A/N Porthos might be OOC, but I'm hoping that he's not.

19th July 1916

Porthos was almost skipping to the truck that would take him to the Field Hospital where Aramis was, he had been unable to sleep due to his excitement of knowing that Aramis was alive. Apart from a minor head injury and a fever Aramis was fine, considering what he had gone through he had gotten off lightly. Porthos pulled himself up into the truck Athos not far behind him, looking closely at his friend Porthos was sure he could see a small smile on Athos' face. On the journey Porthos was not aware of his surroundings; instead his mind was on how Aramis' parents would soon get a telegram informing them that their son was alive; not missing presumed dead.

While Porthos hated the idea of his best friend and brother as dead, he had to admit he would rather have been told that Aramis was dead, than be left wondering what had become of his brother. Yes, knowing was infinitely better than not knowing.

Soon the truck came to a stop and Porthos clambered over Athos' legs in his eagerness to see Aramis and jumped down onto the ground, as soon as his feet hit the ground he turned around to look at the hospital when he frowned.

Athos came to stand beside him and looked from Porthos to the hospital and back again. His eyebrows creased in confusion. "Why are you frowning? You were positively giddy a moment ago."

Without turning to face Athos Porthos commented, "I was here"

"Pardon?" queried Athos,

"When I was wounded I was brought here" elaborated Porthos in a low whisper, clearing his throat to try and keep his voice even.

"Well…yes" frowned Athos, "You were wounded and this is the nearest Field Hospital"

"You don't understand Athos!" exclaimed Porthos, finally looking at his friend. "When Aramis went on that patrol I was still at the Field Hospital resting. The nurse told Treville that Aramis was brought in a day after the massacre!"

Athos' eyes widened a fraction when he realized what Porthos was saying.

"I was here!" moaned Porthos as he backed away from Athos, his hands gripping his hair, "I was so close! I was here when he was first brought here! I was so close and I didn't even know!"

Athos stepped closer and forcefully grasped hold of Porthos' shoulders. "Do not. Feel guilty about this Porthos"

"Why shouldn't I? All that time spent worrying about whether Aramis was alive and he was here! Our times here overlapped! I didn't know that my brother was here!-"

"Porthos!" interjected Athos, as he tried to calm his friend, but either Porthos couldn't hear him or he was choosing to ignore him.

"I overheard a nurse and orderly talking about a wounded man with a head injury and who was unconscious with a fever. It was Aramis! They were concerned that he might die from the fever, he could have died and I was so close yet I was not at his side!"

"Enough Porthos!" hissed Athos. "They didn't know his name, you didn't see him. How could you possibly have known he needed you when you had no clue that he was even here?! You didn't even know that he went on a patrol and was wounded! Do not blame yourself when there is no blame to begin with. What happened to Aramis was terrible, but in no way was it your fault. Understand?" Porthos nodded, Athos sighed deeply and in a softer voice continued, "As you have now calmed down lets go find Aramis shall we?"

Again Porthos nodded and he followed Athos into the mass of tents which served as the Field Hospital. He knew Athos was right, that he had no reason to feel guilty, but he couldn't help but think that he should have known that his brother was hurt and needed him. Back home whenever Aramis had been hurt or ill and Porthos was not with him, he always somehow knew Aramis needed him. Why didn't he know this time?

Aramis in a chair gazing out across the nearby meadow folding a letter into an envelope addressed to Anne. After waking up and remembering the massacre he fully realized how short life could be, you never knew what was around the next corner. While he had no intention of sending the letter to Anne it made him feel better that his feelings for her were written down, and should he not survive the war he knew the letter would be sent on his behalf. He wanted to tell Anne how he felt, but he didn't want to say it in a letter if he could help it. He vowed once he returned home, the first chance he got, he was going to tell Anne how he felt.

With the letter tucked inside the pocket of his hospital issue dressing gown he leaned back in his chair and looked across the meadow, absentmindedly scratching at the bandage which surrounded his head. His fever seemed to have broken and he was told his headaches and dizziness would fade soon, so in two days he would be marching back up the line. A part of him looked forward to it, to be able to see Porthos and Athos again. But another part of him wanted to stay just sat watching the peaceful meadow. If he didn't think too hard he could fool himself into believing that he was looking out at the fields from his bedroom window, but the distant booming of shells ruined that peaceful thought.

He felt eyes watching him and just ignored it, since waking up he was used to the hospital staff keeping a careful watch over him. He just ignored them, but since the massacre he had become slightly nervous when people stared at him too long or approached him silently. The longer the person, or people, stared the more uneasy he got. He swallowed, trying to push down his panic. It's safe here. You're at a Hospital not in the trenches. It's fine. You're safe.

He heard the murmurings of voices, he couldn't tell if they were the voices of people he knew but he knew they were continuing to stare. He rubbed a hand over his face and was dismayed to see it shaking. He slumped forward a little so his hand covered his eyes and rested his elbow on the arm of the chair. Through the gaps in his fingers he continued to stare out at the meadow. He tensed at the sound of approaching quiet footsteps.

The footsteps stopped a few paces away. The person said nothing. Aramis shut his eyes and tried not to let his breathing become loud and ragged in his growing panic.

"Aramis"

His eyes opened wide. He slowly lowered his hand and turned his head to find Porthos standing nearby with a smile on his face and his eyes suspiciously bright with unshed tears.

"Porthos" murmured Aramis in disbelief, when he had woken up after telling the nurse Porthos' name he had remembered that his friend had been injured. The nurse assured him Porthos was fine and was back in the trenches, but Aramis found he couldn't fully believe her without seeing Porthos for himself. But his dreams and thoughts had been filled with the ghosts of the massacre and found himself doubting that Porthos was really standing in front of him. "Is it really you?"

"It's really me" confirmed Porthos,

"You're not a ghost?" checked Aramis warily.

Porthos' face looked pained at Aramis' question but he smiled again and replied, "No I'm not."

Aramis smiled and shakily got to his feet, then before he realized what was happening Porthos was hugging him tightly.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" ordered Porthos, his voice muffled by Aramis' shoulder.

Aramis chuckled for the first time in a long time, "I'll certainly do my best"

"Try harder than that" commented Porthos, he leaned back and ruffled Aramis' hair. Aramis stumbled a little so Porthos gently pushed him back into the chair.

Aramis then finally took in that Porthos was there with him. Something that wasn't normally allowed.

"What's wrong?" asked Porthos when he saw Aramis' frown, "Do you need a nurse?" he stood and was about to walk over to the nearest nurse he could see when Aramis grasped his sleeve and shook his head. Porthos then knelt down in front of him.

"I was wondering how you were allowed to come see me, normally it's not allowed" he said looking down at Porthos in confusion.

Porthos looked up at him in mock horror, "Aramis! Do you really think Captain Treville would not allow me to come and see my own cousin at the Field Hospital?!"

Aramis paused, and then burst out laughing. It was the first laugh he had had in months and found he couldn't stop. He pressed a hand against his chest and gasped for breath, but still he continued laughing.

"Porthos" chided Athos as he approached, "You're not supposed to try and kill him as soon as you find him." This only made Aramis laugh harder, that and along with Porthos' worried look that showed he was concerned that Aramis may have lost his mind.

Once Aramis had calmed down he relaxed seeing that his friends were safe and for the moment, the ghosts of his friends were leaving him in peace.

21st July 1916

Porthos was stood waiting for the men who were marching back from the Field Hospital, among them was Aramis. While he wanted Aramis at his side to make sure his brother was alright, he couldn't help but wish that Aramis was back in Kemble, far away from the trenches and safe.

He thought back on when he found Aramis at the Field Hospital. Seeing Aramis' hunched figure and the thick bandage that surrounded his head contrasting with his dark hair, he knew that it was a sight he would never forget. To him it proved that Aramis was alive, but he couldn't deny, that when Aramis looked up at him, he was worried to see Aramis' usually bright eyes were dull. Aramis asking him if he was a ghost also upset him; it showed that Aramis hadn't been left with a fever and a minor head injury. The massacre had also left him with nightmares. But he had relaxed, when Aramis began laughing hysterically his eyes brightened a little, leaving Porthos knowing that someday Aramis would heal emotionally from the massacre.

Aramis had told him and Athos how the German soldier spared him and how he had woken up about an hour later to Marsac sitting in front of him. Marsac had carried Aramis a mile away from the massacre site, Aramis asked if any others had survived. Marsac stood up, shook his head and left. Leaving Aramis to haul himself to his feet and stumble through the woods with no rations, no map and no weapon. Luckily for Aramis he stumbled towards a road, there he collapsed at the feet of two British soldiers from a different Division. They took him to the Field Hospital where his dogtags were accidentally removed leaving no one sure who he was and which Division he was from. And also left his friends unsure where Aramis had gone, and if he was even alive.

Hearing the story made Porthos want to kill Marsac himself, leaving a wounded man alone in an area he didn't know was unspeakable. Aramis, to Porthos' shock, had no ill will towards Marsac and was even saddened to hear that Marsac had been found guilty of desertion and shot.

Porthos was brought out of his musings at the sound of marching footsteps; he looked and saw the healed men marching towards him. Soon the men halted, he spotted Aramis standing tall in his uniform and waited as the men were told to fall out. Aramis walked over to him smiling.

Porthos clapped Aramis on the shoulder and said, "Good to have you back brother."

A/N There should be about another five chapters left in this story, thanks for reading!