First I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone for you amazing support and comments from last chapter! I was really afraid that the chaos was too much to put onto the page, but it looks like it managed to come across well and you guys just THRIVED in the chaos!

I dont know how many chapters like that I have in me (it took a LOT of planning), but now that I've gone and made a gigantic mess, my next challenge will be picking up the pieces... 😂 Dug myself a big hole there, didnt I

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"Damian!" Anya called his name through the stairwell, but it appeared that Damian was faster than she thought, and he had already left the building. She leapt down the stairs, even taking more than a few at a time, and all the while her heart echoed loudly in her chest, in her ears, and she was driven by a single fear.

Please, Anya sent a silent prayer to the heavens, please don't take him away from me.

Was her chest tight from fear, or from breathlessness? Why did she feel like she had just been punched in the chest?

Bond's vision didn't come true after all. Her father had survived the night, because she was able to interrupt the scene, and cause a distraction, but the fear she had been swallowing down for the past hour bubbled to the surface and leaked out of her in dark, ominous waves.

She didn't even know what to think, or what to do, but her legs urged her on, and soon Anya stood outside panting, searching frantically for her dark-haired boyfriend. What if he left already? What if Hugh had taken him back to school? To the police station? What if he was on his way to destroy her family right now?

Anya desperately shook the thoughts off of her. She couldn't think like that right now. She had to have faith in Damian, that he would at least give her some time to explain, before he would do something as drastic as destroy her life forever - because she couldn't forget how supportive Damian had been in the past, how much he had done to help her, or that he had also taken the time to learn her secrets, and accept them, and accept her for who she was.

She couldn't forget that he had literally been training with her mother to learn self-defence, specifically so that he could get stronger, so that he could help her if he needed to again. Anya often minimised how much danger she was in on a daily basis, but Damian didn't forget. Instead, he was preparing for the worst. He was already doing what he could to help her - who's to say that he wouldn't still hear her out?

She burst out of the front doors to the building, and scanned the scene in front of her quickly. The orange lamplight bathed everything in a dusky glow, and in only a second, she spotted the familiar outline of her boyfriend hurrying away into the night.

"Damian!" she called out, hoping that he would hear her, hoping that her desperation would carry through her voice. "Please wait!"

The silhouette stopped, and Anya pumped her legs harder to catch up with him quickly, but as she neared him, her foot slipped, and her heart leapt in her throat before she could even cry out.

A loud gasp escaped her, and she braced herself for the fall, expecting to hit the solid pavement, and for a fraction of a second, she hung helplessly in the air as she fell forwards -

- until someone grabbed her arm and pulled her in, and before she knew it, her face pressed against his chest, and he supported her entire weight against him.

Time stopped, and Anya thought back to the time when she had slipped on this exact pavement, and fell into his arms, back before she ever realised that she was in love with him.

She let out a shaky breath, and dragged her gaze up to his. Orange light from the streetlights behind him cast his face in shadow, but she could still see the fear and confusion on his face, reflecting her own feelings right back to her.

"Damian," she panted, her breath billowing in clouds around her in the winter air, and at the sound of his name Damian jolted, like he had been hit with electricity. "Can we talk? Please?"

The expression on his face was unreadable as he stared at her. Even his thoughts were a jumbled mess of sharp static, and it was hard to extricate a single thought from the mess that was his mind. In that long moment, Anya felt the fear rise in her tenfold. Did he hate her after all? Was he going to break up with her?

His hand was just as sweaty as hers, but his face remained as impassive as ever, and the fear only built in her chest. Anya swallowed. Without knowing exactly what he was thinking, she had no idea what to say first. Should she apologise? Beg for mercy? Or jump into an explanation?

Anya opened her mouth, intending to try one of the three, but something else came out instead.

"Why did you do that?" she gasped, and her breath billowed in clouds around her.

Damian didn't let go of Anya, didn't dare look away as his mouth opened and closed silently, trying to find the words. Green eyes stared into gold, both swimming with emotions that neither knew how to express. Both of her hands pressed up against his chest, while he held her elbow gently, with his other hand resting on her waist, their faces so close that she could feel his breath joining hers in the space between them.

"Because…" he gulped. "You tripped."

He gave her waist a final squeeze before letting her go, and took a step back from her, only putting a few inches of space between them.

He looked down, and Anya felt her chest constrict, like he had broken some kind of spell that had lingered between them, but Damian continued to move downwards, until he knelt at her feet. Anya held her breath, but he only reached out, and started to tie the laces of her shoes.

"You shouldn't have run after me," he grumbled, and Anya couldn't move while he secured her boots properly in place. "You could have hurt yourself."

This boy. Tears formed in her eyes as she looked at him. Anxiety rolled off him in waves, and yet he still caught her, still tried to look after her in his small way, and it was far more than she deserved.

"That's not what I meant," Anya managed to force the words out of her even though it hurt to breathe. "You could have told them, but you didn't. You protected us. Why?"

Damian stood slowly, keeping eye contact with her the whole time, and Anya wondered if she had said the wrong thing. It was as if her heart had leapt into her throat, blocking her airways, so that it was hard to breathe. She felt like he was waiting for her to say something, but she had no idea what, and all she could do was stand and stare, waiting for him to tell her that he was done with her, that he never wanted to see her again.

Anya closed her eyes, and waited for the sword to fall, bracing herself for the inevitable. The tumultuous seas had finally caught up to her, and once again Anya felt that she could drown in it all, and she readied herself to sink further into her guilt, to never come back up for air again.

For a moment, Anya was back in the lab, in the tank of water that had imprisoned her so mercilessly, floating in her own despair and hopelessness. That dark, dark place that dulled her senses wore down her will.

Damian's voice was gentle. The only bubble of clarity in her waterlogged mind.

"You know why."

Anya's eyes flashed open, her eyelashes wet with unshed tears, and suddenly she was back in the capsule, when he floated before her, desperately trying to free her, and the ripples of movement in the water briefly woke her from her drugged state. His voice reached her like light in the dark, like hands in the water, holding her in his grasp that was at once tender and strong.

"Does this mean you're not breaking up with me?"

Under the lamplight, his ears turned a burning red.

"Break up with you?!" Damian stammered, completely disoriented. "Why would you even say that?!"

"Because… my mother…" Her voice faltered, but she couldn't tear her eyes from her blushing boyfriend.

Damian reeled back. "You thought that-" He wheezed, and then he shook his head in outright disbelief. "Unbelievable. I can't believe you thought I would do that."

Although his confusion was endearing (not that she would ever tell him that), it did little to ease Anya's anxiety. Her emotions had become a tangled mess in her body, ugly and swirling, and before she could stop herself, they sloshed into her voice and fell out of her mouth.

"Aren't you mad?" She blurted, and at the sight of his incredulous face, her anxiety only built, until it escaped from her as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Damian, I've been lying to you this whole time about my parents! Aren't you angry with me?"

For some reason that Anya couldn't explain, she wanted him to be angry. She wanted him to be absolutely furious with her. She wanted him to scream at her, and make her feel as low as she already felt. It didn't make any sense, and the thoughts were so vicious that it scared her, but if it meant that she could keep the guilt at bay, then she wouldn't fight it. She didn't deserve any kindness from him.

"Of course I'm angry!" Damian roared into the air, and then he visibly took a deep breath in,, forced his shoulders to relax, and forced his voice to a whisper. "This is literally crazy! But I'm not angry at you! It's just a lot to take in, like, I knew about you and Adrian, but then there's your mother, your uncle, even your dog -"

Damian's voice faded into the darkness, and from the fuzziness of his thoughts, Anya could sense that things were starting to bubble up to the surface of his mind, and she held her tongue, afraid of what he was going to say, and at the same time, knowing that his anger was justified.

His hands shook, and the way that he held his body reminded Anya of a fizzing firework, the fuse lit and the body about to explode at any second. He nearly vibrated from the effort of holding back all of his survival instincts. She recognised it all too well: it was exactly the way she felt when she found out about Damian's father.

Damian's hoarse voice interrupted her memory. "Because you knew, right? You knew about them… the whole time…"

Anya gulped, and nodded slowly. She couldn't hide it from him any more.

"Yeah," she confessed. "I did."

The confession paralysed her. Suddenly Damian knew more about her family than she had ever bargained for, had found out too much in too short a space of time, and she could feel the pressure of it weighing on the both of them…

And as angry as she was at herself, angry on his behalf, the thought of the pressure breaking both of them made her feel sick. They had to be stronger than this. She had to let herself hope that they could both ride this wave, and survive the other side of it.

"Why did you do that?"

"You know why."

Anya tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Was it too much to hope for? That Damian's love was big enough to protect them both?

She hoped it could be true, but even Anya knew that Damian must have a limit. Would he realise that there was still yet more to uncover? Would he figure out that there was one more person in the family who had a secret just as big as hers? And if he eventually found out about Twilight, the last secret in her family… What would he do then?

Damian slowed, as something else occurred to him.

It almost hurt to breathe. Was this it? Did Damian reach the last piece of the puzzle? Had he finally decided that it was all too much for him?

She braced herself for the blowback, but it wasn't what she expected.

"Is she going to kill me?"

Anya didn't even speak for a second - she was too stunned, until her senses came back to her.

"What? No!" Anya exclaimed, holding her palms out defensively in front of her - and though it didn't make any sense, she started laughing.

"This is not funny!" Damian cried out as Anya laughed even harder, but he softened at her obvious amusement. He couldn't stay stressed or angry, not while she was like that.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Anya gasped and wiped a tear from her eye. "Just, you find out about my Mama's real job and that's your first thought?"

Damian pouted and crossed his arms in a sulk. "Don't laugh! You'd be worried about yourself too if you found out your future mother-in-law literally killed people as a side hustle!"

At that, Anya stopped laughing.

"What… did you just say?"

Damian stiffened, and avoided eye contact with her. "It… it doesn't matter. Never mind," and he tried to turn away from her, to move forward without her, but Anya pulled him back before he could take another step into the night.

"Damian!" She tried to get him to turn towards her but he resisted, but under the lamplight Anya could see how the dark blush had spread down the back of his neck.

Did she hear that right? Did he just say what she thought he did?

"Anya," Damian croaked, and squeezed her hand tighter, and finally, he turned to face her. "What, exactly, does it mean to be a part of your family?"

Fear gripped her once again, and Anya couldn't move for the never-ending anxiety that coursed through her. "What do you mean?"

The lit fuse reached the firework, and Damian cracked, as words exploded from him in a rapid-fire burst.

"I saw your mother leap up a building! I saw her hold a kid by the throat and threaten him, just to get information on you! I saw her insane strength when we went into the lab, she gave me tips on how to use the pistol, and even knew things about the model and make of the locks she smashed on the way. I saw her threaten people with no fear or regard for her own life and at times I honestly believed that she had the capacity to kill. For some reason, her being an assassin is the only reason that any of that makes sense."

Damian ran his hand over his face, dragging his breath in the spaces between his fingers, clearly trying to process all of the pieces together, but Anya couldn't let it end like this. She had to say something.

"Look, I know that what my parents… what my mother does is unusual, but she isn't a bad person, I swear!" she pleaded.

"I know that," Damian let out a ragged breath. "In a way that makes it harder to understand, because your mother is amazing. She's so kind and warm and she does everything possible to make me feel welcome in your home, and if she was a bad person you would know, right? You would be able to hear it in her thoughts…" He paused as another thought came to him. "She is terrifying though."

Anya suppressed another laugh. "She is."

Anya hadn't even realised that they had started walking - to where, Anya wasn't sure - but Anya felt the hesitation in Damian's steps, and hoped that at least the cold winter air could keep his anger from getting any more heated.

"I'm surprised about your uncle. I gotta say, I didn't see that coming, but that's fine right? The secret police are supposed to protect Ostania. So it's fine. It's fine," Damian repeated, more to himself, and Anya held herself back from interrupting him. "There's nothing inherently wrong with being in the secret police, so it's fine."

Anya guessed that there was a strong possibility that in this case, "fine" meant 'I am not going to fight this and honestly it would be easier to pretend I didn't hear it.'

Then Damian started to pick up the pace. His steps became firmer, more assured, and Anya felt grateful that he had tied her laces for her earlier. If they still flapped at her feet, she would have tripped again in no time.

"What you said about your dog makes absolutely no sense, but I know it's not like you to just make something like that up. So it must be real but… "

After another few seconds, Damian spoke again. "I knew about Adrian. Him being a telepath is old news, but it's weird that he's been somehow scouted by your uncle? Did I get that right? And now they're both working together in the SSS?" He shook his head. "Actually, nevermind. That's not important right now."

Seems pretty important to me, Anya thought to herself, but she pressed her lips firmly together, and said nothing, letting Damian work through his thoughts on his own.

They kept walking in that sort of companionable silence while Damian mulled over his thoughts, and though Anya could have read his mind throughout and kept an eye on what he was thinking, she didn't feel like she should. The day had been stressful for the both of them, and it was the least she could do to give Damian some privacy to process it for himself.

Eventually, Damian squeezed her hand, and tried to get her attention once again. "Look, I'm really happy that you invited me to dinner. Your parents are great, and I can't tell you how nice it is just to be at your house instead of at the dorms, but today was… a lot."

Anya's heart squeezed painfully in her chest as she looked at him. He was really trying so hard for her, and it made her feel that there could be some hope for the both of them after all.

"You know, you're handling all of this awfully well," Anya ventured carefully, and her gaze looked him up and down, as if she were half-expecting that Damian would start to freak out if she drew attention to how strange the situation was.

Damian shrugged. "I mean, it's not the first crazy thing I've heard this year. It's not even the second!" He let out a tired laugh, and then his shoulders sagged with a deep sigh. "When I first saw your mum, I was terrified of her."

"Really?" Anya exclaimed, and then after a moment, she nodded in agreement with him. "Actually, yeah. Makes sense." She had never felt a reason to be afraid of her own mother, but she could understand how Yor could definitely come across as scary to others.

And then Damian sucked in a large breath, slowed to a stop, and turned to face Anya fully. "It feels like a lot of crazy things have been happening lately when we're together."

"Sorry," Anya grimaced. "I had no idea it would turn out like that." She squeezed Damian's hand even harder, trying everything she could to hold on to him, to communicate through her touch that even with everything that had just happened, the last thing she wanted was to let him go.

"No, I imagine you didn't." Damian sighed again. "I suppose I should apologise to your family for running out like that."

Anya tilted her head up to the side, listening, and then shook her head, signalling a no. "They're still arguing," she noted, and then flashed Damian an apologetic glance. "It's probably better if we leave them to it just now."

She tried not to be too disappointed. Tonight was supposed to be about him meeting the family as her official boyfriend, and bringing him more into the family, but if they couldn't go back to the apartment yet, then they had very few options. But she didn't want the night to end quite yet, or for Damian to leave while emotions still ran high for the both of them…

Anya brightened, and turned to Damian with a glint in her eye. "Actually, I have another idea," she grinned at him. "Have you ever been to the Christmas market?"

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Next week: We'll join the remains of the Briar-Forgers to see how they got on... (Yuri's still there ofc, so you can expect more chaos)

I wanted this chapter to be longer, but unfortunately I had a few setbacks this week including being struck down with flu, so I'm afraid you'll have to wait until next week to see the rest of it (sorry!)

I'll aim to post the next chapter on Saturday :)