D'Artagnan's point of view is continued in this chapter.
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Chapter Forty-nine: Deliberations
Occasionally, d'Artagnan could hear the rustling of Athos's bedcovers and the creak of the bed frame as the older man shifted position once again. For him, the expert at feigning sleep due to his bouts of insomnia, it was easy to tell that Athos was having a difficult time settling down for what was left of the night. Athos was restless, but trying to pretend he wasn't.
To some degree, d'Artagnan felt guilty for his part in why Athos was having a difficult time getting back to sleep. The Gascon recognized how extremely difficult it must have been for someone as private as Athos to explain the reasons behind his actions. He could easily imagine how difficult a time the man was having in keeping himself from reliving the unearthed memories over and over again.
Of course, d'Artagnan had not made things any easier by abruptly ending their conversation when things got too overwhelming for him. He wouldn't be surprised if Athos was thinking his explanation and sincere apology had been outright rejected. An effort could be made to correct that misconception, but he didn't think it wise to attempt such a thing before he could finish processing everything he'd heard. He needed some more time, and hoped Athos would understand when they next talked.
Since they had said their good nights, he had only moved once in order to shift into a more comfortable sleeping position. As with many other nights, he began regulating his breathing to imitate one who was asleep. He was fairly certain Athos was convinced he was out for the night.
His insomnia was trying to reassert itself, but his recovering body was fighting for the rest it sorely needed. However, there was also his mind, which was in turmoil, and didn't really care about sleep one way or the other. Thus, within him, there was a three-way tug of war to see which would win. Deciding there was no point to staring out into the dark room, he closed his eyes.
D'Artagnan had lost count of how many times Athos's tale had gone through his mind since he'd first heard it. The same could be said for how many different emotions he'd felt. He wasn't even sure he could name all of them, since some, like jealousy, had come and gone in a single beat of his heart.
And really it didn't matter, because he still felt overwhelmed by it all; he needed to focus on trying to get his thoughts in order. At the forefront of his thoughts were two questions that had been swirling in and around the whirlwind within his heart and mind:
Could he forgive? Should he forgive?
He knew how his mother would answer that second question. She had been a firm believer in forgiveness; it was one of the few things he could still remember her teaching him before she had passed away.
In some ways, before the man had even begun speaking, d'Artagnan felt he had already started down the path towards forgiving Athos. And, since returning from completing their mission, Athos's actions had been demonstrating the older man was on a path towards repentance. Neither path was an easy one; they were both long and winding, both full of obstacles and stumbling blocks. In seemed inevitable that they were destined to converge, and over the past day, they had.
Forgiving Athos did not necessarily mean he had to condone what had been said and done to him. It didn't mean he had to forget the wrongs committed against him. His dented self-confidence was certainly not going to forget anytime soon.
If there is true repentance, then forgiveness is a must, his mother had said more than once. In his heart, he truly believed that Athos was repentant, sorry for every wrong perpetrated against him. Knowing that, how could he in good conscience withhold his forgiveness?
His mother had also taught him that forgiveness was more about you than the other person. It freed you from the weight of the resentment and anger which rested upon your shoulders. Holding on to all the negativity had done him no good these past weeks, and he no longer wanted it entrenched in his mind and soul. Perhaps if he forgave, then he would be better able to concentrate on regaining the ability to walk. Perhaps it was time to make peace with how Athos had treated him when not in his right mind.
Whether or not their friendship could be restored to how it was before the amnesia was another matter entirely. Forgiveness did not necessarily mean their friendship would suddenly be as it was before that one bullet had changed everything. The man's memories had returned, and Athos seemed willing to do be there for him again, but the wounds inflicted upon him, both physical and emotional, were still too raw, too fresh. He was having a difficult time trusting Athos would not forsake him again.
Trust was another issue. He implicitly trusted Athos with his life, and he trusted the older man would remain steadfast in helping him regain his ability to walk. However, he wasn't anywhere near as certain he could ever trust Athos with his heart going forward. All the little digs, slights, and unfair treatment of the recent past were still rattling around in the forefront his memories and were still too fresh for him to be willing to let the older man know even half of what he was thinking about at the moment.
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D'Artagnan hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he had opened his eyes to discover it wasn't quite as dark as it should be for the middle of the night. Rather, he thought it wouldn't be too much longer until the sun rose above the horizon.
His mind drifted, thinking about nothing in particular. For the moment, his mind was at peace, something that was more than welcome after the last time he had been awake.
All too soon, Athos's tale, and how overwhelmed he had felt after hearing it, had intruded upon that peace. It was not quite the tempest it had previously been, but his heart and mind were still too full. Yet, he thought he knew what he wanted to do and say in response to Athos's apology.
Slowly, he inhaled and then exhaled, listening to the relative quiet surrounding him. That's when he realized it was a little too quiet. From below, there were the sounds of the innkeepers readying things for the day. Outside the room, there was the occasional short refrain of birdsong. Inside, apart from his own breathing, he could hear nothing.
Against the sound of his quickening heartbeat, he strained his ears towards the other side of the room – and heard nothing. Now paranoid and unable to stand it any longer, d'Artagnan laboriously shifted his body, always most uncooperative first thing in the morning, to a position where he could check on his roommate.
He found an empty bed.
And not just an empty bed, but one that looked as if it had been left only moments before. The bedclothes were drawn back and rumpled, but most importantly, no attempt had been made to straighten them out, which was something Athos was in the habit of doing when they stayed at an inn. With a quick glance around the room, he realized Athos was not present, and he felt oddly bereft as a result. He thought it a little too early for Athos to be out and about, but supposed the man might have had trouble sleeping and had already made himself ready for the day. However, an increasing sense of paranoia had him reaching for and lighting the candle on the bedside table.
It took his eyes a moment to get used to the light after the candle ignited. When his eyes had adjusted, d'Artagnan shone the light towards Athos's bed. What he found – or rather didn't find – started him towards panic.
Athos's book was gone. The book missing from the table wouldn't normally mean anything, as the older man could've put it away. It was the fact that there seemed to be nothing in the room which indicated Athos had ever occupied it other than the rumbled bed. No clothes, no weapons, no saddlebags. Carefully, he sat up and extended the candle as far as he could so that its light could reach the farthest corners of the room. Not a single item which belonged to Athos was revealed.
Athos was gone.
He'd been left behind.
Athos had left him alone without one word of warning. Had left him behind and forgotten him. Abandoned him yet again.
He had truly thought Athos had changed, had wanted to fix things between them, but he had been wrong. So very, very wrong.
His descent towards true and all-encompassing panic was swift. His hands were shaking so badly, he had to quickly put the candle back on the table for fear of dropping it. As it was, it was a near thing it didn't end up on the floor. The semi-irrational thought that a fire could have started, and he would've been trapped in bed, filled his heart with fear.
His heart was beating so quickly he thought it would burst through his chest to escape. It had started to become difficult to breathe.
He was trapped in bed! How was he supposed to ever leave this room, ever walk again, without help? He would lose everything.
No.
He had already lost everything.
Athos leaving in the dead of night without word was a clear sign he was no longer wanted by anyone. Not Aramis and Porthos, who had already left him behind. Not Captain Treville, who hadn't wanted his presence back at the garrison.
Alone again.
Please, God, not again!
The candle flame sputtered, indicating it would soon go out, but he'd barely noticed it in his panicked rush to not remain alone. Somehow he managed to sit on the side of his bed, but hesitated in trying to rise from it. Yet, he had to try, or be stuck in bed forever, withering away into a pile of bones inside a useless sack of skin.
The light flickered once again, and he looked back to see that the candle was about to go out. Having completely forgotten he only needed to wait for the sun to rise so that there would be more than enough light, d'Artagnan made an attempt to rise from his bed.
D'Artagnan barely made it to standing, he was shaking so badly. As he tried to take a step, the candle went out, leaving him falling into darkness.
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To be continued
Next time: Chapter Fifty: After Much Deliberation
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A/N: Sorry about that cliffhanger.
Many thanks to Celiticgal1041 for proofing this chapter for me. Remaining mistakes are my aching brain's fault.
Thanks for reading!
