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Athos was having one of those days. It started with training a new batch of raw recruits. He swore some of them didn’t know one end of a sword from their ass.
His day worsened when he had to later report to King Louis at the palace. So he had to put up with seeing his wife playing up to the king in all her uninhibited glory. Athos honestly felt sorry for Queen Anne having her nose rubbed into it so publicly, but if truth were known, Athos felt sorrier for himself. He never needed a drink more in his life than he did at this very minute. If d'Artagnan had been around he knew the boy would chide him for wanting to backslide into his old habits. Since the lad's arrival, Athos had cut back on his drinking considerably knowing how d'Artagnan looked up to him.
When he had left the palace for the sanctuary of a little peace and quiet to get away from his disturbing thoughts, Treville had sent a message to him that he needed a missive delivered which needed immediate attention and the captain only trusted Athos for this, Athos hung his head. "Of course he did. Like there aren't any other trustworthy men in our regiment that could do this simple errand,” he grumbled as he walked back toward Treville’s office.
Finally, after everything had been accomplished, this time Athos thought he could have some time alone to lose himself in drink, or at least one glass of wine. But, alas, he found that wasn’t to be. Just when he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, d’Artagnan’s young, shining face came into view as Athos was approaching his apartment. He wasn’t in the mood to spar with the pup for surely that is what the boy wanted.
“You ready for me to take you down this time, old man?” d’Artagnan gave his mentor a cocky grin.
“Could we postpone my downfall for another time?” Athos remarked dryly. He gazed at the crestfallen expression on the lad’s face and felt like he just kicked a puppy. “It’s been a rough day, one way or another.”
“Why don’t you and I get something to eat then?” d’Artagnan suggested brightly. “I’m sure Serge has something hearty going on in the kitchen. He always does.”
“My thanks for the invitation, but I’m not at my best right now and definitely not fit company for you.”
“But, Athos…” d’Artagnan didn’t get any further chance to charm his friend into changing his mind, when regrettably Athos got right up into his face. That’s when d’Artagnan realized he may have overstepped the bounds of their friendship.
“YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN TO BACK OFF!” Athos shouted, shoving the boy hard in the chest. “Always forever trailing after me! Acting like I have all the answers!” he shoved d’Artagnan harder until he had the younger man backed up against a wall. “It stops now!” Athos grabbed the boy by his doublet and shook him hard. He didn’t understand why the pup wasn’t fighting him back and just taking it on the chin. But Athos had had enough. He backhanded d’Artagnan so hard the youngster fell on the ground dazed, staring back up at Athos in hurt disbelief.
“NOW… LEAVE… ME… ALONE!” Athos turned on his heel and walked away, never looking back at the heartbroken boy he left behind.
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Later Aramis encountered d’Artagnan in the stables with his head buried in Zad’s long mane of hair. He noticed the boy's shoulder’s shaking and realized d’Artagnan was crying. Approaching him as one would a nervous filly, Aramis made sure he made a little noise so as not to startle their youngest. “May I ask what is so troubling to you, mon fre’re?” When the boy turned his face toward him, Aramis sucked in his breath as his eyes traced the shape of a hand print on one side of d’Artagnan’s face and followed it down to his chin where the child had a nasty cut from something sharp. “Come with me,” he ordered softly and was concerned how compliant his young friend was being as d’Artagnan let Aramis guide him from the stables without any complaint.
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*Aramis’s apartment*
Treating the outward injury was easier than the emotional one he felt d’Artagnan nursed. Tapping a gentle finger to the boy’s chin, Aramis frowned. “You’ll have a slight scar there but it will only improve your looks, mores the pity.” His light attempt at levity fell flat as d’Artagnan just stared down at the floor. Pulling up a chair Aramis sat beside the lad’s quiet form. “Please talk to me?”
“Nothing to say,” d’Artagnan lifted his face, his eyes still full of hurt. “My thanks for taking care of this,” he pointed to his chin. Then without further ado, he got up and left behind his very disturbed friend.
++++
*Captain Treville’s office*
“D’Artagnan, what can I help you with today?”
“I request to be transferred to a different unit, please,” d’Artagnan’s set face showed absolutely no emotion or the strain he was under.
“I must be having a serious issue with my hearing,” Treville scrutinized the boy closely noticing the marks on d’Artagnan’s face. “You no longer wish to work with Athos, Porthos and Aramis?”
“That is correct, sir.” D’Artagnan didn’t elaborate on the problem and hoped the captain wouldn’t press him for an in depth explanation, but by the look on his captain’s face, d’Artagnan knew he wouldn’t be so lucky.
“Son, what happened to bring this about?” for Treville knew something drastic had taken place. The boy fare worshiped the ground his three friends walked on, especially Athos.
Struggling to know what to say, d’Artagnan heaved a great sigh. “This stays just between the two of us?” he swallowed hard as he asked for this favor. “No repercussions on anyone?”
“That will depend on what you have to tell me,” Treville crossed his arms and waited, knowing he wasn’t going to enjoy this.
So d’Artagnan went into detail of what took place between himself and his mentor. “If he truly felt that way I wished he had said something sooner than this.”
“I doubt Aramis and Porthos would want you to leave,” Treville contemplated the fine mess Athos had created and wished the man were here right now for him to deliver a swift kick to his lieutenant’s ass. Not that he thought it would make any difference to the former Comte de la Fere.
“I’ll not cut myself off from their friendship, but if Athos can’t stand the sight of me, what’s the sense in working with him.”
“Any of my other men would be happy to have you by their side,” Treville commented. Pleased to see that his words brightened up the lad’s face considerably. “Tell me who you’d prefer to team up with.” Treville wasn't going to let this drag out because d'Artagnan looked about all in.
Immediately three names came to mind. “Gaspard, Rene and Jacques.” D’Artagnan had worked with each of them at different times before and got on with all of them especially Rene, who was closest to him in age being in his mid twenties to d'Artagnan's nineteen years. “I’ve been on patrols with them many times or when on duty at the palace. We’ve worked well together.”
“I’ll inform them I’ve added to their number. I’m sure they’ll be pleased.” Treville could see the lad was still unsettled. “Take the rest of the day for yourself, and report to Gaspard tomorrow.”
“Thank you for your consideration in this matter, Captain,” d’Artagnan dipped his head in gratitude and then departed, quietly closing the door behind him.
“Athos, you are an idiot everyday of the week,” Treville moaned “but couldn’t you have taken today off?”
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*Next day – Garrison courtyard*
Treville talked to Porthos and Aramis informing them that d’Artagnan would no longer be working directly with them. Both men, as he thought, put up an argument wanting to know why. “That is for d’Artagnan to tell you,” leaving Treville threw over his shoulder, “or perhaps Athos.” Then he left the two stunned Musketeers to their own devices.
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Aramis and Porthos indeed took Treville’s advice and went in search of Athos. They found him as he was finishing up a training session. “Athos,” Porthos voice rumbled, “Aramis and I need to speak with you right now!”
“Go on, I’m done for the day.” Athos walked over to a table to lay down his musket, sword and main gauche.
“What in God’s name happened between you and d’Artagnan?” Aramis was livid, especially since he was the one that tended to d’Artagnan’s injury in the first place. He had a firsthand account of the pup’s broken spirit.
“Who says anything did?” Athos arched an eyebrow, staring at his brothers oddly.
“D’Artagnan is no longer going to work with us,” Porthos snarled. “Did you know that?”
“Perhaps it is for the best,” Athos showed no reaction to the news.
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing!” Aramis cried. “The boy worships you. I thought you cared for him.”
“He’s better off away from me,” Athos reached for his weapons. “Was that all?”
Exchanging frustrated glances, Aramis and Porthos shook their heads and watched their friend walk away.
“What the hell’s goin’ on?” Porthos growled deeply to an obviously confused Aramis.
“I wish I knew, mon ami… I wish I knew.”
++++
*Outskirts of Paris*
“All I can say is it’s their loss and our gain,” Rene smiled pleasantly at d’Artagnan as did Gaspard and Jacques. He realized something drastic must have taken place between his younger friend and the inseparables for this change to occur. But as usual, d’Artagnan wasn’t sharing and Rene wouldn’t pry.
“What are we looking for?” d’Artagnan asked as he had no prior knowledge of this mission.
“A large number of bandits have been plaguing travelers on these roads lately and so far they’ve escaped all our patrols,” Gaspard explained. “Maybe this is our lucky day now that you are riding with us,” he winked at the boy.
Giving the older man a shy smile, d’Artagnan kept careful vigil as they patrolled the area. But no matter how careful one can be, sneak attacks still happen. Which was the case here as d’Artagnan had to dodge musket fire from three riders that came out of the woods to his left. His fellow brothers were engaged fighting at least six more bandits that sprang out from seemingly nowhere. They had a fight on their hands being outnumbered the way they were, but they were the King’s Musketeers and would fight with their very last breath.
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*Musketeer Garrison*
“They’re overdue,” Thierry told Captain Treville, after the Musketeer kept standing near the entrance waiting for them to appear for nearly an hour. Then giving up he went to see his captain.
“I know. I’m getting ready to send out a search party for them,” Treville announced gruffly. He knew d’Artagnan was with them and he had tried hard not to worry, but he realized something must have gone terribly wrong for them not to report back.
“Captain, we’d like to volunteer,” Aramis concerned face told its own story as did Porthos’s who stood beside him.
“Fine, gents,” Treville bit out. “Saddle up. You’ll be leaving shortly.”
Athos came walking down toward Treville just then, curious as to what was happening as he saw Musketeers running to the stables and noticed Aramis and Porthos doing likewise. “What is going on?”
“I have a patrol overdue and I’m sending out another to look for them.” Treville was tempted, oh so tempted, to tell Athos what he really thought of his behavior toward d'Artagnan but he held his tongue.
“Who is late?” Athos was always concerned for his fellow brothers, no more so than when something like this would crop up.
“Rene, Jacques, Gaspard... and d’Artagnan.” Well, well that got a startled reaction from his usually stoic Athos. “Aramis and Porthos already volunteered as you can see.” Treville nodded to Athos’s friends coming out of the stables riding Belle and Roulette.
“As will I.” Athos quickly made short work of saddling Roger and joined the other Musketeers that were readying to leave.
“Didn’t know you cared anymore,” Aramis glared at Athos. His friend’s actions had been a disgrace as far as he was concerned, which had him re-thinking his own friendship with the older man. Maybe he’d join d’Artagnan as well once they find the boy and the others.
Not bothering with words, Athos gave Aramis a grave look, shaking his head. He knew neither of his two brother-in-arms understood his actions of late. Athos felt that things were just falling down around him again and figured d’Artagnan would be better off not in his vicinity before the boy became a casualty. The way he had handled it though, it’s a wonder d’Artagnan didn’t run Athos through with his rapier. He deserved nothing less.
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*Outskirts of Paris*
“No sign of them so far,” Porthos announced. Then he held up his hand, signaling for the rest of his brothers to halt. “Something shiny on the ground over there.” He pointed to the area off the path they were on that lead into the woods.
When they all rode over, Aramis dismounted first and picked the object up, holding it out to Athos hilt first. “D’Artagnan’s sword.”
He really didn’t need much more to happen to make his world come crashing down on his head. But this was it. Losing his composure in front of all his men, Athos shouted out, ‘FIND THEM!” he sounded desperate even to his own ears. “THEY HAVE TO BE SOMEWHERE NEAR US!”
After nearly twenty minutes of searching, Thierry called out, “HERE! THEY’RE OVER HERE!”
Everyone came running but had to stop abruptly as Thierry raised his hand up. Joining the Musketeer, the others realized there was yet another obstacle to overcome in the rescue of their friends. As they all gazed down into a deep ravine, the men could see bodies of the four missing Musketeers.
Praying they were all still alive, Athos and the others got ropes from their saddlebags and tied them to their horses. Some of the men had to stay above ground with their mounts to keep the beasts steady as the rest of them repelled down the ravine.
First one to hit the bottom was Athos who instantly ran to d’Artagnan’s side first.
“Is he alive?” Aramis fingered his cross as he dropped to his knees beside the younger man.
“It appears d’Artagnan took a musket ball to his side,” Athos was worried since the youngster was unconscious as were the rest of the boy’s comrades.
Checking d’Artagnan over for any other injuries, Aramis sighed in relief. “Concussion as well,” he smiled. “That he can survive since we all know what a hard head our young Gascon has.”
Closing his eyes, Athos gave a silent thank you to God for not taking d’Artagnan away from him. He had a lot to atone for, but he would do everything in his power to make this up to the pup. “Aramis, go check on the others.”
“They’re all in pretty rough shape but they’ll make it,” Porthos announced as he came over to see how their whelp was. “He okay?”
“I believe so,” Athos stood up and looked around him. “Now we’ll have to figure out how to get them all out of here.”
“Yeah, a right tricky proposition,” Porthos nodded in agreement. “We’ll think of somethin’,” he gave a huff of laughter, “we always do.” Glancing at d’Artagnan’s pale face, Porthos became angry again. “The lad should have been with us, Athos.”
“Understatement of the century, mon ami,” Aramis clapped his large friend on the shoulder as he came back over. "The rest of our brothers have similar injuries like d'Artagnan but they will recover as Porthos just said.
“We’re not that far from the garrison,” Thierry put in. “Bernard and I can ride back and get a bunch of slats from the stable. We can lower them down here, secure the injured to them, attach ropes to the slats and our horses will do the rest of the work for us.”
“By God man!” Porthos exclaimed. “I think that’ll work right fine.”
So within the next hour and a half, all four injured men were topside and heading back to the garrison with a full Musketeer escort.
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*Infirmary*
“How are my men?” were the first words out of Gaspard’s mouth. Since he was the oldest of his unit Gaspard felt responsible for them.
“Concussions, sword injuries along with musket ball wounds,” Aramis ticked them all off. “Do not worry, Doctor Devereaux is a very capable man.”
“Thanks, Aramis,” Gaspard closed his eyes and then instantly opened them again. “Mon dieu! D’Artagnan!”
“The pup will be fine,” Aramis glanced over his shoulder and saw Athos hovering over their youngest. “But I have a feeling d’Artagnan’s going to be leaving your unit sooner than you expected.”
Craning his neck, Gaspard saw the same thing that Aramis did and he smiled. “That’s as it should be,” he sighed, closing his eyes once more. “The lad never told us what happened and we didn’t pry, but we all knew the boy was hurting.”
“Athos acted like an ass and he knows it. This was a wake-up call for our moody friend.” Patting Gaspard gently on the arm, Aramis grinned. “Get some rest, mon fre’re.”
Checking on Rene and Jacques, Porthos found them to be in better shape than d’Artagnan, but he was pleased his brothers would heal quickly from their wounds.
Sitting by d’Artagnan’s bedside, Athos kept his eyes focused on their young one. Thinking the boy was still unconscious he voiced his thoughts out loud, whisper soft. “I’ve been wrong so many times in my life but d’Artagnan, as God is my witness, I never meant to hurt you. I’d rather cut off my right arm.” He placed his hand on top of d’Artagnan’s head. “I love you,” he winced, “not as a replacement for Thomas but because you’re you.”
“I was fed up with recruits that didn’t seem to know what a rapier was used for, nor could any of them use a musket worth a damn! Then having to see my wife with King Louis made me sick to my stomach. When Treville sent me to deliver a letter that any other soldier in the regiment could do, that was about it for me. Then you came along when I was feeling at my lowest,” he chuckled sadly. “What’s that saying... *wrong place at the wrong time*.” Athos stood up to walk around the other side of the boy’s bed. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Part of me was trying to push you away to save you from myself,” he ran his hand through his hair. “I’m poison to anyway I love,” he gazed at the d'Artagnan fondly. “I never wanted to poison you.”
“Don’t you think I know that, Athos,” d’Artagnan told him softly.
“How much did you hear?” Athos eyes narrowed on the child and when he saw d’Artagnan wouldn’t meet his eyes, Athos leaned down. “Playing possum were you?”
“Mmmmm,” d’Artagnan shyly smiled, “perhaps,” giving Athos his most innocent expression. “I know what you’re going through with Milady. I’m not that dense,” he plucked at the fabric of the blanket covering him. “I was hoping her presence wouldn’t drag you down again.” Gazing at his mentor, his demeanor shifted. “I had a feeling that somewhere down along the line you would try to push me away from you,” he rubbed his chin. “So I thought I’d make it easier for you by withdrawing as you asked,” he shrugged. “I just wasn’t prepared that it would hurt this much.”
He couldn’t help but notice the slight scar on d’Artagnan’s chin that had resulted from the ring Athos wore on his right hand when he struck the lad. “Aramis tells me that it will make you even more attractive to the female population,” Athos’s blue eyes twinkled. “Seriously though, when we found out your unit was late my heart nearly stopped,” he looked down at the floor for a moment. “When I gazed down into that ravine and saw you and the others laying there so lifeless, I thought my world had truly come to an end.” Feeling a hand reach for his own, Athos looked down as the boy's hand latched onto his own. “I think I would have gone off by myself somewhere and blown my brains out if you had died.” As d’Artagnan tugged on his hand, Athos tilted his head. “What?”
“Do not go down that road ever, Athos!”
“I never wanted to outlive you,” Athos voice grew shaky and he feared his composure was about to crack completely.
“How do you think I feel,” d’Artagnan had tears running down his face. Then Athos bent down to hug him hard as the older man’s tears joined d’Artagnan’s.
“All right,” Aramis snorted. “None of this now,” he glared at Athos. “You’re upsetting d’Artagnan again.”
“No he isn’t,” d’Artagnan corrected with a small smile. “We’re clearing the air.”
“Clear it later,” Porthos butted in. “You need to rest.”
“I guess this means you’re leaving us, d’Artagnan,” Rene’s subdued voice spoke from across the room. “It was nice while it lasted.”
“I’ll still be with you like before,” d’Artagnan acknowledged. “But it will be nice to be with my other family again.” He held out his right hand and waited for his friend’s hands to join his own. Seeing and feeling the weight of brotherhood, d’Artagnan gave them all a watery smile. “All for one and one for all!”
The End