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[As Gladio stares at the fourth message that continues to go unresponded to just like the rest, he's decided he's just about had it with the silent treatment. He doesn't need this, especially not now, and so it seems like he's going to have to hunt Noct down to have a well-needed talk now that he's returned to the temple.

He could very well simply grab Prompto, but he's aware that he happens to be unwell and doesn't want to put him through that sort of stress. As for Ignis... Gladio doesn't think he's ready to speak to him just yet, to look into those clear green eyes just as he remembers them being, not behind shut eyelids and scars permanently etched over his face.

Fuck, of course he's the one that has to deal with Noct all on his own, again, and the frustration begins to build up again as he stomps through the temple grounds in search of his prince.]

[It isn't that Noctis hasn't heard those messages going off, but the fact of the matter is - he's embarrassed, that he can't answer them. He can't see it, that alone isn't something he wants to admit by blindly tapping at a screen until he can get the voice mode up. No one needs to worry about this, it's not a... big deal. He can handle it.

Okay it sort of is a big deal, but Noct doesn't want anyone worrying more than they already are. Mostly everyone is sick, this is just an additional thing, it's possibly unrelated!

On the upside, Gladio won't have to go very far to find Noct where he is sitting out around the training grounds. It's the only place he can find without needing to see, where the ground is dirt, so his steps are quieter. The dirt is surrounded by rocks, large enough to feel out under his feet through his shoes. The benches nearby - don't offer much, except a place to sit all wrapped up in his blanket with his legs drawn up.

But he does raise his head from his knees when he hears someone approaching, and despite how well he knows he has just been seeing things, what he thinks he sees with that gait is someone he hasn't seen since he was a small boy. Lately, he feels like he's been thinking too much about him, and how he wanted to remember his father best - and this was it. As a strong man with no magic ring sucking the literal life out of him. With no stress of war, with the ability to protect himself-]

Dad?

[Noct says it even if he knows on too many levels that it can't be, but with how he opens his eyes and strains to try and see, he tries to let himself believe for a second if it could be true.]

[The inside of the temple leads him to nothing, and even when Gladio happens across the room he recalls the four of them had all settled into, he finds it to be empty. A brief twinge of panic hits him only to settle when he takes a glance upon the freshly made beds and finds articles of clothing he recognizes. Prompto's jacket, Ignis' as well. So they're around, just not in there room. And that in itself isn't a good sign. Having already spoken to Prompto already, he knows he's unwell. He's not sure what the status of the other two are but he knows for a fact Ignis wouldn't let them out of his sight or wander about if they were just as sick.

This doesn't make any sense. Now feeling even more frustrated, Gladio decides to hit up familiar places, starting with the training grounds. He hears no footsteps, no voices, approaching inside and glancing upward from the entrance toward the seating area.

He sees it first, a head of messy black hair, a body bundled up in a blanket. Gladio turns and as he ignores the unpleasant swell of anger that washes over him he prepares to call out Noct's name, demand what he's even doing out here--

His voice catches in his throat and his face falls completely.

"Dad".

The ground seems like it might drop out from under him, but Gladio puts himself back together in swift time and swallows down the lump in his throat as he begins to step forward, his voice a gruff audible tone.]

I'm not that old, brat.

[Oh.

It isn't that he isn't happy to hear Gladio's voice after losing him in Struxta, but the disappointment he feels makes his shoulders visibly droop. No, of course not, of course his father wouldn't be here - and never will be here. No matter how many times he thinks he sees him, thinks he hears him, he can't be here of all places. Magic doesn't work that way. He said it himself to Connor even, and he knows it's true.

Noctis still tries to stand, wobbling a bit when he rises because sitting had been so much easier, and he tries to ignore how much everything sucks right now because Gladio is back. Blearily trying to look through his bangs, Noct never quite makes eye contact even as he fumbles a couple of weak steps forward.]

H-haha, yeah right, you probably do have some gray hairs by now though, huh? [He has to quiet the thought, he has to keep it down, he really doesn't need to get stuck on something he can't change like this. He still sort of wishes...]

[There's too much effort visibly placed into the way Noct stands himself up and begins to hobble his way toward him, and Gladio absolutely hates the instinct that hits him to rush toward his side and give him a steadying hand. For a moment nothing else matters, it's like this is the only moment he has to work with, none of those old memories haunt him.

Except he takes that first step, and he doesn't see Noct but Ignis. Hand precariously outstreched, slow footsteps, eyelids closed. Broken. Damaged. Blind.

Gladio grits his teeth and clenches his hands into fists.

He has to tell himself that these feelings won't go away if he punches Noct in the fact right now.]

I wouldn't be surprised. [It's his weak retort before he finally steps forward more assuredly, but he doesn't set a hand on Noct, doesn't even reach out for him, just stands before him as he waits for him to walk closer.]

Iggy should skin you alive for bein' out here. You're as sick as everyone else, aren't you?

I'm... alright, I guess.

[No, he's not alright, but the less he says the better honestly. He already makes people worry and now is just another time for it. Following the sound of Gladio's voice because it's just so much easier than trying to strain his eyes in the minimal lighting he can see, Noct's judgement about just where Gladio is to stop however isn't all that great. He just walks right into him for a moment, thumping briefly before he raises his hands to put a proper distance between them and keeps his head tipped just down enough that his bangs block his face.

Hopefully that wasn't a tip off to just how poor his condition is.]

I wanted to try some fresh air, the room just tastes stuffy.

[Gladio can only scoff, and the fact that Noct doesn't seem to stop walking until he knocks right into him, seemingly intentionally, solidifies his reasoning to not believe Noct for a single second. He doesn't like this. Noct isn't even looking at him, he hasn't made eye contact since he saw him and it's not the intentional kind like he's avoiding him or trying to ease out of confrontation. He wouldn't have bumped into him if that was the case.

There's a sinking feeling in his stomach that's been there since he got there, and now, it's only worse.]

That's a load of bullshit. [He grumbles, then reaches forward to try to push Noct's hair out of his face so he can get a better look at him.]

The worst has passed I'd say. I can keep food down now.

[Noct doesn't grimace until that hand is already on his head trying to push his hair around, and he tips his head away trying to escape - but the contact alone is easily enough to feel how clammy his skin is. Sweat soaked hair, certainly a fever, even a closer inspection of the blanket will show some snot streaks on the lower half because it's just been easier when he can't get around so well.

Trying to tuck the blanket more securely around himself and taking another step back, even if it makes it harder to know just where Gladio is, Noct focuses his eyes a bit past him as he tries to squint. At least if he makes some expressions it might not be so obvious - but it is, if Gladio can properly catch his eye.

Just a hint of cloudy fog smothering blue.]

[It's not hard at all to miss the texture of his skin, sweat-damp and feeling far too warm, strands of hair matted to his forehead. But it's not the most concerning part.

No, that's the furthest from the problem. Gladio swears his heart stops in his chest and he nearly snaps his hand back as if burned.

He remembers.

Gladio remembers the look of Ignis' unscarred eye the moment he woke up. That clouded film of gray smothering the look of his formerly vibrant, sharp green iris. Moving his finger from left to right, and his eye wouldn't follow him. He couldn't. He couldn't see.]

Noct.

[It almost sounds as if he's pleading before his voice stiffens, darkens considerably and his hand is locked against Noct's shoulder underneath the bulk of the blanket.

No, no no no this can't be happening, this isn't happening.]

What happened. Look at me. Tell me. [That familiar burning fury begins to bubble up.

He can't go through this again he refuses.]

[His tone is all Noct needs to hear to know that he was more obvious than he hoped. Frowning, turning his head down to let his hair slip down again, trying to cover it up even if Gladio already seems to have figured it out, he grunts as that grip on his shoulder grows tighter.]

We apparently brought back some crud from Struxta. Mostly everyone is sick - except any robots or androids. I don't know, it started like a cold and just progressed to this. [And hallucinations, and losing his sight, and some inability to feel just what temperature he is. Going into the details more than he need to though, Noct doesn't want to, because he can already hear it.]

Look, this wasn't something anyone could keep themselves out of, I was careful when the storm hit.

[Having gone through a plethora of long, complicated events back home, it takes Gladio a while to even recall what the heck Noct is even talking about. Struxta? That's right, the last city, the place with all the high-tech stuff and barely any living matter, no trees or books, that shithole he couldn't wait to leave from. And then he left, during some kind of storm.

That explains why he's been surrounded by so many sick people. They got sick from that place. It happened to Prompto, and Noct went blind.

Gladio's hands suddenly go slack as they fall from Noct's shoulders.

It happened again. He keeps not doing enough. He keeps letting them all down.

It doesn't matter that Noct can barely see him. Gladio still steels his expression so the utter wretched defeat he feels doesn't show on his face, but it's still there in the way he grits his teeth, how he wrenches his eyelids shut, how his hands ball into fists at his sides so he can't strike out at something. So he doesn't reach out and punch Noct in the fact like that would be the thing to cure him, that would knock him back into his senses, that would make everything normal.

Look at what you allowed to happen, you pitiful King's Shield.]

How-- [He hates the lump in his throat and how audible it is in his voice. Gladio swallows it down.]

How d'you fix it?

[Hesitating with how he feels the tension in the air, fully aware of how much Gladio doesn't know from the last several weeks, Noct gives this tired smile even as he reaches a hand out and seeks - he's not intending to get too close, he just wants to know where he is now that he's already been found out. Eventually, his hand finds Gladio's arm, just carefully touching at his elbow.]

I don't know. We set up some three point system with spikes, uhh, shot some data at it or something. I hung back and just helped restart the locals who went down with the storm surges, there wasn't anything else I could do anyway.

[Gods that smile absolutely devastates him, and when Noct actually begins to reach out toward him Gladio almost flinches away. He can't touch him, it's not right, he can't even bring himself to take his hand to lead it to where he is so Noct knows that he's still here-- barely. He feels like such utter shit.

The hand settles at his arm and Gladio can do nothing but stay put.

All he see is Ignis' weak form wavering as he stands from a bed, reaches out to find a support, because he can't see. Ignis may be blind forever.

What about Noct?]

No-- No, I don't mean the storm, whatever that was, what happened, I don't care. [He continues to keep his hands at his side, he doesn't move, he can't bring himself as he stares down at Noct's miserable state.] I'm asking about you. How do we fix you?

[Yeah, of course Gladio doesn't care all that much about what happened in Struxta - it was long enough ago, and his rule of staying out of trouble was mostly heeded and yet he still turned out like this. His expression quiets out, dampens, because when he is actually asked about how to fix this sickness, Noct doesn't have an answer. Drifting his hand away, letting go because there's no reason to hang on like that - he knows where he is now - Noctis fixes his blanket again instead as a way to try and shift this tension around.]

It's... I don't know. I want to say it's getting better, the sickness part is finally going away. [He doesn't know if his sight will return, it doesn't entirely feel like it has changed much but - at least he isn't seeing things in his head anymore. Another part of how much Noct doesn't want to explain what has happened to him, but now that he is just standing here, he tries to shift it again instead of simply answer.]

Are you feeling alright? I think we've all been passing it to each other and crap, so even some of the people who just arrived have been getting the sniffles.

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