Disclaimer: Homer created them. Hollywood turned them into one big Alternate Universe. I use them.

Dedication: To all the people that was kind enough to review. I had never gotten so many reviews. I'm all bouncy.

A/N: I'm sorry I took so long. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Please don't hate me. You'll have plenty of time to do it in upcoming chapters. Also, this chapter is unbetaed. So extra apologies for the mistakes.

Summary: Remember how Hector hit Paris with a sword? Well, now he has to tend to the wound. Paris is 16 years old and Hector is around 22.

As the two brothers made their way to the palace, Paris started shaking. He was freezing even though his back felt terribly hot. As he felt Hector strengthen the hold he had on him, he decided he never wanted to touch a sword again. He was led to his room and Hector made him lie down on the bed.

"I'll see someone comes to see to the wound" he said in a whisper, turning to leave.

"I'm cold" Paris ran his gaze through the floor. He noticed that small drops of blood made a trail from the door to the bed. The sheets were going to be ruined.

"I shall arrange that as well" Hector muttered walking to the door, not wanting to face his kin.

Paris rolled on the bed so he was face down. The fabric of his tunic was bothering him, but he didn't dare to try to take it of. He cried burying his face on the pillow. The eldest prince stopped his exit. He could hear his brother's sobs though the young man silenced them with the bedclothes. He turned around and went to sit beside him.

"Paris, I'm so sorry" he said running a hand through the boy's hair

"Make it stop" the boy asked between sobs. Without another word Hector stood up and exited the room.

He was taking too long. Paris thought that maybe Hector had decided not to help him. That maybe he was supposed to tend to the wound by himself. The young prince started to panic at the possibility of his brother leaving him. He sighed in relief when finally Hector appeared on the door, carrying clean clothes and a vessel with fresh water.

"I'm sorry" he mumbled again as he worked on the boy's garments.

Paris winced whenever Hector brushed the wound. "You didn't leave". The man halted his movements

"Did you want me to?" he asked flatly.

"No!" the boy turned, thinking his brother had raised. "GODS!" he gritted his teeth, deciding that sudden movements were a terrible idea.

Hector pressed a hand to his shoulder, preventing him from making any further movement and proceeded to clean the wounded flesh. He brushed the drenched clothes as carefully as he could, trying not to look directly at the injury; it looked angered at him and he felt ashamed at the fact that it had being himself who had inflicted it to his beloved brother. Paris had closed his eyes, the water was soothing and he felt slightly better. However, he was still tense. Before that day, he had known that Hector wouldn't let any harm come to him. That he'd always be safe with his brother.

The older prince took out a needle he had already threaded, and careful of not letting Paris see it he began to close the wound together.

"Ow!" The boy gave a little jump "Brother, that hurts" he kept jumping every time the needle went through his skin, but he didn't know what it was.

"What are you doing?"

"Mending it" was all he got for an answer

"Isn't it supposed to... not hurt?"

"Well, I'm piercing through your skin, so I think it is supposed to hurt a little"

"You're what?!" Paris tried to move, but his brother had anticipated it and already had a strong hold on him. "... I-is that absolutely necessary?"

"If I don't it will not heal properly" Hector explained regarding his little brother.

Paris fell silent and closed his eyes again. He wasn't in the position to discuss with his brother.

"You are not telling father, are you?" he asked after a few moments "He doesn't need to know"

Hector sighed "My behavior was despicable young prince" he said sadly

"Don't tell him" the boy pleaded

"You have nothing to fear if father was to find out Paris"

"I don't want him to know"

"Are you letting an opportunity for him to console you pass by?" Hector asked, trying to smile

"I am" Paris answered, turning to look at his brother.

The man turned to finish his task "Thank you" he whispered placing a cool cloth on the youth's wound.

"It was my own fault"

Hector kept silent for several seconds "What do you say to starting with the bow next time?" he asked, carefully rolling the boy to his back.

"Are you serious?" he asked amused. "I thought you'd send me with the women to learn their arts"

"It is as good fighting art as any other" the oldest said smiling.

"Archery..." It did seem much safer than sword fighting.

"Ponder it over your sleep, my baby brother" he dropped a kiss to the youth's mouth and stood up.

"Won't you be staying with me?"

Rolling his eyes, Hector moved to the foot of the bed to unlace Paris' sandals.

"If you're asking me"

Paris nodded and blushed. He looked at his brother, realizing he'd need his help until his back healed and suddenly felt like he was 4 years old. Hector sat beside him removing his own garments. After undressing he climbed into the bedding.

"All settled then" he smiled at his brother. Paris rolled carefully and passed an arm over Hector's chest.

"Goodnight" he said. His eyes already closed.

"Are you still cold?" asked the oldest pulling the fur cover over them

"I'm alright"

Hector drove his hand to rest on Paris' head and began to massage slowly

"Goodnight princess"

The boy's eyes flew open and glared.

"Hectooooor!"

Hector let out a chuckle and placed his free arm over the one resting on his chest.

Paris woke up in the middle of the night and stood up carefully, trying not to make noise. He walked slightly hunched outside his chamber and to the nearest bathroom. Hector noticed the movement, but he didn't rise. The boy returned a few minutes later after almost tripping a couple of times. He went back under the covers letting out a quiet groan not wanting to get up ever again. He tried to go back to sleep, closed his eyes and managed to lay still for a full 8 and a half minutes. Then he started shifting. Hector tried to settle him with a hand on the boy's arm.

"Are you awake?"

"No"

"Brother?" Paris tugged at Hector's hand

"What Paris?" the man asked, voice heavy with sleep

"I'm thirsty"

Not too gently Hector rolled the boy to his side and pressed himself to his back, arms tightly around him.

"If you even think of getting up again, I'm breaking your back" he muttered.

The boy sighed contently. He hadn't been that thirsty anyway. Hector buried his face in his hair.

"Sleep" he commanded against the mane of curls. The young prince obeyed, enjoying his brother's warm breath on his neck.

A/N: The kiss, yes, I know. In the movie Paris kisses Andromache on the mouth, so we figured they were the kind of family that kisses... alright, try not to hate me. This will be incest in later chapters. But, since I love you all and don't want you to be angry at me, I can give this story the best ending I can manage and take the rest of it elsewhere, or I can keep posting it here and endure your angry glares, please review and tell me which way to go. The rating of later chapters is barely an R, I swear. There's just this tiny little absolutely non-graphic scene. You have my word.