A/N Hello! This is part one of a two-shot I've written. I hope you enjoy it and if you like it, review and let me know!
CHAPTER ONE.
Achilles was in a foul mood.
Agamemnon was getting on his last nerve arguing about the loss of twelve men - good fighters, in a botched feigned retreat tactic that morning that Achilles had been against from the beginning, and now Odysseus had just stormed out of the tent after a meaningless, petty row about finances. All he wanted to do now, was quite simply drown his sorrows in wine until he could not remember his name. Too much to ask? He thought not.
"Achilles?" The soft question sounded from the entrance to the tent.
Achilles felt his spirits rise - Patroclus. The only one in this entire godforsaken place who gave a damn whether Achilles was well or not. He turned to greet him.
"Good Evening" he acknowledged and shuffled to the right to give his beloved friend space to sit down beside him.
Patroclus smiled and did as he was bid, but the smile was strained.
"Are you well?" Patroclus asked worriedly "you've been out of sorts all day"
"Today has been difficult" Achilles shrugged "and you? You are well?"
Patroclus hesitated "I wanted to ask you a favour"
"Name it and I will see what I can do" Achilles replied instantly.
Patroclus smiled, genuinely at the show of devotion but the anxiety that was rising in his chest was not quelled yet.
"I need your permission to leave, Achilles" He said, gently.
Achilles head snapped up "Excuse me?"
"I need your permission for a leave of absence" he repeated, quietly.
"How long?" He asked in a dangerously low tone.
"Achilles-"
"How long are you to leave me for?!" Achilles roared "In the heat of battle, the most important time in my life where I could die any day, Patroclus! How long will you desert me for?!"
Patroclus flinched.
"Answer me!"
"Six months, my father he -" Patroclus trailed off fearfully.
Achilles stared at Patroclus, too angry to move.
"you would leave me for six months?" Achilles snarled.
"Ach-" Patroclus whispered.
Achilles snapped. All the rage and frustration that had built up all day, the anger, loneliness and helplessness he felt, bubbled up to the surface and for the first time in his young life, the hero lost it. Achilles leapt to his feet and grabbed Patroclus by the neck, pinning him to the floor in one swift motion.
"You are nothing but a traitor! A coward! Deserting me and your people in our time of need! To think I loved you?! You are nothing but a coward, a coward, a coward!" He exploded, his voice uncontrolled and hoarse.
His fist flew, landing with each word, his fury spitting from his mouth.
"Fine! Leave me! I insist!" He spat bitterly.
He grabbed a bleeding and coughing Patroclus and hauled him to his feet, ignoring the winces and moans.
"In fact, as I am such a generous leader, I will give you an extension on your leave. You shall go and never return " He growled "If I see you again, I will not hesitate to kill you."
With that final blow he shoved the young man out of the tent and stormed back to his table where, swearing and cursing, he picked up his cup of wine and began to drink. He drunk and drunk and drunk until finally, still red-faced and with swollen knuckles, he fell into an alcohol induced stupor and slept for hours and hours undisturbed - blissfully unaware of what he had just done.