Even if I don't know what your pain is

[notsoholyspirit]

Who: Spirit and Kit (willing or unwilling), and then Spirit and everyone!
What: When a man promises to make soup, he makes soup! Feel free to find him outside cooking or as he's bringing a pot of definitely-edible-but-not-great soup around.
Where: Just outside the sallyport, and then around inside
When: New Moon
Warnings: See post headers, none yet



I. Cooking

There's no stove inside. At first, Spirit considers this sort of a problem--how is he supposed to go about cooking without a heat source? Until the hangover (and it's a terrible hangover) wears off enough, and he considers cooking outside. He doesn't mind the heat enough for it to be a deterrent, certainly, despite the fair skin that would suggest that he can't manage.

So he gathers the ingredients he can scrape together (a few Cup of Noodles, two cans of soup broth they'd found in the city, some cans of vegetables, some water). It's not much, but he's pretty sure he can make something that's at the very least edible. So for much of the late morning, he's a little ways away from the sallyport entrance with his hair tied back and sleeves rolled up (they're dry now, thanks Liam!) attempting to coax something flavorful that doesn't taste like garbage from the Ingredients of Dubious Quality.

Because he's outside, his back is to the sallyport and he's whistling quietly to himself as he cooks. Probably not difficult to sneak up on, but if you scare the cook too much you won't get any soup.

II. Serving

Kit gets first dibs. He'd made that much clear last night, despite the slur to his words. So he starts with her, carefully managing a large pot of soup with noodles and a few vegetables. It's not the best thing he's ever made, but it's better than the canned junk and actually doesn't taste half bad (he knows, because he's tasted it).

After serving her, he makes his way to the break room. Here, he sets the pot aside and returns to the locker room to collect a few more pans. It's an interesting array serving items he's got: two shallow pans, another larger pot, a few mugs and some utensils--exactly none of which are spoons.

He posts himself at the door, knowing there isn't exactly a wafting scent of tasty soup to speak for his efforts. He's holding the single large spoon that he'd been using to cook in his right hand, and will absolutely flag any passers-by down. He'll also be calling down the hall if he hears you.

"Hey. Soup's up, if you're interested. It's not terrible!" Given the available resources, he considered this an accomplishment. "It's cooled down a bit too."

III. Aggressive Dad Mode: Activate [Closed to Kit]

Spirit meant what he'd said about the soup. She gets a mug and a fork, and Spirit doesn't wait for her to appear so he can offer. Instead, he looks for her through the hospital until he finds her. If she's awake or not it doesn't matter: he kneels beside her, holding the cup carefully in his hands.

"I promised soup. It's not the best I've ever made," he's talking quietly, thoughtfully, as he offers the small mug to her, "but it's better than what's in the cans, and it isn't too heavy. Should sit in your stomach all right."

Comments

II

[want_to_belong]

Prompto had been pretty much hiding since the issue last night, afraid to approach anyone, but as the hours dragged on his stomach drove him to creep out of his safe nook. He peeked into the back to see if anyone else was around, but when he saw food his stomach growled loudly.

How did Spirit feel about all of this? He wasn't sure.

Still mostly hidden in the sally port, he asked quietly, "Is there any left?"

[notsoholyspirit]

Spirit feels exactly no kind of way about this. He, of all people, can't judge on the notion of infidelity. Except for the recognition that both sides get hurt, he's got nothing to say.

When Prompto peeks out from the sally port, he nods. "Yeah, if you're all right eating with a fork and a pan."

It's not an ideal arrangement, but it works...enough.

[want_to_belong]

"S'more than I had back on the islands."

He slipped into the room, double checking his surroundings like something might jump out of him, and squatting down in front of the pot to get some. The way he quickly started sliding what he could into a random pot showed how hungry he was despite his hesitation.

But once he was able to shovel some into his mouth and stave off his grumbling stomach, he looked back up at Spirit.

"...Is Kit okay?"

[notsoholyspirit]

Spirit immediately senses tension from Prompto, and frowns. At least the soup is palatable--that brings a hint of pride that he'd managed to make food that was less than awful.

"Anytime you want something cooked up, let me know. I'm no master like your friend, but I can make stuff that's at least edible."

A beat, and he shrugs slightly. "She's all right. Feeling awful, and not eating--hence the soup. Think you missed that conversation."

[want_to_belong]

"It's pretty good," Prompto assured him. He was never a picky eater like Noct and was pretty happy if anyone did the cooking for him.

He did stop, though.

"Oh. Is this supposed to be for her?"

He was hungry but he didn't want to take her food.

[notsoholyspirit]

"Gave her first dibs," he replies with a smile.

"I'm surprised it came out all right, to be honest. There isn't much by ingredients here."

A pause. "You know what happened last night wasn't really anyone's fault, right?"

[want_to_belong]

"Yeah, desert didn't really give us much in the way of food or water."

Which was worrisome in and of itself. What if the next place was the same? They might literally begin starving...

Once he got the confirmation he went back to eating his food. He would never understand how anyone managed to make anything good with these ingredients.

He pursed his lips, looking away from him. It sure felt like his fault.

"...I'm not sure how it all happened. Back home no one ever wanted me. I mostly got pushed to the side because I was in their way to get to Noct."

Which, for his part, Noct had never been interested in people following him around because he was nobility or wealthy. It had been a nuisance that he would have rather done without, too.

"And me and Noct have been friends a long time now but we never... we never even thought about doing anything before. It wasn't a thing, especially when he got engaged."

Dad mode activate

[notsoholyspirit]

"It doesn't usually happen when you're paying attention." Spirit had obeyed a meister without question, one who had hurt him and not without some modicum of affection, obligatory or otherwise. When he'd met his ex-wife, he hadn't loved her--not at first. But Spirit is the sort to love freely and easily. It had never been a problem for him to develop attachments: hence his inability to cast judgment on someone's infidelity.

"You were with a prince. Are, I guess."

He takes a drink of water, the bottle tucked into his pocket. He needed the extra hydration after his overzealous imbibing from the night before. "At home, I worked with who's essentially the god of our world. His son? Same spot as Noctis, in a way. And his friends? Kind of in the same spot as you."

Leaning against the frame of the door, arms crossed, he surveys Prompto. "But Kid kept his friends around because he cared about them. Didn't matter if they weren't of the same social status as him, or of the same 'importance'--he kept them around. He wanted them around."

Spirit sighs. "You're a bright kid. I think you can figure out what that means, right?"

[want_to_belong]

He pushed himself where he was sitting to turn to face Spirit.

"It means he wants me around? Yeah, I know."

He answered quickly, but then fidgeted a bit. The answer hadn't been entirely honest. "I mean, I mostly know. Sometimes I worry a bit..."

He swallowed, looking around as if he was searching for something in the room before looking back up at him again. "Do you think she like likes me?"

If his immaturity was ever on display it was probably now. But he had to ask. He had to be sure that he wasn't overestimating himself.

[notsoholyspirit]

"It's hard to be confident," he says quietly, "when you're so used to not being sure for yourself." This is not a question, but a statement. Weapons are always less than, and Spirit can intimately relate to the lack of confidence that creates.

As for the next question, Spirit sighs, the frown deepening.

"Do I think she like likes you? I have no idea." He shook his head, wanting to provide reassurance but honestly not sure what would. "I've only talked to her twice, and once was yesterday. Otherwise, just in passing. I couldn't really say and I'm not going to lie to you."

[kit_not_kat]

She wasn't hard to find. Not because she was visible, though. In fact, she was as tucked under blankets as she could possibly get, even her head underneath. Most people would have been suffocating on their own breath.

She didn't need to breath right now, so it worked.

No, what made her easy to spot was the huge black crow that was usually so active and judgmental from his place in the ceiling tiles...except that right now, he was perched on the lump of Kit, eyes glossy and feathers looking dull. He started when Spirit knelt down next to them, but even that startled wing beat was barely enough to lift him a few feet. Just enough to scold weakly in Spirit's direction before coming back down to land clumsy on the edge of the window sill overhead.

Kit, for her part, made a weak whining sound...but she did peek out from the depths of her nest.

[notsoholyspirit]

He's startled by the crow's reaction, quick reflexes having him jerk back from the blanket lump. Watching the crow warily, Spirit offers his free hand with fingers open--the other is occupied by a mug of soup. "Hey, relax--just visiting. I promise I'll be good."

When he sees a peek of blonde from the blanket, Spirit tilts his head and offers the mug.

"So long as your friend isn't going to peck my eyes out," animals and witches, animals and witches--it's an association he just can't shake. "I'll help you drink. I brought mostly broth since you didn't seem too enthused yesterday."

Unlike the night before, his tone is serious. Concerned. Were Kit to peek out further, she'd see furrowed brows and genuine concern in his eyes. He had been worried last night, genuinely so. He nudges the mug of soup closer.

"I promise it's less poisonous than last night's alcohol."

[kit_not_kat]

Well, they were going to do very little to disrupt his mantra of animals and witches. After all, Kit feeling like death and the crow starting to go glossy eyed happened around the same time. They were connected, that was undeniable.

Not that Kit had every tried to deny it.

At the concern in his voice, Kit did push aside her blankets a little further, looking up at the man with confusion clear in her eyes. She wasn't used to anyone but Scott coming to try and poke food into her when she was like this. Most people tended to leave her alone when she was sick.

It took a considerable amount of effort considering how she'd exhausted herself the night before, but she managed to sit up.

"Spirit?"

[notsoholyspirit]

That free hand moves to help Kit balance, already aware of how much sicker she looked now than she had the night before. He shifts so she can balance against his side rather than spend the energy holding herself upright, though he doesn't move his hand until she's settled.

"Yeah, it's me. Good morning," a beat, "afternoon. Took me a bit to scrape up something that could be called soup while also not being called disgusting."

He frowns, finding himself more concerned by how weak she seemed. He's had no experience with how sick she gets, no knowledge of the crow's association. Nothing. All he has is a memory of when his meister was sick, when his daughter was sick. And Kit looks just as bad as they did if not worse. Spirit presses the back of the soup-holding hand against her forehead, trying to gauge for fever, before settling completely beside her. Whether she leans against his side or leaves him supporting her as she sits up, he's clearly established that he's not going anywhere.

"You need a little something in you."

[kit_not_kat]

Well, the good news was that she didn't have a fever. The bad news was that she was the opposite. He touched her forehead and there was little heat to be found there at all and what was there was already cooling since she'd left her cocoon.

He settled down, intent on staying and she felt bad enough that she actually leaned against him, never mind how distant she'd forced herself to be last night. She'd go back to being unsure about her place among them once she felt a little more human.

"'M not hungry..."

[notsoholyspirit]

"You're freezing!"

The alarm is sudden, and surprises him as much as it likely surprises her. There's one thing Spirit associates that chill with. Two, to be technical, but he considers death the state and Death the god two very different things. Death the Kid always felt this cool to his hands, the boy's skin always uncannily cold compared to the harsh desert heat. He'd never felt anything else quite like it, and the association causes just a few seconds of confusion, clear on his face, before he snaps himself out of it and bundles the blankets a little tighter around her. The mug of soup is now close enough that she can probably smell it.

"Just a little bit, Kit. You don't have to have much." As she settles against his side, he shifts so she's not uncomfortable. He's not exactly soft, considering the lean muscle and bone, but her blanket cocoon should help with that at least a little. "But you'll need something in your stomach."

[kit_not_kat]

She didn't really react to being told that she was freezing. She knew she was. More importantly, she knew why she was. So did Ardyn, but she didn't have the energy to try and explain it all again right now. Not even to this man who was being so chest achingly sweet to her for no real reason. She leaned against his side, still and quiet. No shivering, no gentle rock of her breathing.

She'd spent the last of her energy last night to get to the chapel so she could be with everyone else.

An inhale, then she gave a small whimper before snaking a hand free of her cocoon to reach out for the mug. It probably wouldn't sit well, but it was warm and he was being so nice to her, the least she could do was try to eat.

[notsoholyspirit]

Spirit doesn't hand over the mug, instead helping support it with the hand closest to her.

"I said I'd help you," he's mumbling, half to himself and half to her. A bit louder, and now more uncertain: "Just a sip or two, if it hurts your stomach. Just something."

He doesn't note the unnatural stillness, not now. There's too many layers of blankets, and too much of his focus on getting her to eat. If eating truly will hurt her, now's probably the chance to tell him.

[kit_not_kat]

It won't actually hurt her. She just...won't digest it as easily as she would if it weren't the new moon. If she ate the whole bowl there would probably be a problem, but a few sips won't hurt her.

Unless, of course, she dumps it on herself trying to hold the damned thing. Which was exactly what would happen if Spirit had let her take the mug for herself. She might not be shivering, but she was as weak as Gladio's nickname for her. Still, she couldn't exactly eat while leaning against someone's side, so she shifted to sit on her own, wobbling a bit but managing it.

For the most part.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

II

[broplaints]

Noctis had spent most of the day hiding away in the room they had claimed as their own, making sure that Prompto was okay and taken care of. But there were exactly any snacks to be had here, so eventually he had to wander out and find food.

At first he thought that is was Ignis' cooking, and was only the slightest bit disappointed to find Spirit offering it up instead.

But food was food and at this point he wasn't going to turn it down.

"Smells pretty good." Please feed this poor boy you don't want him trying to cook for himself.

[notsoholyspirit]

"I'm pretty pleased it's come out edible considering the available ingredients." He laughs, weakly. "Cup noodles, canned vegetables...it's actually pretty good."

Spirit takes a deep saucepan, spooning soup into it before handing it to Noctis, handle facing him. "Not a lot of dishes around."

It actually is fairly good soup. Spirit's clearly got some cooking experience.

[broplaints]

Noctis looks down at the soup.

And then back up at Spirit.

And then very, very pointedly back down at the soup.

"Could I get some with less vegetables?" And then, because he had learned his lesson a very long time ago that being polite will get him far further than being a brat; "Please?"

At least Ignis taught him that well.

[notsoholyspirit]

"Uh..."

How old are you, Noctis? The confusion is crystal clear as he blinks at the teen before taking the saucepan and dumping the contents back into the pot.

This time, as he spoons soup into the pan he avoids much of the vegetables. It results in a smaller serving when he hands the saucepan back over.

"Can't give you all the broth and noodles, kid. And you need some vegetables," Spirit raises an eyebrow, the sort of parental expression that says you need to eat some vegetables, deal with it.

"That's better?"

[broplaints]

Twenty. An extremely spoiled, over indulged twenty.

But at least he doesn't really mind the smaller portion, or the fact that it's mostly flavored broth with some noodles floating around.

"Yeah. I can pick the rest out." Sorry, Spirit, but not even the dad face is going to get him to eat his vegetables. People have been trying his entire life.

Still, he takes the saucepan gratefully, lifting it to his lips and taking a mouthful of the broth. Which is surprisingly good for what it had been made out of.

"It's really good. Thank you, by the way. For making this."

[notsoholyspirit]

"The whole vegetable thing wasn't really a suggestion," he corrects flatly.

Dad face activate: you are still getting The Look, Noctis. There's a pointed gaze on him as Noctis sips the broth, avoiding the vegetables. "I only left a few carrots and string beans in there. I promise they won't kill you, and they have the benefit of also filling you up. This isn't the heartiest soup I've ever made."

Sighing, he stretches, leaving the spoon beside the pot and his back popping as he does so. "Glad you like it, kid. I'm thinking I can help Ignis with the cooking."