A/N This is my first Musketeers fic so apologises if any one seems out of character.

Porthos was wandering the streets aimlessly. Recently he had been spending more and more time away from Flea and Charon. It was not that he no longer cared for his friends, it was the opposite, he loved them dearly. They were the family he hadn't had since the age of five. But he wanted something more than what the Court offered. He wanted to be able to walk the streets of Paris with his head held high and have people respect him, and not be judged for his ratty clothes. He sighed, he knew he was stuck where he was; he was never going to amount to anything. He was doomed to be one of those from the Court of Miracles.

He found a good place to lean against a wall and contented himself with watching the bustling streets. Usually, he, Charon and Flea did this to pick a target, but today he just wanted to watch the people he could never be like. He was jolted from his thoughts at a loud shout. He swung his head around to see an old woman lying on the floor winded with a Musketeer crouched beside her, he watched as another Musketeer tried to keep up with another who was chasing a young man who had obviously winded the old woman to steal from her. Porthos knew that trick, but he would never have done that to someone who was old and unable to work, they needed money just as much as he and his fellow Court members did. So Porthos decided to follow the two Musketeers and help capture the thief. But he took the back alleys, soon the thief began running down the wide alley, he himself was in.

Porthos remained in the shadows and watched as only one of the Musketeers ran down the alley. The dark haired Musketeer called for the thief to stop and give himself up.

"I'm not doing that! If I do you'll take me to the Chataelet!" screeched the thief.

Porthos couldn't help but agree with the thief, he had long since learned to avoid the distinctive blue cloaks worn by the King's Musketeers, despite the Regiment only having been formed last year.

The dark haired Musketeer shook his head as he took a few steps closer to the thief, "If you return the woman's purse to me now. I will let you go"

Porthos gaped in shock; he had not expected to hear those words come out of a Musketeer's mouth. Looking at the thief, Porthos could see they were thinking the same thing.

"How do I know you're not lying" spat the thief as he glared daggers at the Musketeer.

The Musketeer held up his hands and removed his hat while he calmly replied, "Just throw me the purse and you can be on your way"

Porthos watched as the thief gripped the scarf around his neck, betraying his anxiety. He was clearly wondering whether he should trust the Musketeer. Porthos looked at the dark haired man and saw in his eyes no lie. The Musketeer would truly let the thief go if he only handed the purse over.

Porthos could see the thief twitching as if he was about to throw the purse to the Musketeer when a distant voice shouted out, "Aramis!"

The Musketeer twitched his head slightly showing that it was his name that had been shouted. The thief believing that it was all a trick surged forward ripping the scarf from his neck and wrapped it around the Musketeer's neck and pulled tight.

Porthos stayed in the shadows deliberating on what he should do, it was one thing to make sure a thief was caught by the Musketeers. It was a completely different thing to save a Musketeer.

The Musketeer widened his eyes in shock and tried to wriggle out of the tight grip around his neck. But the thief in his desperation hung on and in the Musketeer's struggle the scarf was only tightened. Porthos shuddered hearing the desperate gasping breaths of the man being strangled. The thief lowered them to the muddy ground and tightened the scarf again. The Musketeer with one hand desperately pulled against the scarf to give himself some room to breathe, and his other hand was lying beside him clutching the filthy mud as if this would help him through the pain. His hat dropping onto the muddy street forgotten in the struggle.

Porthos was still frozen in the shadows, this was not the first time he had stayed hidden while someone was killed in front of him. He had hidden many times to keep himself alive. He watched as the Musketeer's struggles began to weaken and the tension was beginning to leak out of him. His hands weren't pulling at the scarf as strongly and he wasn't kicking out his legs as much as he had been to desperately escape. Porthos was prepared to stay hidden. But remembering the honest look in the Musketeer's eyes as he promised to let the thief go. He realized Paris needed more Musketeers' like this one, so Porthos' next move was decided.

He leapt out of the shadows and surprised the thief enough that he was able to pull him away from the Musketeer and as the thief tried to fight back Porthos punched him so he was knocked unconscious. He was prepared to run away but the hoarse, gasping breathes of the Musketeer stilled him. He turned and saw the Musketeer still trying to pull enough air into his lungs through his abused throat. Porthos crawled over to the man, that closer up looked roughly the same age as Porthos himself. Whatever age that was.

He settled a hand on the man's chest and calmly stated, "Easy. Breathe slower; you're not doing yourself any favours breathing harshly like that." Wide dark brown eyes stared back up at him and Porthos steadily met the gaze, realizing the Musketeer was trying to focus on him to help himself steady his breathing.

"That's it, nice and slow" Porthos encouraged. He went to remove the scarf from around the Musketeer's neck, but a hand shot up and stilled his hand. He looked into the brown eyes and saw barely concealed panic.

"I'm only going to remove the scarf. I won't pull on it I promise" Porthos gently said. The hand around his wrist dropped away and the Musketeer watched carefully as the scarf was gently removed from around his neck. Porthos chucked the scarf to the side and winced seeing the bright red mark around the man's neck. Seeing it on the neck of an honest man made Porthos want to punch the (still unconscious) thief again. A hand again stilled him and he looked down to see the Musketeer shake his head.

"Risky job. Used to situations like this" the Musketeer rasped barely audible. Before Porthos could say anything he turned hearing pounding feet coming up the alley.

"Aramis!" called a man, who Porthos guessed was in his middle age, and guessed from the looks of his clothes was in command of the Musketeers. He looked panicked seeing his Musketeer lying in the muddy street. He relaxed a little when the Musketeer, Aramis, lifted a hand slightly and waved.

"What happened?!" demanded the man as he stood above Aramis and Porthos. Aramis opened his mouth to reply but all that came out was a croaky hissing sound. The man raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Porthos then spoke up, "He tried to apprehend a thief, the one lying over there" he gestured to the thief where two Musketeers, the ones he saw earlier, were pulling the thief up and dragging him away. "The thief then tried to strangle the Muske – Aramis… and then I stopped him"

The older man paused and then smiled, "And I thank you for saving the life of my Musketeer"

Porthos nodded his head in acceptance, and then together he and the older man lifted Aramis to his feet. The old man slung one of Aramis' arms over his shoulders and looked at the younger man despairingly.

"I know I said I wanted some peace and quiet. But did you have to go to the extreme for me to get a few days respite from your never ceasing voice?"

Aramis shrugged sheepishly. He then tugged on Porthos' sleeve, while Aramis may have been unable to say anything. Porthos knew he was being thanked.

Porthos nodded and then paused before saying, "You may want to find yourself some faster friends, so you are never in this kind of a situation again"

Aramis' shoulders shook in his silent laughter, but he nodded his head in agreement.

The older man hummed and then commented, "I'm going to have to speak to Gilbert and Tristan about that. I know Tristan was helping the woman, but Gilbert should have stayed with you. He should have known better than to let you apprehend a man on your own. That is just asking for trouble"

Porthos nodded, silently happy that something was going to be done, he didn't like the thought of this kind-hearted Aramis getting killed through his fellow Musketeers' incompetence. The old man and Aramis waved goodbye and walked back to their garrison. As Porthos was about to walk away he noticed Aramis' hat still lying in the street. He bent and picked it up and brushed the mud off and then walked away.

Two days later Porthos found himself nervously pacing in front of the Musketeer garrison. Clutched nervously in his hands was Aramis' hat. It had taken Porthos two days to work up the nerve to come to the garrison. People like him didn't willingly come here. As he was about to walk away and try again the next day when he spotted Aramis walking towards him and grinning at him.

"You've found my hat!" he gleefully exclaimed.

"Er…yeah…here" Porthos replied as he held the hat out, he wasn't going to confess to having the hat for two days.

Once Aramis had firmly placed the hat onto his head, he smiled brightly at Porthos. "Now that I have my voice back I can properly thank you. And not just for the safe return of my hat"

"It was nothing" shrugged Porthos.

"Oh no! Don't just brush it off!" complained Aramis, "It was a nice thing you did. Most people would have carried on walking. So I thank you profusely for helping me…er…?"

Porthos nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Porthos…um… it's alright"

Before Aramis could say anything else, or before Porthos could make his excuses and leave. A voice called out to him and he was face to face with the older man.

"I was hoping I would see you again. My name is Captain Treville" Treville paused and gave a side glance to a smiling Aramis and raised his eyebrows, "don't you have some duties you need to be completing?"

Aramis grinned, "But Captain it is such a glorious day and I thought I would just-" he stopped suddenly seeing the look he was being given by Treville. "Er… yes my duties. Thank you again Porthos. Goodbye"

Porthos smiled as he watched Aramis walk away, he looked back at Treville just in time to see him raise his eyes heavenward.

"As I was saying" continued Treville, "Would you mind walking with me? I'd like to ask you something"

Porthos didn't know what it was that made him agree to walk with Treville. He was just thankful that he did. While the talk led to him leaving the Court and his friends. It also led to him to be able to walk down the streets of Paris with his head held high, he was shown respect and he could ensure Aramis was not killed through someone's incompetence. This better chapter of his life was all down to him being brave enough to step in and help someone and no longer hiding in the shadows.

TBC