Athos stoked the fire, pushing around the logs, stirring the embers. It was turning to winter, the air becoming crisp, his breath coming out in white clouds. The chill wrapped around him and the wind rustled his hair.
Watch duty always made Athos solemn and surly. He was left with the thoughts of Milday that haunted him everyday and forced him to drink every night, the only difference being he couldn't use drink to chase them away. So when D'artagnan started whimpering in his sleep he relished at the distraction.
The noises came out softly and far apart at first. He sounded like an ill child, fussing in his sleep, trying to get comfortable. But then the sounds came closer together and words started forming in his throat. Athos could hear the words "No" and "Please" coming from the boy. He frowned and his eyebrows furrowed. This wasn't a passing terror, he should know, having his own about Milady every night he was sober.
He was about to wake D'artagnan from his torture when the boy bolted straight up. He saw D'artagnan immediately reach for his rapier, but he had been wise enough to move it away from the boy. Many a time had he woken up and lashed out with his weapon, not being in his right mind. He wasn't worried so much about D'artagnan hurting the others as he was about him hurting himself. People did strange things in their pain.
D'artagnan looked around when he couldn't find his rapier. He spotted Athos by the fire and looked down.
"Looking for this?" He held the rapier aloft but D'artagnan did not look up. When a few minutes passed and no response came from the Gascon Athos tried again.
"Care to share what's on your mind? Whatever it is, its clearly bothering you. Perhaps sharing it will ease your mind."
Again, no response came from D'artagnan and Athos sighed. He wasn't one to press another man to share his thoughts if he had no desire but if D'artagnan was distracted it could prove a danger to them all.
He had an idea as to what could possibly be bothering the boy. It had been little more than a month since D'artagnan's explosive entrance into their life. He was arrogant, cocky, impulsive and naïve. But he was a gentleman, he learned quickly and was very skilled. Everything else could be taught in time. So only a few days after he had accused Athos of the murder of his father he turned around and started training with them to become a Musketeer. And from what Athos gathered he had taken no time to properly mourn his father's death. It was one thing to avenge a murdered father, another to mourn him.
He got up, grunting at the effort as his frozen bones protested and went over to the young Gascon. D'artagnan still looked down, even when he sat down next to him.
"There is no shame in missing your father. You have done honorably by him and by us. We would not fault you nor think less of you for mourning him properly."
It was this that finally got the boy to break. At first he sniffled, trying to stifle his tears. Athos took the boy's head and pulled it to his chest, resting his chin on his head. The crying turned to sobbing, the kind only a broken heart can cause. Athos knew the sound, recognizing it from his own heartbreak and wishing he had someone to comfort him. He would not leave D'artagnan to face this alone.