Drowning In Ship

Ethan escaped from the hospital bed as soon as he could. He knew Julia and that husband of hers (he could not remember his name and he wasn’t going to examine the reasons why) would understand (he was fairly sure Julia had seen him slip away)

It had been such a relief to see his team was fine. To see Benji standing there, looking a little worn, but there, thank god, and Luther, insouciant as ever. And Ilsa, bruised by Lane but still alive. Now he wanted to talk to them - talk to Benji. Find out exactly what happened with Lane because he hadn’t been told anything so far.

He limped across the compound to another tent, somehow knowing instinctively that was where Benji was. He pushed his way in through the flaps, already grinning at the thought of Benji shouting at him for being out of bed.

And then his smile faded.

Ilsa was sat by a bed, sadly staring at the figure in it. And that figure - it was Benji. Eyes closed, neck bandaged, drip in his arm.

‘What…?’ he demanded, stumbling forward. Ilsa looked up, shocked.

And then she told him. Told him everything. All about the hanging and the damage. And how Benji had kept going until they knew Ethan was ok, and then once that was all settled, Benji had walked into the tent and collapsed.

‘He didn’t want to tell you,’ Ilsa said softly.

‘I - I…’ Ethan sat down by Benji’s bed. He didn’t dare take his hand, in case he disturbed the needle in the back of his hand, but he let his hand lay next to his, the fingers touching

‘I’ll leave you with him,’ Ilsa said, slipping out. Ethan sat there as the light faded, watching Benji breath, staring down at the damage he hadn’t noticed.

At some point he reached for the clipboard at the foot of the bed. He’d read his own medical notes enough times to understand enough of the language. There were injuries there, old injuries, harm Ethan had never noticed.

He sat down by Benji’s bed again.

‘What else are you hiding?’ he whispered. ‘What else don’t I know?’

Benji stirred and blinked his eyes open. He looked at Ethan, frowning.

‘You ok?’ he croaked.

‘Benji…’ Ethan said, sighing. ‘I’m fine. But you - why didn’t you tell me? Any of it?’

Benji shrugged. But he had an eloquent face.

‘You didn’t want to worry me,’ Ethan guessed. ‘But I worry you, all day every day. It seems fair you’d worry me back?’

Benji only stared back at him, eyes wide, one finger rubbing against the side of his hand. Ethan looked back at him, trying to see him, trying to see inside this man that he thought he knew so well and yet constantly surprised him.

‘Benji - did you think - did you think I wouldn’t care?’

Benji shook his head.

‘Did you think - you can’t possibly think - that you being hurt didn’t matter?’

Benji didn’t say a thing. He just kept looking up at Ethan, eyes full of devotion.

‘Oh, Benji…’ Ethan whispered. He stared out at the sunset for a moment. He knew he was bad at expressing his feelings, Julia had taught him that, taught him at least to understand his feelings. But he never thought - he never imagined - that Benji would hide his pain from him. For a moment he swallowed, trying to swallow the tears that came to his eyes.

Then he shook his head. Let Benji see that. Let Benji know Ethan could cry for him.

He turned back to Benji.

‘I do care. You should tell me.’

Benji opened his mouth to speak but Ethan squeezed his hand.

‘No talking until your throat is better.’

Benji let out a frustrated snort.

‘I want to know, Benji. I want to help. Let me look after you!’

Benji only stared up at him. Stubborn and silent.

‘I’d - I’d do anything to save you pain,’ Ethan whispered. ‘I’d do anything to save you. You know that, don’t you? Please tell me you know that?’

Benji watched him, studied his face closely and then nodded once, slowly.

‘Then tell me. Let me look after you when you are hurt. Let me look after you the way you look after me.’

Benji studied him a long time. What was he thinking? There was a sharp and cunning mind behind all that babble, no one knew that better than Ethan. What was Benji thinking? What was he deciding?

‘Please - ‘ Ethan whispered. ‘Let me help you. I’d give the world to save you, Benji.’

Benji watched him, and smiled, sadly, softly. Then he nodded.

‘Good. I’ll stay here while you sleep. Ok?’

Benji nodded and closed his eyes. Ethan stayed as darkness fell, his hand still laying next to Benji’s. He reached out, and touched his cheek once, very gently, barely there.

Benji had agreed, hadn’t he? Benji would let him save him, wouldn’t he? And Benji didn’t lie to him. He understood what this meant to him.

It’s not that Ethan dislikes the doctors. He knows they’re only doing their job. But being so still for so long while they poke him and prod him and tell him sternly to stay in bed and heal triggers a fundamental desire to escape in him. So he does.

It’s not that he minds being reminded of his own mortality either. Ethan Hunt has been racing death for a long time now, and one day he’ll lose the race. That’s fine. He just doesn’t want it to happen in a hospital bed. He would rather it was quick and done to save a friend.

When he’d messed up his knee he’d left hospital far too soon, convinced his own iron will would force it to heal. And it did - but now he limps on that knee whenever he is hurt or tired.

But this was before Benji.

Benji gets a copy of Ethan’s medical reports. He’s not supposed to, they should go only to the Secretary and whatever team leader Ethan has, so Benji has to hack in and steal it. Ethan knows. Ethan approves. He leans over Benji’s shoulder as he studies the latest report.

‘You need more calcium in your diet,’ Benji tells him. ‘And you are too stressed, maybe you need to learn some deep breathing exercises or…’ he looks up into Ethan’s ironic smile. ‘Well, no. But try to run for pleasure more. Just relax.’

‘Anything else?’

Benji became an expert in emergency field medicine pretty much overnight after joining the team. If Ethan can avoid the doctors, it’s because Benji has taken such good care of him in the field. But over time he’s become expert in the long term care of Ethan’s injuries, can read an X-Ray or a CT scan as well as anyone. Ethan is pretty sure he could qualify as a medic now, if his speciality was Ethan Hunt.

‘One day you’ll need to go an in and get that knee sorted out properly. Get a few pins put in.’

‘But that would take months to recover from.’

Benji sighs.

‘It would. I can keep you going a little while but honestly, Ethan, some day you’re going to have to stop and heal properly.’

‘But not today, hey, Benji?’

Ethan flashes him his winning smile, the one that charms almost everyone. Benji meets it with his usual scepticism. It’s been a long time since Benji could be distracted by Ethan’s charm.

‘Honestly, Ethan, what will you do if I’m not here to patch you up?’

‘Die,’ Ethan tells him. He’s leaning over his shoulder, one hand on his shoulder, the other by his hand on the desk. He is staring at the screen, at the image of his smashed knee, but Benji doesn’t think he can see it. ‘I’d die without you, Benji.’

‘There are other field medics. And doctors. And if you allowed yourself a year to heal…’

‘But there isn’t another you,’ Ethan interrupted. ‘It’s - not just the medic stuff. It’s - I’d die without you. One way or another. So you won’t leave, will you?’

Ethan stands then and glances down at Benji. He looks so unsure, a mile away from the cocksure Ethan.

‘Stay and be my doctor. You’re the only one I trust anyway.’

‘I’ll always stay,’ Benji reassures him. ‘As long as you need me. As long as I can.’

‘Then that’s ok, then,’ Ethan said. ‘I’ll keep running and you keep patching me up. No reason for that to ever change.’