Prompt: Fever

Title: Fevered Realizations

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,143 (finally! a reasonable word count!)

Synopsis: While completing a Mission that quickly goes sideways and ends in a foot race, Agent Y/N L/N begins to realize that though she made it out unscathed of afflictions by her enemies, all might not be as well with her as she believes.

----

Fevered Realizations

You haven't felt this awful in a long time.

A long, long time.

Heck, you'd been shot, stabbed, bruised and beaten, but this...

This is just downright awful.

And right now, there's absolutely nothing you can do to mitigate the chills that dance through you, your clammy fingers clutching the knife in your grasp.

"Let's go! Let's go!" You barely hear Benji urge, the truck he's behind the wheel of coming to keep pace beside where you're sprinting, your aggressors quickly gaining on you.

Panting, you holster the knife into your boot in one swift motion beginning the struggle to clamber onto the open tailgate, practically tripping over your own feet, your body suddenly failing you, your strength practically non-existent.

"Here!"

You hadn't even noticed the familiar figure of Luther leaning over the back of the truck, a hand now being extended out towards you.

Which you gladly accept as he hauls you aboard, your back hitting the burlap liner with a thud.

"Where's Ethan?" You manage to somehow pant out between breaths, blinking a few times as if to help clear your thoughts. "We got separated."

The man sitting in the bed of the moving truck you're in just chuckles.

"How much farther, Benji?"

"About twenty meters from where he'd said he'd be!"

Struggling against the swaying of the vehicle as it drives, your aggressors no longer in pursuit, you somehow manage to pull yourself up enough to peer over the side, the city surroundings blurring past you.

Your increasingly tired gaze surveys the area ahead, looking for the familiar figure of your Partner amongst the crowded streets.

"Tell me when you see him," Luther urges from behind you, his own attention focused on the opposite side of the vehicle.

But, you barely can comprehend his words as a sudden wave of fatigue and weakness crashes over you, your hands that had been keeping you upright no longer supporting you.

And as Benji rounds the corner that should bring the three of you to where Ethan said he'd be, you find yourself being tossed around like a ragdoll towards the other side of the truck, crashing into the metal wall in front of your teammate with a thud, unable to do much more than lay there, your blurry gaze wandering the blue skies above.

"What the hell was that?!"

The voices of your Teammates are muddled, almost as if they're as one.

"Y/N just-" You can hear somebody, likely Luther, you figure, muse aloud, bewilderment and concern in his tone, his features appearing over you moments later. "Can you hear me? Blink twice if you can hear me."

So you do, albeit your eyes feel like sandpaper.

"How the hell did this happen?" You hear your hoarse voice echo back at you, sounding distraught.

But then, your hearing comes back, almost as if someone had taken a bag off of your head, or earplugs out of your ears.

Someone else is clambering into the back of the truck, though with your Teammate blocking your line of sight, you can't exactly make out just who it is.

"What the hell is going on? What happened? Is she okay?" An all too familiar tone pierces through your fatigued senses, a wave of relief crashing though you.

It's Ethan.

Mustering up a bit of strength, you attempt to pull yourself to a sitting position, only for your arms to give out under the weight of your own body.

"She's not injured, if that's what you're asking," Luther replies as the pair of them get you situated, the coolness of the cab's back wall against your bare shoulders a welcome sensation.

"So what is it, then?" Your Partner urges, concerned gaze flicking between your shivering figure and his best friend.

"I'd say she's sick, but I'm not no Doctor."

Ethan's expression shifts entirely as those words fall upon him, a newfound sense of urgency overtaking him.

"The buyer's contact should be in that phone," He states plainly, tossing the beaten up device towards the hacker, who catches it with ease, quickly securing it in one of the black duffel bags also present in the back of the truck with you.

And in one swift motion, your Partner is at your side, the back of his hand being pressed against your forehead no likely glistening with sweat, then removed again and pressed to his.

"You're hot."

"Thanks for finally admitting it," You joke halfheartedly, yet another set of chills wracking your frame. "But I'm actually f-freezing."

"Blanket," You hear him mutter beneath his breath, gaze wandering over the various items present around you.

Unzipping one of the nearby duffel bags with a sigh, after a moment of rummaging through it's contents, a zip-up hoodie and a leather jacket are in his grasp, to which he hastily makes his way back towards you.

"We'll keep you warm until we get back," Ethan explains, voice barely above a whisper as he helps you forward, sliding the hoodie over your exposed shoulders, and then the jacket. "But once we're safe, you can't be bundled up anymore."

You frown, though you know right well where he's coming from.

You have a fever. Layering blankets and clothing only will make it worse.

But inwardly, you sigh, a feeling of helplessness swelling within you.

I've just made everything ten-times harder for us.

****

By the time Benji had found a spot to ditch the truck and the four of you had continued back to the safehouse on foot, you were even worse than before.

Your head was pounding, in turn limiting your senses, including your balance.

The British communications specialist had made the remark that you'd appeared to look rather intoxicated, your stumbling footing and glazed over gaze not helping the outward appearance.

Luther had just shushed him as you'd found yourself resting on Ethan's side for support, having already denied his offer to carry you numerous times.

And so the four of you had continued on, with nightfall quickly approaching.

With the rising darkness had come cooler weather and in turn, your chills had come back, worse than before.

Though, the evening air had felt nice on your clammy skin...

And as you lay on the rather small double bed that this particular safehouse has to offer, you find yourself missing the breeze that had passed over your forehead before you'd practically been forced into bed.

See, you knew right away when your Partner had boarded that truck that he'd be worried.

If he was in this state, you'd be worried, too.

But in the back of your mind, a nagging feeling of his concerned actions being a sign of something more, echoes.

I mean, everyone else on the Team and back at HQ already have their suspicions...

It's always been a rumor that you and the Ethan Hunt were just more than field partners.

And there have been numerous times you've both been forced to assume a much more intimate roll while trying to accomplish whatever the Mission at hand might be.

But all those times have just been the two of you doing your job.

It's sorta what you'd signed up for, all that time ago.

But Ethan's actions this afternoon...

A knock at the already ajar door pulls you from your thoughts as you quickly shove them aside, a rather small sounding "come in," falling from your lips.

And in comes your Partner, a clearly worn out expression on his features, though there's his usual glimmer of optimism shining in his gaze.

In his gasp is a bottle of water and a bowl, a washcloth draped over his shoulder.

"Figured you could use some company," He greets, offering a small smile, placing the bottle of water at your bedside table before his gaze meets yours, wordlessly seeking permission to join you at your side.

Though you shake your head, raising a hand as if to shoo him away.

"The Team needs you at your best, Ethan. You can't be-"

"Getting sick?" He chuckles, clambering into the small empty space at your side, his back resting against the wall, your request ignored. "It doesn't matter. Right now, you're the one who's down and it's my job to get you back on your feet again."

A beat of silence settles between the pair of you as you both simply enjoy each other's presence, the feeling of his weight beside you setting you at ease, your eyelids beginning to feel heavier than before.

Though you don't allow them to close quite yet, watching silently as the now damp washcloth he'd brought in is placed upon your forehead, the coolness of it earning a contented sigh from you.

Though a worry can't stop nagging at you.

"Is everyone else okay? I just don't want them to-"

"They're fine," Ethan assures once more, his voice soft. "Just get some rest. I'm not going anywhere."

Unable to do much more than settle in against the mattress and the thin sheet over top of you, you sigh, shifting slightly to get a better look at the features of the man at your side.

He simply sits there, quietly, gaze wandering out the window - it's almost as if he knows you're looking.

Though appearing exhausted, he seems completely at ease in this moment, seeming to be soaking in the momentary peace and quiet to draw back on whenever things get inevitably crazy once more.

But as you feel your eyes finally giving in to their heaviness and they begin to flutter closed, a rather foreign feeling of a hand gently, almost hesitantly, stroking your sweat matted hair out of your face resonates with you, quickly accompanied by a ripple of surprise.

You instinctively shift closer to your Partner's side, almost as if to urge him on, though he abruptly pulls away, taking your sudden movements as a sign against his actions.

"Sorry, I-"

"Keep going," You practically whimper, a certain pleading falling into your tone that surprises you, but you pay no mind, quickly falling prey to the comforting sensation once again.

And as you find yourself gradually falling into a fevered slumber, you feel more at ease than you ever have before, knowing that right now, Ethan's got you.

And maybe, just maybe, there is something more between the two of you than either of you let on...

****

You awake with a groan of something incomprehensible, your eyes being assulted by the sunlight filtering through the window the blinds had never got closed of last night.

Your head is still pounding with a headache, your body still aching all over...

But as you go to sit up and get out of bed, determined to at least make a coffee without anyone's help, a firm grip around your waist that you hadn't noticed before stops you.

"Ethan..." You whine in frustration, struggling against his grip, only to quickly admit defeat, laying back still, your head flopping back against the pillows as a huff escapes you.

Though you can't help but blush with a smile as your Partner's still rather sleepy looking features appear in front of you, his hair an absolute mess.

A mess that you raise your hands towards and run your fingers through, earning a breathy chuckle from the both of you.

"I'll get you whatever you need - just say the word," He murmurs, a tone of slight teasing dropping into his voice as a smirk creeps at the corner of his lips.

"Coffee and an Advil?"

"Coffee and an Advil, coming right up."

All you can do is silently watch as Ethan clambers out of bed and heads towards the door, a sweater of his being grabbed and tossed over his head in the process.

But before he can disappear from your view entirely, a sudden urgency rises within you as you pull yourself to a sitting position.

"Ethan? I-"

His name falling from your lips instantly catches his attention as he turns to face you, an almost knowing grin on his features.

"I know," Comes the reply, his voice lowering to almost match your unsaid emotion. "But we'll save this conversation for another time, alright?"

"Alright," You nod in agreement, an eagerness coupled with thankfulness working it's way into your tone. "Thank you."

The only reply you get is simply another one of his usual smiles, before he turns on his heel and continues into the kitchen, the clatter of cupboards and mugs reaching your ears.

And as you settle back against your pillows and snuggle closer to the spot where he'd been laying last night, a grin works it's way onto your features.

Maybe getting sick wasn't such a bad thing after all if it finally meant getting some well-deserved down time.

Because after all, you've always got someone you now know will always be by your side.

Even when you're sick.