This chapter is not very long, as I was in San Diego without a computer all weekend. Next week's chapter will be normal length. This is a very emotional chapter, though. I hope you enjoy!

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Athos woke up to d'Artagnan's intense eyes looking down at him.

"I am not that bad, am I?" he deadpanned.

D'Artagnan's face remained solemn, no familiar smile lighting up his face.

"What is wrong, d'Artagnan?" he asked, concern coloring his features now.

"You haven't been awake for two days, Athos. I guess I'm very relieved just to see your eyes open again."

Athos, a slight frown forming as he continued to study his brother, spoke again. There was something else, he surmised.

"If you are relieved to see me awake again, why the solemn face?" he tried again in his no-nonsense tone.

Then, before d'Artagnan could respond, suddenly had a thought hit him. Knowing if his brother was happy and releived that he had awakened, it meant..."Aramis!"

D'Artagnan heaved a big sigh before answering, "He hasn't been resting easily, which he needs to do to heal."

"Why?" Seeing d'Artagnan hesitate to answer, he once more said, softly this time but no more compelling, "D'Artagnan?"

"He overheard Porthos and I talking our adversaries' target being him, and is overcome by guilt," the Gascon replied, and Athos heard his brother's own sense of guilt through the words he spoke. "You know Aramis," d'Artagnan continued. "He would give his life for any one of us without a moment's notice."

Athos responded, "As would we all,d'Artagnan," his eyes closing as he spoke.

Thinking his brother might need to rest some more, d'Artagnan started to get up, but was startled when, with no warning, Athos began to sit up, swinging his right leg over the side of the bed much quicker than d'Artagnan would have guessed he was capable of moving.

Reaching out his hands to gently ease his brother back down again, he encountered an unexpected strength in Athos, given the amount of time that he had been bedridden, that resisted all his efforts.

"Athos, you need to stay in bed," d'Artagnan protested.

"I need to go to my sometimes-stubborn brother and let him know he is quilty of absolutely nothing," Athos insisted. "He will let it eat away at him. Not only will that cause him mental pain, but it could very well interfere with his recovery. He must hear from me that he has done nothing that need cause him guilt or anxiety." Looking up at d'Artagnan, he said in a voice that bespoke both command and plea, "Help me?"

Knowing how hard it was to Athos; innate pride to have to ask for assistance, d'Artagnan said nothing else, letting his actions in lifting his brother to stand speak for him.

Once he had steadied himself, Athos, without another word, softly laid his hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder and squeezed. D'Artagnan accepted with a nod, and they made their way slowly over to Aramis' bed.

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Aramis, himself beginning to awaken from a long sleep, suddently felt movement on his bed. Not quite fully alert yet, he nevertheless reached for the dagger he usually placed under his pillow at night, preparing to try to defend himself as best he could.

When almost simultaneously, he came up empty with a way to defend himself and felt a hand start to cover his, he stiffened and tried to get up. Instantly, he felt more hands on his body, trying to keep him still. Panic, set in, his mind filling with images of dark hoods with cut-out eyes. He began to struggle, his breathing quickening from his motions.

It was then that he heard a voice say, "Aramis." Then, louder, "Aramis, it is Athos! Calm yourself, brother," Athos surmising accurately what, or who, Aramis thought he was struggling against.

All of Aramis' writhing ceased, his body relaxing at the voice of the brother he loved. Moments later, weary eyes opened at last, and beholding Athos' concerned blue eyes, he attempted a small smile,only for it to fade away when earlier remembered thougts and words came back to him.

Gazing at Aramis' now, his brother's heart filled with sadness as he saw the sadness and guilt fill the brown eyes before him.

Aramis' voice, barely above a whisper, said, "I am so sorry, Athos, for what you went...," getting no further as Athos quietly but firmly interrupted him.

"You are not to blame, Aramis."

"They wanted..."

"It does not matter what they wanted...or who. You did nothing to warrant their coming after you for."

"But we don't know why..."

"Aramis, we know you. Your are the most kind-hearted, compassionate person I have even known. There is absolutely nothing you could ever have done to warrant being hurt or killed as they obviously intended. We will get to the bottom of this matter. But for now, concentrate on healing...and I forbid you to carry ounce of guilt concerning myself, d'Artagnan or Porthos. That extends to anything that might happen in the future...to us or to anyone else. Do you understand?"

Aramis was quiet for a moment, obviously letting his brother's words settle in his mind. Then, he gave a little nod.

"Very good," Athos continued. "Now, I need another promise from you. You understand my words. But will you follow them?"

The nod was slower in coming, but then given by a solemn Aramis.

"Good," Athos said. Laying his hand upon Aramis' shoulder, much like he had done with d'Artagnan earlier, he said, "You are very much loved, brother. Never forget that."

With that, his hand moved to cover Aramis' hand, resting it quietly there. A moment later, d'Artagnan, emotions high from what he had heard, laid his hand on Athos'.

"About time you two stopped feeling guilty," they heard then, Porthos laying his large hand on top.

"One for all...and all for one," they said as one.