Dylan O'Brien Imagines

Take A Bullet For You-Mitch Rapp

Mitch's POV

I've never been the kind of person who works well with partners. I'd rather be concerned with saving my own ass then someone elses'.

That was until Hurley assigned me to work with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

Y/N is the kind of assassin you are afraid to piss off. She may be the only girl in Orion, but she could easily kick every single one of our asses without a second of hesitation. She could go up against a guy who was twice her size and know instantly how to take him down.

Although she was an extremely skilled assassin, Y/N wasn't the kind of partner you wanted. She had a tendency of going off and doing her own thing. You could say she was like that because of her being the only female assassin. But it's really because Hurley has never assigned her a partner.

Until me.

At first, Y/N and I had a rocky partnership. We were both stubborn and both preferred to work alone. She tried to adjust but I didn't help. I constantly pushed her away. After everything that happened to Katrina and Annika, I couldn't allow myself to get close to anyone else.

~•~

"Are you ever going to trust me?" Y/N asked randomly as we sat in a cafe in Paris, waiting for our target to show up.

"What?" I asked, caught off-guard.

"I'm not an idiot, Rapp. I know you don't trust me."

"It's not that I don't trust you," I shrugged taking a sip of my coffee, avoiding her gaze.

I heard her let out an annoyed sigh as I continued to scan the area. "Then what the hell is it? Did I do something to piss you off or are you just a paranoid asshole?"

"You don't know what's in my file, do you?" I asked, finally looking at her. Now she was the one caught off-guard. She studied my face before slowly shaking her head no.

"Before I joined the CIA, I had a fiancé named Katrina. The day I proposed to her, is the day a terrorist pulled out a gun and shot innocent people on the beach. She was barely 100 feet from me and I couldn't save her. Then a few year ago, Hurley and I were chasing a man called, Ghost. I worked along side a woman named Annika. Long story short, she was killed. Whenever I get close to someone," I paused. I looked at her to see her patiently waiting for me to continue.

"They end up dead," I finished, unable to look away from her. I waited for her to respond, but she didn't.

She didn't laugh, she didn't leave, she didn't even break our eye contact. She just looked at me softly as she put her mug on the table and leaned forward, leaning her arms on the table and lowering her voice, "You don't have to worry about me. I am more than capable of taking care of myself."

"I don't doubt that," I said with a small laugh, trying to lighten the suddenly heavy tension between us. "It's just. . . What if something happens and you get hurt? What if I can't save you?"

"Rapp," she sighed, her smile faltering. "What happened to your fiancé was terrible, but. . . You don't have to protect everyone around you. You do, however, have to protect yourself."

~•~

That conversation in Paris happened while we were on our fifth mission as partners, six months ago.

"Ready?" She asked as she closed the trunk of our car.

We had tracked a known drug lord to this abandoned warehouse and were told to take him out.