Title: Tous Pour Un, Un Pour Tous

Chapter title: When the Morning Comes and I Look for You

Author's note: First Musketeer story. This is my new obsession! And I've watched all three seasons all within the same few weeks and I absolutely loved it! This is only a short, little piece with simple motivations and simple story. Just an excuse for a little Aramis whump, which popped up in my mind one day.

This takes place a few years before the series start so no d'Artagnan in this unfortunately.

But enjoy and do be so kind as to leave a review when you're done, thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Musketeers or anything you might recognize

Athos lightly blew on the small flame and sat back when it rapidly began growing bigger as it grabbed a firm hold on the kindle. He watched and waited patiently for the flickering flame to spread to the firewood gathering in the pile. He was in no hurry for it to burn.

It was late in the spring and as such the days were starting to get warmer and brighter for a lot longer. Sundown was still a few hours away, so there was no dire need for a fire to get going. Not until Porthos showed up, that was, the large man no doubt demanding food be standing ready when he arrived. Athos had been the first to arrive of their encampment, which they had already set up from early morning, and so had begun gathering wood to light a fire while he waited for Porthos and Aramis to join him.

The three Musketeers had been sent to different Comtes in the nearby area, all armed with important letters to each one from the King. They were all within a few hours ride of each other and as such the three friends easily made the decision to assemble at a designated spot when their duty was over, to rest and eat together before heading back to Paris the following morning. Though they quickly found out the far easiest spot for all to reach in decent time had been out in the woods, they had all agreed that as long as they had each other's company it was far better than whatever small tavern they could conjure up, with only themselves and their horse as company. Aramis had been quick to counter that should he have ended up alone he would have gladly found someone to share his bed. Preferably of the female kind.

Athos had only shrugged his shoulders at the jest and moved on to further business. Aramis always had a knack of finding woman to share his bed and more often than not it led to some trouble. Nothing had ever gotten serious and they had all shared a good laugh at Aramis' expense afterwards. However, Athos still firmly believed that one day the Musketeer's good fortune would run out and real trouble would find him. Trouble he could not simply talk or duel his way out of.

The sound of hoofs disturbing the soil brought Athos out of his musings. Alert and ready for danger, he looked up, his hand already nearing his rapier. His body relaxed immediately as he saw Porthos on top his pale horse, riding alone peacefully. He looked worn from the day's ride but nodded his greetings as he drew nearer the clearing.

With a grunt he quickly dismounted and tied off his horse next to Athos' brown mare.

He took a quick look around and a satisfied smile graced his features as he saw only Athos sitting by the flickering fire.

"Looks like Aramis'll be buyin' the first round when we return to Paris," he smugly stated, as he sank down next to Athos

"Indeed. So perhaps it's time we try the finest wine Langlais has to offer," the swordsman agreed.

They waited for an hour and a half for Aramis to join their camp. However, as the sun began its journey towards the horizon and the sky slowly started taking on an orange color, worry gradually eased its way into both Athos' and Porthos' bellies.

They knew sometimes these assignments wore on a while longer than intended, should the Comte decide to reply immediately yet without truly knowing how to respond. However, Musketeers travelling alone would sometimes encounter ambushes and the like from those opposed to the King and his rule.

None of the two Musketeers voiced their concerns, but they didn't need to either. At first they had brushed it off.

"Probably found himself a lady friend, to whom he couldn't say no. It has happened before," Porthos had argued. Athos had only nodded.

But as much as Aramis occasionally got distracted he would never leave his two most trusted brothers in the dark for long. He would find a way to let them know he was alright even if he was spending the night in a woman's bed. And as time passed, slight concern grew to worry.

It exploded into anxiousness as galloping hoofs thundered across the ground. Porthos and Athos both shot up from the ground, pistols and rapiers at the ready as the source ran into the clearing.

It was Aramis' horse.

The animal slowed quickly as she neared the two Musketeers. Her nostrils flared and her breathing was ragged. Clearly she had been spooked, but somehow still held the sanity to find her way back. Porthos stepped forward towards the creature, his hand reached up before him. He waited patiently as the horse calmed and stuck her snout into his hands, seeking the comfort. She was normally a gentle and loyal beast, who never strayed too far from Aramis' side. The sight of only her brought a deep, hollowing pit in Porthos' stomach.

Something bad had definitely happened. One look over at Athos and he saw the swordsman had reached the same conclusion.

The decision was made easily.

They tied off Aramis' mare next to theirs and made sure she was calm enough not to panic and stir up the other two. They decided to leave their own horses by the camp too, should Aramis arrive while they were gone, and headed out on foot.

None of them spoke much. They were both trapped inside their minds, running all possible scenarios through their heads, speaking none of them as all were horrifying and frightful to speak out loud.

The hope that they ran into him, hair and clothes ruffled with a sheepish grin on his face dwindled and disappeared completely from their minds. Instead the images were replaced by his lifeless corpse lying on the side of the road. Those images were quickly pushed to the back of their minds as it was too much to bear should it actually be true.

The Musketeers reached the point where the lake bended to rejoin the side of the road a little while later, seeing no sign that Aramis had come by or that he was anywhere near.

That was until they saw a man slowly walking towards by the side of the road.

At first it was only a shape but they got closer it started to become easy to distinguish clothes and features. It was definitely Aramis. And they were extremely relieved to see him up and walking, but as they got closer that relief soon faded to the back of their minds. Aramis was walking without his usual grace, unsteady on his feet, wobbling and stumbling with each step. His clothes were crumpled and askew, covered in dirt and torn in a lot of places. His right hand held his rapier in a light grip and he didn't seem to notice that the sharp tip was carving a thin line in the dirt behind him as he walked. Blood covered some part of his face and the front of his shirt. Whether it was all his was impossible to tell.

"Aramis!" Porthos shouted as they got closer, almost at a full run.

He didn't respond. He stared steadily ahead, his eyes dull and unseeing. He didn't seem to register his two brothers drawing nearer.

"Aramis," Porthos gently tried again. When he finally reached him, he put a hand on his chest to slow him down.

The marksman didn't have the strength to fight back and simply stopped dead in his tracks. When he blinked it was sluggish and seemed to require a great amount of strength to open them up again.

"Aramis?" Athos tried as he placed his hand on Aramis' opposite shoulder.

Aramis blinked a couple of times as if it could shake him from his catatonic state. His brow furrowed after a couple of seconds and his eyes suddenly focused on the big man standing in front of him.

A small relieved smile stretched over his lips as recognition sparked in his gaze.

"Porthos," Aramis breathed.

Then all energy seemed to leave him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he crumpled bonelessly to the ground.

TBC