The key is like Ethan’s heart - broken, hidden, hoarded.
Ethan got back the key’s pieces bit by bit, from people he cared about, from his enemies, from someone who came to his side, and from the man who had killed his first love, Marie.
Then as soon as the key - the heart - was whole and in Ethan’s possession again, he handed it over to Benji, his normal shoulder touch more of a caress.
Just a little thought about the symbolism of that key.
(I also think it represents Benji and Ethan together being two halves of the whole)
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The votes are in! Here are the daily and alternate themes for Benthan Week 2026, running from August 24-30:
Monday, August 24
Day 1: Presumed dead
Alternate theme: Ethan and Benji take care of each other’s emotional fallouts after The Final Reckoning
Tuesday, August 25
Day 2: One of them can’t speak/hear/see [mod was glad to find such interest in writing disability this year! to support, here are resources for respectfully writing disabled characters, especially Deaf and blind characters, without reducing disability to a narrative prop]
Alternate theme: They meeting during Mission: Impossible I or II timeline AU
Wednesday, August 26
Day 3: Ethan is actually a traffic analyst (or whatever his job was in MI3) but somehow gets roped into a crime unwillingly anyway, so Benji has to help solve it while not tipping off Ethan
Alternate theme: Historical period AU (WWII, Victorian, Middle Ages, etc.)
Thursday, August 27
Day 4: Someone wears a Benji mask in front of Ethan (or the other way around)
Alternate theme: Ethan being the damsel in distress
Friday, August 28
Day 5: Benji gets the mission to kill Ethan
Alternate theme: Benji takes Ethan clothes shopping to stop him wearing basic black
Saturday, August 29
Day 6: Ethan treating a badly hurt Benji
Alternate theme: After a concussion, Ethan thinks he actually is John Lark. Benji has to convince him he’s not.
Sunday, August 30
Day 7: Truth serum
Alternate theme: Benji and Ethan on the run together
Enjoy creating for the next month and a half (or, in time-honored tradition, doing it all the night before in a wild rush)! The blog will begin posting and the AO3 collection will be revealed around 8 AM US Central Time on the 24th. Looking forward to another fun year of Benthan 💖
Thinking about how Benji is with Walker - rolling his eyes, ‘was the little car your idea?’, refusing to give Walker his name in return, Benji just gloriously, wonderfully bitchy to him or just ignoring him completely…
And Ethan just standing by and letting it happen. Even glancing at Benji in the rear view mirror to watch it happen (I think he enjoyed letting Benji loose on Walker like that)
I know it’s all part of the ‘let’s fool Walker that Benji is incapable’ thing but it does give an insight into how beautifully snappy and bitchy Benji can be with someone he doesn’t like.
(And it does make me laugh that Ilsa, despite not being part of the plan, behaved exactly the same way to Walker from the moment she met him. Benji Ilsa sibling energy)
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Benji presses his hand against Will’s, idly noting the differences. Will’s palm is larger than his by just a bit, but Benji’s fingers are longer when he lines them up. He doesn’t think he’s ever noticed before. Never paid quite that much attention.
He pays attention now, running his thumb up and down the length of each of Will’s fingers, brushing over rough calluses (these would be surprising, if Benji didn’t know him) and his short, even nails. There’s strength in his hands that, though he spends more time in the office than in the field, should not be discounted. Benji’s seen him wield guns and knives with equal confidence, has seen him grab and break another man’s arm in quick, concise movements, and he loves Will’s competence – loves seeing him in a place that, despite his occasional hesitance, has never quite stopped being his element. And yet–
And yet that isn’t what he loves most about Will. It’s the way that he’s so gentle when he can afford to be.
His touch is always soft when he puts his hands on Benji. From the way he’d cradled his jaw when they’d first kissed, to the reverent drag of his palms across Benji’s skin when they lie together in bed, he’s always gentle. It’s a novel experience; no one has ever handled Benji with such care – not like he’s something breakable, but as if he’s something worth protecting. It amplifies everything, makes even just holding Will’s hand feel like an act of high romance.
Benji wishes Will would hold his hand now, but he remains lax in Benji’s grip. His fingers are chilled, and Benji frowns; Will’s hands are usually warm, but everything in this room is just so damned cold. Will hates being cold. Benji turns and checks on the blankets, but they’re pulled just as high as they were before – just as high as the nurses will let Benji tuck them before they start interfering with the machinery they have Will hooked up to.
Sitting back with a sigh, Benji settles for chafing Will’s hand carefully between his own, trying to bring a little warmth back into it. He reaches for the other after a moment, but falters when he remembers the IV line taped to it. He sits back again, still holding Will’s hand, uncertain of what else to do.
Slowly, he leans back in the terrible hospital chair, sliding down a bit in the seat until his head is propped up on the backrest and his legs are stretched out in front of him. He laces his fingers together with Will’s and rests their clasped hands on his chest. Like this, he can almost pretend they’re just lying in bed, the way they had been the morning before this last mission – before everything had gone spectacularly fucking pear-shaped.
“You can wake up now, love,” Benji says softly, voice raised just enough to be heard over the sounds of the machines and the murmur of activity outside the room. “It’s not like you to sleep this late.”
He rolls his head on the backrest, turning to look at Will, but Will remains quiet and unmoving against the flat hospital pillows. Benji sighs. Will had come through his last surgery just fine; he isn’t attached to even half as much equipment as he had been when they’d first gotten him to the hospital, and the doctors are optimistic about his recovery. He’ll wake up on his own, they’d said.
Could be any time, they’d said.
Benji squeezes Will’s hand, waiting to see if he’ll squeeze back.
He doesn’t.
Benji deflates back into his semi-recline, frowning now more than ever. He’s never been a terribly patient man – always on the go, always in a rush to keep up with the thoughts circling around and around in his head. When it comes to things he really wants, he’s never been good at waiting, and what he really wants right now, more than anything in the world, is to see Will open his eyes. It seems, however, that Will is going to do that in his own time.
But fine. That’s fine. If Benji needs to wait, then he’ll wait. He holds Will’s hand against his chest, Will’s slightly larger palm pressed against Benji’s own, and settles back in.
