It had been a long night and both men were nearly exhausted. Their escape from the T.H.R.U.S.H. chamber of torture was harrowing and as they made their way through the surrounding forest it began to rain.
"Great, we need this like a hole in the head don't we?" Napoleon swore under his breath.
"That is an odd saying,"Illya whispered."When would one ever need a hole in the head? I suppose it could be in reference to being shot in the head...appropo to our current circumstances," He was thinking too literally again, but his partner ignored the Russian for once. Napoleon was too tired to engage him in any sort explanation. This one would just have to be put off to another time more conducive to discussion...that was if they lived to continue the conversation.
They had just literally stumbled upon a path, most likely an old hunting trail, with Napoleon staggering but catching himself against a wizend tree as the ground was becoming slippery. There was the normal debris and fallen leaves, making footing awkward. They decided to follow the trail in hopes it would lead them to safety through the dense forest and away from their pursors, who by this time had discovered their escape.
Napoleon was just ahead of his partner, though Illya could barely make out Solo's figure in a heavy mist that had rolled in out of nowhere.
Illya tripped on a gnarled root sticking up from the ground and lost his footing, suddenly losing his bearings as he hiked himself up to his hands and knees.
"Napoleon?" He called out, though not too loudly."Napoleon where are you?"
That was when he heard it, a low muffled growl, then another and another. It was a sound Illya Kuryakin was all too familiar with; wolves.
They elicited a primal fear in him that he tried to swallow as he got to his feet, backing himself against a large tree; they seemed to be closing in on him from every direction. He counted four, maybe five.
He was suddenly assaulted by a childhood memory, one of his first hunting trip with his father Nicholaí.
Illya was only seven as he crept through the forest of Bykivnia, taking aim with a rifle that was still too large for him to handle, yet his papa encouraged him to aim it at the hind that was now within their sights. The family needed food, but more importantly the boy needed to learn to shoot...with the impending war with Germany; Nicholaí feared for his young family and sought to teach Illya to defend them and himself.
When he was off with the partisans, the boy would have to hunt for them and help defend him mother, baba and younger siblings; a tall order for a young skinny little boy…
Nicholaí knew that his Illuysha was smart, very smart and was capable of doing what was needed to survive.
With his father's help, Illya made the kill, and as he was praised for it, yet the little blond boy was instructed to give thanks to the deer for having sacrificed it's life so their family might eat.
There was a rustle in the brush, and a wolf dove straight at the child, as hunger had driven it to desperation. Nicholaí Kuryakin shot the beast in mid-air and it landed at the boys feet, sending him into tears. *
Now Illya fought back that same fear...and knowing his father wasn't here to save him.
"Napoleon I need you!" He raised his voice, not caring who heard him at this point. There was only one gun between the two of them and Solo had it.
It was no use in running; the fog was blinding and either way, the pack of wolves would be on him in no time.
One of them appeared out of the mist, a huge one, its eyes intent on Kuryakin being its next meal. This no doubt was the Alpha male.
It took a tentative step closer, and another before it crouched, preparing to leap...a grey creature surrounded by whisps of grey mist. The only bit of color the Russian suddenly focused on was a single yellow flower on the ground in front of the beast...
Illya closed his eyes, turning his head to one side, waiting for the wolf to pounce. It was no use trying to fight; he had no weapon and there were too many of them.
Still, something made him look, catching a view of the wolf just as it leapt into the air. Illya gasped... what was most likely be his final breath. It would be over quickly, at least that's what he hoped.
A shot rang out, just as it had when Illya was a child and the wolf dropped at his feet.
Another shot scattered the rest of the pack and they took off, yelping as they disappeared back to the cover of the fog.
"You okay tovarisch?" Napoleon called to him.
Illya let out muffled a sob, trying to control himself yet unable to do so completely; he fell to his knees violently shaking as he tried to hide his tears.
"Hey buddy, it's all right. I'm here." Napoleon wrapped a comforting arm around his friends soaking wet shoulders, not really understanding what was going on.
Illya was the Ice Prince, nothing ever made him waver.
Kuryakin quickly regained his composure. "Thank you, I am all right now. You could not have timed your arrival more perfectly...that, that was a good shot." He stuttered for a second while staring at the carcass of the wolf, barely visible where it laid on the ground.
"What happened Illya? I've never seen you get...upset like this?"
"Just an old memory from my childhood," he brushed it off now, getting back to business. "We must keep moving before those agents catch up with us. Your life-saving shots will have been heard by them, no doubt."
Just like that, Illya had turned cool and calm as if he'd flicked a switch.
Napoleon knew it would do no good asking anything more. As always, Illya's past was forbidden territory.
There was still trust between them and they had each others backs; that was the most important thing, Solo reminded himself as he and his partner disappeared together into the swirling mists.
.
* ref "The Hunting Party"