Aramis

He was immersed in pain, but could not localize its source. It was if his whole body was on fire. Just the simple act of breathing was a challenge. Perhaps there was no reason to fight.

His mind immediately presented him with an image of a pair of hazel eyes, pleading with him to maintain eye contact. He had obviously failed that plea, as his own eyes were shut. He could not let his friend down so badly. He had no right to abandon his little brother.

Aramis struggled to open his eyes, although something inside him screamed at him not to do it. As he became more and more aware of his surroundings, he knew he would regret it.

Humiliation started to prevail over the pain. All he wanted to do was to escape in the blackness. He longed to flee from the knowledge of what they had done to him- and what they were doing to him now.

He had been drugged or poisoned-it really did not matter which. His skin was exquisitely tender to touch. He guessed that even having clothing resting against it would hurt. He had experienced being whipped before, but it had never been so painful.

His other senses were dimmed, overwhelmed by the pain. His throat was sore. Had he been screaming? He did not like the answer that his mind gave him.

"Break them!" That had been Allancourt's order.

He still heard it ringing in his head. The nobleman had left immediately after giving the order. Aramis assumed that his torturers had received precise instructions earlier. These three men were natural born torturers. They obviously loved their work. Their attitude caused instinctive contempt on his part. Aramis hated men who thrived on the pain of others.

Break them…

It should not have been so easy. After all they were musketeers, weren't they?

But…what did that really mean?

He was a traitor. He had betrayed his King. He had betrayed his friends.

"Look after d' Artagnan." Those had been Athos' instructions.

And he had certainly made a fine job of it, he thought morosely. They had both been captured. He had to admit that the ambush had been well planned. He would have fought longer if it had not been for the strange powder that had been thrown in his face. He suspected that it had been the reason that his body had betrayed him so completely. He probably was deserving of his fate. However, d'Artagnan….

He had sworn to protect the boy. He knew it was impossible to shield him completely from cruelty. After all, d'Artagnan had chosen the life of a soldier. However, the atrocities they were experiencing were very rare and very cruel, even for fighting men.

He had tried to help. He had done his best, although it had ultimately been for nothing. He had stared at the cooling body of his fellow musketeer, the pistol still held tightly in the man's hand as the puddle of blood spread around his head.

"Aramis, thank you, but I was beyond saving. I know you tried, and for that, I am grateful. Forgive me. Marcel de Vannaire." A few words written as a farewell by the man who had been too damaged to fight the next day.

He could only hope that Athos would manage to save their little brother. Aramis knew that he had to hang on until they were found by their friends. He was painfully aware that Athos and Porthos were on a long mission. They were not supposed to be back for a week or so.

If only he had been stronger! If he had been fit, Athos would not have left them behind. Their leader would never have left d'Artagnan by himself.

Aramis had tried very hard to regain his strength. He had spent most of free time training. The fatigue at the end of each day had actually been welcome, because when he was really tired, he did not dream. However, all his physical work had not been sufficient to pass Athos' inspection. What was missing? He had forgotten to fake joy. He had not laughed. He had teased Porthos only rarely. That was why Athos had decided he would be a liability during the mission. He had to admit that the older musketeer probably was right.

Aramis finally managed to lift his eyelids. D'Artagnan's eyes, full of anguish and pain, gave a small sign of relief when he met his comrade's gaze. The boy's face was covered in blood. He was biting his lips in order not to scream. However, he could not stop the helpless whimpering coming from his throat.

Aramis focused on his little brother's face. He tried to convey with his eyes all the friendship, support, and hope that he sadly could not feel in his heart.

But that was not entirely true. He should have felt no hope at all, but deep down, he still believed that his brothers would find them. He still called them brothers, although he knew their brotherhood had probably been destroyed. No! He would not accept that thought!

He knew Porthos badly wanted him to live. Would his friend change his mind once he knew what had happened? Aramis knew that Porthos logically should do so, but a part of him did not entirely agree. A part of him guessed that the big man would never give up on him, even when it would be the wisest thing to do.

Pain once more took its hold on him. His surroundings began to grow dim, and only a pair of hazel eyes remained before him.

Someone screamed desperately. The voice sounded so rough!

And then-the silent blackness.

"Aramis?" A panicked whisper reached him.

"It's alright…" he managed to say hoarsely.

The thick smoke scratched his throat.

"Don't lie to me, Aramis! We have to escape!"

The boy was right. Aramis tried to move, but found that he was shackled to the cage in which they were being held.

"Any idea how to escape?" he rasped.

"Not yet.."

Aramis tested the shackles. Nothing.

He looked around, but could not see anything useful within his reach. His clothes were lying in a heap in the same cellar. Weapons were hidden inside, but they were too far away to be of any use. It was only then that he realized he was naked. Perhaps that explained why he was so cold? His mind was not working properly. Was it because of drugs, or had he sustained one head injury too many?

"They'll find us, d'Artagnan. Have faith!"

But did he himself have any?

*Italian proverb – the hope is the last to die

Special thanks to Riversidewren for beta-ing.