I should have said when this is set. It is in Season Two after Bonacieux's death but before Rochefort makes his move on the Queen and Aramis. Thank you for the wonderful ongoing support for this story.

Phoenix Rising

Chapter Three

Athos brushed the tears of relief away from his eyes with the back of his hand. "He lives," he said, his voice thick with emotion. He saw an identical look of relief on Porthos' soot-streaked face. "He's unconscious. We must free him as quickly as we can."

"Any sign of injury?" Porthos asked, moving a plank of wood from d'Artagnan's chest.

"Cuts and bruises and," Athos shifted some of the debris covering the young man's legs, "a broken leg by the look of it."

"Do we move him? He could 'ave other injuries we can't see."

"You're right. Fetch Aramis."

Porthos straightened up, brushing dust from his breeches. He looked over toward the entrance. "Lemay's here." He turned back to Athos with a frown. "So's Constance."

"Stay here." Athos moved quickly to intercept the physician, gratified to see that there was also a procession of royal pages carrying baskets of medical supplies. "Doctor. Thank you for coming."

"Of course. The King was horrified to hear of the accident. How many are wounded?"

"Too many. They're in the refectory." He pointed the way. "Aramis is doing what he can to help them but most need a surgeon's care." He caught Constance's arm to stop her following the doctor. "You shouldn't be here."

"Where is he? Where's d'Artagnan?" she asked, her voice shaking. "I know he was on duty here today? Is he hurt?"

Athos gently drew her into a corner, standing between her and the spot where d'Artagnan lay. He looked down at her sympathetically seeing the lines of worry creasing her brow. "He was injured but we don't yet know the extent. He was buried under the rubble. We have only just managed to free him. He isn't awake yet."

"I need to see him," she made to push past him, her face pale but determined.

"Go back to the palace," Athos advised. "There's nothing you can do for him."

"I came to help and I'm not leaving." She looked up at him, he bottom lip trembling. "Besides, I'd rather he woke with me beside him. Take me to him."

Athos sighed and nodded. "This way." He led her over to where Porthos stood protectively next to their youngest brother's comatose body.

Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp. "He looks…"

"He is still breathing," Athos said before she could finish the thought. "We were just about to get Aramis to examine him. Lemay has more serious cases to deal with. Many of the men have severe burns."

Constance scrambled over the rubble, uncaring if it ripped her dress, and grasped d'Artagnan's hand in both of hers. She sat next to him and brushed strands of hair out of his eyes, steadfastly refusing to cry. He needed her to be strong.

"I'll get Aramis." Porthos squeezed Athos' shoulder before striding away.

Now that the immediate need to act had gone Athos began to notice a throbbing pain in his left hand and pulled off his glove, staring uncomprehendingly at the blood coating his skin. He wiped away as much as he could, finding a deep gash on his palm. No matter how hard he struggled he couldn't recall getting injured and he certainly wasn't going to waste anyone's time in tending to it. He pulled his glove back on and pushed the pain to the back of his mind.

TMTMTM

Aramis lifted the tweezers out of the hot water, returning to Laurent's side. The Musketeer sat with his back to the wall, his hand hovering indecisively over his chest and the multiple splinters buried in his body.

"Don't touch them. I will remove as many as I can," Aramis said gently. "Some have gone deep and will have to be cut out. We can't risk leaving any of the wood under the skin."

Laurent swallowed and gave a brief nod. "Do what you must."

Aramis glanced over at Dr. Lemay who had stood for a minute in appalled silence as he took in the scope of the disaster. He had given a brief bow in Aramis' direction before moving to Pascal's side. The young man gave no sign that he was aware of the doctor's presence, not even flinching when Lemay examined his ruined legs. Aramis was left with the disturbing thought that he would probably not survive the night.

His hands were steady as he grasped the first shard, pulling it out in one smooth movement. Laurent gasped and his hands balled into fists but he made no other complaint. The second was harder, being more deeply embedded. A small whimper escaped from his patient's lips and Aramis murmured an apology. He was reaching for the third when Porthos burst into the room.

"Aramis, we've found him."

"He's alive?" he asked, his heart rate quickening.

"Aye, although he isn't conscious. Athos wants you to come examine him. We don't want to move him until you say so."

The tension in Aramis' shoulders and neck began to dissipate as relief coursed through him. "I will be there as soon as I can, my friend."

"Go," Laurent said stoically. "My injuries can wait."

"He was buried, Aramis. We had to dig him out."

Aramis stomach clenched at that news. He cast a grateful look at Laurent. "I will be back soon." He stood, washed his hands and then turned to Porthos. "Lead the way." He stopped to speak briefly to Dr. Lemay. "One of the injured is still in the yard. I am going to assess his injuries as best I can."

"Don't take too long and see if you can find Madame Bonacieux. She came with me and now she is no-where to be found."

"Constance is here?" He saw the assent on Porthos' face. "She is with d'Artagnan?"

"Wouldn't leave him."

When they returned to the yard Aramis got his first good look at the damage. The armory was completely destroyed and all the windows on that side of the garrison had been blown out. He looked at the gaping hole in the wall, trying to imagine what it must have been like for the men caught in the blast. His gaze was inexorably drawn to the group of people huddled around a body lying mere feet from the ruined entrance to armory. He put a hand on Porthos' arm. "Is he…does he have any burns?"

"None that I could see."

Aramis let out a shaky breath. He went round to the far side so as not to disturb Constance although he captured her gaze and her attention. "Dr. Lemay is calling for you. There is nothing you can do here and there are many men inside who need care. Will you trust us to look after d'Artagnan?"

Her grip tightened on d'Artagnan's hand and then she took a deep breath before nodding. She bend over to kiss him on the forehead. "I love you, d'Artagnan."

"Be warned that there are some gruesome injuries," Aramis said. "If you don't think you can cope no-one will think less of you."

"They are coping with their injuries. How can I do any less?"

Aramis bowed his head in acknowledgement, waiting for her to move away before beginning his examination. "Only very minor burns on his arms," he said. "His right leg is broken. Let me check his ribs." He pressed on d'Artagnan's chest moving from the top to the bottom. "His chest was crushed. There are at least five broken ribs, two dangerously close to his lungs." He slid a hand behind d'Artagnan's head. "He has a lump the size of a goose egg and a laceration." He held up his hand which was stained with blood.

"Why's he still unconscious?" Porthos asked.

"It could be the head trauma" Aramis looked at his brothers without flinching as he delivered the bad news. "Or, while he was buried, he could have been deprived of air for long enough that his brain no longer functions."

Tbc