Renovating the Heart (FFXV)

XLIII) Comfort

"Are you sure there's nothing we can do?" Rayne demanded, pacing back and forth in front of Ignis's desk. He sat in his seat, massaging his temples as he thought. "If she's alive, she's probably dying from thirst."

"We can hardly go marching up to their doorstep," Ignis sighed, scowling at the thunderstorm outside. Rue had been gone for three days; she'd disappeared without a trace. Of course, they knew the risks when they sent her, but they never thought this would happen. She was so sure she could handle this... Guilt tugged at Ignis's heartstrings. This all could have been prevented if he'd stood firm in what he knew was right.

"I know, I know, I just..." Rayne tugged at the roots of her hair pausing in front of him. "#$%^&*, I knew better, and I let her go anyway." Ignis didn't seem to hear her. Her expression turned sympathetic. "Are you worried?"

"..." Ignis frowned, glancing up at her. Normally, he'd be defensive, but he didn't have it in him anymore. "I suppose I am."

"Me too." Rayne huffed, staring up at the ceiling. "Gods, I hope the little #$%^& is okay. Prompto's gonna kill me."

"... He'll understand."

"Will he? If anything, he'll blame himself for enabling."

"There's still a chance she's alive," he replied, but he spoke the words as if he didn't believe them. The longer she was gone, the worse he felt about her odds of returning.

He looked down at the chair before his desk, remembering when it was new, pristine from little use. Now there was an indentation from where she always sat and dirt scuffs along the edges where her shoes sometimes hit the legs. The chocobo she'd drawn in the corner of his notebook all those weeks ago felt so much different now that it wasn't her first day—now that they all realized she was far more than a screw-up. The three of them—Rayne, Ignis, and Prompto—had hardly been able to sleep the past two nights, wondering if she was trying to get into the Citadel to retrieve her house keys or if that was too much to hope for and she was simply dead beneath a pile of dirt at the arcade.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to tell her friends," Rayne groaned, rubbing her face. "She didn't even tell them she was leaving." Of course she didn't. He couldn't help but recall her gentle touch as she cared for him in his illness, her reassuring words and her patience when he was rude, brash, careless. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was being a fool; this wasn't the end of the world. "What if Eren... Oh #$%^, Eren!" Rayne fell against the wall dramatically, muttering to herself in distress. "Iggy, what if—"

"Rayne, she's back. Let her up?"

Rayne froze at the sound of her radio and Ignis tore his eyes away from his notebook to watch her lift it to her lips, trembling. She was angry.

"Why is that a question?" she demanded. "Of course #$%^&*% let her up!"

She slammed the radio back into its pocket on her hip and shook her head, irritated but incredibly relieved. Ignis was on his feet before he realized, following her out of the office and down the hall. Prompto stood outside on his phone, but his expression changed when he saw them, and he hurried to catch up. Down the hall, there echoed the sound of a struggle and gritted protests. And there she was, thrashing against the guards that pulled her along like a prisoner. Ignis couldn't describe the rage he felt upon watching her treatment. Rue caught sight of them, scowling.

"What the #$%^ is this? You have a #$%^&*% warrant out for my arrest?!"

"Put her down!" Rayne barked, irritated. The guards dropped her immediately and Rue gave them the finger before hurrying over to the group. Prompto crushed her in a hug as she spoke, her eyes dull and red and her voice hoarse.