Two weeks later
Aramis walked into the garrison to see D'Artagnan trying to feed fran and Thomas, which wasn't going very well, Thomas had food all around his face and Fran was throwing food at Alex who looked pale and withdrawn.
God Aramis felt for the boy, the oldest, the closest to his mother, but the one who took her for granted, D'Artagnan was right, the guilt was eating away at Alex. Aramis walked over to Alex, and asked him to come for a walk.
"Hey kiddo, how are you doing?" He asked, Alex turned to him, with anger burning in his eyes. He pushed Aramis, "how do you think I am, huh, my mama is dead, and I didn't love her, I pushed her away, because getting cuddled by mama in public was too cool, so Aramis you tell me" Alex shouted the last part, which caught his dad's attention.
D'Artagnan saw Aramis take Alex for walk, but what he didn't expect was to hear Alex shout at Aramis and push him hard into a wooden beam. Running over to his eldest, he pulled Alex away from his friend and told him to calm down, it wasn't working, Alex was full on panicking now. Tears were rolling down his son's face and he was pulling his brown hair out.
D'Artagnan took Alex's hands and squeezed them comfortingly, he then turned him around and locked his arms around, Alex's middle, Alex seemed to relax at his father's touch, D'Artagnan relaxed when he felt his son surrender, he placed his chin on Alex's head and said soothing words to him.
Porthos watched the whole scene from the balcony, he'd never seen Alex like this, he'd never seen him cry or scream or anything. He remembered the boy from when he was younger, playing with his wooden sword and laughing until he fell asleep in his mother's arms. He definitely didn't expect him to have such anger, but then he was the spit of his father.
Aramis, pushed himself away from the beam, rubbing his head, he didn't expect that. But what he didn't expect was to hear a gut wrenching scream, mere seconds later.
He knew that sound, it was Alex.
D'Artagnan thought that Alex had relaxed, but then his son screamed, so loud in his ear, d'artganan actually fell backwards. The scream was full of sorrow and grief, that it made him cry, he quickly bundled Alex into his arms and held him tight, wanting to stop the grief, the tears. But he couldn't, the tears kept coming, and coming until Alex just collapsed into his fathers arms, unconscious from grief. D'artganan carefully picked his son up into his arms and carried him to his and Constance's bedroom, it still smelt of her sweet perfume, placing the covers, gently over his sons's body, he shut the door.
Athos sat on his bed, three letters in his hands, if he couldn't explain his situation in words, then he'd do it on paper. He folded the letters in half and made his way to the garrison. As he approached he was surprised to see D'artganan outside, head against the wall, crying. Aramis with a sleeping Fran in his arms and Porthos quietly playing with Thomas, he couldn't see Alex.
He made his way towards D'art, the man didn't even look up from where his head was placed, he probably didn't even notice Athos sitting beside him, until Athos cleared his throat. D'artganan sighed and said "what do you want?". Athos quietly handed him the letter and got up and handed both the letters to Aramis and Porthos. "I'll leave you to it then" Athos said, and he left the garrison to go and see his girls.
D'artganan took the letter into his office and sat down on the bench and opened it.
Dear D'Artagnan,
How do I sum up these past years to you, my friend. Let me start with Sylvie and I. We were happily married and we had three beautiful children. But heaven couldn't allow me that piece of happiness, the fever raged through our village and killed my beautiful wife and our first born and only son Pierre. I was overcome with grief and I could not stay, so I sold the house and little land we had, and bought a modest flat in Paris, near the market and the parks. Anne and Charlotte love going to the market and playing in the park, the new surroundings have made them slightly more happy than they were in Gascony.
I know that I've not been a good brother or uncle to you or your children. But I regret that I did not write to tell you that I'd moved, I had to think of my children, their happiness is my job. If I fail that, then who am I.
I'm here now, in your time of need, god I wish Constance had not died, I wish that you were not feeling the incredible pain that I've felt. For your children to lose a mother, especially Thomas, who is still so young.
D'artganan you are the strongest man I know, the most kind hearted and hot headed man I know. I have no doubt that you will do your absolute best as a father and uncle. Your children are strong and kind. You will get through this, and you will be stronger for it.
I'm sorry that I haven't been there, but I'm here now and forever my brother, always.
Athos
D'artganan slammed the letter down on the desk and ran down the stairs, grabbed his horse, saddled up and made his way to the market. He knocked at every door until, an old woman opened the door, saw his pauldron and let him know where Athos was. He entered the flat and saw Athos standing there with Anne on his shoulders. "D'Artagnan" he exclaimed.
Carefully putting Anne down and telling her and Charlotte to go downstairs, he motioned for D'artganan to sit down.
"I'm guessing you read my letter" Athos said. D'artganan didn't say anything he just swept Athos into the strongest hug ever, murmuring sorry every now and then, then Athos felt the familiar shivers and sobs that came with uncontrollable grief.
"Let it all out D'artganan, the children aren't here" Athos whispered. And so D'artganan cried and cried and cried until there weren't any tears left to cry.
The evening turned into night and as the birds song ceased, Alex, Fran and Tom still slept soundly in their mother's bed. Their father nowhere to be seen. Aramis and Porthos sat in the armchairs by the fire, waiting for D'artganan to return. They'd all read the letter Athos had written them. The guilt was overwhelming, they way they'd treated him, was awful.
Aramis had to admit that their brotherhood was broken. Two of his brothers had lost wives and one even a child, God's most precious gift. Aramis silently made a promise to god, that if this pain ended, that he would try his hardest to fix this broken family.
Aramis was awakened from his thoughts by Athos, bringing in a clearly drunk and grieving D'Artagnan, the poor man was hanging off Athos, Aramis could make out tear marks on his cheeks and bruises on his knuckles. Athos guided D'art to the bed and made sure he was comfortable then, sat down himself on the stool.
Porthos broke the silence, "I'm sorry Athos, about everything." He said. Aramis sighed and turned towards Athos. "Mi amigo, I'm sorry, lo siento." Aramis said.
Athos smiled and forgave them by handing them a glass of wine that he'd snuck out of his flat.
"The girls are asleep, being looked after by my wonderful landlady" Athos answered the unspoken question.
"And if you're wondering where d'art was today, he was crying in my arms, apologising and punching walls" Athos also said.
Porthos sighed, "he taken up using the wall as a punching bag, it's not doing his knuckles any good, but I don't have the heart to tell him to stop, he's grieving, he needs to let it out in some way." Porthos said, with a heavy heart.
"Gentlemen, I think we need some sleep, so let's retire to bed and reconvene here in the morning" Athos said, he got two tired nods in reply and so he made his way out of the room and walked home, a warm feeling in his heart and a weight off his shoulders.