Pitch Black, Part 1: told in a drabble.

Upon entering Illya's hospital room in Medical, Alexander Waverly was visibly upset by what he found.

The enforcement agent was moaning in obvious pain. Bed covers askew; his face was red and he was thrashing about.

"Mr. Kuryakin, I have some questions."

No answer.

"Mr. Kuryakin, would you like me to call for the nurse?"

Suddenly, the lights went out and the door to the room slammed shut.

Alone together in the pitch black darkness, Waverly waited patiently until the emergency generators kicked in. He took hold of Illya's arm to ground them both and found it hot and dry.


Pitch Black, Part 2: a double drabble and the conclusion.

'Who's there?" A faltering voice came from the weakened patient.

"It's just a power failure and the backup generator should start up momentarily."

"Where's mama? Is she all right?"

A pause and then, "She's fine. Close your eyes now and rest."

Sheets rustled.

"It….it hurts.."

A wrinkled hand reached out in the blackness to soothe a fevered brow.

"Shhhh. We'll give you some medicine soon. Just lie still and I'll watch over you."

"I will try... ."

Together they waited, one in the past, the other in the present, for the return of the light.

Emergency bulbs above the door colored the room with pale, amber light; the door opened and a nurse entered.

I.V. opiates quickly erased the lines on Illya's face. He fell quickly and quietly asleep.

"The drugs should start working soon, sir. He'll make more sense in a few hours. Perhaps you should come back then."

"He's not likely to remember any of this, is he?"

"No," she replied, "I'm sure he won't."

Waverly paused in the doorway, looked back and smiled at the agent to whom he'd given a brief moment of comfort in the darkness.

"That's probably for the best."