Evening My Lovelies

This took a little longer to write then I had hoped but damn do I like how it turned out :D

Because of this I'm going to beg for reviews from you all! I really really REALLY want to know what you all think of this so please please PLEASE review! *offers cookies, cakes and other yummy goodies as bribes*

Notes On Reviews:

Romirola: Thanks for the review - Glad you had a fun catch up :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

criminally charmed: Thanks for the review - Bwhaha your review made me laugh, definitely not going easy on any of them :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

Deana: Thanks for the review - Yeah... he wasn't originally crazy, I'm beginning to think I can't create a baddie that doesnt end up batshit crazy by the end of a story lol. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Maryg (Guest): Thanks for the review - Oh I'm planning for him to end up in pretty rough shape by then end of all this worry not :) His mouth is going to get him in a bit more trouble today but he's actually using it for a good reason so maybe we'll let him off. I love writing the protective side of our boys so I'm really glad you enjoyed reading it. Athos and Aramis's reactions are something I'm really looking forward to seeing everyones reactions to :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

f1gymnast: Thanks for the review - Unfortunately D'Art's mouth is going to get him into a little more trouble today but its for a good reason so I suppose we might be able to let him off for that. Protective Porthos is great to write but yeah you're right. Marcel targeting the pup is only going to anger our boys even more. Part of me feels like writing a bit of Marcel going to Constance and her just slapping him lol. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - Haha yeah I know :D No one threatens Constance when our favourite pup's around :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

pallysdeeks: Thanks for the review - I'm almost tempted to do it just to write her slapping him lol but you're right our boys would lose it if he actually captured her. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Issai: Thanks for the review - I would say he's doing it because he's a sadistic freak but he does have a plan (of sorts) which is hopefully coming a littler clearer by the end of this chapter... maybe... if i've written it well enough... It all makes sense to me but that because I know how its supposed to be so fingers crossed it makes sense to you guys as well. Enjoy the new chapter! x

MicheeO: Thanks for the review - Mwhaha yeah definitely nothing good planned for them, not that anything good ever really happens to them when I'm around lol. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Tidia: Thanks for the review - Yeah Marcel's not going to live too long, especially when our boys get a hold of him :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

Lilac Lavender: Thanks for the review - I have a feeling you might really like this chapter so I'm really hoping that feeling is right :D Our lovely pup is one tough cookie and he's too stubborn to let the pain keep him down too long, especially when his friends are in danger. Insults were probably not the best way to go but I just couldn't see D'Art remaining silent. Corbett's a musketeer, couldn't not have him doing something... Plus he's pretty bitter over how he was captured. Haha I think Porthos will be forcing Athos and Aramis to join him in talking to the boy about how he handles himself in situations like that given his habit of attracting trouble. Protective D'Art is always great to write so I'm glad you enjoyed him, no one messes with or threatens to mess with our pup's woman and gets away with it :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

As always many thanks for following/favouriting/reviewing/reading. Love you all!

Enjoy!

xxx

p.s: PLEASE REVIEW!

Chapter Seventy-Four: Fury

With a small groan of pain Athos's eyes sluggishly opened and his brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to remember when he had fallen asleep. His sleep-addled mind was debating this question when he became increasingly aware of the warmth on his side.

The confusion faded from the musketeer's face as a sad yet fond smile took its place. There, nestled as tightly into his side as he could possibly manage, was Aramis. The disheveled medic had his head resting on Athos's shoulder and his hands fisted tightly into the swordsman's shirt. Somehow though, even in sleep, his friend had been aware enough not to jostle his broken ankle as their legs remained untangled, something unusual for the medic who was notorious for doing so when sleeping with other people.

For several minutes Athos allowed himself to simply lie there and relish the sight of his brother looking somewhat at peace. Recent events had been trying for the man and Athos knew they were definitely in store for some seriously bad nights in the future and so he had learnt early on to enjoy the good moments when they come.

It was after a few minutes that Athos realized that he and Aramis were alone in the room. The swordsman's brows furrowed in confusion at this, having expected both D'Artagnan and Porthos to be there when they awoke. He would have understood his protégé not being there as he knew the boy was equally as worried for the young stable hand Jacques, who was fighting for his life, but to not even see Porthos was worrying.

With a sigh and small groan of pain Athos began the arduous task of trying to move, fully intent on finding out where his brothers were, he could tell it was beginning to get dark outside and he wanted to make sure they had returned safely.

He had his good leg over the edge of the bed and was in the process of easing his broken one over as well when Aramis began to whimper, either at the loss of contact and warmth or at the shadows in his mind he didn't know but he wasn't going to ruin the last good rest his friend was likely to get in a while by leaving, so with one last longing look at the door Athos settled himself back into the bed, his hand coming up to run through the medic's hair as whispered words of comfort slipped from his lips.

As he felt Aramis settle back into a semi-restful sleep Athos felt the results of his own injuries calling his tired body back to sleep. He fought the call for a while, intent on waiting until someone came to check on them so he could ask about his brothers. Unfortunately his body was still quite weak from everything it had suffered and he felt his traitorous eyes begin to close only moments later, the optimistic part of his mind reassuring him by stating that Treville would have woken them if something were wrong.

Porthos grunted as yet another fist made contact with his already bruised skin, he had lost count of how many punches had been thrown his way since this began, instead focusing on keeping all signs of pain hidden or at the very least minimalized as much as possible from his assailants.

That had been particularly hard to do when, after a series of vicious punches, his shoulder had been popped from its socket. Blinding pain had shot through his body at that and it was the only time during the entire assault that Porthos allowed for his tormentors to see exactly how much pain he was actually in, simply because it was too painful and too much of a shock to his system to hide.

As his attackers took a quick break to rid the splatters of his blood from their fists Porthos snuck a glance at his chained friends. It was a little hard for him to make them out as one of his eyes was completely swollen shut and the other wasn't far off but by some small kindness he was able to make eye contact with them both.

Corbett looked defiant yet tired as he tried to silently reassure the senior musketeer of his wellness despite having endured a similar assault. The musketeer was sporting a large darkening bruise down one side of his face, a split lip that was coating his mouth in blood, a broken and heavily bleeding nose as well as multiple bruises that were beginning to blossom under his clothing.

At one point during the assault Corbett had sustained a barrage of hits on his already damaged ribs that had the musketeer passing out for a few minutes. Whilst this was a cause of great concern for both Porthos and D'Artagnan it did grant their friend a reprieve as both Marcel and his men seemed to instantly lose interest in him when he was unable to give any sort of reaction.

Seeing that his friend was as well as could be expected given what was happening to them Porthos turned his gaze over to D'Artagnan. The young man was looking at him with a fearful and worried expression and it took a few moments for his pain-filled mind to realize that the fear and worry wasn't for his own self-preservation but was for his friends. Porthos felt his heart warming at the thought that after all they had each suffered through D'Artagnan was worried only for them; the lad was definitely musketeer material.

For some reason Marcel had opted to reframe from joining in on the assault so that left only his two henchmen to do his dirty work. Thankfully this meant that their focus was on the musketeers, leaving the Gascon untouched for the moment. Porthos new this was unlikely to last but he was grateful for it nevertheless.

The next time Athos woke the room was covered in darkness and the swordsman couldn't rid himself of the sickening feeling of dread that had settled within his gut.

Sparing his brother a glance Athos noticed he was also waking up so he kept himself still enough not to jostle the man as he woke.

"…'Thos?" came a weak mumble from Aramis's lips as his eyes flickered open. Athos felt pain grip his heart at how exhausted his brother looked despite the sleep he had gotten. The medic's eyes were rimmed red and he had tearstains down his cheeks.

"I'm here," soothed Athos softly as he rubbed circles on the back Aramis's shoulder with his thumb.

"…You stayed…"

Athos blinked a bit in surprise as his grip on the marksman's shoulder tightened subconsciously, "Of course," he nodded, offering his friend a small smile. "I told you, you're not alone. I wont leave you."

Those simple words were almost enough to send a fresh wave of tears streaming down Aramis's face but to the musketeer's credit he was able to blink them back as he tightened his grip on Athos's shirt.

"… How long?" he asked quietly, eager to move the subject away from what it had been on.

Athos eyed the man for a moment, internally debating whether it would do more harm than good to humor his friend and go along with the conversation change or not. With a small sigh he decided to go with it, knowing any addressing of grief and guilt would go down a lot better when the rest of their group was present and they weren't in a dark room. "A while," shrugged the swordsman, "It was still light out when you fell asleep."

Aramis nodded absently, slowly pushing himself away from the warmth of Athos's side to sit up, his grief-filled eyes scanning the dark room, a growing frown pulling at his lips as he did so.

"Aramis?" asked Athos, his mind still slightly muddled by sleep as he tried to work out what had his brother frowning.

Aramis turned to face him, a worried look in his eyes that instantly chased away the last remnants of sleep from the swordsman's mind. "Where are the others? Porthos and D'Art?"

This time it was Athos's turn to frown as it finally clicked why he had woken with a feeling of dread within him. "They went out to get you a change of clothes hours ago," he explained, looking around the small room and seeing no evidence of their brothers' return. "They must be in the main room, maybe Porthos is keeping D'Artagnan company while he watches over Jacques?"

As harsh as it may have seemed neither Athos nor Aramis really believed that Porthos would choose to watch Jacques over his brothers so both men found their worry growing.

"Let's go find out."

It took a few minutes for the pair of them to untangle themselves from the bed sheets and get off the bed. Athos instantly grabbed a crutch to help aid him walk, knowing the last thing he needed to do right now was worry his brother further by trying to limp unaided.

Aramis raised an eyebrow at his friend, "You're supposed to use two, you know that right?" he teased lightly, his smile was strained and didn't quite reach his eyes but Athos took the teasing as a good sign anyway.

"Come on."

As they approached the door they were able to make out faint snippets of what was being said in the other room. They could only make out a couple of voices, one of which was definitely Treville's and only a few fragments of the conversation going on, but it was what they were able to hear that had them flinging open the door in a panicked rage.

"What do you mean they haven't returned!?" snapped Athos as he and Aramis stormed into the room, both of them glaring daggers at the now shocked, surprised and guilty looking men in front of them.

"Athos," said Treville calmly as he took a few steps towards his lieutenant, though Athos was having none of it.

"Treville," growled Athos, his body shaking with barely contained anger. "What is going on?"

Treville sighed, knowing he had no way of keeping it from them any longer. When he had finally returned from the palace an hour ago he was hoping for good news but unfortunately not only had the sweep of the garrison turned up nothing but Porthos's group had also failed to return and no sign of them had been found.

"Captain!" snapped Aramis when he had finally had enough of Treville's hesitance, his voice was harsh, cold and completely unlike anything the musketeers had heard aimed towards one of their own before.

"They haven't returned from when they left earlier," stated Reynard resignedly, knowing the two men in front of him deserved to know.

"What!?" they exclaimed in unison.

"But… but" stammered Aramis as his mind tried to process the information. "But they left hours ago! Why are we only noticing this now?"

Athos was the first of the pair to understand the guilty looks appearing on both his Captain and his brothers-in-arms faces. The swordsman's body went ridged as he fought against the urge to lash out physically at them as he opened his mouth, his words cold and biting. "You knew," he snarled, feeling rather than seeing Aramis coming to the same conclusion beside him. "You knew they were missing and you kept it from us."

Treville sighed and nodded. "You would have ran out in search of them," he offered by way of explanation.

"Damn right we would have!" roared Aramis, his hands clenching into fists as his entire frame shook with rage. "Marcel's out there with a vendetta against musketeers and then they go missing!? Of course we'd go! You had no right to this from us!"

Treville's eyes narrowed. "Neither of you were in any shape to be running through the streets of Paris. I had men searching, it's not like I left them out to dry."

"They're our brothers!" snarled Athos, the one hand that wasn't holding a crutch moving to grip Aramis's elbow tight enough to prevent him from attacking the Captain.

"They're my men!" roared Treville as he stormed closer to the two men. "Their safety is my concern, my job as is yours. I could not in good conscience let the two of you know as I knew how you would react. The rest of the regiment have been searching for the last few hours and have seen no sign of them."

"We're going," snapped Aramis, as he looked to Athos, who nodded, before the pair began to move around the Captain, intent on leaving the infirmary.

"No you're not," ordered Treville, his voice full of command and power that it stopped the two men in their tracks. Before either of them could retort Treville was quick to continue. "It's pitch black out there now. Not only are the streets infinitely more dangerous in the dark but you wont be able to see let alone follow any sort of trail that might have been left so no, no ones going out until first light."

For a minute the musketeers and Treville thought that Athos and Aramis were going to ignore the order and go out anyway but after a few tense minutes full of harsh glares the two men conceded defeat and began to head back to the room they had woken up in.

Just before they entered Athos turned back around to face Treville, who looked beyond exhausted by everything that was going on and to the lieutenant's mild surprise he found he didn't really care. "You should have told us," he said, his voice expressionless as he fought to get his face the same way.

"Athos," sighed Treville but before he could say any more Athos continued.

"We know best how they think," retorted the swordsman. "Porthos would have been in charge and we know what routes he would actively avoid and which he would prefer. D'Artagnan was there so there's every chance they stopped off at the Bonacieux residence –"

"I told them no deviations," dismissed Treville, though his voice didn't come across as confident as he may have liked as he realized he hadn't considered this possibility.

Athos's eyes narrowed. "Constance lives not far from my own apartments and every instinct in that boy would be crying out to warn her of the possibility of Marcel being loose in the city. You really think he couldn't convince Porthos to take the slight detour?"

Treville was silent as he took in the information, feeling slightly stupid at not having realized this before.

"We're going tomorrow, don't think about stopping us," Athos declared coldly before he followed Aramis back into the room, slamming the door behind them.

D'Artagnan's eyes screwed shut in pain as a slightly muffled scream of pain tore its way through his clenched teeth. For the last hour or so Marcel had instructed his men to increase the pain they were causing and D'Artagnan didn't know how much longer he could hang on until he passed out.

He knew Porthos was already unconscious, having borne the brunt of the men's sadistic assault. The larger musketeers' limp form was worrying for the Gascon but he had had little time to contemplate or panic over it before the men moved on to him.

Corbett had tried to get the attention away from the younger man and onto himself but he was barely conscious himself and the constant damage to his ribs was making it increasingly difficult for the man to breathe. So, in an effort to protect the man from further harm D'Artagnan had thrown every insult and slur he could think of at the men.

For a split second he was relieved to see it had worked and the men were now ignoring Corbett's attempts and heading his way. It was only when they started on him that he realized the giant flaw in his plan as furious men were much more vindictive.

"I think that's enough for now gents," smirked Marcel as he casually observed the damage done to the men. "Gather what we need and get it delivered to Captain Treville at first light."

D'Artagnan's eyes widened in fear as the men once again began to move closer to him but he was in too much pain and was too weak to offer up any sort of fight.

"Captain Treville?" called a voice, pulling the musketeer's focus away from where he was instructing his men on the search plan for the day. The night had been incredibly tense for his men and was only made worse come the morning when Aramis and Athos emerged from their room without sparing himself or any of the other musketeers a single glance before collecting their gear and heading out to the courtyard.

"Yes, can I help you?" he asked, his eyebrows rising slightly in surprise as he noticed the voice began to a young boy, who looked to be not even in his teens, carrying a box in his arms.

"I was paid to give this to you," replied the boy as he passed the Captain the box before grinning proudly at himself for a job well done as he skipped off back to wherever he had come from.

Treville blinked in surprise at the sudden departure before moving to open the box, not missing the way Aramis and Athos moved to also see what the box contained.

Mere moments after the box was opened Treville was sent flying to the ground thanks to a swift and powerful punch to the jaw from a beyond furious Athos.

The musketeer stood stock still for several moments as he panted heavily, Aramis's hand on his arm being the only thing stopping him from attacking the Captain further.

"Come on," whispered Aramis, not caring to hide the anger in his voice, "We need to go."

Without another word both musketeers stormed out of the garrison, leaving the remaining men to help their Captain back up and stare wide-eyed at the items that had fallen out of the box.

One familiar leather jacket and two pauldrons, each covered in blood.