TITLE: Rescue me
Chapter 03
AUTHOR: Ceindreadh
EMAIL: ceindreadh@eircom.net
CATEGORY: drama/angst/gen
WARNING: none
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: none
DISCLAIMER: They're not mine, I'm just borrowing them and I'll return them to Norman Felton and Warner Bros when I've finished with them
Thanks to FatCat and Kelly for Betaing this for me.
Part 03/07
Napoleon squinted painfully but he couldn't make out who the fireman was carrying...he was barely able to tell that it was a person. "It has to be Illya," he told himself. "There was nobody else in the building." But what about the person who had set the fire, a little voice asked him. What if it was them being rescued and Illya was there dead or dying from smoke and flames. Napoleon put the thought resolutely out of his mind as he watched the fireman make his way down the ladder, willing him to hurry.
The fireman reached the bottom of the ladder...his burden hardly seeming to slow him down. Napoleon wanted to move towards him...to see if it was indeed his friend that had been snatched from the flames, but even as he took a step forward, he could hear a horrendous creaking coming from the burning building and his eye was drawn to the window from which the fireman had emerged...and which was now totally obscured by smoke and flames. If there had been anybody left in the building, they were surely now dead.
"Go on there now boyo," said Clancy, gently. "If it's your friend then he'll be wanting to see you."
The fireman had carried his charge over to the ambulance, which had joined the scene and Napoleon joined them there. A wave of his U.N.C.L.E. ID swept aside any objections to his passage...or maybe it was the look of determination on his face...mingled with a touch of fear at what he might find. He knew how badly he had been affected by only a few short minutes inside the blaze, and Illya had been trapped inside for much much longer. A part of Napoleon was afraid to look...afraid to see how badly maimed his friend could be...another part of him was afraid that it wouldn't be Illya...that his partner was still trapped in the flames, waiting for help that could no longer come. Steeling himself for the inevitable, Napoleon took a good look inside the ambulance.
At first all he could see was a small figure blackened from the smoke, lying on a stretcher. An oxygen mask was obscuring the soot-stained face and the hair was so grimy that only a few strands of blond shone through. But Napoleon had always been able to see through Illya's disguises and he sagged against the ambulance door, watching as the medics tried to revive his friend.
Finally after what seemed like an eternity, the medic straightened up and announced, "I've got a pulse. Let's get moving." Seeing Napoleon he said, "Sir, you'll have to move aside, we need to get this man to the hospital immediately."
"I'm coming with him," said Napoleon, hoarsely. "He's a friend of mine." He coughed again, his lungs wheezing in protest.
The medic took a closer look at Napoleon in his smoke blackened suit. "Were you inside the building during the fire?"
Napoleon nodded as another spasm of coughing overtook him. He could feel the ground swaying under his feet as he clutched the door of the ambulance for support. "Won't...won't leave him again," he gasped.
"Okay," said the medic reassuringly. "You probably should get yourself checked out as well. Sounds like you took in a few lungfuls of smoke yourself."
Napoleon allowed the medic to help him into the ambulance and place an oxygen mask over his face. "Just breathe normally," he was told, "We'll be at the hospital in a few minutes."
Napoleon glanced out the ambulance door, wondering where Clancy had disappeared to. He thought he saw the blue uniform keeping the crowd back from the flames, but then the ambulance doors cut off the outside world leaving him alone with Illya and the medic.
"Will he...is he going to be all right?" asked Napoleon, his voice hoarse.
The medic was adjusting the I.V. line and it was a few seconds before he replied, "He's taken in a lot of smoke...wasn't breathing when they carried him out." He saw the look of horror on Napoleon's face and added quickly, "Don't worry, we got him back quick enough."
Napoleon reached out his hand to Illya's, which was clenched tightly in a fist as it lay on the stretcher beside him. He could see that there was something held firmly in his grasp, and with a gasp of shock, Napoleon realized that it was Illya's communicator. Had he been calling for help on it before being overcome by the smoke? Had he heard Napoleon's attempts to contact him but been unable to respond? Or had he lost consciousness wondering just why his partner hadn't been there when he had needed him.
Napoleon's vision blurred, but it wasn't caused by irritation from the smoke.
---------------------
Chapter 03
AUTHOR: Ceindreadh
EMAIL: ceindreadh@eircom.net
CATEGORY: drama/angst/gen
WARNING: none
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: none
DISCLAIMER: They're not mine, I'm just borrowing them and I'll return them to Norman Felton and Warner Bros when I've finished with them
Thanks to FatCat and Kelly for Betaing this for me.
Part 03/07
Napoleon squinted painfully but he couldn't make out who the fireman was carrying...he was barely able to tell that it was a person. "It has to be Illya," he told himself. "There was nobody else in the building." But what about the person who had set the fire, a little voice asked him. What if it was them being rescued and Illya was there dead or dying from smoke and flames. Napoleon put the thought resolutely out of his mind as he watched the fireman make his way down the ladder, willing him to hurry.
The fireman reached the bottom of the ladder...his burden hardly seeming to slow him down. Napoleon wanted to move towards him...to see if it was indeed his friend that had been snatched from the flames, but even as he took a step forward, he could hear a horrendous creaking coming from the burning building and his eye was drawn to the window from which the fireman had emerged...and which was now totally obscured by smoke and flames. If there had been anybody left in the building, they were surely now dead.
"Go on there now boyo," said Clancy, gently. "If it's your friend then he'll be wanting to see you."
The fireman had carried his charge over to the ambulance, which had joined the scene and Napoleon joined them there. A wave of his U.N.C.L.E. ID swept aside any objections to his passage...or maybe it was the look of determination on his face...mingled with a touch of fear at what he might find. He knew how badly he had been affected by only a few short minutes inside the blaze, and Illya had been trapped inside for much much longer. A part of Napoleon was afraid to look...afraid to see how badly maimed his friend could be...another part of him was afraid that it wouldn't be Illya...that his partner was still trapped in the flames, waiting for help that could no longer come. Steeling himself for the inevitable, Napoleon took a good look inside the ambulance.
At first all he could see was a small figure blackened from the smoke, lying on a stretcher. An oxygen mask was obscuring the soot-stained face and the hair was so grimy that only a few strands of blond shone through. But Napoleon had always been able to see through Illya's disguises and he sagged against the ambulance door, watching as the medics tried to revive his friend.
Finally after what seemed like an eternity, the medic straightened up and announced, "I've got a pulse. Let's get moving." Seeing Napoleon he said, "Sir, you'll have to move aside, we need to get this man to the hospital immediately."
"I'm coming with him," said Napoleon, hoarsely. "He's a friend of mine." He coughed again, his lungs wheezing in protest.
The medic took a closer look at Napoleon in his smoke blackened suit. "Were you inside the building during the fire?"
Napoleon nodded as another spasm of coughing overtook him. He could feel the ground swaying under his feet as he clutched the door of the ambulance for support. "Won't...won't leave him again," he gasped.
"Okay," said the medic reassuringly. "You probably should get yourself checked out as well. Sounds like you took in a few lungfuls of smoke yourself."
Napoleon allowed the medic to help him into the ambulance and place an oxygen mask over his face. "Just breathe normally," he was told, "We'll be at the hospital in a few minutes."
Napoleon glanced out the ambulance door, wondering where Clancy had disappeared to. He thought he saw the blue uniform keeping the crowd back from the flames, but then the ambulance doors cut off the outside world leaving him alone with Illya and the medic.
"Will he...is he going to be all right?" asked Napoleon, his voice hoarse.
The medic was adjusting the I.V. line and it was a few seconds before he replied, "He's taken in a lot of smoke...wasn't breathing when they carried him out." He saw the look of horror on Napoleon's face and added quickly, "Don't worry, we got him back quick enough."
Napoleon reached out his hand to Illya's, which was clenched tightly in a fist as it lay on the stretcher beside him. He could see that there was something held firmly in his grasp, and with a gasp of shock, Napoleon realized that it was Illya's communicator. Had he been calling for help on it before being overcome by the smoke? Had he heard Napoleon's attempts to contact him but been unable to respond? Or had he lost consciousness wondering just why his partner hadn't been there when he had needed him.
Napoleon's vision blurred, but it wasn't caused by irritation from the smoke.
---------------------
