For all those who wanted more of Athos and d'Artagnan in the last chapter, I'm sorry, but I felt I needed to cover all bases for the story flow. Hopefully this makes up for it. Thank you as always for your kind support.

Chapter Fourteen

With no way to keep track of time, Athos could not be sure how long they had sat together in silence. D'Artagnan had made a few more incoherent or non-sensical comments about Vadim until he finally closed his eyes again and appeared to be asleep once again.

Vadim.

Athos vividly recalled the day, Vadim and his men had staged a breakout from the very same prison they now sat locked up in. As someone who was not yet even a musketeer, Athos had felt uncertain at risking d'Artagnan in the mission, but he had ultimately been overruled by Treville. They needed somebody he would not pick straight away as a musketeer. Except they had underestimated the man and d'Artagnan had almost paid for their mistakes with his life.

He looked across to see that d'Artagnan's face seemed calm as he slept and he wondered again at how the boy had made it through that mission intact. The same calm face had looked across a crowd of prisoners and guards as Vadim had held the Queen herself hostage. A slight nod was all it took for Treville to agree to Vadim's demand to open the gate. The Queen's safety was in the balance and somehow, d'Artagnan had gotten her free, completely uninjured. The rest of his plan left something to be desired, but it eventually almost worked out. Somehow.

Musketeers betrayed me.

The words had been like a dagger through his heart when they had come out of the young man's mouth earlier, but suddenly they made sense. It was what he told Vadim in his ruse to gain the man's confidence, while sharing a cell. Athos stared at him as he wondered why the words were coming out again.

He looked around their surroundings and slapped his forehead as he suddenly understood. They were right back where he had been, alongside Vadim. His confused state of mind was clutching at straws. The guards' accusation of horse theft was driving his muddled thinking and the cell had taken him back in time to that night.

"I'm sorry that you could ever believe that." The words sounded hollow and empty, even to his own ears. After all, he was the one who had deserted him when he needed him most.

He sat for a long time before he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. The guards had obviously changed shifts as a man he didn't recognise opened the cell door, strode in and shoved plates of food at them. Not that it actually resembled food, but Athos reached out for both plates anyway.

"Enjoy your last supper … musketeers!" The words came out backed by a sneer as the man turned and pulled the cell door shut once more. It took a moment for Athos to realise he had not heard the distinctive click of a lock falling into place. His heart rate stepped up a notch at the implication. It was not like a jailor to accidentally leave a cell door unlocked. It just confirmed their fear that d'Artagnan would have been left at the mercy of who knew what, if he had not stayed. The fact they were both now unarmed and chained concerned him, but he knew he would simply need to keep his wits about him until Treville returned. Hopefully Porthos' offer could avert whatever was being planned, but he felt uncomfortable at being so out of control of the situation.

He placed the plates on the floor in front of him and decided to take charge of what he could control. D'Artagnan had not reacted to the smell of the sloppy stew that had been brought in and Athos nudged at his arm.

"Supper is served."

When he got no response he nudged harder. He was rewarded by a grunt, followed by a scowl as d'Artagnan took in the meal before them.

"No mouse."

"Not that I can see." Athos wasn't sure if his friend was referring to the food or the cell, but either way there were no rodents in sight. He slowly moved the plate forward and watched as d'Artagnan gagged at the sight of it.

"I know it's not ideal, but you need something to keep up your strength." He tried again with the plate, but d'Artagnan simply closed his eyes again and sagged back against the wall.

"Maybe later." He stared at the slop and knew it would taste even worse if left until later. He hesitantly poked at his own plate before deciding that he could wait for tomorrow as well. He shoved the two plates aside and looked back at his friend. He wasn't sure if trying to provoke a conversation was a good idea or not. It could bring up more confusion or help clarify some things. Either way, it was going to be a long night and he needed some way to keep himself awake and alert.

"Do you know who I am yet?" He knew that it was the extreme end of all the questions he could ask, based on his fear of the answer, but he had to know. It was killing him to think that d'Artagnan may never look at him again and see the truth.

"A musketeer."

It seemed like progress, until Athos recalled the guard had already given him that piece of information.

"Yes. And so are you."

Athos willed himself to stay still as he waited for a response. Finally d'Artagnan opened his eyes and turned slowly towards him. Confusion clouded his face as he struggled to reconcile what he thought he knew with the man's words. He chewed at his bottom lip and Athos wanted to smile at the familiarity of the action. He always did it when thinking something over. When he got no response, he tried again.

"You serve under Captain Treville. You are a King's Musketeer."

Musketeers betrayed me. Betrayed me!

He tried desperately to squash the thought that kept circling around in his mind. A spike of pain surged through his head and he grasped at it to make it stop. Before he knew it, somebody gripped at his wrists and tried to pull his hands away. The sound of the chains jolted in his mind and he cringed away into the wall.

They left when the Red Guards came. The guards came and dragged him away to prison. To Vadim. Left him to die.

"The guards came."

Athos held d'Artagnan's wrists and tried to follow the connection. All they knew was that somebody had called the guards and d'Artagnan had been arrested as a horse thief.

"It was a mistake. Treville will fix it."

Treville didn't want him back.

Resign your commission. I'm sorry, but I choose him.

"'m sorry."

"For what?"

"He's sorry. He doesn't want me."

Athos rubbed a hand over his face at the despair in his friend's voice. The conversation was completely disjointed and he had no idea what he was responding to.

"Treville? Of course he wants you! He came here to get you out."

"Told me to resign."

Resign your commission.

Only musketeers were commissioned.

Athos was struggling to keep up with the connections, but that one was obvious and he shook his head. Why did he have to remember that part?

"No! It was all just part of a ruse. You were helping to lay a trap."

A trap. It's a trap.

"They trapped me?"

"No. Well … at the beginning … in a manner of speaking … but that isn't how it was. The trap wasn't for you!"

D'Artagnan stared at the face in front of him and frowned.

"It was for you!" A look of sheer horror spread across his face as he finally understood. "It was a trap to kill you!"

Murderer! He'd dead! You killed him!

The voices screamed at him from across the square.

"You're dead!" He barely breathed out the words as he inched away from the man in front of him.

The apparition in front of him frowned at his words before shaking its head.

"No! No! I'm right here!"

Pain spiked through his head again as he shook it vehemently to make the angry face go away. His stomach rebelled at the movement and he felt himself shaking from trying to control it. He tried to stop himself sliding sideways as the nausea overwhelmed him.

"If that's true … why am I waiting to hang?"

Athos sucked in a breath as he wondered how to answer. "That's a long story. Fortunately, we have a rather long night before us. But you need to stay with me so I can explain."

He watched in alarm as d'Artagnan sagged against the wall and he reached out to grab hold of him before his head hit the floor. Fear gripped at him as he watched d'Artagnan's eyes close once again. It seemed that very little was actually getting through.

The length of his chain did not allow him to move any closer so he tugged at d'Artagnan's shoulders and pulled him as close as he could. By the time he had the boy's head resting against his thigh, he regretted allowing himself to be chained. He wanted to pull him closer and drag him back from wherever his mind had run away to. Instead, he had to settle for resting a hand on top of his head and praying that the night would pass quickly.

It was some hours later that Athos first heard it. The lights burned low in their sconces, but not so low that he could not see a shadow coming closer. He had been expecting it since the jailor had left the door unlocked. The fact it came in the small hours of the morning was no surprise. It was the hour he would have chosen for such an attack, when defenses were lowest.

He watched as d'Artagnan still lay sleeping against his leg and he debated waking him. He knew that to do so may alert their stalker, but to leave him sleeping left him defenseless. He clamped a hand against the lad's head and waited. With his eyes almost closed and his head tilted sideways, he appeared to be sleeping as well.

The sound of metal grating against dirty hinges told him the door was swinging open and he barely resisted the urge to move. He watched through hooded lids as two feet drew closer.

"Well, ain't that a pretty sight. Holding hands while they die."

The voice carried across the cell as the intruder smirked at them. As he took another few steps closer, he was not expecting one of his victims to sweep a foot out at him and catch him off guard. The dagger in his hand clattered to the floor and Athos lunged for it. In the process, he shoved d'Artagnan sideways and only just registered the grunt of pain his actions caused.

D'Artagnan jolted awake in time to see somebody grappling for something in front of him. He rolled from the floor, into an upright position and watched the man stalking his prey. The fog in his mind was barely lifting as he watched the man and he felt his hands clench in anger.

Rage welled up inside him. The man deserved to die! He had stolen so much and killed so many. He was being given special treatment in the Bastille. Without a confession there would be no justice. I need your confession!

The blade of the dagger was just within reach of Athos' fingertips and he almost had it when a foot stomped on his hand. He cried out as his hand was crushed under a boot and he grasped for the dagger with the other hand.

"I need your confession!"

Athos heard a voice beside him, but had no idea what had been said. He was too busy trying to extricate his hand before the bones broke. Suddenly he felt the weigh shift off his hand and he reached for the dagger. As his fingers grabbed hold of it, he forced himself to his feet. He glanced across to see d'Artagnan had also climbed to his feet and was circling behind their attacker. The man smirked at them both as he felt confident he was still out of their reach.

"They chain animals to the wall. Look at the pair of you! Animals that deserve to die. You left Labarge to kill my friends! Today, it's your turn."

Athos waved the dagger at the man and slowly shook his head. "Not today."

"You think that's all I've got? Like I'm stupid? That's what you musketeers always think. That you're better than everybody else!"

Athos tried to keep the man focused on him as he watched him draw a pistol from behind him. He slowly stepped back and felt the chain slacken against his side, giving him a little more space to move. If he could just draw the man closer.

"This was supposed to be quiet, but if this is what it takes, so be it!"

Labarge!

The name brought a fresh surge of fury rising from the pit of his stomach. Fire swirled in front of his face and he watched as a hulking brute of a man charged towards him.

Athos tossed the blade between his hands, hoping his movement would stop the man from noticing that d'Artagnan had pulled his cloak off and was twisting it in his hands.

As the heavy fabric flicked towards him and wrapped around his neck, the man was pushed forward. He stumbled, but barely managed to keep his feet. Athos grasped at his shoulder as he fell, pulling him closer and expertly slid the blade between his ribs. He felt the barest resistance of bone against the blade and he twisted it before putting his full weight behind it. The pistol slipped to the floor and he stepped on it to keep it from skittering away from him.

The man blinked at him in surprise before blood began to bubble from between his lips. Athos pulled the blade clear and shoved the man backwards while wrenching the cloak free of his body. Blood dripped across the cloak as a stain quickly spread down their attacker's torso. The adrenaline of the moment was still running through his veins and Athos felt his breath heaving in his chest.

He watched as the man staggered backwards, before sagging sideways onto the floor. A few spasms eventually subsided and it was clear their attacker was dead. He caught movement in his peripheral vision and he looked across to where d'Artagnan had dropped to his knees. Suddenly alarmed that his friend had been injured, he moved towards him, only to be pulled up short by the chain that held him to the wall. He cursed under his breath before turning to look at d'Artagnan. He was breathing wildly and looked as though he was about to topple over.

Let him go!

The voice roared across the cell and he felt the weight lift off him before he climbed to his feet. The man who had come close to snapping his neck, glared back at him.

He stared at the man who reached out a hand to steady him, before standing up and slowly stepping closer.

I'm not like you!

You are. More than you know.

"You!" His breath was still coming in heaving gulps and he struggled to control it. "You were there. You came for me."

Athos wondered what he was talking about, but he nodded anyway as it seemed that d'Artagnan had hooked onto a memory. He just had no idea which one.

"Why?" The word was merely a whisper, but in the silence of the cell, he caught it.

Athos smiled as he laid his hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder. Even without knowing the details, he could still answer that one. "Because you're my brother. I will always come for you."