Dangerous (Ethan Hunt x OC) **ongoing**

*chapter two*

"We probably shouldn't be out in the open like this," I told Ethan. We were more on the outskirts of town, a place I was starting to recognize. He looked over at me silently asking, Got any better ideas?

"There's a safe house around here... if you want to hang out there until our ride gets here." I could tell he didn't fully trust me yet as he looked at me quizzically. I understood his hesitance, but I didn't know what else I was supposed to do to get him to trust me.

Just as he was about to say something, sirens and shouts met our ears. They sounded a few blocks away, but still too close for my liking. Before Ethan could react, I grabbed his hand and started running. I ignored the strange feeling I got as I felt his fingers intertwine with mine.

Mission first. Feelings later.

We ran through twisting alleyways and back streets until we got to a run down, abandoned neighborhood.

"We should be safe here." I led Ethan to a small building, a little nicer than the rest. I hadn't been here in years, but it hadn't changed much. I picked the lock on the door with one of my bobby pins, stepping tentatively inside the building. I looked to my left and to my right. Seeing nobody, I stepped in completely, beckoning Ethan to come in.

"What is this place?" Ethan asked me, shutting and locking the door behind him.

"It used to be a... safe house of sorts. It's been years since I've been back here," I answered him, dropping my backpack on the sofa. I looked around the room, seeing it much the same as when Sophia and I had lived here.

Just the thought of her made my stomach churn. I'd never forgiven myself for that day. Knowing that she could be here, alive, if I wasn't so stupid, was enough to make me want to be sick.

I wandered over to the window, shutting the drapes. Ethan was looking around, I suppose to secure the place.

"Does anybody else live here?" I turned around at Ethan's question, slightly puzzled as to why he would ask. When I saw what he was holding, my heart stopped.

He held up a sweater, a muted yellow that could be considered golden. It wasn't big enough for me, but it could've fit a child. The edges of the sleeves were raggedy, evidence that the wearer would fiddle with them. It was missing most of its buttons, not that they would have been used anyway.

It was Sophia's.

I walked over to him and grabbed the sweater out of his hands. I folded it, starting to walk towards the staircase. "No, it's just me."

Ethan caught my arm, speaking to me in a serious tone. "Just you?"

In a whisper, I answered. "Just me." I could feel the sting of tears behind my eyes. Before they could escape, I tore away from Ethan's grip, proceeding to walk up the stairs to the bedroom Sophia and I used to share. Clearing my throat, I said, "I'll be back down in a minute. Make yourself comfortable."

The sound of my footsteps against the old, wooden staircase brought a strange sense of nostalgia. I remembered when Sophia used to run up and down these stairs, remembered when my parents first brought Sophia home, remembered when I had to wake Sophia up and lead her to a false sense of safety.

When I got to our old room, I shut the door and locked it. I leaned against it, closing my eyes and took a moment to breathe. I had been running nonstop since I came back to Russia; a moment to myself was well-deserved. After taking a few deep breaths, I walked over to what used to be Sophia's and my closet and opened it.

I felt as if I had been punched in the gut. Actually, I was sure that would've hurt less. All her clothes were just as she left them: rainbow order, summer before winter, and all the hangers facing the same direction. I put her sweater on an empty hanger, running my fingers down the sleeves before I stepped back and shut the door.