Evening My Lovelies!

Sorry its late again, I got distracted writing.

Now this chapter is a little bit of an odd one, we're going from serious to weird to serious again. I think my mind has the whumpage moments planned out and then forgets the moments in between which is the only reasoning I can think of for the conversation that happens between two of our boys in this chapter. I have no idea where it came from but it kinda works so hopefully you'll like it :)

Notes On Reviews:

Tidia: Thanks for the review - Aramis is going to try to hurry... emphasis on try :) Hmm if you're hating Marcel now you're probably really going to hate him in coming chapters. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Deana: Thanks for the review - Sorry to keep you waiting :) You've got a short wait (like a day :D) but Aramis is due some whumpage worry not :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Katie (Guest): Thanks for the review - Haha that seems to be the general consensus where Marcel's concerned. D'Art and Aramis are going to try but it wouldnt be me if something didnt go wrong :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

FierGascon: Thanks for the review - Hmmm that's an interesting idea but no Viv is not the mastermind behind all this, though now part of me is wishing i had made her that as thats quite a good idea ... oh well. I dont really want to say much about Marcel as I'll probably give it all away and then you'll all hate me so you'll just have to wait and find out. Enjoy the new chapter! x

criminally charmed: Thanks for the review - Yep :) D'Art gives as good as he gets protectiveness wise ... Plus it helps that he has very little sense of self preservation it seems lol Enjoy the new chapter! x

watlocked: Thanks for the review - Marcel has his reasons and we'll be learning a bit more about the situation tomorrow. Glad you think so :) You've always given good suggestions in the past so if you think of anything don't hesitate to say :) I'm tempted to have Aramis let it slip to Athos once their all in the clear that D'Art stepped in front of a gun, just to write his reaction lol. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the reviews - Gotta love protective boys :D How strange? I'm only uploading one chapter a day so I'm not quite sure what's going on there... Maybe the sites playing up again or something. D'Art's definitely causing our boys no shortage of headaches, especially Aramis but then he wouldnt be our pup if he didnt :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

MoonlightTaylor (Guest): Thanks for the review - We get to see Porthos's guilt over the whole situation tomorrow, I really like how it turned out so I'm hoping you'll all enjoy it as well. Trouble, that's what's waiting for our boys on the road :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Zoe (Guest): Thanks for the review - Would he be the Athos we know and love if he didnt? I'll admit that the confusion Marcel is causing people is a lot of fun for me :D More than a little bit of pain might be coming our boy's way, but then that just means more comfort/brotherly moments which are always fun to write :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

Jmp (Guest): Thanks for the review - Haha that response mean's I'm doing my job with my baddie :D There's no way D'Art would let Aramis leave him behind so that's out of the question, despite being the logical option. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Helensg: Thanks for the review - You may be on to something my friend, best wait till tomorrow to find out :D Worry not there's lots more whumpage coming Athos's way in the next few chapters. Enjoy the new chapter! x

MicheeO: Thanks for the review - Bwahahaha! I would love to know just how Porthos would be able to persuade Marcel to do that XD I'm afraid pretty much none of those questions will be answered today... I'm evil I know but thats why you love me :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

Lilac Lavender: Thanks for the review - I do think Athos might have to learn of D'Arts actions at some point, purely as I'm curious as to how he'd react... we'll see. Aramis is not above emotional blackmail if it gets the boy to listen to him thats for sure. Having Athos volunteer has led to some really nice (not sure thats quite the right word but oh well) moments between him and Porthos. I'll admit I'm really curious as to what you'll think of their bantering session today. As I've warned it's pretty weird but I couldnt not keep it in once I read it through XD Enjoy the new chapter! x

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

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter Twelve: Two Spoons

The midday sun was just beginning to bear down on the two men when the abandoned barn they had left their horses at finally came into view.

"Thank God," sighed Aramis under his breath. The musketeer had been trying very hard not to think about what their friends had suffered because of the time it took them to simply reach their mounts.

Unfortunately for the two men the ground, which was uneven to begin with, had become saturated with mud during the rain the night before making travelling more difficult. Added to that were D'Artagnan's injuries, which despite his attempts to brush off, had been causing the young man no end of pain and the fact that Aramis wasn't in prime condition either. The musketeer was now over a week into a routine of little sleep and a diet that mostly consisted of whatever alcohol he could get his hands on at the time, which meant that the musketeer was beginning to suffer from bouts of light-headedness and exhaustion that made traversing the slippery ground difficult.

"Come," gestured the medic, pushing aside all thoughts of what could be happening to his friends right about now, "lets get those injuries seen to so we can head home."

"Aramis," sighed D'Artagnan, it very much almost coming out as a whine.

The medic silenced the boy with one sharp look, "We've been through this D'Artagnan," snapped the musketeer, "You're in no condition to travel so either you let me look at you or you stay here."

D'Artagnan almost reeled back, surprised by the sharpness of Aramis's words. The Gascon knew the medic was stressed, exhausted, worried and no doubt his constant dismissal of his injuries was grating on his last nerve but he hadn't expected the outburst he'd received.

Aramis noticed this and despite feeling guilty for having hurt the boy he refused to soften his stance on the matter. Only choosing to allow some of his usual warmth back into his eyes when a shamefaced D'Artagnan nodded, hung his head and began walking to their horses.

"Right," Aramis said gently as he finished sorting out his supplies, he had already ordered D'Artagnan to remove his shirt so he could bind his ribs and the medic found his whole demeanor softening when D'Artagnan complied without question or complaint. "I'm going to do your ribs first so just try to breathe normally while I do this."

D'Artagnan nodded and closed his eyes against the uncomfortable pain that was getting his ribs bound, Aramis had offered to make some pain reliever but in the Gascon's eyes they were already losing time because of him and he was not going to make them lose any more just so he could be comfortable.

"You good D'Art?" Aramis asked softly as he finished tying off the bandage, his keen eyes watched the boy for any sign that the pain was too much. It hurt him that he was as relieved as he was that the Gascon had refused the pain medication. He knew that the boy would be in a lot of pain, particularly when they started riding but he couldn't get the thought of Athos or Porthos being tortured because of the time it would take to stop and make the draught. That being said however he was in no way going to let the boy push himself too far so he watched, observed and thanked the Lord for the boy's stubbornness and resilience.

Shuffling slightly as he tried to get used to the constricting bandage on his chest D'Artagnan nodded, a small reassuring smile on his face that quickly turned into a grimace when the medic took a gentle hold of his broken arm and began to examine it.

"Sorry," soothed Aramis as D'Artagnan hissed in pain at his ministrations, "I need to know how badly it's broken before I can set and wrap it."

"It's fine," grunted the Gascon, his eyes staring stubbornly at the ceiling as he fought to contain the tears of pain that threatened to escape thanks to the inferno of pain Aramis's examination was causing.

"You're in luck my friend," grinned Aramis as he released D'Artagnan's arm, the boy bringing it to his chest protectively as soon as he did so, "The bone was a clean break and despite the journey to get here the bone hasn't significantly shifted at all so I'll splint and wrap it then we can be on our way."

Not trusting himself to speak as Aramis began his work D'Artagnan grunted in reply, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood as his arm was tended to.

"'Thos?" whispered Porthos, his voice heavy with worry as he waited for some sign of awareness from his friend. It had been at least four hours since Aramis and D'Artagnan had left and since then Marcel had come in twice to tighten the cuffs keeping Athos trapped in the chair and each time the larger musketeer was powerless to do anything but sit there and watch as his friend and brother tried not to vocalize any signs of pain despite the evidence being clear as day on his face.

"Come on 'Thos, talk to me," he begged, needing to see that his brother was okay, that he had done the right thing in ignoring all his instincts and deciding instead to follow Athos's order of letting him volunteer for the chair.

"I-If Aramis… dallies on… t-the way back… to flirt with another barmaid… I'm gonna kill him," grunted Athos tiredly, peering at his friend through the flop of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

To relieved to comment on the randomness that was Athos's statement Porthos snorted, "Don't think the whelp would let him get away with that even if he wanted to. The kid worries."

"H-How long?"

The grim look returned to Porthos's face, "Bout four hours I'd wager, possibly longer."

"Hopefully they're on route to Paris by now," groaned the swordsman, wincing as he forced his fingers and toes to move.

"You should try to rest," suggested Porthos softly, the worry returning when he noticed the exhaustion lining his friend's face. "We have time till Marcel's due to return, might as well make use of it."

The look Athos sent him told the larger musketeer how likely that possibility was. Sweat was already gleaming on the swordsman's face and as Porthos had no idea how tight the cuff had been tightened he could only imagine the pain his brother was in.

"You shouldn't 'ave volunteered," mumbled Porthos, guilt shining brightly in his eyes.

Athos shot him a look, "Better me then you my friend," grunted the swordsman.

Before Porthos could respond the door to their cell opened causing both men to tense, though the action caused Athos pain to do so.

"Thought we'd have longer till we saw your ugly mug again," grumbled Porthos, the fear and worry he was feeling at the unexpected visit thankfully masked.

"Well if you're not hungry…" Shrugged Marcel, both musketeers noticing the two bowls the man was holding and before either could say anything Porthos's stomach betrayed them by grumbling loudly causing the larger man to curse quietly and a flicker of amusement to erase some of the pain in Athos's eyes.

Moving to Porthos first Marcel handed him the bowl of bland but warm stew, ignoring the suspicious look the musketeer gave him as he took it.

"I'd sooner starve than let you feed me," growled Athos as the man came to stand in front of him, the musketeer's eyes narrowing as Marcel chuckled.

"Worry not musketeer," Marcel said using his free hand to unlock one of the cuffs that had yet to be significantly tightened, allowing the musketeer to have a hand free to eat. "I'll be back for the bowls soon, best eat while it's still warm."

"…Recon it poisoned?" enquired Porthos once Marcel had left, prodding the stew hesitantly with the spoon as he spoke.

"Unlikely," reassured Athos as he rotated his now free wrist, relishing the fading pain. Once he was finished he turned his attention to the food given to them, as much as he didn't trust Marcel there was something that told him the man didn't truly want him dead, at least not yet anyway and because of that the swordsman decided the food was safe.

Upon seeing Athos devour a few bites with no immediate side-effects Porthos moved to devour his own, slightly relieved to know their captor didn't plan to starve them as well as torture them.

"What?" Athos asked with a small hint of amusement in his voice as he noticed the way Porthos was staring at his spoon.

Lifting his face to smirk at his friend Porthos replied, "remember that Red Guard I defeated with a fork?"

Athos snorted, he was pretty sure he would never forget that brilliant moment, sure Treville had lectured them for ages about dueling but seeing the smugness of that Red Guard shatter as Porthos fought and won against him with nothing but a dinner fork was completely worth it.

"I don't think that will work for you this time my friend," smiled the swordsman.

The amusement in Athos's eyes grew when Porthos pouted, "Could do."

"Not a fork," Athos pointed out, trying very hard not to laugh at the faces his friend was pulling.

Seeing the light return to his friend's face Porthos grinned and shrugged, unbothered by the man's words, "I could make it work."

"I have no doubt, but there's another fault in your master plan."

"Oh?" queried the larger man, immensely pleased that Athos was playing along.

"He's not a red guard," deadpanned the swordsman causing the larger musketeer to let out a booming laugh in response.

"Something tells me I missed quite a conversation," remarked Marcel as he entered the room, slightly unnerved to see both men in much lighter spirits then he had expected given their predicament.

Noticing the tenseness of Athos's frame Porthos sent his friend a look full of complete seriousness as he asked, "what about two spoons?" nodding down at the spoon in the swordsman's hand.

Letting out a snort at the imagery that comment produced as well as the completely confused look of their captor Athos actually frowned when Marcel took his bowl and spoon away from him and replaced the cuff on his wrist.

That frown quickly turned into a grimace as Marcel knelt down to sharply turned the mechanism on one of the ankle cuffs, causing it to tighten significantly, the musketeer barely biting back a scream of pain as he could practically feel his bones straining under the pressure.

Porthos noticed a small amount of blood escaping his brother's mouth and knew the man had bitten his cheek hard enough to draw blood in his effort to not let Marcel win by screaming.

When Marcel made his way over to him Porthos glared daggers at the man, a dangerous smirk coming to his face as he muttered, just loud enough for the man to hear him, "Definitely two spoons."

Marcel look thoroughly confused but picked up the dishes and moved to the door.

Pausing by the door with dishes in hand Marcel turned back and asked, "Are all musketeers as bizarre as you?" Porthos's response was simply to smirk at the man as he left.

"How're you doing D'Art?" called Aramis with no small amount of worry in his voice.

The pair had been racing hard down the road for a couple of hours and still had some ways to ride. Thankfully the ground had evened out but the mud caused no end of jostling from the horses and Aramis couldn't help but worry about his injured friend.

Looking over his shoulder once he realized his friend had yet to respond he found himself cursing under his breath at the pale complexion and trembling frame the young Gascon was sporting. It also looked like the only reason the boy hadn't replied was because all of his energy was going on not crying out in pain.

Internally berating himself for letting the boy get so bad Aramis slowed his horse until it was level with D'Artagnan's own mare, the medic's arrival startling the pale boy slightly and caused him to raise an eyebrow in question.

"We should stop," Aramis explained, the words hard to get out as every instinct wanted nothing more than to race to Paris no matter the cost.

D'Artagnan's eyes widened and the boy forced himself to sit upright in the saddle, "No!"

"You're in pain, you need a break," reasoned the medic though there was a traitorous part of him that was jumping with joy at the boy's resistance.

Glaring at the medic, D'Artagnan forced his face to become expressionless. He had already caused enough of a delay he refused to cause anymore. "I'm fine," he declared firmly before urging his horse on harder, leaving Aramis to sigh at his stubbornness before doing the same.

Throughout this entire exchange neither man noticed the gleam of a spyglass some distance behind them, nor the grin the user wore when he realized he was gaining on his prey.