The weekend goes as expected for Aramis. He's anxious which means he can't eat which upsets Porthos which makes Aramis upset and sad. Athos intervenes but it's too late and Aramis spends the night in his bedroom. Athos comes up to check on him and stays. Porthos comes up to apologize and Aramis easily accepts.
"It's my fault anyway," he tells Porthos. The room's dark save for the lamps on each of the nightstands. One of them often stays the night with Aramis in case he has nightmares or flashbacks and can't call for help, so setting up the other side of the bed seemed the best solution.
"No, I shouldn't have been so insistent on you eating. I know you're still dealing with the aftermath of today and eating is difficult for you in this state. You're just still so thin, I worry that you're not getting enough to stay healthy," Porthos says.
"I have put on weight."
"You're more like a bean pole," Porthos teases.
"No, Porthos, I think he's right," Athos says. "He has put on some muscle. Especially in the arms."
"I'm sorry, Athos," Aramis says in such a low tone that it breaks the happy atmosphere that was developing.
"You've apologized more than a dozen times, Aramis, and each time I've said, it's okay. It wasn't your fault. It's just a bruise," Athos says.
"A black eye, Athos. You can barely see out of that eye and you have to go to work on Monday."
"I can see okay out of it and it'll be better by Monday. Not gone, but better. This will heal and so will you, in time."
"Sure doesn't seem like it."
"This is just a minor setback. You'll be able to do it."
"Maybe, but right now I don't want to think about it." Aramis moves so that he's under the covers and curled on his side. "I think I'm just going to try to sleep."
"Okay," Athos says. "We'll be here during the night just in case."
"Sorry." Aramis' voice is muffled by the blankets.
"Stop that, 'Mis," Porthos says. He's sitting in the recliner in corner of the room next to the windows. Athos runs a hand through Aramis' hair to calm him.
The night is far from restful for the trio. Once Aramis can sleep, he quickly starts in on nightmares, which they wake him from, but it takes time to calm him down enough to at least lay back down. The cycle is familiar and exhausting. Morning comes and goes with them still trying to get more than an hour of sleep at a time.
At some point, Porthos answers a call from Treville, letting him know that everything is okay but that they've had a rough night. The exhaustion in Porthos' voice is enough that Treville doesn't push, settling for finding out more once Athos and Porthos return to work.
When Monday morning comes, the three are a little better rested, though Aramis is still struggling with lingering anxiety. The flashbacks have faded for which they are all relieved because he can't be left on his own if he's still having them.
"You going to be okay on your own today," Porthos asks as he finishes dividing up the oatmeal. Athos helps him take the bowls to the island where Aramis is sitting, dressed in sweatpants and an oversized knitted sweater, a contrast to the dress clothes Porthos and Athos wear. There's little point in getting dressed, Aramis figures when he's not going anywhere.
"Yeah. I'm still tired so I might just sleep the day." Aramis tries to hide the nausea he feels when the smell of the oatmeal hits his nose. He has to try to eat something this morning. Over the last couple days, he's managed to eat tidbits, but he knows that Porthos is worried. He always worries about how much Aramis eats.
"Eat what you can," Athos tells him quietly. Trust Athos to understand.
"You probably shouldn't sleep most of the day," Porthos says between bites of oatmeal. "Maybe try doing something in the garage with your tools. I know you're in the middle of making toys for the kids."
"Maybe," Aramis says. The brown sugar he's put on the oatmeal isn't helping the taste, but he forces himself to swallow, chasing it with some orange juice to ease the lingering taste.
"Only if you feel steady enough," Athos says. "The last thing that you need is to hurt yourself working out there."
"Of course," Porthos says. "Maybe just walk around or something. You can work on how you want to decorate your room. The walls are needing something on them. I mean, you are staying, aren't you?"
"Yeah. I just don't know what to put up. I've always lived in dorms or the barracks where decorating of that sort is not allowed," Aramis says.
"Why don't you search the internet a bit. Find some things that you like and we can look over them tonight," Athos says. He doesn't want to treat Aramis like a child, but he understands that the thought of decorating a room must seem daunting and not just because he's never done it before. Making decisions in his state of mind is difficult but having a decorated room might help his mood some. It'll be better than blank walls.
"If you're not wanting to eat the rest, 'Mis, you don't have to," Porthos says, noticing how Aramis is picking at the bowl of oatmeal. He's eaten maybe a quarter and much of that is with poorly hidden grimaces and a good drink of juice.
"I should though," Aramis says grimly.
"There are other things you can have when you're ready. The fridge has some snacks, mostly the fruits and veggies you like. There's also some juices in there. Just make sure that you eat a few small meals today. Okay? I don't want to come home and find that you're sick with low blood sugar again."
"Okay." Aramis nods and pushes the oatmeal away.
"We should get going," Athos says. "Call us if you need."
"Or text," Porthos adds as he and Athos clean up the kitchen.
Once they leave, Aramis spends a little more time at the island, contemplating how he's going to spend his day. The pull of the couch is strong, especially in his post-anxiety and PTSD weekend. He knows that he shouldn't just lay down. Lemay has told him that it just makes his depression worse to give into the sleep. He should get up and move around. Perhaps even find some recipes and get a list together for the Christmas tree decorating party they're hosting this weekend. He used to love baking but it's been a couple years since he's even thought about it. But then he remembers that he's going to have to confront Treville and Tim at the party. He's going to have to tell them that he can't be a chaperone. He's going to have to disappoint Tim because he can't keep him past in the past. Sleep is better, he decides, giving in to the lure of the couch.
He eats when Athos and Porthos text him to ask if he has had anything and he scans some store websites while laying on the couch so he has something to show Athos tonight, but when they come home, he's sleeping. That week he is forced to skip his sessions with Lemay and they have to cancel the party when he falls sick in the aftermath of his weekend misadventure.
Treville texts him one evening to ask about chaperoning on the 13th, to which Aramis replies that he'll be healthy enough by then.
"How're you doing," Porthos asks. He and Athos have just gotten off work and he's left Athos to get dinner orders while he checks on Aramis. It's been a long week with Aramis sick. The man claims that he never got such bad breathing problems before. They've managed to get a better handle on that part of the colds meaning that he hasn't yet had a trip to the ER. He regularly uses the nebulizer while huddled under a pile of blankets in bed and it helps.
"Fine," Aramis says, voice nasally and rough. They've kept him stocked with water and snacks so that he doesn't have to try to go downstairs during the day. He had a couple days where his balance wasn't good and they're concerned he'd hurt himself. Truthfully, he doesn't mind because while the cold is unpleasant, the lingering depression has done more to keep him in bed. With the cold at least they don't expect him to get up.
"How's your fever this evening?" Porthos checks it quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Lower. That's good. Are you feeling better?"
"Some. I just wish this breathing would get better."
"It's always the last part. You want to try walking around a little. Maybe that would help."
"No. I'm not feeling all that steady." Aramis sinks back down under the covers a bit, feeling not just the heaviness of the cold in his chest, but also ache of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He doesn't want to move other than curling up under the covers.
"Have you been eating today?" Porthos looks over at the basket of snacks. It doesn't look a less full than this morning.
"I tried but nothing really tasted good." The churning in his stomach was just too much.
"Does anything sound good? I can make it or we can order it." Porthos is worried by how little Aramis is eating. He was never a big eater before but since the Market and with the cold, he's eating even less and they haven't found anything that he does want to eat.
"No. I just want to sleep." Aramis shakes his head and rolls onto his side away from Porthos, pulling the blankets over his head.
"Okay. We'll be up later to check on you but let us know if there's something you want." Porthos sits there for a moment, feeling helpless before he goes back downstairs to let Athos know what's happened.
As the week turns into the weekend, Aramis, despite his lack of an appetite, starts to get better. They're able to tempt him into eating something by making strawberry smoothies, which he drinks because he doesn't want to keep disappointing them. Everything about the weekend and the following week is difficult for him as the deadline of letting Treville know about the chaperone looms. He dreams about being turned out on the streets because they're all tired of him not getting better, of disappointing them by always sliding back. As the dreams continue, he sleeps less.
The week is broken by his appointment with Lemay where they discuss the weekend again and Lemay reminds him that he needs to let Treville know.
"We're running short on time, but I want to remind you that Treville will understand. He's supportive and he understands what you're dealing with. Tim is likely to be less understanding, but he's young and doesn't understand what you're going through. In time, he will but it's more important that you put your health first in this case. I want you to call Treville tonight. You can run through some scenarios with Porthos and Athos to help ease your anxiety, but you have to let him know. The school needs to find another chaperone. Okay?"
Aramis nods and the session ends.
"How'd it go," Porthos asks when Aramis comes out into the waiting room.
"Fine. Just talked about the weekend."
"Good. Anything else?"
"No," Aramis says easily. He knows that he should pass on what Lemay said about telling Treville, but he doesn't want to. He's already run through the scenarios in his head and none of them are good. It's pathetic to have to explain that something in his head is keeping him from doing something so basic as going to the city. He's a grown man who can't function because of his mind.
"Everything okay, 'Mis," Porthos asks. Aramis has been silent and brooding on their walk to the car.
"Yeah. Just a tough session. I'm kind of tired."
"You've been sleeping a lot. Is your cold coming back or something?"
"Maybe." Aramis shrugs his shoulders. He doesn't want to talk anymore so when he gets in the car, he huddles in on himself, leaning his head against the window to look out.