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“Noct!” Prompto moved on instinct. He saw the arm pull back, the glint of a blade in the late afternoon sun before it soared through the air. Noctis had his back to them, deep in a conversation about a close-by fishing spot with Ignis. He wouldn’t see it coming, wouldn't have time to dodge. Prompto’s feet, his whole body really, moved on its own accord as his training kicked in. There was no time for fear, no time to panic as he threw himself in front of the dagger.
A scream ripped out of Prompto’s throat as the dagger hit him, his hand. His vision went white, the pain taking over his whole being for the moment, making everything else muted and far away. Prompto thought he might have heard Gladio roar — an angry, protective sound that was reserved only for when one of them was hurt. A wet gasp left Prompto’s lips as he shifted and pain sparked through his hand, sharp and vicious. He curled protectively around his hand, belatedly realizing he wasn’t standing anymore, but lying on the ground. The gravel was rough against his temple but he barely noticed it as he opened his eyes to slits. A terrified noise, one between a gasp and a sob, left his lips as his gaze landed on his hand — and the dagger that had impaled it.
Panic ignited inside Prompto’s chest and stole his breath away. He jolted into a sitting position, a scream on his lips but then Ignis was there, instructing him to breathe, hands gentle, one on his face, one on his arm. Just follow my lead. In...out. That’s good, you’re doing great, Prompto.
Prompto tried, he really did. Breathe in, hold, then slowly release and repeat. Ignis’ eyes were kind and patient. There was no disappointment, no annoyance on his face at all. A sob burst from Prompto’s lips and then there was another figure by his side, hugging him gently. Noctis. Prompto leaned against him and breathed in the familiar, comforting smell of his friend. Noctis wasn’t hurt. If Noctis was hurt, Ignis would be with him, not with Prompto. Prompto hiccuped. He needed to be sure. “You’re— you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, all thanks to you,” Noctis assured him. He sounded slightly out of breath. “Iggy, how is he?”
“The dagger impaled his hand. I’m afraid we will have to remove it ourselves which won’t be a pleasant task,” Ignis said. He was as calm as ever but there was an undertone of worry in his voice. “We cannot use a curative before the dagger is out of the way.”
Prompto’s lip trembled and he drew in a shuddering breath. He brought the injured hand closer to his chest. “That— that’ll hurt? Like, a lot?” It was a stupid question, he knew. Of course it would hurt, they would be pulling a dagger out of his hand! Prompto wiped tears from his eyes with his good hand. It was already hurting so much. “I— I can’t— “
“Prompto, it will be alright.” Ignis squeezed Prompto’s knee softly. “As soon as it’s out, we can use a curative on it and it’ll be as good as new. Time is of essence, however, and we need to do this as soon as possible.”
Ignis turned to look at Gladio, who had at some point appeared on Noctis’ other side. “I will need you to hold him down, make sure he doesn’t move and injure himself further. You too, Noct. It won’t be easy but it is the only way. We’re far from a hospital.”
Prompto whined at the words and Noctis pulled him closer in response. He could feel the tension radiating from Noctis and realized none of the guys were any happier about the situation. The only difference was that he was the one that could feel the pain. Could feel the blade in his hand, the blood dripping down his hand. The pain was already excruciating. How was he going to survive having the dagger pulled out? It wouldn’t be as fast, Ignis would have to be careful to keep the blade as stable as possible to keep it from causing more harm.
“Blondie, look at me,” Gladio said, now from next to Ignis. Prompto swallowed hard and did as told. There was an unreadable expression on Gladio’s face, a mix of worry and something akin to...pride? Prompto whimpered. Gladio dropped to his knees and offered a strip of leather to him. “Bite down on that. We’ll do this as fast as we can, okay?”
Prompto nodded shakily and reached for the leather strap. He blinked the tears from his eyes as he looked at each of the guys. They were so good to him. “I— I trust you.”
As the guys had promised, they worked fast. Prompto still screamed, the sound barely muffled by the leather strap between his teeth. It hurt, white-hot and excruciating. The world spun in his eyes. A sickening feeling was building in his stomach and he was sure he was going to throw up but then the blade shifted again and he blacked out.
He came back to, when a curative was broken over his hand and a calm and cool sensation spread through his hand and up his arm, replacing the burning pain. The world was still spinning, Prompto realized he was trembling and overall feeling as weak as a kitten. He pulled the leather strap out of his mouth with his good hand.
“You back with us?” Gladio asked. His voice was rougher than usual, and when Prompto shifted his head to look at him, he could see an oddly shaken expression on the Shield’s face.
“Y—Yeah,” Prompto replied weakly. He brought his newly healed hand up with some difficulty — he really was absolutely drained — and looked at the thin pink line that remained of the wound. There was still a tiny ache in his palm but it was way more manageable than what it had been. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” Noctis exclaimed. He grabbed Prompto from under the armpits and pulled him so he was sitting up and leaning against his chest. “What are you sorry for? You saved me. Us. There’s nothing to apologize for!”
“Noct is correct,” Ignis said, putting his hand on Prompto’s knee. He was smiling softly. “You did really well. If you hadn’t been as observant today, things could have gone a lot worse.”
“You should listen to them,” Gladio told him and squeezed Prompto’s shoulder. “You did good.”
“Aww, you guys!” Prompto couldn’t help but blush under the praise. He dropped his gaze down to his lap, pondering on his next words. “I’m just happy Noct is okay. I just acted. I couldn’t let him get hurt.”
They talked for a while longer and Prompto’s blush only deepened as the guys praised his actions. Soon, though, it was time for them to leave as the night was starting to fall. Despite Prompto’s protests, he found himself in Gladio’s arms as the Shield carried him towards the Regalia. There was no way he would have made the walk on his own, not when he was still feeling shaky from the whole ordeal, and the guys had known it. There was a bit of good natured ribbing and everyone was in a good mood. In the end, Prompto fell asleep before they even reached the car.