"It takes a village"~ for the PicFic photo prompt challenge 8/13 Part 2

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

                           


Snow hissed as it drifted into the flames of the fire, as it quickly blanketed the area covering their tracks, but still their guards could not be let down.

The UNCLE agents and a few of the men were the only people with guns.  They would be the ones to stand guard tonight in the woods surrounding the camp, and would take turns near the fire as long as it could be kept burning. Their meager arms were no match against the Securitate, but it was wolves they'd be guarding against.

“I’ll go first Illya,” Napoleon said, handing his blanket to his friend.

“Keep it, you will need it,“ he tried pushing it back.

“No, it’s cumbersome. I’ll be all right if I keep moving. Get some rest, as it’ll be your turn soon enough.” Solo didn’t like the look of his partner, and had a feeling Illya was sick.  Though it was hard to tell since they were all shivering, and their noses red from the cold; it wasn’t until Kuryakin had developed a slight cough that his suspicions were confirmed.

Napoleon decided to let him sleep and would take Illya’s watch for him. It was dawn when the Russian woke, cursing under his breath when he realized the American had not come to get him; that was when he broke out into a bad coughing fit.  He felt like he was burning up, and no doubt had a fever, now shivering from that instead of the cold.

Solo crawled into their small shelter. “Hey how you feeling?”

A glazed blue-eyed stare gave him his answer as Napoleon leaned forward, putting a hand to Illya’s forehead.

“Crap, you’re burning up. I’ll see what I can do about some food for you and more blankets.

He wanted to answer, but Illya simply closed his eyes, feeling too miserable to argue.

Daciana, wife to Gavril, returned with the American to help him, carrying with her a bowl of potato soup and an extra blanket..apparently one of the older men had died during the night.

The shelter was filled with the strong scent of pine as she and Solo crawled inside and she immediately tried to feed the soup to the Russian, but Illya refused.

“No, it would be a waste of valuable food, as I am sure I would not be able to keep it down. Just cool water please?”

There was no shortage of that, as the snow was getting deeper, if it continued, they would not be able to keep a fire burning much longer.

Daciana left, returning a few minutes later with both cold and hot water and in the steaming bowl she crushed a handful of dried herbs. She let them steep as a tea and after draining the liquid into another bowl , the woman ordered Illya to drink it.

“No, please just cool water?” He whispered.

“First swallow this as it will help bring down your fever.”

Illya complied, after which she checked his wound, cleaned and dressed it.  “Close your eyes,” she whispered, wrapping him in the extra blanket. She gave him a cup of cool water that he downed in a few gulps.

Daciana turned to Napoleon,”Keep giving him much water, we cannot let him become de...de...dehydrated.  Here, since he will not eat this, you should. You need to keep up strength to care for him. This will probably be last meal we can cook.”

Solo knew better than to argue with the woman, and gratefully accepted the soup, and after she left, he got his partner to take a few mouthful, though as Illya had predicted, he was unable to keep it down.

“Gee thanks partner, now we have a stinky shelter,” Napoleon tried ribbing him.

“Sorry, I warned you I could not keep it down. Now have you gotten a whiff of yourself lately, “ Kuryakin jabbed back, mustering a crooked smile.

“Thanks for reminding me.  Waverly is going to scream bloody murder and my expense report for this month.”

“He should be happy you are alive to submit it to him,” Illya joked but began to cough again.

“So true,” Napoleon snickered.

Daciana returned again, handing Solo a thick homemade candle and some matches. “This will not provide much warmth but it may be a comfort against the night. I fear it is going to be long one with this snow...very bad storm.”

“Thank you for all your help,” he smiled at her as she left for the last time, returning to her own shelter.

Napoleon turned his attention back his partner.

“Now close your eyes and get some rest chum.” He could see Illya shivering beneath the blankets, and decided to climb beneath them, letting his body heat offer added warmth to his friend. Between that and three blankets, he hoped they’d be all right through the night.

The winds began to pick up during as the storm intensified, whistling among the branches of the trees, and in the darkness, at a distance a lone wolf howled.  Napoleon pulled his Special from its holster, opting to lay with it in his hand.  There would be little sleep for him as he listened to the outside world as well as feeling his partner shivering beside him.

Illya began to mumble in his sleep, mumbling names and the word for grandmother in Russian Solo guessed they were his family, though Illya had never shared their identities.

Napoleon lit the candle, keeping his vigil his friend until he quieted down, and that was when he too finally drifted off.

The next morning Napoleon woke, finding Illya in a deep sleep, as he was able to touch him, and after checking, the fever had broken during the night.

He carefully crawled from beneath the warmth of the blankets, blowing out the candle and made his way to the opening of their shelter. Some snow had blown through, creating a little mound at the base of the branches.  Napoleon moved one of them aside, peering out into the camp.

Everything was covered in a blanket of white and from the looks of it, at least two feet of it fell during the night. Snow was still lightly fluttering down among the trees.

He watched as others stirred from their lean-tos, checking on their neighbors and families and he spotted Daciana, heading his way.

Napoleon moved aside the pine branches, and the woman crawled inside, greeting him with a smile and carrying something under a bit of cloth.

“It is good to see you made it through the night...how is your ankle?

“Better, I’ll live, and how are you beautiful lady? He smiled at her, managing to make her blush.

“We managed well enough, and everyone survived the night. And Illya?”

“Fever is gone, but he’s still out cold.”

“It is no wonder as his body has had so much from which to recover. Your friend, I think, is very strong for such a slight man.   He needs good woman to fatten him up, enh?”

“I do not need fattening up,” Illya’s voice came from beneath the blankets. “Why do women always want to do that to me?”

Daciana laughed heartily. “That is the instinct to mother coming out in each of us! Now here is bowl of cold potato soup for the two of you. After you are done eating, come outside as Gavril wishes to speak with you Napoleon.”

“Not me as well?” Illya chimed in.

“You are to stay under blankets. I do not want to you getting sick again.  I will be back later to check  wound and change dressing. I do not wish to risk infection as I have no herbs left that will help with that.”

“Doamnă, dorința ta este comanda mea_madam, your wish is my command,” Illya bowed his head in compliance.”Thank you for taking such good care of me. I am not accustomed to a beautiful woman doing so.”

“Oh you are almost as bad as your friend!” Daciana blushed again and left the men alone.

They shared the bowl of soup, though Napoleon let Illya have more sips, distracting the Russian so he couldn’t keep count.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say I’m starting to rub off on you chum....telling her ‘I am not accustomed to a beautiful woman doing so,’  that sounds like one of my lines.”

“To be precise, it is one of your lines, as you once used it on a woman in Paris after you’d fallen down a flight of stairs....what was her name now?”

“Coquette, her name was Coquette,” Napoleon grinned at the fond memories that popped into his head.

Illya handed the bowl back to his partner, leaving several mouthfuls, and signalled he was done as he buried himself beneath the blankets again.

Solo shook his head not wanting to argue with his partner and, downed the last of the food before heading out to find Gavril.  It was slow going, moving in the knee-deep snow as he made his way to the the man’s shelter. His ankle was still a bit swollen, though the cold of the snow felt good.