Hey everyone! I felt fine all week so I postponed the ultrasound. I can tell that the kidney stone is still there because I get twinges once in a while, (I named it 'Sidney de la Kidney' LOL) but I want to give it more time to pass by itself before submitting to surgery. Keep praying for me that it does!

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The rest of the night passed quietly, to everyone's relief. Breakfast came and went, and Aramis didn't wake again until nearly lunchtime.

Everyone was in the room except for Treville when a soft groan filled the air.

Porthos was sitting on the side of the bed having just checked the status of Aramis' fever, and he grasped his shoulder. "Hey!" he said. "You awake?"

It took a moment, but Aramis slowly opened his eyes and blinked up at the three faces above him. "Yes," he whispered. He frowned with thought, before asking, "What happened?"

"You were poisoned with belladonna," Athos told him once again.

"How long?"

All three of them were surprised at the question. Did Aramis finally remember?

"Two days ago," d'Artagnan answered.

Aramis blinked weakly as he processed the information. "Garrison?"

"Yes," Porthos said, smiling. "We're home."

Aramis sighed with relief. "Good." He tiredly closed his eyes, before reopening them and looking at Porthos. "Yes...I'm back."

Porthos' smile could've split his face in two when he heard Aramis coherently answer his question from the previous night. "It's about time!" he exclaimed. "You have no idea how much you terrified us, Aramis!"

"Sorry," Aramis tiredly mumbled.

Athos reached over to grasp his arm. "No apologies, Aramis; just rest."

Aramis closed his eyes again.

"Do you remember how many berries they fed you?" Athos asked.

Aramis was quiet, and they thought he'd fallen back to sleep before he suddenly said, "They told me…six or seven..."

Everyone's hearts seized in their chests. How had he survived?!

"No," Aramis said. "Spit out...most...of them. Chewed all...swallowed...two?" His voice grew weaker the more he spoke.

Porthos put a comforting hand on Aramis' head. "All right, quiet now."

Athos looked at d'Artagnan. "Fetch some soup; tell the captain that he's coherent."

D'Artagnan nodded and rushed out.

Athos and Porthos watched Aramis as he lay quietly, breathing a little too fast with lines of distress around his eyes.

Porthos squeezed his arm. "Are you in pain?" he asked.

"Headache," Aramis whispered.

Porthos sighed and ran a hand over their friend's hair in an attempt to soothe it. "Your stomach all right?" he asked, having no idea what other effects the belladonna could have on a body. "D'Artagnan is fetching you some soup."

Aramis nodded slightly, which was encouraging.

A minute later, Treville came in. Athos stood from where he sat on the bed so the captain could take his place.

"Aramis?" said Treville.

Aramis opened his eyes halfway and gave him a slight smile.

Sighing with relief, Treville smiled back and clasped his shoulder. "It's good to see you awake. How do you feel?"

It took a moment for Aramis to answer. His mind felt detached and he felt like he was viewing everything from afar. "Dizzy...headache. Feel like...I'm floating."

Treville nodded. "You pulled through, Aramis. You'll be fine."

Aramis smiled slightly again before closing his eyes.

D'Artagnan eventually came back with the soup and it became evident that Aramis was too weak to feed himself. He was unable to sit up on his own and Porthos pulled him upright while Athos stood up the pillows behind him.

Aramis' head fell forward when he was unable to hold it up, alarming the others, who didn't expect it.

"Aramis?" said Treville, quickly sitting on the bed and grabbing both sides of his face.

"Sorry," Aramis mumbled, eyes closed.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Treville told him. His words brought back the memory of saying the same thing to him the night before, and he wondered if Aramis remembered mistaking him for his father.

Porthos took the bowl from d'Artagnan and fed an unresistant Aramis, while Athos held onto their sick friend's arm to keep him upright. It took a long time to get the soup into him, and he was unable to finish it all, growing too weak to cooperate.

They laid him back down and stared at him as he slept.

"Is such extreme weakness normal?" d'Artagnan asked.

Treville sighed. "Perhaps we should get the doctor back here."

"I'll fetch him," d'Artagnan said. Without waiting for a response, he quickly left.

Porthos remained sitting on the side of the bed, staring at Aramis' pale face. He suddenly remembered Aramis' condition after Savoy; he'd hoped that their friend would never again be rendered so weak, and Porthos was upset to see him once again in such a state.

The doctor came quickly, and was glad to find Aramis still alive, especially considering that he'd been fed so many berries. "If he'd swallowed them all, he would've died quickly," he said.

No one had the emotional strength to answer.

The doctor did a thorough exam of Aramis, not seeming surprised when he didn't wake during it. "He's the most severe case of belladonna poisoning I've ever seen, but I think he'll live," he told the others. "Considering everything you've told me, especially about his heart, such weakness is likely normal. If he hasn't regained any strength by the day after tomorrow, I might reconsider my opinion."

Everyone was silent.

The doctor checked Aramis' pulse again, still noting some irregularity. He looked at Treville. "Even after he regains his strength, keep him off-duty until I say so. His heart has barely managed to handle the effects of the belladonna."

Treville nodded.

The doctor saw how upset everyone was. "Have hope; he's made it this far, so I won't be surprised if he makes it all the way." He gave them an encouraging smile, and left.

Porthos heaved a loud sigh once he was gone.

Aramis slept for the rest of the day and all through the evening, waking near midnight. He blearily blinked open his eyes without a sound, and simply looked around.

Everyone was sleeping in chairs around the bed, except for Athos, who was currently on watch. When he saw Aramis' eyes open, he smiled slightly and shifted to sit on the bed. "How are you feeling?" he whispered.

Aramis took a few seconds to answer, as his mind still felt foggy. "Confused."

Athos wasn't surprised. "About what?"

"I…remember things," said Aramis, tiredly. "Things that…don't make sense."

Athos poured some water and carefully lifted him up slightly to drink it. "Like what?"

"Wolves," Aramis told him. "Blue leaves…crows." He drank every drop of the water.

Athos poured more and continued to make him drink. "Are you in any pain?"

Aramis drank all of it again. "Head…chest."

That sent a shiver down Athos' spine, though he figured he shouldn't be surprised considering the awful strain on Aramis' heart. "Just rest; you'll be fine."

Aramis closed his eyes as Athos lowered him back down, and laid quietly until suddenly saying, "Sorry."

Athos frowned. "For what?"

"I think…I did something…to you?"

Athos shook his head, knowing that Aramis must be remembering thinking that he'd been poisoned. "No, Aramis, you tried to help me."

"Oh," Aramis whispered, eyes still closed. He suddenly gave a weak cough.

Athos frowned at the unexpected development, and placed a hand on his arm. "You all right?"

Aramis didn't answer, coughing again.

Athos frowned and tightened his grip. "Aramis," he sternly said.

A wince spread across Aramis' features, and he closed his eyes, raising a hand to his chest and trying to curl onto his side.

Athos helped him turn over before saying again, "Aramis? What is it?"

Aramis was still wincing, eyes closed.

Athos wrapped his fingers around his friend's wrist to check his pulse, and found it beating irregularly. "Aramis, if you don't answer me right now, I'll wake the others and get the doctor back here." In actuality, he was surprised that none of the others had woken, though they were whispering and he knew that everyone was exhausted.

Aramis opened his eyes and took a shuddering breath. "No…doctor. It's...passing."

"What is? Pain in your chest?"

Aramis nodded.

Athos sighed, forcing himself to remain outwardly calm for his friend's sake. Could the belladonna have permanently damaged Aramis' heart?

Aramis blinked a few times, exhaling as his body relaxed.

"Is the pain gone?" Athos asked.

Aramis nodded, blinking tiredly.

"Go back to sleep," Athos told him.

Aramis closed his eyes and obeyed.

Athos remained beside him with his fingers on his pulse, and noted that though Aramis' heart gave extra beats, it was steady and strong...or as strong as it could be, considering. In light of that, he decided not to fetch the doctor until morning.

Two hours later, Treville woke up and offered to take over. Athos motioned for him to follow him to the corner of the room so as not to wake the others, and he told him what had happened.

Treville was alarmed. "You should've woken us!"

Athos shook his head. "It didn't even last thirty seconds."

"What if his heart had given out and he needed help?" Treville hissed.

Athos sighed. "It the pain hadn't passed so quickly, I would have woken the entire garrison if I had to!"

Treville sighed before nodding, knowing that Athos would never knowingly do something to risk his friend's life. They both headed back to the bed, and Treville took over the watch...keeping his fingers on Aramis' pulse, as Athos had done.

Athos found it difficult to go back to sleep. When he suddenly opened his eyes and found sunlight shining into the room, he was surprised.

Porthos was sitting on the bed, staring at Aramis and holding his hand.

Athos suddenly realized that his fingers were on their friend's pulse, just he and Treville had done. "Has he woken?" he asked.

"No," said Porthos. "Treville told us what happened."

Athos turned his head to find that d'Artagnan was gone from the room. "It didn't happen again, then?" he asked.

Porthos shook his head.

Athos was relieved at that. "He sent d'Artagnan for the doctor, I assume?"

Porthos nodded.

It wasn't long before the doctor arrived and quickly checked Aramis over. "His heartbeat seems better than it did yesterday," he said. "Just ensure that he continues to rest. Sleep is the best thing for him; belladonna takes days to leave the body."

Everyone was encouraged by that, and even though they wanted to see Aramis awake, they let him sleep through breakfast and lunch. When he finally woke in the early afternoon, they were overjoyed to see him looking less tired; his eyes were fully open instead of halfway.

"How long has it been?" was his first question.

"Three days," Athos told him.

Aramis didn't seem surprised. "Did I…hurt anyone?" he asked, his memory not completely intact.

Everyone shook their heads.

Aramis stared at them for a few seconds, and was relieved to see that they were telling the truth.

"How do you feel?" Porthos asked.

"Better," Aramis told them. "Not so…confused."

"Do you remember everything?" d'Artagnan asked.

"I'm not sure," Aramis said. "Some things are…hazy."

Everyone was overjoyed to see that Aramis seemed stronger, even if only a little.

"Is there any pain in your chest?" Treville asked.

"No," Aramis told him. Suddenly he frowned before his face dawned with shock, making everyone nervous.

"Aramis?" said Porthos, grabbing his arm.

Aramis looked at him, before glancing at d'Artagnan and Treville and back to Porthos again. "I tried to shoot you!" he realized.

Of everything he could've remembered; they'd wished that it hadn't been that.

"You weren't in your right mind," said Athos.

Aramis looked at him. "Athos...I thought you...and then I..."

"Calm down right now," Treville said, grasping his shoulder. "Getting upset isn't good for your heart."

Aramis was breathing heavily. "What if I'd fired?"

"But you didn't," said d'Artagnan.

Aramis looked away and tried to remember who he'd actually been aiming at, but was pulled away from his thoughts when someone tightly grasped his hand.

It was Athos. "Aramis, look at me."

Aramis did.

"Feel this?" Athos said, raising their joined hands. "This is real; what the belladonna made you think was not. You knew who they were despite what the poison was saying, and I know that you would not have fired, even had we not taken the gun away from you."

Aramis stared at him, saying nothing. His breathing was audible, and it was obvious that his heartbeat had increased.

"You would not have fired, Aramis," Athos repeated, desperate to calm him down before Aramis' anxious state caused harm to his heart. "Say it; 'I would not have fired'."

"I would not have fired," Aramis repeated.

"Good. Every time you think of that incident, say to yourself; 'I would not have fired'. Say it."

"I would not have fired," Aramis repeated again. "I would not have fired." He looked at Porthos—his closest friend—and the thought of seeing him bloody and dead on the floor by his own hand made his resolve crumble. "Porthos—"

"You would not have fired, Aramis," Porthos told him.

Aramis looked away.

"They're right," said d'Artagnan. "We saw you, Aramis. You would not have fired."

Aramis looked at him with hope in his eyes. Was he perhaps not remembering the whole incident?

Treville picked up on his thoughts and decided to embellish the facts. "You raised the gun, but you lowered it after," he lied. "You realized who we were, Aramis, but we had to take the gun from you anyway."

"Of course you did," Aramis agreed. He suddenly closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath as he finally believed their words. "I would not have fired," he whispered, with relief.

Everyone gave him a moment to collect himself before quickly changing the subject, lest he start doubting himself again.

"You need to eat," Treville told him, heading to the fire where Serge's special soup was warming in a pot.

Aramis was quiet as he fetched it, calming down and catching his breath as the captain brought it back. His brain still felt foggy and he wondered when he'd be able to think straight again.

Porthos took the soup from Treville and sat on the bed with a twinkle in his eye. "All the way from the pope's cook in Italy," he said to Aramis.

Aramis looked at him askance, before understanding dawned in his eyes. "I actually said that?"

Everyone nodded. "Amongst other things," Porthos answered.

Aramis chuckled...and it was the most welcome sound they could've ever heard.

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After that day, Aramis steadily recovered. He had no more chest pains but his mind was still foggy and his body was still weak. His heart would throw an extra beat once in a while, so the doctor told him not to get out of bed and his friends enforced it. A week after he'd been poisoned by the belladonna, the doctor said that he could get up, and Aramis was eager to do so.

"Hold on, there!" said Porthos, reaching out to grab him when Aramis threw back the covers. "Not so fast."

Aramis sighed. "Porthos, I am desperate to get out of this bed."

"Are you desperate to fall flat on your face?" said d'Artagnan.

Aramis rolled his eyes and watched as Athos fetched him some clothes. They helped him dress and Porthos sat beside him to pull one of his arms around his neck before Aramis had a chance to stand.

"Porthos—" he started to say.

"Stop right there," Porthos interrupted. "You have no idea what your heart was doin' the first two days. I either help you walk or you go back into bed."

Aramis quieted after seeing the apprehensive looks on his friend's faces. They were obviously afraid to see how his heart was going to react to exertion. He submitted as Porthos helped him stand, and watched as everyone stared as if waiting for him to pass out. He tried to hide the dizzy spell that struck him, but didn't succeed.

"Aramis?" said Athos, holding onto his other arm.

"I'm fine," Aramis told them. He blinked a few times before trying to take a step, but they held him back. With a sigh, Aramis lifted his wrist towards Athos, knowing that the only way he was going to get out of the room was if they were satisfied that his heart was beating normally.

Athos placed his fingers on Aramis' wrist, and a few seconds later, he nodded at Porthos.

Aramis gave him a bright smile and started slowly walking out of the room. By the time they got to the top of the stairs, he was breathing heavily and Athos was checking his pulse again.

Aramis looked out on the courtyard, seeing musketeers milling about. No one had noticed him yet, and he was glad, slightly annoyed at how much the other three were hovering. He hid it though, understanding that they'd been through hell watching him suffer from the poison.

"Your heartbeat is fast," Athos said.

"Of course it is," Aramis answered. "I'm finally moving after lying in bed for a week! Is it skipping?"

"No."

"Is it doing extra beats?"

Athos waited a few seconds before saying, "No."

"Has it stopped?"

"Not funny, Aramis!" said d'Artagnan.

Aramis sobered. "I'm sorry, that was insensitive. Blame my foggy mind." He winced, having not wanted them to know that he still felt off. "Athos, it's normal for my heart to react. Trust me."

Athos looked at him silently, and Aramis could see the emotion that only him, Porthos, d'Artagnan, and Treville were ever allowed to witness.

"I'm sorry, my friends, for what you've been through all this time," Aramis said. He remembered most of the hallucinations that he'd had, and didn't know how on earth the others had dealt with it all.

"It's not your fault," said Porthos. He looked at Athos and gestured with his head down the stairs.

Athos nodded, and they carefully helped Aramis descend them.

Once at the bottom, they quickly sat Aramis down at the table, and Athos checked his pulse again. It wasn't doing anything alarming, so everyone relaxed.

They let Aramis spend most of the day outside, which was a balm to his soul. The sun was shining, the weather was warm, and it was a beautiful day…unlike the bizarre things he'd seen in his mind…snow, cold, purple leaves…crows…

Aramis started to feel uneasy as nighttime approached. Memories of the hallucinations he'd suffered kept coming to his mind once the sun had set, and he wondered why it was bothering him now, a week after the incident.

"Aramis?" came Porthos' voice, as they ate supper in his room.

Aramis looked at him.

"Are you all right? You're pale," Porthos told him.

"He hasn't stopped being pale yet," said d'Artagnan.

Porthos shot him an exasperated look. "I mean paler."

"Porthos is right," Athos said.

"I'm fine," Aramis told them.

After a predictable check of his pulse showed that his heart was beating normally, they made him go to sleep, and Aramis' dreams plunged him back into the cold forest of Savoy…

Dead musketeers lay all around Aramis, but one of them was unexpectedly alive. "Porthos!" he exclaimed.

No answer came, and Aramis stared at his closest friend who knelt on the ground with crows standing on him.

"Porthos!" Aramis said again. "You weren't in Savoy."

Porthos looked up at him and didn't say a word.

"Aramis! Wake up!"

With a gasp, Aramis did, finding his three friends around his bed. Porthos was sitting on it beside him, and Aramis grabbed his arms. "You weren't in Savoy!"

Porthos frowned. "No, I wasn't!"

Aramis tried to catch his breath, and was eventually aware of Athos checking his pulse for the hundredth time. His mind was still foggy and he felt disoriented. "Stop it!" he exclaimed in frustration.

Athos let go.

The three of them simply sat around him, quietly giving Aramis time to collect himself.

"I saw you," Aramis finally said to Porthos. "Sitting on the ground with…crows on you."

Porthos nodded. "The same thing happened after you were poisoned. We thought you'd forgotten when you never mentioned it with the other things you remembered."

"And we certainly weren't going to remind you," said d'Artagnan.

Aramis took a deep breath and let it out loudly.

"Go back to sleep," said Athos. "We are all here should you need us."

In an instant, Aramis' mind suddenly cleared, as if his brain had been waiting to hear that. Aramis nodded and closed his eyes. As he drifted off towards slumber again, he thanked God that his friends were always there when he needed them…and he knew that they always would be.

THE END