#kcartist

Two held onto Gladio, but they were quickly losing their grip,Gladio’s struggling was too much for them.

Surely they do not mean to try and drag me to the van?

The thought had barely passed his mind when he felt a prick in his neck, the unmistakable feeling of a needle entering his skin.

Sedative, of course, wouldn't risk a shouting Prince. He pushed the men off him, but the drug was entering his blood stream. His limbs felt heavy, vision blurring and darkening the edges. He vaguely felt hands on him, his body no longer his own as he was dragged to the white van, the door sliding open to reveal the darkness.

At least it’s not Noct, he’s safe, I’ve protected him. That was the last thought to enter his mind before he collapsed in the van.

Clarus and Regis were on their way to the gardens for a break when the lockdown alarm sounded, guards quickly sprinting off to their stations, Clarus leading Regis up to his personal chambers.

“Cor,” Clarus called out to their Marshal and friend, who turned with a tight face. “What’s going on?”

Cor swallowed hard, and even Clarus began to worry. “Majesty I... oh shit. Gladio and Noctis were on their way to Gladio’s tattoo session. Supposedly men came and tried to take the Prince. He’s safe, but he said that Gladio was holding them off for Noctis to escape.”

“Where’s Gladio?” Clarus grounded out, knuckles turning white around his fist.

Cor sighed heavily, hanging his head. “They... the guards went to the location the Prince said they were at, but it appears that they took Gladio...”

Regis went to his friend, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find him Clarus, he is prepared for this.” Clarus said nothing, staring at the black marble floor, the world around him getting dizzier and dizzier.

Finally he turned around, a guiding hand on his Kings back. “We need to get you to safety.” He began walking as he called out. “Bring Iris to me immediately, and Ignis Scientia as well.” He did not bother looking behind him to see if Cor had followed his orders, he trusted that his friend did.

Ignis was escorted to the Kings Chambers by a ‘Glaive, the ‘Glaive knocking on the large door before opening, informing the King that Ignis was there.

Ignis thanked the soldier before stepping inside, seeing Regis sitting on the edge of the large couch, Clarus pacing back and forth, entire body strung tight like a drawn bow.

Regis gave a soft smile to Ignis as he entered, lifting a hand. “Ah, Ignis, come here son.”

Ignis made his way over to the King, bowing before him before straightening, the questioning coming before he could stop himself. “Is the Prince safe?”

“Yes, yes Noctis is on his way in a Crownsguard vehicle.” Regis comforted, patting the space next to him for Ignis to sit. Ignis followed, but his ever perspective eyes lingered on Claurs, who still paced and mumbled in complete worry.

His eyes stayed on Clarus as he questioned. “...Its Gladio, isn’t it?” He turned to King Regis, who’s smile had disappeared, how holding Ignis close to him.

He gave a solemn nod, “Yes, I’m afraid so. It appears that Noct’s hopeful captors did not wish to leave empty handed.”

Ignis’ eyes casted towards the floor, pushing his glasses up his nose, but turned Clarus. “My sincere apologies Lord Amicitia, I feel I could have stopped this if I have gone with them, helped Gladio fend them off-”

“Then we’d just have two kidnapped instead of one,” Clarus sighed, turning to Ignis, who’s green eyes shined with grief. “You’re fine Ignis, you did all that you could.”

“And we will find him,” Regis spoke aloud, focusing on his friend. “We have our best looking into the situation.”

“And Gladio was trained in handling interrogation,” Ignis added, “including torture methods. He is probably more suited to handle this than me or the Prince...”

Clarus stepped towards the young chamberlain, kneeling and taking Ignis’ hand in his own calloused ones. “That is very true Ignis, forgive my worrying, we shall see him returned home.”

“Well of course you’re worrying,” Ignis noted. “He is your son, even if this is his duty as Shield, a father is always protective of his children.”

The two older men laughed, “Indeed Ignis, it is perfectly normal for a father to worry.” Regis noted and gave a pointed look to his Shield, who could only gaze away, lost in his own grief and self-doubt.

“Dad!” A cry took them away, turning towards the door, only for King Regis’ vision to be encompassed by his son.

“Noctis,” Regis sighed in utter relief, wrapping his arms around his son and holding him close, but Noctis fought and wiggled away.

“Dad, we need to get Gladio back!” Noctis ordered, Regis saw the familiar determination behind those deep ocean eyes. “The captors couldn’t have gotten far, I saw a white van, if we send out men to begin a search within a ten mile radius then-”

“My son,” Regis soothed, running a hand through the silk black hair. “We are already on it, there appeared to be a camera pointed just outside the alleyway, we will look at the footage and get the plate number of the van. Right now, you and I both need to stay here so that they do not have to worry about guarding us.”

“But we can fight!” Noctis debated, “I’ve been training every day and you have the weapons of past kings! We could provide more support for them.”

“Highness, are you saying that our men are incapable of conducting a search and rescue mission?” Clarus carefully questioned, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

Noctis huffed, crossing his arms, “No... they’re capable... but this is Gladio! We can’t let anything be at risk!”

“Of course, Highness,” Clarus gave a small bow, a reassuring smile. “That is why I am going personally along with the Marshal to ensure your shield’s safe return.”

Regis sat back, arms crossed, “Oh are you now?”

Clarus turned, shoulders back and eyes daring. “If you will permit me Majesty, but I do believe you and Prince Noctis are rather safe within the Citadel.”

“And if both of our shields become injured?”

“I suppose it is a risk we will have to take.” Regis knew he was not winning this fight, Clarus would jump out of the damned window if it meant making sure he saw his son home safety. Regis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t stop you,” Regis began. “Astrals know I could not stop you, but please, please my friend. Don’t do anything stupid or reckless, I’d rather not have Iris be down both a father and a brother.”

Noctis saw Clarus’ shoulders drop, a sigh releasing him. “Of course, Majesty. Shall I relay this message to Cor?” He added with a cocked smirk that Noctis swore was a mirror to Gladio’s.

Regis huffed a laugh, “He probably needs to hear it, just as a reminder that age is catching up to him.” The King a Shield laughed a little more, Ignis quick to bring Noctis close and comfort him, trying to distract his mind.

“Daddy!” Iris’ voice shattered through the chambers, the small girl running to her father, a moggle plush clutched in her hand. She leaped into his arms, Clarus easily swooped her up and held her close, rubbing a hand along her back.

“W-where’s Gladdy?” Iris questioned, frantically wiping the tears from her eyes.

Clarus hushed her, soothing her hair. “He’s gone right now, but I’m going to bring him back, okay? I’m going to make sure he comes home.”

“I want him back now!”

“I know sweetheart, I know, just wait a little longer, then you’ll get to see him again.” Iris did not respond, only bury her head into her father’s chest, her sobs broken and loud.

After a couple of minutes Iris’ sobs quieted down, the crying exhausting her as she now rested in her father’s arms, face at peace.

“Give her to me,” Regis lifted an arm, allowing Clarus to ease the child into his. “Go, bring your soon back home.” Clarus nodded and turned, existing the room and heading to where the investigation was happening.

~~~

Don’t reveal you are awake, his father’s voice was the first to enter his mind. After he drifted back into consciousness. He stayed silent, limp, as his senses awakened and took on his surroundings. He was in a chair, wooden, his hands were tied behind it. He could feel rope digging into his ankle and on his thigh; secured to the front legs of his chair.

“I said the Prince,” a hushed voice hissed. “That doesn't look like the prince!”

A weak voice returned, “He’s the next best thing! His shield probably knows more than the Prince.”

“You better be right, I’ve risked too much for this to fail!” Information, they want information.

He heard steps approach, clicking and echoing nearer.

Warehouse? He heard something being lifted, something metal with something sloshing inside. He had no time to prepare before ice water was tossed over him, his eyes shot open, blinking away the water and fighting the shiver that wrecked his body.

“Wakey wakey!” The leader’s voice was next to him, the hot breath against his ear. Gladio said nothing, staring at his captors with vicious eyes. The leader moved to the stand in front of him, along with one of the man who attacked him and Noctis. The leader had a wide smile, it was surprisingly bright and happy considering what Gladio had heard minutes ago. “Not in a talking mood, huh?” The leader frowned. “Too cold? Yeah cold is a bitch, here, lemme help you.” He picked up another bucket, this one steaming and bubbling. This time Gladio had time to prepare, the scalding heat before it was tossed onto him. Gladio bit his lip to avoid crying out, his skin feeling like it was melting off. He threw the bucket, it bounded off the Shield’s head and crashed to the ground.

“Here’s what's gonna happen,” the Leader bent forward, hands resting on his knees. “You’re going to answer any and all questions we have, you refuse? We get ways for you to talk. Try to escape? We drag you back and make you suffer. Got it?” Gladio said nothing, clenching his jaw to avoid spitting in the man’s face.

Don’t give them reason to torture you, just keep quiet, do nothing.

The man went to a tray to Gladio’s left, tools laid out on the table, what they were Gladio could not tell, but he knew they were used to inflict some type of pain.

“Question one,” the man gazed down at the tools, thinking. “How many people are stationed as the Prince’s guard.” Gladio said nothing, the man turned and smiled. “Well?”

“For King and Crown.” Gladio snapped, reciting the words drilled into his head from a young age. The man gave a laugh, approaching with plyers in hand.

He stopped before Gladio, a bushy brow raised. “Is that your final answer?”

Gladio growled this time. “Go the hell.”

“Wrong answer!” The man shouted and took Gladio’s hand, holding it flat as he took his finger nail in the pliers, pulling and ripping it off of him. Gladio bit his tongue hard enough to taste blood, swallowing the pain as his nail was ripped from him.

“Would you like to guess again?” The man questioned, his smile wicked and cruel.

“For King and Crown.” Gladio spoke again, the man's smile was gone as soon as it came, he took another nail and pulled slowly.

Gladio by the end was shaking from pain, fighting to avoid crying out.

You can scream, Cors lectured echoed in his mind. It’s okay to scream and cry, it’s normal in these situations, it doesn’t make you weak. Still, he fought the urge to follow his instincts, but after his fourth nail was pulled, he felt whimpers escape his throat, and the men laughed cruelly at him.

“Ya know for a shield, I’d expect you to be tougher,” the man circled back to the table. “Can’t even handle a couple of fingernails being pulled? What’re you gonna do when you actually gotta take a bullet for the Prince?” They’ll try to get inside your head, don’t believe a word they say. Gladio tried to believe that, tired to follow the lecture Cor gave him, but he couldn’t help himself but from listening to the man’s words. After all, he was right, how could he handle this little pain when he was responsible for using his body as a shield for the King?

The man approached with Gladio again, this time it was cables connected to a battery, he tapped them together, electricity sparking from them.

“Let’s try this again,” He sneered. “How many guards are stationed for the Prince at one time?”

Don’t fail them now, you might be weak, but no coward.

“For King and Crown.”

The man’s smile sent shivers down his spine. “I’ll have fun breaking you.”

~~~

Clarus and Cor lead the investigation, watching the street cameras carefully, tracking the white van through the streets of Insomnia. It was fairly easy, despite the speed the van went, but eventually they saw it turn down an alley with a warehouse by it, the car suddenly stopping next to it.

“Send me that address, I want a squad of Crownsguards and Glaives ready.” Clarus barked orders as he marched out, Cor in tow, the men hastily saluting and following orders.

“Clarus,” Cor called out, but the Shield kept marching on. “Clarus!” He placed a hand on the armored shoulder, the owner turning with fire in his amber eyes.

“If you even think about telling me to stay here-” Clarus began, but Cor held up his hands in surrender.

“I was simply going to say that we need to be careful and think this through, if they managed to organize this kidnapping this thoroughly, they probably have some other tricks up their sleeves.”

Clarus sighed heavily, turning, calling over his shoulder. “Of course I know that. Now are you going to be helpful and follow or give some more useless advice?” Cor followed his friend, never really remembering the last time he was this shaken up, this short-fused...

Cor drove the car, Clarus in the passenger seat with his eyes glued to the road, as if hoping to find his son running out looking for help, or the white van appearing in front of them. Neither happened, and instead they parked a block from the warehouse, men and women filing out and stalking up to the seemingly abandoned concrete building.

Clarus saw the white van parked outside, where it was when they watched the video, perfect. He turned and began his orders, “Glaives I want you warping to the top floor, take out any long range weaponry and focus on damage control. Crownsguard, you’re with  me and Cor, you’ll be involved in the initial breach and taking care of the men on the ground floor. Remember, the King gave us permission to kill, but only if necessary. If they surrender you do not attack, got it?”

“Yes sir,” hushed voices rang out, determined look on each of those faces. The Glaives warped up to the buildings across the way, staying hidden as they others made their approach.

They went to the door, two guards carrying a battering ram made their way up the stairs. Clarus gave the signal and the guards wound back, letting the battering ram descend on the metal door, it opened instantly.

Men filed in, guns ready, Glaives warped inside and shattered windows, knives ready, only there was no one to attack. The warehouse was empty, completely empty, as if they never even set up in there.

Clarus ground his teeth, scanning the area, looking for a shred of evidence that they were here, that his son was here...

“Search the area,” Cor ordered and the guards went to work, scanning every nook and cranny for anything that could show where they were.

Clarus and Cor approached the table at the center of the warehouse, a single note atop of it.

Oops, looks like someone just missed the party.

Cor took the note carefully, using his bandana to avoid tampering with any prints that could be on it. He took the note just in time for Clarus to smash his fist through the table, the wood cracking and splitting in two.

“Clarus,” Cor soothed. “We’ll find him, they couldn’t have gotten far, and there are camera outside the warehouse.” Clarus said nothing, only staring at the split wood, Cor did not want to know what he was thinking, what dark thoughts were plaguing his mind.

“He’s too young to deal with this.” Clarus mumbled, Cor almost missed what the Shield said as he turned around and stalked out of the warehouse, but he did hear it and stared at his friend with an empathetic gaze.

Gladio will be okay, he’s been trained, they’ll find him.

~~~

Gladio spit out more blood as another blow was struck across his head, he felt blood dribble down the side of his face, sticking to his hair. He was blacking out, missing the questions, not like he would answer them anyway. He could not even tell if he was speaking anymore, what he was speaking.

“F-for King... a-and crown.” He slurred, head lulling to the side, the blackness in his vision threatening to take over.

Another douse of frozen water was launched at him, shattering him awake and shivering violently.

“Don’t know why you’re sayin’ that,” The man smirked. “You’ve already answered most of my questions-” liar. “What you don’t remember? Yeah you were spilling your guts just a second ago, tellin’ me all the juicy secrets. You failed Shield, just give up and tell us what else we need to know and we’ll let you go with most of your bones still in place.” He’s lying, he must be, there’s no way he’d ever tell him a single thing about Noctis or the royal family. Still, he cannot remember the events from just minutes ago, maybe he did tell them? Maybe his brain got the best of him and decided to spill the information in return for a quick death.

I’ve failed.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” The man questioned again, studying the, now mostly bloodied, tray of torture devices. Even knowing he probably spilled secrets, that he might spill more, he’d never willingly say anything. At least I can die knowing I didn’t say anything.

“...For King an-” He didn’t finish as another shock of electricity coursed through his body, muscles seizing and spasming.

~~~

“What do you mean you don’t have anything?!” Clarus shouted into his ear piece, Cor almost felt sorry for the recipients of his anger, almost.

“N-none of the footage showed a car leaving the area... sir.” The guard replied meekly, his voice barely audible through the ear piece.

“They had to have gone somewhere,” Clarus hissed. “You find me my son!” Cor chose to not try and comfort his friend and instead turned to the guard that was telling him the report of the warehouse. Nothing, typical, they found absolutely nothing besides the note he placed in an evidence bag. Clarus was right, they couldn’t have gotten far without the cameras picking them up, which meant they must have still been around this area, but there was only small buildings and shacks, nothing that could be held as a fort for a hostage with the guards that they had.

“Wait,” A female guard spoke up. “I think I have something.” There was a moment of tense silence, filled with Clarus and Cor looking at each other nervously. “Yeah, yeah that’s definitely him. The driver from the white van is the same driver here, a different car, a SUV model. He just turned onto 6th street and is making his way west.”

“That’s two blocks from us,” Cor questioned. “How the hell did they get there without the cameras finding out?”

“Not important,” Clarus shut down his question real quick, going back to the earpiece. “You tell me where that SUV is now.” Another silence, the two could faintly hear keys being pressed on the other side of their ear pieces.

Then, “Okay, the SUV just pulled into another alley on 10th. There’s no cameras in the alley so I can’t see where they went but there’s at least two warehouses there.” Clarus and Cor exchanged similar, stone faced looks, Cor left to gather the men while Clarus ran a hand through his buzzed hair. He prayed to the astrals that they weren’t too late.

~~~

Gladio’s scream echoed off the warehouse walls, his last remaining strength spent struggling against the white hot brand that was currently pressed against palm. A similar burn was on his other hand, which was too accompanied by a painful scream. The man finally let the brand off his skin, he would have collapsed to the floor if the binds digging into his skin had not kept him up.

“Why are you still so stubborn!” The man grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked back, Glado felt more blood fall from his broken nose, the chair tipping back. “You’ve already given us information, just admit you’re a miserable piece of shit who can’t bother protecting his Prince and tell us what we need to know!” That can’t be true, Gladio refused to believe it, he couldn’t have told them anything... and yet he could feel his mind trying to betray him even now.

“F...F-for K-”

“I swear to the Six if you say ‘for king and crown’ one more fucking time I will burn your fucking dick off!” Then I won’t have to produce more future failures to the Crown.

He never got the chance to say anything else, shouts erupted from above him, the man let go of his hair and it sent him crashing to the ground, gasping out in pain it had on his body. He caught a glimpse of his father and Cor rushing into the warehouse before blackness took his vision again.

~~~

Cor and the Crownsguards made quick work of the captors, having to take down most as they refused to cooperate, but a few put their weapons down and lifted their hands in surrender. Soon the warehouse was being emptied of all its inhabitants, and him and Clarus made their way to the limp body that laid on the floor.

Cor got the chair upright as gently as possible, but the occupant still groaned in pain, eyes fluttering open. Clarus knelt before his son and laid a hand on his less bloodied shoulder, “Son?” He called out and gave the shoulder a slight shake. The younger shield groaned, eyes tightening, trying to keep the attention away from him. “It’s okay Gladio, it’s me.” Clarus reassured, and he thanked the Astrals as his son shot up his head to stare at his father.

“...Dad?” Gladio gasped, his throat dry and scratchy, and swallowing only made it hurt more. He felt a tug behind him and tried to look back, stopping at the pain that shot through him. Cor got into his eyesight, nodding slowly, eyes gentle.

“It’s alright, son.” Clarus soothed. “We’re getting you out of here.” Gladio breathed heavily, eyes casted downwards, shame filling him. Clarus rested his free hand on cheek, carefully turning him back to face his father.

“What’s wrong, son?” Clarus saw those young eyes filled with pain, pain that he should not have experienced yet. Then he saw silver lining them, and witnessed his son begin sobbing before him.

“I...I blacked out,” He choked out between sobs. “I got h-hit in the h-head pretty ha-hard... I tried dad... I tried to stay q-quiet... but I-I-I think I... Gods-” He broke down, head falling forward and tears escaping him. Clarus brought him close, a hand on the back of his head and the other on his back, bringing his son in close.

Gladio felt the binds loosen on his hands and he brought them forward, clutching onto his father’s uniform.

“I failed.” Clarus nearly missed the comment, but he brought Gladio back, having his son stare into his determined eyes.

Clarus shook his head firmly, “No Gladio. You in no way failed. You tried to keep quiet, tried to avoid saying any information. You could not stop them from beating your head, if your mind betrayed you that is not your fault.” Clarus saw more tears spill down those cheeks, he gripped the back of his son’s neck harder. “Gladio listen to me. I couldn’t give two damns if you spilled all of the secrets of the Citadel. All I care about is that you and the Prince are safe. We got the captures, we’ll figure out if you said any information, but they cannot use it against us.”

“I should have been ready,” Gladio sobbed again. “I-I trained, I did everything y-you said to do, but I still failed.”

“It’s one thing to learn how to handle torture,” Cor’s voice soothed by him. “It’s another to actually put it into practice. Training can only get you ready for so much, if anything it is our fault for letting this happen to you at such a young age.” One job, you had one fucking job and you couldn’t even do that!

“Shh it’s alright son, everything will be alright.” Clarus soothed, betting the damp hair. Gladio had not even noticed he was crying until then, noticing the pinkish drops of tears and blood fall to the floor. He tried to reign in his tears, to stop showing such weakness in front of his father and mentor, but that was easier said than done.

He sobbed into his father’s uniform for a while, clutching onto him and muttering his apologies over and over again. Clarus just held onto him and soothed his hair until he finally went limp from exhaustion, sleep taking him.

Clarus lifted his son into his arms, carrying him from the warehouse and towards the citadel ambulance that awaited for them.

“I’ll question the survivors, see if he did say any information, and see what is was.” Cor spoke, but made no move to leave his friends side.

Clarus set his son down on the gurney, speaking softly. “He didn’t give any information.”

“How do you know?” Cor questioned, “Kid seemed pretty sure he did, I mean given the lack of experience, his age, wouldn’t be much of a suprise of something slipped. They roughed him up pretty bad.” Pretty bad was an understatement, between the burns on his hands, his knees being smashed along with his head, it’ll take at least two months before he’s able to train again.