So, yeah. I intended for my next story to be Supernatural, but...I had a dream the other night and this story is a result of that dream. Just a two-shot that I had planned to not post until both parts were done, but darn it, I was too excited! I had to post part one! Sue me :)

Nobody you recognize belongs to me (dang it). I only own the icky dude.

I hope you enjoy!

Suffer the Innocents

Chapter 1

The first thing he felt upon awakening was pain. Skull splitting, brain piercing pain. He groaned, then moaned when the groan only caused the pain to spike more. It took much longer than it should have for him to force his eyes open, but when he finally did it was only to squeeze them shut again against the tiny bit of light that greeted him. He breathed through the nausea roiling in his gut, relaxing slightly when he felt he wouldn't lose all that he had eaten. He heard movement near him and bristled at the idea of not knowing where he was, how he'd gotten there and who or what it was making the noise. He let out a relieved breath when a familiar voice called out to him.

"Porthos…are you okay?" the voice called, both worry and relief evident in the breathy way it sounded.

Porthos took a deep breath, geared himself up and opened his eyes. "'m fine, 'Mis…how bout you…you okay?" he answered, the pain not quite as bad this time.

"Thank God," Aramis breathed out somewhere to Porthos' right. "I'm fine as well. Just a little bump on the head," he added before Porthos could ask again.

"What happened?" Porthos queried as he squinted around the pain and turned toward his friend's voice.

"Near as I can remember, we were jumped outside the tavern," Aramis replied.

Porthos nodded, remembering now the sudden pain in his head once he had stepped out the door with his friends. His heart quickened as he remembered that it wasn't just he and Aramis at the tavern and he turned his head and peered through the gloom of wherever they were. "Athos?" he asked when he could see nobody to his left.

"He's here, next to me. Still out," Aramis replied.

Porthos sagged back in relief and took as deep of a breath as his head would allow. "Thank God the pup wasn't feeling up to coming out with us," he said as he turned his head and tried to make out his friend in the gloom.

"Yes. For once the trouble came for us and not our young Gascon," Aramis agreed. Suddenly, Porthos heard a soft grunt then the sound of Aramis whispering, though he couldn't hear the words.

"'Mis…what's goin' on?" the big man called worriedly.

"Athos has decided to join us finally," Aramis replied. "Seems he's in the same condition as both of us. Come on, Athos, that's good…take your time opening your eyes," he continued as Porthos listened on.

"Wha' the 'ell did I drink las' night?" Athos' hoarse voice queried.

"Ah, my friend, it is not the drink that has made you feel this way I'm afraid," Aramis responded. "We left early, remember? Wasn't the same without d'Artagnan there…wanted to call it an early night. Any of this ringing any bells?"

"Gah…no bells…please," Athos hissed, bringing a small smile to Porthos' lips.

"We were jumped outside the tavern and now we're…wherever this is," Aramis supplied. "Do you remember now?"

Porthos heard shuffling, another grunt and then Athos spoke. "Damn it…I remember walking out the door and seeing you go down, then Porthos, then pain," he said. More shuffling, more frantic this time, "Porthos!"

"'m fine, Athos…right 'ere," Porthos said.

"Thank God," Athos breathed out as he sagged back against whatever it was he was tied to.

"So, who do you suppose we pissed off this time?" Aramis queried.

"Who ain't we pissed off?" Porthos responded lightly.

"True, my friend. We seem to have a knack now don't we?" Aramis said.

"That we do," Athos supplied.

Just then, light spilled into what turned out to be a small supply shed. The three musketeers squinted their eyes against the light and turned to where the door to the shed had been swung open. There in the doorway stood a man, his body silhouetted as bright sunlight poured in behind him, his features masked until he stepped further into the room and smiled down at his three captives.

"Who the 'ell are you?" Porthos hissed as he glared up at the man.

The man, who appeared not much older than them, glanced at Porthos and bowed slightly. "I am Adalard d'Aubigny," he said in introduction.

Porthos cocked his head as he continued to glare up at the man. "Don't ring a bell…should we know you?" he asked.

The man above him smiled then began to pace before the three bound men. "You do not know me," he began, stopping at the feet of each musketeer before continuing his pacing. "You do however know my brother," he added before he stopped once again at Athos' feet and glared down at the man.

Athos lifted an eyebrow and studied the man. He looked familiar, though Athos was sure he had never met the man before. "How do we know your brother? What is his name?" he queried.

"Acelin d'Aubigny," d'Aubigny replied. "My Ace…and you know him well."

"Acelin d'Aubigny…the name does sound familiar, but…" Aramis started.

"You can't remember the man you murdered!?" d'Aubigny suddenly shouted, his face red as he moved to Aramis and viciously kicked his leg.

"Hey!" Porthos spat, his dark eyes flashing angrily at the man.

"I'm fine, Porthos…calm yourself," Aramis hissed through clenched teeth as he breathed through the pain.

"You say we murdered your brother," Athos said, drawing d'Aubigny's attention away from his friends. "We are not in the business of murder. I'm sure you are mistaken," he added.

"Think about the name…and my face. I am older, but my brother resembled me quite closely," d'Aubigny hissed.

The three musketeers were silent as they mulled over the name in their heads. A quick intake of breath let the others know that Athos had remembered.

"Three years ago, your brother was found guilty of thievery and murder. He was hanged in Paris for his crimes. We were the three men who brought him to justice," Athos stated uneasily as he cast a quick glance at his brothers.

"Give the man a medal!" d'Aubigny cried.

"We did not murder your brother. His actions are what brought him to his end," Athos stated calmly.

"My brother was innocent! His so called trial was a witchhunt! He did not deserve to die and now you will all pay for what you did!" d'Aubigny shrieked.

"There were witnesses who identified your brother…" Athos started only to be stopped when d'Aubigny lurched forward, dropped to his knees and roughly grabbed his hair, yanking his head back and drawing a hiss of pain from the swordsman.

"The witnesses were wrong! He may have looked like the one who committed the crimes, but he wasn't there!" d'Aubigny seethed, his face mere inches from Athos'.

Aramis glanced at Porthos, his dark eyes wide, before he turned back to Athos and d'Aubigny. "Wait…it was you. You robbed and murdered that couple…and you let your brother pay the price," he said accusingly.

d'Aubigny let loose of Athos' hair and pushed back onto his heels as he looked over at the marksman. "By the time word got to me that my brother had been arrested, it was too late. I got to Paris in time to see him die. I couldn't save him, so I vowed to him that I would get revenge," he said, his voice tinged with grief and hatred.

"So, you plan to kill us," Athos stated. "We were only doing our jobs…"

"The musketeers had no business in the matter!"

"But they did. The man who was murdered was a close friend of the King. He demanded that we find whomever was responsible and that is what we did," Aramis said.

"You didn't! You trusted the word of drunks who said that it was my brother, even when it was dark!" d'Aubigny shouted. "My brother was good and kind. He didn't deserve to die like that!"

Athos let out a shaky breath and peered up at d'Aubigny. "We are sorry if a mistake was made, but we had enough evidence against your brother. The witness' accounts, plus we found a ring belonging to the murdered man in his possession. He never denied the charges against him," he explained.

"I gave him that ring as a gift for his 24th birthday. He would have known once you identified the ring what had happened and he would have never denied the charges lest suspicion fall on me. I sealed his fate by giving him that ring, but you…you failed to see the goodness in him. You could not see past what was put in front of you…you didn't once think that he may be innocent!"

"How can you fault us? You should have been aware of the possibility that there would be witnesses and by giving your brother that ring…"

"You should have known by looking into his eyes that he was innocent! You should have done all you could to find the true murderer!" d'Aubigny screamed as tears flowed down his cheeks. "He was the only true and pure thing in my life and you stole him from me! You forced me to watch as he met the end of a rope! I see him die over and over again in my dreams! You must pay for what you have done!"

"So you are going to kill us. Will that bring him back?" Aramis asked, his heart torn between feeling anger at this man for what he was about to do, and pity for him for what he had lost.

d'Aubigny turned to Aramis and smiled. The smile sent shivers down the marksman's back. "Already the wheels are in motion. The traps have been set. By tonight, I will have my revenge." The three musketeers watched in shocked confusion as the madman turned and casually walked to the door. They could see men outside…whether they were hired thugs or men close to d'Aubigny were left to be seen. As he stepped through the door, d'Aubigny turned and smiled again. "Tonight this will all be over," he said before he shut the door, leaving the three musketeers in darkness once more.

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d'Artagnan sat in his normal spot at the table in the garrison, his dark eyes watching the entrance like his life depended on it. He had yet to see his three friends and worry was beginning to worm its way through his mind. They had missed breakfast, then morning muster and the Gascon could tell by the way Treville looked at him that it wasn't due to a sudden mission of some sort. In fact, Treville had been on his way to the table when a messenger from the palace had rushed to him and the Captain had changed directions and hurried from the garrison. Now d'Artagnan sat and waited and tried to figure out what he should do. He had not gone with them the night before as he felt a bad headache coming on and didn't wish to damper their evening. Now, he wished that he had accompanied them so that he would at least know where they were. He sat for several more minutes, then stood, his mind made up that he would go in search of his brothers. He was headed for the gates when a young boy came through and looked around before his eyes fell on d'Artagnan. The boy rushed over and looked up at the young musketeer.

"Hello, sir. I'm looking for the musketeer, d'Artagnan?" the boy announced.

"You've found him," d'Artagnan responded.

The boy held out a sealed, folded piece of parchment that was clutched in his hand. "This is for you," he said.

d'Artagnan took the parchment from the boy, but before he could ask who had given it to him to deliver, the boy turned and ran across the yard and through the gate. Sighing, d'Artagnan opened the parchment and began to read, his face paling and heart pounding as he finished. He looked around, but the garrison was abnormally quiet. He considered waiting for Treville to return to show him the letter, but it could be hours before his return. d'Artagnan read the letter again, then drew in a deep breath. Decision made, he scrambled up the stairs and hurried to the Captain's office. He laid the letter on the desk where Treville was sure to see it as soon as he returned, then he hurried back out onto the walkway, ran down the stairs and across the yard to the stables. He quickly prepared his horse, made sure he had his weapons then walked the horse out of the stables. He mounted the horse and with a quick look back at the garrison yard, he gave the horse a kick and left the garrison.

d'Artagnan rode for several hours, stopping only twice to allow his horse to rest and drink from a small stream next to the road. He had not taken the time to pack any provisions for himself, nor did he bring a water pouch, so he settled for kneeling at the stream and cupping water into his parched mouth. He was beginning to feel fatigue set in when finally, his destination came into view. He was thankful for his ability to easily memorize things he had read since he had felt the need to leave the letter behind. He stopped and surveyed his surroundings, weary that he was being watched. Not seeing anything, d'Artagnan guided his horse off the road and headed across a wide field to the small, rundown farm in the distance. If he was to believe the letter he received, this was where he would find his friends. He rode cautiously up to the small farmhouse. He looked around, uncertain now if he was in the right place as there seemed to be nobody around, when suddenly he found himself surrounded by five men, two of whom rushed forward and dragged his struggling form from his horse. He was forced into the farmhouse where a man stood, obviously awaiting his arrival.

"Ah, d'Artagnan…we finally meet," the man said as his eyes swept over the seething Gascon.

"Who are you? Where are my friends!" d'Artagnan hissed, his dark eyes narrowed as he glared at the man before him.

"All in due time, my young friend," the man said as he continued to study his prisoner, his attention sending a shiver down d'Artagnan's spine. "You're about the same size," the man then said, mostly to himself. He gave someone behind d'Artagnan a slight nod and suddenly, pain exploded through the young musketeer's head, his body going limp between the two men holding him. "Take him and get him out of those clothes. Dress him in the more appropriate clothing I have laid out in the bedroom, then secure him until I'm ready for him," the man instructed. The two men holding d'Artagnan nodded and dragged their captive away as Adalard d'Aubigny looked on with a smile on his face.

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Dusk was slowly making the change to night when d'Aubigny next entered the small shack that held his three prisoners. The three musketeers glared up at him as he stood over them. "It is time," d'Aubigny said. At these words, four men filed into the room. Without a word, two of the men went to Athos, one of them cutting away the bindings that held his wrists to the beam behind him while the other held a gun to his head to keep him from fighting. His wrists were tied once again, in front of him this time, and then the two men pulled him up from the ground and dragged him from the shack, Aramis and Porthos shouting and cursing the entire time, until the other two men came and did the same thing to Aramis, leaving Porthos to stare up at d'Aubigny with hatred in his eyes.

"I'm gonna kill you," Porthos hissed.

"Not likely," d'Aubigny retorted just as the two men who had taken Athos away came back and headed toward Porthos. The same as with Athos and Aramis, a gun was held to his head as one of the men cut the ropes around his wrists. He struggled when the man tried to re-tie his wrists, but stopped when the muzzle of the gun was painfully pressed to his head. Once he was bound, he was pulled up and dragged, just as his friends had been, out of the shack. What he saw when he was outside made his stomach knot. Athos and Aramis were kneeled on the ground, their wrists secured to metal rings bolted to posts embedded in the ground, their eyes staring at a large tree that had been turned into a makeshift gallows several feet away from them. Porthos was shoved to the ground beside Aramis and once he was arranged the way they wanted him and his rope secured to his own post, he glared up at d'Aubigny.

"So, you mean to 'ang us…or one of us," Porthos spat, his lip drawn up into a sneer. "'ow original."

d'Aubigny smiled down at the man, but didn't say a word. He motioned to a man who stood at the back door of an old, rundown farmhouse. The man nodded then turned and gave two quick knocks on the door. The three Inseparables watched as the door opened and two men emerged with a third man held between them, his head covered with a burlap bag, his feet bare. The three musketeers glanced at each other in confusion then turned back and watched as the man was led to the tree and made to stand next to the noose that hung down from one large branch. He struggled against the men who held him, but his struggles were weak, indicating he was either drugged or injured. When they reached the gallows the two men turned their captive until they faced d'Aubigny and his prisoners. With a quick glance over his shoulder at the three restrained men, d'Aubigny walked the distance to the tree and stood in front of the mystery man. He placed his hand almost lovingly on the side of his covered face, reaching behind and holding his neck when he tried to pull away from him, then turned to look at the musketeers.

"You three will not die today," d'Aubigny stated. "Instead, this man will die for your crimes. One innocent life for another innocent life," he added. He smiled at the confusion and anger he saw on the three men's faces.

"Don't do this, d'Aubigny. This man, whoever he is, has nothing to do with this…let him go and punish me, and only me, instead…for I led the investigation that led to your brother's execution," Athos called, his eyes moving to the man at the gallows when he began to shake his head and struggle even more with his captors.

"No, Athos of the King's musketeers…this is how it must play out. One innocent life for another…a brother for a brother," d'Aubigny said in response.

"What do ya mean, a brother for a brother?" Porthos asked, his heart suddenly racing in his chest.

d'Aubigny smiled again then turned to the man behind him. He reached up and grabbed the bag that covered his head and pulled it free. The three musketeers gasped when there, below the noose, stood their Gascon, his eyes wide and frightened as he met their gazes. He tried to call out to them, but the gag over his mouth prevented any words from forming.

"You son of a bitch!" Porthos hollered, his eyes wild as he looked from his young friend to the man who intended to murder him. "I'm going to rip you apart, one limb at a time!" he threatened as he tugged uselessly at the rope that held him captive.

"d'Artagnan," Aramis whispered brokenly as he took in his younger brother's trembling form and the terror in his eyes.

"If you harm him in any way, your punishment will be slow and painful…I can assure you of that," Athos hissed, his cold eyes narrowed at d'Aubigny. "Porthos is quite adept at making people suffer," he added.

d'Aubigny chuckled as he moved behind the chair that had been placed beneath the noose. "Just remember…his death is of your doing. Your innocent little brother, stolen from you like mine was stolen from me…watching him die as I watched mine die. Finally, you will know what it feels like to lose someone so dear to you that his absence will eat away at you until you have nothing left inside. You will be hollow shells, existing, but not truly living…just as I have been these past years."

"Don't do this. It will not bring your brother back," Aramis pleaded.

"You are right. It will not bring my brother back, but that isn't what this is about, now is it?" d'Aubigny said. He nodded to the men who held d'Artagnan and watched as one of the men covered his head once more with the bag. The other man reached for the noose and slipped it over d'Artagnan's head, then tightened it around his neck. The Gascon was forced up onto the chair and the rope was pulled until there was very little slack left, then finally, the other end of the rope was secured to the trunk of the tree.

The three musketeers were frantic in their attempts to break free of their bindings, their eyes never leaving their younger brother and the man who stood behind him. With a cold smile on his face, d'Aubigny stepped forward and glanced up at the now still Gascon. With the sound of the Inseparables cries of rage filling the night air, d'Aubigny kicked the chair away.

What in the hell did I just do!? I am evil...I know this and I accept this. Please, send me a quick message to let me know what you think. I'll have the rest posted by early next week. Thanks for reading!

Cindy