Aramis gradually came awake, head still fuzzy and his body lethargic. Blinking several times, his vision sharpened, the first thing he saw was his injured brother's still form across the room.
The same sense of panic he had felt earlier overwhelmed him, his mind thinking, 'my brother needs me, and I've been sleeping away.' With that thought filling his mind, he tried lifting himself up, only to be filled with lightning bolts of pain and collapsing back onto his bed.
Taking a few deep breaths, he tried something else. Slowly, so slowly, he maneuvred one leg to the edge of the bed, where he halted for a moment to rest. Then he pushed on, his body protesting his every move as he steadfastly attempted to ignore as much of it as he could.
It seemed to take forever, but finally the leg fell over the side of the bed. His progress giving him just a little more energy, his other leg followed the first one, til both feet were flat on the wooden floor.
Attempting once more to lift himself, his body screaming its protests at him ever louder now, he forced his way up despite it, nearly passing out as the room swam dizzily around him once he became at last upright.
Waiting a moment while some of the lightheadedness passed, he haltingly began setting one foot in front of the other, gradually reaching the side of Athos' bed.
Looking down at his sleeping brother, Aramis could see how pale he was, the dark circles under his eyes. 'He went through this torment to protect us,' he thought, silently vowing to heal him from what he had been through. Raising an increasingly shaky hand, he laid it softly on Athos' head, smoothing the hair back from his forehead.
Standing upright once more, he looked around the room for medical supplies. But there, his luck ran out, as an overwhelming blackness overtook him, collapsing over his brother's prone body to lie unmoving.
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D'Artagnan came back into the room and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him. The tray he had brought back with him filled with food dropped from his hands, its contents strewn everywhere.
Porthos, the clatter having penetrated his deep sleep, sat up abruptly, looking around to see what was the matter. D'Artagnan was directly in his line of sight, but he could see the shocked look on his brother's face, prompting him to follow where his eyes were fixed. When they had, he shot out of the chair, and he and d'Artaganan both reached the bed in seconds.
Gently lifting Aramis off of Athos and cradling him in his arms, Porthos carried him back to his own bed, lying him down softly. Checking his pulse, he was relieved that it seemed the same as before they had all fallen asleep. He glanced down and saw no telltale signs of blood around the bandages, so he once more covered his brother with his blanket
'What were you thinking, mon ami?' he silently asked. 'Should have known you would try something like this. We're going to have to keep a closer eye on you,' ruffling his brother's hair fondly as he chastised him.
Meanwhile, d'Artagnan, seeing that Porthos had settled Aramis back in bed, began to check Athos out, finding everything still the same.
He had just finished straigtening his pillow and covering his brother again, when Athos said in a barely audible voice, "Aramis?"
D'Artagnan said, "You're awake?" in a surprised voice.
"Obviously," came the droll reply. "Aramis?" he asked again.
"Decided that, barely awake and in much the same shape as you, you wouldn't survive without his skills, and somehow made it as far as your bed before collapsing on you," d'Artagnan replied, unknowingly having the same exasperated fondness in his voice as had been in Porthos' thoughts a moment before.
"Is he all right?" Athos asked, and Porthos responded from the other side of the bed, "Hard head. We should have figured...," before Athos finished, "Aramis was just being Aramis. Hard-headed perhaps, ...but he loves us." After the excitement, Athos was falling asleep again.
Porthos and d'Artagnan looked around and sighed, seeing the mess littered everywhere on the floor from the tray. They looked at each other with eyebrows raised, and Porthos said, "Well, it won't clean itself," earning a grin from d'Artagnan.
When the food had been removed, Porthos told d'Artagnan, "Keep an eye on these two. I'll go see about replenishing the food." Seeing the look beginning to form on d'Artagnan's face now that it was quiet again and he had time to think, Porthos said, "No, i wasn't your fault. They were both asleep. I was asleep but would have awakened if there had been much noise. Aramis is just very quiet on his feet. Always has been. You have nothing to blame yourself for, d'Artagnan." Giving him a long look to make sure he understood, d'Artagnan slowly nodded his head, and Porthos turned and left the room.
He had barely been gone a minute when Treville came through the door. "Porthos said there was some excitement while I was gone?"
D'Artagnan said, "I don't know if I would call it that exactly. Aramis woke up and decided to take care of Athos himself."
Treville responded, "He didn't..."
"He sure did," came the reply. "He got as far as Athos' bed before passing out 0n top of him."
Treville shook his head, but a fond grin lit his face. He knew his medic would always place his brothers ahead of his own well-being. It's just how he was, a part of his very being.
"I suppose you already know to watch him like a hawk then?" he asked, and d'Artagnan nodded, and they sat in companiable silence awaiting Porthos' return.
Later that night, after Treville had ordered his men to rest, he sat with a sleeping Aramis, with one eye on Athos.
Around midnight, Aramis began moving restlessly, his head moving from side to side. "W..why?" His movements were gradually becoming more agitated, and Treville, concerned that he could break open the wound on his side, grabbed his shoulders as as gently as he could, trying to hold him in place. This only caused Aramis to become more frantic. He muttered something Treville couldn't make out at first. "L..leave him alone! Y..you animals! H..he's my b..brother...h..he's.."
Treville realized that Aramis' nightmare was about Athos' torment at the hands of his captors. They all knew that the nightmares often came when Aramis was either injured or ill, so they should have expected one now. But what they couldn't have foreseen is his reliving something he himself had not been present for. Even though he himself hadn't been there to see it, Aramis' imaginative nightmare was, unfortunately, giving him a vivid picture of how it may have happened, and it was tearing the medic apart.
Aramis became more frantic in his nightmare. "Athos! Don't do this! Don't sac...rifice y...yourself for...Athos!" sobbing now, Aramis could see something making him frantic.
There was nothing further Treville could do to prevent the pictures in Aramis' mind to play out, so he gathered his Musketeer into his arms and held him securely, as a now-awake Porthos and d'Artagnan joined him, hoping the nightmare left him soon.
It went on for what seemed forever to the friends gathered around him, but finally, he began to become more calm, until he finally stilled, his head resting against Treville's shoulder once more in sleep. The captain and his men could only look at each other in deep concern at what Aramis had experienced, fervently hoping it would be the only nightmare he would be put through.
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The leader of the hooded men met again with their employer in the dark, underground room, the latter highly incensed that they had thus far failed at the job they had been hired for and paid very well to carry out.
"Do I have to do everything myself?" he sarcastically asked. "What am I paying you for, and I might add, paying you far more than you seem to be worth?"
The other man didn't seem to be in the least afraid of the very powerful man to whom he spoke now. "We will finish what you hired us for, Your Eminence. When we do, you will be very pleased with the results. The quarry has just slipped through our fingers for a short time, but not for long."
Then his employer surprised him with a new twist to his instructions.
"I have decided on a different...ending to our enterprise. When our...how did you call him?...quarry is caught in your net, he is to be brought to a location I shall then name. I find that I wish to be present for the ending of his pathetic little life. Do not disappoint me yet again," turning on his heel without another word and walking away.
The hooded man, now perplexed, wondered what that ending would be. Then he decided it didn't matter. As long as they brought him who he wanted, their purses would be filled with enough coins to keep them living comfortably for a very long time.
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It was early evening when d'Artagnan, sitting with Athos, began to become apprehensive. His brother was developing a temperature, and moaning softly. Fearing an infection, he called Porthos' name, keeping his voice as low as possible, both for the two injured men who were asleep, and for Treville catnapping in the corner of the room.
Porthos rose and came over, saying, "What's wrong?"
"I think he might be developing an infection, Porthos."
Porthos' expression turned to intense concern, and he said, "Why is the nearest village for shelter that we could reach the only one without a doctor?" just stopping himself from kicking a nearby bucket in frustration.
Lowering his voice still more, d'Artagnan said, "I'm as frustrated as you are,Porthos, but there's nothing we can do about it now. And we need to keep our voices down so Aramis..."
"Is...Athos worse?" a half-awake medic asked in a worried voice. Porthos signalled to d'Artagnan that he would handle it. Moving over to Aramis' bed and taking his hand, he teased, "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"
"I heard you, P..Porthos." Trying to clear his sleep-muddled mind, he frowned. Then,his eyes grew very round, saying, "He said in..infection! Athos!" again trying to push himself out of bed.
Porthos took him by the shoulders and easily and firmly pushed him to lie flat again. But Aramis was growing panicked for his brother, and squirmed, trying to get free. "Achill...!" he cried. "Has to have...," but he was no match for Porthos' strength.
Treville, awake now, said, "Aramis! You are in no cond...," but Aramis, his eyes wide with tears forming at the corners, said, "You d..don't under..stand. Achillia!" he said again, still struggling feebly to go to his brother.
Treville tried another tactic, asking him, Achillia? What is achillia? For infection?"
Aramis' eyes latched onto his captain's face, hope blooming now. "Achillia mill...," he said, but confusion spread across their faces. Aramis' eyes saddened as he saw that they didn't understand him.
Treville tried again. "Aramis, we don't know..."
Another voice weakly spoke up. "Aramis, wh..what is it?" Athos said.
Knowing Athos spoke Latin, as many noblemen did, Aramis' face registered hope again. "You need achillia millafolium," finally getting the words out.
They all turned to Athos, hoping he could enlighten them with what could help him if he did indeed have an infection beginning.
"Yarrow, a plant with small yellow flowers that ..I've seen growing by water," he told them.
D'Artagnan said "I'll go ask at the tavern and see if any grows around here," leaving as he spoke.
Aramis turned to Treville again, asking, "Captain, may I stay with Athos, please?" his voice pleading now.
"I don't think..."
Aramis interrupted. "I will sit in a chair. I will just stay quietly by him. I need to be able to watch h..his symptoms. I will f..follow your ?"
Treville knew when he was defeated. The pain in Aramis' voice spoke volumes about how much he loved his brothers, and Treville couldn't get the nightmare he had heard Aramis going through, as well. "IF...and it is a big 'if' you do exactly as your brothers and I say when you are out of your bed, you may sit...I repeat...sit by Athos. If you need anything, for him or for yourself, you are to ask one of us to get it for you. Understood?"
Aramis, his eyes exhausted but shining now, "Yes, Captain!"
Treville just hoped he wasn't making a huge mistake, but the tired joy in his soldier's eyes warmed his heart.