Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[May, 1961]

“Is it stable enough?”

The stocky man in a long lab coat adjusted his glasses. He spared a cursory glance at his nervous colleague. “Reasonably. Extraction should proceed smoothly as well.”

“But is that good enough? Are we absolutely sure it will not interfere with the present?”

“For the last time, Williams. We're dealing with a different branch of space-time. A few more tests will be enough to generate a decent sample size before we attempt to manipulate our own past. No one’s past or present in this timeline will change in the slightest unless- eh. It wouldn’t happen. Now go get the girl here.”

“But she barely speaks,” Dr. Williams muttered. “How would she even report anything she sees or does?”

“We have ways to make her talk. Go.”

He cowered and scurried away. His footsteps rang loud through the empty, sterile-white corridors as he navigated through them, balling up his fists in determination when the out of place, decrepit looking door came into view. It hung open on a broken hinge as it had for a year now, a hole caved into the spot below the doorknob where the keyhole for a lock should have been. The soft, high-pitched mumbles of a child floated out of the room.

Williams raised a hand to knock, but a single rap of his knuckles against the wood pushed the door wider open. He grimaced and stepped inside.

A tiny squeak to his left drew his attention. He turned toward the sound, pressing his mouth into a thin line when he saw two large, green eyes staring up at him.

“You found that blasted toy again,” he folded his arms. “Did you finish your homework?”

“Y-yes,” the child mumbled. 

“No, you didn’t.” He pointed at the opposite corner of a room, where an open notebook with a pencil and a few loose sheets of paper with copious amounts of typed writing on them lay in the exact position he had left them an hour ago. “Why do you even try to lie?”

She curled in on her tiny self, trying to hide her face behind her arms. “D-don’t- please don’t!”

“I’m not going to hit you,” Dr. Williams rolled his eyes.

She lowered her little arms, peeking out at him. He grimaced again.

“Come with me. You need to get to work.”

“No!” She scrambled and kicked her feet out in front of her until her back hit the wall. “N-no work!”

“You have a responsibility,” he reached out and lifted her into the air by the scruff of her neck. He turned his face away when she screamed, waiting until her tiny kicks and punches fizzled out into momentary fatigue. 

He set her on the ground and grabbed her by a wrist. “Come on. The sooner we’re done, the sooner I can eat,” he walked off.

“H-hungry,” she sniffled.

He groaned. “Here,” he slipped a protein bar out of his pocket, ripped it open with his teeth, and dangled it in front of her face. “Use your other hand.”

She snatched the bar and started to nibble at it. Dr. Williams sighed and led her along, heading back to the special room and swiping his ID at the door before they entered.

“Ah, good, you managed,” the other man noted. He put down his clipboard. “007, are you listening to me?”

The girl flinched and looked up, nibbling at her protein bar a little faster.

“Good. Now, today you’re going to help us in a different way,” he said, icy blue eyes pinning her with their gaze. He pointed at a small circle mark on the ground surrounded by equipment, then held up a small, white band. “You will wear this around your wrist, stand in this spot and stay very still. It will take you to a different place than here, but you must not panic. None of us will be around you, but we will bring you back in a while and you need to tell us everything you saw and did while you were away. Listen to what the people around you think and remember it so you can tell us all of it when we bring you back.”

She glanced at the protein bar in her hand, and suddenly it seemed to be more than food - she slowed in her nibbling, trying to make it last. The later she finished, the longer the scary man would wait before—

“You’ll get to eat when we do,” he snatched the bar out of her hands and slipped it into his pocket after wrapping it shut. Ignoring her screams, he gestured for her to be placed in her position on the small platform.

“Come on now,” Dr. Williams tugged at her arm. She yanked and pulled, screeching in protest, yet his grip never budged.

“This isn’t going to hurt you,” he snapped and lifted her by her arms to lower her over the circle. “Stay still. I will hold you down if I need to.”

She flinched from his hands, crossing her little arms over her chest and gripping her own shoulders tight. 

“Good girl,” the first man said. He snapped a curved piece of plastic over her wrist. “Don’t try to pull that band off or it will bring you right back. We will force you to study until we try this again tomorrow.”

She stood as still as she could despite her trembling little limbs, and shut her eyes when she was told to as the two exchanged notes and performed their final checks.

“On three,” she heard one of them call, and then the world disappeared into silence.

-

[May, 1945]

Dust and smoke tickled her nose, and when she opened her eyes, small bits of debris blew away before her in the wind.

She found herself lying on the ground. Quickly pushing herself to her feet, she noticed a small, green light flashing on her wristband. She brought her hand to try to pull the band off, but the other scientist’s words haunted her and she stopped short.

The little girl looked around, clutching her old dress in her hands.

Small houses and old buildings - rather, the broken arrangements of brick that were left of them - dotted the area before her. The street lay covered with shards, torn bags of sand, branches of nearby trees burnt black as charcoal, and parts of vehicles and walls that had caved in and fallen. Somewhere in the distance, smoke billowed from a fire that coughed and sputtered on its last legs, consuming a pile of something she could not recognize.

She took small, careful steps ahead, wrapping her arms around herself. Voices from the lab filled her memory, and she pushed them away with a firm shake of her little head. A strange silence shrouded the area - when she grew curious enough to try to listen for a voice or a thought, she heard nothing.

Tiny feet made their careful way to the outer wall of one of the houses, her hands jutting out at her sides to keep her balance so that nothing disturbed the band on her wrist. She lowered herself to the rubble, pushing it around with her bare hands to create a little pit for herself to sit in, and curled up with her back to the wall. 

She tucked her face into her arms folded over her knees and closed her eyes. Despite the destruction, her little nook proved itself to be a safer resting spot than her room in the lab, and she shuddered in some relief even though she wished she had held onto Mr. Chimera when the nicer doctor had arrived to get her.

The distant humming in the air fell away as she felt herself slip into slumber.

“Hey!”

She flinched awake and pressed back against the wall. Her mouth opened to let out a scream.

“Sssh!” The boy in front of her waved his arms frantically, shaking his head hard. “Don’t shout!”

The sound died in her little throat, and she coughed on the smoke in the air when she breathed in too deep.

He ran to her and grabbed her hand, and she squeaked as he dragged her off the wall and ducked under the broken roof on the other side. “What’s wrong with you?” he whisper-yelled. “Why were you just sitting there like that? Do you want to get killed?”

“K-killed?” she blanched. 

“You don’t, right? So there’s some things you don’t ever do.” He ducked out slightly to peek upward at the sky, then took a quick look around. His little shoulders dropped when nothing stood out to him and he slipped back under the roof. “Don’t you know that?”

“I- I don’t know where I am,” she mumbled, staring at him.

He frowned. “Oh. Did you hit your head?”

“No…” she rubbed at her face. The boy’s eyes promptly caught on the flashing light on her wrist.

“What’s that?” he reached out.

“Don’t touch that!” she yanked her hand away before he could touch her wrist. “I-if I- they- they’ll hurt me if I hurt it.”

He blinked. “Hurt you? Is it a bomb?”

“A- um,” she clutched at her dress. “I dunno. W-what’s a bomb?”

“You don’t know what a bomb is?” he exclaimed quietly, then frowned. “You aren’t from around here, but everybody knows bombs.”

She watched him quietly.

He rolled his eyes, brushing his soot-covered blonde hair out of his face. “Bombs did all of this,” he gestured at their surroundings. “They’re things people throw from planes or their hands and they go boom-“ he raised his arms and fanned them out to mimic an explosion - “and everything burns and people die.”

“Oh,” she hugged herself tighter. “What’s…what’s ‘planes’?”

He stared at her. She can’t be serious . 

“Hey, how old are you, anyway?”

She sniffed. “F-four.”

I guess that explains that , he watched her. “I’m almost eight. What’s your name?”

“Anya,” she said, smiling a little at the chance to tell someone. “What’s- what’s yours?”

His mind immediately supplied her with a faint name, but his mouth remained shut. He hesitated, large teal eyes darting from stone to shard on the ground and little hands clutching at his worn shirt.

“You can call me Advisor,” he said finally.

“Ad…ad-wy-zor,” she mumbled, and repeated it a few times to herself. “Okay.”

We need to do something about that hair , he frowned. 

“Wait here,” he pointed a finger at her feet. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He slipped out and disappeared behind the wall.

Anya watched after him, and carefully snuck ahead to follow. She poked her head out to look for him.

“I told you to stay put!” a hushed snap reached her ears from her left. She squeaked and ducked behind a wall, peeking out only slightly to watch him search the debris around the bags of sand. Within seconds, he fished out a large, dented helmet and hurried back to her.

“It’s dangerous out here and you need to listen to me when I tell you to do something,” he grumbled as he put the helmet on her head. “Does that hurt? Um, the…things…on your head?”

The helmet covered her eyes and remained an inch off her hair, suspended on the cones over her ears. It spun slightly when she shook her head. “I can’t see.”

“Hold it up,” he raised it by the rim with his fingers to unshield her eyes. “Like this.”

She followed, poking the rim with her own fingers and trying to balance the helmet on them.

“Come on, I know a safer place,” he grabbed her hand again and led her off. Her other hand flew to the top of the helmet to keep it from falling. It fell over her eyes again, and she gripped Advisor’s hand tighter as she stumbled after him.

They came to a large hole in the wall of a house a minute away from the one with the caved in roof, and Advisor gripped her hand tighter as he led her down a flight of well hidden stairs into a small basement.

“I have some food here,” he kept his small voice down. “I have to go out to find more soon but you can take whatever you want for now. There isn’t much.”

Anya peeked around at the dilapidated walls and a couple of cracked benches lined up against each other against one wall as a makeshift bed. A few cupboards hung open on the wall in front of her. She walked closer to the small, neat pile of packets and old newspaper wraps in the corner. 

“Where are your parents?” he asked from behind her.

She jumped at his voice and turned to him timidly, shaking her head.

“Oh,” he nodded, frowning. He sat down at the edge of the bare bed, and sighed when he saw her fidget. “You can sit down. We’re safe for now.”

She trudged over and sat down next to him, holding up her helmet. 

“Take that off,” he lifted the helmet from her head and kept it down behind them. “You’re a walking target outside with that hair and the white dress but you don’t need it where they can’t see you.”

“The people with bombs?”

Those wretched murderers , his eyes narrowed for a moment. “Yeah, the people with bombs.”

She blinked at the difficult words, but the anger behind them remained clear as day. “You don’t like them.”

“Of course I don’t like them,” he bristled. “They killed everybody. When I’m bigger, I’ll kill them back.”

She curled in on herself at the loud static that suddenly filled his mind. He noticed, and bit his lip guiltily. “Sorry.”

Memories of tall people in white coats coaxing her to say that word flooded her mind. She tried to hide her face.

“Wait, hey, I’m sorry,” he said, sounding worried. He scooted closer and patted her back with his little hand. “I won’t say that again, okay?”

She peeked out at him. “Everybody tells me to say sorry all the time.”

“What? Who’s ‘everybody’? Do you have a home?”

She shook her head. “The big people. They wear white clothes and they’re mean.”

“White clothes?” I need to send her back. “Where are these people?”

Instead of an answer, he was met with a shrill scream.

“Don’t- don’t send Anya back!” she began to wail, scrambling away from him even as he sprang up and waved his arms at her to stop. “I don’wan’ go back!”

“Stop screaming!” he whispered, panicky, and rushed to hold her by her shoulders. “Anya, shut up! If anyone finds us here they'll kill us!”

The static in his mind multiplied, and Anya’s cries grew with it. 

“Stop!” he yelled over her, wrapping himself tight around her little curled up form. “Please!”

Anya stopped with a small hiccup, distracted by what he had just done. 

She remembered being taught about something like it among her early lessons. It had stuck with her - they had said it was something two friends did with each other, and she blinked when she realized that this was what they had called a hug.

It was warm and soft, and she felt less afraid, so she let her head fall against her friend’s little shoulder.

“…okay, then,” she heard him mumble, and closed her eyes tiredly when he patted her back some more.

“You shouldn’t stay here if you got somewhere to go back to,” he tried quietly. She went rigid, and he patted her back faster. “No, wait, listen to me! This place is really dangerous, okay? There’s soldiers- uh, big people in green clothes with guns that pass through here. They killed a lot of people here a while ago. But things are different where you come from, right? You should try to go back there because it must be safer.” How did she even get here? When did she get here? How did I not notice her if she’s so bad at staying hidden? 

“Anya doesn’t know how she got here!” she blurted out, startling him into stepping back. “Anya was- there were two big people and one of the big 'uns took away Anya’s food and- and said ‘close your eyes’ and then I was here!”

Advisor frowned. “Are you lying to me?”

“No!” she sniffled. 

He folded her arms, watching her carefully. She could be bait from the other side to lure people out- wait, would they do that? Maybe they would…but then I took the bait and nothing has happened to me- yet. His eyes went a little wide. Oh no. I’m going to die. They will track me here and kill me and-

Anya screeched and slapped his nose. “I’m not bait!”

“What?” he yelped, rubbing the tip of his nose with his little hand. “How did you-“

“I- I mean I’m not, um, I’m not lying! ‘Cause- if I was lying, I’d be en- anemun- umf. Bad guy, right? B-but I’m not! And I don’t got a gun and I’m small, so-!” she flailed as she rambled, trembling in the hope that he would believe her.

His mind silent, he gave no sign that he would, but let his arms fall to his sides. He sat next to her again.

“Then tell me where you’re from,” he said quietly. “You can ask me things too, but only once I’m sure you aren’t the enemy.”

“Okay,” she clutched at her dress. “There’s a big white place and it’s got lotsa big people in it. They don’t like Anya but they keep dragging Anya places. They got nice food, but sometimes if I don’t go with them they don’t give me any. And- and once I tried to hide in my room, and turned the thing on my door so they stayed out, but then- but they boke the door and got me. I can’t close the door now. They yell at Anya a lot and they let Anya get hurt too. One of the big people hits Anya ‘cause studying is scary and they yell when I get wrong answers so I don’t want to. So Anya pretends, s-so she doesn’t hit me anymore.”

The boy stared at her in silence.

She glanced at him, listening to the low static.

“I gotta think,” he said quietly. “You can ask me stuff now if you want.”

She turned toward him a little more. “Your house?” she pointed in the general direction of the ceiling.

I don’t have one of those . “No. I found this place a week ago- uh, do you know what a week is?”

“Seven sunrises!” She nodded once.

“Okay, good.” He brought his knees up in front of him and hugged them. “If anything happens too close to this place or if food runs out, I’ll move again.”

“Where is this?”

“Kielberg,” he said quietly. “I’ve been here for four months.”

“Home?” she asked again.

There was that static once more. “Are you asking if this is my home or where my home is?” He sighed. “I’m from Luwen. It’s a long way from here.”

“Oh,” she nodded. “Where’s your mama and papa?”

The static - pain , she realized - shot up to almost deafening levels, and she immediately curled up to hide that she had covered her ears. Advisor did not notice, his head turned away to hide his face. “They’re gone. I don’t know where Papa is and Mama-“ his voice broke. 

She watched as his little fingers clawed into the bench. Then he turned back, looking worn out all of a sudden. “She’s been dead for over three months.”

I made my friend hurt , she thought, and her fingers gripped her dress tighter.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

He looked at her with some surprise. “It’s okay,” he shook his head. “I don’t mind telling you.”

“You were gonna cry,” she raised a hand and patted his head. “There, there.”

Tears quickly pooled in his eyes when her little fingers stroked his hair, but he blinked them away and ducked his head. “Y-you can stop. I’m fine.”

She lowered her hand. “Wanna be friends?”

All my friends are dead , he kept his fingers from clawing into the bench again. Because of me.

“No.”

“But you’re nice,” she protested.

No I’m not. “I don’t want friends,” he said coldly, hopping down to his feet and starting to pace. “I have enough to worry about.”

“But- but…” her little features scrunched up in a frown as she tried to find her words. “You gave me the helmet!”

“So what?”

“So- so you told me to stay put and then went out and what if a bad guy saw you?”

“What if a bad guy had seen me, you mean,” he corrected idly, then startled. “S-so what though! I couldn’t leave you out there to get shot!”

“So we’re friends!”

“I got my friends killed!” he snapped, starting to sniffle. “They’re all dead and all because I left them somewhere because I did something so stupid and- and we are not friends, you got that? We’re never going to be friends.”

“But-“

Don’t you get it, I want you to be safe! “No buts! I’ll teach you to steal and how to not get caught if someone bigger chases you and we’re gonna look for a way to send you back.” He pointed at tally marks scratched into the wall behind them. “You see that? I’m giving us seven sunrises- I mean, seven days.”

“Oh,” she said quietly as his first thought rang in her head. Her response sent another flare of pain through his mind, but his demeanor calmed a notch. He sat back down. 

“Food isn’t easy to get around here,” he told her, his gaze fixed to the floor. “You’re smaller than me, so you can have the bigger share of whatever we eat. I’ll finish anything you can’t and save what we can. I’ll lend you some clothes I stole, too. They aren’t pretty and they’ll be big on you but we don’t have other options.”

She beamed at her brand new friend who didn’t know he was her friend because he was silly and would panic again if she told him. “Okay!”

“What are you so excited about?” he grimaced. “Anyway, it’s almost sundown. I can’t get any lights down here so you need to sleep soon. I can’t help you if you’re afraid of the dark.”

“Okay,” she repeated. 

“Are you?” he glanced at her, sliding off the bench and heading toward the pile in the corner. Please tell me you aren’t. Nothing would give us away faster than you screaming in the middle of the night.

“No,” she shook her head.

“Good.” He brought back a newspaper wrap, and sat beside her again as he rested it in his lap to open it up. An old apple and a few meal packets sat inside. “The apple might turn bad soon, so you can have these for now,” he pushed the packets toward her. “There’s crackers and some dried bread. I stole them off some of the soldiers the other day.”

“You took food from the big guys?” she gasped.

“I did,” he sounded almost proud. “You’re really small, so it’ll be much easier for you.” 

“Okay!” she squealed.

“Keep your voice down as much as you can,” he frowned at her, and took the apple to another corner. He wiped a small blade on his shirt before using it to cut the fruit haphazardly in half, inspected it from all angles, and then brought the halves back. “It’s still good,” he dug the seeds out with his finger and dumped the slightly bigger half into her hands. “Eat.”

Anya obediently bit into the apple, holding it with both tiny hands. “ ‘Fank you,” she mouthed around her bite.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he said idly, nibbling at his own half. 

They ate in silence apart from when, having finished her apple, Anya tried to open the packet of crackers and held it out to him when she couldn’t. He crumpled the piece of newspaper and tucked it into a small ball of similar crumples at one end of the joined benches, then paused and pushed it to the other end. 

“Use that for a pillow. Put the wrappers in that corner when you’re finished,” he pointed, then scooted back to lean against the wall.

Anya scampered off to drop the empty packet where he had indicated, then ran back and climbed onto the benches, crawling over to sit near him.

“What are we gonna do now?” she asked him, bouncing a little.

“You can sleep if you want.”

She pouted, then brightened up again. “Friend?”

“Knock it off, Anya,” he frowned at her. 

“Okay,” she shrugged.

He sighed. “Anyway, I’ve got another question. Do you know where you were before you got here?”

“Yeah! Um…it’s a place…it’s got that big name…”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Was it in this country?” Please tell me you know what a country is.

She stopped short as her mouth opened to ask just that question, and shut it with an audible snap. She shook her head.

“You don’t know what a country is, do you,” he sighed again, and continued when she shook her head. “It’s a really big place with lots and lots of people. You can’t cross the border of one country into another country if you aren’t allowed to.”

She nodded sagely.

“You don’t get it,” he stared at her, and sulkily slid down the wall. “How do I explain it- okay, listen up.” He sat up straighter. “This country is Westalis. The big people in the green suits with guns are from the country next to this one, Ostania.”

She blinked. “They’re allowed to come here?”

“Not exactly,” he leaned forward a little with interest, encouraged by a sign that she understood. “It’s a little like if there was your house and my house, and I could only come to your house if you let me and the other way round. But if you came to my house on your own and hurt my people, I’d be mad and we’d fight.”

She jumped back on her butt. “Anya wouldn’t do that! We’re friends!”

“No we aren’t,” he frowned, and folded his small arms tight. “I meant Ostania is like a big house and the people in that house are the worst and they lied to us and hurt people in my house and then everyone here got mad and then the Ostanians came here to keep hurting my people without being allowed to come here, so now they need to be fought off so they leave my people alone.”

“Oh,” she frowned hard. “They threw the- um, the bombs?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s why I said when I’m bigger, I’ll help my people. I’ll go fight in the war.”

“B-but you said kill,” she looked confused.

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “That’s what you do if there’s a war. You kill the bad guys from the other side.”

“But that’s dangerous!”

“Of course it is. Army people fight so everybody else can live and be happy.”

“But you’re so sad,” she mumbled.

He startled and turned his face away. “When we win the war, everything will be fine.”

“Do your people throw bombs too?” she peeked at him.

“H-huh?” Of course they do. They have to. How will we win the war if they don’t? “I don’t know. B-but if they do, it’s only on top of the bad guys,” he nodded hard, as though trying to convince her.

Yeah, that sounds right. We didn’t start it. We’re only trying to fight those dastardly Ostanians .  He nodded some more. “Anyway, um, what’s the long name you said your place had?”

“O-Oss…Ostania,” she said, very quietly.

He sat bolt upright. “What?”

“The- the big people in the coats keep telling me!” She slowly scooted away from him. “They say…they say Ostania n-needs Anya so Anya has to study and b-be smart and-“

“Hey!” he called, and shot forward to grab her by the arm just as she scooted off the edge of the bench. She shrieked from the sensation of slipping off but bit her lip, pushing herself back on with his help.

Peeking over the edge, she noticed that the height she would have dropped from was barely enough to hurt her at all. She scrunched up her face in confusion.

“I’ve fallen off bigger chairs,” she mumbled.

“What if you’d hit your head?” he shot back. “O-or hurt that thing on your hand? You gotta be careful!”

She dared a tiny peek at him. Advisor watched her with large, troubled eyes, his mouth pressed into a thin line and his brows furrowed in the angriest little frown he could manage. 

His expression twitched, and he stared at his fingers as he fiddled with them in his lap. 

“Do people talk to you where you come from?” he picked at his shirt.

“Yeah,” she watched him cautiously. 

“Do you listen to them? Don’t they tell you about the war?”

She shook her head, her large eyes filling with confusion. 

“Don’t you get to go outside?”

She shook her head again. “I wanna go out but when I tell them they get mad and yell at me to study.”

I suppose they didn’t want to talk about it to a kid , he nodded to acknowledge her. Beat her up but didn’t tell her about a war. That’s funny.

“You’re definitely gonna go back there though,” he shrugged. “The war doesn’t sound like it hurts people that much where you come from.”

“B-but the big people,” she shook her head hard.

“They won’t kill you. I’ll teach you to manage some of the other stuff.”

Anya suddenly let out a shaky whine, and he looked up to notice that the last solid rays of light were waning from the part of the hole he had left uncovered to let in air.

He gave her an annoyed look. “You lied to me.”

“No I didn’t!” she squeaked in protest, hugging herself.

“You said you weren’t afraid of the dark. Lie down so you don’t fall off again. It’ll be pitch black in a little while.”

Anya crawled closer to the little crumpled newspaper pillow and lay down with her head on it. It pricked at her neck, and she scooted down and turned on her back.

“Comfortable?”

“S-scared,” she mewled. 

He huffed again. “There’s nothing coming to eat you up or anything, you know,” he lay down on the opposite end of the benches, facing away from her and using his arm as a pillow.

“I d-don’t even have Mr. Chimera with me,” she curled up into a tiny bundle. “He doesn’t let Anya be all alone.”

“Mister who?”

“Chimera,” she sniffled. “He’s nice to hug.”

The boy groaned.

Anya lay there in the silence that followed, keeping her eyes open until the last of the light faded from the room. She sniffled with a little squeak, opening her eyes wider in a desperate attempt to make out shapes in the dark.

There was shuffling and the creaking of wood from the other end, and by the time it came closer she could make out a small silhouette against the wall in front of her.

“You can hold the end of my shirt,” Advisor mumbled, lying on his side with his back to her. “Keep your distance though or I’ll kick you off and you’ll have to sleep on the floor.”

She startled and stuck a hand out in front of her, grabbing at air until she caught the rough fabric of his shirt in her little fingers. She clung to it in a tiny death grip.

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing her eyes. 

“Just go to sleep,” he muttered, shifting and adjusting his small self until the wood scratched at him a little less.

-

Light slowly diffused through the holes above at dawn, illuminating the basement just enough for one to be able to walk around reasonably safely. 

A pair of eyes opened like clockwork. The dead weight that pinned the boy to the bench quickly made itself known as he gathered his wits, and he blinked at the little body that lay draped over his side, fast asleep.

“Anya,” he tried to wriggle out from under her. “Let me up!”

She mumbled in her sleep and held on tighter.

The boy muttered under his breath. He stuck an arm under her to lift her slightly off his side as he turned carefully to lie on his back, then turned again to his other side until he faced her and wiggled out from under her so her head could slip from over him to the bench without landing roughly on it. 

“Wake up,” he shook her by the shoulder. “It’s light out.”

She curled up, grumbling softly.

“Fine,” he sighed. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes with little fists and pushed himself to the edge beside her. “I’m going to get us some water. Stay here.”

“Nngh,” she kicked out a tiny leg.

The boy hopped off the bench and headed to the corner that stored food to take a small, battered pail. He eyed Anya to make sure she was asleep and trudged off to the stairs, climbing them cautiously to leave the basement.

Minutes later, Anya pushed herself to sit up on the bench, rubbing her eyes with both her little fists. She stared at the wall in front of her, then blearily looked around the room.

“Awysor?” she mumbled, blinking. She threw a little leg over the edge and pushed herself forward a little too hard, pouting when she fell off and plopped onto the ground. Mumbling some more, she pushed herself to her feet and looked around until she spotted the helmet. She swiped at the air until she leaned out enough to reach it and fumbled to put it on her head.

“Gotta go find Awysor,” she stumbled to the stairs, yawning as she clambered onto the steps on her hands and feet before she pushed herself upright to grasp at the wall and hold up the rim of the helmet as she climbed.

She squinted when half-bright, smoky daylight hit her eyes. The landscape remained unchanged, and she steadily put one foot in front of the other, navigating around rocks and broken pieces of things that used to be colorful but had been caked over with dust. 

“Anya!” a sharp little voice called. Anya startled and let the helmet drop over her eyes. Advisor sounded mad.

Something sloshed and came closer along with the crunch of loose gravel under his little feet. Anya peeked out from under the helmet.

“I thought I told you to stay!” He scampered over to rest the pail of water near the hole to the basement, then ran back to grab her hand and yank her away toward it. 

“Anya thought you got lost!”

He pushed her to hurry down the stairs, his small hand twisted securely into the neck of her dress to hold her back if she stumbled. “I live here! Are you stupid?”

“Dun’ call me stupid!”

“Okay, sorry, but you gotta only go out there if I’m with you, okay?” He shook her by the shoulders when they reached the last step. “Don’t move. I’m gonna go bring the water down here.”

He ran back up as fast as his little feet would take him. Anya pouted, wandering around the room. She bumped into a corner and squeaked, taking her helmet off. The food pile in the corner caught her attention.

Advisor climbed back down sideways, holding the pail steady by its handle and taking it slow to avoid sloshing any water over the edge. He put the pail down on the floor. “We wait before we use the water,” he dusted his little hands on his shorts. “There’s stuff in it that sinks to the bottom and then I’ll help you use the cleaner bit.”

“Okay,” she nodded. She trudged over faithfully right to him and stuck a few packets in his face. “Food!”

“Want me to open these?” he took them from her.

She pouted. “For you!”

He blinked at her. “Oh.”

She beamed, proud of herself. Advisor put the packets on the bench and walked over to rummage through the pile, digging out a wrapped piece of dried bread. “Go sit.”

Anya hopped over to the bench and perched on it as he held out the bread to her. “I’ll help you wash your face and your hands after you finish that. ‘Cause see, if you splash the water it’ll get dirty again.”

She pushed the ends of one of the slices together, and held out one half to Advisor when it snapped.

You need that! “I’m good with the crackers. This won’t go bad, so we can save what you can’t finish.”

“You’re hungry!” she tried to push both halves into his hands.

“I’m fine! Do you wanna be strong enough to fight off the big people or not!”

“But you gotta teach Anya so you gots to be strong too!”

“I’m already stronger than-“

She swiped at his nose, screeching. “No!”

“Okay, okay! Goodness,” he grumbled, taking one of the two halves. He nibbled at it, watching as Anya scarfed down the other half, then broke her next slice into two.

“No,” he shook his head just as she began to extend another half to him. “Eat that. We need your stomach to be full until you go back and get actual food.”

“But-“

“I’m bigger than you. You have to do what I say.” He slipped off and walked over to the pail, dipping a careful finger into it as he scrutinized it. “The water’s ready. I gotta get more food for you, so I’ll teach you some stuff you can do here after you wash up until I get back.”

“Anya wants to come too!” she pouted.

He let out a long-suffering groan, tipping his head back to glare at the ceiling. “No.”

“Why not!”

“Because I can’t keep the both of us safe! I’m too small!” he frowned at her. 

She grumbled and fiddled with her dress, and Advisor scrunched up his nose in fresh annoyance. 

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal.”

She promptly stopped and looked up, eyes twinkling in anticipation.

“I’ll be your friend,” he said, and held up his pointer finger when her mouth opened into the biggest grin. “If, and only if, you stay down here and don’t follow me and practice what I teach you while I'm outside for six more days.”

Her grin immediately turned into a tiny scowl. 

“No?”

She scowled harder.

“Oh,” he watched her, going slightly wide eyed and giving her a sad little pout. “Okay. I guess you didn’t wanna be my friend very much in the first place.” He nodded as though in grave understanding, and turned to face away from her. “It’s fine. I’m used to not having friends now anyway.”

He sighed, then held his breath to listen for a response, eyes darting to the side ready to peek over his shoulder.

Sure enough, seconds later, he heard quiet sniffling, then scrambling followed by tiny thundering footsteps. He had barely turned around when Anya barreled into his arms, looking as though she would have burst into sobs had she not been told to be quiet.

“I w-wan’be your friend!” she sniffled. “I dun wan’ you to be sad!”

He patted her head. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” She hiccuped. “Anya will s-stay here and- and Anya will work really hard!” She rubbed at her eyes, then wrapped her little arms around him even tighter. “And when I’m bigger and stronger I’ll help you!”

“Thank you,” he patted her head some more. “Come on, stop crying and clean up for the day, okay?”

“Okay,” she sniffled and nodded obediently, wiping her eyes on her sleeve as he pushed her off of himself.

They crouched by the pail, and the boy helped her roll up her sleeves, pouring water out of his cupped hands over her arms as she carefully scrubbed them. He poured more over her face, helping her clean away the dust from it and making sure she cleaned behind her ears. He frowned a little at the small amount of water left in the pail, its level close to the gunk that had settled to the bottom.

“I’ll just get more later,” he mumbled, then turned back to her. “Okay, now for your training.”

“What do I gotta do?” she hopped in place, eyes wide in excitement. Over little bursts through the next hour, Advisor ran about the room, pointing at little nooks Anya could use to hide at first, then giving her chase himself to put her to the test. He caught her more often than not, and when they stopped to let Anya catch her breath, he pointed and gestured with little hands and demonstrated for her the different ways she could dodge, turn, roll, and evade.

Anya nodded along, her eyes wide, even though her attention wandered several times in the middle of his efforts.

He sighed at the end of the day’s lesson, walking over and plopping down next to her to rest. “You’ll get it slowly, I suppose.”

“Oh,” she looked at him with alarm in her large eyes. “Is Anya doing bad?”

“No, you’re just four,” he rocked himself a little for no reason. “We got a bunch of days. You run pretty fast so you’re doing okay to start with.”

She lit up. “Okay!”

He pushed down the tiny urge to smile that crept up on him before it showed on his face.

-

The following days were quiet, and the basement became a strange nook of safety and growing warmth within the utter desolation that surrounded the half-demolished house. 

Every morning, the boy awoke to a different combination of tiny limbs pinning him to the bench, sometimes with a fluffy pink head of hair added to the jumble; each morning, the frown on his brows grew smaller when he pushed her off, and he learned to not try to rouse her from her sleep before she wanted to wake up as quickly as Anya learned to use his own tactics on him - she mastered the art of crocodile tears within a couple of days to threaten an extra bit of food into his stomach, even if he thwarted each such attempt until she had let out the tiny sound she always did when she felt comfortably full. 

Their activity sessions grew busier as she grew quicker on her feet. By the end of the lesson on day six, Advisor noted quietly and proudly to himself that Anya’s reflexes had improved - granted, in no small part due to the surprise jabs and half-hearted pounces he dealt her at random times through the day - and she could wriggle out of every little hold the boy could manage to lock her into. ( “But remember, the big people are much stronger than I am, so you have to be quick enough to escape!” he had wagged a finger at her, and she had nodded dutifully. ) She squealed softly in delight every time she pulled off a little roll, and had giggled wildly the one time Advisor had tried to catch her and she had tumbled right into his knees and knocked him off balance. He had allowed the noise for once.

The sixth evening, Anya wiggled around on the bench as the light faded away, and squeaked happily when Advisor crawled over and lay flat on his back near her. She reached out to hook her tiny fingers in his shirt again.

He put his small hand over hers and patted it. 

"Friends tomorrow!" she beamed, squirming restlessly.

"Right," he said quietly, closing his eyes.

Anya's smile shrank by a little. 

"I couldn't find anything," he mumbled. "About where you came here from. I tried really hard...I'm sorry."

"Oh." She patted his head with her other hand. "It's okay. I'm not sad."

"You don't get it," he sighed and turned away onto his side. "I can't keep you safe here. I can't stay here for a long time either." Please just go away. Don't leave me. You need to be somewhere safe.

She blinked, confused. 

"Nevermind," he curled up and folded his small arm under his head. "Just go to sleep, okay? I'll see you in the morning."

Maybe I can try harder. Maybe if I can trick her into thinking I ate, and use all the food for her...maybe I can sneak her across the border and leave her somewhere safe? That's so dangerous, though...but then the big people in coats wouldn't find her, right? It's gotta be better there than here- ...no, I don't know. I don't know what to do. She'll stay here and then we'll move whenever and I'll just keep her alive for as long as I can. She's so smart, maybe she'll manage fine even if something happens to me.

He let out a tiny, relaxed breath. Okay. I can do this .

"Friends tomorrow," he called softly to her.

She said nothing, trying her hardest to stay completely quiet like she would if she were hiding.

"Anya?" he peeked over his shoulder. Quickly, before he could see her, she shut her eyes.

"Oh." He nodded. "'Night," he curled back up.

Anya waited in silence, counting up to twenty and then making up the rest of the numbers. Advisor was all quiet, and she let go of his shirt.

He stayed fast asleep. Anya sat up, staring at the band on her wrist.

She hooked a finger between it and her skin, took the deepest breath her little lungs could manage, and tugged hard.

-

[May, 1961]

"-what is this I hear?" A new voice loudly made itself known, and Anya flinched. "What do you mean you sent her into the past within this timeline? Did you not check?"

"I did - we both did!" The man sounded almost meek. "I don't know what went wrong but-"

"Wait, the girl!" Footsteps rushed to the small structure where Anya now lay curled up, half awake and clutching at her head. Dr. Williams picked her up and took her to a nearby chair, seating her in it.

"It's only been a minute," he turned to his seniors. "I highly doubt anything even happened."

"I want a full analysis within the hour," the tall, grizzly man warned. He stalked off. 

Dr. Williams sighed, turning back to the chair. 

It was empty.

Chapter Text

[May, 1961]

Dr. Williams rushed through the long corridors, ducking into every room with an open door.

“007!” he barked out, giving up on the other rooms and heading for her own. “Get back here! You can’t just run off and expect us to let you!”

He turned the corner and spotted the girl sneaking out along the walls, Mr. Chimera clutched tight in one of her little arms as the other stuck to the wall. She squeaked when she spotted him, and let out a horrified scream before bolting down the hall.

Dr. Williams groaned and sprinted after her, reaching out and grabbing her hand just as she ran into a dead end. 

“Let go!” she wailed, and he flinched at how much louder she suddenly was. He turned his head away. “Anya doesn’t wanna stay here! Lemme go!”

The man turned and walked off to her room, Anya dangling from his arm. He stepped inside and closed the door as far as it would go, depositing her onto the floor and folding his arms. “Quiet, girl.”

“No!” she screamed, her little face red with tears and an anger none of them had seen from her before. She tried to duck between his feet and make for the small gap between the door and its frame, but he caught her and slid her back into the room. “Anya gotta run ‘way! Anya’s gonna keep being really loud un-until you lemme run away!”

“Here, I have your bar for you,” he knelt on the ground and produced her nibbled-at protein bar from his pocket, offering it to her. She snatched it and bared her teeth at him.

Dr. Williams frowned, taken aback. “When the hell did you learn that? What’s gotten into you?”

She clutched Mr. Chimera close. “Lemme go or- or I’ll bite you!”

“What?” he scowled. “Tell me this - where would you even go? There’s nobody out there that cares about you.”

“Yeah there is!” she yelled, backing away from him. Tears pooled in her large, angry eyes. “Everybody isn’t bad people like you and I don’t gotta just- um- s-sit there and take it!” she frowned as though reciting a line, then nodded in satisfaction despite the rage on her little face. 

“And where did you learn that ?” he folded his arms.

Anya stomped on the floor. “My friend— my friend is so sad and he don’t got a house like you and he gotta hide every day a-and he’s still nice,” she sniffed, her brows furrowed. “He’s- he’s the nicest person ever. Y-you got lots of food and you’re all big and grown up and I never hurt you so you don’t got any ex-cooz to not be nice to me!”

“Your- what?” his eyes grew wide. “What friend?”

She screamed again, but this time Dr. Williams held up in his arms in a placating gesture. “Stop that. Listen to me. Did you meet someone when we sent you away?”

Anya froze. “N-no.”

“Don’t lie, little girl,” he rolled his eyes. “Look, I promise I won’t tell anybody else. Maybe I can help you find this friend again, yeah? Come on, talk to me.”

“No,” she took a few stumbly steps back. “You’re lying!”

“For the love of— here,” he sat on the floor against the door and took out his earphones, pressing a small button on one of them to turn off the low-decibel white noise they constantly played. “You can hear me now, can’t you? I’m not going to tell a soul. Talk to me.”

Listen, see? I promise I won’t tell anyone. Tell me, does that sound like a lie?

Anya sniffed, clutching her plush even tighter. “But- but what if you’s lying in your head!”

“We can’t do that,” he groaned again. “Tell me who you met.”

She watched him, her frown slowly melting away. “Will you h-help me?” she shuddered, and sat down in a far corner. “Can we- can we help my friend too?”

“I wouldn’t know what we can do until you start talking, you know.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but curled up into herself. “Okay,” she nodded, “E-everything was broken and burneding and smoky. A-and there was someone a little bigger than me.”

The middle of the war then. At least the dates worked. “A child? What was his name? Where were you two?”

She clutched her plush, almost shielding it. “You gonna go hurt him like you hurt me,” she sniffed.

He closed his eyes briefly, exasperated. “No, I won’t. And I might as well tell you - I can’t. Just like you can’t go see him again either.”

She startled. “But- but you said-”

“I lied,” he lifted a hand to silence her. She looked close to bursting into tears again. “It would be different if we’d just sent you to a different place, but we can’t because we sent you to a different time.”

“Huh?”

“Listen carefully,” he lowered his voice more, peeking through the hole in the door as if making sure no one was listening in. “You know how there’s this week, and there was last week, or last month or year, when you were smaller?”

She nodded, hugging her plush and wrapping her little limbs around it.

“We sent you back a lot of years,” he said. “We sent you back to a war that happened long ago. Anybody you met there is either grown-up or dead by now, anyway.”

Anya almost froze again. “D-dead?”

“Probably a lot more likely they’re dead, actually,” he mused. “Especially if he was just a child. Was there anyone else with him?”

Her plush dangled loosely from her hands. She shook her head, her face scrunching up as fresh tears welled in her eyes and fell in streams down her cheeks. 

Dr. Williams coughed awkwardly. “I mean, there’s still a chance they’re alive, of course. I guess.” Not a chance in hell. “Not everybody died, obviously.”

“Dead means- dead means Anya’s never gonna see him again,” she managed to say through quiet little sobs.

He fidgeted, then sighed. “Yes. Sorry, kid.”

Anya screamed again, scrambling away and curling up against the wall with her back to the man. Her tiny fists rubbed at her eyes. “M-my friend is okay!” she cried. “He gotta be, he-  ‘cause he can eat now ‘cause Anya won’t use his food, so- so he’s okay and you- you’re lying!”

“I’m not lying. I’m telling you what could have happened. Kids aren’t anywhere near strong enough to survive a war all on their own.” He massaged his temples with his fingertips. “But that means you were there for quite a while. How long was it for you?”

She screeched in rage and ran at him to swipe at his face. “My friend is not dead!” she tried to claw at his face as he threw his arms up to shield it. “I wanna go back!”

“Stop it!” He caught her little arms and held them down to her sides. “I can’t do that or they’ll have my head on a platter.”

“Huh?”

“I mean it's impossible, all right? I can’t help you.”

“NO!” she screamed, struggling with all she had against his hands. She kicked out a leg - it connected sharply at his knee and he flinched, loosening his grip. Anya broke free and ran around him to the gap in the doorway.

“Stop!” he caught her again, yanking her away. 

“S-send me back,” she wailed, starting to run short of breath as she sagged a little in exhaustion. “P-please, Anya will s-study too, please!”

He blinked at her. “Bargaining,” he muttered in surprise, and sat her on the floor, watching until she cried and sobbed herself into quiet sniffles again. 

Anya curled up on the floor.

Dr. Williams held his head in his hands, his mind racing as he watched her little body tremble as she calmed. 

“Anya,” he called quietly. She startled, the unusual address proving enough of a distraction. 

“I’ll help you escape this place, all right?”

She stared at him, and blinked when she found that his thoughts, though almost innumerable at that point, more or less mirrored his words. 

“I’ll keep you at my house,” he whispered. “You’re out of control here. The others will hurt you very badly if you act this way with them.”

She sniffled. “No.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to help you here. There is no way you can go back to your friend, all right? None. You need to forget about him. But you can’t stay here and you’ll die on your own, so this is really the only option you have.” 

Anya stayed silent, curling in on herself again.

Dr. Williams sighed. “Rest,” he slowly pushed himself to his feet. “They’re all too busy to bother with you for maybe a few days after that error. I’ll come get you out later tonight.” He pointed a finger at her. “Don’t try to run.”

Then he left the room.

Anya closed her eyes, exhausted.

Two months later, in the dead of the night, Anya Williams ran away from her first home.

—

[November, 1962]

A hand lifted the steaming paper cup to unsmiling lips as the world outside rushed past the window of the train carriage. A young man sat by it, placid eyes darting from one line to the next through the newspaper he held.

Good day. Or rather, good evening, “Twilight”.

He read on, taking almost methodical sips, letting the burden of the last operation slide off his shoulders for good as his mind deftly prepared itself for another clean slate.

A few lines further into the cipher, he choked on his coffee.

You are to enroll your child at this school and gain entry to these events. However, the deadline for admission is approaching fast.

Only one week remains.

“Seven days?” he snapped. 

Seven sunrises!

Twilight dismissed the little voice with practised ease, giving the people around him an apologetic smile to excuse himself even as a foreign, invisible weight seemed to settle on his shoulders.

Each persona he donned held purpose. Any cover he slipped under was carefully planned and every potential human connection he could make - along with the possible consequences of such connections and their inevitable erasures - was calculated to near perfection within a narrow margin for error, and executed in favor of the best possible outcome every step of the way.

And each time, like clockwork, the walls grew stronger. Their foundations strengthened around the destruction and death that had followed that first bomb, but also around fading memories of warm, safe arms and singing in the night, of the spirited scurrying of four pairs of footsteps and tiny battle cries through pleasant mid-mornings.

Of two hands - so much smaller than his own were now - reaching out to him for a stubbornly offered hug or waving in the air in joy that he thought he would not live to see again.

A child was a responsibility, and she had been the first he had - the only one he had known despite the expanse of the various experiences he had slipped into and out of over nearly a decade. 

She had been hope, and warmth, and a reason to keep fighting. Over the years, only the last of the three had remained, evolving quickly to cover the joy and the safety of as many children and their homes and lives as possible. 

Nothing had been enough to shake his walls except the memories themselves when they rattled relentlessly against them in his two hours of rest before dawn. There were nightmares, there were pleasant dreams; Twilight denied himself sleep for nights after the latter, if only to prevent the damage that waking up from them inflicted on his resilience. 

This mission ran a clear risk of attachment and more memories to be locked away once it was over, given a child would be involved, but it would be no more impactful than the rest - he would make sure of it, because there was too much at stake. 

He let out a quiet breath and closed the newspaper, letting his mind spin him up a new mask as the train sped away.

Three hours later, Twilight took a window seat aboard a bus. Tuning out his surroundings enough to hear his own thoughts yet remaining aware of every movement in the vicinity, he reviewed each detail he had gleaned from the books on parenting he had found during his hour in the library. Outwardly, he seemed to simply watch the people mill about on the sidewalk while the bus filled, one leg crossed over his other knee as his hands rested in a loose clasp in his lap. 

“Excuse me,” a soft voice called.

Twilight startled, frowning in mild shock at being caught unaware. He looked up.

“Is this seat taken?” the young woman pointed next to him, a sweet smile on her lips.

He shook his head, gesturing for her to sit just as the gates closed and the bus moved. The warm, amiable psychiatrist he had conjured up slipped flawlessly into the space Twilight occupied. “I apologize,” he gave her a sheepish smile. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Oh! No, I’m sorry about that,” she chuckled nervously, settling next to him and resting her purse in her lap. “Habit,” she mumbled, lowering her eyes to her purse as her fingers fiddled idly with it. 

“Um, I’m- I’m Yor,” she said, peeking at him. “Yor Briar.”

He turned to her. “Loid Forger,” he nodded in greeting. 

Yor gave him a bright little grin. “It’s nice to meet you!” she chirped, then seemed to shrink into herself a little. “I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you or anything. I just have the jitters, so…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said gently, watching as her eyes darted around her and her fingers played with a little rose ornament dangling at the side of her purse. “I don’t mean to pry, but is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine!” she nodded. “Today is just a really big day for me, so I was anxious. I’ll be okay, though!” she declared, her eyes twinkling with joy.

“I see,” he gave her a warm smile. “I wish you all the very best, then.”

“Thank you,” she beamed, hugging her purse. Her gaze flitted away again as she seemed to slip back into her invisible shell.

Something warm tugged inside Twilight at her demeanor. She was reserved, almost painfully so, but the set of her mouth told him that this was something she was used to: figuring things out alone, never expecting another to notice.

Yet she had reached out for him, he realized - and an unfamiliar, soft desire to bring her out of that lonely shell filled his chest. He figured it wouldn’t hurt - they would go their separate ways soon enough after the stretch of time that this shared bus ride afforded them.

“I suppose it’s a big day for me, too,” he offered. Her eyes snapped up to look at him right away, and the strange sensation in his chest grew. “I’m on my way to adopt a child.”

She startled, cupping her own cheeks with her hands. “You too?” she squeaked.

Twilight blinked, his mind screeching to a halt. “Wait, what?”

A big, radiant smile lit up her face, her cheeks dusting pink as she moved impatiently to turn toward him on her end of the long seat. “It’s why I’m so nervous! I took half the day off for today, you see - I was afraid if I waited any longer, I’d overthink this for six more months.”

He let his mind sort itself out of the knots it had worked itself into at his initial shock. “Understandable,” he chuckled softly, his body angling itself to face her better.

She shifted to face him completely in response, almost glowing in his warmth. “I’ve been working in the city for a few years, ever since my brother moved out of our old house. It wasn’t all that bad living alone, but I’m just- I want to look after someone, you know? I mean- that’s not the whole reason I want to do this, but you get me, right?”

He nodded, his expression rapt as he simply listened.

She blushed again and leaned against the backrest. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” she twiddled her thumbs. “I’m just excited, I suppose. And nervous. So nervous,” she briefly hid her face in her hands.

“That’s to be expected,” he said, softly. “A child is an enormous responsibility, but I’m sure you will be a beautiful parent.” He watched her, and the soft, loving light in her eyes for a child she did not have yet cemented the truth in his words as firmly as his own quick, yet careful assessment of her did. “You seem to be capable and kind, and you have an incredible capacity to care - I can see it. I believe in you, for whatever it’s worth.”

Yor stared at him, her eyes wide. They began to glisten, and she blinked the wetness away.

“That’s so sweet of you to say,” she murmured. “Thank you. I was scared, but I feel better now.”

“I meant every word, and it’s my pleasure, Ms. Briar,” he smiled, and tensed unnoticeably as the warmth in his chest grew at the simple honesty in her expression. 

She blinked. “Are you all right?”

Twilight repressed a twitch in his shoulders. “I am, yes. Why?”

“You seem troubled,” she frowned, concerned. “Your posture…”

Twilight’s brows arched again. He forced himself to relax, even as his mind raced to analyze her for any indication toward something out of the ordinary - outside of her perceptiveness. “I’m quite alright,” he nodded to reassure her. “I suppose I’m a little anxious myself.”

“Right,” she nodded. Her hand twitched as though it wanted to move toward him, but stayed firmly on her purse. “Are you doing this on your own, too?”

“I am.”

“Oh!” she squeaked, her eyes searching his face. She brought her fingers to her lips, her gaze flicking away again.

He watched her for a moment. “Is everything okay?”

“Y-yes,” she pressed her palms to her lap to still them. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking.”

He nodded, dismissing his small twinge of curiosity. “Where are you headed?”

“There’s this small home near the outskirts of the city,” she gestured to the west. “It isn’t very well off. I figured if even one of them would like to come home with me, it’d be worthwhile.”

He hummed - it seemed the better option if he wanted lesser hassles in falsifying his child’s origins. “I was headed to an orphanage two stops out, but I think I might change my mind.”

She smiled at him in surprise. “That would mean we can go together! I-if you’re okay with that,” she bit her lip nervously. “I wouldn’t interfere.”

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if our paths aligned for a while longer, he decided.

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” he tilted his head at her, the warmth in his chest having found its way to the twinkle in his eyes.

Yor stuck out her hand for a shake. “Friends?” she said, earnestly. “I wouldn’t have dreamed of something like this happening. It feels special.”

Twilight let a soft, surprisingly fond laugh escape his lips before he could help it. “I agree,” he gazed at her. He took her hand in his own and gave it a firm shake, the calluses of their fingertips grazing each other’s skin.

“You can call me Yor,” she drew her hand back before he moved his own. His smile grew at her gentle, happy restlessness. 

“Loid, then,” he placed his hand over his heart, and Yor’s eyes sparkled with delight.

“You’ll be a lovely parent too, you know,” she beamed, and put the sun to shame. “You’re the kindest stranger I’ve met- I mean, not that we’re strangers now!” she waved her hands as if to clear the air. 

“I know what you mean,” he smiled, and she sighed happily. In his mind, innocent and naive bounced around as he searched for a word to describe her. “Thank you. It means more than you know.”

She lit up again; a sweet, unbridled joy seemed to radiate from her very being, and Twilight decided on pure. He leaned back in his seat, facing forward again lest the peculiar little flip of his heart expressed itself on his face.

Yor let herself relax in her seat beside him, and they sat in gentle, companionable silence.

-

They gave the short, mustachioed man their best smiles, Yor balling her hands into fists to keep from reacting to the clear stench of booze that wafted from him as she passed him to step inside at his invitation. Twilight hung behind, speaking to him in a sweet, gentle voice.

He cut Twilight off in the middle of a sentence. “Whatever, just pick the one you want,” he waved, ambling off inside and expecting them to follow.

Twilight stepped in. His mouth pressed into a thin line and his shoulders tensed again at the dilapidated state of the home. 

“Excuse me,” he called to the man, a small, apologetic smile on his lips. “I would prefer a child who can already read and write, if that’s possible.”

“I see,” he grumbled, disinterested. “Not much of a choice there, but…” he trailed off.

Twilight took a moment to catch a glimpse of Yor, who went from giving the drunk man’s back another heated glare to fiddling with her fingers.

“Oy, Anya!” he called, gruffly.

Twilight’s gaze snapped up, but he blinked and dismissed his alarm. A common name, is all , he reproached. Calm down.

The man stepped aside. A little girl sat on the ground before them, clutching at a plush toy. Yor wandered closer and waved at her, affection lighting up her already bright eyes.

The girl let out a tiny sound, getting to her feet. She mustered a watery little smile back before gaze fixed itself higher and to Yor’s side.

Yor followed it, and blinked when she saw Twilight - suddenly pale as a sheet and frozen over, he seemed to have forgotten to breathe.

“Loid?” she called, gripping his hand. 

Twilight’s lips moved soundlessly. His mind slowly filled with white noise, and Anya squeaked and tried to cover her ears without making her attempt too obvious.

He heard a sharp, concerned whisper in his ear and faintly registered the frantic hand rubbing his back. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second.

Focus, he balled his hands into fists and dug his nails into his palms. It had to be a dream. This is real. You have a job to do.

He opened his eyes, taking a few steps toward the girl and folding his arms.

She looks to be under six — “Hey, how old are you anyway?” “F-Four.” — so I suppose that rules out — “You know what you gotta do? Watch.” — her eligibility for the entrance exam… — “Friends?” “Knock it off, Anya.” — I can’t breathe. Focus. This mission has to succeed at any cost. It can’t be her. How could I have dreamt her? I know this is not a dream — “If Anya was bigger, Anya would always protect you!” — Anya, Anya, Anya —

“Five,” Anya mumbled, gazing at him in complete awe. She padded over to him and clutched at his trouser leg with tiny fingers.

“What?”

“Anya’s five,” she tugged, and Twilight immediately knelt before her. Yor crouched near them, concern filling her expression.

She’s here? His blood ran cold. He tensed to suppress the shudder that threatened to wrack his body. It doesn’t matter, Twilight! Focus! 

But then Anya put her little hands on his cheeks, and his thoughts melted into a numb silence. A quiet tremor took over him even as his hand rose of its own accord and tenderly cupped Anya’s little cheek. 

She sniffled, tears welling up in her large eyes as she rushed forward, burrowing desperately against Twilight and planting her little face in his shoulder. 

His arms wrapped around her little body, his trembling fingers starting to card gently through her hair to soothe her on instinct. He stared into empty space in front of him, uncomprehending and unaware, even as Yor knelt next to them.

“You made it!” Anya cried, wrapping her little arms around his neck and clinging on tight.

“Oh,” Twilight let out a weak breath. His eyes rolled back in his head as they slipped shut, and he fell limp with Anya still in his arms. Yor startled and caught him, her own breaths short with panic. She looked up at the man in charge.

“We're taking her home,” she said, firmly.

—

[May, 1945]

The sound of little footsteps reached Anya’s ears from the stairs. She squealed and toppled over backwards, promptly ditching practice to run up to the stairs and hop and bounce at the last step.

“You did good,” Advisor nodded. “You don’t gotta do any more today or you’ll get too tired and then you’ll stay awake in the dark again.”

Beaming, she followed him like a lamb as he made a tiny beeline to the bench. “Okay! How many more days!”

He sighed. “Three.”

“And then Anya will be your friend!” she put her little arms up in the air in glee. 

“Sure,” he flopped onto his back.  

Anya followed suit, then curled up on her side next to him and patted his hair with her little hand.

“What are you doing.”

“You’re tired,” she cooed.

“I’m fine,” he swatted her hand away. He heard a tiny giggle before she returned it to his hair.

He swatted at it once more, and she squealed at the new game. Her hand came right back.

Advisor sighed again. “Having fun, are you,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah!” she giggled.

He huffed, closing his eyes. “No clues today either,” he said quietly.

“Okay! Anya’s happy here,” she declared. She scooted closer to hug him from the side.

He let out a disgruntled little sound, knowing better than to push her away. Anya remained happily glued to his arm, her hand patting and playing with his hair.

“Hey, I wanted to ask,” he started, eyes still closed. “Back where you come from, is there anyone that likes you even a little bit?”

Anya fell quiet. “I dunno,” she mumbled. “Nobody smiles at me.”

He peeked at her. “Oh. That’s…not good.” But I never smile either, he almost winced at the pang of guilt. Does it make you sad? 

She began to shake her head, then stopped and scratched the tip of her nose. “They dun’ call me Anya. They- they all call me zero zero seven.”

Advisor frowned, static from pain and rage flashing in sharp flares in his mind. Anya tried not to turn away, even though she grimaced a little. “Okay. Does anybody there…uh…not-like you a little less than everybody else? Even one person?”

She frowned, her little hand stilling over his hair as she thought back to the lab. “One big ‘un gave me food before lunchtime,” she mumbled.

“Okay,” he watched her quietly. Anya sniffed and rubbed her nose, and moved her other hand from his hair to clutch at his sleeve.

“Listen to me,” he said, sitting up to face her and tucking his little legs under him. Anya sat up hurriedly.

“You’re the smallest one there, right?” he raised his brows, and she nodded. “So everybody there is bigger than you. When everybody is stronger than you, and nobody around you likes you, you know what you gotta do?”

She shook her head, listening with wide-eyed attention.

“Watch,” he held up his finger. “You gotta watch everybody, and you gotta figure out things about them. Like, um- like if you cry, do they get tired and leave you alone or do they get mad and try to hurt you? If you get angry, do they get worried, or do they let you do what you wanna do, or do they get angry back? And- and listen,” he scooted forward, patting her hand. “There’s only one of you, but there’s a lot of big people, right? So you gotta learn as many of them as you can and then figure out which one is the least likely to hurt you, because sometimes grownups stand up against other grownups. You need to find at least one grownup that’s safe, okay?”

Anya nodded hard. “I got that lady to stop hitting me! So I can make the other big people not hurt me too!”

“Exactly,” his large eyes twinkled with pride. “You got it. We can practice some of that too for whenever you get to go back. And I’ll teach you more stuff, like- um…like if you get caught, you can hurt the person that’s caught you if you can’t wriggle free.”

“Okay!” she beamed, bouncing in her spot.

He nodded, shifting to lie down again. Anya mirrored him.

“Grownups do weird things sometimes,” he said quietly. “But if somebody’s mean to you, you don’t gotta just sit there and take it, okay?”

“Huh?”

He glanced at her briefly. “That means if they make you cry over and over, you fight back. You make sure they aren’t gonna hurt you worse, or you find one grownup that’ll protect you, and then you tell them to be nice to you.”

“Oh,” she nodded slowly, little brows furrowing in thought for a moment. “But they don’t like me. They say Anya’s being nasty-“

“No,” he frowned. “You’re a nice person and you don’t hurt anybody. If someone says you’re bad, it’s ‘cause they’re being stupid.”

“Okay,” she nodded, gazing at him with her eyes wide in surprise. 

Advisor closed his eyes - and opened them again in alarm when Anya wrapped her little self around half of him tighter than ever the next second.

“What are you doing now?”

“Hug,” she cooed, clinging to him. “If Anya was bigger, Anya would always protect you!”

Advisor let out a tiny, strangled little sound, his eyes wide. He bit his lip to quell its trembling. “Stop- stop it, Anya,” he muttered, not trusting his voice to hold steady if it was any louder.

Anya blinked, and hugged him even tighter.

“No,” he sniffled, and turned away with all the strength he could muster. Anya immediately found herself dislodged. She scooted closer to him.

“S-stay away from me!” he waved a hand back at her. “Don’t touch me.”

She jumped back. “But-”

“I’m going out,” he lowered himself to the floor and took off for the stairs. He paused and peeked at her. “Stay here-” please don’t leave me - “- or I’ll never be your friend. Got it?”

“Okay,” she nodded, her little mouth pressed into a determined line.

“Okay,” he echoed quietly, and rubbed away the tears in his eyes with his little fists as he ran up the stairs, disappearing behind a section of wall.

Darkness filled the room again hours later. Advisor waited until Anya had fallen completely silent, tugging at his shirt to gauge if she was asleep.

Her grip grew loose at the action, and the boy turned carefully onto his other side, facing her.

Quietly, he took her tiny hand that had fallen off his shirt when he had turned, gripping it in his own and placing it in the space between themselves. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, making sure his voice was extra quiet. He closed his eyes.

Anya, half-awake and groggy from the movement, waited for what she supposed was a minute before she scooched closer and draped her little self over his small frame on purpose for the first time, and promptly knocked out.

—

[November, 1962]

“It’ll fit you better when you’re a little bigger,” Yor giggled. Her fingers rested tenderly on Anya’s cheeks.

Anya nestled into her lap, bouncing delightedly. She raised her little hands to fix the loose, large headband over her hair, then held it in place. “Does it look pretty!”

“So pretty!” she squealed softly, eyes shining bright. “They suit you. I have some that are even prettier, but they’re a little sharp…”

Anya tilted her head. “Sharp?”

“Yeah, they have some metal bits,” Yor mumbled, then shook her head with a grin. “But I think you’d love them! One of them has a rose on it, and there’s another one with this pink petunia on one side, and-”

“Anya wants to see!”

“Oh! Um, how about this, instead - I’ll buy you some that look like my favorites!” She beamed at her. “I’m just a little worried because I don’t want mine to hurt you, but if you like these headbands, we can definitely get you some that fit you.”

Anya opened her mouth in a big, silent gasp. “I-is that okay?”

Yor blinked, wrapping her arms around her. “Why wouldn’t it be okay, little one?”

“Anya doesn’t wanna be a bother,” she curled up, inadvertently burrowing into Yor’s warm hold. 

“Hey,” she whispered, ducking her head to nuzzle at Anya’s hair. “You’re not a bother, okay?” I’ve known you for barely an hour and I can’t help but love you more than anything. How could you ever be a bother? “You’re the sweetest little person ever. If you want pretty headbands, you should get pretty headbands. Or anything else.”

Anya clutched Yor’s shirt, burrowing her little face over her heart. “Are you telling the trooth?” she whispered back.

“I am,” Yor pressed a tiny kiss to the crown of her head. 

“O-okay,” she peeked up at her shyly. “Then…then Anya wants lots of headbands that are all just like yours!”

Yor startled, gazing at her. There was a telltale rumbling behind her ears before tears welled in her eyes, and she hugged Anya close.

“Okay,” she sniffled. My little angel. I wish I could keep you forever.

Anya blinked, gazing at any part of her that she could see - which, for now, was her hair. She tried to wriggle out to glance at Yor’s face again, but found that she could not budge an inch in her hold.

She didn’t mind that at all, she decided.

“Did you come to the big place to be someone’s mama?” 

Yor stilled, then nodded into her little shoulder.

Anya hid her face in the crook of her neck. “Will- will you be, um… will y-you…” she struggled, her little fists curled tight into Yor’s shirt. 

Yor froze for a moment, then took a deep, shaky breath. Gently, she pulled away just enough to meet her eyes. 

“What about him, sweetheart?” she whispered, and the two of them turned to take a peek at the couch.

Twilight lay tucked into a blanket across it, unconscious but twitching every now and then, his brows furrowed.

“He might run away,” Anya mumbled, gazing at him.

Yor turned back to her. “But you love him so much,” she said softly, rubbing her little back. “There’s so much you want to tell him, isn’t there?”

Anya nodded, her face pinched in anxiety.

“He won’t run,” she kissed her forehead. I dare him to make you sad. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

“B-but he’s silly sometimes,” she sniffed. “He does stuff that makes him sad ‘cause he thinks it’ll make Anya happy but the stuff makes Anya sad too.”

Yor lifted her little face gently with her fingertips. “That’s not going to happen. You and I are a team, aren’t we?”

Anya’s eyes began to sparkle with hope. “Yeah,” she nodded, and peeked over again.

“Do you want to wait here with him?” Yor ruffled her hair, then set her on her feet before standing up herself. “I can bring you some hot cocoa!”

“Okay,” she squealed as softly as she could. “Thank you!”

“My pleasure, Anya,” she giggled and walked into the little open kitchen nearby. Anya trudged over to the couch, climbed onto it, and draped herself over Twilight’s chest.

Yor let her hands go about preparing a pot of coffee along with the hot cocoa. She watched from across the countertop as her little girl- no, not my little girl , she pursed her lips - stretched out her arm to pat Loid’s head, and scooched higher over his body to nestle her head into the crook of his neck. She looked just as content there as she had been in Yor’s own arms, and Yor wondered if it meant she had done something right or if Anya was just that loving toward everyone she met. 

Then she remembered the minutes after Loid had collapsed: how worried Anya had been, and the desperation in her little voice when she had cried for him to open his eyes until Yor had shown her his pulse and explained to her that he had merely passed out. It had always been clear that he and Anya knew each other, though Yor did not know how - neither had she asked. She had been too concerned with calming the little girl, and once Anya had come back to herself, time had flown by for them both in soft giggles and fond, emotional ramblings and a headband showcase that still lay spread on the little table near the couch.

Watching over the pot, she allowed herself a tiny smile. Whether Anya gave her love freely to everyone or had somehow grown as comfortable with her within an hour as she already was with Loid, Yor was now one of at least two people who had received that love. She felt that was enough to keep her going for another decade if somehow nothing else sufficed.

Presently, she found herself pouring the hot cocoa into a small mug. She placed the pot back on the stove and lifted her own mug of coffee in one hand, Anya’s drink in the other, and had begun to return to the rug when she noticed Loid. 

His head had turned toward the little pink head of hair snuggled against his neck, the furrow in his brows replaced with an expression of complete, utter calm. No longer unconscious - only asleep, she realized.

“Hey,” she whispered, and green eyes promptly blinked open. Yor gave her a soft smile. “I think he’s going to wake up. Do you want to come sit with me? He might panic.”

Anya glanced at him, then again at Yor. “I wanna stay here,” she whispered back. “He won’t hurt me.”

Yor bit her lip as she placed the mug on the table. “Are you sure?”

Anya nodded. The worry in her eyes from a moment ago had been replaced with joy, and she tucked her little head under his chin.

“Okay,” she nodded and seated herself in the small chair near the couch behind his head, sipping at her coffee and watching over them.

A soft, deep groan startled Anya from her little nook. She sat up on Twilight’s chest as his brows furrowed, and watched as his hands came up to rub at his face. His gaze fell upon Anya as soon as he opened his eyes.

He blinked at her in disbelief, and Anya curled her tiny fist around the fabric of his sleeve.

Sensing a presence behind him, he turned his head just enough to catch a glimpse of them in his peripheral vision, then passed his gaze quickly and with surgical precision over the rest of the small, almost bare apartment. This was Yor Briar’s home; if she had brought Anya here, then…

Almost immediately, his mind shifted gears. The child was safe and would be loved, and there was no time now for questions or niceties - he was compromised beyond a shadow of doubt. A clean break was imperative, and a complete, discreet psychiatric evaluation must follow. Its results would determine whether his work - and given his field, possibly his life - would come to an abrupt end, or if Loid Forger would be traded out of existence for a new cover that fit into a different schematic, pending a diagnosis that cleared him to continue.

Twilight glanced at the girl - Anya, little Anya, my Anya - as her large, bright eyes grew wide the way they used to when she had just learned something new, and placed his bets on the former outcome.

A child’s voice rang in his ears, crying out a small name over and over - muffled in the loud drone of planes flying overhead and forcibly hushed in the deafening silence that followed. Anya startled for some reason, gripping his sleeve with both little hands now even as she slipped into his lap when he moved to sit up; when he lifted her to place her on the couch instead, his body pulled itself taut and tense as though shouldering the combined weight of all of his collapsing walls. 

Twilight stood, ignoring the white hot pain that lanced through his chest as he took steady, measured steps toward the entrance.

“Loid,” a voice called. A mug was placed on the table, followed by the scrambling of feet near the couch. “Wait!”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, the doorknob turning in his grasp.

Without warning, a hand gripped his other wrist. “Stop, please ,” Yor tugged at him. 

He frowned and attempted to yank his hand free. Her grip grew vice-like as a consequence. “I’m clearly sick and I need to go to the hospital,” he pulled again, dismissing the faint idea of wrestling back control. “Please let go of my hand.”

“You collapsed from shock,” she said quietly, her eyes lowered and darting around as though looking for her words.. “I know I’m not a doctor, but I have experience with these things. All you need is rest, I promise.”

“Then let me get out of your hair,” he tried tugging at his wrist again, to no result. “I’m sure I’ve inconvenienced you plenty.”

“Take her with you, then,” she whispered. 

Twilight frowned. “Why on earth would I take away a child you adopted?”

“I haven’t adopted her yet!” she startled, then slapped a hand over her lips. “I- I mean, at all! The man at that home panicked and kicked us out when you fainted and there was no paperwork - I asked,” she hurried to explain. “I don’t know where you live, of course, so…” she gestured to indicate the apartment.

“You love her, yes?” he took a calculated guess. “You’ve grown close to her?”

Yor nodded right away. She opened her mouth to say more, but Twilight cut her off.

“I know you will take wonderful care of her,” his smile was as forced as his words were genuine, and warm. His fist tightened around the doorknob to keep his fingers from trembling. “Let go of me, now.”

“She was so scared for you,” Yor pleaded. “I promised her I wouldn’t let you run. Why won’t you even talk to her?”

Each second he was held back eroded at his control. He gritted his teeth, searching for the quickest way out that did not involve force.

“She isn’t supposed to be here,” he muttered instead. Heat prickled at the corner of his eyes, and the bolts that held him together seemed to snap free, one by one, inside him. “There is no logical explanation for her being here. None.”

Yor blinked at Anya, who sat rooted to her spot and watched them with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I had lost her ,” he snapped, trembling all over with the effort it took now to remain upright on his feet. His gaze fixed itself to the floor as he filtered the hurricane in his mind into the safest alternative to the whole truth, yet felt little control over the words that tumbled from his lips. “She was gone . There was no trace of her left. There was nothing of her left at all. I know, because I looked, I tried everything, I–”

His voice gave out; his knees followed swiftly, and the dull ache at the crash faded in lieu of a crushing weight that suddenly gripped his lungs. That same child cried out Anya’s name in his mind again as he forced his body to sit without support, and only realized his hand had been released from her grip when his fingers dug into his knee.

Yor crouched before him, pain filling her eyes. Anya scrambled off the couch, running over to them. Yet she stopped short, fidgeting by Yor’s side.

Twilight looked up and flinched when he met the little girl’s eyes, biting his tongue to keep from spilling more than he already had.

“You were gonna save a-all the food for me,” she mumbled, clutching at Yor’s sweater with a tiny hand. “So I went away.”

“What?” he whispered - then shook his head. There was no point in engaging any further, he reminded himself. For all he knew, this could be some sort of elaborate mental breakdown that had been triggered without his knowledge, and all of it could very well be an illusion - the only way to be sure might be to report immediately to-

Anya ran at him and wrapped her little arms around his neck again, and his mind wiped itself clean for the second time. 

Ice sank claws into his heart as tears prickled and welled in his eyes. The world seemed to melt away, leaving only the small, trembling form trying to burrow further against him. 

“Anya got away from the shine-tists,” she sniffed, clinging to him. “I found somebody nicer than them just like you said and h-he took me home and he said he’d be my papa but he wasn’t very nice. He kept telling Anya y-you were dead.”

“I don’t understand,” he stared at her, eyes full and glistening.

“And I didn’t let him hurt me!” she shook her head hard against his shoulder. “I r-ran and hid and I did my hardest and- and he’d get mad at me when I cried a lot or when I was sleepy in the day or when I was angry so I ran away again.”

“How are you here,” he cried softly, his face turning to bury into her little shoulder. “There’s no way- and you’re just the same…and all this time, I thought…” 

I thought you were dead, he cradled the back of her little head in his hand, pulling her closer. I thought you woke up later that night and walked off because goodness forbade you ever listened to me and I couldn’t find you and I looked for weeks and I couldn’t stop crying because maybe if I’d woken up I would’ve been able to stop you. I’ve been trying to make up for getting you killed for years, now. Years. 

I can’t stay here. I need to get back to work. I have to go away - far, far away… but you’re my little girl. I want to leave everything behind to stay with you.

A hand came to rest over his hair just as he twitched to move away, and a sob broke past his lips. He clung to the little bundle in his arms almost as desperately as she held onto him.

“I didn’t want to intervene,” a soft voice spoke, reminding him of the third presence in the room. “But this is real. She’s here, I promise you that.”

He struggled to lower his voice, tears streaming down his cheeks as he bit back another sob.

Yor crawled closer and reached out to Anya’s hair, playing with it and running her fingers through it to work out the tangles. “You were all she could talk about for a while after we settled in here,” she smiled, even though neither of them saw it. “She could tell me that you hung the moon and the stars, and I’d believe her. There’s so much she wants to tell you and so many games she wants to play with you. I’ve never even heard of half of them before.”

Twilight peeked up at her, large teal eyes glistening. He sniffled, visibly struggling to calm himself.

Yor smiled wider, rubbing away wetness from her own eye. “She misses you, Loid. I don’t know what it was that took her from you - I don’t even know if it matters all that much how or why she’s here if it was impossible for her to be, but she’s here now, and you are everything good in the world to her. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He shook his head, hiding his face in Anya’s little shoulder again. “You don’t understand,” he whispered, shakily. “It isn’t that simple.”

She let out a soft breath. “Maybe I don’t,” she shrugged, her fingers gently caressing Anya’s back until they came near Twilight’s arm. She drew her hand back. “But I had a thought a few moments ago. I’d like to tell you about it, if you want to hear.”

“Okay,” he murmured, sounding almost like a lost child.

“You said there was no logical explanation for her being here,” she said softly, tracing little shapes into the ends of her sweater. “I could guess why you’d feel that way, but it made me wonder - the most impossible situation I could find myself in would be if I woke up one day and found that my mother was with me again, after all these years.”

He flinched, gazing at her.

She smiled wistfully at her invisible doodles. “I’d question my sanity too, and it would affect a lot of things in my life,” she shook her head, almost at herself. “But I would give anything to have her back as solid and real as Anya is right now. I’d be happy to figure out my way around things from scratch if it meant I’d see her every morning and kiss her goodnight every single day for the rest of my life.”

She looked up at him, and her lips trembled for a split second before she forced a bigger smile. “I’d do anything for the chance to tell her I loved her while she could hear it, even if she thought I was just saying it because I broke another mug. Nothing would matter to me more than her.”

Twilight sat up straight, his eyes wide as he listened. “Yor,” he whispered, as though trying to reach out to her.

She let out a soft laugh, waving a hand in front of her face as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m just rambling again,” she sniffed, grinning. “My point was just- if Anya matters to you, then she matters to you, you know? If she’s here despite all the odds, then she’s here. You’re allowed to put her first.”

He blinked back tears. “But there’s so much that doesn’t make sense,” his voice was hoarse. “What if this really is a dream? What if it’s real ? I don’t know my way forward,” he choked out, uncaring of the voice in his head that screamed at him to stop talking .

“Then…you take it one step at a time, I suppose,” she mused. Twilight latched onto her voice as if it were a lifeline. “Do what’s right in this moment, then the next thing in the next moment.”

“She’s-“ he stopped short. She’s better off without me. “She’s better off with you, here.”

Anya let out an angry little sound of protest, sniffling and trying to hold on tighter. 

Yor’s lips curved into a small, sad smile. “She knows you well. Before you woke up, she told me that sometimes you do things that hurt you because you’re trying to look out for her. But you aren’t always right.”

He startled, glancing at Anya in his arms.

“I don’t know what she was talking about,” he mumbled. 

“Things must be different now,” she pressed on, gently. “Letting her go is going to hurt the both of you.”

He let out a slow, heavy breath, his fingers automatically carding through soft pink hair until Anya’s sorrowful trembling slowed, then stopped. 

Twilight took a quiet moment, resting his arms around his little charge.

“I wanted so badly to watch her grow up,” he let himself take in the sight of the little girl properly for the first time that day. “For a lot of the time that I thought she was gone - once I could spare a thought in that direction again, that is.” Ever since I found my friends and then lost them for the last time. “I wanted to teach her all sorts of things. She’s easily distracted, but she’s so smart and I’m so proud of her,” he murmured. “I wanted to tell her I- …well.”

Anya blinked, peeking up at him.

Twilight gazed at her, and let his lips curve into a tiny, tender smile.

“I love you,” he cupped her little cheek. “I want to be your friend, Anya. More than anything in the world.”

I want you to be my daughter, but I’ll let you navigate that bit on your own. 

Anya jumped, her little mouth opening wide in surprise. Behind her, Yor choked out a happy little sound, furiously rubbing her cheek dry with a fist.

“Best friends?” Anya squeaked, curling both tiny fists into Twilight’s shirt.

He huffed, smiling wider. “Best friends.”

Anya let out a tiny cry of delight and launched herself at his face, wrapping her arms around his head and scrambling to climb onto his shoulders. Twilight blinked in mild shock at her agility - then bit back a grin when memories of their little selves chasing each other in a dingy basement during practice tugged at his heart.

Maybe I’m allowed this, after all . 

Anya squealed, pointing at Yor. “She’s Anya’s best friend, too!”

Yor giggled, her cheeks flushing red. “As of about thirty minutes ago.”

“Will you be my mama now?” Anya chirped from atop her perch. Twilight and Yor spluttered - one in surprise, the other in embarrassment.

“I uh,” she hid her face in her hands. “I don’t- I don’t know about that…”

“Whyyy?” she wheedled.

Yor squeaked and curled up where she sat. “I can’t say!”

Anya whined, but hushed herself when Twilight patted her knee. “Do you want to live here with her?” he asked softly, tilting his head up at her.

She scrunched up her button nose. “I wanna live with you! But I want her to be my mama.”

There was another, higher-pitched squeak behind hands almost hidden in red sleeves, and Twilight suppressed a laugh. “Mamas usually live with their kids, you know,” he pointed out.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, as though reminded of the fact - and instantly, he knew he had set himself up.

“Then you can live here too!” she beamed at him, proud of herself. 

“Okay, that’s enough out of you,” he hauled her off his shoulders and into his arms, lightly scrunching his fingers in her sides and holding her down when she howled in loud, giggly protest at the tickles. 

Yor giggled softly, tickling her little foot when she kicked it out in an attempt to escape, and laughed in pure bliss when it earned her a tiny scream of betrayal.

Twilight wrapped the blanket he had been lent around Anya’s sleeping little form on the couch, tucking her in for the nap she had fallen into after her mug of hot cocoa and an hour of the bursts of hyperactivity he had only remembered in his dreams. He lowered his head to hers, planting a tiny, loving kiss to her temple.

Yor sat at a slight distance on the rug, watching them with a tiny smile. Twilight knelt by Anya’s side, gazing at her in soft disbelief still and murmuring to himself as his hand smoothed the blanket over her back. She slept without a care in the world, flat on her stomach and limbs splayed out like a little frog. 

His other hand rose to rub at his eyes, and immediately he took a deep breath and moved away from the couch to give her space. 

“Don’t mind me,” he said, voice thick with emotion. He curled up, folding his arms over his knees and resting his cheek on them.

Yor quietly crawled closer, and he startled and turned his head toward her when her warm hand reached out tentatively to his shoulder. “Take your time,” she moved to rub light, slow circles on his back. 

“I’m sorry about all this,” he watched as her brows knit in confusion at his words. “You had very different expectations from today, and-“

“No, don’t apologize!” she waved her hands almost in a panic. “I’m glad for everything. She’s the most precious little girl I could ever know and I still can’t believe she likes me as much as she does.”

“She loves you,” he said, softly. “She meant it when she told you.”

Yor’s cheeks reddened. “S-still, I meant I’m just happy you have her back now.”

He rubbed at the corner of an eye. “I suppose you must be curious about what happened,” he offered, his mind throwing together a quick story to supply her with. “Or perhaps you have your own assumptions.”

She averted her eyes, suddenly self conscious. “I’m not smart enough to assume anything,” she mumbled, then shook it off with a tiny shake of her head. “I just know you love her, that you lost her, and now you have her back. The rest isn’t my business.”

He blinked at her in surprise, letting the fresh lies fade from his tongue. “I wouldn’t say you weren’t smart,” he told her. “To me, you’re just too wise to assume things without knowing enough.”

Yor squeaked. “O-okay,” her voice reflected her disbelief, yet a smile blossomed on her lips. “Either way, I didn’t really give it any thought. Anya was in a state, and once she felt better, there was just so much to talk about.” Her eyes shone as she met his. “I wish you hadn’t missed it.”

“Me too,” his voice trembled. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I haven’t done this in a very long time.”

“Cried?” she caught on, and Twilight nodded. A dam had cracked open in his heart; the practiced expressions of feeling he had manipulated out of himself over the years whenever they were required had always been open and shut, completely within his control, yet now the smallest glimpse of the small child snoozing on the couch or the slightest reference to the six days years ago proved to be enough to send his emotions haywire. 

“I’ll get better at controlling it,” he half shrugged. 

She shook her head. “You thought you had lost your child for good, Loid. It’s okay to be a bit of a mess right now.”

She’s not my child, his mind supplied, but the thought died as quickly as it came. There was no arguing with the instincts he seemed to function on around the girl - the desperate urge to hold her and show her off and set her on her feet to let her run off doing her own thing all rolled in one had made itself quite at home within him, despite the utter disapproval from the part of himself that had been honed and built to keep everyone out, let nothing in. 

He resisted the urge to pick at himself.

“You look scared,” she murmured, her hand pausing over the small of his back. 

He was - oh, how he was, yet somehow not because she had been able to see through the masks of his facial expression every time he put one on. Twilight considered for a moment, but his exhaustion made the decision for him, setting his thoughts free to escape from his lips.

“I can’t afford for this to not be real this time,” he willed his voice to remain level. “I can’t lose her again. I didn’t think it would hurt more than…” than losing everybody else, he shook his head to himself, then soldiered on. “I don’t know if I can afford for this to be real, either. She was my only wish for the longest time, but now that she’s here, I don’t know what to do.”

“Stay,” Yor smiled. Her hand moved to his hair, her fingers carding through it gently the way his own had done to calm Anya moments ago. “All her happiness takes root in the fact that you’re here with her. There was no mistaking it with the way she told me how much she missed you, and how she wanted to spend her birthday with you but she didn’t know where to find you, or how you were her favorite person.”

Fresh tears sprang to his eyes, and he made no move to wipe them away as he stared at Yor.

“The most important part of it, though,” she murmured, gazing right back, “was when she tried to tell you when we’d just gotten here that she did everything you taught her to do. She was scared of telling you herself because she thought she’d make you worry, so she asked me for help - it’s why I can tell you any of this,” she smiled. “She wanted you to know that she tried her best never to let anyone hurt her, and because you had told her anyone that hated her was being stupid, she tried to remember what you said over what seems to me like three or four homes that she’s run away from.”

Yor’s voice wobbled, and she ducked her head to rub at her eyes. “S-sorry. It’s just - from everything she’s said, it seems like you’ve saved her from a lot. I’d tried to get her to rest before but she was terrified you’d be gone when she woke up. All she wants from you is for you to stay, so all you have to do is not try to run again,” she said gently, yet pointedly. “Not that I would let you if you tried.”

He covered his face in his hands, his mind reeling from the revelation. “I won’t,” he vowed. “I’ll go wherever she goes this time.” He looked up at her, his cheeks wiped dry and a soft, determined light in his eyes.

“I believe in you,” she smiled, an easy, gentle thing, and peace washed over him at the sight of her.

Something warm yet entirely unfamiliar twisted in Twilight’s chest, and his mind gave up on keeping track of his many firsts through the hours.

“I don’t know how to thank you enough for everything,” he said softly. “I…do have a proposal, though.”

“Y-yes?”

“We do this together,” he searched her eyes for the slightest sign of disapproval. “I can’t take her away from you.”

Instead, he found pure joy. Yor gasped, gazing at him in soft awe. “Are you sure?”

He nodded earnestly, unable to take his eyes off her. “I have a lot to work out, but I’m more sure of this than I am of most anything at this point,” he said. “Your convenience will be the driving factor, but there’s no rush, of course.”

She bit her lip, fidgeting, then ducked her head. “I had thought of something like it back on the bus,” she confessed shakily, leaning into his warmth when he rested his hand over hers. “When you said you were doing this alone. I was so fond of you because you were so kind, and I imagined if I were to co-parent with another person, I'd have liked them to be someone like you. I just never thought…” she trailed off, curling up.

Twilight huffed softly. “Neither did I,” he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “But I couldn’t imagine a different outcome now, or a better one. If you’ll have us, then-“

“Yes,” she smiled, breathless and glancing up at him. “I’d love it more than anything.”

Twilight raised a hand to her cheek, caressing it tenderly with his thumb over it for a brief moment. A radiant little smile grew on his lips. “I look forward to it, Yor.”

Pink dusted her face again as she watched him, almost transfixed. She leaned forward, her eyes lowered, and closed them the moment her lips brushed the lightest of kisses to his cheek, near the corner of his lips.

Twilight took a sharp breath, and she drew back. “I’m sorry!” she wrung her hands. “I don’t know what came over me, I- I just wanted to- uh, I don’t know…I don’t know what I was doing,” her hands flew up to her face.

“Don’t,” he whispered, catching her hands at the wrists. “I get what you mean.”

She startled, red eyes wide and gleaming as she watched him. “You do?”

He nodded, faint red blossoming in his cheeks. “I think so, at least.”

“Sh-show me,” she breathed, and Twilight leaned in, his hand cupping the side of Yor’s head with an almost feather-light touch. He closed his eyes and the space between their lips, pressing against hers in a tender, chaste, yet unyieldingly firm seal of affection.

Yor’s lips parted in a broad smile at the kiss, and she promptly curled up into herself to hide the flush that now painted red down to her neck. Twilight pressed another little kiss to the crown of her head, then wrapped an arm around her to lean her against himself. She let out a soft sigh in contentment as his fingers lazily caressed her shoulder.

“We’ll talk arrangements later,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “You look like you could use some rest.”

“You especially,” her hand found his own again. “You must be exhausted.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, resting his other hand on her head to give her gentle, regular headpats as they curled up against each other.

It would be an unprecedented step, with almost too many variables hanging threats like daggers over his objectives and ready to pose unpredictable challenges in the long run. Twilight closed his eyes and amended his decision from the bus - it would not hurt to tread his way ahead by his girls’ side, for as long as they would have him.

Small hands and feet pressed onto them minutes later. Anya sprawled across their laps with blissful abandon for the rest of her nap, and Loid Forger smiled as wide as little Advisor had the night Anya draped herself over him before they both fell asleep.