Thank you to Mirage, HumanDictionary, YourLocalAsexualLoser, LightXCVII, and Psy-Kick for your awesome reviews, I appreciate them so much!
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The pain arrived first.
A dull ache throbbed in her bones, in her blood, like something was pressing down from above her, concentrating on her shoulder. Then, deathly cold, feeling like she would never be warm again. Like she was submerged in a layer of snow packed above her, encasing her, trapping her, making it all the more painful to breathe.
Anya awoke in a room with bright white light, and her left arm out of the sheets, with a cannula in her hand. She was vaguely grateful that she was asleep when they put it in. Anya wasn't sure if she had completely gotten over her needle phobia, but if she had to deal with them at all, she would rather not be awake.
She closed her eyes again, trying to trace back how she got there, how she even woke up at all…
There was a gunshot. It resounded in her ears, when she had pushed Damian to the ground, desperate to get him out of the way. Then there was pain. And lying on the ground staring into worried, golden eyes, focused only on her.
This isn't happening. A familiar voice rang out in her mind. This can't be happening.
It's going to be okay, she wanted to tell him. Because she saved him, so he wasn't going to die anymore, like in Bond's vision. Only - she couldn't open her mouth, or speak, or find any way to communicate at all. Dizziness took over her vision, and she started to feel faint, like she was slowly disappearing…
She wondered if that was what it felt like to die.
It wasn't as painful as she imagined.
It would be so easy to let go. It would have been so easy to fall into the black, to let herself float in the void that threatened to consume her. But there was something pulling her back.
Don't go. The voice said. You can't go. You can't leave me.
I'm trying, Anya wanted to tell them. They sounded so distraught, so devastated that she didn't want to let them down.
In her own mind, Anya reached out to the voice.
I'm trying, she said. I'm trying.
Don't go.
I won't.
The voice turned into a whisper, and Anya wanted to run towards them. I'm trying, she continued to call out.
It felt as though she was in a river, being carried away, and Anya did everything she could to fight against the currents, but her strength was slowly dwindling, and she didn't know how long she would be able to hold on.
She couldn't remember why or how she got here, but all she knew was that she needed to keep trying, she needed to keep fighting because otherwise…
The waters lashed at her, harsh and cold, but the current was too strong. Part of Anya felt tempted to let go, to let herself be swept away by it, but she just had this overwhelming feeling that if she did that, then it would be the end. And there would be nothing.
Somehow Anya had enough awareness to understand that if she did the easy thing, if she let go, then she would die. She would never see her mama and papa ever again. She would never get a chance to explain herself to Damian, to tell him for the last time how she really felt. She would never have a chance to talk to Becky, or get another vision from Bond… Or even explain anything to her classmates. They must have been so scared.
So, she fought. Anya fought against the ever-growing current not just like her life depended on it, but everyone else's too.
Until it seemed to weaken. Either that, or a glimmer of strength sparked from within her, and it fuelled her, channelling her energy until the waters lost their rage and calmed once again.
She couldn't hear anything, but maybe that was a good thing. She couldn't see anything, but strangely, it didn't panic her. If it was calm, then maybe she could save her strength. If the waters came back, then she could still fight if she had to, because there was no way that Anya would let them take her. There was still so much to do, so many people to see and speak to…
Questions rattled through her mind, and she needed to know - was Damian hurt? Did her rushed intervention work? Or did Bond's prediction still find a way to come true? She had to know.
So, it was a pleasant surprise when she did open her eyes, first noticing the hospital room, and then her parents, and then the noisy arrival of Yuri and Adrian.
When they left the room again, along with her papa, Anya's eyelids pulled closed, lulled by the sensation of her mother's hands stroking her hair, and whispering soft words.
For a while, that was how she existed. Sleeping and waking, and everytime she noticed either her mama or papa sitting in the chair with her, watching her, just like they said they would.
Each time, Anya woke briefly, only enough to drink some water or take her medication, and then she was asleep again. It felt as though her energy was being sapped away from her, redirecting itself into her shoulder, where her wound was slowly healing.
She kept sleeping. On and on she woke and slept, cycling through into each other.
Sylvia regarded the papers thrown on her desk with disdain.
"Dusk," she sighed, and reached for the pile that he had unceremoniously given her. "What are these?"
But then she read the text in bold print on each paper, and her eyes narrowed, her heart picking up its pace.
"The headlines for tomorrow's papers," Dusk replied calmly, although he knew that Sylvia would have understood their meaning by now. "The canary sang at the press offices, so I checked it out, and found these. I thought you would want to see them."
"You thought right," Sylvia nodded vaguely, and spread out the articles in front of her:
DESMOND GROUP PRESS CONFERENCE IN SHAMBLES AFTER SURPRISE SHOOTING
DAMIAN DESMOND SURVIVES BOTCHED ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT - GUNMAN ESCAPES
SECRET SECURITY SERVICE OFFICERS UNDER FIRE FOR "INADEQUATE SECURITY" AT EDEN SHOOTING
EDEN COLLEGE UNDER LOCKDOWN AFTER ATTACK
HERO SCHOOLGIRL TAKES BULLET FOR DAMIAN DESMOND - THE FACTS SO FAR
Soon enough, the entirety of Ostania - potentially even the world - would know about the attack on Eden, where Anya saved the Damian Desmond from a literal gunshot. In a way, it was good that the attack was still being portrayed as an "attempted assassination", because the reality was far more complex, and Sylvia knew better than anyone just how much the public relied on a straightforward narrative. If they knew that the true reason for the attack was unknown, that it was due to a series of mis-timed events and still-unknown variables, the panic level of the public would no doubt be astronomical.
At least "assassination attempt" was an easy explanation for the public to grasp, without having to contend with the facts that there was something clearly much bigger going on. Now that might cause a real panic.
But that was the least of her worries.
"This is worse than I thought," she sighed in a way that deflated her whole chest and Sylvia drooped over her desk, massaging her temples. "Can you delay the publication?"
"The demand is too high for me to influence it," said Dusk. "But I assume you're more concerned about Starlight?"
Sylvia's gaze slid to her pile of mission reports, atop of which was the old folder for Operation Bellator. Dusk knew her habit of re-reading old files to look for any missing information, and apparently he also knew that she was a lot worse at hiding her emotions than she thought.
A spy should never get attached. She had drilled that very message into Twilight, but where did that get her? And at the end of the day, she was only human too…
"Yes," she admitted to Dusk, looking at him from below the edge of her wide-brimmed hat. "I understand that information about the incident will be in high demand, perhaps impossible to stop, but if there is a way for us to protect Starlight for as long as possible, we have to do what we can."
Dusk didn't move, and Sylvia raised an eyebrow at him.
"Am I asking for too much here?"
It was phrased as a question, but they both knew that beneath those words were an order: Protect Agent Starlight.
"I'll delay it for as long as I can," said Dusk quietly before adding: "But there is one problem."
"And what is that?"
"Do you know when she turns eighteen?"
"It's November, isn't it?" Sylvia scrunched her brows together in thought. "And not until next year…"
"That's the birthday we have from the lab files, but if I recall, Starlight's legal birthday is in March."
Sylvia realised the hidden meaning behind Dusk's words a fraction after he spoke, and she groaned. Another fucking thing for her to deal with.
"Don't tell me. They already know who she is, but they're just waiting until she reaches eighteen before publishing her name?"
"I believe so," said Dusk seriously. "Which means that buys her a few more days."
Fuck, Sylvia gritted her teeth. She wanted to shout, punch something, anything, because suddenly someone who was supposed to be a spy for WISE was about to have their face printed in every newspaper in Ostania - maybe even beyond.
"What are your orders, Handler?"
Shit shit shit! Sylvia refrained from biting at the nail of her thumb, even though the urge practically screamed at her.
How was she supposed to manage this? She couldn't prevent it, not with the thirsty press conglomerates rivalling her own powers of influence…
"For fuck's sake," Sylvia groaned, and slammed open her desk drawer, rummaging aggressively through it.
"I thought you were trying to quit?" Dusk raised an eyebrow at her, and she gave him her best glare.
"Give me my cigarettes, now."
Wordlessly, Dusk removed a pack from his back pocket and handed it to her.
"And that is the last time you steal them from me," she glowered, and removed a thin cigarette from the pack. "I don't care if you think you're trying to help."
At least he had left the lighter in her drawer, and Sylvia clicked it alight, breathing in with relief when the embers singed at the end. The smoke curled around her, but instead of obscuring her vision, Sylvia found that it removed the fog from her brain and helped her to see clearly.
All her life, Sylvia had a knack for solving problems, but unfortunately, they only became more complex as she got older, and her headaches only became more intense.
"Starlight may need to be relocated," she said out loud, watching the cigarette smoke rise and disappear around her. "And perhaps it's time for additional security measures…"
Anya felt a presence in the chair next to her. Someone with a busy mind, who was waiting for Anya to wake up.
"Handler," Anya rasped, and looked over, trying not to move too much. Even with the painkillers running through her IV drip, filtering slowly in through the cannula in her hand, the pain was still there, although dulled, and muffled.
"Sorry to drop in on you like this," said Syliva, and to her credit, she did look genuinely apologetic. "I told Loid that I would take over watching for you for a bit. I was hoping we could talk."
Anya closed her eyes, the lids feeling so heavy because of the pain, and the painkillers that dulled most of it.
"How are you feeling?" asked Sylvia.
"Like I got hit by a bullet," said Anya honestly, but she didn't elaborate. There were some things that were just too hard to put into words.
"Can you move?"
"I tried before but..." Anya sighed. Winced. "It's better if I don't."
There was a pause, in which Anya quietly regarded the Handler. Here was someone who she had viewed as an aunt for nearly all of her life - even with the assumption that she would eventually be Anya's boss one day. Especially now that she was technically a spy-in-training…
But, with Twilight retired, Anya wondered…
Was Sylvia going to take over her training?
"I'll keep it brief," sighed Sylvia. "You're about to become very, very famous, Starlight."
Anya blinked. This was not where she thought the conversation was going to go.
"Eh?"
"Do you realise what you've done?"
"I…" Anya tried to think back. "I pushed Damian out of the way. Papa told me that I saved him."
"You did," Sylvia agreed. "You saved Damian Desmond. The current CEO of the Desmond Group, who took over from his father, Donovan Desmond, the man currently in detainment for alleged funding of human experimentation, among other military projects."
Anya's eyes widened, and mercy on her soul, it actually started to dawn on her how big that was.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"So, I'll be in the newspapers?"
"Once you turn eighteen," Sylvia agreed. "The fact that you took a bullet for Damian Desmond cannot be held back, and it is going to be international news. Before that happens, we need to talk about a few things."
Anya raised her eyes to the ceiling, watching as the lights flickered above her. Honestly, she was too tired to have this conversation.
As if reading her mind (or more likely, her expressions), Sylvia looked away, apologetic.
"I'm sorry to do this now, Starlight, but we're running out of time. The fact is that if you remain in this life, you cannot be a spy. If you choose to stay with Damian, with your friends, you'll only become more recognisable as time passes, which will make it more difficult for you to take up undercover missions."
If Anya really thought about it, she would realise that she had been expecting this conversation for a long time. Didn't she already know from reading Twilight's mind for the last twelve years, that a spy had to throw away her identity?
With training, she had tried to forget about it, push to the back of her mind that being a spy meant giving up on the life she had tried so hard to build. The very thought made her heart ache, and made it hard to breathe.
"What if I don't want to leave this life behind?" she said quietly. "What if I want to stay?"
"Then you have to consider your safety. WISE can only offer you protection as long as you are Agent Starlight, otherwise I wouldn't be able to justify it to the higher-ups."
Anya gripped the sheet, the only outward betrayal of her emotion. "I thought you had protected people before."
"We have. But you're…" Sylvia sighed. "It's a complex issue. My hands are completely tied by the organisation, and by the higher-ups. Although Twilight is your adopted father now, it was never supposed to stay that way. You were only meant to be linked through Operation Strix, and now that's over, the only way that WISE can offer you protection at all is if you were one of us. Apart from that, the only way that I can justify the expense of protecting a person left over from a previous mission is if there was an advantage to protecting them for the world - and that would mean having to tell more people the truth about you. I've kept your identity a secret even within WISE, I erased your name from the Project Apple files before we were forced to hand them over to the SSS and domestic authorities, but putting your name on our watchlist would mean having to tell everyone why, and I honestly don't know if that would be a good idea, or if it would just end up putting you in even more danger."
Anya stared at Sylvia, barely able to breathe. Of course Anya knew that Sylvia had her own motives for things, but she just assumed that it was because she had powers. That if she became a spy, she could be useful. That it was the natural path for her career after having helped with the completion of Operation Strix.
All this time…
Sylvia had been fighting behind the scenes to protect Anya. All this time, and she never knew.
"Is that why you wanted me to join you? So that I would have protection?"
"I told you that already," Sylvia smiled. "We can protect you, but only as long as you're one of us."
Slowly, through the cloud of low-dose painkillers, all of the pieces started to make sense in Anya's own mind. When Sylvia originally recruited her, she said that it was the "only way" for them all to stay as they were, as a family. That it was the only way for things to work at the time.
The situation had drastically changed since then, of course. Twilight's identity was known to all of the Forgers, Operation Strix had reached its' completion, Donovan Desmond had been arrested, Anya was recruited, Twilight was fired, and now, Anya's face was about to be all over the newspapers for saving his second son, now in charge of the Desmond Group.
How did Twilight ever keep up with all the information…? She wondered, but she didn't have the strength to massage the headache from her temples.
What else had Sylvia said?
"So the higher-ups… they don't know about me?"
"Not yet," said Sylvia. "I'm trying to keep it that way for as long as I can."
Anya wasn't sure if that made her breathe easier or not. Clearly, Sylvia has been actively trying to protect Anya's identity, even from those within WISE, to the extent that her recruitment was a complete secret even to the higher-ups of the WISE Headquarters.
There was so much that had happened, and yet, Anya wondered about it all.
She had passed the test to become a spy, but it brought her no joy, and since then, the only correspondence she had had from her 'future boss' was that she would undergo training with Twilight. He was reluctant to offer it to her, but at some point he did teach her the basics of using a gun, and the basics of code-breaking, even though it didn't exactly feel like real or exciting spy-work at the time.
And… there was the added burden of having to keep everything a secret. Twilight had been a spy for so long, but having to lie to his family for twelve years took a visible toll on him, even to the extent that he had become lax in being able to keep his secret… well, a secret.
Anya had been carrying the weight of secrets all of her life. She knew more than anyone just how burdensome they could become, just how much she could hurt people, even without meaning to.
Like Becky, who was in tears wishing that her best friend would trust her for once.
Like Damian, who was shaken to the core each and every time one of her secrets was revealed, and had to take extra time to recover.
Like her Mama and Papa, who never knew about her telepathy or her past as a test subject, and it devastated them.
Having all of her secrets revealed was so freeing. Finally, after so long, the chains that had restricted her for her whole life had come crashing down, and she could move unrestricted. She could even speak freely with more people than ever before, not having to hide who she was, or what she could do.
It was a different life. One that Anya wanted to keep, and treasure until the very end.
Thinking about what she had to endure before… Did she really want to go back to that?
Anya's voice became very quiet.
"What if I don't want to be a spy anymore?"
"Then I won't force you," said Sylvia quietly, and at Anya's continued silence, she sighed, and got up, fixing her hat in place.
"You still have a few days to make your decision," she said quietly. "Or more accurately, before the newspapers make it for you."
Anya gulped, wondering just how much of an earthquake it was going to be in her own life.
Protection, at the cost of returning to a life of secrecy, or freedom, at the risk of being the centre of a media storm?
How could she be expected to make such a choice?
"I'll think about it," Anya promised.
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I don't know when I'll next be able to post. This week I'm at Worldcon (World Science Fiction Convention), which is honestly such a huge event that I don't know how to process it. It's 5 days full of events like writing workshops, author panels, sci-fi and fantasy discussions, attended by agents, publishers, and thousands of attendees. It is HUGE. Every hour of the day has at least 30 events to choose from, and every day goes until 10pm. Quite frankly, I'm on Day 3 and I know that I'm going to die of exhaustion by the end of it.
I also have a busy few weeks ahead of me, so we'll see! I'm going to aim for Saturday 17th August 2024 but if it has to be later then so be it.
Next chapter is Damian's POV so you can look forward to it! xxx