Disclaimer: I own nothing of BBC or the Musketeers, I just play with them!
Aramis felt a drop of sweat trickle down the side of his face as he and the others faced their angry fellow Musketeers. In a vain attempt to diffuse the situation, he asked quietly, "Any news of D'Artagnan?"
Bassett, who was a strong, grey-eyed, married man with two children, looked ready to kill at his question. "You have some nerve asking after him right now, Aramis." Porthos, having the quickest temper of the three, almost snapped, "It was just a question, Bassett." The other Musketeer snorted and looked up at the sky for a moment. "Ah yes, just a question. Well, where was this medic's questions when our youngest Musketeer first started showing signs of exhaustion, when he started growing thin? Or was your only concern about D'Artagnan's pretty face securing you more bedwarmers, Aramis? As long as he wasn't bruised or cut up where it could show, you could use him to secure your next night's entertainment, no worries about whether he was getting enough sleep after a few hard missions in a row?"
Aramis dropped his head slightly and Porthos stepped forward. "We know we made a mistake-"
"Mistake?" Brujon interrupted coldly, stepping forward with narrowed eyes. "A mistake is when you do something by accident... without meaning to do it and then try your hardest not to do that same thing again. No, D'Artagnan's current condition was caused by more than a mistake and you know this. You three constantly profess that you consider D'Artagnan to be your younger brother. More than that, Athos professes that D'Artagnan is his protégé; well, brothers and mentors keep an eye on those they supposedly care about. They notice when something is wrong with that person. You three look out for each other just fine but you somehow couldn't see that D'Artagnan was in trouble. And the worst part is: each of you contributed to his current condition because of your own vices." Normally, Brujon wouldn't be so bold and would be taking a risk saying what he had, but he knew that the other Musketeers felt the same.
"He should've said something." Athos muttered but Julian heard him. "Even if he had, which he wouldn't have, you wouldn't have listened, Athos. You rarely listen to anyone, save Treville and these two. And when you don't like what you hear, you either dismiss it or cut the person responsible for saying it down to size, hard." The older man's head shot up to look at his fellow Musketeer in shock. "That's probably the reason D'Artagnan's kept quiet for so long, he didn't want to deal with you, your contempt for weakness. Since Aramis and Porthos follow your stoic lead as you are the leader of your little group, D'Artagnan would've assumed that they probably would react however you would, which probably would've been to tell him to suck it up and be a man if he wanted to be a real Musketeer, perhaps? Isn't that what you're always preaching to him, shouting at him during your spars? Never a 'well done' from you, that's left to Porthos and Aramis, even though he's your protégé. Head over heart must mean something like, keep your troubles and emotions to yourself, you'll get no sympathy from others."
Athos nearly flinched. It was true, he was always telling D'Artagnan 'head over heart' and to not slow them down, to learn faster so he wouldn't be a burden. Worse, he did it in private and in public, save for the King and Cardinal's presence. And he rarely tempered his criticism with praise or told his protégé when he had improved; when D'Artagnan had been honored by the king and received his commission, it was the first time Athos had come close to smiling around the young man in months. But then Athos rallied and said, "He's used to that from me, I've never made any secret about how I am."
Many of the Musketeers scoffed loudly or openly rolled their eyes. "Yes, we all know you're exceptionally jaded. Except you would think that after two years and D'Artagnan helping to save you from a noose, you would've warmed up to him enough that you could let your guard down. But no," Julian sneered. "No, you're content to remain the stoic mentor and only claim brotherhood with the boy when it's absolutely necessary. In fact," He turned toward Porthos and Aramis. "None of you claim such unless it needs to be said or could gain you something. And D'Artagnan is not like you nor has he been with you as long as you three have been together. So, he would need such assurance by word and deed but you denied him that, so of course he wouldn't feel comfortable coming to you with his problems. Does he tell you when he's hurt except when Aramis might have time to check all of you over? No, that's obvious because of where he is right now." Julian threw his hands up in the air. "Why am I even bothering with this? Bassett, you try. I'm going to check on D'Artagnan, see if Lemay needs help."
For one quick moment, Aramis forgot Treville's command and began to follow Julian toward the infirmary. But before he could take more than a single step after Julian, Brujon and some others blocked his way. "Don't think we didn't hear what Treville said to the three of you, you're aren't going anywhere near D'Artagnan." Aramis immediately backed up, hands in the air. "Apologies. Force of habit." Brujon scoffed and said, "Yeah, right."
"I do not believe that Julian is completely right in his analysis, he is thinking with his emotions right now." Bassett began once Aramis was back where he should be. "However, he is right about a few things. D'Artagnan grew up differently than all three of you put together. His father was murdered right in front of him and he could do nothing; he had to watch his father's murderer, his people's oppressor, live and serve under the Cardinal, his new family's hated enemy. Months later, he gets his chance and his dream. Yet, you do not treat him as he deserves; I'd say that you take him for granted. Worse, I believe that you either have such a high opinion of yourselves that you see nothing wrong with what you have done to that boy... or that the boy was so desperate for a family that he was willing to do anything for the three of you once you acted like you accepted him."
Now Aramis's hackles rose. "It was no act! We do accept him! He is our younger brother!"
Bassett blinked. "Oh. Well then, if you're family... why is he in the infirmary now?!" The trio flinched at the older man's yell. "Why? Why did you take advantage of him? Why couldn't you see past yourselves enough to see that something was going on with D'Artagnan? Don't you talk to each other?"
"We didn' take advantage of 'im!" Porthos cried out indignantly. "I told Treville, he volunteered all those times whenever we even mentioned doin' anythin'." None of the men looked convinced. If anything, they looked even more annoyed and skeptical. Bassett frowned deeply. "And as I am sure Treville asked you before, why didn't you stop and think when that became more than an occasional thing? Why didn't you pay attention? I'll tell you. D'Artagnan being available to basically clean up after you was a relief and you relished not having to do those tasks yourself. So after a time, it automatically became his 'job' when he already had a full-time job as a recruit and then a commissioned Musketeer. After all, the boy messed up your team, forcing it to accommodate into being a quartet. Was this, perhaps, your unintentional revenge on an outsider for daring to get close to you after all others failed to do so? Or since he is the new, unwanted addition... his needs and wants, his demons don't matter more than your own?" In his heart, Bassett knew this wasn't the case at all but he was trying to open their eyes by being necessarily crass.
That accusation, unfounded or not, was the straw that broke the camel's back for the embarrassed, shamed trio. Porthos lashed out first, punching the nearest person he could. When someone punched back, Aramis and then Athos got involved. The noise became such that Lemay and Julian could hear it in the infirmary. Even in his delirium, D'Artagnan could somehow tell something was wrong. He opened his eyes and immediately began to struggle to get up. "Wha's... g'ing 'n...?" he slurred. Lemay struggled to keep him calm as the young man became increasingly agitated. When D'Artagnan began to mumble about getting out of bed, Lemay barked at Julian, "Go get those fools outside to calm down or he'll hurt himself! His fever's already spiking!"
Spurred by fear and annoyance, Julian grabbed his pistols and rushed outside. Feeling vindictive, he aimed toward Porthos' room window and shot it out. The shot and sound of falling glass made everyone in the courtyard freeze. Porthos stared over at his window in shock before looking up at Julian, who glared at him so hard he had to fight not to flinch. "That's enough. Next one goes to someone else's window. You're bothering D'Artagnan with this noise! If you can't keep your tempers, leave!"
Almost as once, the other Musketeers pushed and shoved the Inseparables toward the gate, getting in an additional punch or two to subdue the three so they would go more easily. Bassett helped toss Athos out and stood over the trio like an avenging angel. "Be back at dawn for your first orders in regards to your new placement, or rather your first steps toward atonement. If any of you dare to show up here tomorrow drunk, hung over or late, today will seem like a series of love taps to what we will do to you and I promise you that you do not want to test Treville further. Now get out of our sight, you have disgraced this regiment enough for a day!" The men immediately turned their backs on the Inseparables, muttering loudly about 'trash' and 'D'Artagnan is worth ten of those self-righteous fools', among other things.
The trio really didn't know what to do. But finally, Athos stumbled to his feet and grumbled, "My apartment is closest. Let's go." Aramis clung to Porthos' steadying arm, his mind wondering just how badly they had all screwed up with their fourth member if even the majority of the regiment was up in arms and ready to thrash them. "We're goin' to 'ave some work to do to repair our standin' in the garrison." The big man murmured. Aramis huffed and replied, "That's putting it mildly. I just pray that this doesn't reach the ears of the Red Guards. We'd never hear the end of it and the Cardinal would undoubtedly use it against the regiment."
Athos rolled his eyes and hissed, "Hang the Cardinal and the Guard, D'Artagnan is held in high enough regard with the king right now that whatever scorn they would seek to bestow would land fully on us three, especially if our captain and regiment's reactions become known as well. Now, come. We have much to discuss and meditate on away from prying ears. We need to figure out how to make this up to D'Artagnan once he recovers." The three limped off in the direction of their quarters for the night, hearts hurting and minds slowly comprehending what they had done to the one person in their group that they should've treated so much better.
Back in the garrison, the men's mutterings and dark faces were interrupted by the sight of Doctor Lemay exiting the infirmary. "Someone get Treville." Bassett whispered. Finally, they would have news of the Gascon, good or ill.
A/N: Hello! Well, our boys are in a predicament! If the dressing down seems to harsh, it was needed in order to let the trio know how badly they screwed up. I'm almost done raking them over the coals though. D'Artagnan will recover slowly but the Inseparables are going to have a hard time staying away from him at first! This will lead to a few more arguments, confrontations and punishments before things get better, Papa Treville and the protective regiment will show up again. But they will get better!