Sorry about the cliffhanger in the previous chapter….

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Chapter Fifty: After Much Deliberation, Part One

With a gasp, d'Artagnan's eyes flew open and his body wrenched itself back from the edge of the bed he was laying on, triggering several twinges of pain from his healing wounds.

He was lying on his bed? But…that didn't make sense.

Hadn't he just been trying to walk? Hadn't Athos left him behind without any word?

A dream.

It must have been a dream. A nightmare his overwhelmed mind had conjured up to torture him.

Shifting to lay fully on his back, d'Artagnan struggled to calm his breathing and his heartbeat, which sounded louder than a beating drum to his ears. He pressed his fingers into his eyes, before scrubbing his face with his hands, thinking about the nightmare he'd just had.

It seemed his recovering body had won the three-way tug of war after all, though his mind had certainly not completely ceded victory, and had attempted to win the overall battle while he had been asleep. Not just an attempt, but a clear triumph if his nightmare was any indication.

Images from that nightmare suddenly flashed through his mind. In the total blackness of the room, he realized it was not the same time of night or early morning as it had been in his nightmare. Afraid to be wrong, he hadn't checked yet, but he was certain Athos was still in the room. It didn't feel empty, and Athos wouldn't forsake him like that, would he?

Of a sudden, d'Artagnan could feel paranoia that Athos had indeed left him alone to fend for himself asserting itself. But in the next moment, he heard a faint whistling noise, which instantly wiped out that increasing paranoia.

He would know that sound anywhere. Only one person he knew of made that exact noise – Athos.

The whistling noise was coming from Athos's nose. At times, the older man would have difficulties breathing from his nose, it becoming clogged up enough during the nighttime hours that very little air made it through. A whistling noise would result on many of those nights.

Aramis and Porthos took great delight in teasing the older man when this occurred, saying Athos did not know how to properly snore, asking if Athos was hiding his pet bird somewhere, or some other such nonsense. D'Artagnan couldn't help but find the noise endearing, though on pain of death he would never admit to such a thought; it was reminiscent of a sound his father's nose had made when the air was full of dust during harvest times.

Hearing that whistle in that moment meant the world to him and was a great relief. Athos had not abandoned or forgotten him again.

On the heels of that sweet relief was a sense of shame. How could he think Athos would do such a thing? The man would never leave a fellow Musketeer behind when they were injured, regardless of any personal feelings for or against.

D'Artagnan had to wonder just how severely their relationship as brothers-in-arms and friends had been damaged to have his subconscious consider the possibility that Athos would forsake him in such a manner as his nightmare had outlined. Perhaps it had been something in the information Athos had imparted which had triggered the nightmare. Perhaps it had been his own insecurities and doubts which chose to surface. It also could have been a combination of, or something in between, those two possibilities. Or, it could've been something else entirely. There was no way to be certain why his mind had chosen that nightmarish scenario.

Given the whistling noise and sleep-heavy, regular breathing he was hearing, it was obvious Athos was still asleep. He had thought neither of them, with so much on their minds, would have been able to get to sleep. Apparently, he had been wrong. He was surprised his gasp, which had sounded so loud in the quiet room, hadn't awakened Athos. It seemed they both had really needed the rest.

His dream almost had him reconsidering the decision he had made regarding whether or not to forgive Athos. Could he follow through with his choice? And if he did follow through, then how would he go about it?

There had been more than enough hurt on both sides, and he did not want to add to it. Neither of them deserved that consequence of his decision, but he knew it might not be entirely avoided.

D'Artagnan began to work as best he could through the exercises that Aramis had prescribed for his legs as he contemplated how he was going to respond to Athos's explanation and apology.

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D'Artagnan had no way of knowing how long he had been awake before Athos stirred. All he did know was that it was long enough for the sky to get lighter, indicating the sun would soon be above the horizon.

He knew the basics of what he wanted to say to Athos, but not the exact words. He'd made sure to not rehearse anything, wanting to sound genuine as he said his piece. Given his chosen response, he hoped Athos would not interrupt as he knew what he was about to say would be difficult for the older man to hear.

Athos, when he had the time and was not too hungover, usually sat up in bed for a little while, which helped alleviate his congestion and ceased the whistling sound his nose made. In the dim light of the room, d'Artagnan could see when Athos rubbed his eyes and scrubbed his hands down his face. The incidental mirroring of his own recent actions elicited a slight smile from him.

Suddenly, Athos's hands had stilled in the middle of scratching of his beard. After a long pause, the hands had slowly descended to come to a rest in the older man's lap. D'Artagnan then watched as Athos's head turned his way.

It was still a little too dark to see any facial expressions, but the older man's body stiffened, indicating he knew he was being watched.

"Morning," Athos said. The word might have been uttered to a wall for all the emotion it lacked.

"Good morning," he replied, trying to not let the lack of emotion get to him. He knew it was his fault the older man was being so curt with him. "Athos, I—"

Instead of listening to anything he might have said, Athos ignored him and got up from the bed, heading towards the door.

In d'Artagnan's mind, it suddenly appeared as if his nightmare was about to come true. Athos was going to desert him and leave him alone to fend for himself. All rational thought fled his mind as he blurted, "Please don't abandon me!"

His outburst caused Athos to trip over his own feet slightly as he reached for the door handle, resulting in him missing grabbing hold of it.

Athos shifted to face him, his expression morphing in a flash from impassive to shock and confusion laced with a hint of sadness.

"D'Artagnan, peace. I promise I am not abandoning you," he said, and gestured to his state of dress. "I was just getting the bucket of water our innkeeper leaves outside our door each morning."

As the older man matched explanation to action, d'Artagnan's cheeks heated up in extreme embarrassment when he realized just how badly he had overreacted. Groaning in frustration for revealing so much, he dropped his head into his hands, allowing his hair to fall forward and completely hide his face. How was he ever going to live this down?

He heard the door close and water slosh in the bucket Athos must have retrieved, signaling to the last remnant of his nightmare-induced paranoia that the man had told the truth and not deserted him.

Not wanting to face Athos, he kept his head bowed and eyes closed in shame and embarrassment. A hand briefly touching his foot startled him enough to open his eyes, but he refused to raise his head.

"D'Artagnan…do you really think so…poorly of me that—"

The utter desolation in the older man's voice did what nothing else could've in that moment.

His head jerked up and his eyes met Athos's. "Athos, no! No! I…"

He struggled with how to explain his reaction and decided to share the details of his nightmare, hoping the older man would understand his reaction. D'Artagnan thought it only fair that he reciprocate after Athos had shared so much private information the night before.

D'Artagnan was well aware they needed to be open and truthful with each other if they were ever going to get through to the other side of their discord.

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To be continued

Next time: Chapter Fifty: After Much Deliberation, Part Two

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

Thanks for reading!