They'd moved her again, this time to a room with a large glass window looking out into the facility. It afforded her absolutely no privacy, though she was sure most everyone had seen everything at this point. She woke up regularly with aches in her most intimate places.
This time she woke for different reasons. She heard a commotion outside her room and stood in the darkness to walk to the window. Placing her hands against the glass, she attempted to get a view of the hall. There was nothing visible, but she could hear a few gunshots. She stayed at the window, pressed close as close as her belly would let her. She jumped back as someone was thrown against the glass, cracking where his skull hit. Moira wrapped her arms around herself, protectively, flinching back in case the glass came crashing in. Her breath caught in her throat at what she saw next.
Azazel moved quickly to the glass window, pressing his hands against it. She joined him at the window, placing her hands against his. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, his mouth hanging open slightly. He took a step back and in a sulphorous cloud appeared beside her. Moira all but fell into his arms, he crushing her against him. "Moya koroleva," he cried, then held her out at an arms length. "What did they do? How is.." his eyes trailed to the baby.
"We're fine. Get us out of here," she told him, refusing to let go. He took a quick look around the room, his eye falling on the bed with restraints. He nodded at her and in another burst of smoke they were gone.
They reappeared in a snowy, wooded area. It must have been late, the moon hanging high in the sky. There was a tiny cabin just to her left. "You go in. I will bring Kurt," he told her.
Moira didn't want to let go of him, but for their son knew she had to. She kissed him and stepped back, as he disappeared again.
She went to the cabin, a small one room abode. A fire was going in the fireplace and there was food laid out. She went to that immediately, munching down an apple at record speed. The baby danced as she ate, Moira rubbing her. "Hungry, darling?"
Sitting in a single chair by the fire, Moira waited impatiently for Azazel to return. After what seemed like forever, he reappeared outside. He rushed into the cabin with their son, slumbering heavily in his arms. "He is not waking," Azazel panicked as he lay the boy on a mattress in the corner.
"They've kept us sedated," Moira told him. She checked his pulse and listened to him breath. "He's ok," she told her husband as she gathered her son in her arms. "He'll be ok." She prayed she was right.
Azazel stood above them. "And the baby? What about baby?"
"She's ok too," Moira told him. His eyebrow quirked at her, but he didn't prod.
He knelt beside her and took her hand, inspecting her wrists. Azazel scowled and stood again, turning his back to them. "They tie you up. They hurt you, they do things to you and Kurt. My son and my wife," he punched the wall. "My wife. My pregnant wife." His anger was terrifying, she'd never seen him like this. "What did they do? How did they hurt you?"
"I was asleep most of the time," she told him honestly. "I don't even know how long we've been gone." His anger rose with her every statement, and she didn't want to go into detail. She didn't know what he'd do if he knew where they'd focused their efforts on her.
Azazel stormed to a trunk by the fireplace, flicking it open and pulling out two odd shaped daggers. They were vaguely familiar to her, and she realized she recognized them from when they first met on the beach, years prior. His face, however, held far more hatred and anger than she'd ever seen before. He headed for the door. "I will be back. Food is here and fire will go. Stay inside."
"Alek," she called after him. "Please, don't!" It was too late. He'd already disappeared. She rocked her boy on the mattress, grateful to feel his weight in her arms again. She didn't know what her husband would do, but she was sure there would be no survivors.
~&Q~
Hours passed like days, Moira feeling heavier as each went by. Kurt still slept beside her, his breathing even which comforted her. She kept one hand gently placed on his chest, feeling it rise and fall. The other on her stomach, monitoring her other child. Light began to pour in through the windows and Moira wondered how long they'd been waiting. She took every opportunity to pray to whatever powers that be, let him return to them. He was vicious and a good fighter, but they had technology on their side. What could his daggers do against their guns?
Kurt stirred, opening his eyes and looking up to her groggily. "Mommy?"
"I'm here angel," she bent down to kiss his head. "How do you feel?"
"Tired," he punctuated that with a yawn, his eyes closing again.
"Go back to sleep," she told him. He followed instruction, his breathing growing deep as he fell back asleep.
She sat with him a little while longer, the day creeping in until she was sure it was close to noon. Sleep tried to claim her many times, but she wouldn't let it, not until she knew her husband was alright. Finally, after an eternity and a day, she heard the soft sound of his arrival outside the door. She stood and hurried over, flinging it open and gasping at the sight of him. His clothing was torn and he sported a gash across his cheek. His knuckles were white where they grasped the daggers, each soaked in blood. Blood seemed to spatter across him. Moira moved out the door to hold him, but he brushed past her heading to the back of the cabin. She followed close behind.
"You should stay in," he told her. "Is too cold."
"What happened, Alek?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Is done. They will hurt no one again," he responded, leaning beside a pump well. He filled a bucket, using it to clean his daggers and then started on himself. Moira moved up to him, grabbing a rag to help. He grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Go inside. Think of baby. I will be in soon."
She nodded, handing over the rag and heading back into the house. A few moments later Azazel entered, wearing nothing but a cloth wrapped around his waist. They were silent while he found clothing and dressed himself, then poured a glass of vodka and collapsed on a chair. He took a long swig then turned to his family. "How is he?" he indicated their son.
"He's fine. He woke up a little while ago. Just need to let the sedatives wear off," Moira told him, absently patting her hand through her boy's hair. She turned her attention back on her husband. "How are you?"
"Fine," he told her, taking another swig. "How is baby?"
"She's good," Moira looked down to her stomach.
"She?" he inquired.
"They found out, at the-" she trailed off. "We're having a daughter."
Azazel turned his face away from her, finishing his glass. "Daughter." He repeated and was silent a long while.
Moira sat in this heavy silence, watching her love as he sat so close, yet seemed so far away. Their daughter must have woken, because she began turning and moving against Moira's hands. She stood and moved beside Azazel, taking one of his hands in hers and pressing it against her belly, silently. His head turned to her as their baby bumped his hand, his eyes wide. He turned completely, falling out of the chair and to his knees in front of her, wrapping both his hands around her stomach. He looked up at her again, his eyes filling with tears. "Is?"
"Our daughter," she told him, reaching down to brush back his hair. Azazel laid his cheek against her stomach, speaking softly in Russian to their baby. His voice grew choked as he did and he began to sob against her, holding to her tightly. Moira ran her hands through his hair, trying to comfort him as he cried.
"I feel her," he said as he pulled away lightly. "Daddy lyubit tebya." He placed a kiss to her stomach, then wiped his eyes. "She is active."
Moira nodded. "Now you know how I feel."
He laughed a bit, moving to wipe his eyes again. "She is so special. I almost lost her, lost you. Lost my family."
Moira bent down beside him, pulling him into her arms. "We're together now. Nothing will come between us again." She kissed his cheeks where tears remained.
Azazel nodded. "I will never let it happen again. Never let anything happen again."
"It's not your fault," she told him. "We couldn't know this would happen."
"We trusted wrong people," he responded. "Never again." He took a shuddering breath. "I have never felt like this after killing before. Never felt such fear." He cupped her cheek. "Never had so much to lose."
She nodded, kissing his palm. "We need to find a safe place for us. Where are we now?"
"Siberia, just outside KSSR. Very secluded area, here cannot be accessed by car or foot, very difficult terrain."
"Perfect for teleporting, though," she responded to him. "We're in the USSR?"
"Da," he said. "Is ok?"
Under normal circumstances, it was absolutely not ok. She was an American citizen, a former CIA agent. But normal circumstances ended with her the moment she fell in love with Azazel, though were she honest, they more likely ended the moment she called Kurt her son. She happily traded normal for her family. "It's perfect."
"Not perfect," he told her. "One of my hide outs I use when working. Not the best. We will find better place. I have friend we can see."
"Friend?" she responded.
"Yes. Old friend from many years ago. Met her through Shaw," Moira's expression changed and he clarified. "She did not work with him. She was simply friend. Very good person, she took in child from place."
"From the facility? You were able to find the children?" Moira asked.
"Only one. My friend took her in," He guided Moira toward the mattress. "We sleep now. In morning, we go to Mississippi."
~&Q~
In Ft Lauderdale today. I am curious if there is anyone out there who is willing to be a sounding board for some of my ideas with this story? Message me!