Evening My Lovelies!

We get to see our missing Gascon as well as Porthos today and lets just say things are not looking good :D

Notes On Reviews:

Deana: Thanks for the review - Hehe Glad you liked it :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

FierGascon: Thanks for the review - Good to know you have the meters ready, we're going to need them. This whole situation is forcing Aramis to push through his grief which is allowing his snarky side to come out on occasion. We get a little bit more banter today, though its on the concerned side. Enjoy the new chapter! x

watlocked: Thanks for the reviews - Glad to have you back :) With regards to D'Arts bossy side it'll appear on occasion but he's not completely comfortable around our muskys yet so he'll be a bit awkward about doing so. Our boys are definitely learning the hard way not to ignore gut feelings (you would have thought they would have learnt by now) Athos will most likely have things to say to Aramis and D'Art but for now he has more important to worry about. Rants are always fun :D This story will have plenty of them :) Hehe glad you're liking/hating the villain. I'm really happy you're enjoying the story so far, hopefully you'll continue to do so as the story progresses (especially as we're beginning to get into whumpage) We've got some serious emotional whumpage coming Aramis's way in later chapters, I'm actually feeling quite bad for having it planned. Haha Now I'm just imagining Marcel as a bird XD Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - Oh yeah they're definitely feeling a bit sheepish for getting drugged. Whumpage is beginning to start now though more so in tomorrows chapter. Enjoy the new chapter! x

criminally charmed: Thanks for the review - That pride will probably be replaced with exasperation during chapter 11, our pup's having another reckless moment. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Katie (Guest): Thanks for the review - :D Thank you for the kind words and I'm really happy you're enjoying the story so far. Oh in that case you'll probably hate me today as well... Sorry! Enjoy the new chapter! x

Zoe (Guest): Thanks for the review - Hehe Glad you liked it, I really liked writing their bit. You are quite right to worry about D'Art but you'll see more of why tomorrow. As for the woman we'll find out who she is during chapter 9. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Lilac Lavender: Thanks for the review - Haha glad you liked it, I loved writing the Aramis/Athos moment during that chapter. You're right to be anxious though we'll be seeing more whumpage tomorrow. Enjoy the new chapter! x

As always many thanks and much love for following/favouriting/reviewing/reading

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter Seven: A Reunion... Of Sorts II

"How bad?" Porthos asked with no small amount of concern in his voice as he watched the young Gascon wince with pain as he fidgeted on the floor.

D'Artagnan raised a questioning eyebrow, "Shouldn't I be asking you that? I'm not the one who was drugged then dragged all the way here."

"True," Porthos nodded, a small smile at the boy's cheek threatening to form only to be pushed down by yet another wince of pain from the young man. "But you are the one who looks like he took quite a beating," he added nodding to the several dark bruises marring the young man's face.

D'Artagnan had he sense to look sheepish then, clearly not having realized how battered he actually looked. "It's nothing I can't handle," he said, barely holding back another wince, "I'm fine."

Porthos sighed and leveled any further 'assurances' with a stern look, "Kid, we stopped believing your 'I'm fines' after you collapsed into our arms after the whole Vadim incident."

D'Artagnan winced again, only this time it was from memory not pain and it was then Porthos's turn to look sheepish. The musketeer knew how shaken up the whole incident had left the boy, not that any of them blamed him, getting strapped to barrels of gunpowder and left for dead would do that to anybody.

The young Gascon had been adamant when they met up afterwards that, apart from being a little shaky, he was fine. Only to then pale dramatically over the next few minutes before passing out in Porthos's very worried arms. When they had finally managed to get the Gascon back to Athos's rooms for treatment they found that not only was he suffering from multiple blows to the head but his wrists were shredded, his shoes practically melted onto his feet and more than a couple of his ribs were broken... All in all the musketeers had learnt never to fully trust the boy's assessment of his health again after that point.

"It's nothing," D'Artagnan reiterated, not looking Porthos in the eye as he mentally shook off the remnants of that memory, "We have more important things to worry about then me at the moment.

"Listen whelp," scolded Porthos, the drumming in his own head only heightening the annoyance he was feeling at D'Artagnan's continued dismissal. "We both know I'm not about to give this up so I'll say again. How bad?"

D'Artagnan scowled at the older man, though there was very little true anger behind it. "Ribs," he admitted after a few moments of silence, "He managed to get in a few good shots before he decided to knock me out."

Porthos's eyes filled with sympathy, no wonder the boy kept flinching. "Broken?"

"Probably," D'Artagnan admitted with a resigned sigh, only to curse under his breath as pain shot through him. "Hurts when I breathe so I'm going with yeah."

"How'd 'e get the best of you anyways whelp?"

Porthos felt his eyebrows raise in question when D'Artagnan looked sheepish yet again.

"I… was distracted." He admitted quietly

"By?" Porthos asked, though he already had a feeling he knew the answer.

"Aramis," D'Artagnan admitted, hating that what he was about to say would insinuate he lacked faith in his friend but also knowing in his heart that Porthos needed to know. "He's… not been thinking clearly. I know you all say I'm too rash and hot-headed at times but he was ready to leave without backup or a note. Had I not been there when the letter was received Aramis would have left the garrison straight away without saying anything to anyone. I didn't want whoever was behind all of this to get the better of him because his grief and worry were making it hard for him to think straight."

"So you decided not to think straight by worryin' bout 'im."

"I…"

"'S'alright whelp," said Porthos reassuringly when he saw the expression on D'Artagnan's face. "We've all been there."

D'Artagnan let out a breath he hadn't even noticed he had been holding. The young man was sure Porthos was going to be angry with him, so to learn he wasn't, was a huge relief to the battered young man.

Unable to resist teasing the boy a little bit when he saw the obvious relief in his eyes Porthos added, "Course 'Thos'll probably be 'aving you do extra training so you don't get 'distracted' again."

Watching the alarm grow on the young man's face at the thought of even sterner training sessions was completely worth the jab in Porthos's opinion, as was the glare he received when he was no longer able to contain his laughter.

Both men abruptly froze however when they heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of their cell door.

"Don't stop on my account," smirked the man as he sauntered into the room, his smirk only grew when he saw the glares being directed his way by both men.

"You gonna tell us why you 'ave us chained up or are you just here to admire the view?" grouched Porthos, his question drawing a raised eyebrow from D'Artagnan and a small falter of the smirk from the new arrival.

"Straight to business then I see. My name is Marcel and you are here to help… 'persuade' that Spanish friend of yours to give me the information I seek."

Porthos actually snorted at that, a smirk of his own growing as he looked at the confused face of their captor. "And how's that goin' for ya?" he asked with barely veiled amusement.

"Your friend is remarkably stubborn," admitted Marcel, "I do not wish to resort to violence, hence your own presence here, but I will should he continue to refuse answering my questions."

Both men felt a small weight lift off of them at the knowledge that Aramis had not been physically harmed since being captured, though the threat of violence upon their friend was enough to have both men wary.

"We can hardly get him to talk if we're locked in here now can we?" sniped D'Artagnan, hoping his plan would actually pay off. He knew that to move them into another room the chains keeping them would need to be removed, at that point they could try their luck at overpowering the single man.

Porthos caught on to D'Artagnan's plan straight away and while he was all for it he was also worried about the young man's ability to actually go through with it, he was struggling just to sit there without showing pain so Porthos was questioning his ability to fight.

Marcel eyed the pair for a moment before seemingly agreeing to the Gascon's comment.

"This is true," he nodded not missing the pleased smirk that graced the young man's face for a moment before he was able to hide it. "Plus it will be interesting to see if your condition draws some emotion from your stone faced friend."

D'Artagnan's brows furrowed in confusion, 'his condition?' sure he was looking fairly beat up but…

Before D'Artagnan could finish that thought Marcel was right in front of him and a sickly sweet smelling cloth was being pressed against his nose and mouth causing him to ignore the pain in his ribs as he struggled against the man's hold.

"D'ARTAGNAN!" bellowed Porthos as he watched in horror as the boy's struggles became weaker and weaker until he was slumped forward against his chains.

"What the hell did you do to him?"

"Relax, he's just unconscious," said Marcel as he patted the unconscious Gascon's cheek. Deeming him to be fully under and not faking the man moved to unlock him from his chains, only to then tie his wrists together using some rope.

"He's 'ardly fighting back, why bother with the ropes?" snapped Porthos, his eyes never leaving D'Artagnan's slumped form.

Marcel laughed, "And what of when he wakes? I am not stupid musketeer. Now are you going to co-operate?" he asked holding up a pair of cuffs, "I would dearly hate for something to happen to the boy when he so defenseless."

Scowling at the threat to his newest and youngest brother Porthos bit his cheek and nodded, glaring daggers at Marcel when he had the audacity to smirk at him.

At the sound of the door opening both Aramis and Athos put a stop to their hushed conversation though neither man could help the widening of their eyes as Porthos was pushed into the room.

"Porthos!" Aramis exclaimed, pulling at his restraints as much as he could.

"How…" Athos began to ask only to be cut off by the very pissed off musketeer.

"I'm good," he grunted turning to glare over his shoulder at Marcel who was slowly making his way into the room. "It's the whelp we need to worry bout," he added quietly so only his brothers' heard him.

"D'Artagnan!" Cried Aramis as he watched Marcel lift the unconscious boy off of his shoulders and place him on the floor.

"If you have harmed him," snarled Athos, surprising both musketeers slightly with the danger his voice promised.

"Ahh," grinned Marcel as he moved to chain Porthos's cuffs to the wall, "Not so stone-cold after all I see." Athos's only response was to glare at the man.

"Now that we're all here how about you get around to telling me what I want to know?" he stated, staring hard at Aramis.

If anything Aramis's glare turned even deadlier, "I told you, I have no idea what you're talking about. Why don't you get that through your thick skull already!"

Realizing all of Marcel's attention was on Aramis, Porthos turned to face Athos whose attention kept flickering between the three men. Once he managed to get the swordsman's attention Porthos mouthed What?

Grimacing slightly Athos allowed his attention to quickly flicker back to Aramis and Marcel who seemed to be silently glaring daggers at each other before he turned back to Porthos and mouthed a single word reply. Marsac.

Well shit Porthos internally winced; no wonder Aramis was so high-strung.

"Enough of this!" Snarled Marcel as he backhanded the medic, the action drawing the complete attention of the group, allowing for the small stir from D'Artagnan to go unnoticed.

"Marsac wouldn't have risked returning to Paris unless he was certain and as his friend you would be the only one he confided in."

"Why do you care about Marsac's reasons anyway?" Athos growled, hoping to take the attention off of Aramis for at least a moment so the medic could compose himself. The mention of him being Marsac's friend had brought back the guilt and grief the sharpshooter had, up to this point, pushed to one side.

"He had answers I want," snapped Marcel, his calm slipping dangerously fast. "With him dead my only option is to confront those he would have confided in. The girl was no help, though she did resist quite admirably before giving up your friend here."

"Son of a," snarled Aramis, "Where is she!"

"Talk and maybe I'll tell you."

While the focus was once again on Aramis, none of the rooms other occupants noticed the quiet struggles coming from D'Artagnan as the boy worked to pull himself free of his bindings, fervently ignoring the shredded skin on his wrists and the blood his actions produced.

Once he was clear D'Artagnan shakily stood, thankful that Marcel had placed him behind everyone else so no one was reacting to him just yet. Wrapping one bloodied arm around his torso in an attempt to support his broken ribs the Gascon allowed himself a moment to assess the situation.

Only to then ignore any semblance of proper planning when he saw their captor punch Aramis in the stomach, successfully knocking the wind out of him.

At his friend's pained grunt D'Artagnan launched himself at Marcel.