A/N: I should have known I would get behind. I deeply apologize to anyone still waiting to read more. I promise this story will not be abandoned. Work is, even more than usual, burying me in crap. But I will be posting this til end :)

Chapter 3. Maybe things will be alright.

Heat and fire blasts over him. The force of it nearly knocks him off his feet as he ducks for cover. The atmosphere is heavy around him. It is filled with screams and pistol fire. His heart is beating so fast that he fears it might beat right out of his chest. Another explosion rocks the ground around him, bark and dirt fly at him, stinging his eyes and face as he tries to shield himself with his forearm.

Out of the chaos comes a force that knocks him to the ground. He hits hard and cries out as his side lights up in pain. He presses his palm against his side and winces. Pulling his hand away he looks down in awe. It's covered in blood. His blood. His chest seizes.

There is a figure in front of him. Trees are being splintered behind it by pistol and cannon fire. The figure has no face. It stands there for a moment and he feels frozen to the spot, transfixed on the threat before him. The figure moves in slow motion, a contradiction to the fast and bloody activity around them.

He scrambles back as the figure unveils a large sword. The hulking figure moves fast suddenly, swinging his weapon with deadly intent. Without thought, he reaches for the pistol he knows is strapped to his lower back. With a rolling escape, his foe's blade very nearly slices him open. With a quick twist he brings up his pistol and fires without thought or care. His aim is true, and his assailant falls to his knees before collapsing in an unmoving heap just before him.

Death-screams wail around him. Pistol fire explodes near him and a spray of fresh blood lands across his face. A body crashes into his, sending them both spinning to the ground in a heap. A cool sharp metal pierces his side, causing him to cry out a guttural roar. Ripping the weapon out of his side, blood flooding his shirt, he finds himself in a wrestling match. Another set of hands join his in a fight for the knife that had once impaled him.

His muscles are aching, his side is screaming, and he can feel himself losing this fight. A baby wails, different to screams of the dying men around him. The baby sounds scared, it needs help … HIS baby needs help. He lifts his knee and strikes his enemy hard in the groin earning himself a moments respite from the pressure. It's all he needs. He grits his teeth and jams the knife up into the underside of his attacker's jaw.

Scrambling out from under the now dead body, he follows the baby's cries. Calling out for it. He is scrambling in the dark. Smoke and fire have blinded his way and he cannot find the baby.

Suddenly he is captured. Is being held by both arms, dragged into a dark throne room. A figure looms over him as he is forced to his knees.

"Treason!"

The word echoes, shouted at him from the figure looking down at him from above. He cannot see the person's face. But panic fills his heart as he can hear the baby screaming. He is pressed down onto a stone block. He can feel the press of sharp steel against the back of his neck. He's struggling as the baby continues to scream. His breath catches in his throat as what he knows as a blade is pulled away from him. His heart pounds fast as the sound of a blade whistling through the air above him can be heard….

He awoke with a gasp, his heart racing, his side throbbing with a fresh pain. His eyes darted around the dark room. Where was he? His chest heaved as he swallowed thickly. Bringing a shaky hand up to the back of his neck, he rubbed the spot where he could still feel the ghostly whisper of an executioner's blade. Drenched curls were matted at the back of his head and pressed to the side of his face. He wiped at them shakily. A murmur beside him caused him to tense and turn. Beside him was a sleeping woman who looked on the verge of waking from her slumber. Who was she? He blinked. Odette … it was Odette. His … wife. He sucked in a shaky breath. He was Benoit. He took another slow shaky breath.

Odette moved restlessly beside him. "The… baby…" She mumbled.

The baby. He could still hear it crying. Not it. She. Elouise. His daughter, he reminded himself. This wasn't a dream. The baby was his daughter. And she was crying in the bassinette across the room from them. "I'll …" his voice croaked. "I'll get her."

Benoit moved his legs over the side of the bed, he bare feet touching the rough wooden floorboards. He could still feel the familiar ache from battle. Only the battle hadn't been against soldiers like in his dream. It had been against a boar. He pressed a hand against his bandaged side. It was strange. The ache, the pain, the fatigue of battle … it all felt like a familiar old friend. It was disconcerting. He shook his head as if to ride himself from the last vestiges from his dream. It was a dream. No … a nightmare. That was why this felt familiar. His nightmare still had a hold of him.

He stood up, quickly using still shaky hands to pull his trousers on and then stumbled almost blindly in the dark of the room towards the bassinette. All he needed to do was to follow the sound of the wails.

He quickly scooped the baby into his arms. Feeling the weight of his child as her crying became much louder when right next to his ear. "Shhhh …. Shhhh…" he tried, gently rocking her. Moving her to his uninjured side. The last thing he needed was a wayward kick to add to his injury.

The air was stifling in the room as he tried to calm the child down. His chest felt tight and Benoit realised he needed air and he needed air now. With Elouise still crying in his arms, albeit a little quieter now, Benoit pulled the curtain that kept their bedroom separate from the living area aside and headed straight for the front door of the house.

The night air, unencumbered by the stuffy air of the house, was like a soothing balm on his lungs. He stood there on the porch for a few long moments just breathing while silently rubbing soothing circles on the baby's back.

His escape from the house seemed to do the trick for both man and child. He was finding his chest unconstricted and Elouise had now toned her complaints down to a few hiccups as she rested her head on his bare chest. "I agree," he spoke to Elouise in hushed tones. "It's much better out here."

Benoit took the couple of steps down from the porch and glanced up at the sky. It was a clear night. Quite a few stars were out on display making the view a magical one. "Look, Elouise." He took his daughter's hand and pointed it to the sky. "It's … beautiful." It was calming. He watched as the baby looked quickly up at the sky, her large eyes seeming even larger in the moonlight.

She brought her attention back to him, her gaze transfixed on his and she smiled. The action brought an automatic smile to his lips. "As are you, m'lady."

He leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the nose. It elicited a giggle as she reached up with a small chubby hand to rub at her nose, her head bobbing forward almost headbutting him in the process. Benoit chuckled. Resituating the baby more securely in his arms.

Running a hand over the baby's fine hair, he sighed. "I wish I remembered you," he whispered. He wanted to remember so desperately. He was learning to love these children. But he wanted to remember what it was like to be a father for the first time. He wanted to remember everything about them. But how could he when he didn't even remember who he was. It was like he was living a lie.

Benoit kissed the baby's forehead and then took a few more steps with his bare feet out the front of the house. He looked up to the sky wishing for the answers, for something or someone to show him the way. "I don't know what I am doing," he confessed to the night air.

His dark eyes searched the sky. "I … don't know what I am doing. I need … I need help."

Elouise babbled. Reaching up, she lightly patted the stubble growing there with the soft baby skin of her hand. "You want to help me?" He asked her, smiling sadly.

Walking over to the wagon, Benoit placed Elouise on the back and then stood there, leaning against it with his arms around her for support. His side was aching, and the beginnings of a headache was starting to make itself known. He groaned and ran a hand down his face. Baby Elouise's hand reached out latched onto his tightly. He was amazed by the strength.

He smiled at her and then looked up at the sky again. "I need help," he stated again. "God, I need your guidance." His plea was met with silence. He sighed. "None of this feels real." There was this nagging feeling, in the pit of his stomach that this was all wrong. That something was wrong. He was missing the big picture, only he didn't remember what that picture looked like because he couldn't remember anything. But that feeling had been sitting there from the moment he'd woken up after his accident.

Elouise squealed for his attention, slapping his arm. He smiled at her again. He couldn't help himself. If only she could give him the answers. "Who am I, Elouise?"

"Pa …pa!" she squawked happily.

His eyes widened. Had she just …

"Ben?"

Benoit jumped at the sound of his wife's voice. He twisted around to see her and gasped as the movement pulled on the stitches in his side. Odette stepped off the porch and hurried across the yard to them.

"What are you doing out here?" Odette asked as she approached him, reaching out to grab his arm. "You should be in bed," she stated in concern, reaching up to feel his forehead. "You have a fever."

"She called me papa," Benoit stated in happy surprise, ignoring his wife's concerns. He turned back to the baby and scooped her back up into his arms, giving her a squeeze. The honesty of children gave him hope. It was also what tore him down with uncertainty. Was this the answer to the guidance he had been praying for? "She called me papa," he stated again, smiling what felt like the biggest smile to grace his face since waking up.

"She did?" Odette asked, looking from him to the baby and then back to him. "Papa is her first ... Oh, Benoit this is …"

"Perfect," he finished for her. It was perfect. He felt happy. He hadn't realised how much he had needed to hear that. Sebastien called him that all the time. Mathieu refused to use that term at all. Elouise was that impartial middle.

Odette smiled at him. "Yes … it is." She reached up, pressing her palm to his sweaty cheek. "Come inside. You need to rest."

Benoit nodded, allowing Odette to take Elouise from his arms. He took a deep breath and took Odette's waiting free hand and allowed her to lead him back to the house. Once inside Benoit closed the door behind him. He leant there for a moment, feeling hot and achy. Out of the corner of his eye he spied Mathieu peaking from behind the curtain that separated the boys' bedroom from the main area. As if realising he had been spotted Mathieu disappeared behind the curtain again.

"I should speak to him," Benoit suggested as he pushed himself away from the door.

Odette turned around and shook her head, placing her free hand against his chest. "No. You are unwell and need rest. We need you. Please … just go to bed. I'll look after the children."

"You sure?" He asked. He wanted to be the best father he could be if that was what he was supposed to be. Sebastien was still beside himself with grief over Felix's death.

"I am sure. Please, we need you to be well. I'll look after everything."

Benoit hesitated for half a second more before his body reminded him that he really was feeling off. "If you insist."

"I do," she stated. "Please."

Benoit smiled as she stood her ground. She was strong and stubborn and for the first time he thought maybe he understood how they had come to be together. He felt lucky. She had gone out of her way to help him, bring him back to the family. But for the first time since awaking to this strange world he really looked at her. He met her eyes and saw something real, something soft … a sadness almost. He moved forward and placed his hand against her cheek as she had done before. He leaned forward slowly and softly pressed his lips to hers. He lingered there, opening his eyes and staring into the depths of her blue ones.

She licked her lips almost nervously. "What was that for?" she whispered.

His lips pulled into a small smile. "Thank you. For looking after us. We …" he paused for a moment before continuing. "I am lucky to have you."

Odette stood unmoving, her lips a mere inch from his. And then suddenly the spell was broken, and she moved back, smiling at him. "Go to bed, Ben. Rest." And with that she turned and took Elouise with her into the boys' bedroom.

He almost felt dizzy. Maybe things would be alright.

Xxxall4onexxx

As they reached the town, d'Artagnan slowed his horse down to a leisurely gate beside Athos.

It was smaller than he'd pictured. A couple of houses, a church, an inn, a stable and what looked like a store. It was easy to see a new face in town might cause a stir. d'Artagnan couldn't imagine that they would get many visitors.

He turned to his right and glanced at Athos. "Captain Treville has a contact here?"

"An old friend. He owns the Inn."

"Soldier?" He enquired. He was curious. There was so much he still didn't know about their leader.

"Luc once managed the King's stables when Treville was but a young Musketeer," Athos explained. "He chose to retire in the country many years ago."

d'Artagnan cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "Working in an Inn doesn't much sound like retirement."

"He owns the Inn. And a man still must feed his family, d'Artagnan," Athos stated matter of factly. "Life does not come free."

"Unless you're the king," Porthos interjected.

d'Artagnan was surprised to hear Porthos' voice. The other man had barely said two words that didn't pertain to Aramis' disappearance and their mission to find him.

"Where is this bloody Inn anyway?" Porthos was clearly ready to get down to business. d'Artagnan couldn't blame him. Now that they were here he could also taste how close they were to an answer about their friend.

"Over there." d'Artagnan pointed to where he could see a massive wooden sign over the entry to the Inn. It looked like it had seen better days. "We could go there right now and see what we can find."

Porthos went to initiate his horse into a faster pace once more. Athos reached out and placed a hand on the larger man's shoulder. "What?" Porthos snapped.

"All in good time. The Inn keeper is not going anywhere, however our horses deserve a much-needed rest."

d'Artagnan instinctively reached forward and gave his horse a tender pat on its strong neck. They had been riding the poor animals hard in an attempt to get to this town as quick as possible. "Athos is right. Let's get the horses rested up in the stables."

Porthos growled in tired frustration but reluctantly nodded. "Alright then. Let's be quick 'bout this."

Reaching the stables, they make quick work of paying for their horses to be well looked after, while also securing fresh horses in case they need to head out again in a hurry. As Athos exited the stables he nodded to them indicating that all was arranged. Porthos huffed. "Good. Can we go now?"

Athos extended a hand indicating Porthos to lead the way. d'Artagnan shared a look with Athos as Porthos took off immediately, making long strides towards the Inn across the dirt street. "I hope this friend of Treville has some good information for us," d'Artagnan commented as he fell into step beside Athos. He wouldn't want to be in the Innkeeper's shoes with Porthos in this mood.

"Likewise," Athos agreed.

Porthos pushed open the doors to the Inn as if he meant business but thankfully not has harshly as d'Artagnan had been expecting. He wanted to find Aramis as much as any of them. But making enemies in the town wouldn't help their endeavour. d'Artagnan followed Porthos through the entrance, allowing his mentor to follow bringing up the rear.

While there were quite a few seating options in the poor looking establishment there was only two other people in the room. They were seated at a table in the far corner, quietly having a drink and looked to be playing a game of chess. A man stood at the bar, cleaning a mug. He looked up at their arrival, squinting in their direction. A look of recognition flitted across the man's face a moment later and he waived them over.

"Welcome Musketeers."

"Are you Luc?" Porthos asked in way of greeting.

"I am." Luc put down the now clean mug and beckoned them over once more. "Treville sent you?"

" 'e did," Porthos stated.

"Come, sit. Have a drink on the house … for old times' sake."

Athos moved past them both, taking control of the situation and making his way to the bar. He took a seat in front of Luc. d'Artagnan took that as a que to do the same. He patted Porthos on the back as he moved past him and joined Athos at the bar. Porthos paused for a moment before eventually following suit close behind.

"You must be Athos," Luc continued, placing a mug in front of the older Musketeer.

Athos nodded and then turned to indicate to both him and Porthos. "These are my friends, Porthos and d'Artagnan."

d'Artagnan extended a hand which was received with a strong handshake. "Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," Luc responded, placing filling a couple of more mugs for them. "Captain Treville sent word that you would be coming. I hear you seem to be missing a Musketeer?" He stated thoughtfully.

"'e's our friend," Porthos interjected.

"Of course." Luc replied in earnest.

Porthos continued, without touching the ale in front of him. "You seen 'im?"

Luc shrugged his shoulders. "That I cannot say for sure."

"Well what can you say?" Porthos growled.

Luc glanced at Porthos but didn't seem intimidated. He stood his ground and sighed. "I saw a family come through town…"

"Aramis doesn't have a family," d'Artagnan interrupted. He was confident that their friend wasn't currently hiding a wife and kids somewhere.

"Well this man who came through here was travelling with a wife and three kids."

"That doesn't make any sense. That doesn't sound like Aramis at all," d'Artagnan responded, suddenly feeling deflated. Had they come all this way on a false lead?

Porthos stood up with a frustrated growl. "This is a waste of our time."

"Porthos …" d'Artagnan started as Porthos walked passed him. The older man didn't pause. He walked out of the Inn, slamming the doors open with a harder force than was absolutely necessary.

d'Artagnan stood up to follow.

"Leave him be," Athos stated, having not moved through the exchange.

"But …"

"He will be fine," Athos stated and then turned back to Luc. "I apologize for my friend. As you can imagine this is very important to us."

Luc waived a hand in the air. "No need to apologize. In truth I am not sure if this man is your missing friend." He placed both hands on the bar in front of them.

Athos took a sip of his ale before considering the man in front of them. "I assume there is a reason you contacted Treville."

"Yes." Luc nodded. "This family. They stopped by the shop across the street. They sold some of their possessions for supplies. One of those possessions happened to be a pauldron … a musketeer pauldron. I haven't seen one of those in these parts in a very long time."

"Where is it? Do you have it?" d'Artagnan asked. Their uniform was all unique to each soldier. Aramis' pauldron was worn and scarred from years of duty. They would know it if it were his.

"I do not. Tobias at the store has it, along with some other trinkets."

Athos pursed his lips, a frown furrowing his brow. He glanced up at Luc. "Was this man a Musketeer?"

"He didn't seem to be, but I only met him briefly. His wife mentioned that he was a farmer, that they were on their way home to his family's old homestead. There was no mention of soldiering."

Athos shared a look with d'Artagnan and then gave his attention back to Luc. "Can you describe this man?"

Luc seemed to consider his answer for a moment. "I … uhh .. Let's see. He had black curly hair, brown eyes .. umm.. he was about 6 foot tall. He was clean shaven for the most part. They were just passing through. The husband had been suffering from Migraines so when Tobias mentioned I had some doctoring skills she brought him over for me to have a look. They had no real money to speak of, so she paid me with this…" Luc reached into his pocket and pulled out a very familiar ornate cross.

Athos stood and reached out for the religious symbol. He rubbed his thumb over the top. "This is Aramis' cross."

"Your man?" Luc inquired. Athos nodded, his gaze transfixed to Aramis' most prized possession.

"Did he tell you his name?" d'Artagnan asked quickly, his chest tightening with intrigue and concern.

It didn't sound like the Aramis he knew. Why would Aramis be travelling with a family, claiming them to be his? It didn't make any sense whatsoever. And Aramis … selling his pauldron, that cross? It just didn't fit.

Luc's face scrunched up in thought. "Um …hold on …" He tapped his fingers on the bar top for what felt like an eternity and then his eyes lit up. He clicked his fingers and pointed a finger in d'Artagnan's direction. "Benoit. That was his name."

"Did this man, or his wife, say anything else?" Athos asked, a touch of desperation in his voice that sounded all kinds of wrong coming from the older man.

"He was in my presence for a very short amount of time. He barely spoke and when he did he sounded unsure. His wife did most of the talking. I do know that the old farm is probably about a day's right north of here. I'm sorry I cannot offer much more."

"No … you have been most helpful." Athos stepped back from the bar and immediately slipped Aramis' cross into his jacket pocket and then reached into his other pocket and produced a couple of coins and placed them on the bar in front of Luc. "Thank you."

Luc immediately swiped up the coins and deposited them straight into his vest pocket. d'Artagnan nodded his thanks and then turned with Athos to leave.

"I hope you find your friend," Luc called out as they left.

"As do we," Athos responded without looking black.

d'Artagnan followed him out the door. Finally, they had something to go on … he just hoped they liked what they found.

TBC…

A/N: Thank you for still being here. I hope to see you as soon as I can :)