Work Text
30th June 2012
It was warm out, warmer than they had been expecting, but Achilles was prepared, a small backpack tucked under the flag draped around his shoulders. He hated feeling thirsty, had gone through lack of water too many times, and needed the comfort of extra water when it was possible. He took Patroclus’ hand as their train slowed to a halt in the station and pressed a kiss into the messy curls, "You ready?"
His boyfriend nodded and together they happily pushed through the crowd. It was busy, but nothing different to normal, late morning commuters parted before them as they made their way to street level, the noise of the collected people hitting them like a wall. The couple laughed and waved at a couple of people they knew as they made their way into the crowd. This was their first proper pride parade of their current incarnations and they wanted to make the most of it. In previous incarnations, they had been able to take part in the event, but the memories of it were forever marred by the public displeasure and the police brutality that they often experienced. Today they were hoping for something purely happy for once.
The couple stopped in front of some of the stall displays and Achilles noticed an asexuality stand that was displaying the demisexual flag. He made a mental note to mention it to Patroclus when they were finished looking around, he knew his boyfriend had some questions to ask that neither of them was able to answer by themselves.
"Achilles…," Patroclus pulled on his boyfriend's arm, making Achilles turn from the display he was looking at, as he pointed wildly at a couple across the street from them. "Look who it is."
Achilles raised an eyebrow, scanning through the crowd for someone that he recognised, "Where babe?"
"Alexander!" Patroclus shouted, making a beeline for two men that stopped and turned towards him at the call. He tackled the shorter one in a tight hug, knocking his bi pride flag off his shoulders. The man shouted out and tried to get away from Patroclus, but stopped still when he saw Achilles come to a stop in front of them.
"Anthony?" Alexander’s voice was a whisper and John gasped in shock beside him.
"Patrick? Anthony? But…how?"
Patroclus pulled back and tackled John in an equally as tight hug. The taller man didn’t respond for the shock but then tightly wrapped his arms around Patroclus’ shoulders, spinning the older man around as he laughed in pure delight, he didn’t want to ever let go.
Patrick had been his best friend, someone he could relay all of his secrets to, even the most intimate of thoughts the sometimes disgusted even John. When he had died, a part of John had died with him, he was never the same man after that winter at Valley Forge. The battles they engaged in from that point on were bloodier, John was more reckless than ever and ended up peppered with more injuries than most living men still in the army. He didn’t care for his life, threw himself into tiny skirmishes with the gusto that would normally come with a fight to the death. Alexander had confided in him when they found each other this time, that he was angry with Patrick for dying unnecessarily, and blamed him for causing John’s death. John could tell from the way he was currently holding Patrick tight to his chest that he no longer believed that. He was just glad to have his friend back.
Achilles couldn’t hold himself back from grabbing John in a bone-crushing hug. They made many friends in all their different incarnations, but rarely did they ever make the same kind of impression that John or Alexander did.
"But…," John pulled back, unwilling to be parted from the hug but needing the answers that only Patroclus and Achilles could provide. He tried to think back to before, the way they interacted around camp, the bond they seemed to share without any explanation. The secret conversations they would have in what Alexander tried to convince John was the Ancient Greek he learned to read at college. They always seemed just a step out of time, a little too much knowledge about what they were doing for their age. This time he saw them, John had wider access to knowledge that only a select few had. The penny dropped. "You knew each other before. Who were you?"
"This isn’t a conversation for the street," Patroclus said softly and glanced around them. A few people were already becoming interested in their little group, especially after the show they had made of introducing themselves again. Patroclus pointed to the packed coffee shop to their left and grabbed Achilles had to drag him over. "In there. It’ll be too loud to overhear anything." The small group of four nodded and made their way into the coffee shop. Pushing for a small table in the back corner, Alexander and Achilles sat down, while John and Patroclus got drinks for the four of them. Once the group was sat down with an eclectic mix of drink, large black coffee for Alexander, iced sugary frappuccino for Achilles, herbal tea for Patroclus and a regular coffee for John they continued their conversation
"Shall we tell him? I think we’ve kept our little lion waiting long enough," Achilles laughed and slung his arm around Patroclus’ shoulders, dodging Alexander's hand as he reached to bat him around the head from across the table. The younger man nodded, rolling his eyes at their antics and leaned into his boyfriend's touch. Achilles turned to John and Alexander, tilting his head to Patroclus. "Ask him how many languages he knows?" Patroclus blushed at Achilles bragging but knew he wasn’t just going to make it outright easy for them. Alexander always loved a puzzle, what bigger puzzle was there than their history.
"Ok, I’ll bite," Alexander studied them for a second, biting on his lip as he thought. He knew they were together now, had been during the war and must have been together at least two times before that for how well they knew each other. He decided they must have been very important, whoever they were originally, Alexander and John had been told before they came back this time that couples were the minority of a very small minority when it came to reincarnation and very rarely stayed together unless they were soulmates. The being they had spoken to had alluded to a pair of soulmates that had been together for many reincarnations, Alexander knew that Patrick and Anthony were that pairing. "Five."
"Thirteen." Patroclus blushed as John raised an eyebrow, Alexander letting out a low impressed whistle.
"Now that’s interesting. Don’t leave us hanging, where did you learn all those?"
Patroclus sighed and pushed Achilles away with an affectionate eye roll, "We’ve been together thousands of years. Our names always start with the first letter of the anglicised version of our names," He leaned forward and took one of Alexander’s hands off his coffee cup, lips ghosting over the remnants of ink stains as he kissed his fingers. He saw the other man blush and smiled. They had been close, intimately close without being together during the war, often sharing kisses and touches while conserving body heat in their winter camp, and Patroclus was holding onto some hope that they could continue like that once their histories were revealed. "You studied us at college, would tell Patrick and Anthony the stories of the people they used to be while they would sit and try not to laugh about what was right and what was completely made up." Patroclus sat back, hand intertwining with his Achilles while they waited for the penny to drop. He let Alexander sit and think for a second, watching as the realisation dawned upon him.
"You’re not…you’re…he’s," He pointed to Achilles and his face paled. "Aristos Achaion. Oh my god,…we fought alongside Achilles? John, pinch me, tell me I’m dreaming." John’s face was the picture of shock as Alexander rambled on but then he smiled, grabbing Achilles hand and shook it.
"Nice to be properly introduced man."
"And you too John," He pulled back and smiled affectionately at Alexander’s star-struck face. "Doesn’t mean we’re anyone different, still Anthony and Patrick and they were still us. We still know you two as well as we know each other."
"But…you’re two of the most well known gay lovers in history, I mean if we ignore Hollywood’s attempts to make you cousins, that must have been weird," The two older reincarnates rolled their eyes and nodded as John spoke. "If you’ve been around since then…god the number of lives you must have lived. The history you’ve experienced?"
Achilles shrugged but nodded, "We’ve learned to be cautious, not take too much of a side before properly figuring people out. Talking about famous, what about you Mr. Treasury Sectary, only man not president on a banknote," Achilles teased and Alexander puffed his chest up proudly. John rolled his eyes and elbowed him playfully in the side. Achilles narrowed his eyes and glared at John and the other man folded back in on himself. "And don’t think I’m done with you. You were 90% of his impulse control, Washington the other 10%. With both of you gone, what did he go and do, get himself shot." John sat where he was, head lowered slightly in shame, and accepted the reprimand.
Achilles always told him to be more careful when they were fighting, John had gotten injured in every battle they had fought in, he wasn’t careful enough in the field, and that had resulted in him dying long before his Alexander, and miles away from him. The only thing his love received was a barbed letter from John’s father and the knowledge that John’s loving replies to Alexander’s letters had never reached their mark. Alexander only had his memories to carry him through the next twenty years of his life alone.
Achilles shook his head slowly but smiled sadly, "Look, John, I don’t mean to be so harsh. I know that feeling, but I lived days after at most, he lived another twenty years...I don’t know how you didn’t go mad Alexander." He turned to the aforementioned man, who shrugged, but everyone could see the way his grip on John’s hand tightened. Patroclus didn’t want this to be awkward.
"We get reincarnated to fight in wars. The biggest that comes around. Troy…the Crusades…the Revolution…the Civil War," Achilles face darkened and John raised a casual eyebrow at the look. Patroclus sighed and patted Achilles gently on the arm before continuing. "That one was hard, we fought on opposite sides for the first time. Both world wars…Ireland. This is our war this time," He lifted their joined hands and motioned to the people that had amassed around them in the coffee shop. "We fight for equality. We were both around this age in London in the ’80s. The miner's strike, gay rights…we grew up around it. Died and came back around in the early ’90s, quickest we’ve ever come back, I don’t even think we were dead a year, and we were back in America again. So much is happening, we have so many battles to fight."
Achilles laughed softly and pulled the younger man into his side, "And we can’t wait to start it all again." He leaned in and whispered in Patroclus ear, "Should I ask them?" He nodded, the smile almost splitting his face with how wide it was. Achilles turned back to look at the two slightly confused younger men and smiled just as brightly, "We’re getting married. In a week, just a signing at the courthouse, it’s all we’ve got time for, but it’s the first time that we can. Say you’ll come?"
The two younger men glanced at each other and broke out into mirrored bright smiles, they had their own secret to tell their pair of oldest friends, but that would come in time. "Of course we’ll come." John took Achilles’ hand under the table and Alexander Patroclus’. They were together again, after so many years apart, and nothing was going to separate them again.