"d'Artagnan..." Athos breathed.

The trio all held their breaths in shock at the sight of their youngest. They'd thought him dead and now, to see him alive and well, was a surprise. Even more so was the fact that he was with Rochefort and the Red Guard, willingly.

D'Artagnan watched the three men in front of him with something akin to confusion. These were the men from his dreams, the ones who were always taking care of him. He'd thought they were figments of his imagination, ones that his mind made up to make him feel safe. And now, here they were sitting in front of him. He didn't know what to do.

Rochefort smirked at the looks on the Inseparables' faces. He'd enjoyed seeing the desolate looks that had been on their faces when they'd thought their young brother dead, but he was gonna enjoy this even more. To have them know that he was alive, but they couldn't touch him...priceless.

Aramis leaned into Porthos, shock making him wobbly in his seat. d'Artagnan was here, and he was alive! That was most joyous. But the look he was wearing suggested that he was confused about who they were. What was going on?

Porthos leaned back into Aramis at the same time he was leaning into him, holding each other up. His little brother is here, alive. How was that possible? Granted they'd never found his body, and never found evidence of his death, but still. He would've shown up. At least he'd thought so. Now though, he wasn't sure. Here he was with their enemy, the one who'd caused them so much grief in the past months, looking for all the world like he was comfortable with him and looking at them like they were strangers. What was going on?

Athos took a moment to school his expression into a blank mask before speaking. While he was shocked and hurt that the Gascon had let them believe he was dead, there had to be a good explanation. Didn't there? He wouldn't just up and leave the Musketeers, up and leave them, without a good reason. Was Rochefort threatening him? If so, what did he have over the young man? Athos minutely shook his head, trying to clear it of the depressing thoughts. Right now d'Artagnan was alive and well, and that was all that mattered.

d'Artagnan turned to his brother, catching the smirk before it disappeared. What was his brother thinking? d'Artagnan turned back to the three men, wondering what they were thinking. Their expressions suggested joy, and also hurt and bewilderment. Why was that?

"I know you." d'Artagnan said quietly, hoping to get some clue as to why from the three. He must've met them at some point before losing his memories. That was the only explanation.

The trio jerked, looking sharply up at their young friend. What? Of course he knew them, they were his family. He'd been working with them for over a year now. What the hell?

Aramis studied the young man in front of them carefully. First he'd looked confused, and now he's saying he knows them like he's not sure how. Aramis watched him for another moment before it clicked. He didn't remember. That was the only thing that made sense. He didn't remember them.

Rochefort looked at the former Musketeer beside him, startled. He'd never said he remembered anything, that he knew anything about his former life. Was he questioning the whole ruse? Did he know about Rochefort's deceit? The Red Guard internally berated himself. Of course he didn't, he would've said something. But he would have to keep a closer eye on the Gascon in the future.

"You are our brother, d'Artagnan, and a Musketeer. You've been missing for a little over a month now, and we have been searching desperately for you." Porthos replied, a part of him hoping that his words would jog the young man's memory, having figured out the same thing as Aramis. He watched his little brother closely, looking for any sign of recognition.

"That's impossible. My brother is Captain of the Red Guard, and you're Musketeers. You can't be my brothers." d'Artagnan said, even though he was starting to question everything he'd been told, and the trio could tell that with his tone. Why would he feel safe with these men when he didn't feel even remotely close to that with his brother? This was all so confusing.

Athos watched the fury that was climbing on Rochefort's face, even if the newly found Gascon didn't. What was his end game? Why was he doing all this? What could he possibly gain, besides more of their hatred? They were already at odds with each other before, this would make them even more so. He turned his gaze back to the young man in front of him, standing from his chair, surprising the two still seated.

d'Artagnan watched warily as the older of the Musketeers stood, taking a step in his direction. He slid back an inch, wanting to move away, but feeling as if he should stay. It was like two sides of him were warring against each other, confusing him greatly. What was he supposed to do? These men were practically enemies of his brother and the people he just signed up with. And yet, when he looked at them, he didn't see enemies; he saw family and love and people who would always be there for him. He could almost see himself with them, sparring or riding horses. What was he supposed to do?

Athos slid another step towards d'Artagnan, just now realizing that everyone in the tavern was watching them, including all the other Red Guards here. Should he keep pressing this now, or should they let d'Artagnan leave with Rochefort and find him later? Athos' heart said press this now, make d'Artagnan believe them, believe that they were his brothers and that they were here for him. But his brain was telling him to slow down, not make things harder than they already are. d'Artagnan didn't know them. He might get these strange feeling around them, but he didn't know them. They needed to earn his trust back, not force it and not confront him without learning more about the situation. But now that they knew he was alive, there was gonna be no stopping them.

Athos stopped moving forward and just stood there in front of the young man. Tomorrow, they would start to figure this out. Right now, he was gonna enjoy just seeing his baby brother again.

Rochefort cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had fallen over the tavern. He needed to get d'Artagnan out of here before he lost anymore of his control over him. He already had enough damage control to take care of.

"d'Artagnan, we need to leave. Now." Rochefort pulled the Gascon away from the table that the Musketeers were at towards the door on the opposite side of the building. They needed to get out of here.

Feeling himself being pulled d'Artagnan turned away from the trio. But once at the door he sent one last almost longing look in their direction, hoping it wouldn't get noticed by his brother before disappearing into the night.