𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 - Tom Cruise + Characters One-Shots

Save Me

Summary: You're Ethan's girlfriend and you're often sent out as a pair on the most important missions because of how good you both are. But things can take a turn even for the IMF's best agents...

Warnings: Mild swearing, blood, wounds, stitches, and some hurt comfort fluff lemme tell ya-

A/N: Helllooooo! Yes, I am not dead. Thanksgiving and the end of the Semester have a way of blocking the flow of Fanfiction but here I am! I wrote this after my friend and I were like, "oh my gosh what would it be like if we sat in Ethan's lap and he held us while we cried???" so I promised to whip this up and it turned out waaaay longer than intended. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this! It's one of my favorite One-Shot's yet! 

Words: 6749

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As a senior IMF agent, you've run countless heists, completed hundreds of missions, and earned a scar or two along the way. This line of work has taught you life long lessons, some more painfully received than others. However, there is one thing you fail to execute. Before each mission, every IMF agent is sent a message from the Secretary. Whether through normal means, like a telephone or email, or the more exotic ways the IMF prefers; sunglasses, records, and disposable cameras, you get your new assignment and are arranged into a team. Unless the operation is to fly solo, which you've done countless times, though you've adapted a taste for duo assignments.

Teams aren't always ideal, but having a second pair of eyes...or hand...or anything a partner can bring to the table is a great aid.

Your problem isn't with teams or partners.

It's the way you feel after getting your message. As soon as the Secretary's voice warns you of the device's self-destruct setting, you get jitters in your stomach. A cloud of electric butterflies. The mere anticipation of the adrenaline rush the new mission will bring is enough to have you on the edge of your seat, bouncing the balls of your feet excitedly as you contact your teammates, or in most cases, your partner. The buzz is like magic. The equivalent of being high. It tosses you up into the air, but because of your agent mindset, you remain grounded. It's the perfect balance of mental clarity and mental freedom.

Pleasure and precision.

An addictive emotion.

It almost always tricks you into hoping for the best.

Expecting a thrill, you get so caught up in the fun of the mission and therefore forget to prepare for the reality; danger. Life threatening and often heart wrenching dangers. The possibility of losing friends, team mates, partners, and even yourself. There's no book on your timeline, nor the timeline of loved ones. Each time you dive into a new mission, you leave the realm of comfort and safety. The further you swim, the easier it is to suddenly drown and sink to the bottom. At any given moment, an enemy could have you in chains. You could misstep and swallow a bullet; lag on an escape and blow with the building; or worst of all, make a fatal move and sacrifice the life of someone you care about.

The older you get, the harder missions become.

Especially when you're main partner is your boyfriend.

It's cruel the way you can gorge yourself on the thrill of adventure and yet thrash through nightmares of losing Ethan.

Neither the excitement nor the fear can win. They hold hands and dance around you, letting go every now and then to jab you in the heart.

Afraid or excited, you never back down from an assignment. Refusing is nothing short of failure. Giving up. To relent is to bury yourself in shame. Call it pride, but you're an IMF agent.