Work Text:
She was over again, the neighbour’s daughter, Briseis. She often came over to play with their cat, though it was not often Achilles saw her, he was always at work.
“Hello’” he said to her, watching as she stroked the black fur of Phoenix. Her back was pressed up against their living room wall sitting on the floor, Phoenix on her lap purring.
She should go home, it was late. But before he could say anything she turned her head towards him and opened her mouth to speak.
“Mommy won't get up from bed anymore.”
Achilles’ mouth dried up, heart dropping to his stomach, “Is she sick?” he managed.
“No, she just sleeps. I bring her food when she is hungry.”
Achilles rubbed his face with his hand. Briseis’ father died in the war, ever since then her mother has been in a depression. Achilles brought food over to them every Sunday.
“Just today?”
“No, she has been sleeping for two days.”
Gods.
He walked over and sat next to her, dropping his satchel and sliding his back down the wall. Briseis stared blankly at Phoenix, before her mouth wobbled into a frown.
“I miss daddy,” she sobbed, pressing her cheek against Phoenix’s fat back. Eyes welling with tears and shoulders shaking.
Achilles sighed and put his hand on her head, turning his head away and letting her cry it out. He hated seeing her cry, truely. He did not know how to comfort her. Patroclus did, though. He was better with children.
But he was not here right now.
Briseis sniffed and let her body slump against his, quieting from her tears. And after a while,
“I miss Patroclus too.”
He turned his head towards her, a bit startled and the statement.
“I do too,” he whispered before getting up to get her a tissue to wipe her snot and tears. His knees cracked when he got up. He was getting old, he noted.
He would be thirty eight next year, almost already two years since Patroclus’ passing. They would not grow old together, hear each other's joints crack when they got up, watch as wrinkles developed and hair turn gray. They had been robbed. The gods were cruel for it.
He crouched down and gingerly wiped her tears and snot with the tissue he acquired from the kitchen.
“Briseis,”
“Hm,”
“You should go home, it's late.”
“Okay.”
She slowly got up, Phoenix jumping off her lap and scurrying off. They stepped out into the porch and she slipped her tiny hand in his. It was exceedingly dark outside, and cold. Winter was coming around the corner.
They walked back to Briseis house together, sticks and dry autumn leaves crunching under their shoes, darkness swallowing them whole, but at least they had each other, hand and hand, so they would not get lost.
“It’s cold.” an observation from Briseis.
“Hm.”
When they reached her door she opened it, went inside and turned around.
“Bye,” a whisper.
“Bye, don't forget to lock it,”
“Okay.”
She shut the door gently. Achilles waited to hear the click of the lock before he walked back to his house.
He kicked off his shoes and picked his bag off the floor, heading upstairs to get changed out of his suit. He wished Patroclus was here, in his favourite flannel pajamas, already under the covers, with his glasses folded on the bedside table. Yellow light from the lamp reflecting off his dark curls and dark skin. Reminding him to brush his teeth. Achilles felt sick.
He went to go brush his teeth and wash his face before getting into bed. It was cold, it always was without Patroclus. Quiet, cold, and stale. He hated the silence, it would devour him whole, it always did. He wasn't used to it, the absence of Patroclus, he doesn't think he ever will be.
Patroclus on the hospital bed, wiping Achilles’ tears away with his hands. Patroclus days away from death, holding onto Achilles hand for dear life
<\span>
I am scared, Achilles,
now it was his turn to cry,
I will never see you again.
Patroclus dying, he was there with him, squeezing his hand so hard it must have hurt.
After cremation and funeral matters were done he would not get up from bed. People knocked on the door, no doubt to express their sorry for his loss, everybody knew and liked Patroclus, how could they not? they would bring him food and he would not answer. He would not move for anything unless he needed to piss or shit. He wanted to die, to starve to death, with Patroclus’ ashes next to him on the bedside table. We would have starved to death if Briseis mother had not called the cops thinking he was dead already. He regretted not killing himself earlier instead of waiting for starvation to take its toll, he would have been dead by now.
Perhaps it was selfish, he thought of Briseis whose mother was incapable of taking care of her for now, grief pinning her to the bed. Surely he should help take care of Briseis, that is what Patroclus would have done. Briseis missed him too. Achilles was a poor substitute, she was closer to Patroclus. Playing games with him when she was over to see Phoenix, swinging on his arms. He missed that too, missed watching them play. He once asked him if he wanted a kid and Patroclus laughed.
No I don’t, Briseis is enough for us, don’t you think?” He had pinched Achilles nose.
Now it was just him, he and Briseis. He could never substitute for Patroclus, the thought of it was an insult.
A knock sounded at his door at eight fifthten AM. He was awake but still in bed and not planning to get up anytime soon, whoever it was could wait until later.
Another knock. Still not answering.
A third knock.
A fourth.
And at the fifth Achilles dragged himself out of bed to go see which insufferable person of the town wanted out of him at eight in the fucking morning. He went barefoot in his pajamas, cold floor seeping into his feet.
A click of the lock and the creak of the door as he opened it a sliver. He squinted at the light as he peaked his eye out for a look.
And there was Briseis standing with her backpack, hands gripping the straps.
“Can you drive me to school? Mommy doesn’t wanna get up,”
He blinked.
“Please?”
He stared squinting. Then he signed and ran his hand through his hair, sliding it down to rub at his face.
“Okay.” he agreed, why the fuck not? He was already up anyways. He slipped his shoes on and grabbed his keys and they drove.
“Do you need money for lunch?”
“No, I took from mommy’s wallet,”
“Did you tell her you were going with me before leaving?” fuck, he should have asked her that before they left.
“Yes,”
“Do you need me to pick you up?”
“Yes,”
“At what time?”
“Two thirty,” okay, work started at three thirty.
“…How old are you now?
“Nine.”
Damn, for a nine year old she sure was organized. They arrived at the school and he stopped the car at the drop off zone.
“Tell your mom to call me if she picks you up,”
“Okay,”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Briseis hopped out if the car and headed towards the school.