The Way Back - Song Story Challenge 4/18

[avrovulcan.livejournal.com]

Too many times he’d sat here like this, willing his partner to re-join the living. This time things were really bad, Illya had been seriously hurt in the explosion, and added to the injuries he’d already sustained while in the hands of Thrush, the prognosis wasn’t good.


With a sigh, Napoleon shifted in the uncomfortable plastic chair, wondering why the powers that be in Medical didn’t invest in something more comfortable considering how often partners sat for hours, sometimes days, in these things. He made a mental note to find a cushion to relieve his numb backside the next time he had to leave for any reason.

Solo watched his friend, trying to see if there was any sign of him waking. He’d been in a coma since he was brought to Medical five days ago.

“Come on Illya, I need a sign to let me know you’re here, anything will do and believe it or not, I’m missing your Russian wit.”

Still the blond lay unresponsive amongst the wires and tubes keeping him alive.

“Any change Napoleon?” Rebecca Andrews asked as she entered the room and sat in the chair next to him.

“No Becca, still the same, I was hoping by now he’d be back with us, he’s never been out this long before,” the CEA shook his head sadly, “if only I got there sooner, we might have been further away before that building went up.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Napoleon,” she put a hand on his shoulder, “ you got there as quickly as you could. Who was to know THRUSH would booby trap their own satrapy?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was supposed to have been a simple retrieval. Illya was working with another agent, Dale Fields; they were to find and bring back plans on THRUSH’s latest weapon: a long range laser gun.

The base was a small one with minimal personnel, a breeze for someone of Kuryakin’s skill and ability to infiltrate, collect the documentation and escape. However, no one knew Dale was a double agent and the lab was actually heavily guarded.

The Russian entered the office containing the plans and walked straight into their trap; heat sensors detected his presence, setting off alarms and activating the barred security doors that came crashing down.

Fields headed the security team that retrieved their prisoner, taking him to the cells where he took great delight in torturing Illya. It was two days before Napoleon found and rescued his partner, bruised, broken and bleeding from the days of captivity. Just as they were making a run for it, the whole complex exploded.

Solo was hurrying as fast as he could while trying to help keep Kuryakin on his feet, the Russian stumbled and went down heavily, the debris raining down around them and the ground beneath their bodies buckling, Napoleon covered his partner the best he could, trying to protect him from the worst, but somehow some shrapnel pierced Illya’s chest.

When things had calmed enough that the American thought it safe to move, he found his partner unconscious and bleeding from a new wound. Carefully picking him up he carried him to the helicopter, luckily it was far enough away not to have been damaged, strapping his friend in securely before he jumped into the aircraft himself. Within minutes they were airborne and on their way to New York HQ.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was running through a forest, he’d been trying for days to find a way out of this maze of trees but couldn’t, dejectedly, he sat down on the leafy ground, his back against a the rough bark of a Redwood, unable to find the energy to continue, all he wanted was to sleep.

Just as Illya was about to give in to his lethargy, something called to him, encouraging the Russian not to give up hope. That was when something white flew just ahead of him, gracefully skirting around the trees. Somehow in his heart he knew this creature, and that it wanted him to follow it, he saw the love and kindness in its eyes as it turned its head to look at him, it reminded Kuryakin of his beloved Rebecca - his angel.

The bird called out, singing a beautiful song, and just ahead of it a magnificent stag erupted through the forest, kind brown eyes stared at him, imploring him to follow. Both animals took off together, the faster white bird looping back round the stag and Illya, ensuring the Russian was following.

As Rebecca sat next to the hospital bed, she sang ‘Angel Baby’ in a sweet clear voice,

It's just like heaven being here with you
You're like an angel too good to be true
But after all, I love you, I do
Angel Baby, my Angel Baby

When you are near me my heart skips a beat
I can hardly stand on my own two feet
Because I love you, I love you, I do
Angel Baby, my Angel Baby

Oooh, I love you, ooooh I do
No one could love you like I do

Please never leave me blue and alone
If you ever go I'm sure you'll come back home
Because I love you, I love you, I do
Angel Baby, my Angel Baby

Oooh, I love you, ooooh I do
No one could love you like I do

Suddenly Napoleon saw Illya’s fingers twitch, he took the hand to help build up some kind of hope inside him.

“Rebecca, something’s happening; his fingers just moved, keep singing,” he encouraged.

Illya could see the treeline ahead, feeling enormous relief knowing the end was in sight and he would be free of the forest. Ahead the stag had broken free and stood waiting for the Russian. The white bird perched on its withers was still singing, encouraging Kuryakin to continue forwards.

Finally the forest was behind him, he stood exhausted, looking into the kind brown eyes.

“Thank you my friends, you have shown me the way, you gave me hope when I had none.”

Slowly the face around the brown eyes morphed into one he knew extremely well, that of his partner Napoleon Solo. The bird had disappeared but in its place was Rebecca, concern in her eyes as she stood next to his friend. Through blurred eyes, he could have sworn he saw a pair of feathered wings behind her, but decided it was an illusion caused by the sunlight streaming through the window.


“Welcome back tovarisch,” Solo smiled, as the longed for pair of blue eyes once more opened.

“You’ve had us worried, moya lyubov,” Rebecca said as she gave Illya a tender kiss.

“I am glad to be here,” Kuryakin smiled, “I have had the strangest dream… at least I think it was a dream.”

Now their friend had woken from his coma, they knew everything would be alright… given time.

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

This was beautiful! Nice interpretation on the prompt!

[avrovulcan.livejournal.com]

Thank you, glad you liked it.