Evening My Lovelies!

We've got a fair amount of stuff going on with this chapter. I've done my best to split it up so it makes sense but feel free to ask questions if its confusing :)

Notes On Reviews:

Deana: Thanks for the review - Yay I'm glad you were eager, hope it didn't disappoint :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

watlocked: Thanks for the review - :D I'm really happy you loved the chapter. I'm also happy you liked the scissor moment. I wanted to show how Porthos is still suffering because of what happened, even if he's not as physically injured as D'Art. D'Art's my favourite too, he's not playing an vital role in today's chapter but he's mentioned occasionally, I have a cute comfort moment planned for tomorrow though that he'll be taking part in. You definitely are remembering correctly and Moreau will be having a rant, though that will be coming tomorrow once the medic's been taken care of a bit more first. Enjoy the new chapter! x

pallysdeeks: Thanks for the review - I'm sure he'd have no complaints about that... just be gentle :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

lizard1969: Thanks for the review - Glad you liked it :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

criminally charmed: Thanks for the review - I think Durand might have gotten off quite lightly but I have another scene with him planned to come soon so hopefully you wont be too disappointed. Haha glad you're seeing the upside of Aramis collapsing :) Enjoy the new chapter! x

f1gymnast: Thanks for the review - Unfortunately for our two boys they are still suffering mentally from their capture and torture... they'll get better in time though. I'm sure Athos will be forcing pain draughts down Aramis's throat before too long lol D'Art feels pretty guilty but Aramis will set him straight when he's a bit better. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Debbie (Guest): Thanks for the review - Haha yeah that's true though I think if I keep up with the whumpage it would actually happen. You're right about Aramis's leg having been treated before. Athos handled it once it happened. But I figured that I could still get infected even if it had been properly cleaned and stuff. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Issai: Thanks for the review - It was the same knee, something our resident doctor will be including when he launches into his rant at the man tomorrow :) Ask and ye shall receive my friend :) Hopefully you like the approach I've taken with his nightmare :D In all fairness I think just about anything would be lethal in Porthos's hands *shrugs* Worry not Aramis and the others will put that guilt to rest fairly quickly when he's feeling better. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Maryg (Guest): Thanks for the review - I know! I couldn't resist *sighs and puts head in hands* I think I may have a problem lol :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

MicheeO: Thanks for the review - Yeah he's not too bad, I reigned in my evil mind as much as I could. Enjoy the new chapter! x

Lilac Lavender: Thanks for the review - Unfortunately for our boys Porthos and the Pup are suffering mentally (as well as physically) from their capture. As Athos wasn't captured he was able to think a bit clear which is why he wasnt as affected by the noise and could logically realize that the garrison was too full of activity for it to be an attack. Aramis's condition was definitely a shock for a boys, as is he reactions today :D Lots of guilt going around that I'm going to have to deal with very soon... should be fun :D Enjoy the new chapter! x

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

Love you all!

Enjoy!

xxx

Chapter Ninety-Two: Treating The Medic

Resetting Aramis's dislocated knee was a trial for all involved as the medic fought against the pain as soon as the damaged joint was touched. Porthos and Athos struggled to hold down the thrashing sharpshooter given the stress it put on their own injuries.

"Easy 'Mis," soothed Porthos as he tightened his grip on his brother's arms, his grip had momentarily slipped before and the thrashing medic had almost smacked a barely conscious D'Artagnan right in the face.

"Have you got him?" asked Moreau as he prepared to reset the joint; thankfully as he had been called near immediately after the accident happened it meant that the joint hadn't had time to swell yet, hopefully making the procedure somewhat less painful for the musketeer.

Once the remaining men in the room, minus D'Artagnan who was too focused on trying to stay awake and not moving to be of any help, had stated that they were Moreau wasted no time in forcing the joint back into its socket, the musketeers flinching slightly at the scream of pain that tore from Aramis's throat, despite him still being unconscious.

Porthos, having known the effects such a scream would have on D'Artagnan, as they affected him the same, instantly dropped one of his hands that were restraining his brother so he could reach over and gently run his fingers through the, once again, trembling Gascon, keeping them there until the shaking stopped.

Luckily if anyone else noticed their reaction they were kind enough to remain silent, allowing the two men to calm each other down whilst the rest of them prepared for the next step of Aramis's treatment.

"Sir?" asked Athos warily, having noticed Moreau staring hard at Aramis's chest.

"I would like to bandage his ribs, to prevent them from getting damaged further," explained Moreau, his fingers reaching out to lightly prod the marksman's ribs and the areas surrounding them, listening keenly for any signs of distress or pain.

"But?"

"But I imagine he'll bruise quite badly, I would prefer not to put added pressure on them by binding his ribs until I have a full picture of how badly bruised he is."

Athos nodded, it made sense to him and he was glad they weren't going to subject his brother to more pain then he needed.

Once that decision had been made Moreau set to work prepping to handle the infection in Aramis's leg. He had instructed Reynard to return to his duties but to inform Treville of what was going on. The musketeer looked reluctant to leave in case he was needed but multiple assurances from nearly everyone in the room that they would call should they need help eventually had him leaving.

"Who handled this stitch work?" asked Moreau as he inspected the needlework performed on the leg.

"I did," answered Athos, sinking into a chair by the bed as he felt his injured leg begin to shake despite the swordsman ensuring all of his weight was on his other limb.

"Huh," remarked Moreau as he tilted the leg to get a better view, "You have steady hands monsieur and providing we can get control of this infection, you likely saved his leg."

Athos stiffened at his words, guilt brewing within him, "I was careful with cleansing the wound," he stressed, his voice thick with emotion. "I made sure all the splinters were removed before I stitched anything."

Moreau blinked, "My apologies musketeer, please don't think I'm blaming you. I have no doubt you did everything you could for your friend. I very much doubt carelessness on your part caused this."

"Then what did?" grunted Porthos; his hand coming up to rub his recently reset shoulder. Fighting against a thrashing Aramis had left the tender joint throbbing and it was becoming harder to think clearly through the fog of pain from his numerous injuries.

"Hard to say right now, let's just focus on clearing it out."

With that Moreau began calling out for supplies. What was about to happen wasn't going to be pleasant for any in the room but mostly for the unconscious, yet clearly dreaming medic.

"He may fight me on this," stated Moreau as he prepared to drain the infected wound. Both musketeers nodded sharply, returning to their early positions.

"Durand," stated Treville coldly as he moved to enter the tiny room they had locked the musketeer in. With everything that had happened he had honestly forgot about the man but he knew he couldn't put off what needed to happen forever.

"C-Captain," gulped the musketeer. He was sober now and, if his paleness was any indication, scared of what was to come.

"You're aware of why I'm here?"

"…Of course."

Treville sighed, he hated having to punish one of his own men but considering the man's actions had nearly cost him one of the regiment's finest he knew it had to be done.

"Under the laws our regiment is subjected to I am unable to fire you for what you did."

Durand looked up at this, shock and hope warring for dominance in his eyes. "…W-What?"

"As you did not directly fire the gun that almost killed Athos," explained Treville, making sure to stress the word killed. "The most I can hold you accountable for is leaving your post and drinking while on duty… The punishment for that is one month's suspension, unpaid and two weeks stable duty should you return."

Durand found his hope fading, "should sir?"

Treville sighed again. "What your actions and loose tongue almost helped happen does not and will not sit well with the rest of the regiment," explained the Captain, not missing the wince that his words produced from the man. "Nearly everyone who travelled with us have already come to me stating they will not serve with you and those that might be willing will never trust you to watch their backs."

"But I – "

"You abandoned your post," stressed Treville with anger in his voice, not caring he had just interrupted the man. "Even if Athos hadn't been hurt out of it, you left us without someone on watch while we were in hostile territory. You endangered the lives of the entire camp with your actions and that's not counting the fact that had someone attacked we would have been down a fighter as you were too drunk of your face to have been any help."

Durand winced, paling further as he seemed to finally understand what his actions could have done. He still didn't think himself responsible for Athos's shooting. They had never been expressly forbidden from talking about the events surrounding Marsac's death, was it so wrong of him to assume the guy's sister had known how he had died?

"What do I do then?" sighed Durand as he realized life at the garrison was about to get extremely difficult for him. If a significant portion of the men refused to work with him then it left him either begrudgingly working with those somewhat willing to have him there or it left him handling all the solo missions, which, were annoying to say the least.

"That, is entirely up to you," said Treville, his voice and expression cold as he stared down the man. He was about to say more when the door opened and a harried looking Reynard entered.

Treville's eyebrows rose in question upon noticing the thin gash running across his face. Before he could verbally question it however Reynard was by his side, whispering in his ear.

Durand watched with hesitant curiosity as Treville's eyes widened and the two of them began talking in hushed whispers. Before he could let his curiosity get the better of him though Treville had all but stormed out of the room, Reynard following him moments later, leaving him alone once again, only for much more to consider this time.

"I trusted you," spat a voice with such venom it made him flinch, though it was the sight that greeted him when he turned to face the owner of the voice that had his stomach turning.

There, in the blood soaked dress he had last seen her in was Vivienne. Her skin was deathly pale and there was a blood trail from the corner of her mouth that stained her skin.

"V-Vi," choked Aramis, tears building in his eyes as he watched her circle him.

"DON'T" spat the woman. "I would still be alive if it wasn't for you! Meeting you was like signing my own death warrant, every thing that happened was your fault!"

"No!" protested Aramis; though it was weak as each of her accusations hit him like a punch to the gut. "I tried!" he stressed, a few traitorous tears escaping and flowing down his cheeks. "I did everything I could to save you."

"Save me?" laughed Vivienne, though it was dark and full of bitterness. "You practically put me to the blade yourself! … In fact"

To Aramis surprise Vivienne was suddenly directly in front of him and he could feel his hand unconsciously tightening its grip on a blade he was sure he hadn't had a moment ago.

"ARAMIS!" called Porthos and Athos worriedly. The medic was clearly in the throws of a painful nightmare if the whimpers escaping their friend were any indication.

Moreau had been forced to stop working when the man's thrashing became too much, however he had been able to completely drain the wound by that point and had been about to start re-stitching the cuts. It was possible, and if he was being honest, likely, that they would need to be opened again in a day or two to repeat the draining process but after seeing what the musketeers had been through and survived the doctor had decided to remain optimistic.

"What the hell's going on!?" demanded Treville as he stormed into the room, his eyes immediately falling on the thrashing medic and the men attempting to comfort him.

"Come Treville," said Moreau as he rose to his feet, "Let's leave them to it and I'll give you my report." As they started to leave Moreau added, "I'll be back shortly to finish up."

Athos looked up from where he was trying to comfort his brother and nodded gratefully at the doctor; infinitely glad their brother wouldn't have an audience for this.

"ARAMIS!" they called again, the pair of them sharing uneasy looks.

"You know," mused the spectral version of Vivienne as she glared daggers at the wide-eyed medic. "I bet Marsac would still be alive if he hadn't met you as well."

Aramis practically felt his heart stop at this, it was something he had thought of, generally in his dark moments, but the thought was there and to hear it from someone else, even if that someone was a figment of his subconscious, it was like someone hit him hard enough to knock the air right out of him.

"I only went to Savoy because you asked me to remember?" snarled another, painfully familiar voice.

"…Marsac," breathed Aramis, his eyes locking on to the blood stain on the ghost's shirt that spoke of the killing blow.

Marsac seemed to notice this as his face contorted into a sneer. "Admiring your handiwork?"

"What?" blinked Aramis, his voice shaking as he tried to compose himself. "No!" he denied vehemently, "I –"

"I came to you for help," spat Marsac, seemingly having decided to ignore the medic. "I had a way to prove what really happened… To get justice for those who died needlessly and yet after everything we learnt you still betrayed me for him!"

"Marsac," pleaded Aramis, tears now freely flowing down his cheeks.

"Marsac," murmured Aramis, his voice slightly slurred as he was still unconscious but it was enough for the musketeers to make out, both musketeers cursing at the name and strengthening their attempts to reach their brother.

"ARAMIS!"

"ARAMIS!"

The shout of his name startled the tortured medic from where he had been trying to plead with the ghost or figment of his old friend.

"Tell me Aramis," sneered Marsac, "How long until your new friends meet the same fate as us? How long until they bleed to death in your arms because of your actions?"

"Stop," whispered Aramis brokenly, the back of his hands coming to press against his forehead, the marksman completely missing the fact that the blade had somehow transformed into a pistol.

"Stop?" laughed Marsac, "Afraid of the truth are we? It matters not, you can hide from it all you like but the end result will always be the same… Those you love will all die because of you!"

"NO!" screamed Aramis, his body jerking suddenly to face the ghost. Aramis didn't even realize his arm had moved until it was too late and the eerie silence was shattered by the sound of gunfire.

The marksman's eyes widened in horror as he watch blood pour from the wound that had killed the real Marsac.

"No…" breathed Aramis, his voice shaking so bad it was a miracle it was even audible

The silence was broken once again moments later by the sound of a slow applause coming from his other side.

"Twice you've murdered the same man," remarked Vivienne, her eyes burning in anger. "What would your precious brothers say if they knew they were friends with such a ruthless man?"

"ENOUGH!" roared Aramis, his hand once again moving of its own accord as the pistol shifted into a blade mere moments before it was plunged deeply into the woman's stomach making her stumble back with a cold smirk as blood poured out of her wound.

"NO!" screamed Aramis, tearing himself out of the grip of his brothers as his body bolted into an upright position, chest heaving and tears streaming down his face as visible tremors begun to attack his body.