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The Things we Remember - Epilogue.
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Disclaimer
This is a work of amature fiction, no contravention of copyright is intended and no profit is made from this endeavour.
How many?
Strange the very first words you spoke, was How many? Could have meant anything really. How many days have I been here? How many people attacked you? How long had I been by your bedside? How many orders did I break? How many more days before you got out? All of which would have been perfectly acceptable. But dushka, you know me too well. Your question was formed because of the look in my eyes, the stoop of my shoulder the pain and fatigue which only now do I realise was etched across my soul. The ache of defeat despite winning that is ever present. To win we must loose something and I lost part of myself. But you needed to know.
How many?
How many people died because of me? That was the question; the true question and I being the coward I am could do nothing but answer truthfully. I could never lie to you my friend. So how many people died because of you? Well technically none. If I admit to killing in anger then they win, if I admit that I killed with the vision of you in my mind then I have to also admit all the other things. That this was a deliberate act to hurt you personally. To harm me, using you as the weapon. And that is a weakness I will never admit to Illya. You are my strength, always have been. Even Waverly knows that, he will always use me how he thinks fit and you too my friend, but he would never jeopardise you. He knows what he will have to face if he does. And a psychotic senior agent one of our level, is a war he doesn’t want to start. He’s a shrewd old bird, so feed me piece by piece to the lions if you want, but you. He only ever puts you in that type of danger when he knows I can back you up and he’s counting on my anger.
He manipulates us, but we allow him. We do not allow THRUSH to trespass without sanction. So the dirty hands that touched you, that were part of the greater whole, died Illya. And in that dozens died. I really don’t remember a grenade into a satrap could kill one or a dozen. I don’t stay to rack up the body count. We have junior agents to do that. Full teams of accountants who tally the cost and we cannot see their faces Illya. The only face I can see is yours. So your question of how many remains unanswered because I cannot admit all the other pains that go with it. So the number is nil. No one died because of you. Many died because of a purge and their actions but none died because of you. If I keep saying it I might be able to believe it. The monster still lurks Illya, still seethes as he watches the pain flash across your expressive blue eyes.
Still wants to hurt. That what this is Illya, I still want to hurt them and keep hurting them till I can see you sleep through without the nightmares or the pain. See you not doubt, we can’t afford to doubt Illya.
Ah there it is. I’ve waited so long Illya, finally you smiled and it was for me. The bruises have faded, your skin looks better even still deceptively small in that bed but still whole and alive and you smiled.
“You’re watching me again Napoleon.”
“I’m sorry. Been a rough few weeks.”
“So rough that you lost yourself?”
“For a while I got caught up in the anger. You remember what I was like before we were partnered?”
“I remember, it was a dark time for you my friend.”
“I revisited it.”
“Last time was after your wife died.”
“This time was seeing you here in hospital.”
“But I didn’t die.”
“I didn’t know you wouldn’t dushka.”
“You called me that before.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Being overtired.”
“Yes, you are go home and get some sleep, the doctors say I can go home tomorrow.”
It’s hard to leave you Illya. Every night you send me home after I come from the office, I wait usually till your asleep and then creep out. Or more often than not just stay until the nurse throws me out, and every night it gets harder. One more moment Illya, just one, please. Instead I see that look and you’re worried about me, about something but you haven’t said, won’t talk about what happened to you. And I won’t ask, I can’t. I stand to leave and feel your hand close around my wrist as you pull me down and whisper so softly.
“I have always loved you Napoleon.”
My heart breaks Illya, can you so much see the monster and reconcile him so easily? Perhaps I would be better served to leave you. To leave UNCLE make my way in the world, but I cannot doubt the sweet fire that races through me as I bend down to finally take your lips.
Breath stills, heart pounds but my mind just slips and finally I can admit it. I’m tired Illya, really tired and tonight I will sleep, I promise my love, body and soul I promise to be whole for you tomorrow and every other one that you say yes too.
It’s a kiss. A simple kiss, nothing more and in that moment I have felt more than I did in an eternity before that.
And suddenly I see you smile at me again and the beast Illya, the one that I’ve run from, purrs.
Finis.
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