Illya (redperilatdawn) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-04-14 21:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !trigger warning, illya kuryakin |
Who: Illya Kuryakin
What: You can try to repress memory but eventually it always catches up with you
When: 13th April
Where: Illya's room
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; Implied child abuse
Status: Narrative; Complete
It was rare for the Russian to sleep but when he did he liked to actually get rest but that did not seem to be on the cards this evening as his dreams troubled him more than they should. The screaming of a woman, the cursing of a man, the desperate pleas of a young boy and a sudden explosion of pain from a backhand sent teeth rattling in a fragile skull. It was all familiar and yet not, it didn't feel like a dream but rather a captured memory of a time long since forgotten. "No, please, don't. The boy is- He does not know what he does. Please leave him alone."
Small hands, much smaller than his own, reached and grabbed in desperation to latch onto a man's arm. Fingers snagging in the leather strap of a watch and with a tug the strap broke and the man slipped away from his grasp leaving the boy a huddled mess on the ground with nothing more than a wristwatch to call his own.
The scream which came next was not his, it was hers, his mother.
She was crumpled, folded in, dark tracks of mascara marring her cheeks and causing the boy to recoil though she dug her blood red nails into his arms to the point where crescent shaped marks were left imprinted in his soft skin so he couldn't pull away.
"You are all that I have left."
The pressure, it was intense, pressing, crushing and Illya found that he couldn't breathe. She was too much, too invasive, too- She needed to let go, but she wouldn't, no matter how much he begged her, she just held onto him like a person would a life ring when drowning at sea.
It was as the house was emptied of all the family belongings that eventually Illya was able to rip himself out of the nightmare, sitting up abruptly and panting out short sharp breaths that caused his chest to ache with the sheer effort it took to pass oxygen through his lungs. What was that? He growled as he untangled his legs and ripped his sheets away as he stumbled to his feet, a hand blindly fumbling for the light as he staggered in the direction of the bathroom where he ended. Slumped over, hands curled tightly around the porcelain, and haunted much younger eyes staring back at him.
He reprimanded himself for allowing a stupid thing like a dream to bother him so much and just bowed his head as he slowly and methodically pieced himself back together again. Emotions were for the weak and the nauseating feel of shame and mortification wasn't conducive to anything so the sooner he could bottle it all up again the better.
"Illya please, look at me, I am your mother and I love you."
Illya's head jerked upwards and he felt his jaw twitch as there was nobody in the room with him and yet he could still hear her clear as day. Her voice, it haunted his every step, his every action, and it didn't seem to matter how much distance he put between himself and her she was always there.
And with a snarl he in an explosion of rage drove his curled fist into the mirror until it shattered and with the stinging sensation across his knuckles now rapidly taking away from his disturbed sleep Illya slumped back against the nearby wall and just breathed.
It was just a dream, nothing more and nothing less.