Porthos moved around the table where the now unconscious Athos laid, his head to the side with D'artagnan stood by him.
"Aramis," Porthos warned, a hand coming to rest on Aramis' uninjured shoulder. He could see the blood staining Aramis' shirt, how he held his left arm to his side and how he was swaying slightly.
"I'm fine," Aramis responded, about to take a step toward D'artagnan as he was growing more concerned over the youngest of their group's injuries. However, the second he began to move his knees buckled and a wave of dizziness took over him.
If it wasn't for Porthos' quick reactions Aramis would have been face first on the floor.
"Sit down," Porthos ordered, his arm wrapped around Aramis' waist to hold him up. Treville moved to grab a chair for him, dragging it over quickly. "Now," Porthos added when he saw Aramis was about to argue.
The marksman simply sighed before sitting down in the chair, allowing Porthos to help him pull his shirt off.
"I need to check D'artagnan over," Aramis said weakly, beginning to make a stand but Porthos held him back down in the chair.
"You're the one currently bleeding to death Aramis," D'artagnan said, turning his head to look back at him.
"You're the one that looks like death D'artagnan," the medic grumbled in reply, seeing how D'artagnan was pale and was covered in sweat. "I need to check your hearing," he said as Porthos began to check his shoulder.
"I'm fine," D'artagnan particularly growled in frustration.
"Just let Porthos clean you up first Aramis," Treville said, crouching down next to him and looking at the gunshot wound.
"There's no exit wound," Porthos then stated.
"Great," Aramis grumbled, sighing and leaning back to get more comfortable. "Just do it," he then added when Porthos gave him a weary look.
Aramis decided to distract himself with his anger towards Treville instead, trying terribly hard to not cry out in pain as Porthos worked his way at getting the musket ball out of his shoulder.
"It was for his own safety and yours," Treville snapped after Aramis asked why he had done it. Treville was clearly as angry as Aramis was with the whole situation and as worried for his injured comrade.
"So you thought shooting him was the best way? If you had been an inch out he could well have died," Aramis snapped back, clearly not bothering to acknowledge the fact that Treville may have just saved him from a musket ball in the chest.
"Well I wasn't off was I," Treville said.
"Captain we all due respect, but what if you had?" D'artagnan asked and Treville turned his icy glare onto the Gascon.
"I was thinking of my men, I was thinking of you," Treville said, glancing back to Aramis. "And I was thinking of him," he said, gaze flickering down to Athos' pale face.
"You still risked his life," Aramis snapped before flinching and groaning in pain, Porthos having final pulling the ball out.
"You're on dangerous ground here Aramis, you should stop now," Treville warned and Aramis bit the inside of his cheek, trying to restrain his anger.
Aramis would give his life to save one of his brothers, but didn't want them risking their own for his sorry ass. He couldn't stand seeing his brother like this, sweat covering Athos' beaten body and face pinched in pain.
"Was that a threat?" Aramis asked as Porthos began cleaning his wound, causing him to flinch away and hiss in pain.
"Sorry," Porthos mumbled but his apology was drowned out by Treville.
"It can be," Treville replied to Aramis who gritted his teeth together, hands balling into fists.
"Look at him," Aramis then said, taking a different approach to, he would like to say, the conversation not argument. "Athos was already in a weak state and then you go and shoot him. D'artagnan was making a move and would have stopped him without him having a musket ball in the ribs," Aramis said and could see the guilt in Treville's eyes.
"I did what I thought was best, what I thought would save you both and not have you bleeding on the floor and Athos sent to hang," Treville said and his words seemed to hit D'artagnan hard. The Gascon's head snapped up from looking down at Athos to send a glare at Treville.
"Shut up. Both of you. Do you really think this is helpful at this time?" D'artagnan asked them both, gaze flickering from one to the other.
Silence fell in the room, Porthos keeping his gaze down at his work and Aramis glancing towards the ground.
Treville suddenly turned on his heels and strode towards the door.
"I'll go set up a room for him," Treville said, knowing Athos wouldn't be able to recover lying on the medical table, and with that Treville left, the door slamming shut behind him.
D'artagnan sighed before blinking back blurred vision, the sudden burst of energy hitting him hard and taking its toll on him.
"I need to sit down," he then said and both Porthos and Aramis glanced up at him suddenly, both looking at him with such concern.
Porthos reacted first, pushing an injured Aramis to stay sat in his chair before moving to help D'artagnan over to another chair by the table of medical equipment.
"You alright?" Porthos asked, crouching down in front of D'artagnan who D'artagnan nodded, which he regretted instantly.
"Just a little dizzy," he managed to mumble out. He could feel Aramis' watchful gaze boring into the side of his head, full of concern and itching to check his brother over.
Before either of them could reply, a groan sounded from Athos and all three of them quickly turned around to look at him.
Thank you so much for the reviews and terribly sorry for the wait. I hope it was worth it. Please tell me what you thought of this chapter, thanks :)