Chapter Text
“Ugh, you’re soaking wet.”
Gaby smiled before shaking her hair in Illya’s half-asleep face. Leaning back, she tightened her knees around his chest.
Illya tried pulling the covers up and over his head, but Gaby yanked them back down and stretched herself across him. He received a face full of hair smelling of warm coconut as she wrapped her arms around him, her skin hot and smooth from the shower.
Gaby kissed him lazily before crawling off to go find her skirt. Braiding her hair as she searched, she grinned when Illya groaned from underneath the covers.
“What time is it?” he asked groggily.
Finally pulling her skirt out of a pile of clothes, Gaby slid it on and zipped it up. Bobby-pinning some loose hair, she uncovered the left heel of her favorite pair of pumps. Now the problem was finding the other in her mess of an apartment.
She glanced at her watch and answered him, “Almost 5:30.”
“Fuck,” Illya moaned before moving farther under the covers.
“Have you seen my other heel?” Gaby rifled through her pile of clean clothes and then moved to the dirty pile. At this rate, she was going to be late.
Peeking out from under the blankets, Illya sighed, “It wasn’t in the first pile?”
“Ha ha, so funny. I’m serious Illya, I’m going to be late.”
“Why does a coffee shop need to open at 6:00 anyway?”
Gaby huffed out a breath as she found the missing heel, “We have to be open for the people going to work at a normal time. I make most of my tips in the morning, and I can guarantee that Mrs. Bailey will be very angry if she doesn’t get her non-fat, triple shot, sugar-free caramel mocha. Which only I’m willing to make.”
Illya grunted sleepily as Gaby ran out to her kitchen and grabbed a bagel. With the bagel in her mouth, she threw on a jacket and scarf and made her way back to her small bedroom. Illya was sitting up, his hair disheveled and his face just as confused. Ignoring him, Gaby grabbed the duffel bag near the bathroom. Checking to make sure her workout clothes and gloves were in it, she zipped it close and pulled it onto her shoulder.
Juggling her phone and bagel, Gaby leaned across the bed and pecked Illya’s lips, “Gotta go. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Before she could turn away, Illya pulled her back and kissed her until she was out of breath. Her head spun when she leaned away and Illya’s warm hands cupped her neck.
Flustered, Gaby tried to order her thoughts, “I can’t be late today.”
Kissing her again, Illya begged with his blue eyes.
Gaby almost gave in but finally managed to distance herself from him, “Nope. If I’m late then I have to stay later at work and then Waverly makes me do pushups and I hate pushups.”
Just like every other time Gaby mentioned Waverly, Illya’s eyes turned to ice and his jaw tightened.
Gaby nearly broke her ankle on another shoe as she stepped away from him, “Once again, don’t do anything stupid.”
And with those words, she took one last look at him and left. This time she made sure to ingrain everything she had learned about him in the last couple months. Just in case he disappeared again.
After a long day of complicated coffee orders and then extra pushups from Waverly for being 10 minutes late, Gaby returned to her apartment that evening and without taking in her surroundings, she fell onto the couch. Her arms hung limply at her sides and her split lip throbbed where a young boy had hit her on accident. It was a successful day though. The tip jar had been overflowing before noon and Waverly had smiled at her when she won her first match. She couldn’t describe the pride she had felt.
Gaby was smiling to herself, her eyes shut quietly, when a pair of hands began to unbutton her jacket.
“Tough day?” Illya’s voice was low.
Humming a yes, Gaby followed the sound of his voice and blindly reached her hands up to his face. Expecting his stubble and soft lips, she was shocked to feel a lump forming at the corner of his mouth. Whipping her eyes open, Gaby sat up and stared at Illya. He looked perfectly normal with his tie loose around his neck and his hair brushed, but the edge of his mouth was bruising and red.
Gaby opened her mouth, poisonous words prepared, but Illya cut her off, “Some guys were trying to mug a kid on my way to work today. It got a little rough.”
Relaxing, Gaby nodded before pointing at her own lip, “We’re a matching set.”
Ignoring her teasing smile, Illya stood up, his expression stony, and walked into the kitchen. Rolling her eyes, Gaby got up to follow him and stopped abruptly as she looked around her apartment. The piles of clothes and shoes were organized nicely in her closet and the empty bottles of vodka and loose condoms had been put away. The kitchen was spotless and without having to look, Gaby was sure that the bathroom would look just as clean.
Turning to Illya, Gaby let out a short laugh, “Did you do this?”
Shrugging, he didn’t respond. His eyes were still troubled.
Gaby crossed her arms, “Thank you, but I’m still going to that gym whether you clean my apartment or not.”
Illya stuck his hands into the pockets of his dark pants, “You shouldn’t trust Waverly.”
“Why?” Gaby scoffed, “You’ve told me that multiple times but still you have no reason for it.”
“Why can’t you just trust me?” Illya questioned, his shoulders rising.
Gaby tried to hold it in, but it had been waiting to come out for months, “Because you left me? Don’t you remember? I’ve been trying so fucking hard for these past months, but this whole secret thing about Waverly is not helping!”
“It’s not a secret! You know that he kicked me and Napoleon out, just because of some bruises!”
Stepping forward, Gaby wished she had her heels on so she didn’t have to look up as much, “Bruises? You always had broken or cracked ribs and cuts needing stitches. And I’ll never forget that god damn knife wound.”
Illya stood up straighter, “And Waverly thought that kicking us out would help. Brilliant idea. We had nowhere else to go.”
Holding in her frustration, Gaby answered calmly, “You had me.”
Illya swallowed and suddenly his anger was gone, “I know.”
Moving to him, Gaby reached up and pressed her hand to his cheek, “I’m not going anywhere. I just…I need this.”
“If it’s protection you need then you have me. There’s no need for Waverly’s training,” he murmured back.
Gaby stepped away, “No, I have to defend myself. You have to understand that. I’m with you no matter what, but I’m also my own person. I need the comfort of knowing that if I’m ever alone again then I will survive.”
Illya nodded slowly before smirking, “With the mess you live in, I’m surprised you’ve survived this long.”
Smacking his arm, Gaby replied lightly, “Since when are you a neat freak?”
“When you live with Napoleon, you kind of end up being one,” Illya relaxed against the counter.
Gaby smiled before looking around her apartment one more time. Outside the windows, snow was beginning to fall and the city lights were reflecting off the flakes. Turning back to Illya, she bit her lip and ignored the sting of her cut reopening.
Starting out slow, Gaby mumbled, “What if…I mean if you want…you move in with me?”
Illya’s hands came out of his pockets as he stared at Gaby.
Feeling her face heat up, Gaby began to stammer, “You’re here most nights anyway and I’m sure Napoleon wants his bachelor pad back-”
Illya quickly shut her up with a kiss. When he pulled away, he gave a quick nod before diving back in. Gaby laughed into his mouth as he lifted her onto the counter. She removed his tie hurriedly and began to undo the buttons on his shirt. After his shirt hit the ground, he pressed his mouth back against hers, a smile stretched across his face.
This time, he was the one massaging out all the knots and kinks in her body.
It was the middle of December and Gaby was terribly sick. She had turned down all of Illya’s offers to stay home with her, but she finally agreed to him coming home for lunch in order to check up on her.
Ever since he moved in, he had been extra loving and quite different from the man Gaby had first met. She was not complaining, but at times she felt guilty for missing the days when she took care of him, not the other way around. Either way, Gaby was happy to have him worry so much over a simple bout of the flu.
So honoring his word, Illya appeared at lunch with soup and medicine for her. However, with strong words, Gaby insisted on him leaving before catching the sickness. Which he countered with an explanation on his Russian immune system and how it isn’t weak enough to get the flu. Despite that, Gaby still managed to get him to leave quickly and she ended up in her bed with Netflix running and blankets piled on top of her.
It was growing dark when Gaby received a text from Illya saying he was going to be coming home late. The news pleased her as she clicked the next episode of a show she had been watching nonstop all day.
When Gaby crawled out of her nest of blankets for the first time in hours, it was late in the evening. She had just shuffled into the kitchen to make herself some tea when deafening knocks pounded on her front door. Dropping her mug, Gaby jumped back as it shattered on the floor.
The knocks sounded again and this time a voice shouted, “KURYAKIN! I know you are in there! I saw you and that girl come in here! I never would’ve guessed you were fucking her!”
Gaby’s heart hammered in her chest as she recognized the voice belonging to Vinciguerra. Thinking of her training, she was moving to the door when she remembered. She remembered her bones aching from the beating she received from him. She recalled the sound of her nose breaking, the metallic flavor of her blood, and the bruises lining her body like constellations. Even with months of training, Gaby wasn’t sure she could hold her own against him, especially in her weakened state. At that thought, fear dropped into her stomach and she hated herself as she began to shake.
“Come on! Where have you been? Too scared to face me? If you don’t come out, I’m coming in!” Vinciguerra pounded on the door.
Panicking, Gaby ran to her bedroom and began digging through the blankets looking for her phone. Once she had a hold of it, she immediately called Illya’s number and tried to block out the shouted threats and booming knocks.
He picked up after a few rings, “Hey, I’m busy. Can I call you back?”
Gaby leaped into the bathroom and shut the door before answering frantically, “Illya, Vinciguerra is at the apartment. He’s yelling and threatening to break down the door.”
Illya’s voice grew serious fast, “What? Hide. I’m coming over right now.”
“No no! Don’t get involved. I’m going to call the police,” Gaby whispered.
“Do not do that. The fight club is illegal and we’ll be in just as much trouble. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
He hung up and Gaby’s hands shook as she sat in the bathtub, listening to sounds at her front door. It felt like an eternity before it grew quiet.
Taking a deep breath, Gaby stood up and opened the bathroom door. Grabbing the baseball bat from beside her bed, she stepped out into the living room and found the front door still locked. Moving cautiously toward it, she nearly had a heart attack when the door rattled and flew open. Gaby had the bat raised above her when Illya stepped through, his chest heaving from running. When his eyes connected with hers, Gaby lowered the bat and Illya moved to her instantly, his arms around her in a second. Letting him hold her, Gaby breathed in his cologne and felt a crippling helplessness settle in her bones.
She had just taken a shaky breath when she noticed Illya’s silent demeanor. Looking up at his face, she watched him clench his jaw. She could feel his hands trembling on her hips and before she could say anything, he had turned from her and marched to the front door.
Remembering those same eyes from the night he left her, Gaby choked out, “Illya.”
Illya paused at the door, his suit looking more rumpled than it should. Gaby could see his fingers tapping against the wood.
Biting her lip to keep it from quivering, Gaby whispered, “Please. Don’t go.”
Illya looked at her and his eyes returned to their regular calm appearance. His hands still shivered, but it was more controlled.
Gaby felt like the world sat on her shoulders as he watched her, “I couldn’t do it. I’ve trained for months so I would never feel like this again and yet here I am. I couldn’t even think straight. I cowered in that god damn bathroom.”
Gaby dropped the bat and before it could hit the ground, Illya was back in front of her.
Illya’s voice was deeper than usual, “You’re not weak.”
“What happens when you leave? And I’m alone again? I’ll never be able to take care of myself,” Gaby shook her head.
Placing his hands on Gaby’s face, Illya muttered seriously, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Gaby began to shake her head and Illya moved closer, “God damn it Gaby, listen to me. I’m not going to leave you.”
When she looked into his eyes, Gaby believed him.
It was the first time Gaby had someone to share the holidays with. She had spent years by herself, trying to find her way in New York, but Illya easily broke her depressing holiday routine. The usual bottles of wine and takeout Chinese food in her fridge were replaced with home cooked meals. A little tree sat in the corner and strings of lights stretched across the ceiling. It was more than Gaby thought she deserved.
So when the week of Christmas came up, Gaby was surprised to find herself singing to Christmas music as she prepared for Napoleon’s holiday party. Turning up the music, Gaby ignored Illya’s complaints about the noise before climbing into the shower.
She had barely been under the water for a couple minutes when Illya stepped into the shower with her. Testing the water with a hand, Illya smiled as he joined her under the stream. He didn’t speak before kissing her slowly, his hands and mouth needy but patient.
Sighing, Gaby traced the curve of his back and shoulders, memorizing the muscles and scars lining them. She could remember when his body was littered with bruises and she had to slide her hands delicately over him, but now she could dig her nails in without worrying about reopening a wound.
So as Illya lifted her against the wall, Gaby held on tightly and lowered her head to leave marks along his neck. She never got her chance as Illya’s phone began to ring out in the bedroom.
Gaby growled into Illya’s neck, “I swear to god if that is your boss calling you in...”
Illya’s voice was low, “Just ignore it.”
Continuing his kisses along her chest, Illya dipped his fingers in between Gaby’s thighs, eliciting a moan from her as the phone quieted.
Gaby moved her mouth on Illya’s hurriedly and tightened her legs around his waist when the phone began ringing again.
Dropping her arms, Gaby yanked on Illya’s lips once more before he let her down. Illya groaned angrily as he climbed out of the shower and turned off the Christmas music. Gaby immediately changed to cold water in order to chill her heated body as she listened to Illya pick up the phone. His Russian accent seemed more prominent than usual as he spoke.
“Hello…yes…yes…I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Gaby frowned before peeking out from behind the shower curtain and finding Illya standing frozen, his boxers pulled on hastily over his dripping body.
“What’s going on?” Gaby asked curiously.
Illya lowered his phone and ended the call before turning to her, his face distraught, “It’s Napoleon.”
Gaby had no idea she could dress so quickly as her and Illya arrived at the hospital across town in a half an hour. Hurried words were exchanged with the receptionist and Gaby chased after Illya as he rushed to a specified room.
Arriving at the room, Illya ignored the nurse and immediately moved to the bed where Napoleon was unconscious.
Gaby trailed behind him and watched as he stood next to the bed. Napoleon’s face was black and blue and oxygen was being fed to him through tubes. His heart rate monitor beeped in a slow tempo, making the scene more surreal. Illya frowned at Napoleon’s unconscious face, his eyes upset.
Feeling her breath get caught in her chest, Gaby stepped out of the room and turned her back. Breathing through her nose, she moved to the small reception area where another man was already speaking to the nurse. As Gaby came closer, she began to recognize the voice.
Cutting into the conversation, Gaby touched the man’s elbow and asked, “Waverly?”
Sure enough, Waverly turned to her, his eyes dark with worry, “Oh Gaby, why are you here?”
“Napoleon,” Gaby answered easily.
Waverly turned to her, an enlightened expression on his face, “So I was right. You and Illya?”
Gaby shifted on her feet, “It doesn’t matter. Illya is here. You should talk to him.”
“He won’t want to see me. I should go anyway.”
Gaby held her hand out in front of him, “No, you have to talk to Illya and figure this mess out. Why are you here anyway?”
Waverly adjusted his glasses before replying, “I found him.”
“What happened?” Gaby moved closer to him, her voice low.
“When I found him, he was beaten half to death…broken ribs, collapsed lung. I knew it was that damn club. He was only able to tell me a name,” Waverly paused and glanced behind Gaby, “He said Alexander. That’s it.”
Gaby frowned. She didn’t know the name. Looking at Waverly, she followed his troubled gaze to Napoleon’s room where Illya stood in the doorway. As she watched, his entire demeanor changed. She knew the signs of his episodes that seemed to be happening more and more often. Before she could ask him about the name, he rushed from the room to the stairwell, ignoring the warnings from the nurses. Gaby glanced at Waverly before taking off after him, her legs running double the distance of Illya’s long strides.
Completely out of breath, Gaby finally caught up to him in the main lobby of the building and shouted, “Where are you going?”
Illya yelled over his shoulder angrily, “Vinciguerra!”
Trying to glue everything together, Gaby slowly connected the two names. She didn’t waste a second before sprinting back to Napoleon’s room. Waverly stood silently in the room, his eyes glued to the floor.
She heaved out the question between breaths, “Where did you find him?”
Waverly muttered, “I’m not going to tell you.”
Gaby curled her hands into fists, “Grow the fuck up, Waverly. I need to know. Illya is going there and I’m the only one who can keep him from getting killed. Tell. Me.”
He finally met Gaby’s glare, “I’m sure Illya can handle himself.”
Her frustration rose, “I know he can, but so could Napoleon and look where he is. Now tell me.”
Waverly let out a deep breath, “Napoleon’s apartment.”
Gaby sighed in relief. Waverly shook his head, “He won’t be there. I’m betting he’s with the club.”
Feeling her heart drop, Gaby frowned, “I don’t know where they’re meeting.”
Waverly mumbled, “The old theater. I know their whole rotation. Tonight, they’re at the old theater.”
Not questioning why Waverly knew the location, Gaby ran out of the hospital and hailed a cab. Her leg jiggled nervously during the entire ride and she was almost tempted to throw the driver out with how slow he was driving. Her mind circulated around images of lllya lying in the bed next to Napoleon. Another Christmas spent alone. She wouldn’t be able to stand it.
When the driver finally pulled up to the theater, Gaby quickly handed him money and leaped out into the cold. She found the propped door and followed the raised voices, her heart pounding.
Unlike before, there were no guards and the cheers seemed unbearably loud. Making her way into the crowded room, Gaby shoved through the people and jumped for a better view. After smacking men out of the way, she was completely out of breath by the time she reached the clearing in the middle.
Feeling her chest tighten, Gaby recognized Vinciguerra as Illya slammed his fists into him. She felt an odd feeling of joy at the sight before she noticed Illya’s heaving chest and troubled expression. When she imagined him fighting, she pictured him with a blank but confident look, but this was entirely different. There was something broken about the way he held his shoulders and the way his hands seemed to move on their own.
The scene sent shivers down Gaby’s spine and fear trickled into her chest. She couldn’t watch anymore.
Trying to push a man out of her way, Gaby managed to shout, “Illya!”
For a second, Illya paused in his punches and Vinciguerra took advantage of it. He quickly took the upper hand in the fight as Illya hit the ground. His fists were a blur as they hit Illya relentlessly. Illya’s head smacked the ground a couple times and Gaby caught her breath each time.
Gaby watched one, two, three kicks to Illya’s body before she finally woke herself up and shoved her way into the clearing. Vinciguerra looked up right as she stepped over Illya and slammed her fist into his jaw.
In a split second, the cheers fell to background noise as Gaby set her feet and nailed him with another punch. Compared to last time, she felt all of her training reside in her body. When Vinciguerra threw a punch at her, she easily avoided it and countered with a solid hit to his gut. He was able to connect a few of his punches, but Gaby had been used to being hit. She had learned to take a punch and the pain only increased her adrenaline. For a split second, she understood why Napoleon and Illya did it. Every time her knuckles slide across his body, she felt a jolt of pride in herself. But when her foot brushed up against Illya’s body, the feeling was instantly gone. This way of life caused more pain than anything else and Gaby was through dealing with it.
With a kick to his legs, Vinciguerra fell to his knees. Furiously, Gaby yanked him up by his collar and landed one last punch. As his unconscious body hit the ground, the cheering finally registered in Gaby’s ears. Gaby heaved out a large breath and ignored the throbbing in her hands as she turned back to Illya. Unknown hands patted her back until she reached Illya’s side.
Dropping to her knees, Gaby cradled his head in her lap and wiped the blood away from his broken nose.
His eyes flickering open, Illya smirked painfully and ran his thumb across her split lip. His Russian accent was muddled, “Thank you.”
Gaby nodded, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she remembered the first time he said that to her months and months ago. She knew those two words meant more than gratitude. She was prepared to hear them for the rest of her life.
“You’re welcome.”