Work Text:
He came to while in a white room, tethered to obnoxious machines and the horrid smell of a sterile environment.
Twilight was no amateur, in the first millisecond of gaining consciousness, he steadied his breathing. For all he knew, he could be in enemy territory. Feign unconsciousness, gather information, make a plan, and execute.
There’s a beeping monitor, steady, mirroring his calm heart. Rhythmic drips, probably an IV. Footsteps, a door opening. His body tensed automatically.
“Papa!” His eyes fly open. A smiling and excited little girl. Anya. Her tiny body clambers onto his hospital bed, and his body's tension melts away as the small girl hugs him. “You’re awake.” To his alarm the pink-haired little girl begins to sniffle, hugging him tighter. His surprise melts away, instead replaced by confusion and then by a need to comfort Anya.
“Anya!” A voice calls out, panting before the figure makes it to the room. “You mustn’t disturb your-“ The raven-haired woman stops, taking in the sight of a bed-bound but very much awake Loid Forger and her tiny adoptive daughter, “…father.”
Loid smiles, “Yor-“ She moves with speed he’s never seen her use before (and he had seen her do impossible feats) and both he and his daughter are enveloped by the woman. The wind gets knocked out of him, and Anya’s tiny squeak tells of the brute strength of the woman but neither minds it because Yor is crying.
And Loid hugs the girls back. For the sake of the mission.
*
He’s eating the bland hospital food, well… trying to at least. Anya has claimed the fruit and Loid can hardly garner the appetite to eat.
He half listens to the excited chatter of his daughter. “ Anya and Mama made a card for you! We got Bond to leave his paw print too!”
He smiles, “Thank you, Anya, Yor.”
Yor sits on the couch left for visitors, the usually energetic and motivated woman seems tired, bags under her eyes. There’s the slightest of slouches to her form, and it’s this that makes Loid realize how utterly alone he had left Yor.
Half of him doesn’t feel guilty, there were missions that needed getting to, and if he perished, more agents where he came from. (though the quality would leave more to be desired)
The other half wins out.
He had been unconscious for seven days. An entire week in which Twilight made no appearance, in which no work got done, in which operation Strix was left… in the hands of his capable but unknowing fake spouse.
Seven days of Anya worried sick about him, of Yor watching over her and their home. Of bond at home all alone while they visited him.
Anya looks up at him worryingly and though there is nothing on his face but a smile, it feels as though she sees through him.
“…Anya missed school.” Loid knows she’s ashamed because Anya is an earnest child who can’t act for the life of her. He should be angry and has more than the reputation for it, but he finds he doesn’t mind when he can basically see all the stress melting off the two girls, simply by him being awake.
“The house is a mess,” Yor similarly blurts, and Loid chuckles. It comes easy, the ease at which they truly make him laugh and smile (and sometimes almost burst a blood vessel). They’re the earnest and authentic to his lies and artificial. Loid thinks that he never wants them to face the darkness that is his truth. He’d like to shelter them from that, even if it detracts from the mission.
*
Days later, when Loid is discharged and Yor forces him to get bed rest while she deep cleans the house, and Anya sits with him as she colors unintelligible drawings, he makes a decision.
Loid will try his damn hardest to always make it back in one piece for his girls.
(For the mission of course.)
