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He didn’t know when the problem got to be too much to handle. He didn’t even know he had a problem until someone said something. If that someone hadn’t been one of his best friends he probably would have slugged them. As it stood now he had his blade pressed against the other's throat while he drank himself to oblivion.
“Athos, you have to stop. Drinking like this will kill you, y’know,” Aramis said in the same tone that parents reserved for their children that had already misbehaved several times.
Shrugging Athos went back to the bottle before he realized it was empty. Tossing it down he picked up the next one in line, uncorked it, and drank it half down in one go.
Aramis watched on in dismay as Athos got drunker and drunker. Getting drunk with friends was fun, getting drunk to drown memories took longer and hurt more in the mornings. Aramis should know, he had tried it once just after Savoy.
Finishing the bottle Athos tossed it in the corner to join the growing collection of green glass and reached for the last one on the table. A bigger hand than his stopped him. It turned his hand palm up and gripped it tight in theirs.
“You don’t need this, Athos,” Porthos whispered. He didn’t know if Athos would listen but he felt the need to try. “Why don’t you just come back with us? Come home.”
At the statement “Come home” Athos snorted and tried to free his hand from Porthos’s but the gypsy held tighter.
“Let go,” he growled, eyes lighting up in a way that Porthos had seen many times before.
“No, you’re done for tonight, let’s go home.”
“I have no home, not now. It’s cinders.”
The sword at Aramis’s throat hadn’t wavered the while the two had been talking but now Aramis took the chance to move. Moving the Rapier downward more, Aramis slid into Athos’s personal space and gripped the man’s other hand.
Leaning in close he whispered in his friend's ear, low enough only he could hear, “Home isn’t where you live or where memories lie, it’s where your heart chose to stay, where your friends are. It’s with us and you know it. You talked me out of a stupid choice years ago, let me and Porthos do the same to you tonight, you don’t need anymore.”
Athos looked stunned, not only at the words he heard but the fact that Aramis dared encroach on his space. Stepping back had him nearly falling into Porthos but Aramis’s steady hand on his arm held him upright.
Dark eyes bored into his own blue ones and Athos had to look away. He didn’t want to need their help but in all honesty he was tired of this. Tired of getting drunk, tired of being alone, and tired of the pain that the memories brought.
Staggering back he felt Porthos wrap his arms around his middle until Aramis got under his arm and held him up. Porthos grabbed the other one and they staggered out.
Once outside the night air seemed to do Athos a little good, he pushed away from his friends and stood against the wall. Facing the two he wondered why they hadn’t left yet. Everyone else left sooner or later. Shaking his head to clear the drunken fog from it sent him headlong into Porthos again.
The big man caught the other and stood him upright again. “Athos, just come home with us, come on.”
Shaking his head, Athos teetered on his feet, caught himself on the wall, and stared at the ground for a few minutes before looking back up.
Both saw the broken look in their brother’s eyes. Saw it the minute he gave up trying to stand, they caught him an instant before he hit the ground.
Muttering that Athos needed to stop drinking and actually eat Porthos swept his brother into a bridal carry and set off following Aramis to where Athos was lodging.
Opening the door Aramis turned the sheets down and winced as Athos hit the bed hard. Moving forward he pulled off the other boot as Pothos worked on their friend’s top.
Looking up at the giant figure Aramis shook his head. He hoped that the other understood it enough.
“I know but if he ain’t willing to help hisself then we gotta’ do something.”
Nodding, the sharpshooter tossed the sheets over his friend and took a seat by the fireplace. Watching Porthos from his peripherals he saw him gather something before taking a seat next to him.
“Cards?”
The Gypsy grinned and settled into the other chair.
They would be there to catch their brother when he fell. Just like he always caught them.