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[afineseamstress]

He loses track of time again.

The room is well lit, loud beyond the door and bustling with activity when doctors or nurses enter, but Aramis drifts. In that damnable basement, his only knowledge of passing minutes was the degree of his own thirst, and here in his bed, he can only count the continued ease of his breaths, and the pass of familiar calloused fingers over his own knuckles where his hands lie in the sheets.

There is some sort of brace on one of his wrists. Aramis has not yet recovered the nerve to ask if his hand can still pull a trigger, even if he could speak without effort. His head is too heavy to turn away from the sight, and Aramis shifts his eyes, fighting sleep to discern the new shape in the door.

He hopes it belongs to someone without a clipboard.

[open post if the spirit moves you]

Comments

[du_vallon]

"They weren't pleased we both crawled into the back with you," Porthos admits, shifting his fingers higher so he can start to play with Aramis' straggles of hair, idly prying piece by piece off his forehead so he can set it aside and touch it gently. "We had no way back and there was no way either of us were leaving you alone."

He breathes out slowly and wishes he could tug Aramis on top of him. "How's the pain?" he murmurs. "Should I increase the drugs?"

[afineseamstress]

"I am glad you stayed," says Aramis, leaning into the gentle brush of Porthos' fingers in his hair. "Even if I was little more than animal. It would have been more torment if you were not."

For the question, he stretches as much as he can, but no pain sounds in his body save for the ever present scratch of his throat. "It is alright. Perhaps some water." His lips quirk. "A sponge bath if you are up for it."

[du_vallon]

"I don't think I could have left you. I would have been terrified something was going to happen," Porthos confesses as he continues to stroke Aramis' hair slowly, worried for the way Aramis is still hooked up to so many machines. "I'll fetch the water, but I don't know that I want to try and move you too much," he says, shifting to grasp the pitcher so he can pour Aramis a glass.

"Here," he murmurs softly, holding the cup out so Aramis doesn't have to take it in hand.

[afineseamstress]

"For the best," Aramis murmurs, for a moment bending all his addled concentration on keeping his head upright so that Porthos can tip the water down his throat. He swallows with satisfaction, relaxing after in near exhaustion from the simple task.

"I prefer to be bathed by you when I am not moments from unconsciousness."

[du_vallon]

"I would take it very personally if you decided to pass out on me when we're doing any of that," Porthos agrees half somber before he curls Aramis back in with him. "When we take you home, are there things we have to do to make sure you heal right?" he wonders, a touch nervous about mucking that up.

[afineseamstress]

"Surely," replies Aramis with a touch of misery, for he truly hates being a patient. He does not wish to burden Porthos and Athos with more worry and fuss than they have already endured, nor does he wish to be so low as to need it, but need it he does.

"Some medicines, I expect. They speak of my 'levels' when they come in, though I don't know what that means. Perhaps it will be like the medicines you took to prevent infection when you were released."

[du_vallon]

"Whatever it is, I'll be your devoted nursemaid," Porthos vows with a fierce flare of determination in his eyes that practically begs to be challenged. "You're not moving. If I have to purchase a set of straps and tie you down to the bed, I will. We can't lose you," he says roughly, setting the water back on the bedside table.

[afineseamstress]

"Again you taunt me with what I would normally enjoy," says Aramis with a tired smile. He turns his nose against Porthos' cheek while they are near, not so exhausted that he misses the extra stubble. "You won't lose me, Porthos," he says gently. "I fought hard to remain here - I'll never stop. I simply need to sleep for a week and I'll be right as ever."

[du_vallon]

"Those cuffs will be set aside for when you're better," he promises of the fluffy things, rubbing his hand up and down Aramis' arm as he sniffs in, a touch scared still as he stares down at Aramis' face and his whole roughened body. "You won't slip away in the night? They're not worried about that?"

[afineseamstress]

"Surely they would not allow me visitors if I was," reasons Aramis. And he knows this area of the hospital from Porthos' visit before. It is not where they put those in need of the most urgent care.

"My dear love," he says, attempting to take Porthos' mind from such awful thoughts, "When did you last tend to your beard? You look half bear."

[du_vallon]

Porthos frowns as he thinks about his beard for the first time in weeks, it feels like, passing a hand over the growth there. It's patchy and frizzy, starting to get long in a way he hasn't let it in ages. He imagines his hair must be in a similar state of disarray. He hasn't touched either since Athos become a boy and they both must be getting terribly long now. "Athos didn't seem to mind it," he protests weakly.

[afineseamstress]

"Nor do I, if that is what you prefer," says Aramis, chest too sore for laughter, but he smiles. His concern is for Porthos' state of mind, not his presentation. "It is simply not what I have come to associate with nursemaids."

[du_vallon]

"I haven't really thought about it," he admits, scratching it again and thinking that it's probably for the best if he tidies it up, given that he doesn't like feeling so wildly out of control. His hair, though, he thinks he'll allow to keep growing in the curls it's begun to shape into, getting longer by the day. "Do I need to buy a costume, too?"

[afineseamstress]

"Please do," says Aramis at once. "I long to see Athos' reaction." Unable to quite raise his hand to stroke at Porthos' beard, Aramis settles for brushing their fingers together.

"How is he?" he asks, for he has not seen him since his rescue, and that memory is all a tangle of fear and pain.

[du_vallon]

"It's just going to be those comfortable white trousers and the shirt," he warns, closing his eyes as he drifts off to a blissful place at the simple touch, breathing in deeply as he shifts closer to Aramis. "He's being very Athos about all of this. He won't let me see him break, even though I'm ready to be there for him. I feel bad, though, because I know how much he wants to be in here and most of the nurses won't let him because he's not family."

[afineseamstress]

"Nurse Howard will," says Aramis, remembering the brunette who had allowed them both when Porthos lay battered. "You must look after him in the meantime. Athos bears so much because he has spent so much time shoring up his heart. I worry what will happen when those defenses finally crumble."

[du_vallon]

"I promise, I will," he vows softly, because he knows that it's his turn to be strong and look after everyone. Luckily, Porthos has the strength to do that and wants to make sure that everyone is ready to keep going. "She hasn't been on shift yet, but one of the others say she's coming on tonight," he promises, squeezing Aramis' hip gently. "He can take over my space."

[afineseamstress]

"Do not go far," says Aramis, trying quite hard to keep the tremor from his voice. After so long alone in the dark, it fills him with a strange, uncomfortable energy to be on his own, rather like he could climb from his own skin. Even those short minutes between Porthos leaving and Athos taking his place make his heart begin to race. "Please do not let any of them leave me on my own."

[du_vallon]

Porthos strokes Aramis' hair tenderly, still wary about going too far himself. He doesn't want to lose Aramis and doesn't dare venture even more than a few footsteps away. "Hey, shh," he murmurs, when he hears the beeping increase. "Who said I was leaving? I'm just moving to the other side of the bed."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis nods, breathing in deeply through his nose lest that mad beeping bring the small, angry nurse again. "Forgive me," he murmurs, laying his head back against the pillows. He is so damnably tired - it is as if he has no control over himself at all.

In Savoy, he had been surrounded by the open forest, by so many of his brothers, and yet completely alone. This time he has been alone in the dark, and Aramis can already feel that old desire never to be without light or sound rise within him. "It may be some time before I am easy being alone."

[du_vallon]

Porthos continues to stroke his hand over Aramis' hair, knowing that he needs that continual touch to ground even him. "You think I was put off by that ever? Haven't I been your best friend for over six years now? Since when are we ever alone?" he asks, kissing Aramis' cheek tenderly. "Sleep now, chou. I'm right here."