Author's note: What? Another chapter so soon? Yes, I figured I would post the next one since these two chapters are short and not much happens….. but they do set up the main plot. More pieces start to trickle through about Aramis' past.

Chapter 5 - talk

They ate their supper in relative silence, definitely not what Porthos had imagined when he had planned this outting. Athos still remained silent around other people, the old habits and fears creeping back whenever they were in public, but to most strangers it barely showed. He had improved greatly but his shoulders still tensed when someone walked by their table, his broken arm folded under the table out of view. Aramis filled the silence with constant chatter about school and girls and anything else that came to mind, even though neither Athos nor Porthos seemed to be listening. Despite his outwards nonchalance, Porthos knew him better.

This was how Aramis acted when he was trying to convince himself or others that everything was fine. Porthos however saw how his eyes wandered to the door every time it swung open, how he watched the movement in the restaurant and even the way he seemed to act as a human barrier for Athos when the waitress came by.

All these things Porthos had known before but since Athos joined their little misfit family, it seemed that Aramis was more on edge than before. It almost seemed as if the teen had taken it upon himself to protect Athos but from what, he wasn't so sure.

Every once in a while Porthos would add in a comment when the teen would prompt him, the other doing his best to coax him into joining the otherwise one sided conversation. Eventually he stopped, allowing the older man the simmer in his own thoughts.

When they finally made it back home, both Aramis and Athos were nearly demanding an explanation for his detached mood. Figuring there was no way around it, and that he preferred telling Athos sooner rather than later since he had no idea when the lawyers would call, he guided them to the living room couch and gestured for them to take a seat as he tried to find the right words.

"What if he says no," Aramis barely whispered after Porthos had recounted his early conversation with Captain Treville. "They can't force him to do something he doesn't want to do."

Porthos knitted his fingers together to keep them busy, balancing his elbows on his knees while the entire apartment was plunged into silence.

He had no answer; no words to calm or reassure both boys sitting in front of him. This was beyond his control since Athos was legally in the care of child services. "I'm going to ask Dr. de Laroque for her opinion and see what she thinks."

His attention shifted to the small boy sitting in front of him, "what do you want to do Athos?"

Athos sat perfectly still on the edge of his seat, his gaze focused on a point past the older man. He had yet to say anything or make any reaction what's so ever. Beside him, Aramis' fists clutched tightly at his knees, his arms shaking and his knuckles white as he worked to control his emotions, no doubt wanting to lash out at something or someone.

When Athos' gaze finally met the older man's, a piece of Porthos' heart broke at the sight of those wide blue eyes brimming with tears.

Acting on instinct, Porthos closed the distance between them to kneel in front of the couch, wrapping his arms protectively around Athos' shacking shoulders and pulling him into his chest, wishing to be able to shield the small 5 year old from everything.

"It's alright Athos, I'm right here, we're right here," Porthos spoke softly while he held the child close. "We're not going to let anything bad happen to you." Athos finally melted into Porthos' embrace burrowing his face in Porthos neck, much like he did on the first night they met.

Porthos chanced a glace towards Aramis, wanting to know how the teen was holding up.

Aramis hadn't moved. He was still sitting on the couch next to them, his hands fisted at his side and his hard gaze fixed straight ahead. "How can you say that to him when you're not doing anything to stop them." The teen's voice was low and void of any emotion.

"Aramis, I can't break the law," Porthos replied calmly, fully aware Athos was listening to every word, even those unsaid. He recognized the shift in the teen and was no stranger to the emotional outburst that was sure to come with it. "You know I'm doing everything I can. What else would you have me do?"

"Run," came Aramis' disconnected reply. "Take Athos and runaway somewhere no one knows and they'll leave him alone."

Athos pulled back from Porthos, his sharp gaze scrutinizing the profile of Aramis' face as he whipped the tears from his own cheek. Even he had noticed the change. It was obvious that Aramis had slipped off from reality, trapped somewhere in his memories and Porthos was just now realizing how much this was happening lately.

When the teen had first moved in, these dissociative episodes where common but over the years, their frequency decreased. But since Athos moved in, things started spiraling again.

"This isn't Porthos' fault," Athos whispered, trying to catch the teen's attention. Aramis continued to stare ahead, his mind millions of miles away. "Aramis." Carefully, Athos leaned closer to the teen, his hand extending towards one of the balled fists until it closed around the white knuckles.

Aramis jumped slightly at the physical contact, his head whipping around to face the small child as his eyes worked to refocus on reality.

"Aramis, this isn't Porthos' fault," he repeated, waiting till the teen nodded in understanding. With one shaky breathe, all the fight seemed to leave the teen and he hunched in his seat.

Sensing the new shift, Porthos reached out a hand to firmly grip the back or Aramis' neck, before pulling him in and incorporating the teen in his protective embrace. And Aramis let him.

"Sorry Porthos."

Porthos could feel Athos shifting closer to the teen, and he pulled back a little to allow the child more freedom.

"It's alright 'Mis," Athos reassured, sounding much older than five at the moment. Aramis pulled his chin up to be able to look into those blue eyes. Slowly, Athos untangled himself from Porthos' grasp to wrap his small arms around Aramis' neck, and hugged him tightly.

Porthos couldn't stop the tears that spilled down his cheeks at the sight of the two boys sitting in front of him. Not knowing what else to do, he simply wrapped his arms around the pair and held them close.

He was cold.

He was very cold.

His head felt light and heavy at the same time, but he couldn't focus on anything. It was an odd sensation; one that he couldn't quite describe. Staring around he saw only darkness except for the mist that formed from his breathing. He knew it was late and he should hurry home before mamá began to worry.

He tried to stand but his legs wouldn't listen. He stared blankly at the limbs in front of him, unable to connect his thoughts.

A hand on his arm jerked him out of his daze, and his ears were suddenly filled with screams and gunshots.

He fought as hard as he could against the hand on his arm. He didn't know what was happening but he knew he needed to run. Whenever it felt like he was breaking free, more hands seemed to be holding him back.

"NNNOOOOOOOOO!"

Porthos heard the screaming and was instantly running down the hall towards the boys' shared room. Aramis was thrashing about on the bed, clearly trapped in throws of some nightmare. The teen continued screaming and mumbling in his sleep as he fought with the blankets twisted around his torso.

Glancing around the room, he found Athos backed against the dresser as if he had just jumped out of bed. He was breathing heavily and his casted arm was wrapped around his ribs while his gaze was fixed on the teen.

"NOOOOOOO, POR FAVOR NO!"

Porthos quickly moved to grab both of Aramis' shoulders, intent on waking the teen from whatever hellish prison his mind had conjured.

"Aramis, wake up." He continued to shake the teen gently, noticing how Aramis seemed to be struggling against his hold. "ARAMIS!"

The teen's brown eyes flashed open just as his left fist swung outwards, connecting hard with Porthos' jaw, and sending the older man sprawling backwards in surprise.

Aramis huddle against the headboard of the bed, breathing erratically and blinking rapidly trying to make sense of what he saw, clearly not fully awake yet.

Porthos massaged his jaw, trying not to imagine the colorful bruise that will no doubt form come morning. Athos still hadn't moved from the other side of the room, his eyes still glued to the teen.

"'Mis…" Porthos stopped as Aramis nearly leapt in surprise, his wild gaze finally landing and focusing on the older man. "Aramis," Porthos tried again before attempting to move closer. Finally he could see recognition dawning in the teen's features.

"Porthos."

"Yeah, just me," the older man reassured him as he took a small tentative step towards the bed. "Bad dream?"

His attempt to lighten the tense mood failed miserably and so he shifted his focus to the small boy across the room. Athos was still breathing heavily and his arm was still wrapped around his midsection.

"Athos?"

Porthos made his way around the bed, keeping his movements slow and deliberate for everyone's sake, his worry increasing by the boy's breathing. Damn his ribs.

"Are you alright?" Athos nodded shakily watching as Aramis' clambered down from the bed and sinking to the floor next to Porthos, also alarmed. Slowly, the older man pulled Athos' arm away from his ribs, relieved to see at least his breathing had calmed.

Porthos slowly lifted the edge of Athos' pyjamas shirt to inspect his side, making sure the wrapping was still in place. It had been three weeks and his cracked ribs were healing well but there were times when he would catch Athos wincing when he moved too quickly.

After a quick check, he was glad to see no serious harm was done, finally letting go of the breath he didn't know he was holding. Throughout all of this, Athos' attention was entirely focused on the teen.

"I think it's best I sleep on the couch," Aramis barely finished before dragging himself to his feet and trudging out of the room. Athos made to follow but Porthos held him back.

"He just needs a little time to himself. He'll be fine in the morning," Porthos explained. He did his best to keep his own uncertainty from his voice but he could tell that Athos wasn't entirely convinced. "How about I tuck you in and then I'll go check on him."

Finally he nodded and allowed Porthos to help him back into bed, taking great care to untangle the blankets and straightening them out. It took some time for Athos to get comfortable, no doubt his ribs were going to be sore tomorrow as well.

"Do you want me to read you a story?"

Athos nodded, and Porthos retrieved the kid's old book from the dresser. Aramis read him the story every night and every day when Athos came back from school, he would check to make sure the precious item was where he had left it.

Porthos had barely started the third page when Athos finally nodded off, his soft snoring filling the silence. Slowly and as quietly as he could, the older man eased himself off the mattress and replaced the beloved book atop the dresser.

He wince as the door squeaked as he pulled it shut, making sure to leave a large gap so the hallway light could filter through the dark room. When he was confident Athos hadn't woken up, Porthos then made up his mind to go check on the teen.

He wasn't hard to find.

"I don't want to talk to anyone," came the sullen response from the couch before Porthos could even get close enough. He had expected this. Aramis was curled on his side, facing outwards and refusing to turn to face the other man.

Porthos grabbed the blanket from the chair and draped it over the teen, softly padding his leg as he turned to head back to his room. "Good night 'Mis. You know where to find me if you need to."

When Porthos woke in the morning, he was surprised to see the sun was only starting to clear the top of the nearby house, indicating that it was still early in the morning. Normally not an early riser, he laid back fully intending to get a bit more sleep after the restless night the all had, but the sweet smell of coffee pulled his tired mind into focus.

Next came the awareness of a slight throbbing of his lower jaw. Right. Porthos tentatively felt the sore skin but was happy to note that it wasn't that bad after all. That will be one less things on Aramis' guilty conscious.

Knowing he still needed to talk to Aramis, Porthos figured this would be the best time to do so before Athos woke up. Tiredly he pulled himself from the warmth of the covers and headed down the hall, passing the empty bedrooms on his way.

"Good morning! Sleep well?"

Porthos blinked back at the teen, his brain not yet awake and not entirely prepared for this change in mood from last night.

"Here, I made you coffee. It's decaf so Athos can have some too," Aramis continued without hesitation. He ushered the older man into a chair beside Athos and returned to his task at the stove. "I'm also making pancakes for everyone."

Porthos watched in surprise as the teen busied himself making pancakes, stacking the freshly made one on an already growing pile. Looking over to his right, he could see Athos' plate was piled high with pancakes, more than the kid could possibly eat, and there was an untouched cup of coffee sitting next to a full glass of orange juice.

From Athos' expression it was clear the five year old was worried. Even he recognised this behavior as odd and worrisome. Deciding it was best not to try and lie to Athos about how "everything was fine", Porthos instead turned his focus back on the teen, who was currently taking out toppings for the pancakes.

"Aramis," Porthos picked up the jar of strawberry jam the teen had just put in front of him, "where did you get this jam from?" Neither Porthos nor Aramis had ever been toast and jam people, and so this was just something they never bought. Looking around, he started noticing things he could have sworn they didn't have in their pantry yesterday.

Aramis continued pulling things out of cupboards and laying them out on the table like an elaborate banquet. "I bought it this morning. I thought maybe Athos likes jam," he explained non-pulsed.

That meant that Aramis had gone grocery shopping sometime between last night and this morning. A bunch of mental red flags went up as Porthos continued to watch the teen busy himself around the kitchen. Though he was cheerful and smiling like he normally would be, the older man could see cracks had appeared in his well-worn mask.

"Aramis."

Porthos was so lost in thought he had completely forgotten about Athos sitting beside him.

"Aramis," Athos continued once the teen stopped to look at him. "I have to go see Dr de Larocque next week,…" he paused making sure to give Aramis time to understand, "and I wanted to know if you could come with me."

Both Aramis and Porthos turned to stare at the youngest member of their new family. For days Porthos had been trying to find a way to bring this up in conversion without pushing the teen away. He waited hesitantly for Aramis' reaction.

"She's a psychiatrist," the small boy went on, his attention wholly focused on Aramis as the teen started fidgeting with the towel in his hand. "I really like her and she's really nice. When I go see her we talk about stuff and sometimes she asks me to draw her pretty pictures. She helps me understand things. Will you come with me and talk to her too."

Aramis hadn't moved, except for his hands that were twisting and untwisting the hand towel. Slowly, his gaze scanned the small kitchen, taking in the mess and the disorder he had created and then the elaborate meal he had prepared for them this morning. Porthos could see the moment something clicked in the teens mind as he sunk into one of the chairs next to Athos.

For years, Aramis had gone about his business, doing what he had to do to survive, but always alone. The freedom of knowing he didn't have to answer to anyone had given him a sense of security and confidence, but now looking around him, he finally saw what the others saw; someone who was not dealing with his problems well and was trying everything to hide it. Like the stack of pancakes, he had always just piled things on top, hoping to eventually hide how he really felt; what was at the bottom of the pile.

Meeting Athos's steady gaze, he nodded; fully aware that Porthos was watching his every move. "Okay, I'll go with you," he agreed quietly, his voice sounding tired and exhausted.

Please let me know what you think. And yes Athos goes to school. I did have a thought about how to work it in but forgot to do it and now the moment has past. At this point I don't think I'm going to go back and add it in, sorry.