"He is..." For a Little Drabble Do Ya!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

He opened his eyes with a quiet moan, surveying his surroundings. A hospital room, clean white and sterile.

Not feeling his feet, he looked beneath the sheets in a momentary panic. Everything was there, but numb; his lower legs were in casts.

Wiggling his toes, he found them responsive.  Relieved; he searched for any sign of his partner.  Was he alive?

A nurse popped in and seeing he was awake; she smiled.

“Illya?”

“Is battered and bruised but fine. We made him go lie down; he was up all night with you. You agents are amazing.”

“He is,” Napoleon nodded.