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He had nine hundred ninety-nine reasons to leave and never return.
One: he was a spy. It was part of his job. He would secure world peace no matter the cost.
Two: he was good at his job. Molded and trained young, Twilight was by far the best produced secret weapon to come out of Westalis’ intelligence program. His abilities could not be squandered. He could do what five agents together could have, and Twilight took pride in his skills. All in the name of peace.
Three: his mission was over, and a new one was bound to be waiting for him. After nearly two years, Operation Strix had reached its grand finale. There was no need to stick around in an enemy country where rumors of his presence were growing wildly by the second. Desmond had been exposed, the flames of war he wished to ignite suffocated, and Twilight knew staying any longer could be dangerous.
Four: he was getting a break. His handler had congratulated him on a job well done only two days ago, and had promised him a reprieve before she tossed him back to the wolves. Twilight felt odd returning home to Westalis, but a break was a break, and he sure as hell needed one now.
Five: he really, really, really hated Loid Forger.
His list could go on and on and on, but the most important reason he needed to leave was because Twilight didn’t want to leave. As a spy who swore to never watch another child cry over the disasters of war, that was motivating enough to get the hell out of Ostania. It was never hard to cut ties with his personas, but somehow, Loid Forger had always found a way to fight back. It was imperative to get away from him, to get his mind set on his missions and his purpose in life, so leaving was by far the best thing he could do for himself.
Twilight shot his eyes up to the clock at the station. His train was due to arrive in five minutes. It would take him out of Berlint and away from the people he had labelled “family” for two years. All he had to do was step onto the train, head west, and the rest would be history.
Sylvia had promised him a month before the end of Operation Strix that the Forger women would be well taken care of in his absence. Twilight figured it was for the best, as he sure as hell knew he didn’t deserve them for any longer than he had them. Anya could keep going to school without the demand to study, so she could remain with her friends. Yor would have a place to call home, and should she wish it, she could officially adopt Anya as her real daughter.
As for Loid, well, he would die in a car crash while he was being taken to the medical conference he had told Yor he would be attending that weekend. One of WISE’s agents would break the news to the family, and they could both start the healing process. All in all, it was a terrible plan that was bound to upset them, but Twilight also knew it was necessary.
All three of them would move on eventually. All the more reason for him to leave.
“Papa! Anya will study hard to make you proud!”
Twilight inhaled deeply, holding his cigarette between his lips, despite the desire to remove it. The disgusting feel of smoke in his lungs gave him something material to attach to as his active mind began to wander. He coughed the excess smoke, his body still not used to his old habit. However, as soon as the taste was gone from his mouth, he lifted the burning cigarette back to his lips to prepare for another drag.
“Papa! Look! Anya got another stella!”
He inhaled deeper to keep the sight of a bouncing little girl from invading his mind.
“I did it, Papa! I didn’t fail my math exam!”
He grit his teeth, letting the smoke leave through his nose instead. It burned badly, forcing him to cough again, but it didn’t stop the voices in his head.
“Are you proud of me, Papa?”
Anya deserved a real father. A real man to look up to. Loid was a fake, and Twilight was far from the ideal father-figure, even if a part of him truly wanted to try. He would be too much like his own father: strict, unforgiving, impatient, and short-tempered. He had been willing to be a good father for the sake of Operation Strix, but had he convinced himself to stay, Anya would have hated him.
Another reason he had to leave.
It didn’t matter that he tucked Anya in for the last time, brushing his fingers through her hair and wiped remnants of tears from her face. As perceptive as Anya could be at times, Twilight hadn’t been ready to deal with her sudden clinginess that night. She attached herself to his leg, saying over and over again how sad she would be if he left.
“I’m only going to be gone for the weekend, Anya.”
“Don’t leave, Papa! Please!”
Twilight’s fingers dug into his coat pocket for a fresh carton of cigarettes. He dabbed the butt into the ashtray at his side, fished out the pocketbook of matches, and lit a new one. If Anya saw him chain-smoking, she wouldn’t want him to stay. He was the worst excuse for a father she could have. Leaving her behind may have seemed cruel at first, but she would soon come to find the man Yor chose to spend her life with was far better than some pretend doctor...
But if saying his silent farewell to Anya was difficult, saying goodbye to Yor was salt in the open wound.
With Anya, he had been able to get her to sleep (well, she helped herself by crying so much). Ripping her tiny hand off his shirt had required much more strength than Twilight thought, but once the separation was there, he thought he was safe. If Anya slept through the night, Twilight would be gone long before she had to be up.
That had been easy.
But Anya was a child. Innocent. Pure. Trusting. She was too young to understand how hard it was to put distance between himself and his family.
Yor, however, was not.
“She’s really going to miss you.”
Loid gave off a shaky laugh, trying to push down the lump that had been building in his throat since the first tear escaped Anya’s eyes. “I won’t be gone for long.”
Yor approached him quietly. A few seconds later, Loid felt her hand press against his cheek, turning his head slightly to look him in the eyes. There was a question on her tongue, one he didn’t want to hear, nor was it one he wanted to answer. Her eyes studied him, as if hoping to communicate her concerns with a look, and that lump began to make its presence known once again.
They were standing face to face in the narrow hallway, just outside of Anya’s room. There were very few places he could run to, but even if he wanted to hide, his body remained firmly planted in its place.
Finally, the question breeched Yor’s lips as her fingers brushed through the locks of hair by his ear. “Are you okay?”
To ease her concerns, Loid lifted a hand to cover hers, adding a weak smile for comfort. “I’m fine. I wish I could take you with me, as these medical conferences are far from exciting.”
Either Yor didn’t believe he was being honest or didn’t find his tone humorous. “Loid...”
The regret slowly started to eat away at his conscious. He was lying to her, and Yor knew it. He had been lying to her from the first day he met her. He had lied to a child, had promised both of them a happy life, knowing full well this day would come...
Loid wanted to tell her the truth. Who he was. What he had done. If she would forgive him for being so callous towards her feelings because he really wanted to love her.
But he didn’t deserve them. He didn’t deserve their love, their compassion, their forgiveness. He was going to hurt them badly, but their hearts would heal. He would be the one forever haunted by the what if’s, the what could have been’s, the if only’s...
So, he crossed that line one last time, slowly brought her into his chest, and silenced her worries with a hungry kiss.
Yor fell victim to his touches, his kisses, his words just as easily as he breathed.
He did, however, fall victim to her comfort, the feel of her skin under his hands, the skip of his heart when she giggled at his actions. She curled up against him in bed as he draped the covers over their dampened bodies, but he refused to let her get up to shower. Not tonight. Not the last night he had with her.
It didn’t take long for her eyes to grow heavy listening to him ramble on about the newest medical treatment he planned on presenting that weekend. A treatment that would never be discussed. A group of people he would never even meet. A weekend that would never be forgotten...
Twilight should have left her side hours before he did. Instead, he gave into his weakness and allowed himself an hour or two to stay with her. He watched her breathe evenly, cherishing the comfort she had with him when she was at her most vulnerable. His fingers brushed through her hair, wishing he could have told her how much he loved the feel of her hair, soft and thick and beautiful no matter how she chose to style it. He allowed his hand to drop to her shoulder, to burn the feel of her skin into his heart, as he would never again be able to stare at her shoulders or her back in her infamous red sweater he had taken such a liking to.
And he kissed her lightly, hoping not to wake her in his moment of selfishness. He would miss kissing her the most. He would miss her blush. He would miss making her blush. He would not miss her kicking him when she did blush. He would miss her react in surprise every time he kissed her, then smile against his lips, then take over his kiss and leave him breathless time and time again. He would miss that glint in her eyes when she sat on top of him, knowing damn well he hated being trapped on the bottom, but keeping him locked in place until he basically begged her to keep going.
Most of all, he would miss being in her arms. It had been the only place he felt safe, where he felt like he belonged, where he felt like he could stay...
But she deserved someone better. So he tore himself away from her warmth, from her love for a man that didn’t exist, and moved carefully so not to wake her. He didn’t look back as he grabbed the bag he had prepared only hours ago, worried if he stopped now, he would return to her side and give up on Twilight and live the rest of his life as Loid Forger.
He hated Loid Forger more than anything in the world, because that man had everything Twilight wanted long before he knew it was what he wanted.
He couldn’t be a father for Anya.
He couldn’t be a husband for Yor.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to try.
But even as he fought with Bond, who was guarding the door as if knowing Loid was making a terrible decision, he reminded himself that he had no real reason to stay.
So he didn’t.
With shaking fingers, Twilight dropped his cigarette into the ashtray barely touched. His train was arriving, and the damage was already done. The hardest part of his goodbyes were over. He committed himself to his job, to his country, to keeping the peace. Yor and Anya would always plague his mind, but their happiness trumped his own. And they would never be happy, or safe, if he chose to stay with them.
Once the train entered the station, he slowly descended the stairs to avoid any last ditch effort his heart thought it could use to convince him to stay. He watched commuters exit the train, greeted by family and friends, and it was difficult to tear his eyes away from some of them.
Children ran up to their fathers after they were spotted. Would Anya be excited to see him should he ever have the heart to return to Berlint in the future?
Wives threw themselves at their husbands, some of them in tears as the husbands picked them up off the ground in joy. Would Yor rush up to him and sweep him off his feet if he ever were to see her again?
You’re going to be dead.
In a way, Twilight was thankful for that. Loid Forger was going to die, which meant there was no excuse to return to that family. Dead men do not reemerge a year later, begging for a second chance because he missed being a father, a husband, a human...
When the announcement signaled his departure time, Twilight bit the bullet and lifted one foot, then the other, until he was standing right outside the door of the train. In a few minutes, he would be headed towards Westalis. In a few minutes, everything he cared about would start to fade into the background. In a few minutes, he would return to his normal self: sharp, heartless, and callous. In a few minutes, he would be able to think about the future and not if Anya was passing or failing her exams, or if Bond needed to be fed or walked, or if Yor was struggling at work with the gossip of her coworkers.
“This is the final boarding call.”
All he had to do was take two more steps and he was well on his way towards a much needed solitary break and a new mission.
Two steps. That was all he needed to do.
Two steps to end the life of his recent persona and give birth to countless more to come.
Two steps to stop the next plot of war.
Two steps to bring Twilight back to his prime and not whatever pitiful excuse he had become as of late.
Two. Steps.
It was two steps he couldn’t take.
“Sir? The train is about to depart.”
No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he yelled at himself, he could not find his voice, nor the strength to move.
“Sir? Are you boarding or not?”
Hell, if he couldn’t move two whole steps, he could at least nod his fucking head!
Or open his mouth to say yes!
If he didn’t get on this train, everything fell to pieces. The next train wouldn’t be until the following week. His handler would have to scramble to find him another excuse to leave the household undetected. His next mission could get postponed, and by doing so, it could cost people their lives. He would have to tell Yor and Anya that the conference was cancelled, and then suffer through another painful separation.
If he didn’t get on this train, he was choosing to be selfish over the good of his country and the people in it. He was choosing to ruin Yor and Anya’s life should he return to them. They would be in danger. He could easily be discovered as a fraud. WISE may even cut ties with him, viewing his actions as a betrayal, leaving him jobless and with no source of income. Yor wouldn’t want to be with him in a pitiful state, and he would have no choice but to force Anya back into an orphanage.
He had to leave. He had to get on the train. For the sake of world peace, for the citizens of every country, for Yor and Anya...
“This is your last chance, sir. Are you boarding or not?”
Finally, finally, Twilight found his voice.
“No...”
The admission had him stumbling back, but the attendant thought nothing of it and closed the door to the cabin. Twilight watched in slow motion as a plume of smoke shot out from the smokestack, howling loudly, as if mocking him of his weakness. Inch by inch, the train began to head out of the station, the wheels creaking loudly, remaining family and friends waving goodbye to their loved ones as they departed.
Sylvia was going to murder him.
Loid Forger and Twilight were going to die that weekend.
Humiliated, disgusted, and defeated, Twilight couldn’t force himself away from his spot on the platform. How could he commit to leaving his persona behind him, and then fail to finish the job? Two steps was all it would have taken, and he couldn’t do it. It was as if he had Desmond in his crosshairs, face to face, man to man, and then he burned the evidence he had collected that day instead of passing it on to trusted sources.
He wouldn’t be getting that break, that he was sure of. But perhaps the next train that arrived at the station could take him elsewhere, where he could meet with another agent to discuss his next mission. That way, he could still leave Loid Forger behind while avoiding the wrath of his handler.
Twilight would have to buy his own ticket, but he figured he owed it to WISE, as he cost them money on an escape route he didn’t even take. He knew that the main objective now was getting out of Berlint. How he did it and where it took him didn’t matter at this point. He could explain away a missed train. He couldn’t do the same if he opted to remain behind.
Not with what was at stake anyway.
Eventually, Twilight shifted his weight to turn himself around. The next train was due into the station in an hour. A few more cigarettes could calm his mind down and numb him to the point he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Some coffee and a walk could get his blood flowing after being stagnant for at least ten minutes. Spending personal money on a new ticket would not only wound his pride, but remind him of how serious the situation was. There was not one single reason to stay unless it was to rot in a prison cell for the remainder of his life.
“P-P...P-Papa...?”
The station wasn’t crowded, but Twilight had years of experience picking up multiple conversations in crowded areas. That was how he heard the timid voice, laced with sorrow and heartbreak, and he was suddenly desperate to find the little girl it belonged to.
The small gathering of people split around him like a sign from the gods. In their wake, Anya stood in her school uniform, her hands clasped tightly in front of her chest, her face coated with tears. The moment her emerald eyes found him, Anya started to cry heavily, her wails loud and attracting attention.
He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything else in the entire world than the child he had once called his daughter and had been two steps away from leaving behind altogether.
Twilight met her halfway, as Anya bolted towards him with her arms in the air. He lifted her up into his chest, holding her tightly and burying his face in her hair. She continued to cry, albeit much quieter, but she held onto him for dear life. His eyes burned dreadfully, a pain in his heart so sharp he thought Anya had stabbed him unintentionally. He should never have left her without saying goodbye to her the way he should have. He at least could have given her his reasons. He could have at least promised her a life of happiness with her mother. He could have told her that he was half the man she viewed him as, and he loved her too much to let her get close to the man he really was.
“Y-You stink, Papa...”
Despite the overwhelming guilt that shattered his heart into pieces, Twilight couldn’t help the small bubble of laughter that came out of his mouth. “S-Sorry...”
“It’s smoky...”
He put his hand on the back of her head when Anya rested hers on his shoulder. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for picking back up a terrible habit in her absence. He wanted to tell her that he would never leave her again. He wanted to tell her he would always be her father, that he wanted nothing more than to watch her grow up and become someone she could be proud of.
“Loid?”
Seeing Anya again right after he failed to get on his train made him nearly crumble under the weight of his guilt. But seeing Yor again, after lying to her when she knew something was wrong the night before, had him reaching out for her long before he realized what he was doing.
She didn’t even hesitate and allowed him to fall into her like dead weight. Her arms were strong around his shoulders, supporting him with her strength, with her love, her compassion he never deserved.
And he broke down in her arms. He had spent years pushing down his emotions so no one would use them against him. He had spent years thinking of his friends, his parents, their cruel and untimely deaths, so he would never forget why he had become a spy in the first place. But Yor literally tore through every mask he had ever worn in the span of ten seconds to bring his fears, his pain, his regrets, his wants to the surface.
While he cried into her shoulder, Yor held him like she would hold Anya after a nightmare. Given how he was supposed to be several hundred miles away now, he had no right to be here. With her. With Anya. With the sense of belonging...
“It’s okay, Loid.” Yor spoke with no bitterness, no hostilities, no animosity. Her fingers tried to soothe him at the back of his neck, moving up and down slowly. “I’m right here.”
After spending so many years alone, hardening his heart through training and distance, Twilight felt his body give out on him as he gave himself to her completely. “I-I love you.” In her arms, he lifted his head as high as he could to press his lips to the side of her face. “I love you so much.”
He heard her exhale in delight, knowing the smile was on her face even if he couldn’t see it. Her arms tightened around him, and he knew he was a fool for thinking he could ever leave either of them behind.
Eventually, Yor pushed against his shoulders to give them some space. Twilight’s gaze fell to her face, feeling some degree of sorrow when he noticed the tears swirling in her beautiful eyes. But her smile was all he needed to see to solidify his resolve.
The soft touch of her hand as she brushed any remaining tears off his face was just an extra push. “I don’t care what happened, what’s wrong, anything. I just want you to come home.”
He kissed her fully on the lips, slanting his mouth over hers to let her know he was sorry, that he should never have left her, that he would never leave her or Anya again. It was the wrong place to get wrapped up in deep emotions, but when he pulled away, the light dancing in Yor’s eyes told him she got his message loud and clear.
“I love you, Loid,” she said softly, punctuated with a tender kiss. “I...I was so worried when Anya was crying this morning and you were gone much too early.” His heart ached as her eyes fell to his chest. “And then she took off. It’s almost like you two are connected.”
Anya wasn’t even his real daughter, but Twilight couldn’t help but think that Yor was truthful. How that was possible was beyond him, but he also treasured it.
“Well,” he started after clearing his throat and shifting Anya to settle on his hip. “Since I missed my train and Anya seems to be running very late for school, why don’t we go out...a-as a family?”
Yor’s face reddened slightly while never looking away from him. The warmth in her eyes made his breath hitch in his throat, and her happiness was not something he would ever take for granted again.
And to think he wanted another man to see her as cheerful as she was right now...
“I-I think that sounds...wonderful, Loid.”
“Papa! I want to go get peanuts first! Anya didn’t have a good breakfast.”
“I-I’m so sorry, Anya...”
He wrapped his free arm around his wife’s shoulder to pull her into his chest. He then kissed the top of her head before pushing her along towards the exit while Anya bounced happily against him.
“Family oo-ting!”
He may have had a million reasons he should have left his life behind, but as Yor’s fingers intertwined with his own, Twilight told himself he didn’t care.
He only needed one reason to stay.