Archive of Our Own

Anya had to hug her knees to fit within the small cupboard under the sink. She’d padded the space with towels, but it still wasn’t the most comfortable hiding place.

She had no idea how long she’d been here.

Is it dinner time yet?

Anya flinched at her own thought like it had come from someone else. She held her breath until her stomach growled.

She’d just have to get used to it.

There weren’t going to be dinners anymore. Or lunches. Or breakfasts. Or… or… snacks. There would be dry wooden orange carrots, or mushy lumps that were also somehow slimy. It would be a war between the pain of her stomach being empty, or the sick feeling of it being full.

Anya closed her eyes against the burn of tears. She’d already drenched one hand towel, and she only had so many dry ones. Her small hiding place under the sink wouldn’t last for long. They’d move her soon, and then there wouldn’t be hiding places anymore.

Papa…

No. Papa couldn’t find out. These men knew who Anya was, what she was. She could hear one of them right below, trying to determine how best to recover their interrupted research. As much as she wanted to go home- back to mission headquarters, she knew it would be worse if he found her here.

“You know too much,” Papa would say coldly, loading his gun. “I’ll have to-”

No!

He wouldn’t. That was just… that was what the villains did. Papa wasn’t a villain.

“You can read minds?” Papa would say. Inside, he’d be thinking ‘It’s too dangerous. I’ll take her back to the orphanage and get a kid who can do math. If I can find one that looks like Anya, we can dye her hair to-

No.

Anya scrubbed at her eyes furiously. No. It would be better if Mama came. Nobody would have time to talk before she killed them. She would just find Anya and save her.

And then Papa would start investigating where she’d gone. He’d find the bodies. He’d find out who wanted to take her, and why.

He would sit across the table from her, smiling with his face, but thinking; ‘This girl is too big of a threat.’

Anya shivered and hugged the rolled towel tight. She wanted to be back safe in their arms. She wanted to hear Mama’s humming, Papa’s cluttered thinking. She wanted to go back to Thursday when she’d managed to get Papa agree to cake before dinner.

She missed Bond.

Anya hiccuped. Outside, someone passed by;

‘The little brat finally stopped screaming. But, it’s too quiet. She didn’t die somehow, did she-?’

Anya pushed the cupboard door, letting it bump closed again. The noise was enough to prevent the guard from checking in on her.

‘Guess she finally ran out of steam.’

Anya held her breath until he was out of range. Then she got back to planning her escape.

‘Transportation is the riskiest stage of an operation,’ Papa had thought more than once in her hearing. Her three attempts so far hadn’t been successful, but just like Papa, she wasn’t going to give up easily. She had watched two seasons of Spy Wars and had one year of listening to Papa think.

She could do this.

Twilight checked the perimeter twice before calling in a confirmation to his teammate. The old country house, which should be empty, had its lights on in the early evening. He’d counted a total of six men, which didn’t exceed the capacity of the two covered cars parked out of sight of the road.

Six adults, and one small child. 

Twilight steadied his breathing. It wasn’t confirmed that she was here. They may have already moved her, or she was yet to arrive. He hoped they could resolve this quickly, she’d already been missing for twenty four hours. His excuse that Anya was over at the Blackbell’s would run thin if he couldn’t get her back tonight.

It was a school night, after all.

Twilight grit his teeth. School didn’t matter if he didn’t have Anya. One thing at a time, Twilight.

The house wasn’t in disrepair, so it was strange that the upstairs bathroom window was boarded up. The property belonged to one of the old regime’s party members, a quiet little piece of luxury off the books and out of sight. It was exactly the kind of place that might be commandeered by the secret police for private operations, but Bradly Wilmsey was a champion at failing in the right direction. It still seemed to be in his possession.

A private residence and a little cash flow on the side. He didn’t know if Mr. Wilmsey was in charge of the operation, or just the landlord. It would be worth investigating his finances at any rate.

The people he was tracking were a small independent group of mercenaries. They were working in secret, which suited him perfectly. It made it easier for him to bring in backup.

It would be better if Anya wasn’t given a chance to recognize him. He’d never hear the end of it. She already spiked his blood pressure with every reference to his job as a spy-chologist. He didn’t know how he’d cover for her stories about him running around with a balaclava and a gun. 

Spy Wars would have to do some heavy lifting. 

Twilight shook himself. He spotted the dark shape of his colleague cutting through the grass. 

“Twilight,” Dusk said in an undertone. “What’s the plan?”

“Still plan A,” Twilight said. “I’ve counted six, but there could be up to eight. Ten would be pushing it. Be on your toes, there’s two guarding the back entrance, which likely means they’ve blockaded the other doors. It looks like they’ve got access to military equipment.” 

“And the package?” Dusk asked in an undertone.

“No visual,” Twilight said. “But the upstairs bathroom appears to be fortified.” 

Luckily, there was no basement in the plans.

Dusk sucked in his breath. “You think-?” 

Twilight shook his head. “Don’t break anything. If we have to set up an ambush, it needs to look untouched. Try to leave one or two alive, if possible.” 

Dusk looked at him hard. Such a reminder was… excessive, almost insulting. Twilight tightened the silencer on his gun. The unasked question hung thick in the air.

Are you compromised? (Are you thinking straight?)

Child victims were hard for everybody. He didn’t need to pretend it didn’t bother him.

That would be inhuman.

“I’ll focus on securing the upper level,” Twilight said. If she was up there, he could at least make sure none of their targets got to her first. Dusk could carry her out once they knew it was safe. “Feel free to make some noise. Operate as though I’m not there.” Stoicism had its place, but not right before trusting your life to your teammate. “There’s no need to be gentle,” Twilight said quietly. 

He could allow himself that much.

“Got it,” Dusk said with a tight smile.

They split and moved quickly. Twilight scaled the brick siding up to the window of the room adjacent to the bathroom. It was dark outside and the room's light was on, but he still had to be careful not to catch anyone’s eye as he peeked in. The furniture was covered in dust sheets, and one of them was sprawled on a love seat picking his nails. The other was looking out the far window, out towards the back entrance. The man wasn’t looking down. He hadn’t spotted Dusk yet. Twilight could hear the low rumble of conversation, but not what they were saying.

There was a chair wedged under the handle of the door leading to the fortified bathroom. 

She was in there. 

He wouldn’t be able to get into the room while those men were there. He’d have to find another way to draw them out to-

Shit, the man watching the back was going for his gun! Had he noticed Dusk? Twilight reached for the window, heedless of being seen. It wouldn’t be pretty, but he could take down these two before- 

Suddenly there was an ear-splitting scream from inside the house. 

Anya! 

The two men, no three, the third had been just on the other side of the wall from him, moved toward the bathroom.

No! Twilight jammed his knife through the window lock, splintering the casing. The window popped free and he shot all three targets before both his feet were on the floor.

The shriek wound down into frightened sobbing. Twilight’s heart hurt. The urge to go to her was almost overwhelming.

Not yet, he thought, not yet. Make sure it’s safe. If she can cry like that, she’s still breathing. A few more minutes is (absolutely not) fine. Better she didn’t have to see this mess on top of everything.

He checked the bodies, though there was very little chance of them surviving a shot to the head. He tried to keep his breathing steady, don’t think about her crying, and- 

Downstairs, a cabinet crashed. Twilight backed himself up to the wall, gun at the ready. Footsteps, gunshots, voices he didn’t recognize. 

At least seven men, he thought. Two at the back, three up here, and two downstairs inside the house. He checked the rest of the upstairs to make sure it was clear before he crept down the stairs. A man in fatigues was cautiously passing the foyer, his attention on someone Twilight couldn’t see. The man tensed, about to shoot, but he didn’t have a chance to scream before Twilight took him down.

Dusk stepped into view, gun at the ready. He looked up at Twilight. Twilight raised four fingers, pointing at the downed kidnapper.

Dusk raised three and a half. 

Twilight raised an eyebrow and Dusk shrugged. They split and swept the main floor before speaking.

“Three and a half?” Twilight asked.

“I left one alive,” Dusk said. “Which is more than I could say for you.”

“She screamed and drew their attention,” Twilight said. “I couldn’t let them potentially secure a hostage, and that last one was gunning for you.” 

He didn’t need to justify himself. 

Dusk sighed. “Anyway, you’d better come see this first.” He motioned down the hallway and Twilight followed. 

“This wasn’t a typical snatch and grab operation,” Dusk said quietly. “One of the men wasn’t a fighter. Looks more like a doctor.” 

“Medical?” 

“Maybe?” Dusk said. “He brought some equipment with him.” 

He opened the door to the dining hall, the first room he’d seen without the dust covers. A man in a lab coat was passed out on the floor, his hands and ankles neatly bound. A doctor’s bag scattered its contents beside him, which explained Dusk’s ‘maybe’. There was what looked like polygraph equipment mixed in with cotton swabs, bandages and… radio transceivers? 

There was a journal and a few files next to a blood testing apparatus on the table.

Twilight picked up one of the vials of dark blood. Numbers were written on the side, nothing like the careful records kept at his cover hospital. 007, and today's date. 

He set it down carefully and turned to the file on top of the-

“Papa!” Anya screamed, her voice clear through the floor directly above him. 

It struck Twilight like lightning and he was running before he knew it. How did she know I was-? 

“I want my Mama! I want my Papa!” Anya shrieked, and then she made another wordless scream that turned Twilight’s blood to ice.

Was someone in there with her? Had he missed one? He could have sworn she was alone, why else would the men have moved to check on her, but- 

“Papa!” Anya wailed.

“Twilight!” Dusk said, chasing after him. “What are you-”

“Shut up and cover me,” Twilight said curtly. Anya wasn’t supposed to know that name. 

He tore the chair away from the door, dragging one of the bodies out of the way in the process. Dusk had his gun ready, eyes sharp, thankfully putting off his questions for later.

Twilight pulled his own before flinging open the door to find- 

-an empty bathroom.

A quiet empty bathroom. Anya had suddenly stopped screaming as soon as he had opened the door.

He swallowed his rising panic, forcing himself to take stock methodically. It was a large tiled room. The tub sat below the boarded up windows, and the old fashioned toilet took up the opposite wall. There were towels strewn on the floor, some appeared damp. Bottles and soaps and all the things one usually kept under the sink were piled on the floor. The tub was empty.

A black piece of fabric was pinched between the doors of the cupboard under the sink. 

Twilight’s blood pressure dropped slightly. He held up a hand to Dusk and stowed his own gun. Now that it was quiet he could hear the noisy breathing of a child in hiding. 

He should let Dusk get her. He shouldn’t be the one to- 

“Anya?” he said quietly, crouching in front of the cupboard. 

The breathing stopped. 

Doesn’t she know my voice? The thought hurt. He ignored the feeling.

He reached for the door. “Anya? It’s okay, you’re-”

The wall of sound nearly knocked him over. Anya screamed at a pitch that pierced his heart. She screamed like she was dying. 

“Anya! Anya, it’s me!” he ripped off his mask- stupid, stupid Twilight- and held out his arms. “Anya, please-” 

Was she hurt? Was she even seeing him? 

There was no blood that he could see, but she just looked so small, and she was wedged so tightly into the corner.

Please be okay, Anya, please be okay. 

“Anya, it’s me,” he pleaded. “You’re okay, you’re safe.” 

He wasn’t sure if she stopped because she heard him or if she had just run out of breath. She coughed as she gasped for air and blinked and then she was there again, his little girl. 

She breathed in shakily and wiped at her eyes, but she was seeing him now. “Papa?” she asked quietly. 

“Yes,” Twilight said. If there were tears in his eyes, they were from the screaming. “Yes, it’s me, you’re safe.” 

She watched him warily. “You’re not… mad?” 

Mad? Why would he be mad? Not at Anya, at any rate. He was just happy she was in one piece, safe in front of him. 

(Why had he thought it would be okay for someone else to get her?)

“No, I’m not angry,” he said. He didn’t want to force her out of the cupboard before she was ready, but he needed to see if she was hurt. “Come here, Anya.” 

She blinked down at his hands and then back up to his face. “You’re not going to throw me away?” 

What the hell? Where was she getting all these ideas? 

(He shouldn’t have killed those men. He had… questions.)

“No,” he said. “I’m going to take you home.” 

Tears welled in Anya’s eyes again. “Anya wants to go home,” she said. Tentatively, she put her hand on his and then she gave him a shakey smile. 

Twilight smiled back. “Let’s go home.” 

She fell into his arms and he could finally breathe again. He held her tight, ignoring Dusk shaking his head. Anya clutched him harder.

“Let’s go home,” Twilight said.

He left the cleanup to Dusk. He had to get Anya home before Yor started to ask questions, and he couldn't risk Anya seeing more than she already had.

The next day, Silvia made him sleep instead of giving his report. 

“Dusk was thorough enough for the both of you,” she’d said. “And I know you didn’t sleep last night.” 

Anya hadn’t either. He’d had to come up with some quick excuses for Yor; that they’d witnessed a terrible accident on the way home. That Anya had been frightened by the paramedics when they checked on her. He had to keep the details light, hold himself back from embellishing, but he needed something to explain Anya’s endless tears.

It was flimsy, but somehow Anya had sold it from the centre of the storm. 

He felt guilty about the lie. Anya should be able to cry about what really happened, and here he was coaching her to hide it. At least Yor had stepped up to the plate admirably, but Anya didn’t want him to leave her sight. 

She also hadn’t wanted him to go into work today, but he’d won that battle by simply waiting until she fell asleep. School was out of the question. Luckily, Yor had been able to take a last minute day off to watch over her. 

He hadn’t expected Sylvia to give him a whole four hours of rest. He was still groggy when he awoke but much better than he had been. 

He should have known she wasn’t doing it just to be kind.

“This is a report on the information from your mission,” Sylvia said. She looked like she was the one who’d been up for forty eight hours. 

“I take it there was more to it than ransom,” he said.

Sylvia’s eyes went flatter. The weariness added ten years to her face. 

He reached for the file, but her hand remained on top. “I need you to know this wasn’t your fault,” she said. 

Twilight’s stomach tried to eat itself. Outwardly, he kept his breath steady and even. “That isn’t really reassuring.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t meant to be,” she said. “What’s in here is heavy. Take your time, don’t try to manage your reactions. None of us could have seen this coming. Remember, I am on your side.”

That… shouldn’t be in question. 

He slid the folder towards himself when she finally lifted her hand. 

At first, he thought it was a joke.

Subject 007: Telepath. Anya- 

“I don’t have a sense of humour, Twilight.” 

“This is pseudoscience,” he said. “This is some quack trying to justify state investment.” He flipped to the part of the report where these grifters were writing up a report on his daughter’s brain frequencies. A fraudulent science experiment they hired seven mercenaries to retrieve.

“The hypothesis matches the same inconsistencies you’ve noted in your reports,” Sylvia said. “You’ve been confirming this research blindly the whole time.” 

He felt bile in his throat, and his stomach burned like a knife wound. “It’s impossible.” 

“It should be,” she agreed. 

That damn crossword. Her immediate failures at school. Her rare insight, like she could see right through him…

Her flinching before he even opened his mouth.

Then Silvia had to catch his head as he blacked out. Twilight got through the rest of the report with a garbage can, a strike pad and plenty of water. Consequences tore his mind to shreds as he tried to account for it all.

She knows. She knows everything. She’s known the whole time.

He was going to have to go through the last year with a fine tooth comb. He could see the records of his reports sitting behind his handler. She had already started. 

The first shock was the worst. All the little aftershocks weren’t pleasant, but… 

Things gradually started to make sense. A lot of sense, actually. Her strange behaviour, the good and the bad. How his anxiety seemed to nudge her into the most beneficial-

Not just his anxiety. She’d been taking direction from him. 

*

“Project Strix?” he rasped as he flipped through meaningless blood test reports. No wonder needles were a problem.

“Get through the file first,” Sylvia said. 

*

“She knew the whole time,” he said, reading a small passage in the daily log of her nutrition diary for the fifth time. 

Carrots are recommended to boost the- 

*

“Could she be a plant?” Twilight asked, breathing into the inside of his elbow in lieu of a paper bag. 

“They would have had to already have known to target you,” Sylvia said coolly. She pushed a glass of water towards him. “You know better than that.” 

“I didn’t know she was telepathic.” 

*

“She knows when I’m lying,” he said. 

Silvia paused and looked up at him. 

“I’m always lying,” he hissed. 

Sylvia smiled slightly. “Almost there.”

*

“She lied to me,” he said, looking at her recorded birth date. Younger than she’d told him. 

“I’d say you’re about even,” Sylvia said. 

*

“Telepathy is… depending on how it works…” Twilight whispered into his fingers, but Sylvia was listening.

“Mhm?” she said.

“Extremely… useful… in our kind of work…” Twilight said, his stomach twisting. He didn’t have much left in his system to throw up into the bucket, but his body gave a valiant effort.

“Go on,” Sylvia said. 

“Who else knows?” he asked her, heart beating a steady rhythm in his temples. He was dehydrated. 

If Anya were here, would she offer him a glass of water? 

He bit back his hysterical chuckle. 

“Dusk prepared the report,” Sylvia said. “I’ve read it, and now you.” 

“And after me?” he asked. Three was already too many people. He should have gone to retrieve her alone.

“That depends on what you want to do,” Sylvia said. 

“What I- what I want to do?” he wheezed. That rattle in his chest probably wasn’t good. “Project Strix is- Project Strix is compromised. Extremely compromised. That, at the very least, calls for a pause to the operation, and more likely a fully locked-down investigation.” 

He’d have to fake his and Anya’s deaths and find a neutral third country. He wondered how Yor felt about identity fraud.

Sylvia snapped her folder shut. She leaned forward. “It was compromised from day one,” she said. 

“She’s barely six years old, Silvia,” he said. “And she knows everything.”

“You’re still alive. She’s kept everything she knows a secret,” she said. “Your progress is promising, and it’s not just me who thinks so. The operation isn’t as unrecoverable as you currently imagine.” 

Twilight dragged a hand down his face. It was true. The mission was progressing well, despite Anya- because of Anya? His fingers dug into his cheek. “They’ll tear everything I’ve ever done apart if-” 

If we tell them. 

Twilight paused. Met Sylvia’s eyes. 

“There you are,” she said. “Are you ready to get back to work, Twilight?” 

It all came together, like a deck of cards neatly shuffled into the stack. The mission was still exactly as viable as it had been a week ago. Sure, Anya could read minds, but her being six was still the bigger liability. Sylvia wasn’t pulling the plug on them. 

Sylvia was a demanding boss, sure, but there was a reason he trusted her. 

Twilight could barely breathe. “You’re not going to tell them.” 

“It’s up to you to manage the peculiarities of Strix,” Sylvia said. “I don’t see how some fantastical experiment on a child should have more weight than your own judgment. There’s no reason to report unsupported conspiracy theories to the upper management.”

So, that was how they were going to play it? They would bury the whole event as the work of a delusional rogue scientist. It helped that the truth was less believable than the lie.

“We’re just going to ignore it?” he asked.

Sylvia frowned. “No, you are going to manage it. Anya is a key asset to Strix. It’s up to you to keep her in line with our goals.”

Right. He just needed to manage a telepath. 

Sylvia looked pained. “She’s still six, Twilight. Please tell me you aren’t worried about her blackmailing you.” 

Unbidden, a memory of Anya waxing poetic about ‘never having the will to go to school again’ over a stuffed toy came to mind. She had been manipulating him the whole time. “Right,” he said. “I’m still the one in control.”

All of Anya’s machinations tended to end in toys or food. Twilight still had the upper hand. 

“And after Strix?” he asked.

“Focus on surviving it first,” Sylvia said. 

“I need more than that,” he said. 

She scowled. “I have two days of work ahead of me, going through your old reports.” She had stacks of papers on her desk. One sheet was loaded into her personal type writer… the one with the chipped letter ‘e’. She was editing out anything that could give Anya away. She was doing it in a way that it could be traced back to her. 

It was better than a promise. It was leverage. He’d go over it once she was done, confirming their conspiracy.

Twilight let himself take the luxury of one more deep sigh. He swept his hair back. Greasy. he needed a shower. He had an… odour. All the small annoyances of his body were coming to the surface now that the initial crisis was past. “Thank you,” he said. 

“You look terrible,” she said, going back to her pile of papers. “Go home, Twilight.” 

Home. Hah.

“What do you need from me?” 

She flicked her eyes up at him in amusement. “I think you’ve already got your hands full with keeping the mission steady. You’ll need to reassess your relationship with Anya, see if she can continue as is or if she needs more support. Don’t worry about the paperwork, I’ll have the outlines prepped for you tomorrow.” 

Twilight frowned. “Should I talk about it with Dusk? Make sure we’re on the same page?” 

Sylvia rested her cheek on her fist. She still looked tired, but less like she’d pulled herself out of the grave. “I’ll handle Dusk.” 

Twilight nodded curtly and left.

He cleaned up before heading home. To his surprise, it wasn’t much later than he usually managed on a workday. It was probably time to start thinking about dinner, and- 

Maybe he should try to stop thinking so hard. 

Dammit. This was going to be… difficult.

This was the longest cover mission he’d ever done. He’d developed habits, and dangerous consistencies. He couldn’t afford to operate as the same affable Loid Forger. He had to completely rebuild his mental profile of ‘Anya’.

Well, she probably still hated carrots.

On a whim, he stopped by and bought a small bag of her favourite snack.

Why peanuts, of all things…

Twilight knew he wasn’t a good person. He had always known, but he had hoped that he could put all his worst impulses towards a good cause, if nothing else. His handler was supposed to pull him back if he went too far, but she seemed fully onboard with continuing to use Anya.

It felt like he was on his way to meet a new co-worker. 

She’s six, Twilight. 

No kid should have to walk the tightrope of such a demanding lie, but…

She’d always had a secret, hadn’t she? Who would have guessed that it was nearly as dangerous as his own. She didn’t have the luxury of innocence. She never would. 

He’d just have to support her properly. 

All this time, she’d been alone, afraid of being found out. Afraid of him finding out. 

‘Are you mad? Are you going to throw me away?’

He clenched his teeth, one of the few invisible expressions he could afford. How much of her fears were developed prior to him, and how much were inspired directly from his thoughts? Being exposed like this was among the worst of his nightmares. There was usually the accompanying threat of torture, failure and death, but being seen so totally was difficult to bear on its own. 

It was… it was out of his control.

He stopped in front of the door to the building. Above, he could see the warm lights from their living room. Could she hear him from here?

There was so much he didn’t know. 

He folded himself back into the lie of Loid Forger, trying not to shudder at how flimsy it felt now. He still needed to put up a front for Yor.

We are so lucky she’s such a kind, protective woman. Anya probably felt safe with her, knowing Yor could probably take him in a fight.

Twilight paused, hand on the knob of their flat. Was that why Anya felt safe with her? 

New possibilities unfurled in his mind as he opened the door. “I’m home,” he said, lifting his hat from his head and-

Anya started screaming. 

She and Yor were both sitting at the table, art supplies strewn about. Anya was staring at him in horror, mouth open in a rising howl.

Yor looked stunned. Before either of them could react, Anya pushed herself away from the table, ran to her room and slammed the door.

Twilight and Yor stared at each other in confused silence. 

“W-welcome home, Loid,” she said. She awkwardly got to her feet, forgetting the order of pushing out the chair and standing up. “I- I’m so sorry. She was fine, I don’t… She seemed fine just a minute ago?” 

Twilight sighed. “It’s fine,” he said, slowly working his way out of his coat. “I sort of expected something like this might happen.” 

Yor blinked. “Y-you did?” 

Twilight forced his face into something self-deprecating. “She’s probably still mad at me for leaving this morning.” 

“Oh, oh, right,” Yor said. “She just seemed to have forgotten about it. I guess I forgot how upset she was.” She looked over to the hallway where Anya had disappeared.

“She probably did forget until she saw me,” he said. He pulled the packet of peanuts out of his pocket and set down his briefcase. “I think I should go check on her.” 

“Right! Right, that sounds like an excellent idea,” Yor beamed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help her calm down as much as I hoped.” 

Twilight smiled. Through all of this, Yor had always just stepped up. It wasn’t like any partnership he’d experienced before, and gratitude melted away some of his unease. “Thank you Yor. None of this is your fault, and you even took the day off for us. I wouldn’t have been able to leave today if you weren’t here.” 

“Oh! No no, it was nothing, I’m just glad I could… I could…” she swallowed. “Help.” 

Twilight kept his smile, even as the awkward tension robbed it of its veracity. He needed to properly thank Yor, make sure she wasn’t feeling burdened, but he needed to get to Anya first. 

Before she tried to climb out the window.

Twilight paused. 

Anya, don’t climb out the window. Then you really will be in trouble. 

“Should I… should I start dinner?” Yor asked nervously. 

“That would be lovely,” he said. She beamed at him. He really needed to make it up to her. 

Bond grumbled from where he lay by the couch. 

Twilight sighed and went to Anya’s room. He knocked lightly. “Anya? Can I come in?” 

Silence. 

She had better not have-

He opened the door, breath catching when he saw the open window, drapes fluttering. His reason caught up a half second later. 

Penguin tucked in the bed, closet door closed, school backpack hastily hidden under the bed to appear missing, Chimera missing…

One small foot just visible by the corner of the bed. 

Anya jerked her foot out of view. 

That answers that question, he thought. He shut the door behind him and went over to the window to close it. Very clever, Anya, nice use of misdirection.

Her breath hitched.
 
Twilight pulled out her small desk chair and took a seat. “Could you please come out and talk to me, Anya?”

“You’re going to get rid of me,” she said, her voice muffled and quiet. 

Twilight’s heart creaked. I’m not going to get rid of you. I just want to talk.

There was a small clatter as Anya rolled over under the bed, and one green eye peaked out from under it. “Papa’s lying.” 

Twilight twitched. He wasn’t lying. Was lying even possible inside his head? How would that work? Was it just the words he thought, or the feeling behind them as well? Could he purposefully develop enough cognitive dissonance to partition the truth from-

“Stop,” Anya moaned, sounding like she did right before getting sick. She’d closed her eyes. “Too many big words, too loud.”

Twilight sat forward, his elbows on his knees. Interesting. She was still six, after all. Even if she could read his mind, who was to say how much she actually understood? He didn’t know if that was better or worse.

The world steadied slightly under him. 

She was still Anya. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. Am I often too loud?

“Papa thinks a lot,” Anya grumbled. 

“Can you come out now?” he asked quietly. 

Anya looked up at him. “Are you still mad?” 

“I’m not mad,” he assured her. Had he ever been truly angry with her?

“Papa gets mad when Anya gets tonitrus bolts,” she whispered. “Or doesn’t study.” 

Twilight leaned back. He did often get frustrated with her. That… probably wouldn’t change. “And what happens then? What happens when I get mad?” 

Anya bit her lip. “Papa yells and sometimes falls over,” she said quietly. “Or- or takes away the tv. Or dessert.” 

He thought those were pretty normal punishments. The idea of hitting her was too… it wasn’t what Loid Forger would do.

Anya flinched. 

And, you heard all that. Twilight twisted his lips.  Besides, the promise of cake tended to motivate her more than punishments. 

“Cake?” she asked quietly.

“Come on out, Anya,” he said gently. I’d like to meet you properly. I even brought peanuts.

Slowly, eyes wide and wary, Anya shimmied from under the bed. He tried not to think about how much stuff she’d shoved under there. An empty peanut packet was stuck to her cheek.

We really need to clean this room properly. 

Anya flinched and looked at him guiltily. She pushed all the debris back into the shadows and stood, hands clenched into fists at her sides. 

When he looked at her she tipped her chin up. 

“You could hide better if you didn’t have to share the space with all the junk,” he said mildly. 

Anya looked dubious. “That’s Anya’s stuff.”

Twilight sighed. “We’ll… we’ll talk about it later,” he said. 

“Anya needs her stuff,” she said. 

Mm, really something they had to come back to later. 

Anya glowered at him. “Papa has stuff under his bed,” she said.

Twilight was surprised by his laugh, shortly followed by horror. “You didn’t get into it, did you?” 

His equipment, his weapons, his disguises, his files… delicate, dangerous materials. It all looked like something straight out of Bondman. Anya going through his stuff was… distinctly possible.

Anya looked guilty, but shook her head rapidly. “No! Anya’s been good! Anya knows better!” 

He’d have to check later anyway, and invest in more secure locks.

“Those things are dangerous, Anya,” he said in an undertone. “You can’t- you could get hurt.”

Tears beaded at the corner of her eyes, and her lower lip wobbled. “Anya… Anya knows.” 

That sounded like experience. 

Later, Twilight, later. He took a carefully measured breath and set the packet of peanuts on her desk. He wasn’t sure if this was the appropriate situation for a handshake, but it felt fitting. He stuck out his hand between them. 

Anya, I’d like to formally introduce myself. I am Twilight, a Westalis spy. I hope we can work well together. 

Anya squinted down at his extended hand, and then back up to his face. “No more hugs?” she asked quietly. 

Twilight blinked. “Did you want a hug?” Yor usually took care of the hugging.

Anya looked away. “Papa doesn’t want to,” she said. “Because Papa knows- Papa knows-” her voice tightened and cut off. 

For a mind reader, you’re kind of dense, he thought. Anya glared at him. Something bubbled up inside his chest and he leaned forward and folded her into his arms. She trembled, her arms straight and tight to her side. He put one hand on the back of her head, tucking her into his shoulder.

Just as he’d done so many times before carrying her to bed. At some point, the performance had become natural. It was just something he did for his daughter. 

Anya sniffed into his shoulder. Her breathing became unsteady as she started to cry quietly. Her arms came up to clutch his shirt. 

He hadn’t had time to change into a sweater. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “All this time you’ve been alone, and I never knew how alone. I’m sorry. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Anya gave voice to her sobs, shaking even as she tried to get closer. He stood, picking her up with him so that he could hold her properly. 

She was still small enough for this. 

He rocked her, trying to erase the memory of shift schedules and enrichment activities from the surface of his mind. 

All this time you could hear everything, he thought. All my fears, all the ugly things I’ve had to do… All my plans to use you for the mission, all the imagined consequences of failure.

Anya clutched tighter. “Anya likes Papa’s thoughts,” she said. 

It’s not like Bondman.

“Anya knows,” she said. “Anya helps.” 

You shouldn’t have to. You shouldn’t have to worry about any of this. 

She patted his back. “I want to help.” 

Still, it couldn’t be easy listening to the inner thoughts of a spy. It was-

“It’s better,” Anya whispered, tight to his ear. “Papa is the only one who thinks Anya is any good.” 

What? He was constantly criticizing her, or pushing her for more. After Yor had called him out for pressuring her, he hadn’t stopped, he’d internalized it. Anya would have still been able to hear it. “Anya, Yor doesn’t think-” 

“Yes, Mama loves Anya, but… Anya’s just a cute kid. Someone to protect. Papa thinks Anya can do things, and… Papa always knows what she needs to do.” 

“I never meant them to be instructions-!” Twilight hissed in a strangled voice. You weren’t supposed to hear them, and obey like a little soldi-

“Nobody else knows either,” Anya whispered back. “But all they think, all they ever think, is ‘stop crying’, ‘be quiet’, ‘go away’, ‘sit still you little brat’-!”

Her arms tightened around his neck and a full body shiver went through her. “Oh Anya,” he said quietly. 

She sniffed mightily. “But Papa thinks ‘Papa needs a distraction’ or ‘Papa needs them to believe this lie’ or ‘Anya’s got to get in’,” she said. “And then, and then, even when Papa knows Anya can’t hear, he thinks ‘good job’, ‘clever idea’ and ‘Anya really tried so hard’.”

Twilight’s stomach twisted in time with her sobs. He rocked her slowly, pacing from the window to the door, mind empty of coherent thought. 

“So Anya never wanted Papa to know,” she said softer than a whisper. “Because Anya never wanted it to stop.” 

“It doesn’t need to stop,” he said.

Anya stiffened. 

We can’t talk about everything out loud. Anya, if people knew you were a telepath, it could be very dangerous-

Anya gave a strangled laugh. “Anya knows.” 

Twilight tightened his hold on her until she squeaked. I guess you do. I’m sorry. But I know now, and I’m going to do everything I can to support you.

“You are?” Anya whispered.

Spies don’t work alone. We need help, a lot of help, to stay safe and not go crazy with it. I am going to do that for you. 

Anya was barely breathing. He rubbed a hand up and down her back. 

You shouldn’t have to do this, he thought emphatically. You should just be able to be a kid and let me do the work, but whatever happened to you took away that option. 

He sighed deeply, and Anya copied him. 

You’ve got a big secret, a secret as big as being a spy, and you shouldn’t have to carry that alone. 

So no, you’re not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know if this is the right thing to do, but I think it’s our best option to give you the closest thing to a childhood that I can.

He could make sure she was actually getting rest, and not struggling on her own. He’d make sure she knew how to call for backup, or tap out if a situation got too tense. They’d work out a code she could use in front of others. 

They’d work on her hiding.

“Anya’s going to be a spy?” she whispered with a dangerous amount of glee.

You’re six. 

“I’m Starlight Anya,” she whispered in reverence, and. 

Oh. 

Shit.

How had he never noticed before?

Code names are supposed to be a secret! 

“Papa thinks that the best secrets hide in plain sight,” she giggled.