Chapter Fifteen - Epilogue

Irwine leaned against the railing at the stern of the ship, gazing down at the dark, still waters of the harbour. The starry sky above provided a tranquil counterpoint to the soft, shimmering reflections playing on the surface. If not for the dark thoughts swirling through his head, the ambiance might almost have been considered... meditative.

He didn't turn around, when the soft clinking sounds of footsteps could be heard, approaching from behind.

"Do you remember what I told you, back at the abandoned airfield? When you asked me about Couture? Before we joined Quinn and the others, on our way to the Hole?" - Yelena's soft voice sounded. Resignation was evident in it.

He didn't answer for a long moment... just nodding.

~"Please don't. Not if you want to keep thinking I'm not a monster."~

Those words of hers echoed in his mind, as he sighed.

"Curiousity killed the cat, huh?" - he murmured, feeling... drained, as he absently cracked his knuckles, one by one.

But he had only himself to blame. He... assumed too much. That maybe the horrors of her past weren't as... horrible, as she insinuated at. That maybe, his embellished statement to the boy at the base, was just that – embellished. It wasn't. She has indeed been through the kinds of things, a sane mind couldn't imagine. She had done, and seen done, the kind of things a sane mind couldn't imagine either. If anything, he might have undersold the metaphors he used.

"I'm glad you asked me, though." - her next words snapped him out of it, as he turned around.

"Why?!" - he growled, glaring at her. Her gaze was inexplicably kind.

"Because you deserve to know. I have always been honest with you, and I knew from the start that the day would come when you asked the - right - questions. And that I wouldn't have the heart to lie to you, or hide the details. You need to know, who you're in love with. Not some - half-idealised, watered-down version of me you thought might be there. No. Me. All of me. Things that were done to me, and things I've done. I could tell you were in denial. Even after what happened on the plane. Even after Ben confronted me about Namir's family."

Irwine reflexively opened his mouth to refute, that he wasn't in... denial... but the look in her eyes stopped the words unsaid. Those eyes. So lovely, even moreso now, lacking that harsh shade.

He shook his head.

"No white lies, huh? At all? No exaggerations?" - mirthlessly.

The woman stepped over to the side, to gaze at the sea.

"I respect you too much, for the first. And I do not exaggerate." - stating with conviction.

He turned again, to gaze down at the dark water below. Filled with mixed emotions. Letting out a long breath through his teeth, he spoke.

"That guy's family? His whole family?"

"Yes. His wife and two children."

"Other noncombatants?" - he pushed on.

"Yes."

"How many?"

Yelena's head turned fractionally, giving him a sideways look.

"Does it matter?" - but the way she said it, gave him his answer. A lot.

"Not really." - he murmured, his gaze still on the water.

"What else have they done to you?" - voice tightly controlled.

She pursed her lips, eyes taking on a detached aspect. Segmenting into a completely clinical, emotionless persona.

"I was raped as a matter of course, the first year of active duty. Two, sometimes three times a week. Down to once a week, during the second year. Compartmentalisation exercises devised by Namir, to get me desensitized, over the aspect of revenge, for what happened to me in Manchester. In the interest of uncompromised efficiency, given the amount of time I spent tracking down those men, instead of training for upcoming assignments. At least in his words..." - she paused there, making it clear what she thought of that notion.

"Now, I believe he just had a thing for me. Maybe a release from having to pretend, with his wife? Maybe he subconsciously was trying to... bind me to him? In case I ever recovered my memory of what he did to my family." - darkly, before she continued.

"It didn't stop me, of course. If anything, I just took more quality time with them, when I finally did hunt them down." - her lips twitched briefly into a vicious smirk, "But it was... repetitive. And inconvenient, when I had to abort, the few times I was actually impregnated."

"Was it him, all the time?" - Irwine growled, gritting his teeth.

"Most of the time. Not always. Barrett was inducted into the organisation, during my second year, and he was interested in... picking up the slack... when needed." - the woman's tone remained clinical and emotionless.

"They eventually stopped though. Barrett lost his lower jaw, one night when I didn't feel in the mood." - glancing briefly down at her right metal foot, as her eyes flashed with the memory of it, ripping off the big man's jawbone, in a shower of blood, following a devastating roundhouse.

"It took a while, to find him a suitable prosthetic replacement! For a big guy, he certainly had a glass jaw." - she chuckled humourlessly.

Irwine remained stone-faced.

"Yelena... I don't understand. How can you – talk about it so... so..." - he struggled with the right term to use.

"It worked." - she said simply, shrugging, as she looked him directly in the eyes.

"Compartmentalisation, I mean. The way I can segment my thoughts and feelings? Erect walls? There is a reason I can do that, Irwine. And there is also a reason I can talk about any of this. Without breaking down, like I did in the plane. When it comes to my family, I will not suppress it. They deserve my emotions. They are the reason I keep going. Their memory, and my duty to avenge them. I said then that I will never stop. And I will not." - she swallowed hard, as the briefest trace of vulnerability showed itself, just as quickly gone.

"When it comes to the things I went through, and things I've done..." - she paused.

"I do not have luxury of emotions. Not anymore. I already have to live with it. Every day. Feeling it is out of the question. I used to enjoy it. Relish every kill. I told you - like a junkie hankering for a fix. That and... well. Rape went both ways, in the following years. When I told you about intimately knowing Ben – let's just say it wasn't quite consentual on his part. He was a rookie, still on probation with the organisation. I was not. I took advantage of him. Him and some other men I... wanted. Being a commander of my own subdivision of Tyrant operations, had it's privileges."

Against his will, Irwine had to stifle a chuckle at that.

"Yeah... you did strike me as bit of a domme, given our... encounters so far."

"You don't want to know." - she smirked, briefly, before it vanished under an earnest expression.

"With you, it's so different, though. And... I'm sorry if I ever made you nervous. It's a defensive mechanism." - with a sweet smile.

The man rolled his eyes.

"No you're not sorry! I think you still enjoy that little - assertion aspect. Making guys nervous! But that's okay – makes digging past it, more fun." - with a wink, quickly turning into a scowl as he shook his head.

"Makes sense, though, given what you've just told me."

Yelena was silent, turning back to look at the sea.

"So now you know. Make of it what you will." - she murmured.

Another dozen moments passed in silence, before he spoke.

"Honestly... I'm not sure what to make of it. Ninth circle of Hell doesn't do it justice. I've been pissed off, now I'm just... I don't know what to think anymore. I want to say how sorry I am for what you've been through, but that's just words. So-" - before she cut him off.

"Thank you." - softly.

"But it don't make it right, Yelena. No matter what the circumstances were." - he continued, adamantly. "Blood vengeance I can understand. Hell... I might be feeling the same way. But killing for sport?! Following orders is one thing. Bad enough, given what they were, but... that's neither here nor there. But casual murder's different. You're after payback for your loved ones? How many other folks could say the same, about what you've done to theirs? And for what?! For kicks? 'Cause you felt like it? Not enough bloodbath on regular jobs?"

She didn't answer. But glancing at her, the man could see her swallow, hard.

"Wasn't there ANY other way, to deal with it, other then kill innocent people?" - he pressed her, tone inexorably icy.

Yelena's grip on the railing went white with pressure, as she shuddered, a low, keening sound coming from her throat.

"Think about that." - he finished quietly, as he turned to leave.

"Am I a monster?!" - the woman gasped, grabbing his hand with both of hers, almost – hanging onto him, an unbelievable undertone of pleading in her voice. All the mental barriers seemed to be collapsing, under the weight of that simple question.

He paused, feeling a little... guilty... for being so harsh. Struck by how much she cared, what he thought of her. Remembering his thoughts back in her apartment, how he had no right to judge her. Remembering her sweet smile in the car, telling him she loved him. Also remembering his... violently emphasised... assertion to the boy at the base, how he had no right to judge her either. Remembering the look she gave him, after pulling him into that plane and saving his life. Remembering her emotional collapse, in Chow's office, not long after. The fact that she trusted him that much. But most of all... remembering the way he slowly fell for her, during those couple of weeks preceeding the meeting under the bridge, ever since they first ran into each-other. How different she seemed to be, from the intel briefing he was given. How much more human, defying expectations.

Nothing's changed! All she did was tell you the truth!

He let out a long, shuddering sigh, suddenly ashamed, his expression softening as he reached up to wipe a sudden tear in his eye. She was right on the money. He was in denial, all this time. Seeing what he wanted to see, not what was there. But it didn't matter. What was also there, was a broken soul desperately in need of his love. Shaking his head, he turned back to face her.

"No, you're not! Not anymore, at least. Not if you can ask that question and care about what answer you get. Not if you feel the way you do right now, about it." - he pulled her into a tight hug with his good arm.

She collapsed against him, racked with sobs, clinging to him like there was no tomorrow, his shoulder already wet with her tears. This time, there wasn't even an effort to keep any of it bottled up. No accompanying fury or rage, no wows of icy retribution. Just an outpour of pure, unfettered grief that suddenly had a way out, past all the layers of hardened emotional armour she sealed it under, for so long.

Waves, upon waves of it.

"You're not a monster, Yelena..." - he whispered in her ear, over and over again. His own eyes sparkling with tears, as well.

THE END

(to be continued in: Deus Ex – Twelve Kings of Yore)