If this is some dream, he's actually not ready to wake up yet. Where he'd been ready to tear through the crowd like some frothing at the mouth, rampaging garula, he's not now. Near docile in comparison. His father's arms are around him, and for several heartbreaking seconds, Gladio can't even move. This doesn't even seem real. But, everything feels the same. Smells the same. And, that does something to Gladio. It throws him back to when he was a child and how easily he sought his father's embrace. He's been working hard since they all left Insomnia, pushing himself to his absolute limit. But, right now, he feels like everything shatters inside of him.

No more hesitation, then. His arms grip around his father's back, his face tipping to press into his shoulder. It's more vulnerability than he's shown in a long time, but he thinks he's allowed this. Just this once. After they all found out about the fate of Insomnia, Gladio had no time to properly grieve. They had to keep pushing forward. They had to keep Noctis on task. He had to throw himself in front of Noctis to keep him safe, protected. He didn't have time to think about his own life and losses. Part of him wishes he had so he isn't exposed like this when he should be keeping it together.

There's a horrible lump in his throat that he's embarrassed by. He shouldn't be like this, he should be better than this. Every time he tries to say something, nothing comes out and he feels like such an idiot. Finally, eventually, he's able to shift back, though not far. (There's a small, small, foolish part of himself that thinks if he lets go that Clarus will disappear. He couldn't deal with that right this second.)

"I, um--" he pauses, wets his lips. What's he supposed to say that isn't just groundbreakingly idiotic? "I didn't think I'd see you," again, "here."