A/N- *Shows up four years later with a Starbucks latte, designer sunglasses, and a golden retriever*
Hi guys. So it's been a minute, huh? Wow, goodness. I wanted to thank you for reading this. I never forgot about this story; it's always been my intention to finish it, but whenever I tried it genuinely never worked out. I feel so, so bad for leaving you guys like that. Life happened, but here it is. Here WE are because this is it. I've finished the story, and I am so thankful to everyone who has ever read, commented, favorited, left kudos, and everything in between. It's been a hell of a ride. Please enjoy.
(More notes at the end).
"I'm going to be okay," he whispered to Constance's sleeping form, leaning over and kissing her cheek. "I'm just going for a walk with Athos." She stirred, attempting to heave herself into a sitting position. D'Artagnan laughed, and placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on her stomach; her swollen belly made a lot of things difficult for her now, with simple movements quickly escalating to the top of what he knew to be her very long list of things she hated about being pregnant.
"Is he outside?" She murmured, giving in to the soft blankets and her husband's light kisses.
"He is," d'Artagnan said. "I can bring him in if you want confirmation for yourself."
Constance shook her head, pulling the blanket to her chin. "Uh uh, I believe you. Just don't wake the girls."
D'Artagnan snorted, heading towards the door. "Sweetheart, we both know they aren't asleep yet, but I'll tell them to let you rest."
"Whatever," was her response. Lack of sleep, combined with parenthood and late stage pregnancy made her grumpy; he knew better than to hold her clipped words as a slight against him. She might have said more, but the rest of her reply was absorbed by their bedroom door.
Carefully, d'Artagnan crept upstairs to the room his daughters shared. Cracking open the door revealed one of the most welcome sights a father could ever hope to see. For the first time in months, the twins were asleep at a decent hour. Looking from one sleeping face to the other, d'Artagnan rested his head against the doorframe, reveling in the peace and quiet that would soon disappear in the coming weeks with the arrival of their sibling. He grinned, making a mental note to thank Porthos for entertaining them all afternoon and quietly closed the door.
Before stepping outside into the warm night, he grabbed his hat (given as a 'get well soon' gift from Aramis and Porthos after his initial return to Paris) and his cane, which was gifted from Athos. In the beginning of his recovery, he needed to use it a lot. As it turns out, getting shot, stabbed, beaten and tortured within an inch of his life, and then turning around and fighting in a major battle days after being broken out of your own personal hell really does wonders to hinder the recovery process.
Five years have passed since his capture, and he really only used the cane now for bad flare ups which were fortunately few and far in between. Unfortunately, this evening seemed like one of those times where God, the Fates, or whoever was actually watching over him preferred him to suffer. It happened, and he had to live with it and move on. Such was life.
Naturally, Athos noticed immediately. "What hurts tonight?"
"Good evening to you too, Athos," d'Artagnan said, a little too cheerfully to be wholly convincing.
Athos gave a patient sigh, and a gentle clap on the shoulder as the two men started on their usual route around the d'Artagnan property. They fell in step on the worn paths, careful to avoid the roots and ruts that have caused them to land on their asses or faces on more than one unfortunate occasion. "Good evening, stubborn one. Which injury will I hear the most complaining about tonight?"
"My leg," was the answer he gave. While not the whole truth (because his back was aching and the stab wound near his heart was feeling uncomfortably tight again), it seemed to be enough to ebb Athos' concern for the time being. The older man shot him another worried look before deciding it wasn't the time to rehash this well-worn out argument.
"How are all your girls?" Athos said instead. A peace offering. Neutral territory that wasn't crossing any dangerous lines that have caused heartache, tears and cold shoulders spanning days (or even weeks, at one point) in the past. Talking about what he went through was hard, even after all this time. It took months to open up about the smallest details initially, and years before he gave his family the whole picture.
D'Artagnan shrugged. "Constance is ready to quit being pregnant. God, all the complaints I've heard."
Athos playfully bumped his shoulder, "Well I had to deal with it with the twins, it's only fair you get to deal with her this go around."
"It genuinely wasn't a complaint, Athos," d'Artagnan said, shaking his head with a grin. "I mean, I know how it sounded, but I'm loving every minute, honestly. Uh, and the girls, goodness! Rosalie lost another tooth, which pissed Bernadette off since they are now tied for the teeth losing contest." Athos snorted at that, waving his hand for d'Artagnan to continue. "I mean, who knew that children get mad about who is losing their teeth the fastest?"
"My brother and I had to make everything a competition growing up. As I'm sure you and your brother did too. Besides, it's not like we grow out of our childish ways. Remember that ale drinking contest that Porthos had with the recruits two weeks ago?" Athos said.
"Oh god," d'Artagnan said, wrinkling his nose and attempting to hold back a gag. They were all still finding vomit in the most unexpected places from that night; so far the winner was in the locked kitchen cabinet, splattered over poor Sarge's herbs. "You make a fairly convincing argument, I'll give you that. Remember when Aramis and Milady were both really into timing themselves to see who was the fastest at literally everything?"
"Pfft," Athos responded, shaking his head in mock horror. "That was a nightmare. She didn't let me sleep for three days during all that."
"You know, I'm not sure I ever found out who won that competition," d'Artagnan said thoughtfully. So caught up in his thoughts, he forgot to look where he was going, almost falling on his ass again. How embarrassing."I- fuck!"
Luckily, Athos caught him in time, placing a steadying hold under his elbow. "Careful. Also, Milady."
"Thanks," d'Artagnan said, righting himself. After a few moments of companionable silence, he continued. "What were we talking about again? Oh the girls, that's right. So let's see, the tooth losing contest, they've gone through seven dresses between the two of them this past month alone, and they don't want to eat their veggies or anything that even looks remotely healthy. With Constance being on bedrest, I've got to be the enemy now and force them to eat their greens. Also, Porthos came over and spent the whole afternoon chasing them around. So that explains why they're not chasing me out the door."
They both glanced back at the house reflexively, making sure he didn't just accidentally jinx them. The door stayed closed, and they started on another loop around the house.
"We certainly don't need to chase them around the woods at night again, that's for sure," Athos said, a fond smile on his lips.
D'Artagnan snorted. "Constance was so mad at them."
"And us, don't you remember?" Athos added. "Something about you promising to watch them and then you didn't, which in turn allowed them to sneak out and they both got hurt which she blamed you for because she was sick and couldn't?"
"How could I possibly forget that bit?" d'Artagnan said sarcastically. Then, "How's Anne doing?"
"Which one?"
After a second of confusion, d'Artagnan understood. "I always forget she wants you to start calling her that again. She nearly killed Ewart for using her name that time, remember?"
"Oh yes," Athos said, laughing. "I had a lot of time watching that play out, it was honestly the highlight of my year."
'Hey now," d'Artagnan scowled. "Don't speak ill of the dead."
Truth be told, he had never been fond of the man, but Athos patted his shoulder anyways, offering what little support he could to one of his closest friends.
Memories overtook the pair in the following silence.
After d'Artagnan and Ewart started their journey back to Paris, d'Artagnan knew he wouldn't be arriving home alive if he continued, already feeling another infection setting in. So he turned their borrowed horse around after several hours of tough riding, making it back to Gascony just in time to see the battle start anew.
As it turns out, the letter of surrender Louis sent with Treville was false; the entire document was blank. A lot of good and honorable men, including Treville himself, paid for that stupid trick with their lives. The battle in Gascony ended a few days after. D'Artagnan developed another severe infection, but managed to live through what Aramis affectionately called "bullheaded Gascon stubbornness". He doesn't remember much of the return home, but does remember waking up in Paris, Constance curled up next to him best she could with the twins in the way. Even though he was still fighting off infections, a fever, re-sewn stitches, and was most certainly high out of his mind, it was one of the happiest days of his life.
After the battle of Gascony was over, Ewart decided to accompany them back to Paris and petitioned to become a Musketeer. He wasn't very good at anything (and didn't have the time to learn and grow into a good soldier), but due to the shortage of men Athos had little choice but to send him out to battle a few weeks later at the express order of Louis himself. Porthos and several others accompanied him to the front lines. He died honorably, they told him afterwards.
It wasn't until six more months had passed that the French won the war, and by then d'Artagnan (who did not join the fighting after returning to Paris) was still recovering from the aftereffects of the torture on top of dealing with the newborn twins.
"Hey," Athos said, nudging his shoulder again. "What was your last question again?"
"The Queen," d'Artagnan supplied. "You were there today, right?"
"All damn day," Athos sighed, shaking his head slowly. "She's fine. Happy, even, with the war over and more successful negotiations happening between us and Spain. She still misses seeing her brother in person, but I think they're trying to arrange a face-to-face meeting within the next year or so." Almost as if it was an afterthought, he added, " and I think she's happy that Louis is dead too. Their relationship towards the end wasn't… well."
D'Artagnan gave a low whistle, gently hitting his friend with the cane. "Careful, Athos. You don't want to get hanged for treason."
Athos rolled his eyes, mock scowling. "Hey, I gave that to you, I'll take it from you too."
"You wouldn't dare!" D'Artagnan exclaimed, feigning wounded feelings. "I'm chronically in pain, the royal physician said I'll likely need this for the rest of my life."
He got a look in response. "You know damn well I'm correct in that regard."
"I do. How's Aramis?"
"You know, I wouldn't have to keep playing messenger if you would just come back into the city for a few days," Athos said, neatly stepping over a stray root.
"You know, I was under the impression that the Captain of the Musketeers gave me paternity leave due to my wife's high risk, late term pregnancy and the fact that there are already two little children constantly running around my house and we don't have anyone to watch them," d'Artagnan rebuked in the same mild tone.
Another eyeroll. "Well maybe he thinks some city air and seeing old friends would do you some good."
"Well maybe I can arrange something." They stopped walking now, staring at each other in the dark. "I do miss you guys. And I know everything is hell, what with a literal child being crowned King and running the entire country. Well, Anne is running everything for now, isn't she?" Athos nodded, and d'Artagnan continued. "I can't wait to come back and serve again Athos, really. I do miss everyone, and am grateful that you visit when you can. Life right now is just…."
"Complicated? Busy?" Athos suggested softly, tilting his head with a wry smile.
"Yes, and it's about to be even moreso," d'Artagnan sighed, then gestured over to a fallen tree. "Want to sit for a minute?"
"Will you tell me what's actually hurting you now?" Athos asked, sitting beside the younger man and slinging an arm across his shoulders, pulling him into his side.
D'Artagnan curled into his friend's side gratefully, but dodged the question nonetheless. "I missed you. When I was… alone." He ducked his head, looking at the ground, the rocks, anywhere but Athos' face. He would crumble if he did that, if he saw the compassion and worry and pride there.
Athos pressed a gentle kiss to his brother's head. "I missed you too, idiot. So much."
"Did… did you ever give up on me? Did you ever lose hope?" D'Artagnan asked softly, wringing his hands together.
Athos placed his free hand over d'Artagnan's, stilling the movement. He stayed quiet for another moment before continuing. "I didn't want to, but yes. I think, or I thought, I should say, that if you were able to come home to me, home to us," he inclined his head towards the house where Constance, Rosalie, and Bernadette were sleeping, then back towards Paris, towards Aramis, Porthos, Milady, and even Anne and the rest of the regiment were located. "You would have. You weren't a deserter, you wouldn't leave your wife willingly, and if you did have a change of heart, you would have found a way to tell her, even if you wanted nothing to do with us ever again."
"I gave up hope too," d'Artagnan admitted. "I lost part of me back there, and I don't think I've gotten it back yet. Did I ever tell you that I tried to end it? My, I mean… my life. "
"Never explicitly, but I figured that out on my own," Athos responded softly. "I know that look in a man's eye, I've seen it too many times. But d'Artagnan? Promise me something."
D'Artagnan gently let the gilded cane rest on the tree trunk, and wrapped his arm around Athos' waist in response, all the while avoiding his gaze. "Hm?"
"Please tell me if you have any thoughts of ending your life in the future. I'm not sure how often you've had them or how recently, but you have so much more to live for. Your whole life is ahead of you." Gently, carefully, slowly, Athos' free hand coaxed up d'Artagnan's head, forcing him to meet his gaze before dropping his hand again and drawing him into another hug. "I will not judge you, I will not think less of you. Aramis, Porthos, and I want to help you. You deserve the world and we will do everything in our possible power to give it to you. I love you so, so much, and as long as I breathe I will never give up hope on you again. I promise you that."
After a few moments, d'Artagnan nodded. Athos tended to have that effect on him- he made him feel safe, and protected, and like he was home.
And so they stayed like that, arm in arm. Confidants, friends, brothers, and everything in between.
A/N-
As stated above, thank you for all of the love and support I've gotten from this story; it means more than you could know. Part of my absence has to do with the fact that I am no longer an active member of the Musketeers fandom. However, should I get some random burst of inspiration for this universe I'll do my best to write it down and post it for you guys. This probably isn't the ending that you want or imagined (because it wasn't what I wanted or imagined, either), but I hope you enjoyed it anyways. All in all, I'm pretty proud of this.
I'm hoping to write more fanfiction soon, but more than likely it won't be in this beautiful, supportive world. Current interests have (unfortunately lol) swiveled back to Percy Jackson and Star Wars, so if that's your sort of thing keep your eyes peeled because I have a LOT of ideas for those fandoms. You can find me on Tumblr at thedoctorandclaraforeverandever with any questions or comments you might have!
Lastly, I know that these past few years have been incredibly hard on everyone in the world, from the COVID 19 pandemic, various wars, civil rights and the BLM movement, to crazy riots at the US capital. Like what the actual fuck? Please take care of yourselves and stay safe. Should you need someone to talk to, please don't be afraid to reach out to me, I'm not scary, I promise! I love and thank you for your support, one last time.