Patrick Clark | Patroclus (borrowed_armor) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2010-10-29 04:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | achilles, patroclus |
Who: (I just typed 'woe') Patroclus borrowed_armor and Achilles chink_in_armor
What: Two warriors meet again and one gloats about being right?
When: Friday morning, October 29th
Where: Achilles' apartment
Patroclus just knew Achilles was going to gloat.
He had believed in Helen, and Achilles hadn't. Achilles had warned Patroclus, but blinded by love, he had gone off anyway and gotten his heart broken, just as Achilles predicted he would. Dammit. Achilles did like being right, and Patroclus didn't think he could take gloating and a broken heart.
He waited until Friday to see Achilles, opting to spend Thursday with Briseis instead. Her calming presence had made him feel much better. He was grieving still, but the wound of Helen was not so raw. And so, bracing himself for Achilles' ego, Patroclus knocked on his cousin's door for the first time in a month.
It was quite different with Kismine on her own now and out of his apartment. The room felt lonely, dark and as if a certain brightness was gone. It left Achilles back on his own, his only company the giant doberman and the buzz of a cellphone.
At the knock, the doberman perked up, his ears laid back in warning, a monstrous bark emitting from his large body. He stood at the door, waiting for Achilles' instruction, not recognizing the presence which stood on the other side. It had been too long since company had been over.
Shutting the computer screen Achilles walked to the door, snapping his fingers once for the dog to back away and opening the door. He saw Patroclus beaten and broken inside, it was evident in his eyes. The expression Achilles gave back was smug even if he did nothing more than lift a brow in his cousin's direction, allowing him to come inside.
He was angry, and justly so for the way Helen had strung his friend along. He said nothing yet, but he would. For one, Patroclus had not come when first getting back to New York, as Achilles had suspected.
"A little late?" he finally said, cutting into the air like knife with a very sharp point.
"No, just on time," Patroclus responded icily. He would not be reprimanded for taking the time he needed to calm down.
Patroclus turned to look at the doberman who was watching him with careful eyes and he swallowed roughly as the door shut behind him. "I'm sorry. I felt the need to...wallow."
Achilles' own anger was not directed towards Patroclus, but it was projected in a way that made them both uncomfortable. He was determined to make his point, whether or not Patroclus wanted to listen.
Arms still folded, Achilles narrowed his eyes in the same way the doberman paced around Patroclus physically. The other man spoke, and Achilles tilted his head upward, arrogance showing through his stance.
The door shut behind Patroclus with a roughness, indicating that being silent was not on Achilles' agenda. "Had enough of it? Because I don't want to hear it." His words were rough, but there was a line of understanding beneath it all. Patroclus was suffering, and Achilles felt it just the same. That's what brothers did, and Patroclus knew Achilles well enough to know that the other man was purposefully attempting to rile him.
"You don't want to hear it?" Patroclus stared at his cousin, his eyes narrowing as well. "I fucking said I didn't want to talk about it! I meant it!"
If Achilles was trying to rile him, Patroclus would let himself get riled.
This was the same tactic Patroclus had used on Achilles, during the Trojan War to get Achilles to show something in regards to the fact that his men were dying on the battlefield and yet he chose to stand behind. He may not have shown up himself which lead to Patroclus death, but he had caved to giveng Patroclus his armor.
Achilles unfolded his arms, stepping closer, not wincing at the other man's anger. He didn't push Patroclus physically, but he stood close, and his words were doing all the pushing he needed.
"Your acting like a woman, and unless you have an explanation I don't already know, then no, I don't want to hear it." His eyes were lined when he put his hands on Patroclus' shoulders, "She's broken you, and I'll tear down Seattle to rub her nose in it." He had no remorse for Helen now, and he would not let Patroclus wallow in it.
This was quite different to loosing Briseis to mortal hands, to Achilles, Helen had committed treason once again---only this time with his brother and that was a line she should never have crossed.
Maybe it was what Achilles had been hoping for, but the idea of someone breaking him was not something Patroclus was going to surrender to.
"She has NOT broken me!" Patroclus hissed at his friend. "Don't you dare insinuate she has! I am not acting like a woman. I am acting like a man in pain, but I am not broken. You leave Helen alone. She doesn't matter any more."
It was what Achilles wanted to hear. If Patroclus continued to wallow in what Helen had done, and as another one of her tortured victims then getting past this would be a failure.
Achilles crossed his arms again, a hint of a smirk hitting the end of his lip.
"That's what I wanted to hear." He would not have Patroclus a wreck, it hurt him too much to see.
After a moment, his voice softened, and gave in to being the more endearing friend he could be. "I don't want you to hurt."
Patroclus' shoulders sagged and the fight went out of him. Not that it was ever far below the surface.
"I'll get over it," Patroclus sighed and he gave his cousin a weak smile. "I will. Now. Tell me about the past month. I want to know what I missed."
The victory was short, as no matter what point he moved to make Patroclus had lost his fight, and Achilles would not berate him anymore. It did not make him any less angry.
"I warned you to be cautious," he started, "I should have known better." Part of that anger was his own guilt for ever letting his trust be given.
"I know you did," Patroclus admitted then. There was no fight behind Achilles' words; only lament that Patroclus had been hurt when it was so unnecessary. "And I should have listened. And I'm sorry, Achilles."
While Achilles had expected an apology, to hear it brought him pain as much as it did Patroclus to say it.
He placed a heavy hand on his brother's shoulder. "We were both fooled," he spoke, voice still softer than it had been prior. The arrogance was gone. There was no reason for Patroclus to fight for a woman that he'd lost his life to in the first place, in a war that had taken away their future.
Helen was never a woman that would belong to any man.
"I did not mean to be so harsh," but he had to prove his point, as Achilles always demanded.
"I know that too," Patroclus said, because he did. "It's alright, Achilles. Can we just...sit and watch something or go on a walk, and forget I ever ran off to Seattle like a twat?"
"A walk is acceptable," Achilles said raising a brow, hand still lingering on Patroclus' shoulder as if to reassure him he meant what he said. He didn't answer his next question for a while, leaving the other man to linger on it. Of course Achilles would forgive Patroclus, and he had since he came back to New York.
"If you think that I still hold a grudge for you leaving, then perhaps you don't know me as well as you believe." He opened the door.