When he woke up again, he looked around, his face slightly confused. His brothers noticed this, and Athos asked, "Are you all right, Aramis?"

Aramis, his eyes opening further, looked around, confused. "Garrison?"His brothers looked at each other, not understanding why he didn't remember where he was from the last time he had awakened.

Aramis spoke again. "Y..you ..rescued me?"

Now, they were even more concerned.

"You do not remember, Aramis?" Porthos asked.

Aramis was quiet for a moment, looking up at Porthos. Then he said, "I..I'm sorry, Porthos", his face full of sorrow.

"What do you have to be sorry about, 'Mis," Porthos asked softly, face a little confused by the words he had heard.

"I .. k..killed y..your f..friend," he said, his stuttering increasing now.

Since Aramis had been given no choice but to save his friend's life and hadn't felt guilty before, they didn't understand why he would be thinking this now.

"H..he was their fr..friend, t..too," Aramis continued. "Th..that's why th..they t..took me."

Of all the things they thought he might say, this shocked them completely.

Taking d'Artagnan aside, Athos said quietly, "Go find Dr. Lemay. Something is very wrong."

D'Artagnan headed quickly out the door, as Athos came back to Aramis' side.

"I..I d..did it..I..I k..killed him," Aramis' voice now at a whisper. He was becoming very agitated, his fingers trying grasping at the blanket, his eyes full of guilt.

A few moments later, his eyes once again closed in sleep.

They sat down at the table shocked.

They wondered if these thoughts came from his dreams. Athos had seen a soldier once who had recently been in the midst of a fierce battle where several women and children accidentally been killed. He had exhibited guilt for their deaths, even though he had not personally killed any of nonsense had his captors been saying to him? He had been at their mercy for a long time, but what could they have done to cause this reaction?

Aramis was a highly intelligent man. He was also caring and compassionate. But he didn't mistake evil and good. Charon had been a very bad man, about to blow up an entire community of men, women and children.

The men who had kidnapped and hurt Aramis had lived lifetimes of crime, probably including taking lives. They were not good men.

But the mind could play tricks. They all knew that. Doctors had yet no way of studying it, other than just observation of words and actions.

They once again settled down to wait for Dr. Lemay, but Aramis unexpectantly woke up again a few minutes later.

Eyelids blinking slowly, he gazed up at them, a questioning look in his eyes.

"W..what's wrong?" he asked.

Not wanting to go into explaining their worry, they just smiled at him.

"How do you feel, Aramis?" Athos asked him.

"Tired," Aramis responded. "Pain…," but seeing the worry coming into their faces, he added, "not q..quite as bad."

They were now seeing no signs of the feelings of guilt he had expressed a few minutes before. What was happening?

"Would you like to try to eat some more, Aramis?" Porthos asked him. "Serge told us that when we come to get you some good again, he has something special for you."

"I'll t..try," Aramis replied.

They decided it would be better not mentioning his earlier comments. But they would be watchful to see if it might happen again.

Aramis tried to eat as much as he could when the chicken soup came. He smiled when Porthos revealed Serge's surprise-a blueberry tart with cream on top. He wasn't able to finish more than a third of it, but his brothers assured him it would be there for him later if he was able to finish it, "and we will keep Porthos from stealing it," Athos teasingly told Aramis, to Porthos' dramatic denial of ever doing so.

It was a lighthearted moment they had all needed. Aramis had been able to stay awake longer than the other waking times together. He showed no trace of feeling guilty of Charon's death in the whole time he was awake.

Aramis finally had fallen asleep again, worn out from the length of time he had been able to stay conscious.

Not long after he fell asleep, d'Artagnan finally came back with Lemay.

"I am so sorry, gentlemen," he said. "I was unavoidably detained by Louis, who had a migraine. D'Artagnan has explained the situation to me as we made our way here."

Athos said, "It is indeed curious, Doctor. He awoke againa few minutes after he had fallen asleep, and showed no signs whatever of guilt at all. How can this be?"

Lemay was silent for a few moments.

"Not enough is known as yet about the human mind. There are so very many things that need study." Silent a moment again, he then asked, "Before this occurred, he was asleep?"

Receiving an affirmative reply, he then asked, "Was it a restful, uneventful sleep?"

Porthos, who had been sitting with him, said, "He seemed to be having a bad dream. He was restless, and muttered to himself a couple of times. Why?" he then asked.

"I am not certain of anything at this point, but his guilt may stem from whatever was happening in his dream….I should probably rather say nightmare. We will just have to see if it occurs again, and be extra observant when he is asleep as to his behavior. On another note. The sleep and pain medicines are working."

"Except for that time, yes, Doctor."

"We shall see. Please call me at once if it happens again. Gentlemen, good day to you. Louis believes he needs my attendance upon him with the headaches."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

D'Artagnan was sitting with Aramis late that night, hoping his brother wouldn't have any more of his troubling symptoms.

He has enough to deal with, healing from his wounds, he thought. He doesn't need his mind to start terrorizing him.

He had learned so much from the marksman. Aramis had kind-of taken him under his wing, sensing an eagerness to learn, d'Artagnan thought. And he was right. D'Artagnan knew he was eager to learn as much as he could in order to earn his commission and be an excellent Musketeer when the time came.

What he hadn't realized was how much he enjoyed learning medical skills from his brother, and Aramis had told him more than once that he picked up what he was being told or shown very well.

But I didn't learn enough to help him with this, he thought sadly. Give me another chance, he silently implored his sleeping brother. I want to be able to heal like you do, like I have seen you do countless times since I've been here.

As Porthos and Athos did when they say beside their brother, d'Artagnan, too, took Aramis' limp hand in his own. It seemed to help him. Aramis needed touch when he was sick or injured. He seemed to sense someone was with him even when he was unconscious, if that person maintained contact in some way.

I don't have the same deep faith you do, Aramis, he thought. But I am asking for your healing. You are such a good man. I'm sure God knows that, and will you bring you all the way back to us.

arly the next morning, just as they were beginning to hope that what had happened the day before might have been an isolated incident, Aramis suddenly began thrashing his arms and legs about, and began shaking his head, saying, "I'm sorry. Sorry. Didn't….."whatever he had been about to say suddenly turning into a bloodcurdling scream as his hand attempted to reach his burned leg.

"N...nooo!"