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


Illya listened to the hushed conference between his superior and the nurse
for a moment longer before coming to a decision. He slipped from the waiting
room, heading for the hospital's ICU.

Waverly would understand -even he had to punish the Russian for
disobedience, he would understand the reasons. Waverly had been a field
agent once after all -he knew what it was to have a partner and to grow
close. Illya allowed himself a grim smile -well...perhaps not as close as
*he* was feeling to Napoleon.

There was a guard at the door, but a flash of Illya's UNCLE ID and the
apparent fact that the guard had not been informed that even UNCLE agents
were not allowed to pass, permitted the Russian entry. Illya hesitated,
assailed by the overwhelming sickly-sweet odor of sanitizers and
medications.

The ICU was surpisingly deserted save for one.

Illya approached Napoleon's bed, careful not to come too close, careful not
to touch. "Oh, 'Polya..." he whispered sadly. Napoleon -unconscious and so
very still- was almost as white as the sheets on his bed. A soft, rhythmic
hiss indicated the oxygen that was being fed to him through the tube down
his throat and tubes...there were so many tubes. Too many. Illya shuddered,
reminding himself that this was not a bad thing, just very necessary for
his...for Napoleon to heal.

"'Polya...I do not know if you can or cannot hear me, but I must speak. I
may not have another chance." That *was* the possibility -for this
disobedience, the Russian, he might -would- be punished. But that was the
least of his worries -there was the very real possibility that Section One
might be reconsidering their decision to bring a Russian into UNCLE's
fold -at least, *this* one- and that by the Time Napoleon regained
consciousness, Illya might be on the next Aeroflot back to Russia.
"I...never really thanked you. For offering your friendship...for being my
partner." Illya swallowed. "For saving my life. I haven't had chance to tell
you how much you have come to mean to me in such a short time. I will not
stop searching for the ones who did this to you -even if...when...I am sent
back home." Illya released a shuddering breath. "I think...I *know* now that
I have fallen in lo--"

"Mr. Kuryakin."

A familiar female voice broke through Illya's misery, startling him. The
stubborn nurse with whom he had argued only awhile ago, stood there with a
disapproving scowl on her face. "Mr. Kuryakin, I believe I already stated
hospital policy on visitors."

Illya drew himself up straight -he knew when he was at an impasse. "Yes. I
will go now."

"I don't think so."

Illya did not have time to react when there was the muted pop of a hand-held
dart gun, a small sharp pain...and then, nothing.

---

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