Chapter Text
There was a heavy weight on his lower body and he struggled to breathe. Someone had a hand on his shoulder and was holding him down, but this just made him struggle anymore. He needed to get up and look for Athos. He hadn't seen the man before the second explosion went off and he was extremely worried about him.
“Athos”, he croaked, opening his eyes a fraction only to close them a second later as it was far too bright, “find him”
There was a moment silence before a very familiar voice spoke, “I'm alright, D'Artagnan, you don't need to worry about me” The Gascon exhaled loudly in relief.
“D'Artagnan”, Aramis said softly, touching the young man's cheek. “I need you to open your eyes”
And so the Gascon complied, marveling in the fact that Aramis was holding his hat over his head so that the sun didn't disturb him. Looking around, he saw that a lot of the structure had fallen apart and wooden beams had fallen down on the ground, pinning himself and three other musketeers to the ground.
“Oh my God”, he whispered with fright, looking down at his pinned legs with panic coursing throughout his veins. “Please don't let them be broken, please God”, he said it over and over again, shock coursing it's way throughout his body, making him cold and illogical. “I won't be able to serve if they're broken”
Athos grabbed his face in his hands and stared at him, “You'll be fine, just relax and try not to move too much.”
“On the count of three”, came Treville's voice from behind Athos, and he could see Porthos, Treville and two other musketeers bending down to pick up the wooden beam. “One...”, came the Captain's voice, “two”... and then there was pain, as well as relief as Athos and Aramis grabbed him from under the arm-pit's and dragged him away from the debris.
“You alright, lad?”, Porthos asked, immediately coming over to D'Artagnan.
The Gascon nodded his head, unable to reply as his heart was beating erratically. His eyes found Treville's and he was shocked to see that the captain looked almost more relieved than he felt. If D'Artagnan didn't know better, he would think that the captain wanted to go over to him and comfort him. But that was stupid. There were other musketeers' who were wounded and why would Treville think more of D'Artganan than the other musketeers'?
The young musketeer allowed himself to be carried back to the room's. The cement building's were the only thing that remained untouched from the explosions, so perhaps all was not gone.
“What exactly happened back there?”, D'Artagnan asked the others once they had gotten settled in the room. He was trying hard to fight the pain that he felt through-out his body, and even with Aramis' gentle hands inspecting his body, he still clenched his teeth together in pain.
“Unfortunately we can't be sure”, Athos replied, washing his face with a cloth, wincing as he addressed the wound on his forehead. “But we will find out”
“That was a deliberate attack on the musketeers'”, Porthos put in, “and I have a feeling it won't be the last unless we find Leon.”
“In order to find out where Leon is, we need to find out why he is doing this”.
“Perhaps we can talk about this later?”, Aramis suggested as he pointed to a nearly unconscious D'Artagnan, “when we're all conscious enough to hear it”.
Athos nodded and moved a chair up beside the bed, taking to cleaning the younger man's face from the dirt and grime. This was the hardest day they all had in sometime and for the Gascon, he never wanted to go through that again. The panic he felt when he thought he had broken his legs was tremendous and the new bruises and cuts he had on his body would be felt for quite sometime. If the need to find out what was going on before the explosions happened were great, then they were even greater now.
He had to find out what Treville knew and there was no if's and but's about it. The captain knew something, and it was just so painfully obvious to D'Artagnan now.
The young man closed his eyes, ignoring the aches and pain he felt in his body. He just knew when he woke up tomorrow he was going to have one hell of a headache.
---
D'Artagnan shifted in his bed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. No matter what position he was in, he was just uncomfortable. A physician was sent to see him - as he was sent to all the injured musketeers' – and D'Artagnan was given a small vile for the pain. The physician also insisted on cleaning the wound on Athos' head, which the older man spoke out against but ultimately gave in once D'Artagnan asked him to.
He mostly slept the next day, too tired and physically exhausted to do much. Though, his thoughts kept taking him to Treville and his family, something was off.
“Are you alright?”, Athos asked when D'Artagnan didn't touch his lunch. Ever since yesterday he hadn't had much of an appetite, though whether it was due to the pain or his never-ending thought's, he did not know.
D'Artagnan sighed loudly, “I'm okay”, he lied,
“You really ought to learn to lie better”, Athos remarked, “truly, what is going through your mind?”
“There's a lot of things, but mainly Treville”, at Athos' eyebrow raise, he continued, “The prisoner kept saying that Treville knew and when I went to see him yesterday morning he said to ask Treville about my mother”
“You went to the dungeons without one of us?”, the frustration was evident in the man's voice, “that was dangerous and reckless of you. We have no idea what these men are capable of, D'Artagnan”
D'Artagnan held up his hand's defensively, “did you not hear what I said? Treville knows something about my mother”
“What could he know?”, Athos asked, trying hard to remain calm.
“I don't know! That's why I need to find out”
“Not today you don't, just forget about it for now. No point in making yourself even more exhausted than you already are. Try and eat something, I'll be back soon, don't attempt to go anywhere”
D'Artagnan frowned, “It's not like I can go anywhere”. It's true, even though his leg's didn't break, they were still bruised and incredibly sore.
“I'll be back later”, was all Athos said before he left, closing the door gently on his way out, leaving the Gascon with his thought's.
He mainly slept, tossing and turning as he struggled to find a comfortable position. He was restless, there was no other way to put. He couldn't wait to get up out of bed and try to search for answers as people's lives were literally depending on it.
D'Artagnan was mulling over his thought's when Treville walked in. He was looking toward the floor and he seemed unsure of what to say as he pulled a chair up beside the bed. There was moment of complete, awkward silence before the captain spoke.
“How are you feeling?, Treville asked quietly, seeming unsure of himself.
“A little sore, but I'm sure I'll be able to return to duty soon”, D'Artagnan began to say but Treville held up his hands.
“No point in running yourself sick, take all the time you need”
“Thank you, Sir”, D'Artagnan replied, feeling immensely confused and slightly worried. “Is everything okay, sir?”.
Treville shook his head, “no, my musketeer's are injured and it's all my fault”
“Sir, I...”
“No, it is my fault”, Treville replied earnestly, “I had the opportunity to kill Leon twenty years ago, but I didn't. I believed that he would change and make a better life for himself. How wrong I was”, Treville chided himself. At D'Artagnan's look of wonder, the man continued, “This man's sister came to me twenty-one years ago, under the pretense of a peasant woman out in the streets. I took her in, gave her my home, clothed her, fed her. I, we, fell in love. Unfortunately I was unaware of who she was working for, but by the time I found out it was too late, she was with child, with my child.
I saw no happy ending for her or the baby in Paris, so we ran. We ran for nine months, she was exhausted, the pregnancy was taking a toll on her and once she gave birth she passed away. Leon and the other's were close, so I took my child and went to Gascony”
D'Artagnan's head perked up at that and his eyes narrowed, he had a feeling he knew where this story was going, but he wished for it not to be true.
“My baby hadn't eaten and was surely going to starve if he didn't get milk soon”, Treville started, “I came across a man whose wife had lost her child a day prior but she was still producing milk”, Treville licked his chapped lips as he struggled to think of what to say next, “The people who took me and my son in were the D'Artagnan's”
Realization must have dawned on D'Artagnan's face because the captain instantly tried to say something else with his hands held up defensively, but the young musketeer didn't want to hear it. Not now, not ever. Judging from the captain's face, he knew it was true. His whole life was a lie, his parents weren't actually his parent's. His real mother was dead, and so was the woman he had grown up to believe was his mother.
“Get out”, D'Artagnan said, eerily calm.
“Charles”, Treville protested, but the musketeer jumped out of bed and knocked the captain to the floor. Shock was evident on the man's face and if D'Artagnan wasn't so angry, he might have felt bad.
“Don't. Call me Charles, call me D'Artagnan like everyone else does. My true name”
Treville got up and faced the young musketeer, “your name is Charles”
D'Artagnan inched forward, so that his face was only mere centimeters away, “Get. Out. Or I swear to God I will throw you out”
“We have to talk about this...”
“NO, we don't”, D'Artagnan argued, pushing the older man to the door, making him stumble slightly, “If you don't get out I swear I'll deliver you to Leon myself”
“D'Artagnan!”, came a startled voice outside the door, but the Gascon didn't care. He closed the door on the captain and a shocked Athos.
He would deal with the repercussions of what he did later, but right now, he just wanted to be alone and not have someone breathing down his neck. He had to process everything the man told him.
There were unshed tears in his eyes as poured himself a glass of wine; everything had been a lie, his parents were a lie, him believing that he was a Gascon farm boy, when really, he had no idea what he was. He couldn't believe Treville and his parents had kept this from him! They should have told him sooner rather than have him believe a lie. And why did Treville choose to tell him now? It was a little too late. The man should have told him after they had gotten Leon, because now there was a possibility that they would be distracted on the job.
D'Artagnan remained locked in his room the rest of the day and throughout the night, ignoring the knocks and plead's from his friends to be let in. He couldn't face them in the state he was in; drunk and miserable. Surely the almighty captain would have told them at least now, and his friend's would want to talk, but he didn't want to. He had better things to do, like drink and pretend that he hadn't heard any of what the man told him.
The next morning he ignored the pain in his body and the limp in his step, and got dressed, ready to go back to the dungeons. Despite everything he know knew, he still had a job to do and that was find Leon and keep him in custody until Treville decided what do with him. D'Artagnan decided to go alone again as he didn't want to talk to anyone about yesterday. He wasn't ready to talk about it or even acknowledge it out loud.
He went to the same man he had seen twice, realizing that if he was going to get anywhere it would be with him. Just like always, the man was awake, though he didn't look like his usual over-confident self. Instead, he looked haggard, tired and the light in his eyes was gone.
D'Artagnan whistled, “You really don't look good”
“What do you want?”, the man asked, failing to sound intimidating as his voice was croaky.
“There was an explosion at the garrison the other day, you know anything about that?”, D'Artagnan asked, getting straight to the point.
“Aye”, the man said quietly, “I know about that, I don't know why you're talking about it to meh for. Obviously I didn't do it”
“I know you didn't, but Leon and his men did”, D'Artagnan smiled, “I want to have a meeting with him and I need your help finding him”
“Why the heck would I help you for?”, the man spat at the floor in attempt to look vicious, but to D'Artagnan he just looked incredibly stupid.
“If I let you go, will you send a message to him? You don't have to take him to me, just bring him to me”
“So I can send him to his death! You think I don't know that you will have the other musketeer's waiting for him?”
“Look at me”, D'Artagnan spoke calmly, moving in front of the sickly looking man, “look at me closely. You still think I will lead him to his death?”
“Well, then, what do you want from him?”
“I want to talk about my mother”, D'Artagnan replied, earning him a grin from the man.
“Treville told 'ya, did he? Well, lad, get me out of 'ere and I'll tell Leon what ever you want me to tell him”
---
D'Artagnan sat in his room, biting his nails nervously as he thought about what he just did. He didn't know if the other musketeers' noticed a missing prisoner yet and he didn't particularly want to there when they found out, nor did he want them to discover that it was him who let the man free. Looking back on it now, it might not have been the best decision, but he had to do something. The other's weren't doing anything and at the rate that everyone else was working, there would be no musketeers' left. They didn't have the time to waste contemplating their next move. They, more specifically, D'Artagnan had to do something now.
The young musketeer looked up pointedly as Athos barged in the room, not caring about invading his privacy. “What did you do!?”, he yelled angrily.
“I don't know what you're talking about”, D'Artagnan replied calmly, hoping he sounded at least half convincing.
“Don't lie to me, D'Artagnan. Do you have any idea what you've done? Out of the prisoners we kept he was the only one who was talking, now you've damaged any chances we have of finding Leon”
“Not exactly”, D'Artagnan reasoned, standing up and wincing slightly as the pressure on his leg's sent pain shooting up throughout his body. “If all goes well, I'll be meeting Leon tomorrow night”
Athos rubbed a hand over his face and exhaled loudly, “where?”
“Outside the Bastille, nine-thirty”, D'Artagnan replied instantly, not wanting to anger Athos any further.
“Why the Bastille?”
D'Artagnan shrugged, “It's heavily guarded by the red-guards, so if Leon does decide to do something at least I will have some protection”
“Will he oblige to those terms?”
“He'll have to if he want's to talk”
“He doesn't want to talk, D'Artagnan”, Athos reprimanded, “he want's to kill, to get pay back. In his mind, Treville is the reason that his sister is dead, he wants to kill you for some kind of sick revenge, do you understand me?”
D'Artagnan rolled his eyes, “I don't want to hear about Treville”
“He is your captain and your father”, Athos replied calmly.
“He's nothing but an old fool!”
“D'Art...”, Athos was cut off mid-sentence by D'Artagnan.
“I don't want to hear it. Tomorrow I will be meeting with Leon and you can't stop me”
“I'll accompany you, then”
“No”, the young musketeer replied, “no musketeers there but me”.
Athos sighed loudly before sitting down and draining a glass of wine that D'Artagnan had poured himself earlier on. Both men didn't say anything after that, choosing to remain silent as they mulled things over in their heads. Athos was apparently infuriated at the boy and D'Artagnan was annoyed by the audacity Athos had. This wasn't about Treville, this was about the entire regiment.
Later on in the day, after Athos had left, he went to the nearest tavern and drank himself into a somewhat peaceful oblivion. There were other people there of course, it was loud and rowdy, but D'Artagnan ignored the noise and kept drinking, wanting to drown out all thoughts about Treville, his parents and the look of pure frustration that was evident on Athos' face. He felt like he was letting Athos down and betraying not only the man he had come to admire, but his other two closest friends.
He had a brief thought of letting the others know but shook his head to himself. If he told them they would insist on coming and they would succeed as well. His life was already in danger with meeting Leon and his soldiers and he couldn't allow his friends to be in danger as well.
Deciding he had enough for one night, he stumbled out of the building and wandered into the garrison to where his room was. It was times like this he wished he still lived in Constance's house so they could talk, but with everything that happened, he decided it was best if they separated for quite sometime. Still, it didn't make it any easier when he desperately wished to have someone other than his friends to confide in.
Falling face first into his bed, he fell into another restless night's sleep. It seemed there was no rest for the wicked.
---
Athos was seriously pissed off and if he didn't have important things to do then he probably would have drunk himself into oblivion and passed out in the streets somewhere, but as it was D'Artagnan needed him. The idiot boy made it clear that he didn't want help but that didn't mean he didn't need it. What he was going to do was going to get him killed but yet the idiot boy didn't see it. He was angry at Treville that was being blindsided by hate and that was never good. Athos had tried to teach him over and over again that head over heart, but yet here the boy was, so willing to throw away his life over something that could be sorted out.
It was this that made Athos get Porthos and Aramis, before going to see their captain. D'Artagnan could get in trouble for helping a prisoner escape but it was nothing in comparison to being killed by an unknown's uncle hand.
“Are you sure he's going to meet with Leon at that time and location?”, Treville asked Athos.
“I'm positive, Sir. He believes that it's best, but he acted rashly and this time his recklessness could get him killed”
“I tried so hard to protect him from Leon and he walks right into a trap. What does he think?”, Treville asked almost angrily, “That Leon want's to talk?”
There was a brief silence before Porthos spoke, “In all fairness, I don't think he was thinking. I think he was just angry and made a decision based on anger”
“That's all well and good”, Aramis put in, “until he get's himself killed. What are we going to do? If Leon sees musketeers he could kill D'Artagnan straight away and kill us as well”, he said the last part quietly but everyone heard it.
“We'll think of something”, the captain replied with determination, “we have to”
---
D'Artagnan paced back and forth nervously as he waited for Leon to show. His eyes kept shifting back and forth as he concealed himself behind the building just outside of the red-guards eyesight, but still close enough to alert them if something went wrong. Thinking about it, he knew he planned this with haste and anger, not thinking about all the possibilities that could go wrong, but now he realized how stupid and foolish he was. He was alone and would be facing Leon alone and who knew how many men the assassin would bring along with him. D'Artagnan was a good fighter, no a great fighter, but there was a possibility he would be outnumbered. Biting his bottom lip, he tried to repress a groan. He was stupid and let his heart rule over his head....again.
“D'Artagnan?”, came an unfamiliar voice, “is that you?”.
“Yes”, was all he replied before six men walked into sight, one of the men, presumably Leon walking a step ahead of them.
The man smiled, “I'm Leon, you wanted to meet me?”
Word's failed D'Artagnan as he inspected the man. He had tanned complexion and appeared to be in his late forties, though he was aging gracefully.
“Are you alright?”, the man asked kindly, making the Gascon frown. “You seem...intimidated”
D'Artagnan shook his head, “sorry, I imagined you to be a little...different”
The man laughed, “So, my boy, what exactly it is that you want?”
D'Artagnan looked at the men individually, taking in their angry and non-amused faces and with their hands on their hilt of their swords, ready to strike at any moment, he realized the facade Leon was putting on. This man appeared to be calm and collective, but he was the same man who organized the explosions and was taunting the musketeers and Treville, hell, this man had gotten him injured during the explosion and not by accident either.
“I just wanted to meet my Uncle”, D'Artagnan put false happiness in his voice, heeding Aramis' advice and lying better.
Leon raised his eyebrow's, “Well, what is it that you want to know?”
“How come you tried to kill my mother after she fell pregnant?”
“Ahh, straight to the point, aren't you?”, Leon responded and D'Artagnan tried his hardest to ignore the men who had drawn their swords. Out of the corner of his eye he saw red guards drawing closer and he thanked his lucky stars that the Cardinal had trained them to be nosy men.
“Why are you attacking the musketeers'?”, he tried again, refraining from unsheathing his sword. “They haven't done anything to you and yet you attack us!”
“That's the best way to get to Treville isn't it?”, Leon replied sarcastically, moving closer to D'Artagnan. “Another way to get to Treville is you”.
D'Artagnan unsheathed his sword just in time. His blade met with Leon's and for a second their blades were shaking with the shear force both men were putting into the attack. D'Artagnan took a step back just as Leon swung his sword. It was so close that he could almost feel the blade hit him. He gathered his wits quick enough to deflect a blow to the face, but Leon was fast and strong and D'Artagnan was injured from the explosions, so he was the weaker opponent. But he didn't give up. Rolling to the right, he barely missed a sword going through his stomach.
“Leon”, came a voice from somewhere behind him, “enough”
Leon didn't respond, choosing to attack D'Artagnan, who had barely found his footing before loosing his balance again. As focused as he was on trying to remain upright he momentarily forgot about Leon and by the time he focused again, he was sent to the ground, with Leon gripping his shirt in his fist and speaking close enough to his face that he could feel the hot breath.
“You brought your friends with you”, Leon mused, “I'm not surprised”.
“I didn't bring them”, D'Artagnan tried to reason, earning a punch to the face by the man he now loathed.
The guards came forward and that was when D'Artagnan saw his friends...and father. They held their swords up high in a defensive matter and each of them had eyes on Leon and his grip on D'Artagnan. Every man there knew there was the possibility that Leon could kill him the moment he was aggravated.
“Leon”, Treville began cautiously, his eyes going to D'Artagnan and to Leon, “let him go”
The man put his knife to D'Artagnan's throat, pressing down hard enough to draw blood, making the young man wince slightly. “One good reason why I shouldn't”, Leon remarked, looking down at D'Artagnan with distaste.
“Because if you wanted to kill him already you would have”, came the serious voice of Athos, “you've had plenty of chances to kill him, the explosion, this and you and I both know you've been watching him waiting to kill him, but yet you haven't”
“Shut up”, Leon spat, heat rising to his face.
“You don't want to kill him”, Treville reasoned, “I know you don't. Look at him, Leon, look how much he looks like Celine”
Unshed tears made their way into Leon's eyes and if D'Artagnan's life wasn't in the hands of someone so psychopathic he might have felt bad for him.
“Dont! Mention her name”
“Just put the knife down, Leon, you and I both know you're outnumbered”, Treville replied back instantly.
Porthos nodded his head enthusiastically, “You kill him, we kill you. Simple as that”
There was a split second where Leon looked at the four men pointing their swords at him before he looked down at D'Artagnan, who caught his gaze stubbornly, proving that he was unafraid of him or death. His hand shook before he dropped the knife to the side before falling over as well.
“He does look like Celine”, was all he said before Treville moved forward and grabbed him roughly by his collar.
“Go near my son again and I'll kill you”, he said before he punched him in the face, effectively knocking him unconscious. “Porthos, help me get him to the dungeons”.
D'Artagnan watched them go through blurry vision, still lying down as his body ached terribly, though it was better than being dead he supposed.
“You okay?”, Aramis asked, helping him sit up, both Aramis and Athos were staring worriedly at him.
He remained silent for a moment, “I will be”, he eventually replied and he meant it.
---
The court-yard was silent as they watched the man hang and D'Artagnan had to look away, sickened by the way the man was gasping for breath. The king had sentenced the men in the dungeons to hang, as he was under the belief that it was an attempt on his life, but D'Artagnan suspected the outcome for the men would have been the same for them if the king knew the truth. However, no one told the king the truth. Treville didn't want to go into matters of his personal life and D'Artagnan and the others followed their captain's orders, whether they approved or not.
It had been a week since D'Artagnan had met with Leon and he had not spoken with Treville since, being mostly on bed-rest whilst the other musketeer's helped restore the Garrison and manage to fulfill their duties. He had a little over a week to think things through and not dwell on such angry thought's as he thought about Treville. The man had done what he thought was right, and whether he was happy or not about it, it wasn't going to change the past. That was what Athos had told him, at least. And he believed the man, because if anyone knew about betrayal it was him.
D'Artagnan watched Leon with cautious eyes, he realized that the man wasn't scared or upset about dying, but he was relieved. It was evident on his face. All the years of hatred and sadness had finally caught up with the man and he wanted to die to finally find peace, and that, D'Artagnan thought, was not a bad ending to a troubled man. Leon caught his gaze and nodded before focusing his attention to the man hanging. They were his friends, D'Artagnan realized and once again he felt something close to sympathy stir within him.
Leon was the last man to hang and D'Artagnan felt saddened by his death.
He grieved for the mother he never knew, his mother and father that he did know but lost, he grieved for the uncle he would never have. Most of all, he grieved for the father that was alive but he had never known as his father. Maybe he would view him as a father one day, but not today, for he was his captain whom he respected greatly, despite all the personal issues.
Athos turned to face him, a look of sympathy crossing his face as he put a hand on D'Artagnan's shoulder, “Let me buy you a drink”.
---
D'Artagnan returned back to his room that night feeling immensely sad by the world all around him. He felt sad and angry and he felt lost to the world, like he was unsure of what his purpose was anymore. He returned back to duty next week and he was unsure of how it was going to be now that he knew that the captain was actually his father. Should he try and make an effort? Perhaps he should just treat him as he always had? Putting it like that, D'Artagnan concluded that it was the best decision, but then he remembered what his father said back when he was younger, about meeting a man full of courage and honor, and D'Artagnan now knew he was talking about Treville. This made it hard to think of Treville as anything less than his father.
The man had done what he did to protect him and his (fake?) family, and if he was ever in Treville's shoes he was sure he would have done the same if he had the strength to. What Treville did was strong and it took a lot of courage to give up your child for the sake of their safety so D'Artagnan couldn't possible be angry or hate him for it. With a deep sigh, he fell into his mattress, knowing full well that sleep would probably evade him once again.
The next morning found him wandering to Treville's office, being weary of the structure that was still fragile from the explosion. The captain looked surprised, but nonetheless let him in, prompting him to sit down.
“Is everything alright?”, Treville asked with uncertainty in his tone.
“Yes, well no, I've just been thinking about the situation”, D'Artagnan began, fidgeting with the top of his dagger, “I don't blame you”, he eventually spoke, with a look that could only be described as innocence.
Treville nodded, “I'm quite relieved to hear that, though even if you did blame or hate me, I would understand. I messed up”
“That's the thing, you didn't”, D'Artagnan replied back earnestly, “If I were you I would have done the exact same thing”
Treville raised his eyebrows, “You would have?”
“Yes”, the young musketeer replied back instantly, “I've thought about it all night and as much as it would have pained me to do so, I would have”
D'Artagnan accepted the cup of wine from the older man, “I guess we are more similar than I imagined”, D'Artagnan admitted and at seeing the man smile at him, his nerves dissapeared and was replied with peace.
“Like father like son”, Treville said, raising his cup in a toast.
“Like father like son”, D'Artagnan agreed almost hesitantly before taking a drink of wine.