KINDHEARTED.

[ sms. Pat Pat ] you haven’t seen me tired because i’m NEVER TIRED.

[ sms. Pat Pat ] i have a job, sure. a provisional job. puns included. and i do much better than you do but then again, that’s always been true, hasn’t it?

[ sms. Pat Pat ] come to my apartment and tell me if you think i have a job or not.

[ TEXT : ANDY ] Do you see where the fact that you’re never tired might concern me?

[ TEXT : ANDY ] 🙄🙄🙄

   “Do you  l o o k  undead?” Ever condescending, Cate. The question was asked to state the OBVIOUS. Jesus, couldn’t Goddesses have hobbies outside of their… realm of talents? Fuck knows Hera got off on way more shit than she did. 

   Anyways, it was a fascination of the  r e i n c a r n a t e d  f l e s h. Brought back to life in gifts that no mere unassuming mortal could ever comprehend. Sometimes, it baffled the Goddess of Magic herself. So much so that she wished she could peel back the layers of his skin and LOOK at him through a microscope. 

    “I’m not here to collect your soul, or what’s left of it.” Hecate snorted, “that’s not in my… j u r i s d i c t i o n.”  

   “What does undead look like?” Patroclus hadn’t really been worried about his soul being repossessed, but now he’s wondering if he should have been.  “That would be Thanatos, or Hades, I imagine.”

   He takes a moment to send up a prayer to Thetis, who got him used to the presence of beings that could kill him by looking at him wrong, so that he’s not now stumbling over his words or cowering in fear.  As a child he was too brazenly stupid to know he should be scared, and then there was Achilles and his mother to be sure the tendency stayed; he’s respectful out of common sense, but not terrified.

the  response  satisfies  her.      her  smile  spreads  on  her  face  like  sunlight  on  the  arrival  of  dawn  ,  turqoise  eyes  casting  a  gentle  gaze  upon  the  young  man  before  she  takes  a  sip  from  her  tea.    ‘  that  is  very  true  ,  ’   she  affirms  ,  nodding  once  and  shifting  in  her  seat  ,  legs  now  crossed  under  the  table.    ‘  the  purpose  of  wars  haven’t  changed  at  all ;  if  anything  ,  the  only  advance  is  the  technology.  humans …  seem  to  have  become  even  more  thirsty  for  blood  and  victory.  matters  of  war  aside  ,  i  think  that  you  made  a  remarkable  choice.  ’

               it  is  said  not  as  a  goddess  ,  but  as  a  friend  ,  even  as  a  mother.  her  input  ,  though  unasked  for  ,  is  given  ,  because  the  roots  of  healing  run  through  her  veins.     ‘  you  are  a  life  saver  ,  that  is  very  honorable.  was  it  something  you  aimed  towards ?  ’

   It’s profoundly stupid that men have been fighting over money and women and land for the entirety of recorded history, so he doesn’t argue with that, although it could be argued that gods invented war.  But if they did, in any case, humans have certainly made it more bloodthirsty, so there’s not really anything to argue about.  He shrugs one shoulder and half-smiles, since agreeing would make him a hypocrite and disagreeing would make him a liar.

   She’s not his mother, but her approval does make him proud.  He respects her; that makes her word mean something.  “Not really.  It’s a little ironic, considering how many people Achilles and I have killed.”

[ sms. Pat Pat ] have you ever seen me tired, though?

[ sms. Pat Pat ] maybe I should cut down if sleeping for 8 hours like you and still being exhausted is normal. are people meant to just be tired all the time?

[ sms. Pat Pat ] you’re not just with me though. 

[ TEXT : ANDY ] I don’t know what you being tired looks like, so I’m not really sure.  And I like sleeping, sue me.

[ TEXT : ANDY ] I have a job now. I think you have a job, too.

[ sms. Pat Pat ] four hours is fine. but having you worry about me is kinda sexy. 

[ sms. Pat Pat ] if you’re so concerned about my sleeping pattern then it’d do you good to stay in a bed with me. you know i make more of an effort to sleep when you’re there all exhausted with me. 

[ TEXT : ANDY ] Four hours is halfway to fine.  I’ve been worried about you since the 1300s BC.

[ TEXT : ANDY ] Achilles, I’m always exhausted with you.

     – “ ‘Athena or Hera’ why the  s h i t   does everybody always start out with those two bitches?” Of course, ever the little coward, Hecate wouldn’t exactly call Hera a bitch to her face. Athena, maybe, depending on her MOOD. The Goddess rolled her eyes at the mere idea of her form being mistaken for one of the two of them. Far too uptight. Popular. Righteous. The list toddled on and on for eons really. Family does that to you. 

      “I’m much more FUN.” That was what she was going with – maybe that was why they kicked her out. Well, either that or she mouthed off far too much for Zeus’ liking. Controlling  b a s t a r d. 

       Part of Hecate wanted to drag this out. Perhaps not give him an answer. That would be enjoyable. She knowing everything about Patroclus and he absolutely nothing about her. 

      Or maybe, she could throw him a  b o n e.

      “I am Hecate. Goddess of Witchcraft, Necromancy and all that jazz.” 

   In this case, because there are no other goddesses with the exception of Thetis — who would announce herself — who have previously had anything to do with him, even indirectly, but Patroclus doesn’t see the point in arguing with goddesses over whether or not he’s reasonable.  Regardless of whether he is, they’re often not, and being right is not worth enough to him to press it.

   He’s also not going to say anything that indicates he agrees with Athena or Hera not being fun, because where one god is there are often others, you never know when they’re listening, and if his last go around taught him anything, it’s that pissing off gods is a terrible idea.

   “ — you’re right, that’s far from being Goddess of Marriage.”

   Patroclus, you had not actually suggested she might be Hera, but you were about to guess Mania, or possibly Lethe, so it’s probably best she took the reins from you.

   “Does this mean I’m technically undead?”

[ sms. Pat Pat ] half the time that’s not good enough. 

[ sms. Pat Pat ] it’s ridiculous! 1/3 of your life spent asleep seems like a waste. wasn’t being dead for that long good enough for you? 

[ sms. Pat Pat ] I’m sleeping more with you around. can’t tell if that’s a good sign or not.

[ TEXT : ANDY ] The difference between being asleep and being dead is fairly important.  You’re saying about four hours, then? You know that’s not enough.

THE TOUCH does it’s job. his hands slide from patroclus’ hips, upward, over his sides, up to the firm ribcage, just touching him. every part of him aches for this, even whilst he’s here, it’s bittersweet, a victory, a death. he doesn’t doubt that this moment, it’s borne from all that he’s wanted, all that he’s EXPECTED. the bombardment of dark feelings, those he doesn’t indulge in often, the guilt, the fear, the loss, they’ll fade with Patroclus back. 

         but for now, they remain a tide, hungry, unthinking, wasting the shore slowly.

he smiles ; he knows it’s not his fault - patroclus’ death was borne on the hands as FATE just as his own was, but he could never forgive anyone for it. even himself. it matters less now, now that patroclus is here, breathing, smiling. 

❛  maybe you’ll listen to me better this time around, then.  ❜  it’s mostly a joke, he knows Patroclus is incapable of indulging him in this; and he smiles, leaning in to kiss him again, still hungry, unable to ice anything, he’s a fire and a car crash. but the kiss warms him, he’s smiling when he pulls away, letting go of Patroclus and stepping back, eyes on him still, tracking him in his movements like prey ready to meet his spear. 

        ❛  you’ve got two floors of ‘ice’ – better hurry though.              I’ve got a lot more to thaw you with, Patroclus.   ❜

   It would be foolish, Patroclus, to expect Achilles to settle, and yet some part of you always has expected it, a little.

   He hasn’t dwelled on his death much, and refuses to now.  No matter how much Achilles wants to rehash it, he doesn’t think he’ll remember anything more than the downwards thrust of Hector’s spear, and moreover, he doesn’t care to.  Briefly, he thinks about the tattoo he’d planned to get where the blow had pierced him — cypress flowers blooming from the wound — and wonders if it’s still a good idea.  He decides that it probably isn’t, but that he probably doesn’t care.  Chances are, he’s not going to get any better at listening to Achilles anytime soon, and frankly, it has usually served him well.  With the exception of the dire warnings of his own death.

   “You know me, Achilles.  How likely do you think that is?”

   He pulls back from the kiss and turns towards the stairway again, once more resisting the urge to laugh.  He doesn’t think he’s had to suppress so much mirth so often for a long time.  If he dials Achilles down a notch, Achilles generally dials him up one.

   Since it’s just two floors and he doesn’t want to give Achilles another ready handle to hold them up at the top, he doesn’t take his hand back, but he does cast a glance over his shoulder and raise his eyebrows.

     “Mhm,” she hummed. A voice like satin that could turn on a dime. “One of my favourite positions to have a man.” Now she’s just mocking him. There’s something about having the upper hand that Hecate relishes in like a fucking CHILD. Na-na-na-na-na, I know something that you don’t – that kind of  t h i n g. 

     “I mean, you could guess if you really wanted to. I doubt you’d land on the RIGHT God. There are so many of us, after all.” Cate reached into her pocket to thumb out a cigarette; “want one, handsome?” 

   Patroclus has been around enough gods in his previous life to know that they can be bad news.  But, to be honest, he had mostly interacted with Thetis, who had loved Achilles enough that she hadn’t been much of a threat to him.  And Achilles, if you counted him, which, frankly, Patroclus never had.  But neither of them had been around in this life to keep him in practice, so he just sighs and raises his eyebrows.

   “Thank you.  I don’t smoke.  And you don’t strike me as Athena or Hera.  And I’m not sure what either of them would want with me, besides.”  Anyone who had come down on the Trojan side would probably have already gotten upset with the possible cheating of fate that his re-birth constitutes.  Or just not appeared to him.  That narrows it down slightly, and so does the fact that she’s appearing as a woman without trying to hide, but not that much.  And he’s not exactly the intellectual heavyweight Odysseus was, besides.  “I could spend the rest of the day listing, like you said.”

[ sms. Pat Pat ] then I should think you should grow up and sleep in a bed. 

[ sms. Pat Pat ] I don’t have insomnia

[ sms. Pat Pat ] I just dont need stupid amounts of sleep like the rest of you.

[ TEXT : ANDY ] I sleep in the bed at least half the time.

[ sms. Pat Pat ] couches aren’t made for sleeping.

[ sms. Pat Pat ] it’s almost like you think I’d care about you waking me up at 4am. do you not know me at all?

[ TEXT : ANDY ] I’ve been sleeping on that couch for at least ten years.

[ sms. Pat Pat ] people would kill to be more like me. 

[ sms. Pat Pat ] I can do whatever the fuck I want. and you’re wrong. it’s not considerate. literally. in no way. why the fuck would you do it? why do you do it?

[ TEXT : ANDY ] They would have to.