section7mfu | Weight of the World - Short Affair 2/15 (Reply)

Prompts: forgive, white
Words: 693

………

He was defiant, a man who wouldn't go down easily no matter the opposition. Napoleon Solo felt exhausted from the effort of trying to convince his partner to give up his resistance to the mission at hand. They needed to speak to the priest inside Saint Bonaventura's Catholic Church, and the old man only spoke Polish. That meant Illya was the agent needed for this particular job, leaving Solo to stand guard outside the confessional.

"I am not going inside of that box." Illya was being petulant, something he reverted to whenever logic was not on his side.

"It's a mission Illya, you don't have a choice. Now get in there and play the part of a penitent sinner and try to get the old priest to talk to you. Now!"

"Very well, just remember that next time you will be the sacrificial lamb."

And with that and a huff of disapproval the Russian slid behind the slender door to the confessional booth and waited for the priest to open the grid between them. A card with the order of the sacraments was posted as well as several prayers. Illya was unfamiliar with any of it, his upbringing in the Soviet Union a barrier to any type of spiritual training.

He had his memories however, the times when his babushka had tried to instill in him some of her beliefs. And she had, because the young boy had been anxious and attentive, interested to know and understand about a Being who could command light and darkness with a word, create out of nothingness and surround Illya with love and family.

That had been so long ago. None of it existed any longer, his family was gone and … Enough.

"Father forgive me for I have sinned. It has been …' Illya quickly did the math and found it had been… " twenty years since my last confession."

The old priest could just see the outline of the young man's face. He didn't look like a sinner, but then one could never tell by appearances alone. He continued on, prompting the response that would lead to forgiveness and advice for remaining free of sin.

Illya found himself actually giving into the process, felt a sense of relief as he let go of what he had thought was finished; the killing, and the manipulation of innocents while espousing the laws of right and justice. As Napoleon waited outside, his partner laid bare his soul until the remnants of his sin were no more.

The priest, Father Lazlo, heard and recited back to the young man what he needed to hear before confronting him with the information he possessed.

"You are the agent from the U.N.C.L.E., are you not?" That made Illya start for a moment. How had he known?

''I am, yes… How did you know?" And then the evidence betrayed him.

"My son, you have told me so much in such a little bit of time. I have been expecting someone from your organization, but I imagine you had no intention of falling prey to the Lord's scrutiny."

Illya shook his head in both amusement and consternation. The white light of God's interrogation had caught him unaware. This priest would be a valuable addition to the network of UNCLE watchers who held the ropes for those in the field. These were the ones who would pull you back when the abyss threatened to swallow you.

"I am not a believer, Father, not in the sense you know. But thank you for listening. I do believe to unburden one's soul is of great value. And now, what do you have for us?"

When Illya stepped out of the confessional and back into the church, Napoleon was scanning the ancient room. There was no sign of a threat here, not today.

"Ah, there you are. I take it you have what we came here for." A slight nod indicated yes, but the blond was wordless as he strode past his partner.

Napoleon noted something about his friend, but darned if he could say just what it was that made Illya seem to be walking with less weight in his steps.