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kyber-crystal · 9 months

Text

learning to warm cold hands || ethan hunt

summary: after a particular mission, sunshine isn’t sunshine anymore, and it worries him. (aka a cliche angst to fluff fic with the following tropes: slightly sunshine and super sunshine, who did this to you, etc)

words: ~1.4k

warnings: angst, brief descriptions of violence, ethan being overly concerned for reader, but not much else asides from that

a/n: first ethan fic (requested by a lovely anon, thank you!!) and second mission impossible fic! btw, this fic is kind of an AU? i don't have a specific timeline for when it happens, so you can squeeze it in wherever :)

“Y/N, status update?”

“Northwest exit, 430 meters. I have one on my tail. But you know I’m Usain Bolt 2.0! I can definitely outrun this doofus, I mean, I bet my mile time is way better than his. I could've gone to the Olympics, for God’s sake. The Olympics! Where are you?”

“Stay there, I’ll come find you.”

“Ethan, wait, you can't just tell me to—“ You don’t even get to finish before a an explosive sound echoes across the narrow alleyway. You make a sharp left turn but find that you’d just hit a dead end. The door was locked. Shit. You only had one bullet left and there was a guy who was definitely at least twice your weight—and over a foot taller, too—coming after you. You wouldn't even have enough time to reload.

“Y/N. Y/N—“

You don’t get to hear the rest of what he’s saying before the static fizzes out and you lose connection.

“Hey there!” You give the beefy man who’s now mere meters away from you a cheerful smile. “Lovely weather today, don’t you think? Too bad it’s going to rain tomorrow. I love the rain but I hate lightning, because I almost got struck a year ago.”

He doesn't look too happy at this, whipping his gun out without a moment’s hesitation. You squeeze your eyes shut and pray as you slide the bullet in and he pins you against the wall by your neck.

He brings the gun to your head, and your weapon clatters to the ground. You curse under your breath. You can feel your airways constricting and there's a searing pain working its way through you.

“You're not going anywhere, princess.”

There's a split-second; a microsecond in which he pauses. Very briefly. You don't think, just do—you knee him in the groin, hard, and quickly grab the knife that's sheathed in your boot.

Saying one last prayer, you plunge the blade in, not even looking to see if you'd aimed right. He falls to the floor, stumbling, and you then lunge forward to disarm him.

Another deafening gunshot rings out just as Ethan rounds the corner and finds you there, standing over the man’s dead body like the angel of death. A pool of blood surrounds your feet, and he doesn't think he wants to know if that's yours or his.

“You made it out alive. Good job out there.”

Glancing over at him, you nod, but don't say anything. You toss him the data files without another word, and board the plane.

“I'm proud of you.”

More strained silence. Huh, weird… he thinks.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

No response. Ethan repeats himself again, “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

You strap yourself into your seat and tilt your head back, digging your nails into your wrist. Anything was better than being awake right now…

“Well, someone's uncharacteristically quiet.”

Still no response. Not even a snarky quip like you'd typically reply with. No nicknames, no bickering, no random fun fact you googled on the way over here. “Did you know that a pig can digest an entire human body, bones and all? That makes me think a little extra every time we pass through the European countryside and see one of them.”

All he gets is silence from your end, and it starts to worry him.

That’s when he follows your gaze downwards. You're clutching the left side of your abdomen, trying your best not to make a sound.

His blood runs cold and his eyes darken. You can feel the pure rage radiating off him.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No…shit…Sherlock…” you croak out.

“You're hurt.”

No response again.

“Y/N, what the hell happened out there and who did this to you?”

More silence.

“Y/N, what did he do to you? How did he hurt you?”

After several more questions and several more failed replies, he forcefully moves your hand aside. Your shirt is stained a deep red and there's a gaping hole much bigger than Ethan wanted to see.

“You got shot.” He sighs. “Luther, how much longer?”

“Hour and five, but we can get there in 38.”

“Hurry.”

“On it.”

Ilsa brings him a thick roll of bandages. He tries to be as careful as possible as he disinfects and wraps up your torso, but every so often, you wince in pain.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, just a few more minutes,” Ethan hurriedly apologizes. “Hang in there for me, okay?”

Once he's done, he sits down next to you and laces your fingers together, giving your hand a squeeze. You let out a shuddering sigh and slumped against him.

He pretends not to notice your watering eyes, or the crescent-shaped marks in your wrist. Or the way your left foot nervously taps out the rhythm to yours and his favorite song. Or the way your tears leave faint red tracks behind as they slip down your cheeks.

“I'm so sorry,” he repeats over and over again, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You don't sleep a wink that night. On any other day in Paris, you'd walk down to the farmer’s market below. You’d pick out Ethan’s favorite fruit and a new beret to have him wear jokingly, and maybe grab a croissant or two. Then you’d drag him along to the Louvre and point out each painting one by one and explain in great detail why you loved them so much. And he’d listen, because he could live purely off the sound of your voice for the rest of his life. He was never one for museums, but you loved them, and because he loved you, he started to love them, too.

But it's dark out, and after what had just happened the other day, you don't feel safe enough to leave the apartment. You tossed and turned for over half an hour before falling asleep, but jolted awake just a few minutes later, shivering violently. There was no way you were going to try and go to sleep again.

Ethan stirs awake, rubbing his eyes to see a dark figure slipping out the door.

He's quick to follow you up the staircase and to the rooftop. You're standing there in just a T-shirt (was that his?) and shorts, and it's freezing cold out, but you're sweating and fanning yourself.

“Y/N?”

You turn around at the sound of his voice. “Ethan…”

“What are you doing up here? I was worried about you.” He makes his way over to you and puts a hand on your shoulder, obvious concern on his face.

You bit your lip and started digging your nails into your wrist again.

“Talk to me, Y/N,” he pleaded. “Tell me what's wrong.”

You shook your head, feeling the skin of your wrist beginning to sting.

“Y/N, please. I want to help you. But I can’t do that when you won't talk to me, so please…tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m so tired, Ethan,” you finally spoke after a long pause, voice hoarse. “I should’ve—I shouldn’t be here right now, I should be dead because I panicked and I…I almost died. The man, he put the gun to my head and I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. I could’ve sworn to God that the whole ‘thing’ about you seeing your life flash by like a film reel was just a myth but it wasn’t. It scared the shit out of me because I kept seeing the same thing over and over. I thought…”

“What did you see?” he asked, voice gentle.

“I kept seeing your face. All I saw was your face.” You looked away, suddenly unable to make eye contact with him. Heat spreads across your cheeks. “I know I care about the whole damn team, but you—you’re my future, Ethan.”

He doesn’t say anything in response and instead, leans down to kiss you.

The sudden rush of warmth from his lips being pressed against yours makes you want to forget everything in the world and completely drown in him. This was home, you realized, and this is where I’m supposed to be.

And as the sun rises and spreads a brilliant pale glow over the horizon, Ethan can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was also exactly where he was meant to be. Not fighting bad guys, but rather, standing on the rooftop of a tiny building in the 4th arrondissement with you in his arms and your head against his heart. He thinks he could have a lifetime of this.

“You’re my future, too.”

tags (including those who may be interested! add yourself via this form, if you’d like): @mitchellpete @voguesir @fl0ating @lady-elena-adeline @the-multiverse-of-fandoms @ilsastrenchcoat @joyfullyswimmingface

#mission impossible #mission impossible fic #ethan hunt #tom cruise #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt x you #ethan hunt fic #ethan hunt imagine #mission impossible fanfic #mission impossible: rogue nation #mission impossible: fallout #mission impossible: dead reckoning #dead reckoning part one

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justabigassnerd · 7 months

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First (Official) Meeting

Pairing - Ethan Hunt x daughter!reader

Word count - 4,734

Warnings - mentions of bombs, violence, death threats, fears of abandonment

Summary - a month after catching Solomon Lane, you meet Ilsa for the first official time, this time without the bombs and threats

A/N - it took about twenty years but I'm finally here with a new Lil' Hunt fic! (did anyone cheer?) I am so sorry this took so long my motivation is all over the freaking place idk what's going on. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

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After finally catching Solomon Lane and ending the Syndicate. Ethan knew he had found someone he could trust in Ilsa. She saved his life more than once and even protected you after Lane kidnapped you and used you as a bargaining chip to get the disk he craved so much. Due to the dangers of both Ethan and Ilsa’s jobs, they weren’t able to keep in regular contact for the sake of remaining as safe as possible in between missions.

You were more than okay with that fact. You knew Ilsa had saved not only your dad but you too, but you couldn’t shake the off feeling you had about her. You just couldn’t forget what went down in the train station mere minutes before Lane’s men grabbed you and hauled you off. You heard Ilsa and your dad talking, your dad trying to get her to help the IMF out, and Ilsa had talked about how the IMF wouldn’t need him soon enough, and that he’d be discarded once they deemed fit. And after saying that you heard her asking Ethan to run away with her. It crushed you. The silence that followed hurt even more. You expected Ethan to shut Ilsa down, to say there was no way he was leaving you, Benji, and Luther behind. But his silence signalled to you that he was genuinely considering it. That he, even for a moment, thought about leaving his team behind. You knew that your dad probably didn’t want a kid while being an agent. His silence spoke volumes to you as you pulled the comm out of your ear and muttered ‘I need some air’ to Benji before walking off right into the hands of Lane’s men.

After you had been rescued and you, Ethan and the team were back stateside, Ethan had noticed a change in your demeanour. You were quiet, less involved in conversations and barely gave him a second glance. You were disappearing off to the sanctuary of your room moments after eating dinner. Ethan couldn’t blame you for your shift in behaviour. You’d been held captive and forced to have an explosive vest strapped to you while in your dad’s presence. It was natural for anyone to be shaken up in that situation, but it didn’t stop Ethan from being worried about you. It took several attempts on Ethan’s part to get you to open up about the kidnapping and the events that transpired before. It happened one night after you had a nightmare, Ethan had heard your cries and rushed into the room, gun in hand as he quickly surveyed for danger before rushing to your side, pulling you into his arms and helping you find your breath. He didn’t force you to talk, he just wiped your tears and let you recover in your own time. However, once you recovered your breath, he never could have anticipated your next words.

“Were you really going to leave us to run away with Ilsa?” Your voice was barely a whisper, thick with tears and Ethan would’ve missed it entirely had you not been curled up in his arms. At your words, Ethan was instantly shaking his head.

“No, I could never.” He says, unable to believe you’d think such a thing.

“But when she asked, you went silent. It was like you were genuinely considering it.” You argue, another wave of tears attacking you, making you curl further into your father and grab a fistful of his shirt as if it will singlehandedly keep him with you no matter what.

“The question took me off guard, sweetheart. I could never leave you, Benji, and Luther behind. Either we all go or none of us go. I promise you; I’m not leaving you, ever.” Ethan knew it was a big promise he was making, especially given his line of work and the constant danger that followed him around like an eager puppy. You spent the rest of the night before you fell back asleep, talking to your dad about everything you had been feeling since London and he did his best to comfort and support you. Talking to your dad about how you felt which led to you beginning to reintegrate back into the group which made all three men incredibly happy at getting to see you smile and involve yourself with everyone again after a month of nothing more than one-word answers and curt nods.

One day, a couple of days after you started returning to your normal self, Ethan found himself walking around the local area. There was no suspicious activity, nor any mission for him to be on, he was just overly cautious and channelled that energy into going on a walk so he could keep an eye out for anyone who may want to cause harm. As Ethan wandered around a nearby park, eyes surveying every person present in the ways only an IMF agent could before he caught a glimpse of an all-familiar face.

Ilsa was stood a way away, sunglasses sat on her face, but Ethan knew it was her. He’d always be able to recognise her in a crowd, even with the most intricate of disguises. She didn’t do any more than offer a tiny smile before Ethan began gravitating towards her. He hadn’t seen her since everything that went down with Solomon Lane in London, and he just wanted to see how she was doing.

“Ilsa.” Ethan breathed the second he reached her, embracing her in a gentle hug that she is quick to reciprocate.

“How have you been, Ethan?” Her voice is no louder than a soft whisper by his ear as she speaks, widening Ethan’s smile as he holds her.

“I’ve been okay for the most part. How are you?” Ethan admits, pulling away to look Ilsa in the eye as she removes her sunglasses, setting them atop her head.

“Still figuring things out. But I’m doing okay.” Ilsa says, nodding and keeping her small smile on her face, forever trying to be strong and not let her defences down, even in Ethan’s presence.

“You should come to the safe house, lay low with us for a while and get to know my team a little better.” Ethan offered; voice low as he briefly glanced around to make sure there was nobody mingling nearby. Everyone in the park was too busy doing their own thing, walking with a loved one, playing fetch with their dog, or playing catch with their kid. Ilsa debated Ethan’s words for a moment, thinking of what her alternative options could be until she finally reached a conclusion to the debate in her head as she nodded.

“Okay, but only for a few days. I’ll have to move on again soon.” Ilsa says, receiving a gentle nod from Ethan in return. He wasn’t overly keen on the fact that Ilsa had to keep moving around but if it kept her safer then he wouldn’t stop her, not that he could ever stop her from doing something once she’s set her mind on it. After getting the okay from Ilsa, Ethan began to lead her back to the safe house, both agents on their guard the whole walk, expecting danger to appear at any given moment. Thankfully, both agents made it back to the safe house unharmed and entered the building, hearing the sound of laughter and following it to where you, Benji, and Luther were sitting around the table, clearly laughing at something someone had said. All heads turned to look at Ethan as he walked in, and Ethan didn’t miss how you smiled at him and then your smile faltered when your eyes flicked over to Ilsa. There was a tense silence after the laughter died out which was soon replaced by the sound of chair legs scraping across the floor.

“I need the bathroom.” You mutter, quickly excusing yourself and rushing off as Benji and Luther watch you leave before exchanging a glance before Luther gets up and heads into your room, knowing that’s exactly where you will head once you’ve hidden away in the bathroom for a moment. Benji stayed put and glanced back at Ilsa.

“You alright?” Benji said, lifting his hand for the slightest wave as Ilsa nodded, immediately noting the tension filling the room. Despite that, Ethan invited her further in, inviting her to take a seat and get used to the house. As Ilsa perched on the edge of a seat, sat on guard, ready for any potential attack, Ethan pulled Benji aside.

“What was that for?” He hisses lowly, making Benji raise an eyebrow.

“I just said ‘you alright’ I didn’t know you had a problem with that. Look Ilsa’s British she’ll get it.” Benji started, defending his actions when Ethan shushed him.

“No, not that. You, Luther, and y/n gave a weird look when Ilsa walked in. What was that for?” Ethan reiterates, watching as Benji clears his throat awkwardly, glancing over Ethan’s shoulder to make sure Ilsa wasn’t eavesdropping before looking back at Ethan.

“Have you forgotten that she tried to kill me that night at the opera?” Benji says, eyes wide at the thought that Ethan might have chosen to overlook that fact.

“Didn’t she kill the guy who was trying to kill you?” Ethan asks, eyebrow raised as he counters Benji’s point.

“Well, what about when she used those shock paddles on me to get away with the disk?” Benji then argues, remembering the pain of the paddles against his back all too well, fighting back a shiver as he remembers it.

“She was being forced to do that stuff, Benji. Did you forget that she helped me rescue y/n? Or that she helped us catch Lane?” Ethan counters, watching as Benji begins to shuffle, fighting his hardest not to look awkward under Ethan’s glare.

“No I didn’t forget that… but-”

“Benji, you need to stop judging her on past actions. You trust me, right?” Ethan cuts Benji off, knowing it won’t do anyone any good to have tensions like this within the safe house. Upon hearing Ethan’s question, Benji softened.

“Of course I trust you.” He answers, watching Ethan nod before speaking again.

“I trust Ilsa. If you don’t feel ready to trust her yet, then that’s fine but at least trust my judgement here.” Ethan says, his voice low as he looks at Benji, watching as his friend nods slightly.

“Okay, Ethan.” Benji says, looking down like a child getting scolded and Ethan nods once more before backing away to join Ilsa while Benji remains where he was stood.

As Benji and Ethan were talking, you had entered your room after hiding away in the bathroom to collect your thoughts and nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Luther perched on your bed.

“Jeez Luther, a little warning would be nice.” You say, a nervous laugh tagged onto the end of your sentence as you close the door behind you.

“I apologise. I just wanted to check in with you. I saw the way you reacted when Ilsa walked in.” Luther says gently as you cross to sit next to him on the bed, instantly fiddling with your hands and avoiding eye contact.

“I’m okay, Luther.” You say, barely glancing up at him as he frowns, not trusting your words.

“y/n, it’s okay to not be okay. I can help if you tell me. I won’t tell your dad if you don’t want me to.” Luther urges, watching as you think on his words, debating whether you open up to him or not.

“Promise you won’t tell dad?” You whisper, looking back up at Luther as he begins nodding instantly.

“You don’t want me to tell him, I won’t tell him.” Luther promises, his voice never straying from his gentle tone. With confirmation that this conversation won’t make its way to your father, you nod your head and begin to talk.

“You already know that Ilsa was there when I had that bomb strapped to my chest. But she said to dad’s face that her instructions after getting the disk for Lane were to kill me and him. I know she didn’t, and maybe she never would’ve even given the chance, but hearing something like that is terrifying, Luther. And even if she hadn’t done that… I don’t know Ilsa that well and I’m scared she’ll be like every other outsider who’s come to the team.” You admit quietly, looking down at your wrist and fiddling with the silver charm bracelet that sat happily on your wrist. Luther took in your words carefully nodding as he listened to you speak and understanding where you were coming from. Before replying, Luther silently asked permission to bring you in for a hug which you accepted instantly, always happy to have a hug from anyone in your family.

“You have every right to be cautious after what happened. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?” Luther starts, feeling you nod slightly against him.

“I understand why you’re so cautious about someone from outside the team coming here for a while. You have every right to feel the way you’re feeling. However, I would recommend you try and at least be civil with Ilsa. She’s on our side she was just in a bad situation.” Luther urged softly, looking down at you as you shifted slightly in his embrace to look up at him.

“I know I should. I know dad likes her a lot as well. But it’ll be so hard.” You admit, embarrassed to admit it but Luther just nods softly, no hint of judgement on his face.

“Just do your best Lil’ Hunt.”

It turned out that your best was sitting in the furthest possible corner with your head in a book and avoiding any and all conversation with Ilsa.

Over the days that Ilsa was staying at the safe house, she made significant progress in building trust between herself and Ethan’s other team members. Luther pretty much trusted her straight out of the gate, Luther had used Ilsa as a way to track down Ethan when both Ethan and Benji had disappeared to hunt for Lane. Luther had known that Ethan trusted Ilsa and since Luther trusted Ethan, he had no reason to doubt Ethan’s judgement. Benji was a tougher nut to crack, he was cautious because of the alleged two times she tried to kill him, but after a day or two Benji conversed with her a little more and they began to form a friendship of sorts.

You, however, were much more difficult to get through to. Ilsa couldn’t blame you, after all, you had heard her admitting Lane’s orders were for her to get the disk and then kill both you and Ethan. Ilsa, of course, never would’ve followed that order, despite her cover she never would’ve been able to bring herself to kill you or your father, but you didn’t know how far she’d go to maintain cover. Ilsa figured that you believed she would’ve done it for the sake of her cover. Ilsa wished to be able to prove to you that you can trust her, she knew Ethan told you multiple times a day that you could talk to her to try and build up a bond, you were just struggling with everything.

One day, Ilsa had seen you reading a book that she recognised. In mostly working alone Ilsa often fell to reading books to provide herself with comfort and gave her a way to pass the time. Taking a deep breath, Ilsa crossed the room and eased herself down on one of the other chairs around the table, keeping a good distance between you and her as she gauged your reaction. You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye briefly before turning your attention back to your book.

“Hi y/n, how’s the book?” Ilsa asks tentatively, watching as you shrug and let out a slight hum in response.

“You know that book is one of my favourites so if you ever want to talk about it, I’m more than happy to chat about it with you.” Ilsa then offers, receiving another hum and shrug. You were not playing ball and Ilsa could tell. You were trying to keep a barrier between the two of you and Ilsa didn’t want to force herself into your life if you really wanted nothing to do with her. With a small sigh, Ilsa got up from the chair and left you be, not wanting to disturb or upset you. As she crossed the room, she made eye contact with Ethan who offered her a small smile and a mouthed apology on your behalf.

Ethan, without even knowing of the conversation you had with Luther the day Ilsa arrived, knew exactly why you were shutting down and acting this way. He couldn’t fault you for being cautious. And he couldn’t blame you for worrying about how Ilsa may treat you, especially given how a lot of IMF agents have treated you in recent years.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Ethan said as he entered your room, a gentle smile on his face as he crossed the room and perched on the edge of your bed, watching you put your book down and smile at him.

“Hi, dad.” You reply, expecting him to give you a hug and ask you about your day before bidding you goodnight as he usually did each night.

“I’ve noticed you’ve not really spoken to Ilsa. Is this because of London?” He asks, noticing you tensing slightly at his words, glancing away from him before looking back at him and nodding lightly.

“And because I’m scared she’ll be like the others.” You admit meekly, fiddling with a loose thread on your duvet cover to distract yourself from seeing the potential upset in your dad’s eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart. Ilsa’s not like them I promise you that. And I know she’d never hurt you either.” Ethan says softly, he’s not the first person to tell you that but hearing it from him eased your mind slightly. He was there when you had the bomb strapped to your chest. He heard the threats yet still trusted Ilsa to help him catch Lane.

“If you give her a chance, I bet you’ll see how well the two of you will be able to get on. You trust your old man, right?” Ethan continues, moving further up the bed to pull you into his arms which you accept instantly, curling into him.

“I trust you.” You reply, head resting just above his heart as you listen to the steady thumping.

“I wouldn’t willingly encourage this if I didn’t trust Ilsa. She’s someone I care about and who I know you’ll learn to like too. Don’t tell her I said this, but she likes you already.” Ethan says gently, his chest rumbling gently under your head with each word spoken.

“She does?” You question, lifting your head slightly to look up at him as he smiles down at you.

“Oh definitely. When we went our separate ways after catching Lane, the last thing she said to me was ‘watch out for y/n, she’s a good kid’.” Ethan says, the words burned into his memory. He saw the slight smile that crossed your lips before you buried yourself back into his chest.

“I’ll try to make more of an effort with her.” You promise, beginning to realise that if Ilsa really was as bad as your mind was making her out to be, she’s had several opportunities to wipe out you and the team or steal valuable IMF information. Instead, she’s been hanging out with everyone, getting to know them that little bit more. And with your dad’s words swirling around your head, you went to bed that night with a whole new perspective.

The next day, by the time you’d rolled out of bed and showered, you entered the main room to find your dad, Ilsa, Benji, and Luther sitting around the table conversing about something that, judging by the looks on their faces, could be serious. You didn’t want to disturb them, but you were curious, so you remained where you were stood, listening to them discussing the suspicious activity Luther had picked up on and listening to them discussing how to deal with it. Everyone seemed to have different ideas, and no one was able to agree with the other.

“y/n, what do you think?” Ilsa had noticed you walk in and how you mingled nearby to listen. You were Ethan’s daughter, and she was sure you’d be able to come up with a good plan of attack. When no one shut down Ilsa trying to involve you, you spoke up as an idea came to mind.

“Since you guys don’t actually know if it’s a genuine threat or just petty crime you could just go on a walk around, have a look around. But take Ilsa with you as well. Benji and Luther can run extra surveillance from here.” You suggest, shrugging lightly as the team exchanges a look, nodding in agreement before looking back at you.

“That sounds like a pretty good plan, y/n.” Benji says with a grin, both he and Luther instantly turning their attention to their laptops and hacking into what they need to gain access to cameras in the nearby area. As Ethan and Ilsa prep to go out, Ilsa crosses to you, a nervous expression you’ve never seen on her before displayed across her face.

“You’re really okay with me going with your dad on this?” She asks softly, watching the soft smile covering your face as you nod.

“I am. I trust you and I know you’ll bring my dad back.” You say and Ilsa swore she could’ve fallen apart right then and there. She doesn’t know what happened overnight to make you trust her, but you were trusting her to go out on surveillance with Ethan and knew she’d bring him back to you.

“I won’t let you down.” Ilsa promises quietly just as Ethan calls over to her, now ready to head out and you watch her cross to your dad, the two of them sharing a smile and a nod before heading out of the door.

While Ethan and Ilsa were investigating where they’d heard of suspicious activities taking place, Ethan figured that now was a good time as any to have a private chat with Ilsa. Turning off his comm after informing Benji he’s going to do it, he motions for Ilsa to do the same and once she’s done so he speaks up.

“I noticed you talking to y/n before we left, and she was smiling. Making progress?” He asks, kicking aside a damp cardboard box to look for any evidence of the activities he’d heard of.

“A little. She was saying that she trusts me and knows I’ll get you back in one piece.” Ilsa replies with a small smile, already playing the moment back in her head.

“She’s had it rough. A lot of people from outside the team would see her and subsequently see a burden.”

“But she’s not.” Ilsa cuts in, quickly apologising to Ethan who shakes his head with a slight chuckle before sobering up to continue with what he was saying.

“Of course, she’s not. But a lot of people did think that and would treat her pretty badly. It’s why she struggles with opening up to new people. It’s only ever been me, Benji, and Luther her whole life so when she’s supposed to trust people who treat her badly… it’s hard on her.” Ethan continues, peeking around an alley corner and heading down it with Ilsa close behind.

“I’d never treat her like that.” Ilsa swears as Ethan glances at her, the smallest of smiles on his face.

“I know you won’t. And I think she’s beginning to know that too.”

Back at the safe house, you were awaiting Ethan and Ilsa’s return after both of them cut off their comms. Neither Benji or Luther could pick up on any suspicious activity and figured that the two would be back before too long. As predicted, the two came in within fifteen minutes muttering how it was a dead end that pointed to nothing more than petty crime. You hugged your dad instantly upon his arrival, which he of course reciprocated before you crossed to Ilsa.

“Thank you.” You say, looking up at her as she nods with a smile.

“I said I wouldn’t let you down.” Ilsa replies with a wink as you smile.

“You know… I’m halfway through that book you said you liked if you wanted to talk about it with me?” You offer, noticing how Ilsa’s eyes immediately lit up and you grab your book off the table before heading to the sofa with her. You both sit on the sofa as you begin to animatedly talk about the parts you’ve read, including the big midpoint plot twist. Ilsa engaged with your thoughts and shared some of her own, both of you grinning.

“Did we just get replaced? That fast?” Benji says incredulously, watching you and Ilsa interact while Ethan and Luther chuckle.

“We’re not being replaced, Benji.” Luther assures his friend, clapping him on the shoulder as all three men watch you with smiles of their own.

For the rest of the day you hung out with Ilsa, getting to know her and her getting to know you. You were so thankful that every question she asked was about getting to know you and not just your dad. Everyone who spent time with the team tried so hard to get information about Ethan from you. But Ilsa was different. She genuinely wanted to get to know you and you had so much fun getting to hang out with her. It was also nice to have another girl to talk to, being able to get advice and help about certain topics you struggled talking to your dad about. When it came time to go to bed you found yourself wishing you could stay up all night talking with her, but you didn’t want to be any more of a nuisance, so you left her be with a goodnight before heading to your room to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up eager to continue your book chat with Ilsa after reading a few more chapters before going to sleep but when you showered and changed and entered the main room you saw Ilsa slinging her back over her shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You question, looking from person to person awaiting an answer.

“I’m going somewhere else y/n. I was only planning to stay a few days anyway.” Ilsa says, speaking softly as you approach her, all sorts of emotions displayed on your face as you try to process everything.

“You can’t stay a bit longer?” You ask, fighting back a frown when she shakes her head with a gentle smile.

“It’s safer for all of us if I move on.” She explains and you understood her reasons, though it didn’t mean you liked it.

“Is there a way I can keep in contact with you?” You then ask, watching as Ilsa nods, pulling out her phone and getting her number out for you to copy down into your own phone.

“Now you can message me whenever you want.” She says as both of you tuck your phones away. As she starts to say her goodbyes to Benji, Luther, and your dad you start to regret taking so long to open up to her.

“Goodbye y/n.” Ilsa says, turning back to you when you suddenly wrap your arms around her for a hug, smiling when you feel her arms wrap around you.

“Goodbye Ilsa, I’ll miss you.” You whisper before pulling away.

“I’ll miss you too. I can’t imagine it’ll be too long until we see each other again.” Ilsa says, her smile never leaving her face as you nod, watching her bid one last goodbye to everyone before exiting the safe house.

While you were upset you hadn’t spent as much time as you now wished you had with Ilsa, her words comforted you slightly. She was right, you’d see each other again.

It was just a matter of time.

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