To start off this little collection, how about one of everyone's favorite scenes?

Napoleon Solo could say with absolute certainty that he had never been in more pain in his life. His nerves were on fire. He was flying apart. He knew nothing beyond pain, white hot and all-consuming. Then, as abruptly as it began, the blinding agony abated into a lesser, albeit still terrible, ache. As he gasped for each shallow breath, Solo became dimly aware of something warm trickling over his mouth, leaving a vile metallic taste on his tongue. Somewhere in the background, Rudi was droning on about his 'art'. Solo barely heard him. In fact, his entire attention was focused on the guard swaying almost drunkenly outside the window. A moment later, the guard fell and another man stepped into his view. Solo instantly recognized the imposingly tall figure and, when he met his partner's gaze, he wasn't quite able to hide the desperation in his eyes. Illya stared back, his eyes blazing with dangerous light. He raised a single finger to his lips, nodded, then slipped out of sight. Solo let his head sag back into the chair and returned his attention to Rudi. When the man pressed his foot to the pedal again, Solo tensed, preparing for the shock of pain he knew would accompany it, but it never came. He silently thanked God for old wiring. Still, his stomach clenched uncomfortably as Rudi suggested using pliers next. He had seen the pictures in the doctor's sadistic scrapbook and he knew what Rudi could do with just a pair of pliers. He could feel the fear rising in him again, but it died he saw Illya slip into the room and come up behind Rudi. Relief coursed through him and he closed his eyes.

"I never thought I'd say this," Solo said breathlessly, "but I'm actually quite pleased to see you."

"You doing okay, Cowboy?" Illya asked, brow furrowed in concern. Rudi cowered beneath him. Too exhausted to speak again, Solo simply nodded and slumped as much as his restraints would allow and all but passed out. Illya's frown deepened.

"Cowboy?" he asked. His hands began to twitch as he received no reply. Within a minute, the Russian agent had efficiently bound and gagged the little scientist and was rushing to his partner's side.

"You with me?" he asked softly, two fingers pressing gently into the other agent's throat. The pulse the beat against his fingers was not at all reassuring. It was erratic and entirely too fast and Solo's breathing had become worryingly shallow. "Solo?" he tried again. "Can you hear me?" Solo wrinkled his nose slightly, but gave no other indication of awareness. Torn between shaking the man until he answered and carrying him to the nearest hospital, Illya settled on first freeing his partner from the chair. He made quick work of the straps. As he worked, he noticed how pale Solo had become, contrasting sharply with the bright red blood trickling from his nose. Carefully, he used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe away the worst of it. Solo groaned and shifted beneath his touch, his breathing speeding up.

"Easy, Cowboy. You're safe now." Illya soothed. Solo's eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus on the face above.

"P-peril?" he asked uncertainly. Illya flashed a rare smile that almost masked the anger in his eyes.

"The one and only." He said drily. "Are you with me now?"

"I…I think so?" Solo replied, attempting to raise himself up on shaky arms.

"Not so fast, Cowboy. I'm not sure you are ready to be doing that just yet." Illya cautioned.

"We c-can't stay here." Solo countered. Illya frowned, knowing that the American was right.

"Go slow. Can't stress your heart anymore." He warned. Slowly, he helped Solo stand on unsteady legs. Once fully upright, Solo swayed and staggered before Illya grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

"'m okay." He mumbled in answer to Illya's worried stare. "Just need the room t' stop movin' an' I'll right as rain."

"Somehow, that does not reassure me." Illya gently guided Solo to the wall and leaned him up against it. He waited a few minutes as the American agent gradually regained a fraction of his composure. Although still weak and trembling, Solo looked a good deal better than he had earlier. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself off from the wall and stood on his own. Looking up at Illya, he jerked his head toward where Rudi sat.

"What now?"

M

F

U

In the end, the mission had been a success. They had stopped Victoria, ended a nuclear threat, and even somehow managed to find peace between a Russian KGB agent and an American CIA agent. All in all, things had ended surprisingly well. Except…

There was that persistent flutter in Solo's chest that just wouldn't go away. Thus far, he had just been ignoring it. Earlier, he'd been in the thick of it and that was no time to address something so mundane. Now, they had just gotten the news that they were a team. Everyone was in high spirits and they were all having a nice drink. Illya looked far more relaxed than Solo had ever seen him. Gaby was laughing at their ridiculous new name. He couldn't ruin that. But damn if his body would allow him that. As he sipped from his glass, he surreptitiously leaned against the wall and tried to hide the wave of dizziness that had overtaken him. His heart was beating so fast in his chest that he was sure it was going to burst.

"Cowboy?" Solo glanced up to see both Illy and Gaby staring at him expectantly and he realized that this had not been the first time they'd called his name.

"What?" he asked without any of his usual eloquence. Illya frowned.

"You feeling alright? You've been unusually quiet."

"Is your head bothering you?" Gaby asked, reaching up to gently glide her fingers over the darkening bruise at his temple, a souvenir from Alexander Vinciguerra.

"No…I umm…I'm fine." Solo managed to say, closing his eyes and fighting off another wave of lightheadedness. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the railing tightly. He opened his eyes to see Illya at his side, placing a hand on his arm. Gaby took the whiskey out of his shaking hand.

"Solo?" Gaby asked, concern filling her words."

"Come, sit down." Illya urged gently. "You are clearly not well." Solo half-heartedly attempted to shake him off.

"Really, I'm okay. I just –" he abruptly broke off as a sharp pain lanced through his chest. Solo felt his knees buckle as his vision whited out.

"Cowboy!" Illya's voice drifted above the roaring in his ears. He felt himself being lowered onto something, but he was too out of it to really understand what was happening.

"What's wrong with him?" Gaby's voice, small and scared, asked.

"Cowboy? Cowboy…Napoleon." At the sound of his name, Solo roused. Blearily, he blinked open his eyes to reveal two very concerned faces hovering over him.

"Napoleon, can you hear us?" Illya asked. He was crouched down next to him, one hand on Solo's cheek.

"I…what? Wha's goin' on?" Solo slurred. Illya and Gaby exchanged a worried glance.

"You collapsed." Gaby explained gently, pushing a stray lock of hair from his face. "Please, tell us what's wrong. Is it your head? I saw you get hit earlier."

"No…I…" Solo tried to explain, but it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

"Slow your breathing, Cowboy." Illya instructed. He placed a hand on Solo's chest and immediately the problem became apparent. He could feel the American's pulse racing beneath his hand. "Your heart? Is that what is wrong?" he asked. Solo nodded weakly. Gaby looked to both of them questioningly.

"What? What is wrong with his heart?" she demanded.

"Parting gift from Uncle Rudi." Illya spat bitterly. Gaby looked horrified at the mention of the man.

"What do we do?" she asked.

"He needs a doctor. I'll get him inside, you call Waverly." Gabby nodded and ran to the phone. Gently, Illya lifted Solo and carried him to the couch.

"Stay with me, Cowboy."

"Not…goin' anywhere." Solo wheezed.

"Shhhh, do not try to talk. Just breathe with me, yes? Slowly. In and out…In and out." Illya coached.

"I c-can't…" Solo gasped as another flash of pain gripped his chest. Black spots danced across his vision.

"Gaby!" Illya called.

"Waverly says he'll have a medic here in ten minutes. Can he last that long?" she replied, hanging up the phone and running to join them. Solo had fallen completely unconscious by that point.

"He has too."

M

F

U

"Ah, he's awake."

Solo blinked as the world came back into focus. He was lying on a bed in a very white room that smelled overwhelmingly of antiseptic. In his arm, he could feel the pressure of an IV needle. Slowly, he rolled his head to the side to see Illya half-smiling down at him. To his right, Gaby was curled up in a chair, sleeping.

"Peril." He greeted groggily.

"Delayed tachycardial arrhythmia." Illya said without preamble. "Do you know what that is?"

"I'm assuming it's what landed me here." Solo replied.

"It is the unnatural, too-fast beating of the heart following electrocution. In some cases, it is lethal. You, Cowboy, are very lucky." Solo frowned in confusion.

"You'll have to fill in some blanks, here, Peril. I'm not sure I follow." Illya sighed.

"You remember Waverly making us a team, yes?" Solo nodded. "Not long after that, you began acting oddly and you soon collapsed. We brought you to this hospital where you are currently being treated for some of the…unpleasant side effects of your time with Uncle Rudi. The doctors have assured us that you will make a full recovery given time." Illya finished, giving Solo's shoulder a light squeeze. Solo took a deep breath.

"I remember feeling like I couldn't breathe, but not much aside from that."

"I am not surprised. You were not exactly with it. But you are better now?" Illya asked.

"Much. I…thank you. Really, Peril. I-"

"You're welcome, Cowboy." Illya said, cutting him off. "But, let's not make this a habit." Solo smiled.

"I suppose I can do that."

There. I hope you enjoyed it! Send me your prompts!