Wolves May Come
Hello Dear Readers! I'm back with an other multi-chapter story. This one is thirty one chapters long and is a modern AU. It's already written and I will post, as usual, every other day. I hope you enjoy it.
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CHAPTER ONE
"Shoot, Aramis!"
From his place on the gangway beneath Aramis, Athos took a step onto the metal staircase, gripping the rail hard.
Aramis had his rifle sight trained on the figure on the ground floor of the warehouse, on the verge of opening the door of what looked like an office.
But he did not shoot. He hesitated.
As Athos began to run up the stairs toward him, all Hell broke loose.
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Athos woke in a sitting position, in a tent. A clear, plastic tent.
At first, he was confused and raised his right hand to touch the material. That set off a barrage of pain, not least in his chest and he struggled to breathe.
Everything hurt. The muscles in his neck, his shoulders, his legs. Even his feet hurt. He vaguely remembered being airborne, tensing, waiting for impact. When it came, the air left his scorched lungs and he rolled, aware he was not alone. Aramis was next to him.
"Take it easy," a voice said, bringing him back to the present. The shape was hazy but the voice was very familiar.
Treville.
"You've been here for four days, and you'll be here for a few more. I don't know how you got out of there, but you didn't get out unscathed.
"Aramis?" Athos whispered urgently, looking around.
"Down the corridor. Same as you," Treville replied. A man of few words. Perhaps he was sparing him from speaking. He had only said one word and his throat felt raw. He was proved wrong when Treville pulled up a chair and sat next to him. Now he could see his face. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.
"How do you feel?" his boss asked, pinning him with that no-bullshit stare of his.
For a moment, Athos could not answer. Treville poured him out a glass of water and dropped a glass straw into it. Unzipping the tent, he passed it through. Athos raised a shaking hand and took it, raising it tentatively to his lips. God, the cool water felt good at it slipped down his sore throat. Four days and it was still sore? That wasn't good.
"You've had an intubation tube in to help you breathe, your throat will improve. Then the oxygen tent has been helping with your oxygen levels. At least, that's how they explained it to me. Like I'm an idiot," Treville said, with a quick quirk of his lips.
Athos reciprocated and finally, he gave his Captain an answer, by asking a question. "How bad?"
"Bad enough," Treville replied. "Your knee was dislocated, and I've never seen such spectacular bruises. You did well not to break any bones. You both had head injuries but the doctors are no longer too worried about that.
"Aramis?" Athos demanded, pushing himself up on his elbows.
"He's alright," Treville reassured him. "You were lucky. I don't know how you got out," he said again.
"We got out on sheer adrenaline," Athos said, his memories beginning to come. "I pulled Aramis off the metal gangway. I remember us both falling, boxes breaking our fall, but we landed heavily. We were both out for a few seconds. I watched the flames roll toward us across the ceiling. It was like a … magnificent magic carpet. Aramis wasn't moving. I thought I'd killed him. But then I couldn't breathe. I pulled him up, my vision blurred and this incredible pain kicked in in my leg. I thought I'd killed him," he said again.
Treville sat back and sighed, flipping his hand toward Athos, his order for him to carry on sipping the water. Athos abstained, fixing his boss with a determined glare.
"It was an ambush," he said. "We were set up."
"It would seem so," Treville replied. "The boxes were all either empty, or contained packaging, judging by forensics. By the time we got there the whole warehouse was ablaze. I thought you were both gone. Porthos found you, at the side of the building. Pulled you both away before the roof collapsed. There wasn't much left."
"I don't remember getting out. And Rand?"
"She's dead. Not much left to determine."
"And her men?" Athos persisted, his voice hoarse. He took a sip and tried not to cough.
"Three bodies in total, again, impossible to identify. How many were there?"
"At least six," Athos murmured.
Treville sat in thought for a few moments. He had had sleepless nights waiting for a forensic report on those bodies, the only relief was that two of his best men were not among them.
"Who set the fire?" he asked, almost to himself.
"I don't know," Athos replied. "I saw the smoke coming from under the office door and then Rand ran along the wall and opened it. And all Hell broke loose."
"Do you think she knew what would happen?"
"She must have," Athos said, before the action of clearing his throat led to a fit of painful coughing. He wiped his streaming eyes with the back of his hand and laid back heavily against his bank of pillows, his chest heaving from the effort. "The fire must have been smouldering for a while. She was waiting for us."
Treville waited him out, his eyes squinting in sympathy.
"Perhaps she misjudged it; under-estimated the consequence, oxygen plus fire, etc." Athos managed, before pressing a palm on his chest in an attempt to alleviate the tightness.
Treville unclipped an oxygen mast from the tank next to the bed and passed it through to him. "Breathe," he ordered.
Athos took hold of the mask and Treville covered his hand with his own. "Don't fight me on this," he said, tersely. Athos nodded and laid back against his pillows taking shallow, but steady breaths.
"Aramis is in the same state," Treville offered. "You'll both need time to recover."
Athos raised his eyebrows above the mask and Treville held his gaze.
"So I'm sending you both to Switzerland. Three weeks, Athos, and then, if you are fit, light duties. Dannika Rand wanted you both dead. I believe she expected I would send more Musketeers to take down her operation."
Athos pulled the mask down. "She wanted The Musketeers gone."
"Yes," Treville replied. "She was a dangerous woman, but she is gone now. We just need to be vigilant with regard to her associates."
"Aramis hesitated," Athos said then.
"Carry on," Treville said, with a frown.
"He had her was in his sights. I told him to fire, before she opened the door."
"What happened?"
"I don't know," Athos said. "I had to tell him twice, but then she opened the door and … that was that."
"Well," Treville said, rubbing a hand on his stubbled chin. "One way or another, she's dead. But if what you say is true, it cannot go without an investigation. In the meantime, do as you are told here and I will see you both in my office when you are discharged. You can find out what happened with Aramis when you are in Switzerland."
"Switzerland?"
"Yes. To a facility that specialises in recuperation," Treville replied. "I'll give you the details when you're discharged.
"Switzerland." Athos said again, already feeling a mixture of anger at Aramis and guilt at his own accusation. It was true though, procedure decreed an investigation was necessary into Aramis's hesitation and the whole subsequent debacle. "You're sending us away from Paris?"
"This has to work, Athos," Treville replied. "I want you both fit. You are two of my best men. Porthos will hold the fort until you both return. Dr Kramer will report to me during the three weeks you are there, and if he has any trouble with you both, you will be suspended. This is important, Athos and if you value your positions in The Musketeers, you will obey orders and get yourselves fit. And if you haven't noticed, you have a badly burnt hand."
Athos frowned and raised his left hand. It was swathed in thick bandages.
Athos opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. His body had betrayed him once during this discussion and he had no desire to repeat it. He would go to Switzerland but whether he would stay for three weeks was another matter.
"Yes, sir," he finally replied.
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Thanks for reading! More soon.
