Breathing

Hot, Not Cold! Part II

It's not too late for d'Artagnan. We can save him a lot of suffering—possibly have him well by tomorrow—if we get started on this treatment right away."

"Well, let's ge' started then." Porthos resolved. "I'll help you gather up anything you need, Cécile. If we can get d'Artagnan well by tomorrow, I'm willin' to do whatever it takes."

"If I had known d'Artagnan was sick, I would have brought everything we needed with me. We have plenty more in the infirmary, let's go Porthos." The nurse turned and left from the room with a newly-encouraged Porthos on her heels.

*****

Cécile mixed together elderberry, ginger and boneset in hot water and allowed the tea to steep and cool to a safe temperature. Porthos readied the blankets and set them down beside the bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled d'Artagnan upright into his arms, holding him tight against his chest.

"d'Artagnan, I need you to drink this tea." Cécile brought the cup of tea to the Gascon's mouth, carefully. "It's going to help you get better."

The young Musketeer turned his head away, refusing the proffered tea. "No, I d-don't w-want it; I'll just throw it up again."

"Dammit, d'Artagnan, don't argue with the nurse." Porthos threatened with a low growl. "Do as she says and drink the tea!" The exhausted man snapped.

Aramis's eyes widened at the uncharacteristic yelling of his dear friend and eyed him with concern.

The Gascon obeyed the harsh orders and allowed the nurse to slowly pour the liquid into his mouth, taking little sips until he couldn't drink anymore. "No more, p-please."

"Very good, d'Artagnan, that's enough." Cécile patted his knee softly. "Okay, let's lay him down and cover him up with the blankets."

"Um, 'Mis," Porthos stopped at seeing Aramis still sitting on the bed looking downcast. "You can't stay on the bed if we cover up the pup with these blankets, you'll get too hot."

"Why isn't there a third bed in here?" Cécile asked, looking around the room.

"'Mis, do you want me to go get another cot? Or would you like to lay on the bed with. . ." Porthos stopped himself short at the suggestion of lying down next to Athos.

"No," Aramis sighed, "I'll sit in a chair." The medic got off the bed and moved to a chair next to Athos's bedside. He sat quietly staring at his friend lying on the bed, his head tilted to the side in deep thought. "On second thought, I think I will lie down next to Athos." Aramis's face brightened as he looked to Porthos. "Help me scoot him over, Porthos."

"Hold on a minute, pup." Porthos patted d'Artagnan on the shoulder. "Be 'ight back."

Aramis and Porthos worked together to position Athos on the furthest side of the bed. Aramis then lay on the bed and pulled the unconscious man carefully into his arms. He positioned Athos's head on his chest and wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulder and back. Turning his head toward the wall, the medic closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Porthos returned to d'Artagnan's bedside, wiping tears from his eyes. He readied the blankets and prepared to pull them over the young Gascon. "Alright pup, let's get you tucked in real good."

"No, Porthos, I'm going to get too hot under here." d'Artagnan complained as his body already was heating up from the tea."

"'At's the whole purpose, pup. We want you to sweat so hopefully by tomorrow you are feelin'a lot better. Now just quiet yourself, close your eyes and go to sleep." Porthos pulled the blankets over the young Musketeer.