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Chapter Text

Achilles and Patroclus had lived in this apartment complex long enough to know how new neighbors arrived.

They arrived with moving trucks and laughing friends and relatives, to-be-put-together furniture pieces, cardboard boxes, laundry baskets stacked high with things that didn't belong in any of the other cartons, suitcases fit to burst with clothes, bags overflowing with last-minute belongings and housewarming gifts. They arrived with a barely bearable racket, chairs and couches and tables scraping across the floor, porcelain and glass clattering as the kitchen cabinets were being stacked. They arrived with little gifts or plates heaped with homemade cookies and snacks for the rest of the neighborhood, walking from door to door to introduce themselves and exchange the usual pleasantries.

Zagreus, to say the least, arrived differently – or better yet, nobody exactly knew how and when he had even arrived.

One day, he was just there, standing by the mailboxes in the foyer, pale and lost in thought, bent low over the letter he had apparently just gotten. And that was where Achilles first ran into him.

"Good morning," he said in passing, cautiously slowing his steps in case their apparently new neighbor intended to reciprocate and maybe introduce himself.

Zagreus didn't. He seemed so absorbed by whatever piece of paper he held clenched in his hands that he hadn't even taken note of the greeting. When he finally raised his gaze to close his mailbox and lock it again, Achilles took in his bloodshot eyes framed by dark circles. The boy looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks, he thought to himself as he pulled out his own key ring and went through today's mail.

"Moving really shouldn't be as exhausting as it is," he said casually while tucking the letters into the side-pouch of his bag and retrieving his key. "I didn't even notice we had a new neighbor around. You're good at keeping quiet."

Offering the boy a warm smile, Achilles pocketed the jingling bunch of little trinkets and charms students had gifted him over the years. Patroclus had managed to coax him out of bed in time this morning with the promise of a shared shower, so for once, he was in no rush to get to his first class of the day. Why not use the time to introduce himself to their new neighbor and run late because of that instead of his usual oversleeping?

Only now, Zagreus seemed to realize he was the one being addressed. Startled, his shoulders shot up from their hunched posture and the muscles of his neck clenched visibly with how hard he swallowed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even— Good morning, sir."

"Good morning," Achilles merrily repeated back at him one more time. "You do not seem like you're having one, though, if you'll pardon me."

The boy flushed from the bridge of his nose all the way up to his ears – an endearing sight, really. He seemed so childlike all of a sudden, and Achilles could not help but wonder how old he was. He must be about Neoptolemus' age. Shorter, too, although the sharp, ruffled spikes of his hair added a good few inches to his height.

"Sorry about that," Zagreus muttered and sheepishly tugged on the hem of his shirt. It was a bit tight around his shoulders and he had clearly slept in it. "I probably should have made myself a little more presentable before coming outside."

"Rest assured that nobody here will mind. In fact, most are already at work, so don't worry much about anyone else seeing you," Achilles responded, feeling bad for making the poor boy self-conscious first thing in the morning. "Everybody will understand that moving takes a toll."

Zagreus nodded faintly, more to himself than at Achilles. His gaze was already wandering again, almost like he didn't find it in him to keep looking at the man.

"Sure does," he mumbled.

"Gods, look at me. Here I am, making you question your manners because you stepped outside to get your mail in an old shirt, and at the same time I didn't even have the courtesy to introduce myself first. My name is Achilles."

Silly as it might sound, he felt stupidly proud of the tentative smile that grazed Zagreus' lips at his jest.

"I think we should be even, then. I'm Zagreus. It's nice to meet you, Achilles, sir."

Zagreus.

Unusual enough, but Achilles found he'd heard worse. The name had a nice ring to it – fitting, too. Like embers, like sparks from a fire, like wood cracking under the whisper of a flame.

"Well, anyway. I should probably get going too or I'll risk running late again," he said softly to let the boy off the hook. That was enough small-talk torture for one day. "I'm sure we'll run into each other again sometime. If you ever find yourself needing something, just come over and knock. I live in the second apartment to the left with my husband."

He gestured down the hall toward the door he had just closed behind himself. Zagreus followed the smooth motion of his hand to where he pointed and nodded cautiously.

"That's awfully nice of you, sir. I'll keep it in mind."

Achilles waved upon their parting and stepped out the front door with an elated spring to his steps. For once, the new neighbor seemed to be a perfectly pleasant person.

Behind him in the foyer, Zagreus stared after him for a long time, clutching the letter he'd been holding tightly in his fist until his knuckles matched the color of the paper. His pale lips carefully fitted themselves around the word 'husband'.

"You're home early."

"You're home late. What are we going to do about it?"

Achilles dropped his bag down and looked back at his clipboard, thoughtfully mouthing at the pencil he kept pressed to his lips as he wandered further into the apartment. A large hand cupped his waist and pulled him in tightly.

"Well. You could give me a kiss. Like normal people do when they find their spouse has returned from work two hours sooner than they were expected to," Patroclus whispered right against the curve of his ear and Achilles instinctively arched away from the shivers the sound sent down his nape.

Laughing, he threw the clipboard onto the counter of the kitchen isle and used the newfound freedom of his hands to cup Patroclus' cheeks and draw him in for a tender kiss. One kiss turned into two, then three, and then Achilles forgot to count and simply melted into his husband's embrace. Sometimes, he was still amazed at how effortlessly Patroclus could turn him into a purring heap of pure content just with a simple brush of lips.

"How was your day? Classes went alright?" said man muttered now, apparently more interested in the column of Achilles' neck than an actual answer as he trailed slow, sensual kisses down the arch of his throat.

"Guess so," Achilles breathed and knocked his head back. His hand had come up to gently weave itself into Patroclus' hair, gripping the dark, thick strands. "Hm… One of the boys nearly broke both legs today jumping from the top of the climbing wall."

Patroclus made a soft, noncommittal noise that could have been either – an invitation to elaborate or a request to please discontinue the conversation for now and turn to far more pressing matters like his tightening grip on Achilles' thigh that pulled his husband impossibly closer to let him feel the hardness between Patroclus' legs.

With the incessant assault on his neck drawing a consistent stream of moans and quiet gasps from him, Achilles barely found enough breath to laugh.

"How long have you been waiting?"

"Long enough to imagine you bent over the back of the couch for me. On your knees in the shower like this morning. Or up against the wall in the bedroom," Patroclus muttered, distracted with wrestling open Achilles' belt.

Four hands quickly discarded their clothes and Achilles had barely gotten around to stripping his shirt as well when Patroclus already reached one arm around him, impatiently feeling for the handle to the bedroom door. It gave way and they stumbled inside, grinning breathlessly.

"Jumping me the second I get home – is that your idea of romance?" Achilles complained in the most counterfeit indignant manner possible as he buried both hands in the thick, dark mane of Patroclus' hair and relished the warmth of it wrapping around his fingers.

In the dusk of their bedroom, the only light was the one enveloping Patroclus from outside the window where the streetlamps had just started to disperse their golden glow into the impending dark. The faint shimmer of pearl-white teeth flashed down at Achilles and he found his waist released at last while his husband sauntered over to the bed and, with his usual cat-like grace, sprawled himself out on top of the comforter.

"Are you going to complain about anything else now or will you just come here and let me show you what exactly my idea of romance is?"

Achilles rolled his eyes as he carefully undid his loose ponytail and tossed the hair-tie onto the dresser.

"Dashing as always, aren't you."

Across the room, Patroclus raised an eyebrow at him.

"When I was six, I licked a streetlight in the winter and got stuck to it. They had to blow-dry my tongue to get me free. What level of sophistication do you expect from me?"

Despite the aching desire his husband's touch and kisses had kindled mere seconds ago, Achilles burst into a laughing fit that brought tears to his eyes.

"What? Oh Gods, Pat! That's hilarious!"

"No, it wasn't hilarious. It was typical."

"Two can play that game," Achilles said, stepping out of his shorts. "When I was eight, I used to stuff rocks into the exhaust pipe of my father's car."

"I think you missed my point. I wanted to introduce you to the darker side of my personality."

Still grinning, Achilles swung one leg onto the bed and over Patroclus' waist, straddling him.

"Come on then. Show me your dark side."

"Why I licked the streetlight is still a mystery to me today. It was minus thirteen degrees outside, and it took an eternity to get enough extension cords for the hairdryer..."

Achilles buried his face against his husband's chest with a stifled laugh, immediately regretting that he'd insisted on hearing the full story right after Patroclus had positively ruined his throat and lungs for the rest of the week. He would have to bring his whistle tomorrow and hope for the best. Just the thought of having to yell sent a jab of pain from the back of his neck toward his jaw.

They were comfortably curled up beside each other in bed: Achilles had laid his knee across Patroclus' thighs and was resting his head on his husband's chest for a pillow while a hand gently caressed his hair in a soothing, rhythmic pattern.

"Admittedly, we both weren't the brightest kids."

An approving hum from beside him.

"Hey, Pat?"

Another hum.

"Speaking of kids—"

"Gods, don't tell me Neoptolemus is coming this weekend."

That was quick. Chuckling and wincing at the stabbing pain it provoked somewhere in his lower abdomen, Achilles closed his eyes.

"No, don't worry. We're free for another two weeks. Mother wants him to finish his exams for this semester first."

Patroclus grumbled something intelligible and pressed his face firmly into the waterfall of pale golden locks that was draped over his bare arm. His chest still heaved slightly from their lovemaking and there was a faint sheen of sweat left on his skin. Achilles lovingly traced his toned stomach with one hand, redrawing the line of dark hair that dipped below the blanket Patroclus had draped over them to keep warm.

Neoptolemus – or Pyrrhus, as he so liked to call himself ever since he had started high school and found his mother had made the worst possible choice in naming him something so abominably vile – generally spent his life with Thetis. She had immediately applied for custody of him when it had become clear that the boy's mother was not truly apt nor willing to raise a child she had never wanted in the first place, and she would've probably committed some third-degree murder if Achilles had even thought of bringing Neoptolemus into a 'perverted household' such as theirs.

Safe to say Thetis views on Achilles' choice of life partner had quickly rubbed off on Neoptolemus and now the one weekend a month he had to stay with his father – much to all involved parties' chagrin – he usually spent his time either insulting Achilles and Patroclus or moping in his room with the door locked, music set to a deafening volume level, just waiting for Thetis to pick him up on Sunday evening.

Either way: hellspawn-sitting weekends, as Achilles and Patroclus unanimously called them, were not a pleasant experience for anyone, but the court had ruled it so and although Achilles had often considered sparing them all some of the struggle and just paying the fee for violating the official custody regulations, he had never quite managed to put that plan into action until today.

"That's good," Patroclus sighed into his hair and kissed the crown of his head. "What were you going to say?"

Yawning, Achilles leaned into the tender display of love.

"We have a new neighbor."

"Do we now."

"Yes," Achilles muttered and allowed his eyes to gradually slide shut. "Nice kid, probably moved into the apartment across the hall in the corner. I met him when he picked up his mail this morning."

"I'll see to introducing myself then if I happen upon him somewhere," Patroclus said softly. "Sleep well, love."

With a sinister pout, his husband forcefully wrenched his eyes open again.

"I'm not falling asleep just yet, I still wanted to—"

Another yawn interrupted him and a soft laugh was all he heard before his lids drooped again.

"Sleep well, love."

This time with a little more insistence.

"His name's Zagreus," turned out to be the last sentence Achilles was able to articulate coherently – although weakly – before deep, satisfied sleep claimed him for good.

Chapter Text

"There's a new student enrolled in your class from now on. I trust you will pick him up from his last class of the day so we won't end up with a lost student wandering the campus after closing hours again because he couldn't find the gymnasium."

Achilles had barely set foot into the teachers' lounge when the headmaster had already shoved a piece of paper against his chest. More out of reflex than anything, he reached up to take it and Agamemnon promptly shouldered past him to avoid any sort of conversation. That was usually just the way it was between them – orders from Agamemnon, silent rage on both sides for about five seconds, then begrudging compliance from Achilles.

That's not how it was going to work this time around, though. This was a whole new level of nerve.

"I can't leave the others unsupervised in the gym hall while I'm picking up a single student!" Achilles shouted after the headmaster in stunned rage – as much shouting as his ruined voice would allow, anyway. "Yesterday, one of them nearly ended up in the hospital because I didn't watch them for a solid three minutes!"

Agamemnon spun and his bulging, steely-grey eyes nearly threatened to pop out of their sockets.

"Then I best advise you make sure no student of yours is left unsupervised today. How you manage that is your responsibility. Now, if I'm not mistaken, you're late for your first class already."

Well, he was not necessarily wrong, but it still stung to be left with that as the end to their conversation. Speechless, Achilles watched as the headmaster simply left the lounge and returned to his office at the far end of the corridor. In his blinding rage, he crumpled the paper up as violently as humanly possible and tossed it onto the nearest table where it skittered to a halt.

A slender, veined hand carefully picked it back up and smoothed it out.

"Looks like the little guy's last class ends at five. Harsh start for a first day," the owner of the hand commented and leaned back in his chair. His eyes, narrow and always restless, flickered from the page to his cup of coffee and back again. "You still give classes after five?"

Achilles grimaced.

"I have a few boys with ADHD and general hyperactivity who aren't fully engaged if they don't get their evening workout."

"My condolences. Or rather congratulations? I would probably go on permanent strike if Agamemnon told me to stay after three in the afternoon every day of the week. Anyway. Today I have some personal tutoring sessions after my regular hours. I should manage it to the gym by five to supervise your rowdy crew until you get there with the newest addition," Odysseus said without looking up. He gently laid the paper back down and stood, slung the belt of his worn leather bag (in a constant state of brimming with loose papers and thick binders) over his shoulder, and left without another word.

The ticking clock above the doorframe displayed in gloating malicious joy that he was late already anyway, so Achilles didn't bother to follow his colleague outside and thank him. He'd do that tonight when they inevitably ran into each other at the gym. Quickly clocking in, he turned on his heels and jogged down the hallway towards the staircase winding itself into the lower levels of the building and to the gym. His first class of the day had gathered before the doors already, swinging their gym bags back and forth, eagerly chatting among each other.

"Good morning," Achilles said in passing as he dragged the keys from his bag and unleashed the kids into the locker rooms. "Hurry up with getting changed so we can make the most of it. And please, for the love of the Gods, don't make me yell today."

"Are you ill? I noticed you get colds an awful lot," one of the girls said compassionately. "My mother has a great recipe for tea, and it really helps with sore throats and coughs! If you want it, I can mail it to you after class!"

Weren't they all just precious? Smiling at her, Achilles pulled his clipboard forward and began marking down the names of people he had definitely seen today. He would have to ask about absences later when they were gathered down in the gym hall.

"That's so sweet of you. I'd really appreciate it," he said en passant. "You just go get changed now and we'll maybe talk more of it later."

She hopped off, happy to maybe have been of some help, but Achilles couldn't help the grin on his face as he began to set up today's exercises. The only way his throat would catch a break was if Patroclus stopped being the god he was in bed. Which Achilles neither hoped nor expected to happen within the at least next fifty years or so.

The closer it got to five, the more frequently Achilles checked his watch and, just to be sure, also the clock protected by iron bars up near the windows just beneath the ceiling. Most of the boys for the evening class had already shown up and were currently busy yelling over each other and laughing in the changing room upstairs. Just as the first of them started crowding down and into the gym, Odysseus appeared behind them, shooing them off with a laugh when they immediately piled on him, inquiring about the grades of a test they'd apparently taken last week in his class.

"Gods, thank you for helping me out with this," Achilles said while hectically zipping up his jacket and exchanging his gym shoes for regular street shoes while his gaze wandered over who was already downstairs. "Watch the climbing wall, they're not allowed up there without the proper safety equipment, and make them stay at large from the remote controls, they like to think they know what the hell they're doing with them. Just last week one of them got stuck beneath the automatically closing gate of the equipment room. I'll be right back, give me five minutes!"

Odysseus, already swarmed again by a new batch of students, barely managed a nod before he was assaulted for information again. With one last compassionate glance over his shoulders, Achilles took the stairs two at a time before immediately turning towards the exit of the building. The newest addition to their evening workout was most likely waiting by the front office for him to come pick him up and show him the way to the gymnasium, so that was where he headed first.

On the way, he cursed himself for not having taken even a single look at the paper Agamemnon had handed him this morning. He didn't even know the boy's name. Well, nothing to do but apologize and ask.

He wouldn't have needed to worry much about it.

Standing by the glass door before the office was a boy with hunched shoulders, staring at a sheet of paper in his hands. An awfully familiar pose, Achilles found as he approached.

"Zagreus?"

The boy jolted with an expression close to frightened, as if he hadn't expected anyone to know his name around here yet. When he saw Achilles, the tension on his face eased visibly, but he clutched the paper he was holding even tighter.

"Achilles, sir."

"So, you're the new student in my class?" Achilles inquired, brows furrowing with every passing moment as he took in the sight of Zagreus standing there in nothing but jeans and a thin, long-sleeved shirt. "Why didn't you wait inside? It's getting rather chilly in the evenings now. You could have easily fallen ill, standing out here in the cold. And without a coat, at that!"

Before the boy could protest, he'd taken off his own jacket and wrapped it around Zagreus' shoulders. Maybe he was already fussing too much again, as Patroclus would put it, but he had seen the poor thing shiver just now and the Gods knew how long he had already been waiting here.

"I'm sorry," Zagreus whispered, eyes wide – not just a set of eyes, uniform and identical, eyes: one as green as newly sprouted summer leaves, the other red and cold as glistening pyrope.

How had he not noticed before? Achilles stared for a moment, certainly making a proper fool of himself, before he shook his head, not exactly knowing whether in response to the unprompted apology or to clear his head.

"Nothing to be sorry for. Wear a jacket tomorrow or your first day here will have been your last and you'll end up in bed with a cold for a week or so. Come now, I'll be showing you the way to the gymnasium. After today, you can just come there as soon as your last lesson ends. The doors will already be open and you can get changed with the other boys."

Speaking of which—

"You didn't bring your gym bag?"

Achilles' searching gaze wandered over the three stone steps that lead up to the front office, then over Zagreus' shoulders and hands, but the only thing the boy seemed to have brought was an old backpack and the piece of paper still tightly clutched in his hand as if he feared someone might tear it from him any second now.

His question only served to make the poor boy shrink back even further.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, this time even more quietly. Achilles almost thought he'd only imagined it.

Worried, he placed one hand on Zagreus' arm.

"Look at me, lad, that's okay. I know a new place and a new school can get overwhelming and it's by the Gods not the first time a student forgot their clothes. It's your first day, too, and nobody would expect you to think of everything all at once. For tonight, why don't you just come with me and watch how our evenings usually go? If you decide to keep this class in your curriculum, you will get your gym clothes from the school anyway, so don't worry too much about it."

The boy had cramped up so violently under his touch that Achilles cursed himself for reaching out in the first place. Quickly, he withdrew his hand, but Zagreus stayed tense even then. His eyes were nearly anxious to meet Achilles' gaze again when he finally managed to look up.

"Thank you, sir," he said through clenched teeth and reached up to gently coil his fingers around the collar of the jacket Achilles had put around his shoulders as if to hold onto the faint warmth of the fabric. Even now, he shivered again.

"There's the new guy!"

Howling like a pack of wolves, the boys came rushing at them and Achilles barely managed to stop them in their advance so they wouldn't run Zagreus over first thing.

"Whoever doesn't calm down now gets homework, and I'm serious about that," he warned while putting on his gym shoes again. That had them standing ramrod straight in one line immediately.

Achilles usually didn't hand out homework and the only grades he gave were influenced not by performance but by engagement, and yet they knew he had done it before to students who had run riot in his class. Better safe than sorry, they had decided it would be best to behave themselves.

Zagreus carefully peered at them from behind Achilles' back. He had tried to hand the jacket back immediately as soon as they'd entered the main building, but Achilles had seen the way he snuggled into it like it was some sort of protective armor, and had told him to keep it on under the pretense of insisting Zagreus had to warm up properly again after spending all that time waiting outside in the cold.

Obviously, the boy would have felt far too vulnerable without it when faced with the rowdy crew of five o'clock gym class.

"Good, you're here again. I thought it might interest you to know that they only had seven minor fights and one or two shouting matches over whether that ball was still on the line or out of court while you were gone."

Odysseus rose from a bench nearby and put away the papers he had apparently been grading in Achilles' absence.

"That's a success," the latter agreed and smiled at the boys who were trying to subtly elbow themselves out of line, snorting with laughter. "Thank you for doing this, Odysseus."

"No problem. Have a good night."

With that, his colleague disappeared up the stairs, not without interestedly eyeing Zagreus in passing. The boys, just as curious as their teacher, were craning their necks to sneak a peek at the newest addition to their class as well, but Achilles kept the boy preventively shielded behind him. He knew none of them really meant it, but he could tell their presence was having a not-all-that-positive effect on Zagreus.

"Did you warm up properly or was all you did argue again?" he asked while quickly counting them in his head. Seven, that meant nobody was missing. With Zagreus, they'd be eight – a good even number for once. Although he was not so sure whether to let the boy join the actual exercise tonight already.

"We did," Automedon said proudly, chest puffed out as if it was some sort of achievement. Which it was, kind of. For them, at least. It wasn't often that they remembered their stretching exercises before diving head-first into a volley- or basket- or floorball match if Achilles didn't remind them each and every time.

"Good. I see you set up the volleyball net already, so why don't you guys go show our newest recruit here how we play? Surely you have played volleyball before, Zagreus?"

Nervously, the boy shook his head and pressed himself against the door behind him as if all he really wanted was to escape then and there. Achilles gave him an encouraging smile, although he did wonder which kid had never played even an amateur match of volleyball at school in all their life. Was that not part of any school's standard PE curriculum?

"You can join them if you'd like to get a feeling for it," he said, "or you can stay with me on the sidelines and just watch for tonight. Don't worry about not playing like a pro, the others will cover for you a little until you get the hang of it."

"Yeah, no worries!" Antilochus chimed in, eagerly hanging off of Automedon's shoulder. "Zagreus, that's your name? Can we call you Zag? We'll show you!"

That was the first, curious attempt at friendship they made, and Zagreus didn't seem all that anxious anymore as the group crowded around him now and enthusiastically rattled off their names and which classes they had and that he was very welcome to choose on which team he wanted to be and that he should just watch a bit first and then they were already carrying over a ball and demonstrating over- and underhand receives and serves.

Achilles observed quietly from the sidelines how Zagreus began to engage in their conversations more and more, even smiling tentatively when Automedon showed him how to hold his arms and corrected his posture before praising him for how quickly he'd picked up on it.

It didn't take long for them to start playing and soon, the gym was filled with the squeaking of rubber shoe soles, impacts of the ball on arms and the floor, yelling, laughter, playful bickering, and taunts between the teams of four boys each. They were acting like they'd known each other for years already, not just half an hour, and shouts of "Zag, get it!" and "That one's yours, Zag!" and "Good one, Zag!" were already seamlessly integrating into the usual arsenal of chatter among the students.

When Achilles turned back to the entrance of the gym where he'd left his clipboard and papers to take attendance, he noticed his jacket lying on the floor there. Of course, Zagreus had taken it off to play. Achilles picked it up with a smile. Something rustled slightly and slid to the ground – it must have been caught between the folds of the jacket. He bent down and grabbed the piece of paper to look at it. It was the one he'd seen Zagreus reading when they'd first met and also when he had gone to pick him up earlier.

An acceptance letter that confirmed he was now an official student here.

So that was what the boy had been holding onto so tightly all this time. Achilles looked up and over at the court where Zagreus' team was currently busy cheering his name for scoring the last point of the game.

Chapter Text

The others had already rushed off to get changed when Zagreus trotted over to Achilles, still a little breathless but visibly more at ease than he'd ever seen the boy before.

"So, how did you like your first class with us?" Achilles asked while he began to unwrap the volleyball net.

"It was amazing," Zagreus said quietly, playing with the hem of his shirt as he spoke. "I was wondering if you'll let me come again, sir?"

Surprised, Achilles turned to look at the boy properly. He couldn't help but feel a little perplexed. What kind of question was that?

"Lad, it's a voluntary class. I'd be more than happy to have you attend again. The others have nearly adopted you already and you're a natural at this. Looking better already, too, if you'll allow. Relaxed. Feels good to get some exercise?"

A deep blush started to dust Zagreus' cheeks and he averted his gaze. Achilles couldn't help but wonder what kind of life he'd led until now that made him so liable to think he had done anything wrong at the tiniest fragments of both criticism and praise alike.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've always been told I have too much energy."

He sounded like he would crawl into a hole and die if given the opportunity. A chronic overthinker, too much energy, constantly fidgeting, forgetful of necessities like a jacket— Achilles leaned his elbow against the net pole and scrutinized the boy top to bottom and back up again.

"You make it sound like it's the worst thing people could say to you. I'm sorry if I'm overstepping here, but have you ever seen someone about this? You know, a lot of the boys you were playing with tonight have an official diagnosis of ADHD. That's why I decided to hold this class – they don't have to concentrate on anything here, they can just get rid of all their energy. And I have the feeling you're not so different from them, lad."

Those gorgeous mismatched eyes cautiously studied his face in return as if to gauge whether he was being serious or not.

"What is ADHD?"

Just which rock had the kid been living under? Achilles realized he would need a far gentler approach to this case than he'd first believed.

"ADHD is a medical condition," he explained patiently. "It means someone's attention span is a little shorter than usual. They can't concentrate on certain tasks as well as other people and they have the feeling they cannot sit still. Even if they try really hard, they just cannot focus. It's hard for people like that, especially for boys your age who have to spend most of their time at school sitting still. But it's really not their fault, they can't help themselves. That's why I'm offering this class."

Zagreus stared at him quietly.

"He always said if I just tried, I could be normal." His voice was so choked up that Achilles had trouble understanding him at all. "He yelled at me so many times."

Something inside Achilles' chest clenched, like a painful, tight vice enveloping his lungs and heart and crushing them with agonizing patience.

"Lad, you are normal. A little excess energy doesn't turn you into some kind of freak," he said. The words came out strangely weak and stilted. "None of that's your fault, either. And whoever yelled at you for it doesn't even deserve you thinking about them for even a second."

Nodding, though staying absolutely quiet, Zagreus watched as he finished disassembling the equipment and locked up the gym. Whenever Achilles' gaze fell onto him, all he could think of was an abandoned puppy, lost and trembling and unsure what to do with himself, sticking close to the only person who had offered a few kind words to him. He swallowed around the soreness of his throat.

"How are you getting home?"

"I walked here," Zagreus muttered. "I can walk back."

"I've finished for the day. You're driving with me."

The boy flinched at the finality of his tone.

"I can't accept that, sir. It's alright, really, I can walk."

"In order: yes, you can, no it isn't, and no, you cannot. You've been sweating for an hour now. The way back takes nearly half an hour by foot and the weather forecast announced frost for tonight. You would end up in the hospital with pneumonia before you even got home," Achilles said firmly and urged him up the stairs.

The drive was rather quiet, which Achilles attributed to the state of content relaxation that had overcome Zagreus for the first time since they had known each other. He was curled up like a cat in the passenger seat, watching the streetlamps flit by outside the window in the dark. The heating was on and it was comfortably warm inside the car.

In his lap, the boy still held his acceptance letter.

"Did the secretary ask for it today or why did you bring it?" Achilles asked after a brief glance over to Zagreus before he turned back to the road. "I've never heard of a student having to show their acceptance letter."

A bit startled by the sudden interruption of his cozy drowsing, the boy looked up. First at him, then at the letter. Then, he returned to staring out the window again.

"I just… figured it would be better," he muttered. "I thought… I thought—"

He was obviously struggling to voice his thoughts, so Achilles didn't pry. He simply dropped the subject. Only when he parked the car in front of the complex and unbuckled his seat belt, Zagreus suddenly muttered, "I thought they would send me away."

"Who?"

Confused, Achilles turned in his seat to face the boy.

"The school."

"Why would they do that if you've been accepted?"

Zagreus didn't answer, didn't even look at him. He bit his lip. The light from the small ceiling lamp caught strangely in his eyes. Maybe it was their dissimilar color, maybe it was the sudden tears gathering in them. Before Achilles could act or say anything, the boy had bolted from the car and disappeared through the front door. For a moment, he pondered whether he should follow him, knock on his door to apologize, and ask if he could help somehow. Then, he slowly pulled the key from the ignition, got out, and locked the car behind him.

Patroclus was not home yet, but his shift at the hospital would end in about forty minutes, a brief glance at the clock in the hallway told him when he stepped into their apartment. Well, that left him with enough time to prepare dinner, at least.

Before he had even taken a pan out of the cupboard, the doorbell rang.

"I want to keep going to your class."

Zagreus' shoulders were still trembling with every sob, but he had composed himself enough to speak as he stood, head held high, in the doorway.

"I'd be more than happy to have you," Achilles said softly to not agitate the boy even more. "You can always come to me if you need someone to talk or help you with something, lad."

He didn't have to think about the offer, he meant it from the bottom of his heart. Ever since he'd finished his studies and taken up this job as PE teacher, Achilles had gotten to know many young people he liked, even bonded with on a friendly basis outside of class, but this boy – there was something about him, something quiet and hurt.

This boy was broken and Achilles was aching to mend him.

When Neoptolemus had been little, he'd had the same exact dull pain in his eyes each time Thetis had brought him over, and Achilles had tried to love him through the abuse he himself had experienced for all of his own childhood as well: her comparisons, her perfectionism, her rage at anything subpar or below her expectation. His son had refused all of his attempts to somehow fix what she broke – the hatred for his father she had instilled in him conquered all his desire and need for love.

Now, Neoptolemus despised Achilles and himself and the entire world for never living up to Thetis' standards and his life was pure misery, but that was the way he liked it. He had never known anything else.

Achilles would not let that happen to a boy who was at least starting to reach for the helping hand he extended towards him.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow and take you to school with me," he said. "Just be ready around half-past seven."

It was late already – two hours past the end of his shift – when Patroclus returned, and he was far too exhausted to do anything but weakly choke out that he hated work, eat three portions of stew, and then promptly pass out on the bed without even showering. With a tender smile, Achilles followed him into their room and began to unbutton Patroclus' shirt. Carefully, as not to disturb his husband more than necessary, he removed it and set it aside before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to the now exposed skin.

"You can still tell me about your day," Patroclus slurred into the pillow he was nuzzling. "Just don't expect me to contribute much to that conversation."

"That's alright. You only have to worry about resting up and letting me take care of you."

A soft, sleepy purr that Achilles had learned to interpret as "I love you" answered him. With practiced ease – honestly, this had become a too-frequent occurrence in their lives, Achilles really needed to have a word with the hospital director about shift work and that people needed some free time as well – he unwound the black leather belt from his husband's slacks and as soon as those were out of the way as well, he just draped the quilted blanket over Patroclus to let him rest.

"Sweet dreams, Philtatos. I think I adopted a kid today."

Well.

That had his husband sitting up straight like struck by lightning.

"What?"

Sheepish, Achilles sat back down on the edge of the bed.

"Remember that I told you about our new neighbor?"

Patroclus stared at him for a moment, then he rubbed his face with one hand and groaned before dropping back down and patting the empty space beside him. Obedient, Achilles shed his own clothes and crawled under the covers with him, relishing the warmth that had already spread throughout the whole bed.

"The boy across the hall?" Patroclus muttered and began to gently curl his fingers against Achilles' nape, just the way he knew his husband loved it.

"Mmm."

That could be either an expression of pure enjoyment or assent to the question. Patroclus apparently accepted it as both.

"His name was Zagreus, wasn't it?"

"He's my new student. Ever since I've known him, he hasn't been anything but sweet and polite, and the other kids already love him, but there's something about him," Achilles added quietly. "I think he needs someone, Pat."

Probably more out of habit than deliberate affection, a heavy arm slung itself around his waist and pulled him tightly against Patroclus' warm, firm body.

"And you think you're that someone," he concluded.

Achilles nodded hesitantly.

"When everything in my life was going wrong, I always had you. And… I hope you were well aware that you had me too, always. He reminds me so much of us. Pat, this boy is just as broken as we were. But we had each other, and I don't think he has anyone. You should have seen how he literally hid behind me earlier. I want to give him at least one person in his life he can trust with all his heart."

His lover's dark eyes rested thoughtfully on his face. Then, Patroclus reached up to cup his cheek and hold him in place while he leaned over and fitted their lips together in a warm kiss.

"I hope you know this right here is just one of the reasons why I fell in love with you," he rasped. "So you adopted the boy now. Hell, why not. I always wanted kids. But yours didn't want us."

Chuckling, they kissed again. And again. And suddenly, Patroclus' exhaustion seemed extinguished like a flame in the breeze.

"How lucky we are. Our son already has his own apartment, so we can be as loud as we want," Achilles muttered, breathless, as he was forced onto his back and crowded against the mattress.

"You couldn't be quiet if your life depended on it, and certainly not just because we had a child around."

It was more a growl than anything. Combined with the dark, hungry gleam of those eyes fixated on his pale flesh illuminated by the faint moonlight from the window – who could blame Achilles for moaning in response?

"Told you," Patroclus whispered and his hand carefully slid between his husband's legs, parting them for him.

The bedsheets had ended up in a tangled heap on the floor.

Chapter Text

The day almost started out with some broken bones.

Achilles had barely stepped out into the apartment hallway when he already tripped over a pair of worn and weathered sneakers. He only so managed to prevent a gaping head wound by holding onto the door handle behind him, effectively slamming the door shut with a thunderous bang (and probably waking all their still-sleeping neighbors in the process).

"Zagreus!"

The crashing and his shout had startled the boy who now scrambled to his feet, backing away. He had been curled up right there on the ground, knees tucked up against his chest, arms folded as a pillow for his head.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Zagreus blurted out, trembling all over. His shoulders hit the wall and from the way he pressed against it, it was almost miraculous that he hadn't morphed through the first few layers of it yet by sheer force of will.

"It's okay, it's okay" Achilles whispered, setting his bag down, slow and careful in his movements as he lifted his hands in a hopefully reassuring gesture. "I just— Did you sleep out here, lad?"

The mismatched set of eyes across from him flickered unsurely – first at him, then at the floor.

"I was scared I'd... I— I didn't want to keep you waiting, Achilles, sir."

His voice was grating, rough and heavy with fatigue.

Speechless, Achilles stood and looked at the boy. Had he really spent the entire night out here in the freezing hallway just because he didn't want to be late?

"You can't go to class like this," he concluded and reached down for the belt of his bag. "Zagreus, you need to sleep. In this condition, you risk passing out during one of your lessons. It would be totally irresponsible to even let you outside in your current state."

"I can still go!" Zagreus protested immediately, blanching at the thought of staying home. "I'm fine, I promise, sir, please!"

Troubled, Achilles stared at him for a moment. He couldn't possibly take the boy to school when he looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion any second now, but could he really just tell him to stay home? What kind of right did he have to do that?

"Please," Zagreus muttered, lowering his head. "I know you're mad, but please. Let me come to class."

"I'm not mad, I am worried, lad," Achilles said softly and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. "I mean… You have to know your own limits, but I'm just saying – you don't look too well."

Which was probably so much of an understatement that it would sound ridiculous to any bystander, but he couldn't really tell Zagreus to his face that he looked like he was at death's door, pale and shaking, bone-white fingers clutching his backpack to his chest. Only now, he noticed that the boy wasn't wearing a jacket. Yet again.

"Honestly, do you want to catch a cold?" he couldn't help but ask, this time more resigned than anything. "Please, at least go put on a coat or something before we leave."

Zagreus kept firmly standing where he was.

"Well?" Achilles urged.

"I don't…"

He broke off, embarrassed. Raised one hand and brushed his hair back.

Oh.

Finally, it sunk in. Achilles opened his mouth, closed it again, then simply held one hand up in a silent gesture for Zagreus to wait. Fumbling to unlock the door behind him, he stepped back into the hallway of their apartment.

"Forgot something again?"

Patroclus' voice came from the bedroom. He was probably getting dressed right now, ready to leave for his shift in a few minutes. How he managed to leave later and still be on time for work, Achilles would never quite comprehend.

"You could call it that," he muttered, thrusting the door to Neoptolemus' room open.

Usually, this was sacred ground and Achilles public enemy number one, banned from the premises at all times, but he figured his son would forgive him just this once. Or he would not. In which case, Achilles just couldn't be bothered to care right now. He went straight for the wardrobe and slid the door of it to the side, revealing a vast palette of black, black, and black clothes.

Well, as long as they did the job, Achilles refused to complain about the lack of color variety in his son's closet.

He grabbed a jacket from its hanger, the one with the warm lining and faux fur trim. That last part, as far as Achilles knew, was a bit debatable. Could have been real fur. Thetis loved to spoil her little prince when in good humor, and Neoptolemus had developed a rather costly taste in clothes under her tutelage.

"See you tonight, love!" he called into the master bedroom before rushing to the front door again.

"Take care!" Patroclus responded with a slight laugh and Achilles blew him a kiss as he stepped back outside and pulled the door shut behind himself.

"Here we go, lad. It might be a little big on you, but I don't think it will be all that uncomfortable."

He held out the jacket invitingly. Zagreus stared at it for a moment before stepping back, away from him.

"Sir, I couldn't possibly accept something like that."

"You can. And you will. Otherwise, I'm not taking you to school," Achilles threatened, praying he would not have to make good on that. The boy was as careless as to walk the entire way to campus again on foot, without a jacket.

For a moment, they stood there in the hallway, gazes clashing.

Then, Zagreus reached to take the jacket.

Achilles watched with a warm, prickling sensation of contentment spreading through his belly. A shuddering sigh of pure relief left the boy when the soft fur lining wrapped around him and only gradually, his eyes opened again.

"Let's go," Achilles said softly, not even allowing the 'Thank you' he saw lingering on Zagreus' tongue to touch his lips. "Class is about to start."

The first few lessons of the day dragged on and on. When Achilles finally managed to herd the last of his pre-break group out of the gym, he was not at all surprised to find he would be late for lunch. There was still a bunch of equipment to be put away before he locked up the gym and he still had to go over some grades in his office next door, too…

Sighing, he began to put the colored bands away they had used to form teams in the earlier lesson and just as he'd turned to gather the stray basketballs from the various corners of the gym, he found two of them already being handed to him.

Zagreus obstinately avoided his gaze.

"Sir."

"And what are you doing down here?" Achilles asked as he took the balls and tossed them into the corresponding box. "You should be having lunch right now."

"I would rather stay. For as long as you can stand me, of course, Achilles, sir. I wouldn't want to keep you from your break."

The boy managed to be so polite about it that Achilles already felt bad again for asking. Of course it must've sounded like he didn't want Zagreus here with him. His hand clenched tightly around the cool metal bars of the box before he turned with the most tender smile he could muster, inwardly cursing himself for being so careless with his words. In his defense, he had never had a student who unconsciously needed so much emotional bubble wrap.

All the more reasons to try harder.

"You're not keeping me from anything. Although I'm afraid I might not make it upstairs to get something to eat today. I have some paperwork left that needs to be taken care of, so if you're hungry, you best go grab a bite before your next class starts, lad."

Zagreus shook his head vehemently.

"I want to stay here."

And again, just like a young dog, he trailed after his teacher step for step, quietly. He seemed to have officially elected the gym as a safe space, so when Achilles at last showed him to the office, he didn't hesitate to slink inside right away. Some of his usual tension seemed to ease within him when he was around here, Achilles noticed happily.

While he sat down by his desk and pulled the drawer open to get his files, Zagreus paced along the wall, marveling at the pictures on the pinboard and the framed photographs that adorned the white plaster, the medals, certificates, and the trophies carefully lined up on the shelf. Most of the snapshots had been taken by Achilles himself – of students, school events, competitions he'd accompanied them to.

Then, there were those from his own college time, the ones Patroclus had made. It was more than evident that he had a favorite subject, and even more evident that said subject was Achilles. All the candids and official pictures – they all had one sole centerpiece.

"You won a lot of prizes," Zagreus muttered, awestruck.

His fingers hovered over one particular photography. It was the silver-framed one, showing him mid-run far ahead of the field behind him. The one Patroclus had given him for winning his first cross-country race that lasted over five hours. It had been a joined effort, really, Achilles insisted each time someone brought it up – without Patroclus waiting at every checkpoint to personally hand him his water bottle and cheer him on, he would have given up halfway, he was certain.

"I love running, always have. I made the track team in middle school and stuck to it. Running always seemed like the most natural thing to me. Don't even go asking my husband how much I fell on his nerves when we were going somewhere together and I would constantly tell him to hurry up already while he just wanted to enjoy a nice walk," Achilles said, smiling at the memories.

He threw the boy a brief glance, but he just kept standing there, staring at the pictures.

"I jog on Sunday mornings," Achilles added casually. "If you want to, I'll take you along."

There were no windows down here to let in any kind of sunshine, but Zagreus' face lit up so brightly that Achilles might have let himself be fooled.

By the time Achilles had finished distributing grades and logging them into the school's online register, Zagreus had curled up in a corner with one of the books from the shelf. At first, only glancing at him from time to time, Achilles had not realized it, but now, as he stood up, stretched, and turned to tell the boy to hurry or he would miss his next lecture, he saw the way Zagreus' hands had slackened around the book cover and how he had nestled into the fur collar of his new jacket.

He was fast asleep.

No wonder – one only had to look at the dark circles beneath his eyes to tell he was dead tired. Still, the position couldn't possibly be comfortable. He would wake up sore all over at this point, Achilles predicted. As much as he hated it and as much as he wanted the poor thing to catch up on some dearly-needed rest, he couldn't leave him sleeping like that.

"Lad," he whispered softly, crouching down before Zagreus and rubbing his arm through the thick fabric of the jacket. "Hey, lad."

The first eye to open was the green one, soft and hazed with sleep. Then, the red one followed, glistening sharply in contrast. Only gradually, they both zeroed in on Achilles' face.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, lad," Achilles muttered and smiled. "I told you sooner or later you would pass out. Glad it was here with me, at least. Sorry to wake you up, but this isn't really a healthy position to take a nap in. Why don't you go home for the day and rest up so you'll be feeling better tomorrow instead?"

Yawning, Zagreus brought one hand up to rub his face.

"I don't want to go home, " he rasped, speech still slurred, tongue thick and heavy in his mouth. " Can I stay here with you? Please?"

Achilles watched, helpless, as the boy nearly dozed off again in that exact same second.

"I have class in a few minutes, lad. And you will have problems following your curriculums if you don't go to your lectures," he tried one last time. "If you don't want to go home, I'll see you tonight at five, yes? You can come downstairs as soon as your last class lets out. I'll be waiting for you, I promise."

Although unwillingly, Zagreus finally let himself be convinced that it would be best not to miss out on too many classes. He trudged off, not without a heartbreakingly lost glance back, efficiently making Achilles question his decision to send him to his next lecture.

The boy clearly needed sleep above all sorts of education, so why hadn't he just let him stay and rest for as long as he wanted to? If he really was this tired, he would just conk out again as soon as he sat down in the lecture hall.

With thoughts like those haunting him throughout all of his afternoon classes, Achilles watched the clock handles even closer than he usually did, willing them forward to show five o'clock. At quarter to five, he made a quick trip up to the front office to retrieve the clothes he'd ordered after enrolling Zagreus in his evening class. Just as he rushed back down the stairs, taking them three at a time to arrive before the boys could wreak havoc in the gym upon finding him absent, he nearly crashed into someone.

A very specific, very distraught someone.

With fitful breaths and heaving chest, Zagreus was pressed up against the doors to the gym. His arms were wrapped tightly around his upper body and he was shaking as if someone had plugged him into the mains and put him under dangerously high voltage.

Just at that moment, the doors to the upstairs locker rooms opened to release a stream of playful howls and shouts into the otherwise quiet halls and the only coherent thought Achilles' head would provide him with was 'Fuck'.

Dropping the bag he was holding to the floor, he leapt back up to the first landing of the stairs and just so managed to stop the approaching pack there. Taken aback, they slithered to a halt and stared at him.

"Quiet. All of you. Downstairs, into the gym. Busy yourselves somehow. And by the Gods, if I hear one of you yell—" Achilles hissed, leaving the threat up in the air.

The boys, befuddled and intimidated by his unusual severity, carefully padded down the rest of the steps and, in absolute silence, retreated into the gym hall. With them safely out of the way, Achilles returned to Zagreus. The boy had turned ashen grey with a feverish redness layered over it all and his hair stuck to his forehead, matted and damp.

"Hey, lad. Can you still hear me?" Achilles muttered, already reaching for the phone in his pocket and only then remembering that they were three stories below ground.

For a second, he wavered, debating whether he should send the boys back upstairs and make them call an ambulance, but his voice seemed to have been enough to release something within Zagreus. The boy sobbed, crumbling against the wall. Achilles knelt down before him.

"Shh, it's alright now. You're alright, everything's alright. I'm here with you. Nothing's going to happen, you're safe here with me. I'm here, Zagreus."

He tried to keep his voice as soothing as possible, relieved to see it seemed to help ease the tension in Zagreus' shoulders at least a little bit. Finally, his jaw unclenched as well and at long last, his hands eased their iron grip on the fabric of his jacket.

"You're doing so good, lad," Achilles whispered softly and sat a little closer to him. "I'm here, alright? I won't let anything happen to you. Can you speak to me, Zagreus? Or can you nod if you hear me?"

The boy nodded jerkily.

"Okay, Zagreus. That's good. If you think you can, will you count with me? I'll just say one number, and you say the next. Then I'll say one again, and then you. Okay?"

Another nod, this time a little slower.

"Perfect. Just count with me. One," Achilles muttered, moving closer.

"Two."

Zagreus' voice was raw like someone had chafed his throat with sandpaper and he sucked in a strangled breath, but his shaking had calmed.

"You're doing so, so good, Zagreus. Three."

"Four."

Achilles rested one hand on the floor between them.

"Breathe calmly for me, lad. You're doing wonderfully. Five."

Bit by bit, the boy let himself be soothed. When they had counted up to twenty-two, his sobs had ceased and his trembling had stilled. Even then, they kept on sitting there just by each other's side. Zagreus had curled up tightly again, but he was no longer in his previous catatonic state of panic.

"You were gone when I came down," he said quietly. "I thought you were gone."

Chapter Text

Achilles stared back at him.

"Gone for five minutes at most," he said weakly. "I was— Gods, lad, I'm so sorry. I should have waited for you."

He had promised Zagreus he'd be there when he arrived from his last lesson. It was his fault.

The boy shuffled, wiping his flushed face. His throat constricted as he swallowed and Achilles blindly reached for the bottle of water in his bag. Unscrewing the lid, he handed it to Zagreus and watched him down most of the content while a glistening silver trickle ran down his chin and soaked into the collar of his shirt.

When the silence became too loud, Achilles sat back.

"Have you ever had a panic attack like this before?" he asked gently.

Zagreus turned the bottle in his hand.

"A panic attack?" he muttered, still a little dazed.

Nodding, Achilles said, "Yes. That was a panic attack if I've ever seen one. You've never had one before?"

Zagreus shook his head wordlessly. Another rush of tenderness overwhelmed Achilles and he had to bite back the urge to just cradle the boy to his chest and hold him close until he felt better.

"How do you know?" Zagreus asked, for the first time raising his gaze. He was looking a little more stable already.

"My husband is a medic; you pick up on some things along the way. Besides, he had his fair share of panic attacks when we were younger as well," Achilles said softly. "Do you think you can get up, lad? I'll take you home."

Nodding faintly, Zagreus fought himself up to his feet and although his knees threatened to give out again, he managed to stay upright while Achilles left to call the rest of the class over.

Of course the boys protested when he tried to send them away.

They'd been excited to get some exercise and they didn't want to go home yet, they argued, but as soon as they laid eyes on Zagreus, pale and exhausted, still holding onto the wall to keep himself standing, they ceased their complaints and quietly slinked back upstairs to change.

Achilles rushed through putting away the equipment, but even then, Zagreus already followed in search of him, not able to stand being away from him for even as long as it took to lock up. When Achilles tried to soothe him and send him back to the office to sit down until they were ready to leave, Zagreus grasped the hem of his jacket and refused to let go, eyes stubbornly glued to the ground. He followed Achilles everywhere like a little shadow, never more than two steps behind him.

And always, always holding onto him.

He could not even argue that it wasn't more than absolutely and utterly endearing. Even when they finally managed to get upstairs and into the car, the first thing Zagreus did was latch onto Achilles' jacket again. And he still refused to look him in the eye while he did.

"I'm really sorry for this," Achilles muttered while shifting gears and pulling out of the parking lot. "I should have waited for you. It's my fault."

For a while, there was silence. Then, Zagreus closed his eyes and sank even deeper into the cushioning of the passenger seat.

"I'm just being stupid," he whispered.

"It's not— You're not being stupid. It's my fault, and I'm sorry for it. I promised you I'd be there and then I wasn't, Zagreus, I'm so sorry. I want— I want to be there for you."

Achilles' voice faltered. He hadn't meant to make it sound so meaningful, but across from him, Zagreus' grip on his jacket only tightened in response.

"You're probably going to get a headache in a bit, so you best lay down," Achilles muttered as he waited for Zagreus to unlock the door to his apartment.

The boy only made a quiet, noncommittal noise while he stepped into his flat. His hand lingered on the door handle and he turned to look at Achilles, unsure.

"Do you want me to come inside with you?"

Zagreus couldn't have been faster to nod and Achilles could not have been faster to comply. Without ever making the boy let go of his jacket, he too moved into the narrow hallway that stretched out before them. The walls felt strangely cold, uncomfortably so, he realized while Zagreus led him down into what appeared to be the bedroom.

It was barren except for the bed in one corner.

The blankets on it were still a mess, the pillow still bunched up against the wall – evidence that someone had actually slept there yet had forgotten or disregarded the mere thought of fixing the linens before leaving. Zagreus gradually let go of the hem of Achilles' jacket and stepped over to let himself sink down on the edge of the mattress.

"Will you stay?"

"For as long as you want me to," Achilles promised.

As if soothed by that, the boy kicked off his sneakers and crawled into bed like a child long overdue for a nap. Achilles sat beside him and gently arranged the thin sheets about him before he stripped his own jacket and draped it over Zagreus for additional warmth. Then, he leaned his shoulder and head against the wall behind the headboard and crossed his arms before his chest. Zagreus carefully reached out and grasped the hem of Achilles' shirt.

As soon as the man shifted ever so slightly, his arm jerked back.

"Shh, it's alright, lad," Achilles whispered and moved closer to him again. "Hold onto me however much you like. I'm here. Right beside you. I'm here, Zagreus. I'm here."

A violent sob shook the boy once again, but it was dry and filled with sweet relief. When Achilles cautiously ran one hand over Zagreus' hair to feel the soft spikes of it against his fingers, his little charge had already drifted off.

When had Neoptolemus last slept so calmly in his presence? Achilles couldn't quite remember. When he had still been a child, probably. Yes, that must be it. The night four days after his twelfth birthday.

Neoptolemus had been brought over by Thetis for the one weekend a month he was to spend with his father, and they'd had a rather tense afternoon coffee around the kitchen table for the boy's sake. Achilles had seen the little sketches Neoptolemus liked to draw into his school books, the way he lit up in secret under the pretense of bragging when he told Achilles about yet a new pricey painting Thetis had bought for their apartment uptown. That year, Patroclus and Achilles had spent a small fortune on an art kit and two canvases. He still remembered how his son had stared at his present after unwrapping it, awestruck, but then he had glanced over at Thetis and she had gotten up, swept her black coat around her that she had never taken off, and told them to not soften the boy with things like that.

Then, she had leaned over, kissed Neoptolemus' forehead, and told him she would be back on Sunday evening. As if on cue, the boy had started to throw a temper about how stupid all the presents were he'd ever gotten from Achilles, and had locked himself up in his room for the remainder of the day.

In the evening, Patroclus had broken out a bottle of fancy wine they'd originally planned to keep stashed for their anniversary. They'd drowned their disappointment in that, watching as many crime thriller movies back to back as Achilles wanted and Patroclus could stand.

Long past midnight, the door to the living room had suddenly opened.

Very much under the influence of both wine and movies where people regularly got strangulated in the comfort of their own home, the two of them had understandably threatened any intruder that they would not hesitate to waste the last of their wine plus the bottle on said intruder's head.

Luckily for all of them, it had only been Neoptolemus who'd crawled onto the couch with them, tucking himself in between them, and resting his head on Achilles' chest.

"I love painting. Thank you, Father," he had whispered, and fallen asleep right then and there.

That had been the first and last time he had called Achilles 'father' ever since kindergarten.

Barely an hour had passed when Achilles already felt Zagreus stir beside him. He slowly eased himself out of the slightly uncomfortable position he'd been in until now and watched as the boy slowly came to again. At first, he'd thought about getting up and fetching a glass of water and some light painkillers in case Zagreus struggled with the same splitting headaches Patroclus had always gotten after Achilles had managed to calm down from a panic attack, but then he remembered he had assured Zagreus he would stay and decided to not break two promises in one day.

"It's okay to sleep a bit longer, lad. You must be tired," he muttered lovingly instead and adjusted the pillow.

Zagreus sat up, rubbing his face to rid himself of the drowsiness that still clung to him. The bedsheets pooled around his hips and only now, Achilles realized the boy was drenched in cold sweat.

"I'm sorry," he groaned, mortified. "I must have been acting like a kid. I'm so sorry you had to cancel your entire class and sit here all this time, sir, I'm so sorry, how can I make it up—"

Achilles leaned down to kiss his forehead and Zagreus froze like he had just struck him. Then, a rough jerk ran throughout his entire body and he drew in a breath that shook in his throat like a sob.

"Don't you apologize, lad. Don't you dare. You have nothing to be sorry for, hear me? Never, for nothing. You needed someone today and I'm glad you trusted me enough to let me be that someone," Achilles whispered, tentatively stroking the boy's hair when he realized Zagreus was pressing closer and closer to him with a faint moan to drink his touch in. "Is this alright, love? Am I touching you too much?"

"Gods— sir…"

The poor thing was shaking like a leaf, close to hysterics at just that bit of tenderness.

"Shh, okay. I understand. Come here."

With careful little motions, Achilles arranged them properly on the bed so Zagreus was resting between his legs, leaning against his chest, and he could lightly touch his lips to the boy's hair, rocking him gently back and forth as he stroked down his arm and back. Trembling, Zagreus lay completely still, eyes wide as if he feared if he moved even ever so slightly, Achilles would draw back and leave.

It never happened.

The loving caresses continued until he was comfortably drowsing in Achilles' arms, helpless at the mercy of his overstimulated, burning nerves. His shivering refused to cease and at times, his breaths turned so erratic and shallow that Achilles had to hold him tightly for a few minutes until he calmed again.

There were no questions about it, just silent compliance whenever he pressed closer.

Outside, the impending dark draped itself over the city like a black veil of satin, and bit by bit, Achilles felt himself drifting off as well, dozing with the warm, soothing weight of Zagreus on top of him.

At least until his phone rang, startling them both wide awake.

Fumbling for a moment to get it out of his pocket, Achilles finally managed to grab hold of it. When he saw that it was well after ten already, he didn't even need to take a look at the caller ID.

"Where are you, Achilles?"

Patroclus' voice was brimming with distress.

"Calm down, love, I'm okay," Achilles said softly, sitting up to pull Zagreus back against his chest, watching with a concerned furrow of his brows when the boy pressed tightly against his shoulder to stifle a whimper at the renewed contact. "I'll be back soon, I promise."

Audibly relieved, Patroclus sighed.

"I was so worried! How come you're not home? It's almost eleven, usually you're the one having to wait up on me."

"Class took a turn I wasn't expecting tonight."

"… are you at the hospital? I thought I told them to alert me if you showed up there with a student again."

At that, Achilles could not help but give a soft laugh.

"No. No accidents today. Something else," he said.

'Something' seemed to ring a bell for Patroclus. Maybe it was Achilles' tone of voice, maybe he had heard Zagreus' low noise of pleasure when two fingertips traced his spine down to the slight hollow of his back, drawing circles on his prickling skin to soothe him.

"Are you with Zagreus?" Patroclus asked quietly.

"Yes. I'll see to getting home, love," Achilles answered and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on Zagreus' head. "Don't stay up if you're tired, okay? In case you're asleep when I get back, I'll just see you tomorrow morning. And… Pat? I love you. I love you so much."

He could almost see his husband's face mellowing at those words. Although Patroclus had often assured that he didn't appreciate sentimentalities, he just melted at every little declaration of love.

"I love you too, Achilles. If you two need anything, I'll just be across the hall."

"Thank you," Achilles whispered before he carefully lowered the phone back down.

He really did not deserve this absolutely wonderful husband of his.

"Do you have to leave now?" Zagreus muttered against his shoulder.

"No, love. Not yet. I'll stay here for as long as you'd like."

Zagreus gave a soft little hum in response as he was held even closer. He shuddered with pleasure.

"How long has it been since someone properly touched you?" Achilles asked and stroked Zagreus' back again and again until the boy was moaning in pure bliss.

"I don't know," Zagreus panted weakly. "Achilles, please—"

"Too long, I know. But I'm here, love. Just hold onto me."

It was way after midnight when Zagreus finally slept. Not the fitful, light sleep from before, but deep, restful sleep. Achilles found himself tenderly watching the boy's face relax.

"Goodnight, love. Sweet dreams," he whispered.

Chapter Text

Patroclus stirred when Achilles gently moved the bedsheets to slip beneath them and join his husband. The alarm clock on the nightstand flashed two thirty-seven in the morning in bright green neon lights.

"Is he sleeping?" he asked, coiling his arms around Achilles, and pulling him in.

"He is. At least for a while," Achilles whispered back and fit himself against the warm outlines of Patroclus' body.

Their legs tangled and beneath the blankets, their hands found one another. Achilles gently nosed along the line of his husband's jaw, resting his lips against the swell of his throat. The sheets rustled around them when they were pushed out of the way so Patroclus could turn onto his side and coil himself tightly around Achilles, leaving no space whatsoever between them.

"He's the sweetest kid I've ever met."

"Must be if you prioritize him over your bed."

There was mockery in Patroclus' voice, but it was sleepy and soft and loving and Achilles would have been stupid to take offense.

"I did sleep while I was with him as well, don't let yourself be fooled. But I woke up not long ago and he seemed to be out cold, so I left."

Patroclus hummed and nuzzled his hair even more, peppering it with soft kisses. He had always had an inexplicable fascination with Achilles' hair ever since they had both been little, and in turn, Achilles had developed a rather Pavlovian response to having it stroked or played with. Each time his husband gently pulled his hair into a ponytail for him or tucked a few stray strands behind his ear that had slipped from whatever updo he managed on a rainy Sunday morning spent in the comfort of their cozy apartment together, Achilles would turn into a purring mess vibrating with expectant excitement.

At times, he had to catch Patroclus' wrist when he was about to touch his hair in public or before one of his cross-country events to spare himself a few hours spent feeling hot and bothered when all he really wanted was for Patroclus to take him home and have him however he pleased, however many times he pleased.

"I should have guessed," Patroclus muttered, faintly amused. "What even prompted Zagreus to bring you over into his apartment today?"

"He—"

Achilles ceased and tried to gather the right words to speak of it. Maybe he should ask the boy first whether it was alright to talk to Patroclus about what had happened, but then again – his husband would be the last person to judge.

"He came to me during lunch break," he began anew. "We talked a little about class and about the pictures in my office. You know. The ones you took of me when I was still on the track team in university. Well, I promised him I'd be waiting for him when he got downstairs for his class in the evening. The front office called to tell me to pick something up and I was gone for like five minutes, but when I came back to the gym, he was already there. Having… having a panic attack because he thought I had forgotten about him."

There was only silence answering him, so he continued, drawing nonsensical patterns onto Patroclus' bare chest, watching the dark skin of it glisten in the faint light from outside their window.

"I tried to calm him down as best I could, but he refused to let go of my jacket the entire time, so I took him home. He tried to sleep a little but woke up half an hour later again. Gods, Pat… I just stroked his hair and he was nearly crying. Can someone be that touch-starved?"

His husband, basking in the loving attention, only hummed in response before he reached to grasp Achilles' hand with his own. He brought it up to his lips and placed a feathery kiss upon each fingertip before moving to lean over Achilles and cup his cheek.

"It can happen. If he went a really long time without any physical or even emotional contact. What did you do?"

"I held him," Achilles whispered, looking up into the velvety dark eyes that inquiringly studied his face. "I just held him the entire time I was with him. Told him it was okay. Was that right?"

For a moment, Patroclus seemed to consider, as if he had to think about it first, but then, his lips curved into the gentlest smile.

"You couldn't have done better, love."

Achilles didn't know for how long they'd been awake, but the first light of dawn had already swept over the faraway mountain tops in a palette of red, pink, and orange when Patroclus finally enclosed him in his arms and they drifted off to sleep together, exhausted from talking and kissing and more talking yet, so when their alarm clocks went off not much later, for the first time in a while, it was Patroclus who pulled the blankets higher and coiled himself around Achilles to keep him in bed for just a bit longer.

"That's new," Achilles mumbled, yawning, then stretching to at least ease his husband's grip on him. "You trying to stop me from getting up?"

"Special circumstances," Patroclus slurred somewhere behind him and pressed his lips to Achilles' nape.

The tips of his hair tickled the sensitive skin there until Achilles arched away with a squeak and giggle, which only made Patroclus laugh deeply in return and hold him even tighter. He rolled them over, tangling them in the blankets until they were playfighting like children for the upper hand, laughing, hitting each other with every pillow that happened to be in reach.

At last, breathless, they ended up half on the floor, half on the bed, foreheads pressed together so tightly their noses were touching. Eyes closed, they just sat there, holding onto the other.

"Hey," Achilles rasped, sweeping his thumb over Patroclus' face.

"Hey," his husband whispered, kissing the corner of his lips very gently.

For a moment, they held their breath, then they burst into laughter again and Achilles threw his arms around Patroclus' shoulders with such vigor that he knocked them down onto the rug before the bed completely.

"We really should be getting up and ready for work. I think if I open our front door, I'll find someone waiting," Achilles said at last and slowly moved to stand.

With a yawn that showed off the crimson depths of his throat, Patroclus followed and slinked over into the bathroom. It always surprised Achilles anew how a man of his size could move so quietly and gracefully – especially one who'd been the epitome of clumsy during all of his childhood, shattering trinkets, plates, and glasses left and right wherever he went.

As he watched the beautiful arch of Patroclus' back shimmer in the first morning sun that fell through the bathroom window and covered the mirror in a myriad of golden speckles, Achilles couldn't help but think that however abusive Menoetius had been towards Patroclus and however much he wanted to keep the man away from his husband, it would be so satisfying to shove into his face what a gorgeous, wonderful person the boy he'd kicked out had become now.

"Mm… what's wrong, love?" Patroclus hummed when he felt Achilles' arms snaking themselves around his waist to hold on tightly. "Clingy today?"

"A bit," was the meek response. "You have the weekend off?"

"I do, in fact. The next, too. I'm all yours for two days once you finish work on Friday evening, needy little thing."

Giving him a counterfeit pout, Achilles tucked his face in between Patroclus' shoulder blades and stayed right there while his husband finished brushing his teeth and trimming his beard back into shape. The sun was warm on their bare skin and even now, standing upright, Achilles found himself nodding off from time to time.

"Achilles?" Patroclus finally called softly and nudged him with his elbow. "Are you falling asleep on me? Literally?"

"Why do you have to be so chipper in the morning? Can't you just be grumpy like the rest of us?" Achilles whined, knocking his head against his husband's spine. "Of all the people in the world, I just happened to marry the one man who loves to make me feel even more miserable right after waking up."

Patroclus' reflection raised an eyebrow at him.

"Is that so? How do I make you feel miserable, then?"

"You… ugh, I don't know. You're so productive, you get everything done in time, and you look so damn handsome while doing basically anything while I'm stuck here moping 'til I had at least two cups of coffee and having to put in ten times your effort to just make the cut for normal human being, not Frankenstein's monster having just risen from the grave."

He couldn't help himself – Patroclus just had to laugh at that very visual exemplification. When he turned, he found Achilles blinking sleepily. He cupped his face with both hands to kiss a smile as bright as the sun outside onto his husband's lips before pulling back and running one hand through Achilles' tangled hair.

"To me, you're gorgeous. Always. No matter the time of day or state of yours," Patroclus muttered. "Promise me to remember that?"

"Promise," Achilles mumbled and craned his neck with a hearty yawn. "Which reminds me, I promised Zagreus to take him to school with me today, so let me get ready or the poor thing will think I forgot about him again."

"Is it okay if you walk to class from the parking lot by the front office? We have to pick something up before your first lecture."

Achilles had not taken his eyes off the road before him while talking, yet he noticed the curious glance Zagreus threw him nevertheless.

"Pick what up?"

With a secretive smile, Achilles pulled into the driveway that led up to the school campus.

"Now if I told you, it wouldn't be a really nice surprise, would it? I wanted to give it to you yesterday evening before class, but seen as our plans got a little thwarted," – at that, Zagreus immediately shrank back into his seat – "we'll just pick up where we left off today. It's okay if you're still not over what happened, but I'll tell you time and time again that it wasn't your fault, it was mine, and you have nothing to feel sorry or ashamed for, alright, lad?"

He waited for a tentative nod from beside him before he pulled the hand brake and turned to smile at Zagreus.

"Thank you for being so nice about this, Achilles, sir," the boy muttered and unbuckled his seatbelt, never once meeting Achilles' eyes as had turned out to be a little habit of his.

"Again, nothing to thank me for. Now come on, let's get going. I hope I ordered the right sizes and all, but if I do say so myself, I have a knack for that sort of thing."

They left the car and Achilles locked it with a swift flourish of the keys across his shoulder. Zagreus hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder and together, they entered the front office. The warm air that enveloped them inside was a stark contrast to the cold outside where their breath had fogged up into fantastic shapes before dissolving in the frigid winter air, and Achilles was once again glad that he'd nicked one of Neoptolemus' jackets for Zagreus. With the temperatures dropping below zero every night by now, the boy would have ended up coughing his lungs out from a severe case of pneumonia sooner or later.

"Ah, how good to see you, Achilles," the secretary chirped as soon as they stepped up to her desk. She reached beneath the tabletop to bring something out from there. "I was really worried when the janitor brought this back yesterday evening! He said you left it downstairs in the gym with nobody in sight."

Achilles stepped over to take the bag and smiled at the young woman. He really didn't need her to get into this, already he could feel Zagreus flinching at the mention of last night.

"Thank you for holding onto it. We had a bit of a situation that I needed to take care of and I completely forgot about the clothes by the time we left. Have a good day!"

With that, he turned and gently led Zagreus back outside. The boy glanced at the bag in his hand, obviously curious, and Achilles gave him another smile while the door to the front office fell shut behind them. Quiet coldness filled the campus at this hour of morning. Only here and there, students wandered the school grounds, clutching their coffee cups and fiddling with their scarves.

"Don't you think you've kept your little surprise for long enough now?" Zagreus groused playfully as they were walking towards the main building.

"I think I have, yes," Achilles hummed as they entered through the glass doors.

They would part ways now so Zagreus could get to his first lecture of the day while Achilles went to clock in and meet his morning class downstairs in the gymnasium hall. Before he departed for the teacher's lounge, he handed the bag over that he'd been holding onto until now.

"Here," he said. "This is for you, lad."

Unable to restrain his curiosity any longer, Zagreus pulled the clothes out. Brand-new shoes, shorts, a jacket, and a jersey, all emblazoned with a rising phoenix spreading its mighty wings. On the back of the shirt, Zagreus found his name printed in bold, golden letters, and across the left side of his chest "The Myrmidons". When he had first started his afternoon class – which was also the team they took to most school sports events – Achilles had asked them whether they'd like personalized uniforms, and this was what the students back then had chosen after he'd told them about the ancient warriors from his homeland.

"Achilles, sir—" he stuttered, helpless.

"You belong to us now," Achilles said softly. "I hope you want to, as well. Of course my class is no obligation, but the team and I would be more than happy to have you attend."

Chapter Text

Even though he loved his job, Achilles couldn't be happier when Saturday rolled around at last. Patroclus had the weekend off as well, as promised, and indulged him in a lazy morning in bed, first only cuddling, then talking, then making out lazily in the cool winter sun that poured in through the window across the room.

"Do we have anywhere to be today?" Achilles muttered at last when he was resting his head on Patroclus' chest, basking in the soft rise and fall of it.

"Not me," his husband responded sleepily and moved to kiss his forehead in response. "I have all day to satisfy your apparent need to be touching me at all times, no exceptions made. You?"

His answer came in form of arms and legs wrapped even tighter around him. The whole rest of their morning trickled by in comfortable idleness until Patroclus finally managed to chase his husband out of bed and into the bathroom to clean up before they got dressed and went about preparing lunch together. Well, it was Patroclus for the most part who prepared lunch – Achilles' share mostly consisted of inhibiting him from moving freely about the kitchen by clinging to his waist and complaining whenever Patroclus attempted to pry him off.

"Who's touch-starved here, I wonder?" Patroclus grumbled at last when Achilles kept huffing against his shoulder blades for attention. "Go sit down if you don't want to help. At this rate, I'll take hours to finish."

"We have all day," Achilles quipped back and tightened his grip with an insolent little smile his husband fortunately had no way of seeing.

Despite himself, Patroclus couldn't help but chuckle fondly.

"I missed you too, love," he muttered and reached down to cup Achilles' hands that were folded over his stomach. "Sorry for working so much lately. I'll try my best to get home at the end of my shift from now on."

There was a brief silence behind him, then Achilles gave a thoughtful little hum. It still sounded slightly miffed.

"You do work a lot lately."

"Well, people don't just stop getting hurt or sick at a certain hour of the day. We can't turn them away just like you send your students home after class," Patroclus replied gently and turned around without dislodging his husband's arms. "Forgive me?"

For a moment, Achilles studied his face, then he groaned and fell forward to press his forehead tightly against Patroclus' chest.

If Achilles was the touchy and clingy one in the morning, then Patroclus was the hypocrite between them. As soon as the sun started setting and dousing their apartment in the faint glow of dusk, it was him who could not take his hands off of Achilles for more than a few minutes at a time. Whether he was just holding him while they were both reading on the couch, or stroking his hair while Achilles napped, or dragging him into the shower – he always had to be at least close to his husband.

"Can't we say we're going to be out of town next weekend?" he grumbled while Achilles turned a page of his book. "I honestly don't know whether I can work up the nerve to endure another two days of Neo's bullshit so soon again."

"You know I'd gladly agree to that if it weren't the case that Mother would probably call authorities to tear down the front door and confirm we're really not here," Achilles said absent-mindedly. "She's just as sick of him as we are."

"Then why did she insist to keep him in the first place?"

"Probably to turn him into the perfect son. You know, just like she did with me. Only straight this time. So she won't have to make up excuses as to why he doesn't have a girlfriend yet when she takes him to meet the family. Too bad she realized too late that she would be stuck with him for at least twenty years."

Patroclus knocked his head against the backrest of the couch and groaned. His gaze lingered on the ceiling for long. Neoptolemus really didn't deserve the way they spoke of him. Sure, he was nothing more but a spoiled, narrow-minded brat, but essentially all he did was repeat what Thetis drilled into his head, and the boy was in no way to blame for that. He'd had no say in his own education.

Still, he was old enough to rely on his own critical thinking by now, one would imagine. But just like Achilles at first, he seemed too frightened by Thetis to openly rebel against her or her opinions.

"Sometimes, I wonder if you would have left me if you stayed with her as long as Neo," Patroclus said all of a sudden into silence that was only interrupted now and then by the rustling of book pages.

Achilles lifted his head from where he had rested it on his husband's shoulder. Briefly, it seemed like he already knew the answer to that, but then his lips pressed together tightly until they were nothing but a fine, pale line.

"I often told her that I wouldn't."

Patroclus didn't need to ask if he hadn't at least thought about it. He knew Achilles had. If only to escape his mother's constant fury, her prying and hissing and demeaning and insulting. He'd gone so far as to accept the offer she had presented him with when had been fifteen.

One night.

One night with a girl, and she would leave him be, whether he changed his opinion or not.

He had come to Patroclus in the morning, shaking, pale, sick with guilt. Of course he had told him. There were no secrets between them, there had never been. It would have been wrong to start having them over something like that.

Thetis had not kept her promise, though, and not long after, she'd presented Achilles with a grainy black-and-white sonogram.

'Your child,' she had said in her gravelly voice, smug with a grin she did not bother to hide.

The next day, Achilles and Patroclus had moved out.

The timid knock from the front door echoed down into the bedroom only a few minutes before midnight.

Both Achilles and Patroclus jerked back awake from their comfortable drowsiness. They'd taken a bath together earlier; the steam and heat of the water had lulled them in and they were only waiting to fall asleep right now. Patroclus grumbled unwillingly.

"I'll get it," Achilles soothed him and fought himself from their warm blanket cocoon. His husband's hand lingered on his thigh for a moment, then he slipped out of reach and padded down the hallway to answer the door.

Out in the hallway stood – he really should have known – Zagreus, dressed in nothing but a shirt and sweatpants once more.

"I'm so sorry, sir," he stuttered weakly, "did… did I wake you up?"

"Not quite, lad," Achilles muttered with a tired, soothing smile and leaned against the doorpost. "Anything I can help you with?"

Now, upon closer inspection, he could see how absolutely miserable Zagreus looked. Immediately, he straightened up again.

"Are you alright?" he asked, a panicked rush to his voice.

Zagreus mumbled something, cheeks reddening as he struggled to avoid Achilles' gaze.

"What?" Achilles asked quietly, drawing Zagreus into the apartment to get him out of the freezing cold.

"… your— your husband," the boy repeated almost sheepishly. "You said he was a doctor. I wanted to ask— I can't sleep again, so I thought… maybe—"

He broke off, embarrassed. Achilles stroked his hair to calm him down.

"It's alright, I told you to come over if you needed anything," he comforted the boy.

Behind him, there was slightly shuffling in the bedroom and suddenly, a shadow filled the doorframe.

"Hello there, stranger," Patroclus said softly as he stepped out into the brightly lit hallway. His dark skin was a nice contrast to the blinding light, Achilles found as he peered over Zagreus' shoulder at his husband.

The boy turned to look at who had spoken. As soon as he spotted Patroclus, he tensed so sharply and abruptly that Achilles almost expected his muscles to tear from the sudden, visible strain. He quickly stepped aside in case the boy wanted to move away from him, but Zagreus just leaned against the wall behind him, putting Achilles between himself and the rest of the apartment. His hand had tightened around Achilles' wrist.

Patroclus didn't seem to notice. He stepped closer, stretching both arms above his head. His eyes, although still hazed, were glinting with interest now that he was finally face to face with this curious child his husband had adopted right off the bat upon their first meeting, no questions asked.

"Pat," Achilles said quietly, impatient for his husband to read the room while he subtly stepped before Zagreus when he realized that the boy was obviously starting to panic behind him.

That finally made Patroclus perk up and he stopped dead in his tracks. Zagreus' gaze was still fixed on him, bright with fear.

"It's okay," he said carefully and moved to stand back a little again. "I can stay here if you'd prefer that."

The boy continued to stare, but this time almost incredulously, almost like nobody had ever respected his boundaries before. Patroclus gave him a comforting smile. It took a moment, but at last, Zagreus' grip on Achilles eased and his shoulders slackened, if only a little.

"You can't sleep?" Patroclus asked, brows furrowing as he took in the dark circles beneath the boy's dull, mismatched eyes, the tremors in his hands. "Looks like that has been going on for some time already, hm?"

Zagreus didn't answer, but his face smoothed out – enough for Patroclus to know he was right.

"For how long exactly?" he continued asking, this time moving closer again to get a better look.

"I don't know," Zagreus confessed quietly, not once taking his eyes off of him. "Since I was little. Ten years, maybe more than that."

Ten years. Patroclus swallowed. What kind of parents would refuse to seek medical attention for their child if they had trouble sleeping for ten years or more than that? Then again, thinking back at his own father, he knew exactly what kind of parent.

"I'm a medic, yes, but I don't exactly keep prescription medicine around here," he said while he raised one hand to rub his beard. "I can give you some melatonin tonight, but it would be best if you got this checked out. Ten years of insomnia aren't normal at all. You should come to the hospital on Monday."

Zagreus flinched at the mention of the hospital.

"If I went to see a doctor there, wouldn't they need to get some sort of registration? Someone to sign all the papers for me and stuff?" he muttered. His eyes were glued to the floor.

Achilles carefully held him steady and exchanged a quick glance with Patroclus that only seemed to confirm what the two of them were thinking.

"Lad, how old are you, exactly?" he asked cautiously.

Zagreus refused to respond for a moment, then he shook his head under their scrutinizing stares.

"You're not of age yet," Patroclus concluded, resigned. He exhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging it slightly. "Listen, we surely won't tell you how to live your life, but you can't ignore a severe issue like that just because you'd have to go to the hospital for that."

Silence filled the hallway around them. The boy looked like a scolded puppy the way he stood there beside Achilles, shoulders hunched, head hanging, avoiding both of their gazes. He seemed just as lost as how he and Achilles had felt right after leaving home for the first time, overwhelmed with the world and desperate to work it all out just so they would never have to return to get help from their parents. Patroclus couldn't help it – his chest swelled with fondness.

"Okay, bear with me," he said, putting his hands together. "You come to the hospital on Monday. You ask for me, and only for me. If they tell you I'm busy, say you'll wait. I'll squeeze you in. No registration, no questions. I just want to make sure you will be alright. Now, if you're okay with it, I'll just quickly go past you into the bathroom to get you some melatonin pills for tonight."

Zagreus looked like he just hung the stars for him and him alone.

Chapter Text

Sunday morning, Patroclus kicked Achilles out of bed at eight.

At first, he whined about it for half an hour straight, but then he found himself happily preparing for his usual run. He'd promised Zagreus to take him along, he remembered halfway to the front door, yet he hadn't given the boy a specific time. So, he decided to just go knock on the door across the hallway to see if Zagreus was awake already.

He found him up and raring to go, dressed in his new school gear, bouncing off the walls in eager excitement.

"How did you sleep yesterday night?" Achilles asked on their way out.

Zagreus grimaced slightly.

"I slept for six hours straight. That's an improvement at least."

A skeptic glare and raised eyebrow met his gaze when he looked up at Achilles again.

"Six hours, and you call that an improvement?" Maybe teenagers today could live off of less sleep, sure, but six hours still seemed a little underwhelming, especially for a growing boy. "You do realize how unhealthy that is?"

Zagreus shrugged, stretching before he closed the zipper of his jacket a little higher to protect himself from the cold that nipped at every bit of exposed skin.

"It's more than usual, so, yes. I would call it an improvement. Can we start, sir?"

For the first time in his life, Achilles found someone who could keep up with him on a run.

Patroclus usually refused to accompany him in the first place, and when Achilles managed to drag him along for once, he turned back about halfway through the usual route to leave his husband to it. Even on the track teams during his high school and college time, no other member had been able to match Achilles' endurance nor his speed during drills or official events.

Now, as they were running down the track along the riverside, he couldn't help but marvel at how easy Zagreus seemed to breathe, even at their pace. The air was fresh and so cold it nearly burned in their lungs, and the grass about them glistened with a coating of silver frost. Nobody else had apparently been compelled to spend their Sunday morning out in just-about-freezing temperatures – the landscape was completely barren, leaving them free to run beside each other all the way to where the train station finally cut off the track.

"Do we run back or do we take the next train?" Achilles quipped, ruffling Zagreus' hair when they stopped for a moment by the wooden fence there to catch their breath and watch the rolling of the grey waves down in the river.

Immediately, the boy knocked his head against his shoulder with a relieved sigh and Achilles wrapped him up in both arms with a smile.

"I want to run. It's so much fun," Zagreus muttered, eyes closing gradually. Then, after a short moment, he asked, "Achilles, sir?"

"Hm?"

"Can you please thank Patroclus? For yesterday night, I mean. And… also apologize to him for me?"

Achilles looked down at him, surprised.

"Why would you apologize to Pat? What for?"

Visibly upset, Zagreus turned to avoid his questioning gaze. He fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket, pulled them over his fingers, and brought them up to his mouth to breathe warm air against the fabric.

"I acted so stupid around him. I didn't mean to do that. I woke you both up and then I was being such an idiot. I'm sorry for that. He just…" His voice faded out and it took a moment for him to find the words again. "He reminded me of someone for a moment."

Without saying anything, Achilles pulled him closer and rested his chin on the boy's head soothingly.

It was nearly noon upon their return, but Zagreus' cheeks were pleasantly flushed from the cold and their run when they parted ways in the apartment hallway with the promise to see each other on Monday morning for their usual trip to school.

Achilles unlocked the door to his and Patroclus' apartment to slip inside and kick his running shoes off in the foyer.

"Back at last?" his husband's voice rang from the kitchen and a moment later, Patroclus appeared in the doorway, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. "I was just pondering whether to call the police and tell them my fool of a husband ran away – quite literally – with our next-door neighbor."

That earned him a sharp pout and Achilles dodged the welcome-back kiss he usually insisted on when returning from his runs, no matter how sweaty he was.

"No need to get stingy because I'm having fun getting some exercise in with someone other than you. You always complain that you can't keep up with me, so you're not allowed to fuss now that I finally found someone who can," he retorted while running his hands through his hair, easing it out of the braid he'd kept it in. "I'm taking a shower."

"Fine. Try not to spend two entire hours in there again," Patroclus said easily and grabbed his nape to peck him on the forehead, by choice oblivious to the middle finger Achilles pointedly held up at him as he backed away into the bathroom and shut the door behind himself.

For once, he hurried through rinsing off the light morning sweat that had settled on his skin beneath his running gear and quickly making himself presentable again. The delicious smell of homemade food from the kitchen had found its way into the bathroom and only now, Achilles realized that he must have skipped breakfast today in his hurry to go check on Zagreus.

Hair still wet and heavy as he stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing it dry with a towel, he breathed the aroma of spices and seared meat in deeply.

"Done?" Patroclus asked, leaning halfway out of the kitchen, a spoon in hand. "Do me a solid – head on over to Zagreus and tell him lunch is ready, will you?"

He looked so casually expectant that Achilles had already turned on his heels when it sank in what his husband had just said.

"Wait, wait. Zagreus is joining us for lunch?" he asked.

"The boy just moved into his first apartment. He ran away from home, barely sleeps at night, and he has the self-preservation instinct of a rock," Patroclus deadpanned. "I doubt he has had a truly nutritious, warm meal in days. Go on, bring him over already."

He was so tumultuously showered with kisses that he almost burned both his hands on the stovetop when he stumbled backwards for something to hold onto. As fast as Achilles had jumped him, he was gone again, towel slung around his neck to soak up the remaining dampness from his hair.

Zagreus took a few moments to answer his knock and when he did, silver trickles of water were still caught in the slight hollows of his collarbones as well. His eyes were sweetly innocent in their curiosity.

"Sir?"

"Lunch is getting cold," Achilles simply said. The words came as easy as if they were already an established habit. "Pat's waiting for us, come on."

Thinking properly about it, Patroclus should have known the moment Achilles first told him about Zagreus that the boy was something special. When his husband took interest in someone, it was for a reason. The reason this time being that Zagreus was exactly what they had always imagined when talking about a son of their own.

Even before he had even sat down or set foot in the dining room, Zagreus was thanking him profusely for having him over, obviously uncomfortable accepting so much from two people he had barely known for a week now. Well, he would get over it, Patroclus thought as he watched the boy eat from across the table, smiling to himself. They would just have to spoil him until he got used to it.

"Do you want more?" he asked softly, nodding towards Zagreus' empty plate.

"Oh. No, sir, thank you, it's quite alright," the boy stuttered awkwardly, the redness from the bridge of his nose slowly reaching its trail of red dust up to his ears. "I'm really thankful that you let me eat with you in the first place—"

Patroclus rose from his chair and reached over to take the plate and carry it over to the kitchen, filling it up with another serving before he returned to the table and set it down before Zagreus again.

"Listen, stranger, when I ask you if you want more food and you do want more, you just say 'Yes, please' and you'll get as much as you'd like," he said firmly and took his seat again. "That's it. None of that pretense anymore, okay?"

Like a scolded child, Zagreus lowered his head, but he did eagerly finish the rest of his meal and Achilles could see the cautious, grateful look he cast Patroclus when he thought the man wasn't looking where he was bent over his own plate. But Zagreus didn't catch the amused, tender little glint in Patroclus' eyes – only Achilles did, and he couldn't help the hitch in his breath when a sharp pain jolted through his chest.

His husband was simply wonderful.

It was painfully obvious how excited Zagreus was over some real lunch and Achilles could not help his laughter when he went all starry-eyed as soon as they'd cleared the table and Patroclus opened the fridge to get out dessert for all of them.

"It's been some time since I had a full meal, let alone since I ate with someone else," the boy muttered quietly, turning his fork in his hand.

"Well, we have a few spare chairs here, as you can see," Patroclus responded while he leaned over to rest his shoulder against Achilles'. "And we do tend to cook way too much for two people. So, whenever you feel like it, come over and keep us company. We'd be delighted."

He turned his head slightly to kiss Achilles' cheek. His husband chuckled and lifted one hand to offer him a bite of cake. Wide-eyed, Zagreus watched them, but then he seemed to remember his manners and embarrassedly averted his gaze.

"Don't mind him," Achilles said and pushed Patroclus off with a soft laugh. "He says he's not one for sentimentality, but whenever we are home together, he turns into the biggest sap who cries if I don't kiss back immediately."

"That was once and I was sick," Patroclus grumbled without any real malice.

"You had a cold, Philtatos. I was just trying to not get sick so it wouldn't be the both of us stuck uselessly in bed," Achilles said serenely and fed him another bite of cake.

Across from them, Zagreus yawned.

"See, we're boring our poor stranger to sleep over there. How was your night, anyway? Did the melatonin help?" Patroclus asked when he noticed.

"Yes. Thank you, sir, again. I slept a little longer than I usually do," Zagreus muttered, very obviously not well-rested at all yet. Patroclus furrowed his brows at him.

"You go lie down on the couch a little while Achilles and I do the dishes, you hear me? Take a book from the shelf or watch some TV, but I want you to rest now," he ordered and began to stack the plates up to carry them over into the kitchen.

Of course Zagreus protested and begged to at least be allowed to help with the cleanup, but Patroclus was adamant about him relaxing and at last, the boy relented. Achilles showed him to the living room and told him to busy himself as he pleased with a smile before he quickly returned to his husband so they could get the dishes washed and put away.

"What do you think?" he asked quietly when he opened the cupboard to stack the clean plates into it.

"About what?"

"Zagreus."

"Hm."

For a moment, Patroclus was silent. His hands were submerged in the sink where he had been scrubbing a pan. Soap-suds slowly slid down his forearms and rejoined the foam on the water. Achilles watched him anxiously for a moment, but then he noticed the faint smile that had started to coax Patroclus' mouth into a beautiful arc.

"I see now what you saw in him first. Although it seems like his mind is well beyond his years, he does need someone to look after him a little, I think. I'd be honored if he would let me spoil him a bit from time to time."

In silent joy, Achilles pressed against his side.

When the last of the silverware and glasses were stashed away again, they joined Zagreus in the living room. At least they had wanted to join him. In the doorway, Patroclus reached behind him to stop Achilles in his tracks and gestured for him to keep it down. On the couch, cheek squished against a pillow, breathing steadily, Zagreus was out cold. What little winter sunshine found its way through the tall windows enveloped his shoulders and back, warming him. His innocent face was pale with exhaustion and yet strangely at peace. Their voices from the kitchen, muffled as they'd been, had lulled him to sleep with a deep sense of security and comfort.

Chapter Text

When Zagreus woke, he found himself covered by something heavy, warm. Dim light filtered slowly through his still closed eyelids, staining his vision a dull red.

"… and this one. Which color do you like?"

"Grey or black. Easy to wash, and a darker, calmer color. Is that all, you think?"

"For the moment, yes. Ah, look at that. Finally coming to again, stranger? You were out for quite some time there."

Two gentle smiles greeted him when he opened his eyes begrudgingly and peered over at where Patroclus and Achilles were curled up against one another in the opposite corner of the couch. They both had been looking at a tablet perched on Patroclus' knees. Now, seeing their little charge awake, Achilles withdrew his hand from where it had been resting on his husband's thigh and instead reached to adjust the blanket they had apparently draped over Zagreus while he'd slept.

"Hope you got some decent rest this time, lad. More than six hours is an even better improvement than last night, don't you think?"

The boy sat up, bleary-eyed and a little disoriented. His mouth was parched and a strange taste lingered between his teeth. The blinds had been lowered down completely and only the faint light from a dimmed ceiling lamp illuminated the living room where he had passed out.

"How long'd I sleep?" Zagreus slurred, running his hand over his face.

"I guess about eight hours," Patroclus said serenely and offered him a glass of water. "It's quarter to nine, in case that's what you've been asking."

Grateful and still half-delirious, Zagreus downed the refreshingly cool liquid and licked his chapped lips to wet them, now that his tongue had come unstuck from the roof of his mouth. Eight hours – that was probably the longest he'd slept ever since he had been a child. Only now, the reality of the situation came crashing down on him and he clutched the quilted blanket in his hands, staring down at it while hot embarrassment flooded his body and made him uncomfortably warm.

"Sorry for taking up your couch like that," he muttered, but Achilles just clicked his tongue and shook his head at the boy.

"Don't apologize, lad. You needed it desperately. One or two times you almost woke up, but then Pat got you his old weighted blanket and you were out like a light again. It's obvious that you really need to work on that little sleeping issue of yours."

Only now, Zagreus realized that the blanket did feel heavy where it was still spread out over his hips and legs. Heavy, but comfortable. Almost like a tight hug. He slid it a bit higher.

"We're currently busy improving your bedroom a little," Patroclus suddenly said from across the couch. His gaze was still fixated on the tablet. "Getting you some weighted blankets and pillows and whatnot to help you sleep, how's that sound?"

"Like you're wasting too much time and money on me, sir," Zagreus said quietly. Tears burned like acid in his eyes. The first drops splashed onto his hands in silence, forming wet splotches on the blanket beneath.

Then, a warm, gentle hand cupped his chin and forced his head to turn slightly. Concerned, emerald green eyes quickly swept over his face, then Achilles shuffled closer to take him into his arms.

"Lad, we're not wasting anything on you. Least of all time. And money is something we have in abundance. Even if we didn't care for you as much as we do, if we could help you by spending a little of our savings on you, we wouldn't mind. But we do care for you, Zagreus. We care so much we can't stand to see how miserable you are feeling."

Achilles hesitated for a moment, a thought springing to his mind.

"Of course, if you'd like us to keep out of your business, you only need to say so and we will leave you alone, but—"

"No!"

The sound was more a rough, choked sob than a real response, but Zagreus pressed against him in a flurry of panic with enough force to break some ribs.

"No, please, sir, don't leave me," he whispered, the words barely discernable between his heavy breaths. "Please, don't leave me too, sir, please."

"Shh, love, we won't," Achilles assured tenderly and laced his fingers into Zagreus' hair. "We're not going to leave you, neither of us is. You're here with us and we'll stay with you for as long as you need, do you understand? No one's leaving you, Zagreus, love."

Patroclus watched in silence from his corner of the couch. He would have very much liked to at least join his hand to Achilles' and let the boy feel he was there with him as well, but he still could not shake the look of terror in Zagreus' eyes from yesterday night – the exact same look he had seen on himself in the mirror so many times in Menoetius' presence.

So, he simply hummed his assent and smiled when Zagreus carefully glanced over at him.

"Easy, stranger. You know, Achilles has basically adopted you already. He couldn't love you more if you were his own son. And if I'm completely honest, I can start to see why," he said in the softest, most comforting tone.

Even with that reassurance, it took quite a while for Zagreus to calm down once more, and even then, he refused to lift his head from Achilles' chest for long. So, the three of them got comfortable just the way they were, Patroclus at a certain distance, his husband and Zagreus snuggled up as close as they would fit on the other side of the couch, tucked in under the weighted blanket.

"I had no nightmares this time," Zagreus whispered after some time spent mindlessly drawing patterns onto Achilles' arm. "Usually, I wake up because I had a nightmare."

Brief glances were exchanged over his head.

"The blanket can help with a lot of anxiety. And it relieves some of your touch-starvation", Patroclus explained gently.

The boy winced and his eyes shyly flickered to the side.

"I… didn't have any nightmares when Achilles was staying with me after my panic attack either," he finally mumbled into the blanket.

"Well, you do seem to sleep better when you're in company," Achilles agreed and continued stroking his hair, lightly scratching his fingers over Zagreus' scalp. The boy sighed in response. "I sleep way better when I'm with Pat, too. His nightshifts are the worst."

Monday, Achilles wasn't even surprised anymore when Zagreus came bounding down the stairs during lunch break. Together, they cleaned up from the last class. Zagreus appeared even livelier than usual, the sufficient amount of sleep from yesterday still humming in his bones. Achilles could barely contain his laughter at how energetic the boy was around him, constantly returning to cling to his arm and press his face against Achilles' shoulder as if to reassure himself that he was still allowed to do that.

It was endearing, really, to see how he slowly began to trust Achilles more and more.

Zagreus got a little quieter when they returned upstairs to the cafeteria, though. The crowd of students and teachers seemed to fascinate him each and every time he was faced with the colorful turmoil of it. He didn't seem exactly intimidated, he just liked to watch the whole hustle and bustle go by.

Just as they entered through the doors, someone got up a little from where they were sitting by a table and raised one hand in excited greeting.

"Zag! Come on over, sit with us!" Automedon called.

Cheeks flushed with pleasure, Zagreus looked up at Achilles as if to ask permission. Smiling, the man nudged him forward.

"Go ahead, we'll see each other at five. I'll take you to the hospital straight after class then."

Zagreus rushed off to join the rest of the Myrmidons, seamlessly fitting himself into the group once he sat down with them. For a moment, Achilles watched, then he joined the teacher's table a short way down the large hall. Across from him, Odysseus sat and appeared deeply engrossed in a book he was reading while his fork still hovered mid-air. After about five minutes of amusedly throwing him glances, Achilles decided to speak up.

"I do believe your salad has cooled off enough now. Safe to say you're not going to burn your tongue on it anymore," he jested.

Odysseus flinched, then he looked up at last – first at Achilles, then at his fork. With a shrug, he put it back down and committed himself wholly to his book.

"Sorry. I've been reading up on something."

"So I've noticed. You do look concerned, though. Is there anything on your mind?" Achilles asked while he took the first bite of his food and crossed his legs beneath the table.

The book in Odysseus' hand wasn't one he was familiar with, but it did look like some pedagogical volume from the university's library. Achilles couldn't decipher the title hidden behind Odysseus' hand that clasped the cover.

"You could say that," his colleague said absent-mindedly and flipped a page. "Remember the freshman you went to pick up while I supervised your students recently?"

The words jolted through Achilles like lightning. He sat up straight. His gaze wandered over to where Zagreus and the other boys from his five o'clock class were sitting, immersed in some eager discussion or talk. He looked so at ease. So happy.

"What about him?" he asked sharply.

Odysseus scrutinized him for a moment as if to see why he'd reacted so violently, then he lifted the book slightly.

"He's in my rhetoric class. And he's… special. We read a chapter of our textbook in class together. The next day I randomly called on Zagreus to tell me what it was about. He gave me a nearly perfect detailed retelling. Of course I praised him for it. After that, I told my students to remember this chapter especially well for a quiz we took today, but I also said I wouldn't take off many points if they didn't get it all right. Zagreus wrote the whole chapter down word for word. And I made damn sure nobody cheated, so that was all him. This boy has the gift of remembering things if he's being told he won't suffer any consequences for not remembering them, if he's being encouraged. He lives off of praise, he wants to please. That's usually not a sign of a very healthy mind."

He paused to finally take a bite of his salad as if only now remembering that he was meant to be eating during lunch break.

"I've been watching him for a few days now and I can't shake the feeling that something is off about that kid. It's not something he displays plainly and for all to see, but you notice it when you start to focus on him a little. With the other boys, he's totally fine – talking, joking, being inattentive like the students his age tend to be – but whenever an adult man addresses him, he freezes up. It's almost as if he's scared. And that's where his desire to please comes in. He wants to avoid negative attention from adults."

Achilles felt his throat clenching violently. One disadvantage of being stuck down in the gym all day was that he couldn't simply keep an eye on Zagreus as much as he'd like to make sure the boy was doing alright, but to hear something like that from a colleague instead of realizing it himself did sting. The only other adult he'd ever seen in Zagreus' presence other than himself was Patroclus, and he—

The memory of how the boy had pressed against him when his husband had appeared in the bedroom door flooded back to him only now. How he'd nearly squeezed himself in between the wall and Achilles just to get away. How he'd told Achilles to apologize to Patroclus on his behalf for his behavior – an apology Achilles had never felt the need to deliver.

"And what, in all your wisdom, did you deduce from that?" he asked, voice tight-pressed.

Odysseus closed his book with a snap and rose to his feet to hoist the leather bag he always carried onto his shoulder.

"Nothing, really. But I'll be careful around the boy from now on. Last thing I want is to traumatize an abused child even more."

Chapter Text

"You're being quiet tonight, lad," Achilles remarked without taking his eyes off the street before them.

The town was nearly empty at this hour – the evening rush of students and commuters returning home from a long day at school and work was over and only from time to time did another car pass them by on their way to the hospital.

Zagreus didn't respond. He'd spent a good deal of the evening doing everything in his might to not meet Achilles' eyes whatsoever, and he had avoided him like the plague during class, instead choosing to always stick with the other boys.

"Is it because of the hospital?"

He got no response. Odysseus' words echoed in his head.

"You do know," Achilles said carefully, "that Patroclus and I would never hurt you? Or do anything you don't want? You need only speak up if we overstep, please remember that."

"You have no idea," Zagreus spat out through clenched teeth. He was shaking badly, clutching his knees with both hands so hard that his knuckles protruded white beneath his skin.

Almost, Achilles pulled the car over to hold him until he was better, but then again, delaying the entire procedure wouldn't help either way. He bit his lips and tried to swallow his worries alongside the faint taste of blood. In the hospital parking lot, he threw his jacket over his arm and waited for Zagreus to step out of the car as well. When the boy didn't, he carefully pulled the door open and sat down on the edge of the seat beside Zagreus.

"I know it's hard for you, but Pat is just so worried. I've never seen him like this before, and I know he wouldn't put you through anything that made you uncomfortable if it wasn't absolutely necessary," he said softly, stroking his hand over the boy's thigh. "Do you trust me, Zagreus? Do you trust us?"

"I trust you," Zagreus whispered, never taking his eyes off of Achilles' face. "But I don't trust anyone else."

"What are you afraid of, then? Can you tell me? Is it something you can talk about with me?" Achilles asked and gently reached to lift the raven spikes of dark hair obscuring the boy's face.

He looked so troubled, almost pained – it was nearly unbearable to watch. Of course Achilles had been able to tell from everything that had happened so far that Zagreus hadn't had it easy up until now, but to see his little charge like this still tore at all his heartstrings when he imagined what might have happened to him to make him so terrified.

Slowly, Zagreus leaned against him. His hands were still white and tense, but his fear seemed to ease slightly when Achilles wrapped one hand around his waist in return. They sat like that in the dim glow of the car's ceiling light, then the boy turned and buried his face in the juncture of Achilles' neck and shoulder.

"He's going to find out I was at the hospital," he mutters. "He's going to know where I am and he's going to make me come back and… a-and…"

He was trembling too much, his jaw tensing too tightly to speak. Achilles would have very much liked to ask who he was talking about, but Zagreus was upset enough as it was – no need to open that wound further for now.

"Nobody's going to find out," he shushed the boy and pulled him closer. "Patroclus already told you: no registration, no official records of you being there, okay? No one will know and we won't tell anyone."

"No, you won't! But if he calls the hospital, someone will remember I was here and they'll tell him and he'll know where to look for me and then I have to go back and I don't want that, I want to stay with you and Pat, I want to go to school, I want to go to your class, I want to be with you, Achilles! Please, please, don't make me go back!"

Shaken over the sudden outburst after an evening of nearly being ignored completely for the entire evening, Achilles couldn't quite formulate an answer to that before he grasped Zagreus' face and held it firmly, looking down at him.

"Listen, Zagreus," he said with iron resolve, "if anyone tries to take you away from me – from us – we won't let them. Especially not if they're just going to treat you as horrible as they've treated you until now, it seems. You're safe with us. If you really trust me, I ask you only to believe me on that. Me and Pat, we'd fight for you to stay with us, okay? Maybe we can get temporary custody of you until you're of age if we apply for it with good reason. But for that, we'd have to know what happened to you."

Briseis, Patroclus' secretary, immediately notified him upon their arrival. They'd been expected. Patroclus had cleared his schedule after six and told the front office to only send patients who were absolute emergencies. He went about the examinations quickly and silently, taking care not to linger too long in Zagreus' presence while he worked and keeping his questions brief and simple to answer.

At long last, he gently lifted the boy's wrist and fixed a little armband around it, almost like a watch with a rectangular display. Achilles almost protested when he saw how tightly it dug into Zagreus' flesh, but Patroclus gave him a soothing glance from across the room when he noticed where his husband's eyes were focused on.

"It's just for a few nights to keep track of your sleep rhythm so I can understand it better, okay?" he muttered and adjusted Zagreus' long sleeve again. "You're allowed to take it off during showers and baths, but make sure to tighten the band properly again after."

Nodding faintly, the boy stared down at the contraption. He was still sitting on the examination table when Patroclus stepped away and took his gloves off with a snap.

"We're done," Patroclus urged. "Go ahead, you two can leave."

Surprised, Zagreus looked up.

"Done?" he asked nervously.

"Yes, lad. Done," Patroclus repeated with the patience of a saint. "I'll only get the results in a bit and I'll be sure to bring them back home so nobody here gets any insight about them."

He turned to put his work station in order when suddenly, he felt two arms coiling around him from behind – lower than Achilles' usual hugs. Tensing, he stopped dead in his movements.

"When are you coming home?" Zagreus muttered against his shoulder blade and nuzzled closer to him.

A faint smile curled Patroclus' lips and he reached down to lightly rub his thumb over the boy's knuckles.

"An hour at most. I only have to finish up some paperwork first."

Zagreus looked back at Achilles.

"I'll wait here."

"You want to stay with Pat?"

"Yes. If he'll let me."

The two adults had a rapid exchange of meaningful looks between them for a second, then Patroclus reached to wrap one arm around his shoulders.

"If you really want to… I guess you could stay here. But I'm warning you, I might have to stay longer if they transfer some patients from the ER to me, and then you'd have to leave the office and wait out front."

Zagreus' neck tensed at the mention of being separated from Patroclus for even a second. He shook his head.

"An hour?"

The question was quiet, almost a plea. The unsure expression on Patroclus' face mellowed as he cupped the boy's face and kissed his forehead.

"An hour," he promised with new determination.

It really wasn't more than an hour until the front door opened and Zagreus rolled over on the couch to keep an eye on the hallway. Achilles was busy in the kitchen but he too peered outside for a moment to welcome his husband home with a brief kiss while Patroclus stripped his jacket.

"Is the boy here?" was the first thing out of his mouth and his gaze wandered searchingly through the apartment.

"In the living room," Zagreus heard Achilles say.

He quickly closed his eyes, feigning sleep when Patroclus' steps approached. They slowed down considerably before quietly coming closer again. The couch dipped slightly underneath his weight and Zagreus felt a large, heavy hand caress his hair for a moment. He wanted to move into the affectionate touch, wanted to shuffle closer and rest his head on Patroclus' thigh to make him stay a bit, but he'd already pretended to be fast asleep and didn't want to give himself away.

For a while, Patroclus sat beside him, apparently content with just stroking his hair. Then, he stood up and disappeared into the kitchen. Zagreus cracked one eye open to watch him leave and instantly regretted not asking him to stay.

"He's resting more lately, isn't he?"

"Only when he's here with us, I think. It feels like he is enjoying it. Being around us, I mean. Pat, I'm worried. He nearly wouldn't come inside the hospital today, saying he was too scared someone might find out he's been there. That someone would take him away from us again. And Odysseus—"

Patroclus' voice was nearing a growl when he spoke again.

"What did that snake have to say about our boy?"

Our boy.

The words filled Zagreus with a strange flutter. He could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips, but he didn't dare to move. He'd been called 'boy' for as long as he could remember, yet it would have never come to his father's mind to call him his boy – much less in any sort of affectionate way. To hear them talking about himself like he belonged with them set something within him alight.

"— anyone who even so much as dares to think about laying a hand on him!" Patroclus suddenly snarled and Zagreus shot up.

He'd been so lost in thought that he must have missed the last bit of conversation. What were they talking about?

"Pat, calm down, calm down, you'll frighten him—"

"No, I'm not calming down!"

Their voices got louder and Zagreus felt the familiar panic slowly welling up within him like ice-cold winter tide, freezing his muscles in place until he could barely breathe from how hard every sinew in his body tightened.

"It won't change anything if you get upset about it now, Pat!"

"Like I can help it!" Patroclus bellowed. His voice was dangerously choked up. "I don't want to even imagine it, I can't—"

The first, quiet sob seemed to release all tension from Zagreus' body. He bolted for the kitchen at a speed he would not have believed himself capable of and threw himself right into their arms. Surprised, they caught him between them while he pulled them both closer and pressed his face against Patroclus' chest. The racing heartbeat beneath his cheek felt so imminent that he gently laid his hand over it as if to stop it from breaking through skin and ribs.

Achilles' breath warmed his neck as he wrapped his arms around them both.

"Lad, what—"

"My mother left us just after I was born. I understand why, I just wish she would have taken me with her," Zagreus began, eyes squeezed shut tightly. "My father never married again. Can't imagine any woman marrying him out of free will, anyway. I'm actually surprised my mother even endured him for as long as it took them to have me. He started hating me even before the times I still remember. Maybe he's always hated me, I don't know. A woman moved in with us to take care of me when I was little. Nyx. She already had kids and brought two of them to live in our house. I… I guess she owed him, because they all started working for him."

The kitchen was dead silent. Neither of them tried to interrupt him or respond or ask any questions. He was free to talk, free to stop. The relief that flooded him was inhumane.

"I don't know what I did wrong or if he just— if he just despised me on principle. Everything I said was wrong, everything I did wasn't good enough. I stopped trying when I was older and he hated me even more for it. When I first asked about my mother, he locked me in my room for days. I know Nyx tried to make him let me out, but… he wouldn't. I don't even know how long it took for him to calm down. He started yelling at me after that for every little mistake I made. Even if I just got up from the table before he dismissed us, he would scream at me. Nyx… I'm sure she did her best to protect me, but I could tell that she wasn't in a very good place herself. Always absent, always distracted."

Warm hands began to stroke his hair, his arms, his sides. Talking suddenly seemed so exhausting, yet the more he spoke about it, the lighter he felt. More of his weight dropped forward against the firm embrace he was enveloped in. They would hold him upright, even if he fell, he was sure.

"One of her sons – Than. We… we liked each other. A lot. We would play when we were little, and he always tried to put himself between me and my father. I started having the worst dreams at night and Than would sometimes sneak into my room when he heard me scream, until my father found out. I can't really— All I remember is the sirens and the men in yellow jackets trying to get into our house. My father sent them away. Nyx cried all day while she tried to treat my worst injuries. I think she was the one who called the ambulance after he beat me up. He started locking my and Than's doors as soon as we went to sleep, and one time he almost broke my jaw for trying to talk to Than at dinner. He… he said… I think he told Than not to get involved with me. That he should not let me spoil him or there would be consequences."

Their hold on him tightened when tears began to slip down his cheeks.

"I tried— I really tried to avoid Than. So my father couldn't get angry at him anymore. So he would stop hitting me – hitting us. When Than asked me why I just wouldn't look at him anymore one day, I… I— Gods, I told him I hated him. That he was the reason my father detested me, because he saw how good Than was at everything and how I was nothing like that. I get it, it's wrong that I love him, it's wrong! I didn't want my father to hurt Than, but… but I love him so much, how could I say something like that to him? How could I tell him I hate him?"

Zagreus' words ebbed away in a mess of sobs. It felt strange, finally telling someone about all that had happened. He almost expected them to let go of him, but Achilles and Patroclus only kept standing there with him in their arms until his legs gave out.

Strong arms hoisted him up and he felt his head falling against Patroclus' shoulder while he was carried out of the kitchen and somewhere new – a room he'd never been in until now. It was cool and dark, faint outlines of a desk and chair and a bookshelf filled his rapidly wavering vision. Zagreus was gently laid down on a bed and both Achilles and Patroclus sat down beside him, just whispering his name, soothingly stroking his hair and back.

When all his tears had dried up, he lay exhausted in Achilles' lap, but he was no longer afraid. And after Patroclus pulled the blanket up to his chin, they sat next to him in silence, just watching him sleep, quietly clutching each other's hands.

The last thing Zagreus had whispered before his eyes closed had been, "I want to be yours." And that was all they had needed to hear.

Chapter Text

Zagreus woke up in the dusk of an unfamiliar room.

Tiny slivers of light fought themselves through the narrow slits in the blinds that covered the window. It must be morning, he thought, sitting up and rubbing his face. Dull pain pulsed behind his temples and his throat was sore. A glass of water sat on the nightstand together with two pills and a sticky note.

Sleep for as long as you like, and don't worry,
we're at work. I will be back at around six.
Until then, do whatever you like. There is
food in the kitchen in case you get hungry.
Take anything you want from the fridge.

We love you, Zagreus —A

(The pills are for the headache you're probably
going to wake up with, take one when you
wake up and one later if it doesn't go away —P)

Looking around now, Zagreus took in the sights. The shelf across the room was stacked with books and between them stood pricey little trinkets, golden trophies, and collectibles. On the desk with the expensive-looking chair stood two curved screens and a futuristic keyboard. Everything was kept in black and occasionally red. The door to the closet had been slid open halfway and Zagreus stared in awe at the sheer number of clothes – every single piece of them looking like it had cost more than his entire garderobe. In the corner stood a towering stereo system.

He'd never been in here.

It looked like someone had furnished a room for someone his age and yet nobody thought of ever setting foot in it. Dust had settled on the tabletop and everything appeared unused and abandoned, almost. While he sipped his water and took the first of the pills as instructed, Zagreus asked himself who this room was for.

Had Patroclus and Achilles wanted children? But wouldn't they have prepared a nursery if they had? Was this the old room of either of them? They both really didn't look like they would have enjoyed an environment like this, even as teenagers, though.

With the curious circumstances yet to be solved, Zagreus finally managed to get out of bed and into the kitchen. Someone had bothered with a whole lavish breakfast, just waiting for him to sit down and indulge. A quick glance at the clock on the coffeemaker told him that it was nearly twelve. He wasn't used to sleeping in and it felt uncomfortable to be home alone.

Home.

The thought felt strange for a moment, but then it settled as simple truth. He was home. Yes, this was home. A tired smile on his lips, he pulled out a chair and took a seat to have breakfast by himself.

When Achilles returned, he immediately got himself an armful of happily purring Zagreus.

"How was your day?" Achilles asked lovingly while he let his keys clatter into the blue glass bowl on the hallway dresser and unwound the scarf from his neck. "Do you feel better?"

"Much," Zagreus replied and wriggled out of their embrace to take Achilles' coat and put it up on the rack. "Glad you're home."

"Mm, I couldn't wait for the day to end either. Did you eat properly? I'm starving, you know. Let's see what we can get ready for dinner so we can eat and Pat doesn't have to wait once he gets home." He peered out the window with a concerned frown. "It really cooled down since last night. I hope it doesn't snow."

While they went about preparing a simple meal together, Achilles told him about his day and about how the rest of the evening class sent him their regards and hoped he'd return soon to join them again. With no word did he address any of the happenings of last night – at least not until Zagreus carefully grazed the issue.

"In whose room did I wake up this morning? I've never seen it before."

Achilles tensed.

"That's… Neo's room. My son's."

Zagreus felt all color draining from his face and a wave of nausea slammed into his stomach. For some reason, that was the last thing he'd expected and it sent him into a sudden fit of black vertigo.

"You have a son."

It was more confirmation of a fact rather than a question. He watched the line of Achilles' shoulders tense. The knife he'd been holding rang out with a bright, silvery sound when he put it down on the marble counter with more force than strictly necessary.

"Technically. He lives with my mother ninety percent of the time. I'd say he's more her son than mine. Calls her mother and all that. We could just as well be siblings."

That would explain why the room was stacked with so much expensive entertainment for a teenager yet looked as unused as a simple broom closet. Achilles' voice was strained, yet Zagreus couldn't help his prying.

"How old is he?"

"He's turning eighteen soon."

In silence, Zagreus looked down at the plates he'd just been carrying over to the table. He set them out and went to grab the silverware. While he rummaged through the drawer for some forks, another question came to his mind, one that ached on his tongue so sharply he had to spit it out or it would have burned him.

"I thought you were—"

The words wouldn't come as he had intended, but Achilles seemed to understand.

"Yes. I've only ever loved Patroclus," he said.

"Then who's the mother of your son?" Zagreus asked shyly. "Did she… leave him too?"

Achilles laughed, but it was a dry and chopped-off sound.

"No, lad. Deidamia didn't leave. My mother played a sick little game with her as she did with me, and we've since tried to make the best of it. I'm glad she didn't get dragged into this whole affair more than necessary."

The room fell silent for some time, but Zagreus head was swirling with all that new information and when Achilles leaned against the stove to wait for the water to boil, he dared to dig deeper.

"But if you only love Patroclus… did you… did you cheat on him?"

"It's a little more complicated than that, lad, believe me. If only it had been that simple," Achilles said grimly. "My mother hated me for loving him. I was desperate to get her approval because she still meant the world to me, even though now I see that nothing she ever did was because I meant something to her in return. So, when she told me one day that she'd stop trying to separate me and Pat if I agreed to a deal, I jumped on the opportunity. Gods, I shouldn't have."

He rubbed his forehead, apparently losing his train of thought for a moment. His eyes had dulled with bitterness and Zagreus felt bad for asking now.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," he said carefully.

"You'd ask again sooner or later anyway, would you not?" Achilles responded with a wry smile. "Better just get it over with, no?"

A faint shade of crimson began to dust Zagreus' cheeks at that. He knew he could keep his interest in the story at bay only for so long.

"Anyway. My mother introduced me to a lovely girl. Deidamia. Our parents were acquainted, apparently, but I never asked for details. At first, I didn't know what to expect. Then, my mother laid it on us: one night together and she would leave me be, no matter my final decision. I think Deidamia felt rather… enamored with me back then, because she instantly agreed. I was young and stupid and ready to do whatever it took to not have to worry about my relationship with Patroclus any longer. Thinking back now, I suppose I should have known better, even though I was only fifteen at the time. Deidamia got… well. She was pregnant after that night. With my child."

He smiled in anguish.

"I told Patroclus what I'd done, of course. We were always honest with each other – we still are. I cried for days, I think. I fell ill soon after, I got a fever, I didn't sleep at night, I threw up after each and every meal. I was sick with guilt."

"Did he… forgive you?" Zagreus whispered.

"He said there was nothing to forgive. Patroclus blamed my mother, not me. When she showed us the first ultrasound picture, we packed our bags. Ran away from home. Nobody came looking for us, although they knew where we'd gone. A few times, Deidamia tried to contact me. I made Patroclus answer her calls. I was cruel like that, and just as much of a coward. When she gave birth, my mother immediately applied for custody. She got it without a hitch – who wants to leave a girl of fourteen alone with a baby and her aging father? That's why Neo lives with my mother now. The court ruled me to be responsible for him too as soon as I got a stable job and this apartment here, so for one weekend a month, me and Pat get stuck with him."

For a long time, Zagreus pondered the entire story. It felt familiar. A cruel parent, a wrong decision, running away. Only Achilles had been with Patroclus when they'd escaped their home. And he had left Thanatos without a word of Goodbye, had only told him he hated him and had disappeared.

"Get stuck with him…?" he parroted in disbelief, only now realizing what that implied.

"You'll understand once you meet him," Achilles said grimly.

His expression had darkened and Zagreus wasn't so sure whether he wanted to meet this guy.

"We thought about it yesterday while you slept," Patroclus said when they were all sprawled out on the couch to watch some TV. "You can stay in Neoptolemus' room, if you'd like."

Zagreus looked over at him with wide eyes.

"Stay as in…?"

"As in you terminating your rental contract and moving in with us," Achilles finished the sentence for him.

Momentarily, Zagreus stayed quiet, then he blanched.

"No."

"You don't want to or you feel like you can't accept our offer?"

Two sets of eyes were scrutinizingly set on his face and Zagreus squirmed in place to escape the inquisitive onslaught.

"N-No. I can't accept that, please. This is your apartment, I can't possibly—"

"You can. We're not paying more rent just because you start living here with us, and we'd rather you save what little money you have in case something comes up," Patroclus cut him off, never taking his eyes off the TV in the first place. "That's something we meant to ask, anyway. You ran away from home yet you even managed to get yourself a reasonably nice place to stay. Are you using a credit card for all this? Your father would know, wouldn't he?"

Zagreus lowered his head in embarrassment.

"I have… no idea how credit cards and that whole money stuff even work," he confessed. "My father kept the house filled with things like gemstones and cash, for some reason, so I just stole what I thought I'd need over the course of a few months and… well."

Both Achilles and Patroclus gave him a bewildered stare upon hearing that. They'd already figured the money he'd used to pay for his first month of rent wasn't all that legally obtained, but to hear him admit he'd paid in cash – and with stolen cash at that – took the cake.

"Why did your father not report that you stole his money?" Achilles asked, confused. "And why, if he's trying to find out where you are in the first place like you suspect, did he not report you missing, either? Police all over the country must be looking for you right now!"

"Fairly sure he didn't send the police to find me or his money. They would have come to ask him questions and that's probably the least thing he wanted," Zagreus muttered and pulled his knees to his chest. "I don't think it was entirely okay what he did back at home. The only one allowed out of the house was Than, and only because my father literally beat it into him that if he ever lost a word about where he lived or what was happening there, he'd never leave the place again. Me, Hypnos, and Nyx always had to stay inside. No windows, no open doors. And… I don't think my father had a real job or something. He worked for his family, is all I know, and they're all kind of doing dirty business."

A long stretch of awkward silence followed that revelation while all parties involved tried to make sense of all the news this evening had brought.

"So you didn't go to school, either?" Achilles asked quietly.

Zagreus shook his head.

"Who taught you how to write and read?"

"Nyx, mostly. When my father found out, he took all the books we had to his office and kept the door shut."

"You spent your entire life locked up in a house without windows?"

A faint nod. Then, despite the humiliation of it, Zagreus sat up straight and looked toward the window across from them.

"What is snow?"

Chapter Text

"I have the results," Patroclus said quietly one evening during dinner. "It took quite a bit of having people promise not to tell, but I don't think anyone will ever mention that I needed documents for a patient who was never officially there."

He reached for his bag that he'd put beside his chair before they had sat down to eat and pulled out a file. Both Achilles and Zagreus looked at him, still holding their knives and forks. With a sigh, Patroclus swept on his reading glasses and thumbed through the stack of papers before setting it down with a heavy, dull sound.

"Pat," Achilles said, his voice dangerously low. A warning.

His husband didn't seem to be deterred at all by it.

"ADHD, heavy sleeping disorders. A very severe inclination toward depression—"

"Pat."

Patroclus didn't look up from his documents.

"— hints of a few other, not so pretty mental afflictions—"

"Pat!"

"Also, impaired past trauma processing and—"

"Pat!"

Achilles leapt up and grabbed Patroclus' shoulder. The movement was rougher than intended and only now, his husband looked up to see that Zagreus had recoiled in his chair. His hair was growing matted with sweat, but he didn't raise his gaze from where it was fixated on the tiled kitchen floor. With one last murderous glare at Patroclus, Achilles moved to kneel down before Zagreus and gently take his hands.

"It sounds bad right now, I know that," he said soothingly and clutched the boy's arms when Zagreus didn't react in the slightest. "Won't you look at me, love? Please? For me?"

Slowly, the mismatched eyes lifted to meet his own. Achilles smiled in relief.

"See, that's better. Now listen, Zagreus. It sounds like a lot, but believe me, we will work on everything bit by bit until you're all better, okay? You're not alone with all of this. You have us, no? Look, so many things are better already. You sleep more than you used to over the past few years and you've been talking about what happened to you with us. I'm so proud of you for all of that. The rest can be taken care of over time. And we're here for you after all, remember that."

It took a while for Zagreus to break from his sudden stupor. He nodded, but it still looked hesitant. While they finished dinner in silence, Achilles felt free to kick Patroclus' leg beneath the table and glared daggers at his husband. Ruefully, Patroclus looked back at him. It had happened before: Achilles regularly scolded him for how insensitive he acted and talked, but he just couldn't help himself sometimes. Many of his patients liked that he didn't dress up the truth and just told it how it was, and he had never thought he'd have to adjust to having a child around from one day to the next, either.

"Thanks for dinner," Zagreus muttered and got up when they'd finished eating.

Without another word, he helped Achilles do the dishes. Then, he disappeared out into the hallway. Achilles sighed softly to himself, waiting for the door to Zagreus' room – he'd stopped thinking about it as Neoptolemus' room altogether lately – to close behind him. Instead, the lock of the front door was opened. With a rush of panic welling up inside of him, Achilles bolted out of the kitchen.

"Zagreus!"

The boy was standing by the door, holding his schoolbag and his shoes in his hand, looking back at Achilles. His eyes were dazed with exhaustion.

"What?"

"Where are you going?" Achilles asked and carefully walked toward him. Before he could reach the foyer, Zagreus had already stepped outside into the hallway.

"To bed."

He hadn't slept in his own apartment for nearly a week now. The contract for it had already been cancelled, but it still lasted until the end of the month.

"Lad, I'm sorry about all this. Pat can be inexcusably rude sometimes, but I know he's already feeling bad about laying this on you like he did," Achilles tried to comfort him. "Please, just come back inside. I'll talk to him. Knowing him, he's probably feeling so ashamed that he won't even dare to face you for the rest of the evening anyway."

For a moment, Zagreus stared at him. Then, he slowly shook his head.

"Goodnight, Achilles."

He shut the door behind him with a soft, definite click.

"You know this is your fault."

"I know."

"You know I'm upset with you."

"I know."

"Really, really upset with you."

"I know."

"I don't even want to look at you right now."

"I know."

The bedroom fell oppressively silent. Patroclus rolled over to gently run his hand down Achilles' side. His husband had turned his back at him and refused to respond to the soft caress.

"Do you want me to sleep in the living room for tonight?" he asked into the quiet.

Achilles did not answer right away. His shoulders lifted slightly and the moonlight leapt off the curve of his naked back.

"Please. Just until I'm asleep."

Patroclus leaned over him and pressed a light kiss to his hair before he got up. The bedroom door closed quietly behind him. The hallway was faintly illuminated, streaks of silver were painted across the wooden floor. With a sigh, Patroclus let himself fall down on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. It had been a long time since they had not slept next to each other – they just had no idea how to argue for real. The last time Achilles had asked him to please stay out of the bedroom until he'd fallen asleep had been nineteen years ago. The night he'd confessed to sleeping with Deidamia.

His phone that he'd left on the couch table suddenly lit up. Lucky him that he perpetually kept it on silent twenty-four seven. Frowning, Patroclus fought himself back into a sitting position. It had to be way after midnight and he definitely wasn't signed in for on-call duty or he would have suspected the hospital. Finally, his vision cleared up enough for him to properly take in the caller ID.

"Hello, stranger," he said softly and leaned forward to rest his elbow on his thigh.

"Did I wake you up?"

"No."

Silence.

"Zagreus?"

"I thought I could— I… I can't."

"I'm coming."

Patroclus stood up and slipped into a pair of sweatpants that were draped over the drying rack in the bathroom, then he left the apartment, closing the door as quietly as he could to not disturb Achilles, toying with the spare key to his apartment Zagreus had left for them.

He found the boy curled up on his bed, eyes red-rimmed and shoulders slumped weakly. When Patroclus entered, he immediately threw himself against him with a cry of relief. Softly shushing him, Patroclus lifted him up until Zagreus could wrap his legs around his waist and buried his face against his neck.

"There you are, love. I'm here now. You're not alone," he whispered and sat down on the bed with Zagreus in his arms, stroking his back. "I'm here."

His shoulders hit the wall behind them and he leaned against it comfortably while gently trailing his fingers along the line of Zagreus' brow, lacing them into his hair, working out the tangles in it. Like a child, the boy curled up on his chest and his breathing evened like he'd only been waiting for Patroclus to come so he could calm down.

For a long time, they just sat there together, drinking in the other's warmth and relishing it thoroughly. Then, Zagreus turned his head so he could rest his cheek properly against Patroclus' shoulder and peer up at him.

"Why do you bother with someone as messed up as me?" he asked.

"Messed up?"

Patroclus raised one eyebrow at him. Then, his face relaxed.

"Oh. Because of your diagnosis."

"I wish I could be just like anyone else," Zagreus whispered.

"You know, I thought the exact same thing when Achilles first told me he loved me," Patroclus responded, almost lost in thought. "I desperately wanted to be different for him. Better. Someone worthy of his love. But he said something to me once that kept me by his side even when I messed up."

Zagreus seemed to be nodding off now, but with the last of his strength, he asked, "What did he say?"

"He asked me why I wanted to be different when I could just wish for someone who loves me for being who I am," Patroclus answered after a long silence.

He woke to not one, but two warm bodies curled up beside him. Achilles had draped an extra blanket over Zagreus and was now comfortably snuggling into his husband's arms.

"Good morning. You missed work by two hours," he announced. "I called in sick for all of us."

Torn between being upset for having forgotten completely about at least taking his alarm clock with him and being glad over an extra free day, Patroclus stared down at him.

"Well. Nothing to change that anymore," he grumbled. "It would look weird for me to show up at work now."

"See? A good reason to stay home with us," Achilles promptly quipped and laid his head down on the pillow again with a sigh. "How rude of you two to disappear all night without me."

Zagreus, who had apparently only been dozing and not fully asleep, laughed softly.

"I really thought I could sleep here alone. Stupid of me, and petty. I'm sorry, Achilles. Sorry, Pat."

"You're the last person who has to apologize," Patroclus cut him off and stroked his hair. It was sticking up every which way. "I honestly should not have talked to you about the test results like I did. If anyone is to blame, it's me. So, I apologize to both of you for messing up like that yesterday night."

Achilles nodded generously, but Zagreus just quietly stared at Patroclus. He blinked.

"Anything wrong, lad?" Achilles asked after a moment. "It's okay if you've not entirely forgiven him yet, you know. He was pretty harsh on you."

"No, no, it's alright," Zagreus finally said. His tongue felt heavy and swollen in his mouth. "I just— You don't have to apologize to me, either, that's…"

This time, it was Patroclus' turn to look at him in bewilderment.

"I fucked up," he said bluntly. "Why should I not apologize for that?"

It clicked.

The exchange between Achilles and Patroclus was like a shared thought, popping into both of their heads all at once. A smoldering rage began to fill Patroclus' eyes. How little respect Zagreus had experienced in his life still infuriated him even now.

"We tend to say sorry in this household when it's appropriate," Achilles said quickly before his husband could even open his mouth, "and we'll say it to you, too, Zagreus. If we do or say something uncomfortable to you, it's not your fault for being upset – it's ours for saying or doing it in the first place, and we will apologize and try not to repeat it."

Zagreus did not respond. He stared at the wall for a long time. Even later, after lunch, while he was doing his homework by his desk, he was still rather absent-minded. Of course he should get a move on and finish what was due until Monday, but he just couldn't wrap his mind around a few of the new things in his life and they kept occupying his thoughts whether he wanted or not.

Like that, it was no wonder that he missed the clicking of a key being turned in the front door lock and steps entering, the dull thudding of a bag having been set down, the rustle of a coat, the muffled voice just outside his room bidding someone goodbye.

Then, the door was thrown open and he spun around with a sharp jerk of his shoulders.

Across from him stood a boy, maybe just a bit older than he was. His hair was strawberry-blond and curled itself in soft waves around his picture-pretty face. Beneath the few locks of it that had slipped from the black pins he'd used to hold it back flashed two jade-green eyes, cold and sharp.

Even if Zagreus had met him out on the streets, he wouldn't have doubted for a single second who the boy was.

"Father," Neoptolemus said loud enough for his voice to carry all the way down to the kitchen and living room, without ever taking his eyes off of Zagreus. They narrowed like the ones of a cat, drawing into tight slits. "What is it doing in my room?"

Chapter Text

It wasn't even Neoptolemus' voice that made Achilles freeze up.

Father.

He had not been called that in so long. This just spelled trouble. While he raced out into the hallway, his gaze caught on his wristwatch. It was barely four in the afternoon, usually Thetis—

His son was standing in the doorway to Zagreus' room, bristling with silent rage. Achilles was used to Neoptolemus not looking too happy about being here in the first place, but his sour expression surpassed any former amount of upset by far.

"Why did Mother bring you here already?" he asked sharply and wanted to reach for Neoptolemus' shoulder to pull him away from the door, but his son evaded the touch and stared at him, one hand raised to slap Achilles away.

"Do not touch me. She had an appointment. Who the fuck is this? Why the fuck is he in my room? What the fuck is happening here?"

"Language," Achilles hissed back and grasped Neoptolemus' wrist to push him back towards the front door. "Zagreus, come here."

Without uttering a word, Zagreus got up and fled to Achilles' side. His chest was heaving with unease. This was not a situation he'd expected to find himself in. Suddenly, his hand was taken and he jumped with a choked, panicked sound.

"Shh, lad. It's me. Not gonna hurt you, shh," Patroclus whispered and dragged him into the living room, shutting the door behind them both to leave Achilles outside with Neoptolemus.

"Pat, what's happening, what's going on, what—"

His voice cracked, nearly hysteric.

"It's Neo's weekend here with us. I forgot, I'm so sorry, I forgot. We should have thought about it earlier, we should have talked about it with you. Sorry again, I didn't mean to frighten you," Patroclus muttered and stared through the glass inserts of the door into the hallway outside.

He could only see blurred outlines, two people fighting. Their voices got louder and Patroclus raised both hands to press them onto Zagreus' ears, lifting his head slightly in the process.

"Look at me, lad," he whispered insistently and lightly shook Zagreus to get his attention. "Look only at me, okay? They're yelling, but I'm not letting anything happen to you, hear me? You're safe. You're with me. Nobody is going to hurt you."

Still shaking, still wide-eyed, Zagreus stared at him, but he gave a brief, stuttering nod. Patroclus stroked his cheeks and smiled a comforting smile down at him.

"Good. Good lad. You're safe. I'm here. And I'm never letting anyone hurt you, not ever again. Me and Achilles both, we're going to protect you, always. From everyone and everything."

With heaving chest, Zagreus fell against him, nodding deliriously. Patroclus only held him tighter for it. He wished he could join Achilles out in the hallway, give that spoiled brat a piece of his mind for scaring their son like that. Zagreus had been doing so good over the past two weeks and now Neoptolemus dared to barge into their lives and ruin it all in one fell swoop.

"Are you going to send me away now?" Zagreus panted weakly. "Are you going to make me leave you?"

Patroclus stared down at him in shock.

"Lad— No, lad, no! We're not sending you away, shh, calm down. You're staying with us, you're staying here. Neo can take the couch if he likes. This is your room and you're going to keep sleeping there, do you understand?"

Even with his reassurance, Zagreus only buried his face against his chest and said nothing more.

"How long has it been since you replaced me, Father?" Neoptolemus snarled, the redness of his throat sharp against his white teeth.

"I have never replaced you," Achilles said, forcing himself to be calm. "That would mean Zagreus took your role in this family. You never had one. You never wanted one. We offered it to you more often than I can count. I am still offering it to you now. You can still be my son. Yet until now, you always chose not to be."

Hackles raised, Neoptolemus stepped back. He had taken his bag off the ground again, looking like he was ready to turn around and run. Achilles felt sickened by how much he wished the boy would just leave. Leave them alone. Leave here and stay with Thetis, forever. He knew it was wrong. Neoptolemus needed him right now, and still, he did not want to need him. Just how much more difficult could his own child get? Achilles regarded him with desperation.

"Neo—"

"Pyrrhus!" Neoptolemus screamed back at him. His knuckles around the belt of his bag had gone white. "I don't want this fucked-up name, I don't want to have anything to do with you and that whore who—"

The hand that grasped his arm cut off his words.

"Do not," Achilles hissed as his grip tightened and tightened until it had to be painful, "talk about your mother like that. She does not deserve what happened to her."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have fucked her!" Neoptolemus howled and trashed in his grip. "It's your fault, it's all your fault! I didn't ask to be fucking born! I didn't ask to have a whore as a mother and a fucking queer as a father who cares more about sucking cock than about me!"

He finally managed to free himself from Achilles and stumbled backwards against the front door. Tears were slipping down his face now, hot and angry. He sobbed. All the hatred for his son Achilles had felt raging within him just moments before fizzled out like a wet matchstick, the ember of it refusing to spark.

He reached out gentle hands to touch the boy's cheeks, wipe the tears from them, and comfort him.

"Neo," he whispered pityingly. "Neo, I do care. You just wouldn't let me. Let me care for you now, please."

For a second – for a split second, it almost looked like Neoptolemus would give in. Then, he was already jerking back with a sickened grimace.

"No!" he sobbed and rubbed his face with the sleeve of his coat. "No, stay away from me! You disgust me, you bastard! Go care for that fucker you thought would make a better son than me! Maybe he'll turn out just as sick and perverted as you are, wouldn't you like that? That's what you wanted for me, I know that!"

And with that, he was gone. The bag had dropped from his trembling fingers and Achilles could do nothing but watch. He didn't try to stop the boy from running, he knew it wouldn't do any good. Neoptolemus could simply go back to Thetis. He knew the way, he had money on him. He always had.

Achilles turned.

The living room door had been opened. Patroclus stood in the doorway, Zagreus' back was pressed tightly against his chest. They both were looking at him.

"Love, I'm so sorry you had to listen to that," Achilles said weakly.

"He thinks I replaced him."

"He does."

"Did I?"

Achilles smiled and combed his hair back to lovingly gaze down at him.

"No, Zagreus. I don't know how much you heard, but I already told Neo – you couldn't be his replacement if you tried, because there is nothing to replace. For all those years, he was the kid we watched once a month, nothing more. You? Gods, lad. You're our son. We couldn't imagine you being gone."

As if in silent agreement, Patroclus squeezed his hand and Zagreus lowered his head slightly as his cheeks flushed.

"I'm going to call Mother. Just to make sure Neo made it home safe. Who knows what kind of trouble he could get himself into in his state," Achilles said over Zagreus' shoulder, addressing Patroclus. "You'll wait for me?"

"We will," his husband answered softly.

Even with Neoptolemus gone, Zagreus couldn't bring himself to sleep that night.

He'd heard Patroclus and Achilles talking for most of the evening, then their voices had ceased. He'd never been bothered much by silence – silence had always been superior to his father's screaming or Nyx' crying – but he preferred to listen to them speak while he fell asleep. He always felt lulled in when he heard Achilles' soft, vibrant voice or Patroclus' deep, warm baritone on the other side of the wall. Safe. Protected. Zagreus knew he would only need to call them and they'd come.

The first time he'd stopped being afraid of Patroclus in the dark, where his brain could still trick him into seeing his father instead, was after he had shot up in bed from a nightmare, screaming their names, and Patroclus had been the first by his side. Angry, yes, and ready to hurt someone. Not Zagreus, never Zagreus. But he'd been ready to defend him from anyone, from anything.

He understood why Achilles would prefer Patroclus over anyone else in the world, and vice versa.

Zagreus had never met anyone – though, granted, he had not met many people yet – so devoted and loving as the two of them.

And yet—

Wasn't it wrong? At first, he had not understood what his father found so revolting about Thanatos sleeping beside him to calm him from his bad dreams. Then, while Nyx had patched up his bleeding head wound as best as she could, she had told him in a hushed voice that men were not supposed to share a bed, that something like that was reserved for husbands and wives. He had asked her whether she shared a bed with his father and that had made her cry even more. She had said that people were not forgiving towards men who chose other men over women, or women who chose other women over men.

It seemed to him that she had been right.

He'd heard Neoptolemus. Had heard him use the words 'sick' and 'perverted'. Maybe that was how others saw it too, this beautiful love that Achilles and Patroclus shared. Zagreus couldn't imagine his mother and father ever being anything like that – standing in the kitchen preparing a meal together, barefoot, laughing, kissing when they had to wait for a pan to heat up or a pot of water to start boiling. Playfighting on the couch, wrestling, giggling, acting like children who'd never quite grown up. Casually holding each other's hands; Patroclus running his thumb tenderly over Achilles' knuckles again and again while they watched TV, Achilles drawing little circles on Patroclus' palm, both of them smiling when their gazes met on accident.

How could a love so radiant and sweet be anything but right?

Sometimes, at night, he heard them.

It was unavoidable, really; the walls were not thick. Zagreus had never minded. He was the one intruding upon their space. They had nothing to be ashamed of and no consideration to show – there was still an apartment across the hall Zagreus could sleep in if he felt bothered by anything. Still, he tried to blend them out. It was an intimacy nobody was supposed to be part of other than the two of them.

The only thing he could not help when he lay awake and stared at the ceiling was the perpetually returning question of whether Thanatos and he would be just as happy. Needing nothing but one another to feel like they'd found their place, their family.

Maybe they would share a bed, then, too. Maybe he would wake up resting on Thanatos' chest just like Achilles did each morning with Patroclus. Maybe they would hold each other just as gently. Maybe Thanatos would step up behind him in the kitchen and wrap his arms around him too just to hear him laugh or see him smile.

But then he remembered the dullness of Thanatos' eyes when he'd told him he hated him and went to sleep pulling the blankets over his head.

Chapter Text

"You're a bit distracted lately," Patroclus said over lunch.

It was his day off and Zagreus' classes had ended at noon today. Achilles was working and the two of them were comfortably situated by the dining room table. Zagreus only gave a noncommittal little noise in return.

"Care to tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. Just… thinking a lot, I guess."

Dark grey eyes threw him a scrutinizing glare.

"Good thoughts?"

"Not always," Zagreus admitted and pushed his plate away. His fingers were clammy and damp with sweat as he traced the grain of the wooden tabletop.

Patroclus regarded him for a few moments, then he leaned back in his chair as well. For a bit, they sat there – Zagreus looking at the table, Patroclus looking at him. Then, the latter stood up, strangely graceful, as Zagreus always found. There was something about Patroclus and his every movement that reminded him of a big cat, something smooth and balanced.

"I'm going swimming later. Do you want to come? Or are you staying here?"

"If you see to it that I don't drown. I can't really say I learned how to swim, being stuck inside for seventeen years and all that."

A light twitch ran through Patroclus' shoulders as he cleared the table.

"Sorry. I forget sometimes."

"It's okay," Zagreus said with a smile. "Now, I sometimes forget too."

At this hour of the day, the indoor pool was empty. Most people were at work, children at school. Zagreus ran his hands over the strangely unfamiliar fabric of the shorts Patroclus had gotten him from Achilles' closet. He'd never worn anything like this before and he'd never been out in public with so little clothing on, either. When Patroclus stepped towards him, clad only in a similar pair of shorts as well, his gaze dropped briefly and his face hardened so viciously at the sight that Zagreus took a step back.

"What happened to you?"

Zagreus pulled up his shoulders and didn't respond.

"Sit down."

The boy complied and slumped down on one of the benches in the changing room. Patroclus knelt before him and took one of his legs, carefully, almost as if the scars would break open again at his touch. The burn wounds were old – almost older than Zagreus could remember. Ever since he could think, he'd had them. All the way up his ankles, they snaked ugly tendrils of purplish-red welts around his feet, flecked with white here and there, uneven and drawing his skin taut in places.

"Was it your father?"

"I only remember sitting on the edge of the bathtub for days with Nyx next to me while she filled the tub with more cold water every hour or so," Zagreus said with a faint smile. "I think he tried to roast me over the fireplace or something."

"I'll just assume that sort of grim humor is one of your healthier coping mechanisms for now," Patroclus muttered, gently stroking the scars. "Do they give you any discomfort?"

Zagreus shrugged slightly.

"Not really. They feel… tight sometimes. Hot. But nothing more," he said.

"I'll get you some lotion for them. It should help them turn softer so they won't tug at the healthy skin as much. For now, let's see to it that you don't drown on my watch, don't you think?"

With a gentle smile, he stood back up and led Zagreus down a long, tiled hallway to the gigantic hall covered in glass.

It took a while for the boy to get used to the water, but he found it was the most fun he'd had in a long time. Patroclus kept an eye on him for most of the time, but when he found that the boy was an absolute natural at swimming, he gradually relaxed. With the entire pool to themselves, they had enough time and space to just enjoy their free afternoon together.

"Pat?" Zagreus asked while he drifted on his back, arms spread out, eyes closed. His voice echoed from the warm glass ceiling.

"Yeah?"

"Why do people think it's wrong? Like, what's going on between Achilles and you, I mean. And… that with Than and me, I suppose."

Patroclus, who was resting his elbows on the edge of the pool and thoughtfully watched him, didn't answer right away. He turned the golden wedding band on his finger.

"Did someone say something to you?" he asked then.

"No. I was just thinking."

"That's what you're thinking about all this time?"

It felt almost like an admonishment. If he had been back in his father's house, Zagreus would've probably flinched at it. Now, he just opened his eyes and watched the grey clouds overhead. Maybe it would rain soon. He knew rain. Sometimes he'd hidden in the attic and there, the sound of water pattering onto the roof was loudest. Despite his fear, the rain had always lulled him to sleep eventually when he was curled up between dusty cardboard boxes in a corner.

"Mostly. Not just, but mostly. I just don't understand," he said with a frown. "Why would anyone think it's bad how much you love Achilles and how much he loves you? What difference would it make if you loved a woman instead?"

Patroclus thought for a long while. His own father and Thetis had always disagreed with his love for Achilles.

"Maybe it's because some people think the only purpose in life is having children, and consequently it's wrong for a man to pass up the opportunity to be with a woman."

"But Achilles has a child."

"I do too," Patroclus teased and splashed Zagreus, making the boy squeak in surprise before he retaliated, laughing. "But that's irrelevant to those who hate people like me. For some reason they think if gay people have kids, those kids will also be gay and eventually there will be so many gay people that nobody wants to have kids anymore."

Zagreus rolled over onto his back again with a sigh.

"But that'll never happen. It's stupid to even think that. Some men will always like women better, won't they?"

"Of course," Patroclus replied. "Some like both, some like neither. But those people just can't imagine or accept anyone who is different from them."

He smiled gently when Zagreus scrunched up his nose, deep in thought.

"How did you know you liked men?"

Laughing, Patroclus pushed him and Zagreus fell back with a shout, dragging the man along. They both were pulled underwater and when they emerged, they were both breathless.

"I wouldn't know, to be honest. I like Achilles. And that's how it's always been," Patroclus said thoughtfully. "But I imagine it's similar to that. I can't think of loving anyone except for Achilles. Perhaps others can't think of loving anyone except for another man."

Zagreus thought of loving anyone except for Thanatos and found his mind empty. He tried to imagine Megaera – she had been about his age, going in and out of the house alongside Thanatos when they were all older – or Hypnos, Automedon or Antilochus. Their picture conjured up none of the sweet ache that filled his chest when he thought about the boy with the silvery hair and ashen skin, the hidden smile and flickering golden eyes.

"Have… have other people said things about you and Achilles too? Not just Neoptolemus, I mean."

"Oh. Of course. My father, for example," Patroclus said, knocking his head back. "And Achilles' mother. And a few others too. But you can't let that get to you; it can't be helped. Neoptolemus is spending too much time with the wrong crowd if you ask me. If he or someone ever says something to you about it, the best you can do is walk away from them. Most people like that are just looking for a fight, so don't worry about it. No matter who you bring home to us, Achilles and I will always have room for the both of you. Just love who you think is right for you, someone who makes you happy."

Zagreus beamed up at him like unfiltered sunshine on a summer day.

"Will do."

He remembered the day vaguely as a Wednesday, only because Wednesday was the only day of the week when his morning classes started two hours late and he could usually sleep in late to take the bus after Patroclus and Achilles had already left for work.

Automedon and Antilochus caught him after his rhetoric class and dragged him off to get lunch in town, so he didn't get a chance to see Achilles during break, only when afternoon class let out at five. Together, the entire pack of Myrmidons stormed the main building, all of them vibrating with excitement to get down to the gym. Achilles had signed them up for a national volleyball tournament and they were training hard for it. When it got warmer in spring, Automedon explained on their way over to the large swing doors that led to the staircase, they could use the outside facilities as well. Zagreus couldn't wait to spend his summer evenings with the rest of class out playing volleyball and having fun.

To their surprise, they found a piece of paper taped to the doors.

Antilochus, who was walking up front, stopped abruptly and without warning. The rest crashed into him one by one until they all stood there, rubbing various aching body parts as they complained about the sudden mass pile-up.

"What's wrong?" Zagreus asked, fighting himself towards the door to get a look at what was written there. He recognized Achilles' handwriting, but it looked rushed and a little scrawly with impatience.

"Achilles left us a message, apparently," Antilochus said as he plucked the paper from where it hung and began reading out loud so everyone could hear. "Sorry boys, I got an urgent call. Won't be back until at least half-past five. If you behave, you can go downstairs by yourselves. Zagreus, please take attendance for me in the meantime. Don't get hurt or do anything stupid. See you later."

He lowered the note down. The rest of the team was looking at each other, a bit befuddled. Achilles had never left them all alone until now. Zagreus felt for the phone in his pocket. An urgent call – could anything have happened to Patroclus? Lately, there were a lot of hospital staff falling ill and Patroclus had picked up every shift he could to compensate for the absence of his colleagues. Achilles was worried sick about him. Cold sweat began to soak Zagreus' palms as he quickly shot Achilles and Patroclus both a brief text asking whether they were alright. It only occurred to him on their way down that he wouldn't have any signal three stories below ground.

Well, he couldn't keep standing around alone up here either. Might as well join the others. Achilles had wanted him to take attendance, so he followed the rest of the Myrmidons downstairs and got changed into his uniform. While the team started setting up an exercise parkour, he noted down who was participating and put the finished list in Achilles' office for when he got back.

Still wondering what that urgent call might have been about, Zagreus jogged over to Antilochus and helped him to carry some of the equipment out of the storage room across the hall. While he still fumbled with the belt that held some of the net poles up against the wall, he suddenly felt a light touch to his shoulder and flinched.

"Zag," Antilochus whispered, "did Achilles say something about new students to you?"

His voice sounded pressed. Zagreus turned to face him.

"Not that I know of, no," he said, a bit confused. "Why are you asking? Did someone come?"

Maybe that had been the thing Achilles had needed to take care of? He threw a glance at the iron-bar-protected clock beneath the windows high up on the wall. Barely ten minutes had passed, it was nowhere near half-past five. Could Achilles be back already? Lips pressed together into a tight, white line, Antilochus nodded towards the main entrance to the gym and Zagreus followed his gaze there.

His throat tightened so badly at the sight that he barely managed to breathe. Lungs fluttering uselessly, his chest heaved. He remembered talking about this with Patroclus not too long ago.

Walking away from this situation would prove a bit difficult, though, seen as there were about five people efficiently blocking the exit while one of them broke away from the pack and strode across the gym. His hair flashed like blood-smeared gold in the glow from the fluorescent neon lights above.

"You see, I never quite caught your name. But knowing my bastard of a father, I'm sure he dragged you down here with the rest of his little queer gang," Neoptolemus' voice boomed through the entire hall. "Lucky me that he's so predictable, wouldn't you say?"

His grin turned murderous when he spotted Zagreus by the door of the equipment room.

Chapter Text

Achilles had barely set one foot over the threshold to the university's main building when he froze.

Agamemnon, Odysseus, and a few other staff members had gathered in the foyer. Their agitated voices rang in his ears like chiming bells for a moment before he could shake the sudden paralysis off and stride forward. A sinking feeling filled his stomach, like he'd just dropped down from a great height.

"What happened? Did something happen with my boys?" he demanded, trembling.

Agamemnon stared at him, mouth opening for a no doubt spiteful response, when Odysseus beat him to it.

"Yeah, it's about your class," he said quietly. "Come on, this way. They're all up front in the nurse's office."

Cold shock burned through every single one of Achilles' veins.

"Are they hurt?"

"For the most part only bruises, so far no recorded deaths," Odysseus answered with his usual dry humor and followed when Achilles nearly sprinted down the hall.

"I told them to be careful, I told them not to do something stupid," he muttered feverishly, more to himself than to anyone as he reached for the door handle.

"It's less their fault than someone else's. We're still trying to figure out how security missed six people who don't belong here sneaking onto campus," Odysseus replied.

Achilles burst into the room. Immediately, his gaze fell upon Zagreus sitting on a chair nearby, seemingly calm enough. Black, relieved vertigo sent Achilles' thoughts spiraling while he rushed to the boy's side.

"Gods, lad, what happened?" he asked hectically. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay, Achilles, don't worry," Zagreus responded, his voice level and easy.

"What happened, by the Gods, will someone just tell me?" Achilles hissed, looking over his shoulder at Odysseus and Agamemnon before his gaze finally wandered through the room before him.

Spread out on beds and chairs was the rest of the afternoon class and some older boys he didn't recognize. Most of them were silently avoiding his eyes, holding cooled gel packs against various bruises and sprained joints. Here and there, parents who lived nearby had apparently been called in and were now quietly and angrily talking to their children.

"What happened?" he demanded again.

"We won't know for sure until one of the brats finally starts talking," Agamemnon snapped. "They're all playing dumb and deaf. Didn't get a word out of any of them yet."

Achilles allowed himself a second to take in Zagreus' face. A broad, stark-white bandage had been taped over the left side of his forehead and he was a little pale, but nothing grave, it seemed.

"How considerate of you to finally show up and keep that brat of yours in check. I am grateful that at least some of the staff in this… facility are responsible enough to check on unsupervised students, or they would have done who knows what to Neoptolemus."

The voice, cold as ice and just as sharp, cut the air like a knife. Achilles didn't need to look up to know who was talking – if not by her choice of words, he would have recognized Thetis by the noticeable lack of complaints from his son upon being called by his name. Only she was allowed to do that without rude vocal repercussion. Sneaking a hesitant glance at Neoptolemus, he saw that his son was hunched over on a chair nearby, face obscured by the way he was sitting. A pang of desperate desire to get up and embrace him overcame Achilles, but then again, Neoptolemus would never let him. So, Achilles just smoothed his thumbs over Zagreus' cheeks and lightly turned his head from side to side to check if his neck was alright. His gaze was transfixed upon the bandage.

"Are you much hurt, lad? Did they check you properly?"

Of course his mother didn't take well to being dismissed like that.

"You best direct your attention where it is needed, Achilles. Neoptolemus is far worse off than this brat."

She was shaking with rage, Achilles could see that even from the corner of his eye. Unfortunately, he still didn't understand what was going on.

"Who attacked whom here, kids? I am at quite a loss, to be honest," another father suddenly interrupted, obviously impatient. "I would like to have this situation resolved as quickly as possible, I have to get back to work."

"We'll have to settle it now," Odysseus sighed. "All we know thus far is that six upperclassmen from another university somehow got onto our campus and decided to pick a fight with our freshmen. Specifically this little group here."

"Do we have any critical casualties?" Achilles asked, letting his gaze rake over his students for the first time. They seemed to have gotten their fair share, but all in all looked pretty chipper considering the circumstances.

Odysseus shook his head. "No physical ones, anyway. Does anyone have anything to say, boys?"

Silence.

Then, Automedon slowly lifted his head. His jaw was already turning an ugly purplish-yellow hue and he obviously had trouble speaking, but he did, gaze fixed on the floor.

"We just tried to keep them away from Zag. They had it out for him."

Achilles stared at him, then at the intruders across the room. They were at least two heads taller and twice as heavy as anyone on the team – and still his boys had decided to hold their ground. Pride was a very bad advisor. Then again, he felt like a hypocrite for even thinking that.

"Well, they probably didn't go after him for no reason," Diomedes, one of the present teachers, drawled. He was leaning against the wall nearby and regarding the entire room with disdain.

"All right," Agamemnon said, taking aim at the intruders. "So, we have a bunch of our freshmen against the six of you. What did you have to do with each other?"

"Nothing," one of the older boys muttered, not meeting the headmaster's eyes.

"Nothing at all," repeated another one stubbornly.

Sighing, Agamemnon turned towards Zagreus and the rest of the Myrmidons. "What did they do?"

"We were preparing for class like we always do in the afternoon and they just barged in all of a sudden," Automedon said weakly. "Then that bastard over there—" Thetis tensed when he pointed at Neoptolemus – "started insulting Zag and hit him. We told him to fuck off and leave us alone, but he wouldn't."

"And that is all the reason this brat needs for breaking his nose?" exclaimed Thetis, furiously glaring at Zagreus. The golden bands on her arm clinked softly when she pulled Neoptolemus closer to her. Only now, Achilles caught a glimpse of his son. He was bleeding profusely, as it seemed, and the front of his expensive shirt was stained with red. Panicked, Achilles straightened up.

"Zag didn't do anything wrong, those assholes fucking started it!" Antilochus chimed in aggressively. "They literally showed up and started threatening him out of the blue!"

"Eight against six, that doesn't really seem like you were at a disadvantage there," a mother of one of the other boys hissed.

"Everyone, calm down right now or we'll have to solve this differently," Odysseus said and lifted both hands. "Threatening him how?"

The room fell silent again. Achilles watched as wordless glances were being exchanged. His boys all seemed reluctant to voice what had happened and Odysseus was getting visibly irritated, but then his eyes suddenly darkened with pleasure and even the hint of a smile began to tug at his lips.

"You can tell us," he said softly to nobody in particular. "The faster we know what happened, the faster we can see to it that those who started this entire thing get a fair retribution. It's okay, boys, spit it out already."

At that, he looked directly towards Zagreus with his warmest, most reassuring smile. The boy looked back at him, hesitantly, it seemed. Achilles, who was standing behind him and holding his shoulders, just wanted to tell Odysseus to leave him be, when Zagreus suddenly lowered his gaze to the floor and began to talk. It was really more of a whisper. Everyone leaned forward to hear him better.

"I never quite caught your name, knowing my bastard of a father I'm sure he dragged you down here with the rest of his little queer gang, he's so predictable wouldn't you say, do you really want me to make you spit out your teeth one by one, do you know how sick you and all those fags here make me, you think I don't know you probably suck my father's cock every night, get away from him or do you want my fist down your throat too you maggot, why don't you say something, are you too stupid, someone fuck your brain out your ass or what, you get off on hanging out with all those sissy boys don't you, get out of our way or you're fucking dead, you think you can take us, got yourself a pretty harem there don't you, do you let them fuck you after school or why do they all like you so much, come here and get it if you dare."

After that toneless recitation, silence reigned for the time being. Zagreus' face remained motionless. Achilles knew if he let go of him now, he'd walk across the room and personally break Neoptolemus' nose a second time. He felt sick to the stomach.

"Is he autistic?" someone asked.

"No, he just has a very good memory," Odysseus said.

"I am shocked," one of the mothers exclaimed, staring at her son. "Did you really say all that?"

"No," Neoptolemus blurted out in his stead. His nose had temporarily stopped bleeding but his face was still flushed and his hands sticky with drying blood.

The rest of his friends slowly nodded, still staring at Zagreus in something like silent awe.

"This is outrageous," Agamemnon declared. "You illegally gain access to our campus and then you even have the gall to harass our freshmen like that? This will have serious legal consequences. We are immediately filing complaints against all of the aggressors here."

"Aggressors?" one father asked. "They're boys, they go overboard sometimes."

"They were uttering some seriously homophobic insults and they obviously didn't hesitate to get physical either. This isn't just a trivial offense," Odysseus retorted. "I think we can safely say this was self-defense on our part. The boys were just trying to protect one of their friends."

Neoptolemus obviously attempted to protest but doubled over with a pained moan instead. Thetis held him upright and handed him another paper tissue when a fresh trickle of blood started oozing over his split lip.

"That's still no reason to break my son's nose," she snapped.

"All of the boys in my class are younger and physically at a disadvantage," Achilles snarled back, yet his gaze lingered on Neoptolemus. "The fact that they managed to fend off six people all at once is probably a lucky coincidence."

"My colleagues and I will consider what consequences this incident will have for our own students," Agamemnon cut them off sternly. "We will register the names of everyone present here and contact the police as well as campus security on this matter. We have never had cases of such massive discrimination at our university before today."

Some parents grumbled, but they did start leading their sons out to the front office where Diomedes directed them so they could put their name and contact information down. The only ones who stayed back were Achilles, a few of the boys from afternoon class, and Thetis with Neoptolemus, who was bleeding too badly by now to get up. Thetis had insisted to call an ambulance and they were just waiting to be picked up.

Refusing to even look at her, Achilles turned to Zagreus.

"Gods, lad, I'm so sorry," he said, tears burning in his eyes. "I should never have left, this is all my fault."

"Where were you?" Zagreus asked. "Why did you leave us alone today?"

"Pat fainted. They say he's completely overworked because he's been picking up all those extra shifts lately. I went to get him. He said he'd wait in the car and take a nap there until afternoon class was over and we could all go home together."

The door opened before he had finished talking.

"Achilles! There's an ambulance outside and I—"

Patroclus stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze flickering from Zagreus' head injury to the rest of the bruised and battered students, then to Neoptolemus and Thetis. She had straightened and tensed at his arrival. Her eyes were nothing but scornful.

"What the hell happened? Did he hurt you, Zagreus?" Patroclus asked sharply while he regarded the blood-soaked collar of Neoptolemus' shirt. "I do hope if he did, you were the one who punched him back."

Thetis' lips twisted into a disapproving grimace.

"I see now why this brat of yours is so prone to violence."

"Zagreus is not prone to violence," said Achilles.

"I am," said Patroclus, looking every bit like he meant it.

There was a firm knock on the door and two paramedics in bright yellow vests entered. While one of them went straight for Neoptolemus to check on him, the other made a quick trip across the room to make sure none of the other boys needed immediate medical attention.

"I want to go home," Zagreus said a little shakily.

"So do I," Achilles responded and held him closer.

"Sorry, Zag," Automedon muttered and hissed quietly when the paramedic felt along his jaw. "Think we bit off more than we could chew there."

Despite his injury, he managed a wry smile. Zagreus looked back at him, then at the floor between them.

"You don't have to apologize for anything," he said quietly. "I'm sorry for dragging you into all this with me. If I hadn't been there, they would've left you alone."

The entire group started to protest at that.

"As if we'd just stand by and let them say shit like that to you," Antilochus said, appalled. "We did get the better of them, didn't we? You're a Myrmidon and we stick together, fuck everyone else."

Chapter Text

"So you're on leave now?"

"Officially, yes. For a week, at least," Patroclus said softly while he unrolled a new, clean stretch of bandages. "Any pain in the back of your neck? Can you turn your head or does it hurt?"

Zagreus experimentally shrugged his shoulders and let his head drop to the side before sitting back up straight.

"No. All good."

He allowed his lids to slide shut when Patroclus gently dabbed a cotton swab drenched in disinfectant across the shallow cut above his brow and laid a sterile gauze over it before starting to fasten it with the bandages.

"Closing your eyes with me now?" Patroclus asked quietly as he dug through the box filled with first aid supplies by his side for a clip to keep the bandages in place. "Am I that scary?"

"Hmm… No. I just trust you," Zagreus said with a smile as he waited to be dismissed and didn't notice the tender look he was given.

He was sitting on the edge of the bathtub with Patroclus kneeling between his legs, dressing his wound back up after he had removed the first makeshift bandaging, while Achilles brushed his teeth by the sink across from them. They all looked forward to just crawling into bed and falling asleep for tonight.

"There we go. I'll see to it tomorrow morning again, but it's really not that deep. Looks worse than it is, actually. Still, take some aspirin before you lie down so you won't wake up with a headache," Patroclus said at last and patted Zagreus' thigh before he straightened up and stashed the first aid box back into its respective closet.

"Thank you, doctor," Zagreus joked weakly and jumped to his feet.

Before he could leave the bathroom, his wrist was suddenly caught in a warm, slender hand. With an inquisitive hum, he turned to look at Achilles, who was just wiping his face with a towel before he dropped it over the edge of the marble counter and pulled Zagreus back inside with them.

"I'm so sorry Neo did and said all those things to you today. I know he seems like a bad person and I'm glad he got a wake-up call, but you have to understand that he's just scared," he muttered. "My mother… accepts nothing but perfection. He's scared to mess up, that's why he hates to be here. I'm like a reminder to him of what happens when you go against my mother. If he ever told her that he doesn't have a problem with people being gay, she'd probably kick him out like she did with me and he would be too proud to come here live with us since he'd blame us for everything again. That's why he goes to the extreme like that – just to prove to her that he's sharing her opinions, that he's worthy of her love."

Zagreus looked at him for a long time, then he nodded, but it still seemed hesitant.

"I get it. But I don't think I forgive him just yet."

"Me neither," Patroclus said as he leaned over to give him a brief goodnight kiss. "Stay at large from that kid if you can manage. And if he doesn't stay away from you, tell me. I've been wanting to give him a piece of my mind ever since we started taking him in once a month and he kept insulting Achilles all the time."

They should have long since been asleep, but neither Achilles nor Patroclus could calm down enough to even think about closing their eyes. Even so, they were silent. Then, Achilles sat up. The bedsheets pooled around his hips and he rubbed his face with an exhausted sigh.

"Do you think he'll get over it?"

"He doesn't seem as shaken as I thought he'd be," Patroclus responded darkly. His gaze remained fixated on the ceiling above.

Achilles looked at him for a moment and a weak smile began to pull on the corners of his lips.

"Still imagining Neo's death there, Philtatos?"

His husband turned to look at him for only a split second, then he went straight back to staring at the ceiling.

"You have no idea."

"I'm—"

Before he could utter another syllable, a slender finger pressed against his mouth to cut him off. Surprised, Achilles stopped.

"Don't apologize. Not a single thing of what happened today was your fault. If anyone's, it's your mother's. I just hate to think that she probably even praised him for what he did. This boy is growing up to be a danger to society and himself."

"So you're worried about Neo?" Achilles asked quietly and pulled his knees up to his chest.

"Much as I hate him, yes. I think he needs help. If he'd accept it, we could see to it that he finally gets those twisted world views out of his head, but he makes it increasingly difficult for me to even want to do that," Patroclus replied. "Until now, all we had to deal with was his attitude that one weekend a month, and even then, it was just us. We're two grown men, we can handle him. But if he starts going after Zagreus now…"

They both fell silent for a moment.

"He's scared, Pat," Achilles said into the quiet darkness. "And I'm scared for him."

Something was wrong.

Consciousness began to ebb back into Zagreus like the returning summer tide and he sat up in bed, drowsy and sleep-dazed. It took him a while before he realized that it was his own breath turning the frigid air from his lungs into the soft, white fog that hung before him. Ragged, shallow gasps dispersed into the cold darkness of his room.

Calm down, he found himself thinking over and over like a mantra, calm down, calm down, calm down.

His fingers searched for the protective warmth of Thanatos beside him, the outlines of his so familiar body between silken sheets, their embrace he could simply sink into for comfort. When he came up empty-handed, his voice burst into a distressed outcry.

Zagreus frantically began to tear at the blankets around him, but they only tangled themselves around his limbs, restricting him even more the harder he fought to get them off. Panic gripped him with a devastating suddenness.

"Than!" he screamed, his eyes darting left and right as the sheets tightened around him like a vice, trying to restrain him.

Where was Thanatos? Why wasn't he helping him? Where had he gone in the middle of the night?

Was it night?

Zagreus couldn't be sure. The room was black, pitch-black, not a single silhouette of any furniture met his erratic gaze. His legs hurt from where the blankets were cutting into them, his arm was painfully wrenched onto his back, and suddenly, Zagreus found himself launched from this shapeless abyss back to the soft glow of his bedside lamp and a heavy weight half on top of him.

"Stop it already!" someone panted with effort right by his ear. "You're going to get yourself hurt, Zagreus!"

The crawling sensation from the sheets against his bare legs turned into the gentle friction of silk, the freezing air was warm and breathable, and the familiar body beside him soothed Zagreus into a strange stillness. Only the painful grip on his arm lingered for a moment before Patroclus sat up and released his wrist. His thumb apologetically rubbed the small bruise he had left on Zagreus' forearm.

"Gods, you scared us. You were just having a nightmare, Zagreus, it was just a nightmare."

Zagreus didn't respond. He just curled up beneath Patroclus, silent and not moving a single muscle. The man scowled. He and Achilles had woken up to screams from across the hall. Thinking Zagreus was calling for them, they'd rushed to his room and had found him crying out for someone else. In his first panic, all Patroclus had been able to do was restrain the trashing boy before he accidentally injured either of them.

"Zagreus?" he whispered and leaned down to turn the boy's face towards him.

Those vivid, mismatched eyes that usually betrayed every little emotion were dull now, staring far away into a place Patroclus couldn't even fathom. He bit his lip and ran the back of his hand down Zagreus' cheek. His gaze sought out Achilles, who stood by the door, enveloped in a halo of golden light from the hallway.

"We are here with you. You're safe, love," he whispered as he turned back to Zagreus. "Nothing can happen to you, okay?"

"Pat."

The soft call from the doorway made him look up again. Achilles was leaning against the wall there, arms crossed. He looked tired.

"I'm staying here with him. Go back to bed."

When Zagreus woke up the next morning half an hour before they were supposed to leave, he was surprised to find Achilles fast asleep beside him on the desk chair that he'd apparently moved over.

"Achilles?" he muttered, dragging himself into a sitting position. Despite the aspirin from yesterday evening, his head ached.

Hearing his voice, Achilles stirred and his eyes opened. Upon seeing Zagreus, he gave him a soft smile and stretched with a yawn.

"Good morning, lad. How are you doing today?" he asked before he leaned over and gently ruffled Zagreus' hair. "You had us really worried last night."

"Worried?" the boy asked, still sleepy. "Why?"

"You don't remember? You had a nightmare – almost hurt yourself. Pat could just so get you to calm down. We didn't want to leave you alone after that. Yesterday was probably a bit much for you after all," Achilles replied and stroked his cheek.

Without hesitation, Zagreus moved into the loving touch, resting his head heavily in Achilles' palm. Vaguely, he remembered now, but only that he'd been scared. That he had been alone.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have stayed here. Must've been uncomfortable."

"It was, but I would've hated myself if I'd just gone to bed after seeing you like that. Let's get up now, hm? We could both use a shower and I think Pat wants to have a look at your head before we're off to school."

Over breakfast, Zagreus found out that everyone involved in the accident from yesterday had been called to give their statement to the secretary.

"I told them you were of age already. Your birthday will be soon anyway," Achilles said tentatively, "and now I hope they won't look into it too much. If there's any trouble coming from this whole story, I'm skinning Neo alive."

"You've got an accomplice for that right next to you," Patroclus mumbled without looking up. "I'm coming with you today."

Zagreus tried, but he really couldn't take one more bite after that. He was silent on their whole car ride to campus and when Achilles ushered him into the front office, more than ever he just felt the urge to spin around and run, just like he'd done that night he'd snuck out of his father's house through the door someone had forgotten to close.

The secretary seemed to be busy with another student as of right now, so Achilles, Patroclus, and Zagreus hung back for a moment and just basked in the comfort of being inside after the freezing temperatures outside, talking quietly among themselves. The boy currently standing by the front desk had bundled up for the weather too, with an elegant dark coat that fell down nearly to his knees, hood pulled over his head, hands covered in black gloves.

"Please, just this once. It's very important."

His voice seemed to tremble, almost as if he were close to crying yet still did his best to staunch the tears.

"I'm sorry, but we are not allowed to simply give out information about our students to anyone without a proper reason or permit," the secretary said apologetically and lifted one hand from the keyboard of her computer in a helpless gesture. "Maybe if you happen to see the one you're looking for on campus, you can talk to him personally, but I am obliged to tell you that you have no right to be on school grounds right now. Security might remove you. There was a little incident yesterday and they do spontaneous controls on everyone on campus now."

The boy's shoulders tightened and he raised them, tensing every muscle of his back to hide the jolt that ran through him.

"It's… it's fine. Thank you, anyway. Sorry for taking up your time."

He turned, already reaching to adjust his hood and the soft, grey scarf he wore around his neck, and froze.

So did Zagreus, Achilles realized belatedly.

Before them stood a young man, maybe just a little older than Zagreus himself. His face was ashen, and deep, dark circles had permanently burned themselves under his eyes. If Zagreus had looked sleep-deprived when Achilles had first seen him, then this boy right here seemed to balance a knife's edge on whether to simply drop dead from exhaustion or fall into a coma and sleep for seven years straight to recuperate all the rest he'd been missing out on lately.

"Zag!" the stranger stuttered, eyes wide, and that was all he needed to say to have Zagreus flying into his arms with a choked scream.

Chapter Text

"Than!" Zagreus screamed at the top of his lungs, nearly knocking the other boy over as he climbed up into his arms, burying his face in the stranger's scarf. "Than, Than, you came!"

Like his whole body had gone into shock, the young man just stood there. Then, suddenly, his hands shot up.

"Zag, Gods, Zag!" he whimpered, feverishly pressing his cheek against Zagreus' neck, grabbing thick fistfuls of his hair to bring him in closer. "Oh Gods, I thought… Zag, please, please, Zag, never do that to me again, never leave me like that again, please—"

His voice cracked, turned into a sob. Barely breathing from how tightly they held each other, they stood there. Zagreus could feel nothing, see nothing, hear nothing but Thanatos. Blindly, he reached to cup his cheeks and press their foreheads together.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered through the tears that blurred his sight. "Forgive me, please, I'm sorry—"

"You left me!"

Thanatos shoved him back with a shout, suddenly furious as if he only now remembered. His eyes were alight with something, but it wasn't anger. All Zagreus could see was pain as Thanatos stepped away, wrapping both arms around his middle, shaking.

"Than—"

"You left me there, you left me alone! I didn't even know whether you were still alive, you idiot! You could be dead, Zag, you could have gotten yourself killed somehow! Where do you get off, leaving me like that?" he screamed.

Zagreus tried to approach him, helpless, but Thanatos just backed away again. His entire body trembled with exertion, a thin layer of cold sweat glistened on his neck. Abruptly, Zagreus found his arm being taken. He turned to look over his shoulder and found Patroclus staring past him and at Thanatos with furrowed brows.

"Achilles," he said, alarmed.

Without question, his husband clutched Zagreus' wrist and pulled him against his chest to hold him there while Patroclus rushed forward. Just in time. Thanatos collapsed, his eyes flashing white for a moment before he hit the floor. Patroclus fell to his knees beside him, tore his coat open and unwrapped the scarf from him, tossing it aside to check his pulse.

"Than!" Zagreus yelled, panicking, fighting against Achilles' grip. "What's wrong with him, what happened? Than! Than!"

The secretary had jumped to her feet behind the desk, staring at the scene unfolding before her in shock. Patroclus looked up for a second, first at her, then back at Zagreus and Achilles.

"He's okay, calm down. Just a bit exhausted, the poor thing," he announced without addressing anyone in particular before he turned back to Thanatos.

Tearing up, Zagreus watched from where Achilles was still holding him back. Finally, after a moment in which no person present in the room seemed to breathe, Thanatos opened his eyes again. They were dazed and disoriented, unable to focus on anything. Patroclus smiled down at him comfortingly.

"There we go," he muttered and adjusted the collar of the boy's coat a little so it didn't cling to him quite as much. "Luckily, you didn't hit your head, so I don't think we'll have to call an ambulance just yet, but if you start feeling worse than you do now, you let me know and I'm driving you to the hospital, alright?"

A bit confused, Thanatos nodded. His gaze fell on Zagreus and he closed his eyes again while Patroclus helped him to sit up and steadied him, holding onto his arm until the young man seemed to regain his balance at least a little bit. Still shaky, he got back onto his legs.

"Are you certain he will be alright?" asked the secretary, reaching for the phone on her desk. "I could still call an ambulance, just to be sure."

Patroclus gave her a reassuring glance.

"Thank you, but don't worry. I'm a medic and pretty sure all he needs right now is a bit of fresh air to recover and a little rest. We'll see to it that the young man gets home safely. Have a good day."

Supported by him, Thanatos followed them outside where Achilles finally released Zagreus – not before getting him to promise to be gentle. Still, Thanatos avoided his gaze. He looked like he would fall asleep any second now and Patroclus wrapped one arm around his waist to keep him upright with a worried scowl.

"You're running a fever," he said after briefly laying the back of his hand against Thanatos' cheek. "How long has it been since you slept properly, boy?"

Swaying on his feet, Thanatos shook his head exhaustedly.

"I don't— I don't know, I haven't been home in a few days now."

"Where are you staying, then?" Achilles asked. The concern in his voice was audible as he looked at his husband and then back at the young man.

"My car," Thanatos responded weakly. He staggered and Patroclus resolutely swept him into his arms to carry him the steps down to the parking lot before he could trip and possibly hurt himself this time.

"What are we going to do with him? We can't just leave him like that," Achilles said, following after them with Zagreus.

"We won't," Patroclus said over his shoulder. "For now, we're going home. He needs to lie down. Desperately. After he's done sleeping, we can talk again, but for now, I'm issuing strict bedrest. With no disturbances."

At that, he gave Zagreus a firm stare. The boy shrunk back and opened the door of their car when they got close enough. He helped Patroclus to gently arrange Thanatos on the backseat so he could lay down on the way home, but when he reached to run his hand over his friend's hair, his wrist was caught and pushed away.

He quietly retreated a bit to give Thanatos space while Achilles and Patroclus got into their respective seats as well and the car engine came to life.

"I didn't want to leave you alone," Zagreus said under his breath, only for the two of them in the back. "I missed you, Than. I just couldn't stand it there anymore."

"Save it, Zag," Thanatos whispered without looking at him. "You hate me, don't you?"

Zagreus felt like his throat had been gripped by a vice, squeezing all air from his lungs and making the words die on the tip of his tongue. His hands dropped into his laps silently and he stared out of the window for the entire drive home. Even then, he let Patroclus and Achilles handle Thanatos and watched as they carefully brought him inside and made him lie down on the couch.

"Your name is Thanatos, right?" Patroclus asked while he put a glass of water down on the coffee table. "Zagreus has told us a little about you. He's staying with us for the time being, and you're staying too. At least until we've had the chance to talk about some things, alright? Before that, you're going to sleep, though."

He didn't get a response, but Thanatos greedily downed the cool liquid before falling back into the soft cushioning of the couch without protest. Achilles had brought the bedspread from Zagreus' room over and tucked him in. Before he'd even finished, the boy was out cold, shivering even with the thick blanket pulled up all the way to his shoulders.

Content with that, Patroclus got up and motioned Achilles to follow him outside. Zagreus was sitting in his room by the desk, turning Thanatos' scarf in his hands, stroking the soft fabric. His cheeks were wet with tears and he didn't bother to hide them when Achilles knocked on the open door.

"Do you need anything, lad?" he asked softly.

"No," Zagreus whispered. "I just want to be alone for now, thanks."

When they returned to check on him later, he was lying across the desk, arms crossed, face buried in the scarf. He'd cried himself to sleep.

Thanatos woke up to faint voices drifting through the room from somewhere far away. He could only recognize unfamiliar outlines that reminded him he certainly wasn't back home yet. The pounding headache that had haunted him for days now was still insistently throbbing behind his temples and when he sat up, his stomach tightened painfully.

"Awake?" someone asked and gently touched his shoulder. "Slowly, boy. Don't move so much yet. Do you feel better?"

All he could do was shake his head and press his lips together tightly. A sour, disgusting taste filled his mouth. Strong arms gently lifted him up and he vaguely recalled the feeling from earlier, but then his thoughts dissolved in a painful jab of agony down his neck and he let his head drop back without resistance as he was carried somewhere.

"Alright, I'm just going to set you down and get you a bit cleaned up, okay? Achilles, can you bring me some fresh clothes? He needs something dry to wear. Just take something from my side of the closet, doesn't matter what. Just something comfortable, please," the deep voice continued and when he opened his eyes a little, he could see a man kneeling before him.

When he noticed Thanatos' gaze on him, the man smiled.

"We'll be done in a few moments, okay? Then you can sleep some more."

Something cold, damp touched his face and cleaned the sweat off of him before his shirt was stripped and thrown over the edge of the bathtub he was apparently leaning against. A stomach-turning twist to his vision made him double over with a nauseated gasp as the room tilted before him.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he muttered, feeling all color leaving his face.

A cool hand laid itself on his nape soothingly.

"No wonder. Just take deep breaths. It's nothing bad if you have to throw up. Your stress levels are probably through the roof. I've given you a light, harmless medication with your water earlier to bring them down again, but it'll take a bit to start working. If you just rest a little longer, you'll feel better, I promise."

Thanatos nodded faintly. He didn't know this person, he didn't know where he was, he had no idea what was happening to him. All he really knew was that he felt like he could sleep for three days straight and that this man had just given him permission to do so. Something soft and loose was slipped over his head and he snuggled into the cool fabric with an exhausted sigh. The indistinct scent of a pleasant cologne and laundry detergent surrounded him when he was picked up again.

He felt strangely small all of a sudden – like a child, almost. Maybe he was sick and that was why he was allowed to stay in bed all day. He was so tired. Lights flashed by, dimmed and warm. A soft bed, pillows. Blankets were thrown over him and a hand lingered on his cheek.

"Can I see him now, Pat?" a voice whispered from far away, and this time, it was a familiar one.

"You can. Be quiet, he's at rest."

Steps approached, though muffled – socks on wooden floorboards. Thanatos stayed still. Then, a hand, smaller than his own, gently laid itself into the crook of his elbow. The mattress dipped beneath the weight of another person and he felt the light pressure of something coming to rest beside his shoulder on the bedsheets.

"Are you sleeping here?"

"I— Yes. For as long as he will let me."

A brief silence.

"If anything happens, wake us up. And if he sends you away, there are spare blankets in the drawer beneath the bookshelf in the living room. Just see to it that you get some sleep. You have school tomorrow."

An unwilling whine answered and almost, Thanatos winced at the familiarity of it. He knew this voice, he remembered only now, and he knew who was currently curling up half on top of him, holding his arm.

"Zag," he muttered weakly, trying to untangle his limbs from the bedspread, seeking out the other boy's warmth.

Almost immediately, he felt soft hair tickling the bare skin on his neck as Zagreus tucked his head into the hollow beneath his chin.

"Please, don't make me get up. I know… I know you're mad at me, but Than, please—"

He sounded so choked-up with tears, so frail. Finally, Thanatos managed to free his arm and wrap it around Zagreus' upper body to hold him closer.

"I was never mad at you," he whispered weakly. "I was just so scared."

Chapter Text

He was alone when he woke up.

The room was unfamiliar, but his clothes had been washed and neatly folded, waiting for him at the foot end of the bed. When Thanatos at last managed to convince himself to abandon the warm blankets in favor of getting up, he carefully looked around.

It had to be morning – there was a faint shimmer of light filtering through the tiny gaps in the blinds someone had lowered down to keep out the sun. While he reached for his sweater to pull it on, he realized that he was already wearing a t-shirt and some sweatpants. Definitely not his own, though, they were far too big on him. Cozy, he realized and sank back onto the mattress with a yawn.

To be honest, all Thanatos wanted to do was crawl back into bed. For the first time in days, his head had stopped aching and he felt rested, and the prospect of spending a lazy morning doing nothing was so tempting. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had nothing to do. Still, he probably should get up and at least see where he was.

With that in mind, he snuck over to the door and opened it just a crack. A warm, inviting hallway lay before him and while he cautiously stepped out into it, rubbing his bare arms, he couldn't help but think how much he liked the look of this apartment. From the open rooms along the corridor flooded bright, golden sunlight and there were pictures all over the walls.

"Up already? I thought you'd sleep a bit longer."

The voice startled Thanatos enough for him to jump as he frantically looked for the source of it. A man had appeared in one of the doorways, leaning against it with a smile. His eyes were dark but kind as he scrutinized the boy for a moment before he pushed himself away from the doorpost and straightened up. The memories of this exact man gently hoisting him up just before blackness swallowed up all the rest came back at a gradual pace the longer Thanatos looked at him.

"Excuse me," he stammered embarrassedly. "I must've caused some problems for you yesterday, haven't I?"

"No problems at all," the man reassured as he came closer and reached up both hands. Only then, he hesitated for a moment. "May I?"

Thanatos nodded unsurely. With a smile, the man stroked his thumbs along beneath the boy's jaw with gentle pressure. His face remained concentrated for a moment, then it eased and he pulled back.

"Looks better already. No swelling anymore. Just how long did you spend without sleeping properly?"

"I don't know. I've been busy lately," Thanatos muttered.

"Obviously. Listen, there's much we have to discuss, but I'd rather have you fed and rested for that. So, what do you want for lunch? Zagreus and Achilles are at school and they won't be home until later this evening. It's just us for the time being," the man said, smiling again.

Dumbfounded, Thanatos stared back at him. He remembered that he'd gone to one of the universities on his list, that there had been two men, one of them carrying him. He remembered a soft bed, Zagreus snuggling into his embrace—

"Zag!" he gasped, suddenly frantic. "Where is he?"

"At school, like I just said," the man before him said and held his arms to keep him steady. "Calm now, boy. Won't do you any good to get all agitated again."

"You don't understand!" Thanatos whimpered as he tried to wind himself out of the firm grip. "I need to see him, I need to talk to him!"

"What you need to do is settle down and take it easy. And also tell me what you want to eat for lunch."

With finality, the man led him down the hallway and into a big, brightly-lit kitchen. Shaken, Thanatos could do nothing but comply as he was pushed down onto one of the chairs by the table and handed a glass of something that smelled enticingly like fresh orange juice.

"Who even are you?" he muttered, dazed, before taking a careful sip. The acidic sweetness felt good against his parched throat.

"Patroclus," the man said with a matter-of-factness as if it couldn't be any other way while he opened a cupboard. "And you're Thanatos, are you not?"

"That's not what I meant," Thanatos said quietly. "I meant… who are you? To Zagreus? Why is he living with you? Why did you bring me here?"

Patroclus turned to look at him and rested his hips against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. His smile was still as kind as before. Thanatos could imagine why Zagreus would be drawn to this person in the first place. There was something about him – something warm and inviting and suddenly, he felt the bizarre urge to throw himself into the man's arm and call out "Father!".

"Zagreus moved in across the hall a few weeks ago, that's how we met. He started attending the afternoon class my husband, Achilles, offers to his university students, and one thing led to another. We like to think of him as our boy. He cancelled his own rental contract and moved in with us. That's why he's here and also why you're here now," Patroclus said. "He told us you two grew up together in his father's house?"

Quietly nodding, Thanatos stared at the glass he was holding and turned it in his hands. Just the thought of Hades and home sent him into a catatonic state of anxiety. Patroclus seemed to notice. He was by his side in an instant and knelt down to gently grasp his arm.

"Hey. Eyes up, deep breaths. For now, you're here. And while you are, you can help me decide what to make for lunch. What do you like to eat?

When the front door lock clicked and opened, Thanatos flinched at the laughter that accompanied the sound. At home, nobody would have dared to come in laughing like that. He leapt up from the couch where Patroclus had sent him to rest this afternoon on strict order and rushed out into the hallway.

Breath fogging up before them from the cold they brought in from outside, Achilles and Zagreus were taking off their coats and putting them away in the foyer.

"Than!" Zagreus called out eagerly when he spotted him standing in the door to the living room. He dropped his bag and rushed over before hesitating and instead of throwing himself into his friend's arms, he stopped and looked up at him, fidgeting. "Are you feeling better today?"

Without responding, Thanatos wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him in close enough to carefully trace the band-aid over Zagreus' brow with his fingers.

"What happened to you?" he whispered.

"Someone thought I needed a good beating," Zagreus replied, clearly very unbothered by the injury and just glad that Thanatos had initiated their embrace. With a blissful sigh, he let his head fall against his friend's chest.

Achilles, who was watching them from the foyer, just smiled. Zagreus had been a little distracted all evening, eager to get home. After the first time he'd told Achilles and Patroclus about his father and childhood, they'd had long talks concerning all sorts of things – just not Thanatos. That was the one topic Zagreus had never wanted to broach. Each time they had mentioned his childhood friend, the boy had gotten quiet and reserved after, sometimes even upset enough to retreat into his room to be alone for some time.

Seeing them together now, holding each other, Achilles couldn't help but feel happy for Zagreus. Maybe he got a chance to apologize at last and set things right. It was so painfully obvious how much he loved Thanatos, and how much he was loved in return by him.

"Welcome home. You're surprisingly on time, dinner's almost ready," Patroclus said, pulling him out of his thoughts while he stepped over and drew him into a gentle kiss.

"Someone was already nagging me at quarter to six that we still had to clean up and get changed," Achilles said with a meaningful smile at Zagreus. "He couldn't wait to get back tonight."

For a brief moment they watched the two boys, then Patroclus turned back to him and laid his forehead against Achilles' temple.

"Gods, I love you," he muttered quietly, only for his husband to hear. "You can't even imagine how much."

Laughing, Achilles tucked himself closer to Patroclus' chest. Their hands tangled between them.

"I think I can. I love you just as much, Philtatos."

Halfway through dinner, Achilles looked up.

"What were you even doing at our university, Thanatos?" he asked casually, his gaze intent on the boy.

For a moment, Thanatos looked like he'd refuse to answer, but then he put his fork down.

"When Zag disappeared, Hades sent us out to go looking for him. I've been on patrol for days, sleeping in my car," he said in his usual quiet manner. His face showed not a hint of emotion mentioning Zagreus' father. "My mother wanted to alert the authorities, but Hades refused. He said we'd find him soon enough. Since then, I've been calling and visiting every hospital, youth center, and hotel in the entire area. After that, I started to look up schools as well, just in case he'd enrolled somewhere. But it's hard to get information without saying too much as to why you need it."

Zagreus had lowered his head and Achilles could almost hear his heartbeat quicken from across the table. The boy was still absolutely panicking at the very mention of his father and just hearing about him had drained all color from his face.

"Did you come to take me back, then? Or tell Father where he can find me so he'll personally come fetch me?" he asked without ever lifting his gaze.

It was silent enough to hear a pin drop. Patroclus had tensed up beside his husband. Nobody was going to take his boy away, and Achilles was having similar thoughts. With a weak groan, Thanatos buried his face in his hands.

"Zag, I… I don't know. All I wanted was to find you, I never thought… I never thought about what I'd do after. I just wanted to know where you were, if you were okay. But if I don't go back home soon—" In addition to his already ashen skin, he was deathly pale when he lowered his hands back down. "Hades already suspects I helped you. Escape, I mean. He still doesn't believe me when I say I have no idea where you could have gone. I can't make myself look even more suspicious by staying away for too long."

"Did he… did he hit you again?"

If Zagreus had been afraid before, he was nothing but terrified now as he grasped Thanatos' face. The golden eyes he remembered so vividly from their childhood were dulled by weeks of tireless work and concern now, and Zagreus couldn't help the tears that slipped down his cheeks at the silent affirmation that needed no words to be conveyed.

"This is all my fault," he sobbed and buried his face against Thanatos' chest. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Than. I shouldn't have run away, I'm so sorry. He wouldn't be angry with you if I hadn't."

"Zag, he would've just kept on hitting us both if you hadn't left," Thanatos argued weakly. "It's better for you here. Don't apologize. I… I can take it, don't worry about me."

Like a child, Zagreus climbed into his lap to wrap both arms around his neck, still crying.

"I don't want you to go back to him! Stay here with us, Than, please, please! Don't go back, please!"

Exhausted, Thanatos rested his head on Zagreus' shoulder and closed his eyes. He hated to see Zagreus cry, had always hated it, especially when Hades was the reason for it just like now. But what was he supposed to do? If he didn't return, Hades would know, or at least become wary of him, and that could possibly end up in him figuring out where Thanatos had been last in his search for Zagreus. The thought that he could be the reason for Hades to find his son and drag him back into that hellhole of a house was unbearable.

"I'll leave tonight, Zag," Thanatos muttered and stroked his hair. "It's safer that way. And I probably can't come back anytime soon, but don't think too much about it. I'm just glad to know you're safe."

His bright eyes lifted to meet Achilles' and Patroclus' gazes from the other side of the table. The two men had watched in silence, not wanting to interrupt.

"Thank you. For taking care of Zagreus. I'm sure he would be far worse off without you. And thank you also for being so kind to me. You wouldn't have needed to," Thanatos said quietly.

Chapter Text

"How is Nyx?"

"She is well. She cries a lot since you're gone."

Zagreus stayed quiet. His head was resting on Thanatos' chest. Light and shadow played hide and seek on his cheeks from the glowing TV screen across the room and Thanatos gently held his hand, looking down at him.

"You're still worried about me, are you not?"

He did not get a response, but Zagreus burrowed deeper under the blanket they were sharing and pressed his face tightly against Thanatos' neck. Sighing, the latter lifted one hand to weave his fingers into Zagreus' hair and straighten it out a little – a rather pointless endeavor.

"Please, Zagreus. I just needed to know you're alright. And you are, you're doing perfectly good here. Achilles and Patroclus will take care of you, okay? And I'll be fine knowing you're with them."

"But you can't go back there," Zagreus whispered, "you can't. Than, he'll hit you again."

"This time I won't let him," Thanatos promised. "I was afraid of him until now because you were there, because I was scared that if I angered him, he'd take it out on you. But I won't endure him any longer now that you're safely gone from that place. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you all those years."

He gently tipped Zagreus' chin up and smiled comfortingly, but there was still a faint bitterness to the curve of his lips and within the golden glow of his eyes.

"Then what are you doing, going back to him like that? Why are you returning there if you can just stay with us?" Zagreus asked desperately.

"Nyx is still there. And Hypnos. I have to see them and make sure they're alright."

"What do you think will have happened in the few days you were gone?" Zagreus asked, impatient. "Nyx is safe with him, he's never raised a hand against her, and Hypnos too."

"And you think I can leave them there so easily?" Thanatos asked, irritated. "She might not be your mother, Zag, but she is mine. And Hypnos, stupid and lazy as he is, is still my brother too. I will not abandon them like you abandoned me, without a word of goodbye or an explanation, only telling me you hate me and to not touch you anymore, and then being gone the next day."

It stung, but Zagreus could twist and turn it however much he wanted – Thanatos was right. Out of his voice spoke all the hurt and disappointment he must have felt ever since he'd suddenly found himself waking up alone in the house one morning.

"I never wanted to say that," Zagreus whispered, shrinking back and drawing the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "I don't hate you, Than."

"Then why did you say it?" Thanatos asked, eyes desperately scouring Zagreus' face to gauge whether he was lying or whether that was finally the truth at last.

Why, why, why.

Because Hades would have beaten them even worse. Because seeing Thanatos with split lips and bruised cheeks was worse than nursing them himself. Because having to sit quietly and unmoving by the table as Thanatos winced when lifting his arm to eat was more excruciating than the ache beneath his own discolored skin. Because living with Thanatos under one roof without being allowed into his arms was ten times worse than not seeing him at all. Because—

"Because I love you so much that it hurts," Zagreus sobbed, wiping his face as tears began to roll down his cheeks. "I love you, I love you, I love you, and I knew that if he knew then he'd get so angry and I was so scared that he might do something worse than just hit you and I… I… couldn't, Than, I couldn't—"

As if the last vestige of strength had left him along with the confession, Zagreus threw himself against Thanatos' chest and began to cry unrestrainedly.

Thanatos was woken by a light touch to his shoulder. He drew in a brief, stagnant breath and kept his eyes shut.

"Shh, it's alright. It's just me," a gentle voice whispered. "The lad's sleeping. If you go, please go now. He'll break if he has to watch you leave."

Reassured, Thanatos shifted to look at Achilles who was kneeling beside the couch, giving him a saddened smile. Zagreus was curled up like a kitten atop his chest, breathing steadily and deeply. Thanatos had never seen him so at ease. Ever since they had been little, their sleep had been fitful, interrupted by nightmares and sudden onslaughts of fear at the slightest noise. Now, Zagreus was truly at rest. Safe. Protected. Even as Thanatos carefully slipped from the couch, Achilles was resting his hand on the tuft of messy black hair that stuck out from beneath the blanket to keep Zagreus asleep and soothed.

"Please take care of him," Thanatos whispered, voice thick with uncried tears. His tongue felt strangely swollen, his throat too tight. "Please. Please. I love him to the end of the world. Nothing can ever happen to him."

Achilles just nodded and motioned that he would stay. Outside the dark living room, the hallway was illuminated brightly and Thanatos had to squint against the sudden onslaught of light. Patroclus stood in the foyer with his coat and scarf ready, holding both out to him.

"I'm not leaving without saying goodbye," Thanatos said hoarsely. "He did the same to me and I haven't forgiven him yet. I won't be a hypocrite."

Nodding thoughtfully, Patroclus watched him putting on the coat and toying with the scarf for a moment, seemingly undecided yet. Then, Thanatos wrapped the soft, grey fabric around his hand into a neat coil and opened the door to Zagreus' room to put the scarf down on the desk. His eyes lingered on it for a moment before he turned around with new resolution. While he slipped on his shoes, Patroclus crossed both arms before his chest.

"What will you do now?"

"Go back to Hades. Continue working for a while so he doesn't become suspicious," Thanatos muttered.

Dark eyes bored right through his skull.

"You're staying there?"

Thanatos smiled wryly.

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" he said. "If I don't return, he'll know I found Zagreus and maybe he'll be able to track him down. I can't risk putting you all in that kind of situation."

Patroclus looked at him for a long time with something like deep, heartfelt appreciation – something Thanatos had not experienced in years. With a sigh, the man leaned against the wall with one shoulder and continued to watch him.

"You'll take care of yourself? Make sure you're going to be okay?"

"I suppose," Thanatos said tentatively, fiddling with the sleeves of his coat. "Thank you for having me. And thank you for taking care of Zag. I'll try… I'll try to be in touch. Maybe I can leave Hades one day. When I'm certain that my mother and brother have a good place to stay as well, I might be able to find work elsewhere. Save up some money, pay for a little place of my own. Maybe I can see Zag again then."

Two strong hands gripped his shoulders – something that would have made him tense had it been anyone else, but there was a strange warmth streaming right into him now from where Patroclus held him. It was a simple gesture, yet it was enough to make his eyes throb and sting.

"You try to look out for everyone else. I get that. I'm the same. But look out for yourself a little bit too. Please. For Zagreus. For us," Patroclus said quietly. Then, he pulled him in, and Thanatos found himself crying for the first time ever since he had been little.

The next morning, Zagreus woke up in his bed. He faintly remembered falling asleep on the couch with Thanatos beside him. Patroclus must have carried him back to his room at some point, he thought, yawning as he sat up. It was already seven, his alarm clock showed, so he should really get up and prepare for school, but a strange heaviness dragged him back into the sheets. Surely the others were having breakfast already, waiting for him, yet he couldn't bring himself to crawl out of bed this morning.

It was as if some impending doom was lurking just outside the bedroom door, something he'd have to face if he took even one step over the threshold. Ducking his head under the covers, he tried to make himself as small as possible until someone knocked on the door. When he gave no answer, the handle was pushed down and a thin sliver of light crept into the darkness of his room.

"Zagreus."

Achilles' voice was strangely soft. Dangerously so. Something was amiss and Zagreus in no hurry to find out what. He knew it would be terrible.

"Zagreus."

Again, that indulgent tone. Almost like he didn't have to get up if he didn't want to, and boy, did he not want to. Maybe Achilles would just let him skip school. He could stay home with Thanatos all day. Of course Antilochus and Automedon would bombard him with questions about why he was skipping practice when they had the volleyball tournament upcoming, but that could be dealt with later.

A hand lightly brushed his forehead and Zagreus flinched. He hadn't heard Achilles approach nor had he felt him sit down on the edge of the mattress.

"Aren't you coming outside for breakfast?" Achilles asked. "It's getting late. You have class today."

Zagreus only peered over the edge of his blankets and wordlessly disappeared beneath them again. Above him, Achilles sighed softly. Then he got back up and retreated. Feeling even more miserable now that he was gone, Zagreus buried his face in his pillow. Why wasn't he being kicked out of bed? Why were they being so considerate today? Usually if he wasn't up at quarter past seven, Patroclus would personally come, pick him up – blankets and all – and carry him to the kitchen for breakfast. Sometimes, Zagreus stayed in bed on purpose just for their little playfight in the morning.

Today, Patroclus didn't come and Zagreus felt even lonelier hearing the muffled voices from the kitchen. Then, steps passed by his bedroom door, into the foyer, and left the apartment. The front door clicked shut and Achilles had left. Maybe Patroclus and Thanatos were still waiting for him.

Slowly, Zagreus peeled the weighted blankets off of himself and instead wrapped one of the lighter, fluffier ones around his shoulders like a cloak before shuffling out into the hallway.

The kitchen was empty, but he found Patroclus in the living room, stretched out comfortably on the couch with his legs crossed at the ankles, his laptop resting on his thighs. When he noticed Zagreus standing in the doorway, he pushed his glasses out of the way and smiled.

"Achilles just left. You're staying home with me today? Or are you going to take the bus later?"

Zagreus shook his head and threw himself face-down on the couch beside Patroclus, close enough to rest his head on the man's stomach so he could look at the computer screen as well. It showed a spreadsheet of sorts.

"Thought you were supposed to not work. That's why you're home, aren't you?" he muttered and Patroclus laughed softly, working his fingers through Zagreus' hair.

"Doing a bit of paperwork and having to cover a sixteen-hour shift are two entirely different things, lad, believe me. I don't have anything else to do at the moment right now anyway. How's your head?"

He just couldn't let it go – a medic through and through. Zagreus turned over obediently to let Patroclus take a look at the wound.

"Does it still hurt?"

"If you continue pressing down on it, yes," Zagreus complained, miffed. "Ouch! Stop doing that!"

Laughing, Patroclus ruffled his hair where he'd smoothed it out first and lightly patted his shoulder to signal he was done with the examination for now. Still grumbling, Zagreus rolled over and got comfortable again, trying to will away the faint throbbing ache that now filled the space behind his eyes.

"Where's Than?" he asked after a moment. The rest of the apartment felt too quiet.

He didn't get a response right away. Instead, Patroclus' hands on the keyboard of his laptop stilled.

"Out."

"Did he leave with Achilles?"

"Mmh. A bit earlier."

Soothed, Zagreus closed his eyes. Thanatos was probably just going back to grab a few things, he'd be back by noon at latest. Maybe he would even get home before lunch so they could eat together, and if he pestered Patroclus long enough, he'd surely drive them to campus in time for Achilles' afternoon class so he wouldn't actually miss out on practice. The Myrmidons would love Than, he knew it. Perhaps Zagreus could even show him how to play volleyball, and in the evening they'd watch TV with Achilles and Patroclus and they'd be allowed to hug and kiss all they wanted without anyone dragging them apart and punishing them, and then they'd sleep together in his bed just like they used to when they were little and he could tell Thanatos he loved him just for the pleasure of it, however many times he wanted—

When Patroclus carefully ran the back of his hand over Zagreus' cheek, the boy didn't react. He'd already drifted off to sleep again with a faint smile on his lips.

Chapter Text

"You know, we could still eat in the meantime."

It had been almost an hour now since Patroclus had started trying to convince Zagreus to come sit down by the table and start lunch, but the boy was adamant.

"Than will be back any minute now," he assured and stubbornly stared at the front door from where he was lying on the couch, perching his chin on the armrest.

Why couldn't Patroclus understand that he was just waiting for Thanatos? If Achilles weren't back in time for dinner, they would wait too, wouldn't they? It wouldn't be much longer now – just a matter of seconds and there would be a knock on the front door and Thanatos would smile at him when he opened it, a bag slung over his shoulder or maybe a box in his arms to carry the stuff he'd need, and then they could eat together and afterwards they'd stash away the things he had brought in Zagreus' room…

"Zagreus. I don't think he will be back so soon," Patroclus said softly from the doorway, still looking at him.

"Of course he'll be back," Zagreus snapped. He felt anxiously hollow inside. "He has to come back. He wouldn't leave me alone again like this."

With a soft sigh, Patroclus retreated into the kitchen. That day, he ate lunch by himself. When he peered into the living room after, Zagreus had curled up in the furthest corner of the couch, wrapped in the blanket he and Thanatos had shared yesterday night. His eyes were closed. When Patroclus put down a plate of food on the coffee table, he didn't even spare him a glance. It hurt to see the boy like this, but there was nothing to be done about it. Even so, Patroclus found himself checking on him again and again. He felt so helpless.

At half-past four, when Zagreus still hadn't touched his food – hadn't even moved – he knocked gently on the doorpost.

"Hey, lad. It's almost time for Achilles' class. You want to get ready? I'll drive you there. The other boys will be more than happy to see you, and maybe we can all get some takeout together later. Whatever you want," he offered.

Zagreus simply shook his head and buried himself deeper under the blanket as if to escape the mere idea of it and Patroclus could do nothing but watch him build those invisible walls he knew from his own childhood, the ones that wouldn't let anybody in other than that one person who could shatter them with a single smile or glance or word. For him, it had been Achilles, and they had never been apart ever since they'd gotten to know one another.

The one person in the world to break down Zagreus' walls had just left his life again over night, but maybe it was not too late to pull him out of this slump yet. Patroclus sat down on the edge of the couch.

"Zagreus, you understand that it is best if Thanatos does not spend too much time here or comes back right away, don't you?" he asked softly. "Your father could—"

"My father already kept Than from me for way too long!" Zagreus shouted and leapt to his feet abruptly. "I won't let him take Than away from me again now that I can finally have him all to myself!"

His eyes were glistening wetly and Patroclus tried to reach for him, to keep him in place and maybe pull him down so he could take him into his arms and soothe him, tell him they'd figure something out, but the boy stormed past him and out into the hallway. Surely he was going to hole up in his room now and refuse to come out for a day or two until he had calmed down, Patroclus thought, and didn't bother to hurry after Zagreus.

When the front door was suddenly slammed shut, he jolted. He had expected the boy to go sulk, not leave all on his own. A little frantic, he left the living room. Zagreus' coat was gone and so were his boots, so at least he wouldn't freeze to death. Maybe he'd take the bus to campus and join Achilles' class. Knowing that his husband didn't have any signal down in the gymnasium hall, Patroclus didn't bother to call him. Instead, he threw on his own jacket and grabbed the keys from the glass bowl in the foyer before following Zagreus out into the cold evening air. It was already pitch-black outside and the streetlights had come on.

Shivering a little while he zipped up his jacket, Patroclus first checked the bus stop down by the road. When he didn't find Zagreus there, he began to walk in direction of the university. If the boy had really gone there, he would have run, and there was no way Patroclus would catch up with him. Both Zagreus and Achilles had this way about them of being faster than lightning when they really wanted to get somewhere.

It took Patroclus half an hour to get to campus, and only five minutes to figure out that Zagreus had never even arrived. Achilles was beside himself with worry when his husband tiredly explained what had happened, but he decided to finish class just in case Zagreus would still show up. Meanwhile, Patroclus returned home and got the car for a quick drive around the neighborhood to see whether the boy had just needed some fresh air and was wandering around somewhere nearby.

He had no luck with that either.

By half-past six in the evening, Achilles had finished work and called him to let him know he would keep looking for Zagreus on campus. Maybe he was in the library or the cafeteria, or maybe in one of the cafés that surrounded the university. And just like that, they were busy searching for Zagreus until almost midnight. Achilles arrived home, exhausted and trembling, unable to settle down for more than a few moments at a time.

"We'll find him," Patroclus tried to soothe his husband, but he was sick with worry as well.

They'd called him more often than they could count, but their calls went unheeded and all the messages they sent didn't fare any better. With Achilles staying back to inform him in case Zagreus came home on his own, Patroclus set out again to go looking for their son.

Zagreus had noticed his phone vibrating multiple times, but he didn't bother to even look at it. Still wiping at his tear-smeared face, he continued down the street, free hand buried deep in his pocket. He didn't want Achilles fussing over him right now and he didn't want Patroclus' silent worry either. He just wanted some peace and quiet, and he wanted to look for Thanatos.

He couldn't have possibly gone back.

Surely he was around here somewhere, just running some errands before coming home, or maybe getting some food to bring back so they could all eat together. There was no way Thanatos had left him again. Not after they had finally found each other again, not now that he finally knew that Zagreus loved him, that everything had only been Hades' fault.

Or had he left because of that?

A violent sob shook Zagreus' shoulders.

He'd told Thanatos that he loved him, yes – but had Thanatos said it back? He couldn't remember, his head was pounding as if it would explode any second now. Every thought was like a needle pricking his brain until he just numbly trotted down the sidewalk of some street and tried not to think of anything. Zagreus didn't even know where he was anymore, he didn't want to know, he didn't need to know.

What did it matter?

Thanatos had left. Thanatos had gone back to the house because being with Hades was preferable to being with Zagreus, apparently. Maybe he had just been playing nice, maybe he had been disgusted when Zagreus had told him he loved him. Yes, that was probably it. And then he'd taken the first opportunity to sneak out just so he wouldn't have to tell Zagreus to his face that he didn't love him in return.

Briefly, Zagreus stopped in his tracks and wondered whether he should go back. Not to Patroclus and Achilles, but to his father. Hades would probably open the door and not say a word while Zagreus walked past him into the dark hallway beyond the front door. He'd grab him by the scruff of his neck, then, drag him to his room and lock him up for a few days, and when he let him out, he'd greet Zagreus with a slap to the face and tell him to never even think about setting foot outside again, and then everything would be back to normal.

Thanatos would come and go as his work allowed and Nyx would sit quietly in one of her rocking chairs, looking at something only she could see, humming eerily. Hypnos would snooze his days away in the living room and Zagreus would be stuck alone with nothing to do other than go insane – but at least he would see Thanatos from time to time.

Even putting up with his father was bearable if he could only be around Thanatos.

When he began to walk again, his phone buzzed once more. Maybe Patroclus and Achilles would try to get him back. Zagreus tried to imagine them standing across the threshold from his father. Would they be as intimidated by him as everyone else was? Probably not. He still remembered how furious they both had been at Achilles' mother that stupid Wednesday evening in the nurse's office. This tall, ice-cold woman had scared him half to death just standing there, and Patroclus and Achilles had talked so condescendingly to her that he couldn't help but admire them for it.

Maybe they'd talk like that to his father, too.

The thought was somewhat amusing, but Zagreus could only breathe deeply. There was no energy left for a smile within him. Dog-tired and with his ears aching from the cold, he dropped down on a bench that stood beside the road, staring at the frost-glittering asphalt before him. No stars were out tonight, the sky was covered in clouds. He looked up at it for a moment.

Achilles and Patroclus had been worried about snow again yesterday evening like a few times before already, but until now, this winter had spared them of the troubles that apparently came with it. Snow was the thing that happened when the clouds froze, as far as Zagreus had understood from Patroclus' explanations. He'd never seen it before.

A bus stopped with groaning brakes right before him and Zagreus flinched back, startled. Only now did it occur to him that the bench he was sitting on belonged to a bus stop. The doors opened and without even bothering to look at where the bus was going, Zagreus got up and stepped into the inviting warmth.

The rows upon rows of seats were mostly vacant, so he chose an empty seat in the back and dropped his head against the window. His nearly-frozen fingers were slowly thawing again when he rubbed them together for a moment. With impenetrable darkness engulfing the world outside, he soon lost his bearings completely. Nobody else got on board and the few people who were drowsing in their seats, probably after a long day of work, seemed in no hurry to get off.

What felt like hours later, the bus stopped and everyone began gathering bags and coats and scarves and hats to brave the cold outside. This was most likely the last stop, Zagreus thought and followed the little group of people off the bus.

They were at the train station, the one that marked the turning point of his and Achilles' usual Sunday morning runs. The track that led back to the residential district was illuminated by lanterns in regular intervals, almost like it was beckoning to guide him home.

Zagreus turned away from it and looked at the train station instead. He had never actually been on a train before, and he suddenly found that it wasn't the worst occasion to make this his first time. Tired and curious, he stepped closer to the platform behind the large, open hall. Everyone who had gotten off the bus before was hurrying to step through the open doors of the train that was already waiting, it seemed – only one person, a man, sat on a bench nearby and contented himself with watching the passengers. In the faint light of an overhead lamp, his hair flashed golden.

Even though he still wasn't sure whether he really wanted company right now, Zagreus' heart clenched with bittersweet longing as he imagined Achilles coming down here, looking for him to see if maybe he would show up, to stop him from going somewhere all alone.

Slowly, carefully, he stepped closer to the man. Almost, he wanted to call Achilles' name and throw himself into his arms and tell him to please don't worry, that he was here now and they could go home together, but then he halted.

The man had noticed him and turned his head to look up at him.

His cheek was bright red – not just from the cold, no. Zagreus knew this distinct hue that still tasted like pain, like humiliation, and like unmerited anger.

"You," Neoptolemus said tiredly.

Chapter Text

They looked at each other for a long time.

Then, Neoptolemus turned away again, silent.

Zagreus waited, unsure whether to simply go past or at least greet him, but Neoptolemus spoke up before he could decide on either.

"Did my father send you to come look for me?" he asked and from his voice, Zagreus could tell that he had been crying.

"Nobody sent me," he replied quietly and buried his hands deeper in his pockets. Surely his eyes were just as red and swollen, his words just as choked. "But I suppose if they're looking for both of us, they'll at least find us together, then."

Neoptolemus lifted his gaze and stared at him for a moment, then he lowered his eyes to the dirty concrete ground again. Somewhere, a mechanical voice announced that the train was departing now and with a shrill beeping noise, the doors of the nearest wagon began to close. Slowly, Zagreus lowered himself down onto the bench next to Neoptolemus and buried his face in the fur-lined collar of his coat. Together, they sat in silence for a bit.

"Are they looking for you too?" Neoptolemus asked dryly after a while.

"I suppose," Zagreus said. "Someone's after you as well?"

Neoptolemus scoffed.

"I suppose," he echoed. "Thought for sure Mother called my father, told him to go looking for me, and he sent you and Patroclus to help."

So they had both left home. Both their parents were looking for them. Both of them were here now, cold, tired, miserable. Glancing at Neoptolemus from the side, Zagreus saw that he was bouncing his leg, probably to keep warm. Subtly, he shifted closer to the older boy. At least he was wearing his thick sweatpants, and even his thighs were already itching from the biting cold. He didn't want to imagine how cold Neoptolemus must be in his thin jeans.

"Does she hit you often?" Zagreus asked quietly.

He had expected an explosion just like back then when they had first met in the apartment. Yelling, screaming, insults. Instead, Neoptolemus stared at him for a second, then his shoulders slumped forward and he raised one hand to cover his cheek.

"Why would you care?" he whispered, voice bitter with hate. "What would you even know?"

Zagreus hesitated for a moment, but the longer he looked at the red traces on Neoptolemus' face, the more resolution filled him and at last, he leaned down to bunch up one leg of his pants. Neoptolemus jolted slightly and gave him a bewildered look – until he saw the ugly purple welts that crept up from Zagreus' ankle.

"My father had a habit of letting his anger out on me too," Zagreus said quietly.

Neoptolemus stared at the burn wounds, then at his face, then back at the wounds. With a shaky exhale, he leaned back on the bench, still touching his bruised cheek. Then, uncertainly, he reached his hand forward. A faint tension began to spread in Zagreus' chest. The last time they'd been so close, they had both been bleeding after. Even so, he kept still and held his breath while Neoptolemus' thumb lightly swept over the paling scar above his brow.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore," Zagreus said. "I've had worse from my father."

Neoptolemus nodded without giving a real answer and pulled his hand back. They were sitting closer now, shoulders touching lightly, knees brushing against one another, and their thoughts were darker than the winter night closing in around the station hall.

Sirens and flashing red and blue lights woke them halfway through the night. Then, paramedics were shaking their shoulders, talking loudly in their ears. Zagreus flinched back when he felt a large hand closing around his arm, another turning his head so he was facing the flashlight someone pointed right into his eyes. Dazed as he was, he couldn't do anything but sit there and try to gather his bearings. Beside him, Neoptolemus was faring none the better.

"What the hell is going on?" Zagreus heard him mutter, words still stilted with sleep. They must have dozed off together on the bench at the train station.

"What's your name?" someone asked sharply, drawing his attention to the man in the neon yellow jacket before him.

"Zagreus," he responded, still a little confused. "My name's Zagreus."

"Good. What day is it?" the paramedic continued to ask while he wrapped something around his upper arm that tightened almost painfully.

"I don't know… What? Friday, I think," Zagreus mumbled and tried to free himself from the man's grip. He was beginning to shake, and not just from the cold. "Stop touching me, please, stop—"

His breath hitched when the paramedic only held him tighter as he struggled to get away.

"Did you take any illegal substances? Alcohol?" the man went on, unbothered.

"No, no, nothing, please let go, please—"

"He said to let go of him! He doesn't like being touched!"

Suddenly, the medic was being wrenched away and a towering silhouette pushed itself between Zagreus and the flashing lights from the ambulance. Gasping softly with relief, he fell back and closed his eyes to will away the burning of his skin where the man had touched him. Neoptolemus looked over his shoulder and scrutinized Zagreus' face for a moment. His eyes were sharp as knife-edges beneath the soft curls of his strawberry-blond hair.

The paramedics focused on him, then. Faintly, Zagreus heard him answer their questions – at some point, Achilles' name fell. He sat up at the sound of it, but Neoptolemus pushed him back down and wrapped him up in a warm blanket. A similar one was draped over his own shoulders. Once the medics were apparently done bombarding them with questions, the two boys were left alone on the bench while the men in yellow vests stood aside, talking quietly. One of them was making phone calls.

"What happened?" Zagreus asked, still confused.

"Nothing. Sit down and just wait," Neoptolemus said miserably. Huddled up under his blanket, he looked tired and afraid, much smaller than he actually was. "My father is coming to pick you up."

They sat still for a while.

"What about you?" Zagreus whispered then. "Why'd she hit you today? Why did you run away?"

This time, Neoptolemus stared at him with the most hostile expression he could manage, but when he looked away, there was a treacherous glisten to his eyes.

"That's none of your business."

"Obviously not, but you just presumed to stick your nose into my business as well, so I figured we'd do it quid-pro-quo, you know," Zagreus said and shrugged.

Neoptolemus gave him a killing glance, but he relented.

"We were just arguing again. Nothing out of the ordinary."

At that, Zagreus just nodded. Finally something he could relate to. When he had seen Neoptolemus yelling at his father in the hallway back then, he'd wondered when Achilles would finally raise his hand to hit him. It had never happened. And Antilochus had stared at Zagreus in horror when he'd asked him whether his father hit him after Antilochus had complained about having had a fight with his parents. Most parents, it seemed, were not so prone to slapping their children over a simple disagreement, so it soothed Zagreus somehow to know that his father wasn't the only one – despite the surge of compassion that welled up within him each time he looked at Neoptolemus' marred cheek.

"And you? Why did you run off? I thought you were so happy living with my father," Neoptolemus snarked back.

"That's got nothing to do with Achilles or Pat," Zagreus replied, just as snappish.

They glowered at each other for a moment, but their little spat was interrupted by someone pushing through the paramedics that surrounded them.

"Zagreus!"

Achilles nearly crashed into him with Patroclus hot on his heels. Zagreus couldn't even breathe properly before he was already wrapped up in their arms.

"Gods, we were so worried about you, lad," Patroclus muttered and pressed his lips to Zagreus' forehead. "What were you thinking, running off like that? All night we've been looking for you, we've been everywhere asking around!"

"Never just run away like this again!" Achilles added. "We have been worried sick about you! Thank all the gods you're okay, I was so scared you might have done something stupid."

"So that's your son?" one of the paramedics asked, coming closer.

"Yes," Patroclus said without a hitch and Zagreus shuddered at the conviction in his voice. It sounded so sincere. How could he not wish for it to be true?

"Good. He's only very mildly hypothermic, nothing else. We were called here because a passersby found him and the other young man seemingly unconscious and they suspected some sort of drug abuse. From what we can tell, both are completely fine. They ran away, you said?"

Neoptolemus had pulled away from all of them and was standing a bit to the side, watching them fuss over Zagreus. All eyes turned to him for a moment and Achilles seemed to contemplate what to do or even think about his presence.

"Not together. But they seem to have met here," he said at last. "Neo, why are you out here so late? Mother will be furious."

The paramedics began to exchange glances.

"You know the other boy as well?"

"It's complicated," Achilles cut them off and stood up. "Did you call Mother already? Is she coming to take you home?"

"I'm not going home," Neoptolemus sniffed. "I'm never going home again."

He'd put the collar of his coat up to hide the bruise on his cheek, but when Achilles caught his wrist, the reddened edges of it became visible. Achilles drew in a sharp breath.

"Have you two been fighting again?" he asked and his voice trembled with rage. "Neo, I'm warning you. You can let your anger out on me all you want, but if you raise one hand against Zagreus ever again—"

"Achilles!"

Zagreus threw himself against the man's side and wrapped both arms around his waist, pressing his face tightly to Achilles' chest.

"That wasn't me. He didn't do anything, I promise."

"Zagreus, you don't have to protect him. He's old enough to know what he's doing," Achilles said sharply.

"I'm not protecting him!" Zagreus protested. "It wasn't me who hit him, it was your mother!"

Stunned silence fell over everyone. Neoptolemus looked almost like he was about to change his mind and was going to beat Zagreus up after all, but at last he just took a deep breath and stared at his father – challengingly, almost. Daring him to say something. To somehow shift the blame to him like everyone always did.

Achilles stepped forward and slowly smoothed his hand against Neoptolemus' bruised cheek. His face was an unreadable mask. Then, he grasped his son's jacket, jerked him forward, and drew him into a bone-crushing hug. It would have seemed painful if one hadn't seen how Neoptolemus crept closer to Achilles, tucking himself into his father's arms for the first time in ages. His eyes were squeezed shut but tears still gathered in their corners and slipped down his cheeks.

"She's never going to hit you again," Achilles promised quietly as he ran his hands through Neoptolemus' hair and pushed him back ever so slightly to look at him – just for a second, then he pulled him in again. "We're going home now. All of us."

Chapter Text

Freshly showered and clasping steaming mugs of hot tea, they all felt better sitting around the kitchen table. When they finished talking – about Zagreus and Neoptolemus running away and whatnot – it was nearly four in the morning and already starting to brighten up outside.

"Good thing that tomorrow is Saturday," Patroclus grumbled when the boys yawned nearly in unison. He got up and collected their cups to put them in the sink. "Off to bed, both of you."

"I'll take the couch," Zagreus offered and rubbed his eyes. "It's Neo's room. I'll just get my pajamas and blanket first."

Achilles pursed his lips.

"Only for tonight," he relented then. "You need a proper bed. We'll see about it in the morning."

Zagreus nodded obediently and stuck close to his side as they walked down the hallway. Neoptolemus disappeared into the bathroom while Achilles and Zagreus stepped into the bedroom right across the hall. A grey scarf was sitting in a neat coil upon the desk. Slowly, as if touching something that might crumble beneath his fingertips at the lightest touch, Zagreus ran one hand over it.

"He's really gone, isn't he," he said quietly, more to himself than to Achilles. Then, he picked the scarf up and wrapped it around his neck.

A surge of compassion washed over Achilles, but he didn't dare say anything. All that came to his mind were the usual well-meaning but useless phrases everyone was loath to hear. So he just grabbed a spare pillow from the closet and turned towards the door again.

"It's late, lad. Go brush your teeth."

Zagreus trudged off and Achilles returned to the kitchen alone to slump back down, the pillow in his lap. A few drops of spilled tea had left dark blotches on the wood grain of the table and he absent-mindedly traced the outlines of them with one fingertip. Patroclus watched him from where he leaned against the counter.

"We need to start looking into buying a bigger apartment," Achilles resigned at last. "We can't have them both staying with us in such close quarters. Everyone needs a bit of space. Maybe something nearby with a little garden or a terrace."

Hesitantly, he glanced over at Patroclus, anxious to hear his husband's thoughts on the matter. It was a sudden proposition, but he was determined that neither of his sons would ever have to leave him before they were ready and willing to. To his surprise, Patroclus looked merely thoughtful, then he turned and began rinsing off their tea cups to dry them off and put them away.

"A garden does sound nice," he muttered. "I've always wanted a dog."

That was as much of an agreement as Achilles could've asked for. He stood up and slowly wrapped both arms around Patroclus' waist, resting his cheek against his husband's shoulder blade.

"I know you don't like Neo," he began quietly, "but… please, Pat. Try to forgive him. Or at least try not to hate him. It would mean the world to me."

Patroclus stilled for a moment.

"Achilles. I've listened to that boy insulting you for nearly twenty years now, taking out all his anger on you. If you can forgive him, I know I can too," he said then and Achilles felt his eyes stinging at that.

He didn't deserve Patroclus. Not one single bit. Very gently, he managed to coax his husband into turning around and fitted their lips together for a tender kiss.

"Thank you, Philtatos. Thank you so much," he whispered.

Achilles had just finished fixing up the couch a little with some spare pillows and their warmest blankets when it struck him that the boys had been gone an awfully long time already. Despite the weekend coming up, they were supposed to go to sleep at last after spending the entire night out in the cold, he thought while marching down the hallway to the bathroom so he could check on them – just in case they'd decided to fight over something again.

Well.

The bathroom was empty, the lights were off. Furrowing his brows, Achilles stared at the towel someone had carelessly thrown over its holder. There were a few damp spots on it and both the boys' toothbrushes had obviously been used recently. The room still smelled faintly of spearmint and soap. If they'd argued, they had done it very quietly and also managed to get ready for bed in the meantime.

He wouldn't have needed to worry about them fighting.

Achilles found them sleeping in Neoptolemus' bed. It was certainly big enough for two, but still they had huddled up all the way against the wall like two stray little puppies trying to keep warm in some cold alleyway. Despite Neoptolemus being almost an entire head taller, he didn't look it tonight. His strawberry-blond hair was tucked under Zagreus' chin, who was cupping his bruised cheek protectively. They both looked so tired and way younger than they were, too.

While Achilles cautiously spread the weighted blanket over them that had lain folded at the foot of the bed, he noticed that Zagreus wasn't wearing any socks. The legs of his pajama had slipped up, revealing the burns on his feet. He hadn't even bothered to try and hide them from Neoptolemus. They were shimmering with the same angry reddish shade as the bruise on Neoptolemus' face. As quietly as possible, Achilles left them to sleep – just two children whose lives were too alike for them to stay angry at one another anymore.

Neoptolemus refused to return to Thetis and she didn't insist. Nobody lost a single word about it after he put the phone down when that conversation was over. Slowly, the bruise on his face began to fade, as did the scar above Zagreus' eye.

At first, Neoptolemus hesitated to join them when they were all seated together somewhere for a meal or to watch a movie. It was clear that he felt out of place, and his face was distorted with guilt whenever Achilles or Patroclus beckoned him over without a hitch, as if he'd always belonged with them that way. Then, one evening, he kept standing in the kitchen door and burst into tears, helplessly stuttering through a painful apology. He flinched in resigned fear when Achilles and Patroclus rose to walk over to him, as if he had expected them to unleash their anger on him now that he'd admitted to everything he'd said and done over the years, but all they did was offer up their arms for a silent embrace.

Gradually, everyone settled.

Neither of the boys withdrew when their parents reached out to ruffle their hair or pat their shoulders. Neither of them woke up in the middle of the night soaked with cold sweat and breathing harshly. Neither of them hesitated to ask for anything, silly or embarrassing as it might have seemed.

Wednesday mornings when Zagreus could sleep in and take the bus rather than driving to school with Achilles, Neoptolemus insisted to walk him to the bus stop and when class let out early, he was there to pick him up again. Thetis had stopped paying for his tuition at the private university he'd been studying at until now, so Achilles enrolled him in Zagreus' classes and they started taking the bus together each morning.

During their free afternoons, the two of them could usually be found sitting on the carpet in the living room, Neoptolemus trying to teach Zagreus some board game or showing him the video game controllers to his many consoles, or they'd be doing homework together, or Zagreus would simply lie down on the bed and watch as Neoptolemus painted on the easel that was newly set up in their room now. There would always be the sound of home filling the apartment when Patroclus and Achilles returned from work – laughter, music being blasted way too loud, two boys squabbling over some topic or another, video games and petty arguments.

The only serious argument Patroclus had to break up was when Neoptolemus complained about Zagreus' choice of clothing and tried to take the grey scarf from him that Zagreus insisted to wear to school each day, no matter what. It took less than a few seconds for Zagreus to nearly break Neoptolemus' wrist from shoving him back by it and there were scratches beading with blood on his arm after from where Neoptolemus had clung to him. Patroclus chided them both for it and they gave each other bitter scowls for the rest of the day, but that evening they peacefully curled up on the couch together again, Zagreus with his precious scarf wrapped around his neck.

The first time Neoptolemus appeared in the gym hall behind Zagreus, uncomfortably fidgeting in his new Myrmidons uniform, he was met with nothing but grim stares from all around.

"Stop glaring daggers at him," Zagreus said as he stepped aside and urged Neoptolemus forward. "This is my big brother, Neo."

On Zagreus' eighteenth birthday, he woke up to them all gathered around his bed, singing Happy Birthday to him in the flickering light of eighteen lit candles on the cake they were holding between them. Then, during breakfast among the presents lining the kitchen table and the beautiful painting Neoptolemus had been working on in secret to give him on his birthday, Patroclus and Achilles handed him a small stack of papers, both of them trembling slightly as they watched him read.

"Do you want this gift, too?" Patroclus asked, voice heavy, when Zagreus stared and stared and stared at the documents. "You don't have to, you know. It was just something we thought of. We talked about it for a long time and… if you'd like…"

He broke off. Every other prettily wrapped present in the room was long forgotten as Zagreus read over and over what was the most precious gift anyone had ever offered him – and they were still wondering whether he wanted it.

Shaking so badly that he was sure his signature would be an illegible mess, he signed the papers right beneath where Patroclus and Achilles already had. By virtue of his new authority as an adult, he accepted the official adoption process and surname change. Then, blind with tears, he threw himself into their arms -all three of them catching him, holding him.

"Welcome to the family, little brother," Neoptolemus muttered, stroking his hair.

Achilles fell hard onto his chair with a frustrated sigh.

"This can't be possible," he complained, throwing his phone aside. "Nothing suitable anywhere in town!"

Patroclus leaned over him and gently kissed his hair.

"We'll find something," he promised. "A nice place for all of us. Just be patient, love."

From across the table, Neoptolemus looked up. He was currently trying to beat some physics formulas into Zagreus, who looked just as fed-up as Achilles.

"Why do we even need a new place?" he asked, grimacing. "I like it here."

"Didn't think I'd ever hear that from you," Patroclus muttered into his cup of coffee and Achilles couldn't help a grin, but then he sobered up again.

"Don't you two feel like it's getting a little cramped here with all of us?"

Two sets of eyes, one uniformly green, the other in sharp contrast, blinked owlishly at him. The question was irrational to the two boys – they were attached at the hip ever since Neoptolemus had come to live with them.

"Not really," Zagreus said at last and lowered his head back down over his homework. "How the hell does this go from a fraction to the root of two here? I don't get it."

"I told you, look at the unit circle."

"I am looking, but I don't get that one either. Why are there triangles and squares in a damn circle?"

Achilles rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. At least he didn't have to worry about physics anymore, thank the gods. Patroclus sauntered over and put down a plate with sandwiches on the table between them all. Gratefully chanting a quick 'Thank you' in unison, the boys went in to grab some of them.

"Speaking of it, I heard the apartment across the hall, the one where Zagreus stayed before, was rented out recently," Patroclus said thoughtfully. "I saw the landlord today and he told me we'd be getting a new neighbor."

"Oh? Well. Sure didn't take long. I haven't seen anyone moving in, though, and there hasn't been anyone around we don't already know," Achilles responded with a little frown, but Patroclus only shrugged at that.

"Apparently they haven't arrived yet. We only talked briefly. He seemed pretty content to have found a new tenant so quickly."

Achilles nodded and pushed his chair back to get up with a flourish.

"Boys, you ready to leave in a few? You have practice today. The tournament is next week."

Eagerly, the two of them scrambled to their feet as well. Telling their teachers they hadn't done their homework because of training was always an excuse that worked pretty well. Even Odysseus, who was usually adamant about them handing in papers and homework on time, was lenient with the students who were also part of the Myrmidons. For a few years now, they had always been pushed under by some other schools at any sports tournament, and he was hoping as much as anyone else that this year, they would make it at least onto the podium for a change.

The national volleyball tournament was coming up sooner than expected. It had felt so far away before, but now the entire Myrmidon team was vibrating with eagerness whenever they saw the date circled with red marker in all their school planners. Since Neoptolemus had joined the team, their hopes of actually winning had surged. Thetis had made him play all sorts of sports in his free time, volleyball being one of them, so he knew the drill better than anyone. After their first days of apprehension, the other Myrmidons had quickly come to appreciate his versatility on the court and now they were eager to shove it down the other schools' throats – especially Neoptolemus' old school.

They still hadn't quite forgiven the group of idiots who'd snuck onto campus and beaten them up in the gym.

Chapter Text

The air was so thick with tension that someone could've cut it with a knife. All the usual silly locker room banter was put on mute today, it seemed. In absolute silence, the Myrmidons got changed. Everywhere, their black, white and golden uniforms were scintillating against the neon lamps overhead.

"Ready?" Antilochus asked quietly once the last of them were done tightening their shoelaces and adjusting their shorts.

While they jogged out into the gym hall, Zagreus felt Neoptolemus' hand lightly brushing his arm. Looking up at his older brother, he found those jade-green eyes more intense than usual.

"If anyone gives you trouble, just let me deal with them," Neoptolemus said quietly so no one else on the team would hear.

"You think they're going to try something today?"

"They better not."

Neoptolemus' face had hardened into a grim mask and Zagreus could tell he meant it. There was no way anyone would dare to go up against him when he was like that. This gaze of his was enough to scare off even the seniors who regularly picked on freshmen and sophomores, and Zagreus was happy enough to tell them who his older brother was when they came over to pick on him. It always sent them scurrying. Nobody wanted to be on Neoptolemus' bad side.

One time Patroclus had told him that Achilles had been the same when he was young. Everyone, even his teachers, had respected him. Almost, Zagreus had refused to believe what he heard, but then he looked at Neoptolemus and his intense green eyes and could see how an adult might have flinched back from Achilles when he was about his son's age. Adulthood and Patroclus' love had mellowed Achilles, but sometimes, there still shone a bit of his old pride and arrogance from him. Now that he knew to look for it, Zagreus recognized the haughty look on his face.

Neoptolemus squeezed his arm, bringing him back into the present moment.

"Let's do good today, Zag, 'kay?" he whispered.

He was dead serious, Zagreus knew. He wanted to repent for his fuck-ups from before. Like a reassurance, Zagreus reached over to return the gesture.

"We know you will," he simply said and Neoptolemus seemed to flush, pleased with the trust they all put in him.

From the sidelines, Achilles watched, and Patroclus had promised them he'd be in a front-row seat up on the bleachers too. When the Myrmidons took their place to shake hands with the first team they'd play today, Zagreus could feel both their eyes on him still. He made a point of standing beside Neoptolemus and when he met Achilles' gaze, neither of them could help but smile.

Yes, the Myrmidons were notorious for being the mad ADHD-kids who couldn't sit still if their life depended on it, shouting and bouncing off the walls everywhere they went, but today, even Achilles couldn't help but laugh at how hyperactively the boys were whizzing around him, shoving their medals into his face. It took him nearly fifteen minutes to herd them back into the changing room and even then, he had to tell them twice to get dressed at last because they were all so busy recounting every little detail from their winning set that they just stood around, half in their uniforms, half in their casual clothes, for minutes on end, completely immersed in a conversation, talking over each other all the time.

By the time most of them were done changing, Achilles barged in one last time to warn them that the bus that would take them back to school was leaving soon and that he and Patroclus would drive ahead in their car.

"Can't you take us with you at least? Why do we have to take the bus?" Neoptolemus complained. He and Zagreus were two of the last people still in their uniforms because they'd been involved in a heated strategic debate up until now.

Achilles snorted. What could be more in-character for his posh son?

"Sorry, your highness, but you will have to make do with the bus. I'm taking the trophy and the prize money to the school treasury and I still have to hand in your attendance sheets and all. Meet you in the main hall afterwards. Behave, boys! Neo, you're responsible for now."

With that, he was gone, and Neoptolemus rolled his eyes, but the way he gazed at the now closed door was tender. Achilles had nominated him co-trainer and although he liked to grumble about it a lot, everyone knew Neoptolemus couldn't have been prouder that his father had chosen him to take responsibility for his younger teammates – especially since he was, like Achilles, trying for his bachelor degree in sports science and art.

Zagreus patted his back and quickly slipped into his shoes.

"Hurry up, I'll meet you by the bus!" he called while wrapping his grey scarf around his neck and rushed outside in the hopes of maybe catching Patroclus and get his opinion on their victory, but the car was already gone from the parking lot.

Not far away, the Myrmidons were filing into their bus. The art students in Neoptolemus' class, after hearing about their trip to nationals, had worked day and night on sewing and stitching and now the school's bus was decorated with a black and golden banner that read 'Black, gold, white – Myrmidons, fight!' in bold letters across. One of the windows opened and a waving arm appeared.

"Zag!" Automedon called. "Come on!"

Zagreus wanted to raise his hand in answer to show that he was coming when suddenly, his back prickled like it only did when someone was standing right behind him.

"Good game. You played so well."

The voice sounded oh so tired and yet—

Zagreus pulled his shoulders up until he could feel the soft fur collar of his jacket against his cheeks. If he turned around now, he would only be disappointed. He'd imagined this. Projected it. Hallucinated.

"You're not even looking at me now?" the voice muttered. "At least I left something for you as a Goodbye when I ran off. Give me credit for that. I could've just disappeared like you did."

Slowly, like he feared he might spook Thanatos if he moved too quickly, Zagreus turned to look at him. His hand that was clutching his gym bag suddenly trembled as if his nerves had been put under dangerously high voltage. There he was, tall and lean as ever, skin ashen, hands buried in the pockets of his long black coat.

And Thanatos smiled.

His eyes were still framed by dark circles, but they were no longer dull and fearful like a frightened animal's. They were lively, glowing golden like warm honey in the strange white light from the clouded winter sky.

"Than," Zagreus choked out, his throat tightening around the name like someone had turned the scarf around his neck into a noose and drawn it taut. He felt as breathless as if he'd just emerged from an ice-cold bath in the river.

"Sorry for leaving you," Thanatos said and lifted one hand to touch his fingers to Zagreus' cheek – reddened by the exertion of the tournament and the biting frost around them. "But I'm back now. And I'm never letting anyone stand between us again."

For a moment, he lowered his gaze, but then he raised it again and smiled once more, bright and blinding like pure sunlight. Zagreus could not help but stare. He had never seen Thanatos smile like this.

"Nyx?" he asked, almost a whisper. "Hypnos?"

"Safe," Thanatos replied, cupping his face. "Elsewhere. I went to your father. Told him I wasn't going to work for him any longer, and they weren't going to either. Now they're at a nice institution that offers them assisted living until they feel better. They say he drugged them with something to keep them compliant."

Zagreus thought of Nyx sitting still for hours, her soft voice talking to things only she could see, how she had often stood in the hallways looking around like she was lost, and he thought of Hypnos, always sleeping, always tired, always curled up somewhere in his thick red blanket, dozing off even right after waking up.

"Why didn't he drug us, then?"

"He needed me for the work outside that he wasn't able to do himself, I suppose. And you— I think he figured he didn't need to chain you to the house as much as us. You belonged there, after all. You had never seen anything of the outside world, you couldn't imagine that it was better somewhere else. He wasn't scared that you'd run away," said Thanatos and smiled faintly. "Lucky us, huh? If he'd drugged you as well, we wouldn't be here right now. Away from him."

It was true, Zagreus realized only now in wonder.

They were free.

Both of them.

Nobody would go after them now. Nobody was at risk to suffer Hades' wrath with all of them gone.

"What do you want with my little brother?" a cutting voice suddenly snarled and Zagreus' eyes flickered over to where Neoptolemus was towering over him protectively, his face a dark scowl as he scrutinized Thanatos up and down and, without looking back at Zagreus, asked, "Zag, you good?"

"Neo," Zagreus said quickly and tried to push him away a little. "It's alright. This is—"

"Thanatos," Thanatos replied. His voice was low and strangely possessive. "I am Zagreus' boyfriend."

A dizzying flush of heat washed over Zagreus' face. Above his head, Thanatos and Neoptolemus exchanged lightning-charged glares. Then, Thanatos held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you."

Still reluctant but slightly appeased, Neoptolemus shook it. Then he gave Zagreus a slight nudge.

"You too. We have to go now, Zag. Come on, the bus is waiting."

The bus could wait another twenty years for all Zagreus cared. He just wanted to stand there and look at Thanatos smiling and think about how he had just said they were boyfriends.

"Go ahead," he said absent-mindedly. "I'll catch up."

Neoptolemus shifted, visibly uneasy, but then he trudged off, probably to tell the bus driver that they couldn't leave yet. Once he had disappeared up the steps behind the tinted windows, Thanatos breathed softly and leaned forward. His lips brushed Zagreus' mouth, lightly, like the wings of a butterfly.

"Tell him you're mine when you get home," he whispered. "Tell him I'm looking out for you now."

"You are?" Zagreus asked and hated how choked he sounded again.

"Yes."

"Forever?"

"And a day," Thanatos said and kissed him again.

His hand reached for Zagreus' and pushed something cool and smooth into his palm. Looking down at it, nearly breathless, Zagreus saw that it was a key. A familiar one. The one he'd received from the landlord upon signing his rental contract for the small, cozy apartment just across the hall from Achilles' and Patroclus' flat. The one he'd given back not too long ago. The one supposed to belong to the new tenant there now.

"My spare one," Thanatos said, looking embarrassed himself this time. "If you want it, I mean. If you ever want to come over or… or stay, you know. Forever."

"And a day?" Zagreus asked and he couldn't help but smile.

They stood, holding each other's hands like they'd done as children, and didn't hear the bus honking its horn behind them.

"I love you, Zagreus," Thanatos said.

Then it began to snow.