Evening My Lovelies

Oh, the temptation to leave you all on last chapter's cliffhanger and switch back to D'Art and Favier :D ... I didn't but it was VERY tempting :D

On a plus note there was no writer's block with this chapter XD the slight caffeine high I was on from an energy drink might have been responsible for that but after struggling with SO much writer's block I'm going to take what I can get :D

Notes On Reviews:

UIa (Guest): Thanks for the review - haha sorry but I can't help it, I love me a cliffhanger :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

pallysd'Artagnan: Thanks for the review - Is it wrong that your review made my evil side smile :) Aramis is indeed about to have to endure some whumpage, though we'll be seeing most of it in the next chapter. On the plus side think of the angsty conversations our boys will have to have after all this and the delicious fluff it could lead to :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

Jmp (Guest): Thanks for the review - I'm afraid the worry will likely continue whether I update or not but I'll try to answer your question fairly soon. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - I was going to have it be the food but I wanted them both out and Athos was already suspicious and given I couldn't see him not warning Porthos about his suspicions I figured I needed something else. Enjoy the new chapter! x

beeblegirl: Thanks for the review - Mwhahaha I know! :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

As always much love and many thanks for following/favouriting/reviewing/reading

Love you all!

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter Twenty-Five: Anger & Betrayal

He had been in the early stages of waking when it all began, barely returned to consciousness when a sudden kick to his already abused ribs both shocked him awake and pulled a scream of pain from his chapped lips.

"Open those eyes musketeer," snarled a somewhat familiar voice, the command followed swiftly by another kick, this one knocking the air right out of the marksman's lungs, causing the man's eyes to snap wide open in panic as he gasped for breath.

"That's better," crooned the voice, its owner kneeling before him just enough that the still gasping Aramis was able to make out his features in the diminishing light, the musketeer's heart speeding up as he recognized him as one of the militiamen accompanying him and his brothers on the trip back to Paris.

His brothers! Exclaimed Aramis's mind, panic further filling him as he desperately tried to find some sign of his brothers, knowing they wouldn't be remaining silent, let alone even letting this happen if they were aware of it.

So lost in his frantic attempts to see passed his abuser Aramis missed the man's somewhat threatening next words, something the man didn't seem to appreciate given the hand that found its way into his hair soon after. The harsh pull that soon followed succeeded in pulling Aramis's attention back to the man in front of him and the musketeer did his best to glare daggers at the man, even as tears of pain prickled at the corners of his eyes.

"Those friends of yours," hissed the man, his voice like ice as he leaned in so close Aramis could feel several drops of spit land on his face, "They're not going to be able to help you… Not again, we took care of that."

Panic once again filled Aramis's entire being but despite the pain and sickness radiating throughout his body the not so subtle threat against his brothers gave the marksman more than enough motivation and just enough strength to force the man's hand out of his hair, an impressive glare filling his pale and drained features.

"What… Have you done to them?" demanded the marksman, his voice coming out much weaker than he would have liked. He could already feel his earlier burst of energy leaving him as his limbs began to faintly tremble from all the pain he was currently trying his best not to feel.

"You have no right to demand anything from us musketeer," stated the cold voice of a new man and Aramis was immediately reminded that there had been two members of the village's militia on the road with them.

Fortunately, the new arrival seemed willing to ignore him, for now at least, as the man turned his attention to his companion.

"It's done but we shouldn't press our luck… I don't know how potent Issac's dose was. The man is hardly a threat in his current condition but I don't want to risk it."

The first militiaman nodded in agreement, the man glancing over towards a still glaring Aramis before turning his attention back to his companion. "How long?"

"An hour," stated the second before he nodded behind him. "The storm is beginning to die down but with luck, it will hold long enough to help obscure our tracks should they try and follow us."

The pair made no attempt to hide their conversation from Aramis's ears, a feat that had a sense of unease churning in the musketeer's stomach, Though that might just be nausea, mused the medic internally with a faint, grim smile. The fact that both men stated they had a time limit both worried and relieved the musketeer, who tried his best to ignore the worry and focus on the relief that flooded his system as he realized that it must mean that whatever had been done to his brothers had not been permanent.

"I'll get him up," stated one of the men, the iciness of his voice immediately pulling Aramis from any pleasant thoughts he might have been experiencing as he willed his eyes to open once more, though panic rushed through him as he realized he had no idea when he had closed them. The panic continued to grow as the man continued to approach him, the marksman not even hearing the man's order to his companion to "get the bag," as he quickly became lost in a sea of pain as he was roughly manhandled into a seating position with his back resting against the hard wood of the wagon.

"Its a shame we only have an hour together," whispered the man in his ear as he secured Aramis's hands to the side of the wagon above his head with his belt. Aramis barely had a moment to contemplate the odd and ominous phrase before the man continued, a smirk tugging at his lips as he tightened the belt even tighter to pull a gasp of pain from his captive. "We had such fun during our last session together." Aramis's eyes widened in both shock and confusion as he stared right at the man's eyes, his heartbeat increasing recognition slowly began to fill his eyes.

"You," he breathed and he swore his injuries flared with pain at the mere act of remembering the man smirking before him.

If anything Aramis's recognition seemed to only make the man smirk more as he nodded once, "Me," he grinned. "My previous companion isn't with me this time and we don't have the days we had before but I'm sure we can still have fun."

With that Aramis's mind was immediately bombarded with memories, his battered body shaking violently as the phantom pain from those memories coupled with the actual pain currently radiating throughout his body.

FLASH BACK

Aramis woke with a gasp as ice cold water was thrown over him, causing his eyes to immediately shoot open and his teeth to start chattering.

"Nice of you to finally join us, musketeer," stated a voice and Aramis could practically hear the smirk its owner was undoubtedly wearing.

He was proved right mere moments later when his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of his current location and he was able to spot the smirking man standing several feet away from him with a very familiar looking woman standing next to him.

"Beautiful and dangerous it would seem," commented Aramis casually to the woman as he discretely tried to discern just where he was. "I must say mademoiselle I've never had a woman so… dissatisfied with my company that she drugged me and handed me over to a bunch of brigands to, I assume, be tortured for information."

Clara's eyes widened at the mention of her part in the current situation and what might be awaiting the man, her eyes darting to the man beside her, unknowingly letting Aramis know just who was calling the shots in this arrangement.

The man managed to placate Clara fairly quickly and after sending the restrained musketeer one last glare she left the room, the sound of the heavy door closing once more echoed around the large room.

"So," commented Aramis with nonchalance and confidence he would soon come to regret, "Shall we get this over with?"

END FLASH BACK

Aramis was pulled violently from his memories courtesy of yet another blow to his already badly damaged ribs.

Gasping in pain the marksman struggled to muster the strength to glare at his abuser, slightly alarmed that the second man had returned without him even noticing.

"So," spoke the man from his memories, an all too familiar smirk spread across his face. "Shall we get this over with?"