Summary: All children love to be loved, even those who are forced to grow up too soon. A young Patroclus oneshot. Absolutely NO slash, but lots of fluff, fluff, beautiful fluff! Please enjoy, and feel free to review!

Disclaimer: I don't own these two, but I still think they're just too cute!

Author's Note: Wow, I've gotta say this fic definitely takes the cake for the absolute fluffiest thing I've ever written. Seriously, I might as well just call it "The Fluffy Bunny Fic" or something fuzzy like that! I'm sure my fellow Four Brothers fans will be reminded of Bobby and a little Jack while reading this, and so I must thank authors like Whilom and Tori and everyone else who writes FB fluff, cuz I'm sure it all had a hand in inspiring this fluffiness. But without any further ado, please read on and prepare yourselves to be overwhelmed with bunches of warm, soft, fuzzies! Hope you smile!

Love to be Loved

"Wake up! Cousin, wake up! It's time!"

The excited young voice broke into the serenity of his dreams, and Achilles forced his eyes open with a low groan, craning his neck to get a glimpse of the child standing by his bedside.

"Huh?" he croaked.

"It's my birthday, Cousin, it's today!"

The shrill, youthful voice again reached his ears, but the Greek warrior only blinked his groggy eyes bewilderedly. "What?"

There came an impatient little sigh from behind him, and Achilles felt his bed give slightly before two small hands gave his shoulder an urgent shake.

"It's my birthday today," the voice insisted with childish exuberance. "You said we could start when it was my birthday – remember?"

With an overtly dramatic sigh, the golden-haired lord of the Myrmidons finally forced himself to roll over and confront this energetic little disturbance face to face. His young cousin knelt on the bed beside him, fully dressed and by all appearances ready to greet the day. And his big blue eyes shone with an excitement Achilles himself could never comprehend this early in the morning.

"Patroclus," he moaned wearily. "What are you doing?"

"Waking you up so we can begin training," the boy answered as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. "Don't you remember? You said you would start teaching me how to fight when it was my birthday. Remember?"

Achilles frowned at that, but he did indeed remember. If Patroclus could have had things his own way, they would have begun this training after he'd lived with his fabled cousin less than a month. But Achilles' mother, Thetis, had insisted that they wait at least until the boy turned eleven, primarily to give him the necessary time to recover emotionally from the shock of losing both his parents at such a young age. Was it now possible that this day could have arrived so quickly?

"Already?" he questioned hoarsely, turning back away from his charge. It was too early.

"Yes, already," came the reply from behind him in a tone of long-practiced exasperation that is so often customary of children. "Don't tell me you forgot?"

Achilles grunted, loathe to commit one way or another on that answer. "What time is it?" he muttered sleepily in a feeble attempt to change the subject, but Patroclus obliged him.

"The sun is up," he answered simply, as though that fact made the time of day entirely agreeable. But the older man maintained a strong suspicion that the sun had only been in the sky for a rather short period of time.

"Please, cousin!" Patroclus persisted, giving his guardian's shoulder another vehement shake. "You sleep even later than my grandfather did, and you aren't that old."

Achilles cracked one eye open at that, his foggy mind still battling to process the intent of those last words. "Is that so?" he remarked at last and suddenly rolled over, grabbing Patroclus and playfully wrestling him to the bed.

The boy tried to push him away but ended up simply curling up on himself in harried defense when Achilles began to tickle him around the ribs, and the older warrior grinned himself as he watched his little cousin laugh and shriek with breathless delight.

"Do you surrender?" he asked finally and relented just long enough for the boy to catch his breath.

Patroclus hesitated a moment, almost as though considering his options, before loudly declaring, "Never!"

The great warlord above him felt his heart swell with pride at his cousin's bold response, but since he could not permit the boy's defiance to go unpunished, he set about to tickling the youth once more and was rewarded by another high-pitched squeal. Patroclus giggled gleefully and tried yet again to elude his cousin's reach, but he was really quite helpless in this present position on his back.

Achilles let him win, though, and gave the child room enough to squirm out of his grasp. Patroclus then decided to press his luck and sought to wrestle his elder back down to the bed. His guardian humored him, allowing himself to be brought low, but he brought the new eleven-year-old down with him so that Patroclus lay halfway atop his cousin, arms wrapped tightly around the older man's neck.

All was quiet for a moment then, and Achilles reached up to smooth down the disheveled mop of blonde hair just beneath his chin. He could feel the boy's rapid heartbeat against his own strong chest, as well as the rush of warm air from his cousin's breathing that brushed against his neck. And he found it all strangely comforting, giving him a peace like he had not known in many years.

Achilles bent down then and planted a gentle kiss on top of the boy's head, giving his unruly hair another ruffle for good measure, and Patroclus responded by burying his face in his cousin's neck, almost as though he were seeking shelter there from some unseen terror.

"I love you, Cousin," he whispered, arms tightening instinctively around his guardian's neck.

Achilles smiled and gave the youth's shoulder a reciprocating squeeze. "I love you, too, Patroclus," he replied, but in his heart, the famed warrior felt a sudden pang.

He gazed down at his young charge in silent wonder. The boy's admiration of him was painfully evident, but what had he ever done that Patroclus so idolized him? What made him, of all people, so worthy of this child's innocent, unadulterated affection? Didn't Patroclus know that his cousin's only true talent was with a sword? Or was it perhaps that Patroclus did know this but still chose to believe more of his esteemed guardian?

Over the past five months that Patroclus had been in his care, Achilles had seen a gradual return of the boy's youthful joy and exuberance, but there still seemed to be a lingering veil of pain and sorrow behind the child's eyes. Perhaps it would always be there.

Patroclus slid off his cousin then, opting now to snuggle up against him, and Achilles likewise responded by rolling back over onto his side. He wrapped an arm around the boy and pulled him close so that the strands of dark blonde hair tickled his nose. The youth clung gratefully to his cousin's arm, and Achilles sighed.

Patroclus was clearly eager for blades and battle, but what he truly needed, now more than ever, was simply to be loved. And deep down, the godlike son of Peleus knew that his own needs were not so very different at all. Indeed, he was glad the boy was here. It was so calm and still now, with just the two of them, and he suddenly found himself even more loathe to get up than before.

He glanced down at his cousin, but with the boy facing away from him, it was impossible to tell if he was asleep. Achilles fervently hoped that was the case, for in his estimation, studying the art of warfare could well afford to wait a little longer. But he should have known better, especially when he noticed what felt like a small foot tapping with barely restrained energy down by his knee.

"So," the same small, hopeful voice suddenly broke into his reflections, "can we get started now?"

Achilles closed his eyes once again and groaned, but still he smiled. He could truly say that he had come to empathize with his own mother over the last few months, and the words she had spoken many times in his own childhood now came flitting back into his memory: Children will never sleep when you want them to. Why was his mother always right?