A/N: Thank you for the reviews, everyone! I hope you like the new chapter - it's short as well, as is the next, but the last chapter got away from me a bit so it's a lot longer. I'd love to know what you think and thank you for reading!

Chapter 2

'And I got this one in a tavern brawl.'

'Fascinating,' grunted d'Artagnan, doing his best to relax as Aramis cut away his trouser leg, revealing the ugly wound beneath.

'Aramis here sewed me right up though,' continued Porthos, rolling his shirt sleeve back down. 'Quick as a- damn, you're bleeding like a stuck pig! Does it hurt?'

'You are not helping, Porthos,' commented Aramis as he held up a short stick. 'Here. You will want to bite down on this.'

'Why would I ... oh, you mean him.'

D'Artagnan held up a hand just before Aramis placed the stick between his teeth. 'Wait. How badly will this hurt?'

'Considering that I am about to sear a deep hole in your leg closed with a knife blade that Athos is kindly heating up for us over a campfire, I would say rather a lot. Anything else?'

D'Artagnan swallowed and shook his head, lowering his hand back down and taking a grip that was nothing so much as desperate on the long grass beneath him. 'Never mind.'

'Good.' Wedging the stick firmly between d'Artagnan's teeth, Aramis glanced right and left. 'You've got him?'

Athos nodded silently and handed him the knife before taking a good grip on d'Artagnan's legs. Porthos, who was leaning over his arms, grinned. 'Ready and waiting.'

'You really do enjoy this type of thing far too much,' Aramis pointed out, pressing the blade down deftly and ignoring the muffled scream of pain as d'Artagnan seized below them, his back arching as he twisted and writhed, trying to escape the unforgiving hold they each had.

'What can I say? I enjoy seeing you butcher someone besides me for once.'

Satisfied that the wound was sealed, Aramis removed the blade and examined his work carefully before looking up. 'There now, that wasn't so bad, was it, d'Artagnan? D'Artagnan?'

Porthos shook his head. 'Now that's just embarrassing,'

Aramis reached for his pack and began picking through it. 'Now, Porthos, you're not to tease him about this. You're just as bad.'

'I've not once fainted!'

'That's because we always knock you out beforehand,' stated Athos, speaking for the first time as Aramis began wrapping d'Artagnan's leg with clean bandages.

'Oh. Well, at least I've never stuck myself with my own knife, not like he just did!'

'What of that time in Marseille?'

'I was drunk!'

'And you cried like a baby before you sobered up, so you will leave him alone.' Athos paused. 'Besides, he will be mocked enough by Aramis and I.'

Porthos grinned and gave the unconscious d'Artagnan a quick pat on the chest before standing up and stretching, working the kinks out of his back. 'That's all I ask.'