to the side, putting on the pair of guest slippers that were unspokenly his.
But Noctis had to do what was best for Ignis. And if that meant letting him quit, and leave, then he'd do it. Because it was his fault Ignis had been hurt. Because he wanted Ignis to be happy, even if it meant being happy without Noctis.
Ignis unbuttoned his jacket, looked almost about to shrug it off, then kept it on. He sat down on the edge of the couch, and Noctis slumped down on the arm of the chair opposite, balancing with one foot on the cushions, back to the wall. After a moment he slid down to sit properly on the chair.
'I'm glad you're all right,' Ignis said, fidgeting. 'At least — in as much as can be expected. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. In the last three weeks, that is. But I hear you… Gladio had you over a few times.'
Noctis stared at him, though he was looking down at his hands, and didn't see. 'Specs,' Noctis said. 'You were in the hospital. You — yeah you weren't there, but it's not like — Specs, you were in the hospital.'
'For three weeks longer than necessary,' Ignis said, then, quickly, all in one breath: 'Noct, if I make you uncomfortable or am unpleasant to be around due to associated memories, I understand completely and will of course step down from my position.’
For a split second, Noctis didn't understand. The words did not register, could not string together in his head into anything coherent at all. Then he figured it out, and he didn't even know what the emotion was that hit him, hard. Ignis was framing wanting to leave as doing it for Noctis' benefit. Was the sudden tightness in his chest hurt, or anger? Or just the grief at the confirmation that Ignis did want to leave after all, because even if Noctis had known it he'd still kinda hoped that, maybe, just maybe, he'd been wrong.
Was Ignis really going to make him say he wanted him to go?
Because he didn't. He really, really didn't. He wanted Ignis to stay, more than anything, even if it mean he was selfish and terrible and an awful person, much less friend.
'Don't leave,' he said, and it didn't matter if he was a shitty person, the worst in the world, because even if he were shitty he'd still have Ignis. Ignis would stay no matter how much he fucked up, so long as he asked. 'Specs, don't leave. Don't leave me.'
If Ignis just stayed long enough then they could work things out, make things better. But they couldn't ever do that if Ignis left.
He didn't know what he'd do without Ignis.
'Noct?'
He couldn't lift his head to look, see the disappointment that he knew would be on Ignis' face. He pressed his eyes shut because they were burning, threatening to start crying. He sniffed loudly, too, because his nose was about to run as well.
Ignis exhaled, shaky, small. 'Noct,' he said. 'I won't leave you, if you don't want me to. And I'll stay if you want. Whatever you want. Please, Noct, don’t cry.'
'But—'
'What do you want? Please, I can do it.'
Noctis looked up, and sat there while Ignis leant forwards until he tipped off the couch and shuffled across the room on his knees. 'Noct.' The sound of his desperation froze Noctis, holding him paralysed as Ignis arrived between his legs. For a second Noctis thought Ignis would touch his knees, could already feel the heat and weight of him on his skin, but instead Ignis placed his hands on the cushion either side of Noct's legs.
He was still staring down, stupid, when Ignis said: 'Noct, please tell me what you want. I can still — whatever it is, I'll do it.'
Without meaning to, Noctis reached out and grabbed the shoulders of Ignis' jacket. Ignis was shaking.
'You,' Noctis said. 'I want you. I — of course I do, why wouldn't I? Specs, why wouldn't I?'
'I hurt you. They told me, when I wasn't — they said I hurt you.'
'Bullshit. No you didn't.'
Ignis opened his mouth, but all that came out was the sound of a gasping inhale, and then exhale, shaky. ‘Oh,’ Ignis said.
‘Who said it? Who said you hurt me?’
‘No,’ Ignis said, immediately withdrawing, and Noctis knew with a bite of frustration that he wouldn’t be able to get it out of him, at least not now. ‘No one. I just — why didn’t you—’
Noctis almost would have said it was a decoy away from whoever fucker told Ignis that lie, except that Ignis was still withdrawing, looking sideways. He was pulling back, trying to tug his shoulders from Noctis’ grip.
‘Why what?’
‘Nothing,’ Ignis said, promptly, but it was too late, because Noctis wasn’t letting go of this one, too.
‘Why didn’t I what?’
‘Noct, it’s nothing; please forget it.’
‘It’s why didn’t I visit you, right?’ The realisation hit even as he was talking, the words falling from his mouth the same instant he knew, one hundred percent, that it was exactly what Ignis meant. He felt his stomach drop, go cold, then his whole body burn hot with shame.
‘Please,’ Ignis said again. ‘That was stupid of me. I realise they must have told you no if you’d asked, and tried to dissuade you from asking besides. They didn’t allow me my phone. Not even a computer with internet access. My uncle stayed with me. He didn’t want me to come back for months.’
‘Specs,’ Noctis tried to say, but Ignis shook his head and cut him off. His hands on the couch were balled into fists.
‘I was only allowed back because I said exactly the right things to the doctors, and begged very well. Noct, I would have been back sooner. I should have been. I’m sorry I wasn’t. I kept — I sat there, waiting to hear that you’d been hurt, that they’d succeeded this time, only I kept thinking too that maybe they simply wouldn’t say and I wouldn’t know until I got out, and—’
Noctis let go of his jacket to grab him properly, hands around his upper arms, but then didn’t know what to do with him — push him away, pull him closer. Ignis was breathing hard, forced slow and deep, his head dipped, clenching the cushions of the couch like they were his lifeline. The muscles in his arms twitched and jumped under Noctis’ hands.
‘It’s fine,’ Noctis said, without knowing why it was fine, or if it even was fine. ‘Ignis, it’ll be fine. You’re here now. No one hurt me.’
‘And I’m here to stop them, now, if they mean to,’ Ignis said.
Noctis paused. Then he said, ‘Yeah. I know. Specs, stay with me? For the night. We can go to yours and grab your stuff, then come back. You can cook. Sleep in the spare bedroom if you want, or share mine. If you didn’t mind, I mean. Just for tonight. If you want.’
Ignis’ ragged breath held for a moment, then turned into a quiet laugh, equally ragged. ‘Yes. I can do that,’ he said. ‘I’d like to do that.’
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Ignis stood. ‘Come on, then, Noct,’ he said, and smiled, not quite the way he always did, but close enough. ‘We’d better hurry if we want to be back here before my uncle gets home from work.’
He offered a hand out. Noctis took it and let himself be pulled up.