Chapter 13

A/N double post. Don't forget to read chapter 12 first (-:

Illya enjoyed the first decent breakfast he'd had all week. He was fasting yesterday for theatre to have his radius bone manipulated back into place.

He'd ordered a full fried breakfast and enjoyed every bit of it. He even had orange juice, something he never usually bothers with.

"That looked good," Napoleon said as he entered the room.

"I think I ate it too fast," Illya smiled with a slight wince.

"Not surprising, you haven't eaten in days."

Illya's bruises had begun to fade already and his left wrist was now bound up in a stiff white cast.

"What happened there?" Napoleon pointed to a dressing on his neck just below his left ear.

"Oh it's nothing, he threatened to slit my throat and began cutting then just to show he meant business."

Napoleon winced.

"Who was he?"

"Name of Manfred Crow, I haven't heard of him have you?"

Napoleon shook his head.

Illya was about to speak again but stopped abruptly.

"What were you about to say, out with it Illya,"

Ilya looked back at him with troubled dark eyes.

"That's when I saw Emma, she tried to clean it up in fairness."

Napoleon nodded in silence. After a moment he spoke again.

"I've been wrong from the very beginning. I should have known you wouldn't do such a thing. I shouldn't have believed her so readily. It was very wrong of me to act out the way I did. I'm truly sorry Illya."

Illya nodded without meeting his gaze.

"Can we be friends again?" Napoleon asked.

Illya thought for a moment.

"I don't know," he said.

"With all respect Napoleon, this has made me see that I was a little too reliant on you. Well no, not just on you but on any person. We used to go out all the time and do things together. I came to depend on that."

"No man is an Island Illya,"

"Yes but you shouldn't depend on people too much either. Look what happened Napoleon. I had no control over that. That just happened. Before I met you I was happy enough in my apartment playing my guitar and learning new languages."

"You were miserable Illya, you never went out."

"I wasn't miserable. I knew where I stood, at least."

"I'll never let you down again."

"Look you've been a great friend and I'm grateful for all you've done for me."

"I wanted to do it," Napoleon muttered.

"But I want to stay by myself for a while. I've put in for a transfer back to the New York office. I think it's best."

Napoleon stared at him in silence for a good minute. That he didn't expect.

"There's a case in Switzerland Mr Waverly wants me to work on, it's a solo mission."

"You can't work a solo mission are you crazy. You've just been wounded."

"When I recover. It's just an escort job, nothing serious. I need a fresh start Napoleon."

"There's nothing I can say is there?" Napoleon asked.

"You've said it. You've apologised and I'm grateful for that but no, my mind is made up."

Napoleon got to his feet and paced a little in agitation.

"Damn it Illya, I have no control either. People fuck me over too. Women rightly fuck me over. You can't just run away and hope it never happens again. Shit happens Illya, you can't just live out the rest of your life avoiding people in case they let you down."

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"You can't go on a solo mission on your own Illya," he yelled. "And that's an end to it,"

Napoleon stared down at him, his face red with frustration.

"What are you smiling at," he asked eventually.

"I can't go on a solo mission on my own."

Napoleon began to smile too. "No you can't, the clue is in the name."

"Napoleon."

"What."

"Will you get me a hot dog for lunch?"

"With mustard?"

"And the little green things,"

"Anchovies," Napoleon nodded. "Well I'd like to oblige Illya but that is something only a partner can do for you."

"You're a swine," The younger agent grinned.

"A ruthless swine, partners or hospital food, your choice."

"That isn't even a choice, I hate tapioca pudding." Illya had to smile.

"And when you're better Illya I'm going to be putting in a request of my own with Mr Waverly."

"Oh...what's that?"

"We're going to be paying a little curtesy visit with Mr Manfred Crow."

The End.