Stranger Than Fiction - Conclusion

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4

Thanks to mrua7 for her collaboration in this haunting tale ;)

“Îmi pare rău că trebuie să facă acest lucru, dar este o chestiune de supraviețuire. Trebuie să înțelegi un astfel de lucru.‘ Illya parroted back the same thing she had said before attempting to take his blood.

“I object to donating blood without going through proper channels.”

She whimpered a pitiful reply and dropped the gun under his strong grip.  Napoleon picked up the Makarov, turning it over in his hands before pocketing the weapon.

“At least we know we’re dealing with a human criminal and not some ethereal wisp of smoke.  Tell me, why this spree of blood letting Miss...?”

The woman was pale, and now she slumped onto Illya’s bed, his hand still on her wrist.

“Yelena Apostu.”  That was all she uttered before breaking down in torrent of sobs that threatened to weaken the resolve of the men in the room.  April was not so easily affected however, and she demanded a better explanation from Yelena than merely her name.

“He asked you why, Yelena.  Why have you been attacking people and stealing their blood?”  April realized the woman was beautiful, in spite of the fake teeth she still had in her mouth.  Napoleon gingerly demanded those now, and Yelena surrendered them.

Illya had released her from the iron grip, sure now that his fellow agents would not allow her to escape.

“You said it was a matter of survival, what did you mean by that?”  The desperation in her actions was clear, the reason still unknown.

“I am ... in my family there is a blood disease that has been present for generations.  According to all that I can find out about it, the only cure lies in the blood of others who have the same Slavic heritage, and are B negative.”  Yelena’s English bore little accent, something that piqued Napoleon’s interest.

“You yourself are not from Romania though, at least your accent doesn’t sound Romanian.”  The others had also noticed her perfectly accented speech.

“I was brought here as a child, my parents were in search of a cure when it was discovered I carried the disease.  I have spent my life pursuing what remains so elusive...”  Illya’s eyes narrowed in recognition now of her name.

“You are Dr. Yelena Apostu, your research has been published in numerous journals.  I do not understand why you have taken this illicit and dangerous  course of action.”

Now the room was silenced by Illya’s revelation of her identity.  Was she truly without any other recourse, or did her disease cast her into a deeper and more troubling symptom: lunacy?

“I am not a monster, although my actions must say otherwise.  I was desperate, my time is running out and now... ‘ Her eyes filled with tears as she contemplated exposing her most precious secret.

“My child has the disease.  If I cannot find a blood borne antidote to this then my daughter will die.’ Yelena turned to look directly at Illya.

“You are the only one whose blood seemed to make a difference.  I am so sorry, but I would do anything to save my child.  Anything.”

That confession affected the Russian agent, and in spite of what he had endured from this woman, he determined to help her if it were possible to do so.

Napoleon saw the change in Illya’s countenance, the softening of his resolve to not have sympathy.

“Yelena, no one has died.  There will be, must be some sort of justice served for your crime.  However, I believe we might be able to help you.”

With those words the mood of the room changed as did the lives of Yelena and her daughter, Anastasia.  UNCLE scientists went to work on the case, utilizing blood samples from Illya and the two female subjects.  Yelena was forced to surrender her medical license and sentenced to serve time for her crimes against those innocent victims.

Alexander Waverly, although not one to circumvent justice, was inclined to not waste the considerable talents of someone like Yelena Apostu.  Her acts had been those of a desperate woman; a mother whose only recourse seemed to be at the expense of others.  Still, as Napoleon had pointed out, no one had died and UNCLE, in a magnanimous act that would not be often repeated, had paid the damages incurred by hospital bills and subsequent psychiatric treatment.

Yelena would not be on display, but rather allowed to work within the confines of another UNCLE facility where she was permitted to raise her daughter and live a life not completely devoid of personal freedoms.

Illya was pleased when at last results indicated a cure had indeed been found, glad that he had relented to the needs of someone whose malady was a wicked, if capricious act of nature.

“I have heard from Yelena, and she is confident that the treatments are beginning to show positive results for her and for Anastasia.”  He was sharing the news with the other three who had been witness to that bizarre night in the hospital.  April, in spite of her initial reserve, had warmed to both mother and daughter and wished them well in life.

“I hope they can be happy, and healthy.  I must admit, she was acting out what any mother might do in her situation, with her knowledge of what was needed.  I don’t condone it, but I think I understand.”  April meant it, and Mark agreed with a nod of his head.

Napoleon was silent, still considering that moment when he knew Illya would give more blood in order to help out the ailing Yelena.  He wondered if the Russian knew more about all of it than he had let on.

Illya did know about such things, about the real nature of the disease.  It was another secret that only he and the very trustworthy scientists who had worked on this project would ever truly understand.

At least he hoped so.


The End... Happy Halloween

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Evil laugh. Well we need to do something....except lets see if we can get some others involved? Not that I don't want just you and me writing it... Just a thought.

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

I'm not going to make any hard and fast promises yet, but I may join in :-) I just had too much going one for this one.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Yay, we have a little time to wind down from Halloween. We'll figure something out, we always do.