Evening My Lovelies

Look! I'm keeping my upload schedule for once!

This chapter is a little filler-ish but things will happen soon promise!

Notes On Reviews:

Issai: Thanks for the review - It's okay, I'm just happy to hear from you whenever you have time/the inclination to review :D Haha yeah when will people learn not to anger the musky's :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

beeblegirl: Thanks for the review - Fortunately for the red guards he won't be finding them just yet... I have plans for them though :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - I'm looking forward to that too! :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

pallysd'Artagnan: Thanks for the review - It definitely wasn't a pleasant experience for our lovely Athos and is DEFINITELY going to torture the poor man's mind for a while. Enjoy the new chapter! x

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

Love you all!

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter Thirty-Four: Working Together

Whilst it had fully been Athos's intention to return straight to his brothers' sides and attempt to make amends for his recent actions but those plans were quickly put on hold when a thought… and sound struck him.

A quick glance at his surroundings reassured the musketeer that no-one had heard the surprisingly loud growl from his stomach moments earlier although it was then that he realized just how long it had been since he had eaten, too wrapped up in worry and guilt to notice the other demands of his body.

It was also then that Athos realized that if he was starving then his brothers were likely as well, he knew the men well enough to know they would prioritize other things over seeking out food.

With a small nod to himself Athos then changed directions, heading instead towards the church's kitchen, he knew he was no expert chef but years of going out on missions were they would often find themselves away from the comforts of inns and taverns meant that all of the inseparables knew how to cook up at least a few meals.

The silence that greeted the swordsman as he entered the small church kitchen struck the man as odd and put him on edge as he slowly made his way into the room. Places such as this were usually awake with the sun so by now there should have been someone bustling about in front of him and the fact that there wasn't only heightened Athos's paranoia about the whole location.

"We need to move as soon as everyone's able," thoughts the musketeer gravelly before he allowed his tense frame to slowly relax as he moved to seek out what supplies the church had on hand, a small smile tugging at his lips as he spotted the ingredient to make oatmeal in the church's pantry.

It certainly wasn't the extravagant meal his brothers and friends deserved after all they had been through but it was quick to make and would be warm, something he was sure the men would appreciate.

True to his reasoning it didn't take the tired musketeer long to rustle up a large pan of oatmeal along with several bowls and spoons. He made quick work of moving the supplies to a trolley used by the church at mealtimes to bring the food to the communal dining area before steeling himself for his brothers' reaction to his reappearance and leaving to head towards them.

In the musketeer commandeered room the men were working frantically to save Fredrick's life. Once Tristan had cleaned off the worst of the blood coating the unconscious man's skin the severity of his injuries became even more obvious to both trained medics. He and Aramis shared a worried glance, neither willing to truly voice how dire the injured man's condition was before they each launched into their own tasks.

Aramis has decided to push through the pain of his own injuries to work with Marin to create as many poultices and draughts as they could with the supplies they were able to find in the church's stores. The young red guard was clearly nervous, not having experience with the work he was now being tasked to complete but Aramis had to commend the man for the determination and willingness he showed the task.

Talbot had been tasked to tear up the many sheets and cloth they had found into strips to be used as bandages as their growing list of injured men had gravely drained their supplies of actual bandages. It was a menial task that did little to pull the man's thoughts away from the fear and worry plaguing him for his two injured companions, though it did allow him to get a little of the anger out as he tore at the cloth.

Porthos, knowing he would be more of a hindrance than a help to either medic had elected to ensure the men had a steady, constant supply of both warm and cold water, making many trips to the well on the church's grounds to keep up with the demand.

By far the most taxing and difficult job was left to Tristan who after struggling to see which wound needed attention first had simply jumped straight into tending to his latest patient, methodically working to clean the unconscious man's wounds whilst also wrapping those he wasn't working on to help slow the blood still flowing from the man injuries.

Athos's return had come as a surprise to the men in the room but that paled in comparison to the swordsman's own surprise at seeing the state his men had fallen to in the time since he had last laid eyes on them.

Knowing the food could wait for now Athos moved the trolley out of the way before moving to Tristan's side, catching the man's tired eyes and asking silently what he could do to help, having more finesse and training than Porthos.

The gratitude in the younger man's eyes sent a stab of guilt through Athos's heart as he realized that with Aramis as injured as he was it had fallen solely to the assistant physician in front of him to deal with the many injuries most of the men were now sporting as no one else in the group had the training to be of any serious help besides menial tasks such as fetching supplies.

Still, the younger man said nothing in response to the overwhelming frustration and pressure he must be feeling and simply handed Athos another set of tweezers before returning his attention to his work.

Shame once more flooded the swordsman's system but he was quick to push it down and unwrap the wound closest to him, knowing it would potentially hurt the injured man more to have multiple injuries worked on at once but given the man's grave state the focus was on keeping him from death over keeping him comfortable.

In the hours that followed the group settled into a quiet, determined rhythm as they worked as one to save their fallen comrade and friend, the room practically silent as they worked, the only sounds coming from their patient and the occasional instruction or comment from one of the medics.

So fixed their focus was that they all, even the inseparables, missed the moment D'Artagnan's eyes shot open as a silent scream tore its way from his throat.