AN: A big thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far! This was meant to be the final chapter, but it got too long, so now there will be one more to finish it up. I've already finished the sequel, which I'll post as soon as the final chapter is uploaded sometime tomorrow. It will focus on Aramis and Porthos after this story ends.

As it turned out, Aramis was only partially corrected. He could walk, provided Porthos supported the majority of his weight, as his right leg kept attempting to give out and with only one arm he couldn't always catch himself in time. The second time he fell he landed with his bound arm trapped beneath him, putting pressure on his bullet wound, and nearly passed out from the pain. After that, Porthos walked with an arm round his waist, Aramis's good arm slung across his shoulders, keeping him upright.

The journey back to the horses took much longer than it had taken them before. They had to move slowly to accommodate Aramis's injuries, and D'Artagnan could sense Athos scanning the woods constantly, on the alert in case they ran into any more surviving bandits. Now would not be good time for a fight.

When at last they reached the horses, darkness had fallen. Athos hurried to light a fire while D'Artagnan set up camp and prepared some food. Porthos lowered Aramis to the ground and crouched anxiously beside him. Aramis was white and gasping with pain from the hour long trip. He didn't refuse when Porthos offered him the wine a second time. Once the tent was set up, Porthos carefully maneuvered him inside and did not reemerge.

When the food was hot, D'Artagnan went in to offer some to Aramis and Porthos. Inside, he found Aramis sound asleep, lying on his uninjured side with his head on Porthos's chest and Porthos's left arm wrapped carefully around him. Porthos held a hand to his lips in a gesture of silence and took the food with a nod of thanks, trying not to jostle the injured man. Something in D'Artagnan warmed at the sight. Before today, he would have laughed if anyone had called Porthos of all people 'gentle,' but watching him with Aramis revealed another side of his personality that might otherwise have remained hidden.

Leaving the tent quietly, D'Artagnan went to sit by the fire. Athos offered him a second bottle of wine, which he accepted gratefully.

"Long day," Athos observed. D'Artagnan took a long swig and passed him the bottle.

"How long have you known?" he asked the older man curiously.

"Almost as long as I've known them," Athos shrugged.

"How did you find out?"

"It is a long story, and oddly similar in execution to what just occurred." Athos offered the warning but did not seem unwilling to tell the tale regardless. D'Artagnan leapt on the chance.

"Where am I going to go?" D'Artagnan pointed out with a smile, eager to hear the story.

Athos shrugged. Taking another long pull from the bottle, he began the tale.

"It was years ago. I had only been with the regiment a year. Treville had become fond of putting me with Aramis and Porthos. I think he thought some responsibility would be good for them." Athos smirked. "It was a standard mission: patrol the royal forest. An easy assignment. Except with Aramis and Porthos things can never just be simple. In the woods we were attacked by a large group of men. Don't ask me what they were doing there. I never found out. Aramis sort of… killed them all." D'Artagnan gaped at him and Athos chuckled. "I'll explain."

"Well, we were fighting, doing well enough, when ten or so of them darted off into the woods. I told Aramis to let them go, but Porthos didn't hear me, or maybe he just decided not to listen. Either way, off he went after them on his own and Aramis and I were too busy to go with him and make sure he stayed in one piece. After a few minutes, we'd taken out our opponents and off we went to find him."

"We could hear fighting from up ahead. We ran into a clearing and found the idiot trying to take on all ten at once. They were standing around him in a circle and he was just bashing away at them and dodging their attacks. I was all for letting him sweat for a bit so he'd think before charging in next time, but I remember Aramis looked unusually anxious and threw himself into the fray, and so naturally I followed."

"We'd killed about five of them when one pulled a knife from his tunic and hurled it at Porthos. He took it in the side, low, and went down hard." Athos paused, gazing into the fire. He appeared to be in deep thought. "I've never heard a man yell like that before."

"Porthos?" D'Artagnan asked.

Athos shook his head. "No. Aramis. You'd think it was him that had been injured. He screamed Porthos's name and had three of our attackers on the ground before I could finish one. I shouted for him to leave the last alive for questioning but I believe he was beyond listening. He killed the man before I could stop him. I've never seen a rapier take a man's head off so cleanly before." D'Artagnan winced. That would take an awful lot of power.

"He threw himself down by Porthos's side and started checking the wound. Porthos was unconscious and bleeding badly. Aramis always carried a needle and thread, even back then, so he pulled the knife out and got to work right away. He wouldn't let me help, and he snapped at me every time I spoke. His expression was… unsettling. His face was whiter than Porthos's and there was this frantic look in his eye. It had me on edge. I wasn't sure what to make of it."

"Eventually, we got Porthos patched up and back to the garrison somehow. The knife had missed everything important, but he developed a fever that lasted three days. I sat with him when I could. Aramis never left that bedside. Not once did I see him close his eyes or eat a bite. I was starting to worry Porthos would wake up and I'd have to explain that Aramis had simply wasted away in front of me." Athos shook his head. "Wasn't sure how I would have survived that. Porthos would've gone ballistic."

"On the third day his fever broke and he opened his eyes. Aramis and I were both there. He called for Aramis. Thought the man might pass out from the relief. He walked straight over, bent down, and kissed Porthos full on the mouth. I'm lucky I was near a chair, for I sat down rather heavily at that." Athos grinned wryly. "It was rather shocking." D'Artagnan laughed and accepted the proffered wine bottle, now nearly empty courtesy of Athos.

"They stayed like that for long enough that I realized I wasn't really surprised. It was shocking but not unexpected. I wondered how I hadn't seen it before. Eventually Aramis recalled that I was in the room and got incredibly nervous. He was worried I would react like the Church teaches. I told him I didn't care who he shared his nights with and that if he and Porthos were happy then that should be all that mattered. I'll never forget the gratitude in his eyes. I informed Porthos I was glad he was awake and left the room to give them privacy. We never discussed it again."

Athos shrugged and drained the last of the wine. "They've given me the privacy of my past and offered me a home when I was alone in the world. I'm not going to judge them for something like love."

They sat in silence for some time. D'Artagnan noticed Athos hiding a yawn behind his hand. "You can get some sleep if you want," he told him with a smile. "I'd like a chance to think about everything that's happened." Athos grunted his acceptance and lay down beside the fire. D'Artagnan stared up at the stars and thought about love.

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