Double Trouble

Chapter Eleven: Memories

EPILOGUE: MEMORIES

Two Weeks Later:

I don't know how I'm going to walk in that place again," said Aramis, looking down at his hands.

Aramis closed his eyes, feeling the gentle rhythm of his horse, Belle, beneath him, almost lulling him to sleep.

Except that he's afraid to go to sleep; when he sleeps he sees Athos's face. In sleep, Aramis is forced to relive the nightmare of losing Athos every time he dreams.

The unseeing, empty eyes of Athos haunt his dreams.

At the château, Aramis asked Athos not to close his eyes. How many times did he tell him, "don't you dare close your eyes, Athos! Keep them open, Athos. Look at me, Athos. Don't go to sleep, Athos!"

If only he could close the eyes in his dreams.

Aramis would give anything if the mission to Orléans, and all that happened because of it, was just a really bad, fever-induced nightmare. He wishes that at any moment he would wake up to find Athos looking down at him and smiling.

Aramis wonders if he'll ever be able to close his eyes again without being haunted by the lifeless eyes of Athos.

I wish I could see his entire face—not just the eyes. . .

"If only I could see his face one more time. . ."

"God, if I could just hear his slow drawl again. If I could just hear Athos's voice once again telling me everything was going to be alright."

"I have to put on my uniform, walk into that garrison-knowing he's not there—and he'll never be there again, how do I do it?"

"I don't want to go back. . ."

"'Mis, stop it already!" scolded d'Artagnan. "We talked about this at the farm. How long are you going to carry on a conversation with yourself? I thought we got all of this out of your system back there?"

"He's right, 'Mis, Porthos agreed. "You're not helping the situation any—in fact, I think you're making things worse. We just got to take it one step at a time. Take it one day at a time, brother.

Flashback: Farm in Gascony:

The fireplace is warm, sounds of crackling and popping is soothing background noise; the light from the fire causes shadows to dance around the dark walls of the cabin.

There is a mix of empty and yet unopened bottles of wine scattered about the room on tables and the floor beside the fireplace where Aramis, Porthos and d'Artagnan are sitting.

While they drink, when not lost in their own thoughts, they reminisce as they drown their sorrows of Athos—one sip at a time.

Porthos takes a fork from his empty plate and holds it up, staring at it. He chuckles and shakes his head, "this looks just like the fork I used as my dueling weapon after I won at lansequenet. Of course, I may have cheated. . . a lit'le."

"Athos said it wasn't a fair fight if I was unarmed and that stupid fork was there so I grabbed it," Porthos laughed.

"That was when the guy took your sword, right?" d'Artagnan asked. "I remember you mentioned that one time before," he smiled.

"Yeah, and I would've beat the guy too but Athos knocked him out—he was growing impatient and said we were late meetin' with Aramis," Porthos recalled.

"Before we left, I went to the table to collect my winnings and Athos sees the cards I had hidden away, tucked into my sleeve," Porthos says slyly.