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Chapter Thirty-six: Seeing Ghosts

"Athos!" Aramis said as he stood. "I understand that you've just suffered a shock, but please keep your voice down. D'Artagnan needs the rest."

Athos followed Aramis's gaze over to the bed where d'Artagnan was currently asleep. Or was he unconscious? And he must be more exhausted than he thought, because he must have imagined seeing one of d'Artagnan's legs moving just a second ago. He still had no clue what had happened except that someone's blood—

He sat up and eyed Porthos and then Aramis as he asked, "The blood. Is it his?"

Aramis and Porthos exchanged a look. To his practiced eye, it seemed as if the two men were deciding who was going to relay what happened. Apparently, Aramis was elected, if the evil eye he briefly gave Porthos was any indication.

"It's not all his blood. It's a mostly shallow cut; very few stitches. The intruder—"

"What intruder?"

"If you'd shut your trap, you'd find out," Porthos said, grabbing Athos and forcing him out of the room. They were now back to where they had come from just minutes before, presumably to keep from disturbing d'Artagnan.

He glanced back to see if Aramis had followed them, which would have left d'Artagnan on his own, but his friend had not. The doors to both rooms were open, and Aramis was leaning against the door jamb of the other room, looking ready to act as both sentinel and support as needed.

"Me and Aramis were downstairs getting dinner and—"

"You left him alone?!"

"Relax, Athos," Aramis said, lifting a hand in a placating gesture. "D'Artagnan was just feeling a little…overwhelmed and wanted some time to himself."

Athos glared at Porthos. "We discussed this before I left."

"But he threatened us with animal husbandry," Porthos countered as if that explained everything.

"You know as well as we do how d'Artagnan can wield stories about his days on the farm almost better than he can a sword," Aramis chimed in before his face scrunched up in disgust and he mock shuddered.

Porthos put his hands on his hips and chuckled, "Brat knows what he's doing there, don't he?"

Athos couldn't take the banter any longer. "You left him defenseless!"

"D'Artagnan might have been alone, but he was not defenseless," Aramis said before gesturing towards the man only he could currently see. "He is the one who killed the intruder."

"We found d'Artagnan on the ground holding a knife, and the intruder dead where you saw that blood stain. No clue who he was," Porthos said before adding, "Robber maybe?"

"What did d'Artagnan say?" Athos asked, rubbing his temple at the headache that was threatening to build.

"He hasn't yet. We were a little more concerned with helping him and treating his injury. He'll tell us when he's ready and able." Aramis's attention was caught, and he left the doorway to fully enter the other room.

"The innkeeper, Gérard, loaned us the other room while this one was being cleaned up." Porthos pointed towards the drying floorboards. "We were just waiting for the floor to dry a bit more before moving back in."

Athos barely heard what Porthos had said about the rooms, because his instincts were telling him that this was not a simple robbery. The thought sent his mind theory-spinning as he considered several possibilities. Then it hit him. If it wasn't a robbery gone wrong, then the only real conclusion was—

"Porthos, where did you put the body?" Athos asked, praying what he was thinking was wrong. For, if he was right, then he had played a hand in hurting d'Artagnan all over again.

"What? The body? I'm not—"

"Damn it, Porthos! I need to see—" Athos didn't bother explaining any further, and dashed out of the room. Due to the sounds of boots hitting the wooden stairs, he knew Porthos was following along behind him.

Once downstairs, he quickly found the innkeeper, and inquired about the intruder's body. After several stops and starts, Athos eventually managed to put eyes on the dead man.

Recognizing him, or at least recognizing the features before him, Athos felt himself pale as he stood back up. He must not have been too steady on his feet, because Porthos had placed a supporting hand on his shoulder.

"You alright?" Porthos asked. "Looks like you've seen a ghost."

"You could say that," Athos replied.

"Do you know this man?" Porthos asked, sounding annoyed he didn't know what was going on.

"Yes," Athos said, then shook his head. "No."

"Well, which is it?"

"Both. And because of my dereliction of duty, d'Artagnan was hurt – again!"

"Derelic—"

Athos turned back towards the inn, ignoring Porthos's questions and pleas to stop. He knew he would have to eventually explain himself, but first he had to see d'Artagnan again. He needed reassurance his actions, or rather inactions, had not done further permanent damage to the younger man.

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Gérard, the innkeeper, intercepted the two of them when they returned, and informed them that he had helped Aramis move d'Artagnan back into their original room.

Athos tersely thanked the man and headed upstairs, while he heard Porthos offer more effusive thanks. He rushed up the stairs but, when he reached their room, he suddenly became hesitant to open the door. As much as he wanted to see d'Artagnan, he was also uncertain he was truly welcome.

A long arm reached around him to grab the door handle. "You're just as bad as he was*."

Before he could ask about the cryptic comment Porthos had just made, the door was open and he was face-to-face with a groggy-looking, but awake d'Artagnan.

Aramis turned towards them with a slightly annoyed look on his face. "And where did you gentlemen rush off to?"

Porthos jerked a thumb towards him. "Athos knows the dead guy."

Surprise erupted on both Aramis and d'Artagnan's faces while Athos said, "Porthos, that's not helpful."

"Well you do know him, or not know him, or..."—Porthos shrugged—"Actually, I'm not sure."

"As much fun as it would be to listen to you two going back and forth, I've ordered some food." Aramis pointed a finger at d'Artagnan. "Which you will eat." His friend then vaguely gestured towards both him and d'Artagnan. "Explanations can wait until after, agreed?"

"Agreed," Athos said, more than happy for the reprieve.

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To be continued

Next time: Chapter Thirty-seven: Debrief

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Story/History Notes:

"You're just as bad as he was.": A minor reference to "Chapter Nine: Then and Now" when d'Artagnan was reluctant to enter the room where both Athos and Porthos lay injured. I went with the assumption that Aramis told Porthos about the incident.

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A/N: Many thanks to Celiticgal1041 for proofing this chapter for me. Remaining mistakes are my fault.

Thanks for reading!