I'm early because I couldnt wait to post this.

Get ready guys, there's a bomb in this one. I know you're ready for it. x

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Twilight didn't realise how much faith he had in his daughter until she ran after Damian, and he did nothing to stop her. He agreed with Yor: that if there was anyone best placed to calm him down and explain things, it was Anya. It must have been creeping in slowly - the fact that, throughout all these years, Twilight was subconsciously training Anya, and he didn't even know it. So when he let her run after Damian, Twilight knew that she would be able to handle the situation. He trusted her.

Who he didn't trust was Yuri (for obvious reasons), and even Adrian to some extent, since Twilight didn't know enough about him to form a proper conclusion, but that was to be expected. He would have to do his usual strategy of collecting information first.

Objectively, he had no reason to trust Damian. He was young, and the son of his target, but somehow Twilight had been in the position of watching Damian grow up alongside Anya in Eden, and witnessing just how much the two had grown to care for each other. Maybe he should have put a stop to it, knowing that whatever friendship they formed would only grow more complicated, but he couldn't. He needed Anya and Damian to form a friendship so that he could get a chance to meet Donovan Desmond, and progress Operation Strix at every opportunity..

And, there was something about watching the two from afar constantly spinning into each other's orbit that made him feel… warm. Peaceful. Proud. Like a real father.

He expected things to get complicated between them - he wasn't stupid - but Twilight never imagined that Damian would demonstrate such devotion to his daughter, to the extent that he would risk his own life to bring her out of the lab. Nor did he imagine that he would dedicate himself again and again to protect her, to help her, and even to take lessons from the Forgers on self-defence, all for her benefit.

So, Twilight couldn't help but trust Damian implicitly. He had done so much for them. So much that Loid Forger would never be able to repay him.

"Dr Forger, where are we going?" Damian's voice dragged him from his thoughts, and Twilight took a moment to reorient himself.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, and flicked his gaze towards the boy in the passenger seat, who was doing a remarkable job of keeping his composure. Twilight could tell from Damian's rigid posture and his clenched fists that Damian was feeling a little tense, and Twilight suspected that Damian was giving himself a mental pep-talk to look normal in front of Loid. (It's what Twilight would have done in his situation, too).

Twilight relaxed the position of his arms, and did his best to take on a tone that was authoritative, but reassuring.

"There's a forest just outside of Berlint. People often go there during hunting season, so I figured it would raise fewer suspicions if I took you there."

Damian gulped, and tried to downplay his nerves - but Twilight had seen the subtle bob of his throat as he swallowed, the thin sheen of sweat prickling on his forehead and on the back of his neck.

"Not that you have anything to worry about, of course," he smiled and kept his eyes on the road. He had a notion of why his daughter's boyfriend could be feeling so nervous around him, but he hoped that Damian would gather the courage to bring up the topic himself in his own time.

Damian didn't need to be so nervous about the lesson itself, especially since he was a fast learner, and with each gentle correction, Loid felt himself becoming more and more impressed.

They practised using Loid's own gun, because even though Damian had one of his own, Loid didn't want the risk of Damian's secret weapon being found out during the transit. There was always the risk of it slipping out of a bag, or being discovered in a surprise bag search on Damian's return, and he argued that it was overall safer to leave the weapon in Damian's dorm, where no-one could happen upon it without a key to the room.

So, it ended up that Loid had coached Damian into holding his gun, and practising with it, so that he could learn without the fear of being caught.

"Remember, you want to squeeze the trigger, not pull it," said Loid gently. It was clear to him that Damian's pre-existing nerves had rattled him even before they started practising together, and Twilight knew from experience that could transfer into how a person aimed their shot, even if their hands weren't already shaking.

"What's the difference?" said Damian, clearly confused.

Loid beckoned for Damian to hand over the gun, which he did without hesitation, and he positioned his grasp over the trigger.

"If you 'pull' the trigger, you'll pull your aim up, and it's going to change the direction of your shot. What you want to do is to try to keep your hand steady as you squeeze it in place."

Loid signalled for Damian to reinstate his ear defenders in their proper place, before he held up the gun with both hands and fired off a quick shot, hitting the target in its dead centre, and Damian jolted - even with the sound protection, the sudden noise was still enough to startle every time it was fired.

He uncovered his ears once more, and noted that Damian's eyes did not waver from the weapon in his hands. He seemed fixated on it, like he was afraid that Loid would turn on him at any second.

"It also helps our aim when we relax our shoulders," Loid said dryly, but the edge of his lips twisted upwards, if just to signal to Damian that he was only trying to diminish the tension with a light joke.

Luckily, Damian seemed to take this on board and he forced his shoulders to relax, but it still didn't escape Loid's notice that Damian had tensed every muscle in his legs and body. Was Damian still in shock from last night after all? Or was he nervous for a different reason?

Loid thought back to what he had wondered on the drive there. Damian seemed nervous, but also preoccupied, like he had quite a few things on his mind, and Loid's hypothesis only strengthened once Damian removed the ear defenders fully, and placed it carefully on the top of Loid's briefcase.

"Um," Damian sweated nervously, and wiped his palms on his trousers. "Dr Forger, I… um…"

Loid cracked a gentle smile, hoping that he could show his genuine support.

"You know, Damian," said Loid carefully. "You don't have to call me 'Dr Forger' anymore. I think you've earned the right to be a little more familiar with me."

If he was being completely honest, he kind of missed the days when Damian would freely call him 'Pops' - back before he officially became Anya's boyfriend.

Damian reddened. "I... have?"

Loid seated himself on a nearby fallen log, and patted the space beside him, inviting Damian to sit down with him, which he did. Then after a moment, Loid straightened himself once again, and turned slightly to regard Damian with good-natured solemnity.

"I can see that you really care for my daughter. More than I expected," he admitted, "but all I want is for her to be happy and safe. And you have already proven that you can do both."

"But I haven't really done anything-"

"Damian," Loid interrupted. "Do you think just anyone would have followed her into hell and brought her back?"

The words seemed to strike Damian somehow, and he held Loid's gaze with interest as he continued:

"You rescued her. When things got tough, you stayed by her side. When she asked you for help, you gave it, without question. You've helped her so much at school. You make her smile and laugh, more than anyone else can do for her. Even now, you've proven that you're willing to learn to do what it takes to protect her."

Loid felt that he didn't need to explain that last part, but he gestured to the pistol that he had placed beside the two sets of ear defenders, all resting on his briefcase, as if they were symbols of the lengths that Damian would go to for his own goals.

Damian furrowed his brow as his gaze followed Loid's gesture, as if he was only just putting together that his actions were unusual, and Loid took Damian's continued silence as his cue to finish.

"You're a good person, and I have no doubt that you'll become a good man. I can't think of anyone else that I'd rather my daughter be with, so don't think that you need to prove yourself to us or earn our approval. You already have it."

Damian's mouth opened and closed but no sound came out, and he reeled back, clearly so overcome with emotion that Twilight briefly wondered if he overdid it.

After a long pause, Damian looked away as he cleared his throat in an effort to regain his composure, and then pushed his shoulders back as he turned towards Loid again, straightening his posture.

"Th-thank you for taking me out here, for taking the time to teach me. I promise I'll… do what I can."

Loid gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "I know you will."

Once again, he regarded the teenage boy before him with some level of affection. It was so obvious that Damian was nervous to be alone with his girlfriend's father, and Loid let the silence sit for a while as he waited for Damian to speak up, but it soon became apparent that Damian had lost his nerve. He sat rigidly, staring at the ground and twisting his fingers with such obvious anxiety that Loid wondered if he would have to step in.

Loid let out a loud sigh, subtly catching Damian's attention.

"I think I know what this is about."

Damian jolted. "Y-you do?"

"I imagine that it's something you've thought a lot about. So if there's something that you want to ask me, you're free to ask it." Loid kept his voice calm and even as he said it, wanting to appear as encouraging as possible.

"Well… um." Damian sucked in a deep breath, taking in Loid's words, before he gathered his courage to speak. "I just… I've been thinking about it for a while, and I'm sorry for hiding it from you, and not asking directly, but I couldn't think of another way to speak to you… without Anya around."

"I see," Loid nodded somberly. "Well, I guess it couldn't be helped."

"You're not… mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" said Loid, genuinely puzzled. "I understand the timing is a bit unusual, since you're both still in school, but I see no problem with giving you my blessing ahead of time."

At that, Damian's face turned entirely red - not that Loid noticed a difference, since Damian often turned some shade of crimson - and his posture stiffened in panic.

"Uh-"

Unaware, Loid blundered on: "Though we should probably think about arranging a meeting with your parents, since that is the traditional way of-"

"Sir, that's not really what I-"

"-proceeding with these kinds of things, but of course it's up to you how you would-"

"-had in mind, not that I wouldn't or that I hadn't thought about it, but not yet is all I meant-"

Both men stuttered to a halt, and although both looked a little red, it was Damian that looked like he had come off worse in the exchange: the deep blush had spread all over his neck, even tingeing his hands pink, and he gripped his own forearm in an effort to at least stop some of the shaking.

Loid scanned Damian's body language with some curiosity, and then he cleared his throat apologetically.

"Ah, it appears that I may have jumped the gun a little there," he chuckled, "if you'll forgive the pun."

Damian rushed to his feet, spurred on by some invisible force, and stood before Loid, unable to keep himself seated for even a second longer.

"Dr Forger, I… I need to ask you something."

Twilight distantly noted that Damian still called him by his formal name, not 'Pops' like he had a few months before, or 'Loid' like he had asked. He wondered if whatever Damian had to ask really made him that nervous, or if he just needed more practice to call him a more familiar name.

Loid pressed his lips together, and indicated for Damian to carry on, and his psychiatric persona prompted him to add: "Whatever you need, Damian. I'm happy to listen."

Damian took a deep breath, centering himself once again.

"I'm sorry," he began, not knowing where to look. "I know it's not a good time, but there's something I can't get out of my head, I've been trying not to think about it, it's too crazy and I didn't want Anya to worry, but every time something else happens it just gets bigger and bigger and I don't know what else to do with it, and I think I'd better talk to you before I explode or… or before something bad happens."

Loid blinked hard, and almost recoiled, he had never seen Damian like this before. He had at least prided himself on building enough of a relationship with Damian to actually have one on one time without it feeling too awkward, especially after the things that had happened before, but in all of those times, Loid was the one in charge of the situation. He was the adult, the guardian, and his presence had generated the appropriate level of respect, but Loid began to wonder if he had accidentally let go of that control along the way. Damian had organised this meeting, he was the one to request a lesson and make it happen, and now Damian was the one who had something he wanted to ask, something that Loid thought that he had understood, but had made an assumption so incorrect that he felt he had entered new territory.

Not only that, but he had sensed a distinct change in the atmosphere, along with the conversation's sudden tonal shift. Damian had specifically arranged to be alone with Loid, away from civilization, so that he could ask him something that he was too scared to think about around Anya.

"You're not…" Damian gulped, and took another deep breath. "You're not a real psychiatrist, are you?"

As soon as the question left his lips, Loid switched to Twilight, and his mind raced with several hundred thoughts and possibilities, but he gritted his teeth, and forced his heart rate to stay at a reasonable level.

Stay calm, Twilight. Stay calm. He kept the mantra running in his head like a prayer.

"What makes you say that?" said Twilight in a way that he hoped came across as calm, rather than completely panicked, but as soon as the words left his mouth Twilight suddenly realised that he had dangerously misstepped.

He didn't contest Damian's question. He didn't say "what are you talking about?" or "I have no idea what you mean".

Instead he said: What makes you say that?

He had effectively asked for Damian to recount evidence, only opening up the question even more instead of shutting it down, and now that the invitation had been made, the question not contested, Damian responded in kind.

"On the school trip… I heard Anya having a conversation with someone. It sounded like you, and she called them "Papa", so I thought you must have followed her to the lodge in some sort of disguise, and I thought that was crazy because why would you need to disguise yourself? But then - then I remembered the only reason we got Anya out was because there was a doctor there that helped us. It just didn't make sense. Why would a lead scientist in a secret lab want to sabotage their own work?" He looked purposefully at Twilight. "That was you, wasn't it? That was you in disguise."

"That's impossible," said Twilight mechanically, the moisture vanishing from his mouth.

"Just like being able to read minds is impossible?" Damian pressed on. "You were the only one there that called her 'Anya'. Everyone else called her 'Subject 007'."

Twilight honestly didn't know whether to be scared or impressed at Damian's attention to detail.

"Perhaps he was sympathetic to her," he rasped, but Damian was not deterred.

"When Mrs Forger broke the glass, you were there, you held Anya in your arms," Damian's voice trembled as he recounted it. "She recognised you, and she called you 'Papa'."

"She was heavily sedated. It doesn't mean anything."

"She can read minds!" Damian spluttered. "She knew it was you!"

"The facility broadcasted a soundwave that stopped her ability," said Twilight, in a desperate attempt to find a reasonable explanation that he could get Damian to believe.

"What if she was already stronger at that point? That whatever they did to her in the lab meant that the soundwave didn't have as much of an effect?"

Twilight could have kicked himself for not thinking of this first.

"There's no evidence for that," he said instead, but if he could hear the desperation leaking through his voice, then Damian definitely sensed it, and he geared himself up for the next strike.

"And," Damian began, preparing to deliver the killing blow. "You had her pistol. The one she stole from the kidnappers, that I took from her room, then to the lab, and when I dived into the tank to get her, you picked it up! You used it to keep the guards at bay, and then when we left to take her to the hospital, you kept it - and, and at your house, you had it inside your jacket and then you gave it back to me!"

Damian panted for breath as the words rushed out of him in an uncontrollable stream, and he leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, as if catching his breath after a marathon.

"How did that happen, if that wasn't you? If you weren't there?"

Shit.

Real panic started to build inside Twilight, and the thunderous roar of his heart had all but deafened him, but it was an effort to keep his expression neutral and as calm as possible. It was all getting out of hand, and he needed to find some way quickly to rein in Damian's accusations and minimise the damage.

"It's a different one, I assure you-"

"It's marked!" Damian exploded, his voice sharp and resonant as a gunshot, and the sudden volume surprised even him, because he took a moment to compose himself once again. "I would know it anywhere! And it's different from the other pistol that you normally keep on you! Which reminds me - why the hell do you have a gun? You said yourself that carrying this is illegal, and a real psychiatrist would have no use for a weapon, and the fact that you seem to think it's fine is just - it's just - GAH!"

Damian's breath came hard and fast, and both of his fists knotted in his hair. "No normal civilian should have something like this! So either you really are a veteran like you said, and you're just disregarding the law - which makes no sense because it's not something you would do – or - or - you have clearance - which means…"

At some point during Damian's tirade, he had resorted to pacing and forth, while Twilight sat, helplessly watching him. Twilight was utterly speechless, and even worse, he had the overwhelming sense that he was losing.

No.

He had already lost.

Damian seemed to sense it, too, because Twilight had run out of excuses and explanations, and his silence opened up the floor to Damian's final gambit.

His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, laced with barely-hidden panic.

"At the dinner yesterday, Anya only interrupted Mr Briar to say that thing about Bond because she was worried about what he would say about you, because she was trying to protect you! Then, after that, she told me to say 'a family of spies' through her mind, but it doesn't make sense for Anya to blurt out something like that when there's no truth to it because she is a terrible liar, so who was the spy, sir? It's not Anya, I've already been down that road, and if Mrs Forger is an assassin, and if Mr Briar is an agent for the secret service, then that just leaves you. So tell me, please," Damian gasped for breath, his entire body trembling with terror before his girlfriend's father.

"Are you a psychiatrist, or not?"

Twilight had never felt so utterly unprepared in his life, and he cursed himself for it. What kind of spy was he, that his daughter's boyfriend had somehow correctly deciphered every sign and unravelled his entire secret, and he didn't even notice?

He knew what WISE wanted him to do. The policy discouraged anyone knowing his identity as a spy, and encouraged eliminating dangerous witnesses - but it was Damian Desmond who had figured it out: the son of his target, his daughter's boyfriend, and an honorary Forger by his own admission.

If Damian knew the truth, it would put the entire operation at risk, but more than that, it would put Loid's entire family at risk.

And that was the question with Damian: how much did he have to lose from knowing? Although he had joined them on the rescue mission to get Anya from the lab, he wasn't a Forger, and he wasn't a trained professional like Yor. He was just a boy who had got caught up in it all.

Maybe Twilight was growing soft, or maybe he was finally learning what Anya had been trying to tell him for the last few years: that they were all only human after all, that secrets of this calibre were too much for any one person to bear, never mind a whole family, and that it was only a matter of time before it came back to shoot them in the back.

He recalled Anya's many attempts to plead with him to tell Damian the truth. The time in the WISE headquarters after she had initially failed her test, and she physically attacked him to show him just how deeply she felt about it. She attacked him - her own father! The fact that Anya had attacked him - he couldn't even fathom how angry she felt, after learning the truth about Donovan Desmond, even though they both knew that he was the target of the operation for the last twelve years.

He thought of every look she gave him, every signal that pleaded with him, and every time he had returned her look with a clear but stoic no.

When Yor had ultimately revealed herself as an assassin in front of everybody, she had given him that look too, while she said that she wasn't the only one who was sick of keeping secrets. Twilight knew about Anya's reasons, but Yor was a different beast altogether. She was like him - she kept secrets out of necessity, to keep her family safe, and yet she, too, was starting to crack under the weight of it all. The fact that Yor made that same plea - strong, indomitable, relentless Yor - and showed signs of cracking under the same pressure, made him pause.

How much longer could they keep this charade going? How much longer could they convince themselves and everyone around them that they were a real family? His carefully built house of cards was wavering on the breeze of the upcoming storm, and Twilight feared what would become of them all once the storm arrived in full force.

Anya's voice echoed in his thoughts: Damian deserves to know.

Yor's face flashed in his mind once again: Damian deserves to know.

And a plea in the deepest depths of his mind, echoing through him.

They were both right, he knew, but how could he go against a lifetime of training, of being a spy, and protecting the secrets in his family, all for their sakes?

For twelve years Twilight fought for them all, protected them as best as he could, both his family and his country, and committed acts he never otherwise would have if it weren't for his job, and his role in bringing peace to the world. He never intended for them to become a real family along the way, but Twilight had long ago stopped questioning his fake role as a father. He had a child to raise, a house to maintain, and there came a time when Twilight had to accept that the feelings he had developed for those in his life were as real as they could possibly ever be.

Twelve years of keeping up the secrets. Twelve years of smiling, and pretending, and treating patients, and carrying out missions behind the scenes.

Until Anya was abducted, and everything that he thought he knew was blown out of the water, and the carefully crafted house of cards had endured its first earthquake. And then every secret of theirs was out in the open - but only to each other. Assassin. Telepath. Spy. And they had all survived.

Because they were already a family, Twilight repeated to himself in his mind, but the argument was getting smaller, because as much as he didn't want to admit it, Damian wasn't just Anya's friend. He was already part of the family, and if they continued on the path as they were going, then it wouldn't be long until that connection would have been formalised.

Twelve years of watching them grow up together. Twelve years of knowing what was going to happen to him.

And here he was, Damian Desmond, pleading with Twilight to tell him the truth, leaning on the pieces of the truth he had gathered along the way.

Twelve years…

He fought against it because it was his job, it was how he was trained by Sylvia, he couldn't risk the mission, he couldn't ignore his orders, he couldn't go against the organisation.

Twelve years… and Twilight was exhausted.

Twilight cast his gaze once again on the young man in front of him. The boy who had done everything he could for them.

Damian Desmond stood before him, more terrified than he had ever been before: scared for his life, scared to lose Anya, scared to incur Twilight's wrath, among other things, and yet, there was a fire in his eyes. A thirst to learn more, a desire to protect people he cared about, a willingness to keep Yor's identity a secret, a fierce guard for Anya's own secrets as a telepath and past test subject.

Are you a psychiatrist or not?

He knew the risks. He knew the implications. He had known them the whole time.

The question pulsed at him, obtrusive and painful, and knew that he wouldn't be able to escape it. Not this time. The silence had chained him down for long enough.

A breath. A deep sigh. The bone-weary look of a man who had tried so hard to pretend that he, too, wasn't so tired of it all.

Are you a psychiatrist or not?

"No," sighed Twilight, defeated. "I'm not."

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**DEEP BREATH**

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

*shaking myself off*

This is another chapter that required a million years of planning and set up and now my brain hurts SO much so im going to take an unauthorised nap

Huge thank you to Cheeseiskey3 and to my fiance for the advice on firearms!

Next chapter Saturday 😘