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veneataur · 6 years

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Fandom: BBC’s The Musketeers

Day 24 of 24

Title: Families of Choice

A/N: This is the last of the advent stories. I still have one to finish up, which will be coming. Apologies for how late this one is. It took me some time to wrangle the story into something passable. I’m done with monthly challenges for a while (they are mentally draining). But I do have a slew of stories to write, so I’ll be writing Musketeer stories still.

The closer they get to the cemetery, the more Porthos thinks this is a really bad idea. He understands the logic given by almost everyone: Lemay, Athos, Sarah, and the Captain. He knows that this is important, but Aramis hasn’t spoken in the last day and didn’t sleep at all last night in the hotel, despite the anxiety medicine Lemay prescribed, their presence, and his normal calming techniques. And the days leading up to today, he’d gotten progressively less sleep.

Seeing him in the backseat, pulled away from Athos, huddled against the window, eyes distant, Porthos wants to turn the car around and head back home. But this was Aramis’ choice. Lemay presented it as an important step in his recovery and something that he should consider doing at some point. A few weeks ago, Aramis approached them hesitantly to let them know that he was going to be making a trip to Virginia the first week of November. At the same time, he and Athos had said they would be coming. They knew his plans, not because Lemay had told them but because there was only one reason for Aramis to go to Virginia. After some arguing, Aramis gave in and they’d seen his mood go down the closer they got to the trip.

Visiting Arlington is not the only part of the trip they have planned. They have the weekend plus a few days. Between them, they had no vacation or personal days left. It had all been used to care for Aramis over the past year. Aramis, being on leave, didn’t have to worry about time. But for Athos and Porthos, the situation was a bit difficult. Treville too was out of days and there was little leeway he could give them. Fortunately, there were some in the task force who donated enough days for their trip.

While the cemetery isn’t their only purpose, it is where they’ve decided to visit first. Aramis wouldn’t be able to enjoy anything else they’d planned, planning which they’d tried to include him on, but he didn’t seem to care much. This is the reason they’ve driven straight from the interstate to the cemetery, bypassing their hotel. They can check in late, anyway.

When they park, Porthos and Athos wait for Aramis to make a move. Minutes pass before anything happens.

“I can’t do this,” Aramis says quietly, voice thick.

“I happen to disagree with that,” Athos says. It’s been hard for him not to comfort Aramis during the second part of their trip, but he knew from the moment Aramis leaned up against the car window, the younger man needed time alone. “But, we can go to the hotel, if you want. You don’t have to do this.”

“Don’t I? Lemay…”

“I know what Lemay said and you know that he left this up to you, when you feel ready and no one can tell you when you are.”

Aramis nods his head lightly, looking down at his hands in his lap playing with a stray thread on his jacket. “I need to but I can’t.”

“You’re not alone. We’re here with you.”

“We’ll walk with you as far as you need,” Porthos says. He’s turned around to be able to look better at the backseat.

“But…,” Aramis begins.

“You are our family, Aramis,” Porthos says. “We will go to the ends of the earth for you.”

“But…”

“And it doesn’t matter how you feel. You could always see us as friends, you are our brother in our eyes and we’ll do whatever we can for you,” Athos says.

Aramis is silent for a few more moments. Then he reaches for the door and steps out into the chilly November air. Athos and Porthos follow without thought.

“You don’t have to,” Aramis says as they begin to walk with him towards the lines of white headstones. He stops and so do they.

“Yes, we do,” Porthos says. “We’re family.”

“And even if we weren’t, we want to,” Athos adds.

“Thanks.” Aramis looks at them both, the gratitude clear in his eyes.

“Lead us to where you need to go,” Porthos says. “Stop when you need.

“Remember that you can always call on us but we’re going to let you have your time,” Athos says. Aramis nods again and continues walking. They hear his attempts to steady his breathing as they keep walking. It’s a slow, steady pace. Athos gazes at the names and dates on the headstones as they walk past the rows. He sees so many who are far too young, their neatly lined up headstones belying the chaos of the battles they died in. Aramis could have easily been in one of these graves, he thinks. Not from the massacre, after then he would’ve been barred from Arlington. But the massacre hadn’t been Aramis’ first glimpse, experience of battle. By far the massacre featured most in his flashbacks, but Athos picked up on other moments of terror in the young man’s life, moments of battle that he just escaped with his life intact.

Aramis stops suddenly. “This is one of them.”

Athos and Porthos wait no more than a foot away though it feels like miles for them. Some months ago, Aramis revealed to them that he’d never been to the grave sites of his teammates killed in the massacre. At first, he hadn’t been told where they were buried and hadn’t the mindset to find them himself. Then a week ago, as they made their plans, he presented them with a list of four names. Four of the six SEALs killed had been buried in Arlington.

How long they spend at each, none of them keep track of. Aramis doesn’t speak and they don’t ask him to, simply standing with him as they move from grave to grave. They come to the fourth grave as the sun is setting.

“You,” someone shouts angrily. “You coward, you bastard. You get away from him.” It’s a woman, around their age and she is closing in fast on them. She continues her tirade all the way. Inches from them two things become clear. Aramis is her target and she is going to hit him. Porthos sees her fist raised but before he or Athos can move, can do more than shout at Aramis to look out, she strikes him, solidly on the side of his face. Unprepared and emotionally exhausted, Aramis falls back, just missing the headstone of his teammate.

“You,” the woman shouts again, moving to launch her self on the prone man. “You have the gall to come back here after what you did.”

Porthos reaches out to grab her, pulling her back gently, but firmly. “Hey, stop it. Now.” Athos goes to Aramis, who hasn’t made a single noise. One hand is on the spot on his cheek where he was hit. His eyes are distant and breathing strangely calm. Experience tells Athos what to do.

“I’m here, ‘Mis. We’re here.” Athos kneels next to him, hesitant to touch Aramis. “Tell me where you are, “Mis. Start with what you can see.” It’s a routine by this point.

There’s silence, then voice low, Aramis starts speaking. “Clouds, the sky.” Aramis doesn’t move his gaze from the sky.

“Good. Now, what can you feel with your hands?” Aramis keeps the one hand on his face, while the other reaches out slowly, lightly.

“Grass. It’s cold.”

Athos continues taking Aramis through his grounding steps. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Porthos dealing with the woman, but it doesn’t concern him. His efforts to calm Aramis are working.

“You back with us,” Athos asks when he sees the distant look nearly gone.

“Yeah.” Aramis nods. He moves to sit up, but his arms give out. Athos moves to prop him up before he falls back. Despite being more with it, slight tremors run the length of Aramis’ body and Athos feels him trying to maintain his breathing. There is a chill that is starting to set into him. He’s not done with this but he’s not going any further, yet.

“You think you can stand?” Athos wants to get him off the ground.

“Maybe.” His voice is low and shaky.

“You can lean against me. You’re going to get a cold sitting on the cold ground.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“Let’s get you to your feet regardless.”

When he’s standing, Aramis is happy to have Athos supporting him. His energy is low from a lack of sleep and food over the last week, his mind and stomach in turmoil at the thought of coming here. Then he sees the woman standing in front of him, feet away and still held back by Porthos. She’s angry still but not yelling at him. He knows her.

“How are you, ‘Mis,’ Porthos asks.

“Still here,” Aramis answers breathlessly.

“You shouldn’t be, you coward,” the woman yells.

“Hey, now. We talked about this,” Porthos says. “You don’t get to call my brother that. He’s a braver man than anyone I know.”

“He’s a coward and he knows it.”

“Amy Richards, isn’t it,” Aramis says.

“You remember him. The man you got killed,” Amy says.

“He didn’t get him killed,” Porthos says.

“I know what happened. I saw the reports. He led them all into battle, got them all killed.”

“It’s been overturned. The Navy changed their verdict and cleared his name.”

“He got him killed. Should’ve died yourself, coward.”

“Is there a problem here,” a man in uniform, a soldier, asks. He walks up to them until he’s standing just a few feet away.

“Yes, we came here so my brother here could visit his friends’ graves and she’s come up and upset him,” Porthos explains. “He has PTSD and doesn’t react well to shouting and the like. We just barely kept him from a full-blown flashback.”

“It’s not like that. See, this is the man who got my husband killed. He’s been hiding away like a coward, too afraid to come out because of what he’s done,” Amy says, accusation clear in her voice.

“You hit him.”

“He deserved it and more.”

“I don’t care who started it,” the soldier says. “I’m going to ask all of you to leave. The cemetery requires silence and respect. If you can’t abide by that, then you’ll have to leave.”

“Why should I leave, he’s the coward. He doesn’t belong here.”

“No, we’ll leave,” Aramis finally says. “Please, Amy, take your time here with Cody. He was a good man and a great father.”

“Are you sure, ‘Mis,” Athos asks.

“Let’s go. I’m ready to go, Athos.” Aramis can’t keep the pleading out of his voice.

“If you’re sure, then we will but not because she’s driving you out.”

“I’m sure. I’m ready to go.”

Porthos lets go of Amy. He doesn’t believe Aramis, but he can see that he’s not in a state to argue. “You’re wrong about what’s happened,” Porthos tells Amy. “He’s a good man who was trying to do the right thing. I understand that you’ve had a rough time, but he has too. Let’s go ‘Mis.” Porthos walks to where Aramis and Athos stand.

“You sure you’re good to go,” Porthos asks.

“Please,” Aramis pleads.

“Alright, let’s go.”

They each support Aramis as he takes unsteady, slow steps. Porthos gives Athos a quick glance. It’s clear that Aramis isn’t over his flashback yet.

“How about we go to the hotel,” Athos says. “We can get checked in and decide what we want to do next.”

Aramis nods his head. They’re nearly at the car when they hear a voice behind them.

“Wait, wait!” They turn quickly to see that it’s a teenage girl running towards them. Athos and Porthos move in front of Aramis. “Are you René? Were you my dad’s friend?”

“Who are you,” Porthos asks. The girl is in her early teens.

“I’m April, Cody’s daughter. My dad, he wrote me letters, talked about René a lot in them.”

“’Mis?” Athos looks back.

“René?” April steps closer causing Aramis to tense and Porthos and Athos to move in closer. “Do you remember me? We met at a couple family picnics.”

“Just stay there.” Porthos puts a hand out. “Now, just like I’ve told your mom. Aramis here was cleared of all charges. He was just trying to do what was right, what needed to be done. He feels guilty enough without your family adding on to it.”

“I know. I read about it in the news. I’m happy for you, René. After everything dad told me about you, I couldn’t believe that you’d lead anyone into anything so dangerous without good reason.”

“Why?” Aramis’ voice is quiet.

“What?”

“Why? How did you find out?” It’s an effort to speak louder.

“I was trying to find you, René.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Why?”

“I…” April looks down, swallows, then much more shyly says, “I wanted to talk with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You are the last person to see my dad alive. I wanted to find out what happened. Mom won’t tell me what happened. She’s just angry or sad all the time. And none of his other friends will tell me. I’m just a little kid to them but you were never like that with me.”

As far as Aramis can recall right now, their meetings were brief. She was often busy going off to play with some other kids instead of wanting to hang out with some adults talking about serious stuff, like their next deployment. What little he did interact with her, he spoke with her just like he did with other children, with respect because even children deserve respect, not to be pushed aside.

“Wh… what do… you want to … know?” Aramis’ mind is on edge still and with the thought of having to recall back to that night, he feels himself tipping over. Then, there’s a steadying hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. Athos. It’s always Athos. For now, it’s enough to keep him here.

“This really isn’t the best time,” Porthos says.

“It’s fine,” Aramis says.

“No, it’s not a good time. You’re exhausted.”

When he legs quake beneath him, Aramis is forced to concede the point. He swallows heavily before speaking, “It, his death, he wasn’t alone. I… I had a hold of him until he drew his last breath. He said he loved you very much. His last thoughts were of you, April.”

April’s eyes tear up, slowly falling down her cheeks.

“There… um… there was a letter he wrote for you,” Aramis says, forcing himself to keep his eyes on April.

“Because of the mission?”

“No. When we got there, we both wrote letters to our family. We kept them in our trunks, so if something happened…” Porthos and Athos look at each other, thinking of the letters Aramis wrote, what he told his family.

“Where is it?” April takes an eager step forward and this time, Porthos and Athos aren’t on edge.

“It’s with his stuff. I don’t have it. We always left them in our trunks because we knew they would be sent back.”

“Mom must have it. I told her I wanted to get in touch with you last year and she grounded me for a month. I’m sorry about her.”

“Don’t apologize for other people’s actions,” Aramis says.

“Dad always said that.”

“Your dad was one of the few good men I knew. He didn’t deserve to die out there.”

“And you don’t deserve what’s happened to you either.”

“That’s what I’m told.” Aramis leans against the car, feeling weakness overtake his body once more.

“It’s true, ‘Mis,” Porthos says. “And you know that we’re going to keep reminding you of it until you believe it.”

Aramis nods tiredly.

“I should go. Mom’s going to be angry enough as it is,” April says.

“Tell her it was my fault,” Aramis says.

“No,” April says quickly. “Enough has been blamed on you. I stopped you. I’ll take the blame. You know well enough what happens when the wrong person takes the blame.”

“You shouldn’t be in trouble because of me.”

“And I stopped you because I wanted to know more. I’d like to talk with you more about dad. Nobody will and I miss him.” She tries to hold back the tears.

“Your mom will have nothing of it,” Aramis says. “And,” he begins after a pause, “as much as I’d love to talk with you about your dad, I’m not in the best of mental states right now. I don’t know when I will be.”

“Are you okay with waiting,” Athos asks April.

“Yes, of course. I mean, I want to know more, but I do understand. Dad said you are a good man, René. That you always deserved better than you got at times. He’d hate it if I pushed you before you were ready.”

“Good. Then, I suggest meeting up again in about five years’ time. You’ll be old enough then, April, to make decisions for yourself and Aramis, you’ll be in the right mindset to talk about her dad.”

“That’s… that’s a good idea, Athos. Thanks. Are you okay with that, April,” Aramis asks, looking at her again.

“Yes. Where should we meet?”

“How about at your father’s grave? I’ll bring a picnic lunch and you can ask me all the questions you want and I’ll do my best to answer.”

“Sounds good. I wish you the best, René. And, as lame as I know it is, I’m really sorry for what’s happened. You didn’t deserve it. I know what you’re going to say but listen to your brothers. You’re a fortunate man. It’s not often you get such caring brothers as you have.”

“I know.” Aramis nods his head tiredly. The motion sets him off balance. Porthos quickly moves to catch him, mostly carrying him to get him in the backseat and buckled in.

“April,” Athos says as the young teenager is turning to walk away. She pauses and turns back towards him. He takes a couple steps to close the gap. “Aramis, René as you call him, lives with my friend and I. We’re Musketeers. If your mom gives you too much trouble, if it starts to get bad and you’re not comfortable getting in touch with the police here, you have friends with the Musketeers. One call and we’ll come.”

“You don’t know me.”

“It’s clear that Aramis cares about you. You’re special to him and there’s not a lot of people left like that in his life. I won’t have anything happen to someone who’s special to him. And more than that, I won’t stand by while a child is abused.”

“It’s nothing like that. Mom gets angry and grounds me but that’s it.”

“I can start like that and become worse. You have friends with the Musketeers, though.”

“Musketeers? I’ve heard about them.”

“Yes, we’ve had a couple big cases that put us in the national headlines.”

“Is Aramis one, too?”

“Once he recovers, he will be. He’s making a lot of progress, but we don’t know when he’ll come back.” Athos pauses. “I need to get going, get him back to the hotel so he can rest after today. Anytime, though. A single call to Athos, Porthos, or Aramis and we’ll come.”

“Thank you. I don’t think it’ll come to that, but thank you for your concern and please, look after him for me. He deserves to be taken care of.”

As April walks back through the cemetery, Athos looks into the backseat of the car where Porthos is sitting with Aramis. The younger man is leaning against Porthos, head buried in his shoulder, his own shoulders shaking. It’s going to be a long evening and even longer night, but Athos doesn’t regret anything. Aramis has fit in perfectly with their small family and after less than a year, Athos can’t imagine anything different, not even with the mental illnesses. They are just another part of their brother. It makes life more challenging but never impossible.

And as hard of a time they have with the illnesses, he knows that Aramis has it even worse, much worse. The young man is braver than anyone he knows, to decide to keep fighting when he knows he was ready to give up at so many points. He’s proud of Aramis and wishes that Aramis could find that same pride in himself. But for now, he thinks, sighing, it’s time to get Aramis to the hotel and work on getting him through the rest of the day. He hates seeing Aramis struggle and even more hates that they are largely helpless.

#bbc the musketeers #aramis #athos #porthos #fan fiction #modernAU #advent prompts #windy city musketeers #oc

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