Happy Friday, all! I finally got some time to work on the next chapter...phew, what a week! Anyway, it isn't very long, but it says what I wanted to say and I wanted to get it posted today because I won't be back in the office until next Wednesday and I didn't want you to have to wait that long. I want to once again thank all of you for reading and a special thank you to those who take the time to comment. It means a lot to me :) So, without any further babbling, I'll let you get on with the story!

Chapter 9

"He is out there again," Aramis stated as he looked out of the window of the infirmary down to the garrison yard below. He could just make out the form of his friend and brother pacing beside the table they all shared. "He looks tired from what little I can see."

"We all look tired. 'e should be 'ere 'elping us tend to d'Artagnan," Porthos snapped as he wiped a cool cloth over d'Artagnan's neck and face.

Aramis sighed as he turned from the window and glanced at his friends. Porthos didn't look tired, he looked down right exhausted. Neither he nor Aramis had gotten much sleep, virtually none after d'Artagnan had begun to spike a fever. Aramis brushed his hand through his hair then slowly walked to the bed. He reached down and placed his hand on the Gascon's face, the medic frowning at the heat he felt there. "Damn, his fever is rising...way too high," he whispered wearily.

"Why does 'e have the fever? His wounds are not infected," Porthos wondered aloud as he glanced up at his friend.

"It is his kidneys. He most likely has a tear in one of them," Aramis answered.

"So not just bruised? What can we do?" Porthos asked as he went back to bathing the unconscious man with the cool cloth.

"I can only feed him the concoction I have brewed for him whenever he awakens enough," Aramis replied. "Trouble is, he remains unconscious longer and longer each time he falls under. He needs to fight, but I fear he is not," he added.

"He has given up. He does not wish to remain with us," Porthos whispered, his voice tinged with anger and deep sadness.

"You heard him that night, Porthos. He said that his life is forfeit if he cannot be with us," Aramis softly said.

"But 'e 'as us."

Aramis shook his head and moved to the opposite side of the bed where another chair sat. He sat down heavily and took d'Artagnan's hand in his. "As long as Athos stays away, d'Artagnan will not believe that he has us. He is injured and ill and in his pain and fever addled mind, he will always see us as we were that night. He needs Athos here so that he can start believing that there is a reason to fight."

"So, you are saying that without Athos, d'Artagnan will die?"

"That is exactly what I am saying. He needs to know that Athos does not hate him. He is not fighting because he does not think there is anything to fight for."

"Then we need to get that stubborn ass up here now!" Porthos hissed.

"I have tried, Porthos. You have tried. He refuses to believe that d'Artagnan needs him."

Porthos met Aramis' gaze and sighed. He made a move to stand, the large man intent on dragging Athos from the yard and up to the room, but then d'Artagnan cried out and his full attention was turned to the young man.

"N-no…'thos, pls…'m sry," d'Artagnan keened as his head rolled weakly from side to side. His eyes were open now, though they stared ahead at something the two musketeers could not see. Tears spilled down his red, fevered cheeks as he pled to a man who was not there to forgive him. The two men could only watch helplessly, their own tears marking trails on their faces, as d'Artagnan's distress grew. They held him firmly yet gently as he began to weakly buck on the bed, his cries resonating through the room and crushing the men who cared for him so deeply.

"Shh, shh…d'Artagnan, we are here," Aramis whispered softly, all the while praying that his brother would hear him, but it seemed that d'Artagnan was trapped in the past, begging his brothers to not cast him away.

"'e cannot 'ear us…'e is not even 'ere," Porthos cried, his dark eyes frantically searching his little brother's eyes for any sign of recognition. "Please, d'Artagnan…'ear us! We are 'ere, you cannot leave us!"

Aramis looked up at his friend, his eyes glistening as more tears filled them. "We need Athos. I fear that d'Artagnan will not last the day," he said urgently, his gaze returning to the young man when he once again began to speak.

"'thos…pls…did not know," d'Artagnan's broken voice cried as he finally collapsed back onto his bed, the young man's body trembling as he continued to mumble words that further broke his brother's hearts.

Aramis cupped the Gascon's cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears as they fell, his heart hammering in his chest. He could sense that his brother's condition was worsening and he felt helpless to stop it. He knew with all of his soul that the only thing that could bring d'Artagnan back was the presence of their eldest, but he feared that it may already be too late.

"'thos…I…does not want me…father is waiting…"

Aramis' eyes widened with terror at those words. He grasped d'Artagnan's face and turned it to meet his. "No! d'Artagnan…do not go with your father! We are here! Porthos and I are here! Please…hear me! Fight! Fight to stay with us!" he cried frantically. Across from him, Porthos could only watch, the large man paralyzed with the fear that he may be witnessing his brother's last breaths. He grasped d'Artagnan's hand with both of his and squeezed it tight, all the while praying for his Lord to not take his brother away.

Aramis continued to plead with the young man, but d'Artagnan was calling out to his father now and the medic could take no more. "No," he whispered brokenly as he dropped his head onto d'Artagnan's chest and began to weep for the brother he would soon lose. After several moments, d'Artagnan went silent and Aramis feared the worst. He lifted his head and looked up at his young friend, only to be met with two dark, pain filled eyes staring right at him.

"d'Artagnan," Aramis whispered, a small smile curling his lips. Porthos watched as the young man smiled weakly in return.

"'mis," d'Artagnan breathed out, the word barely audible, but still the most beautiful thing the medic had ever heard.

"I am here, pup…Porthos as well," Aramis responded as he gazed into eyes that recognized him.

d'Artagnan rolled his head and looked up at the large man. "P'thos," he whispered.

"Aye, d'Artagnan, it is I," Porthos said as he squeezed the young man's hand more tightly.

d'Artagnan sighed as he stared up into his brother's eyes. His breaths were now pants as the fever raged through him, but for the first time in several hours, he was somewhat coherent. He swallowed thickly and Aramis rushed to bring a cup of cool water to his lips, nodding thankfully as Porthos gently lifted the young man up enough to drink. After a few sips, d'Artagnan sagged against Porthos' hand and the big man eased him back down.

"Father is calling for me. I must go," d'Artagnan whispered, his eyes now staring off at the far wall.

The two musketeers looked at each other with renewed fear before returning their gazes to their young friend. "No, d'Artagnan. You must stay with us. Please, stay with us," Aramis pleaded as he gently turned the young man's face toward him.

"'thos does not want me…"

"'e does want you," Porthos cried pleadingly. "We all do, d'Artagnan."

d'Artagnan closed his eyes and licked his cracked lips. "He is not here," he said softly, his voice tinged with deep sadness.

"He is here! He is right outside!" Aramis cried.

"Not here…not with me," d'Artagnan responded, tears leaking out through closed lids.

"d'Artagnan…"

"Father is calling…"

"No! Do not listen! Athos will be here soon!" Aramis cried as he lurched to his feet, then headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Porthos called.

"To drag Athos' sorry ass up here!" Aramis growled as he yanked the door open. "You keep him here, Porthos! Do not let him answer his father's call!" Without waiting for Porthos to answer, Aramis threw himself out onto the landing, his eyes searching for his elder friend. His heart sank when he didn't see him, but he was determined to find the man and make him face their youngest. d'Artagnan's life depended on his success.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Aramis searched the garrison from top to bottom, even checking in with Captain Treville, who he quickly filled in on what was happening. Treville had risen from his desk, intent on going to check on Porthos and d'Artagnan, but not before telling Aramis that Athos had left the garrison barely fifteen minutes prior to their meeting. Aramis had run from the captain's office and into the streets of Paris and now found himself on a path to Athos' apartments, where he hoped to find the man brooding and drinking wine. When he reached the building that held his friend's apartments, he rushed through the outside door, ran up the steps and burst through the door to Athos' room. He let out a sigh of relief when he spotted the man sitting exactly where he hoped to find him, a goblet of wine in hand.

"Athos!" Aramis cried. "You must come now!"

Athos looked up from his wine and eyed his friend, his face devoid of any emotion. "Why? What is there for me to see?" he drawled before dropping his eyes to stare at the goblet still held in his hand.

"d'Artagnan needs you, brother," Aramis answered urgently.

Athos looked up again and shook his head. "He needs you and Porthos. He does not need me. I am poison to him," he said, the last words coming out in a hiss.

"Athos…"

"Leave, Aramis. Go take care of the lad. He will be better off without me…"

"He is dying, Athos! He will not survive the morning!" Aramis screamed, all of his fear and anger coming out in that one outburst.

Athos jumped to his feet, his blue eyes now wide and filled with fear. "What!?" he cried as he stepped toward his friend.

Aramis shook his head and met his friend's gaze. "He refuses to fight. He has given up, Athos. He calls for you and you are not there. He thinks that you hate him and for that reason, he intends to answer his father's call," he explained, his voice filled with sadness.

"But he was doing well when I left. He…"

"It is his kidneys, Athos. They were damaged. At first I hoped they were only bruised, but then the fever hit and it continues to rise so it can only mean that he has a tear," Aramis said.

"But you are doing all that you can, right?"

"There is nothing I can do for that, Athos. He has to fight it in order for his body to heal and he is not doing that. He has lost hope that you still care for him."

Athos shook his head as he stepped closer. "But he has you and Porthos..and Treville…"

"It is not enough. We are not enough. He has us, but he needs you. If you cannot drop the stubborn act, he will die…if he has not done so already."

Athos lifted his hand to his mouth and let out a soft sob. "It is that dire?" he finally asked as he stared pleadingly at his brother.

"It is," Aramis answered. "You must go to him, Athos. It is the only way to save him."

Athos closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, he opened them and Aramis saw something that had been missing, but was desperately needed. He saw determination, where before there was only guilt and despair. His heart leapt as Athos reached for his hat and rushed toward him.

"Come, Aramis. Our brother needs us…not just me, but all of us! I am so sorry for not listening to you and seeing it. How could I have been so stupid?" Athos cried as he hurried past Aramis and out the door.

Aramis hurried after his brother and soon they were racing through the streets of Paris, each lost in his own thoughts, but both praying they were not too late.

Oi, but that Athos can be a dense man sometimes! At least now he has come around...hopefully in time! So please let me know what you think. I really look forward to reading your comments! Take care!

Cindy