Sacrifices for the Greater Good

Recovery I

Napoleon stared at Lord Barrow in shocked disbelief, while the other man stared back at him warily. With the glasses gone and the connection ready to put in place, Napoleon now could only berate himself as he noticed that the man in front of him, looked like a dark haired and bearded Illya. With a bellow of rage, Napoleon launched himself at the other man, his sudden speed and aggression taking him by surprise.

Both tumbled to the floor as the American rained punches and kicks downward while the other did nothing other than try to defend himself. He wasn't even aware of anything else happening as he focussed all his rage and grief on the target in front of him. He managed to get a few decent hits in before he was forced into a tight chokehold, the advantage of surprise had only lasted for a moment before he was forced into submission by the other man's vastly superior strength. Napoleon continued to fight like a madman for a moment longer before his helplessness took hold and he crumbled into a boneless heap, the fading white hot fury leaving him without the strength to hold himself up. Lord Barrow/Illya released him once he was satisfied that Napoleon was not going to attack him again and straightened up with a grimace, one hand going to his bruised ribs.

Dazedly, Napoleon looked up at Lady Barrow. Once the fight had begun she had moved over to the other side of the room and now she looked at him warily, as though expecting him to attack her as well. Another face swam through his mind and when he overlaid the two images he found fewer differences than expected.

"Gaby?" He choked out.

"Will you attack me if I say yes?" She sounded slightly frightened, not the fearless woman he remembered. Her appearance had changed drastically too, perhaps more so than Lord Barrow/Illya. He had kept his mountainous frame, but her body shape had changed. She had been slender and athletic before, very much resembling a ballerina in her stance, but time appeared to have added new curves where there had previously been smooth lines. Her fringe was gone, and her dyed blonde hair hung in loose curls around her face rather than straight and pulled back in a neat ponytail like she had normally worn it. Her makeup was different as well, probably to make up for the fact she couldn't hide most of her face under a beard. She used bright colours and bold eyeliner now instead of the plainer look she had preferred.

"No." He said simply, he didn't think he would be capable of it even if he wanted to. His answer seemed to reassure her and she approached cautiously, sending a concerned look over at Lord Barrow/Illya before she helped Napoleon up and onto the couch. She gave a slightly uncomfortable laugh.

"I guess we should have expected such a reaction." Lady Barrow/Gaby said. "We weren't sure how to break the news," she shot another look at Lord Barrow/Illya, "blurting it out like that was probably not the best idea."

"Would you have done any better?" Lord Barrow/Illya responded, affection tinging his voice as he spoke to her. It was like a half-dreamt memory for Napoleon, he couldn't quite accept that they were both standing in front of him now, behaving much the same as they had been the last time he saw them.

"You know what, I think we could all use a drink." Lady Barrow/Gaby announced, Napoleon watched with some confusion as Lord Barrow/Illya raised an eyebrow, and with an eye roll she corrected herself. "I think everyone except for me could use a drink." He looked more satisfied at that answer, and she busied herself by heading over to a cupboard to reveal several glasses and a large bottle of vodka.

"An excellent idea, Gaby." A new voice said from the doorway, Napoleon turned towards it instinctively and saw Waverly enter and shut the door behind him. Clearly he had been aware of what was going to happen and who his two workers really were. He heard the sound of pouring, and shortly afterwards Lady Barrow/Gaby made her way around the room handing drinks to all the men. Napoleon knocked his back immediately, the slight burn actually doing something to help him in his current state.

"You're not dead." Napoleon said, knowing that his half-question, half-statement was doing nothing more than stating the obvious but still felt the need to say it.

"That is correct." Gaby said gently, sitting down beside him. He noticed distantly that she was keeping her movement slow and deliberate, the gesture clearly meant to keep him at ease and stop another sudden attack. She was with Illya, of course she would have had to learn such behaviour when he had such a volatile temper.

"How- why?! Have you been working for him this whole time?" He blurted out, looking at all the guilty parties around him, and finding his focus suddenly narrowing on Waverly. How long had he known about this? Had the Englishman known while they grieved together?

"I found Gaby and Illya about a year ago in Scotland." Waverly said calmly, seeming to sense what Napoleon wanted to know. "I was just as surprised as you are."

"We are sorry about the deception." Illya said, trying to make himself comfortable on an armchair despite his injuries. "But it was necessary."

"Necessary?!" Napoleon snapped, feeling the same rage descend over him.

"Yes. Necessary." Gaby said firmly, her voice recapturing his attention. She looked totally serious. "We didn't fake our deaths because we thought it would be a funny joke."

"And that's what you did? You faked your deaths?" The way she had phrased it made it sound so deliberate, as though that had been the intention from the start. He had spent all that time mourning for nothing.

"Yes." She flicks her gaze away from his, shame colouring her pink. "I didn't lie about everything during that call. The Russells really did attack us."

"The call was a lie?" The revelation staggered him and he nearly sobbed out the words as he realised that those words, what he had thought had been her final words, had been fabricated.

"I'm sorry." And she looked it, her own eyes were wet with unshed tears. "I thought it would be better than nothing, I didn't want you to think it was your fault." He remembered that if had been something she had been surprisingly insistent on that day, with hindsight the call now seemed like it had been rehearsed.

"But why?" He couldn't think of a reason for why they would have done such a cruel thing. She looked at him uncertainly and turned her gaze to Waverly, seeming to ask something silently. Waverly coughed uncomfortably.

"I did tell him, but it seems to have slipped his mind." He told Gaby. Napoleon glanced between the two in confusion.

"Told me what?" Gaby looked back at him as he spoke, a sudden confident determination making its way over her features.

"We did it for Eric." She said, and when he still looked lost she elaborated. "The baby." She said, suddenly reminding Napoleon about the positive pregnancy test the hospital had released to the FBI. "He's nearly two now." She added with a smile, looking over at Illya with a proud look on her face. She sobered suddenly as she looked back at Napoleon. "We could never have stayed together as a family without disappearing like we did, when it came down to it we had to choose between staying or leaving you and having our child in relative safety. I won't insult you by lying, but that was not the difficult part of the decision." Napoleon put his head in his hands as he tried to wrap his mind around everything he had just learned.

"Were you lying about Illya getting knocked out?" He asked, referencing the call yet again.

"No, he did get hit with a tranquilizer dart." She said plainly. "I was also tied to a chair for some time, I kept all those details true."

"The best lie is one containing as much of the truth as possible." Napoleon said darkly. "How did you manage to survive then?"

"Super-agent over there had more tricks up his sleeve than we previously had thought." She said, nodding her head over at Illya with a wide smile as she teased him. "Maybe you should explain?"

"I can do." Illya spoke up, eyeing Napoleon warily. "If you would like to hear it."

Napoleon nodded in response, maybe hearing what happened would help clear things up in his mind and allow him to properly understand everything that had occurred. Waverly took a seat, settling in for a long wait.

"I too would like to hear. I never did get the full story of everything that happened." The Englishman said.

"Then I'll begin." Illya replied.

Author's Note: Loved the reactions to last chapter, it was exactly what I was hoping for. So going to briefly explain why I wrote the story the way I did. The Mission/Grief transition was left purposefully vague so you could experience the Grief chapters as Napoleon did. Knowing Gaby and Illya were alive would have reduced the effect of all the big moments, and also would have ruined the impact of last chapter's big reveal. Anywhere we're now going to be going through a series of flashbacks which I wrote immediately after Mission.