The Secret, Chapter 2
"Marie! I need my medical kit," shouted Christine as she and Porthos burst through the kitchen doors. "Porthos, put him on the table," she instructed as she poured boiling water into a bowl.
Aramis' breathing was ragged as Porthos lowered him on the table and continued to apply pressure to his chest. He grabbed the brawler's arm, eyes wide in panic.
"Christine," he panted, "Is she –"
"She's fine! She's fine, brother! Calm down," he said, trying to soothe Aramis to ease his breathing.
"I'm fine, love, I'm right here," she said as she flew to his side. Marie entered the kitchen shaking, a leather satchel clasped in her hands. Taking it from the woman, Christine instructed the cook to steep certain packets of leaves in the boiling water, the scent of which soon filled the room.
Porthos began removing Aramis' doublet as Athos entered.
"Aramis," said Christine, placing her hand against his face, the other one replacing Porthos' to maintain pressure on the wound, "You've been shot. The ball is still in there. I'll need to clean the wound before I can remove it," she said calmly. Aramis locked his eyes on hers and nodded his understanding. She kissed him quickly and went to work.
"Athos, Porthos, I need you to hold him down," she said, as she brought a bowl of the herbal water forward. Athos and Porthos stood at Aramis' shoulder and legs and prepared themselves. Christine quickly began to pour the hot water over the wound and wiped it with a clean cloth, her eyes filling with tears as Aramis' body lurched away at the pain. Porthos and Athos held tight when the marksman's body stilled. Christine hesitated only long enough to register that Aramis was still breathing before reaching for a sharp blade she had bathed in the boiled water and a long thin pair of tweezers.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" asked Athos, only once.
She glared at him and he went silent at the look in her eyes. Strength and pain, battled with love and fear, the same emotions he knew were in his eyes; she said nothing, but set to her task.
The entry wound had pierced Aramis on his left side, just below his collarbone. As she carefully widened the entry and entered the forceps into the wound she sent up a prayer. A few inches lower and the bullet would have pierced his heart.
Her brow furrowed as she manipulated the instruments. Her hands were slick with Aramis' blood as she began to slowly withdraw the bullet. It was nearly out when her fingers slipped and the tweezers fell from her hands with a gasp.
Hastily wiping his blood onto her skirt, she deftly inserted her fingers into the chest wound and pulled out the ball, dropping it in the now soiled water along with the forceps and the blade.
Immediately, the wound began to bleed again. Athos grabbed a towel and put pressure on the injury. The trio barely registered the ease in Aramis' breathing or the fact that D'Artagnan had entered the room.
Christine made ready to clean the wound once more and Aramis', rousing slightly, instinctively struggled again against the cleansing water as it was poured over the wound. When the strong clear alcohol followed, Aramis screamed in pain, his body arching away from the table so violently, it was all Porthos and Athos could do to hold him steady. He went still suddenly, driven back into oblivion by the pain and again, Christine's hands flew to his throat to ensure that her love still had a pulse.
Taking a deep breath, she looked into the concerned blue and brown eyes of Athos and Porthos and nodded. From behind them, D'Artagnan let out a whoop of relief which jostled the two musketeers. Christine gave him a small grim smile as she began to sew the wound closed.
She tied off her last stitch, her hands now shaking and Porthos' big hand enclosed hers. She looked up into the big brown eyes, full of love, fear and determination. He nodded at her, lost for words. She smiled at him softly, not quite ready to give voice to the results of her work.
"We should get him out of these wet clothes and into a bed," Athos said softly.
Christine nodded. "You should bring him to my chamber," she said. "It'll be good for him to be in a place he recognizes if he wakes up…"
Porthos grunted as he carefully lifted Aramis' unconscious form from the table. Athos and D'Artagnan followed, leaving Christine alone in the kitchen.
oOo
An hour later, Christine was still in the kitchen. She stood leaning against the butcher-block table where she had gathered the bloodstained cloths that had been discarded, staring at the blood that still coated her forearms and much of her dress. Her maidservant, Marie, silently led Athos back into the kitchen. Christine looked up at him with dead, hollow eyes and he sucked in a breath at the sight of her despair.
Going to her, he put his arms around his friend and she collapsed into them.
"Christine!" he said urgently, "What's wrong? Tell me, are you alright?"
"Aramis," she whispered and stared at her hands. "It's his Athos. His blood," she whispered in a voice so beaten it nearly broke his heart.
"Come," he said. "Aramis is resting now. You were able to remove the bullet. You saved him," he said.
She shook her head. "He stepped in front of me," she whispered. "I did what I could, but…I just don't know Athos. He lost a lot of blood. If that doesn't take him, a fever might…"
These things Athos knew and were nightmares he too was battling. He took her hands, covering them with his own, hiding the blood from her sight and looked into her eyes, his torrid oceanic eyes gazing into the storm clouds of hers.
"You have done everything you could to save him," he said. "I have never been more proud of you."
"But if he doesn't wake…"
"He WILL," he said. "He will. Aramis would never give you up so easily now that you've found each other. Have faith in him," said Athos.
Silent tears streamed down her face, which she brushed away angrily.
"Mistress…?" called Marie, hesitantly from the door.
Christine made to stand but swayed dangerously on her feet. Athos scooped her up into his arms and she curled in against his chest.
"She needs a hot bath and clean clothes," said Athos as he led the way out the door. "Get rid of this dress. Don't let her see it."
oOo