Illya willed himself to calm down.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Closing his eyes and imagining Gaby standing in front of him.
Taking his hands.
Locking the monster in.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
His eyes snapped open.

Calm again and he let his cold fingers flew over her body.
The first scar was there.
Right were the bullet had nicked her.
It made his heart race.
That was nothing.
Meant nothing.
They could have done it to the poor girl.
To let her look like Gaby.
He noticed the slight shake of his fingers.
He checked the next scar.
It was there as well.
He felt his breathing pick up and he stepped to her feet.
Illya knew exactly were the thin, silver scar lay on the sole of her foot.
Relief washed over him as it wasn't there.

Everytime a scar wasn't there it calmed him.
Everytime a scar was there it made his heart race and the doubt well up.

"It's not her!" Illya whispered into the room, staring at the battered face.

A face he knew too well.
He had memorized it over and over again.
He had studied it.
It was imprinted in his mind.
Even tough the woman looked like Gaby everything seemed wrong to him.
Or did he just make himself believe it was wrong?
Because he couldn't accept that she was dead.

Illya stared at the girl.
He had to give them this.
The woman looked like Gaby.
A doppelgänger.
It was an exquisite job.
Everyone would fall for it.
Even Solo had.
Or maybe he was just…

"It can't be you!" He gritted between his teeth, staring at the woman. Pushing away the doubt.

His head snapped up as the doors to the morgue got pushed open.
Letting him snap out of his poundering.
The doctor froze in his tracks, eyes widening as he saw the tall man bending over the body of the poor, young woman.
He cleared his throat.

"Mr. Kuryakin?"

Illya frowned at him.

"What do you want?" He snapped, glowering at him.

The doctor looked around nervously.
Illya sighed.
He was aware that most people were afraid of him.
Scared to death.
She never had been.
His gaze snapped back to the woman.

"I came to prepare Miss Teller for her journey to London. Mr. Waverly wants her in the Headquarter… But if you need more time… I…I can come back later…"

The doctor looked at him in sympathy.
Illya's gaze drifted once again over her face.
The bruises, the black eye, the broken nose.
He was just about to tell the doctor that it was okay.
That he could take her, when a memory rushed up to him.
Letting him gasp for air.
He felt his finger shake.

"I…need a moment!" Illya pressed out.

His eyes never leaving the woman.
He heard the doctor leave.
Probably glad not to be in a room with him anymore.
Illya's mind had already drifted back to an evening.


There had been a fire crackling lazily in the fireplace.
He had been bent over another chess match against himself.
Gaby had been sprawled over her part of the couch.
The one he had the perfect view on.

Henry had been laying on her belly, purring and from time to time looking at him.
He had stolen glances too.
Not at the cat.
But at Gaby.
She had stared at the ceiling absentmindedly, scratching Henry behind his ears and the other hand in her mouth.
As if she had something between her molars and couldn't get it out.
He remembered being tense.
It was the first time they had been alone since the incident.
Solo had left them alone.

"It is about time!", Solo had hissed as he was leaving the appartement for a bar, "It's been months of you two not talking and her refusing to share a room with you. I need my privacy during missions! Fix it!"

He had hated Cowboy in that moment.
Starring at the front door of their appartement as the American had slammed it shut.

He had felt like he was sitting on a bomb.
Solo knew exactly how many times he had apologized to her.
Trying to convince her to trust him again.
The thing with trust was that once it was broken, it was really hard to put it back together.

The big KGB agent was scared.
It was comically to him.
Any other time he would have teased her to get out of her sulking.
Not this time.

So it was no wonder he nearly jumped out of his skin when she spoke.

"I have a question" She wasn't looking at him, her eyes still on the ceiling. Her fingers in her mouth poking on something.

"Mmmmh?" He had tried to act cool.

Not to show that it flustered him and made him nervous.
Illya didn't want to mess up his chance.
He placed one of is chess pieces, which was a really bad move, but he had to do something.

"You are an expert in trackers, right?" He had looked up, scared out of his mind that she had found out about his other tracker he had set in her.

Without her knowledge.
He had realized then that this would break the thin ice they were currently moving on with their relationship.
He had shrugged.

"Wouldn't say that!" He had murmured and this time she had turned her head and glowered at him.

"Always the humble Russian, aren't you?" He had swallowed hard. There was no room for mistakes.

"Your question?" He had been surprised how even his voice had sounded.

"Is there a possibility of a tracker to be wrapped around a tooth?" This made him pause and frown at her.

"Why would you think that?"

"Would it be a possibility? Could that tracker survive for years?" She had looked at him.

Illya had seen the vulnerability in her eyes and it surprised him that she wouldn't talk or let him touch her for weeks, no months, and now come up with something like this.
He had swallowed hard.

"It would be an extraordinarily good tracker and… would require to hold still for a while… why would you…"

He had looked at her having still her fingers in her mouth.
He had gotten up so fast that he had startled her.
Not the cat.
Henry had looked at him through half closed eyes.
Miauing as he sat next to her on the couch.
Gaby had glowered at him, scooting over a little to make room for him.
Illya had looked down on her.

"Open your mouth", she had set her jaw and starred at him stubbornly, "please!"

Gaby had sighed heavily and had opened her mouth.
He had tipped her head back.
He couldn't see anything.
So he had gotten up and got the small flashlight they kept in a drawer.
By the time he had returned, Gaby had sat up with her head leaning against the back of the couch.

"Why do you think you have tracker in mouth?" Illya had asked her gently as he had sat down next to her.

She had shrugged, looking at her fingers.

"My dad… when I saw him in Rome he made a comment!" Gaby had looked at him.

The hostile look she always had given him after the incident gone.

"He had said that he always had known where I was to find me… but … if he did why didn't he come Illya? If he knew where I was the whole time? Why didn't he come?"

"To protect you?" She glared at him.

He quickly added. "He was around very dangerous people Gaby. I'm sure he didn't want you around them"

Her gaze softened and Illya felt relief wash over him.

"So why do you think your father would place tracker in your mouth?" He had asked and tipped her head back.

"Long story…" She had mumbled and had opened her mouth.

To his surprise there was indeed a tracker.
He had never seen anything like it.
Only an expert would have known there was one.

"And?" She had asked.

"Nothing! It must have fallen out long ago!" He had lied.

The lie had rolled easily over his lips.
He hadn't wanted to lie to her again.
It was necessary.
Otherwise she would have wanted him to remove it.
None would expect a tracker in her mouth.
Solo would have frowned at him and probably would have shaken his head at him.

"Really Peril? This is how you get your girl back?"

"She is not my girl!" He would never get that lucky.

So he hadn't told Cowboy about the tracker.
Because the American didn't need to know, the fewer people the better.
He had found out the code of the tracker.
He had also learnt that it was impossible for detection gear to find it.
It was his safety net.
If everything would go downhill.
Illya had pushed it to the back of his mind and he had almost forgotten about it.
Almost.


Satisfied he looked at the molars on the small medicine table.
They had no tracker.
It made his heart sing.
He could breathe more easily.
Illya glanced at the woman hidden under the sheet again.

"I'm sorry!" The Russian agent breathed.

He had to break her jaw to get what he wanted.
It had been worth it.
It was not Gaby.
He would prove it to Cowboy.
Carefully he put the teeth in a bag and sighed heavily.

"Sir?" One of the assistants popped her head in and looked at him warily.

"I'm done! Thank you!" He even smiled at her and left the morgue with quick steps.