This one is about racism, whoever feels triggered through this, please skip this chapter! There is a happy ending to this one, but one sentence in particular isn't something for people who endured racism themselves. It's harsh and hurtful. So please skip if you aren't up to this.

And thank you all for the feedback and love on this one, I appreciate it a lot.

If you have a wish as to what I should write, please feel free to tell me :)

Aramis didn't hear what the advice resistant men of Richelieu's Red Guard had said, but it made the barrel overflow and he wasn't fast enough to catch the falling drops.

They needed to work with the other team on a case, because they required the manpower and a few bureaucratic freedoms for their operation only Richelieu could grant them in his role as a second man after their Minister Louis.
And while Treville and Richelieu got along well in private, some even claimed they had seen the two of them together in one restaurant or the other, their teams did not. And even the both of them were often anything but friendly and cooperative to each other while at work.
But Richelieu's men were on a completely different level of jealousy and meanness than their leader. They outnumbered the Musketeers but lacked behind in skill and so they tried to grind long enough on their nerves until one of them would snap and they could overwhelm them with their sheer number out of 'self-defense'.

In the end their plan worked out, but at the worst possible moment and not as they, or anybody else, had expected.

The Red Guards had picked Porthos as their target. His different skin color and background had never been a topic within the ranks of the Musketeers -he wasn't the only one with anchestors from another continent and they liked to talk about their different cultures and lifestyles when there was time- but they seemed to be a big deal for the others. There was whispering and snickering whenever they saw him and they made sure that it was clear whom they were talking about.
Athos had hold them back, all of them, spoke with Treville and even Richelieu at one point, but to no avail. All the while making sure, that none of his own men did something wrong.
Porthos had grown unusually quiet over the time of their cooperation, but said that they shouldn't listen, shouldn't feel affronted, they would just play into their hands if they reacted in any way to their words. And so, they endured it for about two weeks and a half, until finally someone snapped.

They had a shared meeting with both their Captains; probably Marcheaux and his other two companions felt safe with both their leaders in the same room and so they started a 'casual' conversation in a volume loud enough for the Musketeers to hear, but not for the other two with their backs to the room. Aramis distracted himself with the chart Treville and Richelieu stood in front of, discussing the last bits of their briefing, which showed potential tactics for their nearing mission.
Porthos stood next to him, with Athos at his other side, and all of a sudden, their Lieutenant took a few fast steps forward and punched Marcheaux straight in the face with so much force, that they could hear bones breaking before his head collided with the wall behind him with a loud thud. Blood streamed out of his nose, his eyes glassy and unseeing.
The room stood in shocked silence, all frozen but Athos, who seemed ready to punch the other man again and Aramis was the first to react. He pulled Athos back with both hands and felt him resist. Damn.
"I'll kill him" Athos said in a voice that sounded more dangerous than anything Aramis had ever heard from him before, as he pushed him none to gentle back first against the opposite wall, pressing his tight between his friends' legs and hooked a foot around his ankle, then after half a second of hesitation, in which Athos tried to free himself, he pressed his forearm against the other man's windpipe, restricting his airflow somewhat.
"You will not" he grunted, still needing much more strength to hold him back than he liked to admit. Athos eyes were nearly black and Aramis thought he could feel the adrenalin rushing through his veins. "Dear God Athos, calm down."
And then Porthos was at their side.
"Lemme take him outside. Seems that Marcheaux could need some medical attention and it wouldn't be helpful if I would go to him. 'The son of the black slut, that should have drowned her rat of a baby directly after birth, so it wouldn't breath away the air other people more worth needed' will make sure that he survives this day."
Aramis starred at him in open disbelieve. "He hasn't said that."
Athos all but growled and Aramis adjusted his grip.
"Treville and Richelieu heard it, too. The others were so engulfed in their little chat that they hadn't recognized them listening. Go and help him, I will take Athos out of here, before he gets the chance to end his work."
Aramis made sure that Porthos had a secure grip on Athos arm and shoulder before he detached himself and walked over to the downed Red Guard, a satisfied smile on his lips. He would gladly help to patch him up, just to have the chance of beating him up properly at a later time.

When the paramedics arrived, he walked out of the building and found his two friends, sitting side by side with their backs to the wall and shoulders touching, in the small garden area of the Garrison.
"He will survive. But his nose is definitely broken and most likely his cheekbone, too. But they weren't totally sure of that, x-rays will tell, but I bet it is. His eyes were already black and swollen shut by the time they put him on the gurney. Nice right hook, Lieutenant."
Athos inclined his head politely, while Porthos grinned openly, happier than he had been for the last two and a half weeks.
"I've learned from the best" he answered and side eyed Porthos, who seemed to be slightly touched by the statement.
"How's your hand?" Aramis asked and sat on his haunches right before Athos' bent knees and steadied himself with his left hand on Porthos outstretched legs and crossed ankles. Truth to be told more for both their comfort than actual balance, but Porthos was totally fine with it as he nudged Athos in the ribs with his elbow. "Show it to him."
Athos sighted but did as he was told and hissed as Aramis was instantly able to find a tender spot. Punching someone without a boxing glove wasn't as much fun as it seemed.
"There doesn't seemed to be something broken, but you should put some ice on it when we are home, so you will be able to hold a gun tomorrow."
"So, you think I still have a job then?"
"Yes, you are. As soon as you tell me that you are really sorry and acted out of being overworked for month without leave from duty, being unsatisfied with the handling of the general situation through your superiors and will take a week's leave after your appointment with the Garrisons psychiatrist after the end of our mission." Treville said from where he appeared from behind a small hedge, blocking the view of the door.
Athos looked like he wanted to argue but decided against it. "Officially?"
Treville sighted. "Yes."
"I am sorry and do as I've been told."
The Captain seemed to argue with himself before he asked: "And unofficially?"
Athos glanced at Porthos before he looked back at the older man. "It was totally worth it and I would do it again without hesitation."
Treville huffed. "Took you long enough. I've already got the impression that you would all behave and leave that brat without a well-deserved revenge. But great respect for your influence on your men Lieutenant, you kept them in check perfectly." And then after he had already turned around. "And Porthos, if Athos wouldn't have done it, someone higher ranking would have. But I never said anything more than the part about the consequences of Athos actions."
And with that he was gone again and left his three best men alone once again.

"Has he really said, that he would have punched him?" Porthos asked in open disbelieve.
"Yes. He is a great man" Aramis answered and patted Porthos leg "as are you. Let no one ever make you believe otherwise."