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“What the hell is up with you?” Gladio snaps when Ignis loses his footing and just barely avoids Gladio’s blade, for the third time. “If you’re not up for training, just say so! Better than letting yourself get cut in half by my sword.”
“I’m fine, ” Ignis insists, but Gladio isn’t buying it.
It’s not like he can’t see the dark circles under Ignis’ eyes, the way he responds just a bit too slowly to Gladio’s moves, and that his work calendar is so full Gladio had to scroll two months ahead just to find a free slot when he tried to send him a request to have lunch together.
“You’re done,” he decides, ignoring both the immediate protests and the death glare being sent his way. Would be more effective if it came from eyes that weren’t struggling to remain open, anyway.
“Very well,” Ignis finally grinds out, stalking towards his bag and snatching it up in one fluid motion. “I’ll be off, then.”
Gladio isn’t stupid, he knows Ignis won’t use this unexpected downtime for, you know, downtime. Instead, he’ll just get started on something else, or find even more work to do or something. By now, Gladio has witnessed this kind of thing often enough that he knows no amount of reasoning, bargaining or even pleading is going to do anything. People think him stubborn, but by the Six, they’ve never met Iggy.
There’s really nothing for him to do but watch and wait until Ignis inevitably crashes and burns.
And so, it barely comes as a surprise when Noct calls him in near-hysterics just two days later, babbling that “Gladio, something’s wrong with Ignis!” and Prompto, in the background, says something that sounds like “panic attack”. Barely a surprise because the only part of this that truly is surprising is that Ignis is apparently worse off than Gladio thought if he didn’t even manage to slink away like a dying cat in order to suffer his nervous breakdown away from the kids like he usually does.
When Gladio lets himself into Noct’s apartment, the first thing he sees is Noct, hovering by the kitchen almost in tears, eyes wide and scared. When he looks a little further, he discovers Iggy, sitting on the floor against the kitchen counter with his legs drawn up and his forehead resting on his knees. His breathing is even, so the panic attack seems to be over but he’s still riding out the aftermath.
Gladio’s a little surprised to see Prompto pressed up against his side, not hugging him but maintaining continuous physical contact, and he’s talking to Ignis in a hushed voice.
They seem to be doing alright for the moment - Ignis doesn’t look up even though he’s doubtlessly heard Gladio enter, and Prompto only gives him a weak smile and a thumbs up before he focuses on Iggy again.
So Gladio does the most obvious thing and goes to collect Noct.
“Bedroom, c’mon,” he says quietly, steering Noct towards the door with a firm hand on his shoulder.
“What happened?”
Noct shrugs and doesn’t meet his eye. “He burnt dinner, I think.”
“He burnt dinner? That’s it?”
“Yeah, I mean, I think so. He was in the kitchen cooking one minute and the next he’s dropping the pan, and then he starts hyperventilating and-” Noct trails off, gesturing helplessly. “Prompto sat with him and talked to him and got him to calm down, and eventually he got it out of him that apparently he burnt dinner. Shit, Gladio, I’ve never seen him like this.”
“I have,” Gladio says without thinking. Ignis is gonna resent him for it, he knows, but Noct needs to know this - something’s gotta give, and this might just be the thing that does it. “This isn’t his first panic attack, or even his second or third. He usually does a better job hiding, though.”
It has the desired effect. Noct freezes and stares at him, eyes wide and upset. “The hell does that mean?”
Gladio snorts. “It means that Iggy’s running himself ragged all the damn time and every now and then it’s just too much for him to handle.”
“Shit. Fuck. I never- you knew this happened to him?” Noct accuses, horrified. “How can we… is there anything we can do to help him?”
The question is so naive it almost pisses Gladio off, but another look at Noct’s genuine expression lets him pause. The kid’s truly worried for Ignis, and Gladio doesn’t think snapping at him now is gonna do any good. Witnessing Iggy’s breakdown probably does more for his sense of self-awareness than chewing him out ever could, anyway.
“Just don’t make life even harder for him, ‘kay?” he says, softening his tone. “Iggy’s got a workload none of us can even imagine, he doesn’t need to be picking up after you all the time too.”
“Not saying this is your fault and no one else’s,” he quickly adds because he sees Noct’s expression cloud over into one of self-loathing. “It’s partially your fault, maybe, but those assholes at the Citadel just won’t give him a break, he’s nearly due for his Crownsguard exams so he’s been picking up extra training sessions, and he’s terrible at delegating shit so he just ends up doing everything himself. It’s just… It’s all too much, no one could handle that in the long run.”
Noct nods, still doubtful but Gladio can see the determination in his eyes. “I’ll do better. I don’t- I can’t see him like that again. I won’t. ”
“Good. He sucks at taking care of himself, so we’ll have to make sure he does it.”
For now, the first step of that plan is to get Ignis up and into bed and also turn off his alarm so he can catch up on some sleep.
Ignis doesn’t protest when Gladio hauls him up and drags him to Noct’s bedroom, which is a telling sign in itself, and when he’s deposited on the bed, he’s out like a light the moment his head touches the pillow.
Gladio turns off the alarm on Ignis’ phone - set for 4:30 in the morning - and goes to ready the guest bedroom for Prompto and himself.
Looks like they’re going to have a sleepover.