Nallya had always been a light sleeper because it was required in her line of work. but she never actually slept. In the almost two decades that she has lived, she started to think that every decision always landed on the same platform despite the differences in choices. It almost always came around to bite her in the ass. The recent one being escaping where she works. She was an asset to them. She figured that out when they hired a doctor from the opposing side to treat her when she almost died. What she doesn't know is in what way could she be so valuable. Obviously not as herself but something she was never told about her because she was treated like shit ever since she got picked up by Illya and the only reason it was so tolerable all those years was because of him.

Nallya was staring at the extravagant ceiling of the hotel room, running memories through her head again and again.

The sound of the shower stops and there were soft steps on the carpet and it halts just by her feet, where the mattress dips. She sits up and look at Illya who has his bare back turned to her, glistening as the water from his hair drops to leave trails.

"I have not seen you in years..." he says, not turning around.

"How have you been?" He was twiddling with his thumbs on his lap waiting for a response. He felt guilty for not leaving a goodbye before vanishing from the organization. He knew that she could handle herself, but he also knew what they've been doing to her all the years. The thought of her dealing with it all alone makes him feel ashamed.

".. better than I've ever been.." she replied, hugging her knees against her chest.

"I'm sorry." He looks at her. Making sure she knew, and she saw, how truly sorry he was.

"For what?" Her eyebrows quirked at the unexpected apology.

"I should not have left without telling you anything. Especially in their hands.."

"Are you saying my dear Illya has changed allegiance?" She teases, nudging the older man with  her foot.

He puts a hand on her foot, running his thumb over it.

"No.. I just know what they're capable of. They treated you twice as badly as they did me when I was taken... " Nallya stops his hand  and crawled over to sit by his side. She rested her head on his arm since she still could not reach past his shoulders sitting down.

"But I had you there before.. three years isn't much, Illya."

"Not about time... nothing is sacred to them. You know well the things they had made me do to you even when I was there."Illya's voice lowered, running the scene in his head and clenching his fists.

"You did what you had to. I told you I forgive you."

"You were thirteen, Mishka. You didn't speak or look at me or anyone.You suffered because of me."

"Don't do this to yourself...That was there; Before. Don't bring it with you."Nallya soothes his white knuckles with her thumb and slowly unclenched the fists.

- flashback -

Agents, Directors, everyone who was working behind the iron curtains. They noticed. They noticed how much closer Kuryakin and the girl had grown throughout the years. 7 years to be exact. And they used this against them whenever they had the chance. Of course the two knew better than to let them have that, so they follow orders as it was told and do them perfectly. Any mistake is punishable. They knew that when they were told ANY it meant ANY. It might be a small slip up but the consequences were still jarring.

It was lunchtime and Illya was still on his shift at the interrogation room. He was pulling American nails and making them swallow it to get them to talk, occasionally pressing the button to electrocute the enemy spy when he said something that Illya deemed rude or not wanted. He barely spoke on these jobs, except to ask question. He didn't need to scare them by telling them what he can do. He just does it. After a few more shocks and screaming the spy cracked.

"Look! I'll tell you what you want. Just make it stop!" The amercian's voice was a pitch higher than when they began and Illya was sure the man had pissed himself.

Pathetic americans. he thought.

"Why are you in our territory?"Illya simply asked, leaning back on the table where tools were laid out in metal trays.

"They sent me..to take your biological weapon." The man answered. Illya was confused but he proceeded to ask question the man to put it in his report.

"Why." The man looked at him like he was stupid and didn't answer.

"WHY." He asked again, this time standing up suddenly and startling the guy.

"Because they're the key to winning all the wars. I swear that's all I know!"

"Who sent you."

"Sanders.. " His answer was shaky. It didn't answer Illya's questions but it did answer Oleg's. That's why he left the room and assigned a few guards to watch the prisoner while he went to the main office to tell Oleg about what the CIA wanted from them.

"What did you get Kuryakin."

"They're trying to steal our biological weapon to use it against everybody else... or them.. he referred to the weapon as them." Oleg's stature changed just a bit for Illya to notice. He knew that he wasn't being told something, but he also knew he should not ask about it.

"I see. What else."

"His superior is Sanders."

"That bastard has nothing better to do... kill his agent. Send Stravinsky over here on your way back."

Illya did what he was told and walked out to find the scientist before going back to the interrogation room to finish his job.

When Illya left, Oleg waited for the scientist to arrive at his office and took out the classified file from a hidden compartment in the back of his bookshelf.

"You wanted to see me?" A voice piped in. Oleg turned around to the stickly old man with his oversized glasses at the tip of his nose.

"Yes, Doctor. Close the door." The man did what he was told and followed suit.

"Is this about the uranium compactors?" He asked, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat

"No, it's about the our hidden jewel. The Americans know."

---

Nallya was in the far corner table of the cafeteria with her nose buried in a book when the daily taunting arrived at the seats infront of her.

Right on schedule. She thought and kept reading.

" what we have here, Paulo? A new book?" The man speaking tugged the book from her hands and she didn't let it go until he yanked it with enough force. Yakov, the man who has the book, smirked smugly.

"You probably not know how to." He tossed the book to the other man who caught it effortlessly.

Nallya didnt move or defied their actions. She knew they were about the same level agents as Illya so she knew if she tried to do anything, she'll get another punishment. Maybe ten times as bad as the last time she acted by herself or maybe even get killed. However, if Illya is involved like that one time, it was justified because he knew better.

She sat there and looked anywhere but them. Her jaw was tightened and she looked down at at her hands on the table in irritation but she didn't show it.

"Are you cry?" Yakov asked and laughed along with Paulo. She was sure there were some others who just happened to pass by or heard from another table that laughed. Nallya couldn't keep the sarcasm even when she tried hard to bite down her tongue and she knew exactly what was to come right before she replied.

"No, I'm not. However, I am cryING inside at how bad your english is. I can't believe you passed as a higher agent without knowing how to speak another language properly." She continued talking after the first sentence mostly because the mans face contorted into an angry bull's. She might have hated being taunted, but she enjoyed dishing it back out.

"маленькая сука." (Little bitch) The movement was so swift all she heard was the backhand slapping against the skin of her cheek. She took a moment to recover from it, but she sat right up when she did; she smiled at this.

This earned her another slap that hit her hard enough to fall on the floor.

"не смущать меня здесь." (Do not embarass me here) Yakov stood up, walked around the table and kicked her in the face. Nallya felt the hard sole of the boot hit her lip, but not hard enough to break her teeth. She took more hits at the stomach and the chest until he stopped. Her face wasn't as damaged as she'd expected after seeing her reflection from the metal table a few feet from her. She had a bleeding,swollen lip and yellowing cheeks that was a sure sign of bruising.

She slowly got up from the floor and she noticed everyone was watching.

"если вы знаете, что лучше, остаться вниз." (If you know what's best for you, stay down.) Illya's voice echoed at the back of her head.. but she couldn't focus on following that advice when the tapping started and all she could hear was her blood pulsing in her head. She smiled and dusted herself and wiped the blood from her mouth.

"Your guardian is not here to protect, little girl" Yakov chuckles. The pulse died down and she was able to think somewhat clear again.

"You*."She ripostes.

"What."

"Your guardian is not here to protect 'you'. You forgot the 'You' . If you're trying to scare me, do it right." Of course, she expected the hit when he swung. But it was angled perfectly enough to land her by her food tray.

He tried to hit her again, but Nallya easily dodged this by ducking and swinging the rigid platter at his head. He was thrown off balance, but still managed to fly another punch at her. She brings the metal to cover her face and she kicks his knee in from his stance to dislocate it. When she did this successfully, she tackled him down and his friend tried to help. That didn't do much because a butter knife swiped open his oesophagus.

Nallya was blinded the whole time during the fight. She knew she was fighting but she didn't know how to stop unless she finished what she started. All she can hear was the pang of the metal against Yakov's head in sync with her rising heartbeat.

She lifts the tray over her head and takes a good look at the bloodied man before her.

"Прощай" (goodbye) she says, before bringing the tray down and wedging it inbetween his neck.

Illya knew something happened when he heard rushed footsteps bouncing off of the walls when he came out of the interrogation room and he really hoped it wasn't the kid about to be punished for fighting back. She had a reputation with anger issues but then again, so did Illya.

When Nallya was brought in into one of the interrogation rooms used for lectures, She thought nothing of it. She knew she'd either be beaten into a pulp... again.. or electrocuted until she passes out. What she had failed to include in that guess is the fact that she killed, not one, but two important agents of the KGB. This was not a hiccup. The superiors looked into it that this punishment does not end until the kid knew that nothing is sacred without killing her because she was an asset and thats she is only to act by orders. They knew exactly where to start.

"Call in Kuryakin. He's got work to do."

As predicted, She was kicked more and electrocuted. But what she didn't really expect is to see Illya standing with the crowd with his arms crossed. She was sitting on the electric chair and she didn't show anything because judging from how Illya was looking at her in both contrition and anger, something terrible was about to happen. His eyes was remorseful, but his body language said otherwise. Then and there she knew that they somehow managed to drag Illya in what she caused.

"You are to break her soul. She thinks you are a comrade and to her that is sacred. You are to force yourself on her and break that sanctity. She will have nothing and she will be able to become an effective agent. There are no bonds. You fail to do this, we will kill her ...and you for failing to deliver the task." Those words rang in Illya's head loud and clear and all he could feel was anger, resentment, nauseated and penitence in one down. But now, he thought, was the worst time to show any signs of those.

He was walking past the crowd that was standing outside the viewing room to watch what was next for the kid and stared anyone down who got on his way in. Illya had thought about it more than twice. He can kill everybody in the room to save the kid, but he knew fully well they will not get out of there unharmed or even alive. He listened to his instruction and he is carrying through, but in his heart he couldn't even think of laying a hand on her. He knew this was the easy way out. He just couldn't do it.

He'd snuck all the way in the room past the mirror and the men who were circling the chair. There were blood on the floor and he was sure a person that small should be dead by now for losing that much. But here he was, standing in front of her while she sat there eyeing him. He felt sorry and angry. He just wanted it to be done.

Illya took steps towards her and lifted her face for him to see from under her chin.

The crowd watched.

He thought about how to tell her.. so he settled for a soft language that nobody else can perfect in their base like Italian. "si deve far finta di avere paura di me o che ucciderete noi due." He whispers. Her eyes got wide and he would have been convinced she was horrified at what he said if he hadn't just given her instructions.

The room was quiet, Nallya was shaking. The two of them thought they were playing it well until they heard guns cock behind their heads.

"Leave." The one from behind Illya ordered, but everybody in the room was hesitant.

"УЙМИ, ВЫ ДЕГЕНЕРАТЫ!"(LEAVE, YOU IMBECILES) He repeated and the crowd scatter out in one door.

"Now, where were we.. Ah, yes. Do your job or we will shoot the two of you in the head." The tip of the gun was pushed against Illya's head and he just looked down at the kid.

"There's a table right there."Illya didn't move. The girl didn't know what was happening and the two agents behind them was probably being monitored through the one way mirror.

"Do we have to hold her down for you? Is that what you like" They taunted but he wanted to so badly snap their necks.

Nallya caught on. Well, she thought. She knew what his orders were and in order for the both of them to live, he has to do it.

Illya lifted her from the chair and set her on the cold table. He looked at her in the eyes. She realized she was not going to be tortured.

"non guardare altrove. basta guardare i miei occhi." ( Don't look anywhere else. Just look at my eyes.) She understood but not what the goal was, but of the task. So she started resisting. She didn't want it. Not forcibly especially by the vile scumbags who thought of it in the first place. Not even when Illya asked her to make it easy. She didn't want it. Not when they were as close as they were and he was the only unadulterated thing she has.

"Illya, No. Please." She tried to get away but she was held down insistently. She tried kicking them, but she felt helpless. She didn't know what else to do.

"Illya, don't do this" She begged and tears began welling from the rims of her eyes.

"Please." She didn't peel away her eyes from Illya. She just cried. Never in her time in the KGB did she cry in a punishment or a fight.

"I'm sorry" He whispers. Just low enough for only Nallya to hear.

Her cargos were cut off and the waistband of his pants where down to his thighs. Nallya closes her eyes and let's out a suppressed sob.

"I forgive you"

---flashback ends--

"Please.. don't do this to yourself. Whatever happened there dies in there.." Nallya hugged the taller man's arm in reassurance.

"-Besides I cut their balls off before I escaped. So if you ever want to see, it's nailed on top of the main control panel in sector 15." She jokes and he looks at her proudly before ruffling her hair.

"That's my girl."