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What on earth are you doing, Solo?

He wondered as the window of his truck went down, letting all the water in. The water he'd just escaped, to find the perfectly placed truck Agent Jones had left with the food, and the paper and a bunch of functional wheels that could take him back to the hotel in any moment, where he'd tell the others that sadly they had lost the Russian, but hey, they still had Gaby and a new clue (that piece of metal from Vinciguerra's vault) and the show must go on.

But no, instead of doing that, he'd gone back to the water, wrecked his transportation and main escape plan, and was currently swimming underwater, surrounded by snipers and armed guards and all kinds of dangerous men. And all to try and retrieve a man he hardly knew, a man that, for all that he knew could be already irreparably dead, a RUSSIAN, for god's sakes, and he was giving away his comfort and safety on the sliver of a chance that he could save this man.

Maybe he was getting soft after all those years, maybe he had more of a heart than he thought. And not only that - he kind of admired Peril. Very few people could lived through what he'd been (and Solo only knew parts of the story) and turn out as whole as he was. Used his strength for what he thought was good, for a noble cause. Kuryakin had a kind of strength that was truly admirable. And yet, beneath all that there was a ghost of a kind, loving man who no one had managed to break. Maybe he was just too interesting to die like that, to die so soon.

Maybe it had been that damned song.

(vorrei tenerti qui vicino a me, adesso che fra noi non c'e' piu' nulla, vorrei sentire ancor le tue parole, quelle parole che non sento piu'. il mondo intorno non esisteva, per la felicita' che tu mi davi, che me ne faccio ormai, di tutti i giorni miei, se nei miei giorni, non ci sei piu' tu)

A song about wanting somebody back, a song about how everything was great when they were there and how he wanted this person back. A fucking love song, why are you so damn sugestionable, Solo? He couldn't help it. The world had sent him that song to make him realise how much he would regret it if he didn't get Peril back, that he would lose a great partner, that he wanted to be with that partner (vorrei tenerte qui vicino a me).

And now the truck was behind him, completely underwater, sinking, sinking, and he was moving through the icy waters to the still form of Kuryakin. (Please don't let him dead, please don't let it be too late, don't let the seconds I spent doubting be the nails on his coffin) Napoleon took with him the incredible dead weight that was the Russian and went to the surface.

But the fresh air had no effect on the limp russian, who was still, who had drowned on that water while he dined, if he let go of him now he would fall to the water again and die, be dead, remain dead, so Napoleon tried to revive him using all the strength that he had left (I work better alone, he had said, but now he wishes he didn't have to lose the Russian) and it didn't work. But Peril was tougher than this, he had to be (cazzo, non voglio perderti) and so he tried again and this time he was succesful.

And they were still on enemy territory, absolutely wet and surrounded, and Illya had made an awful noise coming back to life and they didn't have the truck anymore, but it was somehow okay (la felicita' che tu mi davi) and Napoleon felt good, felt at ease in the middle of hell for a moment before guiding both of them to land and focusing completely on the mission. (Tu sei qui, vicino a me)

What on earth are you doing, Solo?

The right thing, for once - I'm saving a great man. Maybe even a friend.

Voglio salvarti stasera.