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“i love you, roach”

Ah,

Those four simple words, full of so much love and adoration, were enough to kill. He wasn’t Roach, he would never be Roach- the man who holds his lovers heart even in death.

He can’t even be mad at him

“fuck- soap, Johnny, im sorry. i just slipped-“

He stood and took Ghost's hand off his, like it burned- felt like it did, and tried to look at anything that wasn’t him. They were in Ghost's room, thankful he could escape from this waking nightmare without having to wait another second.

He can feel the burn in the back of his eyes, tries to blink it away but that only seems to make it worse, he can’t bare to be in the same space as the man he loves

but he doesn't love you, never has, not even then…

“Just- don’t… Simon. i can’t- can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt me, when you call his name instead of mine. I can’t keep waiting around, breaking my heart over and over, hoping you’ll remem- return… these feelings i have for you. i just-”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. reaching for the door, he turned his head to glance at the man that held his heart- is his heart, one last time.

“i can’t do this anymore, Simon. I can’t love a man who won’t ever love me back”

He stood there for a moment, hand on the door, hoping he’d say something, anything, tell me to stay- tell me you love me- tell me you remember.

silence

he sighed and turned back to the door and opened it.

“It’s john… my name, since you’ve seemed to have forgotten”

Ghost just sat there, not even raising his head to acknowledge him, not making a sound, and any guilty thought that he was being selfish left- along with the last of his hope.

He turned back and stepped out of the room he used to feel safe in, used to feel like home, and slammed the door behind him.

He couldn’t stop the tears now, blinked too many times and now it was all rushing out. Trying to navigate his way back to his room was nearly impossible, thankfully it was mostly deserted.

But of course luck was never on his side, when he finally noticed the two figures talking near the end of the hall. He looked around for another way, before they noticed him crying his eyes out leaving his Lieutenant room- God the rumors that would start.

Though maybe Tyche was being kind to him as he quickly realized the pair talking were not some random recruits but his fellow German teammates.

König turned their head slightly when he saw him in his peripheral, Hyacinth following when they noticed he had looked away

He gave up on finding an out as the two started to approach him, speeding up when they noticed the tears dripping down his face.

“Mein liebe! Why do you cry? who do i need to kill” the shorter german latched their hands onto his shoulders, pulling him in to inspect him, while the taller stared down at him concerningly.

He knows he can tell them, he has before, they’re just like him, but he can’t seem to get the words out of what he needs.

He took a watery breath before looking directly into the shorters eyes, praying to the gods they'd be able to understand by his look alone. It seemed to have worked as a look of recognition passed their features before turning into one of pity.

“Oh Patroclus”

That was all it took.

Those words had him falling to his knees, painfully colliding with the cement but gods he could care less.

If he was in any other state of mind he would call himself pathetic at how he crumbled into their arms- just because they spoke his name with such sorrow and remorse.

“He does not remember, and i feel like such a- a fool”

He spit the last word out with as much self loathing as he could manage, the tears still refused to let up.

“He loved another, in this life, and i can’t bring myself to hate him because- because he doesn’t remember”

He shuddered as he tried to get more air into his lungs through his relentless cries

”His life, his mother, the war, me, none of it. I feel as if i’ve gone mad”

It was Königs turn to join them on the cool floor, wrapping her arms around the two of them in a half hug. The tall german bent his head down to look him in the eyes

“You haven’t gone mad φίλος μου, you are perfectly sane” she hesitated for just a moment

“are- are you sure it is him?”

He tried to not get mad, he knows König ment well- they’ve had this talk before when Ghost first called the wrong name.

“Yes, yes, gods… i’m sure” he looked up at them both, hoping his eyes could tell them how dead sure he was

“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would- have- know him in death, at the end of the world”

His breath was staggered as he finished, his words sinking in to the ones holding him so softly- as if he would break. They both gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach their eyes, the pain in his chest becoming more prominent with their silence.

Hyacinth, after awhile, gave a sad chuckle

“And they call me the 10th muse, give me a lyre and we’ll make a poet out of you yet”

He laughed softly at that, still feeling the ache of his sorrows, but being with people like him- who truly knew him, numbed it a bit. He doesn’t think he’ll ever rid of this pain- unrequited love was cruel- he thinks he might die, but maybe with time he might learn to live again.

“Honestly, I wish I were dead”

Giving a slight smirk up at the shorter as he spoke, who, in return, gave a small smack to his arm

“Trying to steal my job now my words? shame mein liebe shame”

They laughed, his tears having run dried, and picked themselves off the floor. They would have to talk more about what had happened and figure out what to do from there- but that was laters problem

now, they drink.

Chapter Text

“Alas, how terribly we suffer, Sappho” 

Soap took a swig of his drink, relishing in the burn it gave, while glancing at the shorter lieutenant- a smirk forming when they let out a sigh. 

“You think you are funny, don’t you” they glared at him but there wasn’t any heat in it, if the mirth in their eyes was anything to go by.

The three had decided to go to the small kitchen in the back of the base that only their Task Force had access to- one of the few perks he enjoys. König grabbing the alcohol, Hyacinth fetching the glasses, and him pulling up the seats. 

“I do, Achilles always said as such.. back then. i'd like to believe my humor carried on in this life”

he winked before raising his glass for another- longer- sip, the sting distracting him from the ache in his chest at his past lover's name.

Only for now, he’d have to remind himself, he couldn’t drown his sorrows in alcohol forever. This job meant more to him than anything, he didn’t really have much else outside of it. He’d like to keep it. 

Taking a glance over at the other German, who hadn’t said a word since they’d sat down, he noticed she was reaching to remove her hood.

They’ve seen König’s face before, it still felt weird but he assumes that’s cause the only other masked individual he’s met has been Ghost- and he never took his off. 

König was pretty, not conventionally so but who really cared about that. They had golden- ginger hair that was cut short, making its curls more prominent. Freckles littered his pale skin along with a scar that ran from their lip to their cheek. There's another scar that ran across her nose, which was tall and bumped- “it’s called a roman nose i think, mines crooked cause i broke it like… twice” 

They also had heterochromia, brown blue, which just made him even cooler. König didn’t agree.

All around König was a nice looking person, Soap could admit that. Hyacinth could easily admit that- shameless in their praising of the taller German- “you know what they say about big nos- HEY don’t hit me i’m right?!?” 

König sighed as he laid the sniper hood on the table, taking a sip of the drink that was poured for him. Sitting in silence for a while longer, regrouping their thoughts and enjoying the buzz from the alcohol. 

“When… when did you guys remember? i, uh, realize we’ve never actually talked about that which is weird since we’ve known each other for awhile….” 

König cut off their rambling with another awkward sip of their drink and a side eye towards the other two- who looked in thought for a moment. 

“Probably when I was a kid, always had an affinity for poetry, music, literature. I started having waking dreams? memories i guess, of a life that wasn’t mine” they took a sip 

“thought i’d gone mad for while, but then i read about reincarnation, greek religion, and Sappho and it all came rushin back- i could speak greek fluently, when i was young, write and read it too” 

They refilled their cups, and took a long sip, signaling they were done talking. They both looked too König. 

“Ah, we’ll. I didn’t always have very bad anxiety, but when you start remembering a life that’s not yours- one where you were baited into opening a box full of all the evil in the world… makes you.. paranoid i guess is the word” 

She glanced away from them before continuing 

“Since I was little I could read Greek, speak it too, confused my parents when they were trying to teach me German. I started having this fear that everyone knew it was me- i released the evils into the world and they all knew it and hated me. started “acting out” the teacher said.. i guess it’s easier to label a child “a problem” then actually try and help them…”

She looked like she wanted to say more, could probably go on for a while if he wanted to about the hell that was growing up with dreams of guilt and fear- being the first mortal, just a pawn to the gods. 

She looked down at her drink and didn’t say anymore. 

“I was always a weird kid, what my parents said anyway, my tongue getting me in more trouble than it’s worth. They eventually took me to a nice lady who said i have ADHD, but that didn’t explain the dreams and memories” 

He looked into his glass, as if it held all the answers to his problems

“the names Achilles & Patroclus kept coming up, a lot. So I went to the local library, researched, and found The Iliad . I started remembering more and more till the point I was confusing this life and that one. I didn’t even realize till a friend pointed it out that the dam book was in greek”

he huffed 

“I didn’t dare tell my mum, she was already goin through enough, and didn't want to add to it. So I kept the fact that I genuinely believed I was Patroclus, and could understand Greek, to myself. Till i met you’ll of course” 

His younger years were confusing, and he felt like he didn’t have anyone to talk to, they'd call him crazy and most definitely not believe him. The memories, the grief he felt, that was real. 

“Well, we all started getting these “visions”- I guess we could call em’- around the same age. very interesting…”  

Sappho finished off their drink before standing and collecting their empty glasses. 

He didn’t understand, Sappho was a real person, but Patroclus and Pandora were considered myths- stories. The memories he had were nothing like how they were portrayed in media, so maybe they were real? the gods and fates too- only they could be so cruel to make them live again.

Sometimes he wishes he stayed dead the first time. He would never see Achilles again- but he doesn’t remember him anyways so what’s the point, really, in doing this all again 

“The fates are cruel for this, we could have had normal lives in ignorant bliss- but instead they haunt us with are mistakes, are whole lives over again” 

König- Pandora, looked more pained as the sergeant spoke, she probably had the worst life out of all of them. Created for petty revenge, tempted and then blamed for all the misery in the world- while the men and gods go unquestioned. 

Sappho came up and held the other Germans hand to her chest, in a form of comfort.

 “We all have been tested by the fates, this is no different. We will not let them push us around this time- i have a feeling at least a few of the God are looking out for us” 

He scoffed “I doubt they care, truly, why would we be left to suffer if they did?” 

He doubted the Gods were watching them, probably put them here and left without another fault, or maybe they wanted new toys to mess with for entertainment. That seemed to be the only thing humans were good for.

“I still pray to Aphrodite, she has given me signs that she is.. watching at the very least. Lots of people still believe in the Gods, Patroclus, they aren’t heartless like you assume” 

Maybe Aphrodite can fix the mess he has found himself in, unrequited- unremembered love. 

“Maybe.. I will not be holding my breath for hope. I will try and move on- for now, and focus on this job” 

that’s all he could do, anything to distract him from the hole forming in his chest from the pain he just can’t stop thinking about

The three gathered themselves up, pushing in their chairs- he doesn’t need Price throwing a “Dad Fit” at him again, and they left to turn in for the night. 

Tomorrow would be a new day 

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