Disclaimer: I own nothing of BBC or the Musketeers, I just play with them!
Sorry for being late, RL interfered and wore me out but I'm back!
The news that D'Artagnan was somewhat aware now was a partial relief to the men and their Captain. Although his fever remained, Lemay was encouraged by the fact that it was slowly diminishing and held out hope that the Gascon would continue to improve if he continued to rest. But he said it was also crucial that D'Artagnan be further encouraged to recover by those around him; he cautioned that due to the Gascon's previous behavior, he would probably feel a failure for becoming sick after trying so hard to 'fit in' and be accepted by the Inseparables, by the Musketeers overall. The physical and emotional negligence done by the Inseparables wouldn't vanish overnight either; D'Artagnan would need time and support if he was to recover fully and realize the initial potential that others had seen at the beginning of his time in Paris. There was a silent agreement amongst all gathered that the Gascon would have that time and support ten-fold; he would not be pushed but encouraged, lifted up by his brothers. They would make up for the mistakes of those who were supposed to be the best of them but had instead failed one of their own.
Despite his sharp disappointment in his best three Musketeers and his own guilt, Treville had never felt more proud of his regiment. They would show D'Artagnan what it meant to be a true family, to have true bonds and people who truly cared about the Gascon. And perhaps in the doing, the Inseparables could redeem themselves and change for the better as well. With these thoughts in his head, Treville entered the infirmary to visit his sick soldier.
He quietly made his way to D'Artagnan's cot and laid his hand on the younger man's forehead. It was still overly warm but not blazing as it had been when D'Artagnan had been delirious and the young Gascon seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Almost unconsciously, Treville stroked his youngest Musketeer's damp hair for a moment before turning to Lemay, who stood nearby. "Has he been bathed at all?" Lemay shook his head. "We were more concerned about his fever before. I have sent for clean clothes and the necessary items, it will be taken care of momentarily."
"I will do it." Treville's reply shocked the young doctor momentarily. "C-Captain-!" Treville frowned at Lemay. "It is the least I can do for him right now. I do not mind." After a moment of sputtering, Lemay shrugged helplessly and left the basin of cool water and clean rags beside the bed before going to see about the clean clothes.
Treville's hands were unusually gentle as he went about the process of making D'Artagnan more comfortable. Within half an hour, the boy was clean, dressed and looked much better if still pale under what remained of his tan. Treville decided to try and rouse the boy to see if he would eat some broth or at least drink something. He gently shook one shoulder while gently patting the boy's cheek. "D'Artagnan? Hey, can you wake up for me, son?" The endearment slipped out without Treville knowing and he didn't know that it was that special word and tone of voice that reached into D'Artagnan's conscious and encouraged him to slowly wake. "Urgh, mmm... P-Papa...?" His dark eyes opened and slowly focused, causing Treville to smile. "There you are, lad. Welcome back. You had us all worried for a bit there."
"C-Captain..." D'Artagnan tried to sit up and Treville helped him immediately but the effort obviously cost the young man; he ended up leaning back against the pillows, panting with the effort and his forehead newly clammy as he fought dizziness. Treville was ready with water to help combat the dizziness of dehydration and helped the boy drink about half a dozen small sips of the precious liquid. When D'Artagnan clearly wanted more, Treville shook his head and said, "Slowly, lad. We don't want you to upset your stomach, it's still tender from the fever."
"Urgh... fever..." D'Artagnan struggled with his memory for a moment. "I wuz... sparrin'. Tired, didn't want to spar... Who did I fight...?" Before Treville could answer, the Gascon's eyes widened. "Athos!" His eyes swept the room quickly, searching for his mentor in near-fear. Treville grabbed his shoulders gently and shushed him. "It's alright, D'Artagnan. They're not here. Rest easy, they're not going to bother you."
D'Artagnan both wanted and didn't want answers. His brain was muddled from the fever and his exhaustion. "Captain, w-what is going on?"
Treville smiled slightly. "You need to have some food, so that your body can fight this fever. I've asked Serge for some light broth and fresh bread. It should be here any moment and then we'll see if you can tolerate it." D'Artagnan's feverish flush intensified slightly with his embarrassment. "Sorry to be so much trouble, Captain." Treville ignored that and he made small talk with D'Artagnan until Serge arrived with the broth. The old man patted D'Artagnan's leg with a smile and said, "Eat slowly, lad. You've been without proper food for too long and I don't want you to waste this opportunity, alright? Once you're better, I'll make you a hearty stew, how's that sound?
As if on cue, D'Artagnan's stomach rumbled, making him blush again and the two older men laughed. Since D'Artagnan was still weak, Treville helped him eat the broth slowly. Much to the Captain's pleasure, the young man managed to eat at least a fourth of the bowl and half of a small bread loaf before stopping.
D'Artagnan leaned back against his pillow and asked tiredly, "Captain, when can I go back on duty?" Treville fixed him with a stern look. "First, my young Gascon, your fever has to break and you have to be fed up a bit before going anywhere. For now, you are going to rest for quite a while and then light duties only when I say so. After you build up your strength again, Lemay has asked that you be his assistant while you recuperate, learn from him. How do you like the idea of expanding your knowledge, D'Artagnan?" The young man was obviously not comprehending the full message but he did manage a slight smile. "A-Aramis was always so good with healing, I wanted to ask him to teach me but there was never any right time to do so. I picked up some things just by watching him but all I can really know are the barest of the basics."
Treville took that to mean that D'Artagnan hadn't felt comfortable enough to broach the subject with the medic and nearly rolled his eyes. 'Sounds typical for his time with them. Yet another thing I have to yell at them about!' But he smiled at D'Artagnan and said, "I'm always in need of medics in the garrison. It will be good for you, a change of pace. A reason to be at the palace sometimes that doesn't cause you to stand hours at the King's side."
Treville's attempt at humor didn't lift the atmosphere as he'd hoped. D'Artagnan's eyes clouded momentarily and he whispered, "I won't have to be around the Queen, will I?" At first, Treville was confused and then he remembered with a pang that D'Artagnan had suffered some kind of heartache regarding the Queen's confidante; True, it wasn't right to be in a relationship with a married woman but he hated that his favorite Musketeer had experienced heartache.
"Unless she were to need Lemay specifically, I don't think so. I will see if excuses may be made for you at those times unless absolutely necessary." He could see how tired D'Artagnan was and dabbed the sweat from his brow, the wet coolness further soothing the young man. "Sleep, D'Artagnan. Let yourself heal. Let us take care of you."
Even as sleep tried to claim him, D'Artagnan mumbled frantically, "C-Captain, I'm sorry about this... Please tell the others I'll be better in no time and that I'm sorry for being a burden." Treville's heart ached as the boy drifted into repose and he gently squeezed D'Artagnan's hand to reassure him. "I will tell them..." Once he was sure the Gascon was asleep, Treville's eyes narrowed dangerously and he continued in a harsh whisper, "I will tell those three... that they have a long road before them if they wish to atone, never mind regain the respect of their fellow Musketeers. And we will make them work for it every step of the way. You have suffered enough in your short life, my boy. It is time that someone looked after you again, especially since your father, rest his soul, cannot do so." Almost as if D'Artagnan could hear him, a small smile lifted the Gascon's lips slightly and that terrible vice feeling brought on by stress and dread finally eased around Treville's heart. Yes, his youngest would be alright, eventually.