Thanks for the reviews on chapter 9! Here is the final chapter of this story, as always I hope you'll like it :)

edit: there might be a small bonus chapter after this one :)

Unknown location, Illya's p.o.v.

He opens his eyes. White walls, and he knows he doesn't want to be here. He's not alone. Cowboy is here too, he's conscious this time. His wrists are cuffed to a pipe above his head and his mouth is taped shut.

It wasn't like this…

Solo's eyes are wide with fear and he can see his bare chest rising and falling rapidly. Cowboy is scared. He puts his hand on his partner's shoulder in a reassuring gesture and suddenly there is a knife in his hand. Solo flinches and Illya knows he really doesn't want to be here. He tries to let go of the knife but it feels like it's glued to his hand. His arm moves and he has no control over it. The tip of the blade is now resting against Solo's skin. He pushes the knife in, deep.

That's not what happened…

He slowly makes a long incision in his partner's body. It's easy, like cutting butter, and he feels sick. Cowboy doesn't scream. Simply looks at him, his eyes so wide open that it seems his eyelids will tear at the corners. Illya can feel his body trembling under the palm of his free hand. He looks down at the incision and his hand is inside the wound. He panics. He wants to pull his hand out but he has no control over his body. His hand starts moving around inside his partner's chest cavity and now there is screaming. So much screaming and the tape does little to muffle it. He just wants to make it end quickly now but he can't find his heart. He knows it has to be in there somewhere but he can't concentrate with all the screaming. He closes his eyes. He opens them again and the screaming has stopped. He knows there's something in his hand and he doesn't want to look down.

No, please, it's not what happened…

His gaze shifts down slowly and he is holding his partner's heart in his hand. And, absurdly, it's still beating. Horror and disgust overwhelm him and he knows he is going to be sick. Suddenly a hand closes around his wrist. Cowboy is no longer cuffed to the pipe. He plucks the heart from his hand and Illya watches in horror as his partner desperately attempts to push his own heart back into his body through the gaping wound.

No…you should be dead…I'm sorry…

He wants to stand up and run away from the grotesque scene. But he can't move. He wants to close his eyes to escape his partner's accusatory stare. But his eyes are already closed.

He opened his eyes.

"Are you okay?"

Gaby was watching him curiously from the other side of the backseat.

"You were mumbling in your sleep."

"I'm fine. Just tired."

Illya looked out the window of the car as he waited for his heartbeat to slow back down. He felt foolish for letting their captor get inside his head. Gaby's hand settled on his knee and he almost shied away from her touch.

"It's really late and Solo will be busy getting himself patched up. Maybe we should postpone the visit to the hospital until tomorrow and get some rest. We both need it.", she said, scooting over so that she could rest her head against his shoulder.

He agreed, trying to hide his relief. The last thing he wanted at that moment was to face his partner. Solo had been conscious, although not completely coherent, before they had taken him to the hospital, and Illya had done his best to avoid him. Gaby, who had talked to the medical team, had later listed to him his partner's confirmed and suspected injuries. Injuries he had inflicted. In addition to the various cuts, bruises and stab wounds, Solo apparently had at least one broken rib, moderate internal bleeding, and a concussion, no doubt from that last punch to the side of his head. At least, according to Gaby, the medics had sounded optimistic. They had been less sure about the other American agent who had been rushed to a different hospital, probably under the supervision of the CIA. They wanted to keep their man – and, more importantly, what he knew – safe. Illya sighed and looked down at Gaby. She still had her head against his shoulder and her regular breathing told him she had fallen asleep. Careful not to disturb her, he leaned his head back against the car seat but kept his eyes open. Soon, he started succumbing to the lulling motion of the car and as he felt himself drift off, he hoped for a dreamless sleep.

Solo's hospital room, the next day, Gaby's p.o.v.

"Come on, Illya! At this rate, Solo will be out of the hospital before we even get to his room."

Illya had been acting weird all day. Even during the meeting with Waverly that morning he had seemed exceptionally somber. And she had practically had to drag him along to the hospital to visit Solo.

"That's the room."

She knocked and pushed the door open without waiting for an answer, almost hitting Waverly, who had been standing on the other side, in the process.

"Ah, good, more company for you, Solo. Come in, come in. I was just about to leave. And for the love of God, quit sulking, Kuryakin, you look like a hitman in search of a new target. You're going to scare the nurses off and, from what I understand, Solo seems to greatly appreciate their company."

"To be honest, Sir, I think it would take more than that to keep them from flirting with Solo.", Gaby countered with a smile.

She saw Napoleon wink at her from across the room.

"Touché, Miss Teller. But don't get too used to this, Solo. Remember, I want you back at work on Monday!"

"He didn't say which Monday.", Napoleon said with a slight shrug after Waverly had closed the door behind him.

Gaby got closer to the bed. Illya didn't budge.

"Illya, we came here to visit Solo, not the coat rack at the far end of the room."

He reluctantly stepped closer and Gaby shrugged as Solo shot her a questioning look. She sat down on the edge of the bed and took a moment to study her partner. He still had a huge bump and impressive bruising on the side of his head and she could make out the shape of the thick bandages under his hospital gown, he looked tired and his hair was messy but apart from that he didn't look too bad, much better than she had expected actually.

"So, tell me, I'm dying to know, what happened while I was unconscious? Nothing too kinky I hope?"

Gaby shot a glance at Illya and he avoided her gaze. She hesitated for a second then decided to do Illya a favor and clear the air.

"Well, I guess it depends if your definition of kinky includes getting your heart ripped out by your own partner."

"Ouch. Well I'm certainly glad he didn't go through with it.", Solo answered, glancing furtively at Illya.

"It was a close call.", Gaby added, pointing at the bandage just below his ribcage.

"Hmm…I knew that wasn't there before I lost consciousness. Wait…that means you were actually going to rip out my heart, Peril?"

"I…I'm…"

Poor Illya looked and sounded like he'd rather be anywhere but here. Gaby chewed her lower lip nervously and looked alternately at her partners.

"Wow. So I suppose stabbing me wasn't enough?", Solo went on.

She shot him a look of disapproval but he ignored her.

What are you doing, Solo?..

"The thing is, I don't know if I can ever forgive you or trust you again."

"Solo, I…"

"You completely ruined my favorite shirt."

"I'm sorry, I…what?"

"All right, second favorite, but don't try to change the subject. Do you have any idea how much I paid for that shirt? I always knew you had poor taste in clothing, Peril, but honestly, I didn't think that you would go that far."

Napoleon's p.o.v.

Napoleon shot Gaby a rapid glance and saw that she was struggling to keep a straight face. He was finding it hard to remain serious himself. Illya looked like a deer caught in headlights. He stood completely frozen, staring at him with his mouth slightly open, visibly at a loss as to what to do or say. Napoleon could understand what was going on in his partner's mind and he knew that he would probably have felt the same way if their roles had been reversed so he was determined to make his partner understand – in his own way – that he wasn't blaming him for anything that had happened.

Let's see if we can put a smile on that big Russian face of yours…

"By the way, you didn't need to go through all that trouble, Peril. My heart was yours from the start.", he said, flashing his best cheeky smile. "Well maybe not from the very start.", he added, grimacing as he recalled his first encounter with the big Russian. "But close enough."

Now he's starting to get annoyed. He just needs one more little nudge…

"Oh well, I suppose that literally stealing your heart is a KGB agent's idea of a romantic gesture. I'd watch out if I were you, Gaby..."

There it is, the eye roll…And now, the coup de grâce…

"Honestly, Peril, I'm slightly upset that you thought I was going to blame you for all this. You know me better than that." He paused for effect. "I'm not heartl…"

"Stop right there, Cowboy, or I swear I'm going to finish the job."

"That's the spirit, Peril!"

The Russian finally seemed to realize that he and Gaby were looking at him expectantly and a hesitant, begrudging smile started to form on his lips.

Mission accomplished…

The tension in the room had abated noticeably and, although Napoleon could tell that his partner was still uneasy, the next fifteen minutes went by pleasantly enough with Gaby and Illya filling him in on what he had missed. Then Gaby got up from where she was perched on the edge of his bed and told them that she had to leave and that she would be back in a couple of hours.

"I won't be long, just a couple of hours at most. You can wait for me here, Illya."

From the Russian's attitude, it was obvious that he wanted nothing more than to follow her out of the room.

Don't even think about it, Peril. You're staying with me until there's not a trace of unjustified guilt left in your stubborn Russian mind…

Illya's p.o.v

"So, I take it you'll be keeping me company, Peril?"

He had been about to leave but Solo's question made his reaction seem inadequate. That was typical of Solo. The American had always had a knack for making him feel inadequate. He dragged a chair close to the bed and sat down. Then he looked up and met his partner's gaze. Solo had his trademark facial expression on. Eyebrows pulled together, creased forehead. It gave him an air of sophisticated seriousness which – for some reason Illya could not fathom – most of the women he met seemed to find irresistible. Illya suspected that his partner used that expression on purpose and secretly practiced it every day in front of the mirror. They stared at each other in silence for a few awkward seconds then Illya broke eye contact and Solo broke the silence.

"One thing I have always appreciated about you, Peril, is your innate talent for small talk. Would you mind handing me that glass of water? I would get it myself but I don't want to risk rupturing my stitches…"

Illya shot him a guilty glance, grabbed the glass from the bedside table and held it out to him. His partner made to take it but, as he was raising his arm, he suddenly gasped, his face twisting in pain. He let his arm drop back down and made an apologetic face.

"Sorry, Peril, but I think you're also going to have to help me drink. Even the slightest movement hurts."

Feeling even guiltier, Illya stood up and got closer to the head of the bed. He gently put a hand behind Solo's back to help him sit up straighter and brought the glass to his partner's lips, tipping it slightly, careful not to choke him with too much water.

"Thanks, Peril."

"It's the least I can do, after what happened."

They spent the following half hour talking about the scientist and reminiscing about past missions and Illya gradually began to relax. After a while they fell into a companionable silence until Solo declared that he was thirsty again…and easily reached for the glass on the bedside table, only grimacing slightly as he settled back against the pillows. Illya stared in disbelief as he lifted the glass to his lips with no apparent effort.

"You can drink without help…"

"Of course I can, Peril.", Solo answered, winking at him and flashing his trademark smile.

Illya tightened his lips and let the corners of his mouth curl down in an expression of ultimate annoyance.

"You're lucky you're injured…"

unknown location, Gaby's p.o.v.

Gaby silently followed the man through a small maze of corridors until he stopped in front of a door.

"We're here, Miss Teller. By the way, I hope you didn't mind the security check at the entrance, you know what it's like in our line of work. You just never know who can be trusted or not."

He gave her a weird smile and a few awkward seconds passed before he went on.

"Just ring when you're done and I'll escort you out."

She thanked the man and knocked on the door, smiling as she heard a familiar voice answer weakly.

"Hello, agent Marshall.", she said as she entered the room.

"Miss Teller? Hello…I…I wasn't expecting you.", the CIA agent answered, grimacing as he tried and failed to prop himself up higher in his hospital bed.

"Oh I won't be staying long, don't worry. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Gaby grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and sat down close to the side of the bed. She studied the agent's face for a second.

"You look…slightly better than you did last time I saw you."

"Thank you…I suppose."

She gave him a playful smile and he went on.

"I can't say I feel much better though. Especially after the visit from my boss earlier today. Getting shot in the leg almost seems pleasant in comparison."

"It was that bad?"

"No, actually it wasn't. I'm exaggerating. He was uncharacteristically sympathetic. I suspect my doctor showed him my X-rays to mollify him. Besides, the information I had gathered before my cover was blown and what they were able to retrieve from that scientist guy's lab were enough to please him. He's just bitter about having to share some of it with the MI6. "

Gaby gave an amused sigh.

Little boys don't like to share their toys…

"How do the ribs feel?"

"They hurt, but as long as I don't move, cough, sneeze, laugh or breathe, it's not too bad."

She smiled sympathetically.

"And the leg?"

"They said it should heal well but my days as an undercover field agent are over. At least for the next six months. How is Solo?"

"He's fine, he'll make a full recovery."

"Glad to hear that."

Her eyes fell on the hospital bracelet around the agent's wrist. He followed her gaze and flashed her his boyish grin.

"You like it? They had a toe ring version but I think this suits me better."

She turned his wrist slightly so that she could read the name scribbled on it.

"Marshall, A., A. Marshall. What does the "A" stand for? Wait, don't tell me, let me guess…"

To her surprise, the agent let out an exaggerated groan.

"Oh please, not you too!"

Gaby's face twisted in an apologetic grimace as she realized what he was referring to.

"Sorry."

He started laughing but the pain in his ribs rapidly dissuaded him.

"It's okay, as long as you don't shoot me every time you guess wrong."

"Don't worry that's not what I came here for.", she said, letting go of his wrist and squeezing his hand in a comforting gesture. "I wanted to thank you for risking your life to save me and my partners."

"Well, you're very welcome.", he answered, visibly embarrassed. "Speaking about your partners, I hope you didn't bring Kuryakin with you. I've seen what he's capable of and I wouldn't want him to walk in on us holding hands…"

Gaby felt her cheeks heat up.

"By the way", he went on. "Solo's right, you know. You two would be perfect together."

An image chose this inopportune moment to pop up in her mind. Blond hair, blue eyes, a small v-shaped scar. She was now blushing so hard that she wondered for a second if her face would ever revert back to its original color.

"Adrian.", she blurted out suddenly and she saw the agent raise a confused eyebrow. "Or Alan. Alan Marshall has a nice ring to it. Or Aloysius maybe…"

The agent stared at her as if he was trying to decide whether he should tease her some more or allow her to change the subject. After a few seconds and to Gaby's relief, he smiled and let her off the hook.

"Aloysius? Seriously?"

Solo's hospital room, Gaby's p.o.v. (two hours later)

As Gaby entered the room and saw her partners engaged in a game of chess, she thought to herself that if someone were to take a photograph at that precise moment, it would capture the relationship between the two men perfectly. Solo, looking tired but smug and Illya watching him with a look of extreme annoyance seasoned with a dash of concern.

She stepped into the picture.

"You cheat…"

"You simply got too used to playing against yourself, Peril. You've hit a plateau."

"I'm pretty sure that that pawn was already off the board…"

Napoleon winked at her and she smiled back.

"Care to join us, Gaby?"

"Only if I don't have to play."

"All right, you can just watch me win then."

She heard Illya mutter something under his breath and she shot Solo a questioning glance.

"What did he say?"

"It's Russian for crook, cheater and…I didn't catch the last one."

Illya gave him a pointed look and Gaby shook her head, the hint of a smile playing at the edges of her lips. Her partners would never change.

Unknown location

"Here are the files you requested, with everything my man was able to dig up on the agents. Marshall is the one who was working undercover for the CIA. We still don't know how he managed to infiltrate the organization."

"Well, it seems clear to me, we have that brilliant scientist you suggested we hire to thank for that. What about the other three?"

"Teller, Solo and Kuryakin. Apparently they're part of some international team working under the supervision of the MI6, the fruit of cooperation between the Americans, the British and the Russians. Teller is German, recruited by the British. Solo is CIA and Kuryakin was borrowed from the KGB."

"Interesting. What were they doing there?"

"Apparently, our employee had crossed paths with them before. It appears that they were responsible for his hmm…unusual appearance. My guess is that he simply wanted his revenge. The man had an obsessive nature, he had probably been planning this for quite some time."

"A fat lot of good it did him. See, that's why I never trusted the man with any sensitive information about the organization. I had a feeling he would make a mistake sooner or later, and with the CIA becoming increasingly inquisitive, we can't afford mistakes."

"It's a pity that his work was lost, though. He had made good progress on the project and now it's all in the hands of the CIA."

"That's regrettable, indeed, but we can always find a replacement and start over later. The important thing is that they can't use what they found to get to us."

"Are you going to…hmm… inform them of what happened?"

"I don't see the point in bothering them with such a minor incident. Unless you want to personally explain to them how a man you recommended let an undercover CIA agent get close to him, invited three MI6 agents into his secret lab and caused the shutdown of one of their scientific side-projects."

"No, Sir, I'd rather not. So what are we going to do about the agents? This incident seems to indicate that they shouldn't be underestimated. They might cause trouble in the future and I think it would be a mistake to let them live. Solo and Marshall are both recovering in the hospital. Killing them and making it look like an accident would be easy. Then we could pick off the other two…"

"No. Let them live. For now. The CIA is already investigating us and it won't be long before the MI6 follows suit, we don't want to draw more attention by murdering their agents."

"With all due respect, I still think we should at least eliminate Marshall. If you're worried about drawing attention, one death will be less suspicious than four and he is more isolated and vulnerable than the others. One of my men is at the hospital with him right now. I just have one call to make and he will be taken care of. Or, if we want to be on the safe side concerning what he knows, my man can torture it out of him first, just to make sure he didn't hear or see something that could jeopardize the organization."

"Like I said, I'm not too worried about what Marshall knows, besides, he has probably already passed the information on to his superiors so there's really no point in killing him now. We'll just make sure to keep tabs on him and the three other agents in the future. And we can always get rid of them later, once the dust has settled a bit."

"But, Sir…"

"You're not questioning my decisions, are you?"

"No, Sir. Of course not."

"Good. You almost had me fooled for a moment there. Remember no one is irreplaceable, not even me and certainly not you… Well, I think that concludes our little meeting, unless there's anything you would like to add?"

"…"

"I didn't think so. I'll contact you again soon."

The man's polite expression turned into a scowl as soon as his superior had left the room. His eyes settled on the telephone. One call to make. He hesitated for a couple of minutes then he lifted the receiver and started dialing.

End of chapter 10.

Let me know what you think :)

(and no one will ever know what the first name of the CIA agent actually is :) )