|Patrick Clark | Patroclus (borrowed_armor) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2010-11-25 05:47:00
|Entry tags:||achilles, hybris, patroclus|
Who: Patroclus, Achilles and Hybris
What: A talk that ends in blood
Where: Achilles' apartment
When: Wednesday Night
Warnings: Extreme violence (OH I HOPE) and language.
Anything else and Pat could have let it lie until they figured out what was wrong with Achilles. but Pat knew what Briseis meant to Achilles and he had to explain to his cousin that he would never do such a thing. He knew how much it hurt Achilles that Briseis was not with him and even if Patroclus didn't think of Bri as a sister, which he very much did, he still wouldn't have taken her from his brother-in-arms. He loved Achilles.
So, to keep Achilles from a broken heart begot from misinformation, Patroclus knocked on Achilles' door even though he knew the man who opened it would not really be his cousin so much as his cousin being influenced by someone else. It was still Achilles' heart that beat beneath his skin and it could still be shattered by this.
He had no way of knowing it would be his heart that shattered by the end of his visit.
Hybris was there with him, feeding his ego making this madness continue. She toyed with him, played him like a fiddle, letting his strings be plucked one by one until nothing was left but that grating sound of bow to severed string.
The man that Patroclus saw when that door was ripped open was not Achilles. There was no compassion in him, and Achilles had long since stopped fighting her words. His face was furious, heart racing fast.
"You have some nerve," he grated under his breath in a voice that spoke hate.
Patroclus immediateley raised his hands to show he had no will to fight. "Achilles I came here to explain! Briseis and I are not sleeping together! She asked me to move in to protect her, that's all!"
Achilles grabbed him by the shirt collar, not in the mood to hear any explanations. He had been betrayed, played for the fool and he would not stand for it. Their noses were mere millimeters apart, jaw clenched, fist tightening his hold. His very breath could be heard as he inhaled and exhaled heavily, the fire from inside radiating off his skin. All that aggression was leaking out dangerously.
His eyes narrowed at Patroclus, "There is nothing for you to explain, I know the lies you speak of."
Patroclus was a warrior and not unused to hand-to-hand combat. But Achilles had never touched him like this. Not in anger. Patroclus yelped and as Achilles breathed in his face, it took everything Patroclus had in him not to use his shoulder to break Achilles' nose.
He had come here to make peace-
"I am not lying!" Patroclus hissed, trying to squirm from Achilles grip rather than fight him.
Achilles had not ever been the best at hand-to-hand combat, but he did still possess his unforgiving fear and skill. He had never battled Patroclus that wasn't in practice. They had bloodied each other's faces before, but not when Achilles was so hostile. Patroclus had backed him on everything, but Hybris had changed all that.
"I trusted you," he said as if it broke his heart, only there was no heart there to break. Achilles was stone cold now. "You betrayed me. Living with her as if some bride." Achilles let him go, that fever running through his mind, he grabbed his head ready to attack. He started by throwing things around the apartment, needing to get his hands on something to release the tension. There was so much built up inside, he couldn't breathe.
A growling scream cut through the air. "Stop lying. STOP lying to me!" he screamed, his hand grabbing hold of the first object off the wall that hadn't been torn down or knocked over.
He pointed the swords tip at Patroclus, laughing a little manically.
Patroclus' eyes widened when Achilles reeled back from him, throwing things in his intense anger. A cry of 'I am not lying to you' died in his throat when Achilles grabbed a sword from the wall.
And Patroclus couldn't help it any more. He had come to try to help his friend, and Achilles was about to attack him. It was defend himself or die. And so Patroclus dropped to the floor and rolled, and when he reached the wall, he stood and grabbed a second sword. He brought it up to meet Achilles' blade, his eyes absolutely regretful.
"Please, brother," Patroclus said, fear making his muscles sing. "Please don't do this."
"Do it." Hybris' clear voice rang out from the corner she was leaning against. Patroclus stole one look and he saw the red-headed whore before locking his eyes to Achilles' center again to see when the other man moved.
He had seen all he needed to. He understood.
"Achilles, don't listen to that scarlet woman!"
The swords clanked together, metal grating against metal as Achilles threw an amused smirk.
"You must learn your place," he growled, the same words Hybris had spoken just before. They were burned into his skull. Only the body of Achilles stood before Patroclus, but he was a puppet to the lies he'd been fed. Nothing Patroclus spoke at this point could break through that spell, she'd already done her damage.
Achilles felt voice beat against his temples and he lunged forward, strong and as assured as he'd ever been. Quick, as if every movement were a dance. Patroclus didn't stand a chance, especially when he was as heartless as Neoptolemus had been when he'd taken the brunette down. That much could be seen in his cold eyes.
No remorse. No compassion. It was all lost.
It was happening. It was happening even as Patroclus' heart broke, Achilles lunged towards him and Patroclus was forced to defend himself against his brother.
He raised the sword and he felt his muscles shake as Achilles crashed into him. Achilles was stronger. Patroclus knew his movements well, but Achilles had trained Patroclus to be the warrior he was.
Patroclus was going to lose.
And looking into Achilles' eyes now, he wondered if he was going to die too.
"Achilles, stop!" he cried and then grunted as Achilles took another swipe at him. He power behind Achilles' sword was tremendous.
Patroclus held the burdened heart that Achilles had held when fighting his own son, and for what but the very thing he was carrying out himself. Patroclus' cries fell on deaf ears, Achilles focused only on his target and how to take it down.
With each swing of his blade it rang through his opponent like a clap of thunder. Though he hadn't used his skill previously except in training and during film, what Achilles knew came back in a flash. Even more powerful than his fighting was the anger behind it. While Achilles still held a jealousy for Briseis, with Hybris behind him it only maximized that feeling.
Too long he'd held back. Too long he'd burned with that fire.
He twirled around slamming his blade against the hilt of Patroclus' sword, dropping it to the floor, elbow jabbing heavily into the other man's chest.
"You stand no chance against me, do you have a death wish?"
Patroclus fell to the floor, his sword beside him. He couldn't have lasted much longer anyway. Blocking Achilles' jabs was exhausting him and they hadn't even been at it that long. Once, during the Trojan War, Patroclus had taken down 50-some men with his sword. In a row. He had never gone against anything like Achilles when he wasn't training.
It was like fighting a brick wall. And if he wasn't terrified he was going to die at his best friend's hands, he would have been in awe.
"Achilles, no! When she no longer has your balls in her grip you are going to hate yourself if you do this!"
And Patroclus grabbed his sword, and he stood up again, sweaty and tired. "Achilles, listen to me. Listen to me. You know me! I wouldn't do the things you are accusing me of."
"Run him through for his lies," Hybris said calmly. "Achilles, teach him. Mark his pretty face so your woman won't love him any more. Bruise him black and blue, Achilles. Make his outsides look like your insides."
Achilles allowed Patroclus to stand again. There was a sense of enjoyment at letting this play out a little longer, like a cat baiting a mouse. It was a battle he'd ultimately win, but watching Patroclus grow tired made him feel almighty. This deceiving wretch was benneath him, and he would squash him like a bug.
When the brunette approached Achilles spoke again. "I'm growing tired of you're explanations! Enough!" At that he threw Patroclus' aim away from himself, this time the target of his hilt hitting Patroclus in the nose, blood encasing his hand and throwing a strike to the ribs once the other was stunned.
Achilles threw Patroclus down to his knees, listening to everything Hybris said. If Patroclus wanted him to listen to his words he'd have to put up a better fight than this.
"You will learn your rank. Learn to respect me and to not take that which is mine!" he roared giving another hard hit to Patroclus' side, hearing that crack in ribs and tear of flesh.
Achilles had hit him. And that hurt worse than any damage Achilles could possibly do. As Patroclus fell to his knees and he cried out in pain, it was more for the loss of his brother than for the ache in his nose and his ribs.
As Achilles screamed at him and kicked his side, Patroclus didn't fight any more. He was too tired and he couldn't bear to fight back anyway. Not against Achilles.
"Stop," Patroclus said, on his hands and knees, his broken ribs making his head dizzy and his vision blurry from the pain. "Achilles, stop." His voice was weak.
"Are you going to take orders from him?" Hybris asked, her crimson lips curled into a smile. "Don't listen to his demands.
"Achilles, please. I- You...are my general," he croaked out. "Stop."
There at his feet lay a man he had once defied gods over, that he had bloodied and stained his hands from being lost to him. Patroclus had defended him at every cost, given his life in the name of Achilles' honor.Something in his plea caused Achilles to flinch, and he stood silently, everything around him for a moment just a blur.
"Are you just going to lie there like a dog?" He keeled down grabbing his shirt again, forcing him to look at him. "Are you not going to fight?" he said through clenched teeth.
Patroclus didn't turn his face away, but his entire body ached and he wanted to. "No," Patroclus moaned. "I can't fight you Achilles." He tried to disentangle Achilles' hand from his shirt though. He was actually afraid Achilles might headbutt him in the face.
It was as if it annoyed the blonde more that Patroclus refused to fight. He wanted the fight, that adrenaline, it was pumping so heavily that he couldn't even feel anything but the pound against his temples.
Achilles let him go regretfully, with a heavy shove and another kick to the side of broken ribs. A punch to the face that was sure to do more than crack his jaw, it was enough to bruise Achilles' knuckles. "Stand up" he instructed.
So I can see you fall again. So I get this out of my system.
It burned, the fury and rage.
Patroclus wasn't sure he could stand up, but when Achilles backed the orders, he had a feeling if he didn't he was going to get a sword through his belly instead of more broken ribs and his broken jaw.
Patroclus groaned and he rolled onto his side, which sent excruciating shocks of pain through him. He rolled onto his hands and knees and, once there, he stood slowly, shakily, blood pulling under his skin, turning it black and blue. He was a warrior. He had fought with every bone in his body broken and one time or another, though not usually so many at once.
He had never fought with Achilles.
With a hand on his broken ribs, Patroclus glared at Achilles. He had bitten his tongue during one of the blows and he spat blood out of Achilles' floor. His rage; that notorious rage which had seen him once murder a friend over a dice game, was boiling just under the surface.
It probably didn't help that Hybris was in the room.
"Achilles," Patroclus grunted. "How could you let her in?"
He knew he wouldn't be able to hold his sword any more, but if Achilles came for him again, he would fight until the fight had gone out of him.
Achilles didn't want to just beat him to a bloody pulp, he wanted the fight. If there was no resistance, then all that rush was lost and over too soon.
Patroclus stood beaten and bloody, but not enough, as Achilles still stood with little more than the blood of his opponent.
Opponent. That was something Patroclus had never been. It also wasn't the first time that blood had coated his floor. The last time had been his very own when his son had knocked him down, near killing him with a blow to the head. The fight that Achilles had started for the fact that Neoptolemus had threatened and bruised Patroclus. Now, Achilles stood in that same vigor creating the same scenario that he would later regret.
At the beaten man's question, Achilles ticked his head to the side, feeling some surge through his head, but not one of Hybris' lies. It made him pause for a moment and only a moment, because Achilles was buried somewhere deep. However, it did strike a chord causing him to not speak.
Why had he let her in?
Because he was vulnerable. Left aside while Patroclus and the rest found their own way without him. He was without Kismine, and he was losing what little compassion he did have---stuck in that stagnant state of mind that made him uneasy. It was the perfect opportunity for Hybris to intervene. To take him over.
With Patroclus on his feet Achilles swished the sword around in the air, kicking the one that Patroclus had held towards his feet.
"Pick it up," he demanded in a low and haunting voice.
Patroclus closed his eyes for a second, something he had never done in a fight before, but his heart was breaking along with his body. When his eyes opened again, they were full of pain and hurt. He sighed and then bent, grunting with anguish as he picked up the sword Achilles had kicked at him.
Patroclus couldn't swing the sword, not with broken ribs. But he could hold it and try.
"Achilles," Patroclus whispered, and then he gave up. Rage welled up in his stomach again and he lifted his eyes to lock on to Achilles'.
"If you are going to come for me, fucking do it!" he yelled, at the expense of his broken jaw.
If Achilles could clearly see what he was pushing himself to do, his own hear would crumble. In the same manner Patroclus did, in the same manner he had when besting his son. There were invisible lines that they never crossed, now the world had been turned upside down.
He watched Patroclus pick up his weapon, an odd look of satisfaction showing on his face. Now they were getting somewhere, until he had enough and let Patroclus gurgle on his own blood.
His own sword lifted the other higher, prancing around Patroclus in a half-circle and then thrashing blows from each side, cuts to the other man's flesh for hits he failed to block.
Patroclus tried. He tried as hard as he could. He blocked some of the blows, though the blade would bounce off and hit his hands. Some of the blows he blocked with his arms. Others caught him on the face and on his sides and Patroclus still tried.
He tried until he was screaming with rage and his blood was staining the floor. He took swipes of his own at Achilles, but he never stood a chance.
And when he fell for the third time, he was spent. He crashed down to his side, the sword clattering away from him. He rolled his eyes up to his cousin and he forced out the words, "be quick," with what little breath he had left.
He was going to die now. At Achilles' hand. And he knew it.
Something deep inside stopped him when he raised his sword as if ready to release Patroclus of his last breath. He wanted to, the very image of his face made him burn with fury of his hands even touching Briseis. It disgusted him, made his vision bright red, as red as the blood he'd spilled.
He could see easily that his once Lieutenant wasn't going to budge again. The man had put up a fight, but not nearly as long as the blonde had hoped for. He'd fallen again which was enough to satisfy Achilles, though that spark inside was making him ease off.
"I don't want to kill you," Achilles announced, "I just want you to bleed, to revel in your mistake when you thought you could fool me."
Achilles wasn't licking wounds, he was giving punishment.
Patroclus closed his eyes, breathing out pain and relief both at once. Achilles wasn't going to kill him. He had beaten him nearly senseless, but Patroclus wasn't going to die at the hands of his best friend.
Achilles' gloating wasn't doing him much good though. It hurt. Deep down inside, where none of the surface injuries Achilles had caused him could reach.
"Achilles-" Patroclus said, gritting his teeth. "Sorry." He wasn't apologising for being with Briseis, since he never had been.
He was apologising for not saving Achilles from Hybris.