Author's note: This is a short one-shot. I just felt like writing a story about D'Artagnan getting sick. Hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters
Warning: un-betaed
Athos, Aramis and Porthos, the inseparables, exchanged worried looks as d'Artagnan tried to cover another cough by clearing his throat. Athos was the first to notice the newest member of their regiment wasn't quite himself. Their morning spar lacked the young man's exuberant commentary and his footing was much more sluggish. Aramis became concerned when a short run after a pick-pocket left him out of breath and pale, contrary to his usual fitness. Porthos was the last to see the signs. The boy wasn't eating much during the day. However, he did drink plenty of water. The three men exchanged information after finishing their patrols and determined d'Artagnan was indeed ill. D'Artagnan may be new to their fold, but they know him well enough to know the boy will not take kindly to them hovering over him or taking him off his duties to rest. They prayed it was only a common cold and that he will recover on his own. However, it didn't mean that they would not be keeping an eye out on the boy over the next few days.
D'Artagnan sat at the tavern with his friends. This was his favourite time of the day. Supper was always made more enjoyable due to the company he shared. Granted he shared more than supper with the Musketeers but this was the only time of the day where he could relax. However, today was less enjoyable due to a sore throat, persisting cough and a heat despite being close to winter.
Aramis eyed d'Artagnan as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. The boy was exhausted. He looked at the others and nudged his head towards their friend. Athos nodded, understanding what Aramis was saying. D'Artagnan needed an early night and that would not happen as long as he was enjoying his friends' company. Aramis stood, feigning looking at the waitress across the room. "I think I've found my entertainment for the evening." He pulled on his hat. "I bid you all a good night."
D'Artagnan wore an amused frown as he turned to see who the lucky woman was. He rose his eyebrows. "Esther?" He shook his head as Aramis wrapping his arms around the woman. "She's here every night!"
"True, but he does need to wake up with at least one member of the opposite sex and it seems they are a little lacking this evening." Athos finished off his bottle. "I will be turning in early myself. It seems the day's duties have left me a little weary."
"You've only finished one bottle, Athos." D'Artagnan was finding his friends a little odd this day. "I was expecting to carry you home tonight."
Athos narrowed his eyes at him. "I am sorry to disappoint you." He said before taking his leave.
"Strange." D'Artagnan mumbled as he turned away from the retreating Athos, only to find himself alone at the table. "Where…" He groaned when he spotted Porthos at another table, dealing out the cards. "So much for a relaxing night with my friends." He shook his head and pushed himself up from the table, groaning a little at his stiff muscles. He wasn't feeling the best anyway. An early night might just be what he needed. He started towards the garrison.
Porthos smiled, seeing that their plan had worked. An early night is a good start for the boy's recovery. He continued with his card game. Another game or two before he followed d'Artagnan back to the garrison wouldn't hurt. Besides, Athos and Aramis will keep an eye on him.
Aramis was in the tavern's cellar with Esther. A quick troust with the barmaid before a night of watching over his friend is in order. Besides, Athos and Porthos will keep an eye on him.
Athos took a walk around the town with a bottle in hand. One bottle was definitely not enough for Athos. One more before returning to the garrison. Aramis and Porthos will take care of d'Artagnan.
D'Artagnan rubbed his arms with his hands as he walked back to the garrison. It was a cold night. The cold air irritated his throat further causing his cough to worsen. He picked up his pace, hoping to arrive at the garrison soon, when a loud bang sounded from above. D'Artagnan looked up. "Really?" Rain started pouring down. He shook his head at his luck, running to get out of the rain as soon as he could. Just when he thought his night couldn't get any worse, the rain made quick work of dirt paths, turning it into slippery mud. His feet slipped out from under him. D'Artagnan's right arm came out to break the fall but the slippery ground made it impossible. He landed hard on the arm, feeling twist at an awkward angle. "Aaah…" Groaning, he turned onto his front and pushed himself up with his good arm. "This is ridiculous." He groaned to himself as he made his way, slowly, to the garrison.
Athos looked up at the sky and groaned. "This can't be good for d'Artagnan if he is making his way back from the Tavern now." He tossed between heading back to the tavern and going to the garrison. He decided the tavern may be the better option and he hoped he may bump into d'Artagnan on his way. He arrived without seeing any signs of d'Artagnan. Praying d'Artagnan hadn't left yet, he stepped into the entrance, only to bump into Aramis and Porthos on the way out. They looked at each other in shock and then groaned when they realised none of them was with d'Artagnan as per the unvoiced plan. Athos turned and stormed through the rain with his friends at his heels.
Musketeer's garrison…
D'Artagnan arrived back with no more incident, much to his relief, but his arm was throbbing now and his mind felt groggy. He made it up the stairs leading to his room when a voice called out to him. "D'Artagnan." He turned to find the captain on the landing outside his own room.
"Captain." D'Artagnan acknowledged, walking towards the man. "Did you need something?"
"I was going to ask you that question." Treville nodded at the arm d'Artagnan was holding to his body.
D'Artagnan looked down at it. "It's nothing. I…" He dipped his head in embarrassment. "slipped."
Treville nodded, amused. "You do that a lot." He tried to keep the laughter from his voice. "Where are the others?"
"They're enjoying their usual entertainment…I think. Athos should be back though."
Treville thought that to be strange. Athos tended to drink himself into a coma. He didn't say anything, however, because the boy looked to be in a quite a bit of pain and he didn't want to keep him. "Go take care of that arm."
"Yes, sir."
"And get out of those clothes before you catch the death of you."
"Yes, Captain." D'Artagnan walked quickly to his room, glad to be clear of Captain's eyes. He didn't tell him that he was already feeling under the weather.
D'Artagnan's room…
D'Artagnan lay in his bed, dry. He sighed in relief, though his arm was still throbbing. He hoped it would ease by the morning, knowing there was little he could do about on his own. His experience with injuries were nowhere near as verse as Aramis. Getting changed was a bit of a challenge with his injury, but he had managed with little difficulty. His wished his room had a fire place, pulling the covers up to his shoulders as a shiver ran up his body. Slowly, he fell into an uncomfortable slumber.
The musketeers arrived at the garrison and wasted no time in running up the stairs towards d'Artagnan's room. Their footsteps echoed the thunder. "What is going on?" The three men stopped in their tracks and turn to find the captain in his under shirt and braie, glaring at them. "Do you know what time it is? Most of us are trying to get some sleep."
"Apologies, Captain. We were…" Aramis frowned, not sure if he should be telling the captain of d'Artagnan's illness.
"Are you heading to d'Artagnan's room?"
"We…are…" Porthos was confused at how the captain knew. After all, all their rooms were in the same area.
"Good. You can check his arm. It seemed to pain him."
"His arm?" Athos groaned and turned to continue towards d'Artagnan's room. It's impossible to leave that boy alone without him getting into some sort of trouble!
"Again, apologies." Aramis and Porthos nodded before they followed quickly.
Athos knocked on d'Artagnan's door, but there was no answer. He was too impatient to try again so he just entered. He stopped when he saw the boy, seemingly, sleeping soundly. Sighing in relief he was going to turn and leave the room when Aramis walked past him. Aramis's keen eyes as well as knowledge in medicine allowed him to see more than his friends. He sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "d'Artagnan." D'Artagnan groaned but he didn't wake. Aramis sighed and felt his brow. He flinched at the heat there. "I'm going to get some herbs from my room. Porthos, can you get some water to tend to his fever."
Athos stopped Aramis before he walked past him. "How bad?"
"His fever is very high. We'll need to keep an eye on him until it releases its hold on our young friend." Athos nodded and let Aramis get what he needed to help d'Artagnan. He walked over and sat where Aramis was just before. He remembered what the captain had told them and pulled the quilt down to check the boy's arm. As gently as he could, picked up the right arm and pushed the sleeves up, grimacing at the swollen forearm. It's a bad sprain, if not broken.
"How do you get yourself in these messes?" d'Artagnan groaned as he tried to pull his arm back. Athos let it go and d'Artagnan immediately brought it back to his chest, protectively. He watched as the pain didn't allow the young man to sleep any longer. D'Artagnan's eyes fluttered open but they were glazed over with fever. "Hey." Athos brushed d'Artagnan's wet hair. "I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?"
"Hmmm…" D'Artagnan frowned at him. He managed to focus his fevered eyes on the man above him. "Athos?"
"It is I." Athos shook his head, smiling affectionately. "How are you feeling?" As if to answer to question, d'Artagnan fell into a coughing fit as his lungs complained of the congestion there. Athos helped him sit up to ease his cough. "That bad." When the coughing fit was over, d'Artagnan sagged in his mentor's arms.
Aramis returned to find Athos in the process lowering d'Artagnan back. "Wait." He put down his jars of herbs on the table and adjusted the pillows behind d'Artagnan so that he was propped up. "It will ease his breathing." He winced when he saw the swollen, purple arm. "How did that happen?"
"I can tell you it happen somewhere between the tavern and here." Athos sighed, "What happened to our plan to watch over him?" There was no blame in his voice, just guilt that he had failed the boy.
"It seems Esther was more than I could take." Aramis laughed at the sour look Athos through at him.
"Aramis, your nightly conquests are yours and yours alone. Do not feel the need to share…please." Athos turned back to the sick man in the bed who appeared to have fallen asleep again. "He looks ten times worse than he did when I left."
"It seems the rain accelerated the sickness." Aramis mixed the herbs he needed into a small bowl, then walked back over to d'Artagnan, moving Athos out of the way so that he could take a good look at the arm. He hissed as he picked up the swollen limb, putting pressure on different areas to determine if the bone was broken.
D'Artagnan gasped when the pain in his arm became more than a throb. He tried to pull away but that only served to cause the pain to shoot up and down his arm. He shot up from the bed, his left arm swinging at the person causing him pain. Aramis's right arm came up to block d'Artagnan's. "Easy, d'Artagnan. It's just me, Aramis." He let d'Artagnan's arm go for now to allow the boy to get his bearings. D'Artagnan pulled his arm to his chest and turned onto his side. "D'Artagnan, let me take care of your arm. It's not broken but it is badly twisted. Let me bandage it and put it in a sling." He smiled when d'Artagnan turned back to him, warily.
"I think I'm sick." He told them, pitifully.
"My friend, that would a correct diagnosis." Aramis laughed. He grabbed the bandages he had brought with him and proceeded with stabilising the arm and placing it in the sling. "How does that feel?" He asked after he finished.
D'Artagnan opened his eyes and looked down at his arm. "Better. Thank…" His words was swallowed up by another coughing fit. Aramis didn't like the sound of the rattling in his lungs.
"We need to clear his lungs before he gets lung sickness." Aramis walked over to his herbs and cursing at himself for not getting hot water. "And where is Porthos?"
"Did anyone tell you what a sourpuss you are when one of us are sick?" Porthos walked with a pot of boiling water and a tub of cold water. "I figured you would need a pot of boiling water as well."
Aramis was impressed at Porthos's forward thinking, "You have actually learned something from watching me." Porthos just rolled his eyes as he put the pot of hot water on the table and the tub of water on the bedside table.
Athos took Aramis's spot holding a cold, wet towel. He wiped at d'Artagnan's brow, cheeks and neck. D'Artagnan sighed at the relief it brought. "Sorry to be a bother."
"No bother." Athos told him. "Though I wish you would've spoken up earlier to avoid all this."
"I was okay, until it started raining."
Athos winced, "Sorry about that."
D'Artagnan furrowed his brow in confusion. "Didn't know you could make it rain."
Athos chuckled, "I mean, leaving you to come back on your own. We knew you were sick." He didn't go into explaining how they were trying to manipulate him into having an early night. D'Artagnan's mind was too foggy to digest the information.
"Yes, we are truly sorry." Aramis came over with a cup of tea. "This will help clear your lungs and rid your fever." Athos put the towel down and took the cup. He lifted d'Artagnan's head and held the cup to his lips. D'Artagnan took a couple of sips before pulling it away. "All of it." Athos looked up at him, not wanting to force d'Artagnan to drink. "He'll need it all for the herbs to take effect." Athos nodded and guided d'Artagnan to the cup again, but D'Artagnan was having none of it.
Slowly, but surely, the cup was emptied. He put the cup down and continued with tending to the fever. Porthos and Aramis grabbed a couple of chairs and sat on the other side of the bed. They would take turns in taking care of their friend.
Half an hour later, d'Artagnan was sweating profusely, tossing in the bed as his temperature rose. "Aramis, he's getting worse." Athos wiped at d'Artagnan's flushed skin.
"It's the herbs. The perspiration is a good sign." Aramis leaned forward to feel d'Artagnan's temperature. He frowned, "Hopefully, the fever will break soon." He got up to listen to d'Artagnan's lungs. "His lungs seem to be clearing. A few more doses of the tea and a day's rest should be all he will need to recover."
Porthos sighed in relief. "Good. That boy has cost me years off my life."
"Well, get used to it. I don't think he'll be slowing down any time soon." Athos frowned at the trembling that started to wrack d'Artagnan's body. "Aramis, what's happening?"
Aramis slowly shook his head, "He's chilled to the bones. Go get some more quilts. We need to keep him warm."
"And his fever?" Athos asked as he pulled out a couple of extra quilts from d'Artagnan's closet.
"We'll keep tending to it." Aramis answered as he picked up a towel and wiped at the boy's brow.
"I'll get a fresh tub of water." Aramis nodded his thanks to Porthos.
Aramis helped Athos cover d'Artagnan with the extra quilts. He then walked over to the table of herbs and prepared another cup of tea, pitching the bridge of his nose. "He can't even get sick without giving it his all."
"He's not d'Artagnan if he doesn't." Athos groaned.
As if to emphasis their point d'Artagnan was awakened by another coughing fit. Athos, once again, leaned him forward in his arms to ease it. "I will feel much better if you could beat this cold sooner rather than later, d'Artagnan."
D'Artagnan groaned against him when the fit finally stopped. "I'll…try…" Athos chuckled at the answer. D'Artagnan would always try to fill whatever was requested of him.
"Here, this will help." Aramis sat on the bed to help d'Artagnan drink another cup of yarrow and elderflower tea.
"It's so cold in here." D'Artagnan complained after he finished the tea and Athos lowered him back on the pillows. He struggled to pull the blankets up with only one good arm. Athos pulled the quilts up to his chin.
"How's that?"
"Hmmm…"d'Artagnan's words were incoherent but the shivers seem to have calmed.
"Here's the water." Porthos placed it on d'Artagnan's bedside. "He's looking more comfortable."
"Yes, let us hope it lasts." Aramis rubbed his tired eyes. "I'll prepare more tea. We'll need to wake him every two hours to drink it."
"Go get some rest. I'll watch him." Athos told his two friends.
"Sure." Aramis took his seat on the other side of the bed and propped his feet up on the bed, closing his eyes. Porthos did the same. Athos chuckled and shook his head. They have slept in worse positions. None of them could tell you exactly when d'Artagnan came to mean so much to the three men sitting around him, they just knew that they would do everything in their power to protect the boy.
It was a long night for the three men. They each took their turn in tending to the fever, easing the cough and giving the tea and when morning came they were exhausted, but it was worth it because just an hour ago, Aramis announced the fever had broken and his lungs were clearing. However, they stayed in the room, each not willing to let the boy out of their sights yet.
D'Artagnan groaned as the sun peered through the curtains, rudely waking him from his peaceful slumber. He pulled the quilt over his head and turned to try to return to his previous state but he was already awaken. A little annoyed, he popped his head out of the quilts and looked around. It was a surprise to find his three friends asleep around his bed. He couldn't remember much of last night, aside from the embarrassing slip in the streets and the pouring rain. The rest of the night was groggy. He was about to reach over to wake Athos when he realised he couldn't move his right arm. "How?" He was confused to say the least. D'Artagnan remembered twisting his arm but he had no recollection of how it ended up bandaged, but it did not take a genius considering his company at the moment. It gave him a feeling of warmth to know his friends stayed to take care of him last night.
It was Aramis who woke first to find d'Artagnan awake and aware. "Good morning." D'Artagnan whispered to him, not wanting to wake the other two.
Aramis stood and stretched out the kinks in his body. "Good morning." He replied as he sat down and placed a hand against d'Artagnan's brow. "You're much cooler. How are you feeling?"
"Better than last night," He grimaced at the small ache in his chest. "Though my chest is a little sore."
"Considering you almost coughed out a lung last night, I'm surprised it's only a little sore." Aramis jested. "How is your arm?"
D'Artagnan wriggled his fingers, "It's not too bad."
"How did that happen?" Aramis asked, narrowing his eyes at the boy's embarrassed look.
"I slipped." D'Artagnan answered very quietly. He looked up when no witty reply came about and found that Aramis was biting his lip from trying to not laugh. In fact he noticed that Athos's shoulders were shaking and Porthos had a smile on his face, despite supposedly sleeping. "Thanks." D'Artagnan groaned and sunk into the bed as he tried to hide from the embarrassment.
Athos sat forward and pulled the quilt off his friend after wiping the smiling from his face. "I'm sorry. The answer was unexpected. We don't mean to laugh at your expense."
D'Artagnan glared at them, then defeated said, "Just laugh. If it happened to either of you, I'd probably be laughing as well."
"That's quite a lot of damage for a slip." Porthos pointed out. "How are we going to keep you out of trouble?"
d'Artagnan just shrugged, already feeling tired after the small conversation. He coughed and grimaced at the ache it caused. "I should get ready for the day." He tried to push the quilts off him but he was too weak to even do that.
"If you think either of us or Treville will allow you on patrol today, your brain must be addled by the fever last night." Aramis shook his head. "You were burning with fever and incoherent. Your lungs were congested and it has yet to completely clear. You will stay in this bed until I deem you fit enough for duty and even then it will be very light duty."
D'Artagnan groaned, "The sickness doesn't kill me so you're trying to do it by boring me to death?"
"D'Artagnan, for once just do as you are told." Athos pleaded, "You gave us quite the scare last night." He knew the effect those words would have on their friend. D'Artagnan hated having to worry them.
"Fine. I'll stay in bed today."
"Excellent!" Aramis clapped his hands together and rose from the bed. "I will ask the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for all of us."
Athos reached over and gave d'Artagnan a pat on the arm. "Rest." D'Artagnan smiled and closed his eyes. When he was certain d'Artagnan was unaware, he gestured for Porthos to follow him out of the room. Aramis was waiting outside for them, knowing they needed to clear something up.
Athos closed the door to d'Artagnan's room. "Okay. I don't know what happened last night and I don't need to know. I just want to make it clear than when d'Artagnan is ill or injured he is never, never to be left to his own devices." The men looked at each other and silently made their pact.
For the rest of the day, d'Artagnan was always accompanied by one of his three friends. Treville managed to work the roster around this. Just like Athos, Porthos and Aramis, the captain has also come to be a little protective of the young man. Something about d'Artagnan caused the people around him to want to keep him safe. Even though d'Artagnan has seen the ugliness in the world, he has not let it darken his heart. He has not grown numb to it and it is this the men seek to protect. A light amongst all the darkness in their world.
The END!