Hello all :) As always, thank you all for your comments. I enjoy reading them and I'm blown away by the support I have received for this story. You all rock! I hope you enjoy this next chapter, where our Inseparables are finally reunited with their cherished Gascon. Ah, the feels! So, let me hold you up no longer...Read on!

Cindy

Chapter 6

They rode hard through the streets, the four riders silent as they raced to the edge of the city, the woman in the lead. The three musketeers followed closely behind, their eyes glued to the street ahead, sheer determination showing on their faces, contrasting deeply with the fear and guilt they each felt in their hearts. Occasionally, Athos would glance at his wife's back and memories would flow through his mind…good and bad. He didn't trust the woman, fearing that she could be leading them into a trap, but if she could lead them to d'Artagnan, then he would deal with the rest when the time came. In the meantime, he would keep a close eye on her. If it was a trap, he would not hesitate to run her through. For the moment however, his only concern was finding their young brother and bringing him home. He had much to make amends for and Athos swore that he would do everything in his power to do just that, if he was given the opportunity. He prayed to a god he wasn't sure he still believed in that they would find d'Artagnan and that he would not only be alive, but also forgiving. He knew he didn't deserve the boy's forgiveness, but he craved it none the less. Athos was brought out of his thoughts when Milady held up a slim hand and slowed her pace.

"What is it?" Athos queried as he came even with his wife.

"We are getting close, and someone is coming," Milady answered, her blue eyes squinting through the darkness. "Come, we must hide. If it is who I think it is, we certainly do not want him to see us," she added as she moved her horse to the cover of an alleyway. The three Inseparables moved warily to the alleyway, all ready for any unexpected assault. It seemed they all held Athos' suspicion of a trap. They all sat silently, their hands on their weapons as they listened to the sound of an approaching carriage. When it passed slowly by and they saw who was inside, the three men thankful for the faint light provided by the half moon, they looked at each other with anger in their eyes.

"Richelieu," Porthos hissed, his lip curled in disgust.

"This cannot be good," Aramis added as he glanced at his two friends.

"Come…we must hurry!" Milady called from in front of them. "I feel that d'Artagnan is running out of time. The cardinal would not leave unless he has either gotten what he wants or has finally grown tired of the boy's stubbornness. In either case he will have ordered his death!"

The three men exchanged glances then kicked their horses into gear. "Then we must ride with great haste!" Athos cried as he led the way out of the alleyway. Milady took the lead and soon they were coming to a halt once again, just out of sight and ear shot of the guards standing sentry at the old building.

"This is where they are holding d'Artagnan?" Porthos asked as he eyed each of the three guards who stood leaning against the side of the building.

"Yes," Milady answered. She quietly dismounted her horse and looked behind her to make sure the others were following suit.

"How many guards are there?" Aramis asked as he pulled his sword from its sheath.

"Three in front and three in back. I do not know if there are more inside. I heard d'Artagnan's cries from the cellar. There is an entrance in the back and I am sure there is one inside as well since Richelieu went through the front door when I followed him earlier," Milady responded.

"What do you mean you heard d'Artagnan's cries?" Athos asked, his voice filled with concern.

"What? Do you think they are having a party down there?" Milady asked incredulously. "They call Gregoire an interrogator, but he is nothing more than a sadistic torturer. He will do anything to get his prisoners to talk."

"Dear God," Aramis whispered, his dark eyes shimmering at the revelation.

"There are no cries now," Porthos added, his heart filled with dread as he cast his gaze to his two friends.

"We must hurry! Porthos, Aramis…you take the back! I will take out the three in the front," Athos commanded as he began to move forward. The two musketeers nodded and silently slipped away, keeping to the cover of the shadows cast by the moonlight.

"And what about me?" Milady queried coolly once Porthos and Aramis were out of sight.

"You will stay back here. We…"

"I will not stay back! I am the one who brought you here! I care about the boy as much as you do!" Milady cried.

Athos grabbed the woman's arm and pulled her to him. "You care only about yourself. I am not sure why you are helping d'Artagnan…if you truly are, but…"

"What do you mean if I truly am? I brought you here, did I not?"

"Yes, you did…and it could very well be a trap. We do not know for sure that d'Artagnan is even in there!"

"This is not a trap! You are wasting time that d'Artagnan does not have! You will not keep me from this fight!"

Athos eyed his wife warily then finally nodded. "Very well, but know this…I will not further endanger d'Artagnan to save you if you wind up in trouble. You will be on your own," he said.

"Do not worry, I am used to being on my own," Milady hissed, her cold eyes glaring at her estranged husband.

"Be quick…and silent. We do not wish to draw attention from anyone who may be inside," Athos instructed as he silently made his way to d'Artagnan's prison.

The fight to gain entrance to the small structure was short lived, the red guard poorly prepared for the skill of the Inseparables. Within minutes, six guards lay dead or dying and Athos and Milady stood before the front door, preparing for another fight as Athos quietly pushed the door open. Porthos and Aramis joined he and Milady at the front of the building, their efforts to enter the cellar through the back entrance thwarted when they found that it was chained shut. They entered silently, Athos in the lead, followed by Milady, then Porthos, with Aramis bringing up the rear. They were surprised to find no other guard inside except for one who stood sentry at the top of the stairs leading down to the cellar. The poor man barely had time to register the four figures before his cry of alarm was cut off when Milady's dagger buried itself into his throat.

"Nice throw," Porthos breathed out, his dark eyes wide as he looked from the dead man to the woman beside him. Milady merely shrugged in reply as she moved forward and pulled her dagger from the guard's neck.

"Be silent…we do not know how many guard may be in the cellar," Athos commanded as he moved toward the head of the stairs. Suddenly, the sound of a deep, rage filled voice, followed by a very weak, barely audible "no" carried up from the cellar and any sense of stealth was gone as the three musketeers tore down the stairs, Milady on their heels. Athos threw himself with desperation against the door as he reached the bottom and nearly fell when it immediately gave way. The scene that met he and his brothers was one that filled them with horror. A giant of a man stood behind a barely conscious and very naked d'Artagnan, his large hands splayed over the Gascon's stomach as he held the young man to his torso. d'Artagnan's braies lay pooled around his ankles and it didn't take a genius to figure out what the large man's intentions were.

"d'Artagnan!" Athos screamed as terror filled his heart. He raced forward, his eyes filled with hatred as he turned his attention to the monster who was now rushing toward he and his comrades. "Aramis! Get to d'Artagnan! Porthos and I will take care of this!" Athos hollered just as the giant man collided with him, sending him crashing into the wall behind him.

Aramis spared a quick glance toward his friends before he rushed across the cellar to where d'Artagnan hung suspended by his arms from a beam that ran the length of the cellar ceiling, fully trusting the other two to take care of the threat so he could help their brother. His eyes filled with tears as he saw the condition the Gascon was in. Fresh blood trailed from a wound at the boy's hairline, just above his left ear, down to his chin where it steadily dripped down to the dirt floor below. Aramis cast his eyes over the young man, the sound of the fight raging across the room dulled by his worry for his friend and brother. He sensed someone behind him and swung around, his fist held ready, only to see the shocked face of Milady de Winter, her blue eyes wide as she stared at the unconscious Gascon. She knelt down, her hands reaching for the braies that were pooled at d'Artagnan's feet, but was stopped when Aramis grabbed her arm and pushed her back.

"Do not touch him," Aramis hissed before turning his attention back to his friend. He reached down and pulled the braies up the Gascon's slim frame, securing the laces at his hips, his eyes once again filled with unshed tears. If they had been even a few minutes later, things could have been much, much worse he thought as he once again began his assessment of d'Artagnan's condition. The boy's body was littered with cuts and bruises. Dried and fresh blood ran down his arms from where shackles held his wrists, the tender flesh cut and swollen where the sharp edges of the shackles had dug in. Aramis shook his head, aware that he would need both Porthos and Athos to help get the young man down. He was just about to move behind the boy when without warning, a large body rammed into him and send him flying across the room. He hit the wall, the air knocked from his lungs, and slid to the floor in a daze. He looked up with blurry eyes to find find that the monster, Gregoire, had once again moved behind d'Artagnan. Athos and Porthos staggered into Aramis' line of vision, their eyes wide as Gregoire tangled his hand in d'Artagnan's hair and yanked his head back, revealing his vulnerable throat and eliciting a soft groan from the slowly awakening young man. Gregoire produced a knife and held it threateningly to d'Artagnan's throat.

"Stay back, musketeer scum or the whelp dies," Gregoire hissed, the edge of the knife pressing against d'Artagnan's throat, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Get your hands off of him," Porthos threatened, his voice more of a growl, his eyes filled with rage.

The monster laughed as he yanked d'Artagnan's head back further, pulling a cry from the young man's throat. d'Artagnan's eyes fluttered open, but appeared to see nothing as they stared dully ahead into the dim lit room. "The boy is dead, no matter what you do. I will slit his throat the second you move," the large man threatened.

"And you will die the next second," Athos said, his eyes narrowed as he stared the big man down.

Milady watched in horror as the man pressed the knife even harder to the Gascon's throat. She wrapped her slim fingers around her dagger, ready to let it fly if she was given a good shot. Behind her, Aramis slowly pushed himself to his feet. He watched the man who held d'Artagnan, sure that he had been forgotten, or dismissed as not a threat. He prayed that he was correct as he carefully pulled his wheellock pistol from his belt, the gun already readied with ammunition. He glanced quickly at his friends as they parried threats against Gregoire, then turned his attention back to the large man. He dared not look at d'Artagnan's face lest the blank look in the young man's eyes lessen his resolve. He patiently waited for a chance and when Gregoire moved, ever so slightly, Aramis quickly raised the pistol and fired. The three musketeers lunged forward as the large man, eyes wide with pain and surprise staggered back, the knife he'd held dropping uselessly to the floor. They reached d'Artagnan as the large man looked down at the quickly blossoming bloodstain in his gut. They paid no mind as he fell to his knees and didn't even notice as he fell the rest of the way to the floor, blood gurgling from his lips as his life slowly drained from him.

The three Inseparables attention was fully focused on their brother, their eyes taking in each cut and bruise, their hands gently ghosting over his body as they carefully stood him up to relieve the weight on his wrists. "I'll hold him up…you two find a way to get him down," Porthos said as he carefully wrapped his arms around d'Artagnan and held him to his chest, the young man's head dropping to rest on the bigger man's shoulder. He whispered words nobody could hear as Aramis and Athos searched for the keys to unlock the shackles, Athos finally finding them stuffed in the dying Gregoire's pocket. He hurriedly reached up and unlocked first one, then the other shackle. Aramis carefully removed the shackle from his right wrist as Athos took care of the left. They gently lowered his arms, both noting the soft groan as the movement caused pain for their young friend. Porthos took the bulk of d'Artagnan's weight once the shackles were removed, the Gascon having zero strength to hold himself up. He swept the nearly unconscious young man up into his arms and turned toward the door. Milady moved up beside him, her hand reaching toward the Gascon's face. Her hand was slapped away, her eyes darting to meet those of her husband.

"Do not touch him!" Athos threatened, his lip curled into a sneer.

"I led you here! I helped save him," Milady hissed in response.

"You are the reason he is here in the first place! You took him when he was vulnerable and then you let Richelieu know that you had him!" Athos growled as he pushed himself between Milady and d'Artagnan.

"I was doing what I was hired to do! I did not know that he would do this!"

"I do not want to hear your pathetic excuses!"

"Stop it, you two. We need to get d'Artagnan out of here. I cannot access his injuries until we have him somewhere safe!" Aramis snapped, his dark eyes flashing with anger as they moved from Athos to Milady and back.

Athos dropped his eyes in shame. "Aramis is right. We need to get d'Artagnan someplace safe and warm…"

"You can bring him to my apartments. I have all that you need to take care of him," Milady offered.

"I think not. It will be best to take him to the garrison. We have the infirmary there, and all the protection we will need in case the cardinal decides to come after the lad," Aramis said as the group started to move toward the door, d'Artagnan held safely in Porthos' arms.

"Richelieu would not dare try to take him from you. He will want to distance himself from this entire thing," Milady said as she hurried behind the three men and their precious cargo.

Athos looked over his shoulder and nodded. "Still, we cannot take a chance. Richelieu knows where you reside and since you know where my apartments are, I cannot trust that you have not relayed that information to the cardinal as well. The garrison is the safest place to take him," he said before turning back around and following his brothers up the stairs.

The musketeers and Milady stepped out into the cool night air and all drew in deep breaths as they looked around for any hidden dangers. Once they were sure that all was safe, they hurried to where they had left their horses. Athos quickly mounted his horse then reached his arms down as Porthos carefully lifted d'Artagnan to him. The young man groaned as he was settled against Athos' chest, his head cradled beneath the older man's chin, one of Athos' arms wrapped securely, yet gently around his torso. Aramis and Porthos were soon in their saddles and looking to Athos to lead the way. The man gave them a quick nod then looked down into the upturned face of his wife.

"I owe you my thanks for leading us to d'Artagnan. Now, I ask that you leave and never show your face to me again," he said.

"Where is it that you think I could go? The cardinal will know that it was me who led you to the boy. My life is now in danger because I helped you."

"Do not blame your predicament on me. You are to blame for all that befalls you. If you fear the cardinal, then leave Paris and never return," Athos hissed.

"But d'Artagnan…I must know…"

"You will never lay another finger on him! You have done enough damage to him. If you try to come near him again, I will kill you," Athos warned. He lifted his gaze from the woman then nodded at his friends. He looked down at the young man and frowned as the young man had begun to shiver. Before he even had the chance to ask, Porthos eased his horse up alongside him and draped his jacket over d'Artagnan's body. He grinned when Athos gave him a thankful nod. Together the Inseparables turned their horses toward the heart of Paris, Aramis and Porthos on either side of Athos and their youngest brother. They left Milady standing in the street, her cool blue eyes following them as the disappeared from sight. Athos spared one last glance over his shoulder then turned to each of his brothers.

"Let us take our brother home," he softly drawled as he gently tugged the young man tighter to his chest.

Aww, they're taking him home where he belongs. We'll have to see if he remains there once he has recovered. Thanks for reading!

Cindy