Evening My Lovelies :)

So we're taking a slight break today from the whumpage but worry not it'll be back in full force from tomorrow.

This is the chapter I mentioned before that was giving me trouble so if it's not very good I do apologize but I think it was annoying me sooo much that I wasnt too fussed near the end with how it turned out I just wanted it done.

Notes On Reviews:

Tidia: Thanks for the review - Help's still a few chapters away from coming... although D'Artagnan gets a teeny tiny bit of TLC at the end of today's. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - Hmmm I feel that your last sentence about 'no matter how much Ortiz tortures the remaining Muskys.' is almost a challenge lol :D I do have some rather evil things planned for the remaining two as well but as for who's worse off you'll just have to wait and see. Enjoy the new chapter! x

CaroH: Thanks for the review - I don't think even D'Artagnan knows how he's doing it at this point. It's becoming harder and harder for him to do so with each new torture that Ortiz inflicts on his brothers. Enjoy the new chapter! x

pain in the mikta: Thanks for the review - Glad you think so :) If there's something particular that you want to happen to him just let me know and I'll see what I can do :) Whumpy chapters to start up again tomorrow :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Helensg: Thanks for the review - Glad you thought so :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Lilac Lavender: Thanks for the review - You're correct about this being a mental torture to them (especially D'Art) as well. I have something planned that'll tie into this idea but wont be until later in the story... It'll also lead to some cute brotherly moments for our boys so I'm looking forward to that. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Issai: Thanks for the reviews - (Chapter 14) That's fine :) That you review is great regardless of whether it's the day of the chapter being posted or several days down the line so thank you :) Ortiz is basically an evil dick lol... Fearing for Athos would be quite wise. (Chapter 15) You're correct in that I wont tell you if you are correct but I do quite like knowing where everyone's mind has gone with regards to that. D'Art's in quite bad shape that's for sure and I think it's only out worry for his brothers that he's even still conscious most of the time. Glad you liked the torture bits :) You're no more insane then I am for writing them lol. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Hugs & cookies to you lovely people who follow/favourite/review/read this story

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter Sixteen: Interlude

As soon as Porthos had pulled himself back together again after watching his brothers being torn from them he had scrambled to his feet in a hurry to reach Aramis's side.

The medic hadn't moved from where he had collapsed on the floor but what was worrying the medic was the blood dripping onto the floor from his hunched shoulders as well as the alarmingly pale tone the Spaniard had suddenly turned.

"Still with me 'Mis?" he asked, his voice surprisingly calm given the amount of worry he was feeling

"...I'm okay" came a soft reply moments later

Shaking his head at his friend's words Porthos gripped him by the good shoulder, thankful that in their attempt to get to Athos and D'Artagnan the two had moved close enough to reach each other. He knew just how much his brother relied on touch at moments like this and he wasn't really up for feeling more helpless then he was presently.

"You my friend, are far from okay, lean back"

Aramis mock scowled and mumbled something too low for the brawler to hear but was no doubt a quip about how its okay for him to be a 'mother-hen' but when he does it, it gets him teased. But Porthos cared not as the medic did as he was told and leant back so Porthos could have a look at the bleeding gunshot wound.

After untying the sash from around Aramis's shoulder Porthos was silent for a few seconds before turning to look sheepishly at his friend.

"And that's why I'm the medic in our quartet my friend" teased Aramis with a light chuckle when he noticed the look Porthos was giving him. Wincing as it pulled on his numerous bruises Aramis turned his head to look at his shoulder. Prodding it lightly with a shaking hand he noted with a relieved sigh that it remained surprising clear of infection. He instructed Porthos on how to check the exit wound and, letting out another sigh when that too was clear.

"Just going to need to bandage it tighter is suppose," he said after noting that no additional damage had been done besides starting it up bleeding again. Though to Porthos's amusement he seemed to be glaring at the offending joint as if it had personally wrong him.

"Let me" Porthos stated, taking the bloody sash out of Aramis's shaking hands to rewrap it around the wound. He tied it as tightly as he could without causing his own injured shoulder any further pain and was in the middle of having a silent discussion with himself as to whether or not he should wrap his belt around it as well to help keep the pressure on it when a rare but all too familiar scream pierced the air.

"Athos" the pair whispered brokenly, tears gathering in their eyes, as they were unable to do anything but listen to those they cared about scream.

It took several moments for Porthos to push down his rage at Ortiz enough to recognize that Aramis was praying beside him.

Saying nothing the larger man simply grabbed his brother's hand in his own, both offering and taking comfort from the sharpshooter.

Feeling a hand on his own Aramis sent his brother a sad look but did not stop his prayers.

The pair of then sat together for several hours, their only movement being to flinch whenever Athos screamed. Both men knew how their friend was, how hard he would fight not to let out a sound… even more so if D'Artagnan was with him. They had all seen the fierce guilt burning in their younger brother's eyes and knew that Athos especially would do anything not to add to that. The mere fact that he was now screaming was a testament to how badly their friend must be hurt.

It was beginning to get dark when the pair of worried musketeers heard the telltale signs of someone approaching their cell. Desperately hoping it was their brothers the two men scrambled to their feet and rushed as far forwards as their chains would allow them to move.

Their eyes widened in anguish and fear as Ortiz strolled into the room, wearing his sickening smirk. Two guards had followed behind him, dragging an unconscious, bloody Athos between them.

"No need to chain him" stated Ortiz to the guards when they went to re-chain the musketeer to the wall. "I very much doubt he'll be up for moving for some time," he explained, smiling sadistically at the two stricken men chained before him.

Aramis's eyes had not left Athos's bloody form since he appeared in the doorway and the typically laidback Spaniard felt a fierce growl building in his throat as he could do nothing but watch when the guards holding his brother shrugged at Ortiz's declaration before proceeding to simply chuck his beloved brother on the floor like he was trash.

From his position in the room Aramis was unable to see the extent of Athos's injuries but by the dried blood that coated a great deal of his flesh, he could imagine them.

"Where's D'Artagnan?" Growled Porthos angrily, his voice pulling Aramis's attention away from Athos. Fear pulsed through the pair of conscious musketeers when they both realized their youngest was no-where to be seen.

"Oh he's 'hanging around' for a bit longer" grinned Ortiz and something about the way he spoke made the hairs on Porthos's arms stand on end. "Have a nice night," he laughed before leaving with his guards.

"HEY!" The larger musketeer roared, pulling on his chains as he thrashed about in anger

"Athos" called Aramis softly, willing his brother to give them some sort of sign he was still alive. Heavens above its like D'Artagnan all over again ranted the medic's panicking mind.

"Can you reach him?" Asked Porthos wanting… no needing to know that one of his oldest and dearest friends was still breathing.

"If I could would I still be sitting here!?" snapped Aramis before allowing his panicked mind to register the slightly shocked and alarmingly hurt look on Porthos's face.

Sighing he sent his brother an apologetic sad smile, "Apologies my friend that was unfair of me"

"'s'alright" Porthos nodded, responding to the smile with one of his own. "Think it's safe ta say this whole situation has us all a little bit on edge"

Aramis snorted, a frail version of his trademark cheeky grin lighting up his face, "That my dear Porthos. Is the understatement of the century,"

Porthos had just opened his mouth, about to continue the banter between the two of them, a grin on his face as he reveled in the knowledge that even in a situation like this, he could still make Aramis smile. But it was at that moment that Athos made the first signs of wakefulness.

"Athos!" cried the two men, ecstatic to see any signs from their brother.

However their words were a little too loud for the swordsman's still pounding head and as such he let out a small groan, his shaking hand weakly coming up to press lightly against his temple.

"Sorry my friend" apologized Aramis, ensuring that he kept his voice quiet as he instantly recognized what was plaguing his brother. "We have been quite worried"

"…D…'Tagnan?"

The two men shared a grimace, grateful that their slowly waking friend could not see it. "Still wherever you were if Ortiz's jabber was anything to go by" Porthos informed him, barely keeping his anger under wrap

This got Athos's attention, gritting his teeth against the pain and forcing his mind to ignore the coppery taste of blood that was on his tongue, he forced his body to roll over so he was lying on his front before attempting to get on all fours so he could push himself up.

Unfortunately this movement meant that his brothers now had an un-obscured view of his mutilated back… and if their shocked outcry was anything to go by it was as bad as it felt.

"Oh mon ami" breathed Aramis, his eyes full of sympathy and pain for his old friend.

"Two minutes" growled Porthos, his voice so near feral that it actually worried the two men, "That all I need… Two minutes in a room with him without these" he growled, shaking the chains for added effect.

"That… would be … near im-impossible at… the moment my friend" Wheezed Athos, groaning as he tried to get into a sitting position.

"Don't mean I can't plan what I'll do in advance," grumbled the brawler, the knuckles on his hands pure white as he clenched his fists so tightly.

"As long as you leave some for me" demanded the medic, his eyes still glued to the mess that was Athos's back

Weakly raising an eyebrow at his companions as the pair began discussing what they would do to Ortiz the second they got their hands on him Athos knew it was time to step in when things started to get a touch too graphic for his still queasy stomach. "Maybe I can help with that," he wheezed, a small, almost unnoticeable smirk gracing his bruised face when both of his brothers looked at him with confusion and a hint of eagerness.

"… I could only get the one" he explained as he slide an object across the room to Porthos who eyed it with surprise and no small amount of manic glee.

"How did you-"

"Will it work?" Athos asked, needing to know his last act of consciousness before being dragged away from his helpless brother was not in vain.

"I've made do with worse" shrugged Porthos as he twirled the small dagger in his hands "Just'll take longer"

"We'll leave you to it then" said Aramis before turning to Athos, clearly having gone into 'medic-mode' "Can you get any closer to me? I'd really like to check out those wounds"

Had it been anyone else Athos would have told them to sod off, as the pain in his back was intense. But he could hear the pain and worry in his friend's voice and so forced himself to shift as closer to the medic as he could get before the pain became too much.

"Are those… Burns?"

"Yep" he replied dryly his exhausted mind not really registering the anger lacing Aramis's words

"He burnt you?" Growled the sharpshooter

"That's usually how one ends up with burns," sighed Athos tiredly

Had it been any less serious situation Porthos might have laughed at the look on Aramis's face as Athos replied to all his questions completely deadpan and sarcastic. As it was his brothers were now relying on him getting them out of there so he pushed the slightly amusing thought to one side and resumed work trying to pick the lock of his chains.

"Were the blades clean?" Aramis asked, his voice grim as he lightly ran his fingers over Athos's mutilated back, trying to push down his murderous thoughts as Athos winced at the lightest touch. He already had D'Artagnan's quite possible infection to deal with he didn't need Athos's wounds getting infected on him too… Especially as the crude cauterization – and by gods did it take nearly all of his focus not to throw up after seeing that that's what had happened to his brother – had sealed all possible infectious material under the skin, making it all the more difficult to treat should they become infected.

"Didn't think to ask" snapped Athos sarcastically, twisting his head so he could glare at his friend. "Had other things on the mind"

Aramis blinked at Athos's words before realizing the man was in a lot of pain, both physical and emotional, and that his questioning was most likely not helping the situation.

Saying nothing the medic gently placed his hand over Athos's forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze and let his eyes tell the man his silent apologies.

"…How are… You doing?" Athos asked tiredly, having noticed when Aramis placed his hand on his arm that his friend was significantly paler then when he had left. His pain-filled eyes also noted the blood on the sash wrapping the wound was now covering most of the fabric.

" 'e says 'es fine" grunted Porthos, letting the two men in on just how much he believed that.

"I am" stressed the Spaniard, shooting the brawler a look that was lost on the man due to his focus on the locks before him. "My… Reaction to you and D'Artagnan merely made it start bleeding again is all."

Athos opened his mouth to retort when he was cut off by a large yawn – much to his brothers' amusement.

"Sleep my friend" Aramis said softly, running his hand through the swordsman's hair as he spoke. "You can berate me for my actions in the morning"

To tired to really take in his friend's words Athos settled for nodding sluggishly before slowly maneuvering himself into a slightly more comfortable position and closing his eyes.

"…How bad is he really," Porthos asked quietly, lowering the dagger to the ground as he watched Athos sleep. He hated the fact that the lines of pain were still present on his face even in sleep.

Aramis sighed, looking at Athos sadly as he rubbed small circles softly on the sleeping musketeer's hand. "I'm surprised he was even conscious enough to speak to us" the medic admitted sadly, "The pain he must be in"

"He'll pull through 'Mis" Porthos reassured softly, gripping the medic's other hand in his own before adding "we all will"

MEANWHILE

He hated this. Hated knowing that just behind the door was were someone he used to play with as a child was slowly dying.

He had tried to reason with Ortiz to at least allow the musketeer some food, even having gone as far as to say that he could starve to death before he gave up any information and then the information Ortiz wanted would die with him.

He knew Charles D'Artagnan, if he loved the three other captured men as much as he seemed to, there was absolutely no way he would have shared the stolen documents location with them out of fear for their safety.

He had hated listening to all the screams the last several days. Ortiz might have his allegiance but he had never wanted anyone to be hurt, let alone killed.

When a muffled moan along with the clinking of chains passed through the door his decision was made.

Several minutes later he returned to the door, glancing around nervously as if Ortiz or his lieutenants were going to suddenly appear around the corner before he slipped into the room.

The sight of his childhood playmate hanging limply in the middle of the room made him sick. Sure he and D'Artagnan had drifted apart massively as they grew up passed the point where childish games were tolerated and one started helping with the farms – he focusing on his family's farm and his responsibility to it while D'Artagnan continually pursued his obsession with training to be a musketeer. He may have even hated him at one point or another – but he had never wished this on the young man.

"Charles" he whispered, gently tapping the young man's face as he spoke

"mmmm" came a mumbled reply as the Gascon struggled to get the energy to even open his eyes.

"Come on Charlie" he teased, hoping the hated nickname would help wake his old friend up, "get it whilst its still warm"

As he spoke he wafted the small cup he had brought with him under D'Artagnan's nose.

The smell of the broth in the cup along with the nickname was enough to rouse the exhausted Gascon.

"Small sips Charlie" instructed the man, tilting the cup so D'Artagnan could drink the broth. It really wasn't much nutrition wise but he hoped it would be enough to keep the battered young man alive; he really had no desire to have his death on his conscience.