Hey! Look at me...posting twice in the same week! Woohoo! This is a shorter chapter, but with the weekend upon me I wanted to get something out since I only work on my stories at work. This is just a little fluff chapter between our four favorite guys. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 10 – Watching Over the Gascon

He looked peaceful, like he was just sleeping and not broken and drugged, but then, every now and again, his brow would crease and he would let out a soft cry as his head rolled on the pillow beneath it, the young man caught in an obviously dark dream. Athos would take his hand and squeeze it just a little bit to let him know that he was not alone. d'Artagnan would quiet then. His head would turn until he faced his mentor and he would be peaceful again, until the next time. Athos sighed as he watched the young man and wished fervently that the dreams would let the Gascon be. He itched to make the journey down beneath the manor, to the room that held Amyot, but he couldn't leave the boy alone to wake up with nobody beside him, with nobody to chase the dreams away when they came. Porthos and Aramis were still dead to the world and Athos would not waken them to take his place. Not yet. He needed this time with the lad, even if he was loathe to admit it. He wondered, not for the first time since starting his watch, when he had come to care so much for the young recruit. Had it been for some time now and he just hadn't known? Or was it upon seeing him in such a horrific state, but still hanging on to his loyalty like a lifeline? Athos did not know, nor could he bring himself to worry too much over it. The only thing that mattered was that he did care. He cared a lot, and it both terrified him and left him with a warmth inside that he thought he had lost all those years ago when Thomas lay dead at his feet. Not only did he have a protégé to guide and teach all that he knew, but he also had a little brother again. One that he felt such fierce protectiveness over that it scared him. What would it do to him to lose this boy who he had only just come to know? He shuddered at the thought. Another soft cry from the man in the bed brought him out of his musings and he reached down once again to take the Gascon's hand.

"Shh, d'Artagnan. I am here and you are safe," Athos whispered as he gently rubbed his thumb over the back of d'Artagnan's hand. "I will not leave you," he added as a solemn vow.

"'thos?" came a hoarse whisper from the Gascon. Athos leaned over the young man and watched his face screw up in pain. He squeezed his hand with one of his while he moved the other hand to brush shaky fingers through d'Artagnan's sweat soaked hair.

"It's okay, d'Artagnan…breathe through the pain," Athos said as he watched his protégé's eyes flutter open and stare up at him.

"'urts," d'Artagnan gasped, the young man staring up at his mentor, pleading with his eyes for the pain to stop.

"I know it does. I will awaken Aramis so he can make you another draught," Athos said, his heart clenching as he watched his brother writhe in pain.

"Please…don't leave me…"

Athos smiled sadly as he shook his head. "I won't…Aramis is just over there, sleeping," he explained.

d'Artagnan nodded and a look of shame swept over his face. "'m sorry 'm so weak. I mus' be a disappointment," he said as he turned his head away.

Athos closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to look down at the Gascon. "Look at me, d'Artagnan," he commanded softly. He smiled when the young man finally turned and looked up at him.

"You are far from weak, my young friend. You have proven how very strong you are. Do not ever sell yourself short in that regard," Athos said emphatically. "I am so very proud of you, and so angry with myself for allowing this to happen to you."

The Gascon's eyes became suspiciously bright as he stared up at his mentor. "'s not your fault, 'thos. I was being a pain…"

"You were not being a pain, d'Artagnan. I was being an ass, however," Athos said.

The Gascon grinned slightly at this, but then a particularly sharp pain shot through his shoulder and he gasped, his hand clenching Athos' like his life depended on it. He squeezed his eyes shut as Athos instructed him to once again breathe through the pain. Finally, after several agonizing moments, d'Artagnan loosened his grip on Athos' hand and somewhat relaxed back against the mattress. Athos could see how exhausted he was and waited until the young man once again opened his eyes to look up at him.

"I'm going to wake Aramis…I'll be just across the room," Athos said. He waited until d'Artagnan reluctantly nodded then rested the boy's hand over his torso. He stood and quickly made his way to Aramis' side, then reached down and gently shook the man awake.

"Wh…what? What's wrong? d'Artagnan…" Aramis sputtered as he came awake, his eyes immediately searching out his patient.

"He's okay, Aramis…he just woke in a lot of pain," Athos said. "He needs more of the pain draught."

Aramis nodded his head and pulled himself from the small bed he lay upon. Porthos, awakened by the voices beside him, grumbled incoherently as he too dragged himself up. "'ow's the pup?" he asked as he looked up at his brothers.

"In a lot of pain, but doing as well as can be expected," Athos answered.

"'is fever?" Porthos queried with concern.

"No worse than it was before," Athos said in reply.

Aramis moved silently past Athos and went straight to d'Artagnan's side. He sat on the chair beside the bed and smiled warmly down at the young man. "I hear you are in pain," he said as he brushed his fingers over d'Artagnan's forehead. He nodded when he found that indeed, his fever had not worsened.

"'m okay, Aramis," came d'Artagnan's weak reply.

"Mmhmm…I'll be the one to decide that," Aramis said with a wink of his eye. "Now, let me mix up another batch of pain draught so you can get some rest. Do you think you could take some broth as well?" he asked.

d'Artagnan nodded. Though the thought of food made his stomach turn, he knew that he needed nourishment and besides, he didn't want to further worry his friends. Aramis smiled fondly then stood to prepare the draught. "Porthos, could you take the broth back down to the kitchen and heat it again? I would like to get at least some nourishment in our young comrade before he goes back to sleep," he called.

Porthos nodded before stepping up beside the bed. He kneeled down and gently ruffled the Gascon's hair. "'ow you feeling, pup?" he asked with the brightest smile he could muster under the circumstances.

"'m 'kay, Porthos," d'Artagnan answered tiredly.

Porthos nodded, knowing full well that the Gascon was trying to make them all feel better by downplaying how he felt. He patted d'Artagnan's good shoulder then pushed himself to his feet. "Be right back," he said as he moved to the table where Aramis was mixing together the ingredients for the draught and picked up the bowl of cold broth. Aramis smiled his appreciation and continued to mix the draught while Athos moved back to his protégé's side and sat once again in the chair.

"Amyot?" d'Artagnan asked, his voice tinged with what Athos could only surmise as fear.

"Trussed up like a Christmas turkey and locked in the room that you were held in," Athos answered, his blood boiling anew at what his young friend had been put through.

d'Artagnan took a steadying breath, then nodded. "And Jean? Is he okay?" he finally asked.

"Jean is writing out his statement to present to King Louis," Athos replied.

"Statement?"

"It seems your new friend was gathering some very important information that will help unveil a deeper plot than we had originally imagined."

"Plot?" d'Artagnan asked.

Athos sighed, suddenly remembering that d'Artagnan didn't know all that had transpired with the letter. "When you are recovered I will tell you everything. Right now, you need to rest," Athos said. "When Porthos returns you can drink your broth, then take Aramis' draught."

"But the letter was delivered safely?" d'Artagnan asked.

Athos glanced over his shoulder and met Aramis' eyes. Aramis shrugged and gave him the slightest of nods. Athos turned back to d'Artagnan. "The letter," he started, but anger at the situation and the pain it had caused their youngest stopped his words in their tracks.

"'thos?"

Athos pursed his lips as he decided if he should tell the Gascon about the letter. Of course, he would eventually have to tell him, but he wasn't sure that right now would be the best time. When he caught the expectant look in his protégé's eyes however, the decision was made. The boy deserved to know.

"The letter was a decoy of sorts. It was sent to draw out an alleged spy," Athos said. He watched as d'Artagnan's exhausted mind mulled over what he had been told. Finally, the Gascon looked up at him.

"Did it work?" he asked

"It did what it was intended to do," Athos answered.

D'Artagnan nodded, his eyes drooping as he let out a long breath. "Then all of this was worth it," he said.

Athos dropped his head and took in a shaky breath. He glanced to his side and saw that Porthos stood in the doorway and had obviously heard what the Gascon had said. Emotions warred in the large man's eyes…anger, guilt, grief…but mostly, Athos saw pride. Without a word, Porthos stepped forward and handed the broth to Athos. He went around the bed and sat on the vacant chair. He gently helped d'Artagnan raise his head while Athos held the cup to the young man's lips. Slowly, d'Artagnan drained the cup, leaving his mentor to smile proudly down at him. When he was finished with that, Aramis handed the pain draught to Athos and the process was repeated. Finally, d'Artagnan was done, his body sagging against Porthos' hold. The large musketeer ever so carefully lowered him back to the bed. The Gascon glanced up at the man and smiled appreciatively.

"Don' leave…please," d'Artagnan whispered as his eyes slipped shut and his breaths evened out.

"We ain't goin' nowhere," Porthos said fondly as he stroked the boy's arm. He sat back in his chair and glanced at his two friends. "Whelp is somethin' else, I tell ya," he said.

Aramis nodded his agreement. "Yes, he is not like anyone else I have ever met," he said. "Unless you consider his stubbornness, and in that he is exactly like Athos," he added with a grin.

"Yes, well, it seems his stubbornness has served him well," Athos said as he pushed to his feet. He spared one last glance down at d'Artagnan and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Aramis asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

Athos stopped and looked over his shoulder. "To speak to Amyot," he growled.

Uh oh, papa bear is mad. I don't feel any sympathy for Amyot though...the bastard! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this short chapter. Please let me know what you think! Take care all :)

Cindy