Isabella

4

A few hours later, the lights had been dimmed, and silence had settled within the plane. The only three people awake were Deckard, Owen and Hobbs, but they were all trying their best to ignore one another.

In an attempt to distract himself from the occasional kick to his chair from his younger brother, Deckard gazed down at Isabella, who had her head resting comfortably against his strong shoulder. Her wavy, blonde locks were swept across her face, shielding her sleeping figure from the world. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but admire her, even from this angle. 

"What's the deal with her?" Hobbs broke the silence, trying to talk in a quiet tone, yet his booming voice was still enough to wake Isabella from her weak slumber. Nevertheless, she stayed perfectly still and played along, wanting to listen to their conversation to see if they could talk without an argument breaking out. 

"What are you rambling about now?" Deckard spat back, careful not to turn his body too fast to keep the supposedly sleeping woman still and unbothered. Owen glanced between the two from the row behind, crossing his arms across his chest with boredom. 

"Ford. What is she to you?" Hobbs pestered, attempting to stretch his abnormally large legs without hitting the seat in front of him. 

"That's not any of your business." Deckard retaliated, taking a breath before continuing as his forehead wrinkled with agitation, "Do you know what else isn't your business? All of this. This is a family problem, and when I last checked, your last name wasn't Shaw." 

"Neither is hers." Hobbs shot back, pointing to Isabella, who tried to steady her breathing to mirror her sleeping rate. She felt Deckard stiffen up beneath her head; Isabella could tell the man was getting under his skin. 

"You know what, you should think yourself lucky that she's asleep right now, or else I'd have thrown your ass so far down this plane before you even knew what hit you." Isabella bit her lip, stopping a laugh that threatened to escape her mouth and give her away in an instant. 

"Oh, okay." Hobbs chuckled criticisingly, "So that's what's stopping you, not the fact that you are about the size of a dwarf and couldn't even pick up my little toe." The two rivals stared at each other closely, debating whether it was worth going at each other and risking the whole mission and, consequently, the fate of the entire world.

Owen rolled his eyes at the conflict, "Can you give it a rest for two minutes?  Yes, we could have done this without him, but he's bloody well here now, and we need to focus on getting that virus out of our sister. If we keep fighting each other, we have no chance." He argued, surprising both the men in front of him as he spoke some common sense.

Hobbs looked between the brothers with an impressed expression, "That's the smartest thing I've ever heard you say." 

Deckard wiped a hand across his chin, deciding that his brother was right, even if he hated to admit it, "Fine, but don't think I don't know why you're doing this." He pointed his clenched hand at Hobbs accusingly, looking at him intently.