The three musketeers rode towards the cemetery, and Porthos was dismounted and headed to his friend's horse before Aramis even had a chance to move. He reached up to help him off, holding his arm tightly when Aramis winced after stepping down.

"I'm all right," Aramis told him. The light shaking that vibrated through his arm contradicted him, but Porthos said nothing as they headed towards the area where the twenty slaughtered musketeers lay in their eternal rest.

Aramis heaved a heavy sigh as they quietly stood there, before suddenly leaning against Athos, who wrapped an arm around his back to keep him upright in case his legs were failing him.

Porthos ran back to the horses and grabbed his bedroll, bringing it back and spreading it out on the snow. "Sit him down," he said to Athos.

Athos obeyed and the two of them sat beside their friend before the graves, quietly allowing him to mourn. There wasn't a single sound in the air as the snow lightly fell, and it was eerie. The silence of the dead came to Athos' mind.

Aramis had so much to say but he couldn't think of a single word. He tried to hold the tears back as he looked at each grave, not wanting to make his headache any worse. "It was senseless," he suddenly said. "So senseless!"

The others nodded. "Someday, the man responsible will pay," Athos told him.

Aramis sighed.

They sat there for a long time, until Aramis was ready to leave. The throbbing headache on the right side of his head had calmed a little as they sat there, but it renewed itself when he stood and he winced, closing his eyes. "Ow," he gasped.

The others held onto his arms and waited until he was ready to move, and they helped him onto his horse and slowly rode away.

Aramis was quiet on the way back to the garrison, saying nothing even after dismounting and leaving the stable. Once back in his room, he let his friends remove his outer clothing and put him back to bed, where he quickly fell asleep.

Athos and Porthos were as quiet as they could be, watching their friend for any sign of nightmares. They were surprised as time passed and he remained peaceful, but they knew better than to let their guard down.

Three hours later, Aramis made a sound and turned his head, scrunching his eyes shut tighter than they already were.

Porthos, ever sympathetic, put a hand on his friend's head and smoothed his hair back, hoping that it would soothe the nightmare away and perhaps even help his headache.

Aramis started breathing heavier and making distressed noises, and Porthos whispered nonsense to him, hoping to calm him.

To their relief, it appeared to work, for Aramis slowly quieted and was once more still.

Porthos didn't leave his side, continuing to smooth his hair back until he was positive that Aramis was calmed.

Athos eventually went to get them some food, and they spent the afternoon quietly watching Aramis sleep. He woke just before the evening meal and blinked at them groggily.

Porthos flashed him a happy smile. "There you are," he said. "Feeling better?"

Aramis looked around a little, seeming confused.

"Aramis?" said Athos.

Aramis looked at them.

"How is your head?"

Aramis opened his mouth to answer, before closing it again.

The other two frowned, but before they had a chance to grow overly concerned, their friend spoke.

"It's better." The confusion faded from his face, and they realized that he must've had trouble coming out of a dream.

"Are you hungry?" Porthos asked.

"Always thinking of food," Aramis said with a slight smile.

The others were glad to hear the quip. "Of course!" Porthos said, with a chuckle.

Athos went over to the fire where a pot of soup was warming. He brought Aramis a bowl and they watched as he ate it. "You look better," he said. "Mentally."

"Glad that today is almost over," Aramis told them as he ate.

The door suddenly gave a quiet squeak and Treville peeked his head around the corner before walking inside. "I didn't want to knock in case you were sleeping," he explained. He walked over to the bed and studied Aramis, thinking that he looked a little better than he had earlier.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that was you outside this morning," Aramis said.

Treville shook his head. "You have no reason to apologize, I'm just glad that I spotted you out there."

Aramis nodded. "Thank you."

Treville stayed for a while, seeing for himself that his musketeer was reasonably all right, considering, before eventually leaving. Before he went, he reached down to grasp Aramis' shoulder. "It'll get easier, I promise."

Aramis smiled slightly with a nod.

Afterwards, Athos tried to convince him to go back to sleep.

"Not until midnight," Aramis told him. "Not until it's tomorrow."

Athos crossed over to the window and looked out, locating the big 'spoon' in the sky. "You still have a few hours yet."

"Why are you waitin'?" Porthos asked.

"If I know that today is over, it might be easier to sleep," Aramis said.

In either words, maybe there'd be no nightmares.

For the next few hours, Porthos and Athos told Aramis stories about their childhoods, keeping his mind off Savoy as much as they could. Athos was more reluctant to talk of his life before joining the musketeers, but he eventually regaled them with stories of mischief that he'd been involved in or caused.

"I bet you were a right little stinker!" Porthos exclaimed, with a laugh.

Athos smiled slightly. "I've been known to be."

Porthos looked at Aramis and saw that his eyes were closed. He was reclined upright, breathing softly, completely limp. Putting out a hand to stop Athos from talking, Porthos gestured to him.

Athos stood and looked out the window. "It's nearly midnight."

"Good," said Porthos. "I suppose we need to wake him to tell him?"

Athos nodded. "Otherwise he'll wake up himself not knowing." He headed over to the bed and sat on the side of it, touching his arm gently. "Aramis?"

Their friend blearily opened his eyes.

"It's midnight; the day is over," Athos told him.

Aramis smiled slightly. "Thank you." He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

Athos and Porthos looked at each other and sighed with relief.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning dawned bright and sunny. It was also a little warmer, and the snow that had fallen the day before was melting a little under the direct sunlight.

Athos and Porthos sat in chairs on either side of Aramis' bed, waiting for him to wake. To their surprise and relief, he'd slept all night without evidence of nightmares. Morning muster had come and gone, with Treville not questioning why neither of them had attended. They'd had breakfast in Aramis' room, and their friend had slept on.

"At least he should feel good physically whenever he decides to wake up," Porthos commented.

Athos nodded; they could only hope.

It was five minutes later when Aramis suddenly stirred and stretched. He laid there with his eyes closed for another few seconds before his eyes popped open as he remembered what had happened.

Porthos waved at him. "Mornin'."

Aramis sat up slightly, looking between him and Athos. "Good morning." He looked towards the window, seeing the sunlight.

"How do you feel?" Athos asked.

"Much better," Aramis told him. "The headache is gone."

Porthos smiled. "You slept forever," he told him. "It's long after muster."

Aramis was surprised. "Guess I needed it."

Porthos nodded. "Yup, and now you need food."

Aramis ate and dressed, and soon they were heading outside into the garrison courtyard.

Treville spotted them and headed over. "Aramis," he said. "You look good."

"Why, thank you, Captain," Aramis replied. "How nice of you to say."

Everyone chuckled; glad to see him in good spirits.

"Have anything for us?" Aramis asked.

Treville thought for a minute. He wasn't fooled into thinking that Aramis was completely fine, but he could see that he obviously wanted things to go back to normal. "Actually, I have a list of supplies for garrison that needs to be delivered to our vendor. I was saving it for someone to take tomorrow, but if you'd like to do it today..."

Aramis nodded, adjusting his hat. "Messenger-boy it is."

Treville took it out of his pocket and handed it to him, watching as the three musketeers walked over to the stable, saddled up, and left. As he watched them leave the gate, he hoped that the second anniversary of Savoy wouldn't come as quickly as the first.

THE END