Once the Inseparables rushed into the room, they saw Mathis' on his knees, his back to the door. He was hovering over an insensate D'Artagnan, who wasn't conscious. Or worse.
Porthos flung Mathis off his baby brother; the murdered man sailed across the room, but could not be deterred in the pleasure of what he had done to D'artagnan.
"Tell the King I'm ready to talk about Michel," he smirked.
Aramis was gently smacking D'Artagnan's face, in an effort to revive him.
"How is he?" Athos asked.
"What did you do to him?!" Athos yelled.
"I killed him!" Mathis replied. "With my bare hands!"
Treville and the Red Guard had to restrain both Athos and Porthos at Mathis' pronouncement.
They were halted in their tracks by a familiar groan from the floor.
As both Porthos and Athos rushed back to Aramis' side, hovering over D'Artagnan, Aramis yelled "Careful! It is his hand- his wrist and fingers…"
As soon as he said it, they both glanced at D'Artagnan's right hand. it was obvious that every finger had been shattered, and his wrist had been yanked back so severely that it was clearly broken. The act of breaking it was obviously the cause of his scream.
He had obviously also beaten, as marks on his face, certain to bloom into bruises given time, were also evident.
While Aramis tended to him, Treville had the Red Guard bind Mathis. He then accompanied the Red Guard to take Mathis back to jail, where they would await further instruction from the Palace.
As Treville saw D'Artagnan rousing a bit, he simply said as he walked out, "Keep me posted on his condition. Whatever you need…"
"Thank you, Captain," Athos said, as Treville started to march out with Mathis and the Red Guard. As Mathis walked with just a minor limp, it was obvious that they had all over-estimated the extent of the injury to his leg, allowing him to swiftly move to attack D'Artagnan.
"This needs to be set. This entire hand needs to be set. D'Artagnan, how are you?" Aramis asked.
"What- what happened? C-can I stay now?" D'Artagnan asked, groggily.
"The hour is over. Can you stay where? Not here- other than your hand, what else hurts?"
"My- head. OWWWWW!" he screamed, when he absentmindedly went to lift himself up, using his destroyed hand.
Aramis hissed in sympathy. "Apologies D'Artagnan; here, we will lift you up. Use your other hand."
"Am I still a recruit?" the Gascon asked, shakily.
"Of course you are, don't be silly," Aramis responded.
"But- you were getting rid of me…"
"D'Artagnan, I can assure you I have no idea what you're talking about! Why would we wish to get rid of you?"
"Should we get a stretcher?" Porthos asked.
"I can walk!" D'Artagnan suddenly snapped at him.
After a few eye rolls and shaken heads, Aramis and Porthos helped him up, mindful of his right hand.
As D'Artagnan found his footing, he took a moment to collect himself. When he began to exit the room on his own volition, Aramis instinctively went to grab his shoulder to support him.
D'Artagnan roughly pulled away from Aramis' embrace. "Leave me alone!"
"'Ey, he's just tryin' ta help ya!" Porthos shouted.
"No, no. By all means, D'Artagnan; proceed," Athos said, extending his hand out as if to say, go ahead by yourself.
D'Artagnan wobbled forward a few steps before he clearly was about to tumble down.
When Porthos and Aramis kept him from falling on his face, again D'Artagnan protested.
"EY! We're 'elpin' you, dammit! What has been with you, anyway? You been actin' strange an' avoidin' us like the plague lately!"
As D'Artagnan reluctantly accepted his brothers' help as they walked back to the Garrison, he said, "I- I want to be a Musketeer!"
"And you will be one day, for that we are sure, my brother," Aramis said.
"B-but you said I was unreliable. A bad seed. A- candidate for release!"
"What are you taking about?" Athos said.
"I heard you! In Treville's office…"
"Oh my GOD. We were talkin' about Durant, ya dolt!" Porthos yelled.
"Porthos!" Athos yelled, angrily.
Porthos closed his eyes, instantly realizing his error. Durant's status was not to be public knowledge.
"You- you mentioned me! You said I was-"
"We were comparing you to him, and found him lacking, D'Artagnan!" Aramis said. Now that the cat was out of the bag…
"O-oh," was all D'Artagnan could utter.
"'Oh. Oh.' Now will you stop acting like an insane imbecile and know that we all think the world of you?" Aramis said, with a fondness that could not be missed.
D'Artagnan, for the first time in days, allowed himself a small smile.
The Musketeers then proceeded to escort D'Artagnan to the Infirmary, to tend to his hand and mind his bruises.
A day later, D'Artagnan's hand was set, and his brothers were all hovering over him like the mother hens that they were.
Despite the pain, the prognosis on D'Artagnan's hand was promising, but it simply would take time to heal.
"I cannot believe that you managed to mishear what you did, and interpret it in such a manner. have you not shown your worth to us, more than once?" Athos admonished softly.
"It wasn't- it was after Durant said that you were all merely tolerating me and that you- were being too polite to actually tell me to take my leave," D'Artagnan admitted. "And after he said it, I overheard what I thought was you telling Treville that I was unworthy…"
"That's your problem, D'Artagnan; ya need to learn when it is that someone 'as a reason for lyin'," Porthos said.
"I suppose…"
"However, at some point, you will need to answer for why you were spying by listening outside of Treville's office without permission," Aramis said.
"'Ey, what is the punishment for a recruit spying on 'is Captain, anyway?" Porthos asked.
"Immediate release," Aramis replied. "You jump from being a mere candidate, to being instantly kicked out of the Regiment."
Thinking Aramis was serious, D'Artagnan barked: "I- I'm SORRY! I- I just…"
"Wait. I thought it was a summary execution. They line ya up against the wall, and blam!" Porthos added, pretending to shoot off a musket.
D'Artagnan's eyes went wide with fright.
"Relax, D'Artagnan; we were just teasing. You see? Porthos' motivation for lying just then was to watch those two big brown puppy dog eyes of yours bulge from your head that way!"
D'Artagnan let out a deep breath of relief; and Porthos was spared a punch in the stomach only due to his injured hand.
"However, D'Artagnan, and this is no joke. No recruit is to know about Durant's status. It is bad enough he has placed himself in the precarious position that he is in- he needs no chiding from you or anyone else about it. Is that clear?" Athos said.
D'Artagnan was still reeling from recent events to be insulted by Athos' conjecture that he would ever consider doing such a thing. He simply replied, "Of course."
After a moment Athos added, "D'Artagnan, knowing that I can trust you implicitly to keep this between us, you should know that once Durant was informed by me of his precarious status, he then elected to act as if he saw himself as a victim in all of this. However, while I cannot condone every aspect of your behavior ever since you heard what you thought you heard, I must say that you took responsibility, applied yourself to do better, and did not blame anyone else. That is the mark of true integrity."
D'Artagnan just stared at Athos. "Thank you."
Then he added, "I- have a confession to make."
"Uh-oh," Aramis moaned immediately. What now?"
"Um…that was not the first time that I have spied on Treville outside of his office."
"Oh?" Athos said.
"Yes. There was another time I overheard Porthos and Aramis speaking privately with Treville. They were discussing you, Athos."
Aramis and Porthos looked at each other in astonishment.
"Yes. I overheard them use words like 'moody' and 'grouchy' and a- what was it- a 'candidate for banishment'. I believe Siberia was mentioned?" D'Artagnan said, the grin on his face now impossible to ignore.
"Did they, now?" Athos said.
"In all fairness to us, it was right after a particularly sullen evening spent with you at the Wren," Aramis added.
"An' by the way, Treville's still lookin' into it," Porthos added.
"Siberia. Remote, peaceful…no ridiculous brothers pestering me… I must check and see what is delaying Treville's decision," Athos said, almost to himself.
Based on the details that Mathis provided the Palace regarding his brother Michel, the three Musketeers (absent a still-recovering D'Artagnan) swiftly captured Michel and brought him back to Paris.
Soon Michel was sharing a cell with his brother. Upon discovering that Mathis gave him up so readily, one evening in their shared cell, Michel strangled his brother to death.
Having no hand to play in a reprieve of his own to save his own pathetic life, Michel was soon executed.
It would be an understatement to say that Durant's remaining thirty days were a disaster. He became more and more belligerent, even to the point of alienating his only two friends, Cade and Garen. By the time he was dismissed, it was a blessing for everyone.
Cade and Garen quickly fell in line, their leader now gone; it was a testament to their weakness of character that absent Durant, they no longer had the courage to fight anyone, or even mock them, as they felt free to do when Durant was around.
"Good luck, Durant," D'Artagnan managed to say, as Durant was departing the Garrison for the last time.
"Go to hell, pretender," Durant replied, perhaps hoping for one more fight with D'Artagnan.
But the young Gascon simply walked away, pride in his strut, knowing that he was on solid ground in the Regiment, and in the hearts of his brothers, always supporting him, and having his back.