Hey guys! Sapphire here!

So, someone asked me to do another chapter, but with Aramis' POV on the fixing of Rogue after she almost died. Honestly I hadn't been planning on it until I was asked. But! Here it is, so enjoy the angst!

ST

Aramis' POV:

We didn't have a secluded room, so we put Rogue in tent that had been set up to be a medic tent.

Athos ordered everyone not dying out (And thankfully no one was seriously injured), then closed the flaps after ordering everyone to stay clear of this tent.

I was handed my bag of tools as Porthos set Rogue gently onto the ground.

I kneeled beside her, wishing I had an actual table, and removed my cloak.

I couldn't see any injuries on her besides the gunshot wound, so I just rolled up her shirt and began to clean the injury with the bucket of water that Porthos had just rushed in from the fire as Rogue's sister pulled Rogue's head onto her lap and began to sing. I flushed the injury complete, which had to have hurt if the wince she gave me was any sign.

I cleaned it out on both sides, then pulled out a dagger, washing it in the water. This was the part I hoped she'd stay out for.

I dug around in her injury for the musket ball, wincing every time she cried out in her sleep, blood coating my hands and making my vision get wobbly, before the ball finally came out.

She slept on, thankfully.

I then removed a needle from my bag. Fighting off the sick feeling in my stomach that made me want to vomit.

I washed the needle off, rolled up my sleeves, and instructed D'artagnan and Porthos to hold Rogue down. I hoped beyond hope that she'd stay under, but this was going to hurt her a lot.

I couldn't see any signs of infection setting in, but the area was still tender.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my hands, and felt Athos' hand curl around my shoulder. "You can do it, 'Mis." He said quietly.

I nodded, sucking in another breath before I began to stick up the still bleeding injury.

I got halfway through before Rogue started to scream.

It was the worst sound I'd ever heard. But then, I say that when all my family screams.

She lunged forward and Porthos shoved her shoulders back down, trying to steady her and keep her still.

Athos pushed against her arms, keeping her from swinging at me, and D'artagnan practically draped himself across her legs.

I pushed down on her hip and tried to continue, tried to ignore the horrible sound that was sending shivers down my spine, tried to keep my hands steady, and tried to blink back tears from my vision.

I began to pray in Spanish. Asking God and all that was holy to help my friend, to protect her, to banish all the pain from her, to heal her, and to guide my hands as I tried.

I broke out of my praying to shout, "Rogue! Enough! Stay still! Or all I've done so far won't matter! I'm almost done with the stitching, don't you dare rip it! Or I'll get Porthos to knock you out!"

It was said in Spanish because my nerves were too far gone to focus on French right now, but it seemed to work.

Rogue stilled and stopped thrashing, allowing me to continue stitching. Every once and while, she stir, and her arms would raise like she wanted to take a swing at something, but then she'd stop, and she go stock still again.

I could see her trembling, the sweat pooling off of her face, at the sheer effort of not moving. She definitely had a lot of self-control.

Soon, she went limp, and I looked up in alarm but Evangeline put her hand against her sister's mouth and nodded to me. "She's….. She's still…. Breathing." Came the shaky answer. The woman had tears running down her face, and her green eyes looked dead.

I noticed that in an instant, and returned to my task.

I finished sewing up the injury, washing it off again, then put a paste on it to fight off infection.

I felt around her ribs, and righted the ones broken with careful precision, all the while mentally screaming. Once I was done setting her ribs, I looked up at Porthos and asked, "Can you set her up? I need to wrap her now."

Prothos gave me a broken smile and said, "Yer gonna have to speak in French, Mis."

I started slightly, had I been speaking in Spanish?

I took a deep breath and asked the question again in French. Porthos nodded and together, we got her torso wrapped in the thick bandage I carried in my bag.

After I was done, I checked her over for any other injuries, and found nothing but scrapes and bruises that would heal easily. I still cleaned out the scrapes and put the paste on the them.

When I was finished with my task, and sat back against my heels and nodded. "She's done. With any hope, she'll make a full recovery. But I don't know when she'll wake."

Athos put his hand on my shoulder again, "I'm sure she'll be fine. You did well." He spoke in a calm and collected tone, but I could read the worry hidden beneath it like a book.

I sucked in a deep breath, then asked, "Do any of you need medical attention?"

They all shook theirs heads, so I stood up, said, "Good." Then staggered outside, and proceeded to expel what little I'd eaten onto a tree.

M

A week later:

I was sitting at my kitchen table, incredibly tired but I didn't want to sleep because I knew that if I did fall asleep, I'd only see Rogue dying, or dead, and I'd have to burst into her room and check to make sure she was still among the living.

I yawned, but soon jumped out of my chair as the door opened with a loud bang, and Porthos strode inside.

I knew he had a key to my house, so he had probably just come in through the main entrance and waltz through my living room to scare the living daylights out of me.

He was grinning happily at me, a look I hadn't seen him wear in a week or so now.

"Wha? Porthos! Is there a reason you are trying to give me a heartattack?" I asked as I tried to get my heart beating normally.

Porthos laughed at me, "Because our kit is awake!"

I froze, my brain tried desperately to make sense of what he just said.

"What? What are you talking about?" I dared to hope that he was right, and wasn't just saying things. "She's been asleep for a week, Porthos. How can she be awake? I saw her just this morning when Constance changed her bandages!" And how difficult it was to wait outside the door until Constance left.

Porthos laughed again and he set the basket he carried onto the table, "I don't know meself! But she was leaning ou' the window this morning! Up and talking!"

I turned on my heel and began to walk to the door leading to the staircase, if she was awake, I needed to see her.

Before I could reach it though, it flew open on its own. Is everything trying to kill me this morning?

My brain froze as I was greeted with a smiling face that belonged to Rogue.

"You're alive!" I cried out happily, lunging towards her.

The laugh she gave me was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.