Summary: A quick little oneshot in which Achilles learns to cope with his recurring nightmares of the dead in Hades. NO slash, as usual. Please enjoy, and feel free to review!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Achilles or Patroclus, but I still think they're both so cute and so very fun to write with!

Author's Note: This fic has been written in honor of my dear friend Whilom's 18th Birthday! Happy B-Day, girl, I hope your day is great and full of wonderful memories! So she and Patty may not be "twins" anymore, but Whilom dear, I'm trusting you will still get plenty of enjoyment out of this, a humble little birthday gift from me to you! My goal here is to bring a birthday smile to your face and make you go "Awww" at the hopefully sweet fluffiness of it all! Love you!

A Better Way

"Welcome." The shade extended a shimmering hand, beckoning him to join them on the far side of the River Styx. As always.

"Welcome, Brother…"

Achilles' eyes snapped open, and he sat up in bed with a sharp gasp. His gaze darted around the room, fearful that this time he truly would find himself trapped in the Underworld. But, no – he was safe within the shelter of his own room. Yet his breath was still shaky, and his hands trembled slightly. Only these dreams could make him tremble.

The fearsome warrior swung his legs over the side of the bed and leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. Nights like this were so tiresome. If tradition held true, he would find no more sleep tonight. Not without some help, at least.

Rising to his feet, Achilles slipped into a dark blue robe and made his way into the home's small kitchen. His hand reached for a familiar shelf and found the equally familiar wineskin. A few draughts later, and he could already feel his turbulent thoughts settling, as indeed they always did after he'd had enough to drink.

But as he began to slowly wander back toward his room, downing more of the tranquilizing liquid along the way, he was disgusted with himself. It had not seemed so significant the first few times, but how long could it go on? Would he truly allow himself to be a slave to this vice for the rest of his life? There simply had to be a better way to cope with the horror of these dreams that plagued him! Had to be a better way…

A soft sniffle broke into his musings then, and Achilles was startled to find himself standing outside his cousin's bedroom, from which the sound must have come. The blonde warrior silently pushed the door open a crack and peered inside. The small figure on the bed was lying deceptively still, but a slight shaking beneath the covers and another muffled whimper confirmed that the boy was indeed awake.

Achilles frowned. It was only Patroclus' second night here in his new home, and he had appeared so hopelessly weary earlier that Achilles wondered why his cousin wasn't sleeping soundly. But in his heart, he already knew the answer. Patroclus desperately missed his parents, who had both drowned in a shipwreck only five days prior. The ten-year-old was now in Achilles' care, and it was obvious they were both still adjusting to the new arrangement. In all likelihood, Patroclus hadn't slept much the previous night, either.

Achilles felt a sudden pang of sympathy for his little cousin, for this child who suffered from the same sleeplessness as he did and chose to cope by crying to himself, all alone in a strange room in the middle of the night. His mother's words of wisdom came back to him then, lessons she had striven to teach him over the years about taking your eyes off yourself and thinking of others first. Those words had never seemed more true than they did right now. Perhaps the best way to conquer his own fears and nightmares was to help someone else overcome theirs.

So with hardly another thought, he discarded the wineskin on the floor and quietly entered his cousin's room.

"Patroclus?"

The boy started at hearing his name called so suddenly, and he jerked his head upward to face the doorway.

"I'm sorry, Cousin," he stammered hastily. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Achilles shook his head. "No, no. I was already awake. I can't sleep, either." He slowly walked over and sat on the edge of the child's bed. "Are you all right, Cousin?"

The boy nodded a quick response, but a pitiful little hiccup and the lingering tremble in his shoulders begged to argue otherwise. He was trying so hard not to cry, not to betray his childish weakness.

Achilles, on his part, wasn't entirely sure what to say or how he was to offer comfort. He settled for simply laying a hand on his cousin's back and was shocked to see how much of Patroclus' back his single hand covered. This child was so small! A bit tall and gangly for his age, perhaps, but nevertheless delicate.

A shudder passed through the frail body under his palm, and without fully knowing what had possessed him, Achilles gently scooped up the child in his strong, man-slaying arms and pulled Patroclus onto his lap.

The boy in turn slumped against him, wholly unresisting, and buried his face against his guardian's sturdy shoulder. Exhaustion coupled with unprecedented sorrow overcame him at last, and he cried openly, pouring his tears onto his cousin's robe.

Achilles wordlessly wrapped a corner of the blue garment around his charge and surrounded the child in the protective shelter of his warrior's arms. Patroclus shook helplessly within his grasp.

"I miss them," he whispered miserably, reaching up with his slim arms to encircle his cousin's neck.

"I know," Achilles murmured back as soothingly as he could. Somehow, in light of a child's sorrow, it was surprisingly easy for this hardened killer to soften his calloused heart. "I know."

He moved a hand to the back of the boy's blonde head, tenderly stroking his hair and rubbing the tense, wearied muscles at the nape of his neck. Patroclus responded by choking out another sob and clinging to him tighter still. No more words passed between them, but none needed to be said. Time passed slowly, but for both cousins, it could not have been slow enough.

Patroclus eventually fell asleep in his caretaker's arms, and Achilles stayed there long after, until the cold grey light of dawn first lit the sky. His own dreams did not cease after that night, but for some reason, they no longer seemed so painful. And whenever they did come back to haunt him, he would escape by simply watching his little cousin in the dark while he slept. Thank the gods, he had found a better way!

HAPPY BIRHTDAY, WHILOM!