Author's note: It's been a while since my last Musketeer Story. I was reluctant to put this one up because I had trouble finishing it and it is probably one of my sloppier stories. I can't say I put that much effort into it but the idea came to me and it had to be written. So, I hope you all like it and thank you to everyone who has reviewed my other stories. I keep on writing because of your kind words.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters :(

Warning: As always, this is un-betaed. I apologise for all the grammar and spelling mistakes.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Go to Versailles and escort a thief back to Paris for sentencing. The thief was involved in four cases of robbery in Paris before he left with the goods for Versailles. Authorities there caught him in the act of robbing another innocent family and when the Musketeers were notified of his capture Captain Treville ordered his men to escort the man back to Paris. Captain Treville should have known that a mission is never simple a certain four musketeers were involved.

On the road back to Paris, they were ambushed by bandits. It was nothing the Musketeers couldn't handle and after both sides had wasted their pistols, the sword fighting began. D'Artagnan had the job of keeping an eye on the thief, Beaumont. He kept Beaumont behind him as he defended himself against two bandits. One stab, took one of them out of the picture leaving the other, angry and wanting revenge. "That was my brother!"

D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulder, still keeping Beaumont behind him as he kept an eye on the bandit. "I'm happy to reunite you with him." D'Artagnan offered. The bandit glared at him and threw his sword to the ground, making d'Artagnan think he was surrendering, but he corrected that thought when the man pulled out a grenade and lit it. D'Artagnan looked at it in disbelief, not believing his luck. "Really?" He was taken by surprise when the man barrelled into him, knocking his sword from his hand and sending him onto his back.

Athos had just taken out one of the bandits and moved on to the next one. It was just their luck that they would run into trouble. As he fought, he looked around to see how his friends were faring. Aramis had already taken down two of the men while Porthos used his size to his advantage, throwing the men at each other. That left d'Artagnan who was behind him. He didn't like that he couldn't see the young man, hence manoeuvred his opponent as they fought so that he could get a view of d'Artagnan. His eyes widened in horror when he turned enough to find d'Artagnan on the ground with a man holding a grenade.

D'Artagnan struggled but no matter what he did, he could not break the hold the man had on him. In the struggle the young musketeer had somehow twisted in the man's arms. The bandit now had d'Artagnan from behind, trapping his arms at his side. D'Artagnan reached down and pulled a dagger from his boot and turned it, stabbing the man behind him. The bandit screamed in pain but he didn't loosen his hold. D'Artagnan looked at the grenade that was held at his chest. The fuse was short. He had no time left. He twisted the dagger in one last attempt to get the man to loosen his hold. It worked. The steel hold gave way and d'Artagnan broke free and rolled away.

Athos, Aramis and Porthos, finally took care of the last of their opponents and turned in time to see d'Artagnan roll away from the grenade, but they could see that d'Artagnan wasn't far enough away from it. "D'Artagnan!"

D'Artagnan was facing the grenade when it went off. The blast sending him flying off the ground. He felt himself land hard and then he knew nothing.

"d'Artagnan!" Athos called again as he waved away the dust the bomb had sent up. The lack of vision was driving him crazy. He needed to find his young friend. "D'Artagnan! Answer me!" Slowly, the dust settled and it was Aramis's keen eye who spotted him first.

"Over here." Aramis ran over and dropped down next to his friend. Blood ran down d'Artagnan's right temple. There were burn marks and scratches around his eyes and cheeks. "The blast hit him directly in his face." He placed two fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse.

Athos was kneeling on the other side of the d'Artagnan, while Porthos stood behind him. "Is he…" Porthos asked the question nobody wanted to ask.

"He's alive." Aramis told them. "He was far enough away from the bomb to not kill him." He felt around d'Artagnan's head and found an egg-sized lump at the back. "It seems he's hit it head rather hard on the ground."

"Will he be alright?" Athos asked, worried that the boy wasn't waking up.

"I won't know that until he regains consciousness. We shouldn't move him until he does." Aramis advised.

Athos nodded and stood "I'll tend to the horses. Porthos, why don't you check on Beaumont."

Porthos looked around. He had forgotten about their prisoner. He frowned when he saw the man jumping down the road, in an attempt to escape. "Seriously?" Shaking his head, he walked after the man. "Where do you think you're going?"

Aramis pulled out a handkerchief and grabbed a water skin from his horse, pouring some water on the cloth. He gently wiped away the dirt and blood on d'Artagnan's face so he could get a better look at the injury.

D'Artagnan felt like someone was pounding on his skull with an iron. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were so heavy. He was about to give up when something wet touched his cheek causing his skin to sting.

Aramis jumped a little when d'Artagnan hissed when he wiped at his cheeks. "d'Artagnan?" Athos turned to them when he heard the name. He quickly tied off the horses and returned to d'Artagnan's side. "His waking up." Aramis told him. "D'Artagnan." Aramis gently tapped his cheeks, causing the young man to wince. They smiled when d'Artagnan's eyes fluttered open. "Nice of you to join us."

D'Artagnan tried to lift his head, but that only caused to aggravate his headache. "What's going on?" He closed his eyes, hoping to ease the pounding in his head.

"You picked a duel with a bomb and I think the bomb won." Athos was relieved enough to joke now that d'Artagnan was awake and aware.

Aramis was relieved as well, but he needed to determine the extent of d'Artagnan's injury. "d'Artagnan, open your eyes and look at me."

D'Artagnan groaned and opened his eyes again. He looked around, frowning. "It would help if you could start a fire or something."

Athos was confused, "Are you cold?"

"No, but I can't look at anyone if I can't see them!" D'Artagnan's headache was making him irritable.

It was as if the world went silent. For a moment, Aramis, Athos and Porthos couldn't think at all. They froze. Everything froze.

D'Artagnan frowned at the silence. He could feel the air around him thicken. Something was wrong. Were they being attacked again? Did Beaumont get away? Why wasn't anyone saying anything and why in the world was it so dark? His eyes should have adjusted to the lack of light by now. d'Artagnan paused at that. It was dark. Too dark.

Athos feared what was about to happen as he watched d'Artagnan lift his hand up and wave it in front of his face. It would have to be pitch black for a man to not see his own hand in front of his face. D'Artagnan took a breath to calm himself. His heart was pounding in his chest in time with the pounding in his head. He didn't want to believe it, so he asked, "Athos, what time of the day is it?" He heard Athos sigh and got his answer. "There is still daylight."

Aramis watched Athos rub his eyes before answering. "Yes, it is late afternoon."

D'Artagnan swallowed. He couldn't quite comprehend what was happening to him. He was blind.

He was blind.

Aramis couldn't stand the lost look in d'Artagnan's eyes. He could see the panic rising in the boy as the implications of being blind was getting to him. They needed to stop those thoughts before it overwhelmed their friend. Aramis gently placed a hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder, but despite being gentle, he still felt d'Artagnan jump at his touch. He ignored it and spoke. "This may not be permanent, d'Artagnan. Let me take a look." Aramis had no experience with this kind of injury, but his friends had faith in his medical abilities and d'Artagnan needed to believe that this could be temporary. Athos nodded to him, telling him he was doing the right thing. Aramis turned d'Artagnan's face so that he was looking directly into his eyes. The burns around the eyes told Aramis the blast had caught d'Artagnan directly in the face. His eyes were bloodshot and then there was the hit to the head. Aramis had heard of head injuries that could cause loss of vision. There was no telling which injury was causing the loss of vision. There was nothing much Aramis could do about it, but he had to do something to give d'Artagnan some hope. He tore a part of his under shirt. "I'm going to bandage your eyes to keep them closed and allow them to rest. There is damage to your eyes, so we should keep them protected." Athos helped d'Artagnan to sit up. Aramis wrapped the strip around d'Artagnan's eyes, twice, before tying it off behind his head.

Athos gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Do not lose hope."

D'Artagnan took deep breaths to calm himself. It was hard to not lose hope when you were living in darkness, but he knew his friends would do all that they could to ensure his vision returns. "I won't." He told them, because they needed to know that he will keep fighting.

Athos smiled at the boy, then turned to Aramis. "Can he ride?"

Aramis nodded, "but we need to take it slow."

Porthos, who had been keeping guard over Beaumont, couldn't keep quiet any longer. He gestured for Aramis to come over. "Tell me this is temporary." He whispered, desperately.

Aramis shook his head, "I can't."

"This will kill him." Porthos voiced the eventuality of the situation.

"I know, but for now, all he needs to know is that this is most likely temporarily. I won't let him lose the fight before it even begins." Aramis was determined to get d'Artagnan through this. Porthos nodded. Aramis looked down at their prisoner. "Cut his feet free. We won't be moving fast so he can walk."

Aramis walked back over to Athos who was helping d'Artagnan onto his horse. He guided d'Artagnan's foot into the stirrup. D'Artagnan felt for the horn and pulled himself up. Despite being blind, getting on a horse was not difficult, it came naturally to them. Athos got on his own horse and guided it over to d'Artagnan's, taking its rein from Aramis. He would lead d'Artagnan's horse while Aramis took the lead and Porthos brought up the rear. They prayed the remainder of their journey would be uneventful.

The trip was unusually quiet. All the men were thinking about what the future held for d'Artagnan if his sight did not return. Even Beaumont wasn't saying a word, as if feeling the tense atmosphere and unwilling to bring down the wrath of the Musketeers onto him by talking.

Athos turned to his friend, next to him. It wasn't that long ago d'Artagnan had realised his dream of becoming a Musketeer. D'Artagnan may be new but his potential was great and was fast becoming one of their regiment's best. He was a proud young man and independent, out to prove himself to the King and the people of France. All of these qualities are what will make this particular hurdle, hard to overcome. He didn't like to rely on others and right now, he couldn't even ride his horse without assistance. Athos watched as d'Artagnan's hands formed fists. They were so tight, his knuckles were white. No doubt d'Artagnan's thoughts matched those of his. He nudge his horse to move closer to his brother and reached over, firmly grasping d'Artagnan's forearm. The touch abruptly drew d'Artagnan from the negative scenes playing in his head.

D'Artagnan turned his head so that he would be looking at the hand, if he could see. It was such a simple gesture. A firm grip. However, the meaning was so much more. It told him to not give. It represented the strength of their brotherhood. It told him he wasn't alone. He knew this. He has always known that these men he rode with would never abandon him but what good was he to them…blind. The grip on his arm tightened. D'Artagnan lifted his head and gave his mentor a small smile, patting the hand on his arm. "I'm fine."

Athos sighed. He knew is friend was far from fine, but there was nothing he could say that could help him right now. "We should probably find a place to stop for the night. It'll be dark soon." Athos winced as soon as the words came out of his mouth. He knew what d'Artagnan would be thinking. What difference would that make to me? "The horses need to rest."

"There is a clearing up ahead. We can make camp there." Aramis called back to them. He wanted to stop and check on his patient as well. It wasn't only his vision that was a problem. The boy had a concussion and he had neglected to check for other injuries, he was so preoccupied by the sudden blindness.

"Yeah, I'm sure our prisoner wouldn't mind a reprieve as well." He looked back at Beaumont. "Isn't that right?"

"The later we get back to Paris the better it is for me." Beaumont wanted to delay his sentence as much as he could.

Athos nodded, "It's agreed then. We stop for the night." Not that Beaumont's vote would've made a difference.

Aramis and Athos dismounted their horses and went straight over to d'Artagnan, while Porthos tied their prisoner to a tree before tending to their horses. Aramis placed a hand on d'Artagnan's back, guiding him down from the horse.

D'Artagnan frowned at how unsteady he was on his feet when they touched the ground. "Easy." He heard Aramis as he steadied him. "You took a hard blow to your head. You'll be feeling dizzy for a while." Athos stood on the other side of d'Artagnan, worried, but he didn't do anything, not wanting the boy to feel crowded. "I've got him." Aramis assured Athos. Athos nodded and left them to start a fire for the night. Aramis lead d'Artagnan over to a large tree and sat him down against it. D'Artagnan grunted at the movement. A pain had started up during the ride, but he didn't want to delay their trip by revealing this to his friends. Aramis studied his d'Artagnan before speaking. "I need you to be honest with me, d'Artagnan."

D'Artagnan was confused with the statement. "How so?"

"You're very good at hiding your injuries and I'm usually very good at calling you out on it, but I must admit, I'm finding it a little difficult when I can't see your eyes." Aramis waited for d'Artagnan to speak.

D'Artagnan sighed. Aramis was right. He tended to hide his injuries, but that was when d'Artagnan was able to take care of himself. It was a completely different situation this time. He was completely reliant on his friends now which meant they had the right to know everything. "My back's bothering me and the headache's worse."

Aramis wore a small smile, proud that d'Artagnan was willing to admit everything. "Take off your doublet and let me see." He helped d'Artagnan out of his doublet and pulled up his shirt. "Lean forward." He hissed at the bruising covering his middle and lower back. Running his fingers up and down d'Artagnan's back, he determined that there were a couple of broken ribs. "Two cracked ribs. I'm going to wrap them up to keep them in place." Aramis took off his jacket and pulled off his shirt. He put his jacket back on before tearing his shirt into strips. "There's not much I can do for your headache." He said as he wrapped the ribs. "Sleep is the best thing for that." He tied off the bandage then called out to Porthos. "Porthos, bring over a saddle and blanket." Turning back to d'Artagnan, "Lie down on your side. It'll take the pressure off your back." He guided d'Artagnan onto his side and slid the saddle under his head. Porthos laid the blanket over his friend. "Go to sleep." Aramis ordered. Despite the stress of the situation, d'Artagnan fell asleep straight away.

"Poor kid's exhausted." Porthos worried. "A musket ball couldn't put him down that fast."

"It's not his physical injuries that's wearing him down." Aramis told him. "His mind was probably running through every worst case scenario it could come with during that entire ride." He stood up and walked over to the other side of the fire where Athos was watching the young man from. "How do we get him through this?"

Porthos knelt down on the other side of Athos. "He knows we have his back."

"Of course he does. That's not the problem." Athos's sights never left d'Artagnan. "The problem is, he knows he won't be able to watch ours." That stopped the conversation dead in its tracks. It was true and they knew it because if this had happened to any of them, they would be thinking the same thing.

Porthos glared into the fire. "Those bandits are lucky they're all dead or I swear…" He huffed. "I'll take first watch." He growled, but he knew none of them will be sleeping tonight.

The Garrison…

Captain Treville stood on the balcony outside his office watching his men train. That's what it looked like to his men anyway. They're a day late. Athos and the others should've been back by now. It was unusual for them not to send word back if they were held up, which meant they ran into trouble. Nothing was ever simple with these men. He was about to head back into his office when he heard horses. He sighed a breath of relief when Aramis rode in but it was short lived when he was followed by Athos and d'Artagnan. "What happened?" He called as he rushed down the stairs and over to d'Artagnan who was dismounting. He took him by the arm and turned him around so that he could get a good look at him. "What happened?" He asked again. d'Artagnan winced, his arm wrapped around his middle as his ribs ached.

Aramis came up to him after handing off his horse to one of the stable boys. "Ran into some trouble who thought grenades were fun to play with." He took d'Artagnan off the captain. "Come, d'Artagnan. We need to get you into a bed. Athos will explain." The captain watched as Aramis led d'Artagnan up the stairs. He turned to get an explanation from Athos or Porthos but found the two watching d'Artagnan. It was obvious they were itching to follow.

"Go, then give me a report in an hour." The captain ordered. They didn't have to be told twice. The two took the steps two at a time. He gestured for one of his men to come forward. "Go get Dr Bonnet."

D'Artagnan sat in the bed, propped up by pillows. Aramis and Porthos had helped him out of his doublet and shirt. He had rewrapped his ribs with fresh bandages, as well as his eyes. Aramis had ordered him not to open his eyes when he unwrapped them. There were two reasons for that. The reason he gave D'Artagnan was that he didn't want any healing that may have occurred overnight to be reversed. The real reason was that he didn't want d'Artagnan to completely lose hope when he opened his eyes and saw nothing but black.

D'Artagnan felt the bed dip as someone sat down next to him. "How's the headache?" It was Aramis.

"It's better." He answered. When no one spoke for a while he started getting agitated. "You don't have to watch me now. We're back at the garrison. Nothing's going to happen."

"You hit your head. It's better if we stay to make sure…"

"I'm fine!" d'Artagnan growled at them. "I've hit my head harder than this and I'm still alive."

"D'Artagnan." D'Artagnan recognised the voice and the tone. He was about to get a talk from Athos and he was not in the mood for one.

"Just go." D'Artagnan told them. "I want to be alone." When he didn't hear anyone move he shot up off the pillows. "I said get out!" He felt a hand on his shoulder and shoved it off. "I don't need you three sitting here feeling sorry for me!"

"We don't…"

"Please." The small word was more effective than a thousand. D'Artagnan was begging them to leave him alone. The three men looked at each other, feeling utterly helpless. It hurt them to see their vibrant friend, lost and defeated. Athos nodded for them to leave. It was what was best for d'Artagnan at this very moment. Aramis and Porthos headed out first. Athos still had something to say. He leaned over and whispered into d'Artagnan's ears.

"I will not let you give up on yourself!" With that he left the room.

D'Artagnan's expression remained stoic until he heard the door close. He was glad for the bandage around his eyes. It absorbed the tears. He was forced to bite into his fist to stop himself from screaming, from losing control. It's been hard to hold back his emotions since losing his sight. He barely spoke on the way back here because he didn't trust himself to lose control. He yelled at his brothers, pushed them away because he couldn't hold it back any more. He was blind. He was useless. He was useless to this regiment and he was useless to his brothers. What good was a blind Musketeer?!

The three Musketeers stood outside d'Artagnan's room, leaning on the handrail. They didn't talk. They wouldn't leave. They couldn't help. The youngest member of their regiment was hurting and there was nothing they could do to help him. Athos knew how the young man felt. He knew how it felt to feel helpless, to feel like life was spiralling out of control. To lose yourself to despair. He was not going to allow that to happen to d'Artagnan. "He's our brother. This is not the end for him." Athos said, determinedly.

"Of course not. That boy is too stubborn to allow blindness keep him down." Porthos growled.

"And we will not let it keep him down." Aramis nodded, "Once he recovers from his head injury we're getting him out of here. Show him that we're not giving up on him so he sure as hell better not!"

They were interrupted by the captain walking towards them. He was followed by a face familiar to all of them. It was the physician who usually tended to the sick and injured amongst the musketeers. Aramis would always tend to his friends but there was only so much he could do. "Dr Bonnet." Aramis tipped his hat at him.

"Aramis." The young doctor nodded at them. "I'm rarely called in to tend to your friends."

Aramis gave a sad smile, "This is beyond my expertise, as the captain would know. Otherwise he will not have sent for you."

"Can you tell me the extent of his injuries?" Bonnet felt for these men. He knew how close they were. If one was hurt, they all felt it in some way.

Aramis went through what had happened to d'Artagnan before the captain knocked on d'Artagnan's door. "d'Artagnan, Dr Bonnet has come to take a look at your injury. May we come in?" He waited and sighed when he got no answer. He was about to knock again when the door opened, shocking them all.

"Why are you up?" Athos pushed past the captain and doctor and grabbed the young man by the arm, pulling him back to his bed.

D'Artagnan yanked his arm out of his grip. "I got to the door by myself, I can get back to the bed by myself." Athos winced, not realising that his actions made d'Artagnan feel helpless. It was such a natural reaction and not one meant to diminish d'Artagnan's capabilities. Suddenly, Athos decided that it was the way he had always acted when d'Artagnan was injured and that shouldn't change just because of the nature of this one. If they wanted d'Artagnan to believe they will not treat him differently than that is the way they should be acting. Athos stepped up to him and grabbed his arm again.

"Sorry, my friend, but we can't wait around all day for you to find your way back to your bed." He pulled d'Artagnan to his bed and sat him on it. Aramis winced at the pain that would've caused to d'Artagnan's ribs, but he knew what Athos was trying to do. He smiled as he pictured the glare d'Artagnan would've given Athos. Athos stepped aside and gestured for the doctor to do his thing.

"D'Artagnan," Dr Bonnet spoke to him as he placed a hand on his shoulder to let him know he was directly in front of him. "I'm going to take the bandages off your eyes."

D'Artagnan's heart skipped at those words. He didn't know if he wanted them off. Up until now he could pretend that the only reason he couldn't see was because of the bandages. He was afraid of how he would react if the bandages came off and he still could see nothing. Another hand was on his other shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He didn't have to see to know it was Athos. He took a breath and nodded. He felt the doctor unravelling the bandage, feeling the cool air against his eyes once it was gone.

"d'Artagnan, I need you to open your eyes, slowly." The doctor looked up at Athos. "I need more light." Athos nodded to Aramis who was near the table. Aramis handed the lit candle to the doctor.

D'Artagnan grimaced as he forced his eyelids open. It's been closed for so long it felt as if they were glued together.

"That's good." The doctor held the candle to d'Artagnan's eyes. "Can you see anything at all?" He waved his hand in front of d'Artagnan. All in the room held their breaths as they waited for d'Artagnan to answer.

D'Artagnan frowned, concentrating on seeing in front of him. It was still black but it wasn't pitch black like it was yesterday. Something moved in front of his face. "Do that again." Everyone stood up straighter at that.

"You saw that?" Porthos asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

Dr Bonnet waved his hand again. D'Artagnan squinted. "It's like shadows in a dark room. I can just make out a movement."

"Were you able to see anything after the blast?"

D'Artagnan shook his head. "Nothing at all." His answers were slow. Hope was building in him but he didn't dare to believe that his sight was returning until it actually did.

Athos was getting impatient now. Bonnet kept examining d'Artagnan's eyes without saying a word. He could see that the wait was also driving d'Artagnan mad. The boy had a tight grip on the bed sheets. "What does this mean, doctor?" He finally asked for everyone.

"It means, Aramis did the best thing he could've for d'Artagnan." Aramis raised his eyebrows at that. "Bandaging his eyes allowed it to start healing. The blast caused damage to his eyes but if we keep it bandaged, it should heal on its own."

"Should?" d'Artagnan asked, a little scared.

Dr Bonnet started re-bandaging his eyes. "I have high hopes that your sight will return to you but I can't say how long it will take. The best thing for you to do is rest, at least until you've recovered from the hit to your head."

"How long do I have to keep the bandage on for?"

"I'll come by in two weeks to check on you." Dr Bonnet got up to leave. He stopped by Aramis. "You know what you are doing even when you don't know what you are doing? I am impressed by your skills, though it does take business away from me."

Aramis grinned. "I'll show you out."

Captain Treville sighed in relief once the doctor left the room. "You heard the doctor, d'Artagnan. Stay in bed. If I catch you out of that bed in the next two days I will make you muck out the stalls for the rest of the year! Am I understood?"

"Yes, Captain." Porthos and Athos had to stifle their laugh at their friend's contrite expression. Now that they knew d'Artagnan had a good chance at recovering, they could relax and be themselves again.

"Don't worry, Captain. We'll make sure he stays put." Porthos assured him.

"Ensure that you do, otherwise all of you will be mucking out the stalls." The captain left them, stunned that they were now a part of the punishment. They turned to the boy sitting on the bed when chuckling could be heard.

"Oh, so now you're laughing!" Porthos walked up to him. He was about to slap his friend over the head when he remembered he had a concussion. He settled from punching him in the arm.

"Ow!" d'Artagnan pouted as he rubbed his arm, "what was that for?"

"For giving up before the fight even started!" Porthos growled at him.

D'Artagnan winced at that. "I'm sorry. I just…" He drifted off, ashamed at his actions. "I'm sorry."

Athos sighed and sat down next to his brother. "d'Artagnan, you need to understand that what happens to you, happens to all of us." He put an arm around his brother. "If you had to live the rest of your life in darkness, we'll be right here beside you. Musketeers never abandon their own."

Aramis came back into the room at that moment. "You should have more faith in us, d'Artagnan."

D'Artagnan shook his head. "My faith in all of you was never in question. That was the problem. I didn't want to be a burden on you and I knew that you would never abandon me, but I would just be deadweight."

Athos took him by the shoulders and turned him around to face him. "You're not a burden and you never will be. You're our brother and you're not that heavy." D'Artagnan couldn't help but laugh at that.

Aramis clapped his hands to get their attention. "You heard the doctor. You need to rest."

Athos helped him settle back against the pillows. He could tell the boy was exhausted because he didn't put up a fight. "Go to sleep. One of us will be here."

"Thank you." D'Artagnan murmured before he let sleep take him.

One week later…

D'Artagnan was having his dinner at their usual tavern with his friends. He still had his eyes bandaged but Aramis had cleared him of his concussion. This was his first night out since the accident and he was planning to enjoy it. Vision or no vision. He reached for his cup of wine. Porthos grinned as the young musketeer brought the cup to his lips. They burst out laughing when d'Artagnan gave a distasteful look at the cup. "Where's my wine?"

Aramis chuckled, "You only just recovered from a concussion. Refrain from any wine until further notice."

Athos shook his head as d'Artagnan pouted like a two year old. "The night can be enjoyed without wine." Everyone sat up straight at that including d'Artagnan.

D'Artagnan smirked, "Care to be a role model for me?" He grinned at the glare he knew Athos was throwing at him.

"No, I do not." Athos drank his wine straight from the bottle. Aramis and Porthos couldn't help but shake their heads as they laughed. It's been too long since they've been able to do this. Unfortunately, the night was interrupted by a brawl near the front of the tavern. Athos groaned, "Of course, what is a night out without a brawl to end it." Athos reached over and pressed on d'Artagnan's shoulder. "Stay here. We'll be right back." D'Artagnan nodded. He hated not being able to help his friends but he also knew he would only hinder them. The three stood from their table and headed over to where the fighting was happening.

D'Artagnan listened to the fight as he waited. He was just about to take a drink of his water when an arm wrapped around his neck and before he knew what was happening he was dragged out of the tavern. They made a couple of turns before he was dumped on the ground. "What's going on?"

"Musketeer scum!" He heard before he was pulled to his feet by his arms. Two men held him with his arm out. D'Artagnan struggled but the men had firm holds on his upper arm and wrists. "What use is a blind musketeer?" He heard another voice sneer. It wasn't from the men that were holding him.

"They're pretty useless when they can't see!" This voice was younger and from the man holding his right arm.

"Don't see why they would keep him around." The man on his left.

D'Artagnan was shaking with anger. He wanted to scream obscenities at the men but realised he needed to find a way of identifying these men. "Better then keeping around fully functional Red Guards." He didn't know if these men were Red Guards or not but there were not many men who spoke about the Musketeers the way these men did. He wasn't ready for the punch across the face but he didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing his shock. He smirked, "You must be a Red Guard. You punch like a girl."

"I'll show you how Red G…" The man was cut off mid-sentence but it was too late. They were Red Guards.

"That's enough talking." The voice was a new one and it was gruff. It was clear that his man was their captain.

"Five Red Guards to take on one blind Musketeer. Rochefort must be so proud of you." A punch to his gut stopped anymore words from coming out of him. He would've doubled over if the two men weren't holding him up. D'Artagnan coughed and sucked in breath before his head was pulled up by the hair.

"You Musketeers don't know when to shut up." The captain said in his ear before kneeing him in the sternum.

D'Artagnan groaned as he was dropped to the ground. He didn't have time to recover when kicks rained down on him. He protected his head as much as he could but he could feel himself losing consciousness. Just as blackness was about to take him, someone yanked his bandages off around his eyes. D'Artagnan blinked at the blurry image above him. He could only just make out the tell-tale red cloak of the Red Guard's uniform. The figure knelt down and grabbed his hair again, pulling it back causing d'Artagnan to roll onto his back. There was a glint of something. A dagger. D'Artagnan froze as he felt the cold metal press against his throat.

Athos, Aramis and Porthos sent the instigators of the brawl on their way with their tails between their legs. It was something that happened often enough that it wasn't worth making any arrests. The Three Musketeers were experienced enough to determine if the brawlers were troublemakers or if they were men who had a bad day. Tonight, they were men who had a bad day in the markets. Athos turned to make his way back to their table when he saw that d'Artagnan's seat was empty. He picked up his pace, then looked around. "D'Artagnan!"

Aramis jumped on a table to get a view of the entire tavern. "He's not here."

Porthos turned around on the one spot, but he could not locate their friend either. "Where would go?"

Athos shook his head, "He wouldn't leave." He glared at the back door. It was slightly open. "Come on." He headed out the door with Porthos right behind him. Aramis jumped off the table and followed. Athos looked up and down the back alley. "You two go that way." Athos pointed to the left while he ran to the right. "d'Artagnan!"

Aramis and Porthos ran to the end of the alley, calling out. "d'Artagnan!" Aramis put out a hand to stop Porthos when he heard something.

D'Artagnan flinched when the blade made an incision into his throat. His thoughts went out to his friends. His heart broke as he thought about them finding him in this alley, lying in his own blood with his throat cut. He was so sure he was about to die when he heard his name called and the pressure of the blade lessened, though it still remained against his throat. "Someone's coming!" Came a panicked cry. It was the younger man he had heard earlier.

"Consider yourself lucky." The Captain sneered at him before they ran in the opposite direction of the voices.

D'Artagnan tried to get up but the pain in his abdomen and back didn't allow him to do anything but curl up around himself. He was shivering. The cold, hard concrete ground chilled him to the bones. "D'Artagnan!" The voices were getting closer.

Athos turned the corner and saw Aramis and Porthos running down the alley from the other end. He could tell they were running with a purpose, then they turned and disappeared into another alley. He ran towards them.

Aramis and Porthos froze when they turned the corner and saw their friend lying in the cold, damp alley. "d'Artagnan." Aramis gasped as he made his way to the young man and knelt down beside him. He pressed two fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse. What he got was even better.

"'m…not…dead…"

Porthos breathed in relief and dropped down next to his friend. "I have to wonder if you don't go out of your way to get dead."

"P'th's…" d'Artagnan winced at the pain when he spoke.

"Hey, stop talking. We'll take care of you." Porthos placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What should we do?"

It was too dark. "Nothing I can do here. Can you carry him back to the garrison? I don't know his injuries so you'll need to carry him in your arms."

"Of course I can." Porthos crouched beside d'Artagnan and slid his arms under his knees and behind his shoulders. Aramis helped support d'Artagnan's weight until Porthos stood. D'Artagnan groaned as the movement caused sharp pain to lance through his abdomen and back. Porthos didn't move until he felt that d'Artagnan got his pain under control. Aramis, who was supporting d'Artagnan's head, guided it so that it was resting on Porthos's shoulder. They turned to make their way back to the garrison when they found themselves facing Athos.

Athos froze at the body in Porthos's arm. "Is he…"

"He's alive." Aramis told him quickly. "We have to get him back to the garrison now."

Athos forced himself to breathe as he took in his brother's battered form. He nodded. "Let's go." Two musketeers flanked the other as they determinedly walked back to the garrison. "Did you see what happened?" Athos asked them.

"No, but it doesn't take a genius to see that he's been beat up." Aramis growled. "I heard voices."

Athos clenched his jaw and fisted his hands. "I will find out who did this and when I do, there will be no trial."

Aramis and Porthos nodded in agreement. They will handle this their own way.

Captain Treville was in his office, reading his men's daily reports, when he heard footsteps coming up the steps. He set aside his glasses and went to see who it was. Porthos had just reach the top of the steps when he came out. He glared at the unconscious man in Porthos's arms. Porthos looked at him nervously. Athos and Aramis just stood there, waiting for him to say something. "This is his first night out of the garrison." Treville spoke slowly in a low growl. Porthos nodded, deliberately and slowly. The captain wanted to strangle his men. "What happened?" He asked through his clenched jaw.

Porthos grimaced as d'Artagnan got heavier. "Can we explain later? I know he's my brother and he's not supposed to be heavy…but he is after carrying him here from the tavern."

Treville shook his head at his men. "Go!" Porthos didn't need to be told twice. He hurried his pace towards Aramis's room. Treville followed them. He wanted an explanation, yesterday!

Porthos and Aramis worked together to get d'Artagnan out of his doublet and shirt while Athos spoke quietly at the door with Treville. There wasn't much to tell. The three of them didn't see anything. "We'll know more when he wakes up." Treville held up a finger at Athos, who looked to be ready to kill someone. "Don't tell me to leave this alone. I will find the person responsible for this and I will not wait for a trial and sentence."

Trevilled smirked, "That's exactly what I was about to say."

Athos nodded, thanking his captain for his permission. They turned when they heard Porthos hiss. "What is it?" Athos asked as he walked over. He stopped when Porthos moved out of the way to show him d'Artagnan's condition. They had propped the young musketeer up on pillows. There was barely a spot on d'Artagnan that wasn't bruised. Aramis picked up d'Artagnan's arm by the hand and under the forearm. D'Artagnan's right wrist was sprained. He laid it on d'Artagnan's middle and reached over the other arm. His left wrist was bruised but not sprained. He frowned as he ran his thumb lightly over the bruise. His eyes moved up the arm until it came to another bruise.

"Do you see the shape of these bruises?" Aramis asked. He wrapped his hand around the wrist. "Someone restrained him by the arm. Here," he nodded at the wrist, "and here." He pointed d'Artagnan's upper arm.

"Both arms have the same marks." Porthos pointed out. "Two men held him by the arms while another one beat him. We're looking at at least three men." His expression turned deadly, "Three men or more to beat him one blind man!"

"That's not all." He moved d'Artagnan's head to the side. A thin red line along his jugular. "They tried to kill him."

Treville put a hand on Athos's shoulder. "Take care of him first and deal with them later." He turned to Porthos, his eyes were cold. "Any way you wish." When he knew his men received his message, his expression softened again. "Stay with him. The three of you have the week off." He left them to tend to their youngest.

d'Artagnan groaned as he slowly came to awareness. His entire body ached. Someone was wrapping something around his wrist. He tried to open his eyes when he realised he couldn't. Lifting his left hand, he reached for his eyes and found that the bandage was back. "Hey, leave that alone. You lost the last one." D'Artagnan wished his mind wasn't so foggy. He couldn't even recognise the voice let alone work out what they were talking about. Sleep was beckoning him again, so he gave in.

Aramis sighed when d'Artagnan didn't wake. "He's passed out again." He pressed the back of his hand to d'Artagnan's forehead. "He's also developing a fever. Lying in the cold alley was definitely not good for him."

"Great! Can anything else go wrong?" Athos growled, pacing up and down the room.

"Athos, he'll be fine. He took a bad beating but he's not bleeding internally. He will recover." Aramis assured him. He sighed when Athos didn't stop pacing. "If you can't keep still then can you make yourself useful and go get me some water to tend to his fever." Athos glared at him before leaving.

d'Artagnan woke up in the dark. It was pitch black. He got up, his hands coming up, reaching around cautiously. He was trying to feel for anything that would clue him in on where he was. His hands hit something. It was something firm, but not hard. As he ran his hand up and down, he realised it wasn't something but someone. "Athos? Is that you? Aramis…Porthos?" Suddenly, a fist slammed him in the stomach. Then more fists and kicks than he could block.

Aramis frowned when d'Artagnan started tossing in the bed. He wiped at his forehead and necks. "Calm down, d'Artagnan."

"No!" He gasped as his movements became jerky. "Stop!" Aramis caught his arms as they flew out, attacking the phantoms in his nightmare.

"Athos! Porthos!" Aramis called out as he struggled to keep d'Artagnan from hurting himself further. Athos started awake, looking around for what had woken him. Porthos jumped up from his seat with his sword drawn. Aramis looked over his shoulder. "Unless you can use that on d'Artagnan's phantom attacker, put it away and help me!" He grunted as d'Artagnan's left hand came loose and smacked him in the face. "Now!"

Athos rushed over and grabbed d'Artagnan's arm, careful of the bruises. He held it to the bed and held his hand against his brow. "d'Artagnan, it's just us." Athos spoke to him. "We're your friends, your brothers." Aramis slowly released his hold on his friend. As soon as Athos started speaking, the young musketeer calmed down. "You're safe." Athos loosened his hold on his, but stayed close.

D'Artagnan slowly come to consciousness, but he started panicking again when he realised he was still in the dark. "No." His left hand flew to his eyes, fingers trying to find a purchase on the bandage to rip it off.

"Hey, hey, hey. That has to stay on." Athos grabbed his hand and pulled it down.

"I need to see…" d'Artagnan fought the hand holding him down. Twisting it to get out of the hold. "Please."

"d'Artagnan, stop it. You're going to hurt yourself." Athos pleaded.

"I can see…" d'Artagnan stopped fighting but he needed Athos to understand. "I saw them."

Porthos frowned as he listened. While Aramis and Athos were fighting to calm d'Artagnan down, Porthos listened to his words. "You saw the men who attacked you?" Porthos asked. D'Artagnan calmed down and nodded. Athos and Aramis looked at each other. D'Artagnan could see.

"What did you see, d'Artagnan?" Aramis asked, carefully.

"It was blurry." D'Artagnan sat up, and ran his hand over his shoulder. "Red." He said breathlessly, "red across here." The room temperature dropped a degree as they realised what d'Artagnan was describing.

"Red guards!" Athos's hissed, dangerously.

"There were five of them. I heard five of them." D'Artagnan slowly relaxed once he got out what he wanted to say.

"How much did you see?" Aramis asked.

D'Artagnan swallowed, "Not much. It was too blurry." He reached for the bandages again. "I could…"

"Hey, stop that." Aramis pushed his hand back down again. "It's come off too many times already. Keep it on until Dr Bonnet comes over in a week."

D'Artagnan pulled his hand back in frustration, hissing as he jarred all his injuries. "It's this that's stopping me from seeing. I could've fought them if I could see!" Athos put a hand on his shoulder, but d'Artagnan shrugged it off, fighting back the pain it caused. "I couldn't do a thing. They had me and I couldn't fight back because of this!" He tried to pull it off again, but it was tight and it was hard when his other hand was strapped to his chest. He gave up and sat back in defeat. "I couldn't see a thing and none of you were there." The young man was trembling now. He wanted to take back the last part. It wasn't their fault but he didn't realised how dependent he was on them. He didn't realise… "I was scared." He admitted in a shaky voice. The room was silent. Aramis hung his head, then turned to look at Porthos. Porthos shook his head. He had no idea what to say. The words hit Athos the hardest. He had taken it upon himself to be d'Artagnan's mentor. He tried not to be over-protective of the boy but he couldn't help it and now that he couldn't see, it made it even harder. He was about to apologise when d'Artagnan beat him to it. "I'm sorry. It's not anybody's fault. It's just…" His hand came up to the cut at his throat. "I thought I was going to die." He felt hands on his shoulders, then suddenly pulled into Athos's arms. He didn't need his eyes to know it was Athos.

"We have your back. You don't have to be afraid as long as we're around. I promise." His arms tightened as d'Artagnan's shaking grew violent as he lost control of his emotions. "It's okay. You're safe."

Aramis ran his hand through his hair. It was unnerving seeing d'Artagnan like this. He always adopted a show of bravado. During a battle, he never backed down. He would face it with everything he had. This was different. D'Artagnan couldn't see what he was facing. He turned to Porthos who looked ready to kill someone. Aramis placed a hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder. "Hey. Listen to me." D'Artagnan forced himself to bring his emotions back under control. He pulled back and turn his head towards Aramis. "You saw something in that dark alley. Your sight is coming back. You won't be stuck in this darkness forever, but while you are in it, remember, we're right next to you."

D'Artagnan reached out a hand towards his friend. Aramis grasped it in his. Another hand closed over theirs. Athos. Then two hands closed over all of them. Porthos. "All for one." Porthos voiced their motto.

"And one for all." They finished.

D'Artagnan winced as he laid back against the pillows. Now that fear was pushed back, his mind focused on his physical pain. "What happened to my arm?"

"It's badly sprained. I strapped it so that you wouldn't move too much." Aramis answered. "You've got bruised and cracked ribs as well."

"That doesn't sound too bad." D'Artagnan chuckled, then winced at the pain. "They really do punch like a girl." Athos rolled his eyes while Aramis and Porthos grinned, but their grin faded when d'Artagnan groaned, his left hand coming up to his chest. A harsh cough came out. "Ow…"

Aramis poured a cup of herbal tea he had prepared earlier. "Drink this." He lifted d'Artagnan's head and touched the cup to his lips before tipping it. D'Artagnan emptied the cup. "Rest. You've got a high fever."

D'Artagnan felt sleep pull at him. He frowned, turning his head towards Athos. "Those men called me Musketeer scum. That's how I knew. I goaded them a little."

Athos shook his head, "Of course you did. You're not d'Artagnan if you didn't."

"I might have went overboard." D'Artagnan groaned.

Aramis rolled his eyes. "d'Artagnan, go to sleep."

"I'm not tired." D'Artagnan complained.

Porthos laughed, "You're like a stubborn child."

"I am not!" d'Artagnan returned, pouting. "I'm not tired…" Athos laughed softly as d'Artagnan trailed off.

"Not tired…pfff…" Porthos rolled his eyes and sat back on the seat he had occupied before d'Artagnan woke up. "You'd think it would kill him if he went to sleep."

D'Artagnan was back on the road of recovery. Athos sighed. It seemed like the boy couldn't get a break these days. He prayed that the following week would be uneventful.

One week later…

D'Artagnan sat on the bed with his legs handing over the side. He looked relaxed but the others knew better. He was nervous. They could tell by his constant rubbing of his fingers together. In the room were Dr Bonnet and Treville as well. "So have had any headaches these two weeks?" The doctor asked d'Artagnan.

The young man winced, "Does a kick to the head count?" A burst of laughter came from the three musketeers in the room. Their captain glared at them.

Dr Bonnet shook his head, "I don't want know." It's a good thing Aramis usually took care of their injuries otherwise with the amount of trouble these four get into he may as well move into the garrison. "I'm going to remove the bandages now." d'Artagnan's heart skipped a beat. Athos winced as the nervousness seem to rise a notch. He watched as the bandages unravelled. It felt as if the bandage had no end. Then it was gone.

D'Artagnan's hand came up to his eyes, gingerly touching them. Aramis walked around the room and started pulling closed the curtains. Bonnet nodded his thanks. "I want you to open your eyes, slowly." D'Artagnan did as he was asked. His eyes fluttered, as it tried to adjust to the little light in the room after being in the dark for so long. He squinted at the blurry images. "Take your time. Your eyes will adjust." His eyes started watering, then closed it again.

"It stings." The others took a step forward in concern. Bonnet extended a hand out to calm them.

"That's a normal reaction." Bonnet told them all. "Try again."

D'Artagnan took a breath before trying again. This time it wasn't as hard to open his eyes. Aramis looked at AThos and nudged his head at d'Artagnan. Athos raised his eyebrows, not understanding what Aramis was asking. Aramis rolled his eyes and sharply gestured with his hand at d'Artagnan. Athos glared at him and raised his hands, shrugging. Aramis hung his head in defeat. Then he looked up and mouthed, go to him! "You know communicating is easier when you use your voice instead of hand gestures."

Aramis turned to d'Artagnan. "Athos is just denser than m…" He stopped when it dawned on him. "You can see us?" Athos let himself a small smile, waiting for an answer.

D'Artagnan shrugged. "It's a little blurry still, but I can see enough."

"YES!" Porthos roared and whooped as he pulled d'Artagnan up, lifting him off the ground. Aramis winced at how much pain that would cause. He walked up and pat the big man on the back.

"Easy, Porthos. His eyes are better but his ribs are still cracked."

Porthos stopped then dropped the boy. "I'm sorry."

D'Artagnan gave him a look that was between a grimace and a grin. "I'm fine." He sat back on the bed with his arm wrapped around his middle, out of breath. He looked up when someone gave his shoulder a squeeze. Athos looked worried. He smiled. "I am fine. Really."

"Well, it seems my job here is done." Bonnet interrupted them for a moment. "You will need take it easy. It'll take a few days for the blurriness to go away and to get used to bright lights."

"Thank you, doctor." Treville showed the man out, then closed the door and walked back to them. D'Artagnan rubbed his hands over his face. He was so relieved. Life not being a musketeer was not a life at all. That is what would've happened if he had lost his sight permanently.

Treville folded his arms and watched to quiet celebration. He was glad d'Artagnan's better but he had other matters to talk to them about. "I've ask our men to spread the word that Red Guards attacked a blind man." The room went silent at the odd statement from their captain. "I know you all want to get the men behind d'Artagnan's attack. This is one way of luring them out."

D'Artagnan smiled. He appreciated what Treville was doing. It was an unconventional method and very unlike the captain. "Anything yet?"

"No, but they will take the bait. Those men are arrogant to think they will get away with what they've done." Treville promised, then hesitated. "When you are fit, we may need you to make your presence known around the taverns."

Athos stood, "You want to use him as bait." His voice was dangerously low. "You said we'd handle this our way."

"You will be free to do what you will with them. I just want them caught…the sooner the better." Treville told them.

D'Artagnan nodded. "I'll be up and about soon."

"He'll be up and about when I say he is." Aramis corrected him, grinning at d'Artagnan's roll of the eyes. It was good to be able to see his eyes.

Treville accepted that. "I will let the others know of your impending recovery. In the meantime, try not to acquire anymore injuries. Please."

"Says the man who wants to use him as bait." Athos said, sarcastically.

Treville pointed at each of the three inseparables, "I expect at least one of you to be watching him at all times!" He glared at them to make his point. "One more scratch on that boy and I will kick every single one of you out of my regiment!" He left the four men speechless, with their mouths opened.

D'Artagnan looked around the room nervously. "Do you think he meant me as well?" The three turned and glared at them. He shrugged, "You guys are almost ready to retire anyway. I, on the other hand, am still young and have a lot to offer." He couldn't quite see his friends' expressions but he laughed anyway.

"Remind me again why I bother patching you up." Aramis asked.

D'Artagnan chuckled as he, gingerly, laid back on the bed. "You love me." He heard a scoff from someone. "Deny it all you like. I remember what you all said to me, even with my fever."

"It was a moment of weakness. One that won't happen again." Athos drawled.

D'Artagnan pulled the sheet up to his middle and closed his eyes. "Thanks." He mumbled as he fell asleep.

Porthos gave a low laugh, "You know I don't even remember life in Paris before he arrived."

It turns out the Red Guards were not so stupid after all. It's been five days since Treville sent out word about the Red Guards cowardice but there has been no retaliation on their part. It's rare for Red Guards to no respond to such allegations. Athos was getting impatient. He wanted to teach the men a lesson...NOW! "D'Artagnan, is there anything else you can tell us about the guards who attacked you?" Aramis and Porthos shook their heads at the question that had been asked about 10 times.

"Athos, I was blind. I will probably recognise their voices if I hear them again but that's it." D'Artagnan was getting frustrated himself. He wasn't allowed to do anything until his ribs and wrist healed and Athos was driving him crazy with his constant questioning. "Can we please just head to the tavern and try to forget about the Red Guards. I'm fine now." Athos couldn't forget it. He could still hear how scared D'Artagnan was and he was not letting these men get away with what they have done. "Please! Just let me enjoy one night at the tavern where I am not bait. One normal night, then we can go back to the original plan."

Athos sighed and nodded. "Fine. Let's go." D'Artagnan grinned as he got up and headed out of the garrison with his friends.

D'Artagnan was enjoying the night out with his friends. The previous night had consisted of them leaving him alone at the table, hoping the men would think he was vulnerable and attack again. Tonight, he enjoyed the company of his friends. As the night was coming to an end a voice from a table against the wall caught his attention. d'Artagnan turned to it. The man wasn't wearing a Red Guard uniform but d'Artagnan recognised his voice. There were a total of five men at that table. d'Artagnan closed his eyes and concentrated on listening to the men at that table.

Aramis worried when d'Artagnan went quiet. "d'Artagnan, are you alright?"

d'Artagnan didn't answer, he just listened. As each men spoke, they confirmed d'Artagnan's suspicions. He opened his eyes and gave his friend's a warning look. "What is it, d'Artagnan?"

D'Artagnan let out a breath. "Those five men sitting at the table over there." He nodded in the direction of the men. "They're the ones who attacked me." He felt the air temperature drop. Athos looked ready to kill someone. "Please don't do anything that will get you beheaded."

Athos gave him a thin smile. "Don't concern yourself over this. We will handle it."

"I'm the one they attacked." d'Artagnan pointed out.

"Yes, and you still feel the injuries they've caused." Aramis warned. He held up a small bottle. "This will allow us to deal with them without causing a fight."

"But I want to bash their heads together." Porthos complained.

"There are less violent ways of getting revenge and more satisfying ways. Those men will wish they never laid a hand on d'Artagnan." Aramis promised. He stood and walked over to the counter, whispering something in the barmaid's ear and slipping something into her hand. He gave her a kiss and rejoined them.

"What did you do?" D'Artagnan asked.

Aramis smiled, "We should head out and wait for their departure. I have a feeling they will need some help getting back to their garrison."

Athos, Aramis, Porthos, d'Artagnan and Captain Treville were sitting amongst the trees on the outskirts of Paris. Porthos had started a fire for them. Tied to the trees, half naked and blindfolded, were the five Red Guards from the tavern. D'Artagnan stoked the fire. He was getting a little worried about his friends. They all looked like they were ready to kill, including the Captain. Porthos picked up a stone and threw it at one of the guards, hitting his chest. Aramis groaned, "Porthos, that's the third stone you've thrown at them."

"Well, I'm getting bored. Why did you have to put so much in their wine."

"The barmaid was a little heavy handed with it." Aramis winced. "I probably should have told her a couple of drops would be enough."

Porthos growled, about to throw another stone when the men started waking up. He shot to his feet,, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Time for some fun!" The others slowly stood.

Athos walked up to the captain and gave him a hard slap. "Wake up!"

The man growled. "Whoever you are, you're making a big mistake. I'm a captain of the Red Guards." His words slurred, not quite over the effects of the drugs.

"And you attacked a Musketeers over a week ago. Do you remember that?" Athos asked, his voice dangerous.

"How do you know that was us?" The young man in front of d'Artagnan asked, mist coming from his breath as he huffed.

D'Artagnan leaned his head in until his mouth was near his ear. The boy jumped when d'Artagnan spoke. "He recognised you."

"That's a lie. The man was blind!" Another one of the guards called out.

Aramis chuckled. "And you know that because?" The man immediately shut his mouth, knowing he had just given himself away.

"Not very smart, are they?" Porthos smacked his guy over the head.

"Let's get this over with. I need to get back." Captain Treville drew his dagger, holding against the captives throat. The others did the same. The bound men started panicking.

"You can't do this!" Their captain yelled. "It's murder."

d'Artagnan ran his dagger lightly across the man's throat. "Tell, how did it feel to take down a blind man, a man who couldn't defend himself? Did it make you feel strong and powerful, to be able hold the man's life in your hands?" d'Artgnan, ran the dagger down to the gut. "A friend once told me that a gut wound was the worst. Death was inevitable. Mind you, he was talking about getting shot." d'Artagnan pulled out his pistol and cocked it. The guards started struggling against their ropes. "It scary, isn't it? To not be able to see what's about to happen to you? To be in the dark and at the mercy others."

"What are you going to do?" Aramis's man asked in a shaky voice.

Aramis shrugged, knicking the man with his dagger. He jumped back when the man started screaming like a girl. The others turned and glared at Aramis, who was trying to shoosh the guy up. "Sh...sh sh sh sh sh..." but when the man wouldn't stop he punched him across the face. "Damn it!" He shook his hand out. "Why did you make me do that?"

"Alright, men. Time to go and give these boys some alone time." Treville ordered. He picked up a board and hung it over the man's neck.

"What is that?" The Red Guard's captain asked.

"Just a message for passer-bys in the morning." Captain Treville answered. "It's to let them know the kind of scum that your are."

Aramis walked up to d'Artagnan. "I like your sign, the pretty flowers are a nice touch." d'Artagnan grinned at him. "Pretty flowers for the girls." He tapped the man's cheek, hard. Each men had a wooden sign around their necks and the message was simple; We beat up a blind man.

Athos leaned in and whispered into the ear of the captain. "You're lucky I was out-voted because I would've strung you up by the neck and happily watch you swing like a rag-doll. Remember that the next time you attack a defenceless man." Athos waited for the man to respond, but when he didn't he whispered. "Nod your head." The captain did. "Good boy." They gagged the Red guards to stop them from being able to talk to each other or to the people who will walk by in the morning.

"We will send word to your garrison in the morning to come collect." Treville told him. "In the meantime, enjoy the night out under the stars. And if I see any of you near a Musketeer again, I will let my less friendly colleague deal with you."

Porthos hesitated. He didn't want to let them off so easily. He punched his man in the gut, then across the face. Satisfied, he turned to leave. "Was that necessary, my friend?" Aramis asked him.

"What? You got to punch your guys." Porthos shrugged, "It's only fair."

D'Artagnan smiled as they made their way back into the city. He felt good. This little outing had provided closure for him. His life was returning to normal and with his captain and brother's at his side, he couldn't see how life could get any better for him.

THE END!