" your mission, should you choose to accept it "
"should I accept to help you kill an innocent life or betray my own?"
[ethan hunt x oc]
[mission impossible]
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Trust. Whether you trust or distrust is your choice. It either leads us on a path of victory or friendship. Or it leads us to danger, failure, heartbreak. Trust is the element that breaks us. At one point we will always be at the top of our game. At the next point, our enemies will be holding a gun to our loved one's head. It's our choice to save one person or to save millions. That's the hard choice to make. The thing that breaks us, is seeing those eyes again. Just when they're about to shoot them. The eyes that stare at you seeking help, that pleads you to save them. Those pupils that break every part of you, like broken glass. No one will ever be safe. No one will ever be trustworthy. No one will ever be unbreakable... according to our missions, according partly to the IMF.
~~~
ETHAN HUNT stood in the middle of a room which seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. The walls were a dark grey, impossible for anyone to know where they were. It was his little interrogation room. He paced for a while, a small cut lay on his forehead from who knows what. His hair scruffy, but still in place. His sharp jaw and eyebrows furrowed. The thought of him going rouge messed his head up. The other thing that fucked him up, was that Benji and the other agents weren't back yet. What would they say when he had picked up a mysterious agent from the streets. Ethan knew he couldn't trust her, but he wanted her on the team. The payphone was a trap set. Earlier that week Benji hacked into the system to see if there were any good agents. Ethan had pointed agent Abrams out, however, Benji opposed saying it was dangerous. So, good ol' Ethan had to do it himself. He waited for Abrams to awake but in the meantime, his amusement was his feet. They moved in a rhythm only the best would notice. Heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe. It wasn't normal, there were no pauses. Ethan knew where he wanted to go, so there were no hesitations. Every time the tips of his toes hit the floor he thought of all the agents who would come back pissed at him. Even the usual people who always knew how he was. Heel-Benji, heel-Luna, heel-Miller, heel-Ilsa. At first, Hunt couldn't sense Abrams. She was very unpredictable and very confusing. He paced for a few more seconds before his body halted. His head tilted, looking at the awoken Scarlett Abrams. She didn't say anything, though she looked around a lot. Especially at him. Ethan didn't know whether she knew him. Scarlett was very attractive, her dreadlocks in a bun, her eyes, lips. A part of Ethan wished she didn't know him. Everyone who knew Ethan knew him for the dangerous part of him, the very tough masculine side. This was the field and if anyone was the best, Ethan knew they would have to go through emotional times. Ethan almost felt bad for the confused, handcuffed girl. Ethan did feel bad in a way.
"Who are you?" Abrams asked, her hands tugging at the zip ty handcuffs; triggering an almost sawing sound.
Ethan looked at the woman, as he gave her the most cheeky smile. Ethan was obviously attracted to her. Scarlett turned the worst tomato red, and she had no hands to hide it.
"Ethan Hunt."
The woman chuckled for a moment, then Scarlett's face went serious. Her eyes looked at Ethan's giving him a little smile; no teeth. This was her best smile, ever since her significant other died.
