Illya woke to the sound of the light tapping of rain against a window pane, his eyes were drawn to it; silhouetted in the light was the familiar outline of his partner.
He tried to speak, but the only sound he made was a hoarse croak.
Solo turned, smiling at him. "About time you woke up you lazy bum."
He fed his partner ice chips until he was able to speak, but barely in a whisper.
"How many were lost?"
"A dozen or so." He lowered his head.
"Them?"
"Yes."
Illya closed his eyes, going back to an uneasy sleep.
