Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2025-10-14
Completed:
2025-11-03
Words:
600
Chapters:
6/6
Comments:
15
Kudos:
40
Hits:
448

The Post-Explosion Affair

Summary:

Illya sets off an explosion in a Thrush satrap. He and Napoleon are a little too slow clearing the blast area.

A story in 6 drabbles.

Chapter 1: Illya

Chapter Text

The explosion knocked Illya off his feet and everything went black.

When he awoke, and opened his eyes, the darkness remained. Inky blackness surrounded him. Something heavy was pinning him down. The silence was unnerving. Where was Napoleon? Was he under a pile of rubble ,alive but trapped? Or was he... dead?

Very tentatively, fearful of dislodging the debris, Illya reached out, seeking something – anything – to show he wasn’t alone in this dark, silent place. His fingers touched flesh, warm living flesh. A hand closed around his. Napoleon’s hand! They lay side by side, united by their clasped hands.

Together

Chapter 2: Napoleon

Chapter Text

Napoleon awoke to an uncanny silence. Was this death? The pain in his back belied that. So, he wasn't dead, but where was he? And why couldn't he hear anything? He tried to shift his position and discovered he couldn't move, something or someone was holding him down. Momentarily panicked he tried to lift himself up. Several sharp, painful objects rained silently down on his head. His mind groped for understanding. He remembered an explosion... and Illya! Where was Illya? 

Something warm and soft touched his wrist. He reached out, grasped it and lay still, holding Illya's hand tightly. 

Alive. 

Chapter 3: Illya - continued

Chapter Text

Illya lay face-down in the black, silent world. Why was it so quiet? Were they buried so deep that no sound could penetrate? Would they die here, hand in hand, under the remains of the satrap they'd destroyed? A destiny they'd always been aware of but never truly believed would claim them. 

Gradually the darkness seemed to lessen. Was this rescue? Capture? Belated adjustment to the all-pervading blackness? Or simply wishful thinking?

Had Napoleon felt the shift in atmosphere too? As if in answer to the unspoken question, Solo's hand tightened in his. Friend or foe? Rescue or capture? 

Hope.

 

Chapter 4: Napoleon - continued

Chapter Text

The darkness was no match for the beam of light that chased it away without mercy. It was painfully bright now, but to cover his eyes would mean letting go of Illya, and Napoleon wasn't prepared to do that. Not yet. Not until he was certain they were both safe.

The pressure on his back eased but he still couldn't raise himself. Why? And why had the pain been replaced by a strange numbness? Why was everything still so silent? A feeling of unreality threatened to overwhelm him. He clung to the only thing that felt real, Illya's hand. 

Trust. 

 

 

Chapter 5: Both

Chapter Text

Booted feet appeared in Illya's line of vision, silently walking through the debris towards him. Gentle hands severed his precious link with Napoleon and he was lifted onto a gurney and wheeled into an ambulance. 

Bereft

Without the link with Illya, Napoleon's sense of unreality deepened. His thoughts fled, leaving behind only sensations. The pain across his shoulders contrasted with numbness lower down. High pitched ringing in his ears replaced the eerie silence. Harsh light lanced across his face, hurting his eyes. He felt cold... so very cold. The debris shifted. Something slid under him. The light faded away.

Nothingness

Chapter 6: Both - Continued.

Chapter Text

Sickening waves of dizziness assailed Illya. Only anxiety about Napoleon kept him conscious. Why was it taking so long to rescue him? He closed his eyes.

When he opened them Napoleon was beside him, bruised, battered and oh, so vulnerable. 

Fear

Awareness returned to Napoleon. Illya was by his side, filthy, dishevelled... alive, concern in his blue eyes. 

The doctor's 'thumbs-up' encompassed them both, his smile a promise they'd be ok.

They reached out for one another. Wanting to connect... needing to connect. Their hands touched, gripped one another and held on tight. Clinging to life and each other. 

Safe