Aramis shuddered as he drew in several long gasping breaths, all the while watching Laurent aiming at his long-hated brother. The marksman was in considerable pain, but had long been able to compartmentalize discomfort when he had to.
Catching Athos' eyes, he said softly but clearly to Laurent, "We can take it from here, Laurent", aiming the pistol he had appropriated from Mattieu as the man remained bent over in agonizing pain from his now-broken kneecap.
Laurent, his eyes never leaving his brother, said, "He destroyed my life, did his best to turn me into what he is. He called me a weakling, worthless, and scum-his own brother. He has caused nothing but pain to decent people his whole life. He came very close to causing an agonizing death for you. He deserves to die now."
Aramis responded quietly, "You don't want to imitate him, Laurent. He is going to hang for what he has done. You don't want killing your flesh and blood on your conscience, no matter how evil he is."
"Don't I?" Laurent bitterly said. "It would be only the second time in my life that I have done something good with it. He saw to that. He's killed, tortured, robbed so many innocent people. This is for them", cocking the pistol as he spoke.
Aramis fired before Laurent could carry out an execution the marksman was sure would haunt Mattieu's brother for the rest of his life, whether he hated him or not. With pinpoint and deadly accuracy, his shot caused the pistol in Laurent's hand to fly erratically to the left, bouncing off the prison wall and firing harmlessly into the dirty floor.
Reaching the now-shaken young man in seconds, Aramis wrapped his arms around the shaking frame and held him against his own body while sobs echoed down the hallway.
Athos, whose sword was now pointed at Mattieu's throat, gradually lowered it as Musketeers suddenly flooded the hallway, quickly surrounding the downed giant with pistols drawn.
Treville strode over to Athos, taking in his disheveled and black and blue appearance.
Athos, seeing his captain's perusal, said, "I am all right, Captain. I think, however, from what I heard when this one", indicating Mattieu with a slightly disgusted look, "nearly suffocated Aramis, that my brother may have a dislocated shoulder we will need to work on."
Treville's head had swiveled rapidly towards the marksman at Athos' words. Aramis' face, despite his attempt to hide it, was now registering the pain he had been working so hard to keep in check.
D'Artagnan had eased Laurent gently from Aramis' arms, sitting the young man down against a wall and easing his head on to the Gascon's shoulder. Laurent, emotionally spent, was unmoving now.
Aramis leaned himself carefully against the wall a little further down, head down, one hand wrapped around the other arm, holding it still against his side.
Athos and Treville approached him, gently urging Aramis to lie down. He protested, saying Athos needed looking after, to which he retorted, "You will be unable to until we set that dislocated shoulder of yours", the telltale eyebrow raised when Aramis looked sharply up at him.
"Yes, I did hear it dislocated, and from the way you are keeping it still, you are in quite a bit of pain. Shall we?"
Without another word, working in tandem, Treville held Aramis still as Athos firmly took hold of the marksman's arm. In one swift motion, he yanked it back into place, drawing an agonized scream from Aramis.
Porthos, who had been busy securing Mattieu's hands behind his back with shackles, looked up startled. Seeing what was happening, he handed the job over to another Musketeer, and, in spite of his size, was at Aramis' side in seconds.
Reassured by a nod from Athos, Porthos let out a long breath before saying, "See what happens when you take off like that?! You give me grey hairs when you do stuff like that!" but his eyes told a different story. Relief and love for his brother and best friend filled the brown eyes looking down at Aramis.
"Sorry", Aramis managed, as Porthos gave his good shoulder a squeeze.
"Yeah, well, don't you go doing it again", Porthos warned him in a teasing tone.
Aramis didn't say anything, knowing his brother was just concerned about him. He sat very still against the wall to ward off the pain that moving set off in it. Dislocated bones were never pleasant, but at least they were usually easy enough to put back in place. He would have to go easy on the arm for one or two days, til it was back to normal.
The little cavalcade took it's time going back to the garrison, Treville's extra men surrounding Mattieu, in case any of his still-at-large band had thoughts of rescue attempts.
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Two weeks later, the Musketeers had managed to round up over a dozen of Mattieu's men. Mattieu himself had speedily had a death sentence imposed on him, and Laurent had been accompanied by Aramis and his brothers to see him hung after he insisted that he needed to be present for it.
D'Artagnan had talked the Constance' into renting a room to Laurent, who found a good position when he went looking for employment. He had insisted in being brutally open about his past to his potential employer. The man had been impressed at Laurent's honesty and integrity, hiring him on the spot.
Despite Louis' efforts to keep both Richelieu's death and despicable doings under a veil of secrecy, word spread through the palace and into the city. People, both the high-born in their silks and satins, and the common people on the streets of the city, didn't seem in the least surprised at the revelations of what their much-disliked First Minister had been up to.
In the taverns, there was cheering that he would no longer be giving his Red Guards carte-blanche to ride roughshod over the little people. The people also hoped that when Louis chose a new First Minister, maybe their tax burdens might be lightened.
The Musketeers, present during the revelry in one of the taverns, looked at each other.
Porthos said, "Doesn't seem like he was very well-liked", sarcastically.
D'Artagnan said, " He had always dealt with the people of the city like they were nothing. You can't blame them."
Athos quietly said, "All of the secrets collected for leverage on those from whom he wanted or needed something have gone to the grave with him."
Aramis, pulling his crucifix from under his shirt and kissing it, said, "It's never good to rejoice in death, no matter how evil a man was in life."
Porthos spoke up quickly, "How can you say that, mon ami? That man put you through agony."
Aramis responded, "I didn't say he wouldn't receive a just rewards. Only that it is for his Maker impose it. Man has taken his earthly life. It is in God's hands where he will spend eternity."
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The next day, patrolling through a very busy market day crowd, Aramis was talking as they moved.
"Laurent seems to …," breaking off his words at the same time as he took off through the crowds , hand now resting on the handle of his holstered pistol.
"What in the world …," Porthos began, beginning to run in the direction Athos and d'Artagnan were starting to run now, following as best they could the top of Aramis' head weaving through the crowd far ahead of them.
Suddenly, shrieks and panic ensued at the sound of a gun going off. If anything, the Musketeers moved quicker, concern for their brother lending wings to their feet.
The scene they beheld when they finally caught up with Aramis had them reaching for their own guns, causing the crowd, when they saw their movements, to back away further from what was happening.
In the center of the cleared-away space, Aramis had a man pinned to the ground with his pistol pointing at the side of his forehead.
Athos, speaking calmly, said, "Aramis?"
Aramis, without turning his head away from his captive, replied, "I saw him in the crowd. He's one of Mattieu's men", the gun barrel pushed harder as the man struggled to free himself", the man stopping his abortive attempt at the threat.
Athos continuing, asked, "Would you like our assistance", aware of the emotions flooding his brother at the moment.
Silence, followed by a quiet but clear, "I would be grateful."
With that, they moved swiftly to his side, Athos, seeing the play of emotions on his brother's face, laid a gentle hand on Aramis' shoulder, with Porthos and d'Artagnan securing their captive's hands behind him and pulling him to his feet. With four Musketeers surrounding him, resistance had fled the man, standing quietly in their midst.
"You do know that you might have shouted back over your shoulder 'Mattieu's man', to give us some semblance of where you were going?" Athos quietly asked him.
Aramis, looking rather sheepish now, said, "Yes, yes. I know. Sorry."
"Oh no. We would have caught up with you eventually, and either assisted you or picked you up out of the dirt", Athos responded lightly, cocking an eyebrow from under the brim of his hat at d'Artagnan and Porthos, the latter roaring with laughter, and saying, "let's get this one locked up at the garrison."
Athos continued quietly to Aramis, "It brought back the memories that haven't yet had a chance to fade away yet, did it not?"
Nodding slowly, Aramis replied, "I suppose we will be running into yet more of them in the future."
"Then, we will take them on together, mon ami," Athos said. "Let us lock this one up, and then head for the Wren later. We can take our minds off of everything for the evening."
Aramis, seeing the understanding and love in his brothers eyes, silently thanked God for them before saying, "Drinks on me tonight!"
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I've never written this long of a story before. I hope you enjoyed! I have already thought of an idea for a new fic, which will probably begin in a couple of weeks. As always, thanks so much for reading, following, reviewing. Writing has been a life-long dream of mine, and I am enjoying it immensely, thanks to all of you!