It’s been so long, God its been so long since I felt anything like this.  My hands hurt Illya, can you still hear me? Are you awake yet, its been a week and I won’t ask, Uncle Alex knows better than to tell me as well, if I believe that you’ll be well, I can do this.  Really I can do this, I’ve found the bastards that hurt you and I can make it better. I can’t ask if your alive, please forgive me, it’s not in me to know.  That vain glorious hope that resonates through my body as I trudge the darkness like a wraith, exacting my revenge with the calm deliberation of a man committed to my task and totally emotionally in control.  You’d know though wouldn’t you my Illya? You’d be able to see the things that Mark can’t. You’d see the fraying edges of my sanity unravel as I continue, you’d know the chill that is my constant companion, you’d feel the fear in me as I wait.

You know me better than God himself and still you have stood by me, guiding me back with soft words or dry humour, keeping me in line.  Perhaps that’s why Waverley teamed you with me in the first place. He knew you’d curb my base instincts, the primal alpha male urge to protect and serve. Did he know that you were what I needed, that somewhere in that which is you is the essence of everything I need to have and be.

My hands hurt Illya, Mark had to pull me back I couldn’t stop hitting them, the smug bastards.  They gloated and it got so cold I could barely breath, not the white-hot agony I feel when I can see you hurt but this, this was beyond my control.  They taunted me with what they had done to you. Oh God Illya, everything they hurt, they drugged you, gratefully Mr. Waverly has the chemical construction and he tells me the antidote will only be a matter of hours.  So I know your still alive, but to come back to what?

Rape is such a brutal word.  A brutal act no difference from man to woman, designed to hurt, betray and control.  And it has so many victims, not only you my friend. I knew, could smell it on you as you lay bandaged and pained.  Knew instinctively that the doctors wouldn’t tell me.  Couldn’t tell me, not my right to know, only your partner.  I need to be more Illya, and it could cost me everything. Could cost me you, but I need you to know Illya that nothing changes unless you want it to.  I’ll happily eat my heart out over you just so long as I can stay close,I’ll even dance at your wedding. Wishing to hell it was me, but as long as you’re safe and keep me close Illya that’s all I’ll ask.

The doctors have finished with me, seems I’m lucky, imagine my mirth, nothing broken, just bruised. Mark looks worried, he’s never seen me loose my control before, in fact I think you’re the only person who ever did and you were not afraid.  You knew on some cellular level that I couldn’t hurt you.  No matter what the circumstances dictated.

I felt as though I were dying, eight days without contact is not unusual not for us but then I got the call.  Direct from Waverly telling me that they had retrieved you and to come to HQ immediately.

Four hours Illya, four lonely hours I waited before they’d let me in to see you and only then because I pushed.  I think perhaps I scared them, I don’t care.  So much for a retrieval; they dumped your body, bruised and broken, bleeding from a dozen wounds on the charnel ground they took sadistic delight on you.  And the worst Oh God Illya the worst was yet to come.  They paralysed your vocal chords with their drugs, they didn’t want you to scream, but it means something else. They didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself against them, there is nothing they wanted except to hurt you.  You were the victim, the lamb that they sacrificed to get to us.

A power play my friend, nothing more. A horrid display of their power over us, and Waverly ordered it to be dealt with with extreme prejudice.  He thought for a moment to suspend me but then I think he realized it would be better for me to be on his side. He wanted cold, he wanted revenge, he wanted the balance restored and by everything holy that’s what he’s getting.

I’ve killed Illya, with my bare hands, with my gun, with a knife, cold brutal vengeance and they will be left reeling.  Uncertain as to what I will do next, the only thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that at some point in time, I will see you smile.  Did you know I could be this passionate? I doubt my sanity my dear one.  I don’t know what will happen if you fall to them, if they take you from me I don’t know if I can survive. Dozens lay under the cold sod Illya, I’ve killed dozens and will continue to do so until I’m told it’s enough and I have no remorse.  Even vengeance is cold.  He sneered Illya, told me you mouthed a word, simply my name as they took you and that you cried.  Mine was the last face he saw before he died, and he knew that hell wouldn’t even take me now.

How did it ever get this far? When did I become what I despise? I weep Illya, cold alone and silent in my heart, I weep and there is not a mortal who will look upon me and know that I am broken without you.
 

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