A/N: I had not expected to fall into this fandom, but what started with a drabble led to a ficlet and that led to a one shot...and now I have a collection. I really love these guys. Especially Aramis. Which means he is likely to bear the brunt of some whump if I continue to write more...

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"On Three"

Getting shot with a crossbow bolt bloody hurt. Aramis lay on the ground, trying to catch his breath. The impact had knocked him from his horse to boot.

Porthos dropped down beside him and reached for his uninjured shoulder, jaw tight and dark eyes worried as he surveyed the shaft protruding from the other one. Athos appeared a moment later, kneeling on Aramis's other side.

"Did you get him?" Aramis gritted out.

"Yes." Athos's tone implied they would not be asking questions as to why they'd been attacked on the road. Bandits, mercenaries, it didn't really matter.

"We need to pull the arrow out," Porthos said unnecessarily.

"So we must," Aramis agreed, thunking his head back against the ground as he steeled himself for it. He could feel the arrowhead scraping against the scapula and knew it would hurt worse coming out than it had going in. "On three."

Porthos wrapped a large hand around the shaft, close to the entry wound.

Aramis drew in a shaky breath. "One…"

"Three." Porthos yanked straight up, and Aramis couldn't keep from crying out as searing fire ripped through his shoulder.

"What…happened…to…two?" he gasped out accusingly between pained breaths.

"Was'na you that said anticipation makes it worse?"

"You have said that," Athos put in mildly, pulling some bandages from a saddle bag.

Aramis glowered at them. "Well, it's rubbish."

Porthos merely grinned as he helped Athos wrap the wounded shoulder tightly to staunch the bleeding until they could find a safer place to stop and tend to it. Then they slipped their arms beneath him and carefully pulled him upright. Aramis grimaced as the movement jostled his shoulder and made his head spin. Porthos and Athos finished by securing his arm in a sling.

"Can you stand?" Athos asked.

"With a little help."

His brothers exchanged resolute looks before shifting their weight to take up a ready position.

"On three?" Porthos said.

"Have you remembered the proper way to count in the last few minutes?" Aramis snarked.

"I can count just fine."

"I'll count," Athos interjected, his tone as placid as ever and only the words themselves indicating his impatience to leave.

Aramis was keen to get out of there as well, and so took a deep breath as he felt his friends take a firm hold of him. His strength was swiftly waning, but together, he had confidence they would manage.

"One, two, three."