Illya woke early the next morning before the rest of his family. He pulled a sheet of writing paper and an envelope from his desk, composing what felt like the worst letter he had to write in his entire life. It was a letter of surrender and that was something he very much did not want to do but now it seemed as though he had no choice. This was all his fault and supposed he deserved the hand being dealt him.
When he was finished, he sealed the envelope, then walked out to the dining room, leaving it on the table. Boris jumped up on he table greeting him with a miaou.
"Good bye old girl," he said to her sadly. illya turned glancing back, taking a last look at the only true home he had known since he was a child; then left the house, closing the door behind him for possibly the last time.
It was dark, dreary and still raining. He wore only his suit jacket and no overcoat as turned up the collar; stepping out to the curb to hail a taxi, looking unkept, unshaven and reeking of alcohol. A checkered cab pulled up within minutes.'
"Rough night...where to mista?" but the driver received no answer. "Hey it's your dime, but where you wanna go fella?"
"Sorry," Illya hesitated, " take me to...Central Park please."
"You wanna go to the park on a day like today."
Illya just shrugged.
"O.K. buddy suit yourself."
The cabbie dropped him off, looking at Illya like he was crazy as he paid the fare, then walked off into the pouring rain, disappearing into the park.
He wasn't sure why he had told the cabbie to drive there as he wandered along the Ramble.
The trees were void of leaves now, looking like lifeless skeletons as they existed in their dormancy, waiting for the snows of winter to arrive, but he supposed their look suited his mood. Illya found himself at the Bow Bridge, the place where it seemed like an eternity ago that he had first proposed to Elliott and she turned him down. Perhaps that was the first clue that he had missed that things with her would eventually go wrong. Her emotional outbursts about not being able to conceive another child...her jibes and jabs at him over the years? He discounted them as nothing, but perhaps they were not after all? There had to be something that fueled her anger against him, as she would not listen to reason?"
He asked himself if it could really be over? Did he hurt her that badly that she could not undertand his motives for his actions? Perhaps now, only time would tell.
He sneezed violently, having been oblivious to the rain, then decided that he had indeed been an idiot for wandering out in the rain. He walked back to Fifth Avenue, trying to hail another taxi to go to Napoleon's penthouse.
Napoleon had some difficulties with Bella having broken off their engagement and he hoped that had at least been straightened out. They would both be a fine miserable pair if it had not been resolved.
If his partner and Bella had reconciled; would he and Elliott be able to do the same, was it possible for Elliott to make peace with him? He stood outside of the park; his suit completely soaked. He had slept in it, making him look even more unkept, a few taxis passed him by he supposed for that reason, then finally one stopped to rescue him. He gave the driver Napoleon's address then ignored the man as he tried to engage him in coversation.
Illya arrived at Napoleon's building and was grateful that his partner was home, his clothes were sopping wet, leaving a puddle in the elevator as he stepped off on Napoleon's floor.
He pressed the buzzer just as his partner opened the door for him, the conciererge having called Napoleon to let him know that Mr. Kuryakin was coming up.
"Jesus, Illya you look like a drowned rat?"
"Thank you for noticing, nice to know your eyesight is still 20/20." he said as he walked inside.
"Whoa, just wait a minute," Napoleon said, ignoring the Russian's wisecrack," stand there while I get you a towel and a robe."
Napoleon appeared a minute later, helping Illya to dry himslelf. "give me your clothes before you catch one of your colds, and here put this on." he said handing over a thick floor length terry cloth robe.
Illya sat on the sofa continuing to dry his hair with the towel as Napoleon returned with a hot cup of tea, prepared just the way he knew his partner liked it.
"Thank you my friend," the Russian said quietly as he sipped the tea.
"So you going to tell me what's going on? I would have thought you'd have been home with Elliott? You two O.K."
"No, unfortunately we are not. I am afraid Elliott is taking what I told her very much to heart and truly believes I rejected her. She will not listen to me Napoleon. I do not know what to do."
He rested his head wearily in his hand as his partner sat beside him. "I apologize for intruding Napoleon, you have your own personal problems to be dealing with; I should not be bothering you with this, but I did not know where else to go."
"Illya everything is fine between Bella and I, the wedding is back on,and don't even thing for one minute that you're bothering me, you are my best friend, remember?" Napoleon said leaning in, placing a hand on his partner's shoulder.
"Whew...you've been drinking haven't you? Never mind don't answer that, I can smell that you have. Go take a shower. I'll leave a pair of sweats out for you, while I make us some breakfast. Then we'll talk, sound like a plan?'
Illya nodded wordlessly, then headed off to the bathroom.
He prepared their morning meal, but as they ate little was said. Solo knew that his partner was turning the facts over and over in his head just as he always had done, when finally Illya spoke.
"Napoleon, I am afraid my marriage is over. Elliott will not listen to reason, and there is nothing I can do to remedy that. I have no choice but to abide by her decision. I am worried about Demya, as she now seems to want to cut him off from all that is Russian...she is insisting on calling him Damien. I do not understand why she is thinking this way. I will not let her do it though; cut me off from my son that is. It will not happen, I promise you."
Napoleon could hear the anger begin to rise in Illya's voice and attempted to circumvent it before it got out of hand. He knew the best thing was for the Russian was to stay calm. He had to figure out a way to keep him from falling into one of his brooding, melancholy moods.
"Look, I think you need to lay down and get some decent sleep before you start making some decisions? Go into the guest room and get in bed now, and that's not a request tovarisch."
"Alright, thank you Napoleon" he agreed surprisingly without argument. Illya disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Napoleon waited a few minutes, then picked up the telephone receiver; calling the Kuryakin household. The phone rang several times before it was finally answered.
"Hello?" the boy answered.
"Hi Demya, it's Uncle Napoleon, may I speak to your mother please?"
"Yes sir, mama says my name is Damien, but papa told me it's really Demya. Uncle Napoleon, do you know where my papa is, when I woke up he was gone, again? He told me he was home now, why did he leave?"
"Demya, your papa is here at my house, and I'm sure he'll be coming back home soon, now please I need to speak to your mother."
He heard the receiver hit the counter, then the boy's voice in the background calling for his mother...and Elliott's voice scolding him for answering the telephone.
"Good morning Napoleon."
"That's debatable. Aren't you missing someone from home...a certain Russian?"
"I hadn't noticed."
"Elliott, come on? He's here and he's devastated. You can't really be considering doing this to him. For Godssake after all he's been through?
"I'm pretty devastated too ye know?"
"Ellie, will you get it through that stubborn Irish head of yours that he did it to only protect the two of you? You know how much the man loves you, how could he want to put you through the life of misery that was staring him in the face...you know how selfless he is. After all the misery and cruelty he's experienced, nearly dying and still he was ready to suffer alone the rest of his life rather than making you care for an invalid. Maybe you need you to think about that before you make any decisions that you'll regret."
Elliott started to cry quietly as she listened to Napoleon.
"Please promise me that? Promise you'll think things over carefully and not emotionally?" he asked her with all the sincerity he could muster.
"Alright Napoleon, I promise. Thanks fer calling."
Napoleon stared at the receiver in his hand for a second before hanging it up, hoping that he had gotten through to her somehow.
The sitter that had been arranged through headquarters arrived as Elliott readied herself to leave for leave for a simple courier pickup outside the city, some where in White Plains, when she saw the envelope lying on the dining room table.
It was sealed with nothing written on it. She opened it and as soon as she saw the careful handwriting; she knew it was from Illya.
"Elliott,
"For what it is worth, I am sorry to have hurt you by sending you away, but trust me by no means were you ever being dismissed. I called you nothing, but in truth your were and are everything to me. There has not been a moment that I have not thought of you...of holding you, kissing and making love to you. But at the time of spoke those terrible words to you; I believed it was never going to be.
I could not bear having you out of my reach, never being able to touch you and our son again. I know what I did caused you pain but I believed you stubborn and strong enough to endure it.
I saw no other way for me to convince you to leave; had I not done so you would have stayed by my side and that simply could not be. I was desperate to spare you what anguish I could over having to care for a man who could no longer be a husband to you and a father to our son. I could not be a burden to my family; my continued presence would have meant more terrible pain and sadness for all of us.
Please forgive me for doing what was necessary. There was no meanness behind it, only hope to spare you further suffering.
Annushka, I never stopped loving you with all my heart and soul and only hope that someday you will forgive me?
If you cannot, then please at least permit me to see my son? Please do not turn him against me;with you gone from my life, he will be all that I have left. Do not try to take him away from me; this I will not permit."
"Vy vsegda budete moyei lyubimoy, Ya molyus' chtoby ya snova budet tvoya_you will always be my beloved. I pray that I will again be yours."
Illuysha
Elliott dropped the letter on the table. "Oh my God, what have I done to him? How could I have been so fecking pig-headed?" she gasped.
"Ye oinseach_jerk," she called herself in Irish, "how could ye have been so blind?" Elliott realized that Napoleon was right. Illya was willing to spend his life alone in order to spare her a lifetime of suffering.
She picked up the telephone calling for a taxi, then when it arrived; she headed to Naploeon's place, arriving at his door a short while later.
"Is he still here?" she asked Napoleon as he opened his door to her.
"Yes, but he's not doing well. I've never seen him like this before. You're not going to say anything negative to him are you? That man is sitting in there like his heart has been ripped out. Promise me?"
"No, I've come to tell him I'm sorry. I just hope he'll forgive me for being so cruel to him...after all he's been through. I've been such an ass. Where is he?"
"In the study."
Illya had slept most of the day, finally emerging late in the afternoon and sitting on the sofa, just staring and not saying a word.
But Napoleon could feel the sadness exuding from his partner. He offered Illya something to eat, but the Russian passed on it. Not a good sign.
He'd hoped his call to Elliott would have brought her over but guessed that it wasn't going to happen. But now that she was here, he was worried about what she might say to him, in spite of her promise.
Elliott walked quietly into the study, seeing him on the black leather sofa, his head cradled in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees.
"Illya?" she whispered softly.
He looked up at her with a terrible sadness in his blue eyes."Did you read the letter?"
"Yes I did."
He sniffed. "I will move my things out tonight. May I see my son to explain things to him?" He spoke so quietly, as if all the life had been taken out of his voice.
"No..." she said walking towards him.
Illya's face turned red. "You will not keep me from my son! That will not happen!" he warned her, pointing his finger at her.
"No, Illuysha. Ye don't have ta move out...oh my darlin' man, please forgive me for not listening to ye. I was so busy being stubborn and angry that I wouldn't hear what ye were trying ta tell me?" Oh God, I'm such a feckin' hag!" She sat beside him on the sofa, running her fingers through his blond hair. "How could I have ever been so selfish as to do this to ye, after all ye have been through? Can ye forgive me?"
Illya reached out, pulling her to him and burying his head to her shoulder.
She could feel his body trembling as he cried quietly. He finally lifted his head, wiping the tears from his eyes. Then he lifted her into his lap, kissing her long and hard.
"I thought I would never get to do that again, " he whispered.
Napoleon stood at the door, clearing his throat. He pointed his thumb back at his bedroom door. "Be my guest," he grinned.
Illlya took his wife's hand, leading her into the bedroom. They made love to each other as though it was their very first time together, gently touching each other like new lovers.
Some time later they emerged from the room; the scent of food luring them both.
Napoleon had the dining room table set with candles and an exquisite dinner set out for them.
"Monsieur et Madam, dinner is served."
"What about ye? Elliott asked, seeing only two place settings.
"No worries kiddies, the place is yours for the evening as I have a dinner engagement...a long overdue one as a matter of fact; to discuss wedding plans with my fiancée." he smiled.
Elliott grabbed Napoleon around the neck hugging him tightly. Then whispered into his ear. "glad life has gotten better for ye too."
"As am I." he smiled.
"Napoleon," Illya called after him, " thank you my friend for everything."
"Don't worry," he joked, " I'll send you a bill. Good night."
They had all some how managed in one way or another to help each other to see past the sadness in their lives, each rekindling the inner spirit that lie dormant inside each of them.
Demya had done it for Napoleon, helping him make up his mind about fatherhood, Elliott helped Bella open her eyes to the life that lay before her, letting her make her decision to stay with Napoleon be made with a level head. And Napoleon gave hope back to the Kuryakins, helping their them to overcome their anger and find their love for each other again. The inner fire had returned to all of them thanks to the bonds of friendship.
Just a little over a month later, the fruits of their love blossomed, giving a reason, or rather reasons to celebrate, as both Elliott and Bella were pregnant.
FINIS