The Secret, Chapter 4

The night wore on and the vigil continued. Christine remained at Aramis' side.

She was startled slightly as midnight approached and he began to stir violently.

"Aramis!" she called to him, frightened by the amount of distress he was in.

"No!" he cried in his sleep. "Get away from them!"

Athos and Porthos shared a knowing look, but before either could react, Aramis suddenly lurched forward and grabbed Christine by the throat.

"Stay away from them!" he shouted, his fevered eyes scanning the ceiling, but seeing nothing.

"Aramis!" shouted Porthos as he grabbed his wrist to try to free the woman from his grasp.

"Aramis! Aramis! Stop! This is not Savoy! You are not in Savoy!" shouted Athos as he wrapped his arms around Aramis from behind and pulled him into his chest. "This is not Savoy. You are not in Savoy. You are safe. You are safe," he repeated as the marksman slowly relaxed his grip and sank back into oblivion.

Christine fell back coughing hoarsely, rubbing her throat, desperately trying to pull air into her lungs. Porthos pulled her to him and cupping her face in his large hands he whispered, "Easy, easy. It's alright. He's fine, just breathe, yer okay, just breathe." D'Artagnan ran to grab her a mug of tea that had been kept warm at the fire as Athos settled the once more unconscious marksman back under the sheets.

Porthos led her to a chair by the fire and away from the bed where she struggled to drink the warm contents of the mug. The bruising on her neck was already becoming visible as the red finger marks sprouted on her pale skin.

When her breathing had settled under the warm hand of Porthos' on her shoulder, Athos came and knelt next to her. Her eyes were aflame, but not with the fear Athos had been expecting, but with worry.

"Tell me," she whispered, her voice hoarse, her eyes flashing in anger at him. "Tell me Athos."

Athos shook his head but said nothing.

Angrily she reached forward and grabbed his wrist and placed it on her bruised throat.

"Tell me," she said coldly. "Tell me what happened at Savoy. Tell me what the significance is in Easter. Tell me what would make the man who loves me nearly choke the life from me. If you love me Athos, you will tell me. Tell me how to save him," she said, tears falling silently from her eyes once more.

Athos couldn't look away from her devastation, or at the way she had placed his hand so it now lay over the bruising on her neck.

"It was many years ago," Athos said, dropping his head, her gaze, and his hand from her throat. "Aramis was part of a failed training mission that was sent to Savoy. Porthos and I were still new at the regiment and so were held back to practice some of our more practical skills. The men were in training; they were unprepared. The Duke of Savoy was misled. He was told that the men there were part of an assassination attempt on his life – the false cover story was actually part of a plot of intrigue to protect a spy within the Savoy court. Aramis and his men were sent as sacrifice. All the men were slaughtered except for Aramis and one other, Marsac. Aramis was injured, but Marsac pulled him to safety."

Porthos growled. "He pulled him to safety then left him to die among the 20 other men left on the field."

Christine gasped. Athos nodded and continued. "We found Aramis five days later, nearly frozen, concussed and still bleeding from a stab wound to his side. Five days he had sat there, barely conscious, listening to his brothers dying around him and trying to fight the crows from feasting on their bodies. It was Easter," he finished sadly.

Athos looked up into Christine's eyes and saw her heart breaking before him.

"Five days? He was left there for five days?" she whispered.

Athos nodded. "It took a long time for Aramis to recover from that. Part of him, I believe never will."

"These nightmares…" she began.

Porthos nodded as he shifted to stand behind Athos, so he was in her sight.

"They happen occasionally. Usually when he's injured or in circumstances that resemble Savoy," said Athos.

"It's usually when he's really injured or feverish. That with the cold of that water an' the fact that it's almost Easter…" Porthos said.

"I've never seen him do that before," she said. "He looked so frightened."

Again Athos nodded. "That doesn't quite surprise me." Christine gave him a quizzical look.

"Aramis has these nightmares when he's feeling desperate and vulnerable. It's the way his mind handles his fear and pain when his body is taxed like this. Since the two of you met, I don't believe that Aramis has had a single moment where he hasn't known and felt your love for him and his love for you. The last thing he probably recalls from his injury is trying to save you from the gunshot, when he pushed you towards me in the market."

"He asked Porthos if I was okay…" Christine whispered and looked at her hands.

Porthos growled slightly and reaching forward he took her chin in his hand and stared into her eyes

"Don't," he said. "This ain't your fault. He loves you and you saved him. He's gonna pull through this. You'll see." He wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb as she gave a slight laugh and looked at the hopeful and determined look on the big man's face.

"If he doesn't…" she asked him quietly.

"Do you love 'im?" asked the brawler.

"Yes," she swallowed. "With all my heart."

"Then he will," he replied fervently. Hope ballooned in her chest at his words, and he saw the moment it took hold; saw the life return to her face and the fire burn bright in her eyes.

oOo