A/N well here it the final chapter...this one was an emotional one to write for various reasons. Thank you to everyone for reading and for your amazing support and words. I have another one in my mind I plan on writing with my amazing friend ThorneOfAcre please read her other work! Thank you again! Enjoy!


Chapter 28

Porthos eased Aramis into the chair by the dying fire. D'Artagnan made quick work of feeding it life, aware of his shivering friend slumped a few feet away. Athos grabbed the blankets from the bed and removing the heavy black cloak from around his brother's shoulders, he gently placed the thinner, softer material around them. Stepping back he joined the other two, both of whom were watching the dejected musketeer with matching worried frowns.

"What do we do? Lucas's words they have taken away what little life we had got back. They have sent him back to whatever inner hell his mind retreats to," Porthos muttered, his voice holding the pain that all of them felt. Athos took a deep breath, before turning to look at them.

"Leave me with him," he said. D'Artagnan was shaking his head even before the words were out of Athos' lips.

"No! We are in this together Athos. We're here for whatever he needs," the youngster objected firmly, not really wanting to leave the job of consoling Aramis solely on Athos' shoulders. The man had lost his sister too, after all. Athos gave him a look.

"Go home both of you. Go back to the girls and Thomas, get some rest. Please," Athos added, smiling at the young Gascon kindly. "I need to talk to Aramis alone."

D'Artagnan looked ready to protest further but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned seeing Porthos shake his head.

"We will come back tomorrow. Look after him Athos," Porthos said, before leading D'Artagnan out the room. Athos watched them go before turning his gaze back on to his brother wondering how he was going to get him to talk.


Porthos and D'Artagnan walked into Aramis' house feeling dejected and worried about the fate of their friend. He had just started to get better and now it looked like as if he had given up once again. Heading into the kitchen Porthos pulled out a bottle of wine and some cups filling two and handing one to his younger companion. Neither spoke, allowing the silence to consume them instead, as they drank.

It was happy shouts from Thomas that brought them back to reality. As the young lad came bounding into the house his face lit up on seeing the musketeers in the kitchen and he flung himself at D'Artagnan. The Gascon caught him in his arms with a laugh and pulled him onto his lap.

"And where have you been, little one?" he asked, the smile coming automatically. It was hard to be sad and hopeless when faced with the unlimited energy of the three year old.

"We went to the market for food," Thomas replied, grinning innocently. "But we are back now so I can go see papa again," he added his blue eyes sparkling excitedly. D'Artagnan looked over at Porthos who smiled sadly. Thomas had gotten used to his routine of seeing Aramis twice a day and it hurt D'Artagnan to take that from him. He looked up seeing both Emilie and Constance enter the kitchen and he could tell by the concern on both their faces at the absence of Athos that they knew something was wrong.

"Thomas look at me," Porthos called to little boy causing him to turn in D'Artagnan's arms and focus on the older man. "You can't go and see your Papa again today. He went outside for a bit and it's made him poorly again. He needs to rest. Uncle Athos is looking after him okay? You can see him tomorrow," he explained gently.

Thomas' face fell. "But I want to look after papa! If he is sick, I'll give him a hug and he will be okay then," Thomas said, as tears started to well up in his bright eyes. Constance sat down next to D'Artagnan, rubbing the little boy's arm gently.

"I know my darling, but your papa isn't well and Uncle Athos is the only one who can make him get better quickly. You can give him your special hug tomorrow okay? You will have to make it an extra special one," Constance told him. Thomas just nodded leaning his head against D'Artagnan's chest.

"Why don't you show me what you got at the market? I am sure it wasn't just food, am I right?" D'Artagnan asked, nudging the boy in an attempt to take his mind off his father. Thomas nodded.

"I got a new book. Will you come and read it with me?" he said, turning pleading blue eyes onto the Gascon. D'Artagnan nodded, getting up keeping the little one in his arms.

"Of course I will," he agreed carrying him out the room. Once out Thomas was out of earshot the two girls turned to Porthos.

"What happened?" Emilie asked.

"Lucas is what happened," Porthos grumbled pouring himself another much needed drink and running a hand over his face. "He basically told Aramis how he had failed to avenge Marie's death, how he had failed her. By the time we got back to the garrison he had drawn right back into himself. Athos asked to be left alone with him. I think this time we needed to respect his wishes. Didn't seem like there was much we could do anyway," Porthos explained. The two girls just nodded as the fell into silence, the three listening to Thomas as he sat with D'Artagnan happily trying to practice his words.


Athos sat quietly next to his brother watching him. Aramis hadn't moved since they had got back, he had sat stock still staring into the flames. The only slight relief was that he was no longer shivering, his body was warming up from the fire.

"Aramis?" Athos said gently. When he got no response he sighed getting up and kneeling down in front of him. "Aramis talk to me please," Athos begged him. Finally after what seemed like a lifetime brown eyes met Athos'.

"I failed her... He was right, I failed her," he muttered. Athos sighed inwardly. Porthos had been right: Aramis had slipped back into the darkness, but Athos was damned if he was going to let him stay there this time.

"No you did not. Don't you ever think that! You got her justice, and that is what she would have wanted. And what Lucas said? He's wrong. That was his one last try to break you. But I'm not going to let that happen," Athos told him firmly. Aramis didn't say anything instead returning his gaze back to the fire, absentmindedly scratching at his hands.

"The blood. I can still feel her blood on my hands. I see her dead in my arms whenever I close my eyes, I hear her last words, her last breath echoing around the room whenever there's silence. I just… I just want it to stop," he pleaded, his voice distraught. Athos grabbed the musketeer's hands to stop the scratching before he drew blood. Aramis looked down at Athos' hands grasping his, realizing what he had been doing for the first time.

"Aramis please. Let us help you. This is a pain you can't face on your own, that you don't have to face alone. I have lost my brother and my sister, and I refuse to lose my only surviving family. You are the last family I have, Aramis. You and Thomas are all I have left," Athos said, his voice becoming a pained whisper by the end.

Aramis was listening intently though. "Then tell me what to do! Make this pain go away!" he cried, his eyes pleading with Athos'.

Athos felt tears make their way down his cheeks and he shook his head. "I can't do that. I wish I could, Lord knows, I wish I could take your pain on myself. But there's nothing I can do to make the pain go away. It will ease with time, but it'll never go away," Athos told him, his heart breaking for his brother's anguish.

"How long?" Aramis asked quietly. Athos shook his head.

"That brother is up to you. I can not answer that," he replied honestly. Aramis just nodded, dropping his head, his shoulders slumping dejectedly. Athos placed a hand firmly in Aramis' curls bringing him close so that their foreheads were touching.

"No matter how long it takes, you'll always have me to lean on. And Porthos and D'Artagnan too. Together, we'll get you through this, Aramis. You have to get through this, if not for your sake or ours, then for Thomas'," he told him.

"I don't think I can Athos," Aramis muttered his voice shaking with emotion, as brown eyes filled with tears. Athos sighed, wrapping his arms tightly around Aramis' and pulling him in. Aramis buried his face in Athos' shoulders. "I am just so tired," he sobbed.

"I know brother, I know. But you are not on your own, you never will be. You have my word, on that," Athos comforted holding him tightly as he cried.

After a while Aramis' tears subsided, he pulled away slightly from Athos looking up at him with big pleading eyes. "Take me to her?" he whispered. Athos frowned before realisation kicked in. He was about to object but Aramis continued to look at him earnestly. "Please take me to Marie," he begged.

Athos sighed but nodded getting up. For the second time in the day, he helped Aramis into the heavy cloaks making sure he was warm enough before the two of them made their way to the royal graveyard.


By the time they reached the grave Athos was regretting agreeing to this, Aramis was tiring, both emotionally and physically and he was leaning on Athos more and more with every passing step. Athos made a mental note about not being out for too long. He released his grip from Aramis and stood back slightly watching the musketeer drop to his knees and place a hand on his wife's stone.

"My angel. I am so sorry. I love you Marie, I am sorry…" Aramis' words failed him as he broke down. Silently, Athos knelt down next to him and held him. They sat there for a long time, Athos not letting go of Aramis for a single second.

He wouldn't let his brother suffer alone any more. None of them would; the road ahead was long but they would walk it together, like the four of them always had and always would.

If that meant that they would have to carry their brother for part of the way, they would do that too.


A/N well that's all folks...apart from a little epilogue as I couldn't quite let the story go. THANK YOU all again for joining me on this ride! Next one will be up in a few weeks and I hope you will all hop on board again!