Chapter Text
They start like this.
The Forger household is quiet, and the streets are calm in the aftermath. They still hear their neighbor's TV blaring loudly through their thin walls, but it's the most peace they've gotten in the past few days.
The little family find themselves under the covers in Loid's room. Bond sleeps at the foot of the bed.
It's quiet in Anya's head, too.
Her papa is a spy, and her mama is an assassin. They saved the world tonight.
Anya doesn't understand everything, but she doesn't have to.
"Papa."
"Yes, Anya?"
The little girl bites her lip, and her cheeks flush.
"Can Anya stay?"
The spy and the assassin exchange a quick glance, a slight shift in their position.
"What do you mean, Anya?"
Anya knows the mission is finished, and that her mama and papa will have another mission soon, and her home will be dismantled.
"Anya will be good, Anya promises. She will study, and will do chores, and will not leave her toys in the hallway. A-And when baby brother comes, Anya will be a good sister."
She's my daughter, the esper hears her Papa's mind say, and her Mama pulls her close.
"We're a family, Anya-san," her Mama says, petting her hair. "We love you. We're not going anywhere."
And Anya is crying because her parents are the best and her home is the best and her dog is the best and her Sy-on boy and Becky is the best and she's the luckiest.
"We love you, Anya."
She's never had that before.
"Anya loves you too."
Loid waits until his daughter is asleep, her arms wrapped tightly around his.
"Yor," he starts, and the beautiful woman across him hums in response. "I know this isn't how we expected things to go."
"No," she agrees.
"We weren't supposed to get attached, and-"
He takes a deep breath.
"You can still change your mind. The mission is over. You're safe. You can go back to the way things were. I won't force you to do anything. You should live your life the way you want."
"Loid-san," and she's looking at him, her ruby eyes soft and kind. "Do you want me to go?"
"No," he admits without thinking. "I can't stand the thought of losing you, Yor."
"You won't," and her voice is firm, but her hands are gentle as she guides it over the sleeping girl and onto her belly, the swell warm and full. Three more months. "I'm home."
When Loid kisses her, it is not desperate and not apologetic. Not even an attempt to prove something.
It's just what it is. A simple kiss shared between lovers.
The Thorn Princess, who had spent years fighting for a country that was never hers, and had never been kind.
Agent Twilight, who had fought and killed for his nation, and had only been a name.
Their world had been nothing but war and lies, and the truth was hard.
But they have, and will continue to survive as long as they're together.
***
The world is quiet. A sleepy Saturday morning, no more than 7 AM. The sun peeks through the window, and the breeze is gentle and cool.
Yor's chest is heavy with a familiar weight—a sighing, squirming, gurgling weight that has been keeping her awake enough to watch the sunrise for a few months now.
It's colder in Nortica, even during summer. But she doesn't mind. Loid had made sure to double-insulate their new house, and she is grateful.
It's not the townhouse she had grown to love, but it is still a home. A bit bigger, and a lot farther from the city.
(But it has a garden, and Yor is excited.)
(So is Bond, who loves rolling in his own patch of grass.)
("And Sy-on boy will come visit!" Anya cheers.)
She closes her eyes in relief. Inhales the smell of linen and soap, and the faintest trace of baby powder. Presses her lips against a small forehead, and a soft whimper is her response.
She hums a little melody, a tune from her childhood, a song that's long forgotten. One that never fails to calm Loid down and makes Anya very sleepy.
It's a song from a different time. From a different mother.
The baby hiccups and Yor can't help but laugh at his little scrunched face, milk-drunk and happy.
"Will you let Mama sleep now, little one?" She coos tiredly, and his lips pull into a smile.
It's a small thing, that gummy smile, but the warmth in her heart is bigger than her fatigue.
"You're very handsome, like your Papa," she huffs, and a tiny hand latches onto her pinkie, a strong grip. Owlish blue eyes blink away tears.
The sound of Anya's feet running down the hall is not subtle, Loid scolding her lightly before the door creaks open.
"Did we wake you, love?" Yor turns her head to see a handsome man with a sleepy smile.
"We're awake," she assures, and he leans in to kiss her, his morning stubble tickling her chin.
"Morning, Mama!" Squeals the little girl, bouncing up and down.
"Anya wanted breakfast," he explains with a fond and apologetic smile as he sits beside her. "I tried to convince her to wait, but-"
"Is baby brother awake, too?" Anya asks, climbing up the bed and leaning on Loid's leg. "I want to show him my dress for your weeding, mama."
"It's wedding, Anya," Loid chuckles, and Yor's cheek warm.
Uprooting their entire life and starting over in a different country was easy. Adjusting to a normal life, however, was another story.
Loid found a job teaching at a university, his credentials and fluency in a dozen languages were more than enough to guarantee a tenure.
Yor is still getting used to not having her old job. Instead, she fills her days with gardening and sewing and cooking.
And it's nice.
Loid re-proposed, and Yor asked him to wait until the baby was born because she would very much like to wear a nice dress for her special day. For real, this time.
"Can I hold him?" Loid asks, and she nods easily, not because her arms were cramping.
It's amusing to see the former spy, the very picture of grace and confidence, turn into a pile of mush when he holds his son, fumbling and stuttering.
"H-Hello, there, uh, baby."
Anya sighs, staring intently at the gurgling baby. "He thinks you're scary, Papa."
"He doesn't."
"Does, too!"
The little baby shares a glance with his older sister before wailing as if to prove her point, and the spy jumps in alarm.
"I didn't- What did I do wrong?"
"You did nothing, Loid-san," Yor coos as she takes the baby back, bouncing him lightly. "He's just a bit fussy today."
Ignoring Anya's shaking head, Loid instead finds himself captivated by the gentleness of the former assassin.
How her hands cradle the child carefully, her smile kind and patient. How her hair falls in her face, and how she blows air to the side to move the stubborn lock.
Loid helps her with that, tucking her hair back and cradling her jaw for a quick peck. He doesn't have to turn to feel the young girl's gaze on him.
"Ewwww," Anya groans, sticking her tongue out, and Loid laughs. "Mama and Papa lovey dovey."
Yor chuckles, the baby boy content in her arms.
"What do you say, Mama? Can we make pancakes?"
"Of course, Anya," she grins, swinging her legs off the bed. "Let's go make some pancakes."
Yor doesn't think about the Garden anymore.
Loid doesn't hear from WISE anymore.
But the former spy and assassin will always look over their shoulder, and check every shadow. It's second nature at this point, and their minds are still wired to notice every tick.
They have so much more to lose now.
But with that, comes an unwavering strength, a burning courage, a fire in their belly.
So they will continue to survive like this.
With a hungry little girl, a happy dog, a loving husband, a natural mother, and a fussy baby boy.
The Forgers, home at last.