"Doubt" (Song Story Challenge 11/17)
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section7mfuSong Story 11/17
Prompt: "Tell Me Why" -- Genesis
Title: Doubt
Author: Rose of Pollux
Word Count: ~1100
Notes: Takes place following the aftermath of "Seven Wonders of the World Affair"
Napoleon had been quiet ever since he and Illya had returned home from the mission. He was now sitting in his armchair with his chin propped up on his hand. Illya watched him in concern; it wasn’t like Napoleon to be so quiet—that was usually Illya’s way of handling his feelings.
“Napoleon?” he asked, quietly.
His partner glanced in his direction, briefly, and Illya saw something in his eyes that he wasn’t accustomed to seeing—doubt.
“…I was going to ask if you were alright,” Illya said, kneeling beside the armchair to get a better look into his eyes. “But I can see that you are not. If this is about not realizing sooner that Kingsley had gone rogue--”
“No, that’s not it,” Napoleon said. “Illya… We know our fellow agents pretty well, don’t you think?”
“…That depends,” Illya replied, with a shrug. “I am more familiar with the crew in Section VIII than I would be with some of the other sections. And I feel as though I know Mandy from Translations and George in Section IV even better than some of the crew from Section VIII. Even in our own Section II, I feel as though I know April and Mark better than most—and you most of all. Kingsley may have been one of our own, but I cannot say that I knew him all that well.”
“But you’re not CEA,” Napoleon said, softly. “While it’s true that I know Mark and April better than the other field agents—and yes, you most of all—I generally know quite a bit about the other field agents. I know how they are—it’s my business to know, and I guess, to an extent, they know me, too. And even if a part of me thinks I should have suspected Kingsley sooner, it’s not so much what I knew—or thought I knew—about him more than what he thought he knew about me.”
Illya blinked.
“I do not follow…”
“He tried to get me to join him, Illya,” Napoleon admitted. “The Eight Wonder would have been me. He was so sure that I’d say yes—he even said that he and I were more similar than I knew, and that his goal for peace was the same as mine. I turned him down, of course; I said that we were nothing alike, but… I’m beginning to wonder… How much of what he said is true? Kingsley kept getting more and more disillusioned at what we were doing here at U.N.C.L.E.; he was so desperate for world peace that he was willing to go to such extremes because he believed it was for the greater good. …How long is it going to be before I end up the same way?”
Illya stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression.
“You will not,” he said.
Napoleon arched an eyebrow.
“I thought you’re supposed to be the cynic?”
“And I usually am,” Illya admitted. “There is very little I believe in, but, since I met you, there has always been one thing I have always believed in—and that is you. You have always had a fire and light in your eyes, Napoleon; more than once, you have convinced me to keep going, to make be believe that our struggles were bearing fruit--that innocents all over the world were allowed to live in both safety and freedom because of what we do. And I look at you now, and I can see that fire’s light still in your eyes. You still want innocents to be safe and free—not safe at the expense of their freedom, like Kingsley would have done. And the fact that you are worried and concerned that you would end up like Kingsley is proof that your heart is still in the right place.”
“But for how long?”
“Napoleon,” Illya sighed. “Assume, for a moment, that this is your fate—to lose sight of your current vision. What would you do to prevent yourself from turning into what Kingsley became?”
Napoleon bit his lip, thinking about it.
“I… I’d probably leave U.N.C.L.E.,” he said, at last. “I’d get into some other profession where I wouldn’t have to worry about things like this—wouldn’t have to worry about going rogue.”
“And is that truly what you want to do?” Illya asked. “Are you that disillusioned, Napoleon, that you would leave your life’s work? Everything you have fought for thus far? During our first year as partners, when I had felt disillusioned at our failure to capture the Baron of THRUSH, I had wanted to leave, but you told me to stay because you knew I would not give up on those things and leave countless innocents to suffer. And now, you fail to take your own advice?”
Napoleon glanced at Illya now.
“You would even stop believing in your partner?” Illya continued. “You believed in me then, during that affair against the Baron; are you so disillusioned now that you have stopped believing in me—believing that I would stop you from going rogue?”
“Never.” Napoleon stood up now, and so did Illya, so that they were both standing, eye to eye. “After everything we’ve been through, how could you even think that!?”
“After everything we’ve been through, how could you even think of leaving!?” Illya countered. Though he didn’t say it out loud, there was an implied “leaving me” at the end of his words, and a genuine hurt in his eyes that he was trying to hide.
Napoleon’s eyes widened for a moment, but then his expression softened, and he drew Illya into a hug, which the Russian returned.
“I’m sorry, Tovarisch,” Napoleon said. “You’re right. I could never leave you high and dry—not when I know that you’d never do the same to me.” Unbidden came the memories of a few months ago, when Strothers had forced him to confess under duress that he had been a double agent. Illya had never once believed it, not even when Napoleon had broken, and had risked everything to prove his innocence.
“You are a good man, Napoleon,” Illya said, softly. “After you think about it more, you will find that you could not abandon the innocents of the world, either. But I do not blame you for having doubts. I know I have had my share of them. But I know that you are not as accustomed to such thoughts.” He paused, not sure what else to say; he shrugged, still hugging Napoleon. “Forgive me, Napoleon; it seems I am not accustomed to giving these… ‘pep talks,’ as you call them.”
“You’re doing just fine,” Napoleon said, managing a smile in spite of the lump in his throat. He tightened his embrace. “You know something, Illya? You’re a pretty good man, yourself.”
Illya managed a smile.
“So, it’s back to work on Monday for us?”
“Yeah,” Napoleon said. “Bright and early.”
The world needed the both of them at their very best—and together, they would give it exactly that.
Prompt: "Tell Me Why" -- Genesis
Title: Doubt
Author: Rose of Pollux
Word Count: ~1100
Notes: Takes place following the aftermath of "Seven Wonders of the World Affair"
Napoleon had been quiet ever since he and Illya had returned home from the mission. He was now sitting in his armchair with his chin propped up on his hand. Illya watched him in concern; it wasn’t like Napoleon to be so quiet—that was usually Illya’s way of handling his feelings.
“Napoleon?” he asked, quietly.
His partner glanced in his direction, briefly, and Illya saw something in his eyes that he wasn’t accustomed to seeing—doubt.
“…I was going to ask if you were alright,” Illya said, kneeling beside the armchair to get a better look into his eyes. “But I can see that you are not. If this is about not realizing sooner that Kingsley had gone rogue--”
“No, that’s not it,” Napoleon said. “Illya… We know our fellow agents pretty well, don’t you think?”
“…That depends,” Illya replied, with a shrug. “I am more familiar with the crew in Section VIII than I would be with some of the other sections. And I feel as though I know Mandy from Translations and George in Section IV even better than some of the crew from Section VIII. Even in our own Section II, I feel as though I know April and Mark better than most—and you most of all. Kingsley may have been one of our own, but I cannot say that I knew him all that well.”
“But you’re not CEA,” Napoleon said, softly. “While it’s true that I know Mark and April better than the other field agents—and yes, you most of all—I generally know quite a bit about the other field agents. I know how they are—it’s my business to know, and I guess, to an extent, they know me, too. And even if a part of me thinks I should have suspected Kingsley sooner, it’s not so much what I knew—or thought I knew—about him more than what he thought he knew about me.”
Illya blinked.
“I do not follow…”
“He tried to get me to join him, Illya,” Napoleon admitted. “The Eight Wonder would have been me. He was so sure that I’d say yes—he even said that he and I were more similar than I knew, and that his goal for peace was the same as mine. I turned him down, of course; I said that we were nothing alike, but… I’m beginning to wonder… How much of what he said is true? Kingsley kept getting more and more disillusioned at what we were doing here at U.N.C.L.E.; he was so desperate for world peace that he was willing to go to such extremes because he believed it was for the greater good. …How long is it going to be before I end up the same way?”
Illya stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression.
“You will not,” he said.
Napoleon arched an eyebrow.
“I thought you’re supposed to be the cynic?”
“And I usually am,” Illya admitted. “There is very little I believe in, but, since I met you, there has always been one thing I have always believed in—and that is you. You have always had a fire and light in your eyes, Napoleon; more than once, you have convinced me to keep going, to make be believe that our struggles were bearing fruit--that innocents all over the world were allowed to live in both safety and freedom because of what we do. And I look at you now, and I can see that fire’s light still in your eyes. You still want innocents to be safe and free—not safe at the expense of their freedom, like Kingsley would have done. And the fact that you are worried and concerned that you would end up like Kingsley is proof that your heart is still in the right place.”
“But for how long?”
“Napoleon,” Illya sighed. “Assume, for a moment, that this is your fate—to lose sight of your current vision. What would you do to prevent yourself from turning into what Kingsley became?”
Napoleon bit his lip, thinking about it.
“I… I’d probably leave U.N.C.L.E.,” he said, at last. “I’d get into some other profession where I wouldn’t have to worry about things like this—wouldn’t have to worry about going rogue.”
“And is that truly what you want to do?” Illya asked. “Are you that disillusioned, Napoleon, that you would leave your life’s work? Everything you have fought for thus far? During our first year as partners, when I had felt disillusioned at our failure to capture the Baron of THRUSH, I had wanted to leave, but you told me to stay because you knew I would not give up on those things and leave countless innocents to suffer. And now, you fail to take your own advice?”
Napoleon glanced at Illya now.
“You would even stop believing in your partner?” Illya continued. “You believed in me then, during that affair against the Baron; are you so disillusioned now that you have stopped believing in me—believing that I would stop you from going rogue?”
“Never.” Napoleon stood up now, and so did Illya, so that they were both standing, eye to eye. “After everything we’ve been through, how could you even think that!?”
“After everything we’ve been through, how could you even think of leaving!?” Illya countered. Though he didn’t say it out loud, there was an implied “leaving me” at the end of his words, and a genuine hurt in his eyes that he was trying to hide.
Napoleon’s eyes widened for a moment, but then his expression softened, and he drew Illya into a hug, which the Russian returned.
“I’m sorry, Tovarisch,” Napoleon said. “You’re right. I could never leave you high and dry—not when I know that you’d never do the same to me.” Unbidden came the memories of a few months ago, when Strothers had forced him to confess under duress that he had been a double agent. Illya had never once believed it, not even when Napoleon had broken, and had risked everything to prove his innocence.
“You are a good man, Napoleon,” Illya said, softly. “After you think about it more, you will find that you could not abandon the innocents of the world, either. But I do not blame you for having doubts. I know I have had my share of them. But I know that you are not as accustomed to such thoughts.” He paused, not sure what else to say; he shrugged, still hugging Napoleon. “Forgive me, Napoleon; it seems I am not accustomed to giving these… ‘pep talks,’ as you call them.”
“You’re doing just fine,” Napoleon said, managing a smile in spite of the lump in his throat. He tightened his embrace. “You know something, Illya? You’re a pretty good man, yourself.”
Illya managed a smile.
“So, it’s back to work on Monday for us?”
“Yeah,” Napoleon said. “Bright and early.”
The world needed the both of them at their very best—and together, they would give it exactly that.
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