A/N: Spoilers for 1.04. This story is a definite departure from my usual style – darker and is told from the second person POV. Quote once again featured in Criminal Minds.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the BBC unless we're living in my dreams.
To Die a Musketeer
Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside of us while we live. - Norman Cousins
It's been five years since that day but you can still hear the cries as clearly as you did that night. They haunt you – softer echoes when you're awake, but morphing into a din of death and despair the moment you close your eyes. It's why you don't sleep much anymore. But it's just as well; it gives you more time to focus on your mission: find the culprits, bring them to justice. And so you endure – a musket for hire with thieves for company and one eye on the door. It's a precarious existence and you almost despair when it seems that fate for once has chosen to favour you.
It'd been a hard day, worst than usual; bad enough that you slink to the nearest (cheapest) tavern, fully intending to drink yourself to oblivion. But before the first drop can touch your lips a sound catches your attention, and as you focus in on the noise you feel the fury growing within you. It takes every ounce of self-control not to go over and slit the bastard's throat, but you need him. He might have been one of them, but he did not lead the charge, but he might know who did. So you watch; you follow; you wait for the opportune moment. It comes soon enough, and drunk as he is, he's easily overpowered. Once you have him, it's just as you thought: he's a coward. He gives up his employer quick enough – the name, however, surprises you: the Duke of Savoy. Your heart sinks – for how could you possibly bring such a powerful man to justice?
You head for Paris. You're a wanted man, but it's all you can think to do. Once the truth is revealed, something will have to be done. Treason must always be paid for. And if you can accomplish that, it's worth your life. Shock and despair greet you at your old home. Shock that the duke is to arrive any day and despair at the reminder that he is not only the Duke of Savoy, but the king's brother by marriage. You'd like to believe that justice would be done regardless, but you're not that naïve – you know that blood is thicker than water. The feeling is near overwhelming until suddenly you realize that this might be to your advantage. You could never have gotten to him in Savoy, but here, in Paris, on familiar palace grounds…
You plan; you wait; you go. The sun beats down with an oppressive heat, but you pay it no mind. Nor do you spare a thought for the men on parade – your world has narrowed to one man. Finally he arrives and you take aim. Five years ago you would have made that shot. Five years ago you were a musketeer. You scarce have time to bemoan that fact as the adrenaline rushes through you, your mind screaming at you to run. It's a strange feeling: running for your life as if it's something worth saving, but this time you have a cause and you cannot, will not fail again.
You hide as you see the familiar blue cloak standing at your escape route and your mind races trying to find a solution that does not involve yet the death of another brother. It's only as he turns that hope once again stirs within you. Aramis. Surely this is fate: the one man will understand, who will listen, who will help is here. You come up behind him; he bests you easily. He's angry, which in hindsight you should have expected. After all, as he rightly points out, you did abandon him. Fortunately for you it's not enough that he will refuse to listen.
You both tense at the sound of a pistol cocking and, as you look over, you're surprised to see a boy staring back. He's not a musketeer, but Aramis speaks to him as a friend and equal. Again, fortune seems to smile, as the boy apparently feels the same. They take you to a house, where the boy is letting a room, and it breaks your heart when Aramis begins to bind your wrists. He doesn't trust you. That should have been the first sign that the other boot was about to drop. Yet after even everything, you can't help but feel shock and betrayal when Aramis next appears with two new musketeers at his side. You let out the breath when you realize that Aramis considers them friends – perhaps they are not among those that Aramis mentioned. Again, you should have known better. You especially dislike the way the older one looks at you – he has no right to judge. So, of course, it has to be him that breaks you. Well, him and Aramis.
"If you're not satisfied, I'll do whatever you suggest."
As Aramis turns to lock eyes with his brother, you feel your heart shatter in a way that did not think possible anymore. But in that moment you know – you've lost him, and his loss hurts more than any of the others. He has new brothers now and nothing, not even Savoy, will cause him to choose you over them. And you might have crumbled at this revelation if not for one thing – the last thing that remains for you: revenge. You take them to your prisoner and you'd almost be surprised at hearing Treville's name, except that you're too numb to feel anything. Anything but rage, that is. And slitting that bastard's throat only makes you want more. But even that is to be denied to you because the others don't trust you; because, as was pointed out, you're no longer a musketeer.
You change your mind – it's the boy you hate above all. You push aside the voice in your head that whispers that it's not hate but jealously. His shoulder is bare, but that's where the similarities end. The others guard him as they would a brother and more than that it's obvious that he has not only their love, but their respect and trust. The realization is like a bitter bile in your throat and just when you think you can't sink any lower you find yourself staring up at him after nearly forcing yourself on the lady of the house. It's then you realize that there's no going back. Five years lying with dogs and you've picked up far more than fleas. The man you were is a distant memory and now but one thing remains. And then, then nothing will matter. But fate it seems has one last twist.
You should know better than to allow yourself to hope, but you can't help it when Aramis marches in – a fury in his eyes that (finally) mirrors your own. For a moment you imagine what it will be like: the two of you ending it, shoulder-to-shoulder as you stood before. It's beautiful and glorious and gone all too soon. Like a vapour it vanishes the second he reveals that he's not here to fight, but to say goodbye. You shake your head in disbelief at his plan – surely he knows that no court will ever give him justice, not with the Cardinal involved.
"It's not my way."
For the second time you feel your heart shatter as you feel his hands around your face and your eyes lock with his – your last friend and brother. You want to call him naïve, but you know that's not true. He's just good, a better man than you'll ever be. Vaguely, you hear his voice telling you to run – it's his way of saying he loves you and goodbye. And it is, just not in the way he thinks. As he slumps to the floor you promise him one last thing. This, this will be your legacy and your last gift to him.
You catch sight of your target as you march towards the armory and once again a familiar fire fills your heart. His back is to you and it would be so easy finish this now – too easy. No, you want him to see it coming. To know the helplessness of your brothers; to understand what it is to look death in the face and know that you can do nothing to stop it. But more than that you want a confession, you want to know why. And then it comes, the last twist: Aramis enters, the truth is revealed and fire turns to ash. There will be no reckoning, no justice – it's all been for naught. And truly, now, only one thing remains. You should do it yourself, but you've always been a coward. So you make him do it. The pain is agonizing but it lasts for but a moment, quickly replaced by the warmth of your brother's embrace. As you look into his eyes, you only wish that this had happened five years ago. Five years ago this would have been a death you could be proud of, now it's more than you deserve. Soon, the darkness encroaches on your vision and you've never been gladder for it. As it consumes you, you feel your heart grow lighter than you can ever remember. And as you begin to float, you swear that you hear a voice in the distance.
"Rest now Marsac…with your brothers."