Athos stood in front of the grave, alone, with a half-empty bottle of wine in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other.
Athos did not stand before the grave of his mother, brother, or father; he was standing in front of his best friend's grave. The grave belonged to D'Artagnan.
Athos felt his legs tremble gently as he read over his friend's name written large and proud on the grave. Athos took another sip of his wine. He swallowed back his tears and then finally looked around where he was.
Athos was in D'Artagnan's old home, now completely abandoned. The house in front of which his grave was located was completely dilapidated and the roof had been burned down. There was already a forest behind the house, trees moving in the strong wind. Athos realized it was time to get back to Paris before it got dark. He put the flowers on the grave, finished the wine and went to his horse, who was calmly eating grass. His horse sounded displeased when Athos untied the rope from the tree and climbed on. Then, he drove to Paris.
When Athos reached the forest, it was pitch dark and it was raining gently outside. Athos decided to stay in the forest for the night and jumped off his horse onto the wet ground. Suddenly he remembered that he had brought a candle with him, which he forgot to put on D'Artagnan's grave. He could barely see what was in his bag, but he was able to find the candle. He lit a candle and showed it around. He was in a small clearing, a few hundred meters from the road. He tied his horse to the nearest tree and began looking for wood to burn for the fire. He found some quite close and dropped them in the middle of the clearing to be away from the trees and not start a fire. He used the fire of his candle and when the fire started to burn with a big flame, he put out the candle. By this time, the gentle rain had also stopped.
Suddenly, Athos heard the snapping of a branch nearby. He assumed it was some small animal like a rabbit or a mouse. He was not familiar with the animals of this forest. However, he thought it might be a human and he stood up from his sitting position and grabbed his sword. He circled the fire like a hungry wolf at his meal and looked around for the sound, then there was another crack and he froze.
"Stupid branch!" A voice swore. "I'm trying to surprise him…it's been two years after all."
Athos blinked. What did he just say? Two years? He shook his head and stepped closer to the voice and pointed the sword to the void.
"Come out whoever you are!" Athos shouted to the void.
"Fine. Fine." The voice answered calmly. A young man with a familiar face stepped out from behind a bush with his hands up. He had a slight smile on his face when he saw Athos. "Don't stab me." He pointed at the sword and Athos lowered it.
"Who are you?" Athos demanded, still confused as he looked at the lad.
"You really don't know me?" The man raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Like…seriously?"
"Never seen you in my life…I think." Athos eyed the man. "You do look a bit familiar to one of my friends I lost." He added. "But why did you want to surprise me?"
"Because it's me!" The man cried.
"You can't be him." Athos crossed his arms. "He's dead."
"But what if he faked his death?" The man guessed, spreading his arms.
"No…" Athos froze. "He died in my arms. He can't be…"
"What? Me?"
"Well, yeah?" Athos shrugged.
"I may have changed my hair, but it's still me." The man shook his head. "Hit me." He pointed at his cheek. "C'mon, don't be shy."
"Why should I hit you?" Athos asked.
"To know if I'm alive or not?" The man shrugged helplessly.
"You can be alive, but it doesn't mean that you're D'Artagnan." Athos blinked at the boy.
The man sighed. "Please, I deserve it. My wife is going to hate me."
"Fine, but don't start complaining, you started it." Athos gave up and hit him very hard on his cheek, making the man groan in pain.
"Yeah." He muttered, smoothing his cheek. "I deserved it."
"But who are you?" Athos asked.
"You want to know my whole story?"
"We have all night." Athos showed him the place where he could sit. The man sat down comfortably and stared at the big, warm fire.
"Do you remember when the young boy rushed into Garrison to avoid killing the man who allegedly killed his father?" The man started his story. Athos nodded. "It was me."
"Y-You're D'Artagnan?" Athos managed.
"Yes." D'Artagnan nodded. "hi."
"Why did you do this?" Athos asked, feeling an angry tear in his eye. "For what reason?"
"I was to go on a secret mission to Spain, under Treville's orders." D'Artagnan replied softly. "I'm sorry, but I had to do this alone." D'Artagnan winced and looked down at his chest. "God not now." Athos heard him mutter.
"What is it?" Athos asked.
"Well," D'Artagnan shrugged. "Before I— got here, I got…" D'Artagnan raised his shirt a bit and Athos froze when he saw blood. "Stabbed."
"Oh god." Athos hurried up to help D'Artagnan. "Why didn't you —"
"Tell you?" D'Artagnan groaned as Athos checked the wound. "You didn't believe that it was me."
"I hit you!" Athos cried, panic rising. He cannot lose him again. He can't lose him for another two years.
"I deserved it." D'Artagnan shrugged and flinched when Athos covered the wound with his cloak.
"I need to get you to the garrison." Athos said as he looked around."How old is the wound?"
"A few hours old." D'Artagnan shrugged. "I don't know, it was daylight when I got stabbed…and now it's… dark."
"Aramis will kill you when you get there." Athos warned him. "He blames himself for not being able to save you … but hold on…if you faked your death…then who did we bury?" He suddenly remembered.
"My already dead twin brother." D'Artagnan froze. "Sorry, we switched places before you found me…well my dead brother."
"Your…twin brother?" Athos raised his eyebrow.
"Yep."
"But how did you—" Athos was still confused.
"Well, when Treville informed me of his plan, I went to visit my aunt and asked about my brother if I could borrow him for this mission." D'Artagnan replied. "She didn't agree at first, of course, but after a lot of persuasion we managed to get my twin's body and it worked."
Athos stared blankly at him. "I cried over your twin's already dead body.."
"Well, I'm honored." D'Artagnan managed a weak smile and then hissed at the sudden pain.
"Try to get some sleep, we'll start moving at first light." Athos sighed and threw another branch to the fire and the fire cracked in welcome.
D'Artagnan nodded and laid down next to the fire. He stared at the dark cloudy sky. Then, his eyes closed and he fell into sweet dreams.
"Athos—"
Athos stared at the woman whose hair was black as the dark night sky. Athos stared at her. She walked closer to him with a flirty smile and looked back at him.
"What's bothering you?" She asked as she danced slowly around him.
"Y-You're alive." Athos shook his head. "How is this possible?"
"You didn't watch me die completely." She replied softly. "I survived."
"Who saved you?" Athos wanted to know.
Athos woke up with a start. She's alive, too. He remembered. He closed his eyes to get the picture back of her, but he was only welcomed by darkness.
He opened them again and stared at the sleeping body next to him. D'Artagnan - the boy who faked his death…
"D'Artagnan?" He called. D'Artagnan didn't even wince. "Wake up, we have to go now."
When he got no answer he started to get worried. He pushed his blankets off him and went to D'Artagnan's side. The boy was cold as ice. He had lost too much blood, his cloak wasn't enough for him. He can't lose him this time. He quickly packed his stuff and managed to carry D'Artagnan to his horse. He hoped that D'Artagnan didn't switch bodies Athos mounted the horse himself, he untied the rope from the tree and then he jumped onto the horse, hoping that D'Artagnan would not fall off. So he spurred his horse and sped towards Paris, fear in his eyes.
Aramis saw when Athos' horse arrived at the garrison. Aramis had just left Treville's office and was now cleaning his own weapon. He got up and noticed that there was someone else on Athos' horse.
"Athos!" He cried. "How did it go?"
"Well," Athos replied. "It all went well until I met with D'Artagnan, who never died."
"What?" Aramis cried. "But he—"
"Long story." Athos jumped off his horse. "I need a bit of help here. D'Artagnan got stabbed and he has lost too much blood."
"But—" Aramis stared at the body. "How is this—"
"Will you help him or not? We can't lose him again!" Athos challenged. Aramis winced and hurried over to help him down.
They took him to the infirmary and laid him on the bed. Aramis decided to get a doctor. He left Athos alone with D'Artagnan who was unconscious.
"Why don't you wake up?" Athos whispered softly as he looked at him blankly. "Please, wake up and show a living sign. They won't believe me otherwise."
As he said this, Aramis rushed into the room with the doctor and Treville, whose face turned white when he saw the patient.
"D'Artagnan?" Treville whispered. "He was in spain for two whole years…I thought he—"
"You knew about this?" Aramis asked, not sounding happy.
"Yes." Treville replied, looking down at his feet. "And I'm sorry for not telling you."
"Apology accepted." Aramis smiled weakly. "But I call Porthos here and you have to tell the whole story."
"D'Artagnan also has to, I want to know what happened in Spain that took him so long." Treville eyed D'Artagnan. "How is he?"
"His state is bad, but he'll survive." Lemay answered. "We need to give him some blood. He has lost too much of it."
"I'll give some." Aramis told him. "I failed to save him last time, I will save him this time."
"You tried to save his already dead twin brother's body." Treville sighed. "That's why it was impossible to save him."
"D'Artagnan, you bastard." Aramis muttered. "How are we going to tell Constance? D'Artagnan doesn't know what mess he has gotten into himself."
"True," Athos sighed. "But D'Artagnan will tell her himself."
"I'll get Porthos," Treville rose from his chair. "good luck."
Lemay came back with a large syringe and Aramis stuck out his hand, pulling up the supply. He closed his eyes and felt a slight pain as if a bee had thought of him. Then he opened his eyes when the pain stopped and saw that Lemay had a syringe full of blood. At this, Aramis lost consciousness and heard his name being called. Aramis!
Aramis woke up in bed this time and he felt light on his head. He opened his eyes and suddenly a familiar face appeared.
"Good evening, Aramis." The voice welcomed him and Aramis rose up and leant against the pillow on his back. "How are you feeling?"
"Not bad." Aramis replied. "Can I have some water?" He asked. Porthos nodded. He took a few sips and put the mug back on the table.
"Did you see him too?" Aramis asked after a minute of silence.
"I did." Porthos sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "I can't believe he faked it for us."
"How is he now?"
"Better than before." Porthos smiled hopefully. "He'll live, thanks to you."
"I hope so." Aramis looked down. "It was good that Athos found him."
"Yeah, but I really want to know the real story." Porthos said.
"I think we'll hear it soon enough." Aramis muttered and got out of his bed, but Porthos pushed him back.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Porthos warned. "You need to rest."
"I want to see him." Aramis shook his head in disagreement. "Then I'll rest."
"He's fine, Athos is with him." Porthos argued.
"Has he eaten…or slept?" Aramis asked.
"He ate a little, he won't leave him alone again." Porthos replied. "Get some rest, I'll keep my eye on them, I promise."
"You do?" Aramis looked up at him
Porthos nodded. "We can even make a pinky promise if you don't believe me." He raised his small finger with a childish smile.
Aramis shook his head. "I can believe you without pinky promises, thanks." He laid down. "G'night then." He said sleepily and a second later Porhos heard light snoring from the bed and he smiled.
D'Artagnan felt…weird, when he woke. Of course he felt weird when he got stabbed. He had no idea where he was. Because the last thing he remembered was Athos' angry and shocked face. He only now regretted that he had faked his own death. It had been a stupid idea.
He opened his eyes and was greeted by a gentle candlelight at the edge of his eye. Was he home? Why did Athos carry him home? D'Artagnan should have been left dead…real, this time.
"Hey, buddy." A voice said. D'Artagnan swore he heard a voice break through the voice. "You're finally up, can you recognize me?"
D'Artagnan tried to make his vision clear. The blurry figure in front of him came clear and D'Artagnan was facing a familiar man.
" 'thos?" He managed. "hi."
"Hi." Athos replied. "Don't move, you need to stay still."
D'Artagnan groaned at the pain and sighed. "I owe you all an apology."
"That you do." Athos agreed. "Especially for Constance."
"Ouch." D'Artagnan winced. "How is she doing?"
"Not great." Athos told him. "We still haven't told her about you."
"Are you saying that— I have to tell her myself?" D'Artagnan froze. "But she'll kill me!"
"You got yourself into this mess," Athos shrugged. "You must speak."
"I regret doing it, I swear." D'Artagnan pleaded. "Please! I can't tell her! Not when I'm like this!"
"I'll give you some time to heal." Athos sighed, annoyed to hear his friend complain. "When you're fully healed, you will tell her. And if you don't I wil force you!"
"Alright, Alright!" D'Artagnan gave up. "I'll tell her." He promised.
"D'Artagnan!" Someone shouted. They turned around. It was Constance with Porthos behind who stood there awkwardly. "YOU ARE SO DAMNED RIGHT NOW!" She yelled and grabbed a nearest knife. Athos stood up quickly and stepped in front of his friend, arms spreaded out.
"He just woke up from getting stabbed, he'll explain why he did it!" Athos said calmly. "Put the knife down." He nodded at the knife i Constance's hand. Constance shook his head and wanted to push him away.
"Why?" She challenged D'Artagnan who looked like a frozen statue as he stared at Constance. "Why did you do it?"
D'Artagnan opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"For a secret Spanish mission." Athos helped his friend, giving him a glare. "Treville knows about this too."
"He does, huh?" Constance stepped a strong step back. "Why didn't we know?"
"It was supposed to be a secret!" D'Artagnan finally managed to say. "I'm sorry!"
"Alright,—" Constance exhaled a breath. "But you have to explain it all."
D'Artagnan sighed. "Aramis and Porthos deserve to know too." He said. Athos nodded in understanding and they went to Aramis' bed. Meanwhile, Aramis had woken up and was talking to Porthos. D'Artagnan took a seat and began to explain the whole story of what had happened two years before and between the two years.