Porthos sighed as he stuck his head out from under his warm blankets- as soon as the cold air and bright light of the morning hit his face he groaned loudly and immediately ducked his head back into the warmth, sniffling.

He rubbed stinging, puffy eyes under the blanket and sniffed wetly, groaning again as his head began to pulse. Why did he have to get ill today?

'Come on, you can do it...' he reasoned with himself in the darkness of his blanket. 'Just a few hours practise and then you can come back home...'

'Why are you talking to yourself?' A familiar voice piped up from somewhere in front of him. 'And why are you tucked up in bed like some sort of mole?'

'Biss off, Arabis...' he reported, cursing his stuffed up nose as the words came out more like grunts than actual words.

He heard his friend chuckle loudly and a warm hand was placed on the top of his head through the blanket. 'Has someone got a cold?' He asked, voice light.

'Nah, I just enjoy plugging my bose when I beak,' Porthos replied, snuffling. 'It's great fun!'

'Ah, thought so!' Aramis chuckled as he stepped backwards and looked around. 'Are you cold?'

'Freezing.'

'I'll get this fire started then.'

'We've got bractise thib morning though...' Porthos protested, before he finally heaved himself up into a sitting position and turned, bleary eyed, towards his friend.

Aramis chuckled again as he took in his pallid complexion, red eyes and sore nose. He stood, hands on hips, as Porthos shivered violently and drew the blanket in closer around himself. 'Yes, because you truly look to be in fighting form!' He nodded, crossing his arms and giving his friend a smile. 'I've seen animals on a butchers slab that look healthier than you,'

'Thanks very buch!' Porthos muttered, before wiping a trail of snot down his night shirt's arm as he wiped his nose.

'Here, my friend...' Aramis said with an air of distaste, placing a white handkerchief into his hand.

'Cheers,' Porthos replied, blowing his nose noisily. 'How'd you get in anyway?' He asked as Aramis resumed his lighting of the small fire in the room. 'I'm sure I locked the door.'

'You always keep a key under the doormat...'

'I never told you that,'

'My friend, with the amount of locked doors I can get through on my nighttime wanderings I am surprised no one has accused me of witchcraft!'

Porthos snorted and them immediately wished he hadn't as pain jarred his head. He closed his eyes briefly and sniffed wetly again. He heard the noise of matches being shuffled and drawn, and soon the room was enveloped in the sound of crackling logs.

'Buch better...' he moaned as he closed his eyes again as welcome heat hit his face. He felt a depression in the bed and opened his eyes to see Aramis siting beside him, staring at him intently with serious eyes.

'What?'

'You have a fever,'

'And?'

'And you need to rest, not going out to practise.'

'But the parade is in a week and Treville w-'

'Will understand if you take a day to rest. We don't want that fever getting any worse!' Aramis said, giving his friend a pointed look. 'You'll do yourself a mischief if you go out and that cold makes you keel over!'

'One day won't make too much of a difference, will it?'

'Of course not!' Aramis smiled, shaking his head, 'you do worry so!'

Porthos groaned again and rested his head on the wall next to his bed as he shivered again. 'To be honest,I do feel a bit ill.'

'You do look a bit ill!' Aramis chuckled, putting the back of his hand on Porthos' forehead. Porthos almost leant into the cool touch but managed to stop himself as Aramis breathed in deeply.

'You're really very quite hot,'

'That's very nice of you to say so, but I do feel quite ill...' Porthos chuckled wetly, before he coughed loudly into his fist.

'I mean temperature wise!' Aramis laughed, quirking an eyebrow with a chuckle. 'I think I may call the matron to come and take a look at you.' He said seriously, eyebrows creased in concern.

'I'm fine, honest!' Porthos complained, sniffing again. He could feel his face radiating heat, yet his hands and feet were stone cold, and he shivered again as Aramis rolled his eyes.

'I cannot force you, but I do think she should come and see you,' he warned, hand on his hip.

'I'll be fine...'

'Alright, I won't call her then.' Aramis said, snorting. 'Stubborn mule.'

'Oi, I heard that!'

'You were supposed to!' He quipped back. 'Can I get you anything after practise? Water, cordial?'

'Another blanket?'

'Consider it done, mon ami,' Aramis bowed with a smile. 'I'll be a few hours if you can wait that long?'

'I'll be alright, Mis.'

'Good- I'll throw another log on the fire before I go.'

'Thank you.'

'My pleasure Porthos!' Aramis chuckled as he put another log onto the fire. He turned back to his friend, concern spearing his chest as he saw him groan and lay awkwardly back down in his bed. He looked round and spotted his musketeer cloak- crossing the room he grabbed it before placing it on his friend as he snuffled again.

'I'll see if they can cut practise short so I can bring that other blanket to you, alright?' He muttered- he could only see a strip of pale forehead above the blanket, beaded with sweat.

'What would I do without you?' Came his muffled reply.

'Quite a lot, I'd imagine!' He replied with a grin. He stood up and sniffed, before wiping his nose as it itched. 'You better not have given it to me!' He warned.

'...borry...' Porthos replied.

'I'll give you borry!' He muttered with a smile as he walked to the door. 'See you later- get some sleep!'

'I will. Banks again.'

'You're welcome my friend. Pleasant dreams...' Aramis replied, before sniffling as he closed the door with a snap.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little tale- I have been cursed with a cold, so I thought it was only fair to make one of the poor guys suffer too! :D

Please review!