Who: Achilles and Patroclus What: Long time no see! Bro-time. (Originally posted by Achilles) When: Monday night Where: Out on the streets of NY
Achilles had not seen Patroclus since his brother had run off with Helen. Again. It was displeasing, but Achilles himself had stayed distant. It was the first time he had purposefully ignored his friend as he had every other close person in his life for his own pride. Achilles was sucked into his own world, not pulling away this time because of neglect from his fellows or anger for past actions. He was a magnet to this world he wanted to be a part of again as the soldier he was, and the closer he was to those of his past the more he could not break from that.
He wasn't even aware that Patroclus was back in the city, he didn't even notice that he'd passed him by as he stepped out of a coffee shop with his laptop in hand. He was emersed into his work again, only this time it might just take him away completely. Vietnam was so close to his heart, it was almost as if that war had reshaped him completely. Now, in writing a new story, one he hoped to finish in the next few weeks, it was blinding him in an entirely new way that Sabine had not.
Patroclus did a double-take as the form of his best friend and brother exited the coffeeshop he had been passing. Achilles appeared not to even notice, but Patroclus had had enough of his silence.
"Ac-Adrianus!" he corrected, in case anyone on the street was listening. "Adrianus, it's me."
Achilles knew that voice, he'd know it even if centuries passed again keeping his friend from him. He closed his eyes, intent on walking, not looking back.
With his head cocked high he turned on his foot, giving Patroclus a brave look.
"I don't have time." Achilles was stubborn, perhaps a bit harsh when his friend had taken Helen over the rest of the world right now. It hurt and Achilles would continue without. It was what was best for them, if they didn't continue to hurt one another in this life.
Patroclus frowned and then he hurried to Achilles' side. "Well are you going somewhere? I could go with you!" He had missed Achilles, and trapping him on the street seemed the only way to be able to talk to him now.
A few people turned heads, but under sunglasses and a hat, there were few around that cared to pay attention to Adrianus.
Patroclus had set a good trap, there was nowhere for Achilles to go. They'd had this dance before, when Patroclus could read straight through him and make him listen. More than that, Patroclus was as relentless as he.
"Just a walk," he said his voice refusing to break. He pulled the laptop strap over his shoulder and started the pace.
Patroclus fell in step beside his best friend, remaining silent for the first hundred yards or so.
"Achilles, I've missed you," he finally said. "How have you been? You haven't been alone all this time have you?"
Those words always pained his heart, they put a strain on his focus.
"You shouldn't ask questions you know the answer to already, brother." Of course Achilles had been alone, it was what he was best at.
Patroclus closed his eyes for a moment and then he softly said, "I'm sorry. I never meant for that to happen."
"You ran off with her, it was expected." Achilles would be bitter about that because he knew in the end Helen would crush Patroclus again, and he couldn't bare to see that. Right now he couldn't even look at his friend, but not for that reason, for the fact that he did not want to lose his focus.
He quickened his pace, but Patroclus followed. "I've been working on my script, I've not been around."
"Achilles, just because Helen and I wanted to get out of New York City while the pantheon was in uproar doesn't mean I meant for you to be secluding yourself from everyone. Can't you see I can be with her and still spend time with you too?"
"I didn't hear from you either way. I didn't even know you were back." Was that sharpness in his tongue?
"I have other priorities right now." Only this script was weakening him again, opening the door for the wrong people to influence him again in the same way Hybris had.
"I tried contacting you several times," Patroclus said with a sigh. "What is this new script about then?" he was attempting to shift the conversation away from Achilles' annoyance with him.
It wasn't just his annoyance with Patroclus, just the idea that he needed to stay away from those heavily linked to his past or he would never overcome this.
"Vietnam." Just as they were a part of him, war would never be written out of his work---and perhaps it should have been.
Patroclus bit his lip when Achilles admitted what his script was about. He didn't think it was such a wonderful idea for Achilles to be writing about that in seclusion.
"Achilles...have you had anyone to talk to while you wrote about it?"
"I've not been around anyone that may distract me from my work." He had been terrible to get a hold of in the last few months, Kenneth had hardly been able to get a phone call through that was more than a few abrupt disclosures about his work. Achilles hadn't even opened up about anything else. He was alone, he was keeping himself secluded which left him wide open for destruction.
Patroclus didn't like the sound of that and he resolved to simply show up and bother Achilles in order to make sure the man had company. "Achilles...that isn't good for you. Why...why don't you tell me about it?"
The old hero was grumpy, he was being very selective about what he talked about which showed how much time he had spent alone. He was doing his best to revert to a time when he didn't have Patroclus, Briseis or his mother around. He felt more grounded and in tune with the world today, and now it was chaotic. His emotions were flipping around between soulless and longing for more.
With a frustrated sigh he clenched his jaw, gray-green eyes looking off toward the coffee shop he had just left.
"Let's sit," he instructed before he would go into further detail. Once seated he wouldn't even look Patroclus in the eye. "Same stories I've lived, same situations, just different names. That war is as much a part of me as any other. There are stories that need to be told."
Patroclus rested, ordering a coffee quickly before turning back to Achilles. "I agree that the stories should be told, Achilles. I just...worry about what the story might do to you if you keep to yourself."
Achilles' brows furrowed, perhaps from the sun or his sheer annoyance. He ordered his own cup of coffee, waving off the waitress before continuing.
"What it would do to me?" he said in a tone that clearly showed his annoyance. There was a time that Achilles would have listened to anything Patroclus told him, they'd fight it out and he'd think rationally. However, Achilles was wavering into that area where rationality was running thin.
"The experiences you had then have you PTSD," Patroclus hissed at him. "I don't know if re-living it while secluding yourself is such a good idea!"
Achilles felt his muscles tense, his defensive self take action. "You have no say so, Patroclus in my decisions." The name slipped, causing a few to turn heads.
Patroclus smiled uneasily and he hissed, "Patrick, Adrianus. It's Patrick. And no, you...your decisions are your own. But then so are mine. If you choose to write a screenplay that is potentially dangerous to your health, I choose to stick by your side to make sure you're okay."
His second in command, his brother, his comrade, his friend. There was no getting rid of Patroclus as they were a stubborn set. They'd sooner fight and throw fists before letting the other fall into the wrong hands again, or worse, death.
Achilles' fist slammed down against the table causing it to jostle the cups and plates. "What would you have me do? Ignore my inner voice and sit back with nothing for my hands to do?" He needed to write, if he could not pick up a sword, a gun and lead men, he had to do something.
Patroclus raised his eyebrows as Achilles lashed out at nothing. It was very clear that his writing was already getting to him.
"No, brother. No, I would never want you to ignore your inner voice. I just don't want you to be alone while you hear it. I'm here for you. I won't leave again." Clearly doing so had been a mistake.
Achilles hissed, turning his head in the opposite direction so he did not have to look at Patroclus as he spoke. How could he? Achilles had ground him into a pile of broken bones and near death before, yet Patroclus was still giving him the okay. No anger, no hate, no loathe, just the trust of an old friend.
It made his fist tighten. He released another indigent huff. "I wish to be more than this," he waved a hand over his self. "I fear moving on is never going to be in my present or future. I wish to lead men again." He couldn't hide that from Patroclus, though the older man already knew, Achilles was at least voicing it honestly.
"Have you thought of working with veterans here?" Patroclus asked softly. "Perhaps that would help. It would certainly help them. Warfare has changed so much. I don't know if there is a place for us any more." Patroclus understood how the monotony of a normal life could get to a warrior.
"And be what? Just like them, Patrick? A fallen soldier that lives off of broken nightmares and a feigned reality? I want more than that." He'd always would seek more, it was buried deep in his genetics. It was what made a golden hero so golden.
Patroclus lowered his voice. "Achilles, I understand wanting more, but warfare is not the same as it once was. Soldiers aren't household names, whether they are heroes or not. What you want doesn't exist any more outside of Hollywood. You are in the right business for glory."
There was a prick to his eyes as he looked to his friend in that forlorn expression. What Patroclus said was true, but it did nothing to take away that burn inside that spoke otherwise.
"This will never go away, we run in circles every time we speak. They've made me this way." The veterans, the soldiers, the men of war, the memory, it wasn't just a stake in history anymore.
"Then let's not speak, Achilles," Patroclus whispered. "I'll just be here for you. And if you have need of me, all you have to do is ask."
His chest felt tight, that swell of emotion raising to his sometimes cold eyes. "Alright," he said softly silent for a long time. The anger had died down, but the loneliness was still deep.
"Forgive me, brother. Sometimes I fear it would have been better to stay in this life alone without seeing you again. Any of you. It had been so long, now, I'm stunted."
And of course Pat would forgive him. "You're not stunted."
"Last time, I hurt you when I let go to my inner desires, by giving in to Hybris. If I did that again," he shook his head. "Sometimes that line is so thin between what is and what I want."
"You won't do it again," Patroclus said firmly. "It might be a thin line, but there is a line."
"You can't be sure of that, Patroclus."
"I can be sure of you," Patroclus nodded. "You wouldn't let Hybris in again. I trust you. It's alright if you don't trust yourself. I can do it for both of us."
Those were words that Achilles felt Patroclus needn't give him. He wasn't worthy of that after what he'd done, yet, it was offered and Achilles felt a little lighter. Patroclus had always believed in him even when all odds stood against him.
Patroclus was just in the way that Thetis was, the heart of Achilles' strength. They adored him when most others would see otherwise.
Achilles nodded his head, giving Patroclus the smallest of smiles. It was still slightly disheartened, but it was a step forward. "A friend among friends, you are truly a rare one." They were one in the same at times.
Patroclus smiled right back, glad that Achilles seemed to finally be letting him in again. "I am not the only one, brother."
It was an emotional moment, at times it was difficult to think that Patroclus was still one within the flesh. So long he'd waited to apologize, to have his friend, brother and companion back---that he wasn't sure how to treat the situation.
Achilles sat back in his seat, breathing in the fresh air.
"You are not, but you are the one that is here, now." The more Achilles focused his heart on others, on Briseis, the more it constantly ate him away inside that he was truly alone.