Rayne Drops (FFXV)

LIX) Salvation from Self

Merry Crisis!

I creep toward consciousness slowly, drawn in by the soft snores resonating through the room and the creaks of wooden boards over my head. I can't open my eyes; they refuse to peel back. I hear a creak and heavy footsteps drudging my way. Moments later, a warm hand presses to my forehead, brushing my hair away. I find just enough strength to catch it before it drifts away, and prying my eyes open takes a little from my dwindling reserves. Through bleary vision, I see Gladio staring back at me, eyebrow raised.

"Don't go," I mumble, my voice raw and raspy. My throat burns.

"Prompto's here," he replies softly, taking to a knee to see me better. "I gotta go help Cor with..."

"Don't..." My voice cuts off with a sharp prick to my esophagus. Wincing, I squeeze my eyes shut. Gladio sighs, sandwiching my lone hand between the two of his.

"I won't."

The next time I wake up, my eyes open much easier, though they burn with the ache to shut again. My entire body is sore, shooting pain striking through my right shoulder with every movement. Squinting against piercing lights, I force myself up on my elbow, looking around sleepily. The caravan looks nearly the same as it did when I left, if not a bit more settled. I guess they've just kept this place for themselves the whole time. Finders, keepers, I suppose.

"You're awake."

I jump, turning sharply to find the source of the low voice. I hiss when the movement tugs on the cut in my neck. Leaning against the headboard, I reach up to race my fingers over my source of pain. Fine, tight stitches tie my torn skin together, pinning it in place to heal. I sigh. I guess we're doing this the old-fashioned way, huh.

Ignis stands, walking toward my bedside with no hesitation, stooping lower so I can see more than the slightly wrinkled material of his shirt. The scars across his face have settled, growing darker and more worn down as new flesh faces the trials of life. His newer shades are darker, the paint chipped on one side. Aside from the flattening of the top of his once tall, spiky hair, he's still Ignis. Cringing against the pains in my body, I lean back on my elbow once more.

"Why're you here?" A startling thought crosses my mind and I feel my heart drop. "Is Cid...?"

"Cid is just fine," Ignis replies, shaking his head. He pauses, lifting his glasses hesitantly. "I returned once your recovery was made known to me. Cindy took over in my absence."

"@#$%, guess I'm important if you left your babysitting career behind," I tease with a soft laugh. My ribs scream in protest.

"Are you feeling alright now?"

"Just a little achy, I think. It'll go away."

"Rayne."

"I know," I sigh, shaking my head. "Don't sweat it, Iggy. I'm... better, I think. I've had time to think. I had a few pushes along the way, but I'm back for good. I'm not scared anymore."

"Good," he nods, crossing his arms. "Is there anything you need?"

"A news report?" I offer. "And a little help to the couch, if you don't mind. You seem to know the way around here still."

"It's been several days since my arrival," he replies, brushing my words off. "I've learned to find my way around newer destinations at any rate."

"And the fighting?" I inquire, reaching my arm out. Carefully, he pulls my arm over his shoulders, looping one of his around me. He holds me steady as I awkwardly hobble toward the couch.

"Perhaps the most improved by far." I can almost hear a hint of child-like pride in his voice. I can't help but smile. "I suppose I owe it to Cid, however. He forced me to leave Lestallum with the Glaive on occasion."