Title: The Ways to Home

By: tidia

Disclaimer: BBC owns the characterizations they have created of the Musketeers.

Spoilers: Yes 1.10

All mistakes my own- I did not read this over before I posted.

Notes: Okay, I am indulging myself on this one because I have read some fics where d'Artagnan is hurt and then there is no comfort so I am remedying that for myself and figured I would share. I really need to pick on Athos next.


The Second Way Home

It took five days for them to find d'Artagnan in a stank, basement room hanging from the ceiling with his arms raised up, feet not touching the ground. He had flinched, then squinted as he opened his eyes in the light.

Porthos cut him down, while Athos held him so he would not crumple to the ground, trying not to grip too hard to cause more pain as Athos had seen the blood on his protégé.

"Can you carry him? There is a cart outside." Aramis asked put his hand along the side of the Gascon's face. "We need to tend to him elsewhere."

The floor was dirt and the room cold. Athos nodded, and started out the door and up the stairs. The cart was waiting. Aramis took off his cloak, placed it in the card and Athos lowered d'Artagnan gently upon it.

Porthos came holding a light over them. D'Artagnan had been left in his smalls- clothes, boots, cloak and sword gone more than likely sold, though they did not ask the culprits, who had wanted revenge on the musketeers. They had asked them d'Artagnan's location before bringing an end to their lives.

"d'Artagnan?" Athos asked while Aramis did a cursory examination. "I should not have been surprised that you would find trouble as soon as you became a musketeer." He hoped that the younger man would answer, but saw that his eyes were closed whether in sleep, unconsciousness or avoidance.

"It's not a good way to break in the cuff," Porthos added. They had retrieved that from the wrongdoers.

"They sliced him with a blade and whipped his back. There are some bruises, too." Aramis sat back on his haunches in the cart.

"We killed them too quickly." Porthos growled.

"Let's get him back to the garrison." Aramis remained inside the cart to keep d'Artagnan steady.

They made quick work getting through the Paris streets and taking d'Artagnan inside to set him on Aramis's table.

"Do you want to call a physician?" Athos asked. He would follow whatever Aramis suggested in order to bring d'Artagnan back whole.

"Not yet," Aramis answered. "I do need water."

"Already on its way," Porthos had two buckets of water, one steaming and the other not. They had done this too many times not to know what was needed.

"Help me to wash him so I can better look at the wounds." They each grabbed a cloth, carefully using the hot water to unveil each mark.

"He's going to need your stitch work," Porthos commented.

When Athos went to turn d'Artagnan on his back, the touch to his shoulder had d'Artagnan moaning. Athos raked a hand through the Gascon's hair. "Shhh, it's okay. You're safe. You're with us."

d'Artagnan's eyes blinked open. He stared at them for a moment as if taking in that they were real. "Water?"

Athos and Porthos helped him to sit up slowly, which resulted in a gasp. Aramis brought the water to his lips. He took tentative sips.

"My arms hurt," he mumbled after Aramis took the water away.

"They had you hanging from your arms. There will be soreness," Aramis said. "We need to clean your back, then get you stitched up." In the sitting up position there were minute shakes in d'Artagnan's frame.

The Gascon nodded, and Aramis worked quickly while the other two held him up, settling him back down with relief. Aramis was threading his needle.

"How long?" d'Artagnan whispered, and they all wished he would now fall unconscious. Many of the wounds were bleeding, which meant there would be much stitching.

"Four days," Athos pulled up a chair. "We're sorry we did not find you sooner."

D'Artagnan hissed as Aramis made the first stitch. Porthos grabbed his ankle and Athos his hand, not to hold him, but to ground him.

"You should have seen when we found them. One pissed his pants out of fear, and all Athos said was hello. I kid you not, lad."

"That is because they detained d'Artagnan from practicing his sword work."

"Aramis was the one who first noticed you were missing."

"That is because when d'Artagnan is sent out on an errand he does so in half of the allotted time, making his fellow musketeers seem lazy."

"You do have a tendency to dawdle."

They continued with the distracting banter that was punctuated by a huff of laughter, a gasp or moan from d'Artagnan, but he refused to submit to his exhaustion.

Porthos looked over at Aramis, they had placed d'Artagnan uncomfortably on his side because he had protested laying on his stomach. "Lad, we will stay with you. This isn't a dream. You're here with us."

"I was in the dark," d'Artagnan started haltingly. "I'll believe you in the morning."

Stitched, cleaned and weary they brought d'Artagnan to his room and placed him in his bed. The looked out towards the window, waiting for the break of dawn and with that d'Artagnan went to sleep. "Thank you."

When he woke in the night after a full day of sleep, Porthos, Aramis and Athos were waiting for him with more candles than were usual in his room.