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Polyxena (manyxenas) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2011-12-21 07:35:00

Who: Achilles and Polyxena
When: Thursday morning (late morning)
Where: Achilles' apartment
What: Nightmares! Poly comes for a visit and Achilles is distressed.



The night before had been anything but peaceful. Since Achilles had refused any and all medication that his doctors prescribed him at the time, it left him wide open for recurring dreams. He'd put his script to rest for the time being, no matter how close to finishing he was. His mind needed a break from that kind of reminder. The battle seemed forever constant. Any sound, voice, sight could be a trigger.

He was giving in a little to the help of another. After forcing himself away from his loved ones, Briseis, Patroclus and his mother he'd hoped that would be of some help. He'd been wrong. That loneliness continued to feed him, but there was another presence now that gave the sad side of him some comfort. Polyxena. He'd seen more of her since their reunion of sorts. She listened as she always had, hopefully with an open mind and not with any ideas of vengeance, though she deserved that if she wished.

Achilles had called her over for a morning brunch, but when he'd finally fallen asleep it had been at least six a.m. He was used to late hours, but also used to getting up as early as seven. It was now ten thirty Thursday morning almost eleven when Polyxena's knock came rapping on the door. The giant doberman had tried to get his master up, but Achilles was locked inside his head.

Sweat beaded off his forehead, his chest tight, breathing at an unnatural pace while his heart rate climbed higher and higher. There were tears while his mind played pictures of death. He was surrounded by it, rivers of blood, mounds of bodies under his feet and voices that taunted him.

Brunch had sounded like a lovely idea and Polyxena had even brought some coffee with her to Achilles' house. She was still unsure what kept bringing her here, and it was something she was keeping from her siblings for the time being.

She knocked on Achilles' door, waiting for an answer and hoping she wasn't too early.

The dog barked at the knock hoping it would wake Achilles from his deep slumber. It was unlike the tall blonde to settle in so late. It would be a full five, almost ten minutes before Achilles was jarred from his sleep. Even his feet were heavy as he dragged himself to his feet.

When he opened the door he was drenched in sweat, from tank top down to his pants. It was sticky, hot and he still seemed somewhere else.

Polyxena was taken aback by how Achilles looked. Her jaw dropped and she held back the coffees she had been about to hand him. "Achilles, are you okay?" she asked, sounding breathless.

His heart was still beating madly against his chest. He let her in but it took a moment to function and answer her properly.

"Quite the opposite. Just woke up." He swallowed heavy, no teasing in his voice, just that glazed expression.

Polyxena moved inside and set the drinks down so she could put her hands on his shoulders. "Achilles, were you dreaming?"

He was much more human in this way, hurting in the ways that was of the worst kind. It was the reason.he couldn't let go, too many memories that held him tightly. He needed a much softer embrace.

Wiping his hand across his face he brushed his hair back. "I was," his voice hoarse.

"Come here," Polyxena said, pulling him close to hug him. She didn't care about sweat or anything like that. She just wished she could make it easier on him. "I'm sorry."

She seemed more compassionate to the situation, as if it were peeling him away to this slightly less arrogant, golden figure of the past. Just a man. Nothing more.

At first he was stiff to that soft embrace she offered, his hair dripping down his shoulders, perspired, but she still held him. Swallowing heavily, Achilles let her in, his arms folding around her in an almost needy response. His chin nestled against her shoulder, eyes shut.

The big, strong warrior was near tears. Not very unlike the way he'd been in the past when his world had turned up on it's head during the Trojan war.

She held him silently for a moment and then she said, "come on, Achilles. Let's go sit down. I can make you some tea or something."

His eyes remained shut for a time, keeping her there even when she offered to pull away. When she did, his eyes caught hers. He gave her a soft nod.

"Let me wash up." He walked slowly, almost as if his feet were still dead weights while she fixed tea. He didn't tell her where anything belonged in his home, he knew she would find it.

Polyxena nodded, letting him leave her so he could clean up. She went into his kitchen, having no trouble searching around for everything she needed. By the time Achilles came back, she had tea ready and omlettes cooking on the stove.

Achilles returned looking much more refreshed, but mentally he was still suffering in the ways a drunk would from a hangover. His eyes were red, rings underneath from the lack of sleep. His head still pounded. He was hardly hungry as he padded back into the kitchen where Polyxena seemed to gleam like an angel. At that moment she'd rescued him from what could have been a painful afternoon.

"Here," Polyxena said, picking up the tea and pressing it into his hand. "It'll make you feel better," she said soothingly. "Achilles, how often have you had nightmares like this?"

He gingerly took the cup from her grasp, looking at her blankly at her inquisitiveness. She was asking him to open up to her, but just as easily as before he felt her no threat right now. There was nothing she had from him that she could use against him. There was no reason.

"Since I returned to this world during the times of Alexander the Great. As times progressed so did my visions. Vietnam..." he paused as if to speak about it was painful. "Coming home from Vietnam, when doctors had a name for it, it increasingly became worse." In so many ways he held the grandaddy of PTSD among the men of war.

Polyxena didn't like knowing that Achilles was going through that. Even as much as she had been angry with him in the past, she still felt for him. And if he was going through such things, he was hardly going to pose a threat.

"Do you think you would have the nightmares if someone were...with you?" she asked, not meeting his eye quite yet.

He swallowed a few generous gulps of tea, letting it's warmth slide through his system, calming his nerves. He wasn't nervous by nature, but any man would be a liar if he didn't admit that dreams such as that didn't bring them to their knees.

"It does prove effective. At times." He sat the cup down, leaning against the counter. "The truth is, I've been without company for a long time now." That was just as painful to admit, it made his throat tense.

"Well you have company now," she said. She had been sleeping alone for a while now too. And whatever else had happened between them, she and Achilles certainly had an attraction.

"I can stay with you today if you want."

His eyes looked upon her somewhat phased by the offer. "After what I've put you through, and without regrets," he paused leaning off the counter to slide in beside her, "you wish to stay with me? I don't want pity." In his tone the remark was far less demeaning as it was the heartfelt truth. Achilles was a proud man. If she cared in the slightest as she appeared to, she would understand.

His knuckle brushed the side of her cheek. Softly.

"I don't pity you," Polyxena said quickly, leaning into his touch. "I feel for you. You were used as an instrument for war, same as I was used for- It hardly matters. We are what has been made of us. And I care."

His fingers spread to cup her cheek, thumb ghosting over her lips. "It was not a time for peace then, though I would have given anything to have it." His caress was incredibly soft, as if touching her face for the first time. He would not apologize to her but he would not reject her concern. He kissed her cheek with the same softness his hand had offered.

Polyxena smiled a slight smile at his affection, but then she stepped away to make sure the omelettes didn't burn. "So would you like me to stay then?"

She pulled back just before hid lips could draw themselves to hers. That soft promise was just inches from him. "Yes, I should very much like that." He wanted closeness.

She turned and looked over her shoulder, finally offering him a full smile. "Good then. I'll try my best to take care of you. Which includes you eating a good breakfast. Could you set the table?"

She was almost charming like this, nurturing. Stepping around her he reached in the high cabinet for the plates, which he placed on the table.

As she crossed the kitchen again he took the opportunity to grip her waist and demand from her that kiss. Just one. A thank you.