Happy new year!
I know it had been some time since I've updated here, but the past two months had been quite busy and exhausting, so there was no time for writing… Moreover it seems that I have a writer's block in almost every story.. help!

So here's a very short, not exciting chapter. Shame on me.

"What happened?" Athos stopped as he took in the scene in front of him, while Lemay waited in the door. Aramis whimpered and tossed his head from one side to the other as he tried to free his hands from ropes around the wrists. Porthos sat with him, bloody footprints showed that he had walked to d'Artagnan's bed sometime. He whispered comforting words to the marksman, but they weren't heard. Their youngest member was oblivious to all of this as he lay in his bed unconscious.

"He would've hurt us or himself. And we weren't it enough to hold him down without them." Porthos admitted in shame, but he couldn't ignore the arch in his muscles and the tiredness that always lingered in his body. Athos nodded, understanding the desperation the two must have had felt.

"I shouldn't have left you alone." Athos made three large steps and reached his two brothers, Lemay followed him instantly, already taking in the condition Aramis was in. "He's feverish, confused. It's his body longing for more of this poison, there is not much I can do. I would give him something to sleep, but I fear that the herbs could have some critical reaction with the poison that's still left in his blood." Lemay put some wet clothes on the marksman's brow sighing. "I'm sorry. But he soon will be too exhausted to keep on fighting. Did he drink or eat anything yet?"

"Some water, nothing else "Keep trying, he needs strength for the withdrawal of the poison."

"And what if he vomits?" Athos remembered how Aramis had paled at the mention of food. "Try nevertheless. There's nothing he can loose."

Athos nod and took his worried glance from Aramis to Porthos, who still sat by his brothers side.

"You've ripped your stitches." Offering an arm for support, Athos helped the tall man up and towards his own bed – they left small spots of blood all over the floor on their way. "We will stitch them in a moment. What's up with d'Artagnan?"

Porthos growled at the imagination of having to endure further stitches, but he knew that there was no way that Athos would leave him like this. "Exhaustion and pain, I guess. He helped me with 'Mis, fell unconscious the moment he was restrained."

Lemay walked from Aramis to d'Artagnan as he took in his condition too. "He really should rest. Don't let him leave his bed for at least the next three days. Fortunately he hasn't ripped anything open, but the movements must have been quite painful."