Work Text:
Loneliness was both a new sensation and an all to familiar feeling. They had self-help books, audio-recorded, all of which said that no other person can complete another, we come whole. Ignis was fairly certain, that he was the exception. The loss of his sight was nothing in the comparison to the loss of Noctis.
Love had always hurt. Never having been able to press his lips to Noctis was among the cruelest realities that settled among the aches and pains that had started to build from the age of six. Often Ignis pondered if he was more a collection of heart breaks and less of a person. Dramatic, but drama suited him.
Sitting waist deep in his tub, soaking in his ration of the water – did nothing to calm the turmoil. He came here to cry, for some dastardly reason – the tears would not escape. Of course, they had come in the morning and the nights. Not that time had much meaning these days, still before bed and after bed.
He had a roommate, neither Prompto nor Gladio. They had agreed to stay together through the disaster and the loss. It had taken less then a year for that plan to fall apart. They all cared for each other, met when they could, but responsibilities kept them apart. Gladiolus and Prompto found more time together than they did with Ignis, none-the-less. Perhaps because they were closer, geographically. Or maybe they just cared for him less. Ignis didn’t know
It seemed Ignis was destined to only cry silent and willing his roommate to not see. He needed to scream, needed to howl, to plead, to seek out and hold Noctis. None of which were possible. He wanted only two things. To wrap Noct around him and to kill Behemoth. Both equally as impossible as his needs.
All things were painful without Noctis. Getting up, sitting down, sleeping, moving, eating. Pulling himself out of this six-forsaken bath. He thought often of slipping down in to the water and sleeping there. But he needed to be breathing air, to see Noctis one last time. Even if it ripped what was left of the frail and weeping heart buried in his chest. And he would not put Noctis through the pain of having to mourn him, in the prince’s own last day. When ever it came.
So for now, Ignis cried morning and night, ate when he could stomach it, slept with painkillers, and listened to old love songs on repeat till his earbuds died. He charged them. Plugged them in. Started the process over and over.
When someone you love is no longer by your side, tears were free to shed and fear was easy to sink into.
Still, you must go on.