2 Weeks Later

Aramis hesitated on his way back into the Garrison. Marie had asked him to stay longer. With Antonie dead, Aramis felt guilty about leaving her but he knew Marie was fine on her own. He had done what he could to help his old home but now he had to return to his home. His injury was almost healed now and only the occasional twinge when he moved wrong reminded Aramis of it. Well, that and the memories.

After the other musketeers had left, Aramis had re-entered the village, against the better thoughts of the others. Aramis hadn't known what he had expected to gain from it, going into the village. Walking around he had seen the place he had called home destroyed but it was when he saw the body of his Father that Aramis felt emotion.

The man had abused and killed his Mother. Destroyed both his childhood homes. And still Aramis mourned him. It was a strange thing to see ones Father dead. Emotions that varied from sadness to indifference. Aramis didn't know which was worse. To feel sorry for the man or to feel nothing.

Aramis knew it had been Athos who had killed the man. D'artagnan had been with Marie and Porthos with him. And Aramis knew no one else who could have done that. If the man had been more of a Father then perhaps Aramis would have felt anger towards Athos at killing the man but as it was all he could feel was grateful. However cruel it sounded.

He had been hovering at the front of the garrison for longer than he'd planned, though he was thankful his friends had decided to leave him be. When he walked to the garrison, Porthos greeted him with a clap on the shoulder.

No words passed between the friends and Aramis was glad that they knew him well enough to know he didn't want to talk about the events that had transpired. "Marie?" D'artagnan asked as Aramis sat at the table.

Athos handed him a drink and Aramis took a swig before answering. "As well as she can be."

D'artagnan might have said more but Porthos put a hand on the younger boys shoulder, silencing him. "How's your side?" Athos asked, giving Aramis a look that he always gave any of them when they were injured.

"Better." It was a short answer but Aramis wasn't in the mood for talk.

Athos nodded his head, sharing a look with Porthos and D'artagnan. It seemed to be a confirmation of a possible conversation from earlier. "If you need to talk about anything that happened, where here." Porthos stated.

Aramis said nothing in answer, unsure of how to proceed. "But if you don't want to we won't push you either." Athos reassured Aramis, seeing the look that crossed Aramis' eyes.

"Thank you." Aramis answered. "But there's nothing more to say."

"How 'bout a drink then?" Porthos said, a smile breaking across his face.

And like that the conversation drifted away from topics that where better left buried. Aramis said nothing as the four of them made their way to the tavern close to the garrison.

None of them commented on Aramis' silence as they drank, even Athos seemed to be in a better mood than usual. The company was enough for Aramis though, the comfort of knowing his friends where there if he wanted to talk. They were the family he had always wished for.

I know sappy sappy ending but I'm in a sappy mood. As always please review and thank you for reviewing, reading, favouring, following etc. :)