Evening My Lovelies

Look who's meeting their uploading schedule again :D I might eventually make it a habit to, you never know lol :D

Notes On Reviews:

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - I'm glad you liked it. It wasn't supposed to take the whole chapter but I got kinda into writing it once I started :D D'Art's time in the box is definitely going to haunt him for some time and cause him some problems he's going to have trouble dealing with, but our boys won't let him do it alone :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

pallysd'Artagnan: Thanks for the review - Haha yeah 15% seems about right :) The cold is a symptom but also a memory if that makes sense. Enjoy the new chapter! x

beeblegirl: Thanks for the review - It's definitely not leaving him any time soon. I'm quite looking forward to writing how it haunts him... but then I'm evil lol :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

WelshEssex: Thanks for the review - Glad you've been enjoying the chapters, always happy to hear from you whenever you get the chance/inclination :D The conversation went a different way to what I initially had in mind but I'm planning for several other scenes to follow it in the coming chapters :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

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

Love you all!

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter Thirty-Six: A Moment Of Peace

The sight of their youngest sitting up and awake was enough to have the remaining three inseparables rushing to the boy's side, much to his surprise if the look that flashed across his face was anything to go by.

"You're awake!" exclaimed Aramis, joy filling his voice and overpowering the exhaustion lining his words as he stepped closer to observe the young man with his medic eyes, unable to stop himself from checking the boy over for signs of injury or distress. "How long have you been awake?" he asked with a small amount of concern when D'Artagnan didn't respond to his exclamation other than to blink languidly.

"...A while," admitted the Gascon with a sheepish shrug, knowing he was in for it when his brothers, particularly Aramis straightened.

Thankfully he was spared a scolding for at least a moment more when Porthos cut off whatever Aramis had been about to say, "Why didn't you say anything?"

Feeling too tired to get into it with his brothers the young musketeer merely nodded weakly over to where Fredrick now rested covered in more bandages than actual clothes. Tristan sat tiredly by the injured man's side looking much like he wanted nothing more than to sleep, though he did offer his friend a sleepy smile when he saw the Gascon glance his way.

Aramis opened his mouth, likely to begin scolding the boy for remaining silent even when they were busy but Athos's restraint had finally had enough. The swordsman had been staring at his awake protege since being made aware of his consciousness. It was the first time since entering the room he had allowed himself to look at the boy, not having wanted to be distracted from Fredrick's care when the man clearly needed all the help he could get.

As such the sight of his youngest brother was now all he could focus on as memories and emotions he had buried over the last few hours charged back into the forefront of his mind with all the grace of a rampaging bull.

Unable to stop himself the swordsman strode forward, cutting off Aramis and pulling the now thoroughly surprised, but in no way complaining Gascon, into his arms, holding the boy tight to his chest as he took a moment to relish in the feeling of knowing the boy was alive and breathing in his hold.

"You're alive," he breathed, almost disbelievingly and almost too quiet for D'Artagnan to hear, although the young musketeer was too focused in enjoying the safety and warmth he felt being in his beloved mentor's hold to really process what the man was saying.

Those two words repeated many times in Athos's mind, though he only allowed them to slip past his lips the once. He had not doubted Porthos's words, knowing full well the man would not have lied about something like that but seeing the Gascon awake and feeling his breathing now as he held him in his arms made that fact all the more real for the grief-stricken musketeer.

He was beyond thankful that their brothers allowed them their moment without comment as he was loathed to let the boy go now he had him but there was something he had noticed that had him regretfully pulling away to look over his shoulder towards Aramis, though he did not relinquish his hold entirely on the boy, he wasn't sure he'd be able to do that just yet.

"Aramis he's burning up," he stated quietly, looking back towards the clearly tired Gascon who let out a noise of protest when Athos pulled further away to allow their brother access to the injured man.

As much as Aramis wanted to make a teasing comment towards Athos's actions, knowing they could all do with some levity after what they had spent the last several hours doing the medic in him held his tongue as he approached their youngest, settling himself on the opposite side of the bed Athos had claimed so as to not force the swordsman to relinquish his charge.

"How are you feeling D'Artagnan?" he asked quietly as he placed a hand on the boy's forehead, immediately feeling what had grabbed Athos's attention. The fever wasn't at a worrying level just yet but D'Artagnan had a habit of always making his illness's and injuries a lot worse than they need to be so the marksman found himself cursing the fact that the boy was clearly becoming sick, although considering he had spent most of the night trapped in a cold box underground whilst injured it wasn't all that surprising, but he tried to ignore that fact as the memory that they could have easily have lost the boy was still too painful to acknowledge right now.

"C-C-Cold," admitted the Gascon tiredly as he leaned back into Athos's hold, enjoying the warmth that radiated from his mentor, though it did little to chase away the chill he felt in his bones.

"Do you want a blanket?" asked Porthos gently, the larger man wanting nothing more than to offer some form of comfort to the clearly sick boy but he didn't want to trigger him, having been told by Aramis how the boy had fought the blanket whilst trapped in a nightmare some hours earlier.

As expected D'Artagnan immediately dismissed the ideas, violently shaking his head, not wanting anything on him that restricted his movements. He had barely tolerated Athos's embrace, it was only the knowledge that Athos would let go the moment he showed any signs of distress, along with the comfort he felt whilst in said embrace that allowed him to enjoy it without fighting the man off.

Aramis frowned at this but then remembered what Athos had been carrying when he arrived all those hours ago now. It likely wouldn't be the nicest once warmed up again but the boy had gone without food longer than the rest of them and the warm porridge would do wonders to help warm him up.

After stating as such Porthos made quick work of moving the pot containing said porridge to the fireplace in the room where be began the task of warming it up, his own stomach beginning to growl as the smell slowly reached his nostrils.

"I'll see if we've got enough to make something to bring his fever down," stated Aramis quietly, smiling softly as he saw the stubborn Gascon continue to fight sleep as he leaned into Athos's side, the swordsman apparently completely content to remain awkwardly perched on the side of the bed if it meant he didn't have to abandon his hold on the boy.

There was much Athos wanted to say to the boy leaning against his side now that they were given some modicum of privacy but he just couldn't get the words to leave his mouth. His fears that the boy would hate him when he learned how Athos had abandoned the search for him after the explosion, how he had left him to die in that box were too much for the swordsman to ignore. He knew he would have to admit his shame to the Gascon at some point, likely soon but he was determined that it wouldn't be right that second and so instead focused on enjoying the moment for as long as he could.