Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Twilight wakes up on a couch. Except it isn’t his couch. 

He’s sitting bolt upright in a second, taking in his surroundings. The room is small, just big enough for the red couch and the odd thin screen across from him. The floor is coated in a plush red carpet, and there’s a generic picture hung on the wall like what you’d see in a hotel. 

Concerningly, there are no visible doors or windows. 

Clearly, he’s been captured by some sort of enemy. It’s not the first time. 

Loid gets straight to work combing the room. He can’t sense any threats, which is both comforting and concerning. Comforting since he’s not in immediate danger, but concerning because it means he has one less way of gathering information. 

And he has very few ways to find information. First, he checks for hidden vents- in case they wanted to poison him with something, but finds nothing. No visible cameras, or any real places to hide them. Nothing concerning the couch, even after he ripped into it. 

He goes to check the light fixtures, but can’t find any lights, even though the room is clearly well-lit. It’s as if the light comes from nowhere. 

The room is disconcerting, despite its plush couch, soft rug, warm colors, and clear attempts to lull him into a false sense of security. The energy inside it is simply… off. 

He fully takes apart both the screen and the stand it rests on. The stand seems like a normal table, but the screen is even odder than he first realized. From the outside, it looks like a TV- just much thinner and flatter. But the inside is completely empty, devoid of any technology. 

He begins tearing up the rug from the corner and rips it up from the edges of the whole room. 

Nothing. 

Starting to get frustrated, Loid turns to the wallpaper. Perhaps something is hiding behind there. He peels back the first layer, only to find an identical layer below. He pulls that back. And finds another layer of the same paper. 

He rips layer after layer, getting more frantic by the second, and never making a dent in the seemingly endless wallpaper. With a frustrated huff, he turns back to face the rest of the room- 

Which has been completely reset to how it was before he started his investigation. Loid stares agape, mildly wondering if he was wrong and this is actually a fever dream brought about by Yor’s cooking. 

Just then, the screen lights up. 

Loid steels himself, watching as white text breaks up the black screen. 

Hello! The screen reads. Have you satisfied your curiosity and anxiety yet? 

“Who are you?” Loid asks, looking up at the ceiling for a microphone or camera, or hell even an outlet. The screen isn’t plugged into anything, how the hell is it working? 

Eh, guess not. Don’t worry too much about me- I’m mostly just a plot convenience. I’m just here for the sake of fun!

“‘Fun’? Like torture?” Loid asks, eyes narrow.

Wow, you’re paranoid. No torture here. In fact, I promise no harm will come to anyone in this room, and you’ll be returned completely unharmed. 

Why the hell would I believe that from the disembodied text that kidnapped me to begin with?  Twilight thinks, but says nothing, studying the odd screen. 

I can wait if you want to exhaust yourself looking for more threats and/or exits that don’t exist. 

Loid frowns at the screen. 

Seriously, I’m happy to wait if it makes you feel better. But you won’t find anything. You can’t leave until you’ve watched all the way through. 

“...Watched what exactly?” 

So glad you asked. A button on the TV(?) glows red. Hit play when you’re ready to start. 

Loid looks at the screen, then at the seemingly impossible room around him. 

“I go free when I finish watching whatever it is you want me to see?” 

I don’t have much reason to lie. It’s pretty obvious I have, like, almost unlimited power here. 

“Alright,” Loid says evenly and settles himself stiffly on the couch. “Then I’ll watch.” 

And buy myself time to figure out an escape, Loid thinks to himself. 

The text knows his thoughts, but does not comment, deciding it’s probably time to give the audience what they’ve been waiting for. 

Loid hits play. 

The screen comes to life. 

-=+=-

Loid watches dumbstruck, as impossible footage of the ambassador’s assassination plays out in front of him. He pauses the video. 

“How the hell did you get this?!” He yells at the ceiling. The ambassador’s assassination wasn’t public knowledge, and even if it was how did they get a camera in his car beforehand? Was this the group that organized the car crash? How did they recover the footage from the wreck? Not even to mention the logistically impossible footage of the car actually crashing. How could they’ve known exactly where the driver would lose control? 

Something dings in Loid’s pocket. Something that definitely wasn’t there a moment ago. 

Twilight rips the device from his clothes and throws it across the room, then ducks down behind the couch and covers his head. 

Everything is silent, softly illuminated in the eerie glow of the room. 

When nothing explodes Twilight tentatively stands, and carefully works his way over to the device. 

It looked a lot like the screen, but much smaller, only slightly larger than Twilight’s hand. It also appeared to be made of glass, though now cracked from hitting the wall. 

That wasn’t nice. :(  Read the screen. 

With a growl, Twilight snatches the device from the floor and sneers at it. 

“What the hell is this thing? A bomb?!” 

It's basically a fancy pager. Can you chill? 

Twilight does not chill, instead plowing on with his questions. “Where did you get that footage? Why are you showing it to me? What’s your goal here?” 

They wouldn’t show such incriminating evidence to someone they were planning on keeping around. I have to escape, as quickly as possible. 

No one is going to kill you. The glass pager reads, as the cracks in its surface smoothed over and sealed themselves before his eyes. Seriously, if I wanted you dead you would already be gone. 

Twilight grits his teeth. “What is your goal then?” 

I’m just doing what I need to. Following orders. You understand that, don’t you? 

“What orders?” 

The glass pager doesn’t respond. Dismantling it reveals another disconcertingly empty piece of technology. He snaps it completely and tosses the broken glass (along with his now ruined gloves) in the corner of the room. 

Sure enough, when he checks his pocket there is an identical, unbroken device, as well as a fresh pair of gloves. Disturbed, Loid wraps the device in the gloves and places them on the floor next to the couch. 

Twilight paces the room, trying to find something he must’ve missed. Some sort of mechanism, or hologram, or chemical weapon warping his perception. 

Once again, he finds nothing. 

Loid flops down on the couch with a frustrated huff, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Nothing about this room made sense . It’s like one of the scenes from Anya’s cartoons, except if Bondman was in this situation Loid would be criticizing the writer for being lazy and unrealistic. 

(The pager buzzes indignantly. Loid ignores it.)

Twilight takes a deep breath. This situation is completely illogical. His usual tools won’'t work here. He needs more information, and the video was the obvious choice to gather intel. Except, the video answered none of his questions while spawning hundreds more. 

But, honestly, what other choice does he have? 

All other options exhausted, Twilight does the only thing he can do. He presses play. 

Twilight paces as the scenes play out before him. First a recording taken directly in WISE’s most confidential conference room, then footage of him impersonating Edgar to get the toupee photos. 

This is bad. Worse than he thought. Had these people infiltrated WISE? And how long had they been monitoring him specifically? How had he not noticed their bugs in his car? 

Did they infiltrate his home? Were they monitoring Anya and Yor? 

Twilight feels nauseous. 

The pager buzzes. Hesitantly, Twilight uncovers it. 

This isn’t direct footage. More a… recreation of true events. No one was monitoring you or your family. 

For some idiotic reason, Twilight wants to believe the text, at least in this specific instance. It wouldn’t make sense for not only him but so many of WISE’s best to not notice constant surveillance. A recreation, disturbingly accurate as it was, made more sense. 

At the same time, as a general rule, you shouldn’t believe captors, especially ones represented by disembodied text.

When I get out of here we’re doing full sweeps of everything. Loid vows. 

Twilight can practically feel the ulcers forming in real-time as the footage followed him through his ‘breakup’ with Karen, and his subsequent mission debrief on the train. 

The debrief about Operation Strix. 

Twilight’s stomach sinks as the version of him screen considered Operation Strix (complete with inner monologue, how the hell did they accomplish that?!). The more the footage focused on him thinking about and preparing for Strix, the worse the feeling got. He didn’t like what this was leading up to. 

Sure enough, his fears are almost instantly confirmed, as a shot of a rundown orphanage came into view. 

“If possible, I’d like a child who can read and write.”

“Huh? Sure. Anya here’s the smartest one we got.”

The screen is taken by his daughter’s image. Loid feels a pang in his chest. 

“Papa?” A sleepy voice calls out behind him. 

Twilight whips around, to look at the loveseat he’d turned his back to. On it Anya is half laying down, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and glancing around the room in confusion. 

Two steps, and Twilight scoops Anya up, protectively cradling her against his chest. She clutches onto his shirt as he bends down to snatch the pager off the floor. 

“Why is she here?” Loid hisses towards the pager. “She’s a civilian and a child. Why have you taken her?” 

The pager doesn’t respond, clutched in Twilight’s death-grip. 

“Hey! Answer me!” 

Again, nothing. The screen cracks. 

“Papa?” Anya sits up in his hold, still a bit dazed. “Whas’ goin on?” 

Twilight’s grip around her tightens for a moment, then relaxes. He puts the cracked pager into his pocket. 

Loid smiles at his daughter. “We’re playing a game with some friends of mine. It’s like an escape room.”  

Anya frowns, and shuts her eyes. After a moment her head drops against Twilight’s chest. 

“Anya?” Twilight shakes her lightly, panic tinging his voice. 

“‘M fine.” Anya mumbles. She squints at the room. “This place feels weird.” 

Twilight hums his agreement. Escape was already his top priority, but with Anya here now the stakes had just sky rocketed. If he could just-

“What’s this?” Anya asks, pulling one of the strange glass devices from her pocket. 

“Don’t touch that!” Twilight yells, grabbing the device and throwing it across the room. 

Anya blinks at him. Then she pulls out an identical glass device. 

Twilight throws it across the room, into the little corner of shattered parts. 

Anya blinks at him. 

“There’s another one in your pocket.” Twilight sighs. It isn’t a question. 

Anya pulls out another of the glass pagers. Twilight takes it from her but doesn’t throw it this time, instead glaring at the writing on screen. 

Every guest receives their own Messenger. Please return this one to its owner, or the owner will receive a new one. If you wish to stay updated with current events, please consult your own Messenger. Thanks :). 

Twilight scowls at the passive-aggressive text. 

He throws the device across the room. 

Anya pulls another out of her pocket. 

Twilight sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as the telltale signs of a headache began pounding behind his eyes. His thoughts whirl rapidly, trying to figure out what the hell is going on and how to get Anya and himself out of this situation. 

Still in her Papa’s arms, Anya blinks down at the ‘Messager’ in her hand. Between one blink and the next, text appears to cover the screen. 

Hello! Welcome! Quick rundown of what’s happening. The screen in the middle of the room shows a video. Everyone needs to watch it together. When it’s over, everyone gets to go home! Until you finish you have to stay, but no one will get hurt or anything. :) 

Confused, Anya looks to the screen, only to be met with a frozen image of herself. She frowns. 

Why am I on screen? She thinks. Is that the orphanage? 

The video is about your family. And your secrets. 

That makes Anya jolt. Papa can’t find out about her secret! If he does, he- he won’t want her anymore. 

He’ll send her back. 

The weird little screen buzzes. It’ll be okay. Promise.  

Anya decides she doesn’t like the screen. 

She tries to throw it across the room like Papa did before, but it doesn’t make it quite as far. It hits the rug with a thump at Papa’s feet, without even cracking or smashing like the ones Papa threw. 

There’s a long pause before a new thing appears in her pocket. When she fishes it out it reads ‘...Nice throw?’ She shoves it back into her pocket with a huff. 

Papa’s mind is moving far too quickly for Anya to understand. She pats his face with her hand to grab his attention. 

“Papa, I wanna go home.” 

Papa’s mind goes still for a moment, then speeds up so quick she can’t make anything out again. 

On the outside Papa smiles and smooths back Anya’s hair. “Okay, Starlight. I’ll take you home as soon as I can.” 

Usually that would make Anya feel better. But she can hear her Papa’s every thought. And even if his mind is usually super fast and hard to read, it feels different now. Bad different. 

She can’t follow every line of thought, but she can see how they die out one by one as Papa declares them impossible. New ideas come quickly to replace them, but they all die out faster and faster because they’re not ‘vine-able’. 

Is watching through really the only option? 

“No!” Anya yells, tears welling up in her eyes. “We can’t watch it!” 

“What’s wrong?” Papa frowns at her. Why doesn’t she want to watch? I know I don’t want her to find out about my spy work, but what’s her problem? Why’s she so upset all of a sudden? Did she figure out the reality of the situation? How does she even know about the video? 

Anya can’t tell him what’s really wrong, even as the panic fills up her chest and throat and makes her feel like she can’t breathe. 

(She can’t tell him the truth, even though she really wants her Papa to hug her better and chase all her fears away.) 

“It- uh- The weird screen said the video was about us, and- and I don’t wanna see myself on the TV.” Anya lies. 

Papa’s eyebrows crinkle as his frown deepens. “Just last week you said you wanted to be a movie star.”

“Well I changed my mind!” Anya cries, fists balled up in frustration. “I said I don’t wanna, so we can’t watch it!” 

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Papa soothes, bouncing her slightly in his hold. Anya calms. 

It’s probably better this way. If I can distract her maybe I can play through the video and look for clues without- 

“You can’t watch it either!” Anya shrieks, tears bubbling over and running down her face. “You can’t wa’ch it Papa, you gotta promise you won’t!” 

“Hey! Hey, Anya, Starlight, you gotta take some deep breaths for me.” 

Papa starts rubbing panicked circles into her back as Anya blubbers into his suit jacket. It takes a long few minutes for Anya to calm down, but eventually her breathing slows and her wails turn to muted sniffles. 

“Can you tell me why you’re so upset?” Papa asks softly. 

Anya shakes her head, face still buried in his now ruined jacket. 

“I can’t really fix anything if I don’t know the problem.” Papa points out. 

“Somethin’ really bad is gonna happen if you watch it.” 

Papa’s eyebrows scrunch. “What sort of ‘bad’?” 

Anya hesitates. After a long moment she whispers, “The kind where you won’t wanna be my Papa anymore.” 

Papa’s eyes widen. “What? Why would you- what would-” 

Papa stumbles over his words for the first time Anya has ever seen him. 

Why would she- did I do something to make her think- I’d never- 

Papa goes rigid. His mind goes silent. 

Then, Anya hears: 

I’d never give her up. I love her.

Anya’s eyes widen, and she jolts upright. She knows her Papa cares about her, cus’ he’s a big softie. He shows her, when he makes her favorite food or holds her when she’s tired or fixes a broken toy. 

But he’s never said he loves her. He’s never thought it before. 

“Anya-” Papa’s voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “Anya. You’re scared of me finding out a secret, right?” 

Hesitantly, Anya nods. 

Papa smooths back her hair. “I understand why that would be scary.” 

…probably better than most people. 

“But I can promise nothing bad like that will happen.” 

“How can you know for sure?” Anya asks. “You don’t even know what the secret is!” 

Papa smiles, soft and honest and a little scared. “Because there is nothing that would make me stop wanting to be your Papa.” 

Anya stares at him with wide, shining eyes. “Nothing? N-not even if it means I’m a liar, o-or a bad person?” 

“Nothing. Papa presses a kiss to her forehead. “Whatever your secret is, we’ll figure it out together, okay?” 

“…Okay.” Anya throws her arms around his neck, squeezing as tight as she can. “I love you, Papa.” 

Papa’s breath hitches. Anya hears his heart beat once, twice, three times. He exhales. 

“I love you too.” 

Anya giggles, tears and laughter bubbling up and out of her. Her chest feels all full, but not in the sick-y panic of earlier. It’s a good full, like she’s so happy she can’t fit the sadness or the scared-ness and it all gets pushed out of her body through her laughs and her eyes. 

Papa’s mind is going off in a hundred different ways about what to do when they get back, and talking to Handler about long-term identities and logic-sticks, and it makes Anya’s head spin but she doesn’t wanna stop listening. 

Then his mind focuses on the ‘getting out of here’ part, and Anya’s mood sours. 

“I think we have to watch the video to get out of here.” Papa says, sourly. It looks like my only option is to watch it with her lie as I go. Maybe I can convince her I’m an actor? And it’s some sort of movie or show? 

...Hiding your identity isn’t going to matter much soon. Anya thinks, some of her anxieties starting to return. 

Papa dabs at Anya’s face with a handkerchief. “So, do you want to tell me your big secret, or just wait for the video?” He asks, in his very-on-purpose-casual way. Anya’s face scrunches up, still a bit red from crying and Papa’s fussing. 

Anya’s voice is small when she asks, “You said nothing can change your mind?” 

“Nothing.” Papa promises fiercely. 

She could be a Junior Garden Assassin for all I care. Nothing in this world can make me give up my daughter. 

Papa is a big liar, and he’s good at lying, sometimes he even lies in his head good enough to trick himself. But there’s always a little bit of truth, somewhere in the corner, that he can’t hide no matter how hard he tries. 

Anya always knows when Papa is lying. And right now, he’s telling the truth. 

Anya swipes at her face and grins at her Papa. “Let's watch the video. I think is’ easier…” 

Anya trails off into a nervous giggle, tapping her fingers together. Even if Papa still wants her after he finds out, he might be… grumpy about some of the stuff she did… or heard… 

“Okay.” Papa smiles at her, bemused. 

Papa goes to sit them on the couch, then aborts halfway through, standing quickly and taking a few steps back with a glare. His pocket buzzes. With a groan, Papa pulls out the weird ‘Messager’. It still has cracks, even though Anya thinks it could fix itself if it wanted to.  

Anya reads over Papa’s shoulder: 

The couch is not a bomb. There are so many better places to put a bomb in this room. Your paranoia is wasting everyone’s time. Please sit down. Pls. 

Papa grits his teeth so hard Anya can hear a creak. She pats his face comfortingly. Papa closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

Papa gingerly sits them down on the couch, but makes Anya stay on his lap, like he could protect her from the hypothetical blast. 

Papa’s weird messager starts lighting up with little pictures and directions on how ‘How to use your new Smart Remote!”. So while Papa is distracted figuring out/yelling at his device, Anya pulls out her own. 

Told you so. 

Anya throws it as far as she can. 

It gets a whole three feet away from her! 

A new one appears in her pocket. 

Chapter Text

“I’d love to get this weird, creepy little brat out of my hair once and for all.”   The orphanage director thinks on screen. 

“Excuse me?” Loid’s concerns about his identity fade into the background in the face of his offense. That man never said that! Are these people trying to insult Anya? What goal would they have- 

“He was thinking it!” Anya blurts out and covers her mouth. Loid looks down at her, confused, but doesn’t have a chance to question her before his own voice comes back on screen. 

“Eden college only accepts students six and up, this girl looks no older than four or five. ” 

Except, Twilight never said that. He thought it. 

“Six! I’m six!” Anya on screen says. 

Right after Loid thought about Eden’s age requirement. 

In real life, Anya, still on his lap, turns to hide her face in Loid’s coat. Twilight cups the back of her head instinctively, but his focus is trapped on the screen. 

“She’s quite small for that age… ”

Twilight watches as Anya stands on her tip-toes. Trying to make herself taller. After he thought about her height.

Is she… trying to convince me? Loid feels nauseous. 

“The crossword would be too difficult for a child…”  

Loid watches as his daughter fills out the crossword with ease. His daughter, who struggles with basic spelling at a first grade level, easily filled out a puzzle intended to stump adults.

While, at the same time , he was mentally filling out the same puzzle. 

There’s no way.

“As a spy…”

Five minutes ago, Twilight had been panicking about how to explain that away. 

“Is this okay with you?” 

Past Anya nods, stars in her eyes. 

“A spy on a mission? Waku Waku!” 

Numbly, Loid pauses the video. His mind is racing, reviewing hundreds of moments when Anya said something a bit too convenient, the times she seemed to know more than she should, when she believed his excuses a bit too easily. 

She’d known the whole time, hadn’t she? 

Belatedly, Loid realizes Anya is shaking. 

Shaking in fear. Of him. 

“Anya? Can you look at me?” Twilight asks softly. 

Anya shakes her head. Twilight cards his hands through her hair. 

“Okay, Baby, that’s okay. But can you do something for me? It should be easy.” 

Anya nods hesitantly. 

“Can you take a deep breath? Just like this.” Loid demonstrates loudly. 

Anya’s first attempt to copy him is stuttered, and she chokes in her panic. Loid rubs her back, continuing to emphasize his own breaths in example. 

It takes a few minutes, but Anya calms. For a long few minutes they sit in near silence. Anya’s face stays hidden in Twilight's chest while he rubs her back. 

“You knew the whole time.” Twilight says, not quite a question. Still, Anya nods in response. 

“You knew the whole time.” Loid repeats, laughing in disbelief and amazement. 

He hunches, pressing his forehead to the top of Anya’s hair and taking a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Are you angry?” Anya asks, breaking her silence. Breaking isn't quite the right word, her voice is so tiny and fragile if anything is going to break its going to be her. 

“Not with you.” Loid says quickly. “Frustrated with myself for not noticing. And… a bit shocked. And confused.”

“But not mad?” Anya asks again.

“No. And even if I was, I hope you know-” Loid’s voice breaks. “I hope you know that no matter how angry I could be, I’d never hurt you, and I’d never not want you anymore.” 

“I know, Papa.” Anya says. She hesitates, fidgeting with his tie. “It used to be kinda scary, cus Papa would think about sending Anya back, and-”

Twilight’s hearing goes muffled, drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. 

Papa would think about sending Anya back

Twilight’s heart constricts. 

“Anya, Baby, I am so so sorry I was so stupid.” Loid chokes.

Anya smiles, just a bit, more wry than any child her age should be. 

“I know that now, Papa.” Anya insists, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

And it hurts a bit, that now, the blatant fact that there was a time when his daughter didn’t feel safe and secure in her life, when he directly made her fear for her place and security. 

But it’s also a relief. That now. The idea that things have changed, and changed for the better. That even if there’d been a point when she was truly afraid of him, that time was over. Even if it ended five minutes ago with him finally pulling his head out of his ass, things were different now. He could do better now. 

It’s also a relief that she believes him. Every word he’s said to her so far’s been the truth- a serious deviation from Loid’s usual MO. Yet still the anxiety that she might think him a liar, or someone who simply wants to use her roils uncomfortably in Loid’s stomach. 

Then again, she would be able to tell, wouldn’t she? She’s always known when he was lying.

Anya probably knows him better than anyone. Maybe even better than himself. 

“Papa thinks real fast.” Anya says offhandedly, blinking at him. Twilight’s lips twitch into a smile. 

“I’m still processing, I think.” Loid admits. He’d been so deeply thrown off kilter by Anya’s fears that he hadn’t been able to even properly come to terms with the idea that Anya can somehow hear thoughts and has known he was a spy since day one. 

The mere concept leaves him feeling vulnerable, the lies and masks he constructed like armor torn away and shredded and he didn’t even realize it happened. 

If anyone else held this power, he’d… he’d be terrified. The first rule of being a spy is don’t let anyone know you’re a spy. 

But this is Anya. 

Twilight was truthful when he said nothing could make him not want her anymore. Even if he was terrified of her power, he’d still figure out a way to keep being her father and keep taking care of her. 

Except, he’s not scared. A bit uncomfortable out of a basic desire for privacy. Incredibly concerned, for the safety of both their fake identities, even if Anya had been able to masterfully juggle all her secrets so far. And already exhausted, knowing that on top of worrying about his past thoughts he’s going to spend the next few weeks meticulously planning contingency plans in case anyone else finds out. 

(Anyone. Including WISE.) 

Twilight is feeling, and thinking, a lot in this moment. But he’s not scared. 

Not angry, either. It’d be hypocritical for him to resent her for keeping secrets. 

Twilight finds that, against every trained instinct, he trusts Anya. It’ll take some getting used to, and learning how to keep the really private stuff private within his own mind, but he’s okay with Anya knowing his identity. 

Of course, that doesn't negate the fact that he would not have told her if he’d been givin the option. She’s six years old for God’s sake! Knowing their parent is in constant danger can be incredibly detrimental and heavily affect the development of children that young- 

Wait. 

“Anya, how old are you?” Loid asks slowly. 

“I’m Anya Forger, I’m six years old and I live in Berlint.” Anya recites. 

“No, well good job remembering, but that’s not what I’m asking. How old are you actually?” 

“Oh.” Anya scrunches her face in concentration. 

 Anya shrugs. “I dunno.”

Loid rubs at his face with a groan. He’d noticed she was behind in a lot of developmental milestones. He even considered she might be younger than she claimed, but he couldn’t logic a reason as to why she’d lie, so he dismissed the concern. 

How the hell was he supposed to guess this? 

In his pocket, the glass pager starts vibrating insistently. It had buzzed a few times during their previous conversation but he’d mostly ignored it. For obvious reasons. 

Loid contemplates just continuing to ignore the strange device. The constant low level hum isn’t really all that bothersome. 

The pager starts shrieking. 

Loid fumbles to pull the pager out, cringing against the shrill noise. Anya blinks at him, seemingly unbothered. 

On the screen there are two lines of text, both encapsulated in little boxes. 

17 missed messages 

New message received 

It’s different from the previous text. Loid briefly considers the possible danger (re: guns, poison gasses, bombs) of interacting with something new in this damned room. 

The small device is loud , and the volume only seems to be growing. Anya starts to make the face she does when she tries Yor’s cooking. 

“Wh’as that noise?” She mumbles. Twilight curses. 

There’s no buttons on the device, but the text before compared it to a pager or remote. So maybe there’s hidden buttons or switches? Hidden where? Does he touch the text itself? 

The sound is reaching a painful fever pitch, and has apparently gotten loud enough for Anya to cover her ears and frown properly. 

Fuck it, Loid thinks, and presses down on the text. 

The shrieking stops. 

“Papa thought a bad word.” Anya points out, hands still pressed to her ears. 

“Don’t repeat it.” Twilight says offhandedly, frowing down at the device. “Your mother will kill me.”  

“Mmkay.” Anya agrees, in the tone of voice that means she will absolutely do exactly what he told her not too as soon as the opportunity presents itself. 

Twilight resigns himself to deal with the consequences later. The screen had changed to what looks almost like a log of telegram messages, but completely one sided. There’s a few hairline cracks on the screen; when he goes to swipe his thumb over them they seal over. 

Touching the screen also seems to move the text. He does it again, and follows the log all the way up to the first messages he received on the TV. 

I can manipulate these images just by touch…

“Like magic?” Anya gasps. “Gimme!” She grabs at the device, which Twilight easily keeps out of her reach. 

“That’s not how you ask for things.” He chastises, then pauses. “Also, it’s rude to read minds without permission.”

Anya puffs out her cheeks, affronted. “Says who?”  

Loid presses his lips together. … Okay, technically there aren't official etiquette rules about telepathy. 

“Ha! See!” 

“Well I guess we’ll have to make it a rule.” 

Anya’s eyes go wide and her lip quivers. “Thas’ not fair! Anya can’t just stop.” 

Loid raises an eyebrow. “You can’t control it?” 

“Um. Kinda?” Anya frowns. “Is’ like, listening, but with thoughts instead of ears.” 

More questions spawn in Loid’s mind, but before he can ask the pager starts buzzing again. He glances at it, remembering the shrill noise from before. 

STOP IGNORING ME 

BITCH

HEY

LISTEN

“You’re obnoxious.” Loid scowls. “And if you hurt my daughter like that again, I will hunt you down, and no force on earth or hell will protect you from my wrath.” 

Okay okay! I’m sowwy mistew spy pwease fowgive me :( 

I have never wanted to kill someone so badly, Loid thinks. Then considers if it’s a problem that Anya can likely hear him think that. Does he need to start disguising his own thoughts? Or-

HOLY SHIT you are SO easily distracted 

PLEASE go back to the video this is taking SO long

If everyone has reactions like this we’re gonna be here till next year and I have an english essay due at the end of the week

Twilight's eyes narrow. “You go to school?” 

I’m a collage student 

“Studying what ?”

Devil worship and fucking with the laws of physics 

And spy-cology :) 

Loid scowls at the text. Anya pulls on his sleeve. 

“Papa, can Anya play with the thingy?” 

“No. It could give you radiation poisoning.” …Or rabies or something. 

Anya pouts. Then her pocket buzzes. 

She grins, and takes out her own device. 

“...I forgot about that.” Loid admits. He sighs and rubs at his eyes. “I would take it, but I don’t think it’ll be productive.” 

“Papa look! Anya can make the words dance!” 

A new message comes in on both their devices. 

Please keep watching. 

I am begging now.

Please.  

Loid considers for a moment. Now that Anya knows he’s a spy, there’s not much reason to avoid the video and the possible information he could glean from it. 

He’s about to get up when a button(?) appears on the screen of his glass device, reading ‘Play.’ He pointedly pushes aside semi-paranoid concerns about the couch stabbing/shooting/eating Anya, and taps it cautiously. 

The video starts again. The narrator is talking about Anya’s telepathy. 

Test subject: 007

Loid’s eyes narrow. He looks at Anya, but she’s very pointedly looking away from him. 

“Wow! This thingy sure is fun!” She says, forced cheer in her voice. 

…I’ll look into it later. Twilight decides. Anya’s been through enough turmoil tonight; he can wait to grill her on something she clearly doesn't want to talk about. Any information she shares can’t be acted on until they leave anyway. For now he has to focus on escape, for him and her. 

Still, Twilight scoops Anya up from the arm of the couch and situates her in the safest place in the room. On his lap. 

Anya goes along easily, happy to cuddle with her Papa after a scary and tiring conversation. 

The next few minutes of footage are relatively uninteresting, since it only seems to feature scenes Loid was actively present for. There are a few moments of deep shame and regret that make him want to slap his past self upside the head, but he forces down the self-directed anger for the sake of Anya and her apparent inability to ignore the things she hears with telepathy. 

There are a few moments that offer some interesting new perspective, like finally understanding why Anya panicked and hid under the sign, or the realization that her love for Bondman wasn’t as much of a coincidence as he’d thought. 

Understanding me will lead to world peace?! 

Loid smiles softly to himself. 

The difference between how he acted around her back then and now is palpable. Past him struggled with the most basic parts of parenting that current Loid wouldn’t even bat an eye at. 

It makes him… proud. To see how far he’s come. 

As soon as I’m done with this mission, I’m sending her back to the orphanage. 

Only for said pride to be immediately replaced with a desire to strangle his past self. 

“‘S okay, Papa.” Anya says.

“Hmp. Okay.” Loid hums, disbeliving. Anya had spoken before he had a chance to panic his way through assuring her that is no longer the case and hasn’t been for a while. (Even if he fully refused to admit it before now.) 

“Mmhm! Anya knows Papa doesn't feel like that anymore. Thas’ what’s important.” Anya declares, grinning.  

“I suppose.” Twilight doesn’t feel great about his daughter hearing these thoughts- especially when she’d been so concerned about him abandoning her. But it seemed like Anya had more time to process this than he did, and there was the whole she’s currently listening to my thoughts concern. So he shoves his worries into a little steel box labeled ‘compartmentalization’ and vows to deal with them later. 

I don't need to study to do any tests! I’ll just read people’s minds! 

Loid quirks an eyebrow. Her grades are so low even while cheating…?  

“Cheating is hard work!” Anya huffs, crossing her arms. Loid pats her head apologetically. 

The video shows their mini argument about going out, and the subsequent “game” of hide and seek. While he’d been frustrated at the time, now Twilight smiles at the memory. 

Loid is slightly relieved when the video shows him interacting with Franky, and the informant doesn't appear like Anya did when she was on screen. Franky seems like the logical next person relevant enough to appear. Perhaps, if he’s lucky, no one else will. 

I couldn’t find anything about her birth… no info on her age or parents, either… only info from the last year…

Loid makes a mental note to send Franky digging for as much info as possible when they get back. 

…she's been adopted and returned four times…

Twilight hugs Anya a bit closer. The fact that such a wonderful child had been returned so many times had always baffled him, but new information is building a picture he doesn't enjoy. 

His conversation with Franky finishes, and the video transfers into Anya home alone. 

(...Not Loid’s best parenting moment.) 

Anya squirms on his lap, and Loid opens his arms so she can stand and face him. 

“Let's play a game!” Anya requests, half blocking Loid from the screen. 

Ohh! Secret messages! Anya says on screen, playing with Twilight’s spy equipment. 

Well. That’s one mystery solved. Twilight thinks, eyebrow raised. 

Anya giggles nervously. “Nevermind! Anya’s tired.” She settles back into her seat. Loid sighs. 

If he finds out I’m a telepath I’ll have to leave. 

Loid frowns. Anya grabs one of his arms, hugging it to her chest as she sits on his lap. 

On screen a memory appears of shadowy figures in lab coats. 

Now, enough playing. Back to studying.

This is. Confusing. And concerning. (And a bit guilt inducing, considering how much Loid makes Anya study). 

Just the sheer fact that his young- younger than he even thought - daughter has been through so much. 

Anya knows almost everything about Loid. And Twilight. … Or Twilight? The difference is hard to find. Twiloid? Loidlight? Ugh- 

Anya knows almost everything about her father. But he’s starting to realize how little he knows about her. 

Loid vows to himself that as soon as they get back he and Franky will figure out what happened. He’ll make another thousand contingency plans to protect Anya. And, if necessary, he’ll take a more… proactive approach to ensuring her safety. 

On screen Twilight returns home, and sees the suspicious markings on the floor. He enters the apartment and-

“Waku waku!” Anya exclaims as the Twilight on screen takes out the criminals that invaded their home. 

“Papa is so cool!” She tilts her head back to look up at him. “Will you teach me cool spy stuff now that you know I know that you’re a spy?” 

Twilight's heart palpitates with anxiety at the thought. He forces a smile. “Maybe if you eat your green peppers.” 

Anya pouts. 

The palpitations return when he sees Edgar shoot a lacky in the head, right in front of Anya . 

Oh my good God so much therapy. More therapy than I was already calculating. How do I find a good therapist?? 

On the screen Twilight sees himself, disguised as Nguyen, arrive to rescue Anya. He can see the exact moment where Anya recognizes him and clutches on to him. He sees Anya crying for him, and his mind wrapped up in memories monologue back to him. 

To create a world where children don’t cry… That’s why I became a spy. 

He sees Anya turn. 

The scene transitions back to his confrontation with Edgar, which Anya is more than happy to get to witness. But Loid is distracted, thinking about the events right before and after. 

He sees Anya there waiting for him, and realizes something. 

She chose me.  

He feels like an idiot for taking so long to choose her back. 

On the screen they head to their (second) new home, and then he takes Anya to the test. Seeing her struggle to cheat gives him some interesting insight on how her powers work. 

The last few things that happen- getting the entrance exam results, collapsing, mail, etc- are (again) less interesting since he was there. However, he does wish he could have a picture of him and Anya on the couch. (Not that anyone could ever see it.) 

The video screen goes dark. 

“... Are we done?” Loid asks the ceiling. 

Something crashes behind them. 

Bomb! Loid’s mind shrieks. He rolls off the couch, Anya in his arms, and dives for cover. 

He rapidly checks them both for injury, but finds nothing. Hesitantly he inches up to see over the couch. 

Behind is another, identical couch. 

Yor is sleeping on it. 

Oh god fucking dammit. 

“That’s another bad word!” Anya accuses from the floor. 

Chapter Text

Yor is going to find out. Is the first thing Twilight thinks, and he’s surprised at how terrifying that thought is. 

He should be worried about his mission. He should be coming up with extraction plans, figuring out some way to break this off cleanly without compromising the entire rest of the organization. He should be figuring out how to salvage this whole situation without tipping off Yuri and the SSS. 

Instead, mournfully, he thinks: She’s going to ask for a divorce. 

Twilight’s mind races, grasping clumsily for any possible way to fix this . He runs through any option he can think of, deems it unviable, and loops back to review his plans again. There must be something, some detail, some angle he hadn’t considered… 

In his arms Anya asks to be put down. Twilight does so in a haze, engrossed in his mental panic. 

His mind is moving so fast Anya can’t keep up enough to understand any of it. At this point though, she’s used to having to ignore her Papa’s racing thoughts. 

Anya bites her lip and rocks back and forth on her heels. Mama is still asleep, but she’s gonna wake up soon. And then she’s gonna know everything. 

It’s a little less scary, knowing that no matter what she’s always going to have her Papa to protect her. The thought of Mama finding out and not wanting her anymore still makes Anya want to scream and cry and kick and bang her fists on the floor. 

Also, Mama and Papa are going to figure out each other's secrets. 

Even if they both still want her, they might not want each other. Even worse, if this goes bad -bad they could get in a fight and hurt or even kill each other. 

Anya can’t let that happen!

From what Anya can understand of Papa’s thoughts, he still can’t figure out a way out without watching the video. Anya knows that if Papa can’t figure a way out, there’s probably nothing she could do either. Maybe she could figure something if there was another mind around to read, but she was certain no one else was around when she tried to check earlier. 

Which means that Mama is going to find out. No way to avoid it. Mama and Papa finding out each other's secrets on their own would be a disaster. 

But they’re not alone. Agent Anya is here! 

Anya nods resolutely. It’s up to her to save the day!

Anya pushes herself up onto the couch and then climbs up to stand on the back of it. 

“Anya!?” Papa startles out of his thinking and reaches out to grab her, but he’s too late. 

Anya jumps to the other couch. 

“Wake up Ma-!” 

Anya belly flops hard , directly on top of Mama. 

Landing on Mama is like landing on a pile of human shaped rocks; all of Anya’s breath is knocked out of her and she cuts off mid-word.

Mama’s eyes flutter open. “Anya?” She squints blearily. 

“Hi...” Anya groans. “Mama has too many muscles…”

“Yor.” Papa smiles as he stands beside them. Papa tries to force a smile but it just looks strained and fake. Why did she do that?! Then he thinks, Anya if you’re listening I hope you know we’re both in big trouble now. 

Anya looks up to give him an annoyed look. Papa quirks an eyebrow. 

Does she… Do you have a plan? 

Anya nods.

Papa’s too good of a liar to react, but Anya can feel his frustration. She hears him mentally going through a lot of other times she said something to cover for him.  

Just… don’t say anything about me. Okay?

Anya grins and gives him a thumbs up. Papa starts thinking about his ulcer and Anya decides to stop listening. 

Anya leans forward with a grin. “Mama, we’ve been kidnapped!” She announces cheerfully. 

“What?!” Mama shrieks, jolting upright. Anya starts to fall back, but Mama’s arms raise up to catch her and pull her into a protective hug. For a moment all Anya can feel is safe and warm , and forgets she’s supposed to be fixing the problem. She’s tired, and scared about what’s gonna happen next, and she just wants to enjoy hugging her Mama. 

Mama glances around the room, her mind racing the fastest Anya’s ever heard it. Mama thinks something about “possible enemies” and “no witnesses”, and jumps from thing to thing almost as fast as Papa does when he’s thinking about his mission.

“Loid, hold Anya.” Mama declares, shoving Anya into Papa’s arms. 

“Wa-” Anya squawks a protest. 

Mama flashes to the wall, so fast it looks like she teleported. Cracks race outward from the center of the wall like a spiderweb, crumbling and dropping debris all the way to the edges. 

Mama steps back, shaking out her hand with a huff. There’s a clear imprint of her fist in the center of what used to be the wall. 

“-ait.” Anya finishes. Her hair is swept back a bit; Mama moved so fast she made wind . 

It’s stronger than I thought. Mama thinks to herself, teeth grit.

Papa steps toward her. “Yor, there’s something-”

“Get behind cover! I’m going to get us out of here.” 

Papa opens his mouth to protest, but Mama is already winding up for another swing. Anya sees the exact moment he realizes he can’t do anything, and he dives behind one of the couches with her. 

Boom, Boom, Boom , rings through the room each time Mama makes contact with the wall. Anya can’t see anything from where she is- cradled in Papa’s arms as he hunches over her- but she can feel the wind whipping around them. Anya tries to climb out of Papa’s grip to get a better look, but Papa easily snatches her back before she gets a chance to see anything . 

The booms grow farther and farther apart, until they stop all together and the only sound left is heavy breathing. Anya clambars her way onto the couch and this time Papa lets her. She peeks her head over the couch and-

The entire middle bit of the wall is gone . Instead there’s a tunnel, all the way from floor to ceiling and wide enough for a person to walk through. 

“So cool !” Anya can’t stop herself from whispering. 

If she keeps going, Mama can probably just dig them out! There might be some questions, but that way her and Papa never have to swap secrets and-

-why is the wall growing back?

Right before their eyes, the tunnel starts filling in back towards them. It almost looks like sand falling into a bucket, but if you could only see the sand once it already touched the bottom, and if the sand somehow had the exact same pattern as the wall paper. 

Mama takes a step back as the wall fills up all the way and smooths over. The random bits of stuff that flew around the room melt into the floor. Within seconds, the room is back to looking exactly like it did when they arrived. 

“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” Papa winces. “This room, it's … it’s some bizarre sort of technology I’ve never seen or heard of.” 

Mama clasps her hands over her mouth. “How do we get out?” She whispers. I can’t believe- I’ve doomed them! I really am such a terrible mother and wife!

Anya runs up and hugs her legs. “It’s okay Mama! We just need to watch the video!” 

Mama blinks down at her. “Video?” 

Something beeps in her pocket.

-=+=-

Yor pulls the weird little screen from her pocket. It lights up with text.

Welcome! Quick run down, you are not in danger but you cannot leave. I’m happy to wait while you prove that to yourself, if necessary. The only way to leave is for everyone in the room to watch the video on the screen, the video is about your life and will reveal all your secrets

The screen said more, but it was illegible after Yor instinctively shattered it in her hand. In a blind panic she hurls the broken thing across the room. It lodges itself into the wall, just above a pile of shattered glass and broken parts. Yor doesn’t notice, too caught up in her own thoughts. 

Our secrets? They can’t find out I’m an assassin! If they do then- then, her heart stalls, just a moment, I’ll lose them.

The mere thought brings tears to her eyes. 

“Mama and Anya need to have girl talk right now! ” Anya shrieks out of nowhere. It's surprising enough to shock Yor from her despair, and she reaches down to sweep Anya up into her arms. 

“Anya, sweetheart, what-?”

“Right now!” Anya insists. “You and me go and talk, and Papa isn’t allowed to listen ‘cus it’s girl talk, and Becky says it’s a crime for boys to listen to girl talk.” 

Anya looks smugly at her father. Loid looks like he wants a drink. 

“Anya,” Yor starts carefully, “Are you sure right now is the best time for this? I think maybe we should be figuring a way out of here.” Please let there be a way out of here.  

“I think you should talk with her.” Loid says, surprisingly. “I haven’t been able to figure our way out yet and… I think… It's important. To listen.” 

Yor blinks at him. “A-alright.”

Anya grins up at her. Then she whips around to point a scowl at her father. “Papa keeps his ears covered the whole time.”

Loid frowns. “I’m not doing that.”

“Do it or- or I’m never going to go to school again! And if you make me I’ll fail everything on purpose!” 

“Alright! Alright!” Loid puts his hands over his ears. Anya motions for him to turn around, and he does with a sigh. 

Yor smiles to herself and turns back to Anya. “Is there something you wanted to tell me?” She asks. 

Anya gets all shy suddenly, focusing on picking a loose string on Yor’s sweater instead of looking her in the eye. 

“Anya?” Yor asks softly. 

“Are you always gonna want me, Mama?” Anya asks. 

Yor’s eyes widen. “What? Of course Anya!” She insists. Why is she asking that? Have I been doing such a bad job at parenting that she thinks I don’t want to be her mother anymore?!

Anya keeps picking at Yor’s sweater. “Even if I had a big, scary secret? Even if I wasn’t who you thought I was?” 

A big secret? Yor hardly thinks there’s anything that could be a bigger secret than ‘secret assassin’ but even if there was, she couldn’t think of anything that would make her not want to be Anya’s mother anymore. Anya could be… well she could be anything , a killer or a secret robot or a Westalis spy, or a combination of all three and Yor couldn’t stop loving her with every fiber of her heart. 

And even if I wasn’t who you thought? Yor relaxes, and smiles at that. 

“Anya, I know exactly who you are. You’re Anya Forger, my daughter.” Yor tries to pour every bit of love in her heart into those words. Anya looks up, gaze filled with hope, finally meeting her eyes.

“You’re sweet, and silly, and you love peanuts. You watch Bondman every night, and you try super hard on your homework, even when you hate it.” Yor smooths Anya’s hair back, and lays a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

“I might not know everything about you, but I still know you. A secret, no matter how big, can’t change that. And I might be your second Mama, but I’m never going to stop wanting you. So unless you tell me to leave, you’ll be stuck with me forever.” Yor’s smile falls. Well, you might tell me to leave quite soon…

Anya buries her face in Yor’s neck and hugs her tightly. Yor’s eyes widen. 

 “I would never , ever tell you to leave Mama.” Anya says with all the vindication a child like her can muster. 

Yor smiles softly, blinking back tears. She closes her eyes and leans her head to rest on top of Anya’s. 

After a long comfortable moment, Yor breaks the silence. “Do you want to tell me your secret? You don’t have too if you don’t want too, but if it’ll make you feel better-”

“No, I gotta tell you. It’s important, but it’s scary.” Anya pouts adorably, but Yor can feel how tense she is. Yor dosen’t push her either way, just holds Anya and sways as she waits. 

Eventually Anya picks her head up. Yor tilts her head, and Anya whispers into her ear:

“I know you’re an assassin-” 

WHAT?!

“Because I’m a telepath.”

…what? 

Yor’s panic at the first confession was so intense she almost missed the second one completely. Is this… some sort of joke? How would Anya manage something so absurd and specific-

“It’s not a joke!” Anya insists, even though Yor didn’t say anything. “Think a number and I'll tell you exactly what it is.” 

Five hundred. 

“Five hundred!” 

Negative seven.

“Neg-a-tive seven!”

Pi!

“Pie’s not a number.” Anya frowns. 

Yor needs to sit down. “Well I certainly believe you.” She says breathlessly. She can’t conceive of any possible way for Anya to be faking, or for any reason why she might be.

“And… you’re not mad?” Anya asks. Yor snaps back into focus. 

“Never!” She smooths back Anya’s hair. “I never want you to be scared to tell me anything. And even if I was mad, I’d still want to be your Mama.” 

Anya smiles tearfully, and giggles. “Papa said the same thing.” 

Yor glances across the room. Loid is still sitting on the ground with his hands still over his ears. “So your father already knew…?” 

Anya shakes her head. “I jus’ told him. The little screen says we gotta say our secrets, or else it’s gonna say for us.”

Yor feels all the blood rush from her face. “I- I can’t.” He’ll leave me and take her and then I’ll lose them both! Even if Anya already knew, no sane man would raise his daughter with an assassin as a mother!

Something makes a ding in Anya’s pocket and she pulls it out. “The little screen says if we don’t hurry up and choose it’s going to choose for us.” 

Part of Yor feels furious at that, being threatened by this strange little coward hiding where she can’t even properly fight it! The rest is overcome by panic, and trying not to think too many bad things while Anya is in ear shot. (Think shot?) She takes a deep breath and tries to collect her thoughts. 

Yor frowns at the ground. “So you’ve always known, about me. But he…” 

“He’s got no clue!” Anya confirms with a grin. Then her expression sobers, much more serious than a child her age should be capable of. “It didn’ seem fair, to tell your secret but not his.” 

“Loid has a secret?” Yor’s heart squeezes painfully. Were the neighbor ladies right? Is he really-?

“It’s nothing like that!” Anya cuts off Yor’s internal thoughts. 

“Then what is it?” 

“I promised not to tell. But I want…” Anya trails off with a frown. It’s a long moment before she starts again. “Papa lies a lot , but he’s really bad at it. All the real, real important stuff, he can’t hide no matter how hard he tries. I would know! So I think when you hear his secret it’s gonna be scary and make you real mad, but I think you should think and listen before you get mad, ‘cus even if the secret seems really big and scary at first, it’s not really as big as you think.” 

Yor stares down at her daughter, and sees a disconcerting sort of wisdom. It’s hard for Yor to wrap her head around the concept of ‘telepathy’, but when she looks at Anya right now… Well, she sees her little girl. But she also sees a child with too much insight to the world around her, a child carrying too much on her tiny shoulders. 

Yor closes her eyes. She’s known the whole time. We’re going to have to talk about that.

She looks at Loid. Her husband, who’s apparently been keeping a secret. A secret that, at least in Anya’s eyes, rivals her own. 

Later. We’ll talk later. At home. After we figure this whole mess out.