A/N- WARNING- there are a few swear words in this chapter. But you can hardly blame Porthos.
The moment Athos saw Porthos coming out of the garrison kitchens with a bowl full of chicken legs, he had sent d'Artagnan to find Aramis.
"d'Artganan, is there a reason you are fidgeting in my door way?" Treville asked the young man who had been hovering for a while. D'Artagnan had been waiting for the conversation between his captain and Aramis to finish but apparently he had been spotted and now both men were looking at him with raised brows.
"Er...I...Athos sent me for Aramis?" d'Artagnan answered, "He said to say 'Porthos has a bowl full of chicken'."
"Oh hell," Aramis' shoulders dropped and his head turned heaven wards. Treville began to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"Well, I'm not getting any work out of you for the rest of the day," Treville sighed. Aramis looked at him somewhat apologetically but Treville just gestured to the door, "Go. See to Porthos."
"Thank you," Aramis said as he made his way to the door and hustled d'Artagnan into moving back down into the yard.
In the yard, Athos was watching with folded arms and a weary expression as Porthos wolfed down another chicken leg. d'Artagnan sat down next to Porthos but did not say a word. Aramis, however, slid in the space besides Athos directly opposite Porthos and whispered to the former, "Has he said anything?"
Athos shook his head. Aramis took a breath and then reached across the table and gently started pulling the bowl of chicken away. Porthos growled and tried to stop it but when he looked up properly and saw Aramis with his all too caring eyes, he gave up the fight.
"Right then," Aramis said as he moved the relinquished bowl as far out of reach as possible, "You want to talk?"
Porthos dropped his head again. D'Artagnan didn't think he had ever seen the man look so forlorn. It was quite unsettling.
Aramis, however, had dealt with similar before only this time he did feel a little under informed, "I didn't know you were seeing someone?"
Porthos' head snapped up then, "I'm not."
That threw Aramis off slightly, "Then, forgive me but-"
"It's Alice," Porthos interrupted.
"I thought Alice-" d'Artagnan began but Athos stopped him with a sharp glare. The Gascon was about to protest but then he saw the way Aramis was looking at Porthos. He was waiting like he knew Porthos would open up but only in his own time. Sure enough, a few moments later.
"I saw her," Porthos huffed, "I saw her coming out of the church. With a red guard. Kissing."
Once again, Athos had to halt d'Artagnan from reacting, with a glare. There was only really one person who could handle Porthos in this situation and he was reaching across to put a hand on Porthos' arm but he still did not speak. Aramis knew this was all about the listening for now.
"A red guard," Porthos mumbled and then suddenly he banged a fist hard onto to the table, "A fucking red guard!" The venom and force at which Porthos acted made d'Artganan instinctively move back slightly and even Athos unfolded his arms and raised a brow.
Aramis didn't flinch, he merely reached across to the bowl he had moved earlier and handed Porthos a chicken leg. Porthos grabbed it and munched straight in.
"Ok?" Aramis asked when he had finished.
"Yeah," Porthos nodded solemnly, "Sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Aramis told him firmly grabbing both of the man's hands and making him look at him, "You hear me."
"I want to kill that red guard."
"No you don't."
"I do. I want to ring his scrawny fucking little neck."
"No you don't."
Porthos stopped before responding to Aramis again and glared at him. For a few seconds he hated that all he saw back in his friend's eyes was a true deep understanding of why he was really hurting so much and then he felt relieved. He wouldn't have to admit it out loud. He wouldn't have to say that he felt Alice had betrayed him. That when he saw her that afternoon, it felt like someone had reached into his chest, pulled his heart out and then proceeded to trample over it with the might of a hundred horses. His friend just knew.
Porthos squeezed the hands that had hold of his and Aramis smiled slightly understanding once again.
d'Artagnan had watched the whole exchange with puzzlement but Athos could read the men as well as they could read each other so he joined the conversation with a question,
"Shall we get drunk?"
Aramis and Porthos both laughed at that.
"Definitely," Porthos agreed. As they began to walk away from the table, he said to Aramis, "I still want to kill that guard."
"Oh, I know. I'll help you bury the body."
...