The last chapter! Ooooh ... Ahhhhh! I hope you guys have enjoyed this small little story. Thank you to all who favorited, followed, reviewed. You mean the world to me!

I'll see you guys in the next story!


An exhausted Aramis walked by the Queen and Dauphin's side, his senses on high alert. He, and his brothers, knew that Grimaud was here. They were sure of it. And they all knew that Aramis would get the kill.

"Grimaud is mine," Aramis Gad said at their briefing. "I need to kill him."

"Aramis," d'Artagnan began. "You're still injured. I don't think it would be wise to-"

"He. Is. Mine." Aramis' voice was harsh and cold, different from his normal, happy, loving tone.

The others had no other choice than to agree.

Now they were all, either, watching out for any threats to the Queen, or staring at Aramis. It was a miracle that the man was still on his feet.

Even Anne noticed! She knew that something was off. But because they were in a public area, she couldn't say anything to him.

But then the next thing she knew, Porthos was by beside her, and he was telling her that Grimaud was there, and that they needed to get out of here.

A couple of minutes later, she saw Aramis and Athos run into the building. Worry seeped into her heart. She knew that her lover was not ready to fight. The only thing he was fighting was his own demons. How he would be able to fight Grimaud, she did not know.


After making sure that all the gunpowder Grimaud had placed wasn't going to explode, Aramis and Athos began searching for this monster of a human being.

It seemed as if Aramis changed within a few minutes, because, now, his body was battle ready, and his senses were on even higher alert.

"Aramis, you should think this through," Athos tried to tell him. "You're hurt, more than you think. You might not make it out of this. And if you die, what will happen to us? What will happen to the Queen? And what will happen to your son? He truly will never have a father."

The marksman whipped around and glared at Athos. "Don't you dare bring up my son," he snarled. "Whatever happens, happens. All that matters is that Grimaud will be dead."

They continued to search for their target, trying to find their way through this maze.

Athos thought that they would never find him, that Grimaud was long gone, but he was proven wrong when Grimaud found them.

The next thing he knew, he was flying into a wall. Quickly standing back up, he saw Aramis lunging at the man, fury in his eyes.

He was successful in slicing Grimaud's arm with his rapier, and when he pulled back, he growled. "That is for what you did to Constance," he said.

Grimaud just smiled. He suddenly pushed Aramis to the side and took off.

Athos watched as Aramis ran after him, and he put his head down. He silently prayed for Aramis. He prayed that his best friend would come out of this alive.

In the meantime, Aramis was frantically pursuing Grimaud. He finally reached his goal when the other man jumped at him. Thankfully, the marksman was able to block the attack - at least a little. His enemy's sword managed to cut through his cheek.

"That is for my arm." Grimaud smirked, picking his slightly injured arm up.

Aramis pushed the other man away, taking out his dagger as well. He instantly forgot about all his injuries as the two of them fought. The only thing on his mind was to kill Grimaud.

He barely even noticed that the two of them were now fighting in water until Grimaud had his hands on his neck and was pushing him under. As the soldier struggled to come for air, he pictured all his friends in his mind. He finally realized that he might never see them again … and that is what made him want to fight even harder.

He pushed back up, and with his sword, he pushed it through Grimaud's stomach. At the same time, the other man had pushed his own weapon through Aramis' stomach as well.

The two of them stared at each other with wide eyes for a mere second, and Aramis quickly took that as his chance to finally strike.

He grabbed at Grimaud and pushed him under the water. He watched as blood flowed around them, he stared at the air bubbles forming from under the man.

And just as his arms began to grow weak, Grimaud finally stopped struggling.

Aramis quickly let go, gasping. He stood up and slowly walked over to the ledge of this underground pond. He slid against the wall, wrapped his hand around his waist, and began to cry.

After days of not feeling anything but this need for vengeance, his body was finally allowing him to feel the heartbreak he had suffered.

"This is for everything you have done to me, my friends, and those poor, innocent men who didn't deserve to die," he whispered, the tears streaming down his face. "I hope you rot in Hell, you bastard."

When Athos found him a couple minutes later, relief swept over him. He noticed Grimaud's body floating in the water, unmoving.

And then he saw Aramis. The poor man was sobbing.

The swordsman quickly kneeled down beside his friend and took Aramis' hand. "You did it, mon ami," he said softly. "It's done."

Aramis shook his head. "I have never had such a lust for killing before, Athos," he said. "Because of what I have just become, I do not know if it is Grimaud who is the monster, or myself." He looked up, tears in his eyes. "I am sorry."

Without hesitating, Athos gathered Aramis into his arms and began to rock him gently. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he said, taking Aramis' hand. "I would have been exactly like you. I promise you, you did the right thing."


Once Aramis managed to calm down, the two of them made their way out of the tombs.

The marksman gasped when the sun's light hit his eyes, and he raised his hand up to block it.

He was immediately embraced by his other two brothers, and, out of sheer exhaustion, he practically fell against the two of them.

Porthos quickly caught him and held him close, noticing the new source of blood on his stomach. "He needs a medic," he said.

"You four get back to the infirmary," Queen Anne said. "Make sure that he is well taken care of, and please keep me informed. I will handle it here."

Aramis bowed his head slightly. "Thank you … Anne," he said. "Gracias, mi amor." With that, his body gave out on him and he blacked out.

Anne smiled weakly, sadness in her eyes.

In about an hour, Aramis was back at their makeshift - garrison, and the physician had arrived.

After checking up on him and giving his friends all the medicine and instructions they needed, he left. Now it was up to the three Musketeers to help him.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just staring at their unconscious friend.

"You think he's gonna be alright?" Porthos finally asked.

Athos nodded. "He's Aramis, Porthos," he said. "He's survived through so much more."

"But all those other times, he's been alone," said d'Artagnan. "Now, he had us."

Porthos smirked. "You're right," he said. "You're definitely right.