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Anya never appeared so miniscule and pitiful in the moment he found her — curled up in herself in a tight ball, just out of arms reach. The little bubbly girl he knew and grew to care for over the several months, since he picked her up from that ‘orphanage,’ tightly gripping onto her bare scraped and bruised flesh like her own life depended on it. Trying her best to protect herself from the possible ramifications of a world that has wronged her. A tearful eye slightly peeked over her shoulder, cautiously watching him.
Twilight felt his heart drop at the sight.
The world – only known as being cruel to her until she finally found refuge in her little found family – swallowed her whole and spit her back out as if she were nothing. She was a victim of war, just like he was. Thrown into the dark side of humanity too young, without any possibility to fight back against what the bastardized facility had planned for her and the accident that was unearthed because of their meddling and experimentations. And it pained him to see her this way, his facial features creased in unease and apprehension.
“Anya…”
She looked as if she were about to break down and cry. Which was something he used to feel repulsed at the sight of, several months prior. He never knew how to deal with children then, and ever since coming across the whirlwind of surprise and wonder that was Anya as his alias Loid Forger, he surely had his struggles on how to take care for the needs of a young child.
Though over time, as he unknowingly and gradually opened his heart to his ‘fake family,’ Twilight eventually reached the point where he couldn’t deny it was ‘for the mission’ anymore. He learned more about the wondrous spectacle that was his daughter, so full of life and curiosity (and always wanting to get him to do ‘papa things’ with her. And he’d always give in to her requests, no matter how baffling and within reason of course). Everything ultimately became and felt natural for him when it came to caring for his family and wound up attached as a result. Anya had him wrapped around his finger since day one if he were fully honest with himself — ever since she desperately clutched to his pant leg and begged him to take her home after her first kidnapping with Edgar and his goons. How could he say no to that?
Who would say no to that?
After Anya’s disappearance, he could finally admit to himself that the Forger Family was more than just an asset for his mission. His mind kept him denial for the longest time, while his heart betrayed him and ‘compromised him,’ giving into that longing for a real family that he lost so many years ago.
He’d be lying if he said he had any regrets.
“Anya, it’s okay.” He reached out to her, growing desperate as the time passed and she didn’t respond to his gestures. The retrieval of his daughter would not be complete until he had her safely in his arms. He had to get her out of here. At any cost. “We’ve come to take you home. No one here can hurt you anymore.”
And he made sure of that. He made sure to wipe out any possible perpetrators involved in this heinous scientific charade. If he missed any, he was confident Yor, or more specifically ‘Thorn Princess,’ would clean up any stragglers.
A tear ran down her face as Anya shrunk even deeper into herself, slightly trembling. Her soft cries came out muffled and choked, as if she were afraid to express herself.
Why wasn’t she coming over to him? He was used to her energetic and cheerful behavior, especially when she was around him or Yor, but for some reason she still appeared fearful. Fearful of him.
His heart sank deeper, if that were even possible.
Why? Why did she appear so petrified of him?
“Are you going to give Anya away?”
Twilight’s eyes briefly widened in surprise before softening, concern clearly etching across his face.
“Now…why do you think that way, Anya? Why would you think I would give you away?”
It pained him to hear a child of her age being aware and asking a question such as this. He always knew she was smart in her own ways and appeared wiser than her years for her age, but until now he never was aware of the reasoning for why. She never deserved the trauma and suffering she endured because of the tensions and affairs between two hostile countries.
Despite it all, he wished he were able to go back to prevent the experiments and treatment she endured, knowing it all now.
Anya clutched at herself tighter, averting her papa’s eyes. There were times she wished she were a normal girl and wasn’t chained to this fate of accidentally becoming a telepath. Treated like a test subject for the sake of what the government wanted. Even after managing to escape her prison the facility, finding someone who would want to take care of her was another challenge for someone who didn’t even know how the world worked as a 4/5-year-old.
Anya was so used to being considered ‘creepy’ and ‘strange,’ then passed on to the next family. Rinse and repeat. Name changes, poor treatment from adoptees/fosterers, and so forth. The moment has finally come forth that would determine if she had to be sent off to yet another family — whenever that would happen. She wasn’t currently able to read her papa’s mind during an eclipsing, so having to read his facial expressions and body language was more difficult for her to manage and immensely intimidating.
“The papas and mamas from before gave Anya away because she was a freak…because of her powers.” She responded hesitantly and glanced back, emerald eyes watching him on high alert like a kicked animal that was afraid of more repercussion. “There were many times Anya wanted to and tried to help you out with your spy missions but couldn’t tell you because she didn’t want you to find out she could read minds.”
A hiccup escaped her lips, as she continued to try her hardest to hold back her sobs. Anya furiously rubbed at her eyes as tears ran down her reddened cheeks.
“But Anya wanted to help papa out with his missions, even if he found it creepy that she could read his mind and wanted to take her back to the orphanage.”
Inhale.
Exhale.
Again, the world was truly barbaric to his daughter, and he damned it all for it gifting her this cruel mentality. It may have spat at him in his youth, as he trudged through it like a rat in the sewers alone for several years but got into his line of work to try and prevent cases such as this. It made his stomach churn in unease, wishing he were able to find this all out sooner in hopes Anya would’ve had a better life. Though if he were honest with himself, if it weren’t for everything that he endured afterwards for the sake of preventing more loss like he experienced as a child – the endless work he poured into being a spy and his missions because of this war – he never would’ve been able to find a family again. If it weren’t for Anya (who basically adopted him, not him adopting her), a different outcome would’ve resulted for him.
The four of them were all brought together for a reason, he now likes to think. The idea of having to leave this makeshift family behind after Operation Strix and the threat of the current cold war between Westalis and Ostania settles bothers him way too much. Having to go back to an empty apartment to await the next mission he’d have to embark on appears way too unreasonable to him now. He’s gotten way too used to the feeling of being greeted by welcoming faces when he came back ‘home.’ The ‘home’ that started out as just a temporary base to assess his needs like eating and resting with some strangers but ended up developing into something much more meaningful to him. The errands he used to consider a chore for the ‘sake of the mission’ became necessity in his daily routine –
Eating breakfast with all the Forgers together and then taking Anya to the bus stop every morning, Yor’s words of encouragement before they parted ways for their cover jobs, walking Bond every afternoon (sometimes as a whole family with some fun trips to the local dog park), taking turns grocery shopping with Yor and trying their best to reunite together for dinner later on in the evening (if there wasn’t any surprise jobs to take on from Handler, or vice versa with Yor), and other tasks and minor trips together as family.
After all they’ve been through and growing together as a family – a forged one turning authentic – he could never give that up now.
Not if he had anything to say about it.
“Anya…I would never take you back. After everything we’ve all been through together, no matter what — you’re my daughter – and I’d never abandon you. Powers or not.”
She knew his identity all along – ever since the beginning. Even when he picked her out of all the other children at the orphanage.
All along she knew what he had been thinking throughout Operation Strix. All the times he thought about bringing her back after the operation was over, that this was “all for the sake of the mission,” and nothing else. Twilight didn’t even want to conceptualize all the possible things he could’ve contemplated in his mind that Anya picked up on. It’s no wonder he thought she was so perceptive – she knew everything. And the more he pondered on it, the more all his concerns made sense regarding some of his additional missions, and how things just happened to fall into place whenever she was involved. How easily the ‘secure a wife’ problems were magically resolved with Yor in the beginning of the mission, Anya’s envelopment with the group of terrorists from Berlint University, being able to have the first direct contact with Operation Strix’s target – Donovan Desmond – due to Anya’s influence on Damian, how things just fell into place for him during the cruise, her involvement with the Red Circus hijacking, and there most likely were other missions he couldn’t think of off the top of his head.
Despite all that, she remained ‘blindly compliant’ (besides her trying to get out of studying at times) towards him being a spy and basically using her for the sake of his mission for peace between Westalis and Ostania, even though she was a victim of the conflicts herself. All the memories flooded back to him over how much she catered to his mission, all in hopes she’d be able to stay with him, with the Forgers for as long as possible. She’d been given up way too many times before, and he couldn’t blame her for doing whatever she could within her power to keep the operation going.
Ah.
That’s right.
He would’ve gotten way more pushback if he happened to not pick Anya from all the children back in the orphanage. Would the others have been that amenable? Whatever the result, it didn’t matter to Twilight either way. Powers or not, she was a part of his family, and what mattered most to him now was securing Anya, and taking her back home, their home, alongside Yor.
They all belonged together, in their little apartment they all called home on 128 Park Avenue, in West Berlint. He was so sure of it.
“You’re Anya Forger,” he affirmed softly to Anya, and her tired emerald eyes curiously peek out above her crossed arms and watched him again. Her eyes briefly gleamed with a brimming hope. “Your favorite food are peanuts. You love Bondman and his silenced pistol, and what you’d want right now isn’t world peace by helping your clueless papa out, but a family who’ll love you for who you are and take care of you.”
He thought back to first few weeks of having Anya around and starting to learn some of her quirks and interests. Especially the night after learning she was accepted into the prestigious private school of Eden Academy for Operation Strix. Franky and Anya got together and created some questions and answers for him to cycle through at the castle. He felt an unfamiliar sensation when Franky called him out for not knowing much about his daughter.
He couldn’t identify the feeling at the time, but now he can recognize it as envy.
He felt envious at rare times throughout his lonely existence after the war, but it wasn’t until he found a genuine family life that he truly longed for it, deep down. It took some time and some pushing, but he admitted it to himself eventually.
He couldn’t live without them.
Couldn’t live without the nights she’d secretly slip into his (or Yor’s) room to sleep after a nightmare, all the bouts of excitement from his daughter over every outing they took together as a family, every milestone she hit with her assignments and grades (especially her improvement with classical language), each stella she earned at Eden and the pride he’d feel when she’d helped someone or did something brave (which at times scared the daylights out of him), all the times they’d spend quality time as a family by watching her favorite cartoons with her, and so much more. He found himself yearning more and more for a normal family life, and it got to the point where the idea of it being stripped away petrified him.
“And you’ve surely accomplished that. No matter what happens, you’re our daughter, and we would love to continue to take care of you.”
He opened his arms out to her, affirmation written across his face – narrowing his eyes softly as he internally pleaded with Anya to reach out to him.
And she does.
He’s sure to never let her go the moment she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and buried herself into her papa. He held her as tightly as he could, while she sobbed into his shoulder.
She was his daughter, and he’d never let go of what he cherished so deeply.