Authors note: this is for pallydeeks, who likes a bit of d'Artagnan whump, and introduced me to a fabulous new swearword. (But I still had to whump Aramis a bit).

Flinch

Chapter One

They had definitely had too much to drink. Which was not a good idea. They were both on guard duty at the Palace in the morning. But one drink had led to another, and to another. Aramis knew that they would probably be admonished by Athos. D'Artagnan was not good at hiding a hangover, he would probably be throwing up at morning muster.

They stumbled out of the tavern, Aramis was practically holding his young friend up. It was dark and raining. Aramis decided that his rooms were closer, he would get them both back there and, with luck and a few hours' sleep they could present themselves in the morning in a reasonable state. Until d'Artagnan gave the game away by falling asleep or something. Aramis was not sure what d'Artagnan would do, but it would be him that got them in trouble for drinking too much.

As they made their way along the road Aramis was aware of d'Artagnan pulling them over to the side. The young man threw up, quite spectacularly thought Aramis as he steadied his friend. Then Aramis found he needed to follow suit. Once they had both divested themselves of some of the copious amounts of alcohol in their systems they were both able to stand a little straighter. Although Aramis did think that d'Artagnan looked a little blurry, but that might have been his issue and not his friends.

They resumed their chaotic walk, the rain grew heavier. Aramis found it refreshing, and sobering as it was cold. He quickened his pace slightly dragging d'Artagnan with him. The young man was walking on his own now, but they were still holding onto each other for support.

They rounded a corner into a quieter road, only one street away from Aramis' rooms and an escape from the now pouring rain.

Aramis found himself, quite unexpectedly, on the ground. He did not know how that had happened. He tried to push himself up but a sudden explosion of pain in his head prevented him.

MMMM

When he sobered up, he was going to punch Aramis. The man was a very bad influence on him. One more drink, he had said. Then another and another. He felt awful. As they made their way along the road after they had both thrown up he was glad of the rain. Although it was cold it was helping to wake him up a bit. He did not need to hang onto Aramis' arm quite so tightly to keep up right now. He knew they were heading towards Aramis' rooms. He decided as punishment for making him drink too much, because it was entirely Aramis' fault, he was getting the bed. Aramis could sleep on the floor.

They rounded the corner of the next road. He was aware of someone walking up to him quickly, he tried to turn to them, but was thrown off balance when Aramis stumbled to the floor. The stranger grabbed him and twisted him round, pushing him into a wall. He was aware of Aramis trying to get up, a second man was standing over him, he kicked Aramis viciously in the head. The marksman crashed back down and did not move again.

The shock of the assault on his friend sobered D'Artagnan considerably, he started to struggle against the man holding him. The second man came over and helped the first to pin him to the wall. A rag was stuffed into his mouth and his arms pulled back. They bound his wrists behind him. He continued to struggle and tried to shout out. The man holding him pushed him hard against the wall using his body weight to keep him there, making it difficult to breath.

'We only need one man,' said the man holding him quietly in his ear, 'if you keep struggling I will let my friend kill your friend…is that what you want?'

D'Artagnan looked around at the still form of Aramis lying on the ground. Bruises were already forming on the side of his face where he had been kicked. The second man who had attacked them walked back over, he knelt beside Aramis, grabbed him by the hair, and pulled his head back. D'Artagnan struggled again when the man pulled out a knife and held it to the unconscious musketeer's throat.

'Do you want us to kill him?' asked the man holding d'Artagnan again.

The second man was pressing the knife into the flesh of Aramis' throat, a thin trickle of blood snaked down the pale flesh. D'Artagnan quickly shook his head. The second man looked a little disappointed. He let go of Aramis, his head hitting the ground with a smack. As the first man continued to hold d'Artagnan firmly against the wall the second man pulled Aramis' arms behind him and bound them tightly, pulling the injured man's shoulders backwards in the process. Aramis' legs were also bound at the ankles and the knees. He was gagged firmly. The man dragged the unconscious and bound marksman to the side of the road and deposited him, with no regard for his injuries behind a couple of crates.

D'Artagnan realised his friend might not be found for hours or even days, he struggled again and tried to speak through the gag. But the man holding him just pushed him harder into the wall. Once the other man had finished concealing Aramis he crossed back to him and the first man.

'You are going to walk, sensibly, with us,' said the first man, 'or my friend is going to come back and slit his throat…and that might not be all he does to your friend before he is killed…do you understand.'

D'Artagnan nodded. They pulled him off the wall and began to walk him along the road, keeping to the shadows. He did not know where they were going, or if he would get an opportunity to escape and get back to Aramis before their attackers did.

MMMM