Once the girls were safe at the garrison, Captain Treville set to the task of questioning the girls about Lebarg's involvement in their kidnapping and illegal auction. While he questioned them Aramis had D'artagnan seated in the corner of the room and was seeing to his injuries.
Every so often he would let out a grunt or curse, but refused to cry out, even as Aramis dug the ball out of his flesh. Treville noticed the worried glances that Athos kept shooting in their direction.
Sometime later Treville finished his interrogation and Aramis had just tied off the last stitch on D'artagnan's side. Athos approached the two just as the window began showing signs of early morning light.
D'artagnan was now standing with his elbow resting on top of Aramis's head as a bloodied cloth was used to wipe away any excess blood before bandaging him up. The gash was long and deep from what Athos knew of sword wounds. It started at D'artagnan's back and wrapped around his side and ended just above his trousers over his right hip.
"That will leave an impressive scar." Said Athos in an attempt to distract D'artagnan from what was going to happen next.
"Not a word of this to Constance. I don't need her to worry about me right now."
His face was slightly pale and he appeared tired, but still in good spirits.
"And how do you think she is going to react when she finally sees it?" Aramis interjected from beneath the Ganson's arm.
"And the fact that you didn't tell her?" added Athos.
"At least by then there will be nothing left for her to worry about," replied D'artagnan with a sigh.
Suddenly D'artagnan's body tensed up and he hissed between his teeth as Aramis placed an alcohol doused rag over the wound. The others waited for their friend to open his eyes again before continuing.
"We are going to meet up with Porthos at the Belgard Estate." Announced Athos.
"Good. When do we leave?"
Athos stared at the younger man critically, "Aramis, The Captain, and myself will be leaving within the hour. You will remain here to rest."
D'artagnan looked offended, "What? No. I am going to help Porthos with you."
Aramis sighed loudly as he tied a knot in the bandages encircling D'artagnan's torso.
"You need rest. That is no scratch D'artagnan." He said gesturing to his side as he stood up.
The Gascon opened his mouth to argue, but Athos cut him off, "Mon Dieu D'artagnan. You don't know when to stop, do you?" worry and agitation clear in his tone.
D'artagnan grabbed the clean shirt that was brought to him shortly after they returned to the garrison and pulled it over his head.
"Apparently not, but it doesn't matter, because I'm going."
Aramis looked at Athos and shrugged in defeat. They both knew that once D'artagnan had made up his mind there would be no changing it. The boy was just too stubborn for his own good.
D'artagnan slowly picked up his brown leather jacket and turned it over; examining the large hole that now graced the entire right half.
"Well that won't do," announced Treville as he walked over to the small group of Musketeers, "You can wear this until you find the time to patch that up or get a new one." Treville offered D'artagnan a faded dark leather jacket not unlike the one he already wore. He nodded to the Captain before accepting the soft leather.
"We leave immediately. It's a two hour ride and Lavisk already has a significant lead on us."
Minutes later the Musketeers found themselves in the training yard about to mount up. Athos and Aramis were watching closely for any sign that their youngest comrade's determination might falter. That was when Aramis noticed just how well the Captain's jacket fit D'artagnan's lean frame.
"Captain," Aramis began just loud enough for Treville and Athos to hear, "that jacket, I don't exactly see it fitting you too well."
Treville gave a small grin, "Oh, but it did once."
Athos eyed the garment critically, "At what age?"
"I believe I was sixteen the last time I wore that, only a few years younger that D'artagnan is now. I found it in the bottom of my trunk the other day. I was just about to get rid of it."
Athos pulled his hat onto his head before pulling himself up into the saddle and said, "Don't let D'artagnan hear that once belonged to you as a teen. I don't think he would take it very well."
"He would hate us for it,' added Aramis with a smile, "But I make no promises that it won't slip out one day when he has need to be knocked down a few pegs. This could be fun."
"What could be fun?" questioned D'artagnan looking slightly confused, having missed the rest of the conversation.
Aramis remained silent, now was not the time where he would be able to fully enjoy riling up the younger man that would be better left for a drunken night at the tavern with Porthos for backup.