Disclaimer: I do not own Albert the Fifth Musketeer or the characters

Chapter Six

The doctor entered the infirmary, ready to give the Musketeers their bandage changes, and make certain Albert was either sleeping or eating. He was surprised to see the youngest of the Musketeers was asleep by D'Artagnan's bedside again. He let out a quiet sigh and stepped over to him. If I wake him, he might not go back to sleep, but I can't leave him here...I guess I'll have to move him to the cot myself. So, he bent down and carefully picked up the petit male, then carried him back over to his own bedding. He lay the blond down gently and put a blanket over him. Now, I hope he stays here. He then took out more bandages and poultice and returned to D'Artagnan's bedside.

Captain de Treville returned from the Louvre, and decided the first place he would go was the infirmary, just to check up on his Musketeers. He quietly entered and saw all of them were asleep, though to his surprise, Albert wasn't in his bed. Where could he have gone to? He scanned the room, and there the petit Musketeer was, right by D'Artagnan's bedside again.

The doctor returned and shook his head. "This will be the third time I've had to put him back in his own bed."

"As uncomfortable as that can be, it looks like he's only able to sleep peacefully if he's right by D'Artagnan's side."

"Yes, you're right. I even saw him get up earlier and return there. Why do you suppose that is?"

"For some reason, Albert has always been close to D'Artagnan. I can't say why though."

"So, it's comforting to be near him at this time?"

"I believe so." The Captain sighed. "We'll have to find a way to make certain he is right near him, just so he doesn't have to keep sleeping there." He moved to the beds and stood by Albert. He carefully shook his shoulder. "Albert, wake up."

The blond stirred and slowly opened his eyes. "Sir?"

"You can't keep sleeping there. It can't be very comfortable."

He sat up. "No, I guess it isn't."

"You should go back to your bed."

"Sir...I can't sleep there."

"What do you mean?"

"I...can we please talk about it later?"

"Alright. Dinner time then."

"Yes, Sir."

"For now, return to your cot, and we'll try to come up with something later."

"Yes, Sir." He rose to his feet and returned to the cot.

D'Artagnan was the first to wake before dinner was brought in, and he was a little surprised to see Albert resting by his bed again. "Albert?"

He stirred and looked up at the brunette. "Oh dear, I've done it again..."

"You can't be very comfortable like that. I thought you had a bed set up in here too."

"I did, but I can't sleep on it. It's as if being right here is what allows me to rest easier."

"Why is that?"

"While I lie on the cot, I find my thoughts always return, though they're not just I was too late, they also involve why wasn't I there to prevent this? I wasn't there..."

He sighed. "The Cardinal's Guards made certain you weren't. You can't let guilt over what happened rule over you. I don't think you even ate any more of your lunch, did you?"

"No. The thought of eating made me feel a little sick."

"I see. So, trying to sleep here has actually made you feel more at peace? Why?"

"Maybe it's just because I can."

"Because you can?"

"I think I'm so overcome with the relief that you're still alive, that I can just simply close my eyes and sleep."

"But, you can't do that on your own bed?"

"No. Because it's no different to lying in a solitary room, or at least, that's what it feels like."

"I see." He looked to the ceiling. "Did you ever have this habit in the past? Of staying close to someone who survived an ordeal?"

"I did, only it wasn't that they had survived, it was that they hadn't died yet."

"Who was it?"

"My mother."

He turned to him, forgetting briefly about the cuts on his shoulder. He winced. "Your mother?"

"When I was a child, my mother fell ill. I found myself getting into her and my father's bed every night, just so I could feel her warmth, and remind myself that she was still there. But, one night, my father told me to stay out of the bed. I couldn't...and then that was when I'd found out my mother..."

"Oh, Albert. I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"I don't like to talk about it, to be honest. It's still distressing, remembering the difference in her body. Normally, she was warm and soft, but that night, she was cold and..."

"So, this is also related to a past trauma?" the doctor questioned as he approached the cot. He'd entered with five bowls of broth for the Musketeers to eat once they'd woken.

"Doctor! How long were you standing there?" D'Artagnan questioned.

"Not long, I just came in. I couldn't help but overhear the conversation."

"It's alright, Doctor," Albert replied. "I think you might be right."

"You continued to return to D'Artagnan's bedside throughout the afternoon, no matter how often the Captain and I returned you to your own bed. You said that you do this just because you can. Are you scared that one day, if you do not, then D'Artagnan would not be here when you finally get another chance to?"

"No. It's more like my concern is that if I don't return to D'Artagnan's bedside...then he might die before I awake..."

"Well, we'll have to find a way to keep you close to him without causing yourself any discomfort. That is, if D'Artagnan doesn't mind?"

The brunette shook his head. "It's alright. I said it this morning, Albert needs to recover as much as we do, and if any methods need to be taken, then we'll have to take them."

"Good. Well, dinner first, and then we'll discuss what can be done." He looked over to the other three. "Hmm, that's funny, aren't they usually awake once the smell of food fills the room?"

D'Artagnan turned to Albert and saw his eyes were wide with fear. "Calm down, Albert. They're alright, you can hear them snoring."

"You're right..." Albert breathed.

"They must still be tired. Last night, it was hard to sleep with the amount of pain we were in. And don't even think about it."

"Think about it?"

"Your thoughts were about to take that turn again. I saw it coming."

The doctor looked thoughtful. "You both appear very close. Why is that?"

"It's simple, really. Not long after I joined the Musketeers, Albert joined as well. We're both practically the new boys. Well, aside from Brizzle."

"Also, after our first mission together, I found myself feeling I'd let everyone down. We almost didn't succeed. D'Artagnan was the one who told me otherwise, and it helped me to trust him immensely," Albert added. "Since then, we just became close friends."

"Plus, I guess someone's got to look out for me."

The doctor nodded. "That is true, you do seem to get yourself in trouble a lot. So, you're both like brothers then. I understand."

"Brothers?" D'Artagnan looked at Albert, who returned the gaze. "I guess I never thought about it like that before..."

"Nor did I..." Albert added.

The doctor nodded. "But, you definitely do appear that way. Even now, you're both looking out for each other, only wanting to help the other recover from everything that happened yesterday." He handed Albert his bowl of broth. "Since it seems you can't eat anything too heavy for the time being, you're also on a broth diet. You can eat it here if it would help you feel more at ease."

"Alright, Doctor."

After all Musketeers had been fed, the doctor made another change of the bandages, telling Albert it would be best to keep his eyes averted at the time.

D'Artagnan understood the practitioner's concern. He knew that if Albert was to actually see the wounds that had been inflicted, his guilt would increase and another breakdown would result.

Luckily at that time, de Treville entered the infirmary. "Albert, you're awake." He saw the doctor was preparing the bandages and poultice. "Come with me, we need to talk about what happened earlier."

"Yes, Sir."

"Don't worry, Albert, we'll all be here when you get back. I promise," D'Artagnan assured.

The petit blond nodded and followed after the Captain.