Work Text:
His eyelids feel heavy, as though there’s some external force pressing them down into his skull. Everything has been pitch black for a while. Right here, in this moment, down in the Sevastopol, in the depths of the ocean, even in the submarine. Ever encroaching darkness, threatening to consume him whole.
It takes all his strength, which for Ethan Hunt, is a lot, to wrench his eyes open. The sudden brightness is searing. It cuts through his vision, so sharp that he almost prefers the darkness. He feels he could slip back into the dark again, let its pervasive force control him, let it cease the insurmountable pressure drilling through him.
He’s fairly sure he must have died. People spoke of bright lights close to death, didn’t they? He vaguely remembers losing consciousness, failing to retrieve the Podkova to the surface. Could this be heaven? He didn’t think he’d end up there if he were dead. Perhaps it was some sort of interim? Whatever it was, the darkness is ever more appealing.
Deciding to change tact, he squints, hoping that might dull the piercing light. Finally adjusting, he starts to make out a blurry figure, hints of beige cutting through the burning light. It almost looks like…
‘Benji?’ That makes no sense. Why would Benji be in this heaven/hell/interim whatever it was place? That would have to mean he died too. That couldn’t have happened. It just couldn’t. Perhaps he was a hallucination, fabricated from his deliriously dead mind.
‘Hey, buddy.’ Definitely Benji’s voice. He blinks a little harder, his vision finally starting to clear.
‘Benji?’ He wants to say more, but words aren’t quite surfacing. His mouth still tastes vaguely of seawater. With a trace of bile. It’s quite revolting.
‘Yeah, it’s Benji. Wow, déjà vu much?’ The other agent chuckles. The sound is warm and reverberates gently through Ethan’s head. Soft and comforting. Very much alive.
The indistinguishable traces of beige are starting to swirl together into the more cohesive form of his friend, however the edges of his vision remain stubbornly cloudy. His cognizance rapidly returning, he finally remembers that this is not in fact the afterlife, but the artic circle. Vast expanses of snow and grey sky stretch infinitely around them, disappearing over the horizon. Taking in his immediate location, he notes the familiar surroundings of the decompression chamber. The plan had worked.
One crucial thing remained, however.
‘The Podkova?’ He drawls, the syllables slurring with each laboured word. He tries to qualm the familiar sense of panic brewing in his stomach. He didn’t get the Podkova. The memory is clear is day.
‘Tapeesa has it.’ Benji reassures him.
‘Tapeesa?’ The name is unfamiliar. He is fairly sure his memory remains intact.
‘Long story.’ The panic gradually starts to subdue. The cloudiness has almost entirely dissipated now, causing him to turn his full attention to Benji’s figure, hovering over him. The notes of beige were all too accurate; his friend had seemingly discarded his shirt and trousers somewhere along the way. Still feeling feverish, he struggles to stop himself from roaming his eyes over Benji’s bare chest, impressively sculpted. He eventually catches himself, subverting his gaze.
‘You must be freezing.’ He tries to play it off. Benji shrugs.
‘I’d be a lot colder if the clothes had stayed on. Besides, speak for yourself, you were down there for ages! How are you feeling?’
‘Never better.’ He manages a pained smile. Benji fixes him a disbelievingly sympathetic look. ‘Maybe feeling a bit sick. And cold.’
Benji retracts away from his position hovering over Ethan’s chest. He shuffles forward, planting himself beside the other agent, before laying back against the ground, careful not to jostle the older man.
‘May I?’ Still hazy, it takes Ethan a second to decipher his question. Catching on, he nods softly, the strain triggering another mild wave of sickness.
Benji twists over onto his side, pressing his chest gently against the edge of Ethan’s ribcage. He tucks his head into the crook of Ethan’s neck, curling his legs lightly against the older agent’s. He extends his arm out, letting it hover pre-emptively over Ethan’s chest.
‘This ok?’ Ethan nods again, slower this time in an attempt to wave off the nausea. Benji places the arm carefully against Ethan’s skin, tucking his hand delicately under his back to pull him flush against his side.
‘Jeez, yeah, you are cold.’ The younger agent murmurs into his neck. Ethan gives an appreciative hum.
‘Thank you, Benji.’ The words come easier this time, but still feel slightly awkward against his tongue. The other agent is hardly warm, but his body temperature was slightly raised above his own, providing a consoling heat. He couldn’t help admitting, in his still somewhat delirious state, that was likely, in part, due to the fact it was Benji’s skin pressed against him. Benji’s smooth, defined, bare chest nuzzled against his side. In better circumstances, it would be idyllic. Perhaps he should drown in the arctic ocean more often.
‘Sorry it’s me who came to get you by the way. Have a feeling you would have preferred it to be Grace, heh.’ Benji’s voice is slightly muffled, his face pressed into Ethan’s neck, however the resigned chuckle he gives is starkly coherent. Ethan frowns.
‘No, when I drafted it out in the plan, I imagined it would be you.’ Ethan admits.
‘Oh.’ Benji is rendered uncharacteristically silent. After a few seconds, he shuffles a little closer against Ethan’s side, drawing in a deep breath. On the surface, he appears the picture of calm. Ethan knows better, as given their proximity, he feels Benji’s heartbeat hammering through his chest. Despite the nausea, he manages a grin. They remain there for a while, swathed in each others’ body heat, enjoying the momentary calm before the storm.
‘You figured out my plan then?’ Ethan questions, continuing to regain awareness. Benji nods lightly against his side.
‘It wasn’t too tricky.’
‘I don’t know about that. It wasn’t very well thought out.’ He pauses, tilting his head down to face his friend. ‘You’re brilliant.’
Benji scoffs. ‘Yeah, right. Says the man who just survived a trek to the bottom of the arctic ocean.’
‘Still…’ He beams at Benji with pride, his eyes bearing intently into the younger agent’s. He lets himself get lost in the blue, interspersed with a thin fleck of brown. It’s such a welcome contrast from the prior harsh dichotomy of light and dark. Uniquely warm and inviting.
Benji matches his gaze, an air of awe flashing through his features. It’s familiar, yet ever so different from the hero worship that persisted in their early days working together. Now, it has evolved into more of an appreciative awe, tinged with such strong fondness it makes Ethan’s heart swell. He feels he could stay here forever. No more Entity, no more nuclear collapse. Just him and Benji.
They are abruptly interrupted by a woman knocking against the decompression chamber, holding up the Podkova. Tapeesa? He prepares to move away from Benji’s embrace, but the other man strengthens his grip against his back, pulling him closer. The woman chuckles at them, which Benji reciprocates. He smiles.
He supposes he could stay a little while longer.