Hi! I'm Toby, this is ym SoA drabble collection. I posted it a couple of years ago on ao3 but figured I might as well put it here as well, since I've been reading a little more here lately (it's like coming full circle :) ). Even though there's abou... 30? fics on here for song of achilles? Who cares. Enjoy!
Title is from Vienna by Billy Joel
Disclaimer: If I owned Song of Achilles, you'd know. Everyone would know. Trust me.
Everything was spinning too fast.
Pat stumbled his way to the bathroom, mumbling apologies for bumping into people he couldn't identify. A migraine this bad hadn't happened in a while, and it was so much worse when they came on during school. The lights were too bright, and everything was too loud — a locker door slammed shut a little way down the hall, and Pat flinched.
He tripped over the threshold and let the door shut behind him, thankful that the place seemed empty. Not bothering to check the cubicles, the teenager collapsed against the sinks and slid down to the floor, breathing heavily with his eyes screwed shut. He knew he hadn't slept enough last night and the chemistry test second period hadn't helped; by the time Pat had got out of the classroom, it was obvious the migraine was coming.
Too caught up in the pain in his head, he didn't notice the soft footsteps approaching until their owner crouched down next to him. Cracking his eyes open, Pat tilted his head to the side to see who it was. He only caught a glimpse of golden hair before nausea overtook, and he had to close them again so he didn't throw up.
"Are you okay?"
The soft words bounced around his skull, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Pat licked his dry lips, feeling the need to explain to this random stranger why he was sitting on the floor of the toilets.
"Migraine…" he mumbled.
"Do you have anything to help? Medication?" The other's voice was much softer now, more bearable.
"Pills… in my bag."
Pat felt the other boy search his bag for the medicine, pulling it out a minute later. He accepted the offered water bottle gratefully, downing the tablet and groaning as it set his head off again. The stranger sat down beside him and let the silence stretch on. It wasn't uncomfortable.
After about 10 minutes, Pat felt well enough to lift his head from where it had been resting on his hands and realised the other boy was still there.
"Thank you," he said quietly. The other stirred suddenly, as if he had been half asleep.
"It's no problem. Patricius, right?"
Pat usually hated that name, but it didn't sound bad coming from the stranger's mouth. He liked the way he pronounced it, articulating each syllable: Pa-tri-cius. For some reason, though, it didn't feel completely right. It didn't feel complete.
—
"Yeah. Sorry, I don't know your name."
"I'm… Ace." We locked eyes for a moment, then longer. "I think." It was spoken so quietly, but we were close enough that I had no difficulty picking it up.
"I'm not quite sure." I breathed.
"Me neither."
A flash of golden hair like honey in the brilliant sunlight. Driftwood on a beach in the warm summer. A grassy hill behind a cluster of tents. Achilles.
I could see the exact moment he knew. The moment when it all flooded back, brilliant green eyes becoming sharper and yet more gentle, ageing millennia in a moment.
"Patroclus." The name rolled easily off his tongue, filling a space I did not know was empty, completing a cycle I had not known existed.
It was so natural, something I had said a thousand times before, and yet the air changed so suddenly it was hard to breathe.
"Achilles."
Electricity seemed to arc through the space between us, making my heart pound in my chest.
Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba bum.
We sat there for a long time, just cherishing being together. We had all the time in the world, and every second after it ended. Nothing mattered right now except Achilles, found after a life of searching without knowing. We were back together, and if I had anything to say about it, it would stay that way until we met again, in another life, in another time. Forever.