Saturday arrived quickly, and with it, so did Damian.

Recovering at home was so much more boring than she thought it would be, so when Saturday came, she glimmered with excitement.

He had been holding back from visiting her during the weekdays since he had already missed so many assignments and had to catch up, but she was happy that she was going to get a visit to break up her mundane week. With Yor's help, Anya had gotten to the point that she was able to change her bandages on her own. However, because of the sedative effects of the painkillers, she was advised to rest as much as possible.

Anya spent the last couple of days mostly watching TV on the couch, while either Yor or Loid stayed home to keep an eye on her, and took it in turns to go to work. She had also somehow managed to eat a lot of peanut ice cream.

The increased radius of her powers was also a problem. After a few days of constant noise, she was more tired than usual, woke more in the night, and found it difficult to drift off into sleep, but she did her best to just ignore the heightened rabble.

It took her years to master her powers secretly when she was younger - she was confident that she would be able to dial it down in no trouble at all.

In the meantime, when peoples thoughts buzzed around her, Anya actually found it more confusing to interpret them. It just sounded like constant noise to her. Sure, sometimes a thought or two would shine through the fog, but it happened less frequently than before.

Her parents didn't know that she had been trying to train her mind while lying on the sofa all day, but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. They were already so worried about her as it was, and Anya felt really guilty about adding more to their already large to-do lists. She had to do as much as possible on her own so that she wouldn't be a burden to them anymore.

Still, she would have liked something more to do on the long days in the apartment.

So it was a nice surprise when Damian called on Friday night to let them know he would be coming round the next day.

With all her missed schoolwork!

Anya pouted while her parents weren't looking, and turned the volume up on the TV. Her favourite episodes of spy wars blared from the screen, and she half-hoped that Damian would cancel so that she didn't have to do school work.

When the doorbell did ring, Yor clapped her hands together in delight. "I'll get it!" she called, and went to buzz him up.

Anya sat up to welcome him, keeping her movements slow as she was instructed to do. It wouldn't do to have any of her wounds reopen this soon after the hospital discharge.

"Sy-on!" she exclaimed when he entered, and Yor had let him in.

Anya looked on as Yor leaned down to say something in his ear, and a smattering of pink spread across his cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the colour he turned when he saw her strewn across the sofa.

"H-hey," he said stoically. "You good?"

When she nodded, his shoulders visibly loosened, and he pulled on his satchel strap. "Come on then. I've got all your schoolwork."

"Ugh," Anya groaned. "Do we have to?"

Anya noticed that he studiously avoided eye contact with her. "Dummy. Are you really that desperate for another Tonitrus Bolt?" he said playfully.

Anya hmphed and crossed her arms over her chest in light protest, but it was only then that she realised - she was still in her pyjamas.

Her Princess Honey pyjamas.

"Ah!" she leapt up from her comfy space on the sofa, wincing only slightly when the sudden movement pulled at her stitches, and barrelled her way towards her room.

She slammed the door behind her, panting for breath from the sudden exertion, and pressed her hands to her face in embarrassment.

Thumps pounded on the door. "Hey! It's only schoolwork, it's not going to kill you!"

"Just a second!" Anya called through the door, and scanned the area to locate something, anything, that she could use to get changed quickly. Her eyes landed on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt strewn across her bed.

Damian shouted through the door once again as she hurriedly pulled on the jeans. "Stop avoiding me! Open the door right this second!"

Anya was halfway to pulling the shirt over her head when the door creaked open, and she yanked the t-shirt down before turning to see a redder-than-normal Damian.

"Uh," he gulped.

Anya's cheeks flamed. "You saw nothing!"

She saw the image in his mind. He did not see nothing, and they both knew it.

"Sure," said Damian, a bit too quickly. "I'm just gonna… um…" His voice trailed away as he drifted back towards the kitchen table.

Anya was torn between laughing at the silly expression on her face, or hiding herself under the duvet forever. She put her hands over her hot cheeks and tried not to scream. Why was it always Damian that saw her at her absolute worst?

Anya tried to calm her thunderous heart with a few deep breaths before she threw her shoulders back and shook herself off. If Becky could exude confidence on the outside, then she could too.

She threw open the door, startling Damian just outside of it, and stormed towards the kitchen table.

"I'm ready now," she muttered, not quite looking Damian in the eye.

She had forgotten about her wounds. Goosebumps flared on her skin as she felt his eyes roam to the bandages striped across her arms, but he didn't say anything.

An image flashed in his mind of her in a tank, hair floating like a halo, trapped in the web of tubes, shortly followed by an image of her clutched to his chest, her circled wounds freshly open and bleeding into his clothes.

Anya started. She didn't like to remember what it was like in the tank, and she was too sedated to sense things at the time, but Damian's image of her was almost… beautiful. Until he saw what the tubes did to her afterwards.

Nausea roiled in her stomach. Damian had seen her like that?

Damian cleared his throat and pulled out the seat next to her. "So, um, I think if we started with the policy brief projects…"

It felt like Anya was trying to remember things from another time. She could barely recall the assignment, but Damian gently explained that Professor Henderson understood that Adrian's absence might affect her grade. Anya was a bit offended at this.

"I think he'll find that I pulled all the weight on that one," she muttered, but she got to work anyway. With Damian's gentle guidance, she had been able to create a brief draft of what she wanted to explain.

Catching up on schoolwork was certainly a drawback at Eden where students were expected to be the best of the best, and illness was seen as no excuse for turning in less than adequate work.

Once they finished her assignment, they moved onto maths. Even after twelve years, it was Anya's least favourite subject.

The numbers on the page taunted her, and she tried to puzzle out the answers as she tapped her pen against her lips. She liked the feeling of it bouncing against her skin, and found that fidgeting helped her to focus somewhat.

After a minute of trying to think through the problem, something stood out to her against the ever-present rabble of thoughts.

She looks so cute when she does that…

The pen slipped through her fingers.

"Oh!" she said in a voice a bit too high. "Whoops! How did that happen-" She dived down under the table to retrieve her pen, and hoped that Damian didn't catch sight of her hot face. While under the table she took a moment to compose herself while she pretended to look for the pen.

"Ah, found it!" she exclaimed and came back up with a smile, holding it triumphantly in her grasp. "Now, um, where were we…"

Damian stared at her, and swallowed. Shit, did she hear me?

Anya tucked her hair behind her ear in an effort to look nonchalant and airy, and flashed him what she hoped was a convincing smile. She had completely forgotten about their agreement. "Oh yeah! Something about this… uh.. equation?"

"Formula," Damian corrected her gently and leaned forward, his own pencil at the ready. "Look here, it's simple if you think about it…"

But the damage was done. Suddenly, Anya found it exceptionally difficult to concentrate on anything that he said, instead looking at the dark hues of his golden eyes, and she couldn't ignore the scent of cinnamon in the air.

"Does that make sense?" said Damian casually as he glanced back towards her, and Anya blushed.

"Uh…"

A pained look crossed his face. "Anya…"

"I'm sorry!" she said reflexively. "Um, could you explain it again?"

She tried to listen. She really did. But once it was clear that nothing was going in, Damian finally put his head in his hands.

"Anya!" he grumbled. "If you don't get this, you'll fail the exams! And if you fail the exam, you'll get a bolt and you'll be expelled and-"

He stopped, and swallowed. And even if he hadn't said it in his mind, Anya might have understood what he wanted to say.

I'll never see you again.

Anya gulped. She was so stupid. The whole reason that Damian was trying to help her catch up on her missed schoolwork was that she was still just one Tonitrus Bolt away from expulsion. She should have been paying better attention, should have been making the most of him giving up his time to tutor her.

Anya breathed, and tried to focus her mind.

"One more time." she said resolutely.

After a few hours, they were both relieved when Yor came through with mugs of hot chocolate for them both. "You both have been studying so hard," she said with a smile, setting the mugs down in front of them.

"Thanks, Mama," said Anya as she took the mug gratefully, and hummed after taking a large sip.

Damian took his and mumbled his thanks with a red face.

The door clicked closed as Loid returned home. "I finished up that side mission a lot earlier than I thought," he called to the kitchen, "I can start making dinner just now!"

Damian frowned into his mug. "You work at the hospital on a Saturday?"

Anya and Yor froze.

A strained voice called in from the hallway. "Oh, Damian! You're here!" he turned round the corner with a strained smile frozen on his face. "Forgive me, that was a bit of an exaggeration. I was helping a friend with something."

Anya flicked her eyes to Yor's, and they made brief eye contact.

Does he suspect anything? Her Mama's voice rang clear in her mind.

Anya, very slowly shook her head.

Damian didn't ask any further questions, and Anya made an effort not to pry into his mind, remembering her promise that she made to him. After all, he hadn't given her the code.

Loid moulded his face into something a bit more pleasant. "Since you're here Damian, why don't you stay for dinner?"

A pit formed in Anya's stomach. She knew what Twilight was doing.

She knew that he had a fairly positive opinion of Damian himself, and did not object to him coming round occasionally, but the phrase Operation Strix was a constant in Twilight's mind, as if it was a record on repeat. That moment was no different.

She knew what her father wanted - if she and Damian were friends, there was a greater chance of Twilight interacting with Donovan Desmond outside of school, and possibly even being able to infiltrate his house. They would find whatever they needed to, have world peace, and Operation Strix would end forever.

Or at least, that was the shortcut version that Anya had created long ago.

"Oh, uh," Damian stammered. "I can't, I'm expected back by the matron."

"Of course," said Loid smoothly. "But if you change your mind, just let us know…"

Then something crossed his mind, and his eyes flashed with an idea.

"Actually, Anya, I've forgotten some of the ingredients for tonight's dinner, could you go and get them?"

His voice rang clear in her mind, penetrating through the ever present fog of thoughts: I need to speak with Damian alone.

Sweat prickled on her skin, and she rose from the table without even thinking. "Yes, Papa," she heard herself saying distantly. "I'll just get my bag…"

She left through the front door, and closed it carefully, pressing herself against it.

Pretty naive of Twilight to think she wouldn't eavesdrop.

Damian swallowed, suddenly realising that being alone with both of Anya's parents was a bit more than what he had bargained for on a Saturday.

"Is everything okay?" he squeaked.

Yor made eye contact with Loid, and together they pulled a couple of chairs round the table and sat opposite Damian.

He wondered if he was about to be interviewed. Or interrogated. Or just ripped to shreds entirely. Damian clutched his hands underneath the table and tried not to look too nervous.

"We need to talk about Anya," said Loid quietly, and flicked his eyes towards the door.

Damian tensed. Why would they want to talk about Anya with him? Did Mr Forger figure out that he liked her? And wanted to hang out with her all the time? Was he about to do the father-daughter boundaries talk thing?

He really hoped not. It wasn't exactly a conversation he had prepared for, along with everything else. Damian clutched his hands tighter under the table and hoped that they didn't know he had accidentally seen Anya changing. He was pretty sure that would be less of a conversation and more of a physical duel.

"Now that her past has been exposed, and her safety is compromised we should work together to protect her."

Damian blinked, and the scenarios in his mind screeched to a halt.

"Excuse me?"

Loid didn't relent. "What extra measures are you taking for security?"

"Uh," Damian blanked. He hadn't thought about it at all.

Loid narrowed his discerning eyes. "She hasn't told you, has she?"

Damian's head snapped up. His mouth went dry in fear as he frantically thought back to every conversation he had with Anya since she he had visited her in hospital.

They talk about school, mostly. The ongoing tension with Becky and Bill (although Anya refused to say anything to him), the homework, and the classes that she missed. He asked after her recovery, and if she was okay, and if she was eating, was she looking after herself and taking care of her injuries. After a while, Anya had stubbornly told him that he was "too worried" and to let it go. Oh, and she thanked him for the gryphon, after which he embarrassingly muttered "don't mention it" and hung up the phone.

Sweat prickled on the back of his neck as it dawned on him that he and Anya hadn't actually talked about anything of consequence, so it was likely that whatever Mr Forger was about to say would likely be very bad news.

"Told me what?"

Loid scanned Damian's nervous posture and lowered his voice. "The Director is still out there."

The blood froze in Damian's veins. "Oh."

And as the full weight of the news set, the implications stood clear in his mind. "You mean, they could be back at any minute?"

"It's possible," said Yor, who had chosen to join in the conversation. "So Anya is no longer going to ride the bus to school. Loid and I will take turns escorting her to and from school each day."

(They didn't mention that they planned on taking it in turns to keep an eye on her at school as well).

"Well," Damian's mouth went dry. "I could hire more bodyguards."

"Wouldn't your father object?" said Loid and raised an eyebrow at Damian.

"Not if I said it was for me," said Damian confidently. "I thought about it after I was… um… after you got me out of the warehouse, but I wondered if it was overkill."

"That's a reasonable solution, and perhaps appropriate given that the staff of the facility knew your name. You may be on their list of targets," said Loid, but he folded his hands together and brought his eyes level to Damian's. "But what if you're alone?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if for whatever reason, the security wasn't there. They might not be allowed on school grounds, or there might be a situation where you've been separated from them, and Anya would be an open target. What could you do then?"

"I-" Damian stuttered. "Well…"

"Darling," interrupted Yor, and put her hand on Loid's shoulder. "Perhaps this is overstepping a little-"

Damian swallowed dryly, and looked Loid in the eye. "I could have something to defend myself with."

Loid's response was immediate. "That's illegal," said Loid smoothly, as he reached for his cup of water. "And perhaps not appropriate for a boy to bring into school with him."

Damian fidgeted with his hands. "What about the gun you took from Anya?"

Loid spluttered on his drink, and stared at Damian, speechless.

And it was Yor that broke the silence. "How did you know about that?"

"Because I took it from her first," he said quietly. "When I visited your house before. I saw it in her room and I took it. And I brought it with me to the lab."

Yor and Loid exchanged a panicked look, and Damian wriggled into his seat even further. Even though he was terrified of them both, he couldn't help the questions that burned to the surface.

"And you're hiding it in your jacket right now."

Loid's hand flew protectively to his jacket's opening, but he stopped suddenly, realising that he had just given himself away entirely. His shoulders sagged in resignation.

"Fine," said Loid. "Here."

He took the gun out from his jacket pocket and rested it on the table between them. "It's yours."

"Wait, seriously?" Damian hesitated to reach for it, but at Loid's encouraging nod, he laid his hand to rest against the cool metal of the handle. He weighed it in his hands, still as heavy as what he remembered.

"Do you know how to use it?" said Loid.

Damian met Yor's eyes briefly. "I've had, um, a brief instruction."

"You'll need lessons then. Let's arrange for lessons at least once a month," said Loid authoritatively.

Damian considered the offending pistol in his hands. "I didn't think there was anywhere I could learn something like this."

"There isn't," said Loid firmly. "This is strictly illegal. I was taught because I was a soldier in the war." He coughed, and Damian wondered if he was trying to cover up something else. "I had hoped that it wouldn't come to this. You might be legally an adult, but you are still young."

His shoulders sagged in resignation. "I had hoped that you and Anya would never have to do this, but I see that we don't have a choice right now. We know that there are people out there who will want to target both of you, and we have to take whatever measures we can to make sure that the both of you are safe."

Damian heart beat loud in his chest, and even though he felt so many things in front of the Forgers - nervous and terrified being the two most significant contenders - his heart also thrummed with excitement.

Somehow, the Forgers were always exciting.

"That reminds me," said Loid thoughtfully. "We will be training Anya as well."

Damian furrowed his brow. "I thought Mrs Forger was already giving Anya combat skills?"

Loid startled, and spun round to face his wife. "Is that what you do in your 'fitness classes'?"

Yor had the grace to look a little sheepish.

"Unbelievable," Loid shook his head in disbelief, and he tried to physically shake away his surprise, before redirecting his gaze back to Damian.

"We could teach you as well," said Loid. "In the event that you don't have your security or your bodyguards, you'll need skills to protect yourself. Yor and I happen to know a fair bit about self-defence."

Damian didn't say anything, and wondered how he should react. Did he know about Mrs Forger's insane skills? It seemed he didn't know that Yor was in charge of Anya's physical training, and he didn't want her to get reprimanded.

Anya had heard enough to know that her papa was expecting her back at any time. She noisily clattered through the doorway with a shout of "I'm back!" and thumped her bag down loudly, hoping that Damian wouldn't notice that it was actually not a bag full of groceries for dinner.

She bustled her way to the dining table and greeted her parents with a smile. "What did I miss?"

Loid pressed his lips together and gave her a stony glare. Don't pull that with me, I saw your shadow behind the door the whole time.

Anya looked away and tried not to look too guilty. "It's almost dinner time, we should bring Damian back to the dorms."

Her father sighed, and Anya could tell that he was at least a little grateful for the change in topic.

They all stood at the same time, and Damian moved to go, before Loid paused in the corridor.

"Oh, and one more thing," said Loid. He pulled out a white envelope from his jacket pocket, and unfolded the letter in front of both Anya and Damian. "We got a letter from your school. I'm guessing the vaccination drive wasn't that long ago, but why didn't you tell us you didn't go?"

Anya's gaze drifted to the floor. "Sorry Papa, I got scared."

That was all she said, but there was a fraction of understanding in Loid's eyes. "I see," was all that he said.

He didn't need to say "is this because of the lab?" but Anya saw him connecting the dots in his mind.

"Your health is important, so I want to encourage you to go, but we won't force you. If you really can't do it then that's okay."

Anya bit her lip. "Really?"

Damian took this moment to interject quickly. "You'd need it for the school trip," he said quietly. "Otherwise they might not… let you go..."

"Oh," said Anya dully.

Loid motioned for Anya to sit, which she did, and he considered her carefully. "Many of my patients struggle with anxiety, or some kind of phobia, and they think that if they avoid it then they will be safe."

He handed her the letter. "In reality, the more we avoid something, the more we fear it. If you keep avoiding this throughout your life, it may actually make your anxiety even worse."

"Worse?" squeaked Anya. Worse than nightmares and flashbacks?

"I know, it's not very nice," said Loid. "Facing our fears is the only way to help us get over them."

Anya wasn't sure. The last time she had tried to go for her vaccination, it was horrible. She saw the doctors, the pain, had relived something that she had thought she had forgotten.

At the same time, she had survived her second time at the lab. The worst had already happened.

But even as Anya tried to convince herself, her stomach knotted with anxiety. She thought she could be sick. Her secrets were blown apart, but her fears didn't come true. Her family was still with her. Damian was still by her side, and it didn't even deter him even a little bit.

Thankfully, Loid didn't push the issue, but something hardened in Anya's eyes.

She didn't want to be ruled by fear. She had enough of being ruled by fear for her entire life. Fear of being found out, being abandoned, being left for dead by someone who called himself her father.

What would happen if she didnt go? How much worse would her fear get?

"Okay," said Anya resolutely. "I'll do it."

Damian whirled round to her in surprise. "What? But, last time, you were-"

Anya stopped him with a gesture of her hand. "I know. It was bad. But Papa is right. I can't let fear get in my way."

Damian stared at her with something she couldn't discern. His mouth was slightly parted, cheeks flushed, and his eyes shimmered as he looked at her.

She looked away.

"I'll do it when I get back to school." said Anya, but even though she sounded confident, something roiled in her stomach.

Anya grabbed Damian's elbow, and pulled him along with her. "I'll walk Damian to his ride!"

Once outside the apartment, Anya loosened her grip on his elbow, before she pulled away. The smile she had put on her face slid into something of a grimace.

Damian had noticed it. "You heard what your old man said. You don't have to do it."

Anya shook her head. "It'll be okay. Maybe if.."

She twirled her hair with her fingers, and tried not to look at him. What if he thought she was weak? Or that he had better things to do?

She steadied her breath, and bravely forced it out. "If you come with me?"

Without looking at him, she sensed that he had stilled. His breath came in short gasps, the way it did when Damian tried to work out what he was going to say.

"Sure."

The sheer relief of it could have knocked her over.

Something impacted on her shoulder, and she realised that he had playfully punched her. "But no running away this time. You're too fast for me."

She couldn't stop herself from smiling. "Thanks, Sy-on."

During the car ride back to Eden College, Damian's mind wandered.

He had a good Saturday, all things considered. He felt like Anya might actually catch up on her studies, and he felt good about helping her, and he definitely wanted to support her, but the strangeness of the day lingered.

The image of her body had burned itself into her mind, and he was furious with himself for it. There's no way she wouldn't know if he let himself linger on that memory, and being caught daydreaming about it by her would be so embarrassing. It was enough for him to grind his teeth in annoyance.

Not only that, but the added weight in his school bag was terribly familiar. He had almost missed knowing it was there, but he couldn't ignore the feeling that he felt safer when he wasn't carrying something highly illegal. Even so, Damian wanted to be ready for whatever came their way next.

Mr and Mrs Forger sure were an odd pair though. Especially Mr Forger. The things they knew, the things they could do, and the puzzling way that they interacted as a family, made his mind spin in a direction that felt dangerous and unfamiliar.

He wondered what kind of psychiatrist kept a gun on him at all times.