Athos had been awake for quite a while as Treville entered the room. Aramis still slept and not even the sound of the door being closed loudly woke him up. "He took a lot," The Captain assumed and sat down beside Athos, who nod slightly. Treville looked at him worried. "You're not looking much better than him. You need to rest properly." Athos sighed, he knew that the Captain was right. The night in the chair hadn't done anything good to his arching back, still he didn't want to leave Aramis alone. The happenings of the last night confirmed that he should be watched every minute.
"Go and sleep. I can stay here for a few hours. When he awakens I will let someone fetch you, then we can talk." Athos wanted to argue, but he didn't had any reasons against the plan of the Captain. So he walked out of the room and into his own one. He fell asleep just a few minutes later.
It was already afternoon and Athos had slept at least six hours by now, as a new recruit knocked at his door. "Aramis woke up," he informed before he walked off. The swordsman got dressed again and went back to the Captain and Aramis, who leaned against the wall behind his bed. He didn't seem to be pleased to see both men together. Treville stood up and spoke first. "What happened last night can't happen ever again. We're trying to help you and you just steal from us and run away?"
Aramis looked at his shaking hands, not able to see into the faces of the men he had disappointed once again. "Now stand up and face this as a soldier!" Treville commanded. The happenings of the night had shown him that Aramis didn't need to be fussed over (maybe just a little bit), but he needed a firm hand. The marksman sighed and stood up. He held onto the wall, as it went dark in front of his eyes for a second. As his circulation had steadied and only a light headache was left he stood as straight as possible and looked right into the eyes of the Captain. He saw anger and disappointment, what he didn't saw – but what was there- was concern and sympathy. "I won't tolerate such a behavior any longer, Soldier. We want to help you, but you have to let us help. We can't force you so we give you the choice. Either you behave after the rules of the musketeers and do what you're told and let us help you or you just keep on doing what you're doing. But if you choose the second point I will have to dismiss you for forever. You won't be a musketeer any longer and you will have to leave this place."
Aramis face went pale, as he felt like he just lost the ground beneath his feet. He knew the Captain would pull this through. One wrong step and he would lose everything. He thought about the 'Choices' that were given him. It wasn't a real choice. If he didn't want to end as a beggar and homeless he had to choose the first way. "That's not quite a choice," he muttered, running his hands through his hair. It was not like that he didn't want help. He just couldn't live with the kind of help that was offered him. He just wanted to forget what had happened and live like nothing had happened, but Athos and Treville wanted to take away from him what kept him sane. On the other hand he hadn't anywhere to go than the garrison. He had no one out there, he had no other family, not another home.
"It's the choice you get to make. There are no other ways." Athos said. His heart beat fast as he waited for Aramis' decision but on the outside he seemed calm and controlled. The medic wanted to sit down, as all of this overwhelmed him, but he didn't dare with Treville standing in front of him.
"Make your decision," the Captain ordered. "You took it from me. I will have to choose the first way. I will do what I'm told." Aramis felt defeated, alone and deceived as he said it. He never had a choice, this was not what he wanted but what he had to do. The only option he had.
Treville and Athos seemed satisfied with his decision. "You will be guarded all the time. Athos is dismissed from his duty for the king for the time, watching out for you. The times he needs a break another one of us will come and look after you." The Captain explained with a strict face.
A prisoner in my own home, Aramis thought. Treville glanced over to Athos. "Come to me if anything happens." With this the Captain leaves Athos and Aramis alone with each other.
"Drink."
"Eat."
"Sleep."
"Clean yourself."
"Get some fresh air."
Aramis felt like his free will was taken away from him as he had to do as he was told. As a soldier he was used to get orders, though he never really liked to follow them. But he could live with it, as it were orders affecting his work. Now, as the orders affected his whole life, he felt like a marionette. Athos didn't listen to him, as he begged for some relief. He just told him that everything was going to be okay. He held him tightly when Aramis wanted to fight him and he laid him into the bed, when all his strength left him weak and vulnerable.
"You're not helping me!" Aramis screamed once again and tried to sit up but was pushed down by Athos strong hands. "None of you understands this. I NEED it!" He struggled to get free, but he had fought so much in the last hours that it was no big effort for Athos to hold him down. This was as the swordsman noticed how cold Aramis felt and how much his hands shook. Athos thought as if it was really that good to just take the medicine from Aramis. Maybe it would be easier to lower the doses he took.
No. Athos shook his head mentally. This needed to be done now and completely.
Athos let go of Aramis, as he didn't fight back for a minute. His hands now free, the marksman pushed against Athos chest. "Go away. If you're not willing to help me, leave me alone."
"You know that won't happen." Athos sat down in his chair, satisfied to see that Aramis didn't want to sit up again.
Nearly an hour in silence went by until Athos noticed that Aramis clenched his eyes shut. The shaking had increased and he desperately tried not to let the swordsman see. Athos kneeled down in front of the bed carefully. "Aramis, you okay?" Athos held his hand against Aramis' forehead, flinching at the heat that went out from the musketeer. "You're nearly cooking."
"Don't act as this would bother you," Aramis hissed through gritted teeth. "I've told you thousand times that I need it. You can't take it away from me that easily, my body longs for it." His voice got lower with every word, until Athos had to lean over to understand him. "I'm the medic and still you thought you knew better than me. Now you have to take the consequences."
Athos swallowed hard and sat back, thinking about the options he had. He knew Aramis was right at some point but giving him the milk of the poppy just wasn't an option. He told himself that it was not his fault. Aramis was the one who got addicted and he has to take the consequences for his own behavior. Still, a part in Athos thought otherwise.
Athos watched how the musketeer got lost in the fever more with every minute. Sweat was now dripping down his face, while he muttered curses. Treville has been informed by now, but he was still at the palace. He couldn't do much anyways. Aramis breath fastened to a speed where Athos wondered how long heart and lungs could endure this. He was not reacting at what Athos said by now. His curses had ended, as he seemed to clench all his muscles. The swordsman put wet towels onto his head and around his calves, changing them very few minutes.
A doctor entered the room after a while. He suggested to give Aramis some opium – probably the milk of the poppy – as he didn't know about his background. As this was denied by Athos he suggested bloodletting, but the musketeer feared that this would weaken Aramis even more. So there was nothing more the doctor could do.
Athos tried to get some water into the marksman, but he nearly choked on it. Frustrated that he couldn't help the Musketeer, Athos walked through the room restlessly. A crucifix at the top of the cupboard caught his attention. It was just now as he remembered how religious Aramis was. Athos never understood much about religion, he never cared for it though. Still he knew that it brought strength to the religious ones. "Maybe your god can help," he mumbled as he put the necklace around the medics neck. It didn't help though. But what had he thought? That it just would perform magic and heal Aramis? Athos curses himself for thinking that this could have helped and for hoping it would.
A scream ripped him out of his thoughts. Aramis was tossing around, his hands clenched around the sheet beneath him. Athos carefully brushed the hair out of the marksman's face, before he kneeled before the bed. Aramis screamed once again, while he beat and kicked the air. "Leave me alone! Get away from me you devilish birds!" "Hey, hey. Everything is fine, Aramis. Do you hear me? You're at the garrison. Here are no birds, here is nothing that can hurt you."
Aramis didn't seem to notice the voice of the swordsman as he kept on shouting. "I'm not dead yet, get away from me!" Only then Athos really understood what he was talking about. He was back in Savoy. Athos thought if it was just a feverish nightmare or if this maybe really had happened at some part. If the crows had mistaken Aramis for one of his dead brothers and attacked him. It was possible, as Aramis was nearly dead as he was found. "You're save now," Athos repeated, brushing through the musketeers hair.
Aramis wasn't able to be calmed down by Athos. He just stopped as his body was too exhausted and the fever increased so much he just went limp. Now Athos didn't just feared that he maybe hurt himself while he had a nightmare, but he feared for Aramis life.
