Chapter Text
Thursday, 18 August 1955 — Twenty-two days into Operation Strix (and unbeknownst to Twilight, a new moon—the first since he adopted his daughter)
"Going on an ooting! An ooting with Papa and Mama!" Anya sung as she skipped along the street, one hand in Twilight's and the other in Yor's.
With the recent news of Anya's successful admission to Eden College, the mood in the Forger household was at an all-time high (not that Yor had any idea "all-time" only referred to three weeks).
Unfortunately, that high mood was doomed to fall shortly.
Eden College, the elite academy it was, had high standards in every way. There was zero chance they would allow Anya to step foot in their school as a student until she was vaccinated against smallpox, pertussis, diphtheria, and polio. Twilight had no idea if or when Anya had received those vaccinations prior to her adoption—the orphanage didn't even have her birthday, let alone medical records—but given the economic state he found her in it was unlikely that she had been given the newly released (and therefore quite pricey) polio vaccine. To be safe, he would be assuming she had zero vaccination history.
On paper, Twilight's mission was simple. Get Anya to the hospital. Get her the required vaccinations. Leave with the paperwork for Eden. Unfortunately, vaccinations meant needles. Needles meant pain. Even with his limited experience around children, Twilight was more than well aware that he was in for an uphill battle today.
"Where we goin', Papa?"
"Two items on the agenda for today. We'll be getting ice cream, but first we need to go to the doctor. A routine checkup, you know?"
Anya stiffened. "The… doctor?"
Yor patted Anya on the top of her head. "It'll be fine. Doctors are nice people. If you're good, I bet Loid will let you have two scoops!"
I didn't say that. But sure. Remember, Twilight—bribery beats intimidation when it comes to children.
"A–Alright," Anya stammered. "Can I get peanuts on top?"
"I don't see why not. Assuming you behave."
Assuming she behaves.
What a naive assumption, Twilight would soon learn.
"NO! NEVER! I WON'T LET YOU! STAY AWAY!"
At the mere sight of the needle in the hand of the nurse—a disguised Nightfall who wouldn't question anything—Anya backed herself against the corner of the examination room.
"What if you let me do it?" Loid reasoned. "I'm a doctor, I can–"
"NO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!"
Anya crouched onto the floor, as if trying to make herself small as she hid her face in her hands.
"Anya!" Twilight yelled. "You need these shots. If you don't, you cannot go to school. Your tantrum won't change that."
"THEN I DON'T WANNA GO TO SCHOOL!" She bellowed, looking up from her hands. Not a single tear graced her face but her pupils were dilated to the extreme. Her eyes darted around the room in a panic.
"Anya," the spy begged. "Please, you–"
"GO AWAY! GET ME OUT OF HERE! I HATE YOU! I WISH YOU WEREN'T MY PAPA!"
Twilight prepared to shout back at the screaming child, but stopped when he felt a gentle hand on his arm. He turned to his right to see his wife on the verge of tears.
Yor crouched down to Anya's level before speaking in a soft tone. "You can do this, Anya. You can have all the ice cream you want, not just today but for a whole week! You just need to–"
She was cut off when Anya suddenly stood up, yelling again. "I DON'T WANT ICE CREAM! I'LL GIVE IT UP FOREVER IF IT MEANS YOU DON'T NEEDLE ME! I–" Anya choked, tears finally spilling for the first time since they arrived. "I'll–" Her voice suddenly sounded so tiny. "I'll g–give up pean–nuts. F–Forever. Just don't– don't let them hurt me. I can't. No needles. Please." She clasped her hands together as she pleaded with Loid. "We need to go home. Pl–please. Please, Papa. I–"
A loud crack caused all three Forgers' heads to spin to the fourth occupant of the room. The clipboard in Nightfall's hands had snapped in two, and her face was burning with poorly concealed rage.
She took a step towards Anya, who stepped back with a whimper.
"You. Girl. Do you have any idea how lucky you are? People die from these diseases. Millions, even billions of people have died throughout history. More people than your puny mind can comprehend. But now we have the power to wipe these diseases from the face of the earth. No one needs to die of smallpox ever again. It's nothing short of a miracle. But now you're spitting in the face of this gift by refusing it, like the ungrateful brat you–"
Before Twilight could reprimand Nightfall for going too far and before Yor could beat the agent to a pulp, Anya took off. With a kick to Nightfall's ankle, Twilight's daughter threw open the door to the examination room and sprinted down the hall.
Before Nightfall could make pursuit, she was stopped by Yor who held her in place with a single hand on her wrist.
"I'll go get her. Yor, you stay here with… her," Twilight told his wife as he shot his fellow agent a look that said "we're talking about this later."
"Anya! I'm sorry!"
Twilight jogged down the hospital corridor, stopping suddenly when he heard sniffling in the janitorial closet on his left.
When he opened the door, he expected to find Anya curled in a ball on the floor. Instead, she was standing up, arms crossed defiantly.
"Papa." A single tear crept down her cheek, which she wiped on her sleeve. "I needed to get you alone." Anya half dragged him into the closet before shutting the door, draping the duo in darkness.
Huh?
"I'm not getting those shots."
"Now I know that what my colleague said wasn't oka–"
"I'm not getting those shots." Anya repeated, her voice unnervingly steady. "If you make me, I'll tell Mama you're a big ole lying liar. I'll tell her that you aren't really my Papa."
Twilight's blood ran cold.
He was, of course, already used to Anya making threats to get her way. Small threats he didn't cave to, like threatening to scream. Big threats he did abide by, like threatening to not go to school once it started.
She'd never gone straight for the nuclear option.
While a small part of him was proud of her blackmail skills, most of Twilight was panicking.
This is bad. Going as far as to risk the stability of her family—risk getting sent back to the orphanage—just to avoid a handful of tiny shots? That is utterly illogical. Is it a trauma response? Why? This is a major problem. A serious threat to Operation Strix. What am I even supposed to do?
"Anya. That's… That is– You can't just–"
"Papa. You and I. We're Forgers."
Twilight didn't follow. "…okay?"
"We gotta live up to the family name. I know you forged my birth sir-tiffy-cat to say I've always been your daughter. You forged the marriage with Mama too."
Getting accused of falsification and forgery by his own daughter in a hospital janitorial closet three weeks into his mission was nowhere in Twilight's endless contingency plans.
"What's stopping you from forging papers to say I've gotten the shots?"
When the family got to their apartment—and Anya had locked herself in her bedroom—Twilight collapsed onto his chair with his head in his hands.
"Why is parenting so hard?"
"I'd say it gets easier as they get older, but that's not really true," Yor chuckled from the kitchen. "How'd you manage to talk her into getting the shots?"
I didn't.
"Pointed out the objective pros and cons. Told her I would give her the shot myself, in private." That's not enough to explain the change in behavior, Twilight! You need to tell a more extreme lie. "…And I reminded her that her mother would still be alive if these vaccines existed even three years ago."
A mug shattered from behind him.
"Your– your first wife? She–"
"Polio," Twilight lied.
Yor didn't ask him to elaborate.
After several minutes of silence, Yor walked into the living room and handed her husband a cup of tea. "I guess Anya and I are pretty similar," she commented solemnly. "My mom might still be here if it weren't for polio."
Twilight felt an unexpected pang of guilt as Yor opened up to him to relate to a lie.
"It didn't kill her, but maybe she would've been able to– outrun the–"
███ didn't need Yor to finish the sentence to understand.
No one in their generation did.
"Here ya go, Twi." Franky slid an envelope over the cigarette stand counter. "Counterfeit vaccination records. You know, I didn't take you for the anti-vaccine type; I thought you trusted the science."
"Blame Anya." Twilight snapped before turning around and beginning to walk away. "I had no choice."
"Sounds to me like she's got her dad wrapped around her finger."
"Shut up!"