Chapter Thirteen - 'Stay.'
Aramis (with Porthos)
'No, Aramis, you have to stay there.'
Porthos rolled his eyes as he pushed the confused man back down again. He could not remember how many times he had been forced to pin his unfocused, injured friend back down on the bed.
It was not Aramis' fault, the wound had become infected and he was battling a fever. The fever had followed its usual course and now the confused man thought he should be up and about, when really he should be resting.
'...but the cadets need training.'
'The cadets will still be there when you are well again.'
'...but…'
'No,' said Porthos firmly.
Aramis slumped back for a few seconds, he looked defeated. Porthos wondered if the feverish man might finally acquiesce and rest.
'Stay,' Porthos commanded.
His friend looked at him blankly for a few seconds but remained where he was. Porthos sighed and rose from the bed, wondering if Aramis would stay put long enough for him to visit the mess and get them both some food. Not that he expected Aramis to eat much, but he still had to try.
Aramis was looking intently at the ceiling.
Porthos slowly started to walk towards the door. A tell-tale creak behind him had him stop and turn.
Sure enough, his friend had pushed the blankets back and was trying to swing his legs off the bed.
'I told you to stay,' sighed Porthos, more to himself than to his injured friend.
Offering up a silent prayer to Aramis' God and hoping his friend would not find what he was about to do a betrayal, Porthos reached for a couple of belts. He crossed back to the bed and pushed Aramis back down. His friend was weak and easy to manoeuvre, Aramis tried to resist but was no match for the fully fit Musketeer who pinned him back to the bed.
With a feeling of guilt, but knowing he was doing it for the right reasons he slipped the first leather belt around the bed frame and his friends left wrist. Aramis watched him but did not say anything.
'I'm sorry, but I love you and want you to get better,' he said quietly as he moved to the other side of the bed.
Porthos gently pulled Aramis' right hand away from his left, before the injured man could undo the belt and restrained him fully. Aramis weakly pulled at the belts. Porthos was glad when the man did not panic at the treatment. He merely looked confused. After a very brief struggle, he lay back down defeated. The efforts Aramis had made to escape proved to be his undoing. He was asleep in minutes.
Porthos smiled as he brushed a few wayward curls from his friend's fevered brow.
'Sleep well,' he said quietly, 'you can train the cadets when you are fit again.'
The End.