[How long has it been since Noctis has cried on him? A very long time, he thinks. When the emotional vulnerability became more embarrassing than politically pressing, although the latter no doubt influenced the former.]

[How long since Ignis has cried? Longer, he thinks.]

[And he won't start today. Not with Noctis falling apart against him for the first time in a while instead of snapping at him and starting arguments. Not with a dismal and gray future looming overhead. As he holds Noct close, Ignis stares blankly towards the river, mind clicking and churning.]

[He has to do something.]

[He has to figure out what to do.]

[A breath. His heart, aching in his chest. Ignis pulls it all together, forces it to keep on going because what else is he to do? Simply pull away after his shirt has become quite thoroughly soaked.]

Alright then. We're quite done there, aren't we? [And he does mean we in this moment, even if he seems as rigid and professional as ever.]

Things are not as clear cut and miserable as they may seem, but it is best to handle the essentials for now. So, up now. [And he's helping with this, pulling Noctis along while rising up onto his feet, mindful of his back and bad knee.] While it is certainly not home, it will do more than well enough as shelter, and a base of operations. More than enough for four, and any others we may want to keep close in the future.