"I need to remove the bullet." Aramis stated looking worriedly at the wound and then at D'Artagnan whose eyes were wide, his face now turning a grey-green color from the blood loss.
Aramis took a deep breath trying to calm himself. The wound, he observed, was right below D'Artagnan's ribs, near his left side. Aramis tore his shirt and began wiping away some of the blood around the wound. Crap. The bullet was still inside!
Aramis unsheathed his knife holding it in front of him, he looked at D'Artagnan staring back at him and in that moment Aramis knew- he could see it in the Gascons eyes- his brother trusted him. In that moment D'Artagnan made him feel like an older brother, he calmed knowing his brother supported him.
"Athos." Aramis stated quickly. "I need you to hold him down. So, he doesn't trash around to much." He said waving his hand by D'Artagnan's thighs.
Athos nodded quickly, gently placing D'Artagnan's head on the ground and moved to where Aramis had pointed.
Aramis plunged his dueling dagger into the wound in search of the bullet. D'Artagnan was still, his eyes where focused on Aramis, as the dagger pulled and probed at the source of the discomfort.
"I got it!" Aramis exclaimed as he pulled the bullet out. He brushed the bullet away and scanned the balcony for Treville. Aramis began to panic. "Where was he?"
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Treville was searching frantically for the sewing kit, practically destroying Aramis's room trying to find it. He stood in the middle and began glancing around the room, "it's not under the bed, it's not by his dresser, it's not under the dresser...so...where is it?"
He searched again looking into every crevasse he could find, but his efforts where wasted and time was running out.
He rushed out of the room, down the corridor and down the stairs, back to Aramis. He crouched by D'Artagnan's side opposite of Aramis; noticing how pale D'Artagnan was, and wished he had better news.
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
"The sewing kit..." Treville started. "...Where was it?"
Aramis looked up from his patient, his hands now pressing on the wound with cloth from his shirt, "On my dresser...like it always is." He stated slowly, before realizing what Treville truly meant by his question. "Why? What happened? Where is it?"
"I don't know... I looked everywhere its not there."
Aramis paled and looked at his Captain, "Are you sure?"
"Yes...I'm sorry."
.~.~.~.~.~.
D'Artagnan could feel the dagger digging into the wound, but he couldn't feel the pain that usually accompanied someone sticking a sharp object into an open wound. He lay there for a moment trying to slow his now racing heart.
"I got it!" He heard Aramis exclaim.
D'Artagnan felt the hard surface of the ground disappear, and looked up to see Athos above him. "When did he move?" He thought. He let this thought pass; it didn't matter. He felt safe. He was happy. He tried to reach his hand toward Aramis to reassure him everything was okay, but his words felt lost as a burning sensation filled his entire body.
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
A small groan emanated from D'Artagnan's lips, his back now beginning to arch, his eyes wide.
"What's happening?" Treville and Athos questioned worriedly, trying to steady the boy.
"I don't know! D'Artagnan!" Aramis called. "Can you hear me? D'Artagnan!"
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Porthos turned abruptly to see what had occurred, praying to God that his friend was alright. He paled, raising a hand to cover his beating heart as he tried to take in the scene that was in front of him.
Panic. Everyone was panicking. Porthos froze. He never saw his friends, especially the the Captain, looking so frightened and panicked before. He gathered himself as best he could and turned back to the assassin.
"What did you do?" Porthos growled, as he picked up the man by his collar.
"Its a gift." The man explained pulling out a bottle from his pocket.
Poison. He threw the man on the ground, the circle of musketeers opened to let Porthos through, surrounding the man again blades pointed.
Porthos rushed over, sliding next to where Aramis was crouched.
D'Artagnan's eyes were watery with the sheer pain and his breathing came out in sharp, shallow rasps, his back arching. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and covered his foreheard in a thin sheen. Three pairs of hands tried to steady him as he thrashed.
"Aramis.." Porthos whispered, showing him the bottle.
"Go get a physician!" Aramis cried. Porthos ran.
"Is he going to be okay?" Athos demanded, watching Porthos disappear from sight.
"I don't know..." Aramis replied, tears glistening in his eyes. "I don't know."
Sorry this took so long for me to upload this! I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks so much for your continued support please review I'd love to hear your opinions and/or suggestions. I'll hopefully have the next chapter up soon!