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[somepoorsoul]

For two weeks, Athos has been chasing a ghost.

He has caught glimpses, of course, and more than glimpses. This creature that wears his brother’s face appears in the dark of night to taunt him and remind him of the horrors his failings have set loose upon the world. Each night, despite himself, he goes searching - for more abuse, and more pain, and another desperate glimpse of Thomas’ face, even twisted in agony.

You are the monster, Thomas’ cold eyes, as blue as Athos’ own, seem to say every time they do find each other on this hellish Darrow’s ashy, abandoned streets. You are the reason I stand before you thus, a creature of blood and hate. You should have protected me, and instead you brought a deadly Jezebel into our house, and abandoned your family, and brought pain to every person you have known since.

Even when Aramis and Porthos stand by his side, the truth of that silent accusation lodges his way into his heart each time he catches sight of Thomas’ ghostly form.

Now, night has fallen again on this dark Darrow, and the same force, the same need that has drawn Athos to the streets each night draws him to the Bramford’s roof. Leaving Porthos and Aramis to sleep in what is left of their apartment - after much argument, he had finally convinced them to rest for a few hours at least - he takes the stairs to the very top, and there, looks over Darrow’s eerie skyline. His heart pounds and his expression is tight with expectation - though for what, he does not know.

Above him, not a star is visible in the sky. Below, no light shines.

Then, somewhere behind him, Athos hears a sudden sound that interrupts the ghostly silence.

Comments

[du_vallon]

Porthos' look is a dangerous one as he refuses to move, glad that Aramis has been so vocal as to make sure the truth is what everyone is hearing. "Athos, don't believe a word it says," he growls, wishing he had some iron on him as he's been reading that iron is a good way to repel spirits. "It's a malevolent thing."

[somepoorsoul]

“Are you sure about that?” the demon asks, lazily toying with the blood-soaked knife. The question is simple, but Athos thinks he might choke upon it, for he is certain of nothing. He is not sure if this creature is a demon, for in Darrow, the real Thomas could come to haunt him with accusations and threats as easily as a monster who merely wears his voice and face. And by God, he is not sure that he remains blameless in the man’s death; this brother he loved was in his care, and he was murdered, and he was not the last man to suffer because of Athos mistakes and failures.

Athos trembles, but he can feel the furious, protective presence of Aramis and Porthos behind him, and somehow that is enough to keep him standing. Are you sure? Thomas had asked, and now Athos has his answer. He is sure of one thing.

He is sure of them.

“Yes,” Athos answers in a breath, and raises his sword to fight.

[afineseamstress]

Aramis draws his own. This battle is a personal one, but he will not leave Athos to fight it alone, and he knows that Porthos will not either. He will let Athos take point, but if this demon has trickery beyond its cruel words, Aramis will not let it harm Athos, nor Porthos beside him.

"Come and try," he taunts, tossing his hat to the side. "Or are your lies all you have to fight with?"

[du_vallon]

Porthos has no sword on him, but in his state, he could probably hardly lift it up. He's got his fists, though, and this demon hasn't showed him that those'll be useless. "I think they are," he agrees, keeping his voice light. "Certainly not those weak fists. They don't feed you in the afterlife, I suppose."

[somepoorsoul]

Thomas snarls; it is an angry, animal sound, like nothing the poised young man would have done while he lived. Athos is prepared to fight him now, but it helps that the creature lunges at Porthos in its fury, and Athos does not hesitate the briefest moment. He moves between the man he loves and their attacker with brutal swiftness, knocking the knife away with his sword. The creature comes at him again, and again Athos knocks him back. Now, it stumbles, and rights itself with the knife still in hand, and all at once the brothers are toe-to-toe.

Only a few seconds pass, but they feel like a lifetime. Athos inhales sharply; he can see Thomas raise the knife, and knows it is a better weapon in such close quarters than his own rapier. He can picture the steel cutting through his flesh - an appropriate ending after all the horror he has caused, surely. But what then? Would this monster be satisfied to let Aramis and Porthos go free? He would not.

Athos must act.

When Thomas’ arm is raised, Athos swings his fist at him, landing a punch hard enough to push the creature back, and then he is on him with his sword again Athos pushes Thomas back, and back, even as it raises its arms in meager protection, and finally stumbles to the ground.

The creature’s eyes glow red with fury and fear. “You will spend eternity paying for your sins,” it hisses, but now Athos does not know how he ever mistook this demon for Thomas de la Fere. “You will pay for this forever more-“

The demon screams as Athos runs it through.

[afineseamstress]

The demon wearing Thomas' face lies bloody on the ground, and Aramis takes his first full breath in ages, his hands all but cramped around his sword as he waited those perilous few moments. Not even a demon could outmatch Athos with a blade, but even Athos' nerve could falter in such a trial - Aramis is glad to see it done, and even moreso, glad that Athos has found the courage to silence his tormentor.

Taking Porthos' arm to steady him, Aramis moves forward to bring them to Athos side. "You have paid enough," he says quietly. "More than enough now."

[du_vallon]

Porthos leans heavily into Aramis' helping arms, feeling helpless but knowing that the immediate threat is over (though there's still plenty to fear in the city). He'll get Aramis to patch him up again after, but right now, they have to worry about Athos. "Aramis, hug him," he insists gruffly.

"Or Athos, step into his arms, but I need one of you to embrace the other."

[somepoorsoul]

But Athos is trembling so hard that he cannot even keep his feet. His sword falls from his hand, clattering on the pavement, and Athos follows, sinking to his knees with his face buried in his arms, where he shakes, and shakes. He does not even notice when the dark, ash-filled Darrow melts away, and by some miracle they return to the city they know. Thomas is gone, the streetlights glow again, and the sounds of the city filter into the alley where they are gathered.

[afineseamstress]

Heart aching, Aramis maneuvers he and Porthos down to the ground and pulls Athos to him, cradling him away from the world even as it changes, brightens, freeing them at last from their endless nightmare. "It's all right now," he murmurs, staring sadly over Athos' shoulder at Porthos. It is over, but it never should have happened to Athos at all. "It will all be all right."

[du_vallon]

Porthos lets out a grunt when he hits the ground, but relief floods him for the changing sky and the way the city lights up again. He could weep, as it's been nearly two weeks of that ashy grey and he just needs to hold onto them. He pushes Aramis around Athos, forcing a hug and a hold because he's too weak to do that right now.

"Breathe, Athos," he compels. "Just breathe."

[somepoorsoul]

Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, Athos tries to listen, tries to do what they say. For some time his breaths come in small, sobbing gasps, but finally they begin to steady. Slowly he becomes aware of the nearby sound of automobiles, the brightening of the light around them, and most importantly, the arms wrapped tightly around him. “Aramis,” he whispers, voice choked. “Porthos."

[afineseamstress]

They must make for a sight, huddled as they are on the sidewalk, but Aramis would not move for the world. They are safe and they are together, even if they are hurting - the worst is over now.

"It's all right," he says again, holding Athos tightly as he weeps, grateful for the shield of Porthos' embrace. "We can finally go home now. You were so brave, Athos. We are so proud of you."

[du_vallon]

Porthos only keeps his hold on the both of them, as protective as he can be. He refuses to let go of them, refuses to let Athos down when he needs them the most. "You did good, lapin," he soothes. "We understand," he vows. "You did the right thing and it took all your courage."

He glances around them, hoping Aramis will condone a hospital visit instead of the usual at-home treatment, just this once.

[somepoorsoul]

Athos shudders, thoughts of that demon still mingling with memories of his brother, the day he died, the knife in Anne’s hand dripping blood. Now that blood is on his sword; he shudders again, and coughs, and struggles to focus on the soothing sound of Aramis’ and Porthos’ words.

Thank God they are so close to home. Athos longs for a shower long enough to clean away the blood, and muck, and fear of the last two weeks off his skin; he longs for warm sheets and a familiar bed. Slowly he raises his head and wipes a hand over his eyes to clear away the wetness there. “I need a drink,” he manages to rasp. “And then you, Aramis, need to get Porthos patched up."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis grimaces for Porthos' stubborn wounds. It has been weeks, and still they manage to persist. "We are not leaving you to drink alone," he tells Athos, for the thought of leaving him now is unthinkable. "Drink at home. We will all clean up together, and sleep safely for the first time in far too long."

[du_vallon]

Porthos releases his palm from his side, where stitches have broken free and left his wound (from when Oliver had kicked him into the wall and something sharp and long like a rebar had scraped and punctured). Must have opened when his feet hit the ground. He struggles to his feet, happy that the bruises have begun to heal at least. "We've got plenty of alcohol and a very big, very warm bed for you," he agrees.

[somepoorsoul]

“Check his wounds yourself, then.” Athos lacks the strength to argue further, but he insists upon that much. Aramis may not be a modern doctor, but he can check for infections and broken bones. By God, Athos will not have Porthos suffer further harm because they were too busy looking after his well-being.

Inhaling a few more slow, shuddering breaths, Athos allows Aramis and Porthos to help him to his feet. He is still trembling when he puts away his sword, but remains standing. “Home,” he says, voice still hoarse. “Let’s go home."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis curses for the blood staining Porthos' shirt. Perhaps free of that ashen world, the wound will finally heal. He can only hope that adrenaline will carry him long enough to restitch it properly. Already he feels lulled by their new, comparative safety. He feels as if he could sleep for years, now finally able, but he will need to get through the stitches without his hands shaking with exhaustion first. The sooner they reach home, the better.

Aramis pulls Athos in against his side, ready to steady the both of them on their journey home.

[du_vallon]

"It's fine," Porthos says gruffly. "They pulled when my feet hit the ground, it's not injured again. A few stitches and I'm fine again." He just wants to feel fine again, and he wants to sleep. He wants all three of them to sleep curled up in their bed for days. He starts the slow walk inside forcibly, out of sheer stubbornness just to get them moving.

[somepoorsoul]

Athos sends Porthos a Look - he has enough of his mind to show his disapproval, if not much more - but begins the slow walk to the Bramford’s front door without further comment. He leans heavily against Aramis, too tired to even feel the shame of being made so helpless. For once, he is grateful for the elevator inside the building, relieved when it takes them swiftly to their floor. Within minutes of departing that ash-filled hell, they are back in their comforting apartment once again.

Athos has never been so glad to see these familiar rooms.