*crawls out of the hole* hello! I'm aware it's been almost a year, and I sincerely hope there's still people around to read this. I accidentally convinced myself this whole entire chapter sucked, and so I didn't touch it for months. Came back to it a few days ago and realized it was actually not bad at all, so I did the final edits and here we are!

UH, remember that Major Character Death tag? Yeah, I removed that now. Part of why it took me so long to update was because I was determined to follow through with the entire thing, but I just couldn't. So the boy survives. Rejoice! Sorry to anyone who wanted the painful route, but I just couldn't do it.

For now, I hope you enjoy! *hops back down into the hole*

It was difficult at first, without them. Without Noct. But it became easier over time. Or maybe it didn't, but Gladio adapted. Not like he had much of a choice.

With the darkness came the daemons, and whilst he had no more King to protect, there were still people, civilians who had never learnt to fight or defend themselves. Gladio did his best to keep the people of Lucis as safe as possible, along with the Glaives, but it was a neverending struggle. No matter how many daemons they slew, new ones kept showing up. And now that there was no daylight at all, they grew much bolder than before, getting closer to well-lit places like Lestallum in a way they hadn't dared before.

Iris wanted to help, wanted to join him on the increasingly dangerous hunts he took on, but he wouldn't let her. Not yet. She did have excellent combat skills, she'd received the same training he had. Standard process, in case Gladio died in the line of duty. Noct would still have needed a shield, even if Gladio were dead. But she was still too young, too inexperienced, and Gladio refused to take any chances when it came to her. She hadn't been happy with him, but he'd convinced her to stay in Lestallum for the time being, until she was good enough to join him.

(Deep down, buried under the part of him that was proud, so very proud of her, he hoped she would never be good enough. He wasn't going to let the only family he had left get herself killed, not if he could do anything to prevent it.)

Prompto hung out with Cindy a lot, helping her with just about anything, but he'd started taking on hunts of his own recently. Gladio didn't like it. But he had to admit Prompto could handle himself in combat just fine, these days. He'd grown a lot since they'd left Insomnia, in both skill and attitude, and pride washed over Gladio whenever Prompto called to report any progress and setbacks and told him about the daemons he took down all by himself. Pride, and relief, for every time Prompto returned alive.

Ignis, of course, was training to go back to fighting as well. No amount of yelling, reasoning or even - as much as Gladio hated to admit it - pleading worked on him. And people thought Gladio was the stubborn one. Yeah, right. For now, Ignis was taking care of Cid, because he couldn't go without a person to fuss over even if it killed him. But Gladio knew he was training harder than ever. He wanted to be mad at him, it would've made things a lot easier. But the thing was that he understood why Iggy couldn't just sit back and let the others do the dangerous work. Gods knew Gladio would have been the same if he were in Iggy's position.

The thing was, Iris was, in theory, the only family he had left. But really, Prompto and Ignis (and Noct, the voice in his head whispered to him what he was trying so hard not to think about) had become just as much family to him over the years they had spent together. With both of them out there risking their lives on a daily basis, Iris' presence helped him a great deal. Knowing her safe in Lestallum, at least for the time being, was a relief.

Gladio had never been so grateful for the Armiger connection before. It allowed him to make sure both Ignis and Prompto were still alive even if they didn't have time to call or Gladio was too busy to get in touch. There were a few times where he could feel them fade and it nearly made his heart stop.

Once, Prompto had been poisoned in combat without an antidote left - curatives, without Noct around to make them and no way of knowing when he would return, were strictly rationed - and only barely made it back to Lestallum alive. Really, it was more luck than anything that he was still alive after that, but that near-death experience didn't keep him from throwing himself back into battle the second he was deemed healthy enough.

It resulted in an argument that left both of them hurt and shaken and upset. Gladio nearly stormed out, see if he cared if Prompto got himself killed, but by the gods, he did care. He cared so much, and the world they lived in was so dangerous, and he wasn't about to leave angry at Prompto even though there was a very real possibility it would be the last time they saw each other.

So he stayed. He let Prompto yell at him until the yelling turned into angry tears, and then he walked up to Prompto and silently wrapped him up in his arms. Prompto pressed himself close, sniffling pathetically and mumbling apologies.

"I'm sorry too," Gladio said, quietly. "Just promise you'll be careful out there, yeah?"

Prompto nodded. "You, too," he demanded.

"I promise."

They spent the night together, huddled close in the too-small bed. But they had spent countless nights just as close in a tent, and human contact, these days, was a comfort everybody craved. And so, even though they were incomplete, it was the best Gladio slept in months.

The next day, Prompto still took on another mission, and Gladio returned to the Glaives, but he made sure to remember his promise every time he fought.

Another time, Ignis, during the exploration of one of the royal tombs, lost his footing, fell nearly two stories, and got himself impaled on an iron rod.

Things between him and Ignis were… difficult. Ignis, it seemed, felt the need to prove himself to Gladio over and over, prove that he wasn't weak or worth less because of his disability.

(As if Gladio would ever think of him as either of these).

Especially in the beginning, he'd often set his own expectations way too high, pushing himself to do unrealistic things, and then getting uncharacteristically frustrated when he inevitably failed. When Ignis got frustrated, Gladio got frustrated too, and things usually turned ugly real fast.

When that particular expedition went downhill and Gladio witnessed the aftermath after dropping by when Ignis was still healing only to find him already up and about and trying to convince the doctor to clear him even though his legs were still visibly shaking and all the blood had drained from his face, Gladio snapped.

He shouted at Ignis, and shouted more loudly when Ignis tried to argue back so he had no chance to interrupt. He went on a long rant he barely remembered afterwards, telling Ignis about everything. His fears, his nightmares that involved Iris, Prompto, and Ignis taking turns dying the most horrible deaths imaginable. His worries that weren't because he didn't believe they weren't capable or Ignis was an invalid or whatever, but because he fucking loved them too much, gods damnit!

After that, Ignis fell quiet, and when he did speak again, apologies spilled from his lips. His voice sounded pained, full of regret, but at least he seemed to get it now.

Much like he had done with Prompto, Gladio squeezed him tight and took comfort in the way Ignis hugged back.

When they parted ways, it was with yet another promise to take care of themselves. Gladio intended to honor both of his vows, and he hoped Prompto and Ignis would do the same.

He could feel Noct, too. His energy was somehow both faded and more intense at the same time. It felt… strong, yes, but not like the Noct Gladio was used to. Only when he really focused on him, he could still feel Noct. Otherwise, it was just the crystal; powerful, but lacking the familiarity of Noct.

Still, Noct was still there, he was supposed to return, and it would be fine. In the meantime, they just had to make sure to keep things going, just until he returned. It would be fine.

Except, it wasn't.

Noct returned, stronger than ever. Apparently, spending ten years in the crystal had increased the strength of their connection, and at first, it was almost overwhelming. The feeling of Noct was everywhere and drowned out everything else, even Ignis and Prompto. It took a while, but once Gladio got used to it, he found that his connection to them, too, had grown even stronger.

It left him feeling full and happy and as if he could take on the world with his bare hands. Even when they returned to the ruins of Insomnia, the feeling of them drowned out the sorrow, the anger, and the fear until they were nothing more than a distant memory.

He felt whole.

And then Noct went fought Ardyn all by himself, hidden from their eyes as they stood their ground against the daemons in front of the Citadel. They fought with all their might, but for every daemon they killed, two new ones showed up to take its place. They were only delaying them, but even that became more and more impossible the longer they wore themselves out. Nothing could stop them.

Nothing, except for Noct.

Nevertheless, they stood firm, fueled by fear and adrenaline and hope, and sheer luck that kept them from obtaining anything more than superficial wounds.

And then, several things happened at once.

The daemons started to disintegrate all at the same time, screeching horribly with rage and pain, but Gladio barely noticed. He gasped and doubled over at the sudden agony in his chest, an all-consuming pain that left him with spots in his vision and blood rushing in his ears. He'd gotten stabbed through the chest before. Once, during the Darkness, one of the samurai daemons had skewered him and nearly killed him. But even that couldn't compare to the pain he was in right now.

When it died down - after seconds or hours, he couldn't tell - there was a hollowness he'd never felt before spreading through his entire body, horribly empty as if he had lost a limb, but everywhere instead of concentrated in one spot. Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

It took him several seconds to understand what happened. Only when he saw Prompto on the ground, clutching his chest and sobbing uncontrollably, and Ignis stumbling, disoriented in a way he hadn't been since he'd first lost his eyesight, he realized he could no longer feel any of them.

"No-" he breathed and sank to his knees.

They had failed. He had failed. He was Noct's shield, supposed to protect him with his life. Yet here he was, alive, and Noct was gone. He had to be, it was the only way to cut the Armiger connection. Noct was gone, because Gladio had failed him.

He took a moment to let himself fall apart, just for a few seconds. And then he stood up, slowly, even though his soul felt as if it were torn apart and he wanted nothing more than to curl in himself and break down. He couldn't. If he let himself break now, if he let his knees buckle and give in to the awful feeling that was eating him alive, he knew he would not get back up. But he had to, for their sake.

First, he went to collect Iggy. Grabbed his shoulder and pretended not to notice the utterly heartbroken expression on Ignis' face as he gently lead him towards Prompto.

Prompto looked up at them, made a choked noise and all but threw himself at him and Ignis when Gladio pulled him up from the ground.

Reflexively, Gladio wrapped his arms around both of them and held them as physically close to him as he possibly could. It wasn't enough to ease the pain, would never be enough anymore. But it was all he could do to remind himself that they were still there, they were alive and breathing and mostly uninjured, unlike-

They stayed like that, for how long Gladio neither knew nor cared. The sun rose steadily behind them, the daemons were gone, but Gladio felt no joy. There was only anger, at the gods, at Ardyn, at himself and at the unfairness of it all. And beneath the anger was what it was masking. Grief, loss, bone-deep sadness. The knowledge that he would never feel whole again.

Ignis, in a desperate attempt to collect himself, tried to pull away from them, only half succeeding both due to Gladio and Prompto holding on to him and his own unwillingness to let go. "We should…"

His voice broke, but Gladio nodded, understanding anyway. "Yeah…"

Everything inside him wept as they walked into the citadel with only their hands connected, wrong, not enough, wrong, wrong, wrong, and then they stood in front of the throne and Gladio wanted to scream.

There was Noct, sitting on the throne, impaled by his father's sword. He was pale and lifeless and absolutely nothing could have prepared Gladio for the sheer agony the image brought.

He gritted his teeth and choked down a sob as he forced himself to let go of Prompto's and Ignis' hands to walk towards the throne, towards Noct as steadily as he could. He was Noct's Shield, and he had failed to protect him. The least he could do now was to free him from his burden and lay him to rest.

Gladio grabbed the sword's handle, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and pulled it out of Noct's chest. He threw it aside, not caring what happened to it, and reached out to catch Noct when he slumped forward without the sword holding him up.

Noct barely weighted anything when he gathered him in his arms. Yet Gladio's knees threatened to buckle under the burden when he slowly made his way down the steps to lay Noct down on the floor in front of Ignis and Prompto.

He watched as Ignis reached out with a shaky hand to check Noct's pulse and confirm what they already knew, and as Prompto took Noct's limp hand pressed it to his own cheek, struggling to keep himself together. Gladio himself found himself simply staring at his King, feeling hollow and cracked inside, and he couldn't help but wonder, what now?

What now? The thought circled in his head as he kept his gaze on Noct, unable to tear it away. He took in the bruises, the hair and the beard that made him look so much like King Regis. The gruesome wound in his chest from the sword, and-

Gladio sucked in a sharp breath, blinked the tears away and pressed one hand to Noct's chest as the other flew to his neck, frantically searching for a pulse. He held his breath, his heart hammered in his ribcage and he prayed to the gods he'd grown to hate, asking for one last kindness after everything they'd put them through.

And then, the tears started flowing anew for an entirely different reason when he finally detected a weak pulse and felt Noct's chest rise and fall beneath his hand ever-so-slightly.

"Guys," he whispered, voice hoarse and thick with emotion. "He's not gone, he's-"

Prompto stared at him with wide eyes, unable to comprehend and reluctant to hope. "What?"

"Gladio, do not-" Ignis pleaded desperately, and it nearly broke Gladio's heart again, but they had to believe-

"No, no, I swear, there's a pulse! He has a pulse- Noct is not dead. They brought him back, he's alive!"

"How? I checked, he was-"

"I don't know, don't care, we gotta get him to a doctor fast."

Because even though Noct was somehow, magically not dead, he should be dead even without any stupid prophecies and meddling gods and whatnot. There was a gaping hole in his chest that needed treatment as soon as possible, and there was no way Gladio was going to risk him dying all over again.

Somehow, they managed to stumble out of the citadel, to find Cor and the Glaives. A doctor was summoned immediately, and when he tried to whisk Noct away for treatment, he quickly had to realize there was not a single force in the universe that could have pried the three of them away from Noct now. And so he reluctantly agreed to let them hover as he sewed Noct shut and bandaged him up.

The sun was up, the daemons were gone. People were celebrating. They were out in the streets, shouting the name of the King of Light who had banished the darkness.

Said King did not notice a thing, as he was out cold in a giant bed with his three companions protectively curled around him.

Ignis and Prompto were dead asleep, their injuries taken care of and their weary bodies and minds no longer able to resist the temptation of rest. But Gladio found himself wide awake in spite of the exhaustion that was settled deep in his bones. He couldn't rest now and leave them unprotected; the mere thought made his heart race with near-panic.

The hollowness inside him was still there, he knew it would never go away now and figured it would take a long time to get used to it. But he could work with this, he thought, with his friends all here, safe and alive and in his arms. Right now, he couldn't imagine letting them go ever again, could barely even bear the thought of not being in the same room as them. He was afraid to blink because he worried one of them would be gone when he looked again, having grown so used to the connection that was always there, until it wasn't.

But that was okay. With time, they would heal. They would be alright.

Until then, Gladio would gladly watch over them.

It Is Done! I really liked writing this chapter (is what I said about every chapter I think, but it's the truth). At times, it felt almost a bit too poetic/dramatic, but then I remembered I was writing from Gladio's POV and I bet the dude has the ability to express himself exactly like that.

I'm... kind of tempted to write a sequel or something similar set in the same AU-ish setting. But considering how slow I am at getting shit done and how much my own brain antagonizes me, I'm not making any promises. Just, maybe someday. Big maybe.

I do hope you guys liked it! I certainly had a blast writing it and it's one of my favourite works so far. Thank you for sticking with me, even through this long hiatus! See you soon, hopefully!