Hey hey hey! So I actually have several of these done and will post one a day until I'm done with last years Whumptober prompts! Woohoo! Then I'm gonna get a jump start on writing this years so that I can be ahead of the curve and hopefully not take a year to finish them this time HAHA. Anyway, enjoy! In the Modern AU for this one!
Prompt: Gagged
Porthos closed his eyes with a sigh, shaking his head slightly at the string of rapid fire Spanish coming from his brother. He didn't even understand what Aramis was saying aside from the stray curse or insult, but the intent behind the words was obvious. Aramis had always had the ability to thread threats of violence into conversation with nothing more than his tone.
The atmosphere in the room chilled as the tension ratcheted up a few notches. Clearly, the men interrogating them heard the threat as clearly as Porthos did, though he was sure they didn't understand the actual words either.
"Shut him up," one of the men growled to the other.
"You shut him up!" the second man snapped back.
Porthos watched, slightly awed as the two slid wary glances at Aramis – who had gone menacingly silent – and then glared at each other.
"Now, now, this is no time to be shy," Aramis taunted, doing that thing with his voice again. The words seemed non-threatening on the surface, but the way he said them…there was a promise of violence.
Porthos used the two men's distraction to carefully retrieve one of the paper clips he kept hidden on his uniform.
"I said shut him up!" The first man shoved the other a step closer to Aramis.
Porthos barely held back a snort when the man stumbled and quickly retreated from Aramis' vicinity again.
Most people underestimated his brother. Aramis went to lengths to ensure it, in fact. He guided people into thinking he was the weakest link, the one that didn't need to be watched as closely. It was an invaluable skill, one that had saved them many times.
But sometimes Aramis went the opposite direction. Sometimes, he went out of his way to draw attention to himself, to make himself seem the biggest threat. He did this, without fail, to draw that attention away from someone else.
Right now, he was drawing attention away from Porthos. All it had taken was two punches and one hit with a cattle prod for Aramis to start spitting fire, doing his best to draw the negative attention to himself.
Porthos hated it when he did this, even if he did understand it. Hell, he had done the same thing when the situations were reversed. Some deeply ingrained part of him viscerally rejected the thought of Aramis being hurt in any way. It was the part of him that had met a wild, hot tempered, smart mouthed twelve-year-old all those years ago and felt instant brotherhood, despite being two years older. He had known, the moment he met Aramis, that they were meant to become family.
A crackle of electricity had Porthos' gaze snapping up. He growled low in his throat as he watched the men jab the cattle prod against Aramis' chest. The assault left Aramis disoriented enough that one of the men scrambled closer, jerking a dirty bandana between Aramis' teeth and tying it tightly in place.
"There," the man with the cattle prod grinned wickedly, "that's better."
Aramis rolled his neck, shaking his head slightly to clear it. Then he fixed his gaze unerringly on Porthos, question in his eyes.
Porthos hesitated. He didn't want Aramis to take any more punishment. It was, in fact, the absolute last thing he wanted. But, the paper clip between his fingers was ready and if Aramis could buy him just a little more time, Porthos would be free.
So, he gave a slight shake of his head. He wasn't ready. He needed more time.
Aramis immediately shifted his attention back to their captors.
"Wa' i' 'ome'hin' I 'aid?" he spoke around the gag.
Porthos winced, watching Aramis work his jaw, trying to find some relief from the constant pull of the bandana against the back of his mouth.
"Seriously?' the one with the cattle prod growled. "Don't you ever stop talking?"
"Someti'es," Aramis replied darkly. Even with the gag, the promise of violence hung on every nuance of his speech. The lingering question of what exactly the one word reply meant seemed to weigh on their captors for a moment.
Porthos shifted his makeshift key into the lock on his cuffs.
"Looks like I'll have to work a little harder to shut you up," the man decided. Then he shoved the cattle prod against Aramis' side.
Porthos closed his eyes, tuning out Aramis' grunt of pain and focusing all of his energy onto the paperclip in his fingers as he worked it into the lock. His hands were bound behind him, through the rungs of a metal chair. But he'd picked a lock in more awkward positions.
Seconds later, the ring of metal around his wrist loosened. Porthos pulled his arms slowly back around, quickly unlocking the second cuff from his other wrist. Then he finally turned his full attention back to his brother.
Aramis was curled forward as far as his own bound arms would let him, breathing harsh and sharp around the gag. There was fresh blood dripping from his brow – they must have thrown a punch or two in there while Porthos was distracted – but it was the twin burn holes in shoulder of Aramis' t-shirt that brought fury boiling up into Porthos' heart.
He silently stood and wrapped his hands around the chair back that had just confined him. Without uttering a warning, he brought the metal chair down hard on the head of the man with the cattle prod. Then immediately swung it left, smashing it into the other man's face.
They both dropped into bleeding, unmoving heaps.
Aramis sat back, chuckling breathlessly around the gag, his chest heaving with uneven, stuttered breaths.
"Alright?" Porthos asked, tossing the chair aside and stepping closer.
Aramis nodded, but the thin trail of blood snaking down the side of his brother's face tore at Porthos heart. He reached forward, pulling Aramis' head at an angle so he could see the wound better. Without meaning too, his eyes trailed to the furrowed scar hidden beneath the hair on the same side of Aramis' head. Head wounds were messy business with Aramis since that clusterfuck Savoy operation.
Aramis pulled his head free, jutting his jaw a little to draw attention to the gag still keeping him mostly silenced.
Porthos sat back on his heels, regarding Aramis with a teasing grin.
"Maybe they had the right idea. They do say silence is golden."
"D'n 'e 'n ass'ole."
"Sorry, what's that?" Porthos feigned confusion. "I can't hear you over the blessed silence."
Aramis' glare promised retribution for the teasing.
Porthos chuckled and reached for the knot. It only took him a moment to have it loosened and he pulled it free of Aramis' teeth.
Aramis jerked his head back from the fabric immediately, coughing and then spitting onto the ground.
"I feel like I need to disinfect my mouth."
"What color do you suppose that was to begin with?" Porthos asked about the nasty brownish green bandana while he set to work freeing Aramis' wrists.
"Can you drink hand sanitizer?" Aramis asked instead of answering.
"I don't think it's recommended," Porthos replied with a chuckle, pulling the metal bands free of Aramis' wrists. "Free at last."
"Let's get out of here before Athos shows up and takes the credit for saving us."
"Right, because clearly 'credit' is the most important thing here."
"Clearly we don't need rescuing," Aramis shot back. "But you know what his timing is like."
"Oh yes," Porthos agreed as they headed for the door, "just after the real work has been done."
"He still likes to say he saved me from that mess in Morocco."
"'Mis, when he got to you, they had you in the back of a cargo plane," Porthos pointed out as they made their way carefully out into the hallway.
"Yes, but I had just gotten loose of the ropes, so clearly I had it well in hand."
"Clearly."
A hostile came around the corner ahead of them. Aramis darted forward to engage him, but Porthos just leaned casually against the wall and watched his brother efficiently and ruthlessly take the man down. Aramis turned back to him, checking the rifle he'd taken from the downed man.
"You're a helpful one," he scolded with an arched eyebrow.
"Just wanted you to feel important. Wouldn't want you accusing me of stealing the credit for our escape."
Aramis rolled his eyes.
"Clearly, you're an asshole."
"Clearly," Porthos agreed with a grin.
This one took me forever. I rewrote it COMPLETELY four times with wildly different plots before settling on this one and being happy haha
another one coming your way tomorrow!