"Athos!" Aramis called, turning and rushing back into the room where Athos was slumped on the floor, face down.
"I'm fine," Athos grumbled softly as he tried pushing himself up onto all fours, after he had not so gracefully fallen out of bed.
His arms shook as they tried holding up most of his weight and his gunshot wound throbbed painfully; he just hoped he hadn't pulled the stitches out since it wouldn't go down well with Aramis. He hated to admit it but Aramis had been right, he shouldn't have tried getting out of bed on his own.
"Clearly," Aramis replied. "I'm not even going to say I told you so," he said as he took Athos gently by the arm and helped him stand.
"You just did," Athos said, glancing at him and giving him a look to which Aramis simply grinned at.
They both sat on the bed, Aramis with a hand on Athos' shoulder as the swordsman tried to get his breathing under control.
Treville stepped in with Porthos following, both looking at Athos with concerned expressions.
"I'm fine," he told them again, feeling their eyes on him and wanting nothing more but for them to stop tip toeing around him.
The door opened moments later, D'artagnan walking in with a slight alertness about him.
"Is everything alright? I heard you shout," D'artagnan said, looking at Aramis who smiled softly at the boy.
"Everything's fine, Athos just had a brief relationship with the floor," he said with a grin and Athos forced himself not to roll his eyes.
Treville watched him carefully and Athos was determined not to show any weakness, he straightened his back and held his head high.
"The letter," Athos said and Treville seemed to hesitate before sighing and lifting the letter up to read aloud.
"Captain, by now I am sure your man has told you about what happened and I am sure you have many questions for me. Why I did it is probably one of the many or where am I hiding. I, however, have one for you," Treville said, pausing as he glanced at the next sentence. He looked up at D'artagnan who was watching him with an unreadable expression on his face.
He took a silent breath in before continuing.
"Would you give up your youngest to save the rest?" Treville said and D'artagnan let his head drop before walking over to the chair at the table and sinking into it. Porthos moved over to the lad, hand resting on D'artagnan's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"I want my revenge, either send him to me at the old mill on the outskirts of Paris or I'll send my men to come get him and kill anyone who gets in their way, and this time they won't take the wrong one," Treville finished reading, glancing up from the letter and at D'artagnan who seemed to have sunk further and further into his chair.
The room fell silent while everyone took a moment to allow the letter to sink in.
"Who gave you this?" Treville then asked, looking over at Porthos who straightened up.
"I was on my way back from the palace when some blonde breaded man wearing all black blocked my path," Porthos informed them, still staying right next to D'artagnan to try and comfort him silently.
"Did he say anything to you?" Treville asked, wanting to know every detail.
Porthos seemed to hesitate in speaking, glancing down at D'artagnan with sorrow in his eyes before looking across at Athos.
"He just said that Tomás was a man of his words," Porthos said, looking up at Treville who took in a deep breath.
"Don't you dare," Athos suddenly said as he saw D'artagnan twitch, about to rise from the chair and likely walk out the room.
Athos glanced across at him and they locked eyes. A silent conversation occurred between the two and after a few moments more D'artagnan simply slumped back into his chair.
"The man wants me, not you Athos," D'artagnan said, with no emotion within him at all as if he was too tired to argue.
"All for one," Athos said and D'artagnan looked up at him, locking eyes and looking at Athos as if to say I knew you would play that card.
"If it means his men won't come and try to kill us all then..." D'artagnan wondered off, he would never go against the musketeer motto.
"Then what?" Athos asked. "You're just going to wonder off into the night and expect to be able to fight all his men?" Athos asked, his voice raised slightly before he forced himself to take a breath. Porthos stepped forward as if to protect D'artagnan.
"We know they're coming," Porthos began. "They've lost the element of surprise. We simply wait and prepare for their attack," Porthos said and Aramis nodded in agreement.
D'artagnan glance across at Athos before being unable to look at him any more. He could practically feel the guilt eating away at him every time he saw the bruises covering Athos' face or the way he gingerly held himself, left arm against his ribs to try and not aggravate his ribs from where Treville had shot him.
"D'artagnan?" Porthos asked, glancing over his shoulder at the lad and waiting for an answer.
He had no choice, his brothers wouldn't let him go. He knew if they were in his position, he wouldn't let them go either.
"Fine, we'll wait," he said before pushing up to stand and leaving, wanting to get to his room to rest.
Porthos sighed, taking up D'artagnan's vacated seat and stretching his legs out in front of him.
"He's going to do something stupid isn't he?" Porthos more stated than asked and Aramis simply hummed.
"But we're going to stop him," Treville said, giving them all a look before leaving for his office.
Athos winced as he moved to sit further up his bed, instantly regretting it as both of his bothers attention was quickly drawn to him.
"You alright?" Porthos asked, standing and moving over to the bed.
"I'm fine," Athos said for what felt like the twentieth time that day. Aramis gave him a raised eyebrow before standing, hands going to Athos' shirt to inspect his wound.
"I said I'm fine," Athos finally snapped, pushing away Aramis' hands. "I don't need you hovering over me all the time," Athos said, his voice harsh. Aramis paused, hands drawing back slightly as Porthos frowned at the injured man.
Athos let out a shaky breath before briefly closing his eyes, guilt from having snapped at his friend taking over him.
They're only trying to help, Athos told himself before opening his eyes again to look at them both.
"I'm sorry," Athos said, looking down at the bed while Aramis shook his head slightly.
"It's understandable," he replied with a soft smile, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're feeling helpless with your injury and we're feeling helpless since we can't heal you quicker," Aramis said.
"It'll take time," Porthos added and Athos just nodded before allowing Aramis to look at his wound which, thank god, he hadn't torn the stitches due to his slight stumble out of his bed.
"It's just..." Athos wandered off while Aramis put a fresh bandage over his injury. He felt his chest go tight as he struggled for words, unable to find the right ones to say to them.
"You want to heal quicker, we get it," Porthos said, having sat back down in the chair at the table, studying Athos through slightly narrowed eyes. "Also, what Tomás did to you... It's going to take a while to recover from it all," he said and Athos glanced up at him, thankful that Porthos knew him so well to know what he was trying and failing to say.
"And we'll be here to get you both, you and D'artagnan, through it all," Aramis said and Athos just sighed, resting his head back and finally allowing his brothers to look after him.
So I felt Porthos needed a bit of love and attention with this chapter, more of him next chapter as well. Thank you so much for the reviews, follows and favourites, they make my day. Next chapter will hopefully be up later this week maybe :)