The afternoon sun was high in the sky, beating down an intense summer heat onto the four men moving slowly through the meadow. The grass was high and the flowers sweet-smelling as the Musketeers led their horses through the middle of the vast area of grass, looking for a stream to cool their horses and themselves.

They were travelling back from a four day excursion to deliver a ream of papers and documents to an important Comte that the King had been dealing with; the mission had been a long one, with many hours riding and pitching up little forest-camps when no taverns or inns were available.

Now they were gratefully heading back to their own beds, but likewise the trip back had been arduous, and now they were free of duties and in the somewhat private meadow, one man in particular was starting to get bored. Very bored.

Athos, who like the others was walking with his reigns in his hands, sniffled and then sighed as a waft of white flowers floated past his nose. 'Aramis, how many times do I have to tell you?' he muttered, turning to his fellow Musketeer, who was walking beside him, grinning, and holding the green stalk of a dandelion in his hand.

'What?' The medic asked, dropping the stalk and feigning ignorance.

'You know what...' Athos replied, rolling his eyes. 'They make my eyes sting.'

'Sorry, my friend...' Aramis smiled, before looking across to Porthos and winking at it- he stooped down and picked another white-headed dandelion, before quietly coming up behind D'artagnan.

The lad was busy undoing the top buttons of his shirt to let in some much welcome breeze. Grinning, Aramis held the plant up next his mouth, took a deep breath, at the same time patting the Gascon on the shoulder- as soon as D'artagnan looked round, eyes quizzical, the Medic blew on the flowers, sending them cascading into the younger man's face, catching in his eyebrows and hair as they floated down.

D'artagnan spluttered as the white flowers hit his face, wiping his cheeks to get them out of his nose- with an indignant yelp he pushed a laughing Aramis in the chest, sending him stepping back a few paces.

'Not funny!' he growled, shaking his head so his hair moved and the remnants of the flowers floated to the ground.

'Yes it was!' Aramis chuckled, before he put his hands up as Athos shot him a look. 'Alright, sorry...I'll just walk along with a face as long as yours, happy?' he shot back, but resisting the urge to stick his tongue out. Well, when Athos was watching, of course.

Porthos snorted as he watched Aramis fall back in step beside him. 'You boring lot...' he muttered, shaking his head with a small smile. 'Since when did you all lose your sense of fun?'

'The sooner we get back to Paris and find a tavern, then we can have fun...' Athos replied.

'What if I don't want to drink to have fun?' Aramis shot back.

Athos sighed, rolling his eyes again. 'Look- we're all hot and tired. The last thing we need is to have an argument about such childish things.'

Aramis sighed, crossing his arms as he stepped over a fallen log. 'Spoilsport.'

'Aramis-'

'Alright, alright, I'll be quiet. Happy now, Dad?' Aramis growled, chuckling as Athos gave him another look.

The four moved into a companionable silence, and they spent the next half an hour making their way through the long grass, before they reached a small winding brook- grateful for the coolness, the four men led their horses over to drink, and decided to spend a while in the shade of an oak tree, eating the last of their rations they had in their packs.

Aramis spent his time juggling apples, expertly tossing them from hand to hand in an increasingly difficult set of challenges shouted out to him by Porthos and D'artagnan.

It all ended as Aramis tried to juggle five of them on one leg, with Athos' stolen scarf over his eyes...he tripped on Porthos' leg as he tried to keep his balance, sending him stumbling forwards, dropping the apples on the ground and almost falling head-first into the tree they were sitting under.

'I think that's enough of that...' Athos muttered from his half-raised position as he held onto the back of Aramis' shirt, stopping him from headbutting the tree. He pulled the shirt, sending his friend around and down into a sitting position once more.

'Oh...' Aramis sighed, shaking his head with a smile. 'I was just getting started!'

Athos shook his head at him, a smile appearing on his lips for a moment. 'Why can't you just act your age?'

'Because its not very fun.'

Athos chuckled at that, before sitting back. 'Pass me that skin of wine, will you?' he asked. 'We'll sit for a few more moments and then start making a move back to Paris.'

Again the foursome sat in a silence that did not need to be filled. After a few more moments D'artagnan, who was lying on his back and chewing on a blade of grass, sat up, eyes alight with a youthful mischief. 'Let's have a race!' he said, looking back to the three men behind him.

'A race?' Athos muttered, giving the lad a look.

'What a capital idea!' Aramis exclaimed, rubbing his hands together and looking to the other two. 'Come on, it doesn't have to be far!'

'I don't do running.' Athos muttered, shaking his head.

'Come on, old man- scared I'll win?' D'artagnan shot back, trying his luck with a smirk.

'Old man?' Porthos whistled under his breath. 'You gonna let him call you that?' he asked, to which Aramis stifled a chuckle.

'Come on, look at him...' D'artagnan added, throwing all caution to the wind now and standing up- he had been with these three men long enough to learn their humour. 'He's scared a little whipper-snapper like me is going to best him, aren't you?' he bent down to face Athos, who regarded him with a cool expression on his face.

'Or are you just a chicken?' the younger man teased, a grin on his face. As Athos opened his mouth to reply D'artagnan let out a few clucking noises to emphasis his point. The swordsman stood up at that, a smile playing on his lips.

'Alright, whelp- but when I win you're going to be cleaning my entire personal weapon collection, understand?'

'You've got to actually run first, you know?' D'artagnan muttered, crossing his arms. 'This time words aren't enough.' he chuckled as the four of them walked over to a clear part of of the grass.

'You sure you're old bones are strong enough to cope?' he further teased, to which Athos let out a loud chuckle.

'Oh, I am looking forward to beating you...' he promised as they all lined up.

'Shall I give the order?' Aramis asked, before clearing his throat. 'let's just go to that big tree over there, alright?' he muttered, pointing to it. 'Alright- ready...steady...GO!'

Each man set off, running as fast as they could to the tree- Aramis laughed as D'artagnan flew past him and Porthos, arms pumping as he sped towards the tree.

'HA!' the Gascon called as he put a hand on the tree, before turning back with a grin on his face as Porthos and Aramis joined him. 'Beat you, old man!' he shouted, expecting Athos to be right behind the other two. 'Athos?' he muttered, and the three of them could plainly see he had not joined them.

'Athos?!' Aramis called, before the three of them walked back the way they had come.

'There!' Porthos muttered, pointing to their friend, who was in a semi-sitting position, clutching his left leg.

'What the hell happened?' D'artagnan muttered as the three of them rushed over.

Athos looked up at him with a grimace. 'Bastard rabbit hole!' he muttered through clenched teeth, before nodding his head at the overgrown hole. 'Stepped right into it...'

'Let me see your leg.' Aramis said, crouching down beside Athos and gently taking hold of his leg and putting it onto the grass.

'Careful...' Athos muttered, hitching in a breath as Aramis gingerly moved his trouser-leg up his calf and carefully removed his boot. Porthos, who had sat himself behind Athos so the swordsman could lean on him,sucked in a breath as Aramis unveiled the problem.

'Wow, that's a good one!' the medic chuckled, but inside his heart dropped down into his stomach- a bone had snapped inside Athos' leg and was now protruding out of the skin. Blood dribbled down his leg and onto his foot, and his leg was rapidly swelling.

'How bad?' Athos asked.

'Well...put it this way, you're not going to be doing too much walking for a while.'

'Damn it!' Athos looked up at D'artagnan, who was watching the scene with a guilt trickling inside him. 'This is your fault!' he growled, but even he wasn't sure if he was entirely joking or not.

'D'artagnan, you didn't tell me you could do magic?!' Aramis muttered even before the Gascon could open his mouth to reply.

'Eh?'

'You didn't tell me you could magic up rabbit holes and place them in front of people, merely on a whim?' Aramis finished, before giving Athos a look. 'It wasn't his fault, 'Thos.' he muttered, before looking back down at the wound.

'Right- we have to splint this up before we go anywhere.' he said, going into medic-mode. 'Porthos- I need a branch, preferably thick and sturdy, and the bandages from my medical pack.'

As Porthos stood up and walked off, Aramis turned to D'artagnan, 'Lad, I need you to take your belt off.' he asked, before cleaning his hands on a cloth he kept in his pocket.

'What for?'

'Athos is going to put it in his mouth to bite on to.' he replied darkly, looking up at his friend as he prepared himself. 'This is going to hurt quite a bit.'

Athos sucked in another breath as pain lanced through his leg. 'This...is why I don't do running.' he muttered, accepting the leather belt from D'artagnan and sitting back.

'What are you going to do?' D'artagnan muttered, coming to sit beside Athos for support as Porthos came back with the branch and bandages. 'I thought you said you were going to splint it?'

'I am,' Aramis nodded, before moving so he was in the best position. 'but I cannot splint it whilst the bone is still protruding...I need to push it back into the skin before I can do that.'

'I...hate you...' Athos muttered, teeth now chattering against the pain.

Aramis chuckled. 'That's a shame, Athos, because I really love you!'

'Just get on with it...' Athos replied, before groaning under his breath as pain flourished once more.

Aramis nodded and looked down at the wound- white bone was poking out from pale flesh...he placed his hands either side of the break, withholding a wince as Athos growled out in pain as his leg involuntarily moved. He leant forwards and grasped the forgotten leather belt, putting it on Athos' lap with a pointed look. 'It really helps.' he said, to which Athos gave a nod and placed it in his mouth.

'Deep breath now, Athos...' Aramis warned as he sat back, before taking in a deep breath as he steeled himself. 'On the count of three... one...two...three-'

Each of the three other men sucked in a breath and swore in sympathy as Aramis applied even pressure to the break and the bone made an alarming dull cracking noise as it slipped back into place.

Athos spat out the belt and let out a slew of expletives before sinking back into the grass, panting heavily. 'Is it...done...now?' he muttered, gritting his teeth against the pain as Aramis quickly set about splinting it.

'Nearly done, I promise...' he nodded, before knotting the bandage around the leg and sitting on his haunches. 'You won't be able to put any pressure on it at all.' he warned, before standing up. 'You can ride with me on the way back- it'll be agony if you try and put it in your stirrups.'

'This is why I don't do fun...' Athos muttered as he wiped his hair from his forehead. 'Where's my wine skin?' he asked. He took a deep draught as Porthos handed it to him, before wiping his mouth as the other three set about getting ready to move to the city. He turned to Aramis, who was busy packing up his medical kit. 'Thank you.' he muttered, before giving him a shaky smile.

Aramis grinned back, 'don't mention it- serves you right for trying to run a race!' he chuckled, to which Porthos and D'artagnan snorted. 'I mean come on, when are you going to act your age, eh?'

Athos grumbled and sat back as he waited for the others to be ready. His leg throbbed painfully, and it was agony trying to move on it as Aramis helped him onto his horse before the medic sat behind him, grasping the reigns.

'Come on then, lets get you home,' Aramis smiled at him. Athos shot him a look, but was otherwise silent as Aramis gently moved horse forwards in the direction of the city.

After a few moments of silence Aramis leant down to Athos, so his chin was almost resting on Athos' shoulder.

'Athos?' he asked, voice light. Porthos and D'artagnan looked back at the two of them.

'Yes?' Athos muttered through gritted teeth, hoping this wasn't going to be another idiotic question.

'….fancy a game of eye-spy?'

The End.

Hope you enjoyed that! I would like to dedicate it especially to Helensg, who always asks me to write more hurt!Athos as I don't write it nearly enough...I hope you liked it!

Please review!

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