Thanks for all the reviews! Here's the next chapter, back to the boys, eh? Yes, I'm Canadian, I'm allowed to do that : )
I tried to pack a lot of angst into this chapter, it's mainly on Aramis this time, so for all you Aramis lovers out there, this ones for you! ;)
The ride back home had thankfully been an peaceful one -if you could call whimpering, struggling and moaning from your potentially dying brothers, peaceful.
As Frère lead his men from the outskirts of farms and through the sunset lit streets of Paris, many civilians whether rich, poor, young or old, stopped what they were doing so they could stare at the passing musketeers; curiosity claiming their features rather than concern or sympathy as they rode past quickly.
No one ever considered what it meant to lead the life of a musketeer, people only cared when their necks' were saved by their quick thinking and brave actions, an applause being their gesture of thanks Frère acknowledged with no small amount of annoyance.
But when a musketeer was wounded instead, people started spreading rumours that they were weak and ignorant of threats, that they were just careless, armed heathens…all while the musketeer in question lay on his deathbed having dutifully protected his king and country.
Shaking his head disapprovingly at the grimly accurate facts, Frère surged on ahead, not bothering to slow his mount for any people stopping to stare in the street.
They would move or he would trample them. They simply didn't have time for this.
As was customary within the winding streets or Paris, Frère and his men were forced to slow in their approach to the garrison, as they must push their bulk through the narrow cobblestone alleyways basked in darkness and squeeze between vendors and other stacked lodgings of Paris.
The structures of these such lodgings had long since begun to sag with age at their tops -until they leaned inwards to join the roofs of their neighbours across the street- effectively blotting out the sky in between. All of which transformed many a street into a dimly lit 'tunnel' for the musketeers.
Eyes peeled for an attack at every shadowed corner, Frère felt his heart beating heavily in his ribcage as they ventured ever closer to their intended destination through the dark streets; only taking comfort in the thought that every step forwards would be one more step closer to safety.
And so it was with great relief that the musketeers finally met the grand arch entranceway to the musketeer garrison; their waiting home filled with joyous brothers -a happy sight indeed- as the tired men began to dismount and meet them with broad smiles and open arms.
But alas the happy moment was not to last, as the final riders carefully dismounted from their horses and dragged the bodies of their injured brothers into their arms; struggling to hold their limp, bloodied frames aloft.
This included Frère, as the young man held a tight grip onto the bloodied leather jacket of D'artagnan and hoisted him up and over a shoulder; worried eyes catching the steely blues of Captain Treville as he burst from his office and raced down the wooden stairs to meet them -the courtyard becoming much more quite and solemn as he approached.
With a single glance to his men, Treville began barking out urgent orders to alleviate the stress of the moment.
"Fetch the boy for a physician" Treville called back to Serge as he helped raise Aramis down from the saddle.
He was not above aiding his men, regardless of his higher status and position over them all.
Nodding once, Serge took off back inside to call for their messenger while Treville continued to dish out instructions.
"You men, yes, you four, I want you to set up some vacant beds in the sleeping quarters. I want these men close to our sides from now on… no sense in delivering them to their separate lodgings" he noted, ducking under an arm and slinging his own about Aramis' waist as Frère was doing on the other side.
"The rest of you take up your duties and rotations. I want to be the first to know if and when Bonnet brings Athos back" he confessed grimly, having noted the absence of their final brother among the ones who'd returned.
They looked like they'd had a hell of a time out there…what did that mean for Athos?
Dragging the lax bodies of their comrades across the courtyard towards the lodgings, Treville wasted no time in bursting through the open front door and sweeping across the hearth, past his waiting men inside and over to a freshly made bed to gently deposit Aramis' on the linens; careful to mind his sodden but wrapped shoulder.
It was then that a second man carrying Porthos in through the doors behind him that a lantern was lit in the dim room; the glow casting about the walls and removing their shadows, allowing them to take in the full extent of their brothers' battle wounds.
Despite the benefits that the light brought to the room, Treville quickly wondered if perhaps it had not be the 'brightest' idea as the none too subtle glow shone into the face of Aramis and tore the soldier from his fitful slumber.
Gasping for breath, with eyes wide open and darting around frantically, Aramis managed to half sit up in his new bed before clutching at the pain in his shoulder and glaring at the men about him.
"What have you done!" he shouted hoarsely, as Treville quickly moved to his side and pushed him back into the blankets, holding his hand firmly against Aramis' straining chest.
They couldn't risk him injuring himself further; even if it meant restraining him.
"Aramis, be calm" Treville soothed, the air of a wizened old father replacing the tense atmosphere for a moment.
"You are safe among friends here. You are home" he continued, comfortingly; his deep reassuring voice breaking through his Aramis' seemingly delusional state and he pressed more firmly against his chest, hoping to ground the flailing man.
As an inkling of recognition entered Aramis' pain filled eyes, Treville took a seat on the bed beside his man.
Treville would not leave him like this, even as his brothers were being tended to opposite them, he could not leave.
Leaving now would be like abandoning ship, it would be like leaving the stranded men aboard to assume that they were going to drown. Leaving would be cruel. They had been apart for far too long as it was.
Treville was going to stay by Aramis' side as much for his own comfort as for the soldier in bed -even if Aramis' mind was less present than his was to find comfort in his presence.
"You should have left me there" Aramis croaked brokenly, tears filling his clouded eyes as his head lolled back tiredly.
Treville felt a painful tug in his chest at the accusation in his mans' voice.
What had his poor friend endured out there? He was clearly traumatized by something…but without knowledge of the incident, he could hardly offer the proper words of comfort to put the man at rest.
"Don't be absurd! We would never abandon you out there" Treville retorted with a frown while his mind grasped at straws as to what his friend had meant.
"Well you should have…I don't deserve to be saved…not after that" Aramis whispered hoarsely, his throat thick as he held back the noises that would have accompanied the tears now streaking down his face.
A guilt ridden look of anguish was pouring from his eyes even as he swiped angrily at them with his good arm; still trying to conceal his overwhelming emotions in his vulnerable state.
Trevilles' frown deepened into one of concern at Aramis' words and reached a hand over to the mans swiping arm, gently removing it from his face.
"Aramis, whatever it is you may be struggling through, I will help you through it -we will all help you through it" Treville promised; a musketeer over his shoulder nodding along with the sentiment, a sad expression on his face over the pity he felt for his tormented brother.
Now unable to hide his face with his arms, Aramis looked away from the men and attempted to roll on his side and eliciting a small howl of pain that erupting from his mouth; the deeply dug channel in his shoulder twisting painfully at the motion and forcing him to clench every muscle in his body just to prevent further sound.
He could suffer through this pain in silence, he wouldn't want to evoke the sympathy of the others. Not after what he'd done.
But Treville was having none of it and so he turned Aramis back over; expression now one of anger at witnessing the unwise actions of his man -but fighting to maintain his reserved manner so he could project a confident, calming aura for the others.
He knew Aramis would only accept his accusations at this point -and add them to his seemingly high stack of flaws. He was broken up enough already. What he needed was support not a lack of.
As the physician leapt into the room to attend D'artagnan; whom was currently in 'first place' for the most grievously wounded and continuing to struggle weakly even now in his half aware state, Treville turned back to the bed, insisting on keeping watch over Aramis.
He didn't trust him at this point. A troubled mind filled with the bitterness of times past -that could not be undone- always had the motive to accomplish horrifying 'tasks'… no matter how outrageous they may seem to lucid man.
"You can't help me through this, Captain" Aramis retorted in a slur; eyes downcast and still refusing to meet his commander as he instead eyed D'artagnan across the room, opposite the foot of his bed, who it seemed was still writhing in protest against the arms of his brothers and the physician that attempted to aid him.
When had he gotten injured!? Why hadn't he helped, again!? Was he really so selfish that he hadn't even noticed his youngest brother taking a shot for him?
Aramis shook his head and added those dark thoughts to his list of faults.
At least his brothers were safe now…well almost all of his brothers Aramis corrected gloomily as he noted Athos had not returned before them.
"Tell me, what happened?" Treville coaxed, bringing Aramis wandering attention back and thankfully gaining it this time.
But Treville became highly disturbed at the look in his mans' eyes, instantly wishing he'd been there to prevent the horrors that Aramis' had undoubtedly witnessed over the past few days… while he had stood guard here… and did nothing.
"Her throat was slit under my protection…" Aramis choked out, taking Treville off guard with the unexpected confession.
He remained quiet as Aramis continued to talk, wondering if this woman was the one Athos had mentioned in his note, "-I was too blinded by my arrogance…and she was killed…" he added in a raspy voice, tears spilling anew.
Treville patted him on the arm lightly, encouraging him to continue with his difficult tale at his own pace.
He had not expected Aramis to openly tell him of his haunted experiences but he guessed the strain of carrying it all had finally snapped the man…and if sitting here and listening was the kind of therapy that Aramis needed, then he would listen.
"She gave us food and shelter…her husband cared for Porthos…we had begged her to help…" Aramis recalled, eyes swimming but distant as he looked over to Porthos who only appeared to be sleeping on his left now that his colour was restoring and his body healing nicely.
But Aramis knew the truth. Porthos was not sleeping, the man was recovering from a serious injury…that could have been avoided, no thanks to him on the battle field.
He felt a hand on his chin and allowed his head to be turned back to a fuzzy Treville, a man he had the utmost respect for.
A man whom had taken him into the regiment when his broken mind had lead him to criminal activities after he had lost Isabelle, his one true love …and despite his misgivings, Treville had still taken him in! Trained him up, clothed him, fed him, sheltered him and given him a new goal in life -to serve king and country- and inadvertently give him a new family.
…And to repay him, all he'd done was go gallivanting off in the wilderness and lose three brothers at once! And then kill some innocent civilians along the way! How dare he!
Aramis could not meet Trevilles' eyes. No matter how hard he tried or wanted to.
He felt disgraced… ashamed… disgusted with himself. He did not and could not accept the sympathetic, caring look Treville was blatantly giving him. He didn't deserve it.
"Aramis, I have no doubt you have done the best you could on this tragic mission. You always do your best -and that is all we can ask for… This woman you speak of knew you to be kind, and because of it, she accepted you into her home, willingly" Treville informed.
"You did not kill her, her death is on the hands of another cowardly man…she was a causality" he finished, hoping his words held some truth and comfort.
But Aramis stubbornly stuck to his woes, shaking his head slightly, his vision beginning to fade out at the edges once more as his shoulder pulsed in agony as the healer by his side began her ministrations.
He hadn't noticed her, until now. He didn't want to be around women right now…it reminded him too much of…her.
Aramis daren't look, he couldn't stand the similarities and felt he may vomit at the sight of oozing blood and bloodied needles.
There was a reason he was always the medic- besides his bountiful knowledge of human anatomy- he knew he liked the control… could rely on himself to know that what he was doing was helping. And the best part -he could only feel the mental pains of the fallen, as bad as that was…but never the physical pains.
Physical pains left you without wits and control…and it scared him half to death... Uselessness wasn't a desirable trait for any man, especially a lowly soldier.
But this, this experience was agony -both mental and physical- as his brothers lay either side of him, dead or dying, and he could do nothing to save them -for he too was incapacitated by the fire that was his shoulder. And it was all thanks to his unforgivably atrocious behaviour.
Aramis both hated and loved it.
He deserved this -Aramis thought again; the harsh words were becoming his new mantra.
Treville sighed in exasperation at Aramis' evasive and pained expression, he could do no more for him now.
Perhaps his brothers could knock some sense into him -when they weren't fighting for their lives.
Glancing away from Aramis, Treville suddenly noticed that an eerie stillness had descended upon the room due to the silence of Porthos and D'artagnan.
The boy had been subdued shortly after his outburst moments ago, to leave the men in a shushed state while the physicians concentrated on their tasks of cleansing the mens' wounds and following through with delicate needle work.
Based on Aramis' ramblings, Treville reasoned that the brothers had split up from the farmhouse for some reason -as Aramis had not mentioned Athos'…death… and so he must still be wandering out there. Treville could only hope.
Gathering from the most up to date information, Treville took in the facts that they had been taken into a second sanctuary and had Porthos' treated once more. He guessed that it was here that Aramis and his brothers' had encountered some assailants -as it would explain his indirect involvement in the hostesses' murder.
Considering the number of injuries the three men sported, it was fair to say there had been a fare few assailants roaming around… so he supposed Athos had been in the clear from them for now…and with Bonnet at his side, they should arrive without having suffered any harm.
As for these three, Treville knew Frère could no doubt fill him in about the final details regarding how D'artagnan had been injured and how exactly they had found the boys -and then carried them home.
It was all piecing back together. Slowly.
Trevilles' distant gaze returned back to Aramis to find he had passed out at some point but was still twitching slightly under the work of the woman knitting up his wound.
Standing slowly, Treville turned from the bed and padded quietly over to Frère who waited in the corner of the room; a troubled look on his face as he stared at the young, fitfully sleeping Gascon now wrapped in thick bandages.
The boy was standing by his side, pulling at the neck of his new uniform nervously; this was all new to him.
Treville forced a light smile as the boys' worried gaze drifted over to him as he approached; ruffling his hair slightly as he faced Frère and nodded to the door.
It was time they leave, they could discuss this further in his office, no need to wake them.
As they walked through the open door and out into the fading light, Treville ushered them back towards the balcony that lead to his office; tapping the boy lightly on the shoulder as they went; his cue to return back to Serge.
With a nod, he darted off; eager to return to the safe, more light hearted confines of the cooks quarters.
Bleeding musketeers lying everywhere was not something he was comfortable with.
Treville opened the door to his office wide, and allowed Frère to enter first; sighing tiredly as he moved to take a seat behind his worn, ornate desk and cricked his neck at the tension building there before clasping his hands and leaning forwards expectantly.
Frère immediately filled him in on their mission, informing him of Bonnets' plan to split up and search the area faster under the grim knowledge that towns' were being ravaged in the assailants frantic search to find their brothers first.
From here, it was the small, painful matter of recounting how they had turned back to spy a burning home; bodies strewn everywhere -including that of their brothers- and then D'artagnan had attacked them…and he had shot the boy…
Frère could hardly get the confession out, eyes glued to his boots as his stomach churned and the tense feeling of each hair pricking up to stand on end as his body flooded with a numbing ice.
Surely, Treville would cast him out now. He had shot one of their own. Almost killed him! They didn't accept 'would be murderers' along the ranks of the regiment…he would be back on the streets soon enough. And then there was also the matter of apologizing to D'artagnan, who might try to kill him in a more 'fair' duel.
Frère gulped thickly, clenching and unclenching his gloved fists in his lap beneath the desk where they couldn't be seen as he waited for the final verdict from his captain.
Unfortunately for Frère he couldn't avoid the feeling of the heavy gaze on his bowed head as Treville remained silent.
After a few more intense seconds went by, Frère let out a choked sigh and began to rise from his seat.
If his captain didn't have the heart to dismiss him, he would do it himself.
"Where are you going?" the nonplussed question came at his back, forcing him to turn with dread.
"Leaving, sir. I will remove my possessions from my quarters just as soon as I return my weapons to the smith" Frère informed him regretfully; voice wavering with emotion as he kept his head bowed.
Treville shook his head with dismay and almost rolled his eyes, "Sit and stop being so fool hardy, son. I do not intend to relieve you of your duties…I am merely contemplating Athos' 'disappearance'" he stated, worry clear in his voice.
Frère couldn't help but let go of the breath he had been holding and lean unsteady hands onto the back of his chair, emotions running wild.
"But sir, I told you I-" he began, confusion showing through wild gestures, but Treville cut him off with the wave of his hand.
"I know what you told me, and I also know you acted under the assumption that there was an armed man heading for one of our men" Treville stated matter-of-factly; Frères' face turning to one of awe.
"You saved his life -even if you had to shoot D'artagnan to do it... The boy was understandably not in his right mind, son, you would have had to do something…even if you'd known his identity" Treville finished grimly, doing his best to comfort the younger man.
"I'm sure D'artagnan will understand" he added, knowing what the man would think of next. Frère didn't seem completely convinced at this particular sentence though and hovered about awkwardly.
Everyone was seemingly traumatized by this disastrous mission Treville speculated, another tired sigh breaking forth as he massaged a temple.
When was the last time he had slept? He couldn't even remember.
"Oh, uh…thank you? -sir…" Frère fumbled, not sure how to respond to having been told his reactions were the right ones, yet of somewhat bad consequences.
"Leave me, please. I need to think" Treville suddenly requested, quietly; eyes back to the piece of parchment Athos had sent and critically analyzing the meaning of each word -trying to decipher new 'in-depth' meanings from the message in hopes of figuring out why Athos had parted from his brothers.
The woman! It had to be….he had gone back for her?… But why? Did it have something to do with why the three brothers had left so suddenly -even though they'd needed further aid for Porthos on their journey… who must still have been sick?
Had the assailants driven them from their sanctuary? But then was Athos and the woman now? He thought the boys had killed off the assailants at the gruesome showdown at the second home -that had almost cost them their lives…
Too many questions, too few answers.
Treville decided he would wait until the boys woke up once more and see if they could shed any light on this dismal situation.
Until then he would try to get some rest, he wouldn't accomplish anything else by sitting in his office at all hours of the night…even if his dreams would be plagued by the same worries as to where Athos had gone.
Treville knew none of the men, himself included, would truly be able to relax until their final brother returned.
They needed Athos back home.
Awww, sad I know. The whole chapter was :/ But hey, at least the brothers aren't dying out in the middle of nowhere! Now they're home and getting aid!
And you're going to have to wait for the 'Athos/family reunion' we all know is coming! Sorry! -But we need to check back in on Porter -he's not exactly 'down for the count' now is he?
Good villains are always too stubborn for that ): )
Anyways, please leave a review and let me know what you thought! It took me a while to flesh this out…I only had bare bones to lay this chapter out, thus the wait. Lol. Until next time!