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He’s not there.
Prompto is gasping for air before he can even register that he’s awake. His body is shivering horribly, his face a wet, sticky mess as his palms wipe at his cheeks. He can hear himself heaving but he can’t stop it.
He can’t stop it.
His feet are already pushing on the mattress and he’s escaping from the comfort of Gladio’s arms. Any other night, and he might have turned his face to bury himself in the alpha, but his dream is echoing in his mind, bouncing around and consuming and he can’t-
He can’t fucking escape.
The living room is welcoming as he bursts into the room. The scents aren’t as heady here, and Prompto feels like he can finally catch his breath. His hands still shake as he lowers himself onto the floor, curling up and resting his head on his bent knees. He doesn’t even entertain the thought of sitting on the couch.
Flashes of things he doesn’t want to see force their way into his thoughts. Hands prying his legs open, fingers prodding at tender skin, nails biting into his ribs. Prompto is lucid enough to know it’s not real, but the ghosts of all the touches are overwhelming.
Another heave wracks his body. The taste of bile in his mouth makes him wince.
“Prompto,” Gladio’s voice is soft as it cut through his jumbled thoughts.
Prompto could hear his approach, but he can’t find the will to unfurl himself from his scrunched-up spot on the floor. He wished his racing heart to calm; Usually the alpha’s scent can soothe him like a warm blanket, but he’s still too shaken to give in to the temptation.
His demons have their claws in him, and they won’t let go.
Gladio moved slower than he ever had before. He approached his shivering omega with appraising eyes, waiting for any signal that his presence was unwanted, or god forbid feared. When he received no such signal, he gingerly lowered himself to sit beside Prompto. There’s a few inches between them, but Gladio is willing to wait for Prompto to close the gap.
The ball is in the omega’s court, as it always has been. Gladio is just here to cheer him on and to encourage him forwards.
They sit like that for a while. Gladio isn’t well versed in playing therapist; he leaves that job to Ignis. Eventually, Prompto’s body relaxes and his head turns to look at the alpha.
“Sorry,” is the only thing the blond whispers.
Gladio instinctively reaches out to cup his cheek and offer support. His hand pauses halfway between them though when he remembers how the omega had been shaking. When Prompto offers him a weak smile, he reaches out the rest of the way to touch him softly.
“Don’t be,” Gladio whispers back.
Prom’s eyes close as he preens under the rub of Gladio’s thumb. He isn’t sure if he can handle much more, but even the littlest amount of affection from this alpha has always been enough to sate his inner needs.
“Do you… want to talk about it..?” Gladio’s tentative voice breaks the quiet.
Prompto takes a deep, almost-even breath before he dares to meet the alpha’s gaze. “Not really.”
Gladio’s hand leaves his jaw to trace over the back of his head, threading over his shoulder and gently tugging him close. Words may not be Gladio’s strong point, but he knows how to comfort with touch. His heart flutters when Prompto leans into his touch, resting his head against his shoulder.
They sit like that for a long time. Gladio’s fingers trace up and down Prompto’s forearm as he listens to the omega’s breathing. Every now and again he can scent his agitation and fear in the air, but with a soft kiss to the crown of his head, his omega calms.
It makes Gladio feel like he’s walking on air. He almost misses when Prompto speaks.
“It’s hard to forget,” he whispers. “I wish I could… wipe my memories again, or something…”
Gladio’s hand pauses. He looks down to Prompto, but the omega keeps his eyes shut tightly as he continues to speak.
“It feels like, no matter how hard I try to push the memories away, they’re still there… I want to get better, Gladio, I really do, but sometimes… it feels… like…” Prompto chokes on the last words, unable to properly voice his feelings. He knows what he wants to say; he wants to tell the alpha about the paralyzing fear. The utter terror that this may be some comatose fever dream, and that none of it may be even real. He wants to vomit about how stifling it feels, to receive so much love and care but to still be stuck in his mind, where his demons laugh as they torture him.
How he feels like he doesn’t deserve any of this.
“You know,” Gladio starts softly. His fingers resume their tracing of Prompto’s soft skin. “I’ve felt hopeless before, too.”
Prompto stiffens as he registers the words. Gladio is desperate to hold him and comfort him, so he’s willing to try anything to soothe the omega. Even if it means baring his soul and speaking words he’d buried deep down a long time ago.
If Prompto was forced to face his demons, then Gladio could do it as well.
“Noctis was injured when we were younger,” he explains. “He barely survived. During the time when we… didn’t know… I felt like I had failed.”
Prompto’s head finally lifts as looks up at Gladio.
“What happened?”
“It’s his story to tell,” Gladio answers. “But I hadn’t been able to protect him like I should have. It took me a long time to recover from that.”
There’s another moment of silence. Prom’s eyes are inquisitive as he stares up at him, nearly pleading for him to speak more.
Gladio collects his thoughts before he adds on, “Mentally recover.”
Prompto bites his lip as he contemplates the thought. “How did you distract yourself?”
Gladio swallows nervously as his hand stutters in its stroking. Prompto turns towards him, his curiosity taking over.
“Tell me, please,” Prompto urges carefully.
“I…” Gladio glances away, his cheeks pinkening. Prompto’s eyes widen as he realizes- the alpha is embarrassed. He nearly crawls into his lap as he asks him to tell him again.
“Fine,” Gladio mumbles as his arms close around the omega. “I masturbated. A lot. Got my mind off of things.”
Gladio winces as he spits the words out, waiting for Prompto to pull away, no doubt disgusted. Mental images of Ignis scolding him flash through his mind.
A loud laugh brings him out of his thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” Prom manages between giggles. “That’s just… is that an alpha thing?”
Gladio shrugs. He’s happy that Prompto found it amusing, but he’s still hoping that he doesn’t mention this to Ignis. “I think it’s a teenage boy thing.”
“Oh,” Prom says as he quiets down, resting his head on Gladio’s shoulder.
The silence is different now; Prompto’s scent isn’t sour anymore, and his trembling has mostly stopped. There’s still a hint of sadness in the air though.
Gladio takes the opportunity to rest his head on top of Prom’s, cradling him impossibly closer. A hum starts in his chest, almost instinctive. The moment is reminiscent of his younger years, when Iris would awake from nightmares. She’d crawl into his bed, face tear-stained as she cried out for her father. Gladio had stepped up and taken responsibility, happy to comfort her when she needed it. The tune he hums is the same as back then.
When Prom rubs his face against Gladio’s collarbone in response, the alpha decides to turn the humming into singing.
That’s how Ignis finds the pair some time later; Prompto is asleep on Gladio’s chest, huddled against his broad chest. Gladio has one arm wrapped around him, his other hand carding softly through his blond hair. His voice is low as he sings, nearly crooning the words just for Prompto to hear.
There’s a small smile on Prompto’s sleeping face. Ignis decides to leave them as they are, returning to their bed knowing that their omega was safe and taken care of.