Authors note: This is an expansion of two of my Whumptober one-shots. The two were linked together - 'Hypothermia' and 'Drowning'. They are all in it, Athos and d'Artagnan get the brunt of the whumpage. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter One

Stumbling backwards had not been the plan, Athos inexplicably thought as he fell. Stumbling backwards into a cold river was very much not part of the plan. And yet that was exactly what he had done.

A scream of his name from one of his brothers as he fell the last thing he knew before he hit the water. Disorientated, he spent those first few seconds desperately trying not to gasp as the cold water soaked him. He could not gasp. If he gasped, he would die. He would drown.

Athos created a mantra; 'do not breath'. He was underwater, he had to break the surface, then he could gasp in shock, but not before. The breath, when he allowed it, was deep. The water reclaimed him for a few more seconds before he could keep his head up.

The river was wide, and deep, and fast flowing. Somehow, he managed to miss the rocks, the water swirling him passed, out of reach. He might have hit one and been badly injured or he might have hit one and been able to grab onto it, stopping his unwelcome journey.

There was no chance of swimming. His clothes were too restrictive. If he could have done, he would have shed his weapons belt to prevent it from dragging him down again.

Buffeted around he tried to look for his brothers. The fight had been all but over, surely one or more of them would be chasing after him. Aramis knew the area, he would know of places where he could be pulled out.

Athos chuckled, actually chuckled, he knew, that he would be saved, there was no chance they would let him die. Not like this. He was destined to die on the battlefield as any good soldier should.

If not the battlefield, he would die old and grey. He would not die after a group of bandits had decided that Musketeers were worth robbing.

It was cold as he was twisted around on the currents. His fingers were already stiff, he could not open and close his hands. Odd that he should worry about such things when his whole life was in danger.

There was no sign of the others. His brothers had not been able to keep up with him. Was there to be no rescue?

His hurtled movement through the water slowed slightly. Did his foot drag on the bottom of the river? Again, his foot hit the bottom, he tried to dig his heels in but could not; the water still too fast. But the river bed seemed to be coming up to meet him. The river was getting shallower.

He managed to twist over, he had not really thought about the position he was in, he had been floating along on his back. Now that he had turned over, he realised the river was not quite the torrent it had been.

But he could do nothing to help himself. Turning had worn him out, he was too cold, he could not even attempt to swim. In the now shallow water, he could probably stand. Probably. But he would not find out, he was too weak. He would continue to float along, unable to stop himself. He would drown. He was going to die, not on the battlefield or old and grey. He was going to die, cold and exhausted after a pointless affray with a group of bandits.

Athos sent up a silent apology to his brothers for failing to keep himself alive for them.

MMMM

Seeing Athos stumble and fall from the bridge spurred d'Artagnan on. He knew his brother would not have been hurt in the fall, but the river was fast flowing and deep, Athos would not easily be able to get himself out.

The man in front of him faltered, distracted by Aramis' cry as Athos had fallen. D'Artagnan took advantage of the distraction to decisively thrust his sword into the man's gut. With no further thought for the man, d'Artagnan pulled his gun from his belt. The bandit responsible for Athos' fall was stood at the edge of the bridge looking in the direction of the fallen Musketeer. The shabby man had been lucky to manipulate the swordsman to the side of the bridge and over the edge.

The look on Athos' face as he had fallen told d'Artagnan that he was just as shocked at the luck the man had enjoyed.

The man did not get to enjoy his luck for long. D'Artagnan fired his gun, hitting the man in the back. The scruffy man collapsed to the floor.

D'Artagnan rushed forward to look at the river. Athos had only fallen a few seconds before but was already being washed away. The Musketeer was trying to reach the bank but stood no chance. On a warmer day, and without his heavy weapons and doublet, Athos might have made it to the bank, but it was clear to d'Artagnan that he would exhaust himself quickly.

Glancing around he saw that Porthos was rushing over. Aramis had taken a few steps after two of the bandits who were making a hasty retreat.

'Where is he?' said Porthos, who was still breathing hard after the fight.

'There,' replied d'Artagnan as he pointed forward.

Aramis rushed passed them both, grabbing Porthos by the sleeve as he went.

'Further down, it gets shallow, we need to get ahead of him…'

The two static Musketeers glanced at each other before taking after Aramis who had jumped off the bridge and was already running along the side of the river.

They had to pick their way along the river bank avoiding large rocks and scrambling up the bank on occasion where the river had pushed its way outwards slightly. Porthos was soon ahead of d'Artagnan and Aramis. D'Artagnan watched him looking to the river frequently, trying to spot their fallen brother. They had spotted Athos a couple of times and had called out to him but were not convinced he had heard them.

Porthos had managed to get slightly ahead of Athos. D'Artagnan could see him checking along the bank of the river for somewhere to attempt a rescue.

'No. Porthos. Further on.'

Aramis' shout caused Porthos to glance back. He looked a little annoyed at being directed by Aramis but did continue to run along the bank. They had to accept that Aramis knew the area and they did not. They had to trust that Aramis knew where they could get Athos out of the fast-moving river.

The river meandered away from them. Porthos was about to follow its bank but Aramis shouted again.

'Straight on. Through those trees…'

Aramis paused to take a couple of breaths.

'We can...get ahead.'

Porthos quickly changed his direction and ran beside d'Artagnan with Aramis a few steps behind. D'Artagnan hated leaving the riverside. Not being able to get even a chance of spotting Athos was torturous.

MMMM

Porthos did not like the idea of leaving Athos. The detour led them several yards away from the river through a stand of trees. But he accepted that Aramis was correct, even if he did not want to leave the water's edge.

D'Artagnan was breathing hard as he ran beside him. He could hear Aramis just behind them. Porthos concentrated all his effort on running as fast as he could.

Watching Athos being swept away. Seeing his brother disappear from sight was horrific. One minute they had been soundly beating a group of bandits who thought it was a good idea to try robbing Musketeers, the next they were watching Athos fighting for survival.

When he had come within a few yards of the riverbank Porthos had been sure he could have grabbed Athos. But Aramis had dissuaded him. He hoped it was the correct choice.

As the trees began to thin out, he could see the river bending back towards them. Aramis had been right. There was now a good chance that they were ahead of Athos and in a good position to rescue him. Although Porthos wondered what state Athos would be in.

MMMM

As he ran, he managed to pick the least sensible option for scrambling back up the bank of the river and ended up behind both Porthos and d'Artagnan. Aramis had to watch his brothers as much as his own footing. He knew Porthos would want to try to grab Athos before the spot on the river that would be easiest for the rescue.

'No. Porthos. Further on,' he shouted.

Reluctantly Porthos did as he was told. They would have lost valuable seconds if Porthos and d'Artagnan had stopped. The water was too fast flowing where they were. The area Aramis had in mind widened out causing the river to become shallower and slower moving. And Aramis knew they could take a shortcut as the river wound around the landscape. They could get ahead of Athos and be ready when he was swept toward them.

Again, Porthos was going to follow the river and not the route he needed them to take. Cursing himself for ending up at the back of the group Aramis managed to shout out again.

'Straight on. Through those trees…' the fatigue forced him to take a breath before continuing. 'We can...get ahead.'

Porthos and d'Artagnan were only a few yards ahead of him but were so focused on their task that neither man noticed when Aramis tripped over an exposed tree route. He could not prevent the fall, landing hard over another root. The air knocked out of him all Aramis could do for a few seconds was screw his eyes shut and try to take a breath.

He was glad they had not noticed, it meant they would concentrate on Athos. They could not afford to lose any time getting ahead of their brother.

Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees Aramis managed to open his eyes and with blurry vision watch as the two Musketeers disappeared from view. They were heading in the right direction. The shallow section of the river was just beyond the tree line, they would not be able to miss it.

After another few seconds, Aramis managed to push himself up to stand, putting out a hand to steady himself against the offending tree. He pressed his other hand against his chest, relieved to not feel any of the tell-tale pain of a cracked or broken rib. He suspected he would suffer for the fall later on, but at that moment Athos was his main concern. He could enjoy the pain of the bruising after they had rescued Athos and dealt with any injuries he had.

Managing to take a full breath without too much difficulty he started off after his brothers.

MMMM

Porthos broke free of the trees. The river was to his left, the shallow area opening up in front of him. He looked back along the river, relieved to see Athos floating towards them. He had managed to twist over to face forward and attempt to swim, the effort made useless due to the fatigue he was no doubt suffering.

The river had slowed as it spread out but was still deep. There was still a danger that their brother would just be taken straight past them. Athos could not help himself. Porthos did not think twice he ran along the bank a few yards before striking out a few yards into the water as Athos reached the same point.

'I got you,' panted Porthos as he dragged the exhausted man from the river.

Athos clearly could not respond, Porthos could tell he was still conscious but did not think he would remain so for long.

D'Artagnan skidded to a halt next to him, grabbed Athos' other arm and assisted pulling the Musketeer further up the bank away from the water.

'Lucky Aramis knew the river got shallower here,' said d'Artagnan. 'It would have been hard work trying to get him out of the deeper sections.'

'I could have got him out sooner,' replied Porthos.

'And get pulled in yourself,' said Aramis as he caught up with them.

'What kept you?' asked Porthos.

'Fell over...it happens...I'm not perfect, you can tease me later,' replied Aramis without looking up from Athos.

The bedraggled Musketeer lying between them had passed out. But he was shivering. Aramis started to undo Athos doublet. D'Artagnan helped the medic to push their brother up to sit as they divested him of the jacket. Porthos pulled off Athos' boots and leather breeches.

'We need to get him warm,' said Aramis, 'take off your doublet.'

Porthos and d'Artagnan did as they were told without question. Aramis was their field medic and knew what he was doing, although getting Athos warmed up was common sense. They lay the doublet's over the unconscious man.

'You two are going to have to get friendly with him,' said Aramis.

'What?' said both Porthos and d'Artagnan at the same time.

'Warm him up, with your own body heat...embrace him, keep him close to you.'

Porthos glanced at d'Artagnan before looking back at Athos.

'He won't like that.'

'He's unconscious,' pointed out Aramis.

'Why are we doing it?' asked d'Artagnan as he shuffled closer to Athos.

Porthos looked at Aramis but did not repeat the question.

'Do either of you know the area?'

Both men shook their heads.

'Well, I do. I know there is a village about two miles in that direction. The tavern keeper there owes me a favour. I'm going to get help.'

Aramis stood up and, after pulling his weapons belts off, started to undo his own doublet before shrugging out of it and handing it to d'Artagnan.

'Seriously, body warmth. It's the best we can do at the moment,' said Aramis when Porthos still did not get closer to Athos.

Porthos had no problem with helping his brother, Porthos was worried about what would happen if Athos woke up and found both himself and d'Artagnan at such close quarters. Athos was not a particularly tactile man at the best of times. But Aramis had a point. Of the three of them, only he knew the area.

'I'll be as quick as I can,' said Aramis, 'I'll try to be back before he wakes up and kills you both.'

Aramis took off in the direction he had said the village was in without waiting for his brothers to reply.

'I hate him sometimes,' said d'Artagnan.

'Somehow, we get stuck with the...awkward jobs all the time,' remarked Porthos as he finally moved to sit closer to Athos, slipping his arm around the man's shoulders.

'Hopefully,' continued Porthos, looking at their unconscious brother, 'he'll never need to know.'

MMMM

Aramis did not wait for a reply from his brothers, he scrambled up and ran. He had barely recovered his breath from the last run. But getting Athos warmed up was their priority. The man was unconscious with no hope of warmth other than what his brothers could offer him. They could not set a fire, the area had suffered several days of rains meaning everything was too damp and they had left their gear with the horses back at the bridge where the fight had happened.

The village was only two miles away. He could get there in a matter of minutes. Although, thought Aramis, it might take him a little longer, he was definitely running slower than he had been. His bruised chest and breathlessness slowing him down.

Aramis could only hope that he could get help at the village. It had been two years before that he had helped the tavern keeper out. Aramis had been staying at the inn when three travellers started to cause problems for the keeper's daughter. Joubert, the keeper, had tried to get the men to leave but been pushed back. Aramis, who had been sat in the corner of the tavern talking to Joubert's wife had interceded. The men had tried to fight back but were too drunk to deal with a Musketeer. Other than a black eye Aramis had been left unscathed by the fight. Joubert and his wife had been very thankful to Aramis, promising to let him stay for free if ever he was passing the village again.

The fatigue, brought on by the fight and almost constant activity since, was really starting to affect Aramis. He knew he was slowing down. But he had to get help. He also knew he had to still be able to communicate when he reached the village, if he ran himself to the point of collapse, he might not be able to tell Joubert where his brothers were. Aramis forced himself to slow down a little.

He was relieved when the trees thinned, and the village came into view.

MMMM

D'Artagnan adjusted the doublet over Athos, pulling it tighter around the shivering man. Porthos had finally settled next to them. It felt odd to be in such close proximity to each other. There had been times when they were forced to keep hold of one another when the other was injured, perhaps getting stitches, but to just sit there holding Athos seemed wrong.

Porthos had managed to twist himself a little to throw his leg over Athos'. The Musketeer had taken to his task with aplomb when he finally accepted that it was for the best. Aramis was correct, the only way they could start the process of warming their unconscious brother up was with the heat from their own bodies.

'I hope 'e don't wake up,' said Porthos again.

'It is odd,' agreed d'Artagnan as he slipped his arm back across Athos' chest.

The shivering had not stopped. Athos had stirred a couple of times but not fully come around. It was highly likely he would be combative when he did wake. He would probably be weak but still try to fight them.

'Have you had to do this before?' asked d'Artagnan glancing across at Porthos who was looking at the river.

'Not me, Aramis has. There was a young lad, he never got his commission, Claude, I think his name was. Aramis and he were caught by some thugs and beaten. It was December and very cold. Aramis was injured and couldn't get help so ended up just holding onto Claude for the rest of the night…'

Porthos trailed off.

'Did he survive?'

Porthos shook his head, 'when we found them, they were both very cold. Claude only lasted a few more hours. His injuries were not survivable. I think it was his warmth that kept Aramis alive instead.'

D'Artagnan could see the haunted look on Porthos' face from remembering the unpleasant incident.

'Is that why you were reluctant?'

Porthos nodded, 'sorry, it just reminded me of then.'

'I guess you have a lot of unpleasant memories…'

Porthos nodded, 'and I'm still worried what he's going to be like when he properly wakes up.'

D'Artagnan smiled, 'he can be explosive.'

Porthos chuckled, 'you're thinking about that time you woke him for his watch and he almost took your head off?'

D'Artagnan nodded, pleased to see his friend smiling again. The incident he was referring to had left Porthos and Aramis creased up laughing for quite a while. Athos, who had been deeply asleep had swung his dagger at d'Artagnan, narrowly missing slicing his throat. They had told him afterwards it was never a good idea to be close to the swordsman when waking him up.

Athos had apologised to d'Artagnan, before giving both of the others a dressing down for letting him sleep in.

The shivering man between them stirred again. He pushed slightly at d'Artagnan who glanced at Porthos who had a slightly concerned look in his eyes.

'It's been a pleasure knowing you,' he said with mock sincerity, as Athos opened his eyes.

Athos was unfocused and pushing weakly at them both.

MMMM