Breakdown One Shots

Patrochillies

"Please! Don't do this!" Patroclus cried from beyond the veil. His voice was held back by the spirits as Achilles tied up his sun golden hair again. Somehow Patroclus knew it would be the last time he would do that amongst the living.

Achilles eyes raged with the most brilliant flames. The gods pulled back from the heat, even Apollo was surprised by the harshness of it.

One could only look on as the vengeful man tore flesh from bone. He cast aside his enemies in tens, none with a second thought to their memories. Should you choose to fight a hate this deep, it should kill you.

Yet Achilles didn't fight to win. He fought to die. One lucky shot. That's what he wanted. As he let out fearsome roars he hoped for that one bloody stab to his heart. For nothing could bleed him worse than the loss of his love.

The gods allowed Patroclus to watch. They'd let him watch the love of his life in silence. Hades was never pleased at the sight of death without form or purpose. Yet it was his obligation as each soldier looked around in the underworld with bleak weary faces. Gone far too soon.

Hades knew it wasn't long for Achilles. He'd promised Patroclus to take dutiful care.

They watched on. Finally, among the sky Apollo lets out a sad sigh. He'd warned the price of vengeance and hate. He'd sworn by his prophesies and everyone knew it. Some shielded their eyes.

To loose such a beautiful thing.

To rip it from this earth seemed a sin.

Apollo dipped his head to Patroclus as he guided the arrow of a young man. As Achilles cuts down another, Paris' arrow finds his heel un-dipped of immortality. Achilles feels it rush through his bones. He could feel the very snap of his life as a delicate string was cut.

The golden figure seems to crumble before the world's eyes. Yet he feels no real pain. Or at least not pain any bolder.

As everything slips away he would laugh had he the ability. The tears couldn't even come to his eyes. He let the earth take him as his soul pulled from his chest.

First before his gaze were the soft guise of Patroclus. There was a moments pause as Patroclus wondered if Achilles had truly feathered that veil which seperated them.

When Achilles let out a choking, hoarse noise it became very obvious that he had.

Patroclus was released to take Achilles into the soft embrace of death. A feeling that felt much softer than death had been described.

Achilles let out a soft laugh as the smaller man seemed to coddle him. He stroked the blonde locks now unstained with blood. He took in a deep breath of him and sighed to push down the tears.

Death gave them a moment. Their enemies felt a small sense of light. Even in the absence and destruction of a hero. The end seemed much kinder to the man than life had been; as they began to argue over his armor once again. Such a petty grievance of course.

The two begin to walk. After all the underworld awaits.

Hades welcomes the two men personally who laugh the entire way down.

"I told you I wouldn't last a day without you" Achilles muses while playing with Patroclus' hair. Patroclus didn't find the comment amusing.

"You're a fool, and tempered poorly" Patroclus still softens to kiss the side of Achilles mouth. "You've stolen luck that I love you anyhow."

Achilles melts with a sigh. The cold of death still hasn't touched him yet when compared to the warmth of Patroclus' adoration.

"Gentleman" Hades greets.

Both men bow and when they rise again Hades leads them further down. Though eternal in it's empty shallow, the two are promised that they shall suffer death together.

Together in eternity.

A dream by another name the two remain.