The med team hurriedly rushed the gurney down the hall, with Kuryakin racing behind. As he was lifted onto a bed, Illya found himself being pushed into a corner, while the doctor came over to examine his partner.

He had no sooner started the examination when Napoleon started to convulse again. Suddenly nurses were everywhere, the doctor was shouting orders and Illya found himself pushed outside the door.

He was still standing there staring at the door when Mr. Waverly arrived. "Mr. Kuryakin, what's the status on Mr. Solo?"

Before he could answer the doctor came wearily out the door. Both men looked to him as he slowly shook his head, "I'm sorry…"

Sorry? Illya was suddenly paralyzed with fear. He couldn't mean….no!

"You're sure?" Mr. Waverly requested, "What was the cause?"

"We won't know until the autopsy is performed. I'm afraid it will have to be later today."

Nodding Mr. Waverly turned to look at the younger man, started to say something and decided not to. With a deep sigh at the lose of his top agent he turned to go back to his office. Arrangements would have to be made.

Illya's mind was a complete blank he couldn't quite take it all in. The doctor had left along with his grief and he had had to lean against the wall for support. Slowly he slid down his knees drawn up and buried his face.

He was still in that position when Lisa Rogers arrived. Mr. Waverly had sent her to…she wasn't sure why, to comfort him perhaps? Stooping down to his level and placing a hand on him arm "Mr. Kuryakin, Illya, you need to go home. We'll call you once arrangements have been completed."

Illya looked up, his eyes stony. Just then a gurney was wheeled out of the room with a sheet covered body and a tag on one toe denoting time of death. Illya got up nodded to Lisa and followed the gurney down the hall.