Illya paced the waiting room, heart heavy with the knowledge he'd
gained an hour or so earlier.

He had been the target. The bullet to hit Napoleon had been meant for him.

It could have been KGB. It could have been anyone. He couldn't really
narrow the list of people and organizations with a grudge down far
enough to make that call.

"Mr. Kuryakin?" A voice broke through his painful reverie. "Mr. Solo
is out of surgery."

"Then I can see him, yes?"

The nurse narrowed her eyes. "He's out of surgery, not ready for open
house. I was told you were to be informed, but the rule is family only."

"I am his partner!" Illya argued.

"Family only."

"You do not understand, I need to--"

"You do not understand, the rules are--"

Mr. Waverly cleared his throat, and the room fell silent.

"And how is Mr. Solo?"

"Stable." She answered.

"Sir, I-- I know I am in no position to ask favours of you right now,
but-- would it be possible, with your influence, for me to see
Napole-- to see Mr. Solo now? I-- I must see him, Sir, it is very
important I be able to--"

"In good time, Mr. Kuryakin, in good time. Mr. Solo is holding steady,
he'll still be there when they allow visitors. Chances are he'll be
much more capable of carrying on a conversation later as well. Give
him some time to rest. And get some rest yourself."

Illya nodded and sat down in one of the chairs, his back ramrod-straight.

Waverly sighed. "Go home, Mr. Kuryakin, and get some *real* rest."

Illya shook his head. "With all due respect, Sir, I must refuse. Until
I see Napo-- Until I see my partner for myself, I will not leave this
hospital."

The old man raised an eyebrow. "And if it was an official order, Mr.
Kuryakin?"

"Then I would make an official appeal. I do not require rest, Sir. Not
until I am satisfied as to my partner's condition."

Mr. Waverly nodded and pulled the nurse into the hallway where he
spoke to her in low tones.

---

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