A/N: This is another prompt fill, though, as it isn't just an Aramis-centric prompt fill, I'm giving it its own space. I'm also not sure where the original prompt shuffled off to, but what I remember of it from when I marked it down, was that it was a request for a 4 or 5 times fic that shows the boys demonstrating how well they know each other by highlighting their intuition about each other and each others' needs. That's the theme you'll see here, with one chapter for each character. As has also become typical for me, some of the chapters or "times" will be set in the early days of d'Artagnan's experience with the regiment, with him learning about the other three, and showing his growing understanding while becoming a part of them. Apparently, I haven't yet tired of that theme either.
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Intuition and Circumstance: To sleep, perchance to dream
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Aramis caught d'Artagnan's wrist just inches before it came into contact with Porthos' shoulder. When d'Artagnan looked up at him, he held a finger to his lips, shaking his head.
D'Artagnan frowned, glancing over at Athos who stood on the other side of the room. Athos shook his head as well. "Let him sleep," he whispered, trading a brief look with Aramis.
In reply, Aramis tugged d'Artagnan back toward the hallway to the outside door, keeping him silent until they got outside.
"Isn't Treville going to be upset when he doesn't appear?" asked d'Artagnan, once the door was closed and the young sunlight was spilling across his shoulders. "The captain requested the presence of all four of us."
"We'll cover for him," answered Aramis, adjusting the lay of his sword belt and hat. "Besides, the captain will understand."
"Porthos needs the rest," Athos explained, when d'Artagnan's confused eyes shot in his direction.
Aramis nodded, patted d'Artagnan's shoulder in agreement with their leader, then began following Athos toward the direction of the gate.
"Why does Porthos need his rest?" d'Artagnan asked, striding easily to catch up with them.
"By my estimate, he probably didn't get to sleep until about an hour ago," Aramis said, pacing to Athos' shoulder while allowing a gap for d'Artagnan to slot himself between them.
"How could you possibly know that? You just returned from your assignment this morning - hardly even an hour ago and before the sun was even up. You haven't seen Porthos for three days or spoken to anyone else in the regiment. And I couldn't have told you - I've been on assignment in the palace armory for the last four, and I haven't seen him either."
"Ah, the duties of a new recruit," Aramis mused, blinking into the sunlight as it grew brighter.
"Aramis, it's a serious question. How could you possibly know he needs his rest?"
Athos, in his continuing silence, glanced at d'Artagnan, then traded another look with Aramis.
"We just do," said Aramis.
Rolling his eyes, d'Artagnan huffed. "Now, now - much as I respect the three of you and would never denounce you to the church - don't think I haven't noticed your supernatural ability to communicate with each other by saying nothing at all," he snarked, "but the occasional insight into your particular style of witchcraft would not be unappreciated. Particularly if I'm going to continue working with you."
Another traded glance with Athos, and Aramis sighed, slowing to a stop with hands on his hips. "He gets nightmares. Sometimes. Those very rare occasions when Athos and I are sent on assignment without him, well that - occasionally - has brought them on." He grimaced then, turning his body toward the shadows. "It isn't every time we're gone - just, occasionally, as I said."
"And you think he was having nightmares last night?"
"He was probably trying to avoid them," answered Athos with a shrug. "He does that sometimes - lets the worry take over until he can talk himself down. Preferring to pace, or read, or practice swordplay, rather than allow himself to sleep and let the fears play out in his mind."
"Oh." D'Artagnan's eyebrows wrinkled of their own accord and he stared back at the door to Porthos' lodgings. "But, then - wouldn't it be better to wake him up and let him know you're both all right?"
"We could," Athos said sedately, then took d'Artagnan's elbow to get the three of them walking again. "But we won't."
D'Artagnan frowned, unimpressed with the short answer.
Athos seemed disinclined to expound further, but before d'Artagnan could say anything, Aramis picked up the thread. "We've tried that, actually. It seemed to make it worse. We've learned since that when he does finally talk himself out of such a state and into sleep, he'll sleep like the dead until his body doesn't need any more. If we wake him before then, he becomes ... he'll be ... "
"Off-kilter," Athos supplied.
Aramis nodded. "Off-kilter for days," he finished.
"Oh." D'Artagnan pulled at his thoughts, working these new pieces of information into his ever-growing bank of knowledge. "But - how did you know for certain that's what happened?" He gestured at the early-morning light. "I mean, it's not unusual to find someone asleep at this hour, and you said yourself, it only happens sometimes when you're on assignment, not every time, so ... "
"He has a look," shrugged Aramis, matching the gesture to the words.
"A look." D'Artagnan slowed, narrowing his eyes. "He has a look? While sleeping?"
"He does," confirmed Athos.
"Hmm," added Aramis. "A distinct one."
Sighing, d'Artagnan sped his steps to catch up his pace. "He didn't look any different to me."
Aramis clapped a hand to his shoulder, glanced behind them in the direction of Porthos' quarters, then gave d'Artagnan's shoulder another squeeze. "You'll catch on to it. Eventually. Trust me."
"Will I?" d'Artagnan breathed, not meaning the question to actually be heard.
Athos and Aramis exchanged another look, and Athos smiled warmly - what turned out to be a quick and fleeting softening of his features. "I have no doubt," he answered, and graced d'Artagnan's shoulder with his own solid pat.
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A/N: Obvious quote from Hamlet is credited to Shakespeare.