"D'artagnan," Athos began, his hands held up slightly in case D'artagnan fell backwards. The man was swaying dangerously on his feet which only caused the growing concern in Athos to rise even more.

"I can't live another day knowing this man is alive," D'artagnan growled, pressing the tip of Antonio's sword harder against the Captain's neck.

"I know," Athos simply said, slowly moving forward as Porthos and Aramis watched carefully.

One look towards the Spanish Captain and Athos' blood was boiling with anger. The man had the ability to be smirking up at him when he was near seconds away from death. Antonio's eyes then flickered back to D'artagnan, the smirk dropping in a second and fear taking over.

Athos thought it would be selfish of him to just pull out his pistol and burst open the man's skull right that second, even though he desperately wanted to.

"Please, don't do this," Antonio began and D'artagnan's hand dropped slightly, lowering the sword to the man's chest.

Athos took another step but stopped, his eyes flickering down to where D'artagnan was tightening his grip on Antonio's sword.

"D'artagnan," Athos began again. "I know what he did to you is unforgivable and pains you every second. However, he's asking for mercy. Why give him the satisfaction of dying when he could simply rot in prison for the rest of his life," Athos said and seemed to break through to D'artagnan.

Antonio glanced towards Athos before starting to laugh, it began as a soft chuckle before laughing loudly that D'artagnan flinched.

"Come on D'artagnan, do you really expect me to believe that you're going to kill me?" Antonio asked, titling his head in a way as if to study the younger musketeer.

D'artagnan didn't falter, simply staring the Spanish Captain down and daring the man to continue talking.

"You're weak and pathetic, I can't believe the Captain here allows you to be a musketeer," Antonio said, glancing across at Athos who hands were tightly balled up into fists. He was trying to save the man however Antonio was digging his own grave right now. "You're nothing but scum," Antonio added and before D'artagnan could do anything, Athos snapped.

He took two steps forward, acting on pure anger. Aramis and Porthos didn't even move to stop him, both wanting to beat the life out of Antonio too.

Athos grabbed the Captain's shirt before punching the man straight across the jaw, busting his lip in the process. He slammed another fist to break the man's nose before throwing him backwards.

Antonio fell onto his back and Athos grabbed him once again, pulling him up by the shirt and throwing him forward. He landed on all fours before quickly pushing himself up to only have his head snapping to side as Athos slammed his fist once again into the man's face.

He could feel all the anger, all the tension that had built up within him over the past week ease from him the second his fist had connected with Antonio's face.

Everything the Spaniard had put his brother and the rest of the musketeers through caused Athos' blood to boil. He slammed one last punch across Antonio's face, blood splattering from his mouth and a black eye forming.

Athos then relaxed his hand, his knuckles bleeding from the force of his punches before turning to D'artagnan who stood there a little shocked but was slowly regaining himself.

"Grab him," Athos simply said, straightening his clothes. Aramis and Porthos moved in a second, Athos grabbing D'artagnan and pulling him back.

"Get off me!" D'artagnan snapped but Athos easily grabbed him and pulled him back gently. "Get off! He killed them. H-He... He has to pay," D'artagnan said, however he knew himself that he wasn't a murdered, he couldn't do it no matter how much he wanted to.

Antonio was pulled up to his feet by Aramis and Porthos, Antonio trying to shrug off their grip. He tested his jaw and winced in pain; Athos didn't even hold back the smug smirk slowly forming on his lips, the man deserving the pain.

D'artagnan dropped Antonio's sword, slumping back into Athos in defeat.

He knew his brothers were right, the man surrendered it would be against his code as a musketeer and as a human being to kill him there and then.

D'artagnan's head fell forward, all the energy from the adrenaline finally disappearing and the pain coming back. His ribs were throbbing violently, sending waves of immense pain through him. His head pounded hard against his skull as his world began to spin around him. He couldn't focus, the pain bring tears to his eyes before he found his knees give way.

"D'artagnan!" Three voices called out to him.

He took in a shaky breath, breathing in Athos' sent as they both sunk to sit on the ground. His back rested against Athos' chest, his brother's arms wrapped around him to hold him up.

"D'artagnan?" He heard Aramis ask as the medic crouched down in front of him, having left Porthos to handle Antonio. He gently tapped D'artagnan's unbruised cheek to try and get a response.

Porthos watched as he held Antonio back, facing the two as his heart hammered against his chest and hands digging hard into Antonio's arms to hold the Captain back.

"D'artagnan?" Aramis asked again and D'artagnan simply groaned, titling his head away from Aramis' hand.

"It's his ribs," Beaumont then spoke up from where he stood with Duval at the tent entrance, the other musketeer having his arm slung over Beaumont's shoulder to stay stood up. "Majority of them are bruised, he might have some broken though," he said and Athos shared a concerned look with Portnos while Aramis lifted D'artagnan's dirty shirt up to take a look.

They all grimaced at the sight of the bruises that ran along their brother's body, covering most of his skin. Aramis went to run his hand along D'artagnan's ribs, concern growing when he felt the heat radiating from the Gascon's skin before he had even touched him.

"Aramis," D'artagnan breathed, his voice so faint Aramis had to strain to hear it. He leant forward as D'artagnan opened his mouth to speak. He then lifted his hands to grip at Aramis' shirt tightly, breathing shaky as he tried to control his pain.

"D-Don't... Don't let me die, Aramis," D'artagnan breathed, gripping onto the man's shirt and pulling with all his strength. "It'll k-kill...her," he then mumbled, his grip going slack slightly as his ribs caused his body in wince in pain and a cry to escape his lips to which he squeezed his eyes closed.

Thoughts of Constance ran through his head as the world began to slip from his grip, his senses slowly failing him and the darkness trying to drag him down.

"I'm not going to let you die on me D'artagnan, I won't allow it," he heard Aramis reply with such determination in his voice it almost calmed him. His hand slipped from Aramis' shirt and all he knew was darkness.

Ah, hope you agree with my decision over Antonio...

Thanks for the reviews, follows and favourites, as always they make my day :)