A/N: Thanks to those who are still reading and those who leave a review. I appreciate the feedback. This story feels like it's gone on forever, at least to me, but that's probably because I've been working on it since last July. Hopefully, it's not dragging for you all. It is getting into the part of the story I've been looking forward to and, as wandering as the story may seem, everything is leading up to something, but Aramis is going to have to suffer a little longer.

Thanks to Issai for beta reading. Her advice and suggestions have made this story much better than the first draft. Any remaining mistakes are my own doing.

In this installment, in the aftermath of Aramis' conversation with Treville and Athos, tensions are high and Aramis is unmoving. Porthos decides to take matters into his own hands.


The First Appointment

Neither Aramis nor Athos comes down for dinner and Porthos and d'Artagnan don't have the heart to make them, especially after Treville left with so few words and a blank look. A silence comes over the house that extends to work the next day. While the others go to work, Aramis stays with the Treville's where Sarah is on fall break. The kids are still in class for a couple more days, so the house is quiet as Aramis rests. He takes up his old place in the den, finding a strange bit of comfort on the old couch.

For her part, Sarah leaves him be. Jean talked with her about what he was going to say to Aramis, wondering if this was the right way to go. She also talked with him afterward. Like Jean, she was sure that Aramis would be civil with her and definitely with the children. Sarah sends the dogs in to stay with Aramis during the day. Freddie, the dog d'Artagnan rescued from the rain, has turned out to be a steadying influence on Aramis. They'd even done some therapy dog courses with him to help Aramis out more, though the dog is not certified as a therapy dog. Gracie, for her part, brings any number of socks, towels, and toys to whoever is sad in the house. Sarah knows that the two dogs will provide greater comfort now than she or anyone else case, save perhaps the kids, but Aramis needs silence for his still aching head.

She keeps Meg from the den during the afternoon.

"But I'll be really quiet," Meg says after lunch. "I'll just read or color. Those don't make any noise."

"Uncle Aramis needs a dark room too." The headache has only grown worse as the day wears on and she suspects that it's not just the lingering concussion causing the problem. "Why don't you do some drawing out here for him? I'm sure he'll be happy to see it once he wakes up."

"Can we bake him cookies instead?"

"I don't know."

"It'll make him happy. His favorite cookies always do."

Sarah relents because, while she knows that it won't alleviate Aramis of his pain or sadness, it will show him that they care and that might be more important than anything they could do.

When he does wake and sees the cookies, he smiles, and Sarah hopes that it's not just for Meg's benefit. He eats a couple of cookies, but she can see that it's difficult to take each bite. Pale and pained, Aramis goes back to the den to rest until someone comes to pick him up.

The days pass in much the same manner. By Wednesday, the kids are out of school for the Thanksgiving holiday. They do their homework then, not only to help Aramis' still aching head and body with a quiet house but so that there's no Sunday panic, which Sarah hates. Thursday they go to Athos' house to prepare the meal while Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan work. Aramis, to Sarah's dismay, can't help much. He tries, but she sees the unsteadiness in his movements and the pained movements from his still bruised chest. Without complaint, he goes to rest in the den with a few ice packs on his chest to ease the ache.

Overall, the holiday and the week are a quiet affair and especially tense in the Inseparables household. They're reluctant to force Aramis to make a decision, worried that he might choose to leave even all of them denied that he would out loud. After a week of little activity and increasingly hiding himself away in his room, Porthos has had enough of Aramis' lack of action. Monday evening, after yet another tense, quiet dinner, when they're clearing away the dishes, Porthos gives Aramis the news.

"This Thursday at 4 you have an appointment with a psychologist. I'll come home to pick you up and take you there." He's firm but even in his tone. His goal isn't to anger Aramis, but to let him know that he's not going to give him up easily.

"Apparently, you haven't spoken with Athos or Treville about this. I've been given a choice," Aramis says, voice equally level.

"They've given you the choice. And yes, you can leave if you want, but let me tell you this. I don't want you to leave and I'll fight to keep you here. Whatever I have to do, however much you'll hate me right now, I'm going to fight to keep you here with us, your family."

"You may have a long fight," Aramis says quietly.

"Then we'll fight," d'Artagnan says. "Right?" He glances at the others, who nod and agree with him.

As the time passes from when he's told about the appointment to the appointment itself, they think more about Aramis' comment about possibly leaving. Athos isn't sure that it means Aramis has decided anything. He wonders if the man has the energy in him for a long fight. In the past several days he's been withdrawn and lethargic, either of which may be the concussion and/or the anger. Sarah has let them know that he is still dealing with headaches, though they've gotten better. While Aramis is doing better and staying at home rather than with the Treville's, she does stop by with Meg for a few hours in the afternoon to help break up the monotony of his day.

By the time Thursday comes, Porthos arrives early at home, catching Sarah and Meg as they're leaving to pick up Ben from the bus stop.

"How's he been," Porthos asks as they stop in the garage.

"Quiet, though he did talk with Meg some. He was sleeping when we got here. Said he had a headache this morning," Sarah says.

"Yeah, he woke feeling sick and the headache was coming on by the time we were leaving. Hopefully, he's ready to go to his appointment."

"He didn't say anything about it and I didn't ask."

"Is Uncle Aramis sick again," Meg asks. She is too young to remember Aramis' initial bout with PTSD and depression, but she's seen him go through other bouts and she's heard about the others.

"Yes, but we're trying to make sure it doesn't get bad," Porthos says. They've never hidden any of their illnesses from the kids.

"That's good because I don't like it when he's sad."

"Well, we don't either and I don't think Aramis likes it much. You still having fun in school?"

Meg shrugs her shoulders. "I can't get any stickers."

"Stickers?" Porthos glances at Sarah.

"Color by verbal instruction, which Meg is struggling with because she's not listening to the teacher," Sarah explains.

"It's just a boring activity," Meg complains.

"Well, there's a question to ask yourself, Meg," Porthos begins, kneeling down to meet her at eye level. "Is this activity hurting anyone?"

"It's just coloring, Porthos."

"There's more than physical hurting. You know how Athos and Aramis hurt sometimes. Is it emotionally hurting anyone?"

"I dunno. Probably not. She never gets mad at us. She gives us ways to listen better."

"It sounds like she's trying to help. Your parents have probably already told you this, but you should try to listen harder and if you're still struggling, then tell your teacher and your parents. Okay?"

"Okay." Meg nods her head. "And you'll make sure Aramis gets better?"

"I'll do my best."

"And Athos?"

"And Athos," Porthos says, wondering how Meg picked up on Athos' depression, which the man usually hides from everyone. He says his goodbyes and heads in, realizing that it's very nearly time to get Aramis over to his appointment. To his surprise, the man is dressed with shoes and a jacket on, waiting on the stairs.

"You ready to go," Porthos asks.

"Do I have a choice?" Aramis looks up at him.

"Yes. You always do."

"What happened to fighting to keep me?"

"Oh, I'm still going to do that but think about this, 'Mis, you wouldn't've been dressed and ready to go if you weren't wanting to go. Now, we really should get going. The roads are still a little slick from this morning's snow, so we're going to have to take our time."

Aramis doesn't say anything more but does follow Porthos out to the car. The ride to the clinic is quiet. Lemay had had his office over here, next to the hospital as well. Once he's checked in, he joins Porthos in waiting. It's not long before he's called back.

The room he enters is familiar. Its Lemay's old office and he's not sure if he relieved or unsettled by the coincidence. He doesn't have time to settle on either as the psychologist, a Dr. Morel, greets him with a handshake and a smiling face.

"Good afternoon, Mr. d'Herbley. I'm Dr. Morel, but you're welcome to call me Leslie, if you like," she says. "Please have a seat." She gestures to an armchair behind Aramis.

"Please call me Aramis." He chooses the armchair with some hesitation, finding it confining and closed. It's not the same as Lemay's and not as comforting, but it'll have to do because he has to be here.

"Of course, Aramis." She sits in the chair opposite the armchair. There's a long pause, which Aramis takes to look anywhere but at Leslie. "Do you like snow?"

"What?" Aramis looks up suddenly.

"I asked if you like snow."

"That's not a therapy question."

"No but it's a conversation starter and it seems like we're in need of one. So, do you like snow?"

"Yeah, I guess. You?"

"No, I'm more of a sunshine, hot weather type person."

"I can't say that's my favorite type of weather."

"No, I'd imagine not with your history."

"It happened during the night, doctor," Aramis says flatly.

"Of course, but you weren't rescued for nearly two days."

"How do you have this information?"

"It's all in your file, Aramis."

"I didn't know that was all in there."

"Well, not everything. But the basics are here."

"Oh. I should've guessed that."

There's another silence that falls over them. Aramis is surprised that Leslie doesn't try to broach conversation again, at least until about half-way through their hour-long session.

"Now, I can find any number of random conversation starters to get us going, but we should probably talk about why you've come here today and figure out a plan of action before the end of our hour," Leslie says.

"Well, I guess I should say that it wasn't my choice. Porthos, one of my friends and housemates, made the appointment and then told me about it."

"And yet you're here."

"Yeah, there is that."

"So, how did you feel when you found out that he scheduled the appointment?" For Morel, it isn't entirely unusual for someone else to set up the appointments. It happens most often with children, but there are some adults who have their appointments set up by others. In Aramis' case and some others, patients have the option to give those listed as their next of kin certain powers such as setting up appointments. They could also speak with her about his well-being and pick up his prescriptions.

"Angry, of course. How else would I feel?" Aramis tries not to sigh because he knows this is what he's agreed to by coming to the appointment instead of walking away.

"A very sensible reaction, of course. But they are on your list."

"Yes, but that was when things were better between us."

"What's happened? I've seen the recent hospitalization and ER visits in your record. Do they have anything to do with those?"

"Some. It's just something we haven't been seeing eye-to-eye on."

"That's quite a vague explanation," Leslie comments with a little smile. "Care to elaborate?"

"No," Aramis says simply.

"I understand." She nods. "Trust is important to you and I'm someone new. You don't know if you can trust me just yet."

"It's nothing to do with you, really," Aramis says as an apology.

"Oh, I understand and it's nothing to feel guilty about. While I don't know everything that's been going on, it sounds like a rough year so far and it's worn on your closest friendships."

"That sounds about right."

"With time, though, I hope we'll establish some trust."

"Time?"

"Yes, I do recommend that we have more sessions. Just once a week to see about digging in deeper to what's been bothering you."

"Sessions?"

"Would you like to find another therapist?"

"No, not yet," Aramis says slowly, thinking. There are not the usual warning signs he's had with other therapists that he turned out not to like. Something about either her or the room is comforting him.

"Well, let's start to think of plans for the coming week. What's one thing that you'd like to work on for this week?"

"I don't know."

"Well, tell me then how things have been lately. What are some things you've noticed aren't normal?"

"I'm not sure I'm the one to ask about that. The others seem to notice more than me," Aramis says.

"Well, then tell me about your normal day."

"Well, I wake up early even though I'm on leave. I get up with the others and eat breakfast with them," Aramis starts. He goes on to describe how he sometimes dozes in the morning while watching TV, getting going in the afternoon to get dinner put together. "It gets difficult in the evening to move around, do things lately. I've been getting headaches, a lingering effect from the concussion, I'm guessing. By then my chest and ribs are acting up, too."

"And your breathing? I saw the report about the bruising."

"It's easing, finally, and with winter coming, the allergy season is ending, so that's something."

"That is good news. So, let's take a look at your day. I like to recommend to my patients that they work on one thing at a time, so you don't get overwhelmed because even a little forward progress is progress. Okay?"

Aramis nods his understanding.

"So, what would you like to tackle in this week? Is there something small that you'd like to do?"

"Not fall asleep during the day, I guess. It makes sleeping at night hard."

"That's a good small goal. What are some ways you can stay awake?"

"Not laying down on the couch even though it's the most comfortable couch in the world."

"That's a start but let's think of some other things too."

They spend the remainder of the session thinking of ways to keep Aramis from sleeping during the day and by the end he's feeling much better about the weekly appointments and Leslie as his therapist.

"Hey, I was a wondering," he begins as he stands. "You look really familiar. Do you have a sister? I feel like I've seen you somewhere."

"Yes, and you've probably seen her. She works in the ER as a nurse. Her name's Megan. We're often mistaken for twins. She mostly works at Northwestern downtown, but she sometimes picks up shifts elsewhere.

"I think she's seen us a number of times. She's very good at her job and nice."

"Yes, she always wanted to be a nurse."

Aramis has a hand on the doorknob when he stops and turns back. "I feel like I should apologize for my attitude during this session. It really is nothing to do with you. As I said things have been off with my friends lately and while I was going to find a therapist, they got to it before me."

"It sounds like they're concerned."

"A bit smothering at times."

"Perhaps as you make progress it'll ease and things can start to go back to normal."

"Perhaps."

"Remember, if you need to have a session before our next one, give the office a call and we'll see what we can do. In the meantime, work towards your goal for the week. Any questions?"

"No. None that I can think of." Aramis thanks her and they say their goodbyes before he leaves to meet up with Porthos in the waiting room.

"How'd it go," Porthos asks as they walk back to the car.

"Fine."

"What'd she say?"

"Weekly sessions."

"Anything else?"

Aramis sighs. He thinks about Leslie's comment that Porthos getting him the appointment was a sigh he cared and on his own, he knows this. Porthos has always been there for him even when he didn't always know what to do. On the surface, though, is anger because Porthos has seen him at his worst, helped him through the worst, and still, he hadn't trusted him.

"Nothing more," he says not wanting to get angry simply because Porthos cared.

Fortunately, Porthos lets the conversation drop there. He senses the tension and doesn't want to get into an argument. When they get home, they find Athos and d'Artagnan eagerly awaiting. Before d'Artagnan has a chance to ask anything, Athos steers them into the kitchen.

"Dinner before any questions," Athos says. "Other than, how're you two doing?"

"Fine," Aramis says grateful that Athos understood the need to not be pressured. He knows that d'Artagnan cares but the eagerness to question is off-putting.

"Good. Roads are clearing up nicely," Porthos says.

"Good. The rest of work went easy too. No new breaks, but I think we're coming close." Athos then turns their attention to figuring out their dinner. Aramis is quiet during the negotiations but does give his two cents where needed. They send in their order to the restaurant and soon Porthos and d'Artagnan go out to pick it up, leaving Athos and Aramis to get the table set and wait.

"So, you're close to cracking the case," Aramis asks. He knows that Athos has purposefully left their work in silence, so he can set the conversation.

"Well, we're not there yet, but d'Artagnan does have a good idea and we've been talking it out."

"Well, hopefully, you can get somewhere with it. I'm sure Treville would be relieved to have it finished." Aramis pauses, looking down before meeting Athos' eyes. "I'm sorry that you're a man down. I wish I could be there to help."

"I wish you could too and not just because we could use your knowledge and work, but it would mean that you weren't depressed again."

Aramis nods, not quite settled on how to respond.

"Are you doing okay? I know that first meeting can be jarring with unexpected questions and realizations."

"You mean that this is all happening again?" Aramis can't help the dejected tone.

"I'm sure that it seems like that's the case, but it's not. This isn't like your other times. Not even like the first one."

"Right, it's worse," Aramis cuts Athos off.

"It's not worse, 'Mis. You're on top of it. You know what's coming. What to expect and how to deal with it."

"Do I? I apparently don't know what to do seeing as you all are taking things out of my hands." Aramis' voice rises as he speaks.

"We're just trying to help," Athos says.

"Yeah, I know. I'm just seeing things wrong. Seeing something where it's not," Aramis drones on. The door to the garage opens and they can hear Porthos and d'Artagnan talking as they enter. "I'm not very hungry," Aramis says suddenly. "I'm going to head upstairs for a while." And he leaves, just as d'Artagnan comes into the den to let them know that the food is here.

"What happened," he asks Athos, who is left sitting on the couch.

"It wasn't you, d'Artagnan."

"Did he get mad again?"

"In a manner of speaking. He's frustrated because he's going down the same route again and it's not a pleasant path."

"But he's getting ahead of it by going to see a therapist, isn't he?"

"It all takes time and willingness from the participant. Aramis resisted therapy even when he needed it until he found the right person," Athos explains.

"This means what?"

"It's probably going to get worse before it gets better," Porthos says from the doorway.