A.N. I know. I know. Not fair to publish a new story when I have a WIP but this one wouldn't leave me alone and unlike "Leave no man behind", this one is almost finished. That being said I'm not abandoning my other story and will update it... Soon... :) This story is another Aramis and Athos centric one (yes I'm quite unable to leave them alone) however as a reversal this one is Athos physical whump and Aramis emotional whump. As always fair warning guys I can't write action or physical violence well. It is a huge challenge for me to set a background as I'm used to writing episode tags so please bear with me and please provide your feedback whether good or bad.

Also this one is an AU fic as far as Aramis' background goes.

As always anything you recognise does not belong to me.

"You know this convesation'd go a lot smoother if you just accept that I'm right", the big man threatened his younger much thinner companion however all he received for his efforts were a snort

"Yeah right", the answer came right back. "You actually expect me to believe that!"

"C'mon Athos. Tell him I'm right", Porthos almost pouted as he turned wide eyes to his leader

When Athos failed to even deign him with a glance and instead continued to just stare at the bars of the cell as if he could evaporate them with just his glare Porthos decided to give up on him and turned back to the cheekily smiling Gascon. "It doesn't matter", he argued with all the fervour of a man who knows he's losing but can't afford to back out.

"Porthos", D'Artagnan spoke slowly as if he were addressing a child or an idiot, "We have not been kidnapped more ever since I joined the team. I refuse to believe that you lot have been grabbed less than the five or six times that we have been held prisoner…", here he stopped as even Athos turned towards him with a snort. "What?" he huffed out when the older man only raised one of his eloquent eyebrows.

Before any of them could say anything further however the quiet was shattered by a groan from the till now silent member of the team and three relieved sighs could be held as their marksman finally came to after having been knocked out from a blow to the back of the head.

"Aramis", Athos called out gently trying to rouse the other man as Porthos let out a growl at his inability to go to his friend's side, the bonds across his ankles and his hands tied at the back, making that an impossibility.

Another groan came from the still prone man on the floor and this time their friend twitched slightly.

"Aramis, can you hear me", Porthos called out all trace of earlier levity gone.

Another groan and then an almost whispered "Shut up", was heard.

At this D'Artagnan let out a weak chuckle. "Welcome back", he said quietly in deference to the headache the other man was sure to have.

"Wha'", Aramis muttered. In trying to lift his hands to his pounding head he had discovered that they were bound at the back.

"We are being held hostage. You took a blow to the back of the head and have been unconscious for the last few hours we have been here", Athos explained succinctly. "Oh! And your hands are bound at the back which is why you are unable to move them", he added helpfully.

Aramis snorted at the explanation and then groaned at the pain it caused.

"Aramis", Porthos' voice called out again and this time Aramis growled. "Stop saying my name as if you do not expect me to respond to it. I'm not asleep".

"You know we could actually believe that if you opened your eyes right", D'Artagnan called out in his usual cheeky tones.

At this Aramis only snorted again. And let out another groan at the pain it caused.

"Stop that", he stated again even as attempted to do as his friend had asked. It felt as if white hot pokers assaulted his eyes the minute he opened them however and he clenched them shut again, his groan more pained this time.

"Aramis", Athos' whose voice was low and steady however Aramis was unable to respond to him. He was quite certain that if he opened his mouth it would only be vomit and not words that would come out. Instead he stayed silent and breathed lightly through his nose even as he willed his rebellious stomach to settle down.

"Give me… a minute", he managed to gasp out.

After a few more shallow breaths when he was sure he wouldn't bring up his last meal, he opened his eyes again this time to mere slits, the scene in front of him making him wish he hadn't.

Pushing himself up with another pained groan he found that they were in a prison cell of some sort the corridor extending some meters in front of them before the path curved off sharply to the left, the feeble light of their room, which had to at one point felt brighter to his aching head not enough to illuminate anything further.

Turning his vision back inside the cell, he found his friends tied up just as he was, all of them relatively unharmed, except for a few scratches here and there. That was all he was able to see anyway. Before he could ask however Athos responded to just his searching gaze. "We're all fine. D'Artagnan argued with one of our captors and took a backhanded blow to his cheek for his efforts. Your head got the worst of it I'm afraid"

Aramis didn't respond to that. "Where are we", he asked them instead.

His question sent a spike of worry through his companions. "What's the las' thing you rememba'", Porthos questioned him.

Aramis squinted at his friend even as he tried to recall what they had been doing. "We were on our way to deliver…" he began hesitantly. "No wait. We were on our way back to Paris after delivering a letter to…", here he squinted and stopped again. "I'm afraid my memory is a bit foggy", he admitted with a shrug.

Then spotting his companions worried countenance he added, "Do not worry my friends. Temporary loss of memory is a usual side effect of concussion which I'm almost certain I'm suffering from. There isn't much we can do except wait. I'm sure I will recall what happened when this headache has passed", he tried to reassure them.

Not sure whether to believe him or not and well aware that there wasn't anything they would be able to do for their comrade anyway Athos decided to answer his original question. "We were taken prisoner a few miles outside of Paris and brought to wherever here is". At the other man's questioning look he added, "We were blindfolded and our jailors have left us alone for now".

"So we have no idea who has taken us hostage or what they want from us or even how far we are from Paris", Aramis summed up the situation neatly.

"I'm certain we are no more than half a day's ride away from the garrison", D'Artagnan tried to be helpful. "We hadn't ridden for more than half an hour blindfolded I'd wager and slowly at that".

"Yes, but we still have no idea of who has us or what they want", Aramis countered.

"I think we are about to find out", Athos told them calmly even as they all heard the approaching footsteps.

At first all Aramis was able to see was the bright light of the torch the men carried but as his eyes adjusted he found three men looking through the bars of his cell, the men on the left and right standing slightly behind with muskets pointed at them. However it was the third man, the one who held the torch who caused all the colour to drain from the face of the marksman.

"It is wonderful to see you again René", the man called out even managing to sound friendly. Aramis only flinched as if he had been struck.

"René…", D'Artagnan let the question hang however Athos shut him with a glare before he turned back towards Aramis.

The other man did not respond either to D'Artagnan's unasked question or to his friends' searching gaze. His entire concentration was on the man outside his cell. His mind was reeling even as he fought once again to settle his rolling stomach. 'How was this possible', he wondered. He had thought the man in front of him dead, or at least rotting in a prison cell paying for his crimes.

Impatient at the lack of response from his captive the man who was obviously the leader just snapped his fingers and three more men approached at his silent command. One of them got on his knees to open the cell door even as the other two held their own weapons pointed at the Musketeers. It was a silent warning to not try anything.

Entering the cell the torch still held aloft the leader of the band silently commanded the Musketeers to back off towards the wall. When his command was not obeyed however he once again snapped his fingers and the Musketeers found the now four guns outside pointed at Aramis' head. "My men will not hesitate to shoot", he told them almost casually, "Or miss from this distance", he added as an incentive.

Painfully aware that there was nothing they could but obey Porthos nevertheless let out an angry growl even as they all backed up. Their captor only smirked at the big man however before turning back towards Aramis effectively dismissing all of them. Aramis was the only one who hadn't moved and was still staring at the man as if he had seen a ghost.

Aramis' continued silence whilst it worried his three companions only roused anger on the face of his captor. For a moment he silently studied the Musketeer in front of him before pulling him roughly to his feet causing the other man to let out a pained groan and clench his eyes shut again.

Porthos growled at the treatment being meted out to his best friend even as D'Artagnan watched in concern as the marksman's skin paled even further. Only Athos managed to remain calm, on the face of it at least.

"C'mon Aramis it is not like you to ignore me this way", their captor called out his voice still casual. At this Aramis opened his eyes once more and stared at the man holding them captive.

"Fernando", he managed to breathe out

"It's good to see you again little brother", Fernando called out in Spanish even as Athos who was the only one who could understand even a little of the language gasped in stunned surprise.