Hey ya'll! Hope you enjoy my longest chapter yet!

The next morning brought fear and anticipation to four Musketeers. Today was the day they put their plan of catching Rochefort into action. All of them were looking forward to seeing him hung for everything he's done, from before and now.

Athos stood at the window of his room which overlooked the streets as the sun slowly rose, casting a soft light on everything. To the untrained eye he looked as stoic as ever before but to those who knew him, as Aramis did, you could see the fear hidden in the depths of his eyes casting a shadow on his countenance.

Aramis slowly rose from his spot on the floor and silently made his way towards his friend. Athos shifted slightly to the side to make room for the Spaniard when he sensed him coming closer.

There was a few moments of silence that passed between them. It wasn't uncomfortable or heavy, just the companionable silence that came with being good friends, or in their case, brothers.

One might find it strange that four grown men would rely on one another so much, but to them...it was natural. When you trusted someone with your life on a daily basis it formed a bond that couldn't be broken. Strained yes, but never broken. And Aramis had never been more grateful of that fact.

He knew that things had been strained between everyone before all this happened. And to be honest, a lot of that was his fault. Only Athos knew of his relationship with the Queen, and he looked down on it. Aramis was afraid to tell the others for fear of their reactions. So, he pushed them away. And then the whole thing with Porthos and his father. d'Artagnan and Constance, Athos and Milady. Everything became so complicated and time consuming that they started snapping at each other for no reason. And they hadn't had time to fix things between each other before d'Artagnan lost his memory. Now, he couldn't even remember the problem to fix. Aramis' heart ached for the relationship and trust lost between the brothers, but especially him and d'Artagnan. At least he still had the chance to fix things between him and Athos and Porthos but with the Gascon...unless his memory returned all that was lost was never to be saved.

Athos could feel the tension radiating off of Aramis in waves and knew exactly what he was thinking. It was those same thoughts that had him up earlier than ever. He too had the same dilemma. When had everything gone so wrong that it caused this? Sure, things had been harder between them recently, but everyone goes through periods like that. But thinking about it...It probably was because they stopped talking to each other. Instead, they snapped and snarled and insulted. Every statement, every jab was meant to hurt. If only they'd pulled their heads out of their behinds sooner, maybe they could have prevented this. If they had fixed things like they were supposed to then d'Artagnan wouldn't have gone out alone that day. He would have had his brothers by his side. Instead, they were here being spiteful and sulking, coming up with all the reasons how their brothers had wronged them. Figures it took losing one to show them how wrong they were. And then they got him back...just not whole.

d'Artagnan coming back the way he was put things into perspective for the trio. It showed them how wrong everything was between them. Only, they hadn't done anything about it. Now, they could only hope it wouldn't be too late.

Athos turned towards Aramis, opening his mouth to say something, but the Spaniard just shushed him and leaned into his side slightly.

"Shh...I know. Me too. There's no need to say anything."Aramis knocked his head softly into Athos' shoulder.

Athos nodded, grateful that he didn't have to say anything. How could he express how sorry he was and how much he loved his brothers with just words?

Porthos silently willed the tears in his eyes away from his spot on the bed as d'Artagnan's pillow. The young man was draped across him, his torso covering half of Porthos' and his arm flung out across the other half.

He knew what Athos and Aramis were talking about and wished he could make his own apologies to his brothers. They all knew there was a big chance that one or more of them would die today...but it was the only plan they had. They had to stop Rochefort before he hurt anyone else, no matter the cost to them. It was their duty to protect the King, Queen and France. What other choice did they have?

Porthos carefully shifted his little brother off of him before slowly standing and making his way across the room towards his other brothers. He put a hand on each of their shoulders.

"I'm sorry also. No matter what happens t'day, I hope you know how much I care for you all. Now come, let's go catch us a Rochefort." He clapped the shoulders he'd grabbed lightly, slipping into his clothes from the chair they'd been draped over.

His words spurred the other two into action. They pulled on their own clothes and Aramis left, claiming he was going to get them something to eat before the day really began. Athos walked over to the bed that held the young Gascon, who hadn't woken at their voices or Porthos moving him. He reached out a hand, and while the Gascon was still in deep sleep he gently ran his fingers through the young man's dark hair. He didn't know if he'd be able to take this pleasure again so decided that now would be a good time.

Porthos grinned from his spot behind the older man at the sight of the comforting gesture being displayed. Their leader never showed his softer side unless one of them was hurt. Then and only then, did you see strong emotion. You saw glimpses of it in everyday life in his small smiles or claps on the back or the pride in his eyes when they did something great. He might be stoic but he showed his love in his own ways and they'd learned to read and understand, this was just one of those obvious moments.

Athos stopped moving his hand through his protoge's hair and moved it to his shoulder instead. He gently shook the younger man in an attempt to wake him.

"d'Artagnan, lad, it's time to wake. We have a long day ahead of us."

A groan escaped the young man's mouth when he moved slightly. He blinked his eyes a few times until Athos found himself looking into the Gadcon's expressive dark orbs.

"There we go. You must rise if you are to meet Rochefort at the specified time."

d'Artagnan groaned at his mentor's reminder of what his day was going to hold. In the oblivion of sleep he'd forgotten that today he was going to confront his...enemy. That today might be the day that he dies. And to be honest, he'd be okay if that came to fruition. He'd accepted his fate when they'd come up with this plan. It helps that he felt he had no one to fight to live for. He had found comfort with these three men, but without his memories...he was just an empty shell to them. So he'd made the decision that if it came down to it he'd give his life to save these men instead of allowing them to sacrifice themselves for him. They had people to live for even if he's gone. There was or reason for him to tell them that though, so he kept it to himself.

Athos would have smiled at the Gascon's groan of distaste had he not known the reason behind it. He was about to send his little brother into the Lion's Den. Hopefully, if things start to go awry, as they all expected it would, they'd be there to help him. The thought of what should happen if they were to fail left a bitter taste in his mouth and had his stomach churning.

He knew this was his plan, but he'd hoped that his brothers would have come up with a better one and talked him out of this one. Only, they couldn't and it seemed like this was the only option. And there were so many ways it could go wrong...

Athos prayed to a God he hadn't believed in for years that he'd protect them all in this coming battle. He prayed he wouldn't lose another brother. If he did, he knew he'd never recover from the loss. To some that might seem disturbing but he didn't care. He already lost one brother to a killer and it nearly killed him. These men had become the family he'd lost all those years ago. They'd wormed their way past the defenses that surrounded his heart. First Aramis and Porthos and then d'Artagnan. But it was the youngest of them that he'd really connected with.

At first he'd been annoyed, maybe even scared to have a protégé, especially one as self-sacrificing and innocent. d'Artagnan might be prideful ad self assured but even if he came across as cocky, those who knew him even a little could tell he wasn't. The pride was a Gascon thing but everything else was either a false front or a well earned right.

After months of training and working with the boy Athos began to notice a pattern. d'Artagnan's self-sacrificing nature came from believing himself not worthy of someone being hurt protecting him, even if it was just a scratch or bruise. After more study on all the Inseparables' part- with Aramis and Porthos seeing what Athos said- they'd slowly worked on helping show the Gascon that it was okay if someone cared enough to sacrifice to save you. It wasn't until it clicked with the Gascon that they weren't going anywhere and that they'd give anything to protect each other- as he would do for each of them-and that that included him that he really started to trusting them. Over time his confidence grew and the self-sacrificing subdued. It didn't diminish completely, as they still had to occasionally have the same talk with him, but everything worked better and the trio realized that they cared as much for their forth as they did for each other.

Athos was brought out of his musing by the said young man returning to the bed to pull on his boots, fully clothed and Aramis returning with breakfast. The smell of freshly baked bread made him realize that he was more hungry than he thought he could be, considering what the day was going to hold for them. The grin of appreciation on Porthos' face suggested that his friend had thought the same thing. With a light hand he gently guided their youngest to the table to eat with them after catching the look of hesitation.

When Aramis had come through the door he'd caught the serious expressions on his friends faces and knew exactly what they were thinking.

After the semi start to fixing things between the three of them this morning his thoughts had turned to how to fix things with d'Artagnan, even without his memories. He'd thought about it the whole walk to and from the bakery and came to only one conclusion. Treat him like they normally would. Maybe he wouldn't remember how they used to treat him before the whole mess but maybe he'd feel comfort from it. There was no way to know and one thing was for sure; he wasn't letting any of them go out on this dangerous mission without clearing the air. With that thought in mind, the Spaniard cleared his throat and started speaking.

"I know that this might not be the best time to do this, but I couldn't let us go out on this mission that could potentially kill one or more of us without at least saying something to help fix what went wrong between us." Aramis took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on the most important people in his life next to his son.

"I'm sorry." Aramis trembled out. "I know that my secrets and distance caused some of the strife and extenuating circumstances created more to pile on to it. While I can't tell you why I was that way, as much as I dearly wish to, I hope you know that I care about you all very much and wish with everything I have that things could go back to when we trusted each other." Done with his spiel, Aramis leaned back in his chair tiredly even though his heart felt lighter than it had in a long time.

"My turn with the whole confession thing." Porthos leaned forward on his elbows.

"With finding out about my father and knowing that Athos and Aramis were keeping secrets I turned cold and distanced. I was pretty much hurting you all because I was hurting myself and I'm sorry for that." Porthos dropped his head but his shoulders slumped in relief.

Athos' eyes darted between his friends. He drew in a breath and knew it was his turn for a confession.

"I owe you all my apologies as well." Athos started then stopped. He didn't know how to continue. But after another moment he knew what he needed to say.

"I'll admit that the whole thing Anne left me drained and ill towards others and that led to you all thinking I didn't care and I'm so sorry for that. I'm really sorry to all of you for not being there when you needed or asked and I hope you'll forgive me for that error." Athos finished his confession and knew that it wasn't as specific as Aramis and Porthos' but hoped that it showed his sincerity.

d'Artagnan had been shocked at first by the confessions before realizing that they'd come to the same conclusion he had. It was a moment later that he realized he was the only one who hadn't spoken up. With a nervous shake in his voice he started.

"This might not be appropriate without my memories as I can't remember anything that you guys claimed to have done or that I did but I'd like to say something." The young man swallowed anxiously at all the eyes directed at him with shock filling them. With his hands shaking he continued.

"I don't know my real personality or yours or even our real relationship to one another but from what I've witnessed and what has been said, I'd like to think that apologies wouldn't be needed and that forgiveness would be given without thought. I apologize for whatever part I had in all this and I want you to know that you all have my forgiveness." d'Artagnan hoped he'd said the right thing and hadn't stepped over any boundaries. His eyes widened in surprise and then happiness when Aramis' arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. He could feel the tears falling against his neck but didn't say anything as he just wrapped his own arms around his friend. Aramis pressed his face even more firmly into the Gascon's flesh.

"Thank you." Was whispered softly into d'Artagnan's neck. He just responded by squeezing a little bit tighter.

"No thanks necessary my friend."

Porthos and Athos both had tears in their eyes at the scene in front of them. But all the fighting against them in the world didn't have a chance when they both were wrapped in hugs by the Spaniard and Gascon. After a moment of them all relishing the comfort of the embrace Athos pulled away and inconspicuously wiped away his tears before leveling his voice into command mode.

"We need to leave or else we'll be late to our appointment with a certain Comte."

That statement proceeded to dump coldness on their warm feelings but they all nodded and stepped away from each other. As everyone went to leave the room Athos spoke up again.

"Whatever happens today, I'll be forever grateful that we cleared the air between us. Now, let's all live so we can appreciate it." They all nodded, determination filling them. They would do whatever it took to come back to each other.

OOO

Rochefort straightened his clothes while looking in the mirror at his reflection. He smirked and straightened his hair. He wanted to look his best for today. Because today would be the day the he brought down the Musketeers. Maybe not all of them, yet, but he would put down one of the key players. With this elimination he would cause a domino effect within the Musketeers. This death would cause the Inseparables to disperse in grief, putting the other Musketeers in jeopardy from having been thrown for a loop. This would make them make mistakes and cause the whole regiment to be disbanded. His plan had holes, sure, but for the most part it was fool proof. It was gonna be a great day.

After one more triumphant look in his mirror the Comte headed out. He didn't want to be late to his own party.

He headed down the stairs, completely ignoring the scurrying of the maids as they tried to avoid him. He was known for his temper, even in his own house. The only reason they stayed was for the money and out of fear. He'd made it known that if they were to do wrong they would end up in the secret dungeon hidden underneath the house.

But there was one servant, the cook in fact, that wasn't as afraid as the others in the house. and being in the position he is, he overheard quite many a conversation. It was because of this that he was able to send a message to the Captain of the Musketeers. He only hoped that it arrived in time and that the man even believed him. He knew that working for the enemy put him in a precarious position but he couldn't in good conscience allow this to go on without a warning.

Unbeknownst to the cook, Rochefort had intercepted the message and destroyed it. Because of this he'd already planned to execute the man and get rid of the body. It was disappointing, as he'd enjoyed the man's food, but he couldn't allow traitors to live and interrupt his plans to gaining control of the royalty. Once he finished his plan for today, he'd take out the child King and his son so he could marry the grief stricken Queen and take over the throne.

His lust for Anne, the Queen, made things all the easier. And who would she trust to marry more than her most loyal confidant? It would be so easy to step into place as her husband. He would have to get rid of the handmaid Constance Bonacieux, as he knew of her relationship with d'Artagnan. He didn't need her convincing her Majesty that he was the devil.

Rochefort stepped out onto the porch, enjoying the morning air as he waited for the stable boy to bring round his steed.

Once mounted, he headed out to the meeting spot he'd selected. A few of his own men followed behind to take care of any meddlesome soldiers that decided to show up.

It was an hour before he arrived at the secluded meeting spot. His men dispersed and settled into their spots among the trees and shrubbery. Now, he just had to wait.

OOO

d'Artagnan entered the small alcove in the trees slowly. keeping an eye out for signs of more than one enemy. There was nothing obvious, just a feeling in the pit of his stomach. A voice in the back of his mind said it was a trap and he agreed with it.

He came to a stop a few feet from Rochefort. A shiver crept up through him at the cold darkness staring back at him. How could he have ever called this man brother?

Rochefort grinned inwardly in glee at the fear in the Gascon's countenance. This was what he wanted and what he'd been waiting for. Not too long now and his plan will be put into action. The Comte made sure his features were schooled before handing the missive that was to be delivered to the younger man.

"We must leave now if that is to be delivered on time. And out of my generosity, I'll even let you carry it if it'll make you feel better." The missive was hesitantly taken from his grasp and he headed down the desired path. After a moment he heard the Musketeer start to follow.

The trip was taken in silence, as neither man wished to carry on a conversation with the other. About four hours into the two day trip they came upon a couple of trees blocking the route. The men pulled to a halt and d'Artagnan backed his horse away from the other man, the uneasy feeling from earlier returning full force. His eyes darted around looking for any sign of his friends. Panic rose in his throat at the thought of no backup to help him. There was a click from behind him and he froze before turning slowly to face the enemy. He met the eyes of the sneering man holding a gun towards his chest.

"How bout we take a little ride, hmm."