An annoyed duty nurse came in to check on Illya once he had been settled back into bed with the help of the orderly, and that was when Napoleon made a hasty retreat. "Ya na khochu drugoy povinovenii ot etogo_I don't not want to get another tongue lashing from this one." He spoke to his partner in Russian
"I heard that Mr. Solo," she snapped back apparently understanding him.
"Ugh, sorry Nurse...Chekov?" He said looking at her name badge.
"I'll be back later moy drug, da?" He said to his partner as he headed towards the door.
"Pozhaluista." Illya whispered.
"So Mr. Kuryakin, any more escape attempts," the nurse smiled at him," and I promise you I will have you put in restraints so much so that you won't even be able to scratch your balls. Got it?
"Ponyal, " he reluctantly agreed.
"Horosho_good. Now take these for the pain, as I'm sure your little adventure up to your daughters room has aggravated your body," she said holding out two tablets towards him in a paper cup. "I know you're worried about her and I understand how you feel, but you have to allow your injuries to heal. I know you don't believe it, but the doctors do know that they're doing."
He said nothing. In the past he would have engaged anyone who spoke Russian in conversation, but not this time. She was the enemy for the moment.
Illya took the cup in his hand but managed to palm the pills instead of swallowing them, then took a sip from the glass of water that followed. As soon as she was gone, the tucked the medication into the pillow case.
He was in pain, in that she was correct, but he had felt worse in the past and this was nothing he could not endure. An attempt to see Lourdes Mary again would not work now as he was sure they would be watching his room. He would have to rely on Napoleon for any details of her condition as he was sure Elliott would hold back the worst of it to keep him from becoming upset.
He shut his eyes tightly, fighting back any tears at the thought of losing his beautiful child. If she died, he would not only lose his daughter, but it would be like losing his beloved sister Katiya all over again...Lala was so much like her.
He fell asleep dreaming of Lourdes and Katiya, as they had become interchangeable in his dreams.
"Illie catch me. Come play with me? Katiya called to him.
"I cannot, I have work to do and much clean up the chicken coops...I will play with you later."
"Illie pleeeese?
"Alright," he laughed, "just for a few minutes." He tickled her and she began to giggle uncontrollably.
"Pa-pa pay Lala da?"
"Lala moy angel, da. We can play, yes."
Da Da Da! Lalalalalala! She giggled uncontrollably as he tickled her while he sang to her, laduski laduski. Gde byli..."
"PAPA!" A voice called to Illya, waking him with a start. His dream was so vivid, yet he knew that Lourdes couldn't talk yet, but in his dreams she was able to...or was it Katiya speaking to him?"
He opened his eyes seeing his son Demya rushing into his room accompanied by his partner.
"Papa Papa!" Demya charged to his bedside.
"Careful volchok," Napoleon said as he lifted the boy to the bed, "don't bang into your father, he has a lot of bumps and bruises."
"Papa, Lala is very sick," he whispered sadly.
Illya gently pulled his son close to him, kissing him on the head. Demya carefully wrapped his arms around his father's chest as if trying to soften the harshness of the news about his sister.
"Any news on her?" Illya asked Napoleon.
"Not yet, I was going to go check on her for you. Elliott sends her love, she's in bed at home. Not moving too well today so Schneider ordered her to stay supine and for once she didn't argue with him.
"That is a rarity," Illya smiled." I guess she is mellowing out a bit."
"Not by much, trust me. Bella is staying with her to make sure she remains in compliance with Max's instructions.
"That will be interesting, Master Sergeant Bella meets...Wonder woman?" Illya questioned his reference.
"Very good tovarisch, there's hope for you yet." Napoleon smiled.
"I hardly think that will be on the test for citizenship." Illya quipped.
"Demmy?" Napoleon said, addressing his attention to the boy. "I'm going to go check on your sister and promise I'll be right back. You're in charge here until I do. Your Pop is not to step one foot out of bed. Vy ponimaete?"
"Da, I understand Uncle Napoleon. I promise."
As soon as Solo left, Illya tried pulling a fast one.
"Demyachka, go get me the wheelchair out in the hallway please?"
"No Papa, I promised Uncle Napoleon, so you know I can't."
"Demya Il'ich, ni oslushat' sya ottsa_Demya Il'ich do not disobey your father."
"Nyet." The boy switched to Russian just as his father always did when he meant business. "Ya da slovo_ I gave my word to my Uncle and cannot break it."
Illya sighed. "No you cannot, you must keep your word my son. That makes me very proud of you." He laid his head back down on the pillow, waiting impatiently for Napoleon's return.
Demya continued to lay beside his father, his hand clasped by him and Illya gave his son's small hand a squeeze...grateful that his boy was with him and unharmed.
.
Elliott had just finished dressing herself. As much pain as she was in, she just could not stand laying in bed any longer. She was restless and her inactivity did not help her worry as she fought back to control her emotions.
Her right arm was in a cast, she sported two black eyes, a broken nose and a large bandage across her forehead. The rest of her body was covered with assorted bruises and cuts along with a few stitches and every muscle seemed to ache. Just like her husband, she refused to take the pain killers she had been prescribed and Bella knowing her stubborn Irish temper didn't fight her on it.
Bella popped in the doorway with a couple of cups of tea in her hands. This was something she could at least use to soothe Elliott's frayed nerves. As a head nurse in Mount Sinai hospital, Bella was used to dealing with special patients, those difficult to handle like foreign diplomats and of course U.N.C.L.E. agents who needed more intensive care than their medical facility could offer.*
It was there in the hospital that she'd met Napoleon, and Elliott and from her past experiences knew what trouble agents could be. They needed what she called TLC...tough loving care. But today was not the day to be tough with Elliott as there was too much emotion involved. Elliott needed compassion not commands.
She thought of her own daughters Appollonia and Lucine and their father Napoleon and tried to imagine how she'd feel if she were in Elliott's position, afraid of losing a husband and a child.
"Well I see that didn't last long." Bella said as she saw a fully clothed Elliott sitting on the bed. " Here just sit there and have some tea with me here, you're not going to tackle those stairs yet...are you?"
Elliott tried smiling. "No not quite, but soon. I just can't stay still like this. I need ta be busy, as I've too much on my mind. One can only nap so much. Ye understand don't ye?"
"Of course I do." Bella smiled gently. "Napoleon said Illya's awake and has come to his senses, and he took Demmy to see him. I hope you don't mind, we didn't want to wake you to tell you."
"No that's fine, it'll do them both good ta see each other, so does that mean Illuysha is out of the woods?"
"No, he's not yet, they're still monitoring his head injury and Lourdes is the same honey, no change. I know it's hard but they're both in good hands and that little one is a fighter...she comes from tough stock."
Elliott nodded slightly as she sipped her tea, but Bella could hear the cup rattling on the saucer as Elliott's hand trembled. She cold see that she was trying lot to let herself cry.
" I'm so afraid that I could lose them both."
Bella took hold of Elliotts hands in hers. "Hey aren't you the one who's always saying we have to have faith?" She then pulled a rosary from her pocket. " Come on, say a decade with me."
That did it, and the tears began to flow. Bella grabbed tissues for both of them, then together they began to pray aloud.
.
"Seven tension-filled days later Illya Kuryakin was finally being released from the hospital. He had endured the daily poking, prodding and physical therapy as he was still unsteady on his feet, but his balance had finally improved.
He was still quite sore from his surgery. He was not quite able to bend that well yet and the effort to dress himself exhausted him, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone.
Elliott was there with him, but refused her offer of help, being his usual stubborn self, opted to dress himself in the bathroom away from prying eyes and good intentions.
He steadied himself as today would be the first day that he would be permitted to actually visit with his daughter. He'd been taken by wheel chair a few times, but could only look at her from across the room as she was surrounded by too much medical equipment.
The doctors had informed him of her condition as had his wife; she had been downgraded from critical to serious but to him there was little difference.
Elliott visited their daughter daily, but he knew that she was giving him sugar-coated updates, and understood her reasoning for doing so.
He walked out from the bathroom, moving slowly and deliberately, just a little hunched over from his discomfort.
Once he would have bounced back from such injuries in no time, but he was getting older and his body had suffered many abuses over the years. He was still refusing to take his pain medications and the nursing staff had all but given up on fighting with him over it.
He was allergic to penicillin and the only thing the would agree to take was ampicillin to ward off any infection.
"Are ye are sure ye are up to this Illuysha?'
He shot her an irritated look as his answer.
Elliott walked over to him, brushing a piece of lint form his grey polo shirt. "Don't get annoyed with me, " she said, holding his sports jacket up for him to slip his one arm into it as his other was still in a cast.
"Everyone is walking around me like they are on egg shells when Lourdes' name is mentioned, I am her father and am worried about her and I have every right to know the truth.
What is going on with her, and no sugar coating this time? I am tired of being coddled...I need to know the truth."
Elliott's face flushed pink. "Ye are right, I have been protecting ye. She's not doing well.
"Annushka what exactly does that mean?"
"The truth is our daughter may die, we just told you that she was in serious condition, when she's in fact still in critical condition. She has some swelling on the brain and they they are considering inserting a shunt to relieve the pressure. She has a skull fracture and is in a coma. If she comes out of the coma and she survives, the doctors are unsure if there will be brain damage."
Illya said nothing as he was again brought to his daughter in a wheel chair. "Sorry, hospital rules Mr. Kuryakin, " the orderly apologized.
The Russian's hand was held by his wife and she helped him to rise from the chair and giving it a squeezed before she released it once they had reached ICU.
Illya walked slowly to his daughters crib, looking down upon the tiny red-headed child, still attached to a myriad of tubes and wires. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor beeping was the only noise in the room, besides the shushing sound of a respirator.
His hand shook as he reached for her, his lower lip trembling and he gently stroked her face. She looked so swollen and bloated, and her beautiful pale skin was dotted with fading bruises.
Elliott reached out to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head against his back, then he turned to her, pulling her into his arms but saying nothing as the two of the grieved together in silence.
Dr. Abrams the attending physician walked into the room.
"Oh good, you're both here. I have some good news at last for you, "he announced with a broad smile. "Her swelling has decreased substantially and we're going to remove her the respirator. She's one tough little girl, I'll give you that. Now if I you could just step of the room for a few minutes to let me do my thing?"
Together they walked to the waiting room, Elliott steadying her husband just a little. They were hopeful at the news, but seemed afraid to acknowledge it just yet.
Dr. Abrams walked out to them. "Everything is fine, she's breathing on her own. We'll still need to keep the feeding tube in and the catheters of course. Now it's just a question of time.
"Time?" Illya asked.
"To see if she wakes up from the coma. I wish I could tell you more than that. Right now she's in God's hands as there's nothing more that I can do for her."
They went in again to see their daughter and after a few minutes Elliott looked at her watch." Illya we need to go now, Demmy will be getting home from Carmines soon and I'm sure he'll be all fired up ready to see you."
"I am staying here," he announced.
"Ye can't do that."
"Do not try to persuade me otherwise ma chèrie, I am not leaving her and that is final. And besides I have to be here first thing in the morning for physical therapy anyway."
"Ah sure that's just yer excuse." She smiled knowingly. "Fine, just don't forget ye have another child at home?"
"I have not, Demya will be fine, perhaps you could bring him tomorrow to visit both of us, da?"
"Alright, ye win Cossack, but remember the doctor said no bending or lifting, please listen to that much will ye? And too bad "she whispered quietly," and when ye do get home...remember, no sex for a while."
"Ha ha." He smirked wickedly." But you better watch out for when I am able to make love to you."
They kissed each other goodby without saying another word.
He latched onto the railing of Lourdes' crib, so tightly that his knuckles turned white...old emotions and hurts from his childhood were struggling to free themselves, as tears finally welled up in his eyes.
"I am here Kat..." he stopped himself, almost saying his sister's name, his little red-haired sister that he still berated himself for having left her alone to die.
He pushed those feelings aside, reaching out to Lourdes, stroking her tiny head. If she were to die, she would not do it alone. He would be there with her, and not abandon her.
"Papa zdes' moya devochka, Papa zdes'_Papa is here my baby girl, Papa is here," he whispered softly to her. I will not leave you until you come back to me..."he choked on the next words, " or until you leave me to go to heaven."
"He closed his eyes, praying silently then asked his Mama and Baba and the rest of his family to watch over Lourdes Mary Il'ich Kuryakin.
.
* ref "The Summit Affair"