Archive of Our Own

Illya lay in contentment on Napoleon’s bed. The early sun shined through the drapes making his pale skin and blond hair glowed. He rolled to the middle of the fluffy king size bed and stretched out. He sensed the sound of toilet flushing followed by water running down the washbasin, then Napoleon came out of the bathroom, a comb in hand and a dark blue tie hung loosely around his neck. He glanced at the naked form on the bed, whose eyes still showed the immense satisfaction from their early morning lovemaking.

“Why aren’t you dress? We’re almost late.” Napoleon said with a frown.

He hated to be the one that ended such an exquisite and lustful scene, since there was nothing more than he wanted than having a naked Illya on his bed in the morning, but they were almost late, and Waverly had warned them not to be late at this conference meeting. Illya pouted his lips and turned towards him.

“I have a day off today, don’t you remember?”

During the last mission, Illya had fallen off of a train while throwing a punch at a Thrush agent, thus caused him suffered a mild concussion. Since his reputation as an extremely difficult patient was well-known throughout the UNCLE medical, both the doctors and the nurses had tried to release him as soon as possible. And because there was no urgent mission to attend to, Waverly ordered Illya to take a day off.

The thought of Illya sleeping in while he sat through the boring meeting made Napoleon narrowed his eyes and squeezed his lover’s thigh hard.

“Hey, Napoleon! Be gentle with me, I’m an invalid.” He squirmed away from his hand.

“So now you’re saying you’re an invalid, but I didn’t see anything wrong with you yesterday night when you had your wicked way with me!”

Napoleon pretended to limp very hard to the other side of the bed where his socks were.

Illya let out a chuckle. “But you love it right?”

Napoleon shot him a dirty look. “I’m serious, Illya Nickovetch! Put on some clothes, and stop seducing me!”

Before he could turn away, Illya sat up abruptly and climbed to the edge of the bed where Napoleon was. He looked up at him with his big blue eyes that mixed innocence with seduction, which were always enough to make Napoleon wild.

“I know you love it.” He purred.

Damn! Illya Kuryakin! Now was not the time! Now was not the time!! Napoleon closed his eyes and turned his head away. Tried to think of something else, Waverly’s angry wrinkle face, paper works piled up like little mountains, but all he could see in his mind was his naked lover, drawing him closer and closer...

“Get your ass ready for me when I get back home tonight.”

He could barely keep his voice steady when he spelled out the words. He breathed in and out several times and thought that was it, everything was finally under control. He went back to retrieve his jacket but his mouth fell open when he saw Illya on his knees, wiggled his butt up high.

“My ass is ready, Polya.”

Napoleon swallowed hard, and felt the blood rapidly ran straight to his groin. If there was one new thing he discovered about Illya after they had become lovers was that Illya was actually a very playful person, especially when they were in bed. He considered for a moment whether he should just throw himself on top of Illya and to hell with Waverly and the meeting, but in the end, fortunately, his communicator beeped and he was saved from the agony. He slapped Illya’s ass playfully and held him up for a kiss.

“See you tonight, baby. Don’t forget what you have promised me.”

Illya flashed him a wicked smile. “Did I ever break promises to you?”

Napoleon shook his head with a smile on his face and walked out of the apartment.

......

Today was actually Napoleon and Illya’s one year anniversary since they became lovers. Napoleon couldn’t believe time had passed this fast, it seemed like yesterday when he first confessed his love to Illya and kissed him in that tiny Thrush cell. It had been an incredible year and there wasn’t any exaggeration at all when Napoleon said Illya was the other half of his soul.

He completed him.

It was so fulfilling to have Illya by his side and he hadn’t been happier since. Of course, there were the usual ups and downs as in every happy couple, but they always made up quickly, which often ended up in the bed with them tangled in each other’s arms. The nature of work also constantly put either one of them in danger, yet they always made it to safety so far, which Napoleon was extremely grateful of. Adding to that, he was super delighted when he found how different Illya could be once they became so close. To most of the outsiders, his lover always had this cold façade that seemed to warn people not to come too close to him, and he rarely smiled the smile that revealed his teeth. But when they were together in private, Illya laughed a lot and he always made Napoleon laughed too even when he had a very grim day. Illya’s love for close physical contact (especially sitting on Napoleon’s laps) was also a surprising thing for Napoleon when he first discovered it. But of course, he was the only one who could ever touch Illya like that.

Napoleon found this delicious piece of information quite by chance one day. He and Illya were each sitting on one side of the sofa; he was reading a newspaper, while Illya had a science journal in hand. He suddenly started to giggle.

“I didn’t know they put jokes in science journals.”

“There’s no joke in a science journal.” Illya replied with his nose still buried in the reading material.

Napoleon turned to look at him quizzically. “Then why are you laughing?”

Illya started to giggle again and the next moment Napoleon had himself a lapful of Russian and two arms around his neck.

“Nothing, I’m just happy, Polya.”

He buried his head in the crook of Napoleon’s shoulder and sighed contently. Napoleon smiled and felt extremely honored that he was the one that made Illya happy. He kissed the silky hair and swore for the thousandth time that he would make Illya laugh as much as possible every single day. And this was the day, Napoleon thought, as he silently pulled out a ring from his pocket and toyed with it under the conference table, that he was going to ask Illya to marry him. Illya was his love of life. His everything.

The marriage proposal was, of course, a surprise, yet he did discuss with Illya on how they wanted to celebrate their anniversary. Illya insisted that he would be the one who was responsible for preparing everything, including the food. Napoleon assumed it was take-out or the like since Illya wasn’t exactly a good cook, but he kept saying it would be something special. Napoleon only shrugged and said he would have something special for him too. He wondered what his surprise would be, then his mind started to wander off to what Illya had promised him earlier this morning. He couldn’t help but smirk at the idea that tonight would be his turn to have his wicked way with his lover, maybe that new sex position they had been dying to try…

“Is there anything you want to say, Mr. Solo?”

Out of nowhere, Waverly’s voice interrupted his mind, which was currently flashing images of him taking Illya in every perceivable way. Napoleon snapped back and looked up at his boss rather embarrassingly. Waverly and half a dozen of UNCLE agents stared back at him. He cleared his throat and slipped the ring carefully back into his pocket.

“No, nothing, sir. I’m sorry.” He swallowed hard. “Please continue.”

Illya was basically living with him full time now, though he often said that he felt very bad about Napoleon having decorated the apartment so hard for him, he only spent there a few hours in total. He merely went back to retrieve his clothes, books, or some necessities. Napoleon smiled at the thought that how married they already were. He pressed the code to his apartment and got into the door.

“Illya, I’m back!” He took off his shoes and loosened his tie.

“I’m in the kitchen!” The voice sounded.

Napoleon surveyed the room, and his eyes instantly widened. Only the kitchen was brightly lit, the light sources for the other areas simply came from candles. Through the flickers of the candlelight, Napoleon picked up a soft, red patch on the carpeted floor.

Was that… a rose petal?

There were more scattered around the floor. He could hardly believe this with his eyes, more surprises from his Russian lover. He walked into the kitchen and saw Illya with his light pink apron on and was busy cooking something on the pan. How cute he looked! Napoleon made a mental note that he should ask Illya to wear it but with nothing on underneath the next time they were in bed. Before he could put his arms around the slim waist, Illya turned around and spotted him.

“Why are you here? I’m not ready yet!”

He put down his laden and pushed Napoleon out of the kitchen until he was sitting on the living room sofa.

“Sit here until I tell you dinner is ready.”

He looked up at Illya in amusement. “Yes, your majesty.”

He watched Illya hurried back to the kitchen and brought out a tiny glass with almost transparent liquid in it.

“Drink this.” Illya urged.

“What is this?” Napoleon frowned as he swallowed the unknown substance.

The taste mixed sweetness with sourness.

“It’s supposed to be something that makes you want to eat more.” He said as he hurried back again into the kitchen.

“But darling, aren’t you going to give your guest a kiss?” He looked at Illya with his deep brown puppy eyes.

Even though his lover narrowed his eyes in response, he gave Napoleon a thorough and passionate welcome kiss. Before he stood up, he grabbed Illya’s firm ass. Illya pretended to be angry and batted his hand away.

“Hey! That’s for later!”

Napoleon laughed while appreciated Illya’s beautiful ass as he walked back into the kitchen.

The next 20 minutes had him walking in and out of the kitchen busily, and Napoleon had to hold on to the sofa cushion tightly to prevent the urge of walking over there to give him a hand.

“Napoleon, dinner is ready!”

Finally! He sat down at the dining table waiting for his surprise. He glanced over the table. There was a big bowl of vegetables, no, Caesar salad with chicken breast on top, Napoleon corrected himself. But next to it was a plate of…? It looked blackish and dry, he probed it a little with his fork and frowned. He quickly put the fork down when he saw Illya holding two plates.

“Please enjoy.” He said and sat down across Napoleon.

He looked at the blackish meat on the plate and used the corner of his eyes to observe Illya. He had a hopeful look on his face, so Napoleon swallowed his doubt and started to cut into the meat. It was hard as a rock, and it took him god knows how long to cut through it and put it into his mouth. It was like chewing a rubber, but he still tried to give Illya a smile.

“Well?”

“It tastes… interesting…”

Illya cut off a piece, and sent it into his mouth. Napoleon watched his frown deepened and his jaw moved faster trying to dissect the hard old meat. As for Napoleon himself, he finally swallowed down the bite, yet one side of his cheeks was very sore. It felt like a sharp rock attempting to pierce through his throat.

Illya sighed and put his utensils down. “Don’t need to pretend, Napoleon, it’s horrible.”

Napoleon wanted to say something to comfort him, but no words came out.

“Have some salad, Napoleon, and some wine.” He nodded.

“At least we still have desert.” Illya said.

He took the two plates back into the kitchen and let out a yelp. Napoleon sprang to the kitchen.

“Are you alright, Illya?”

Illya was currently holding the oven door open and black smoke was coming out. After the smoke dissipated a little, Napoleon saw a few small porcelain bowls with mysterious black substance in them.

“Oh! Chocolate chip cookies, my favorite.”

Though at the back of Napoleon’s mind, he wondered why would Illya put the doughs in porcelain bowls if he wanted to make cookies.

Illya looked into the oven and replied darkly.

“They were supposed to be soufflé.”

“Oh, yes, soufflé! How stupid of me!” Napoleon really wanted to laugh, but seeing how depressed his lover was, he held back his chuckle.

They sat back at the dining table and quietly finished the bowl of Caesar salad. Then Illya suddenly stood up.

“I’m so sorry, Napoleon, this should be a surprise for you, but…” He looked down. “I ruined everything. I’ll call for take-out, what do you like?” He said as he walked towards the telephone.

Before he could reach it, Napoleon stopped him and pulled him down onto his laps.

“Hey, sweetheart, you didn’t ruin anything okay. I’m so happy you’re doing this all for me! It’s so romantic and you know what? The results aren’t important at all.” He kissed Illya and held him tightly in his arms.

“You think so?” Illya’s face beamed up.

But before he could kiss Napoleon in return, he snapped his fingers, hard. “What a fool I am! I almost forgot!”

The next moment, he had already disappeared into the bathroom. Napoleon stood up in confusion and called the take-out.

“Napoleon, no!”

When he walked into the bathroom, he heard Illya’s shout, and found himself in a bathroom full of bubbles, water, and some floating rose petals. Illya was busily clearing the water away into the drain.

“I forgot to close the tap.” He whispered softly, like a little boy waiting for his punishment.

He put the toilet cover down and sat on it heavily with his shoulder slumped down. “I’m such a clumsy fool, look what I have done!”

“What have you done, Illya?” He asked softly.

“What have I done? Napoleon, are you serious?” Illya looked back incredulous at him and saw him stripped down. “What are you doing, Napoleon?”

“What do you think? I’m going to take a bubble bath my sweetheart specially prepared for me.” Illya’s mouth fell open. “Are you going to join me?”

“Later, I’m going to call for the take-out.”

Napoleon climbed into the bathtub and held Illya down until he was sitting on the edge of it.

“I already took care of that. It’ll take some time before the food arrives. Now stay and kiss me.”

Illya’s knees went weak and he complied. And whenever he wanted to say something, Napoleon immediately covered him with his mouth. Illya’s clothes were all wet and when their mouths parted, they were both flushed with arousal and happiness.

“Is that the door?” Napoleon asked.

“It’s the take-out. I’ll get it.”

But Illya made no attempt as he continued to kiss his way down Napoleon’s throat. It was not until the frequency of the doorbell increased did Illya get up reluctantly and went to the door.

He opened the take-out boxes and placed the food carefully on the porcelain plates and discarded the boxes onto the side. So when Napoleon emerged from the bathroom with nothing on but a bathrobe, he had the illusion that Illya cooked another set of meal, rather than eating take-out food from all those unromantic containers. Illya stood by the table and smiled. Napoleon planted a quick kiss on his lover’s cheek then they both sat down and enjoyed their dinner.

After that, they took another bubble bath together with a few rose petals that remained within. As they lay satisfied with food and sex and in each other’s arms on the bed, he sat up and fumbled through his pants draped on the chair beside to get out the ring.

“Illyushu?”

“Yes, Polya?” Illya smiled sleepily.

He held Illya tighter in his embrace and murmured. “Marry me?”

“I thought we were already married.”

“No, we haven’t go through the official process yet.”

“Oh okay. Will you marry me?” Illya immediately said.

Napoleon nudged him with an elbow. “Hey! Why are you stealing my line?”

“Oh, okay.” He cast his eyes down like a little boy got caught red-handed trying to steal cookies from a jar.

“Wait! We need to have a witness!”

He looked around and saw Teddy sitting on the nightstand.

“Teddy can be our witness!”

Napoleon exclaimed excitedly and pulled Illya up until they were both standing beside the bed. He then took Illya’s hands and kneeled down in front of him.

“Illya Nikovetch Kuryakin, my love, will you marry me?”

Illya kneeled down too and held Napoleon tightly against him.

“Yes, Polya! Of course! I love you!”

“I love you too, my Illyushu.”

Napoleon slid the ring down his ring finger on his left hand. Then he turned to Teddy and spoke in a high pitch voice and nodded Teddy’s head.

“You may kiss the groom now.”

So Napoleon kissed Illya with all his love for him and the two tumbled down onto the soft-carpeted floor. Illya looked at the ring with a small smile.

“Like it?” Napoleon asked.

“Yes, it’s so beautiful.”

He caressed Illya’s cheek. “That’s Topaz stone,” He pointed at the crystal-clear blue gem. “it represents my undying love and protection for you. So no matter how far apart we are, remember Illyushu, my love and protection will always be with you.”

Napoleon swore he saw tears in his lover’s eyes, and he was caught tightly into his Russian lover’s arms.

“I’m so happy, Polya!”

I am so happy too, my love, you are all I want in my life.

He looked into Illya’s eyes and held up the hand with the ring to level up with his eyes. “And it has the color of your eyes.”

They finally made it back to bed.

Surrounded by over cooked meat, burned desert, unfinished take-out food, and a slightly flooded bathroom, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin were officially married.

……

They came back from a particularly stressful mission a few weeks later, which the extremely uncooperative innocents almost got both of them killed by Thrush. Once they stepped inside the HQ, they were immediately summoned to Waverly’s office.

“Nice work, gentlemen.” Waverly said as Napoleon and Illya sat down opposite him. “I know you are both exhausted, unfortunately, there are still some matters that require your attentions.” They looked into each other’s tired face. “In fact, I’ll need to separate you and assign different missions.” Their boss sensed the uncertainty in both his agents’ eyes. “Don’t worry, gentlemen, it’s merely temporary. Both of these missions are fairly simple, and you will complete them tonight.”

That was quite a relief, Napoleon thought. Recently, Illya and he were either being assigned to some very easy missions or something extremely difficult and complicated, but either way, they didn’t have a lot of time to rest in between; it was one mission after another. The past few hours had him feeling like a ghost, floating through his mission and carrying out his order. He could definitely use a good night sleep.

He looked over to Illya who was sitting beside him. Black circles formed under his eyes, and he knew Illya was equally exhausted. Napoleon made a promise to himself that after this mission, he was going to ask for a vacation for them both. After all, they didn’t even have a proper honeymoon yet. He planned to bring Illya to his cabin in the country and they could relax and enjoyed each other’s companies and forgot about the heavy burden on their shoulders for a short period of time.

Waverly cleared his throat. “And after this, you two gentlemen can have the weekend off.”

No matter how expendable UNCLE thought of its agents, Waverly admitted that overwork would only bring disastrous results into their jobs.

“Thank you, sir.” They said in unison and took over the files that their boss handed to them.

Napoleon’s mission was to meet a courier at a rendezvous point just a couple blocks away from UNCLE HQ and handed over UNCLE’s newest device to him or her at precisely 2 pm. Illya’s was to escort a minor Thrush agent from UNCLE safe house not far away to HQ in order to allow other agents to question him further. They smiled at each other and suddenly felt quite relax when they walked back to their shared office. Those two missions were indeed both easy and low-risk. Napoleon mentally calculated what kinds of things he would want to do with Illya tonight and found himself grinning broadly.

“I sensed something horrible in you.” Illya said as he opened the files.

“Oh, no, I was just thinking what I’ll like to do to you this weekend.” He looked at Illya with his big, innocent brown eyes.

“I can hardly wait.” Illya replied dryly.

“But first, I’m going to reserve a restaurant for tonight, okay?”

His face lit up with the mention of food and licked his lips.

“Perhaps I’ll consider to do whatever it is in your dirty mind.”

"Tisk tisk," Napoleon said and walked over to him. “is that how a top UNCLE agent should behave? Revealing his weakness so easily?”

“Food is important okay!” Illya protested.

He kissed the top of Illya’s head and turned him around.

“I know, and I love you.”

Illya smiled and sank into his arms.

“Which restaurant are we going?” He murmured.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Okay…”

Illya opened his mouth when Napoleon slipped his tongue in it. It seemed like only a second had passed when the intercom sounded.

“Oh.” Illya looked at his watch, disappointed. “I need to go.”

“See you tonight, Illyushu.”

“See you, Polya.”

Napoleon gave him another kiss and watched him walked out of their office.

Everything went according to the plan, at least for Napoleon’s part. He met the courier and handed him the device, concealed in a hotdog. It took him 30 minutes in total, and now he was in his apartment making a reservation at one of Illya’s favorite restaurants. He spared a glance at his fluffy king size bed. He couldn’t wait to make love to Illya on it and they could sleep in during the weekend in each other’s warmth. If the traffic was light, Illya would be home in another 2 hours utmost. Napoleon rearranged his apartment a little and took a shower while sang loudly to a new song he had just heard on the radio. He put on another suit and picked up a magazine beside trying to kill some time before Illya came back. But somehow, hours had passed, and there was still no sign of his lover. Napoleon began to worry. He called the HQ via his communication pen, and the receptionist replied that Illya hadn’t checked in yet. Pacing around the room, Napoleon tried to calm himself.

It must be the traffic. It must be.

But more hours had passed, still no sign of Illya. He called in to check a few more times, but nothing had shown that Illya was back. Finally, Napoleon canceled the reservation, and tried to reach Illya by his own. After another failed attempt, Napoleon slumped over and fell asleep exhaustedly.

He jerked awake and found that it was already morning. Feeling over the other side of the bed, he expected to get in contact with the warm and soft form like every morning over the past year. But the absence of it made him sat up abruptly and remembered just what exactly had happened yesterday. He quickly put on his jacket and rushed into UNCLE HQ. He took over the badge without even greeting the receptionist and hurried into the office.

“Have you heard from Illya?”

That was the first thing Napoleon asked when he entered Waverly’s office.

“I must go find him.” He said and prepared to leave the room.

“Mr. Kuryakin had only been missing for 12 hours, calm yourself down, Mr. Solo.” Waverly looked at his CEA. “I’m sure Mr. Kuryakin can take care of himself.”

Napoleon lowered his eyes. “Yes, sir, but…”

“Have a seat, Mr. Solo. He’ll be back soon.”

He could do nothing but compiled.

Maybe he was overthinking again, Illya indeed could take care of himself, quite well in fact. He already saw it a thousandth time with his own eyes, but whenever he thought of Illya, his protective instinct was always so strong even before they became lovers. Napoleon took a few deep breaths and accepted a cup of bitter black coffee from the old man’s secretary. He then took his advice and came back to his own office to work on the reports.

......

Hours had passed into days, and days had passed into weeks, still, there was not a single clue as to Illya’s whereabouts. Waverly had sent out a search team three days after his missing, but they came back empty-handed, except discovered the fact that the low-rank Thrush agent was murdered and disposed of in a back alley just a couple miles away from the UNCLE safe house.

As for Napoleon, not a single minute did he allow himself to remotely believe that Illya was died. Every day when he was not occupied with work, he stared at the clock hanging in his office ticking; it pained him so deeply, because his world had been turned upside down brutally yet it was still moving forward. Every night when he turned off the light, the sadness washed him through like strong waves as he held Teddy closely to his chest. It made him felt like Illya was still right in his arms. When sleep called him, instead of falling into oblivious, all he could see is his lover being beaten and heard his sharp cry of pain. And the only thing Napoleon could do is to watch on the side helplessly. He was becoming a living zombie, only a slight hope that Illya might still be alive kept him human. He had devoted the majority of his power and time to search for Illya, about his last mission, about the location, about the people involved, about everything. He had made no progress, except the already known facts. The only thing he was sure was that Illya had obviously walked into a trap. But what was their purpose and what did they want? Waverly had turned a blind eye on Napoleon’s unauthorized actions. He didn’t say anything, perhaps he realized, though of course not intentional, he was the one who sent Napoleon’s partner, one of his best agents, into a well-planned trap.

A month later, Napoleon was jerked awake by the loud beeping of his communicator.

“We found Mr. Kuryakin, Mr. Solo.”

He jumped up from the sofa and barked. “When? Where? Was he hurt?”

“Just now. We found him in front of the UNCLE HQ. We are not entirely sure about his current condition, but he was already been sent to the medical.” The junior agent replied patiently.

Without thanking him, Napoleon rushed out of his apartment and hailed a taxi.

The next moment, he was pushing through his way in the medical and shouted.

“Where’s Illya? Let me see Illya!”

Two agents rushed in and held him tightly by the arms.

“Let me go! I need to see Illya!” He struggled and nearly knocked down one of the agents.

Several nurses came around him and one of the senior ones spoke.

“Please, Mr. Solo. There are other patients in here.”

Knowing he was making a scene, Napoleon reluctantly complied and stopped struggling.

“I’m sorry, but I need to see Illya.” His voice was calmer now, but the urgency was still in it.

“Calm down, Mr. Kuryakin is in a fairly stable condition. Aside from a couple of bruises, he didn’t seem to suffer other injuries.”

Napoleon nodded and let out a breath he didn’t know he is holding.

“May I see him?”

“Yes, but Mr. Solo, please change into our hospital gown.” She handed it to him.

Napoleon took the gown and was suddenly aware that he had only a bathrobe on and a pair of slippers. No wonder the taxi driver looked at him strangely and almost refused to drive him.

“Oh. Thank you.” He replied quietly and slipped into the gown.

......

Napoleon’s knees went weak when he saw his lover lying on the bed, an IV tube inserted into his arm. He gently took Illya’s hand into his and for the whole minute, he could only repeat the same phrase over and over.

“Oh god, Illya, oh god.”

He looked up at the beloved face that he had missed dearly, and smoothed back the golden hair that spread out on the pillow. Though Napoleon’s heart cried of joy, another part of him hurt so much seeing Illya became so skinny and fragile. His face was pale and wax-liked and there was a colorful bruise high on his cheekbone.

Before he could bend down to kiss the high forehead, he felt a hand placed gently on his shoulder. It was doctor Morgan. Doctor John Morgan was approaching his fifties with short, grayish hair, and wore thin, gold-rimmed glasses. He was highly respected and extremely well-liked. Even those notorious and unruly patients like Illya would listen to him, well, most of the time.

“He’ll come to it soon. Don’t worry too much. It’s just…” Doctor Morgan hesitated.

“It’s just what?” Napoleon probed.

Doctor Morgan took Illya’s arm out under the cover and pointed at a small puncture hole in between his upper and lower arm.

“What drug did they give him?” Napoleon asked, instantly alert.

“We’re still trying to find out, Napoleon. But Illya’s initial blood test was normal, so I won’t worry too much.” He smiled and walked away.

Napoleon pulled a chair nearby and placed it beside Illya’s bed. He just wanted to watch his lover sleep. He had missed him so much, so he stayed up the whole night with one hand holding Illya’s hand, the other caressing the cheeks. He must have fallen deeply asleep later on, because he didn’t realize the blanket covered his shoulder. He heard some faint voices coming from the other room and looked at his watch. It was already 11 am. Apparently, he had slept through almost the whole morning. He couldn’t help it, with Illya finally came back to him, he felt his world was once again full of laughter and joy. Then a soft moan came from the bed and he immediately looked up. He saw Illya slowly opened his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes he had been so afraid not to see them again. Napoleon almost cried out in joy and kissed Illya’s palm lightly.

“Why did you stand me up that day? I reserved your favorite restaurant.” Napoleon said teasingly as he squeezed his hand in affection.

Before he could get a reply, doctor Morgan came in.

“Oh, you finally woke up!”

He walked over to Illya’s bedside and skimmed through the chart. Then he looked into Illya’s eyes.

“Mr. Kuryakin, how are you feeling today?”

There was no response. Illya didn’t even look at him.

“I’m doctor Morgan, remember me?”

Still no response, Illya continued to stare in front blankly.

Napoleon looked at Illya then back to doctor Morgan worriedly. He patted Illya’s shoulder lightly and turned to Napoleon.

“Apparently he was still a bit shock. I’ll come back later.”

As soon as he left, Napoleon looked back at Illya.

“I know you hate the medical, but that was hardly the way to get out of it.”

He laughed a little. He squeezed Illya’s hand, but the hand didn’t squeeze back. Then he looked up and saw Illya still had the same blank expression as before. He started to panic a little.

“Illya, it’s me, Napoleon, don’t you remember me?”

His lover did turn towards him, yet he blinked at him, with no recognition in his eyes.

He called doctor Morgan immediately.

He assured Napoleon again that Illya was still in a state of shock under a long month in enemies’ cruel hands, and he would get over it as soon as possible. He also reminded Napoleon that Illya was one of his many patients that had the strongest survival instinct and the fastest recovery rate. Napoleon nodded and tried to swallow the doubtful feeling that was still lingering in his heart. When he turned back to Illya, he was asleep again. He arranged Illya’s blanket and picked up a magazine to read. Illya slept through the day and almost the next day. Napoleon had long abandoned reading those boring magazines the medical seemed to have endless supply of. Instead, he simply turned his attentions to his lover. He was so grateful that Illya was alive and didn’t suffer major injuries. Smoothing over the soft blond hair, Napoleon shuddered at the thought that he had almost lost him. He didn’t know what to do to live a life without Illya.

Doctor Morgan came back to check on Illya again and advice Napoleon to get some food to eat. Upon hearing that, he had suddenly found out that he hadn’t had any food besides a cold sandwich for over 12 hours.

“He’ll be fine, go get something to eat, Napoleon.” He nodded and obeyed. He was a little hungry.

Before leaving the medical, he cast another concerned glance at Illya. Even though he wasn’t sure whether his lover would be awake when he came back, he still bought Illya’s favorite food and brought it back in a big paper sack. He was delighted to find Illya with his eyes opened. He had apparently been awake for sometimes, because his bed was being lifted up into a sitting position.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, are you hungry? I brought your favorite.”

Napoleon set up the small table on the side and placed it on top of Illya’s lap. He started to place all the food on the table, there were steak, chicken soup, and a bowl of salad.

“Oops, not enough space, I’ll get you the dessert later okay?” He said as he placed the cheesecake on the high table beside.

Napoleon sat down and took out the fork and the knife.

“Bon appetite.”

But Illya didn’t seem to notice the feast in front of him, he stared in front instead of the food with equal blankness as yesterday. Napoleon tried to cease the panic that was growing in his chest again. If even the food couldn’t bring Illya back, what would?

“Are you feeling alright, Illya? Do you want me to call the doctor?”

He waited eagerly, but before he could press the call button, Illya turned to him. Napoleon didn’t know why, but he sighed in relief, even though when he met his eyes, they were just as lifeless as yesterday.

He picked up the fork and gently placed it in Illya’s palm. He did grab it slowly, but made no movement. He contemplated whether he should feed Illya himself, but then he saw Illya started to dig in the food. He ate with the same pace and movement, like a robot receiving the same commend over and over again.

“It’s the same huh?”

Napoleon turned around, he didn’t realize doctor Morgan was standing behind him. He nodded.

“We’re running the second blood test for Illya.” He patted Napoleon’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort and went out.

Napoleon’s initial doubt had turned into confusion then fear.

Was Illya simply in shock?

But he had been in a worse state, and the first thing Illya said when he opened his eyes was to complain about being in the medical rather than concerning about his fraction leg that was covered in layers and layers bondage.

Or was he drugged?

The puncture hole on Illya’s arm confirmed that, but the blood test didn’t show anything…

In a blink of time, he found Illya had already finished everything. At least his appetite was still the same, Napoleon smiled at this little part about his lover. He took the fork off Illya’s palm and helped him cleaned up both hands that had steak sauce on. He frowned when he saw Illya’s ring was missing. He thought it might accidentally be lost when he was captured. He wiped Illya’s mouth gently and turned on the television to choose a channel that he thought his lover would enjoy and began to clean up the trash and put all the containers back in the paper sack. When he looked up at Illya again, he was already asleep. Napoleon smiled again. Well, at least Illya seemed to sleep well and eat well. He slowly put the bed down and tugged Illya in securely. He gave him a soft kiss on the forehead.

When he disposed of the trash in the bin on the hallway, doctor Morgan caught on to him.

“Napoleon, the second blood test was out, but there was no indication of any abnormalness in Illya’s blood.” He looked down as if he had failed his friend. “I’m sorry.”

Napoleon shook his head. “No, thank you, doctor Morgan.” He paused as to reassure. “You might be right, Illya can still be in a state of shock.”

“We’ll keep testing, I promise. Illya will be alright.”

Napoleon nodded as a sign of appreciation.

“Oh, and Napoleon?”

He stopped when he was just about to walk back to Illya’s room. Doctor Morgan took out a crumply piece of paper from his pocket.

“I found this in Illya’s pocket the day he was found.” He passed it to Napoleon. “Do you recognize anything about it?” Napoleon carefully flattened the paper in his palm.

You know I don’t want to hurt him. You forced me to.

That was it and there was nothing else. Napoleon frowned at first. He looked at it again. Then the image of Max Craig smirking and telling him about what he wanted to do with Illya came to his mind.

“Max Craig.” He whispered softly and suppressed a shudder.

“Old enemy of yours?” Sympathy showed up on doctor Morgan’s face.

“Yes.”

Before he could ask more, a nervous nurse holding a clipboard interrupted him and led him quickly to the other patients. Napoleon went back to Illya’s room and thought of the message over and over again. More than one year, he thought he would never have to deal with that nasty man anymore. It was true, he hadn’t heard anything about Max Craig after that last encounter, but he was certain that it was him who put the message in Illya’s pocket, and it was obvious that he was also the main conspirator behind Illya’s captivation. The whole thing was like a very dark and horrifying dream. It had him being plotted as the double agent; Craig became the CEA, and controlled and abused Illya anyway he liked. But he had woken up to Illya rescuing him in the Thrush cell, Waverly congratulated them exposing Craig, and Napoleon’s promotion to CEA. However, right now, he suddenly had a feeling that he had never woken from his nightmare, as if this wonderful year with Illya had been nothing but his imagination, and he could see it tumbling down. Napoleon knew Craig wouldn’t kill Illya, not yet, before he had his fun with him, Napoleon clenched his fists in anger at the thought. It was clear that Craig wanted personal revenge for everything Napoleon had done to him, and he obviously knew the best way to hurt the fearless Napoleon Solo was to hurt the most precious person in his life, and in a unique way. ‘He was good at chemistry.’ Illya had said. It must have been the drug that made Illya acted like this. But what would be his next step? Why did he release Illya? No matter what he would do, Napoleon knew he would never let him follow through his evil plan and he would never let him hurt Illya again.

He told doctor Morgan his speculation and he nodded and said he would take the blood sample to the UNCLE lab, so the scientists there could take the blood test further. He also reported to Waverly and his boss only listened in silence and told Napoleon to report back any further progress regarding Illya.

Much to Napoleon’s disappointment yet not totally unexpected, three days later, Illya was still in the same state and doctor Morgan suggested that a familiar place might help him regain his normal function. He also wanted Napoleon to keep a daily journal on Illya’s behaviors, which might help them to solve the mystery of Illya’s current state. As for Waverly, he had given Napoleon three weeks leave to take care of Illya.

“Good luck on everything, Mr. Solo.” The nurses had said.

Napoleon nodded numbly.

Doctor Morgan took out a small UNCLE device and handed it to him.

“This is the emergency button,” He indicated a red button at the middle. “if there’s anything concerned about Illya that you think is serious, you can press this button and I or the other doctors in UNCLE medical will come and help you.”

“Thank you doctor Morgan, I really appreciate this.”

They put Illya on a wheelchair and Napoleon wheeled him out to the parking lot. Looking down at the golden hair, he knew that under normal situation, Illya would be outrageous by the use of a wheelchair, he would rather wobble out even if both of his legs were fractured.

“Take care, Napoleon.” Doctor Morgan said and turned to Illya. “Goodbye, Illya.”

Napoleon opened the car door and bent down to face his lover.

“Sweetheart, I’ll need to carry you into the car, okay?”

It made him felt both funny and sad when he said it. He knew there wouldn’t likely be an answer, but he said it anyway, just to make this desperate situation looked a little bit normal. He helped him into the car and fastened the seatbelt. He gave him a small kiss on the forehead. Illya was still as pale as a ghost and he had lost a lot of weight during the time he was captured. He could not forget how light Illya felt in his arms. Napoleon could sense his fists tightened again; this was not the first time he wanted to kill Max Craig and shredded him into tiny pieces. Napoleon took a deep breath, no! He needed to take care of Illya, that was the most important thing now. Max Craig could wait, though he knew it wouldn’t be long.

Driving back to the apartment, he glances at Illya from time to time, who was staring in front of the road blankly. Napoleon sighed. He pulled the car in and carried Illya out. When they stepped inside the apartment, Napoleon saw Illya’s expression changed while he was hanging up the jackets.

“What happened, Illya?” He felt a surge of panic seeing Illya’s brows furrowed and his body tensed up. “Are you feeling unwell?”

He tried to read Illya’s expression and for a moment, he wanted to press the button to call doctor Morgan immediately. But Illya’s expression was neither pain nor panic, it seemed like he needed something. Napoleon finally understood the meaning of Illya’s expression when he smelled urine and realized Illya had peed in his pants.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ll get you clean up.”

He bent down and helped Illya got out of his pants and underwear. He then eased Illya down on the bed and went in to get a cloth to clean him up. When Napoleon finished cleaning and lifting the carpet for dry cleaning tomorrow, he took off his shirt and joined Illya on the bed. He curled beside Illya watching him falling asleep. He traced the lips and caressed the golden hair over and over again. Illya almost looked normal when sleep claimed him.

“Oh, Illya.”

All the sadness suddenly came up to him. Napoleon hadn’t cried for years, but right now, he could feel hot tears streaming down his cheeks and he didn’t bother to wipe them away. His proud, independent, intelligent lover had reduced into a vulnerable, fragile, and dependent person, needing constant care and protection. He missed Illya’s witty remarks, the way he smiled, and most of all, he missed how Illya looked at him with all the love and adoration showing Napoleon he meant all the world to him. The denial stage had passed, Napoleon had now been over washed by sorrow. He pulled Illya closer to him and felt the warm body pressed against his.

He just wanted his Illya back.

......

The following few days, Napoleon busied himself in finishing up some of the paper works and taking care of Illya. Truth to be told, Illya didn’t need much taking care of besides feeding him and cleaning him up. While writing a daily log for doctor Morgan on Illya’s condition, Napoleon looked up at his lover who was sitting on the sofa and staring out at the window blankly. There seemed to be no progress in him, it was the same day after day. Napoleon didn’t know how to describe his own feeling precisely. It was not an open wound that he could take care of and know that it would eventually heal. It was something so deep yet invisible inside that haunted him and reminded him that he could never find a way to cure it. If Illya was hurt physically, Napoleon knew a million ways to make his lover felt better immediately, but this was completely different.

The room was getting cold. He stood up and closed the window. He bent down towards Illya and covered him with a blanket.

“Are you hungry, Illya?”

Even though again, Napoleon knew he wouldn’t get an answer, but he asked anyway. In a tiny way, he still refused to believe Illya would be in this state forever, it just took time.

When his three weeks leave was up, Napoleon was worried about Illya and what he should do about him. Waverly was gracious enough to ask him to bring Illya with him to the office if he thought he was able to work and take care of Illya at the same time. Waverly assigned simpler assignments to Napoleon, so he could stay in the office without staying too far away from Illya even for a day. He wheeled Illya into the office and settled him down on an armchair beside his desk and started to go through a pile of reports on his desk. Mark Slate and his partner, April Dancer, came by and offered their help. They treated Illya as if no accident had happened, but he could see the sympathies in their eyes. He tried to ignore it and concentrated on more important matters in hand. Now his own initial shock was over, he started to think of how he could bring Illya back. The easiest way was to find the remedy, but that was easier to say than done. Even though his boss didn’t doubt Napoleon’s sixth sense, he couldn’t send out his agents to investigate Craig without concrete evidence. Moreover, the latest report from doctor Morgan indicated that they were still working on Illya’s blood test yet didn’t see any progress.

It was late when they arrived home. The weather outside was cold and it was pouring rain. When they entered the lobby, Illya was sneezing. Napoleon thought it would be a good idea if he gave Illya a hot bath, so he filled up the bathtub with hot water and helped him got out of his clothes. He carried him over until Illya’s body was sunk inside the tub. He took a towel and started to wash Illya over thoroughly yet gently. A floating rose petal in the tub caught his attention. Holding it up, he remembered it was from the day when Illya prepared for their first year anniversary. He recalled what a mess his lover had made in both the kitchen and the bathroom, and Illya was so frustrated that he screwed up everything. He remembered how he gathered Illya in and kissed his pouting lips until the frown on his face were gone and was replaced by a happy flushing face. After a brief interruption of bringing in the take-out and eating it, Napoleon had urged Illya to return to their previous activity. They rushed to the bathroom and wiggled out of their clothes and jumped into the bathtub. They kissed for a long time and after some moments, Illya was lying on top of Napoleon and both were panting heavily.

Napoleon snapped back from his thoughts when he heard a strangled low moan from Illya. He found he had unconsciously squeezed Illya’s wrist too tight. He immediately released it and rubbed the red marks on his wrist.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m just…”

Napoleon held on to Illya and put his head on Illya’s damp blond hair. The water was getting cold, so he quickly shook out his mind and concentrated on washing Illya then wrapped him in a big fluffy towel. He tugged Illya into bed and put Teddy beside him. Illya’s big blue eyes were staring straight towards the front. They were the same beautiful eyes, yet without the gleam and mischievous in them.

Napoleon kissed him on the forehead. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

He went to the living room and turned on the TV and switched over the channel idly. When he was half asleep, a knock on his door immediately alert him and Napoleon picked up his Special and stood by the door. He didn’t see anyone through the peephole, only an envelope laid on the doorstep. Napoleon picked it up carefully and looked for any signs of danger and decided it was just a normal package. He opened it and took out a piece of paper.

What’s it like to get something back, but he was no longer the same?

Napoleon gasped in shock.

The envelope was heavy with something else. He took it out and found it was the ring he gave to Illya, yet the gem was gone. The anger and guilt suddenly replaced all the worries and sadness he had recently. He wanted to kill Max Craig until his body was pierced with bullets for what he had done to Illya, what he had done to them; he wanted to shout at Waverly, who sent Illya into an obvious trap, and he wanted to shout at himself, for not being able to rescue Illya and let him fell into Craig’s brutal hands. He told Illya he would protect him no matter where he was, yet he failed…

Napoleon screamed and threw the vase placing on the dining table towards the door. It smashed into it and broke into tiny pieces. He took a deep breath and walked towards the door, trying to clean up the mess. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Illya standing beside the bedroom door, watching him. Napoleon walked towards him and gathered him tightly into his arms.

“What are we going to do?” He buried his face into Illya’s shoulder, asking desperately.

Napoleon knew it was still unlikely for Waverly to take action against Max Craig, so he decided to take the matter into his own hands. He talked to April and Mark, even though they didn’t exactly approve his action, they agreed to look after Illya until he came back. While checking over the gadgets he needed to bring for one last time, Waverly unexpected walked into his office.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked right away.

“I’m going to try to get the remedy for Illya.”

Like his boss, Napoleon didn’t try to hide anything, because he knew even if his boss tried to stop him, he would still go anyway. Nothing was going to stop the determined American to save his lover and bust Max Craig’s head. He walked pass his boss and prepared to walked out of his office when two agents came in and pointed their Special at him.

“What is this?” Napoleon asked coldly.

“What do you think?”

“I’m going to save Illya and bust that bastard’s head.” He said, not knowing he was thinking out loud.

“I know.” Waverly replied quietly.

“Then why are they here?” He met Waverly’s eyes.

“Because you’re not thinking carefully, Mr. Solo. You’re going directly into Max Craig’s trap.”

Napoleon ignored him and tried to walk pass the two guards, but his office door refused to open.

“What is this?” He turned back and questioned again. “If you do not agree with my action,” He took out his identification card and threw it onto the table. “I resign.”

“You’re acting exactly what Craig wants you to do.”

“So what?” He countered, anger in his voice.

“So you walk right into his trap!” Waverly was raising his voice too.

Napoleon suddenly flung himself to Waverly but was immediately pulled back by the two agents.

“You let Illya walked into a trap!! You planned this all along!”

Napoleon shouted and all his strength suddenly left him and they put him down on a chair. Waverly didn’t say anything but wait for him to calm down. Napoleon panted heavily and his brain finally calmed down a bit realizing what he had just said.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Solo.”

“It’s just, I can’t do this anymore, seeing Illya like this…” His voice trembled.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“We all care and wish Mr. Kuryakin will get well soon, but this is not the way to do it. What if you were killed, what would be of him?”

Napoleon swallowed, he actually hadn’t thought about that at all. The scene played out in his mind when he saw himself got killed and Illya being taken care of by someone who did not care about him at all. UNCLE might look after Illya and arranged someone to take care of him, but eventually, he would be sent to some anonymous care center. And he might be beaten or starved since he could no longer defend himself. Napoleon saw Illya in tattered clothes lying on a dirty mattress and an impatient caretaker not caring whether he was starved and sick. And if a miracle suddenly occurred and Illya turned back to normal, he would be living in guilt knowing that he couldn’t save Napoleon.

Napoleon shook his head. “No! I couldn’t let that happen! No!” He looked up at Waverly. “What should I do, sir? What should I do?”

Waverly pulled out a chair opposite him.

“Since Max Craig was sending you, um, souvenirs, it’s obvious that he is monitoring your movements. It's only a matter of time when he takes action and captures you, or more likely, both of you.”

Napoleon remembered how Craig hated him deeply and wanted Illya. Waverly continued.

“Do what you should do and take care of Mr. Kuryakin. I’ll send a few agents following you when you are outside. Sooner or later, Craig will take you and we’ll go into action.”

Napoleon nodded. This might be the best for now.

“And don’t worry, Mr. Solo. Even if Craig didn’t take the bait, UNCLE scientists will likely to discover a remedy for Illya.”

Napoleon nodded again and Waverly tugged Napoleon’s identification card back into his shirt pocket.

“Thank you, sir.”

Waverly nodded and walked out of his office, with the two agents followed behind.

......

The following few days, Napoleon followed Waverly’s instructions and continued his normal daily life with Illya. Taking him to work and bringing him back home. On the weekend, he took Illya out, either to spend an afternoon at a park, or enjoyed dinner in a quiet restaurant. But whenever they were in public, Napoleon always knew that two or sometimes even more UNCLE agents were following them around for their safety. This method was rather ambivalent for Napoleon. On one hand, he hoped Craig could quickly take the bait, so he could get the remedy and turn Illya back to normal; on the other hand, he knew Craig wouldn’t take the bait so easily. He was sneaky and… smart, Napoleon really couldn’t deny that. It took him a certain amount of willpower to convince himself not to go after Craig on his own, but waited patiently for the opportunity. When he had the urge to start his own pursuing, the only thing he needed to do was to look at Illya, then he knew he was in the place where he was most needed.

However, after couple weeks later, Napoleon had lost his patience. He felt more and more frustrated every day. Craig clearly wouldn’t take the bait, but he didn’t take action either. As usual, Napoleon finished his work in UNCLE and took Illya home. When he pressed the code and opened the front door into the dark apartment, he felt something unfriendly lurking in the room. Immediately shielded Illya with his own body, Napoleon took out his Special, but before he could take any further action, something hard knocked at the back of his head, and he was out cold instantly.

When he woke up sometimes later, his head hurting liked someone had mixed up his brain. He turned his head a little to the side, and couldn’t help suppressing the little moan escaping from his mouth. He tried to move his hands, and found they were bound tightly.

“Well, well, well, look who’s awake!”

Even though his brain had just come out from unconsciousness, Napoleon could recognize Max Craig’s voice anywhere.

“The famous Napoleon Solo.”

Another thought immediately came to his mind. Illya! The sudden twist of his head immediately made him gasped out. He looked around and surveyed his surrounding. He was still in his apartment. To be precise, he was in his bedroom, bound to a chair, and was being placed at the end of his king size bed. Two mean-looking guards were standing in front of him, holding the unmistakable Thrush rifles.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Solo, your lover is not hurt, at least not yet.”

Craig’s voice came from the bed. Napoleon turned and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed and a hand caressing Illya’s curved up form. Napoleon anxiously looked for any injuries on Illya’s body. Craig seemed to read his mind, and he moved aside to let Napoleon had a better access. Illya was still clothed and had no apparent injuries. His eyes were opened and they blinked when Craig’s hand went over his hair then to his cheeks. Napoleon heard a content sigh from Craig when he traced his fingers over Illya’s lower lip.

“Such a pretty little thing, but I guess you already know that, yes, Solo?”

He turned and smirked when he saw Napoleon’s face reddened in fury. He tried to compose himself, and reminded himself that a good agent should never reveal his emotions so plainly. But seeing Craig touching Illya and he could only watch helplessly, made Napoleon forgot almost all of his spy training. He breathed in hard and tried to work on the bond instead. It wasn’t a rope this time, rather something more concrete and tight, like a leather belt. His arms were already numb by the lack of circulations.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this.” Craig continued to say as his hand moved down to Illya’s chest. “More than a year I’ve been working on this drug and waiting for the right time to start my plan for revenge.”

He turned back to Napoleon, who stared at him with the utmost hatred. “Now once again, I’m going on with this plan, and none of you is going to stop me anymore!” He unbuttoned Illya’s first two shirt buttons. “And Mr. Solo, don’t expect anyone to save you, nobody will. Do you seriously think I’ll take the bait when more than two UNCLE agents are following you when you’re outside? Did Waverly really think I’m that stupid or something?”

He went back to touch Illya. “Look how obedient and sweet he is.”

Craig smirked. He suddenly held Illya roughly up by the arms and gave him a bruising kiss. When he released him, Napoleon could see a tiny trace of blood oozing out from Illya’s lower lip. Before Napoleon could either spit or remark some threats, one of the guards backhanded him and sent his head lolling to another side.

“Still not giving up, aren’t you?” Craig shook his head and sighed. “You give me the most pain, Solo, and I told you I’ll make you pay for all this one day.”

Looking Illya up and down carefully, he wet his lips. “I suffered a little drawback last time we met, and Thrush central wasn’t exactly happy, but now I have my second chance, and by the way, they had already promised me to let me keep Illya as my little plaything.”

Napoleon no longer hid his anger anymore and struggled feverishly at the bond.

“Do you want to know what I plan to do to your lover?”

He pushed Illya back onto the bed until he was lying on his stomach. Craig yanked down Illya’s pants along with his underwear, till they were both around Illya’s ankles. He grabbed Illya’s ass hard enough to leave red handprints.

“Such a sweet ass,” He turned back to Napoleon. “do you fuck him often?”

Getting no reply from Napoleon, he shrugged and went back to Illya.

“You’re going to watch me fuck him, then I’ll kill you slowly and painfully later on.” He laughed menacingly. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this so much.”

Napoleon could see the bulge on Craig’s pants and saw him unzipped his fly and placed his hands on either side of Illya’s ass cheek. At that split second, as if some kind of super power had possessed Napoleon, he felt his whole body heated up and he broke the chair’s headboard and attacked Craig until he pushed him hard against the wall, a hand gripped tightly at Craig’s shirt. The two guards attempted to stop Napoleon, but his super strength made him knocked them both down without a second delay.

“Get your fucking hands off him, do you hear me?”

Craig was obviously in shock of Napoleon’s sudden superman strength as he widened his eyes in disbelief. His attempt to struggle only made Napoleon shoved him harder against the wall.

“Where’s the remedy?”

Hearing no response from Craig, Napoleon picked up his Special on the floor and pressed the muzzle hard against his temple.

“Where’s the remedy?” He asked again, his tone murderous.

“There’s no… remedy…”

“What?”

“I never had the intention to make one…”

“What? Why?”

Napoleon felt his own knees got weak and he pushed Craig down to the floor. He struggled to sit up and tried to catch his breath at the same time.

“Don’t... need one, I plan to let Illya stay like this, so I can take him anytime…”

Before he could finish the sentence, Napoleon punched him with the gun grip and sent him right down to the floor again. He pointed his Special at him, and a short debate started in his mind as to whether to kill him right away. He knew he wasn’t supposed to kill an unarmed man, but what right did this man have? God, he hurt Illya so badly and tried to rape him… Napoleon’s finger moved to the trigger.

“Napoleon!”

A shout came from behind and Napoleon almost shot the man shouting his name instead. Then he found the voice belonged to doctor Morgan.

“What…?”

As if all the strength suddenly drained out from him, his hand loosened and he dropped his Special. He saw several UNCLE agents ran into his apartment and dragged the unconscious guards away, then they came back and cuffed Craig’s hands behind and led him away. He was obviously still in shock as he realized once again his plan had been ruined, and this time, he would never have another chance. Watching his fellow agents finished picking up their enemies, Napoleon slumped weakly down to the floor.

“You pressed the emergency button,”

He looked at doctor Morgan in confusion. “I did?”

His body must have bumped into the button and accidentally activated it during the fight.

“and said that I acted on instinct, I knew you and Illya were in trouble, so I brought some agents with me.”

“Thank you.”

There was simply too much going on and Napoleon only nodded numbly in reply.

“Oh my god! Illya!”

Ignoring his still throbbing head, Napoleon supported his body up with both his elbows and ran to Illya, who was still curving up on the bed, half naked. He quickly helped Illya putting on his underwear and pants and held him up gently until he was in a sitting position. He wet the corner of his shirt with his saliva in order to wipe the blood away on Illya’s lips. Illya stared at him blankly and Napoleon held him tightly against his body. He didn’t care if there were still other agents in the room and the fact that doctor Morgan was currently standing behind him, watching them.

“It’s okay, baby, I got you, he’s not going to hurt you anymore.” Napoleon rocked him slowly and smoothed back his lover’s hair.

Afterward, he had doctor Morgan examined Illya making sure he was alright.

“It’s over now, Napoleon.”

“It’s not over, there’s no remedy for Illya.”

“What?”

“Craig didn’t make one.”

He let out an exasperation sigh.

“What should I do, doctor Morgan? I don’t know anything anymore.”

Knowing if there was no remedy from the creator, their chances were slimmer to turn Illya back. The science team in UNCLE still made no progress on inventing one, so doctor Morgan could do nothing but patted Napoleon’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

......

“I’m going to pull you out of the missions, Mr. Solo.”

“What?”

Napoleon couldn’t believe first it was Illya, and now he was going to lose his job.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Solo. Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. I mean I’m putting you on the leave until further notice.”

Napoleon breathed out, but he was still confused.

“I really appreciate this, sir, but what exactly do you want me to do? If you’re talking about Illya, I can bring him to work, you know that. I’ve been doing this for weeks now.”

“That’s not what I meant, Mr. Solo.” Waverly paused and regarded the CEA. “I understood that you and Mr. Kuryakin knew each other way back when you were both children. I think it might help if you take him back to your hometown. Your parents’ house, your school, just to show him around. It might help with his condition.”

Napoleon thought for a while and nodded slightly. “Yes, sir.”

‘Familiar places’ doctor Morgan had said, but truth to be told, he didn’t have much hope anymore.

Napoleon pulled out a suitcase underneath the bed, and threw the clothes he and Illya needed for who knew how long the trip would be. Illya was sitting on the bed, his legs dangled on the edge of the bed. Napoleon smiled up at his lover, and put a hand gently on his knee.

“I’ll bring Teddy too, don’t worry.”

He took Teddy down from the nightstand and put it into the suitcase.

“Mom and dad will be so happy to see you, Illyushu.”

Their parents had accepted Napoleon’s relationship with Illya, though they were certainly in shock when he told them soon after they became lovers. Illya had been to Napoleon’s parent’s house a few times after they started their relationship. His parents had already viewed Illya as their own son, like Napoleon, they fell in love with the blond hair little boy way back and since then on, Illya had a new family. When Napoleon phoned his parents about Illya’s condition shortly after his release from the medical, his mom had cried and he too, had felt himself tear up. Napoleon closed the suitcase and looked up at Illya.

“We’ll need to go to bed now, okay, sweetheart? We have to get up early tomorrow.”

They arrived at Napoleon’s parent’s house the next afternoon. His mom had run out and greeted them.

“Your father will be back home soon.” She said to Napoleon.

She hugged her son and turned to Illya.

“Oh, Illya dear, how do you do? You look more and more handsome each time I saw you.”

She smiled, even though Napoleon could sense the sadness in her tone knowing she would not get a response or action. She ushered them into the house, and pulled out a chair at the dining table and helped Illya down on the chair. Napoleon took their suitcases up to his room. His room hadn’t changed at all since he left home for college, and some model planes and cars he built when he was in high school were still on the shelf. He took Teddy out of the bag and put it beside the bed. He had given all his Teddy bears away to a neighbor who had little kids.

When he came down the stairs, he saw his father had come back. He then went to the kitchen to help his mother prepared dinner. Napoleon put the appropriate amount of food on Illya’s plate and picked up the fork and carefully placed it into Illya’s palm. It had been a while now, so Napoleon got used to help Illya with his daily routine, but now, seeing his mother burst into tears watching Illya ate at an even pace, lifeless eyes staring straight forward, he remembered how hard it was for him in the beginning to see Illya acted like that.

“Mom…” Napoleon tried to reach her in order to comfort her.

“It’s nothing, dear, eat your dinner…”

His mother stood up and left the table without finishing her food. Napoleon tried to go after her, but his father gestured him to finish the meal and he stood up instead to go after his wife.

Napoleon lowered his head and sighed.

After the dinner, Napoleon sat on the swing chair in their backyard with Illya falling asleep on his lap. He rocked the chair slowly, a hand went over to gently caress Illya’s hair. He wondered how long this would be going on and what would become of their future. There was no doubt Napoleon would take care of Illya forever, that was certain. He loved him too much for even considered other possibilities. But how long could that be? Eventually, he needed to go back to UNCLE and started to work, then where would that leave Illya? He could ask his parents to take care of Illya for a while, and maybe a miracle would occur, UNCLE found the remedy…

His thought was interrupted when his father came out from the back door.

“Son.”

Napoleon looked up.

“Hey, dad. Is mom alright?”

“She’ll be alright, it’s very hard for her seeing Illya like that.”

Napoleon nodded. He could see through his father’s sorrowful eyes that it was also very hard on him.

“Is he asleep?” His father asked looking down at Illya.

“Yes.”

He handed a blanket to Napoleon, and he covered it over Illya.

“Thanks.”

“Take good care of him,”

“I will.”

His father paused before heading back.

“and yourself, alright?”

Napoleon watched until his father disappeared into the house, and he went back to continue to smooth over his lover’s silky blond hair.

When Napoleon had no other things to occupy him, he took Illya around the neighborhood as much as possible and pointed out all the familiar sights. They walked pass the gate of their elementary school, hearing the children’s laughter and the sounds of the bell. They also revisited the dark alley which was the home of three large size trash bins now. Napoleon remembered vividly the days they had saved each other in there from the big bully.

“Hey, Illya, do you remember the big dog?”

Napoleon pointed at a dog cage in a yard of one of his old neighbors. When they were little, Illya would always hide behind him when they passed this house, even though there were fences around the yard. He used to tease Illya about his fear of dogs, and Illya had pouted his lips and pretended to be angry. But in fact, Napoleon was secretly happy that he was the one who Illya sought for protection.

“I think that’s her grandson now.” Napoleon said as he pointed at a large black and white dog resting on the grass.

Illya only stared at him blankly as usual and made no attempt to squirm towards Napoleon when they walked pass the big dog. When they almost reached home, he saw a little blond hair boy walking alongside a little dark hair boy, one a bit taller than the other, and they were laughing at each other’s jokes. It reminded him so much of the time when he and Illya were both little. Emotions threatened to consume him and Napoleon’s arm automatically went around Illya’s shoulder tighter.

......

It had been a few weeks since Napoleon took Illya back to his hometown. So far, he hadn’t seen any sign of improvement in Illya, yet somehow, he wasn’t really expecting one. He contacted doctor Morgan from time to time, asking progress on the development of the remedy. There seemed to be none and what made the matter worse was that even though UNCLE successfully got Max Craig’s coded lab note, the agents weren’t in time to question Craig before he committed suicide with the pill hidden in his tooth. Napoleon sighed and tried to get some sleep. Sleep seemed to elude him more and more often recently.

Napoleon awoke in the middle of the night and found out Illya wasn’t beside him on the bed. He panicked because in Illya’s current state, he would never go anywhere besides being led by other people. He reached for his Special and tried to calm himself down as he checked around the house. Founding his parents safe and sound on the bed, he continued his search. He found the door to the attic slightly parted, and he pushed through it slowly.

“Illya?”

He switched on the light, and saw Illya standing in the middle of the attic.

“Baby, what are you doing here? You’re going to catch a cold like this.”

He took off his pajama top and wrapped it around Illya’s shoulder. As he led Illya out of the attic, he saw a drawing he and Illya put on when they made this attic their secret base over 20 years ago. He picked it up. The color had faded and the corners were torn.

“Illya, do you remember this? We put our drawings and some posters we collected up here and made this our very own secret base.”

In fact, the place didn’t change much, there was still a little space in the middle of the attic and a few old posters hanging loosely on the wall. He saw two old sleeping bags rolled up and were placed on the side. Illya had asked him whether they would be together forever when they snuggled closely together in the sleeping bags many years ago, and Napoleon had answered yes. Then fate had pulled them apart yet reunited them again. Before Illya’s kidnap, he thought this time, they would be together forever. While Illya was indeed at his side now, he was not the same anymore… the complicated emotions and the memories made his head hurt. He knew how easy it was for him to cry after Illya’s accident and he didn’t try to hold it back anymore. Tears burst out of his eyes and he put his arms tightly around Illya.

“I miss you, my Illyushu. Come back! Don’t leave me like this!”

He felt utterly exhausted, vulnerable, and completely hopeless. He buried his face in Illya’s shoulder and sobbed.

After seemly endless moments, he held back and looked into Illya’s eyes. As usual, he expected to see a blank expression, but instead, he saw the recognition and the softness in Illya’s eyes.

“Polya.” Illya said. His voice barely audible.

“…Illya?”

Napoleon couldn’t believe his eyes and ears.

“Don’t cry, Polya.” Illya said again and wiped off the tears on his face.

Napoleon didn’t know whether he was crying or laughing anymore. All he knew was that he put all his love and joy in them as he kissed Illya. Then they held on to each other for a very long time.

A few weeks later-

Napoleon and Illya picked up a new pair of rings in the jewelry shop and they went to a very expensive French restaurant to celebrate another successful mission. When they arrived at the front of Napoleon’s apartment, now their apartment, Napoleon purposed to Illya all over again. They kissed and Napoleon pressed the code to open the door.

“Are you going to carry me in?” Illya asked him with amusement.

“Do you want me to?” He reached out his hand to caress Illya’s cheek.

“Yes, very much,” His smile broadened. “but if you prefer me carrying you instead, that’s fine for me too.”

“Come on, Illyushu.” Napoleon chuckled and with a swift move, he carried Illya up.

Illya put his arms around Napoleon’s neck and kissed him.

“I love you, Polya.”

Napoleon looked into the beloved face and kissed back. “I love you too, my sweetheart.”

Then he kicked the door shut.

Napoleon knew there would be more challenges for him and Illya to deal with in the years to come, courtesy to their unique profession, yet he was confident that no matter what kinds of obstacles the world attempted to throw towards them, nothing could make them give up or pull them apart. They would always be on each other’s side, loving and supporting one another throughout, because they were made for each other.

The End <3