Hi, I was wondering if you wrote fan fiction, and if you do could you please do a Ethan x Benji one similar to the opening to mission impossible 3. Thank You!!!
blazeangel15 Oh god, I really hope that this is ok for you and is what you hoped for… And thank you to snovyda for helping and inspiring the ending with your awesome ideas!
Title: Déjà VuShip: Benji/Ethan
Out of all of the things that he had ever been through during his years with the IMF, if he had to pick three that he would rather die than face again, this would be one of them. Another would be sitting across a restaurant table from Benji, watching him fighting back tears as those little red numbers counted down all too fast yet painfully slow at the same time. Sadly, this situation right now was a combination of those two memories and his brain was beginning to go into meltdown.
He could not do this again, not after last time. Not after the pain that he had felt with each word, each number, each pull of the trigger. But what made this ten times worse, was that it was real. Of course, at the time, he had thought it was real with Julia, but he later found it to be a lie; she wasn’t dead. But this time, he knew without a single sliver of a doubt that it was real and that made his heart pound against his chest as though it would tear open his rib cage just to burst through.
He tugged at the restraints around his wrists, the metal of the handcuffs digging into his skin, chafing it and rubbing it raw as he tried his hardest to break free. He knew that he would not be able to, he could not even snap the metal arms of the chair the cuffs were attached to, but he was not going to simply sit there and watch. His ankles were bound too, leaving him helpless and desperate.
“Come now, Agent Hunt.” The voice had been taunting him ever since he had woken in the chair, rasping and low, reminding him far too much of Solomon Lane for his liking. “I know you care about your friends, you care about their well being. You care for those you love. I don’t take you for the man who would put the importance of information like this over his life. Just tell me where the weapons are located and we can make this all go away.” The man, Francis Chambers, an older man with greying hair and blue eyes so piercing that they sent a shiver down Ethan’s spine, twirled the knife he was holding with a look of near child-like glee.
“I told you…” Ethan replied, voice hoarse from the amount of shouting he had already done. “I don’t know where they are. I swear.” He watched as Chambers turned and leaned in towards Benji, lips far too close to his ear making Ethan want to tear him apart even more.
“How does it feel, Benjamin, to know that the man you admire doesn’t seem to care for your life?” he asked, a chill running down the tech’s spine. But he could not answer, despite the desire to tell him where he could shove his weapons, for the foul tasting rag that had been shoved into his mouth kept any and all threats silence. His arms were aching, pulled roughly above him and bound in chains that left him dangling from the ceiling, the toes of his boots just barely scraping the cold concrete floor beneath him and he tried to throw Ethan some kind of reassuring glance. But that glance became a wince as he felt the blade of Chambers’ knife gliding down the bare skin of his bicep, causing him to bite into the gag to prevent any sound from escaping. He heard the sound of Ethan struggling against his restraints once more, quickly followed by the sound of a fist connecting with what he knew was the older agent’s face and he opened his eyes to see Ethan spitting out blood.
“Shall we try this one more time, Hunt?” Chambers asked, voice seeming to echo around them. “Where are the weapons?”
“Please… Chambers, just listen to me, ok? I swear to you, I don’t know where they are. You say you know me, I wouldn’t put my friends in danger for the sake of information. You’re right, I wouldn’t. If I knew where they were, I would have told you already, just please… Leave Benji out of this.” Ethan’s voice was that of a desperate man, wavering and breaking with each word. Seeing Benji like this, seeing his life on the line for the sake of information once more killed him, even more so since this time, he did not have the information that Chambers wanted. He could not barter with him the way he did Lane, he could not buy Benji’s freedom with the right words. This was a losing battle.
Then came the sound of Benji’s scream, almost piercing his ears as the blade was plunged into his upper thigh, blood immediately soaking the light blue denim that surrounded the wound. The blond’s ragged breathing seemed so loud in Ethan’s ears as he felt tears beginning to well up in his eyes. He had thought that nothing could be worse than seeing the fear in Benji’s eyes as the bomb ticked down to his death in London, but hearing the agony he was in as he swung from those chains was possibly worse.
“Please!” Ethan yelled, shaking his head when the blade was removed from Benji’s leg, the sight of his blood coating the blade, contrasting the silver with its deep red colour making him sick. This was not supposed to happen. They had not been on a mission, they had been having dinner at Ethan’s home. They were somewhere they were supposed to be safe, where no one could reach them, no one could harm them. Yet that sanctuary had been shattered, ripped away from them as they had been dragged from the house late at night. And now, what had been a lovely night in with his partner was now some kind of hell.
“I’m sorry Agent Hunt.” Chambers finally spoke up again as he fixed his grip on the knife and readied it for another blow. “I guess you’ll have to try and remember where the weapons are before your precious agent bleeds out.” He swung the blade down towards Benji’s abdomen, just as the sound of the doors bursting open made them all jump. The fright caused Chambers’ body to shift, the movement of his arm altering slightly, just enough to prevent the knife from burying itself to the hilt in Benji’s stomach, but it still gouged a significant gash into the blond’s side as armed IMF agents swarmed them. The next few seconds were a blur for Ethan as he focused on Benji, hearing shouts around him as their agents slammed Chambers and his men into the ground. He heard the familiar sound of Brandt’s voice nearby, saying what he thought was his name, but he could not be sure. He was too fixated on the blood seeping through Benji’s shirt. He felt Brandt’s hands working on the cuffs that still bound Ethan’s wrists and the second they were free, he was rushing to his feet. He swayed, feeling the analyst’s hands on his shoulders to steady him.
“Benji.” Ethan pushed away from Brandt and moved to where Luther stood, just lowering Benji down to the ground. “Benji…” Ethan repeated, kneeling down next to him as he looked into the younger man’s blue eyes. The tech managed a weak smile before wincing as he felt Luther pressing something against his side to stem the bleeding.
“I’m so sorry, Benj.” Ethan whispered, gripping Benji’s hand in his own. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, Ethan.” The tech replied, linking his fingers with his partner’s. “We didn’t give him the information. That’s what matters.”
“Yeah, because we didn’t know. And look where that got you.” Ethan replied, shaking his head a little.
“You didn’t know.” Ethan paused at Benji’s words, brow furrowing as he stared down at him. “He assumed you had the information because you’re the team leader. He didn’t stop to think that the technician who helped design the security system of the building these weapons are stored in would know.”
“Benji, why didn’t you say something?” Ethan asked, a mixture of emotions evident in his eyes as he wondered. “You could have saved yourself all of this.”
“And caused it to happen to you.” Benji explained, honestly. “I knew the second he found out I had the information, he would have turned that blade on you and I was not going to let that happen.”
Before Ethan could respond, Luther’s voice interrupted. “Ethan, we need to move.”
“Right, right… Hospital..”
Benji nodded in agreement, a soft yet tired smile on his face. “Yes please. Hospital.”
