Chapter Text
I woke up the next morning first, eyes squinting to the mid-morning sun. Chiron must have let us sleep in, I thought and then let the news simmer. Usually, he would march over to our pallet with a stick in his hand carved for maximum threatening. He’d never used it, but the sight of it would give Patroclus tremors. For me though, Chiron would issue a very special bucket filled with ice cold water; he realized I couldn’t be intimidated with a measly stick rather something more physical and colder.
More often than not, he would refer to that bucket as the “Achilles’s Bucket”.
Honestly, it was nice of the old man to give us a little reprieve. Especially Patroclus, considering his adventure yesterday.
It was something alright, the way I had fallen asleep. I remembered trying to hold Patroclus while still managing to see Chiron’s folded figure beside our bed. I move around quite a lot before exhaustion took over, and now here I was, one had twisted above my head while the other was underneath me.
My hand was pricking in consciousness, pins pressing into my skin and numbing bone. I would have moved, gotten out of bed even. My feet were already twitching with renewed energy. But I didn’t want to awake the angel that was curled up into my side, snuffing and huffing like a baby doe. Patroclus was so very adorable when he slept, I had often noticed. But something about today made his cuteness tenfold.
His eyelashes were closed, and his face had the glow again. My eyes widened at that revelation.
Was it all finally over? Was Patroclus better again?
I move unconsciously to the bandage on his arm before stopping myself. Maybe the skin wouldn’t be so scabbed over anymore, but I still couldn’t be so careless. I slowly edged out of bed, away from Patroclus’s embrace to which Patroclus complained sleepily about how one should never ever move a boulder because it meant telling the yarrow to shut up.
I frowned at his words. Was it still the fever delirium? He had a fever last night, right? I found that I couldn’t quite remember the details and that made me frustrated.
Stupid sleep. Who made that a thing?
I shuffled, kicking up the furs Chiron had tucked us in last night. My face blushed thinking about it; I was almost fourteen and a demigod parallelly. I didn’t need to be tucked in like a child.
But then again, if I acted like one, that was what I would get.
Gods, life was so unfair.
I slid out of the bed, toes padding quietly to get Chiron when fingers wrapped around my arm. I looked down to find Patroclus smiling with one of his sleepy grins. This one gave the aura of I still need you even though you’re a dummy.
Ah, Patroclus was very kind to still think of me as his friend after all this. Maybe he had never been angry to begin with. It was easier to this that surely, so that’s what I let myself believe as I slid back into bed.
“AAchilles”, he yawned. Then rubbed his eyes before blinking back under the pressure.
Gods, did he have to be this cute?
“How do you feel?”, I asked. Patroclus gave me a little huff, consequently crinkling his nose in the process. It made him look older by a little; if Patroclus grew old, that was what he would look like I realized.
Then I slapped my brain for such a thought. How could he look like a teenager when he’s an old man? Teenagers were teenagers and old men were old men.
Still, it was a fun thought to entertain.
“I feel like I feel into a ravine. Or died. I think it’s the former though”, he spoke. Then more seriously, “I didn’t die right. Is this the afterlife?”.
I laughed to which Patroclus gave me a mirthful gaze.
“And I thought I was dramatic. You’re fine alright”.
Patroclus gave a content smirk and fell back into place. That was comforting, that my nonchalant response was passable and didn’t stir any of my internal conflicting emotions. I didn’t feel any better than last night. I still felt like he could just fall into earth any moment.
And the worst part would be that it would have been my fault.
But Patroclus just pressed into my shoulder, tapping his fingers into my palm like always, warmth soaking our skins. He still acted like Patroclus, felt like Patroclus, looked like Patroclus.
And maybe that helped ease my heart if anything.
“But really”, he began. “What happened Achilles?”.
My face fell from its former freeing state, memories that I had tried to hide coming out from god knows where. It was natural of him to ask, and it was his right to do so.
Still, did he have to ask?
I snuggled into the blanket, trying to leech some of its comfort for support. Unfortunately, Patroclus had stolen most of it by then, wrapped nicely around his feet.
“Nothing much. You fell. You were quite delirious. But Chiron fixed you up and you slept. I think you had a fever, but I can’t tell since Chiron took care of it again. Oh, and you spit on me”.
Patroclus face flushed red.
“In that order?”.
“No”.
“But I did spit on you?”.
“Yeah, but I didn’t mind”
That seemed to relieve Patroclus, who gave a smile. His curls brushed my cheek as he hummed and settled further into the mattress. I slinked my arm around his form. He still felt a little warm under the blanket; maybe he did still have a fever.
“Should I get Chiron?”, I asked. Patroclus stiffened before nodding his head in denial so quickly I was sure it would have screwed right of if it was made of anything but flesh and bone.
“No, don’t get him now. I like sleeping in”. Then more quietly, “I think I’ll fake sickness more often to get this”.
I punched him in the ribs slightly and clamored on top of him, pinning him against the bed.
“Oh, is that true now”. I brought my hands down to tickle him right near his navel. This was a perk of knowing a boy more than you know yourself. Even though it was grievous to see him suffer, it was also nice to know exactly how to make him laugh.
And where his best tickle spots were for the unsuspecting ambush.
Patroclus shoved me into the wall, giggling fitfully. He gasped for breath and wrapped the blanket more protectively like a solider would do so hi armor. I leaned by the edge of the bed, breathing heavy with unspoken laughs.
I was glad for this, for all of this. The iciness that had conquered me yesterday seemed to be irrelevant now in the warmth of the rose-quartz cave. Patroclus stuck out his tongue from his position; then, his face morphed into a sort of remembrance.
“You wanted to say something to me, yesterday, right? What was it, Achilles?”.
Oh, I had forgotten about that. I tried to wrack my brain for it now, but I couldn’t recall a word of what I wanted to so desperately tell him. The only thing I could remember was our banter about Apollo and Hyacinthus (not that I wanted to bring those two cursed figures up again). The more I pondered, the more I realized that much of my thoughts about him he knew already.
So, what had I wanted to tell?
I looked at him and tried to muster my most serious voice to match Patroclus’s wistful gaze.
“I can’t remember. It doesn’t matter anyway”.
Patroclus gave a shrug, I snorted, and so our banter went until Chiron arrived, mumbling about interrupting peace. But honestly, I could care less- not here or anywhere. Yes, it would not matter. I suppose that will never change.