"Philippe, this is Aramis….What is it?"
Athos stopped and looked with a lot of concern at the young man lying on the bed. Philippe had raised his arms up to his head, as if to shield himself from physical attack. He was shaking.
Filed with anxiety, Athos went to the bed.
"It's alright" he said softly.
"Please don't let him take me back there," Philippe pleaded.
"Take you back?"
Athos was bemused. He looked at Aramis, still stood by the door.
"I'm afraid that the boy's reaction is quite understandable," Aramis explained coolly. "I was naive to imagine that he would not remember me."
"Remember you?" Athos retorted. "What the devil are you talking about?"
Aramis lowered his head.
"You asked me yesterday, how I knew about Philippe's being. Well, it was me who took him to that prison and put him into that…that thing."
"What!"
Athos's mind was racing. In almost thirty years he had witnessed his friend doing some pretty unscrupulous things but such an atrocity was beyond even Aramis, wasn't it? When his friend spoke again, his voice sounded distant.
"I know it's no excuse, but Louis didn't exactly give me a lot of choice in the matter."
Athos felt the anger rise in him on his young patients' behalf.
"A lot of choice?" he demanded. "Mon dieu, I'd rather have been broken on the wheel than live knowing that I'd done such a thing to a child. Just…Get out!"
"But I should try to explain…"
"Can you see that you're frightening him?"
Athos's eyes flashed angrily as Aramis' gaze fell on the young man he had caged all those years earlier. The same trembling form of a child lay curled up, his frightened eyes wide with dread.
The old solider nodded.
"We'll talk later," he conceded.
"Damn right we will," Athos replied and watched as Aramis backed out of the door.