Evening My Lovelies

Yay, I FINALLY updated! I quite like how this chapter turned out and can't wait to hear what you all think of it :)

Notes On Reviews:

beeblegirl: Thanks for the review - Haha oh yeah, he's DEFINITELY going to end up with more than just a broken nose :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - Well I doubt this chapter is going to help with the suspense that is killing you :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

pallysd'Artagnan: Thanks for the review - Yay for the update emails working now :D Things definitely aren't going well for our boys, my evil side is beginning to fully emerge :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

WelshEssex: Thanks for the review - You presume correctly, I was tempted to have it one of our other OC's (who I will check back in with soon I promise) but logistically that didn't make a whole lot of sense and Glenn's starting to grow on me (curse my love and affection for all my OC's) so I wanted to give him a chance. Enjoy the new chapter! x

As always much love and many thanks for following/favouriting/reviewing/reading

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xxx

Chapter Fifteen: An Unwelcome Addition

"Wake up!" growled a voice, following up his command by throwing a bucket of water over the unconscious musketeer at his feet, a smirk pulling at his lips as the younger man let out a gasp of pain as the icy liquid shocked his body back into consciousness, bringing the pain of his head injury back to the forefront.

For D'Artagnan the pain was near overwhelming as he was partly convinced his skull was trying to break in half. Unknowingly the young musketeer let out a whimper of pain that caused the man's smirk to grow.

"Back with us D'Artagnan?" mocked a voice that barely cut through the hammering going on inside the musketeer's skull, but there was something about the voice that forced put the Gascon on edge and forced him to push past his pain and to open his eyes, something that his aching head made very clear it did not appreciate.

For a moment D'Artagnan could do nothing but scrunch his eyes back closed as the pain became too much, it was only a minute or so later when he heard an all too familiar voice talking to him that he, once again, forced his eyes open, his heart hammering almost as much as his head as he desperately prayed he was about to be proven wrong.

"Going to stay awake this time?" mocked the voice as the source knelt down before him, the smirk growing even bigger as he took in the horrified look on the musketeer's face. "We do have a lot to catch up on after all."

The desire to throw up suddenly grew within D'Artagnan but he couldn't be sure if that was because of the head injury or because of who was squatting a few inches away from his face, smirking at him.

"...Rochefort."

"Explain. Now" demanded Athos as he stood next to Fredrick, a frightening scowl on his face as he tightly gripped the pommel of his sword, trying desperately to ignore the bloodstained pauldron and pocket watch that were lying innocently in the box not far from him.

He had recognized the pauldron instantly, it would have been hard not to given how proud he had been when its owner received it and the watch… The watch he remembered Treville asking his opinion on when it drew near to its soon-to-be owner's birthday.

The blood staining both items had shattered whatever hope the swordsman had been desperately clinging on to since realizing D'Artagnan had been late returning from his patrol but, despite as much as he wanted to fall apart, Athos knew well enough that doing so wouldn't help either man right now, so he forced that desire down as deep as he could get it, allowing his fury to take its place.

"Very scary," mocked Audric tauntingly, quickly letting out a grunt of pain as Fredrick tightened his hold on the man. "It is as I said. There is time enough to save your friends if you act now… well friend, only one of them is going to make it out of this alive."

"I'm glad to see your head injury hasn't dampened your memory," jeered Rochefort as he gleefully watched the injured Gascon struggle in his attempt to hide the extent of pain he was feeling. "I was beginning to worry my man had hit you too hard, wouldn't want you to die too early now would we?"

"You're behind all this?" asked the Gascon, internally wincing as he heard the pain underlining his own voice. He, like any musketeer, knew the former red guard Captain was observant enough to pick up on any subtle clues that might give him an edge and his own subconscious show of pain and vulnerability was not something the man would miss, nor was it something he would ignore.

Unable to help himself Rochefort patted the boy's head, hard, smirking once more at the small groan of pain that escaped the Gascon's lips. "You'll have to be a bit more specific there D'Artagnan, there's a lot going on right now."

This sent a surge of panic through the musketeer and he so dearly wished to question it, but he knew that was likely why Rochefort had said it… to provoke a response. So instead of giving him even more satisfaction the young musketeer continued with his earlier question as best he could given the pain shooting around in his head.

"A… Concerned… Friend," muttered the Gascon, gritting his teeth as yet another wave of nauseating pain ricocheted through his skull.

To make matters worse for the young man, his question appeared to amuse the former red guard as he burst out in laughter, the sound only increasing the pain in D'Artagnan's head.

It took some time for Rochefort to calm down but when he did he couldn't help but smirk knowingly at the young musketeer. "I'd hardly call me a friend of you and your pathetic regiment… No D'Artagnan I am not the author of those lovely letters… merely someone who's going to benefit greatly from their existence."

He could see the confusion on the Gascon's face and took a moment to relish in it before taking pity on the injured man and continuing his explanation.

"Your author reached out to me, offering me a chance to get revenge on your regiment whilst witnessing the potential deaths of at least two of its members."

D'Artagnan stilled at that, his eyes frantically scanning his surrounding for the first time since his rude awakening some time ago, desperately searching for the second musketeer whose life Rochefort was threatening, the boy being no way naive enough to think himself excluded from the man's threat.

It took a bit of doing given how his vision was still suffering from the earlier blow to his head but eventually, they locked onto a slumped form in the corner of the room. Seeing this Rochefort also turned, grinning at the sight, knowing that it was highly unlikely the boy had missed the pool of blood slowly growing around the slumped figure's form.

"I wouldn't worry too much about him D'Artagnan," mocked Rochefort, the dark edge to his voice once again setting the musketeer on edge as he attempted to appear unaffected by the pain and fear currently flooding his system.

"And why's that?" he asked, almost instantly sure he was going to regret that.

"His end will be… kinder than yours," admitted the former red guard with a sneer, his hatred for the musketeer coming through in his voice as he pulled out a cloth from behind him, pausing as he held it inches away from the Gascon's nose and mouth to add, "Word of advice? When you next wake… try not to panic, it'll only make it worse."

That was the last thing D'Artagnan heard as he cloth was pressed firmly against his face, the chemicals on it quickly sending the terrified musketeer back into the world of unconsciousness.