Notes:
Hello! I'm back with the next installment of the Blood Ties series. I realise I left you with quite the cliff hanger last time, hopefully this will make up for that.
The reading of the previous works in this series before Blood Bond is reccomended.
Enjoy and let me know what you think!
Blood Bond
Chapter 1
My name is d'Artagnan de Lupiac.
My wife's name is Constance de Lupiac.
My teammate's names are Aramis Herblay and Porthos du Vallon.
Our leader's name is Athos Alexander.
We are Musketeers.
All for one and one for all.
How long had it been? A month? How had d'Artagnan been gone a month? The funeral was over, the body was buried in a grave which no longer looked so fresh. Athos made the journey to the gravesite every day of enforced leave (not a punishment as Treville had emphasised, but some much needed thinking time to clear his head). He hadn't brought flowers, but did wipe any stray dirt and leaves from the marbled headstone. Once it was clean he ran a finger across the engraving. It was a beautiful marker, one which Constance could never have paid for himself. From what he'd heard, it had been a gift from Anne Royaline. She'd said d'Artagnan deserved the best. It was a tall piece of black stone which had been buffed to a bright shine. d'Artagnan's name was picked out in gold across the marker, along with the dates of life and the words, "No more devoted husband or brother will ever be found. All for one."
All for one…
Athos swallowed, the numbness in his chest swelling at the words.
I'm sorry… He promised the stone yet again.
"Say it, Charles!" The voice snarled above him, hand pressing into his burns, causing the dull roar of his injuries to shriek into white hot arks which across his body stole his breath.
"Tell me you're mine!"
My name is d'Artagnan de.. Something.
My wife's name is Constance.
My teammate's names are Aramis and Po… Porthos?
Our leader's name is Athos.
All for one and one for all.
Six weeks. Six weeks and Athos found himself sitting across from his Captain. Treville leaned forward, his sharp eyes taking the younger man's crumpled suit and dark, tired eyes. He had attempted to keep an eye on the man during his leave, spoken to him on the phone, but now he realised just how much had slipped passed him. Perhaps giving Athos time to think had been a mistake, perhaps it had done more harm than good. Too much time to over analyse and brood and go over events again and again until he was driven mad.
Too much time to self-destruct.
Possibly it was better to have Athos here, among people who cared for him, while he dealt with the loss of their youngest.
"Do you want to return?"
"I do, Sir."
Treville rubbed a hand over his jaw, "And are you fit to return, Athos?"
The abrupt question made the man pause, considering the matter. Finally he exhaled.
"Honestly? I am not sure. I want to be, but I don't think I will know until I try."
"Thank you for being candid," Treville nodded. It was an honest response, if not a positive one. That was enough for Treville. Decision made, the older man reached into his desk and retrieved Athos' ID badge.
"We've missed you, Athos," Treville offered his second in command a small smile, "It's good to have you back."
"Say it. Say it!"
My name is d'Art-…d'Artagnan?
My wife's name is Constance.
My teammate's names are… Are…
Our leader's name is…
All for one.
Three month. How could it be three months since they had lost him? Athos squeezed his eyes shut, the wine in his system sharpening every guilty emotion which bombarded him, stabbing them with their spiked accusations. He'd almost forgotten. How? How had it been three months? How had his life been allowed to continue while his was cut short? It should have been him, it should him in that warehouse. It should have been –
A hand slid into his hair and tugged hard, forcing Athos' head back. He hissed at the glorious pain as it jerked him out of his spiralling and back to reality. His eyes opened, taking in the bright blond hair and blue eyes which scrutinised him
"Distraction?" Ninon's voice wafted over his skin, her lips ghosting over his exposed jaw.
An excited shudder coursed through Athos' body. Just for a second his guilt dulled, overrun by a quake of anticipation, excitement about what was to come.
"Please, Ninon."
"Tell me what I want to hear, Charles!"
Pain. White, scalding, sweeping pain.
My name is d'Art..
"Say it!"
My name is d'Art…
My name is…
Six months. Even after six months the office felt wrong, so, so, wrong. Athos pressed the thought away as he faced his team. Their new mission briefing was clutched in his hand, Treville's orders clear and fresh in his mind. Aramis offered a small smile, Porthos a nod, as they waited for him to begin. Athos dropped his gaze back to the brown folder in his hand, an attempt to control the temptation to glance back over to the empty desk. To d'Artagnan's old desk. Someone had been in during his absence. His lap top was gone, his name plate too. The picture of d'Artagnan and Constance, smiling at the camera in some Parisian bar had been removed. Athos had taken that photograph on d'Artagnan's 21st birthday… Part of him wished they'd left it up somewhere in the office. Because now there was not a hint of d'Artagnan left in their office. Not even a scrap of paper baring his hand writing. It was like they'd transported the room back in time, as if the last twenty months of their lives never happened. As if d'Artagnan had never happened.
Athos shook his head, shook himself out of those dark thoughts, and looked up at his teammates. They just smiled back, waiting patiently.
"So," Porthos leant forward carefully as not to knock his still healing side, "What's Treville got for us?"
Athos flipped the file open. Dark, wrinkled eyes surrounded by pale skin and short grey hair stared back at him from a photograph. He flipped the file, so the photograph looked out at his teammates. Aramis' eyes darkened but Porthos let out a low growl.
"He wants us ta' take down Richelieu?"
"d'Art-" Saying the name out loud was harder than Athos expected. He swallowed and tried again. "d'Artagnan's last act was to send us photographs of that dynamite. Marmion might have been buying but it was Richelieu who sold it. We take down Richelieu, his network, the whole Guard and we do it in his memory."
Athos paused, his eyes falling on each of his teammates. They all had a personal stake in the assignment, in fact every single agent did. By rights they likely shouldn't even be handling the case, but Treville was never one to be constrained by rules. Rules really were more guidelines to the man anyway.
With a suspicious amount of blinking Aramis dropped his gaze to his own desk and nodded, "For him." Athos decided not to mention the wobble of his teammate's voice.
Porthos' face was rather drawn when Athos glanced his way. His lips were tight as his gaze darted to the empty chair in the room before returning to Athos. His voice though, when he answered, was strong.
"We take 'im down," Porthos growled, eyes narrowing on Richelieu's picture with a kind of hatred Athos had never seen in him before, "We'll make sure Richelieu never again sees the light of day... For 'im. For d'Artagnan."
"Say it. Now! Tell me who you belong too!"
My name is…
My name is…
Pain. Red, scorching, all consuming pain.
My name is…
"Say it! Say it!"
"I'm…" The words dragged up his throat like glass shard, slicing and cutting his gullet as he spoke.
"That's it! Keep going, tell me what I want to hear and the pain will stop."
"I'm yours…"
