… and the one time someone just needed to hold him.

Warnings for this one: a scene of gore/blood not too heavy in detail though.

…

Athos was only slightly aware of how cold his feet were as he manoeuvred through the thick snow. His heart was pounding in his chest as he led his horse with Treville close by, only a few steps behind him.

"Athos," He heard Treville say from behind him, "Athos stop."

Athos stopped but did not turn to face his captain. He took a deep breath and the cold air stung his nose. He slowed down the thickness in his throat as his heart did a backflip.

"Perhaps you should stay here." Treville continued, "Let me go ahead."

"I will go with you." Athos said, his voice flat and decisive. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath.

"You heard what that hunter said. You heard what he found."

"I will go with you."

Athos moved his legs again and carried on. He stared ahead and as he walked he heard the captain walking behind him. His horse was leaving soft clouds of breath in front of his face, the smell of it grassy and unpleasant but it was warm all the same.

The trees were growing slightly thicker and Athos knew they were close. There was a silence in the atmosphere now, hanging from the branches like a warning of death for trespassers. Athos looked down at his feet as they worked the snow. His breathing was quickening and he could feel his chest tightening up. He watched his feet move, one then the other, detached as if he were dreaming. He should not have come. Treville was right. Athos was a walking contradiction. He told Porthos not to come, thinking he could not handle it but it was himself who could not. He was going to break down any minute now and Treville would have to witness him crumble.

Then his foot landed in red snow and he stared at it for a bit. How odd. Why would snow be red? He felt a firm hand on his shoulder and his eyes shot up in realisation. They had arrived. The horses became agitated and stepped back from the death before them. Athos felt his stomach tighten as he gazed at the bit of forest that lay ahead of them. There were dead men, everywhere, massacred. They laid unceremoniously over one another, with the occasional body being pecked at by crows. Treville said nothing, but his grip remained tight.

Athos stepped away, grabbed onto a tree and emptied what little was in his stomach, the little that he had been able to eat in the past few days. He heard Treville moving behind him and when Athos turned he saw that he was tying the horses up, his face as white as the snowy sky above them.

They had to walk around the campsite at first, to take it all in. Athos avoided looking at their faces; he did not want to find that one face in there. He couldn't. He did not want to find him. It was Treville who eventually started to move them. He grabbed the arms of the closest body and pulled it aside. They laid them beside one another in rows. The name of each musketeer was called out by Treville, who recognised their faces easily, who remembered their names, even the newer recruits who had excitedly joined the training exercise.

Athos dragged one body to start a new row, turning his back to Treville. He examined the man's face and frowned in sadness when he recognised him. It was a young man who had just joined, who had eagerly absorbed every word of advice Athos had given him. As he worked he listened to Treville reciting the names as if taking attendance.

"Allard. Alexandre. Bastien. Clotaire. Edgard. Aramis."

Athos whipped around and stared at the body Treville was now laying down. He bolted to his side and Treville looked at him with sad eyes.

Athos dropped to his knees beside his brother and stared at his snow white face. Aramis' eyes were parted slightly, they no longer had their beautiful shine; the once tawny gems were now a dark brown-grey. Athos gently closed them. He lifted Aramis up and held him tightly, burying his face in the frozen icicles that were once his hair. Athos cried cold tears and with a loud sob he wondered if he would ever be warm again, if summer would ever come again. Surely the world had lost its sun? Surely there would never be a happy warm summer's day again? How could there possible be? How could a world without Aramis ever be happy again? He choked on his sobs as he held tightly onto his brother. What was he going to say to Porthos? How was he going to go home without Aramis by his side? Porthos would be there waiting for him. Waiting for them.

Athos clutched onto Aramis even as Treville tried to pry him away.

…

Athos gasped awake and sobbed in sorrow. His face was wet with tears. He sat up crying and searched the bundle of sheets on his lap for his brother. His arms ached with the emptiness between his them and he got up from his bed, running a hand over his face. He needed to feel him, alive and healthy. He needed to know he was alright.

Athos threw his coat over his shoulders and walked down the row of rooms in the garrison. He walked straight past Aramis' room. He knew he would never find him there. When he reached the door to the room he desired, he took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together. He turned the knob and smiled as the door creaked open softly.

Athos stepped in the room and was completely unsurprised by the scene before him. Porthos was sleeping closest to the wall, an arm wound tightly around Aramis, who was sleeping with his head on Porthos' chest. Athos smiled as he closed the door and stepped towards them. He sat down softly on the bed, as quietly as he was able. Aramis seemed to have felt the mattress sink slightly as he let out a soft groan. Porthos' arm tightened even more around him protectively and Aramis burrowed his face further into Porthos' sleep shirt.

Athos grinned broadly and ran his fingers through Aramis' hair, relieved to feel its warm thickness and not the frozen, grassy texture that Athos had dreamt of moments before. Aramis gave out a soft sigh of utter content and smiled slightly in his sleep. Athos continued his petting, relieved to feel the warm life of Aramis' hair through his hand. This was not the first time he had done this. He visited Porthos' room often to check on his brothers, always leaving before he woke them. He never scolded Porthos for leaving the door unlocked anyway, as it would give him away. He was happy to steal these moments, even if they were short. He knew Aramis would let him hold him, much like a cat Aramis was. But Athos was satisfied with this, just watching them made him happy. He would get over his need to pull Aramis into his arms soon enough, just like always.

He gently stood up and removed his hand from Aramis' hair. As he stepped away from the bed however, Aramis turned his head and blinked sleepily up at him, looking much like a child. Instead of Athos running through excuses in his head as to why he would be there, he simply smiled in answer to the curious look Aramis gave him. He was so very happy to see those Tawny eyes full of life, even in their sleepy state. In this moment Aramis' eyes did not carry the burdens of life, his sleepy expression was pure and innocent. Athos suddenly had a very clear vision in his mind of what Aramis must have looked like as a child.

"What's wrong?" Aramis whispered, his voice scratchy from sleep.

"Nothing." Athos replied, "I simply wanted to check on you."

Aramis face broke into a smile as he looked up to Athos curiously. Porthos gave a soft groan but didn't open his eyes. His lips, however, turned into a broad smile.

"There's place enough for three." Porthos mumbled, eyes shut.

Aramis suddenly looked like a child on his birthday and he promptly wriggled even closer to Porthos to make room.

Athos really did not have any excuse as to why he should leave so he removed his coat and climbed in the bed next to Aramis. He rested his head on the pillow and turned to face his brothers. Aramis turned onto his back and was looking at him curiously.

"Something is wrong." Aramis whispered, "You've been crying. I can see it in your eyes."

"I assure you, all is well." Athos replied.

Aramis turned to his side to face him and Porthos' hand slid back from beneath him to rest on his chest where Aramis' head was moments before.

"You had a nightmare." Aramis said with the confidence of a man who knew much about the subject of nightmares. Because he did. Because Aramis carried far too much on his young shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, Aramis." Athos said as he reached his hand up to cup Aramis' cheek, "I'm so sorry that I wasn't there with you, that we weren't there with you in that forest."

Aramis frowned in understanding because there was only one forest that haunted all of them.

"No Athos," He said, "I'm glad you weren't there with me. I'm glad you did not have to experience that. But I am sorry, Athos, that you had to go there."

Athos moved his hand back to Aramis hair, "I brought you back home didn't I?"

"Yes," Aramis replied, "Just like always."

Aramis wriggled closer and Athos wrapped an arm over him and slid his other underneath him. He pulled him close and held on tightly, except this time Aramis held him back. Athos released a deep, drawn out breath and inhaled again, his face in Aramis' hair. He soaked up his warmth, his smell; gunpowder and cheap cologne, a smell that chased away the darkness of his nightmare that had clutched and squeezed at his heart with its sharp claws.

"Yes," Athos repeated, "Just like always."

He lowered his chin and placed a soft kiss to Aramis' hair. He did not loosen his arms when he heard Aramis start snoring softly, simply took more joy in the sound than he would ever admit.

"I left the door unlocked for you." Porthos' voice came from beside them.

Athos' eyes snapped open.

"You knew?" he whispered, shocked.

"'Course I did," Porthos replied, the smile evident in his voice, "You think I didn't know this whole time? You don't always have to leave, you know. He would love it if you stayed, we both would. You are always welcome, Athos."

Athos couldn't help but smile at that.

"I know," Athos whispered in response, trying to absorb every bit of Aramis that he could, will you leave it unlocked tomorrow?"

"Of course," Porthos answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "just like always."

…

And that's that folks! Thank you so very much for your continued support, it is unbelievably precious to me. I can't put in words how much I adore this fandom and all its people. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!

I am currently taking a look at what's been happening on the kinkmeme, so I might fill some prompts from there in the future. This is not the last you have heard from me *Big hugs for everyone!*