A/N: This chapter is probably the most emotional yet, but I think it was worth the wait.

Don't own them, never will.

Reviews ALWAYS welcome!

Chapter 4

Alexander and I agreed we would travel to Babylon. Whence we traveled to Babylon, we were welcomed as heroes. No, that is not entirely true; Alexander was welcomed as a hero. The rest of us where welcomed as his companions.

That night, we were treated as guests to a dance native to the area. Ironically, Alexander's eunuch, Bagoas, danced. How he knew the dance itself when he was not native to Babylon is beyond me. When he finished, I could tell it had pleased Alexander, because I witnessed my best friend get up and go to kiss him.

That night, we were all settled around the fire, and the wine flowed. It was many hours into the night when Cleitus, who had been Philip's right hand and was now under Alexander's command, began chiding him.

"How can you so young compare yourself to Hercules?" he asked.

"Why not?" Alexander sneered, bending forward. "I've accomplished more than he did, traveled twice as far…"

"Hercules did it himself!" Cleitus shouted back at him.

Shut up, Cleitus, you know not what you say. I silently chided him.

"Did you conquer Asia by yourself?" he shouted again. "Of course you didn't! If it wasn't for your father's influence, you would not be where you are today!"

"Say nothing more of that do you hear me!" Alexander bellowed. "Say nothing more!" I could see that Alexander was losing control.

"Come Alexander…" I put my hands on his shoulders, hoping to lead him away.

"Get your hands off of me, Hephaistion!" he twisted and tore away from me. This hurt me, but it was nothing compared to what Alexander was feeling at this very moment. In my eyes, I had done all I could, it was out of my hands now.

"Oh so you need your precious bitch to lead you away?" again, Cleitus chided him, but I bit my tongue. I did not know what Alexander was going to do, he was very unpredictable.

"Admit it Alexander, you are nothing more than a coward who hides behind his father's name!"

That's when Alexander lost control completely. He wrestled a spear out of one of the guard's hands and impaled Cleitus on the other end.

In shock, Alexander dropped to his knees and let out a desperate cry.

My mouth dropped open. I had seen death, before, absolutely, but never had I witnessed something so sudden, so rash.

Three days later, Roxanne, Alexander's wife, came rushing into the tent. I rushed through the tent flaps and stopped her.

"I want to see him."

"He says none," I told her, "not even you…"

"He needs me," she insisted.

"No," I hissed, stopping her in her tracks. "He doesn't."

"And he needs you?" she sneered at me.

Damn right he needs me.

Saying nothing, I turned away and went back into the tent, all the while hearing "Hephaistion, you make a mistake," come out of Cassander's mouth.

Shut up, you old prick; we all know you're sleeping with Roxanne. I kept this part silent, mind you. Alexander did not need to hear this through the tent.

"The army needs your reassurance," I told him, bending down in front of him. He looked tired, and drunk. Not drunk, but rather he was suffering the aftereffects of too much wine.

"What does it matter now? Cleitus was right, I am a tyrant…" he leaned into Bagoas' lap, sobbing.

"You are no tyrant. You are Alexander…" I shook him when he lifted his head. "This has only made you realize that you are mortal," I leaned in closer to his ear. "And they forgive you because you make them proud of themselves…"

He did not look like he was convinced.

"I am proud of you, my Achilles," I told him.

Hearing this, Alexander got up to his knees, and wrapped his arms around my neck. I was sure this was what he needed to hear.

Through strangled tears, I heard him whisper.

"And I you, my Patroclus."