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Tag for S1E4

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Aramis hadn't noticed when his three friends had arrived at the musketeer graveyard, but he quietly let them lead him away from it. He wasn't surprised when they ushered him to his room, but when Porthos reached over and plucked the hat off his head and reached for the tie on his cloak, Aramis suddenly grew angry.

"I needed your help yesterday and this morning!" he hissed.

Porthos pulled his hands away. "I know," he meekly said.

Athos was silent, and d'Artagnan looked like he had no idea what to do.

"We're supposed to be brothers," Aramis said. "I needed to know the truth of what happened in Savoy, but your loyalty to the captain was so blind that you left me to find out alone!" He ran a hand through his dripping hair and turned around, walking a few steps before turning back. "And Marsac was right! Even though the circumstances weren't quite what we thought, he was right!"

Porthos opened his mouth to speak, but Athos squeezed his arm, to stop him.

"And then..." Aramis said. His breath hitched and he almost couldn't say the rest. "I killed him. He was my closest friend for years before you, and I killed him!"

The others waited, but Aramis said no more, obviously fighting to compose himself.

"He gave you no choice," Athos said.

"You saved the captain," Porthos told him.

"The two of you alone know went I went through after Savoy," Aramis said. "I expected you to be by my side through this, to help me discover the truth." He paused again. "But there was no 'all for one'; you wanted no part of it! I feel...betrayed." The last word was a whisper.

"We are not the only ones who betrayed you," Athos said.

Those words were like a dagger in Aramis' stomach, and the strength seemed to leave his limbs. Someone was suddenly grasping his arms, and it took him a few seconds to realize that it was Athos.

"Marsac is the one who betrayed you," Athos vehemently said. "He left you to die in that forest, and then he came back to use you in his plot for revenge!"

Aramis closed his eyes and lowered his head, not even realizing that he was suddenly sitting on his bed.

"Treville told us what happened," Athos continued, squeezing his arms. "Marsac wanted to die; he came here to die!"

Tears filled Aramis' eyes.

"But he planned to take Treville with him," Athos said. "He planned a murder-suicide; that's why he knocked you out first, to keep you from interfering. You stopped him from killing the captain, but Marsac was dead anyway, whether you shot him or not!"

Aramis knew that he was right, but he couldn't speak as he tried to hold in his emotions.

Arms were suddenly around Aramis, holding him tightly. "Let it out," Porthos said. "You'll feel better."

Aramis closed his eyes, unable to stop the tears from falling; tears for losing his friend, tears for the twenty musketeers who'd lost their lives in Savoy, and tears for Treville: for carrying the burden of his accidental part in the incident.

It took a few minutes for Aramis to realize that someone was compassionately rubbing his back. All three of his friends had their hands on him, it appeared.

"There's no shame in mourning," said d'Artagnan.

Aramis suddenly felt guilty for yelling at them. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"No," said Athos. "You have no cause to apologize. We were wrong; we let our hatred for Marsac cloud our judgment, resulting in more harm to you."

"I dreamed about throttling him," Porthos suddenly said. "So many times, over the years." He sighed and tightened his arms around Aramis. "I'm so sorry for not being there. I was a fool to even let you be alone with him after what he did to you five years ago!"

Aramis sighed, shifting his head and sniffing when his nose began to run.

A handkerchief appeared before his face, and he pulled back from Porthos far enough to take it and blow his nose.

"This won't happen again, Aramis," Porthos told him. "We will never let you handle somethin' like this alone ever again, do you hear me?"

Aramis wiped his eyes and nodded.

"Look at me," said Porthos, giving him a shake. "I'm serious. I'll never forgive myself for this. We should've been there."

Aramis looked at him and sighed again, clearing his throat. "I believe you." He looked up, realizing that d'Artagnan was the one with the hand on his back. "Nothing is your fault," he said, sensing that their young friend felt awkward about his part in the events. "You hardly even knew anything about it."

D'Artagnan nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

Aramis looked at Athos, seeing the emotion in his eyes that were hidden to everyone in the world except for the three of them and Treville. He remembered Athos accepting the 'betrayed' description, and said to him, "I forgive you."

That was exactly what Athos needed to hear, and some of the turmoil left his eyes.

"Both of you," Aramis said, looking at Porthos.

Porthos nodded, though he still looked guilty himself.

A cup touched his hand and Aramis took it from Athos, finding wine inside. It was a huge goblet filled to the brim and he drank the entire cup in one go, hoping for the alcohol's effects to ease his mind.

The others didn't expect him to do that, and Porthos sat beside him and grabbed his chin. "Concussion?" he asked, studying the bruising around Aramis' left eye.

"No," was the answer.

"Are you sure?" Porthos asked, knowing how Aramis always downplayed his injuries.

"Yes," Aramis told him, as the alcohol rushed through his bloodstream and made him lightheaded.

Porthos saw nothing amiss with the size of his friend's pupils, so he stood and again reached over to undo the ties of his friend's wet cloak.

A few minutes later, Aramis was reclined on his bed, his brain feeling slightly numbed by the alcohol. "I won't be able to sleep," he told them.

"Try," said d'Artagnan, sad to see him suffering so.

Aramis closed his eyes, but reopened them when he heard a noise. He was surprised to see that Porthos had taken the Bible off his nightstand.

A few seconds later, Porthos started to read.

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.

He leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul.

He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.

Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou prepareth a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.

Thou anointest my head with oil.

My cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the courts of the Lord forever."*

Porthos looked up from the page, and found Aramis sound asleep.

THE END

*Psalm 23 KJV