Safekeeping
Tags: Alternate Universe - Magic, Established Relationship, Introspection, Napoleon Solo Is Bad At Feelings, Napoleon Solo Has Trust Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Illya Kuryakin, Hurt Gaby Teller, Polyamory, OT3
Notes: Helloooo, it's me, back again after ages LOL. Work has been eating away at my soul LOL. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, I figured I might as well start by editing and publishing some already finished stuff. Hopefully I will manage to get back into actually writing too. Enjoy!
.
Napoleon keeps his heart in a jar, safely tucked away in a pocket dimension only few could force open. It seemed like a sensible precaution, to tear out of his chest the only thing capable of killing him.
(Later, bound to an awful man by magic law, enslaved for years to come, he is all the more grateful for the insurance that he will, one way or another, walk away from this on his own two feet.)
He tells Illya and Gaby less than a year after Istanbul, when they coax him into a kiss and Gaby frowns as she lays a hand on his chest and feels nothing. She is more sensitive to vibrations than anyone else, and he can see the calculations in her eyes, the way she’s trying to match the stillness in his chest with the calmness of the emotions inside him.
(Illya, she told him once as they shared a late night drink and whispered lazy confessions, is never quiet, never still. Everything in him is constantly so much that she recoiled from his touch at first, rattled and overwhelmed. Now, she isn’t sure she could live without feeling the way he cares.)
“It’s not what you think,” Napoleon says, one hand raised in mock surrender and the other playing with Illya’s sleeve, because it’s the closest thing to clinging he will allow himself. Even without being able to feel his emotions the way Gaby can, the confusion radiates off Illya.
(“What am I like?” Napoleon asked once, curious and not in small part frightened. Empty, he was afraid she would say. It wouldn’t be an inaccurate assessment.
“Steady,” she said instead, leaning against his side.
Something fluttered in the empty cavity in his chest.)
“Oh really?” Gaby mocks, her eyes hardening. He can see the betrayal dawning on her, and he can only imagine that she’s thinking he’s some undead creature, smartly hiding his nature from them until he could feed on them.
“Really,” Napoleon says, as warmly as he can manage. Without a heart, emotions are supposed to be muted, present of course, but somewhat distant. He wonders what his fear would feel like then, since it’s eating away at his stomach now.
Under their unwavering gaze, he tells the truth.
(“I don’t understand,” Illya says later, when Gaby is asleep, tucked under his arm, and Napoleon’s head rests on his shoulder.
Napoleon snorts, and it’s just as fond as it is scared. “I know you don’t, Peril.” He can’t imagine Illya choosing to carry his heart anywhere other than on his sleeve. “It’s just for protection.”
“But you are safe now,” comes the answer, so genuine and almost hurt.
Napoleon smiles. “I know,” he says, and he means it. Yet, he does nothing but keep lying there.)
[More on Ao3]
