Author's note: I had the idea for this story after listening to Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons. I would love for Aramis and Anne to have a happy ending on the show but this ship is so doomed, I cannot see how they would manage it. So this little story is angsty, but I hope you will enjoy it anyway.

Bleeding Out

You tell me to hold on

Oh you tell me to hold on

But innocence is gone

And what was right is wrong

Cause I'm bleeding out

So if the last thing I do

Is bring you down

I'll bleed out for you

Imagine Dragons

Aramis was walking behind the Queen and her entourage with his three friends. It was summer in Paris, the weather was gorgeous so staying inside the Palace would have been a pity. For the past fortnight, her Majesty and her ladies-in-waiting, as well as the Dauphin, had spent their afternoons in a quiet corner of the gardens. She enjoyed taking her meals outside, some musicians providing entertainment.

Everybody knew she also requested to spend so much time outside because the King was strutting about with his new mistress at his arm. The Queen could only handle the humiliation for so long before it became too much. It angered Aramis to see that the King could not appreciate the young woman he was married to. If he was in his place, he would...

No, he chastised himself. There was no point in having this kind of thought. Wishful thinking would never lead him anywhere, not in this situation. Nevertheless, there was something between the Queen and him that there would never be between her and her lawful husband. She was the one who kissed him last month when they had spent the night at Emilie's camp. To say that it had surprised him was an understatement. He wished they had not been interrupted by Constance, although he also realized it was foolish because anyone could have walked in on them.

The young woman had not said anything, she wanted to protect the Queen at all costs. Still, it gave some hope to Aramis. A foolish hope perhaps yet, his feelings for her Majesty may be mutual. It was a comfort. It made his duty to watch over the Dauphin easier to bear. Looking out for him from afar was all he desired. Desiring more was beyond dangerous.

"I don't like this," Aramis muttered as they reached their destination. The setting was rather bucolic and soon the women' chatter filled the air. The four soldier remained on the side.

"I agree," Athos concurred. "It's too regular; it's always the same spot. There are too many alleys leading here."

"We've talked about that before and every time it's the same answer. Her Majesty enjoys it here so she will not relocate. Besides, it is too cool to come during the morning or the evening. We have saved her life too many times in the past, she must believe we have the ability to sense when danger is coming." Porthos shook his head, a hand on the pommel of his sword.

"I still don't like it. I have a bad feeling." It was going to rain soon, Aramis could feel it. He strained his eyes on the hedge which was blocking his view of whatever or whoever might come from this direction. "I will make sure everything is safe over there."

His three friends watched him walk away. As he passed near the ladies, his eyes crossed Marguerite's who was holding the heir in her arms. She smiled at him. Despite having told her that she should not get attached, she had done precisely this. Aramis smiled back, but his heart was not in it.

He walked behind the high hedge, inspecting every inch of the alley. It was empty. Still, he continued until he could barely hear voices, then, he started back, half-satisfied. There was this strange gnawing at his heart. It had been there for quite some time, but it was becoming oppressing.

Aramis was almost back in the meadow when he heard it. One shot followed by a second and a third. Not coming from where he had left his companions. Instead they came from behind him, from the palace. He heard Athos shout and he sprinted toward the sound of it. As he rounded the corner of the hedge, it was chaos. All the ladies were in a frantic panic, Marguerite was holding a wailing Dauphin to her chest, the Queen was keeping close to Constance, absolutely not knowing what was happening. More shots were heard. It also sounded like windows were being shattered.

"Look out!" Porthos shouted. There were two riders coming in their direction at a full gallop. They did not look like they belonged in the guard. The Musketeer ran in their direction, dodging a bullet heading for him. Porthos was strong and ferocious. He planted himself in front of one of the horses, forcing the enemy to squid to an halt.

The second one kept on riding toward the Queen and her entourage.

"Down! "d'Artagnan screamed. "Constance, down! Get down!" He started out to protect them, motioning with his hand to kneel. The women only did so when a second bullet skimmed past the young Musketeer's head to end in a bottle of wine. It exploded, sending shards and red liquid everywhere. There were shrieks.

Aramis grabbed his pistol, trying to aim calmly. The rider was coming fast, though, and there were lives at stake which were so dear to him. His heart was beating in his chest. He fired, hitting the man's shoulder. The latter groaned, bending forward on his horse, but not stopping.

Athos caught up with the mount, attempting to grab the reins. His opponent let his foot out of the stirrup, kicking the soldier in the chest. He fell back, sliding in the gravel, his head slamming on the ground.

D'Artagnan yelled his name, but there was no answer. The Queen was kneeling by his side, shaking under the arm he had put around her shoulders so she would keep her head down. The Dauphin was not with her and she was terrified. On his other side, Constance was trembling and crying, holding on to his uniform. He could not make them move, it was too perilous.

The injured assailant was getting too close. Aramis did not have another pistol to use, which was not the case of the other. From his valid arm, he pointed it toward the group. The Musketeer had to make a decision in a split second. It would do no good to try to stop the horse, Athos was the proof of it. Then, he saw where the rider was aiming and without thinking, he sprinted toward Marguerite.

He would rather die than see his son wounded. The governess let out a shrill, the baby in her arms wailing louder as they were toppled by the Musketeer. Another shot was heard. Aramis was stunned by the fall, unable to move, the boy beneath him was too precious to dare look up when danger could still loom.

There was a roar, typical of Porthos, followed by one last shot before silence fell in the meadow. The assassin had been killed. The ladies were crying, d'Artagnan was inquiring about the Queen, Porthos was calling for Athos to wake up. All these noises sounded muffled to Aramis. He tried to stand up, only to fall back on Marguerite. It was too painful.

"Oh my God! Aramis!" He recognized the Queen's voice among more screams. Someone was touching his back and it hurt. It hurt horribly. The simple action of raising his head was too much. The baby was still bawling. It was doing him no good to be squashed by the soldier. Aramis was aware of it. He had to stand up. He had to, but he could not. Pain shot through his entire body and he screamed out.

"d'Artagnan! He's bleeding. He's bleeding!" Soon, Aramis was rolled over by two strong arms, Marguerite and the Dauphin finally free to stand up. Opening his eyes, the Musketeer saw the Queen sitting in the grass next to him, holding his hand. His head was on d'Artagnan's lap.

"Hurts...It hurts...Move..."

"What's happening?" Athos seemed to have recovered. He must have been the one kneeling on his other side, but Aramis could hardly see anything amidst the fog. His back hurt; his body was on fire, jerking. Athos noticed how red the Queen's hands were.

"He flew between the bullet and my son. Athos, do something. Please," she pleaded, tears in her eyes. Blood was spreading on the grass underneath his friend. It did not look good.

"Let's put him on his side, d'Artagnan." Ignoring his cries of pain, they turned him so they could assess the damage. The wound was on his lower back and when Athos pressed down in the attempt to stop the bleeding, Aramis cried out so loudly he stopped at once. When the older Musketeer realized where all of this was leading, he cursed.

"Come on, Aramis. Hold on! Your work is not done here. Do you hear me? Hold on, dammit!"

The Queen was openly crying, holding Aramis' hand tight. This man had shown her that she could somehow be happy in her life so she was not ready to let him go. She did not care if people were watching because her soldier was dying and she had to be by his side. He could not leave her without knowing how she really felt.

D'Artagnan rolled him gently on his back again, still supporting his head on his lap. Porthos finally reached them, taking it all in, only to sink to his knees next to the Queen when he realized how dire the situation was.

"Hey, my friend. Why do you always have to be such a hero?" The joke only made Aramis laugh, the others too distressed and desperate to do anything but stare at the wounded. When he laughed, he coughed out blood, which made Porthos lose his smile at once.

"Hold on, Aramis, don't worry. We're going to patch you up all good, aren't we?" The Musketeer felt his heart break when Athos shook his head sadly. The Queen was sobbing violently.

"The baby...Where's the baby?" Aramis asked painfully, struggling to keep his eyes open. He was cold and hot at the same time. Cool fingers pressed on his brow, soothing him a little.

"He's perfectly well, thanks to you. You saved his life."

"Well, I did promise, didn't I?"

"Marguerite." It was a soft order. There was shuffling behind him. The Queen let go of his hand. Athos knew he should not have allowed her Majesty to do what she was doing. It was too dangerous for her and her son. She knelt by Aramis' side again, the baby in her arms. The soldier looked at them with glassy eyes, a small smile spreading on his lips.

"He's safe, Aramis. He will always be safe as long as Musketeers are around to protect him."

Having forgotten that his friends were around him, as well as the ladies, he reached up toward his child. His beautiful child with blue eyes and blond hair. His beautiful child who would grow up looking much like his mother. The Dauphin had calmed down a little. Aramis' fingers touched his cheek, memorizing the edges of his face, the curve of his tiny nose and chin. It brought him some comfort and peace.

Aramis closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the pain. Someone shook him with great strength, probably Porthos.

"Stay awake, stay with us!"

"It hurts..."

"You'll be fine soon, Aramis," Athos promised. "It'll be over soon."

"How dare you say that?" Queen Anne exclaimed, handing the baby over to his governess. His small clothes were stained with blood. "I order you to save him. Do you hear me? I am your Queen and you will save him!"

"Your Majesty...," he started. Her heart was breaking in front of him, she had forgotten what her position was and how dangerous her words were.

"Cold...thirsty..."

"Here," d'Artagnan presented a glass of water to his lips. The young Musketeer was trying to hold himself together much like Athos was doing, but he could not watch his friend die and remain impassive. Aramis managed to take one sip before he coughed again. Cool fingers were back on his forehead. They were so soft.

"He's burning up."

"Can't feel my legs," Aramis whispered. He was sweating, it hurt to open his eyes and his entire upper body was trembling.

"Hold on, please, I'm begging you, Aramis. Hold on. We need you here." The Queen's voice was coming to him in the darkness. It was the last thing he could hang on to. He loved her so much, and he could never say it to her. He wanted to sleep. Perhaps the pain would leave if he went to sleep. The memory of his son's skin was on his fingers, making him smile. His mother...his mother was by his side.

"Anne..."

"I'm here." She squeezed his hand. Porthos raised an eyebrow at such familiarity. His friend did not know what he was saying anymore. If these bastards were not already dead, he would have killed them on the spot. They were taking his best friend from him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"For leaving you."

"You need not apologise, Aramis. You have given me so much, much more than I would have ever hoped for. You were a miracle in my life and I will never thank you enough for it." Hearing her speak in Spanish warmed his heart. It was the sound of his childhood. It sounded perfect.

"Take care of him, will you?"

"Always. I will tell him stories about his father. Stories about the wonderful Musketeer who saved his life." The Queen was crying as she spoke.

"Good."

Aramis hurt so much, he felt like he was going to implode. He could not take it anymore. The last time he opened his eyes, it was to gaze at the Queen's face. She was so beautiful, even with her disheveled hair and tears running down her cheeks. It was the last sight he took with him as he took his last breath. There was no more pain.

"No!" Porthos roared. "No!"

d'Artagnan was sobbing, Constance kneeling next to him. Athos could not abandon himself to the misery he was feeling. Aramis had left a legacy that he had to protect. The Queen was surely going to make a mistake. He stood up, went to her side and forced her to her feet. It was not difficult, she was too shaken to resist him. Forgetting the protocol, he held her close in his arms while she cried.

"He's dead, he's dead, he's dead," she repeated endlessly, her hands clutching his uniform.

"He died to save your son, your Majesty. There could not have been a better death for him, you know it in your heart," he was speaking so low that nobody could hear him. "Honour him."

The Queen nodded, abandoning herself to the embrace of the friend who protected her. She loved Aramis, she would always do. She would always have a reminder of him in her life and she would make sure her son grew up in a way that would make his father proud.

My God, please, forgive him for his sins. Forgive me for my sins.

So I bare my skin

and I count my sins

and I close my eyes and I take it in

I'm bleeding out

I'm bleeding out for you.