Chapter Text
Anya? Yor? Bond? Why was Westalis’ most accomplished and skilled spy thinking about citizens of Ostania at a time like this?
The pavement of the alley felt hot on the back of the Twilight’s clammy knuckles. He focused on the sensation, trying to ground himself, to stay conscious. His thoughts were frantic– scattered and fractured.
Anya– the mission. WISE. Peace– Strix. Did the dog go for a walk- Handler, Franky, Nightfall– Anya and Yor. Mom? Yor? Yor? Yor? Eden, Yor and Anya.
His body felt so weak, the most it could do was shake ecstatically against the hot pavement and rough brick wall. His arm lethargically tried to raise up to try and apply pressure to his abdomen to stop the bleeding. All it did though is uselessly slump back onto the ground. There he was, the renowned spy Twilight half sitting on the floor in an unassuming alleyway, bleeding out without a soul around. It’s funny isn't it? *REDACTED* entered this type of work alone, and now *REDACTED* was going to die at the hands of this work, alone.
He likes to think he is not entirely alone. Twilight has Franky who he prefers to think of as the closest person he has to a friend. Handler and Nightfall too, they would at least care for the loss of Twilight. Loid Forger has Yor and Anya and Bond too if that counts for anything. Thinking about it, he feels tears well up at the corner of his eyes as he shuts them close. Are those Twilight’s tears? Or are they Loid’s? Perhaps these tears belong to the boy who lost his innocence to the war many years ago. Maybe, maybe now that it is his time he has finally come he’s reverted back to his original identity. If he truly is himself now, and not playing the role of a spy as Twilight, nor acting as a loving family man who works at the hospital as Loid Forger, does he really have anyone? Perhaps *REDACTED* really is going to die alone.
WISE had been getting a plethora of missions, as there seemed to be a trend of mischief and large scale drug dealings between East and West that could put international relations and diplomacy at risk, threatening world peace. Since Twilight was already stationed in Ostania’s capital, Berlint, it appeared logical to Handler to assign these smuggling prevention assignments to him. Now balancing one of these missions every night for the past two weeks, helping Anya not earn another Tornitus bolt, and keeping up appearances at the hospital can really put a toll on a person, even Twilight. On top of all that, during the past couple weeks, he’s noticed that Yor has appeared really drained. Of course, that brought him into a spiral trying to figure out why she seemed that way. He needed to find the reason (deducted 1067 thus far) and how to fix it. Unfortunately he has not had the time nor energy to take appropriate action to ensure that Yor is happy (for the mission, obviously).
Upon arriving at the transaction location, Twilight immediately noticed there were more dealers than usual, or it could be better to say that there was the same amount as the intel received from WISE anticipated. Lately, if he was informed there would be around 30 participants, he would show up and find that number cut in half. Perhaps that was the reason he was able to keep up for so long. Though the number was inflated, world peace was at stake here so Twilight went for it anyways. After taking a couple dealers out, he noticed some began to put masks on. As he scrambled to find something to breathe into, he began to feel dizzy and fatigued from whatever poison or drug was intoxicating the air. While he tried to focus on staying conscious, a dealer was able to partially stab him in the stomach. Though he was blighted by the drug he inhaled, he was still able to kick the guy away then make a run for it.
After running six or seven blocks in a haze, his body began to give up. He sagged against a wall in an alley about 2 blocks away from his– Loid Forger’s apartment. Why was he making his way towards his fake family instead of the WISE safehouse is a question that remains unanswered. He felt as though with every shaky breath he took, he was only worsening his condition. He continuously thought of the life he built for Loid Forger and became upset over the fact he could not protect them. No, he was upset because he could not protect the world. Are they part of the world? Were they his world? Tears finally spilled as he drifted into unconsciousness.
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It was 2:23 AM when the Thorn Princess was making her way towards the target site. She was already more than two hours late and hoped that they were still there. Over the past couple weeks The Garden has been assigning her the task to “lighten the load” of dealers participating in large drug trafficking rings. She was always told to leave about half or less alive, and to leave the scene by 1:00 AM. She did not understand the reason for these peculiar instructions, but she believed in The Garden’s mission and ideals enough to follow them without question. As she walked towards the scene she found herself lost in thought on how disappointed Shopkeeper will be when discovering her tardiness. She was becoming increasingly anxious that she almost did not notice the unconscious man lying in an alleyway on the way there.
She found her pace increasing as she approached the man, realizing the blond hair shadowing his face was all too familiar. A million questions came hurling down like a heavy hurricane storm to the Thorn Princess’ mind, disrupting her thought process. What is Loid doing here? Why is he unconscious? Shopkeeper– no he’s way more important. Loid? Loid? Loid? When did he come out? Loid? The all black outfit, I’ve never seen him wear. Loid????? There were a million things that Yor felt needed an explanation, but she knew at the end of her five seconds of confusion that his condition needed to be tended to as soon as possible. She was already late for her assignment anyways, this right here is something she has a better chance of resolving.
As Yor hastily took off his coat to wrap around his stomach to stop the bleeding, her face was brought close to his being. Instead of the subtle scent of shampoo and his cologne, she smelled something more skunky and rancid. After tying the makeshift bandage, Yor took notice of the rapidity of her heart and the bothersome scent being emitted from Loid. She contemplated for a moment how she never knew much about Loid’s personal life or past– despite living with him– and the situation she found herself in does not have an obvious explanation. The smell though, it was as if when Yor smelled it her brain was no better than a blown fuse. It was the drug that she found herself destroying every night, after of course taking the lives of the traffickers. In sickness or in health right? Or maybe even getting involved in drug trafficking rings too? She reached for the antidote that she kept when going on these missions to find an empty cavity. This cavity made her heart ache just as a cavity in a tooth would. She must have left it at home in her rush out.
She rubbed his temple with her thumb, feeling the slickness of his hairline with sweat.
“Loid? Loid, can you hear me?”
Nothing.
Always reliable, alert, and strong. Loid Forger seemed to consistently be that type of person in Yor’s life. She has never had someone to rely on since her parents died in the war, Loid being that person has brought so much reassurance and ease into her life. Seeing him here, vulnerable and powerless made her feel so unsure and powerless. Despite these feelings weighing heavily on her heart and shoulders, something had to be done.
Primarily thanks to her superhuman strength, Yor carried Loid bridal style and booked it to their home. She was sprinting towards home, hoping it was not too late.