All for One: ABC's of D'Artagnan whump
A/N: So this will be a series of oneshots focusing on D'Artagnan whump with prompts from the letters of the alphabet. I saw this in a different fandom and thought it was cool so I decided to try it. I will most definitely take prompts so if you have an idea please let me know. Also some letters might have two stories if I couldn't decide which one I liked better. For A the timeline of D'Artagnan and Constance's relationship is tweaked for the sake of the story so please bear with me. Thank you so so much for reading and please review!
A is for Accident: While training Athos hurts D'Artagnan. The first 90% is Musketeer centric, the last bit is D'Artagnan/Constance.
Porthos and Aramis looked on while Athos fought D'Artagnan. The Gascon was still healing from his injuries but was keeping up remarkably well with the older man. It was evident that he was tiring though- and that his focus was not entirely on the match.
Athos swung again, this swipe nearly taking the younger man's head off had he not deflected it at the last minute. Athos could tell that his heart was not truly in the fight, and that his head was elsewhere. Athos had told the boy many times that he needed to keep his emotions out of his fights but D'Artagnan still failed to grasp the concept. Athos pushed harder against him, attempting to catch him off guard so that he could prove his point. He was tempted to end the fight in order to ask him what was wrong, but he doubted D'Artagnan would tell him so he carried on. As luck would have it he saw D'Artagnan beginning to slow and Athos pressed his advantage, swinging faster and hitting harder. He was waiting for the moment he could deliver a "killing" blow to force the end of that match and allow him to talk to the younger man. However when that time came and he swung his sword towards D'Artagnan's throat, the word "Yield" already on his lips, D'Artagnan failed to move in the way Athos expected. Unable to stop the motion of his blade, Athos could only attempt to send it down to the side so that it didn't sever the man's neck. Instead it sliced cleanly into D'Artagnan's shoulder. Athos choked on the breath in his throat as he pulled the sword away, blood dripping from the tip. D'Artagnan reacted to the pain as his instincts were trained to. He perceived the threat and raised his own sword back up to deliver a return blow before he could think. Another half-second later and he realized there was no threat and dropped his sword. Aramis and Porthos both had lept to their feet as they saw the blow come down and were now at D'Artagnan's side.
Without hesitating, Athos shed his jacket and pushed it against the wound. "I'm so sorry, D'Artagnan." He muttered, "I swear it was an accident."
D'Artagnan nodded, a grimace set on his lips, "It's fine." He said tersely, "I know you didn't mean to." Aramis peeled the jacket back to look at the injury, all the while shooting glares at Athos. Porthos steadied D'Artagnan as Aramis prodded at the wound, eliciting a groan from the younger man. Athos looked on, unsure of what to do, his heart thudding painfully in his chest as he realized what he had done. Blood had already soaked through D'Artagnan's shirt and was dripping on the ground, and he was turning unnaturally paler by the minute. D'Artagnan tried to push Porthos and Aramis away, mumbling something about how he was fine. Aramis stepped back after his continued struggles, fearing that it would further worsen the wound, and motioned for Porthos to do the same.
D'Artagnan tried to push his way forward but barely moved two steps before swaying. Athos lept forward and caught him by the uninjured arm.
"Come on," he said quietly, "let Aramis take a look at you."
D'Artagnan tried to push him away and Athos found his lack of strength even more troubling. "I'm fine." D'Artagnan tried to argue but Athos just shook his head. He half guided, half pushed D'Artagnan to the upper levels of the garrison where there were unoccupied rooms and sat him in a chair. Aramis knelt down next to him and continued his examination. He stood back up and replaced the jacket.
"Keep pressure on it." He directed Porthos, "I'm going to go grab my supplies- he'll need stitches." Porthos nodded in affirmation before turning his attention back to the injured Gascon. Athos paced the room worriedly.
D'Artagnan sighed, "Please, Athos, would you stop that? I'm not going to die in the three minutes it requires for Aramis to retrieve his kit."
Athos shook his head and ran a hand down his face. "I swear, I never meant to injure you." He said finally.
D'Artagnan nearly rolled his eyes in frustration, "Yes, Athos, I know that." He replied, "If you were going to kill me you probably would have done it a week ago by shooting me in the heart rather than the side."
Porthos leaned a bit closer and said in a gruff whisper, "I wouldn't mention that, I think that's one of the things he's upset about."
D'Artagnan shot a confused look at Porthos, then at Athos. For what reason would Athos be upset about their most recent mission? There was no reason for him for feel any guilt or blame for what happened. Athos just shook his head and sat down heavily in a chair across from D'Artagnan. Porthos shifted slightly as his grip started to slip and D'Artagnan let out a low groan of pain.
"I'm sorry." Porthos quickly apologized.
D'Artagnan shook his head and mumbled, "It's fine." His face however, which had grown a shade paler, told a different story.
"Aramis will be back in a minute." Athos assured, to which D'Artagnan nodded mutely- his face contorted in a grimace. True to Athos' word, Aramis appeared a moment later and began to set up his supplies. Once the needle was threaded he had Porthos peel away the makeshift bandage, causing D'Artagnan to groan again as the skin was pulled painfully.
"I'm sorry." Porthos apologized again, hating the fact that he was causing their youngest pain. D'Artagnan brushed it off with another shake of his head, his breaths coming out as small pants.
"Here." Aramis said, handing D'Artagnan a small bottle. Without hesitating he took a large swing, then immediately pulled the bottle back and coughed, his face twisting up as he grimaced at the offending bottle. The other three let out chuckles at his glare. "Yes," Aramis stated, voice alight with humor, "it's quite strong." D'Artagnan sighed and took another large swing with a look that clearly read, 'might as well'.
Athos leaned towards Porthos and whispered, "Is he sure we shouldn't just knock him out? That's going to be quite a few stitches."
Porthos shrugged, "If it comes to it." Athos leaned back, seemingly accepting of his answer.
D'Artagnan went to take another sip from the bottle but Aramis snatched it from his hands. "It's not just to drink, you know." He said.
D'Artagnan sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, letting his eyes close. "Do it." he mumbled.
Aramis shifted the bottle in his hand, "For what it's worth, this will hurt me more than it will hurt you." D'Artagnan managed a small chuckle, "Yes I'm sure you believe that."
Without warning Aramis tipped the bottle forward and doused the wound with the liquid. D'Artagnan groaned and gritted his teeth together as his entire arm felt as though it was being consumed by flames. "I'm sorry." Aramis muttered, but wasted no time in pushing the skin together and pushing the needle through. D'Artagnan gasped in pain again and Aramis said something soothing and apologetic as he continued on with the second stitch. By about one third through the cut there was a light sheen of sweat across his forehead and he had grown even paler, though none of the others had believed that to be possible. Both Athos and Porthos had moved closer to him. Athos clasped D'Artagnan's hand, letting him focus his energy on squeezing it rather than the pain, and Porthos had laid a comforting hand on his knee. D'Artagnan's breath was coming out in strangled gasps, and the three were marveling at the fact the he hadn't passed out yet. The slice was incredibly deep, and just the act of holding the skin together had to be excruciatingly painful, without adding in the pain of the stitches. Aramis was nearing the halfway mark, and the pain was building. Finally D'Artagnan gave in, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he fell into unconsciousness. His head dropped forward and lolled to the side.
"Finally." Aramis said with a sigh of relief, "I thought he was going to be like you, Porthos." He glanced at the larger man as he said his name.
Porthos nodded, "Damn kid's too stubborn for his own good."
"Yes I believe that may have been what got him in this mess in the first place." Athos added.
"What do you mean?" Aramis asked, returning his attention to his stitching.
"Has he seemed distracted lately to you?" Athos asked.
Both Aramis and Porthos nodded in agreement. "I thought it might have something to do with Constance." Porthos lamented.
"Yes, he did seem rather upset when she returned to her husband." Aramis agreed.
"I was meaning to ask him about it when our fight ended." Athos explained, "But obviously that plan was interrupted."
"You'll have all the time in the world once he wakes up to get him to explain." Porthos said.
"And an explanation is well warranted." Aramis added, "As often as I have to do this, I don't actually enjoy stitching you all up."
Athos nodded, "Is it just me or does he seem to attract trouble? Of all the people he could choose in Paris he goes with the one woman he can't have."
Porthos shot Athos an odd look, "You're one to talk!"
Athos fixed him with a glare while Aramis chuckled. "Yes well I'd prefer if we could keep this conversation focused on D'Artagnan."
Porthos grinned, "Of course, though D'Artagnan might think differently. He doesn't particularly seem like the type to share what he's feeling."
"I'm sure Athos will be quite persuasive." Aramis stated as he finished the final stitch. "Now help me move him to the bed." Carefully the three maneuvered him across the room and laid him down. "Get me a bowl and water and some clean cloth, or a towel." Aramis directed, "I want to clean off the blood."
Porthos glanced at Athos, "You get the water, I'll get the towel?" With a nod from Athos they were off, and Aramis was left with D'Artagnan.
"What was so distracting that you dropped your guard like that?" Aramis asked quietly. He pushed a pillow under D'Artagnan's head, wanting him to be as comfortable as possible. He knew firsthand how much wounds like these hurt. After only a few minutes the other two returned and set the bowl and towel down next to Aramis who began to gently dab at the wound, careful of the fresh stitches. As his hand brushed over the raw arm D'Artagnan began to stir. His eyes moved under his eyelids but he had yet to open them. However, he tried to push Aramis back and move away from him. "Shush, it's alright." Aramis murmured, hoping that it sounded comforting. "You're fine, be calm." Slowly D'Artagnan opened his eyes and upon seeing the others, relaxed.
"Are you alright?" Athos questioned worriedly.
D'Artagnan nodded, "Yes, I'm fine."
Aramis raised his eyebrows and glanced at Porthos but Porthos only shook his head. 'Later', his look seemed to convey. Aramis turned back to D'Artagnan, "How do you feel?" He asked.
D'Artagnan shrugged with one shoulder, "Fine."
Aramis nodded, clearly not buying it for a moment, "D'Artagnan," he said warningly, "I need an actual answer."
D'Artagnan all but rolled his eyes and sighed, "It hurts." He said shortly, "But it's fine."
Aramis looked like he wanted to push the subject but Athos cut him off. "Why did it happen in the first place?" He asked.
"Because I wasn't fast enough." D'Artagnan explained shortly.
Porthos scoffed, "Now we all have seen you fight enough to know that that's not the case."
D'Artagnan shrugged awkwardly again, "Well what do you want me to say?"
"The truth." Athos replied, "We know that your head has been elsewhere lately, and unless you give us a reason why we're going to take matters into our own hands."
"And how can you do that if you don't know what the problem is?" D'Artagnan asked.
"Aha!" Aramis exclaimed, "So you admit that there is a problem!"
D'Artagnan sighed and said, "It's nothing."
"If it's enough to distract you and keep you off guard then it's enough to warrant concern." Athos said. "And if you don't tell us then we're going to take our best guess and go from there."
"And what would that guess be?"D'Artagnan asked.
"That you're having relationship problems with the lovely Madame Bonacieux." Aramis answered.
D'Artagnan turned his head so that he was not looking at any of them. "There cannot be any problems when no relationship exists." He said quietly.
"What do you mean?" Aramis asked, "You two seemed very much in love."
"Yes, well it seemed to be rather one sided." D'Artagnan said bitterly. "She told me she never loved me. It was like a game to her." He added in a small voice. He felt tears burn in the back of his eyes but blinked them back, stubbornly refusing to let them fall.
Athos, Aramis, and Porthos could hardly believe what they were hearing- Constance had loved him, did love him. "She said that to you?" Athos asked, his voice low. His mind was already running through the possibilities of what could have happened to make her react like that.
D'Artagnan nodded wordlessly as Porthos pushed his chair back loudly and stood up. He grabbed his jacket from off the back of the chair and made for the door.
"And where are you going?" Athos asked.
"I'm going to find Constance." Porthos replied, "And while I'm at it I'm going to have a chat with Monsieur Bonacieux, this has his work written all over it."
D'Artagnan sighed, "Porthos, no." He begged, "Please don't."
Porthos shook his head, "I've seen the way she looks at you- and especially after you saved her. There's no way she said that because she believes it."
"Well why else would she?" D'Artagnan asked.
"Maybe her husband put her up to it." Athos suggested, jumping aboard.
"He did threaten to kill himself that last time." Aramis said, "This does seem like something he would do."
"You don't think she's in any danger do you?" D'Artagnan asked, his sadness instantly being replaced by worry.
"I don't know." Porthos replied honestly, "But I do know that she loves you, no matter what she may say."
"I'm coming with you." D'Artagnan said, attempting to push himself up into a sitting position. However as he tried to put pressure on his arm it collapsed under him and he cried out in pain.
"No, no, no." Aramis mumbled as he pushed him back down, "You're going to stay right here. We'll bring her to you." D'Artagnan opened his mouth to protest but Aramis just shook his head. "You're not going to win this one, lad."
"Just make sure she's alright?" D'Artagnan asked.
Aramis pushed himself up, "Of course." He assured. He nodded at Athos who responded in like, and followed Porthos through the door.
Athos pointed at D'Artagnan, "Stay here." He commanded, punctuating each word clearly.
"Yes, sir." D'Artagnan mumbled, only half sarcastic. After scrutinizing D'Artagnan for a moment to make sure he would in fact remain there, Athos left to go with the others. D'Artagnan sighed and pressed his head back into the pillow, closing his eyes as he did so. Hopefully they would be back soon.
D'Artagnan must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew there was the sound of people entering the room. His eyes shot open and landed on the other three Musketeers. Behind them, shifting uncomfortably, was Constance. As soon as she saw him she pushed her way past the others and ran towards him.
"I'm so sorry." She mumbled. She sat down next to him, taking his hand in her own and pressing it to her lips. "I'm so sorry." She repeated, "This is all my fault."
"Come," Athos said quietly, "let's give them the room." They left, leaving D'Artagnan and Constance to themselves.
D'Artagnan raised his good arm and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "What is it?" He asked, "Are you alright?"
Constance laughed, an odd sound since she was crying, "You're lying in a bed bleeding and you want to know if I'm ok!"
D'Artagnan drew his brows together as his worry grew, "Of course, you're crying."
Constance dropped her head as more tears rolled down her cheeks, "I was trying to protect you." She murmured.
D'Artagnan chuckled, "Yes well I seem to be unaware of this strategy of breaking someone's heart to help them."
Constance pushed lightly at his chest, "Would you stop that?" She asked.
"Stop what?"
Constance sighed, "Goofing around. Making me laugh."
"And tell me again why that's a bad thing?" D'Artagnan asked.
Constance stood up and began to pace around the room, "Because he'll know." She cried, "He'll hurt you!"
D'Artagnan shook his head, "I think I can defend myself against your husband."
"And how about against the Cardinal?" Constance asked.
"What do you mean?" D'Artagnan replied.
Constance retook her seat next to him, "My husband, he threatened to have you killed if I didn't end our relationship." she admitted.
"Using the Cardinal?" D'Artagnan asked.
Constance nodded, "He is a client of my husband's. He said that if I didn't push you away that he would tell the Cardinal that you were plotting against the crown. The Cardinal already hates you- he'd take the opportunity, you know he would." She paused to draw a shaky breath before continuing, "I just- I can't imagine what I would do if you were gone."
D'Artagnan placed a gentle hand on her cheek, "I'm not going anywhere, Constance. I'm right here." She nodded, causing more tears to slid down her cheeks and D'artagnan brushed them away. "I love you." He whispered.
She managed to smile through her tears, "I love you too." D'Artagnan slid his hand so that it was behind her head and gently brought her face towards his so that their lips touched.
"I guess they're back on track, then?" Aramis said. The three musketeers were looking through the window, keeping an eye on their youngest.
Porthos looked at the others, "You did hear all that right?"
Athos nodded, "They'll just have to be more careful." He stated simply.
"And if the Cardinal gives them any trouble," Porthos continued their thoughts, patting his pistol as he did so, "we'll protect him."
Aramis nodded, "After all- one for all."
Porthos and Athos nodded as well and glanced back through the window to see the two lovers embracing, D'Artagnan running his hand through her hair as Constance cried softly into his chest. "And all for one."
A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked it please please review, and if you didn't tell me why. B should be up soon. Thank you again for reading.