A/N: Thanks to those reading and those who've left a review. This is a slight departure from the others, but still works in the same universe.
Summary: Aramis comes home to find d'Artagnan missing. Perhaps he's under the blankets on the couch, but why?
The Pile of Blankets
When Aramis gets home, the house is quiet. Athos and Porthos he knows are still at work. He left Athos doing liaison paperwork. If it had been Porthos working, he might've stayed for a little longer. But Athos is grumpy and Aramis is sure that he's trying to get himself banned from liaison work. Treville's been getting a lot of calls this week after Athos returns from liaison meetings and then Athos has been getting called in and chewed out by Treville. Each time, he walks out of the office looking chastised until he sits down at this desk and then there's an unsettling smile that comes. As the days pass he's looking more pleased.
And Porthos, as one of the senior Musketeers, is in meetings to form rules to open the Musketeers up to women. Athos suggested opening it to anyone of age provided they pass the exams regardless of how they identify, but Treville reminded him of where they live. Opening it up to women is progress enough for the elite task force. In time, Treville said, he will work on opening it up, but people needed to adjust to women on the task force first. Generally, there was support for it, but those who objected were quite vocal. Aramis is glad he's not in that meeting.
d'Artagnan, a first-year cadet, had the day off for classes and should be doing homework. Aramis thought he might've been eating, given that it's evening and he's quite hungry, especially when he has work he's trying to avoid. But the kitchen is dark. A quick look up the stairs to the hallway shows that d'Artagnan's room is dark as well.
Aramis wanders further finding a pile of blankets on the couch in the den. Sticking out of one end is a mop of brown hair that looks to be the missing cadet, apparently sound asleep with a textbook lying upside down, pages fanned out and bent on the floor where it fell.
"d'Artagnan," Aramis says, walking into the den. The younger man doesn't budge. Aramis tries to make a quick count of the blankets but simply concludes that he must've dragged out every blanket they had downstairs and his own from his bedroom. Aramis moves the book aside and kneels near where d'Artagnan's head is.
"d'Artagnan," he tries again, louder. This time there's some movement. d'Artagnan tightens his eyes and shifts his head, making a light moan. "You okay, d'Artagnan?"
"Cold," d'Artagnan mumbles, shifting under the blankets.
"I don't know how. You have every blanket from downstairs on you and that's not a small number."
"Still cold." Aramis can hear a bit of congestion in his voice.
"Are you coming down with something?"
"Cold."
"I understand that." Aramis chuckles at the young man's mumbled repetition. He reaches a hand out to feel his forehead, sensing the heat radiating off him before he even touches the skin. "I'm going to get the kit. I'll be back." When Aramis comes back with the kit, d'Artagnan hasn't moved.
"I need you to turn your head a bit, d'Artagnan," Aramis says gently.
"Wha…? Why?" d'Artagnan coughs lightly.
"I want to see how bad your fever is. Now, just turn your head so I can get to an ear."
"Don't have a fever. 'm cold, 'Mis."
"Yes, you do have a fever and hopefully, it's just a cold, not the flu that I know has been going around campus. So, please just turn your head. You can still stay under the blankets."
d'Artagnan shifts some under the blankets again, but finally does move his head, allowing Aramis to stick the node of the thermometer in his ear. Seconds later it beeps and reads 101.5.
"So," d'Artagnan asks, shifting so that he can look at Aramis. His eyes are now partly open and Aramis can see the fever and exhaustion in them. Their young cadet has been wearing himself out hitting the books and working at the station.
"You have a cold and a fever."
"That must be why I'm cold," d'Artagnan says plainly.
"Yes, that's why you're cold. Have you eaten anything today?"
"Didn't feel like it." There're another couple coughs and a sniffle.
"Were you just too tired or nauseous?"
"Some of both."
"Have you taken any ibuprofen?"
"No. Cold." d'Artagnan works his way back down under the blankets after a shiver goes through his body.
"Okay," Aramis says with a chuckle. This is the first time he's dealt with a sick d'Artagnan and apparently he becomes quite repetitive when sick. It's amusing. "What sounds good to eat and drink?"
"Nothing. Cold."
"I'm going to get you some ibuprofen, but you can't take it on an empty stomach. How about some toast and tea? That should warm you up some."
"Okay," d'Artagnan says reluctantly. Aramis leaves d'Artagnan to his pile of blankets and goes to make the tea and toast. He goes with simple buttered toast, which should be light enough not to irritate d'Artagnan's stomach. As he waits for the snack to be done, he grabs a quick snack himself. He'll eat dinner when Athos and Porthos get home.
"You need to sit up now, d'Artagnan," Aramis says, walking in with the tea and toast. He sets them on the coffee table to work on coaxing d'Artagnan into a sitting position. It takes a lot of verbal coaching and eventually physically helping him to sit up. d'Artagnan clutches at the blankets as if they're going to be sucked away into another dimension and never seen again. Aramis rearranges them so that he can hold onto them and have his snack. Although d'Artagnan seems steady in holding onto the plate and then tea, Aramis sits close by.
When he finishes, Aramis hands him the medication and a glass of water.
"Are you going to make me go upstairs," d'Artagnan asks after he takes the pills.
"Do you want to go upstairs?"
"No. I was happy down here. It's so quiet and lonely up there."
"Then, let's sit here on the couch and catch up on some TV that Athos and Porthos hate." Aramis and d'Artagnan are major fans of the Arrowverse shows, which Athos and Porthos aren't fond of. They put up with watching them, but the two younger team members know they don't like the shows.
"Okay," d'Artagnan says hesitantly.
"Now, you can either have your head or your feet in my lap. It's your choice. Whichever you're more comfortable with."
"What?"
"You're going to stretch out. Get some sleep, if you can. You need to get through this cold before you get much further behind in your work."
"Oh, my work! I have a big paper coming up I need to read for." d'Artagnan reaches for his book.
"You're not working tonight. Maybe tomorrow for a little bit. We'll see how you're feeling. Right now, you need to rest. The work will be there, your health won't be if you don't take care of it. So, tell me where you want me to sit and get comfortable. We should be able to get through a couple episodes before they come home."
d'Artagnan opts to put his feet in Aramis' lap, though he's somewhat hesitant about it. Aramis brushes his concerns off and pulls his feet into his lap, tossing the pile of blankets over him. As they settle in to watch the latest episodes, d'Artagnan is cozy again underneath the blankets but Aramis finds himself quickly sweating. Nevertheless, he puts up with it for the look of content on d'Artagnan's face as the young man dozes off.