"Aramis?" Porthos sets the crackers aside as he and Athos turn to Aramis, observing him for any signs of more disorientation or illness.
"Athos? Porthos? Where are we? What happened to the Market?" Aramis is looking at them and around, trying to sort out where his missing hours went. He feels more tired and dirty than he remembers.
"How're you feeling," Athos asks.
"Tired and sore, I think. What happened?"
"You had a panic attack on our way to the Market."
"Bolted before we knew it. Right to an alley not far from here," Porthos adds.
"You've been in a sort of flashback-daze since then."
"I have?" Aramis looks at them both, on either side of him. He believes them, but it's still hard to take in. Losing time always disorients and upsets him. "Fuck," he says quietly, leaning over as he runs his hands through his hair, trying to get himself back in order.
"Hey, calm down," Porthos says, putting a careful hand on the man's shoulder. "You're safe. You're here with us."
"No. No. No." Aramis stands, throwing off the jacket that they'd draped on his shoulders and his friends' hands that had tried to bring him comfort.
"Don't go anywhere." Porthos stands, staying a couple feet away from Aramis, hands raised slightly.
"No. No. You don't understand," Aramis' voice drones on as if he doesn't hear Porthos as he begins to pace. He goes up a few feet, then back down a few feet past the starting point.
"I'll call Lemay," Athos says, pulling out his phone. He and Porthos share a look.
"He's not going to be happy," Porthos says.
"Do you think Aramis can make the call right now," Athos asks, frustrated. He points a hand at Aramis, who's still pacing and talking lowly to himself. "Lemay's going to have to deal with it. Aramis needs his help more than he needs those rules right now." He doesn't wait for Porthos to speak, pressing the button to make the call to Lemay. As he waits for Lemay to answer, he watches Aramis continue his pacing.
When Lemay answers, Athos relays the information.
"Who thought it was a good idea to take him to the Christmas Market," Lemay asks, irritation clear.
"Treville's oldest kid asked him to be a chaperone and this was a trial run to see if he could manage it."
"Clearly he's not ready. He should've known that. You all should've," Lemay scolds.
"I know it was a stupid idea, but if we didn't help him, he would've gone down there with those children and it would've been worse than today," Athos says tersely.
"Does he know you're calling me?"
"No. He's still pacing and muttering to himself. I think he's more alert now, he's just trying to catch up."
"I should meet with him today. He needs to talk this out. When can you get him back," Lemay asks.
"A couple hours probably. We took the train in."
"Ok. You remember the grounding technique?"
"Yeah. We tried it, but he was still in a haze. It sent him back a year."
"You're going to need to try it again and keep doing it. Do you have his iPod?"
"Yeah."
"Once you get back around people, you might need it. He's going to be jumpy and on edge. You need to work to keep him calm and from going into another attack."
"Of course." This is nothing new to Athos.
"When you get back, give me a call and I'll come over."
Athos thanks him and hangs up.
"What'd he say," Porthos asks.
"We need to get home. Aramis has an appointment with him once we get back."
"That's not going to be easy."
"No, it won't," Athos says, assessing the situation. First, they need to work on grounding Aramis.
"Aramis, you still with us," Athos asks, taking a few hesitant steps towards him.
"Athos?" Aramis looks up.
"Yeah. Do you know where you are?"
"You said we were at a park."
"Yeah, we are. Look around, Aramis, and tell me what you see. What's in front of you?" Athos walks until he's right next to Aramis, facing the same direction as him as well.
"A big building," Aramis says.
"What color is it?"
"Red because it's made of bricks." Aramis knows what Athos is doing and falls into the routine easily.
"Count the windows on the second floor, Aramis."
"One, two, three, four, five. There's five windows."
"Good. Now, count the floors. Count the windows going up to the roof."
Aramis starts counting aloud again. Athos does a quick count and gives Porthos a look. He's standing on the other side of Aramis. So far, so good.
"Ten. There's ten floors."
"Yeah, there are. Now look around the park and tell me how many trees you see. Go slowly. You're still a bit unsteady." Athos and Porthos keep their arms at the ready to catch Aramis as he slowly turns around, counting the trees. Given everything that's happened today and how little Aramis ate for breakfast, he's due for an energy crash.
"Five, Athos. There's five trees."
"Tell me about what's going on around us. Are there cars? People? The weather?" Athos can tell that Aramis is close to returning back to them fully.
"It's quiet. Not many cars or people and it smells. And it's cold, but there's no snow." Aramis pauses and takes a breath. "It was snowing." He's silent for a few seconds before his knees buckle. Athos and Porthos move quickly to support him, easing him back to the bench. Porthos pushes Aramis' head down gently, putting it between his knees to ease the lightheadedness.
"Breathe, Aramis," Porthos says, kneeling down next to him. Aramis takes a few breaths. The first couple are ragged, but with some gentle coaxing from Porthos, they even out.
As Porthos works with Aramis, Athos fishes through their backpack for the juice and chocolate they packed. When Aramis seems recovered, he unscrews the cap on the juice and hands it to Porthos.
"Athos has some juice here that you need to drink, 'Mis," Porthos says. He waits until Aramis eases himself back into an upright position, leaning heavily against the back of the bench. Aramis tries to take the bottle, but his hands shake and he drops them with an annoyed sigh. "Your blood sugar is just low, 'Mis. It's not what you're thinking. Let us help you and you'll be feeling better soon enough. Okay?"
Aramis nods and lets Porthos help him drink. When he's about a third through, Athos sits on the opposite side and hands him a piece of chocolate. Eating that with shaky hands is much easier and once it's gone, Athos hands him another piece. They work through the rest of the chocolate and juice, alternating each until they're gone and Aramis is feeling better. He's more steady on his feet, at least. Mentally, he's still trying to get a grip on what happened, but he knows it wasn't good. Nevertheless, between Athos' work in grounding him and the snacks, he's ready to go when Athos asks.
"We'll have to get something when we get to the train station, but that should hold you for now," Athos says as Porthos helps Aramis to his feet. Porthos pulls off his jacket to hand to Aramis, who is still without a jacket.
"No, you should keep it," Aramis says. "I can wear my jacket." He reaches out for the clothing he shed.
"I haven't spent most of the day without a jacket and sitting in a cold, wet alley," Porthos counters gently. "Put it on, 'Mis. You don't need to wear your jacket; it's wet and you're freezing. Give yourself a little comfort on our walk back. It's not going to be a quick one."
Aramis doesn't have the energy to fight anymore and concedes to putting on the slightly bigger jacket. He can't hide the look of pleasure that comes over him when he feels the warmth from Porthos' having worn it.
"Let us know if you need to stop for anything, a rest, food. Anything, okay?"
"Yeah." Aramis nods, too exhausted to feel guilty.
The walk back is long. About halfway through, with Aramis flagging, they find the nearest bus stop that will get them back to the station and take the bus back. Aramis is visibly on edge about the somewhat crowded bus, but he did consent to taking the bus. Athos hands him his iPod to listen to and Porthos and Athos sit on either side, the sides of their bodies pressed against his for comfort.
At the station, Athos takes Aramis to a bench off on the side of the second floor where there are fewer people while Porthos goes to get them some food from Aramis' favorite chicken restaurant. The protein from the chicken would help Aramis get more of his energy back and the warmth would help combat the cold. They have nearly forty minutes to wait until the next train, which is plenty of time to eat.
When Porthos comes back he has a bag of food in one hand and a hoodie in the other.
"Here 'Mis." Porthos hands Aramis the hoodie. "It's not much, but it'll help to keep some of the cold air off of you." He knows that Aramis is glad to give Porthos his jacket back so that he can be warm too and Aramis loves the feel of a hoodie. As Aramis changes, Athos opens up the food. He's glad to see that Porthos got chicken tenders as they'll be much easier for Aramis to eat.
"Have a piece of chicken, Aramis," Athos says once Aramis is settled into his hoodie.
"I'm not hungry," Aramis says.
"You pretty much had sugar back at the park. You need something more than that. Just take your time. It'll also warm you up." Athos breaks the chicken tender in half, holding out one half for Aramis.
Again, Aramis doesn't have the energy to argue. He takes the offered half and takes a hesitant bite. Once they see Aramis eating, Porthos and Athos take a piece each and eat, making sure to not watch Aramis, but keep a casual eye on his eating.
When they are ready to get on the train, Aramis has eaten a chicken tender and a half and half of the mashed potatoes. The warmth of the food as well as a full stomach and the toll of the stress of the day makes Aramis sleepy and getting him moving is no easy feat. But they manage and soon they are on the train heading home with Aramis wedged between Athos and the window, dozing lightly. Athos wakes him long enough to get him to put his headphones back on, hoping that with the music, he'll be able to get a little rest before having to deal with what happened.
They are nearly home when Athos tells Aramis that Lemay will be by later.
"I know." Aramis nods quietly.
"Okay." Athos shares a look with Porthos. It's been a while since they've seen Aramis this defeated sounding.
"Why don't you go get a warm shower and into some clean clothes. When you get done, you can give Lemay a call," Porthos says, opening the front door.
"Sounds right," Aramis says. "It was my decision." He sits to take his shoes off, the motions terse. Athos and Porthos are slower in getting their shoes off, watching Aramis and trying to figure out a response. He leaves them without further word, walking quietly upstairs to the bathroom. A moment later the shower comes on.
"He's not taking this well," Porthos says.
"We knew it wouldn't go well." Athos sits back up with a sigh. "And yet we let this go forward anyway."
"It's better it happens now than when he was with those kids."
"That's easy to say from our perspective."
"Yeah." Porthos pauses. "I just don't understand why he even agreed. This was a stupid idea." Porthos roughly hangs up his jacket and walks towards the den. Athos follows.
"I don't think this was so much about going on a field trip or testing himself as he's told us," Athos says once they're in the den.
"You think this is about Tim."
"You know how bad Aramis has felt that Tim is afraid of him."
"This isn't about getting a kid to like him. 'Mis isn't like that. He doesn't care about things like that, does he?" The year has shown Porthos many sides of Aramis, but he realizes that it is just a year. It's hardly anytime to really get to know someone.
"No. He's not like that. But he does feel guilt really quickly. And Treville said they didn't get to go last year because Aramis showed up."
"Does he know this?"
"I don't know. It's possible."
"I do," Aramis says quietly, walking into the den wearing sweats and a thick sweater over top a long-sleeved shirt. He walks past them to sit in his customary seat on the couch, pulling the blankets around him to form a sort of cocoon.
"Aramis." Porthos startles slightly at his arrival not so much out of surprise but that they are talking about it. "I thought you'd be in the shower longer."
"So, you thought it was okay to talk about me?" There's a startling lack of heat to Aramis' words.
"We were talking about why you decided to go ahead with this trip that you had to know wouldn't go well," Athos says.
"Well, some of it was to see if I could," Aramis says.
"But…."
"It wasn't as clear as you've put it or Treville, but I understood what he meant. There could've been only one reason they didn't go and it was my untimely arrival at their doorstep. I thought if I could manage it, even if it was a little hairy at times for me, then I might make up for his disappointment last year. But now, he'll be disappointed again and all because of me, again." Aramis' voice cracks a little at the end. He shifts down on the couch, pulling the blankets up to nearly cover him up past his head as he lays on the corner, knees pulled up as tight as he can manage.
Athos and Porthos look at each other, at a loss for what to say.
"I have to call Lemay, don't I?" Aramis' voice is low and tinged with sadness.
"He planned to come over when we were back," Porthos says.
"Where's my phone?" He leverages himself up to look around. "It's upstairs," he says a moment later, an annoyed cry in his voice.
"You want to use one of ours," Porthos asks.
"No, don't want him to think I'm not doing this myself." Aramis gets to his feet, shoving the blankets aside and trudges up the stairs, his irritation and despondence clear with each movement.
They go to see where he is when they hear him come halfway back down the stairs and stop. They find him sitting on the steps, phone held out. It's not the first time he's had to call Lemay but that doesn't make this one any easier. Porthos and Athos have been good about today, but he doesn't know how Lemay will be.
He drops the hand holding the phone and leans his head against the wall, looking at Porthos and Athos, who are half sitting on the stairs, looking up at him.
"What happened to your cheek, Athos," Aramis asks quietly.
"What?"
"Your cheek." Aramis pulls his head away from the wall. "It's red and your eye looks swollen."
Athos hesitates for a second. "I moved too quickly," he finally says.
"I did that, didn't I?"
"You didn't mean to. You thought I was someone else."
"Fuck." Aramis drops his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Damn it."
"It wasn't your fault. I'm not mad," Athos says.
"I…" Aramis doesn't see himself starting to shake, his breathing quickening.
"It wasn't your fault," Porthos repeats Athos' words, using the same calm tone. He moves up a step only to have Aramis back up a few, feet clumsily pushing him up.
"Please, Aramis. It's okay," Athos pleads. Next to him, Porthos stops moving.
"No, no. Can't stay."