IMAGINES ⌲ mitch rapp

facing fears

   THIRD PERSON

  She had been attempting to convince him for weeks, months. Y/N knew she was pushing buttons. And she hated that this was the one thing that she wanted so much. The one thing that Mitch would rather give up an eye, than do.

   But, Mitch knew how determined she was. He knew it was one of the things she had always wanted to do, and if it meant facing his inner demons- for her- then he would.

   It was almost ironic. He had gone to this same place because he had loved someone else so much. After that day on the beach, he didn't think his life would ever end up how it was right now. Mitch imagined himself traveling countries on stolen credit cards and passports to rid his to-do list of terrorists.

  But when he met her- when she helped him a year ago on a mission in Bali, everything he had ever thought was proven wrong. Another purpose was given to him and thank god, because his previous plan of action became clear to him that his end goal would have only been death for him. As much as he wouldn't admit it verbally, nothing he had planned would have been doable on his own. Not completely.

     Y/N's hands slowly zipped up the duffel bag, a small smile staring down at the colorful clothes within. Her head turned to look to the other bags, two were Mitch's and one hers, not including the one in front of her. Packing for a trip, not for the CIA, was something new. Sort of. Mitch was still packing, of course. Covered on the bottom of his bag was a hand gun and a few clips. Y/N wasn't sad about it, she actually felt safer with it. With recent events, she didn't think she would travel without a loaded Mitch ever.

   A figure moved in the corner of her eyes and she turned to the bedroom doorway. Mitch in jeans, black t-shirt and similar jacket, caught her gaze and they met. His eyes were complicated and many in Counter-terrorism had trouble deciphering his look. Never Y/N. Reading him, while still difficult, would eventually be like reading a book.

    Y/N sighed and walked over until she stood right under his chin. Her hands raised and cupped his jaw, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. Mitch looked away and stared at the center of the queen bed in the middle of the room.

   "Hey," She spoke softly, getting him to look back to her. Mitch watched her carefully and his second thoughts got the best of him. Katrina's face was replaced with Y/N's, the red stained sand sitting under her eyes-wide-open face, bullet holes littering her back. He blinked and clenched his jaw as he waited for Y/N to say something.

   "We haven't left, Mitch." Y/N whispered. " I can unpack it all. We can cancel the trip. All you have to do is say the word."

   God, he wanted to. He wanted to unpack them himself so he knew that they weren't going to go, ever. That they could just continue to lay in their safe bed, in their secure home.

  But this wasn't solitude. He wasn't the gate-keeper. Mitch loved her and loved making her happy even more. They were going to go on this trip and he was going to keep his shit together.

   For her.

  "No." He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed as he looked down to her. "You- are going to experience the beach, and I- am going to be with you,"