Pictures
Oksana’s breathing was getting more and more laborious. It wouldn’t be too long now. She was lying on the couch in the living room while he kept on packing his bags. It had only been a few weeks since Oksana’s and Yelena’s separation in L.A., so that would be a good place to start. He had also heard that Natasha had gone to Northern Europe, no doubt hiding from the US government and whoever else was enforcing the Accords. Finding Yelena first made more sense though, she knew what to do and maybe using her would grant Benji an audience with the Iron Maiden herself.
Benji could hear Oksana’s breathing, she wouldn’t be long for this world. He picked up a white linen bed sheet and tucked it under his arm. At least he could wait until she was gone, at least she wouldn’t leave this world alone. So he picked up his bags, a small gym bag and a backpack, with his valuables and essentials in the latter one, and went to the kitchen. He picked up a glass of water and filled it up, bringing it to Oksana on the couch. The sun was still shining through the blinds and it must’ve been hot. He wasn’t really feeling the heat, but he could still try to make Oksana comfortable. She was lying on the couch and, as Benji had suspected, sweating because of the heat but also from shock. Her skin seemed clammy and when he touched her hands they were cold. Benji couldn’t trust her to drink by herself so he helped her by holding the glass to her lips. Oksana was lying with her neck against the armrest of the couch and her head on top of it, unable to fully relax even in her last moments. Or maybe relax wasn’t the right word, more like get comfortable in the last moments of her absolutely wretched life. That seemed more fitting.
Oksana wasn’t speaking at all. Well, it wasn’t like Benji was good at comforting dying people anyway, but he felt as if she deserved to have some epic last words or some little uttering of wisdom, but no. It was quiet, with just Benji with a woman slowly becoming more and more delirious from the blood loss and shock, unable to even utter last words or feel some comfort in not dying alone.
Benji could see it in her brown eyes. Safety and relaxation were foreign concepts and Oksana couldn’t be more scared. No use in hiding anything anymore.
Finally her labored breathing stopped. It wasn’t like much had changed. He could still hear the cars outside of the apartment, hear the thudding of upstairs neighbors chasing their dogs around their apartment, still hear the cuckoo clock from Austria ticking on the shelf. He had gotten that clock from Ethan, more as a joke gift. Ethan had taken him to see the Turandot for real after they had captured Lane the first time, as an apology for dragging him into it but also as a thank you for staying and helping. It really was a nice clock.
He could still see the sunshine pouring in, lighting up the little clock face and shining off the metal hands.
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After making sure that Oksana was truly dead, Benji cast one long look around his kitchen and living area. He had taken what was necessary and his bags felt light. His apartment didn’t look overly messy as Benji hadn’t been in too much of a rush and he already had his to-go bag partially filled. He walked around looking at all the little trinkets and memories around his apartment, memories of a life lived. There were mugs in the sink, ones that he hadn’t put in the dishwasher yet. Ethan knew he liked Halo so he had gotten Benji a Halo “tankard”, but that one was handwashed. No way was Benji putting that ridiculously expensive piece of crockery into the dishwasher.
A kitchen island opposite the door separated the kitchen from the living room that contained bookshelves, a tv, a gaming console and the couch with the now still body of Oksana. There were plenty of pictures in the living room. So many pictures, many of them taken during the aftermath of missions, without permission from HQ of course. The first picture to capture his attention was one of him, Jane, Ethan and Will after the mission with the Russian nuclear launch codes, taken in Mumbai. There wasn’t a picture of Dubai sadly, but they weren't exactly sight-seeing. He should go sometime, just as a civilian, if he ever gets the chance.
Another picture had Luther added into the mix. Even Hanaway made an appearance in one of the pictures even though they weren’t really that close. That’d been Jane’s area but Benji had just been happy to have real friends for once without fearing a knife to the back. Later on in the pictures, nailed in frames on his walls or in frames on his bookshelves, he could see Ilsa starting to pop up. One of the pictures was taken at a restaurant in Seattle. They had been just hanging out enjoying a quiet moment. They had asked a passerby to take the picture. The "team" was around a circular table with Ethan around the center of the picture drinking a gin tonic. Ilsa was sitting on his right with a glass of sparkling wine and Jane next to her nursing a pint of beer. Luther sat opposite Ethan, also with a pint of beer in his hand but of a darker variety compared to Jane’s amber ale. Will was to Luther’s right nursing a Seattle classic: an Old Pal. Benji was to Will’s right, next to Ethan and nursing an English Porter. Benji remembered the team’s needling about his choice of drink adn his response: “American beer is rubbish and you know it Ethan, we’ve had plenty enough missions in England for you to know it!” They were all facing the camera, with varying smiles on their faces. Will seemed a bit grumpy in the picture, but Benji remembered him being happy to have at least one evening free of work. Jane and Ilsa, who had gotten along surprisingly well after Ilsa’s departing from MI6, both had on relaxed smirks with Ilsa leaning on the table a little bit to be seen better in the picture. Luther had turned around in his chair with that knowing twinkle in his eyes he always seemed to have. Benji was full on grinning with his eyes squinted from the force of the smile. And Ethan? Ethan had one of his relaxed and dazzling “playboy” smiles that made Benji’s heart flutter, with one of his arms around Benji's shoulders adn the other holding his drink. Benji picked up the frame off the shelf and took the picture out of it. He could allow himself to take something at least. He put the picture in an inside pocket of his backpack for safe-keeping.
Benji picked up the white linen from beside the sofa and covered Oksana with it. He finally picked up the little black reinforced suitcase that contained the vials of bright red gas. Benji had opened the suitcase when he had let Oksana in, to check for danger, and had discovered the vials. He had heard through his contacts about a substance capable of breaking the Red Room’s control over the Widows so he assumed it had to be this. Thankfully the case was small enough to fit into his backpack.
He cast one more sorrowful look over his apartment and the form shrouded in white on his couch. It was time to leave.