Thanks for the reviews/follows and faves, I'm so glad people are taking to this story quickly, its very motivational to say the least!

Here's the much deserved next chapter!

Mind unravelling at the sight of his brothers' blood pooling out beneath him on the ground, limbs frozen in place as he continued to watch Athos beg and plead Porthos to stay awake, Aramis found himself abruptly snapping to attention as D'artagnans pained cry demanded he turn around.

Following the plea without a second thought, Aramis quickly turned and was confronted with the sight of a second charging assailant, his deadly quiet run and black eyes of death forcing adrenaline through his frozen veins and causing him to react automatically.

Un-holstering his pistol from its holster, Aramis slowly aimed and fired, drilling the man between the eyes and watching coldly as his head snapped back, his feet flying forward in momentum to slam him back into the ground lying upwards, unseeing.

Watching the dead man with disdain a moment longer with even deader eyes, Aramis slowly returned his shattered mind to the spectacle of his fatally injured brother, glancing sideways as D'artagnan arrived on the scene, an expression of relief and concern.

He was too young to be seeing this, Aramis pondered in his state of detachment, but he could not follow through with sympathetic actions. He would see this sooner or later if he was to become a musketeer he thought darkly.

"Aramis!" Athos panted from below him, demanding his attention, "Help him, please!" he begged, forcing him to kneel by an unmoving Porthos.

Aramis, turned Porthos over onto his side, his medical mind replacing the mind of the traumatized soldier. Eyeing the seeping, bloody gash on Porthos' midsection Aramis knew he could not help.

There was too much blood, too big a hole. He didn't have enough thread for this, despite the fact that what little medical supplies he carried would not hold it closed anyway.

Aramis shook his head minutely, hands in his laps as Athos continued to pant heavily and look at him in deep concern over their brothers livelihood.

"I can't" Aramis reported brokenly.

Thinking it was a failing of confidence, Athos gripped his brothers' shoulder fiercely, "Yes, you can!" he encouraged, tone serious but soft, he didn't want to scare Aramis.

Aramis shook his head adamantly, "No, I cant!" he repeated, a sob breaking from his body as tears began to fall and wash away some of the bloody flecks on his face.

"Aramis" Athos ground out, shaking the mans arms and forcing him to meet his confident gaze, "You must try, brother. You must" he pleaded again, trying to keep his voice strong.

Aramis met the teary gaze with his own for a few sparse seconds before looking back at Porthos, taking a shaky breath before leaning forwards, fingers delicately probing at the wound.

Satisfied that he had got Aramis back on track for the time being, Athos left his faith with his man and rose to his feet, wiping his bloodied hands against his breeches while he took in D'artagnans' haggard presence and the silhouettes of the few remaining attackers searching a few feet away.

Perhaps they have given up. Perhaps they would rather cut their losses Athos pondered, trying to reason as to why no further men seemed willing to exit into the clearing where they were huddled out in the open, now basically defenceless against the final blow they could present.

Whatever the reason, they should take this moment to their advantage -and with the governor in tow, take what remaining horses stood around grazing idly and find the nearest establishment in which they could recover their strength and wits.

He wouldn't even consider the possibility that Porthos may not make it that far through his plan.

He would live. Dying wasn't an option.

"D'artagnan, go and fetch the horses and the governor, meet us back here as soon as you can" Athos instructed, letting the soldier within take over.

Casting a final worried glance to his fallen brother, D'artagnan nodded and took off obediently while Athos continued to watch over the scene.

No more of his brothers would suffer at the hands of others tonight. If the assailants even dared approach it would be over his dead body that they inflict any harm.

Moments that felt more like days passed by before D'artagnan finally returned, five horses in tow, a green looking governor stumbling along beside them.

Turning back to Aramis, Athos knelt down beside the trembling medic and placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, staying his bloodied hands from his work on Porthos' wound and forcing his attention back to the present.

"We need to get him onto a horse and ride out of here" Athos ordered steadily, "Is he safe to move?" he questioned.

Aramis looked over, face ashen, eyes filled with misery and anguish but fortunate enough to hold the flame of recognition in their pits.

Nodding mutely, Athos offered a quiet, "Good" in return and raised back to his feet while Aramis tried to wrap the wound with his now shredded cloak.

"Place the governor on the horse and escort him back to Paris" Athos commanded D'artagnan, receiving a stricken look from the boy.

Before he could retort, Athos cut him off, "Now" he demanded harshly, leaving no room for debate.

He didn't like asserting his authority over his comrades and often treated them as equals but when situation became dire and he found his comrades losing their wits, he found it the most productive to pull rank and make them follow orders rather than requests.

Forced to obey, D'artagnan nodded, holding Athos' gaze with one of misery and concern for his brothers, hesitant to leave should it be the last time he sees Porthos alive.

Athos acknowledged his protégés turmoil in a single glance and placed a reassuring, friendly hand on his slumped shoulders.

"He will be fine. I will make sure of it" he promised, then softly ushered him away with a slight push, "Now you must go."

D'artagnan nodded, a single tear sliding down his cheek before finally, he turned from the scene and ushered the governor onto his horse, hopped up behind him and set off at a swift gallop back into the smoke and fog, disappearing from his sight.

Gods speed D'artagnan were Athos' final thoughts before he grudgingly returned his attention to the bloody scene of Aramis and Porthos, helping his remaining friend sit Porthos up and carry him to his horse.

Once mounted behind his friend to keep him from falling, Athos nudged his skittish horse into a fast canter, its ears pricked and nostrils snorting at both the combined weight and fear over the smell of freshly spilt blood.

Aramis trailed behind silently on his own horse, leading the rider less mount behind him at a brisk pace.

He was trying his best to keep his eyes on their surroundings to watch his brothers backs, but his hands were thick and wet with his brothers blood and slid up and down on the reigns, reminding his mind off to darker thoughts and dragging his attention to their forms ahead.

God be with us Aramis prayed.

So I hope that wasn't too dark!…who am I kidding, that was awful!

I always wanted to show how crucial Porthos is to the others -he's always there, loving, loyal, fierce… but never really the lime light for his efforts.

So how do I get him his moment of stardom? I stab him of course….oh, im so cruel, but it did work! ;)

Please leave a review to let me know what you thought!