#the Jean jacket is cool but too much money and it should’ve been a lighter colour to make the embroidery pop

[veneataur]

Fandom: BBC’s The Musketeers

Day 21 of 24

Title: Here We Go A-Caroling

He is wearing too many layers and with the heat in the car it is far too hot to be comfortable. Worse yet, they still have another neighborhood to go to, another couple dozen houses to sing carols at.

“You okay over there, ‘Mis,” Porthos asks. He is at the wheel dealing with the snow and traffic to get them to their last set of houses. Athos is in the back seat playing navigator with his phone to make sure they get to the right neighborhoods. Meanwhile, Aramis is in the front passenger seat, reclining a bit because it eases the pressure on his aching ribs.

“Yeah.” Aramis sighs, wishing that he could convince them to turn the heater off. It’s blasting because they’re worried about him catching another chest cold this season, especially given his cracked ribs thanks to him tackling one of their suspects earlier this week.

“You sure?” Athos leans forward to look at Aramis. He’s bundled up in three layers, not including the long johns that were an early Christmas gift from Treville.

“Yeah. It’s just not the best time to have to do this.”

“But we are raising a lot of money, even with you not able to fully sing,” Porthos says, turning into the next subdivision. The Musketeers have an annual Christmas caroling competition between the teams to see who can raise the most for charity. Each team is assigned a different set of neighborhoods and has to have their caroling completed by Christmas Eve.

“Part of that is to get me to shut up so they don’t have to hear me trying,” Aramis says, shifting in his seat to find a more comfortable position.

“No, I think it’s out of pity when you can’t catch your breath after holding a long note,” Porthos says lightly.

“It’s not my fault.” Aramis doesn’t want to pout because he’d been looking forward to this night. While he does like singing, he likes singing for charity even more, but tonight was not the best night with the snow, cold, and aching ribs. This is his first year participating and he hopes he can help boost Athos and Porthos higher up on the list. The winning team gets a few extra days of vacation.

“It’s alright, ‘Mis,” Athos says, running a quick hand over the man’s neck to calm him. “We understand and don’t want you to hurt yourself. If you can’t hold the note, then don’t try.”

“I’m glad you came out with us, Aramis,” Porthos says. “But I didn’t expect you to. Thought you might take the Trevilles up on their offer to spend the night with them.” Aramis has had a good year. He’s done with his probation and his mental health is much improved but he still doesn’t do well with solitude, especially during the holidays.

“Yes, you make this caroling thing much better than just me and Porthos singing,” Athos says.  

Aramis pauses. “Thank you, both of you.” Showing gratitude for such praise is still foreign to him but it is something Lemay has stressed is important for him to do. “I will admit that despite these ribs, I am having a good time myself.”

“Good because we’re at the next string of houses.” Porthos parks the car on the side of the street and turns it off. “We’ll park here and walk to the houses.”

Aramis holds in his relieved sigh at getting a good chance to get some fresh air. It will be cold, but it might help the growing queasiness in his stomach.

“You good with walking a bit, Aramis,” Porthos asks.

“Yeah. Some fresh air sounds good.”

“A little warm in all of those layers?”

“Just a bit.” Aramis gets out of the car slowly with the others there waiting to steady him if needed. The longer he walks, the better he feels about being too warm, but the singing is starting to hurt his chest. At the last couple houses he can’t find the breath to properly sing. He manages something weak and pathetic, he imagines if he were the only one singing. Fortunately, the people they visit don’t take notice but Athos and Porthos do. The moment they make their final collection and thank the family, they usher him back to the car.

He’s back in the front seat, the heat blasting once again. As the miles go by he finds himself drifting more as the queasiness returns, ebbing and flowing out of synch with his aching ribs. He mumbles some weak reassurances that he’s okay when they ask but feels the car speed up nonetheless.

He doesn’t realize when they’re back until the car door opens and he nearly tumbles out reaching for the cool air.

“Aramis,” Athos asks, catching him before he hits the ground. Porthos rushes to help.

“What happened,” Porthos asks.

“I don’t know. He just tumbled out as soon as I opened the door,” Athos explains. “Aramis, come on, wake up.”

Aramis mumbles and tries to open his eyes. “’thos?”

“What’s wrong? Are you sick? Hurt?”

“Hot and hurt.”

“Hot?” Athos looks to Porthos.

It’s then that it hits Porthos. “He’s wearing four layers, Athos, and sitting right in front of the heaters on full blast. He’s far too hot, probably feeling sick.”

To emphasize Porthos’ point, Aramis chooses that moment to throw up, narrowly avoiding their shoes. Porthos pulls Aramis out of the car and sits him on a nearby stool in the closed garage. He then starts unzipping and removing the layers. Aramis is quiet, red-faced, sweaty, and breathing heavily as he works to strip him. Once they have him down to his jeans and a t-shirt, they help him in, supporting him. They leave the pile of jackets and clothing behind.

Porthos sets him in the den while Athos runs up to get some lighter clothes. When Athos returns with a pair of sweats and a cool, wet washcloth, Porthos has Aramis stripped to his boxers, the long johns in a pile on the floor. Quickly and without complaint from him, Aramis is dressed in the sweats and back in the t-shirt, then laid out on the couch with the washcloth on his forehead to help him cool down.

“How’re you feeling,” Porthos asks as he helps Aramis to sit up to drink some water. Athos adds another pillow underneath him while he’s up.

“Sick but better.” Aramis’ voice is weak from the overheating.

“Good. You feel like eating?”

“Not really.”

“How about some fruit? It’s already cut up. Bite-size pieces that you can eat with your fingers.”

“You need to get something in your stomach before you take ibuprofen,” Athos says.

Aramis nods his head. “I can try.” He wants the pain relief more than the food but he understands the need to eat something.

“That’s enough for me.”

“Me too,” Porthos adds. “Now let’s get you sitting up so you can eat this better.” Porthos, always ready with the food, has a bowl of cut-up fruit in hand. He sets it aside, helping Athos to get Aramis sitting up. It’s more leaning than sitting, but it works. Porthos takes a seat next to him, holding the fruit bowl so Aramis can focus on just eating and not trying to hold on to the dish. Athos leans up against the couch on the floor near Aramis, waiting if he needs to help.

Aramis eats the fruit slowly, but steadily.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were too hot,” Porthos asks after a while.

Aramis shrugs his shoulders. “I thought it was fine. Thought I could handle it.”

“What about on the ride back?”

“Didn’t even realize it was happening again.”

“Your ribs,” Porthos says. “They were hurting before we even finished with the houses. Between that and the heat, you never really stood a chance.”

“Probably should’ve stayed with the Trevilles,” Athos says calmly,

“Probably,” Aramis agrees, leaning his head against the couch. “But I had fun tonight. Despite the aches and overheating, I had a good time. I’m happy I went out, spent some time with the two of you. It’s been a good year and I didn’t want to ruin it with staying home.”

“One night doesn’t ruin a year, ‘Mis,” Porthos says. Athos stands to sit on the armrest of the couch so he can better see Aramis.

“I know.” Aramis pauses. He licks his lips, thinking. “You two have helped me so much, I wanted to do what I could to get you two the extra vacation days. You could both use them to take some time to yourself, go out of town or see family, if you want.”

“’Mis, we need nothing in return for helping you. We’re happy to and do so without expectations.”

“And,” Athos begins, “if we get those extra vacation days, us three are going somewhere because you two are my family, my brothers and I’ll go nowhere without you two.”

“I second that,” Porthos says, running a gentle hand through Aramis’ hair. It’s grown long again, but nowhere near as bad as last time and is kept up well. “We go somewhere together or we stay here, if we get those days.”

“Really,” Aramis questions.

“Really.”

Aramis nods his head, thinking again. “I would be overjoyed to take a trip with the two of you. You’ve done so much more than any friend has. You’re not even friends anymore. You’re… you’re brothers, siblings that I would be honored and proud to welcome into my family and trust with their safety.”

“I’m happy that you can put your trust in us now,” Porthos says.

“Likewise,” Athos says. “And know, we’ll never let you down.”

“Never.”

“I know,” Aramis says calmly. “I know.”

“You feeling better,” Porthos asks.

“Some. Still sore.”

Athos quickly gets him some medicine for his pain and the three settle in on the couch, with Aramis’ feet in Porthos’ lap and his head in Athos’ and a blanket tossed over him. The TV is on, playing a movie that all are only half paying attention to. Aramis is nearly asleep while Porthos and Athos are still in awe of the big shift in their friendship tonight. It is the moment they were waiting for and after so long, they thought it wouldn’t come. But it did and it is the best Christmas present either could receive.

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