"Do you have no mercy? Not even a shred of it?" D'artagnan questioned, his voice threateningly low as he stared at Antonio. The Captain titled his head, studying D'artagnan through narrowed and curious eyes.

They were stood by a river, Antonio's men cleaning up while their horses drank. D'artagnan had made the mistake of asking for them to be allowed to clean up too, the musketeers all tired and sweaty from the long walk. Antonio had merely waved his request away which only angered D'artagnan, causing his hatered for the man to, if it was even possible, increase.

"When the musketeers get here, and trust me they will, I will make sure that they offer you and your men no mercy," D'artagnan warned with a growl, the anger that had been building up within him over the past few days now so close to the surface he could almost touch it. "You can also be assured, and trust me when I say this because musketeers always keep their word, that I will be the one to personally condemn you to hell," D'artagnan finished, hands balled up in fists as he glared at the Captain.

"You never fail to amuse me D'artagnan," Antonio simply said before ordering three of his men to watch them.

"You won't be smiling when I'm piercing your sword through your chest," D'artagnan grumbled back as Antonio made his way over to the river.

"Relax," Duval mumbled in his ear, leaning over towards him.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Beaumont asked from his right, glancing over at D'artagnan with a slight amused look.

"Anything would be better than seeing that man's face again," D'artagnan growled as he watched Antonio crouch down by the river.

"You don't mean that," Duval said, looking at D'artagnan with concern in his eyes.

"Of course I don't, it's just..." D'artagnan began but struggled to find the right words.

"Anything, even death, is better than this," Lamar mumbled from behind them where he and the other musketeers sat on the ground, too defeated by the walk to stand at this moment in time.

"We'll make it," Duval said, glancing towards Beaumont who simply shrugged before turning away.

"Might as well settle down for a few minutes, we'll be off again soon," Beaumont said as he flopped down onto the grass covered ground, leaning his back against the tree and closing his eyes.

"I fear I won't be able to get back up if I sit," D'artagnan said and Duval slipped his hands around D'artagnan's arm, guiding him towards the tree Beaumont was sat against.

D'artagnan winced as he pressed his back against the tree, deciding to stay stood since he knew he would pass out from the pain of sitting down to only have to climb to a stand minutes later.

Duval stood in front of him, looking into D'artagnan's eyes to make sure the musketeer was ok before sitting down on the other side of Beaumont.

D'artagnan studied the group of musketeers in front of him, feeling the burden of getting them through this alive lie heavy on his shoulders. He knew he had to keep Antonio's attention on himself to make sure the younger musketeers were spared. However, he knew soon his body would give up on him even though his mind would try push to keep standing tall against Antonio.

D'artagnan was determined to make sure no more harm would come to his men, he had seen one brother fall because of him... He couldn't watch another.

His mind slipped to Philippes, missing the musketeer's presence next to him. He was thankful Duval and Beaumont had decided to be his protectors but he truly missed Philippes. His heart ached for the boy's family, knowing he had to be the one to deliver the news. He was a good man and died trying to protect his country.

D'artagnan felt the guilt of his death weigh down on his chest as if it was almost suffocating him.
Suddenly, a hand pushed him roughly in the shoulder and he stumbled to the side. Thankfully, Beaumont had quick reflexes and his hands came up in a second to stop D'artagnan falling on top of him.

"Time to go, scum," the guard said before grabbing D'artagnan by the shirt pushing him forward. Beaumont's hands slipped from his grip on D'artagnan's arm and D'artagnan fell to the floor with a cry of pain.

"Hey!" Beaumont shouted, his anger finally snapping as he pushed himself up to stand. Beaumont lunged for the Spaniard, managing to land a punch across the man's jaw and then kick him in the stomach, causing him to double over. Beaumont then kneed the man in the chest before pushing him backwards, causing the Spaniard to stumble to the floor.

Before he could do anything more, Duval was behind him, bring his tied arms over Beaumont's head to then pull back against the man's chest.

"Stop," Duval ordered, his voice low in Beaumont's ear as the angry musketeer struggled against his hold.

The Spaniard's were all suddenly surrounding them, pistols raised and aimed at their heads.
"You don't need to do this, they'll take it out on D'artagnan," Duval mumbled and at those words Beaumont stilled, taking in a breath to calm himself.

"You good?" Duval then asked and Beaumont simply nodded, causing Duval to remove his hold on him.

"You'll pay for that," the injured guard heaved out, trying to catch his breath.

"No he won't, let him be," Antonio said, moving through his men to stand at the front.

Duval glanced at the leader, Beaumont glaring, before he crouched down next to his own.

"D'artagnan?" Duval asked, his hands going to rest on the Gascon's back. The man was wheezing for breath, his eyes squeezed shut in pain from his throbbing ribs.

D'artagnan simply groaned, the immense pain he was in rendering him incapable of stinging any words together to voice a reply.

"Get him up," Antonio suddenly ordered his men, waving lazily at where D'artagnan laid.

"No," Beaumont snapped, moving to stand protectively over D'artagnan. However he was shoved to the side as well as Duval, two Spaniard's moving over to roughly pull D'artagnan to stand.

The musketeer cried out, any movement sending a wave of pain coercing through his already beaten body.

He swayed slightly on his feet, keeping his eyes shut as he forced down the limited amount of food in his stomach from coming back up. He stayed perfectly still, waiting for his dizziness to slowly fade and his world to stop spinning. He took in a shaky breath before blinking his eyes open to meet Antonio's smirking face.

D'artagnan felt anger rush through him but he bit his tongue to stop from lashing out at the leader.

"Shall we head out again?" He asked D'artagnan with a smirk. "Not going to faint on us now are you?" He questioned as D'artagnan swayed slightly from the dizziness that he was trying to shake off.

"After you," D'artagnan managed to say without causing himself too much pain.

Antonio smiled at him before turning, walking over to his horse.

"Gentlemen," Antonio called, his men lowering their weapons before climbing onto their horses.

"I'm going to kill that bastard," Beaumont mumbled as they started to walk, one side of D'artagnan's slumped form leaning against him.

"Not if I get to him first," Lamar said, falling into step next to Beaumont.

"There's a line gentlemen and I do believe that D'artagnan has first hit," Duval said from the other side of D'artagnan, his hands on their leader's arm to make sure he didn't fall.

"First and only hit," D'artagnan mumbled, glancing across at his brothers.

"You think the others are going to find us?" Remey suddenly asked from behind, the now youngest of the musketeers after Philippes. It took D'artagnan everything in his powers to steady himself as he turned his head to look back at Remey.

"I have faith in Athos," D'artagnan simply said before turning to focus on walking, his mind spinning slightly.

All for one and one for all, he told himself.

He doubted his words the second they slipped from his mouth. However, he was quickly cursing himself for even thinking his brothers wouldn't get to them in time. Of course they would, D'artagnan was sure of it.

Then why couldn't he stop the doubt crawling in from the back of his mind?