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It had happened during a mission, when they were escaping a burning warehouse. They were running for the door, Illya leading the way, when a flaming beam had started swaying above them. Napoleon barely had time to tackle Gaby to the ground before it had crashed, right where she’d been standing a moment before. He didn’t had time to soften their landing, and his wrist had taken the full impact of their fall.
Now sitting in the back of the little getaway car, he tried to move it as little as possible to prevent pain. If he could hold on until the ride was over, he could take care of it at home and no one would have to know.
«You okay Cowboy? You look pale.» Illya’s eyes were scanning him through the rear-view mirror.
«I’m fine. Just a bit car-sick due to Gaby’s smooth driving,» he joked, suppressing a wince when a bump on the road reverberated into his wrist. Peril only hummed in response, eyes back on the map to their way home.
«Take a left,» he indicated. The sharp turn sent Napoleon in the door, broken limb first. Pain exploded in his arm, his vision blurred, his ears started ringing, and he felt himself slip out.
«Solo»
When he regained consciousness the car was stopped on the side of the road, his partners watching him worryingly, Gaby slightly shaking his shoulder.
«I’m okay,» he said while propping himself up with his right hand. «Just a little faint.» Even this small movement was torture, and he couldn’t suppress his flinch, drawing his injured wrist to his chest to protect it from further shock.
Illya delicately took his hand in his and started examining his articulation, handling it carefully to not cause Napoleon more pain. All the while Gaby watched him as if he suddenly was going to die, her hand still on his shoulder.
«It’s broken,» Illya said at last. «You need to go to hospital to put a cast on it.» He took the map again, scanning it rapidly. «Luckily next hospital is only 10 kilometers away. Let’s go.»
Solo didn’t have time to protest that Gaby was already turning back in her seat and starting the car again. She followed the Russian indications, driving much more softly than before, eyes fixed on the road in front of her.
The ride to the hospital was rather quick, and they only had to wait 30 minutes before Napoleon was taken care off. 30 minutes during which he had tried several times to convince them that it was really nothing, until Gaby had threatened to knock him down and tie him to his chair if he attempted to leave. Meanwhile Illya had proceeded to glare at anyone who even breathed in his direction, nurses and doctors included, and Napoleon was pretty sure he would had rather taken care of him himself than let strangers do it. It was quite endearing really.
His turn fianlly came and Illya begrudgingly let him go with the nurse.
«Do you want me to come with you?» Gaby asked, her brows a little furrowed with worry.
«I’ll be fine,» he smiled reassuringly at her. «Thanks though.» And he followed the nurse into the treatment room.
Gaby and Illya sat there, both lost in thoughts. Until now she had always thought of Solo as somewhat a selfish person, with his look and manners so «James Bond» like, but thinking back on it he had always kept an eye on her, since the very beginning. He had taken time to reassure her about working with Illya, only living them alone when sure she would be fine. He had checked on them several times during the Vinciguerra affair, to make sure Illya wouldn’t endanger the mission and, come to think of it, wouldn’t endanger her.
Napoleon’s care was made of quiet acts, something you didn’t notice when you didn’t need it, but that you were grateful for when you did. He didn’t make a show of helping people, and never asked for anything in return. He was just there, a reassuring presence to lean on.
Illya’s train of thoughts was rather similar, although he had noticed how Solo always kept a close eye on Gaby. And he knew Cowboy kept an eye on him too, even he chose to ignore the actual reason why.
45 minutes passed until the nurse came back, Napoleon following her. She gave the medicines prescription to Gaby and recommended he didn’t spend the night alone, as the painkillers they injected him were quite strong and could cause and dizziness. For the moment Solo looked almost joyful, and he thanked the nurse a good 3 times before following them out of the hospital and into the car.
At his apartment Gaby was tasked with helping him shower while Illya prepared them something to eat. She helped him out of his jacket and sweater and sat on the edge of the tub as he showered.
«Gaby...?»
«Hm?»
«I can’t wash my hair...»
She smiled at that. «Finish here and I’ll do it.»
He stepped out of the cubicle in just a towel, and she politely turned away when he putted his pajama pants on.
«Kneel in front of the tub, your head above it,» she instructed, rolling her sleeves. He did as she said, not without commenting that it kind of felt like she was going to behead him. Turning the water on she proceeded to wet then wash his hair, the simple gesture more intimate than anything they ever did before. When rinsing she could feel him relax under her touch, letting all the tension and adrenaline from the mission go. At the same time she listened to the sounds of Illya cooking in the next room,and she thought she could get used to that, to that feeling of domesticity with them.
Once she was done she ordered him up and to sit on the tub as she grabbed a towel to dry his hair.
Illya’s head appeared at the door. «Dinner’s ready.»
«Good, we’re nearly finished here.»
Gaby quickly toweled Solo’s hair before giving them a swift brush. «There, you’re done,» she said with a satisfactory look at her work. Napoleon smiled. «Thanks Gab.»
They ate in silence, all of them too tired to make conversation. After dinner Gaby went to take a shower, leaving Solo and Illya on the couch watching a Marilyn Monroe movie.
As the movie went on Napoleon felt himself doze off, and he quickly ended with his head on Peril’s shoulder. In any other circumstances Illya would had probably pushed him away, but he indulged him, going as far as to sightly change his position so his partner would be more comfortable.
He felt good here, warm and comfortable, so he let himself drowse. He only opened his eyes when Gaby joined them, and quickly closed them again when she slipped her little hand in his.
Solo let out a little content sigh when Gaby squeezed his hand, and Illya smiled at her fondly above his head. They sat like this, watching TV, Napoleon snoring softly between, until they both fell asleep.