You’ve always been like a daughter to Achilles. Even though you’re only his step-daughter, he still treats you like his own daughter. And when Patroclus died, it broke him. He just lost his boyfriend, his lover. And it broke you too, considering that was your father. But you’ve never said a word, continuing to take care of him and the house and doing whatever you can to make sure he’s okay. You don’t say how badly it hurts, instead focusing on Achilles and how he’s handling everything. In your mind he’s your father, so you should worry about him, not yourself. So that’s exactly what you do. You spend every second of every day taking care of him, bringing him what he needs, cooking and cleaning, doing whatever you need to do to make sure the house is in good condition and Achilles is doing at least somewhat alright. And even though you’re not doing okay yourself, you still focus on him, making sure everything’s in order. And recently, disaster has struck. Achilles has fallen deathly sick, and you’re scared. You don’t wanna lose him too, you’re only twelve, you can’t lose another parent. You’ve done everything you can to keep him alive, but he’s getting worse by the day. And now, you’ve just found out this could very well be his last day to live. And you’re terrified. So now, you’re silently sitting by his bedside, putting a cloth to his forehead to bring down his fever and praying silently to the Gods. That’s when he stops you, gently holding your small, delicate hand as he speaks, his voice a raspy whisper Achilles: whispering Don’t… I-it’s useless… I don’t think I’ll make it, hon… you desperately respond, your words shaking from fear and worry, tears starting to well in your eyes