Dogs Filled With Clockwork - Short Affair 31st August

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

I'm going to be away for the next week so I won't be around. Just in case anyone wonders.

Prompt Word/Colour - Groggy/Orange

Dogs Filled With Clockwork

“I will never understand,” Napoleon announced exasperatedly. “How you can just shrug off a bullet wound, but get every last cold or flu bug that's going around.”

Illya opened one eye to squint at him from his position curled up under a mound of blankets. “It is because I was created to suffer,” he said, half seriously, his voice choked and stuffy. His head was killing him and his throat and nose felt unpleasantly scratchy.

“I'm inclined to believe you.” He closed his eyes again, listening to the footsteps crossing the floor, and something being laid down on the night stand beside the alarm-clock. “Here. Orange juice and aspirin. You sure you don't want some soup as well?”

“You do not need to fuss,” he said, burrowing his face deeper in the pillow with a grimace. The hotel linens smelled strongly of lavender, which was doing little for his headache. Perhaps if he stopped breathing altogether.... “Go. Enjoy your date with.....” He drew a blank on the name. “Your ladyfriend,” he finished quickly, hoping Napoleon didn't notice.

He could feel the look Napoleon was giving him. “Are you sure you're going to be alright?”

Fumbling, he grabbed the pillow next to him and threw it in the general direction of his partner's voice. “I'll be fine. Get out of here and let me sleep!”

“Okay, okay. I'm just going to be in the restaurant down the street. Call me if you need anything.”

“Da,” he mumbled foggily, and he was already asleep before he heard the door close.

*

It was dark when he woke and he couldn't breathe. He struggled to think through the panic - there was a massive dog lying on his chest – he could feel the pressure on his lungs as it pushed down on his ribcage, and he could hear it breathing, rough and wheezing. There was sharp agony in a line across his throat where the dog's sharp teeth were digging in, and it must be about to tear his throat out, any second now. He swung his hand wildly, trying to protect himself and there was an odd sounding crash, and flash of pain across his hand, and the dog wasn't a real animal, it wasn't right, its insides were filled with clockwork.

Horrified, frantic, he kicked and pushed, trying to throw the monstrous thing off him, and it was massive, heavy, everywhere, tangled around his limbs, and it was all he could do to roll off the bed with it, crashing to the ground and even though he tried desperately to kill it, somehow it vanished beneath his hands.

Not good. He shivered. It was too hot and there wasn't enough air in the room, and they were under attack from dogs filled with clockwork. He felt around vaguely, looking for his gun, but there was no sign of it. He caught sight of something metallic ahead of him and he grabbed the lamp from the nightstand and flung it as hard as he could, throwing himself after it, kicking and punching, trying his best to kill the dog before it could escape and hurt anyone else, but it growled and fought and bit and turned to glass beneath his attack, and that was cheating.

What was this thing THRUSH had created? How could they stop it? He needed to find Napoleon. Needed to warn him, because if this thing had been sent after him, they would be coming for his partner too.

He fought his way through the hotel room, trying to find the door, but the clockwork dog had changed the room around while he had been sleeping – if it was even the same room. He couldn't be certain. His head was clouded and it was so hard to think....he needed to find Napoleon.

Eventually he managed to reach the door, but he had to break it down in order to make his escape, and the dog was waiting for him just outside, still all sharp metal gears and slobbering teeth beneath cotton-soft fur. This was so much worse than the usual THRUSH plots. This was like something out of a nightmare.

There were people shouting at him but their voices were too loud – too painful – and he couldn't understand what they were saying. Hands grabbed out at him and he pushed them away. He didn't want to hurt them, but they didn't understand. He had to protect them. He had to find Napoleon.

Somehow, he found the stairs and staggered down them, but they'd been trapped somehow, mined, maybe, and he was falling or else the steps were rising, coming up to hit him and he gasped at the pain, still struggling for breath around the ribs the dog had broken. Eventually he managed to limp or crawl down into the lobby, and he fell out into a sea of too-bright-lights and too-loud-voices, and there were things attacking him and he couldn't tell if it was the dog, but he fought back anyway.

“Illya!”

He heard Napoleon's voice before he saw him, and then Napoleon's hands were on his arms, drawing him up. “We have to get out of here,” he explained quickly. “THRUSH have sent a new weapon against us. Monsters. Dogs, hollowed out, their insides filled with clockwork.”

Napoleon gazed at him uncomprehendingly, and Illya bared his teeth irritably. How difficult was this to understand? “Okay, let's try that again in English.”

English? He had been speaking English.....hadn't he? He frowned in concentration. “I am attack. Dogs full with clockwork.”

“I....see,” Napoleon said carefully. Time blurred, and he could feel Napoleon's hand against his forehead. “Damn, you're burning up. We need to get you to the hospital, tovarisch.”

Someone was suddenly behind him, shouting angrily. He tried to turn – to fight – but Napoleon had a hold of him.

“Our organisation will be ecstatic to pay for any damages,” Napoleon said tightly, over his head. “But right now I have to get my friend to the hospital. Believe me, you do not want to get in my way.”

“Nyet.” He shook his head frantically. “We need kill dogs. I did not see where went.”

“Trust me?” Napoleon invited. “I'll take care of everything.”

He hesitated. The world was confusing, spinning out of control, and his head was pounding. Napoleon was here, promising to take care of everything. What else could he ask for. “Da,” he nodded at last, and he pitched forwards into the waiting darkness, only vaguely aware of Napoleon's arms catching him.

*

He woke up with an aching head and a dull pain in his chest and throat, but that wasn't what had him worried. He might be feeling groggy, but he still knew immediately that this wasn't where he'd fallen asleep. The hotel had smelled of lavender but here there was the overwhelming smell of antiseptic. He lay still and kept his breathing even, feigning sleep until he knew what was going on.

“Good morning!” Napoleon's voice was loud and bright.

He rolled over gingerly and looked at his partner. “I am in hospital?”

“Yep,” Napoleon nodded. “After I left you, you decided to develop a fever of 105, start hallucinating clockwork dogs and go on a rampage. Out of interest, was that what you meant by 'I'll be fine'?”

He remembered...vaguely. Teeth and gears and pain. “That was....” He struggled for a second and gave up. “Did I hurt anyone?”

“No,” Napoleon smiled broadly. “Fortunately your ire seemed reserved for inanimate objects. Though the hotel room is going to need refurbished. The manager has sent Mr Waverly a bill for two thousand dollars.”

That seemed ridiculously steep. “I suppose he is going to dock it from my wages,” he said resignedly.

The smile vanished. “Ah. No. Apparently it's all my fault for leaving you alone. He says I get to explain it all and hand over the cash.”

That was something at least. It was good that something was going right.

“Hey, don't get any idea, pals,” Napoleon warned. “Just remember, that means Mr Waverly doesn't trust you left alone in a hotel room. And I think he has a point. Clockwork dogs? What goes on in your head?”

He shrugged. “I am not responsible for my hallucinations.”

“No, seemingly I am,” Napoleon grumbled. “Since when am I my partner's keeper?”

“Goes both ways,” he said, smiling effortfully as he felt his eyes closing.

“Go to sleep,” Napoleon told him from somewhere far away.

He did.