"Better underline that part of the vows," Porthos grumbles, a scowl on his face for the notion that Aramis has left him. He knows that's not the case, knows there are duties and Athos can take care of him just as well as Aramis, but with his leg in so much pain and his mind hazy, it's hard for him to think about that. He rubs at his eyes, like a child, and reaches for the triangle in Athos' hands. "Thanks," he mumbles, eating the thing with both hands, like a squirrel might feed itself on a morsel of food.

"It's not my fault it hurts," he complains. "I've never broken my foot before, I didn't know it could hurt this badly."