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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
Completed:
2010-09-07
Words:
20,236
Chapters:
15/15
Kudos:
23
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6,438

Missing

Summary:

Illya comes back after a successful mission. Everything goes well, until Alexander Waverly speaks.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Notes:

Fandom: MFU
Characters: Illya/Waverly
Rating: K+
Prompt: missing
Disclaimer: MFU doesn't belong to me, no money made with this.

Chapter Text


Missing
by svetlanacat4

 

To die and part is a less evil; but to part and live, there, there is the torment.  ~George Lansdowne

 
Uncle agents rarely wandered through the streets in the daytime unless they looked for somebody or tailed him. Illya Kuryakin paused on the sidewalk, his back to Del Floria's, lost in thought. He loosened his tie, looked up at the sky and took some steps forward.

-You should go for a stroll, Mr. Kuryakin. It's no use you staying there today. We'll have to talk about the future, tomorrow.

It had been hardly a suggestion.

The Old Man was obviously ill at ease, as the Russian seated himself in his office.

He had commented on his report, as usual, had asked about one or two points, as usual, and eventually had closed the file. Illya Kuryakin had fulfilled his assignment, the mission had been a success. As he spoke, Alexander Waverly had stared at his desk, at his pipe, at the sheets of paper. Occasionally, his gaze had met the blond agent's. Instantaneously, he had averted his eyes.

Then, a heavy silence.

Alexander Waverly hadn't dismissed him, neither with words, nor with a gesture. He hadn't either buried himself in the reading of another file, making it clear to anyone that the discussion was closed.

Illya Kuryakin had felt uncomfortable. Everybody had acted normally, except for the Old Man.

He knew so well the receptionist's sorry look, the sadly compassionate smiles; that led always to bad news: a partner in trouble, a partner seriously injured, a partner dying. The receptionist in charge had greeted him quite warmly, as usual. Everything had gone well until he had entered Waverly's office.

Finally, Illya Kuryakin had stood up, as if he was about to leave.

-Please, sit down, Mr Kuryakin.

The Russian had obeyed. This time, Alexander Waverly had looked at him. And he had uttered those astounding words.

-I am thinking of changes, concerning Section 2, Mr Kuryakin.

Changes? What changes? Illya Kuryakin had just opened his mouth, but the Old Man had shaken his head.

-As the Section 2, number 2, you are...

The Russian had frozen.

-You are Mr Solo's designate successor. Unless you refuse, from now, you are our new CEA, Section 2, number 1.

-Na..Napoleon? Sir?

He had babbled. Alexander Waverly had looked at him with concern.

-Mr Solo, Mr Kuryakin, is fine. He went back from his assignment eight days ago. He is officially on leave. But...

It had cost Illya Kuryakin a great effort not to leap at his superior's throat. Alexander Waverly had obviously noticed his agent's tension. He had sighed, stood up, and come up to him. Napoleon had decided to leave the Uncle. He had resigned, five days ago, and he was gone.

-Nobody knows, Mr Kuryakin. I wanted you to be told about, first.

-Why? I have to talk with him! I...

-You won't. Mr Solo is gone. He has left New-York, and we'll have to respect his wishes. He made his position clear. He doesn't want to hear of Uncle anymore. You asked why? I can't tell you. I am sorry.

Alexander Waverly had put his hand on the Russian's shoulder.

-You should go for a stroll, Mr. Kuryakin. It's no use you staying there today. We'll have to talk about the future, tomorrow.

He walked aimlessly. His partner was missing. He wasn't in trouble. He wasn't injured. He wasn't even dead. He was gone, simply gone.

Napoleon had left the Uncle. He had left New-York. Not a word.

Why? "I can't tell you." Alexander Waverly's words.

Why?

Missing.