It was past midnight, yet Amar couldn't help but toss and turn. Sleep should have come easy—he had barely slept the last few days. The pain meds for his fractured hand were finally fading off, and the sting of the wound was slowly growing sharper. But something about his conversation at the train station didn't sit right with him.

He had been getting down from the train, struggling to manage his luggage single-handedly, when someone stepped in and rather abruptly took his trolley and suitcase for him.

The person in front of him could have dyed his hair black, but Amar would have recognised him anywhere. There was no mistaking the sharpness in his dark brown eyes—they were a reflection of his own.

Amar hadn't seen David for the better part of five years—ever since he turned eighteen and disappeared with his gifts.

Some things had changed since then. For the better, perhaps. David had clearly filled out into his body, no longer the tall, lanky teen Amar remembered, but a broad-shouldered young man who looked like he were used to carrying burdens heavier than mare suitcases.

Amar suppressed the relief that stirred in his chest on seeing him alive. It was the least he could feel, he realized, after what he'd done to his mother. But for now, he forced himself into a neutral tone as he greeted him. "Good to see you too, Dave."

David didn't meet his eyes. His voice was clipped— not so different from the boy he'd once known. "I don't go by that name anymore, Old Man."

For the record, Amar wasn't even twice his age, but he let the jab slide. He was just grateful that the boy wasn't behind bars, despite his quick to anger attitude and violent impulses. Or maybe it was something that happened just around him.

"What would you have me call you instead?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Is this your way of volunteering to share your new identity?"

David snorted. "What use would that be? The whole point of that name was to give me a life of my own, disconnected from you."

Amar nodded slowly, conceding the point. "Then I suppose I've no choice but to call you what I know you by."

David muttered under his breath, "I suppose so."

Amar bit back a smile. He had no intention of fueling David's anger any more than absolutely necessary.

"So, was this just a coincidence—" Amar started, knowing damn well it wasn't.

David bit right in. "For someone with access to all kinds of resources like you do, you sure as hell have no idea of what's going on under your own nose!" He snapped, pulling the trolley roughly behind him.

Amar didn't want to lose the conversation to their emotions this soon. After all, he had no idea of when he'd see him next. "I don't misuse my privilege, Dave. You of all people should be grateful for that. And for your information, I'm confident that I know enough."

David looked up at the sky then, cursing the gods above under his breath—a odd habit he'd picked up from his mother, even if he wasn't old enough to remember her.

For whatever it's worth, he was glad David didn't beat around the bush, and got straight to the point. "Your niece needs to know the truth."

That stopped Amar cold. Of all the topics he'd expected to argue with David about today, this hadn't even made it to the list. "First thing, stop calling her my niece. She's my daughter, whether you accept it or don't. And secondly, I don't see how that is any of your goddamn business. I'll tell her when the time is right."

"You can't still be going on with that nonsense, except you can, because you know nothing!" David muttered, suddenly bringing them both to a halt. "She's been under your care for fifteen years, Amar. This little play at house might have made sense in the beginning, but it needs to end now."

Amar twisted his arm free from his grip, his voice tightening with a warning edge. "I have been in this business a lot longer than you've been born. I know what I'm doing. And what is going on with you? Why are you so interested in her all of a sudden?"

David didn't flinch, his fury climbing faster. "I was never interested in her, but I thought you knew what you were doing. That was until Voltaire's most loyal butler started snooping around—asking questions about your daughter."

Amar froze. "Are you kidding me? What the hell was Ivanov doing here? That old man hates leaving their mansion in Russia."

David pried his arm free and jabbed a finger into Amar's chest now. "Apparently, he had urgent business with his young master and coincidentally came face to face with her at a party. He talked to Hillary. Was inches from her. And you didn't even know." he mocked.

Amar's stomach dropped. His whole life flashed before his eyes and a thousand thoughts tried moving through his mind at the same time. "Does Voltaire know?" he finally whispered, terrified to know the answer.

David sighed, "Not yet. I fed him fabricated documents. Ivanov thinks she's the daughter of your colleague, who also happens to be your neighbour. Her red eyes are supposedly a rare mutation—retinal albinism."

Amar stared at him. "How the hell do you even know who all I work with? And that his family lives right beside our house?"

David shrugged, "Unlike you, I don't carry much of a moral obligation when I've got to get a job done."

Amar ran his hand through his hair, trying to take deep breaths.

When he heard of his baby girl inches away from that old butler of Voltaire's, he had panicked.

Now that the immediate threat wasn't hanging over his head, Amar could think again. "But still... how did you get this information? Who did he ask about Hillary?" he asked, already thinking of ways to neutralize the target if he had any solid evidence.

David looked away then, folding his hands. "When I said he was snooping around, I meant—he came to me and asked me to investigate it for him."

Amar could hardly believe what he'd just heard. This had to be some kind of sick joke, the dark humour kind which he didn't get but this generation apparently loved.

But there wasn't a hint of amusement on David's face. Amar dragged both hands down his face, feeling drained. "What did you get yourself into this time?"

The response was lightning fast. David was defensive now, could feel his walls going up. "That's none of your goddamned business." he snapped.

Amar's anger spiked at this. Every time he thinks he has the situation under control when it comes to David, every time he thinks that there wasn't anything worse he could do, David had the uncanny ability to prove him wrong. "The hell it isn't! I tell you everything wrong with the Hiwataris. I warn you never to go near them—they'd flay you alive—and that's where you choose to work? And that too on the illegal side of everything!"

"I'll do whatever I want, old man!" was all David could come up with.

Amar didn't back down this time. "You don't know what you're getting into! They'll throw you under the bus the second you become a expandable. Or worse, a liability."

David's face darkened. His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "Then it's a good thing that I plan to remain an asset to them."

"Don't expect me to bail you out if things go downhill!" He warned.

"Wasn't planning to anyway." David snapped right back before continuing, "I'm telling you this one last time. It's my life. My business. I'm not obliged to tell you anything anymore. I'm not obliged to help you anymore, and yet, here I am. Remember this—hiding in plain sight is all fun until no one's looking. I was in the right place at the right time this time. But what about next time? It could very well cost you and your wife, your lives! And as for your daughter..." He paused, voice thick with contempt.

"Given what that other kid's been through, you'll be lucky if she winds up dead early on. Because whatever fate Voltaire would have in mind for her would would be so much worse."

Amar broke into a cold sweat just by trying to imagine such a scenario, "Don't say that—" he started, but David's voice was sharp and scathing. "What did you expect will happen when she got close to the one person she wasn't even supposed to meet until after Voltaire was long dead!"

Amar winced inwardly, but David wasn't done yet, "And what did you expect," he added cruelly, "when you helped that boy with his citizenship case by mailing him evidence?"

Amar blinked. It felt like he'd been slapped. "What—? I never sent him anything!"

David raised bis brow skeptically, pushing Amar to explain himself further. "I thought about it... but I didn't send it, I swear. I knew it'd only escalate the case with a slip chance of success, but it would have definitely gotten Voltaire involved. The future of his company would have been at stake, and governments of both the countries would be closely involved. Trust me when I day this, the last thing I would ever want is for Voltaire to turn his gaze towards Japan."

David studied him for a long moment, searching his eyes, scanning for any cracks in his explanation. Then, a humorless chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, then there's a snitch right in your house, and you had no idea."

It wasn't hard to figure out who the snitch was, given that his family consisted of three people, and only one of them knew about it other than him.

His very own wife, Natasha.

David winced internally, drawing the same conclusion. David had never met Natasha, but he knew there was some resentment directed towards her too. If not for her, both of their lives would have been radically different.

But still, he could see it in his eyes, David hadn't meant to bring a wedge between them. "I get it though," he tried salvaging the situation. "Kai was this close to escaping Russia for good. It's hard to sit still and watch him get dragged back into hell when you have the key right in your palm..."

But Amar couldn't bring himself to forgive her that easily. He'd trusted her with the information, and she had overstepped. She should've asked him, begged him, demanded it off him. Not do things behind his back.

David came to a stand still then, placing his luggage at the front gate. Amar hadn't realised they'd reached the pick-up point already. "Well, what's done is done," David concluded grimly. "But you'd better make sure it doesn't happen again, because there's no coming back from these kinds of mistakes. But i guess you already know that."

Amar turned to David fully then, hoping to thank him for everything, but David wasn't done yet. "Kai's a lost cause," he concluded sadly. "There's nothing you can do for him. But Hillary's different. Keep her safe as long as you can."

He paused then, as though annoyed by the thought. "And while we're talking about her—did it ever occur to you to get the girl some black contacts? And at the least get her to dye her hair? Try out a different hairstyle maybe? She's a breathing replica of her mother with that pale skin and light brown hair. The red eyes are a dead give-away too!" He exclaimed.

"It's a bloody miracle the boy doesn't remember his mother enough to recognize her in Hillary. But if Voltaire ever saw her as she is now, she'd be chained up and halfway to Moscow by the end of the day."

David stepped in closer, his voice harsh with frustration. "And for God's sake, teach her how to fight. Properly. No fencing nonsense. I mean actual fighting."

Amar shrunk back at this, offended. "There's no need for that! She's perfectly safe with me. I promised her mother I'd keep her safe, far away from all such—" but David cut right in.

"Stop being such a pompous prick for once!" he exploded. "You think you can protect her forever? You think Voltaire is the only monster in the world? What happens when you're not there? When no one is? Think about it." He stepped back then and exhaled.

"I guess we're done for now." He concluded, before adding, "And just so you know, we're even now," he muttered. "You saved my life once. Now I've repaid the favour... three times over."

"What do you mean?" Amar asked, confused. But David had already slipped into the crowd and disappeared, just like that.

A moment later, Natasha came up behind him and hugged him, startling him. His first response on seeing her was anger and betrayal, but then she saw the plaster on his hand and a moment later, her face had lost her smile.

"What happened?" She demanded, suddenly breathless. Her face crumpled in seconds, her eyes tearing up. "I don't understand. You said you'd never get back to the field again. That was the whole reason why I let you join back in the first place!-"

Amar cupped Natasha's face with his good arm, making her look him in the eye. "Love, Natasha... I'm alright, I swear!" He tried chuckling as he wiped away her tears, trying to calm her down.

Her worry quickly turned into anger ina matter of moments. "How long have you been going on field work behind my back?" She demanded instead, all softness gone.

Amar blinked at the sudden change of tone, feeling the whiplash. "I-not much. Just the important ones..."

"You mean to say the risky ones."

Amar shrugged, "Same difference."

Natasha narrowed her eyes at this, "So you won't even try to deny that this was a one time occurrence?"

"I don't lie unless I can get away with it." He commented, his lips twitchinv at that.

Natasha threw her hands up in the air. "What am I supposed to do with you? You're not as young as you used to be! You're pushing fifty as it is!"

Amar was horrified at the suggestion, "Hey, I'm only forty-three! And as far as I know, forty-three is not considered under 'pushing-fifty'!"

"I don't care! You know what, I don't want to have this discussion with you right now. Today's Hillary's big day and I don't want to mess it up because of you."

Amar's eyes brightened up in relief. He'll at least get a moment to explain himself when her head's cooler, he realised. Maybe he'll even be able to ask a few of his own questions then. 

"Works for me! Let's get going then. Now, give me a hand here. I'll- Wait a minute, where are you going?" He demanded when Natasha turned around and started walking to the car, not picking up either of the bags.

"I thought you said you were fine, honey!" She mocked him, before getting serious again. "You're out of your mind if you think I'll help you out when you've been deliberately lying to my face for the last five years!"

Amar threw up his hands. "Come on! I've only been on four of them since I went back-"

"I said I don't want to talk about it! If you were any smart, you'd quietly climb into the passenger seat in the next two minutes, or I'm leaving!" She warned him before marching ahead.

Amar muttered a few choice words before sighing. At least David had the decency to help him with his bags, he thought as he awkwardly balanced his bags and walked to their car.

The rest of the day went as planned. Attending the fundraiser, trying a few food stalls, enjoying the concert with a slightly pissed off wife and Mr Granger Senior.

But when he finally climbed into bed an hour ago,the conversation kept coming back to him, playing on loop in his mind. 

There was something off about the whole conversation, he concluded. But especially about how David's repayed him three times over.About how he's working for Voltaire despite what happened to his mother.

And the thought just wouldn't let him rest.

*****

Words: 2697

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A/N: Hey guys, hope you liked this chapter! I know this wasn't what you had been expecting today, but I hope I can still claim you guys are far from disappointed. I've been meaning to write a chapter from Amar's pov from the very beginning, but I didn't know where I'd fit it. Now you can see it, I guess. 

So, what do you think of Amar now? And David for that matter? The Favour repaid three times over, what are they? Do you guys even remember about the envelope Kai had received with a bundle of evidence from an anonymous sender? Hillary's torture scene had been going on then, so I'm not sure how many of you paid attention to it...  Overal, tell me what you think of this chapter? Any wild theories? I'd love to theorise with you, (and hopefully not stab you jn the back!) 

Anyway, I've decided to post the story according to the timeline itself, I just couldn't tie the story front and back. So I'll just rearrange the chapters here. This is the 50th chapter. The Paranoid chapter comes after this! 

Vote and comment guys! 

Happy reading!