Disclaimer: Hitman is the property of IO Interactive. I do not claim any rights to the characters or the rich history of the franchise- in fact, I try to write only within the story which already exists (HITMAN 2016 excluded).

Special thanks to IO Interactive, David Bateson, and everyone else who has helped to create this franchise and the characters within it. You guys are all awesome!

If you don't like sad endings- this story is not for you. However- this tale will not be connected to any of my other fanfics. The other facfics will be mostly 47-centric, with others serving as secondary characters.

Author's Note: The prelude is actually my interpretation of both a 'missing history' section of the time between the events of Hitman: Blood Money and Hitman: Absolution, and a small snippet just after the events of Absolution that set things up for this fanfic. The reason for this is because in Blood Money, Diana Burnwood takes advantage of 47's trust in order to save him. This leaves him conflicted about trusting her further- evident from the fact Diana tells a client that she lost track of him. It's also likely that he quit the Agency for the second time, at least for most of the six years that there is literally zero history for the characters.

Finding a Ghost

It took Diana just nearly five and a half years, and a lot of money for the agents doing the heavy lifting of the search, to finally track down 47. It wasn't overly surprising- the man was practically nonexistent. If she hadn't been his handler- if she hadn't met him- she would likely be as clueless as almost everyone else that he was anything more than a story. She had both saved and lost him with one difficult decision- to fake his death. He had given her his trust... and she had put a needle in his neck. The largest part of her didn't blame him- the smallest wanted forgiveness. He was her friend- or something close to a friend. It hadn't been easy on her to do it- but she'd had the best intentions. She'd wanted to save his life, and give him the opportunity to kill those who so nearly ended him. Maybe he would have escaped on his own- but why take the chance?

It was dangerous to do this herself, even though it had been an agent who'd found him. She could have sent the agent in, but she knew 47 probably better than anyone except himself- that agent would be dead in half a heartbeat the instant 47 thought the agent was after him. She could easily be just as dead- but she figured if anyone from the ICA could approach him at all- it was her. Maybe he'd put a bullet in her skull for doing what she did, but she was hoping their history would stay his hand long enough to explain.

Why the choice for this reacquainting to be in person? She was quite suddenly wondering that herself, actually. But then- she didn't have any contact to whoever was giving him contracts these days- and this seemed too personal to be left up to a phone call. He'd probably just hang up.

The current apparent safehouse that 47 had chosen was much like one she knew of while he was working for the Agency. It was underground- long-abandoned by public works, and just barely in the city limits. There was no way he wouldn't hear her approach, with the click of her comfortable pumps echoing in the underground space. Her heart was pounding in her ears, eyes examining the tunnel as she moved along.

It took fifteen whole minutes to make her way into the inner sanctum- where she finally spotted the barest edge of what appeared to be.. something. It was hard to tell if this was what she was looking for- the tunnel turned off at that point, and all she could see was a box with a cloth covered mound of what was probably weaponry or supplies. But as she continued on, she felt the cold end of a firearm press against the back-right of her skull. In that instant, she froze like a deer in headlights, heart racing more than it had been. She knew well who was on the other end of what felt like a large-caliber pistol. It would be one of his Silverballers. It didn't even need a silencer down here. No one would hear him shoot her.

She took a long, shaky breath, in an attempt to calm herself down. "47..." Well- at least she didn't sound entirely pathetic. Still- she was at the mercy of a contract killer. If he thought for a second she was here to harm him, he would put a bullet in her head. He might anyway- but she had come unarmed.

47's weapon didn't move. He examined her carefully- cautious from their last meeting. He didn't want to end up dead again- not even falsely so. "You've been searching for me," he noted dryly. The assassin had known the other agents had been looking for him. He knew that it was her behind the search... and he had laid in wait for her here.

Diana's throat was suddenly very dry, and she swallowed what saliva she had to try and lubricate it. She shouldn't have been surprised- 47 was at the top for a reason- and it was probable that whoever he was working for now had supplied him with recon and intel, much like she once did. "And here you are. You could have left this location- never be found. So you want something." Maybe. It was all she could think of, really. Why not just shoot her?

"You would have kept looking." 47's tone rarely changed. This was no exception. "I should kill you."

Diana was used to the way he spoke- but being this close, and having that pistol at her skull made this quite the frightening ordeal. Especially when he pointed out that killing her would spare him further trouble. "Perhaps. But you'd probably be dead if I hadn't done what I did, 47. Permanently." She paused as she tried to collect herself- but she didn't dare move. "I know you feel betrayed... but I didn't see another way. You had to live."

47 considered her words for a long moment. "I trusted you, and you took the advantage to stab me with a poison needle." He sounded mildly perturbed, his voice gaining a weight to it slightly as he spoke. It was uncharacteristic.

"I also revived you." She pointed out. "I got you close to Cayne. Erased all the evidence of you that he had."

After another long moment, 47 lowered his weapon. She had a point. Even if he had managed to fight his way out- Cayne would have been a much more difficult target in any other setting. But could he forgive Diana just on that? He didn't know. Not yet. But he'd hear her out, at least.

Diana visibly relaxed, and finally turned to face him. She'd almost forgotten just how imposing the man was- even without the trademark suit. He was currently without the jacket or tie, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, double holster secured over the shirt- but he was no less intimidating than he was with the full ensemble. She gave him a little frown. "I'm sorry, 47. I didn't see another way. I didn't believe you would go along with what I had planned- and there wasn't enough time to explain. The SWAT team was right on my heels."

His cold, piercing blue eyes softened ever-so-slightly as he slid the Silverballer back into its holster. "You'll have to earn my trust, Diana." But at least he would give her the chance to do so. He stepped past her, into what she thought may have been where he was now dwelling.

Diana was uncertain if she should follow or not- but she'd come this far. She stepped into the area after him, glancing around a little. In one offshoot of the main chamber, he'd set up a small shooting range to keep his aim sharp. Boxes full of supplies were neatly stacked here and there- containing ammo, weapons, and his usual array of tools. On the far wall was a cot and an empty crate where his laptop had been placed. For a moment, she wondered how he got WiFi down here... but she figured he had his ways. An old rolling clothing rack served as his wardrobe- containing at least three different sets of the same suit. The man himself went to sit at a makeshift table with a crate for seating after fetching a second crate for her. His back was to the wall, and he simply watched her move towards him.

She sat across from him, clasping her hands on the makeshift table so he could see them. "Have you been well?"

47 just stared at her. "Idle chit-chat doesn't suit you. Did you come all the way down here just to apologize?"

Diana sighed. "No. I came to ask you to return to the Agency." She locked her eyes with his. Yes- he frightened her- but she would make eye contact regardless. She deeply respected the man, even if they were still a bit at-odds.

"I figured as much." He leaned forward slightly, as if to gauge each detail on her face to see if she was genuine.

The air grew thick in an uncomfortable silence before 47 finally spoke again. "If you do anything like that again, Diana- I will end you."

Diana released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "So is that a yes?"

47 gave a light nod. "I'll return to the Agency. On one condition."

Diana quirked a brow at him. "You're not usually one to set conditions, 47."

"No. But I remember the terms of the Agency. They will not simply allow you to work with me again. You knew that when you came down here. You would not be my handler unless I make it a stipulation for my return."

Her expression was one of both shock and amusement. "You want me back as your handler?"

"It would be difficult for you to earn back my trust if you were not, wouldn't it?" In fact- they would never speak again. She wouldn't have his contact information- let alone safehouse locations. He could easily work with someone he didn't exactly trust- he had been doing so since his absence from the Agency.

"I suppose it would. Do you really think they'll accept your terms?"

"They would be foolish not to."

Diana couldn't argue. When she left here, she would give his terms to the Agency. "How do I contact you to let you know what they decide?"

47 stood, and went to one of the crates. He pulled out a burn phone, programmed in his personal contact info, and tossed it to her. "Use that- for now. We'll re-establish a link in the usual way once I have confirmation."

"And your current employer?"

"That is none of your concern."

Diana nodded, and left without another word. Frankly- half of her wanted to flee. But she simply walked out. 47 knew the Agency would want him back- even enough to put aside their usual terms of service. He was just too valuable.

Travis' Ace

Benjamin Travis was the closest thing Victoria had to a father. He hadn't been the scientists that created her- but he had funded them, arranged for her creation, and spent quite a bit of money on her training, despite Diana saving her before that began. She had, thankfully, not suffered entirely since childhood- or if she did, she didn't remember- like 47. But she hated Travis, even now. He was dead and gone, and she hated him.

It had been 47 that had put his job and life on hold for her- at Diana's request. He had protected and saved her. But he had also helped fake Diana's death- and let her believe she was dead. Still- perhaps he was more of a father-figure than Travis. He had been an experiment, too- he understood in ways no one else could. At the same time, he was a very private man. She hadn't even seen him since the day he brought her back to the home she shared with Diana.

In the end, she figured, at least she had Diana. She was like a mother- but she was also 47's handler. There was a great deal she couldn't talk about- especially concerning him. Still. There was a reason she was going to law school next year. She needed to get away from this place. Away from the memory of Travis and the frustration of 47's secrets. Hell- he didn't even have a name!

There was no way to know that 47 was watching her even then, as she strolled out into the warm summer air.