section7mfu | When Plans Don't Go To Plan

I'm having to post in two parts due to length.

llya's carefully made plans don't quite go right!

Link to Part Thirteen (A): http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/252749.html

Part Thirteen (B) Below The Cut.

plans-ch13

Illya woke the next morning, checking on Becca before he headed off to the locker room to shower and change. Just as he finished he received a call to go to Waverly’s office and ran into his partner who was headed there himself. Dr. Towers was there already.

“Ah, Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin, please sit. Dr. Towers is here to update you on Miss Andrews condition. I know both of you are close to her, especially you, Mr. Kuryakin.”

Napoleon looked to his partner and saw him blush slightly while trying to avoid eye contact.

“Thank you, Sir. She does mean a lot to me.”

“I have called you here as we need to discuss Miss Andrews condition. Dr. Towers, if you please?”

“Thank you Mr. Waverly. As you know, gentlemen, it has been well over three weeks since Miss Andrews was hurt.

Her internal injuries are healing and though she is stable, we’d hoped she would have regained consciousness by now. I’m afraid that with the continued medical care she needs, we can’t keep her here for much longer, we’re simply not set up for long term care.”

Napoleon looked to Illya, seeing his jaw harden, and knowing him well enough, he knew it was a sign he was becoming angry. He had a pretty good idea what was most likely going through his partner’s mind, and he spoke out before Illya could speak up.

“Sir, please, surely it would be better if she stays here, with the people she knows around her. Maybe familiarity will bring her back.”

“That’s what we had hoped, but there’s no sign of her coming out from her coma and as I’ve said, we’re just not set up for the kind of long term care she's going to need.”

Mr. Waverly now spoke.

“I am afraid that if Miss Andrews does not show any signs of awakening by the end of the week, we will have no choice but to move her to our facility in upstate New York.” He looked to Illya. “I know how you feel Mr. Kuryakin, but this is my final word on this matter. I assure you, she will receive the finest care.”

Illya was crestfallen, “Yes, Sir. I do not like it, but I understand.”

The two agents left the office, Napoleon reached out, putting his hand his friends shoulder to comfort him.

“I’m sorry Illya, but it looks like my luck’s not with us this time.”

“It is no fault of yours, there is no need for you to be sorry. I keep thinking; maybe I did wrong, saving her in Killeagy. I let my personal feelings get in the way.” He replied solemnly, stopping to look at his partner, “but you know what she means to me. I could not let her go without trying.”

“I know, tovarisch. I know how happy you have been since you met her, well since you began to like her, anyway.”

“Mmm, it was not quite love at first sight, was it?” He smiled. “I am going to Medical to speak with Dr. Towers.”

“If you think it will do any good. Do you want me to come along?”

“No, I will be fine, I just need to discuss something with him.”

“You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

“Da, thank you. You are a good friend, Napoleon.”

“I’ll always have your back, tovarisch.”

They parted company and Illya stopped by Rebecca's room before heading off to speak to Towers.

“You need to wake up now Rebecca, zavetnyĭ,” He whispered as he kissed her.

He found Dr. Towers in his office.

“Ah, Mr. Kuryakin, please sit down. I presume you wish to talk to me about Miss Andrews.”

“Yes, I want to know what I can do to try and bring Rebecca out of her coma.”

“There’s not much you can do Mr. Kuryakin. It’s mainly down to her. We've tried everything we could think of, but without success. I just don't know what else to do.”

He nodded slowly. "I would like to thank you, for all you have done, Doctor."

Illya left, feeling like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. Returning to Rebecca's room, he took his customary seat next to her.

His shoulders slumped as the realization hit him that after everything they had been through, he might still lose her, not by succumbing to her injuries; but by being sent to a care facility where she would just be another patient, not a person who was loved and cared for by those who knew her.

Why wouldn't she come out from the coma? Physically, the doctor said he couldn't find anything wrong with her that would prevent her from returning.

Was she punishing him for making her go through this?

He thought, again, maybe he was wrong in what he did, and wondered how he might feel if it had been the other way round.

Illya began to feel angry with himself, these thoughts churning around and spiraling out of proportion.

"Rebecca, you have to wake up, if you do not they are going to take you away."

His voice rose in intensity, feeling the pent up emotions and frustration being released from his body.

"Is that what you really want? To be looked after by people who do not know you?" he said angrily.

Once it started, it was hard to stop, he wasn't normally an emotional person, but somehow floodgates had been opened.

"Please, just open your eyes, squeeze my hand, anything, then they will let you stay." He shouted in frustration.

Suddenly, the heart monitor's rhythm changed,

Wherever this was, she felt safe, but then being with her father would always make her feel secure. It was a warm summer day and she was sat under a huge, old oak tree, snuggled in the arms of the older man.

"I love you daddy and I've missed you so much."

"I love you too Becca, and I always will. Remember that."

"I will. The last time we were all together, you, Mum, me and Phillip, we spent the afternoon under a tree just like this, before you...."

"Yes, It’s a memory I’ve always treasured. But you must not stay, you’ve been here with me too long already, it’s not yet time for you."

"But it's so nice to be here with you again. I want to stay."

"Rebecca, sweetheart, I have watched you grow up and follow in my footsteps. Ours is not an easy life, it’s even harder to find someone with whom you can spend what time we do have. I’ve seen how happy you and Illya are together, you are true soulmates. It is he that needs you, not me. Go back to him."

"I do love him Daddy and I know he loves me, but I'm frightened if I go back, I won't be able to recover from those injuries. Then what good would I be? I don't want to be a burden to him, he doesn't deserve that."

"Becca, I know you more than you know yourself. You are a strong person and if anyone can come through this and out the other side, you can. Don't give up hope, you’ll get all the support you need from those around you."

"I know you're right. I love you daddy."

"Ditto." He replied with a smile, making her laugh as she remembered how he would say that to her."Goodbye sweetheart."

The summer scene faded away to blackness and she could hear another familiar voice speaking to her. Slowly she returned a squeeze she felt on her hand and tried to prise her eyes open.

Illya had immediately hit the call button as soon as the heart monitor registered a change, Dr. Towers had gone off duty and it was Dr. Hogarth who came to see what the problem was.

"Something seems to be happening, and she just squeezed my hand."

The doctor shone his light in her eyes and checked the rest of her vitals.

"Her pupils are responding, and something certainly seems to be occurring. Whatever you were doing, keep doing it."

"Actually, I was.... erm, well, I was berating her for not coming back." Illya replied sheepishly.

"Well, keep doing it, it's obviously working."

"Becca, please do it again, squeeze my hand. Do it while the doctor is here so he can see, then you will not be taken away."

A light squeeze followed.

"Good, I knew you could do it. Now open your eyes, I want to see them again. It has been too long, moya lyubov."

He was beginning to think he would never see those soft hazel brown eyes look at him again, but they were slowly revealed under heavy lids. A tear tracked down his cheek as he caressed her face with his hand, wiping the wetness from her own cheek.

"Welcome back Becca," his voice full of relief and love.

"Am I always going to have to speak to you firmly before you listen to me?" He tried lightening the intense atmosphere contained within the room.

"Good to see you with us again Miss Andrews. You have had us all concerned," Dr. Hogarth added.

The eyes that looked back registered confusion, she couldn't focus properly and began to feel panic set in.

"Rebecca, it is alright, calm down, you are safe here in New York." Illya held her hand and stroked her hair in an attempt to soothe her.

"Shhh, relax, I am here and I am not going anywhere."

Gradually, Becca started to remember where she was, she'd been dreaming she was with her father, but was it a dream? It seemed too real; she could still feel his touch, breathe in his scent and hear his laughter.

"Sweetheart, you are where you belong, be happy, my precious daughter."

"Daddy, I will miss you." She tried to say, but words wouldn't come out, something was in her throat and she started to cough.

"She's fighting the ventilator, we need to remove it. Where the hell does she get her strength from?" Dr. Hogarth said.

"Miss Andrews look at me. I need you to listen."

Hazy, unfocused brown eyes slowly looked in his direction.

"We are going to remove the tube in your throat. Do you understand? Blink once for no, twice for yes."

She closed her eyes twice.

"Good, when I say, I need you to cough, do you follow me?"

Two blinks.

"Okay, on three. One, two, three."

The doctor pulled the tube out as Rebecca coughed weakly, immediately an oxygen mask was placed over her nose and mouth to aid her breathing.

"You're a medical miracle Miss Andrews, You must have a guardian angel helping you every step of the way."

She closed her eyes and thought 'Thank you, Daddy'.

"Rest now, I know you are tired, vozlyublennyy."

Illya stayed by her bedside as she slept, joy in his heart that she had come back, though he knew there was a long way to go.

The next time Rebecca woke up, she was less agitated and was focusing better. After a few more days, she could move her head and tracked visitors and staff as they moved around her room, her eyes lighting up when she recognized her Russian.

"Good afternoon zavetnyĭ, you are looking better."

Suddenly he smiled as Becca shakily reached a hand out to him. He took it and held tightly, caressing the back of it with his thumb.

"That is a good sign, it will not be long before we will have you on your feet. Knowing you, the nurses will soon have a hard time keeping you in bed. I love you so much Rebecca."

"I love... you too... Illya." She croaked back. The first words she'd been able to speak in a long time and it brought a tear to his eyes.

"I know you do, moya lyubov. Now get some rest, two milestones in one day is a big achievement."

Over the next several days, she regained strength and her speech improved considerably, though she struggled with a few longer words. Things were finally looking up.

When Plans Don't Go To Plan - Part Thirteen (B)

no subject

no subject