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

Chapter Eight

The next morning, once the crow of the rooster, for it was the feathered fowl's turn to call out cock-a-doodle-doo, had sounded throughout the property, the wide-awake Fifth Musketeer hurried out of his bedroom and to the infirmary. Please let them still be alive, please let my dream have just been a dream...

He stood outside the infirmary and found the door was still locked. He started to knock on the door. "Doctor? Doctor!"

The door opened, and there stood the doctor. "It's much too early in the morning. Why are you here?"

Albert didn't answer, he just hurried past the practitioner, into the infirmary. He could hear snoring coming from all four of the Musketeers lying in the beds. "Oh, thank goodness..."

The doctor was not impressed. He put his hand on Albert's shoulder and led him out of the infirmary. "What on earth were you thinking? Barging in like that, while the patients are resting...I thought you knew better than that!"

He realised his actions were rather rude. "I'm sorry, please excuse me, Doctor. It's just..."

"Just...?"

"I...I had a nightmare last night, that they all passed away through the night. It kept me awake for the rest of the night, not even crying as much as I did could put me back to sleep."

"I said yesterday that they were all recovering well. There have been no signs of infection, no symptoms to say otherwise, and their wounds are healing. The nightmare was the result of your fears again. Now, go back to your room and try to sleep, or go to your workshop and have breakfast. Either way, unless you're accompanied by the Captain, you are not to enter here. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Doctor." He turned and walked down the hallway.

The doctor crossed his arms before heading back into the infirmary. He locked the door again once inside. He sighed, the conversation he'd had with D'Artagnan returning to mind.

"You really have no idea how Albert thinks, do you?" D'Artagnan asked softly.

"What do you mean?"

"On one of our missions, after I got myself into a lot of trouble, he came back to find me. He told me afterwards about what had happened. The castle we were in wasn't a very pleasant place to be, so when he found me sleeping, even though he'd heard me snoring, he felt a bit more fear than normal and woke me with a hint of panic. He even admitted at that moment that the place did appear rather creepy, and though I'd teased him for being a scaredy-cat, I later regretted it. He was genuinely scared for my safety. He told me that even though he knew I was sleeping, he thought something had to be wrong for me to be asleep in such a place. Never mind my habit of dozing off anywhere whenever I'm tired out. "

"So, you're saying..."

"Whenever Albert finds himself uncomfortable, his fears increase. He was uncomfortable in that castle, so he was scared when he saw me asleep. It didn't help that I almost drowned in a swamp earlier that day. The urgency in his tone as he woke me, he told me, was not what he'd use to say hurry up, we need to get moving, it was more along the lines of oh, please be alright... Of course, after he'd seen that I really was alright, he relaxed and even told me to stop fooling around. He was able to focus on everything."

"Even so, right now, we need to do this to help him recover."

"But, is this really the right thing to do?"

The doctor nodded. "It is. He needs to realise his fears are just that, they're not going to result in anything other than making him upset."

He lay in his bed. He was worn out, he knew he had to get some sleep. But, he was unable to avoid the negative thoughts each and every time he tried. "Come on, that was just a nightmare. You saw them yourself, they are alright. They are only sleeping, as you should be," he whispered to himself. "They will still be there when you visit later, nothing has gone wrong." He continued to whisper those words to himself as he closed his eyes, knowing that if he heard that as he dozed off, then it would stay in his mind.

He knew the doctor was correct in saying he needed to confront his fears, and then work on his guilt-ridden thoughts. It didn't mean it was going to be easy though. Still, he had to put in some effort. His friends were all resting well, eating their meals and weren't aggravating their wounds, so they were able to recover much easier from the injuries they'd had inflicted on them.

But, emotional scarring was a different story. It wasn't as if poultice and bandages could help with recovery for that. No, work was going to have to be put into it, otherwise, as much as he didn't want to admit it, he would have to retire from being a Musketeer.

"They are fine..."