Chapter Text
Athos looked up in irritation at the sound of his phone ringing. He was working, everyone who had his number knew he was working and not to bother him. He grabbed the phone off the desk and his breath caught when he saw it was Porthos' number. Porthos would not be calling when he was working unless something was wrong.
For a moment his mind flashed back to the time that he didn't have his phone, that it was out on the kitchen counter and Porthos had been shot while on duty. He hadn't been able to forgive himself for months. As it was Aramis had sent D'Artagnan to get him, he had been there when Porthos came out of surgery, but still....
The continued ring of the phone snapped him from his reverie and he answered the call. "Yes?"
"Turn on the tv." Porthos' voice was flat and Athos hurried to the living room to turn on the rarely used TV there.
"What channel?" He asked as he picked up the remote.
"Doesn't matter." Porthos responded and Athos found himself dreading what he would see.
Porthos was right, it didn't matter which channel he chose, the footage was the same on all of them. There had been an explosion, possibly a bomb at the local university's stadium. At the time it had been filled with students for a football game. The stadium was leveled, almost completely destroyed, they were suspecting terrorism The injuries and loss of life were at overwhelming numbers.
"You know where those kids will be sent...." Porthos offered.
"Straight to Aramis," Athos sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. "What can we do?"
"Nothing I can think of, but it's gonna be bad for him. Those injuries, they're gonna be like...."
"Savoy," Athos finished for him, worry for Aramis filling his mind. "Have you heard from him?"
"Nah, he must be out straight. I ... I just wanted you to know....I'm worried about him,"
"As am I." Athos replied sighing.
Porthos walked into the house an hour later, the worry evident on his face. "I ordered take out," Athos offered, "Didn't think you'd feel like cooking." He handed the larger man a glass of wine.
"Thanks," Porthos smiled looking at the sea of take out containers spread out on the coffee table. "Should I call D'Artagnan? You always order enough food for a small army." He grinned at the older man.
Athos nodded, "I'm sure Constance will be tied up as well."
As Porthos pulled his phone from his pocket to make the call, both his and Athos' phone beeped with a text message from Aramis.
I won't be home tonight
Working overtime then just sleeping over
It's madness here
They shared a look and Porthos typed his reply.
Don't forget to take care of yourself
Check in when you can and let us know if you need anything.
He stared at the phone a long moment before placing the call to D'Artagnan who was happy to join the men for dinner. His distress was evident the moment he walked in the door.
"Are you alright D'Artagnan?" Athos asked with concern and the younger man nodded.
"I just can't believe what happened." His voice was almost shaking. "The number of times I've been at that stadium..."
Porthos and Athos shared a look of understanding, they'd forgotten that D'Artagnan had attended the university, that he was local to the area. The two men had moved to the area with Aramis five years earlier, meeting D'Artagnan and Constance within their first week in town.
Constance was the nurse manager in the ER were Aramis worked. The five of them had shared an instant bond when Constance had invited the men over for dinner to welcome them to the area.
Porthos put his arm around the younger man, pulling him close. "Sorry lad. Have you heard from Constance?"
D'Artagnan nodded, "She says its like a war zone, the injuries are horrific. She says Aramis has been amazing. No one else there has that kind of experience."
The other two men nodded, understanding all two well how Aramis had gained the experience. He had been in the military, first a combat medic, then he'd trained as a nurse. That was where he and Porthos met, Porthos had been an officer in the military police. Their paths kept crossing and they soon struck up a friendship. Porthos had been friends with Athos for years and Aramis had seamlessly joined their group after he and Porthos were discharged from the military, the three eventually moving to a large home away from the busy cities they had come from.
The three men sat in near silence, the television showing images of the destroyed stadium and the hundreds of wounded students, there was no way to even calculate the number dead yet. They could barely stand to watch it but each man felt the need to be somehow connected and informed of what was unfolding.
D'Artagnan stayed late, enjoying the company and comfort of his friends. "Do you want to stay over? " Athos offered.
The younger man shook his head. "I want to be home in case Constance stops home in the morning." The others nodded in understanding, Athos pulling him into an awkward embrace, quickly being joined by Porthos who wrapped his arms around both men.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Porthos rested his hand on his shoulder as he walked D'Artagnan to the door. "Call us if you need anything."
Athos and Porthos fell asleep side by side on the couch unable to turn away from the news coverage, feeling it was somehow keeping them connected to Aramis.
Athos woke the next morning alone on the couch, aware first that the television was off and then of the sound of the shower running. Looking at the time he realized Porthos must be getting ready for work. He slowly made his way to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
Once it was brewed he took his mug back to the couch and turned the television back on. He quickly scanned his phone to be sure that they hadn't missed a text from Aramis. The news coverage remained disheartening, they were still searching for and finding survivors in the remains if the stadium, they estimated that hundreds had perished.
Hearing the shower turn off, Athos made his way back to the kitchen and prepared Porthos' coffee. He brought it back to the living room and handed it to him as they sat back on the couch.
Porthos nodded his thanks. "Anything new?"
"Not from what I can tell," Athos answered. "They still aren't sure of the cause, or of how many are injured and dead." His voice was solemn.
"I wish I knew how Aramis was," Porthos sighed and Athos nodded, both men feeling the weight of their deep worry for their friend and helplessness to be able to reach out to him.
Porthos left for work and Athos found himself at a loss. He knew he couldn't focus enough to go back to work on his writing but the idea of staring at the news coverage all day was more than he could stand. He found himself absently puttering around the house accomplishing nothing. He managed to stay away from the news for a couple of hours before returning to the television.
He texted Porthos to check in, sometimes Porthos' job as a detective got them additional inside information, but the university was outside his jurisdiction and the federal government had taken over the investigation. There was no news from Aramis leaving both men uneasy.
Athos texted D'Artagnan later that afternoon to check in and once he heard Constance would be remaining late at work again, invited him to dinner.
Porthos usually did most of the cooking, but feeling a need to keep busy Athos prepared an elaborate dinner for the three men. D'Artagnan had spoken briefly to Constance who promised to be home late that night. The others were pleased when their phones announced a text from Aramis but disappointed to see he planned on staying another night at the hospital.
"You will ask Constance how Aramis is doing?" Athos asked and D'Artagnan nodded.
"We'd appreciate it." Porthos added, aware that D'Artagnan was not aware of the reason nor depth of their concern.
They made a point of eating dinner in the dining room away from the news coverage but it did little to improve their moods. The meal was another quiet one, after a time the two men prompted their younger friend to share some stories of his time at the university. It seemed to help his mood a bit and helped distract Athos and Porthos from their worries about Aramis.
"Constance mentioned that Aramis was a combat medic in the military. Is that where you met him?" D'Artagnan asked after telling them an amusing story about an embarrassing date.
"It is." Porthos answered. "We served at the same time."
"I met him when he followed Porthos home," Athos added with a grin. "Porthos and I have known each other since we were children." The next half hour was passed with the two men entertaining D'Artagnan by telling embarrassing childhood stories about each other.
By the time the meal was over the mood was lighter and the three men had managed to temporarily distract themselves from their concerns. D'Artagnan cleared the table while Porthos served the chocolate cake he had picked up at the bakery across from the police station on his way home.
"Chocolate cake?" D'Artagnan asked with a smile.
"Athos likes comfort food." Porthos grinned and Athos sighed.
"Yes, it's all because of me," Athos rolled his eyes as the three dug into their cake.