Breathing

Two Steps Back

Aramis sat watching his friend sleep. Athos was finally relaxed enough to sleep through the minor bumps in the road; his head bobbed side to side with the bounces of the wheels. If the remainder of the road was this smooth he could sleep all the way to Paris. The rest would do him good.

Aramis suddenly realized his headache was almost gone. "Athos was right, maybe I'll get some sleep while I can." The medic smiled as he closed his eyes but just as Aramis began to fall asleep, the wagon hit a deep hole.

BAM!

The jarring and the pounding of the wooden wheels seemed to reverberate through Aramis's bones, chattering his teeth.

Athos woke with a gasp, "damn!" He cried out, squeezing his eyes tightly shut against the pain coursing through his body. He grabbed the sides of the litter with shaking hands, as if trying to still the tremors shaking his entire body.

Aramis quickly placed his hands on Athos's shoulder to calm him. "It's alright—I'm here. Easy, Athos, just take it easy."

Beads of sweat began forming on Athos's forehead and temples. The drops of sweat pooled and rolled down his face like streams of tears. Soon, his skin was covered with a sheen of sweat. His hair dampened and clumped, sticking to his face; his shirt plastered itself to his chest and back.

"I can't take any more of this," Athos blurted, a desperate tone in his voice. "J-just let me out. Leave. . . leave me by the road. . . please."

"What?" Aramis was stunned. "What kind of crazy talk is that? I am not letting you out of here. And I'm certainly not leaving you beside the road, Athos!"

"Dammit to hell," Athos hissed through clenched teeth. "Let me r-ride my horse then. It'll be. . . be better than this damn wagon. 'Mis . . please!"

"Athos, you need to calm down." Aramis tried to soothe. "The captain said that you cannot ride—you're in no condition to be on horseback. You couldn't sit upright in the saddle—not with those wounds in your sides."

BAM!

"God, please stop!" Athos hissed, squeezing the sides of the litter so tight his knuckles turned white. "S-stop the wagon. . . we need to stop. I will not do th-this. . . do this anymore!"

"Athos, you know the captain will not stop; he's trying to get us back to Paris before nightfall. Can you hold on just a little while longer? Maybe he'll let us stop for a break soon.

"Athos!" Porthos called in to the wagon. "We canno' stop now. We're clearing the edge of Torfou. No way are we stoppin' near here. We have to keep moving."

"Torfou? No. . ." Athos's eyes grew wide.

"'Mis, isn't there something you can do to calm him down?" Porthos growled.

"Do you want to get in here and do this, Porthos?" Aramis snapped. "Don't you think I am trying to calm him down?"

"What if. . . they're waiting. . . in the trees?" Athos loosened a hand from the litter to grasp Aramis's hand.

"Athos, there is no one in the forest." Aramis said matter-of-factly. "We're already out of the forest now."

Athos was not hearing Aramis's reassuring words. In his mind, they were in imminent danger among the trees of Torfou. "They might be hiding. . . in the t-trees. 'Mis, we have. . . we have to be ready."

"Athos, we are ready." Aramis reassured his friend. "Why do you think Tréville brought along a dozen armed brother Musketeers to escort us home? If you don't have faith our brothers can handle raiders without us. . ."