[identity profile] otherhawk.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] section7mfu
I'm a day late to the party - sorry.



The world slowly reformed itself from an indistinct white blur to white sheets in a white room with his leg stretched above him in a white cast.

Ah, yes. The hospital in Amsterdam. He remembered stumbling in here after the shooting, and the doctor telling him they were going to have to operate. His mouth was dry and his head ached. Really, there was very little difference between the after effects of general anaesthetic and THRUSH drugs. How nice it would be to avoid both for a spell.

He was not even supposed to be here right now. His assignment had concluded and he had been ready to return to New York when he had spotted Dr Locke unexpectedly in Europe. He had followed him, of course, and found a satrap, of course, and from that point things could almost be considered to have gone well, if they hadn't ended with him here, laid up in hospital, instead of enjoying a nice time back home.

He grimaced; this was just his luck. "Happy Birthday, Illya Kuryakin," he muttered miserably to himself.


"And many more to come," Napoleon rejoined cheerfully.

Twisting his head round quickly he saw his partner sitting on a chair by his bedside, a cup of coffee in his hand. He was absolutely certain that Napoleon had not been on this continent when he fell asleep. "What are you doing here?" he asked, admittedly somewhat stupefied.

Napoleon smiled. "An unexpected layover," he said airily. "I had some time so I thought I would come and see you. Your birthday was yesterday, by the way. You've already missed the party."

"Good," he said with feeling.

"You don't really mean that," Napoleon said, pained.

Perhaps not. Though rignt now all he wanted was to curl up and feel sorry for himself. "When can I get out of here?" he asked, instead of replying.

"A few days," Napoleon told him patiently. "You had the doctors worried, pal."

"How distressing for them," he murmured drowsily, his eyes already closing. He forced them open with an effort and looked at Napoleon. "Will you still be here when I wake up?"

"Yes," he promised comfortingly.

Good. It was always better not to be alone. He relaxed and let himself fall asleep.

Date: 2016-09-20 08:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jkkitty.livejournal.com
What a birthday present! At least Napoleon is there for him.

Date: 2016-09-20 08:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kat bybee (from livejournal.com)
Rotten gift, but probably typical! Missed you yesterday!

Date: 2016-09-20 08:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] glennagirl.livejournal.com
"How distressing for them," he murmured drowsily, his eyes already closing. He forced them open with an effort and looked at Napoleon. "Will you still be here when I wake up?"
Oh, that bit is priceless!
Of course Napoleon will be there, and so will we.

Date: 2016-09-20 08:33 pm (UTC)

Date: 2016-09-20 10:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com
Well done. A story that hints of so many things, and an ending that raised up the spirits.

And better late than never BTW.

Date: 2016-09-20 10:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lindafishes8.livejournal.com
"Good. It was always better not to be alone." Heartfelt and a little sad, the way I like them. Thanks!

Date: 2016-09-21 12:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] yumyumpm.livejournal.com
A typical day in the life of a spy. At least he has Napoleon with him.

Date: 2016-09-22 07:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
Not the best of birthday presents. At least he's not alone :-)

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