Thank you so much to everyone following this story, especially to those leaving comments! It's really so much fun to write, and I'm so glad you have been finding it interesting as well!

Ellis Tobias - first of all, nice catch! To answer your question: Anya and Adrian can't hear each other's thoughts, but Adrian could hear Damian's worries, and even though he's a socially awkward product of experimentation he has also picked up that they both have a Thing for each other lol, and I think he wanted to give Damian a bit of encouragement. I wont have room in the story to elaborate on this (woops) but thank you for asking!

.

.

.

.

.

After Sylvia gave Loid the files from the raid of Project Apple, promising to update him later, she left him with his thoughts.

As he drove back to Berlint, Loid couldn't help but glance at the stack of documents every now and again. It was a struggle to pull his gaze back to the road and focus on the drive ahead of him.

He was tempted to watch the recording that Sylvia had handed him, but he honestly didn't know how much new information he could take. So, iti would have to wait until later.

The words contained in the files she gave him shook him to his core, and even worse, Loid knew that he wouldn't be able to hide it from her. Which meant that in the time it took to drive himself to Berlint General Hospital, he needed to know exactly what to say to Anya.

Yor didn't let go of Anya's hand the entire time that they were in the ward, although there was a brief moment in the emergency unit when she had to step away while they brought Anya's body temperature back up.

She didn't know what else to do. Yor called Loid's mobile near-constantly, but her heart dropped each time it went to voicemail.

"Where is he?" she muttered, and paced up and down the waiting room. She had actually paced so hard and so fast that a small groove had been worn into the tiles of the hospital floor, but although the hospital staff had noticed this, they wisely did not challenge the physically formidable Yor Forger.

Doctors bustled through the hallways, and Yor's heart leapt out of her mouth every time that an alarm dared to sound. She even tried to call Franky, and Yuri, but no-one picked up. Where was everyone? What were they doing that was so important they couldn't come to the hospital?

After almost an hour, the tiles started to smoke as Yor paced even harder, and each step was a thunderous strike that shook the floor.

The other guests that gathered in the waiting room grouped together in a protective huddle and eyed Yor warily.

Yor reached for her phone for what felt like the thousandth time when a man in an olive green suit burst through the hospital doors.

"Where is my daughter?"

At the man's voice, Yor's head instantly snapped up and she ran to him. (The floor just about held itself together).

"Oh, Loid!" she fell into his arms. "Where have you been? I've called you a thousand times!"

Loid nearly staggered back at the sudden weight of his wife falling onto him, but he had been married for over twelve years and he knew his wife well. He strategically shifted his back foot to take the instant pressure, and stabilised her with his hands, before returning her embrace.

"I know, I'm sorry," he breathed into her hair. Even though he was part of Anya's rescue, Loid realised that he would never be able to tell Yor that he was there with her, that they had rescued their daughter together. And although he had his suspicions, along with a thousand things to worry about, for that moment he leaned in to the familiarity of her.

They pulled apart when a doctor called for them: "Mr and Mrs Forger?"

Together, they followed her into a quiet room, where she indicated for them to sit. Loid glanced at her tag that read Dr Greta Hahn.

On instinct, Loid and Yor grasped each others' hands tightly.

"I'll start with the good news," said Dr Hahn in a gentle voice. "Anya is currently stable, and we expect that she will make a full recovery."

Loid had no idea how much tension he held in his body until he sagged in relief, but he and Yor held their gaze on Dr Hahn as they waited for her to deliver the rest of the news.

"There were a lot of substances in her system, and our lab technicians struggled to identify them all. It was mostly opiates and benzodiazepines, which can have quite serious side effects, and usually carries a severe risk of overdose when used together. Anya is extremely lucky that the dosage was just below the threshold to trigger a slower breathing rate - what we would call respiratory depression, but we are still treating her with an opiate antagonist to prevent any further risks."

Yor furrowed her brows. "What's an-"

Loid squeezed her hand. "I'll explain later." He nodded for Dr Hahn to keep going.

"As for the other injuries," Dr Hahn continued. "We would like to keep Anya in hospital for a few days to monitor her recovery. The lesions on her arms and legs do still present a risk of infection, and it is clear that there is some internal bleeding, and possibly some other hidden injuries we have yet to identify. Having her here would mean that we could keep an eye on their healing. "

Dr Hahn drew in a breath, and Loid braced himself. He knew from experience that a steadying breath often delivered the final blow.

She added: "We are also concerned about the levels of substances that Anya has been exposed to, and we don't have any information on what dose Anya has been kept on and for how long. So, while she stays with us we will keep her on an intravenous drip that should help with any potential withdrawal symptoms."

"Withdrawal?" Yor breathed. "Are you saying that she could be-"

Dr Hahn shook her head. "We don't expect that Anya would have developed a chemical dependence after such a short time, but given the volume that she was exposed to, I would personally prefer to assume the worst and give her this, just as a precaution. She might not need it, but it won't harm her."

"And what will you give her?" Yor narrowed eyes suspiciously.

The doctor handed over a piece of paper containing a list of names that Yor wouldn't even dare to pronounce. "I was going to suggest keeping her on a very mild analgesic to help with the pain, and also a round of supplements. We have found that thiamine can be effective in instances like this."

Loid glanced at the list over Yor's shoulder and nodded to both to himself, and in reassurance to his wife. It was what he would have recommended, too.

He put his hand over Yor's, and gave her a supportive squeeze before directing his attention back to the doctor. "Can we see her?"

Loid and Yor braced themselves to enter Room 207.

The adrenaline of Anya's rescue had taken them this far, but neither husband or wife were ready to acknowledge their suspicions of each other.

Loid regarded Yor carefully out of the corner of his eye. He had never seen Yor demonstrate such an amazing talent for combat before, which meant that she must have been holding back in front of him all this time. Where did the knives really come from? Just how strong was she? How was it that she killed so easily? What was she hiding from him?

At the same time, Yor was hyper-aware of Loid's every movement. She had heard him over the phone to Franky, had heard something about 'agents', tailed him all the way to the facility, and Loid had vanished from her in plain sight, only to reappear when she least expected. What did it mean? And what was he hiding from her?

Their hearts beat loud in their ears, and both reached to turn the handle to Room 207 at the same time.

Their hands touched, and electricity shot up their arms.

Husband and wife dared to look at each other behind false smiles.

"You first, honey," said Yor with a voice like ice.

"After you, darling," said Loid smoothly, but he could not hide the undercurrent of suspicion in his voice.

Neither could tear their eyes away from the other. Loid briefly pictured the dance of two lions prowling before each other. A thousand possibilities of Yor's next move swam through his mind.

Yor's arm twitched and immediately, Loid lunged for her.

She grabbed his outstretched wrist and wrenched it behind him in one fluid movement. "Don't you dare try to attack me, darling," she growled in his ear.

Loid grunted and twisted in midair, using the momentum of her hold on him to push her against the wall.

"What are you?!" He hissed. "I saw you at the lab! You slaughtered people!"

Yor gasped sharply, in disbelief that he would dare confront her. Then, she narrowed her eyes at him in a venomous glare. "What are you?!" she retorted. "I followed you there, and then you disappeared and then-"

She sucked in a breath, and forced out what she had held in for the last few hours: "I saw you take off that mask!"

Loid's stomach dropped. "What?"

That couldn't be true. He saw her turn the corner before he removed the mask of Dr Atkinson. Unless…

Yor met his stunned eyes, with triumph in hers.

Unless she looked back.

He could picture it. That moment when he told Yor to go, when he made sure she had turned the corner, when he turned back to the guards, raised his gun -

And he took off his mask. Like an amateur.

He didn't wait. And somewhere in that moment, she had turned back to look, maybe to check if he really could handle the guards without her, and she caught him in the act.

Sylvia was going to be furious with him.

A tiny whimper floated through the walls, and both parents froze.

Even though he had her pinned against the wall, it suddenly dawned on him that he was powerless against her. He had already seen her kill dozens just a few hours ago. He witnessed her destroy an entire tank of water with just one punch. She must have also hidden the stiletto knives somewhere on her person while he had stupidly tossed his pistol somewhere in the car, and left it behind as he rushed into the hospital.

He was outmatched.

Rage burned in his throat. Then, he swallowed his pride, and released his hold on her, before he took a step back.

"We'll talk later," Loid sighed, and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "Anya comes first."

At least that was something they could both agree on.

Loid tentatively pushed open the door to Room 207, while Yor remained outside to give them some space.

All the tension left his shoulders when he saw Anya lying in the hospital bed, her bandaged arms draped over the sheets, with an IV drip attached to her from a tall metal pole.

At first he thought that she might be asleep, until she turned her unsmiling face towards him.

His heart sank.

Dark circles under her eyes stood out against her nearly translucent skin. Even worse, the rims of her eyes were red and puffy.

"Papa," she croaked.

That one word broke him.

Loid had been trained as a spy to always hide his true emotions, but more than a decade of parenthood had trained him in how to be a father.

He gathered her in a tender hug and tried to muffle the sob that escaped him. "I'm so glad you're safe," he managed to say, before his throat tightened with emotion. He hoped that she didn't see the burning of his eyes.

He hated to admit it, but a part of him had honestly thought that Anya was gone forever, and glimpsing that possibility was torture for him. She was a part of his life for over twelve years. It didn't matter how many 'reminders' Fiona or Sylvia tried to give him about the mission: He was her Papa. Now and forever.

Anya sniffed loudly, which drew his attention. "I'm sorry…" Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

Loid leaned back, and hastily wiped his eyes. He wanted to say "What for?" but Anya burst into earnest tears.

"I failed the mission!" she sobbed, and Loid had to pause.

What is she talking about?

Anya covered her eyes with her hands, and the IV tube swung with the momentum of it. She cried even harder, but even with her hands over her face, and her hiccups as she choked through the words, Loid could hear every word:

"Are you going to replace me now?"

He went white.

"What?" he gasped. "Why would you say that?"

Slowly, the cogs turned, turned, turned, before they snapped into place.

"Oh my god," he said out loud, as realisation slammed into him. She was fucking telepathic. The entire time, she knew he was a spy. She knew about Operation Strix. She knew about Plan B. And, it appeared, she even knew about his initial thoughts of replacing her - something he had long forgotten about.

"No, Anya. Of course not." He knew that those words wouldn't be enough to undo the years of emotional hurt, but at least he could start somewhere.

She raised her head from out of her hands, and Loid's heart twisted at the sight of her tear-stained face. "Even though I'm a failure?"

Loid steadied himself. "You're not a failure. You're my daughter." Once again, he brought her closer to him in a gentle embrace.

At first Anya's arms hung limp by her sides, but she slowly moved to wrap her arms around him - gently, so as not to damage the carefully wrapped bandages - and she leaned into her father's hug.

After a full minute, they pulled apart once more, and Loid leaned back on the chair.

"What about Mama?" Anya whispered with her gaze on her fidgeting fingers. "Why did you all come for me?"

Loid's eyes softened, and with a small smile he remembered the obviously terrified, but stupidly brave boy who had followed him in. "Because we love you, Anya. That isn't going to change. I promise."

Anya exhaled in relief, and wiped the remaining tears from her face. She sat like that for a minute, breathing into the moment.

He wanted to ask her why she had never told him about her, had never confided in him even as a child, but as he thought more about it, it made sense. Didn't he tell her on the first day they met that she was to act as though he had always been her father?

It dawned on him, then, that Anya had been actively following his unspoken orders for nearly her whole life. Like a real spy.

Her next line dragged him out of his thoughts.

"You should tell Mama that you're a spy."

Loid wasn't sure whether to laugh or scream as the memory of their altercation crossed his mind, but at the sight of his doubtful face, Anya doubled down.

"I already know everything, and you both know everything about me now." She wrapped her arms around her legs, and tucked her knees under her chin. "It's only fair you should know about each other."

Loid sucked in a breath. So Yor was hiding something big.

It astonished him just how much Anya had been hiding for all these years. She had her own secrets to keep safe, and she had protected his identity as a spy the entire time. Was Yor a spy, too? Is that why Anya thought it would be okay to finally break the Forger tradition of secrecy?

A grimace flashed across her face, and Loid leapt from his chair. "Are you in pain? Do you need a doctor?"

"I just," Anya groaned and rubbed her temples. "I can't remember much of it." And then her head snapped up. "Wait - was Damian there?"

"Ah," said Loid. "I wondered how much you would remember. Diazepam is known to affect memory formation."

"Papa," Anya rolled her eyes. "Ostanian, please!"

"Sorry. Nevermind," Loid laughed. He resolved to explain it all to her later. "But yes, he was there. He was quite impressive, actually." Loid gave his daughter a sidelong glance. "What do you remember?"

"I…" Anya started, but then a blush crawled up her neck as she remembered the soft touch of his hands grazing her face, skimming her arm. The heat of his chest against her face as he carried her. His strong, warm hands on her shoulder and thigh. "N-nevermind."

Hoping to change the topic, Anya asked: "What happens now?"

The confusion must have been evident on Loid's face, because she buried her head in her knees, gathered her courage and asked the question she had been dreading her whole life.

"Will WISE take you away from us?"

Loid opened his mouth to reassure her, then promptly closed it. Shit. What happens now, indeed?

But he wanted to be strong for his daughter, so he gathered his resolve and looked her in the eyes. "Don't worry about that now. I'll handle it," he reached out to smooth her hair. "I'll sort everything out."

It wasn't long before Loid invited Yor back into the room at Anya's insistence, and they had sat stiffly opposite each other, ready to pounce - until Anya took matters into her own hands and blurted everything out.

There was shock. Some shouting. But mostly laughter.

And, above everything, relief.