It wasn't much further downwards the shore as Athos noticed the familiar head of his friend, laying on the rough stones by the water. His upper body was out of the cold water, but his legs were still in it. It looked like he was unconscious. Athos jumped from his horse and towards Porthos, falling to his knees in the mud by his brothers side.
"Porthos." Athos breathed, his hands carefully expecting the man's head. Underneath the wet hair was a red shimmer, but the bleeding seemed to have stopped by now. As Porthos didn't seem to be awake yet, Athos decided to get him out of the cold water first. After making sure there where not more life threatening wounds, he heaved Porthos' legs out of the wet. He then dragged the heavy man into the sunshine, hoping that some warmth will do him good.
"Porthos, wake up, mon ami." Athos pleaded as he rolled Porthos onto his side, like the others always did with him when he had drunken too much. Porthos' breathing was shallow, but it was there. Athos hoped, that he hadn't breathed in too much water. Aramis had once explained that it could kill you even days later.
"Porthos." Athos urged once again. He was not strong enough to lift Porthos onto the horses back all alone, not when he was unconscious. But they couldn't stay there either. Treville and d'Artagnan were still missing and Constance was all alone with Aramis. They had to find the others and get back soon.
It was then, that Porthos finally stirred. A moan left his lips before it turned into a watery cough. Athos put a reassuring hand on his brothers shoulder as the waking man coughed out some water.
Exhausted from the ordeal, Porthos turned onto his back, his eyes fluttering open slowly.
"'Thos?" He asked, voice raspy, once he had regained enough air to speak.
"I'm here."
Porthos frowned, clearly confused how Athos had come to his aid.
"The others?" He asked and tried to sit up, wincing as the movement caused his head to pound.
Athos steadied him, eyes roaming over his friends body as he searched for something else that hurt him. "Aramis and Constance are still at the Inn. None of you three had reached us yet, so I went out to search for you. You're the first one I found."
Porthos nodded slowly. "Then let's find the others too."
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Constance awoke with a gasp as a heavy door fell into it's frame. The front door to the Inn. Aramis was already wide awake, sitting on the edge of his bed, clasping a weapon in his hands. His feet were just dangling above the ground, careful that they did not touch the wood.
Then, there was the sound of heavy footsteps, coming closer.
She gulped and took the knife she had hidden in her dress. Her knuckles turned white as the steps came ever closer, her heart beating fast. Aramis signalled to her to go into the other corner of the room, where she would be hidden by the opening door. He himself stayed on the bed, (where else should he go?), visible for whoever was coming for them. He levelled his gun at the entrance once the footsteps stopped right in front of it.
He released the safety catch, his finger twitching over the trigger.
The doorknob was turned and then the door pushed open. Aramis finger already touched the trigger, almost shooting his shot before he noticed who had entered the room. He breathed out, lowering the weapon slowly.
"Did you just try to shoot me?" d'Artagnan raised an eyebrow, a sheepish smile on his lips.
"Charles!" Once Constance noticed that there was no threat coming in, but her husband, she came out of her corner, hugging him closely. D'Artagnan sighed, breathing in her sweet scent before pulling away slowly.
"You're both okay?" He asked, just to make sure. They nodded both, but looked worried nevertheless.
"Where are the others?" D'Artagnan then asked, a frown forming on his face. He shouldn't have been the first one to arrive. After being hid for hours until the Red Guards had lost his trail completely, he should have been the last one to arrive. Unless…
"What happened to them?"
"We don't know. Neither Porthos nor Treville have arrived yet. Athos is out there, searching for them. And for you. We were worried." Constance told him, her hands closely around his arm, as if he could vanish once she let loose.
"Do you know where Athos went first?"
"Porthos, probably. He would have been the closest of you three." Aramis answered, his fingers playing with the, now secured again, weapon. "You're going after them?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Aramis wished he could help, come with him. It teared him apart, not knowing what happened to Porthos or Treville, if Athos was in danger too. He didn't like all this separating either. But it was necessary.
D'Artagnan just nodded as he shot an apologetic glance towards Constance.
"There had been four Guardsmen following me. They haven't seen me and rode back. I don't think they should be of any problem for you. But stay safe, please."
"Gods speed, mon ami." Aramis wished, before d'Artagnan left through the same door he had just come in.