Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His head felt heavy.

The first thing Twilight noticed upon regaining his senses was the strong smell of antiseptic in the air. He could also smell faint traces of chlorine, artificial floral fragrance, and blood.

Hospital, his mind supplied.

His hearing was the second to return. Although he was yet to open his eyes, the Westalian spy could easily tell that he wasn’t alone in the room. There was at least one person sitting not more than five feet from him, while another figure stood at a greater distance. Twilight could hear them shuffling around, their clothes rustling as they changed their position while striving to stay quiet.

Have I been compromised?

He felt his muscles tightening at the thought, but made sure to keep his face expressionless. His companions did not know that he was awake, and Twilight would like to keep it that way until he figured out an escape plan. With great restraint, he kept his eyes and fingers from twitching as he heard one of the people in the room move closer to him. Their footsteps and small puffs of breaths alerted him of their proximity to the bed he was lying in.

Twilight felt something shift inside him.

It was a child.

What is a child doing here? He asked himself, frantic. How did I get here?

The last thing he could remember was a blast.

It only took a moment but vague details started coming back to him. Twilight had been on a mission in a small village in Westalis where a group of rogue military personnel had established their headquarters. The multiple reports submitted by their intelligence assets in the area had all confirmed suspicious activity in an abandoned warehouse. The men were planning to carry out terrorist activities in metropolitan cities, causing a new wave of panic among the masses that had just started rebuilding their lives after a bloody and brutal war.

It had been difficult to make it to the warehouse undetected, but Twilight and three other spies had managed to get inside the decrepit building by different means. While the other three had simply slipped inside from broken windows, he had adorned the disguise of an errand boy who often brought food and supplies to the group stationed inside.

The plan was pretty simple. They had to capture the leader, execute the others, and grab all the files and maps in the building. Things were going pretty smoothly until one of the rookie agents he was mentoring stepped on a loose floorboard, making it creak rather loudly. It all went south in a matter of minutes. Being trained military professionals, the rebels wasted no time in opening fire at the intruders.

Despite spending years in the field, Twilight had almost been hit twice before he managed to take out the half a dozen men guarding that floor.
Without wasting another millisecond, he grabbed the map laid out on a nearby table and took a step toward the winding staircase leading to the upper floor when a loud explosion rocked the entire building. His ears rang as he gripped a wooden beam to steady himself, gauging the damage around him and swiftly moving towards the exit. He was sure the others must have made it out of the warehouse with their captive already. However, before Twilight could safely cross the threshold, he heard another bomb going off in the background – and his entire world went blank in an instant.

Twilight wasn’t sure how long he had been unconscious, but he knew for sure he wasn’t in a WISE facility. His ears strained for any other sound to alert him of his present location, but all he could hear was the chatter of the nurses in the corridor, a set of feet pacing in the far corner of the room, and the hiccups of a young child standing barely a foot away from him.

Where in the world am I? He thought for the umpteenth time.

“I’ll be outside,” a disgruntled male voice suddenly announced. “Chihuahua girl, do you want something to eat?”

Chihuahua?

Which cipher was that?

Twilight didn’t have to open his eyes to tell the little figure next to him was shaking its head ferociously.

“Fine,” the male huffed. “Suit yourself.”

He was sure he had never heard that voice before, yet it felt oddly familiar. Twilight concluded he probably had a concussion because it had taken him three seconds too long to determine that the man had spoken with an Ostanian dialect.

Evening out his breath so as to not alert others in the room, Twilight was in the middle of strategizing his 89th escape plan when he felt a small hand tightly grasp his fingers.

“I will cry if you leave me,” the voice of a young girl filled the room.

Twilight flinched internally.

“Anya,” a woman spoke up and Twilight almost jumped out of his bed. He hadn’t even noticed her before, and he was sure as hell the door of the room had not been opened since the man left. So, where did she even come from? Had she already been there when he woke up? How could he have missed her?

“Please come and sit down,” she continued, thankfully not noticing the change in his breathing pattern. Her voice sounded hoarse and defeated as it reverberated through the room, making his heart skip a beat – and not in a good way. Twilight was so wrapped up in the fact that he had failed to notice her presence that he almost missed the next words that left her mouth.

“Your father isn’t going anywhere,” she said, sounding more self-assured than he would have liked. “He is just sleeping. He’ll wake up in a bit and we will all go home.”

She too sounded Ostanian, but Twilight couldn’t bring himself to mull on that because the word ‘father’ had sent his brain into overdrive.

This has to be a setup, Twilight told himself. I was injured in the blast, so they took me to a hospital covertly and patched me up. I will likely be interrogated as soon as they find out I have regained consciousness. The woman and child must have also been deployed by the rogue militants to keep an eye on me while acting like my fake family. It will both thwart suspicions from the doctors and keep my agency from finding me. After all, my employers would be searching the hospitals for a lone injured man, not someone with a wife and a kid waiting by his bedside.

“Mama, I think you should talk to papa while he is asleep,” the little girl spoke up again, her resolve shining in her words. “Anya will stand near the door and keep her family safe from the real-life bad people.”

“What should I tell him?” the woman asked, sniffling silently as she moved closer to him. Her light footsteps made almost no sound against the floor, making him feel a lot more uneasy than he was willing to admit.

“Umm…” he heard Anya respond. “Maybe tell him about his name, and remind him of ours. The doctor said he may be dis-oreen-ted when he woke up. You should also tell him that he promised he will come back to us after his mish-on.”

It was all getting a bit ludicrous. Mission. Father. They were making his headache even worse. His tongue felt swollen and dry in his mouth, and as he regained more control of his body, he could tell that only his head was injured. The rest of him was still fully intact, which was impressive considering he had survived more than one explosion. Another thing that he had picked up on in the last few minutes was that there was no one else watching him (except the woman, hopefully). Twilight also didn’t think he was under surveillance, nor could he hear any suspicious noises coming from outside of his hospital room, which was conveniently situated on the second floor of a building with at least one large window facing the street.

Getting up and jumping out the window would take him less than a minute even with the woman interfering with his plan. However, curiosity got the best of him as he heard a small gasp and felt the tiny hand gripping his fingers tremble.

“Please don’t leave me,” Anya sobbed again. “Papa promised Anya that he won’t ever leave her.”

Twilight would later tell himself that he did what he did because he hated the sound of children crying. However, at that moment, the spy was befuddled beyond belief to find his fingers involuntarily curling around the girl’s hand.

He was now certain that the child knew he was coming about, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the strange woman had figured it out as well.

“Your name is Loid Forger. Well, that’s the name you now go by,” her quivering voice broke him out of his reverie. She had gotten much closer to his bed than he had realized, and he almost gulped at that. “You once told me you didn’t remember your real name, and I told you it was okay because Loid suited you. It suited you more than Twilight.”

The heart monitor placed on the table next to his bed beeped loudly.

Fuck. His cover was blown.

The woman took a sharp breath, tightly grasping his shoulder, which made him wince in pain. 

“You’re awake,” she whispered, her voice an octave higher than it was before.

Did she sound happy?

“Anya, your papa is awake,” the woman repeated. “Loid, please open your eyes. You are with your family. You are safe.” 

Twilight had never heard that damned name in his entire life. Yet, he found himself responding to her request and slowly opened his eyes only to find a set of crimson orbs staring right into his. The woman was visibly relieved, though before he could get completely familiar with the bright fluorescent light shining above him, a tuft of pink hair obscured his view. He felt a slight weight on his chest as the young girl hugged him, her tear-streaked face resting against his neck. 

“Papa must remember Anya,” she cried. “Papa must remember Mama, Bond, and our family.”

Chapter Text

Bewilderment was not a feeling Twilight was familiar with.

The secret agent had taken down trafficking rings that even law enforcement officials could not track. He had singlehandedly stopped nuclear warfare on more than one occasion and dismantled terrorist groups planning to kill hundreds of innocent civilians in various acts of barbarianism.

He was no hero by any means, but being the best spy in Westalis, he had always considered himself to be far more capable than others when it came to maintaining composure in the face of certain doom.

Yet, here he was.

Sitting on a hospital bed with a thick bandage covering his head, Twilight struggled to move his arms as the raven-haired woman engulfed him and the child in a powerful hug, almost cutting off his air supply. A part of him wondered if he was being attacked and should push them away, but another part of him was certain that there was no imminent threat from either of the people present in the room. He desperately hoped he was in the middle of some hyper-realistic simulation designed to test his rationality because the alternative was just scary.

He was beginning to doubt his own sanity.

“There is no need to be scared, papa,” Anya whispered against his shoulder, before pulling back to stare at him with green eyes wide that were wide as saucers. “You are not going mad… you are just dis-oreen-ted.”

Twilight cocked an eyebrow at her bizarre statement. Though he didn’t have much experience with kids, he knew well enough that they weren’t usually this intuitive.

Okay, it’s time to think about this rationally, he told himself. My first priority is to make contact with the Handler. In the meantime, trying to get away from the woman and the child would draw the attention of the enemies.

“Oh, Loid,” the woman bemoaned, finally putting some distance between their bodies. Even Twilight had to admit that she was playing the role of a worried wife a bit too well. Her strength was also something he took a note of, along with her beauty, but that was not of importance right now. Clearly, whoever had commissioned these two for this job had really thought this through.

However, the purpose of this impressive charade was completely eluding him.

“There, there,” Anya gently patted his shoulder before jumping off the bed, her expression dramatically solemn as she closed her eyes and sighed. Twilight suppressed a chuckle. She was barely older than 7 years old, yet she was somehow involved in this operation.

“9,” she chirped suddenly, which made the woman move her head to stare at the pink-haired girl, her slender hands coming to rest on her lap. “We celebrated my ninth birthday months ago,” Anya continued as if reminding him of something he was not supposed to forget. Her acting was good enough to fool any accomplished spy, but Twilight knew that none of it was true. It couldn’t be.

He cleared his throat, refusing to look at the girl who was now squinting at him.

“How long had I been out?” he spoke for what felt like the first time in days, his voice scratchy and low.

“48 hours, give or take,” the woman responded, her ruby red eyes meeting his sapphire ones.

“How did I get here?”

“Oh,” she said softly, moving her hand to rub at the wetness pooling in her eyes.

Why was she crying?

Twilight felt an odd sensation wash all over him. His heart strummed for an unknown reason as he saw the tears starting to roll down her flushed cheeks.

Had he been drugged? Is that why his body was reacting that way?

“You told us it was a simple mission,” she said after a moment of contemplation, her voice shaking with barely concealed sobs. She then hid her face in her hands. “Had Frankie not realized something was off, we could have lost you.”

While he was growing increasingly weary of her emotional state, the mention of Frankie – his most important asset in Ostania – confirmed his suspicion about his whereabouts.

He was on enemy soil, and this woman was allegedly in contact with a WISE informant. He doubted Frankie would betray the agency and leak the coordinates of a mission he likely didn’t even know about. Not to mention, getting an injured man from the far end of Westalis to a city center in Ostania would definitely take more than 48 hours.

So, is she a WISE operative stationed here to protect my identity and provide a reliable cover story if I needed one?

He was clearly missing an important link. Nonetheless, before Twilight could even scratch his chin in confusion, the door to his room slid open. At the same moment, the black-haired woman jumped in front of him, as if to protect his body from an incoming bullet. A chill ran down his spine at her speed and agility. However, the dark shadow in her eyes dispelled as soon as she set her sights on the intruder.

“Hello Dr. Forger, Mrs. Forger,” the doctor greeted the pair with a pleasant smile as she entered the room. She was closely followed by a nurse who appeared to be holding some medical charts and a clipboard. “I’m glad to finally see you awake.”

Good to see you alive, Agent Twilight, Sylvia Sherwood had mouthed the words of the secret message at the same time.

He was equal parts relieved and worried to see Handler paying him a visit. Her disguise flawlessly hid her bright hair and sharp eyes, presenting an image of a middle-aged doctor with a smile plastered on her face.

Nightfall, however, was an entirely different story. She was burning a hole into the spot right next to his head, reluctant to meet his eyes.

“I am glad to be awake as well,” Twilight forced a small smile, briefly glancing at Anya who was watching the scene unfold before her with astute observation. “What’s the status?” He mouthed silently.

The Handler simply smiled in return and turned her attention to the woman sitting on his bed.

“Mrs. Forger, we need to further examine your husband,” she said. “He suffered an injury to his head, so it would be best to carry out a few tests to assess his brain functions and coordination.”

“Of- of course,” the woman stuttered, though she didn’t seem too happy to move away from him. “Anya and I will be waiting outside.”

With that, she gave his hand a strong squeeze and then grasped the little girl’s hand, walking out of the room. She turned to look back at him once more before sliding the door close behind her.

Twilight let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

Now sitting up straighter on the bed, he tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his head as his eyes focused on the documents Nightfall had placed in front of him.

He frowned. Something was terribly wrong.

“How did they get the drop on you, sir?” the younger agent asked while putting the blood pressure cuff around his arm to keep up the pretense of being an occupational nurse. She almost dropped the equipment when Twilight directed his coldest glare at her.

“You’re the one to ask?” he questioned, seething. While he was not the one to lose his temper, he was pretty close to adding a few demerits to his mentee’s assessment report. “Your one small mistake almost cost us the entire operation.”

Unfortunately for him, his words didn’t have the effect he had hoped for. Instead of the flash of embarrassment that he was expecting to appear on her face, the agent regarded him with a confused curiosity.

“What are you talking about?”

“Had you been careful with your steps at the warehouse, we wouldn’t have had to risk our lives to gather the intel,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me there were no casualties from our side.”

His Handler, who had been unceremoniously quite the entire time, busied herself with the bandage on his head.

“What do you remember about your last mission, Twilight?” Sylvia asked, all but snatching the documents he had been confusedly looking at. She didn’t look irate, just exhausted.

Already feeling drowsiness creep up on him, he didn’t waste any time recounting the events. To anyone listening from the other side of the door, it would just sound like a patient asking his doctor about the extent of his injuries. He didn’t want to risk using Morse code, knowing that it could be easily intercepted.

“…the blast is the last thing I remember,” he finished, not missing the look Handler sent Nightfall, who had now been staring at him as if he had grown two heads.

“Let me ask you, something,” Sylvia sighed, crossing her arms after checking something on the clipboard. “Did you recognize the woman who was in the room with us just now?”

“No.”

“What about the girl, then?” she pressed.

Twilight narrowed his eyes at the incessant line of questioning. Shouldn’t he be the one asking Handler about them?

“I know her name and age,” he spat out, feeling increasingly restless. “She also looks nothing like the woman she kept addressing as her mother, but they are both Ostanian.”

“Good Lord,” he heard Sylvia mutter as she grabbed the nearest chair and fell on it. “Nurse Robin, would you mind getting Dr. Spencer for us, please?”

“What is going on?” he asked, alarmed. His headache had become considerably worse and his vision was blurring once again. He remembered how Anya had told him he was disoriented just minutes ago, and he had to make an effort to not let that memory bring a smile to his face. Nightfall had already left the room.

“I believe the hit you took to the head has done some serious damage,” the Handler said woefully, a hint of apprehension lacing her disguised voice.

“Wha –”

“You got injured on a lone mission, Twilight. It was supposed to be a quick job. But the fact that you almost died makes me believe that it was a trap.”

“But – ”

“I was hoping to at least figure out who was after you, but that doesn’t seem to be an option anymore.”

His head was spinning. Aggressively.

“The warehouse…” he struggled to communicate, feeling himself slowly drifting into unconsciousness.

“That was eight years ago,” the Handler said in a tone that he hoped he would never hear her use again, speaking freely as she moved closer to him. “You made it out alive from that mission, but your luck apparently ran out this time around.”

“Dr. Spencer is on his way,” Nightfall announced as she came back into his field of vision again. “Is his amnesia temporary?” she asked her boss, tilting her head towards her mentor.

Amnesia?

“Let’s hope so.”

Those were the last words he heard before completely blacking out.

Chapter Text

War was ugly and cruel. Yet those in power always wanted more of it.

Twilight often wondered if they knew the true cost of war. He doubted such people had ever heard the desperate cries of mothers who had to bury the battered bodies of their children or the silent sobs of fathers who could not protect their flesh and blood from the evils of the world.

Most importantly, he questioned if those advocating for war had ever witnessed weeping children digging through the rubble and debris, searching for the remnants of their loved ones who had left them behind to fend for themselves.

He had hoped for a world that was free of these atrocities.

Yet, nothing had changed. The world was still a horrible place and the warmongers still craved the blood of the innocents.

Operation Strix was a testament to that.

Donovan Desmond of the National Unity Party wanted to start a new wave of conflicts between the two neighboring countries, completely indifferent to the damage it would cost to both sides.

Twilight stared solemnly at the large wall in front of him, not paying much mind to the fluorescent light bulb flickering ominously above his head, casting shadows on the myriad of pictures and newspaper articles adorning the panels. Nightfall had also scribbled detailed notes all over the makeshift board in an attempt to help him catch up with everything – and while he trusted her loyalty to WISE, he was having a hard time digesting some of the facts presented before him.

For example, did he really ask WISE to rent out an actual castle to celebrate his daughter’s admission to Eden Academy? Also, why were there so many pictures of him and his pretend family dressed up in matching clothes?

“You are going to burn a hole in that wall,” Handler’s voice rang through the room, the soft clicks of her heels breaking the silence that had fallen over the room since Nightfall’s departure two hours ago. “Had Operation Strix still been in its nascent stages, we would have extracted you from Ostania and stationed another agent in your stead.”

Although he did not respond, the slight change in his demeanor told Sylvia that his favorite pupil was indeed paying attention to her words.

“Nightfall suggested restarting the operation from scratch,” she continued, now standing right next to him, their shoulders a few feet apart as she carefully scanned the information on the wall. “A new identity and a new family may not be that difficult to create, but your adopted daughter has already formed a bond of sorts with the target’s second son, allowing you to initiate contact with his father. If we choose to back out now, finding another in with the Desmond family could take some time…”

“… and we don’t have that luxury,” Twilight finished her sentence, avoiding meeting the eyes of his mentor as he rested against the aluminum table that had been pushed to the middle of the room. “I understand how sensitive this mission is,” he sighed.

Handler nodded.

“It’s settled then. You will be discharged from the hospital today and go back to the Forger residence,” she explained. “Your wife and daughter think you are being constantly whisked around for different tests and experimental treatments, and though they seem rather gullible most of the time, we can’t risk them picking up on any details.”

Twilight couldn’t help but flinch at that, a drop of sweat appearing above his eyebrow.

“You should also tell him that he promised he will come back to us after his mish-on.”

“You once told me you didn’t remember your real name, and I told you it was okay because Loid suited you. It suited you more than Twilight.”

Those words played in his mind on a loop. While Nightfall and Handler were both under the impression that his cover was indeed intact, he knew that it wasn’t. The woman and the child knew about his secret identity, which was extremely unsettling for someone like Twilight, who was regarded as a legend in the world of espionage.

It had been three days since he had regained consciousness. His first 30 minutes after waking up were no less than a roller coaster. However, once he had been through a series of imaging tests and spoken to the panel of doctors arranged by WISE, it was pretty clear that his memory of the past eight years had been wiped clean – at least for now.

The last thing he could remember was the mission that had left him with a concussion and almost killed his colleagues a little less than a decade ago. The doctors had said it wasn’t uncommon for the human brain to substitute one piece of information with another in events of extreme distress or physical trauma. They also weren't sure when his memories would return, if ever.

He had also been briefed on Operation Strix as well as the progress he had made over the last three years.

It was undoubtedly the longest mission of his entire career. The reports he had penned on his family members also indicated the same.

The daughter, Anya, was adopted from an orphanage but maintained that she was his biological daughter in front of everyone. She was now a third grader and had earned four Stella stars for her community work.

Meanwhile, the strange woman he had encountered in the room was Yor Briar. She was a civil servant who had agreed to enter a fake marriage with Loid Forger, his undercover persona, to avoid the constant pressure from her colleagues at the City Hall and younger brother to find a man and settle down.

Twilight had yet to meet the said younger brother, Yuri Briar, who apparently believed every word that left his sister’s mouth and seemed to dislike Loid. It didn’t help that the man was also working for State Security Service, which made him a threat to the entire operation.

“We should get going,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “My fake family believes I have lost my memories since before meeting my first wife. They will likely be just as wary of Loid as I am of them.”

Gingerly touching the bandage on the back of his head, Twilight straightened up and moved towards the door.

“You are truly underestimating them,” Handler muttered, making him pause mid-step. “That woman and child sat by your bedside for two straight days. Even her brother constantly checked up on you. Also, the Briars may think that Anya is your daughter, but it seems they have come to care for her as if she is one of them.”

Something about her last sentence made his heart feel heavy. Perhaps he felt bad about dragging an innocent child into this mission. Or maybe he felt guilty that a civilian woman would have to spend the rest of her life as his ex-wife or widow, depending on how he chooses to close the chapter of Loid Forger once Operation Strix comes to a conclusion.

“For now, you’ll have no side missions,” Sylvia said as her parting words to him. “Rest up, Dr. Forger. You have a long road of recovery ahead of you.”

Twilight was out of the room in the next instant. The wheels in his mind whirred at an alarming speed as he opened the door that led to the third-floor hospital balcony. The cold air of the night soothed his frayed nerves, providing him with a much-needed reprieve from the stifling thoughts that had found a home in his brain.

However, he could only enjoy a moment of peace before the door opened behind him once again. He didn’t have to turn to figure out who was approaching him.

“Papa looks tired,” Anya commented in a matter-of-fact tone as she came to stand next to him. Though her pink-haired head didn’t even come up to his elbow, she still looked at him as if seeing right through him. “If you have any questions, mama and I would answer them for you.”

Twilight regarded her for a quiet moment.

How did she know I was on a mission when I got hurt?

Why did she stay with me when I was unconscious?

Is it okay for a child so young to be so calm in such circumstances?

“Thank you, Anya,” he said with a soft smile. He was told that he had a cordial relationship with her, but he had also never spent much time around a child, so it was difficult to determine where they actually stood. “I am sorry for worrying you and your mother. It must have been quite scary for you to see a parent like that.”

At first, she didn’t say anything. But the very next moment, she was hugging him tightly, her voice cracking as she pressed her face into his hospital gown.

“I was so scared. There was so much blood,” she wailed, suddenly looking very much like an upset nine-year-old. “I couldn’t hear anything, I thought you were dead,” she continued to mumble as Twilight awkwardly patted her head, a bit taken aback by her actions. “Mama was so relieved when she found your pulse. She had so much trouble calling the ambul – ”

Anya paused in the middle of her story and clamped her mouth shut, surreptitiously moving her head to look up at Twilight. Her green orbs were wide with concern as she watched her father narrowing his sharp blue eyes at her words.

“Uh oh,” she whispered, worried.

Meanwhile, Twilight was struggling to piece it all together. He had been told that a stranger had found him on the side of the road, all bloodied and beaten up, and called an ambulance. Yor and Anya had arrived at the hospital shortly after, followed by Yuri. Handler and Nightfall had been alerted by Frankie.

His mind went back to what Yor had said about talking to the informant the night of his mission. But how did she and Anya find him? Why did they make it seem like someone else had called for help?

Because WISE isn't aware that Yor Briar and Anya Forger know about Twilight.

They did what they did in order to help me maintain my cover.

But how much do they really know?

“Anya,” he addressed the girl kindly. “Is your mother here? I think it’s time we have a small family meeting.”

Chapter Text

Scandalous affairs and secret relationships have always been an important part of espionage.

Sweet nothings whispered in the dead of the night, a lingering gaze followed by a tantalizing touch, the quickening of pulse accompanied by a subtle blush, and the sound of satisfactory hums after a euphoric experience.

These were the secret ingredients of a classic honey trap – and Twilight had mastered them all during his career as a spy for WISE.

In his early years at the agency, he did feel guilty about using his body to extract secrets that would otherwise never see the light of the day. There were also times when he felt like an absolute asshole for deceiving unsuspecting women, despite the fact that each one of them was either a target herself or closely related to one. None of them had been innocent, just like him.

On one particular occasion, he had even expressed his thoughts in front of Sylvia. Twilight had hoped the older spy would offer him some words of wisdom that would help him feel at ease, but she had just looked at him with a pained smile on her face and the proceeded to pour him a glass of wine from a vintage bottle placed inside a hidden compartment in her office.

“Never get attached to your targets, Twilight,” she had told him somberly. “Suspect everyone. Always.”

He had only nodded. At the time, it felt useless to tell her that he felt attracted to the person he was supposed to court as a part of his mission. She was a socialite with a keen interest in antique artifacts and WISE suspected she had been covertly funding a terrorist group using a stolen treasure. Twilight was still a rookie when he had met her, disguised as an art thief. It hadn’t taken long for the two of them to hit it off.

However, the relationship wasn’t serious by any means – at least not serious enough for Twilight to risk the operation, or worst, reveal his identity. It was also the only time he had spared any thoughts to the notions of love and dating. In the end, she was sent to prison on various charges of terrorism and larceny, whereas he was promoted for a job well done.

Twilight wasn’t unaware of the effect he could have on women, which is precisely why it really bothered him how someone as seemingly naive as Yor Forger had managed to coax the truth out of him. Sure, she was beautiful and appeared to be a good mother to Anya, but what was so special about Yor that he had not only introduced her to Frankie but also told her about his identity – or at least his WISE codename.

With sapphire eyes sharply trained on the woman in front of him, Twilight begrudgingly took a spoonful of stew and put it in his mouth. His eyes widened slightly as he chewed his food, relishing the taste and warmth. Although it was an Ostanian dish and he had no memory of eating it as a child, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash all over him.

“It’s delicious,” Twilight told Yor politely, a kind smile playing on his lips as he tried to maintain the façade of Loid Forger. According to his notes, Loid was just a less intense and more patient version of Twilight, which wasn’t that difficult to pull off even in his injured and confused state. “Thank you,” he added, putting another spoonful in his mouth.

The two of them were presently seated in a quiet corner of the cafeteria. Yor had squeaked rather loudly when she had seen him in the hallway earlier. His supposed wife had apparently been looking for Anya and was under the impression he was still in the therapy room.

“You used to like it before your – before your accident,” Yor said quietly, her eyes trained on her hands in her lap. Her black hair was tied in a ponytail and her bangs were secured in place with a headband, which was quite different from the signature hairstyle she seemed to be sporting in most of the family pictures. “I am glad you still like it.”

Twilight pursed his lips and briefly glanced at Anya who had wandered off to the other side of the cafeteria, forcibly pulling Yuri along with her. While the young man grumbled audibly about being tired and done with her antics, he followed the girl around protectively.

It was an unusual sight, watching an SSS officer babysitting the adopted daughter of a Westalian spy.

“I owe you an apology,” he said after a few minutes of silence, repeating the words he had earlier offered to Anya. “It must have been quite scary for you both to witness everything. The staff here told me that you stayed with me the entire time I was unconscious. I am sorry for putting you through that.”

Twilight offered her another weak smile as their eyes finally met.

“You should not be the one apologizing,” Yor said hurriedly, placing both her palms on the table as she leaned forward. “I should be the one saying sorry to you. I kept crying and pestering you when you gained consciousness,” she slightly shook her head, as if admonishing herself. “I should have noticed something was off, that you didn’t recognize us. It must have been so confusing. I am so sorry, Loid.”

Her last words were followed by a wail as she hid her face in her hands, her entire body shaking with barely concealed sobs.

“I was just so glad to see you open your eyes,” she continued, her speech muffled by her hands, but still understandable. “You must have been so distressed because of me.”

Yor was getting louder by the second and other people were now starting to look at them.

Great, Twilight thought. We now have even more attention.

“Err… Yor,” he began softly as he reached out to touch her shoulder, patting it gently in hopes of calming her down. “There is no need to apologize. The doctors are hopeful that my condition is only temporary.”

She sniffled, her face still covered with her hands.

“Actually, umm… I have been told that I can go home tomorrow,” he said and almost sighed from relief when she removed her hands to look at him. “I know it would be difficult, but I would really appreciate it if you and Anya would treat me like you used to do before… well, the accident.”

Twilight had so many questions that he wanted Yor to answer, especially about the night of the attack. If what Anya had said was indeed true, then he also owed his wife a thank you. But this wasn’t a good time to bring it up, considering Yuri and Anya were already making their way over to them, the little girl holding a large pack of peanuts in her hands.

Yor had also wiped off her tears and offered him a watery smile, making her seem younger than her 30 years of age. He wondered once again why she had chosen to stay in this fake marriage for so long. His weekly reports, which he had religiously submitted to the Handler over the last three years, mentioned her motive to marry him. However, it didn’t say exactly how they had managed to continue this charade for so long.

It was yet another thing that bothered Twilight. His reports for the first year were detailed and painted a very clear picture of the day-to-day activities in the Forger household. But as the months began to pass by, his reports had gotten shorter and vague. It was still enough to keep Sylvia satisfied regarding his progress with Operation Strix as well as other smaller missions, but Twilight knew himself better than anyone else, and he could easily tell that his pre-amnesia self had been hiding something from WISE.

He had a sneaking suspicion that Yor had developed feelings for him over the past years. Because why else would she continue playing the role of a dutiful wife even after learning about his secrets?

Yuri and Anya had finally joined them. While Anya had pulled a chair closer to him and linked her arm through his as soon as she was seated, Yuri had chosen to stand behind Yor with his hands folded on his chest. Twilight could sense the tension between the siblings from where he was sitting, which threw him slightly as he remembered reading about the police officer’s obsession with his sister.

“Lottie,” Yuri said, acknowledging him for the first time since he opened his eyes. A smirk formed on the young man’s lip as he saw his brother-in-law flinching at the horrendous nickname. “Glad to see you didn’t kick the bucket in your sleep.”

“Yuri!” Yor yelled at her brother and he had the mind to take a few steps back, probably expecting her to hit him. “How could you say something like that?!” she bellowed, her cheeks reddening as she glared at her sibling rather furiously.

Meanwhile, Anya looked up at her father confusedly, and asked, “Why did you want to kick a bucket, papa?”

Twilight could only sigh in response.

Maybe staying at the hospital for a few more days wouldn’t be that bad, he thought and then almost jumped in surprise when a little hand began to pat his arm.

“There, there,” Anya said sympathetically. “Anya will get papa a bucket to kick as soon as we get back home.”

Chapter Text

Home.

Even the word tasted foreign on his tongue.

The only place Twilight had ever called home was blown to smithereens the day Ostanian airplanes dropped bombs in his hometown, effectively wiping away almost everything he held close to his heart.

He still had nightmares about that day… and everything that followed.

As a child with little understanding of the war, he foolishly thought it would all be okay once his mother found him standing alone amid the destroyed buildings. He had believed her when she told him they would be fine, her warm hands holding his little body tightly against her chest as she hid her tear-stained face into his hair. Despite the smell of smoke in the air and the wails of the injured marring his senses, Twilight had found reprieve in those moments.

Unfortunately, it did not last for long.

No matter how far they would go, they could not escape the atrocities of war. It danced all around them, ravaging everything in its path. The day his mother and the rest of his family fell victim to its curse, Twilight realized there was no running from this fight. Not for him.

He let all his anger and frustration turn him into someone who would go to any lengths to annihilate the enemy. Years shy of being an adult, Twilight witnessed events that would traumatize even the strongest of the veterans, yet his will to avenge the deaths of his family and friends surpassed every other feeling his numb body could process.

Roland Spoofy was a tragic young man who thought he would die on the battlefield.

He didn’t believe he had a future.

Yet, here he was, standing in front of a gallery wall full of color-coordinated photo frames chronicling the lives of a black-haired woman, a green-eyed child, a large white dog, and a tall man with a relaxed smile that Twilight could not recognize anymore.

Only if Roland could see this, he thought fleetingly before turning his attention to the other individual present inside the Forger residence: Yor Forger.

Their ride from the hospital had been more or less uneventful, which was something Twilight was truly thankful for because he was in no condition to engage in a fight… or break one off. When Nightfall had insisted on driving him and Yor to 128 Park Avenue, he had agreed without much fervor as he assumed being alone with his supposed wife could be a little awkward. Besides, he was informed that Yor knew his former mentee as Fiona Frost, a colleague that Loid Forger worked with at the hospital.

However, he should have deduced that the two women could not stand each other. Judging by the glaring match between the pair, Twilight was worried that either Nightfall would push Yor out of the vehicle or Yor would haul her off the car and into the oncoming traffic. 

It was uncomfortable, to say the least.

You should not concern yourself with these trivialities, Twilight reminded himself. There was a lot your reports did not say, so it would be premature to ascertain the relationship between Yor and Nightfall based on their limited interaction.

Also, though he would never admit it out loud, he sort of missed having Anya with them. It wasn’t because he felt particularly affectionate towards the kid, but because he knew she would have said something extremely perceptive yet nonsensical to break this tension. However, she had gone to school after making sure she would see him at home when she came back.

Though he had only spent a few hours with Anya since coming around, Twilight could see her potential to become an Imperial Scholar. His reports from last year had also talked extensively about the improvement in her grades as well as her growing interest in extracurricular activities. Although, while he appreciated all the information he could glean on her progress at Eden Academy, he did find it a little irksome that his pre-amnesia self had gushed over the fact that his adopted daughter could finally tell C Major apart from A Minor during her WISE-sponsored piano lessons.

He had felt embarrassed just reading that.

Did I get soft with age? Twilight wondered, not for the first time.

Now, coming back to the problem at hand, Nightfall had dropped them off in front of their apartment building and drove off with a sour impression on her face. He was pretty sure it had something to do with Yor referring to him as ‘my husband’ at least half a dozen times as she gathered their belongings from the back of the sedan and double-checked his hospital bag for his medicines, a saccharine-sweet smile playing on her lips as she waved goodbye to Fiona.

“Welcome home, Loid,” his wife had said pleasantly a few minutes later as she unlocked the door to their apartment. Twilight had given her a forced smile before pausing at the threshold and motioning for her to enter first. To an outsider, it would seem like a polite gesture. However, to anyone in the world of espionage, it was a prerequisite that could help spies maneuver around hidden traps.

Once they were inside the home he had apparently lived in for the past three years, Yor had asked him to take a seat on the sofa and made her way into the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea. While she rummaged through the cabinets for some light snacks, Twilight quickly searched his bags for any bugs or tracking devices before scanning the room for any possible points of entry.

By the time Yor had come out with a tray holding two cups of steaming beverage and a plate of cookies, he was staring at the collection of photos adorning the wall.

“We should take a new family photo once you are feeling a little better,” she said with a smile, perfectly playing the role of a dutiful housewife. “Nevertheless, this portrait will always be close to my heart. It was the first photo we took together after adopting Bond.”

The first of many, it seems.

He understood that Forgers had to keep up the pretense of being a normal and happy family. However, a few fake photos would have done the trick. Twilight could not understand why they had felt the need to go on so many picnics, pose at the beach in matching swimsuits, and attend some sort of festival dressed like characters from a spy cartoon meant for children.

“It must be a lot to take in,” Yor’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. “Let’s have some tea, Loid. Once Anya is home from school, we can go for a walk to our favorite park or maybe visit that restaurant by the pier for dinner. You really enjoy their lobster rolls.”

“That's interesting,” he said nonchalantly as he followed her to the couch, his face a mask of impassiveness as he took a seat next to her. “I don’t remember being fond of lobster rolls. But then again, I don’t remember a lot of things.”

Yor was silent for a few moments, her mouth opening and closing a few times as a red flush colored her cheeks. If she noticed how he had not even touched the cup of tea she had set before him, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she picked up her own cup and took a small sip, seemingly trying to gather her thoughts.

“Of course,” she replied after a few beats, looking anywhere but at him. “I’m sorry for being so forward, Loid. I keep reminding myself that you have no memory of holding Anya for the first time or meeting me. I can’t imagine how overwhelming this all must be for you, not knowing anything that happened in the last ten years.”

That’s right. To tie up any loose ends, the WISE doctors had told Yor and Anya that Loid had lost his memories for the past decade, which gave him more leeway with those who knew him as a respectable father who had remarried after losing his first wife.

“There are no apologies needed, Yor,” he said gently. “I think I will need some time to get acclimated to… well, this,” he added, gesturing between them. “Therefore, it would really help if you could answer some of my questions, preferably before Anya gets here.”

Yor nodded quickly, her eyes wide and her lips pressed in a thin line. She looked like she was torn between wanting to run away and sitting even closer to him.

Twilight cleared his throat.

“It was your voice that woke me up back at the hospital,” he began, not missing how she blushed furiously at his words. “You told me who I was, but you also said something else.”

“Did I?” she asked, worry lacing her voice as she began twiddling her fingers. A nervous trait, he presumed.

“Yes, you mentioned how ‘Loid’ suited me more than another name.”

There, he said it.

The words that had been weighing on his conscious since the moment he had heard them had finally been spoken aloud.

He watched Yor shift her position on the couch and his body tensed in response. For a brief moment, he saw her fingers dig into the fabric of the seat; her lower lip trembled before she regained her composure.

Like a switch being turned on, the color of her eyes darkened from a bright red to blood red. The woman who appeared meek and submissive just moments prior was replaced by someone he had barely seen a glimpse of at the hospital the very first night he had woken up. She looked ready to either flee or fight, but did not make any move that would alert him.

“Can it wait?” she asked in a low voice. “Anya will be here in a few minutes, we can talk about it after she has gone to bed.”

“I would rather we get it over with before she comes back,” he replied truthfully. “I have a feeling this conversation would not be appropriate for a child.”

“Are you going to take her away from me?”

What?

Of all the things, Twilight had not expected Yor to utter those words.

Filing the information away in his mind for future use, the master spy did not let his façade slip even a smidge as he shook his head. “I just want to know why you said what you said, Yor.”

The woman in front of him relaxed just a little, but he could tell she could still block him if he tried to get up.

“We have been living together for three years,” she said, glancing at the clock before turning her attention towards him. “To answer your question, I am aware of who you are, Twilight.”

Damn it.

As if on autopilot, his hand reached for the pistol in his shoulder holster, but before he could point it at her, Yor had jumped on top of him. In less than a second, she had pinned his arm above his head and was straddling him on the couch, restricting his movements. He could not ignore how she tried her best not to hit him on the head in the process, mindful of his injuries while still incapacitating him.

A small gasp escaped her mouth when she felt the cold barrel of his firearm pressed firmly to her side. His left arm was still free, and his finger was placed on the trigger.

“Don’t try anything –”

“I am not your enemy,” her voice rang through the room. “I would never do anything to hurt you or Anya. I would die before letting anything happen to our family.”

Twilight did not respond. As someone who lied for a living, he had a habit of doubting everything and everyone. In another situation, he would not have hesitated to shoot the other party at a non-fatal spot and then dragged them to a nearby safe house for a thorough investigation.

Yet, he could not bring himself to hurt her.

A million thoughts swarmed his head as he continued to press his gun against her ribs, his steel eyes focused on hers. He was not a proponent of hurting women and children for his missions, but it was also the first time he had been compromised like this.

“Twilight,” she addressed him directly, her tone pleading. “I don’t want to do this in front of our daughter. She has been distraught since the night of your accident. I promise to answer all of your questions once she is safely in her bed, just promise you won’t ditch us…”

Before he could affirm or deny her request, the sound of footsteps on the stairs drew both of their attention.

“It must be Anya,” Yor said, loosening her grip on his wrist. “Just remember that we are a team, you and me.”

“A team?” he cocked an eyebrow, finally lowering the gun. He may not fully believe her, but he was not about to shoot an unarmed woman just feet away from a child. “I am not a team player, Miss Briar.”

“Allies, then,” she laughed lightly, her thighs squeezing his hips just once before she moved back to her seat on the couch. “Also, it’s Mrs. Forger.”

Twilight wanted to ask her why she wasn’t afraid of him. More importantly, why in the world was she so freakishly strong? Did she train in the mountains or something? Did he ask her to take self-defense lessons so she could protect herself and Anya when he wasn’t around?

“You should hide your gun before your daughter sees it,” Yor added quickly as she fixed her long sweater dress, glancing at the door at the sound of a key being inserted into the lock. “She has been asking you to get her one for ages.”

“Why would a child–” Twilight was cut off as the door slammed open and a loud voice reverberated through the entire apartment.

“Anya is home,” the girl announced happily, the pitter-patter of her small feet audible against the hardwood floor as she made her way into the living room.

Twilight had expected a bout of excitement and even a round of tears, but nothing had prepared him for the way she smiled after seeing him sitting on the couch.

Hell, he didn’t even remember the last time someone had looked at him with so much adoration. Maybe it was the drugs he had been prescribed or maybe he was still dealing with some undisclosed trauma to the head, but at that moment, he was reminded of how his mother used to welcome him whenever he would come back home after playing with his friends for hours.

“Papa,” Anya ran towards him, her arms reaching out to grab onto his shirt as he picked her up almost instinctively. “Welcome home.”

He couldn’t help but smile when her tiny arms circled around his neck as she hugged him tightly, his own hand automatically coming up to rub soothing circles on her back. Over Anya’s shoulder, Twilight caught a glimpse of Yor wiping away the moisture in her eyes.

“Tonight,” she mouthed at him before making her way into the kitchen, leaving him no choice but to nod surreptitiously.

Chapter Text

It was safe to say that Twilight was not a huge fan of Loid Forger.

Yes, that’s right.

In the time it had taken Anya to change out of her school uniform and into her casual clothes, her adopted father had covertly searched her schoolbag for anything, double-checked the front door to make sure it was secure, and ultimately reached the decision to distance himself from the choices made by his pre-amnesia self, whom he was only going to refer to as Loid.

Despite possessing years of additional knowledge and experience, he had spent the last three years ruining his reputation as a top spy in Westalis. Operation Strix was nowhere near its conclusion, which meant their two countries were still on the brink of war. The latest round of attacks could potentially kill hundreds of thousands of innocent people, something that Twilight never wanted to witness again.

Yet, instead of actively putting a stop to it all, Loid had been wasting time playing house with a peculiar woman and a child who appeared to have zero boundaries. To make matters worse, he had disclosed his identity to at least two civilians, one of whom was closely related to an undercover SSS agent.

As if all of that was not bad enough, Loid was also supremely careless. He had not only fallen into a trap set by an unknown party but also got severely injured in the process. Hell, from what he had learned from Anya’s little slip-up at the hospital, he had to be rescued by his wife and daughter.

To further add to his confusion, Yor was continuing to treat him as if he were her actual husband, even after he had pointed his gun at her. There was a possibility that she had something on him and had chosen to stay for her ulterior motives, but he had seen the background checks Loid had done on her when they first met. But nothing stood out.

Could it be that… we were sleeping together?

“Papa and mama sleep in the room down the hall,” Anya suddenly quipped, her voice high. She had been scribbling something in her notebook, which was spread open before them on the coffee table. “Anya sleeps in her own room. It has a sign on the door,” she added from her position on the floor opposite him.

Not knowing how to respond to that odd piece of information, Twilight just gave her a tightlipped smile. The kid already looked a little out of sorts; he didn’t want to do anything to make her any more upset.

It was astonishing how quickly her mood had changed after greeting him. One moment, she was hugging him while smiling ear to ear, and the next moment, she was jumping down from his arms and inquiring if she could sleep in his room tonight because she was scared. Twilight had also noticed how the girl was trying to catch her mother’s eye in the kitchen, but Yor was too busy massacring the vegetables to pay attention to anything else.

Well, at least he had been truthful about Yor’s cooking in his reports. The smell wafting from the kitchen sealed that fact.

Should I offer to cook? Would it be suspicious for me to know that she is not particularly good at it?

“Don’t worry, I asked Scruffy to bring us something delicious for dinner,” Anya spoke up again, this time whispering conspiratorially. “He said you will have to pay him double for looking after Bond and saving us from food poisoning.”

That made him chuckle.

Maybe it was a good thing that Loid had developed a close connection with Anya. It was also a little shocking because his relationship with his own father had never been a walk in the park. His dad may have been a good man, but he was strict. Plus, Twilight could not imagine saying to him even half the things that Anya had said to him since he had woken up.

“Do your mother and Frankie get along?” he asked her nonchalantly. His eyes were focused on the young girl even if it seemed like he was scanning the front page of the newspaper in his hands. “And what do you think of him?”

Tilting her head, Anya seemed lost in thought for a moment. He was beginning to notice that she did this quite often when talking to him.

Perhaps I should rephrase the question.

“He is your best friend, so mama and I also like him,” she explained before he could say anything else. Her small shoulders rose in a half shrug. “He also gets along with mama,” she added. “Mama once helped him find a cat so he could impress a lady…” she trailed off after that, her eyes moving back to her math worksheet.

Children get distracted so easily.

Wincing internally at the sound of something bubbling viciously on the stove, Twilight put down the newspaper and began to sift through the report cards.

It was time to put Operation Strix on a fast track. Loid may have nudged things a little, but Twilight needed to watch the mission reach its final stage so he could wrap everything up in Berlint and go back… to WISE headquarters for his next assignment.

Unfortunately, the report cards he was holding left him with a bad taste in his mouth. His daughter had not failed a single subject, but that was about it. She had not received a single A in any of her classes. In addition, all of her attempts at completing her math homework this evening had been nothing short of disastrous.

However, Twilight didn’t blame Anya.

He blamed Loid.

Had his older self paid more attention to how his adopted daughter was doing at school, WISE would have already obtained the required information from Donovan Desmond and put an end to this operation. Nevertheless, due to her limited intellect, the girl was only halfway down the road to becoming an Imperial Scholar – and she was already in third grade.

Why didn’t he adopt a brighter child? Actually, was there a way he could replace her with another kid without her teachers noticing?

“Waah!”

The wail that suddenly filled the living room caught Twilight by surprise. Yet, he still managed to grab her school books from the table before Anya toppled over the cup of hot cocoa she had been occasionally sipping on. The girl looked close to tears, though when she tried to stand up and move away from the table, she ended up bumping her knee against one of its legs, resulting in an even louder wail leaving her throat.

“Oh no,” Yor yelped as she sprinted towards them. “Anya, are you hurt?”

Grabbing tissues to clean the warm liquid dribbling down the edge of the table, Twilight also peered over Yor’s shoulder to look at the pink-haired child, who only shot him a dirty look before hugging the woman.

What just happened?

“Anya, do you want me to take a look at it?” he asked regardless of her reaction, letting the right amount of worry lace his voice as he moved closer to the pair on the floor.

However, before he could reach out to them, Anya visibly shirked away.

Did I do something to make her uncomfortable?

“Stay away from me,” Anya all but yelled at him, fat drops of tears freely rolling down her face. “I want my old papa back, the one who loved me and mama.”

Twilight stopped in his tracks. He had no time to discern (or think too much about) the odd sensation of nausea bubbling in his chest. Meanwhile, Yor gasped and hugged Anya tightly. She also tried to smile at him reassuringly, but it did not have the effect she was probably hoping for.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, Anya,” he began again. The trained agent also saw how his daughter’s gaze briefly shifted to the spot below his shoulder where he had strapped his pistol, before flitting back to his face. It seemed as if she was searching for something, but apparently could not find it because her shoulders drooped in disappointment.

“Anya doesn’t want to talk to papa,” she replied with a hiccup before turning to Yor, “I will complete my homework in my room.”

With that, she yanked back the books in Twilight’s hands and ran to her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“I am so sorry,” Yor said after a moment of stunned silence. “Anya is such a good kid. She must be on edge, because of everything…”

“How much does she know?”

Yor blinked at him confusedly before realization dawned on her face.

“Oh… well, I never told her anything, but sometimes it feels like she knows more than both of us combined,” the sadness in Yor’s voice was palpable as she picked up the cup of hot cocoa that was lying sideways on the table. “A child should not have to worry about such things. She is too young, Loid.”

It was true. Twilight had become a spy so he could protect children like Anya from the fate he had been forced to endure. He was also aware of how Yor had to raise her younger brother singlehandedly after losing her parents. Hence, it made sense that neither of them wanted another child to live through the horrors they had gone through.

“It is my fault,” her voice broke his train of thoughts. “I am doing a horrible job at managing things. If our roles were reversed, you would have known exactly how to handle Anya and me. But I am just making everything worse.”

The spy pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling another headache coming in. The doctors had told him to relax and take it easy for a few days, which was ironic because he was more stressed out right now than he was after waking up at the hospital.

“I don’t think you are doing a bad job,” he told the woman in front of him. He may not trust her, but he could see that her feelings for Anya were as real as they could get. “I feel like a stranger in this house, and I am sure I projected some of those feelings onto Anya tonight,” Twilight continued. “So, if anyone is at fault, it’s me.”

The smile he offered her was forced and weak, yet the one she returned seemed more genuine than he had expected. It was moments like these with her that made him question the dynamics of this family.

Did Loid somehow grow to truly care for these people? Did he let his feelings for his fake family cloud his judgment? Did he tell Yor about his real occupation in a moment of weakness or did she find out about it through someone else? Did she know who had attacked him? Were the rest of the Forgers also in danger because of him?

“What are you thinking?” Yor asked as reached out to smooth the creases on his forehead.

How could she touch me so casually yet blush fiercely at the most random moments?

“I know we agreed to discuss this later, but I am curious…” Twilight leaned closer to her. “How long have you known about me?”

“Not too long,” she replied.

“And how did you find out?”

“Loid…”

“What happened the night of my accident?”

“It’s a long story.”

Twilight sighed.

This was it. He had no other option.

He was going to come clean and tell WISE about everything. The Handler could then decide what to do with Yor and Anya because he already had a lot on his plate. They would probably be sent to a neutral country and asked never to come back. It also meant he would never see them again.

It should not matter. I have bigger things to worry about.

He continued sitting on the couch even after Yor went back to the kitchen and decided to start from scratch. She was in the process of scrubbing the soot off the saucepan when the sound of the doorbell alerted them of a guest. The loud ding was followed by a series of barks, which Anya must have heard because she was out of her room in an instant.

“We missed you too, Bond,” Yor said with a laugh as she opened the door and welcomed the large dog inside their home. The hairy pup first ran towards Anya before turning his attention to Twilight, who gently scratched a spot behind the dog’s ear, a feeling of déjà vu washing all over him once again.

Muscle memory, he reminded himself, just like when you hugged Anya earlier.

He watched as Bond and Anya disappeared down the hallway, with Yor hot on their heels.

“It’s good to see you in one piece, buddy,” Frankie said as a way of greeting. Entering the apartment, he handed Twilight a large paper bag with visible grease stains. “The Forger family loves hamburgers these days, so I thought what could be better than some oily fast food to celebrate your survival.”

“Thanks, Frankie,” Twilight couldn’t help but smile, glad to see a friendly face after the madness of the past week. “I am hoping you made sure you weren’t followed.”

“Of course,” the shorter man scoffed. “Who do you think I am?”

“Good,” the spy nodded. “Next question, have I been compromised?”

It was meant to be a serious query, but Frankie found it funny for some reason.

“You are in some deep shit, my friend,” he said casually while making his way towards the dining table. “I don’t think your cover is blown. The perpetrator did not take off your mask before leaving you for dead in that alley. My guess is that he just knew when you would be there but did not know what you looked like.”

Twilight glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone in the living room.

“That means I was the target, not Loid Forger.”

“Probably,” Frankie shrugged. “Is it true what your family and employers think about your condition?”

“Yes,” he sighed.

“Seriously?” the informant asked. “Shit, man. How do you look so calm?”

“I can’t afford to lose my mind now, can I?”

Frankie only chuckled in response, a tiny bit of sympathy seeping into his expressions.

“In that case, we need to have a long chat.”

Chapter Text

“Let me get this straight,” Frankie peered at him from behind his thick square-framed glasses. “You upset your daughter and pointed a gun at your wife, all within the span of a few hours?”

“Not in that same order,” Twilight muttered under his breath, trying to ignore the guilt pawing at the pit of his stomach. He still wasn’t sure what he had done to upset Anya earlier, but he was planning to apologize nonetheless once she returned from her walk with Bond and Yor.

It is vital for the success of Operation Strix, he told himself. I need to maintain good relationships with the Forgers until this mission reaches its conclusion.

Frankie was still staring at him, looking as unimpressed as ever. The spy had noticed how the other man had conversed freely with his fake family at the dinner table, even going as far as to crack jokes at the expense of an amnesiac person having somewhat of an identity crisis. However, Twilight had to admit that the informant’s presence in the Forger household had slightly alleviated the dark cloud of tension that had settled over its three occupants.

Anya had brightened up after reuniting with Bond, though she had taken to completely ignoring her father. Meanwhile, Bond seemed delighted to have come back home. Yor was also playing the role of a gracious host perfectly. Her conviction was almost scary as she quietly set the table, her features forcefully arranged to convey the image of a polite housewife who could not be happier to have her husband back from the hospital.

After the dinner, when Anya had suggested taking Bond out for a quick walk, Yor had jumped at the opportunity to accompany the duo. Twilight did not have to be a spy to figure out that the woman wanted to give him some time to recuperate and get his thoughts together.

“Man, you have no idea how many times I told you not to get emotionally involved,” Frankie sighed, breaking the stagnant silence that had befallen the room. “But to be honest, it couldn’t be that bad to wake up one day to find out you have a pretty wife and a little gremlin of a daughter.”

“They are not my real family,” Twilight reminded him for what felt like the sixth time in the past half hour. While he was glad that Frankie had decided to come over with his treasure trove of intel on Operation Strix as well as the missions from the past year, he was also beginning to realize that it was a waste of time. He had already seen all of these transcriptions, maps, and reports at the hospital, courtesy of the Handler.

Something feels off.

“Are you sure this is everything?” he asked coolly.

“Yeah, pretty much. Why?”

“There doesn’t seem to be anything here indicating what happened the night of my last mission.”

Frankie, who had taken to casually flipping through the channels on TV, suddenly looked up at him from his position on the couch.

“Huh?”                                            

“How did you figure out that I would be attacked?”

There was a beat of silence.

It looked like Frankie was trying to gauge the situation but ended up shrugging his shoulders in defeat under Twilight’s scrutinizing gaze.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t bring that up,” he grumbled and sat up straighter, a finger pushing up the glasses that had slid down the bridge of his nose. “Looks like your special lady friend has already caught you up to speed, so what are you hounding me for?” he addressed the spy, a glint of accusation swimming in his eyes.

Twilight furrowed his eyebrows, fixing the man in front of him with a dark glare.

He wasn’t in the mood to indulge in pointless banter with someone who was probably his only friend in the world, but Frankie’s cryptic answers had begun to truly piss him off.

“I highly doubt Sylvia would appreciate you calling her that,” he deadpanned. “Unless you are talking about Nightfall… though she would probably kill you for uttering those words.”

On the other side of the room, Frankie appeared to choke on air.

“Dude, what the…” he began incredulously. “Wait, let’s back up a little. Who told you about me figuring out it was a trap?”

Yor. Her name was on the tip of his tongue, but he held himself back. Twilight had no idea how much Frankie knew about his current predicament and compromised status, but he sure as hell wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

“I was barely conscious at the time, but I clearly heard someone telling me that,” he said instead, his voice smooth and self-assured as ever. “There was no way they could have known about my condition though, considering even I didn’t know about it at that point.”

“Interesting,” Frankie nodded, a thoughtful expression covering his face. “Listen, I really think you should give it a rest. No one suspects Loid Forger of being a spy and whoever attacked you probably thinks WISE took care of your dead body. If your special lady friend has already made contact with you, it means she is well aware of your memory loss.”

“Who is she?”

A fellow WISE agent perhaps, his mind reasoned. However, he had a bad feeling about the way Frankie kept addressing this individual.

“Man, it must really suck to forget about both your wife and your secret girlfriend in one night,” the informant chuckled almost evilly, pointing a finger at a flabbergasted Twilight. “It’s a pity. No one knew about your clandestine relationship besides you and her, and now that you don’t remember anything, she must be in a really awkward position, don’t you think?”

Silence.

His mind was racing a mile per minute.

If Loid had an affair, the Handler would have known about it. Besides, having another woman in his life would be detrimental to the success of Operation Strix.

So, what in the world was going on?

“All I could tell you right now is that I had a hunch that turned out to be true. Someone shared your location on a radio frequency I sometimes monitor. They never said your name, but it felt like too much of a coincidence so I decided to check it out,” Frankie continued. “It’s apparent now that the message was intended for your attacker, but as you know, hindsight is always 20/20.”

“Why didn’t you alert my employer?”

“I was going to do just that, but then the phone rang and your mistress inquired about your location. So, I told her.”

It was clear that Frankie was having a great time messing with him when he was on the verge of a breakdown. However, the spy persisted.

“Who are you talking about?” he asked again, gritting his teeth.

“You told me to get in touch with her if something ever happened to you,” Frankie responded. “I have never met her and I still have my doubts, but it seems like she ended up saving you, so maybe I should thank her the next time we talk.”

“Frankie, who the fuck… I mean, why would you alert this mystery woman but not the agency?”

“You told me not to.”

It was a simple reply, but it affirmed what he had recently learned: The other version of him was indeed keeping secrets from WISE.

"Do you at least know what she does?"

Is she also a spy? An influential figure? A politician? 

"If I told you it might put both of us in danger."

To say Twilight was losing his patience would be an understatement. He was inches away from grabbing the other man by his collar and shaking some sense into him when the ding of the elevator drew his attention.

“Looks like your family is back,” Frankie said smugly, dusting invisible crumbs from his clothes as stood up and began to make his way towards the door. “I will contact you once I find out more information about your attacker. Until then, spend some time with Yor and Anya, they deserve a break from this madness as much as you do.”

Barely a minute later, a chorus of voices filled the apartment. Bond was barking gleefully, while Yor was once again thanking Frankie for looking after their giant dog for the past week. He also noticed how his friend reached out to ruffle Anya’s hair and told her to be patient with her papa as he was still recovering from his accident.

To an outsider, it would seem like a wholesome moment.

But to Twilight, it was a cacophony of noises that invoked a troubling feeling deep inside him, threatening to swallow him whole.

He had burned any desires to have a family of his own in a drum of fire all those years ago, along with his real identity and the meager possessions that made him who he was.

That young man had chosen to sacrifice himself for a vision of a peaceful future – and he was so close to attaining that.

Yet, something had happened in the last three years to veer him off track.

While there was no sensible explanation that his mind could fathom, a minuscule part of him briefly wondered how great it would be to just live as Loid Forger – a respected member of the society with a perfect family. However, he also knew it was all too good to be true. Someone like him could not even afford to dream of a life like this.

He belonged in the shadows, watching from the periphery as everyone around him continued to experience a life he would never dare to imagine.

That night, when Yor showed him to his room, Twilight had no energy to ask her for an explanation. Instead, he politely thanked her and watched as she retreated into her own room, her steps soft and unsure. He did not hear the sound of her locking her door, but he did notice that even though Loid's bed looked exactly like how the WISE agent would have made it, it felt like no one had slept in it for quite some time.

Shaking his head, he began his search. Thankfully, there were no bugs hidden under the bed and all the seals on the cupboards were completely intact. His ears also strained to hear any noise coming from the other two rooms, but he was only made privy to soft snores and rustling of the sheets.

Fearing another wave of blinding headache, Twilight changed into his pajamas and laid down on the bed, his gun secured safely under his pillow.

Tomorrow, he promised himself before drifting off in a fitful sleep.

Chapter Text

Twilight raised an arm to shield his eyes against the brightness that streamed in through the window. Granted, it was merely a sliver of a gap between the curtains that allowed the rays of sunlight to enter the room, but it had been bothering him for quite some time and he could not muster enough strength to do anything about it. Perhaps, if his head had not felt heavy and his body cooperated with him, he would have stood up and pulled the thick fabric close.

Yet, he continued to lie there, grimacing.

You’ve gotten sloppy, Twilight. A voice muttered in his head.

It took a few more minutes for the spy to finally pull himself up into a seating position and squint at the sole source of light illuminating the otherwise dark room. His sweat-soaked nightshirt stuck to his chest as he rested his head against the wooden headboard, trying hard not to think about the recurring dream that had haunted him the entire night.

It was not anything harrowing, but a mixture of guilt and confusion churned his stomach as he remembered waking up throughout the night, clutching at the sheets next to him. Every single time he had opened his eyes, his mind had conjured up an image of ruby red orbs staring back at him. However, they would vanish almost as soon as he would reach out.

The doctors had warned him about it. They had explained how some patients experienced sudden flashes of memories when they least expected it, which he admitted, could be disarming. He had also been prescribed sleeping pills to aid in his recovery, but he had decided against taking them last night for three main reasons.

First, he didn’t trust his surroundings.

Second, there were no undercover WISE agents standing guard at his door as they did back at the hospital.

Third, he was lying in a bed a few feet away from the woman and child who could be the end of him as a spy.

Once the pounding in his head subsided to a dull throb and he didn’t feel as if the slightest movement would send a wave of nausea rolling through his body, Twilight realized how the apartment felt eerily silent. A quick glance at the alarm clock told him it was 9 in the morning, which meant Anya and Yor had already left.  

While it was worrisome that he had slept through his adopted daughter getting ready for school and his fake wife making breakfast in the kitchen, Twilight decided not to dwell on it. After all, he was still recovering from a traumatic injury.

Without wasting another second, the agent got out of the bed and walked into the empty living room. Everything looked the same as he had left it last night, except for the light pink note placed on the dining table next to a plate of slightly burnt toasts.

I hope you’re feeling a little better this morning. There is fresh decaf in the pot and your cereal is in the top left cabinet. I will try to come back before lunch so we can talk. Please don’t cook anything, will grab something for us to eat from your favorite restaurant.

Love, Yor.

P.S. Left Bond with our downstairs neighbor so you can get more sleep.

Twilight read it more than once, looking for any hidden clues that he may have missed at the first glance. However, no matter how he looked at it, it was just an innocent note. Sure, she had used a term of endearment while signing off, but maybe Forgers were in a habit of doing that?

Placing the piece of paper back on the table, the spy rolled his shoulders and stretched, a satisfying hum leaving his throat as he felt his joints pop and settle into place.

Well, breakfast can wait.

It was the prime opportunity to conduct a thorough search of the entire apartment. While he had looked for bugs and trackers in the living room and kitchen last evening, he had not had a chance to enter Anya and Yor’s bedrooms.

In two long strides, he was standing outside the door with a small floral plaque. Turning the doorknob, he gently pushed it open and slipped inside, careful not to touch or move anything. After everything that had transpired the night before, he did not want to upset Anya any further.

For the first time since becoming a spy, Twilight felt disappointed at himself for mishandling a mission. He should have figured out another way to proceed with Operation Strix instead of involving a small child in it. WISE wasn’t callous but there were times when his agency thought of civilians only as assets, and he would hate to think that he had ended up becoming the same.

Thankfully, he did not spot anything suspicious in that room, which looked quite similar to the photos he had submitted to his agency at the start of the mission. Sure, there were more posters on the walls than before and the bed was filled with several stuffed animals, some even taller than Anya, but it somehow looked the same.

He smiled at the comic books and action figures peeking from underneath the pile of schoolbooks on the desk. At the very least, he and Yor seemed to have given Anya some semblance of a normal childhood.

After taking a quick look at the windows and inside the closet, Twilight stepped out of the room and made his way over to the next one.

Surprisingly, Yor had also chosen to leave her door unlocked. He briefly wondered if she had done that on purpose, knowing he would be tempted to look inside. However, in the end, his rationality won over as he pushed the door open.

Her room was not only bigger than his but it also looked like someone lived there, whereas his had felt more like a guestroom with bare walls and sparsely decorated shelves. He also noticed how Yor liked to keep everything clean, with not a speck of dust to be found anywhere. Her bed had also been made and her nightgown was hanging at the back of the door, next to a grey t-shirt that was several sizes bigger than her.

Twilight moved to her dresser, observing how everything was arranged in neat lines. The bottles of perfume, a tube of eyeliner, and a few lipsticks adorned the surface of the wooden furniture. However, what caught his attention was the set of cufflinks lying next to a small dish holding a few small pieces of jewelry. The cufflinks were silver and undoubtedly meant for men. He also spotted men’s cologne in her room, along with two pairs of sunglasses, only one of which could have belonged to Yor.

Did she place these items in her room to confuse him? Yor did not seem the type who would go to such great lengths only to mess with him, which begged the question, was she seeing someone behind his back?

No, his mind supplied. If she were cheating on her husband, would she have left these things out in the open for him to find? Besides, according to Frankie, Loid was the one with a potential secret girlfriend. 

The only other explanation was that he had placed his belongings in her bedroom to fool any guests who might grow suspicious about their living arrangement. However, that thought fled his mind the moment he opened her closet, only to be greeted by two rows of clothes – hers and his.

Fuck.

He had taken note of an almost empty closet in his bedroom, wondering if he was behind on laundry. But this was… incriminating, to say the least. While he would not be shocked to find out that they had slept together or indulged in other inappropriate activities, he had no plausible justification for why he would move in with her quite literally.

Unfortunately, there was only one person who could answer his questions truthfully, and she won’t be back until lunch.

---

By the time Yor returned, Twilight was sitting on the sofa, reading one of the books he had found in his room. A hot shower and breakfast had done wonders for his mind and body, and a few hours of silence had given him ample to recollect his thoughts and come up with a new game plan.

He needed to rebuild his relationship with the Forgers. Instead of trying to pick things up where his pre-amnesia self had left them, Twilight had to start from scratch. He had to win back their trust and ease them into divulging how much they knew about his mission.

Would it be prudent to let Sylvia know? He was still on the fence about that one.

“Loid, I’m back,” Yor announced as soon as she entered the home. He didn’t hear any barks or whine coming from the doorway, so he assumed Bond was still downstairs.

When she finally came into his view, he saw that she was carrying two large brown bags, with two smaller ones hanging from his wrists.  

“I stopped by the supermarket on my way back,” she explained as he approached her, taking some of the weight off her, even though she didn’t seem to be struggling at all. “The cashier did not seem very pleased to see me, but at least I didn’t cause any damage this time…” she trailed off, depositing the groceries onto the counter before finally turning to look at him.

“Hi,” Yor smiled at him after a moment of silence. Her easygoing demeanor from moments ago had quickly morphed into something he could only label as nervousness and uncertainty.

“Hello,” he replied, a polite smile playing on his lips.

Her mood switches were intriguing, to say the least.

“I got some curry rice from that place you discovered next to the bookstore,” she informed him in an effort to continue the conversation. “But then I thought you might want something else, so I also got Hamburg steaks from the restaurant that Anya loves so much.”

She wrung her hands as he looked inside the bags. “You still like those, right?” she asked worriedly.

“Of course,” he chuckled, placing the bag with steaks on the counter and moving towards the dining table with the other one in hand. “Thank you for being so thoughtful, Yor. Though I’m sure I could have quickly whipped up something for lunch.”

“Of course,” she repeated his words before quickly taking off her pink coat and placing it on the rack near the front door. “I-I will change out of my uniform and join you in a few minutes.”

Before he could answer, she had all but dashed into the bathroom.

She is wary of you, he reminded himself. After all, you pointed a gun at her.

He decided to set the table and place the takeout into their individual plates as he waited for her to return, which she did less than five minutes later, wearing a light blue blouse with a darker skirt. Her hair was loose, falling in waves around her shoulder, instead of being held back by a headband.

“I am sorry if we woke you up this morning,” she began softly. “Anya really didn’t want to go to school today.”

“You guys didn’t wake me up,” he said truthfully, pulling out a chair for her before taking a seat on the opposite side. “However, I would have liked to see you both off. It would have given me a chance to apologize.”

“Loid, you don’t have to-”

“I do,” he sighed. “Ever since I woke up in that hospital bed, you and Anya have been nothing but kind and understanding about this whole thing. I admit that my condition has thrown me off balance, but my behavior was inexcusable.”

Yor shook her head, which somehow reminded him of their meeting at the cafeteria.

“You were confused and overwhelmed, and admittedly, I could have chosen my words more wisely,” her eyes – the same eyes that had managed to occupy his waking moments last night – looked sad. “I knew you wouldn’t have hurt me. It was just a reflex, so there is no need to apologize.”

How was she so sure he wouldn’t have pressed the trigger? Granted, he was aware that Anya could come home at any minute, but he could have seriously harmed her.

“Why do you trust him so much?”

“Him?” she tilted her head, confused.

“Loid,” he answered, his voice barely audible.

Yor settled back against her chair, the spoon hanging limply from her nimble fingers as she appeared to mull over his words. She stared at him for a few beats, and he wondered if he should change the topic to something a little less heavy and a lot more important – such as why were his clothes in her room and why did Anya think that Yor had saved him that fateful night.

He also couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to what Frankie had said last night. While there was a good chance that the man was just being dramatic, there was at least one other woman Loid Forger was somehow involved with.

“Yor, let’s forget-”

“I trust him because he is a part of you.”

He stopped mid-sentence.

She giggled at his confused expression.

“The way I see it, Loid and Twilight are small parts of who you are – just like Robert, Lionel, Lawrence, and countless other identities you have created over the years,” she continued and he listened, his jaw set and eyes narrowing with every word that left her mouth. How much did she really know about him? How much had he told her?

Yor, on the other hand, either did not notice the change in his demeanor or chose to ignore it.

“You are so much more than the sum of all those men, and I trust you with everything in me. I know you would never do anything that could potentially harm me or Anya, and you should know that I would do everything in my power to keep our family safe and happy.”

He had nothing to say to that.

There were only a handful of people inside WISE who were aware of the details of his past missions, yet Yor had rattled off those names without a single thought. Twilight could only watch as she dug into her plate, seemingly satisfied with her answer and completely unaware of the consequences it may wreak upon both of them.

If his employers found out that an Ostanian civilian knew so much about their operations, she could be in grave danger. As for him, he had long since resigned to the fact that he could only leave his agency in a casket. He had seen too much and he knew too much. There was no retirement in his future, and he never really cared about it, because what else did he have to live for?

“Oh, I completely forgot,” Yor suddenly exclaimed, drawing his attention. “Anya insisted on helping me with breakfast this morning, and she left two of her best toasts for you.”

Twilight was taken aback by the unfamiliar warmth blooming in his chest.

“She made those… for me?”

“Yeah,” Yor nodded excitedly. “She was worried that you won’t like them but they were so perfect, how could you not?”

Returning her smile, he found himself taking a bite of his food, glad that he had chosen to go out on a limb and eat those pieces of bread this morning.

Maybe his older version had a good reason to hide things.

Maybe he had found something valuable that he needed to protect.

Twilight didn’t know if he could ever understand the decisions he made before the attack, but at least he could start trusting his other self.

Chapter Text

Twilight had always been good at reading people.

It was his acute observational skills that allowed him to predict every little move his targets would make with refined precision. It also gave him an upper hand during interrogations. The master spy could easily tell what makes a person tick, what makes them tremble in fear, and what pushes them over the edge.

Even before he was recruited for WISE, the young orphan boy roaming the streets of Westalis knew how to play people to get what he wanted – be it enrolling in the army at the age of 16 or being stationed on the frontlines killing the enemy without showing an ounce of mercy.

However, those days were far behind him.

Now, he was an acclaimed spy in the West and a doting family man in the East.

Yet, despite his years of training and past experiences, he could not figure out Yor Forger.

Twilight took in every word that left her mouth, watched every expression that flitted across her delicate features, and took note of how she occasionally wrung her hands whenever she got a little nervous. But even after paying close attention to her as she sat on the other end of the couch, he couldn’t figure out if she was telling him the complete truth about the fateful night she discovered his identity.

Because as it turned out, it had taken a failed mission for his cover to be blown.

The spy recalled the report from that night to pinpoint any holes in her story, but as far as his memory could serve, the events had unfolded exactly how Yor was describing them. The only difference was that WISE thought that by the time the agent had arrived at the location, someone had already killed the target he was supposed to question. Twilight also remembered reading about his brief combat with the unknown assailant who eventually disappeared into the night, leaving him with no other option but to go back home and clean his wounds before his wife returned from a work event.

However, the truth appeared to be quite different.

“We were supposed to host the dignitaries at the City Hall, but they decided to move the entire thing to Rueben Hotel at the last minute,” Yor told him. “It was just a regular event… the city trying to woo a couple of powerful men to invest in an upcoming developmental project.”

Coincidentally, the infamous Rueben Hotel was also the place where Twilight’s target had been living under a pseudonym. The WISE documents from a year and a half ago suggested that night was particularly gruesome as he had not only arrived at the scene to find his target brutally slaughtered in his hotel room but had also engaged in a spar with an unknown assassin.

The hit-man was a middle-aged man, according to the report, who vanished without a trace once Twilight pushed him out of the fourth-floor window.

For the most part, Yor’s account of that night lined up perfectly with what he already knew. The date and place were a match, and so were the timings.

“You told me you were out of the city for a medical conference, so imagine my surprise when I saw you coming out of the backdoor entrance of the hotel, covered in blood and bruises,” she told him with a slight hitch in her voice, her red eyes simmering with an unusual intensity as she fixed her gaze on him. “I almost believed your story of unexpectedly running into a violent patient, but then you told me to lie to my colleagues and not tell them about us running into each other.”

He could only return her stare.

Nightfall had constantly told him how naïve his fake wife was, how she wordlessly believed every lie she had been fed, and how her dullness could eventually threaten Mission Strix. She had also used a few other choice words that Twilight did not want to repeat even in his head, but looking at the woman sitting in front of him now, he could only think how wrong his mentee had been about Yor Forger.

He also wondered if he may have misjudged his relationship with her, considering she had been keeping his secret for so long now.

“What made you think I was lying to you?” he prodded, trying not to flinch at the cold glare she sent his way. “I could have been trying to maintain the doctor-patient privilege by asking you not to divulge any details about the incident to third parties.”

Yor sighed.

“Three years ago, I wouldn’t even have questioned it,” she smiled ruefully. “But after living with you for 18 months, I guess I had learned to read some of your most obvious ticks. Not to mention, you were in really bad shape, so I decided to bring you home immediately.”

“Your colleagues must have wondered why you were leaving in such a rush. What did you tell them?” he conjectured, filing the tidbit about his alleged ticks in the far recesses of his mind for later analysis.

“No one asked me anything,” she shrugged. “I had been standing outside for so long that they assumed I had already left.”

Twilight felt his brow furrowing at that.

“Why were you standing outside in that weather?”

“Umm…” Yor faltered a little and he instantly noticed the faint blush rising on her cheeks. “I was feeling a little overwhelmed and needed some fresh air. It was too loud inside and some of my colleagues can get meaner than usual when they are drunk, so I thought it was best to wait outside for things to die down a little…” Her hesitation was evident in her voice as she explained.

He clenched his fist as he suddenly felt a surge of exasperation shoot through his body.

She had been hiding from her work friends. Outdoors. In the middle of December.

Loid Forger had written extensively about his dislike for some of the people his wife worked with. He had even called them a possible hindrance to the mission as a few of them had not only tried to make Yor feel insecure about her position in the Forger household but had also attempted to dissuade her from attending the luncheons hosted by Lady Patriots Society – which was critical to his operation.

The spy cleared his throat, trying not to think too much about his own reaction to her words. “It still doesn’t explain how you came to learn about my identity,” he pressed, keeping his voice as emotionless as possible.

“Well, some SSS officers came to the City Hall the next morning to question everyone who had attended the party…” Yor scrunched her nose in a cute manner.

Cute? Get a grip, Twilight.

“…They asked us to come into the director’s office one by one and then questioned us about the previous night. One of the officers let it slip that some high-profile fugitive had been murdered at the hotel around the same time the city was hosting the event downstairs. They also wanted to know if any of us heard a commotion on the upper floors or saw any injured people in the hallways.”

Shit.

None of this was mentioned in his post-mission debriefing.

“Of course, I didn’t tell them anything about you. But when I tried to ask why they were looking for an injured person, one of the SSS officers said they suspected a Westalian spy had infiltrated the hotel and killed the man.” Yor paused to breathe, her eyes moving back to the nearly empty teacup she had been holding. “Luckily, Director McMahon vouched for me and got them off my back. I used to have a really hard time lying...”

“Used to?” Twilight quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, once I told you what had happened, you asked me to keep everything a secret as it could rip our family apart. You also tried to teach me how to come up with plausible lies, it was such a strange experience,” his fake wife smiled softly as if remembering a heartfelt memory. “It took you a while, but you eventually told me that your only goal was to make the world a better place for children like Anya… a place where they won’t have to cry. As an orphan who grew up in the war-torn countryside, your words struck a chord.”

Twilight, too, glanced at the empty coffee mug he had been gripping between his hands and moved to place it on the wooden table in front of them. He could feel his muscles radiating tension and the telltale signs of an oncoming headache, which he honestly found inevitable at this point.

Yor must have noticed his discomfort as well, because the next moment, she kept her own cup down on the table and scooted closer to him.

“Loid, it took me some time to accept you as you are, and it took you even longer to tell me anything about your past, but we worked it out.” Her voice was gentle as she took hold of one of his hands, clasping it between her own. “Anya is doing better at school, your mission is going well, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I have finally found my place.”

Though he could see the moisture in her eyes, Twilight couldn’t bring himself to reach out and wipe it away. He also didn’t want to think about how his fingers twitched just a little as he tried to maintain his nonchalance.

“Even Yuri is coming around,” Yor continued, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. “You should see how he proudly introduces our daughter as his niece to everyone and how he watches every episode of Spy Wars so they could later discuss it over the phone. We may not be perfect, but we are a family that loves each other.”

Finally found my place… something to lose… our daughter…

These words filled Twilight with a dread he had never experienced before. His hand felt clammy, tucked between her soft palms. He tried to regulate his breathing, trying to look at the situation rationally and come up with a plan of action to control further damage, but all he could think about were those damned words.

…a family that loves each other.

The spy credited himself for not flinching as Yor let go of his hands only to move the hair that had been falling into his eyes.

“I know how hard it is for you to trust people, and I really didn’t want us to talk about this so soon…” she looked at him with a familiarity that made his nerves stand on edge. “I just want you to promise one thing, Twilight.”

“What is it?” he asked hoarsely, enraptured by her beautiful eyes that looked directly into his while her thumb caressed his cheek. It felt like an out-of-body experience because the only person who had ever looked at him with such warmth and tenderness had died a long time ago… buried in the rubble of a home she grew up in.

“Please don’t run away from us. Just… stay.”

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur.

Yor had pulled away without giving him a chance to speak and made her way into the kitchen under the guise of washing the dishes from their lunch. He had offered to help, a part of him feeling a little relieved that she had decided not to push him for a promise, but he could also see her hunched shoulders as he walked past her to peer into the refrigerator – as if he hadn’t taken a thorough inventory of everything inside their home earlier that day.

Thankfully, the stifling silence that had settled into the Forger household evaporated as soon as Anya slammed open the door and marched into the living area like a little soldier. Her arms were stiff at her sides and her shoulders square as she looked at Twilight with a determined expression on her face. Although he was in the middle of setting the table, he felt as if he was in some sort of a stand-off with the pink-haired girl.

“Anya, how was your day?” Yor exclaimed from the kitchen, her voice light and cheerful as she put the finishing touches on the dish Twilight had prepared. Upon not hearing a reply, the woman peeked out from the kitchen window and tried getting her daughter’s attention once again. “Your papa made something delicious for us, hurry up and change, otherwise it will get cold.”

Following Yor’s lead, he also softened his face and gave her an encouraging smile.

“Yor reminded me of how much you love peanuts, so I thought I should make us some peanut butter pie for dessert,” he said with a nervous chuckle and then walked around the table before stopping in front of her and sitting down on one knee

Anya continued to look at him impassively.

“I am sorry for upsetting you yesterday,” he tried again, his ears reddening just a little at his remarkable failure at trying to win over a 9-year-old. “Can you please forgive me?”

He had half expected her to turn around and stomp into her room, but defying all expectations, she launched herself into his chest and wound her arms tightly around his neck.

“Anya has already forgiven papa,” she mumbled, burying her face in his sweater for a brief moment and then moving away to look at him. “I am also sorry for being mean to you.”

“Anya, you weren’t me-”

“I have decided that from now on we will be a happy family. Anya will make sure papa falls in love with mama again so we could live happily ever after,” the girl declared loudly as she hugged him again, before whispering “it’s my mish-un” determinedly into his shoulder, seemingly unfazed by his gobsmacked expressions.

She even ignored the loud squeak that had come from the kitchen. Though after a few seconds of Twilight awkwardly patting her head, Anya detached herself from her father and ran toward her room to change out of her uniform.

He remained mostly silent throughout the dinner, only interjecting here and there to ask a few questions. Although he had already memorized Anya’s school timetable and knew that she had to stay back a few extra hours for her tutoring session with Housemaster Henderson, he still listened attentively as she talked about her classes and the upcoming exams.

He was also glad that she hadn’t decided to repeat her earlier declaration because, at this point, Twilight was not sure if Yor’s face could get any redder.

After dinner, he decided to take care of the dishes and put away the leftovers while Yor went downstairs to collect Bond. The spy observed as the dog pretty much ran straight towards Anya as soon as he crossed the threshold, almost tackling her to the ground while she squealed in delight.

The scene unfolding before him reminded him of the television shows he would sometimes watch with his mother and aunt. It was the setting of a perfect home, complete with a beautiful wife, a bubbly child, and a pet dog. The picture frames on the mantel and the crayon drawings attached to the fridge made him like an alien invading someone else’s space, yet he couldn’t shake away the feeling of comfort that would creep up on him completely unbidden.

Twilight had to remind himself that he was on a mission to stop a potential war. More importantly, he had no clue what happened to him the night of the attack. He also didn’t know the identity of the woman who had contacted Frankie, neither did he know how Yor and Anya had found him.

He was in the middle of his musings when Anya’s voice caused him to halt.

“Mama, did that lady ever call us again?”

“Who?” Yor tilted her head, her eyes slowly moving from the show playing on the television screen to look at her daughter.

“The one who told us where to find papa after the bad guys attacked him.”

From his position, Twilight could not see Anya clearly. However, he was able to see confusion flash across Yor’s face before morphing into apprehension and then something akin to agony. Her gaze flitted to where he was standing in the kitchen before settling on the girl next to her.

“No, she didn’t,” she replied cautiously while he stood there, with a dishcloth in one hand and a spoon in another, watching their interaction like a bystander witnessing a train wreck.

Fuck. Did Yor and Anya know about the woman Loid Forger had allegedly been seeing?

Does Yor think her husband was having an affair?

Did that woman call his home phone to inform his family about his whereabouts?

Pieces were slowly starting to fall in place, yet he did not have the heart to ask Yor for an explanation.

“I-It’s getting late, let me quickly check your homework, and then we’ll get ready for bedtime,” her voice filled the room after a long pause.

“Are mama and papa going to sleep in the same room like before?” Anya inquired, a bit too enthusiastically if he was being honest.

What did this kid think was happening between her parents?

“No, sweetie,” Yor explained softly, though her shoulders still seemed tense. “Papa needs to rest some more. He might get disturbed when I wake up to get ready for work tomorrow.”

Anya’s face drooped at her words, though she thankfully didn’t ask any uncomfortable questions for the remainder of the night.

It was only after the girl had gone to bed that Yor approached him. He was exiting the bathroom after a shower when he saw her walk over to him from the living room. She had also changed into her pajamas and Twilight was suddenly overcome with an intense desire to tuck the stray pieces of hair on the side of her face behind her ear.

“Is anything the matter, Yor?” he asked politely.

“Well,” she twiddled her thumbs again. “When Anya mentioned a lady earlier, did it… did it ring any bells?”

“No,” he answered truthfully, willing himself not to press her further today.

“Good,” she whispered as if talking to herself, before looking up to meet his eyes. Her face seemed more relaxed than before and he wondered if she was just glad that he had no memory of the other woman.

“I-I’ll see you in the morning, Loid.” With that, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before quickly walking into her room and closing the door.