A/N: Here is the last chapter. There is a short epilogue to finish out the frame and d'Artagnan's question. After Treville and Porthos' ultimatums, Athos and Aramis have a lot to think about. Left alone to think, the two men find a bond in their melancholy.

Please read, relax, and enjoy.

Decisions

Back in the room, Athos and Aramis laid in bed, quiet, thinking. Aramis felt it was all a little unfair. He didn't ask for any of this, didn't want to be part of a massacre, the lone survivor. He didn't feel a bit like he used to. Maybe it would be best for the regiment, for Treville and Porthos to just leave. He couldn't take care of Porthos when he was wounded, had fallen ill himself. He was a mess, not sleeping, eating, socializing. He was barely living. He should've died back there in Savoy and saved everyone the worry.

"You shouldn't leave," Athos said. He'd pulled himself up in bed to sit against the wall. When Aramis looked up at him, he truly looked miserable, pale and pained. But Athos was truthful in his words.

"I've heard all about you from the regiment. You're the best soldier there and not just because you're an excellent marksman. Second-in-command at such a young age is difficult to attain. A mark of not just a good soldier, but an excellent leader. The regiment would suffer a big loss in losing you."

Aramis started to roll away from him.

"I'm not diminishing Savoy." Athos put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving. "It's not just that. I know you can't see it, but you are improving."

Aramis huffed.

"It's hard to see it from the inside, trust me on that one. I've been watching and you're better when you're around Porthos. More steady, sure of things."

He shrugged.

"It means you can get better. Maybe not who you were before, but you will get better. Maybe you just need to be around people instead of keeping to yourself."

He raised his eyebrows.

Athos laughed slightly.

"I know," he said, "rather hypocritical of me. Thomas always said I was better at giving advice than receiving it."

Aramis watched Athos as he fiddled with the bedclothes.

"I'm not telling you everything, not right now. It's too new, too fresh. You understand, I know. But Thomas was my brother. He died. So did my wife, both around the same time. It was rather sudden. I wasn't like this before. I was… a different man,… more likable."

Aramis lifted a hand to gently rub Athos' shoulder as the man struggled with his emotions.

"I'd say before this both of us were more likable than we are now."

Aramis gave a slight shrug.

"Treville and Porthos are saints to put up with us."

Aramis nodded readily.

"I don't want to be like this," Athos said quietly after a long pause. "But I don't know how else to be, not right now."

Aramis' hand found his own and squeezed it slightly. Athos looked over to see the man had tears in his eyes.

"You know if we leave the Musketeers, neither of us will last long."

Aramis nodded and squeezed his hand again. The tears looked ready to fall.

"Shall we make a deal then?"

Aramis gave him a curious look.

"We stick with the Musketeers, do what we have to pull ourselves out of this melancholy, and accept ourselves for the men we are, imperfect, but true to ourselves and our brothers."

Aramis looked at him apprehensively.

"I know it sounds like a tall order right now, but we'll get there, together. You, me, and Porthos. One day at a time, with honesty at the forefront."

Aramis hesitated a moment before giving a hearty nod.

"Good. I'm beginning to like you. Didn't want to lose you." Athos found it wasn't so difficult as he thought to say those words to Aramis.

Aramis was still silent, but he gave Athos' hand another squeeze and rolled towards him to rest close by his legs.

"Get some sleep, Aramis." Athos carded a hand through the younger man's unruly hair.

Aramis shook his head.

"Yes, you'll dream, have nightmares, but I'll be here. One of us will always be here to remind you of where you are. Together, like brothers." He paused at that. He didn't want to erase the link he had with Thomas, but he knew new bonds had to be formed if he was ever going to survive.

The man was tense and determined to keep himself awake with his eyes wide open. But the more Athos ran his hands through his hair, the more Aramis started to lose himself to the sleep that he fought so hard to keep away. It was inevitable that he would fall asleep, Athos knew. The only real sleep he'd gotten was when he'd been so ill with the fever it couldn't really count as sleep. Getting him to sleep was the first step. He could handle anything with a good bit of sleep. Thomas had always been cranky and difficult when he'd not slept well. After a midmorning nap, he was more himself.

When Porthos returned, the two men were dozing. Athos was sitting up with a hand tangled in Aramis' hair. Aramis was sleeping mostly soundly. He wasn't sure how long they'd been asleep, but he was loathed to wake them, especially Aramis as the man needed what uninterrupted sleep he could get. So, he moved carefully around the room, eventually settling at the table to rest.

The silence lasted a bit longer until Aramis started to grow restless and muttering in a mixture of French and Spanish. It was the usual, from what Porthos could understand. He was stuck back in Savoy, calling out for Marsac and trying to save each of the twenty dead soldiers, begging for help that never arrived. Porthos figured that some of them must've been alive, dying slowly from their wounds as Aramis worked frantically even as he was injured himself. When he'd arrived at the site with Treville, it was truly horrific. The men had been just short of butchered, with blood pooled frozen under their cold bodies. Aramis had been covered past his elbows in blood with splatters and large frozen splotches decorating his shirt. He'd been with them for days and was passed out next to a body that he'd apparently been trying to save until his own energies gave out on him. Getting him to leave took effort, but once he was gone from the massacre, he shut down completely.

As the mutterings from Aramis grew louder, Athos woke slightly and started carding his hand through the man's hair again, talking to him quietly.

"I'm here, Aramis. You're safe. Remember where you are. We're in a small village. There's not much here except farmers and children, to be honest. It's quiet. You're safe."
Porthos listened as Athos kept describing the village, talking about the people, the weather. Anything, it seemed that came to mind. He had to smile at the sight. He'd known that there was a different side to Athos but seeing it was truly something. It made him really feel that there was hope for the two of them.

When Aramis was quiet, Porthos finally when over to sit in the chair next to them.

"That was impressive, Athos," he said.

"Thomas had nightmares and would refuse anyone's comfort but mine," Athos said simply. He kept up the massaging of his hand in Aramis' hair.

Porthos nodded. He didn't know who Thomas was. Perhaps a brother, but he was glad that Athos had opened up a little.

"How're you feeling," Porthos asked after a pause,

"Better. Head still hurts and I'm not looking to eat anytime soon, but I've felt worse."

"Good. It was pretty bad last night."

"I apologize for that. I get lost in my own thoughts and last night was a bad night."

"You know you could come to us about it."

"Actually, we've made a deal. Isn't that right, Aramis? I know you're not really asleep."

Sure enough, the marksman was awake. He opened his eyes slowly and, for the first time, Porthos didn't see Savoy haunting him. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that it was gone, that they were through the low point, but it was a relief to see the man unburdened by that massacre even for a moment.

"You two have made a deal?" This he had to hear about.

"Yes, we're staying with the regiment. We wouldn't last outside of it for long. We've been rather terrible comrades, friends, but we're going to try to do better. It's not going to be easy and we both know we can't do it alone."

"Musketeers don't leave each other," Porthos said.

"We've been remiss in that."

"All... for one," Aramis began, his voice rough with disuse, "one for all." He still had his hand on Athos'.

"Yes," Porthos agreed, putting his hand on top of Aramis', giving both a squeeze. "All for one.

"One for all," Athos and Aramis said.

A brief note about a couple of Athos' comments. I imagine that Aramis would've attained second-in-command stand, if not officially, by default for having been in the regiment since the start and because he is a natural leader. However, Savoy means he has to give it up, either by choice or force.

I know that when d'Artagnan asks the others what's bothering Athos, they have no clue. I find this hard to believe that there would have been some mild hints over five years. I expect more Aramis respects Athos' privacy and chooses not to reveal anything to d'Artagnan.