I really need to stop with all of these long breaks...
(also, miraculous recoveries do occur because realism is all well and good but... Aramis!)
Enjoy?
"Aramis won' give up."
"I know."
"Yeah, he knows how he'd feel if it were one of us – wouldn't put us through that."
"I know, Porthos."
"'Sides. Worst has passed now, right? It's just a matter of waiting. Of 'when'."
"I - "
"Not 'if'. Nah, it was never an 'if'. And now, now he's fine but he won't wake up."
"He will, Porthos."
"Seen the same happen before."
D'Artagnan tactfully remained silent.
"There was this guy, don't even remember his name – might never have known it, he was shot by the Red Guard, trying to steal food for his family."
Porthos paused, sniffed, glanced over at Aramis nervously like he had every ten seconds.
"But he was fine, should have been, 'cept he was lying there for a while, lost a lot of blood. Didn't hit anything vital he was just bleeding, in the street. Must have been hours at least before people stopped being scared long enough to try to help him. He was unconscious when they took him home, we were all so sure he would be fine when he woke up. Me and Flea visited the family for a few days but when he didn't wake up, and they couldn't feed him or get him to drink anything. He just died without waking up from what should've just been a flesh wound. Happened a couple more times since I joined the Musketeers. When a man's unconscious so long, it's like their mind forgets how to wake up."
"Aramis is over the worst. His wound is healing and there is no sign of infection. We should be glad of that and simply wait."
"There was only one the same who did wake up that I know. A Musketeer."
"Well that' something."
"No, when he woke up he... wasn't himself. Couldn't remember who he was, could barely speak. Couldn't even walk."
"What happened to him?"
"No idea. He left the musketeers. Well, wasn't really his choice. Last I heard he's in a small cottage with his wife and daughter surviving on a soldier's pension."
"Porthos..."
"I know what you're going to say. He survived. Small mercies and all."
"Porthos."
Porthos turned, having not checked on Aramis recently due to being caught up in his own memories.
Aramis' eyes were open, blinking sluggishly.
"Aramis! Aramis look at me. Are you alright? Aramis?"
Porthos rushed to the bedside and crouched beside Aramis.
"What?" Aramis asked slowly, as if having difficulty finding the word.
"Aramis, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Aramis didn't even look at Porthos, his eyes wandering around the room, frowning.
"Aramis!"
"Who...?"
"Aramis, it's Porthos – you're safe."
"Who... who's Armis?"
"No, Aramis. You're okay, come on."
Aramis' eyes had closed again.
Well, another one incredibly short. I am going to make an unbreakable vow right now. Next chapter will be 2000 words or more (ANs not included) and will be posted at least before the end of the month. (can't promise any more than that on time, quite busy at the moment.)
As always, please review. Too much magic unicorns with Aramis? Tell me what you think :)