Author note: Last chapter, thanks for all the reviews and favourites.

Chapter Four

Porthos helped Aramis down to the ground and wandered off to see what Athos was doing. D'Artagnan joined Aramis flopping to the floor in a most ungainly way without the use of his hands.

'You OK?' asked Aramis eyeing the young man with concern.

D'Artagnan glanced over to Athos.

'Ah…I am not the only one who has been on the receiving end of his mood then?'

'He's not normally this short with me. I know he can be firm but he's being quite irritable.'

Porthos returned to sit with them, he glanced over to Athos before speaking.

'I think he's ill.'

Aramis and d'Artagnan looked at him.

'He looks flushed and he's really grumpy, do you think his wound is infected?'

'Surely not, it's too soon, he was only injured a few hours ago?' said d'Artagnan.

'Let's not jump to conclusions, we're all tired, it could just be that. We'll keep an eye on him,' said Aramis quietly.

Athos returned to them, he had a handful of berries that he passed to Aramis, 'share those out.'

Aramis did as he was told giving some to Porthos and then helping d'Artagnan to eat a few. It was not much but they were glad of it. Aramis glanced at Athos, he looked hot and was shivering every so often.

He looked back at Porthos and nodded. Athos was clearly not well. Their day was not getting any better.

'Athos, how long have you been ill for?' asked Aramis turning back to the swordsman.

Athos looked at him confused, 'I'm not ill…I'm not the one slowing us down or not pulling their weight.'

'OK Athos, why don't you try to sleep for a bit, we'll push on in the morning.'

'You probably won't be able to move by then…' mumbled Athos as he lay down and turned his back on them.

Aramis watched him for a few minutes, when he was sure Athos was asleep he reached out and felt the back of his neck.

'He is very warm…but the wound…' he gently pulled up Athos' shirt sleeve to reveal the gun shot injury, which was barely a scratch across his arm, '…is not infected.'

'So, what's caused him to be feverish?' asked d'Artagnan.

'Any number of things…I hate to ask, but do you think you two could get back to the camp and see if there is anything left?'

'Will you be OK on your own with him?' asked Porthos concerned.

'As it gets worse, which it will, he'll probably just sleep so I shouldn't have a problem with him, but we need to get warm clothes, food and water. This is not really the best place to be dealing with a fever.'

The others agreed. Porthos rose and helped d'Artagnan up, they continued on towards the camp. Aramis could only hope that the gang had left, leaving their belongings behind.

Aramis watched his friends go, then returned his attention to Athos who despite running a temperature was shivering.

'I'm sorry, my friend,' he said even though Athos was sleeping, 'I can't do anything for you.'

He lay down beside Athos and hoped that his proximity would help to warm his ill friend.

MMMM

They had a few hours of daylight left, but it felt darker as they progressed through the woods. With just the two of them they were able to move faster. They did not talk, Porthos helping d'Artagnan over the more challenging terrain where necessary. The one thing that continued to worry Porthos was what kind of state their camp would be in? And would the gang still be there?

As they neared the area of the camp they slowed and walked as quietly as they could. Eventually Porthos knew he would have to proceed alone. It was too difficult for him to watch out for d'Artagnan and himself. He stopped and indicated for d'Artagnan to sit down.

'I'm sorry, you'll have to wait here, we're going to be too loud together.'

D'Artagnan nodded, 'I understand, be careful.'

Porthos stood up and with a last glance at d'Artagnan he continued towards the camp. As he neared, he paused frequently and listened, he could not hear anything. He reached the break in the trees that they had left by that morning.

The camp was deserted. Porthos sighed with relief. He turned and called out to d'Artagnan who responded that he was on his way.

Moving into the camp Porthos surveyed the damage. The horses were gone, but he had expected that. There was no sign of their weapons, which again he was expecting. But their bed rolls, doublets and some other items had been left, they were in disarray but that did not matter. He looked around the area where Aramis had slept the night before. His medical kit was still there, untouched. At least they would be able to properly clean and dress their injuries now.

D'Artagnan walked through the remains of their camp and joined him.

'Sit there and let's get ourselves dealt with first,' said Porthos indicating for d'Artagnan to sit on the ground by him.

'Aramis would insist,' he agreed as he managed to make himself comfortable, sitting cross legged with his hands resting on his knees.

Porthos carefully washed and bandaged d'Artagnan's hands. The burns did not look as bad as they had but were obviously still causing the young man issues. Once bandaged up d'Artagnan was able to help Porthos wrap a dressing over the burn on his arm.

'At least it still looks clean, does it hurt?'

'If I use the arm it's painful, but otherwise not much…did they leave us any food?'

Porthos watched as d'Artagnan poked about their bags, before fumbling a bit and gingerly picking up a small parcel from Athos' bag.'

'Bread and some dried meat.'

'Excellent,' said Porthos taking the parcel and putting it into Aramis' medical bag.

They collected their jackets and some blankets together with some water, 'let's head back,' said d'Artagnan, 'we should be able to make it before it's completely dark.'

MMMM

When they returned to Athos and Aramis there was very little light left. Both their friends were sleeping huddled together. Athos looked pale and sweaty. They were both shivering, Porthos lay a couple of the blankets over the sleeping musketeers before turning to d'Artagnan.

'Can you gather some dry wood, we'll get a fire going,' he said.

D'Artagnan wandered around the small clearing and managed to collect enough wood to start a reasonable fire. Now that his hands had been bandaged he found that he could pick up things. It was awkward but not as painful as it had been before they were bandaged.

He watched as Porthos lit some kindling and gradually fed the fire. Aramis stirred and turned on his back before realising he was not alone. He sat up blinking at them.

'How are you?' asked Porthos handing him his doublet.

'Cold,' replied Aramis as he struggled into his jacket, eventually accepting Porthos' help when his bruised arm and sore shoulders would not cooperate.

'Athos?'

'He woke up a couple of times but wasn't making any sense. Hopefully it won't get any worse. Next time he wakes we need to get some water in him. Did you dress your wound?'

D'Artagnan smirked, 'of course he did, we know better than that.' He held out his own bandaged hands, Aramis smiled.

They sat for a few minutes hoping that the activity would rouse Athos but he remained asleep.

'You two sleep for a bit, I'll be able to stay awake now,' said Aramis.

D'Artagnan was glad of the chance to properly rest. He knew Porthos was struggling to stay awake as well. They settled down by the fire. The pull of sleep took them within minutes.

MMMM

Athos awoke to find three sleeping musketeers surrounding him. The fire was in danger of going out so he shuffled over and added a few bits of wood. Once the flames had started to build again he moved back to his place next to Aramis. He noticed the water skin held loosely in his friend's hand. Realising Aramis must have been waiting for him to wake to give him water he took the skin and drank.

He felt hot and cold and his muscles were aching, he realised he had a fever, or at least was getting over one.

He thought about what had happened and sighed when he remembered how irritable he had been with them earlier. He regretted his actions, but knew it was because he was unwell. He knew they would not hold it against him.

'Are you feeling better?' asked Aramis.

Athos looked down at the marksman and smiled. Aramis pulled himself up and once settled in a seated position he reached up and felt Athos skin. Athos did not stop him.

'You're not as hot as you were.'

'I'm sorry, I hadn't realised I was that ill.'

Aramis raised an eyebrow.

'Yes, I know, I should have said…but it crept up on me.'

Aramis smiled and nodded, 'yes you should have told us. We were quite concerned.'

'Did I…say anything…inappropriate?'

Aramis smirked, 'you managed to snap at us all, more than once.'

'Sorry.'

'That's how we knew you weren't well.'

'Oh.'

'Now,' said Aramis, 'drink and eat and then rest some more. We need you better, at least well enough to walk on your own…'

Athos stared at Aramis not understanding.

'…because I'm going to need help walking. Your fever is getting better quicker than my bruised leg is.'

'Who would have thought that so many small injuries could cause such an issue.'

Aramis nodded his agreement as he shared out some of the bread and urged Athos to drink some more water.

The End

Authors note: Sorry it was only a little fever! I'll work up to giving one of them a proper infected nasty fever at some point.

I have an idea of where this could progress to. Those baddies might not have gone as far away as I first thought. But I don't have the story fully formed yet, so you may have to wait a bit.