Chapter Text
Waves of pain pulsed throughout his body as he climbed the steps to their home. At the top step, he discreetly scanned his surroundings one final time that evening as best as night vision would allow, his darting eyes cast in shadow by the brim of his hat. Aside from the two lights on either side of their home’s entrance, their neighborhood was mostly cloaked in darkness The dim lampposts afforded only weak pools of illumination along the quiet streets. No tail as far as I can see, the man known as Twilight thought to himself. He checked his Submariner for the time and instantly regretted it as his bruised shoulder protested the sudden movement. Soft body armor, discarded mere moments ago, protected him from lethal wounds but the bullet impacts still hurt like hell. It was ten minutes before midnight. He looked worse for wear as he made his way across the hallways leading to their home, but at least he did not have to greet their neighbors.
As he fumbled for the keys and started to open their front door, he mustered his remaining energy to don the mask of Loid Forger once more, even if the inhabitants of the household were most likely asleep by that hour. He locked the door behind him, and with great difficulty removed his coat and boots. He allowed thoughts of his other life to fade into the background, and willed the persona of a family man into the surface. Loid Forger had little choice but to endure the same physical pain that Twilight did.
His concentration was momentarily thrown off by the image of Yor Forger sleeping on the couch. There was an empty mug on the table in front of her that vaguely smelled of coffee.
Yor was seated upright, but her head was angled to one side at an uncomfortable looking angle. A pillow and blanket were folded neatly next to her, but she must have fallen asleep before she could use them. He failed to suppress a concerned frown. Was she waiting for me? I told them I’d be home late and not to bother staying up. Loid quietly switched off their living room television. Before he could decide to leave her undisturbed or surreptitiously carry her to her room, she started to wake up as if sensing his presence.
“Loid?” she tried to rub sleep off her eyes. “Welcome home. Have you… have you had something to eat?”
“Yes, I had an early dinner, don’t worry,” he did not, but she did not need to know that. “Yor, we talked about this earlier. Don’t wait up for me next time, alright?” His voice was not annoyed, but he did not want his pretend wife to inconvenience herself for his sake. Not any more than what was needed to maintain their cover.
She beamed at him despite sleep-lidded eyes, “I was gonna stay up in case… in case you wanted to eat something. I cooked stew tonight, and Anya said it wasn’t awful! I saved some for you if you’re hungry.” She failed to suppress a yawn.
He smiled genuinely for the first time that day. “Maybe tomorrow, Yor. Just a little tired now. I… appreciate you waiting for me tonight, though I’d still prefer that you get enough sleep.”
“It’s nothing really,” her bleary eyes drifted to the right side of his abdomen. “Wait, Loid. Are you bleeding?”
Loid Forger nearly swore, but Twilight caught his tongue at the last millisecond. With his coat off, only then did he notice the small pool of blood soiling his plain white shirt. That explains the rip in the armor earlier. In his haste to exfiltrate that day’s mission area, Twilight had no time to properly patch himself up, and now Loid paid the price. His usual vest and tie were missing as well. He was going to launch his rehearsed verbal template for more concerning looking injuries when Yor practically leapt to his side, gently catching his hand and leading them to their bathroom. He noticed that any lingering traces of sleep vanished in her eyes.
“Yor, listen. It’s not as bad as it looks. You don’t need—”
“You can’t go to bed like that. If it’s serious, we’re going to the hospital.” She opened the bathroom door silently and groped for the light switch. Her voice was soothing as usual, but a note of command was palpable as well. She eased him down on their bench and then grabbed a first aid pack from one of their shelves. She sat down beside him and placed the pack between them.
“May I?” she asked him quietly. “Only if this is okay with you, of course.”
Loid managed a tired smile. “I’m all yours then, Mrs. Forger.”
She popped his shirt open effortlessly, secretly to Loid’s amusement. The shirt buttons clattered on the tile floor. With blood staining the shirt, she was probably thinking of discarding the article of clothing anyway. Yor dropped her husband’s dress shirt to the floor. She gasped for a moment, then got back to work in the next breath. She undid the sloppily applied bandage around his torso, fresh blood dripping from the cloth. There was a clean slash wound on his side, making a small arc between his belly and his right breast. Not too long, but Twilight was not sure how deep it went. He was lucky to deal with only one gunman earlier that day, but a few of the goons had knives.
She started to reach for the detachable showerhead, “You’re gonna need stitches, but let me clean this first.”
“I can do that myself, Yor. Just help me later with the—”
“Sit still, please.” She switched on the showerhead and started washing away blood from the wound site. Water started to drench his trousers and wet their floor, but Loid did not mind. Her fingers were gentle as she applied mild soap around the cut, tending to him as if he could break at any second. Part of him wanted to tell her that he endured far worse, that tonight’s side op was far from the closest one to doing him in. But for the sake of his most important mission yet, Twilight kept silent and so did Loid. The more time he spent with her and the more he saw her smiles, the heavier his deceptions felt on his shoulders, on top of the physical pains he felt that moment.
She reached for their antiseptic bottle next, “This is going to sting a bit, so bear with me, okay?”
He nodded, and she got to work. He did not flinch nor make a sound as she applied the fluid. Twilight briefly thought of acting stung to better portray the role of Loid Forger, but he was tired of acting that night. He did the same mechanical act hundreds of times in his career that the brief bite of pain was more like an old friend than an unwelcome guest. Yor soon began stitching, and Twilight’s keen eye noted that she approached the task with perfection. There was no moment of hesitation or wasted movement as she worked on closing his wound. Yor’s usual nervous demeanor as she studied a new recipe or tried to explain arithmetic to Anya was nowhere to be found here. She wrapped up her work with an appropriately sized gauze pad and some medical tape. She dabbed the excess water on him with a towel.
“There! All done,” her mask of concentration evaporated, surprising even Twilight. “Not much I can do about your bruises, but I suppose we can ice them for the next couple of days. I’m sure there’s probably someone at your workplace who can do a better job with this than I just did, so let’s take care of that tomorrow. This is the worst of it, right? Not hiding anything else from me?”
He did not expect her last question, but he recovered quickly. “No, everything else is fine. I’m not hurt anywhere else aside from what you tended to. And I can get changed on my own. Thank you, Yor. You did a wonderful job.”
She looked away from him as she replaced everything on the shelves, “Welcome! It’s the least I could do. I’ll have this mess cleaned up by the time you wake up tomorrow.” She was about to exit the bathroom when Twilight noticed hesitation in her gait.
“Is anything the matter, Yor?”
She looked in his direction but did not turn to face him directly, “I… I just wish you’d take better care of yourself. I don’t like seeing you get hurt and I don’t want Anya to see you like this. Of course I won’t pry if you’d rather not say how you got hurt! But…”
“Yor,” he stood up and closed the distance between them, surprising her a bit. He gingerly held her arm, as if picking up a frightened cat that could flee at any moment.
“I understand your concerns, and I’ll do my best not to let this happen again. It was just a little mishap at work, and I’ll tell you the specific details tomorrow. But for now…”
“For now?” she slowly leaned closer into him, a ghost of a smile beginning to form on her face. She was gently embracing him now, taking extra care to keep her hands away from his injury and his other bruises.
“Now I’d like to ask my wife if this is okay.” It was not their first time to hold each other closely while their daughter was asleep or staying over at Becky’s, but Loid Forger never failed to ask her every time anyway.
She nodded almost imperceptibly, her forehead pressed against his, “Always.”
That night, Loid could still taste the brewed coffee in Yor’s mouth she must have had only hours ago. He instinctively angled his head to capture her more fully. Even as his heart rate steadily went up from the soft noises she made, it still took a while to shut down the analytical aspect of his brain. It saved his life countless times, but it could be annoying on some occasions as well, such as the present. As his tongue grazed hers, force of habit kicked in. This is stronger than what I usually brew in the morning. Must be two teaspoons at least. That’s more than enough to keep me going throughout the day. And she still managed to doze off? This can’t be good for her.
His fingers traced her favorite red sweater. Wool, for the most part at least. There’s probably a small percentage of cotton in there somewhere. The slight amount of fraying, only noticeable up close really, suggests it’s a few years old, but the excellent overall condition can only mean she takes good care of it. The minimal amount of wear and tear is impressive considering she appears to wear it often. The backless feature is a curious design choice though, clearly leaning more towards form rather than function. His train of thought halted when he cupped the small of her back, her exposed skin slightly cold to the touch. He recalled that the bathroom was not a particularly well insulated part of the house. He made a mental note to have that fixed in the future. She noticed his hesitation.
“What’s wrong?” Yor asked him, eyes still closed from their shared reverie.
“You’re a bit cold, Yor.”
“Cold? Just a little, I guess. But hey, I’m not the one without a shirt on. Get you a fresh change?”
The image of her shirtless nearly short-circuited his brain. “No, I’m fine. I’ll get changed later.” Cold endurance was part of the training of all WISE agents. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. My room or yours?”
“Y-yours,” she hid her face at the crook of his neck. “If you don’t mind. My room’s a bit of a mess right now.”
He led her to his room across the hall, both of their footsteps dead silent so as not to wake their daughter. Neither of them questioned how the other moved extremely quietly, both of them still high on the taste of one another. As they entered his room and Loid locked the outside world behind them, he wasted no time coming back to her. Loid went for her lips, the corner of her mouth, the edge of her keen jaw, then settled for the pulse point on her neck. She giggled into his ear. He learned from their prior operations that her neck tickled rather easily. Perhaps on account of his injuries, she embraced him less aggressively than usual, but Loid still sensed the urgency in her touches.
This was recently chartered territory for them in the course of their pretend marriage, and neither parent was willing to acknowledge that their trysts were not necessary to maintaining the cover of the Forger family (if anything, distant alarm bells in Twilight’s head warned of expanding the Forger family even though they never went that far yet, potentially complicating his true mission). He was blind to the way she effortlessly neutralized every single one of his weapons and how she rendered his years of training useless once they were alone. In return, she thought he was going to be the death of her. Of all the bullets, blades, and explosives that came close to killing her, only the man she held and cherished at that moment could stop her heart if he wanted.
“Ahh. Y-you’re not playing fair, Loid,” she breathed messily in his ear.
He paused his attack on her collarbone ignoring how her voice caused shockwaves in his core, suddenly concerned. “I’m sorry. Should I stop?”
“No!” she blurted out too eagerly, and a deeper hue of red started to color her face. “It’s… it’s too good, I guess?”
Oh, Twilight thought to himself. Oh shit.
“But I don’t know if I’m doing any of this right. What if I hurt you or some—”
He kissed her chastely, momentarily surprising her. “You are doing just fine, Yor. And I don’t mean just… this right now. I know that you could never hurt me. Or Anya. To say that the two of us are lucky to have found you doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’m glad I married you, Yoru.” He echoed her words on the day he doubted her character after Yuri Briar’s first visit to their home. Twilight still had not forgiven himself for once planting a listening device on the woman he grew to hold dear.
She melted in the injured man’s embrace, not quite trusting herself to find the right words. At that point, guilt began to wrestle with the fondness and protectiveness she felt for her new family. She had to tell him her secret, instead of going on pretending to be the virtuous woman he thought she was. There was no question that she would catch a bullet for her husband and daughter, but it was her other life that could end up setting the hounds on her family in the first place. Suddenly, she felt afraid of holding him, as if the lightest of her touches could end up killing him. She eased them down onto his bed, hyper aware of his injuries.
“It’s late, darling,” she whispered in his ear, her hand tentatively tracing his scalp. “Get some rest, Loid.”
“Stay with me tonight?” he muttered with a mischievous smile.
“I won’t wake up in time, and we’d never hear the end of it from Anya,” she allowed herself a sincere smile. She kissed him again briefly, keeping her tongue to herself this time. “Good night.”
“Good night, Yoru.” He released her, vaguely making out her outline in the dark as she left his room hurriedly. He would never mention it out loud, but he already missed her warmth.
Yor awoke to her heart racing in her chest, beads of sweat running down her brow and stinging her eyes. To her relief, the details of the nightmare faded quickly and she anchored herself in the present. Her legs were cold, and her head was missing the presence of a pillow that was usually there. She then remembered leaving her pillow and blanket in the living room as she waited for Loid. I have to check up on him, she urgently thought to herself. She rolled over to her side and reached for the Tank on her bedside table, a gift from her brother not too long ago and the only timepiece she owned. It was just past five in the morning.
Not planning on going back to sleep, she went about her usual morning routine a little earlier than usual. She cleaned their bathroom, showered, got dressed for the day, and waited for the other members of the Forger household to wake up. As she prepared tea for herself in the kitchen, the phone in the living room rang. If it was one of Loid’s patients or associates, it seemed that they could not wait until working hours. Yor picked up the phone.
“Forger household. This is Yor.”
“Meet us at the usual place and time today,” Yor instantly recognized the baritone voice. “Be certain you are not followed, and don’t keep us waiting.”
The line went dead, and only after replacing the receiver did Yor notice a slight tremor in her hands. She felt a flash of fear, and it was gone as quickly as it came. The Shopkeeper had assigned her hundreds of missions in the past, and not once did she feel a pang of fear in the moments leading up to the hunt. So what was different now?
“G’morning, Mama.” A small figure emerged around the corner. Anya was rubbing her eyes, not quite fully awake yet.
“Good morning sweetie,” her thoughts quickly went to her daughter and the phone call was briefly forgotten. “Let’s get you ready for school, yeah? I’ll make you pancakes today!” She was already confident in her abilities to make those at least.
Anya’s face lit up a little, then shifted to one of concern, “Mama, are you okay?”
The unsettling flash of fear pulsed through her again, but she kept her face composed for Anya. “Course I am, honey. Just some things at work I need to take care of later, but nothing that should worry you. C’mon! Let’s prepare breakfast together.”
The rest of the morning proceeded uneventfully, but as they ate breakfast Yor grew more concerned for her husband. In the span of months they spent together, Loid was usually the first to wake in their household and he never missed their breakfasts together. She never had to knock on his door before. Maybe his injuries were more serious than I thought? Maybe she should have just carried him to the hospital at full sprint? It would not have been too difficult and Loid’s hospital was not too far away. She once had to rescue a two-hundred pound hostage and carry him 20 stories up to the helipad without taking a break. She only noticed then that her daughter was staring at her, mouth open. Yor gently pushed Anya’s chin up.
“Sweetie, it’s not proper to do that. If you’re done eating, let’s get dressed! Your bus will be here soon. I’ll just leave some food for Papa.”
As they were about to leave the house, Yor hesitated. Should she check up on him now? What if he could not get out of bed on his own?
“Mama, I think Papa’s still asleep,” the little girl tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “Can we go now?”
“You’re probably right, sweetie. I’ll just check up on him before I leave. Let’s go then! I think your bus is outside already.”
Unbeknown to Yor, Loid was already awake but Anya sensed turmoil in her father’s mind all the way from across their little home. Anya could not make out nor understand the precise details, but she felt the weight her father carried and the dizzying speed at which his brain operated. She did not want her mother to catch her father in such a state before he was ready. Something felt off about her mother as well that morning, but she could not quite put her finger on it. School activities that day would soon take the girl’s full attention and the details of that unusual morning would fade in the background.
As Yor returned to their house a few moments later, her thoughts began to drift back to the call earlier. Nothing concrete confirmed her fears, but she had an ill feeling about her upcoming contract. Her heart began to beat faster again. I’m probably just overthinking this. She found Loid at their table nursing a large mug of coffee.
“Good morning, Yor. Thank you for helping Anya this morning.”
“Loid! Good morning,” she hastily took a seat next to him, forcing herself to project a calm demeanor. “How are you feeling? Should I call a cab to the hospital?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m feeling much better now thanks to you. Yor, about last night, I’m sorry if I worried you. I was dealing with a rather difficult patient yesterday. He had an episode and I suddenly had a mess on my hands. He also had a bladed multitool that I saw too late. But we were able to safely restrain him before anyone else could get hurt. I will take more precautions in the future.
“The majority of my patients are not like the case yesterday though, so don’t worry. I promise that you won’t have to patch me up every night.” He smiled at the last thought for her sake, but he did not have to pretend for that one.
“Okay then. I’m glad to hear that, Loid,” she looked away from him, fiddling with the tips of her gloves. “And I’m sorry, but I need to leave for work soon. You sure you’ll be okay here?”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t let me keep you. I’ll call in late for work, but I think they’ll understand. I promise to be home for dinner tonight, Yoru.”
She still wanted to rush him to the hospital, but Yor decided to trust her husband’s judgment. She rose from her chair, kissing his forehead as she stood up. He sneakily captured her lips for a moment, getting a chuckle out of her. She relished his touch for a while.
“I’ll hold you to that. It’s… easier when you’re home, Loid. Might be a little late tonight, but I’ll try to get home as early as I can. I’ll see you later then.” She smiled at him before heading out their door, leaving Loid alone with his thoughts.
“I trust that no one knows you’re here, Thorn Princess?”
Yor was seated on one of the benches of the Shopkeeper’s dwelling place. It was fifteen minutes past nine in the evening. Little had changed since her last visit. Greenery was the canvas that predominated the expanse of the garden, punctuated by the brilliant hues of roses, orchids, bougainvilleas, and dozens of other flowers that Yor did not recognize. Despite the mesmerizing mixture of colors and forms, every component of the garden harmonized impeccably, and every placement was deliberate. Weeds were nonexistent. There was a time when she was infatuated with the sheer beauty of the Shopkeeper’s abode, but strangely, a part of her was now unsettled by the spotless perfection of her surroundings. She brought back her thoughts to the man sitting across from her.
“Yes, Shopkeeper. As far as I could tell, no one followed me.”
“As far as you could tell?”
She fought the urge to gulp. “I’m sure that no one followed me.”
“Good. Onto business then. A nameless rival organization has killed a few of our members these past few weeks. Your mission is to infiltrate their hideout, locate their leader, and eliminate him. With the head of the snake gone, the body is useless.”
“Understood, Sir.”
The Shopkeeper handed her a brown folder with several papers inside it.
“This contains the details of your assignment, but it is not complete. We only know the target’s face, but not his real name. He goes by several nom de guerres, all of which are noted there. Location and time of their meeting—also there. Memorize the available details before you leave. Entrances and exits, number of guards, law enforcement presence in the area, potential sniper spots—you’ll have to ascertain all of those by yourself. This is a high-risk contract, so I can only send my finest soldier.”
“I’ll do my best, Sir,” she muttered absentmindedly as she scanned the file. Her eyes widened slightly at one page.
“Are there any questions, Thorn Princess?”
“It’s just that the mission date coincides with my daughter’s birthday, but that won’t be a problem. This mission will have my full attention.”
“And I will expect nothing less. Ah, yes. Your smokescreen of a make-believe family. I trust you will take care of things on that end? And also your more socially acceptable occupation on the other side of the fence?”
She did not like the comment about her family, but she kept her thoughts secret. “Of course, Shopkeeper. Surveillance and reconnaissance will take me a few days, but I’ll be sure to convince them. I’m finished with our available intel, thank you.”
“Excellent. One final matter. I have a personal request to make, Thorn Princess.”
The Shopkeeper offered her a single rose, its stem cut short and thorns painstakingly and deliberately removed. It was compact enough to fit in a large coat pocket. The fragrance still filled Yor’s sinuses, but a petal or two had fallen already. Yor surmised that chemicals may have been applied to extend the flower’s life.
“We don’t usually do this, but I want you to leave this on the corpse of the target. As for how, I leave that up to you. Make it clear to see for when his men find him.”
“Consider it done, Sir. If I may ask a final question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Are we certain that this organization does not have knowledge of our members’ civilian lives?”
“You’re asking if they have anything on you that will lead back to the Forgers? Well, as far as I can tell, no. The families of our fallen are still alive, last I checked. And none of these families know that we exist. So you can rest easy on that matter, Thorn Princess. Every hit we took was clean, precise. We found no evidence of torture or interrogation. We cannot afford to lose you too, Princess.”
“Understood, Sir. It would be… inconvenient if I had to find a new smokescreen as you say.”
The Shopkeeper grinned, “If there’s nothing more, that will be all then. Avenge our comrades. Goodbye, Thorn Princess.”
Outside the Shopkeeper’s building, the Thorn Princess heightened her situational awareness. She could be attacked at any time. From the files the Shopkeeper shared with her, not even broad daylight or crowded places were a deterrent against assassination. This could be the most dangerous organization the Garden has faced to date, she gravely thought to herself. But for now, she needed to prepare herself for the upcoming mission, both logistically and mentally. Regardless of what the Shopkeeper told her earlier about her family being in the clear, she had to take extra precautions this time. I’m sorry Loid, Anya.
She walked to the public phone on the other end of the block. Calling them would be a risk, but she needed to inform Loid of her absence. The dim streetlamps casted few shadows in her surroundings and despite her training, the primitive part of her brain suggested enemy combatants hiding behind every corner, every blind spot. The Thorn Princess took a moment to steel herself against excess paranoia. She checked the time on her Cartier. Twenty minutes before ten in the evening.
She reached for the phone and dialed home. Loid picked up after a few seconds.
“Forger residence. Who is this?”
The sound of his masculine voice made her feel a little safer. Focus, Yor!
“Hi Loid! It’s me. I’m sorry I missed tonight’s dinner. Just got a little held up at work.” At least that was not entirely untrue.
“Yor? It’s fine. Are you on your way home now? Do I need to pick you up?”
Her heart sank a little. She already planned what to say before the call, but actually telling her family was a different matter altogether.
“That’s the thing. Loid, listen. I’ll be going away for a few days because of work. Starting tonight. I’ve been put on a… special assignment that requires coordinating with the other city halls in the country. I’m so sorry to put this on you right now.” She also told him the date she expected to be finished with the assignment. The date of Anya’s birthday hung heavily on both parents’ minds, but neither of them had the heart to mention it.
The other end of the line was silent for a while.
“Loid? Loid, please tell me you’re still there.”
“I am. This is just a little sudden. Should I bring your things to you? Just tell me what to pack.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just buy everything I need along the way,” she knew prolonging the call increased the chance of someone listening in, but she did not want to hang up yet. “Loid, I… I know it’s presumptuous of me to say this but please take good care of Anya for me. I may not be her real mother, but she means the world to me.” And so do you.
“Yoru, she is your daughter as much as she is mine. She’s asleep now, but I’ll tell her you said that. I’ll take care of things until you come back.”
Yor Forger fought back tears. She hoped her voice sounded steady as she prepared to end the call.
“M-my train will be here soon. I’ll have to go in a bit, Loid.”
“Yor, if there’s anything troubling you, you know you can tell me, right? We’re a team. And we’ve been doing well so far because of you.”
“I know that, Loid.” Darling, if only I could tell you. But I can’t bring you to my world. If I make it back, I promise to tell you everything. “Goodbye, Loid. I’ll see you around.”
“Yor, wait—” the Thorn Princess ended the call. Her tears flowed freely then, and she did not care if anyone saw her.