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2006
“Talk to me, Benji.”
It effectively pulls Benji from his panic. Well, not really. His heart is still going 100 miles per minute and his hands are sweaty and he can’t quite catch his breath but it gets him to shut up about legalities and tell Ethan where he needs to go. Ethan is somewhere in Shanghai, disavowed and desperate, and he had called on Benji in his time of need. Ethan Hunt, that is. Personally, he thinks he has every right to panic, his job is on the line here and Ethan-fucking-Hunt is asking him for directions, and the thing is.. When Ethan-fucking-Hunt comes calling, you help. How could he not? Job be damned. Something about Ethan trumps all that other nonsense. There’s a magnetic pull about the man that Benji finds himself caught in and he almost can’t help himself as he goes through the motions of getting Ethan the information he’s looking for. He could hang up, sure, but at the same time he can’t.
He’s rambling now, looking over his shoulder and glancing around, scolding Ethan-fucking-Hunt for putting him in this position as if Benji had no control over the situation himself. He doesn’t feel like he does. He can’t even remember what he’s saying as he says it, his brain moving too fast to keep up with his mouth. And then Ethan says, “Thanks Benji, I owe you.”
And the line goes dead.
It feels like he’s a puppet that’s had its strings cut, left a mess of wood and felt on the floor. He’s breathless and acutely aware of just how alone he really is without Ethan on the other side of the phone. Quietly, he puts the phone back on its receiver and leans back in his chair, hoping desperately that nobody had noticed his mini freakout. Or major freakout. Depends on how you look at it.
After that it’s a waiting game. He wonders if Ethan will emerge, if his name will be cleared, or if Benji’s law breaking would be for nought.
Either way, he feels as though today has been life changing.
2011
“Talk to me, Benji.”
This time, Ethan is looking at him when he says it, no phone needed.
Benji was right, that day was life changing. Or, life slightly altering if nothing else. Ethan did come back from Shanghai, worse for wear but alive and successful in his mission. And Benji had helped. He felt.. proud? Something he’d done had been crucial to the mission’s success. Something about the adrenaline rush, the fear, the panic, the limited time, it all lit a fire within him. Benji wanted more out of life. Out of his job, out of the IMF. So he became a field agent.
He was quickly realizing that it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Ethan is looking at him now, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, and Benji is worrying the inside of his bottom lip, afraid to admit what the mission requires. Right now, staring down at the climbing gloves in his hands and glancing up through a window in the tallest building on planet Earth, a part of him is unbelievably grateful for the fact that he’s far too inexperienced and far too clumsy to be the one responsible for this particular aspect of the mission.
The other part of him looks at Ethan and thinks to himself, oh no.
The thing is, Ethan is.. nice. Mostly. He’s nice to Benji. He’s nice to Benji when he fumbles with field agent duties and almost screws up the mission which some of the other agents he’s been partnered with have been.. less kind about. But then again, he’s not sure he’d been so clumsy prior to Ethan’s appearance. With other people, he’d been a nervous wreck, absolutely terrified of embarrassing himself. He’d bite his tongue, put his head down, and try his best to focus. But with Ethan, he finds it much too easy to talk his ear off. Which in of itself is embarrassing. Ethan Hunt is one of the greatest agents to ever grace the IMF and here Benji is making an absolute fool of himself in front of him at every turn.
And Ethan, for his part, doesn’t give him dirty looks or snap at him. At worst he tunes Benji out in order to focus. At best, he gives him the best smile he can manage. Which, Benji understands, given.. Well, everything. It’s nice. It reminds Benji of why he wanted to become a field agent. Why he is a field agent, now.
He tells Ethan the situation, much to Ethan’s chagrin, but a mission is a mission and amazingly and death defyingly, he gets it done. He always seems to. He’s kind of amazing like that.
When this mission is over, Benji will be different. What he doesn’t know right now is that it’ll have less to do with the success of the mission and more to do with the smell of gunpowder and the feeling of cool metal in his hands.
2015
“Talk to me, Benji.”
“I’m looking!” Benji replies, now very used to Ethan’s words. The phrase has lost its effectiveness in recent time. Partially because Benji’s used to it and partially because he’s perfectly capable of freaking out and doing his job at the same time. Right now though, he’s only just started scanning the security cameras and Ethan is severely underestimating how long it takes to look at the faces of every person in an opera house.
That and he’s still reeling from speaking to Ethan at all.
It’s been months since Ethan disappeared. Months of deskwork and polygraphs and hating his job and also kind of his entire life. It’d been months of misery. Months of confusion and worry. Months of thinking about Ethan and wondering.
And then here he was. Seemingly safe and sound, calling on Benji once more in his time of need. That still hadn’t lost its sheen, all these years later. Ethan needing him became less about being needed by Ethan-fucking-Hunt and more about wanting to help his friend, Ethan. Still, it meant a lot to him. But a lot of that was currently being overpowered by his overwhelming need to ask questions, to figure out where Ethan’s been all this time, to figure out why now. Why not call on him from the start? Admittedly, that part had been bothering him. Did he not trust him enough? Was Benji not good enough? It got in his head.
So did months of lying to Hunley about the status of their friendship.
But here they both were. At the opera, dressed in their finest, looking for the leader of a terrorist organization that Benj’s organization was confident didn’t exist. An organization Ethan was certain existed. Benji tended to believe Ethan before anyone or anything else. But after the disaster that ended up being the opera he knew that Ethan needed him. He knew that Ethan was just one man, in over his head, and pushing Benji away all over again.
It made him.. angry. Angry that Ethan had left him alone all this time. Angry that Ethan didn’t think he could handle himself. Angry that Ethan would rather jump head first into danger by himself than ask for help. It killed him a little.
It was then that Benji decided that he knew what his job was. His mission, should he choose to accept it, was to watch Ethan’s back. Whether he wanted him there or not. Whether Benji wanted to be there or not. No matter the danger. Because Ethan needed him more than he would ever, ever admit. And Benji had no plans of letting him go rogue by himself ever again.
2019
“Talk to me, Benji.”
They’re alone in the medical tent that Ethan’s been staying in, recovering from his latest death defying stunt. Benji had watched from afar earlier, watched Ilsa and Julia have some whispered exchange before they stepped away from each other, Ilsa towards Ethan and Julia away from him. Something tells him that she’s stepping away for the last time.
Benji stood and watched. Watched from afar as Ethan anxiously looked over Ilsa’s injuries. He felt he had intruded on their moment. He eventually tapped Luther on the shoulder and stumbled off without another word. Luther nodded at him. And since then he’d been avoiding Ethan. Content to sit by himself and lick his wounds.
That is until Ilsa found him and said, “He’s looking for you.”
Benji jumped. He’s not sure what at, either her sudden appearance or the information she presented him. He hummed an acknowledgment.
“It’ll look more suspicious if you keep avoiding him.”
Benji had huffed, “You don’t even know why I’m avoiding him.”
“I can guess,” she had said, “Go see him.” And then she walked away.
She had been right, of course she was, she was Ilsa. She wouldn’t pry, wouldn’t put her nose where it didn’t belong unless the mission counted on it and he did the same for her. But she knew him now, for better or for worse, and he knew she was right.
So that’s how Benji ends up standing in the shadows of the medical tent in the evening. That’s how Ethan ends up giving him the well worn command.
Still, Benji is stubborn. More so now than he used to be.
“What do you want me to say?”
Ethan rolls his eyes.
“Don’t strain yourself now,” Benji teased but there was no real heart in it.
“Are you okay?” Ethan asks.
Benji scoffs, “You spent the afternoon crashing helicopters and you’re asking if I’m okay?”
It’s true. Once again, Ethan had nearly gotten himself killed for the sake of the mission. It was starting to take a toll. Not on Ethan, no it rarely seemed to bother him, but on Benji. He’s not sure how many more times he can hold his breath and wait to hear the news. Or wait for Ethan to land on solid ground again, battered, but alive. He’d learned that he could tag along on all of Ethan’s insane endeavors but he could never stop the man from putting all else above himself. And that was hard to cope with.
“I’m fine,” Ethan reminded him, “I got my medical treatment. You’re always on me about that, I thought you’d be happier.”
It was Benji’s turn to roll his eyes, “You only got it because you were unconscious when they found you. If you could still walk by the end of it I’m sure you would have fought me on it.”
Ethan smiles a little at that, “Sorry.”
Benji shakes his head, “Don’t apologize.” He would never ask Ethan to apologize for the actions he takes to make the world go round.
“Why are you standing so far away?” Ethan asks suddenly.
“Huh?” Benji asks, playing dumb despite purposely having hidden himself in the corner.
“Come here,” Ethan says, gesturing weakly to the spot beside his bed, “I can’t see you.”
No lie would get him out of this. He could walk away but it’d just make things worse for himself. Ilsa was right.
So Benji steps forward, into the soft light of the nearby lamp, and tries to act as naturally as possible.
He’s acutely aware of the angry red ring of rope burn around his neck. Of the red scratches left over from his desperate fingernails. He’s aware of the cut on his forehead and the popped blood vessels in his eyes and littering his face. He’s acutely aware that he got his ass kicked whilst Ethan saved the day. He’d always been embarrassed by that. Every time Ethan was fighting the good fight Benji was off somewhere getting kidnapped or beaten- losing. And if he were younger, if he were a fresher agent, he’d still feel that way. His face would still heat up, his ears would turn red, and he’d feel that humiliation. But now that he’s resigned himself to that role it’s not quite about being an action movie hero or even impressing Ethan anymore.
Now it just haunts him.
The only reason he’s still awake at this hour is because he’s afraid to go to sleep. He’s afraid to see Lane in his dreams. He’s afraid to be caught unawares.
Ethan’s eyes go wide at the sight of him. “Benji-”
Benji shakes his head, “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Have you been checked out? Have you seen Julia?”
Benji damn near flinches at the mention of her name. The last thing he wants to do is bring her back into this bullshit. “I’m okay,” he repeats, “I just got roughed up. Nothing to worry about.”
Ethan reaches for him like he had reached for Ilsa. Benji selfishly lets him. He tries not to jerk at the feeling of anything near his neck, still reeling from the day's events. Ethan is gentle. He has nothing to worry about.
“Benji..” Ethan whispers.
“Don’t,” Benji says, “You don’t need to worry about me. It happens.”
Ethan frowns, “Doesn’t mean I like it.”
Benji is reminded of their conversation after the Opera some years ago now. He’s since made it his goal to never let Ethan know how badly he’s been hurt. He doesn’t need to give Ethan another reason to ditch him.
“Well,” Benji says, “What can you do?”
Ethan stares at him, lips pursed.
Benji steps back a bit, “I promise it looks worse than it is.”
“You promise?”
“Swear,” Benji says.
Ethan doesn’t look like he believes him but he lets it go. Benji feels much the same way.
2023
“Talk to me, Benji!”
This time someone else beats Benji to the punch. Himself.
The Entity has taken over their comms, has wormed its way into their computer, and is currently giving Ethan the wrong directions. He yells into the comms in vain, trying to give some kind of warning, but it’s fruitless. He and Luther smash their laptops and Benji sprints into the night after Ethan.
It’s.. relieving, in a way, that this time it’s not necessarily his fault. He’s led Ethan astray before, purely accidentally, but this is not that. It’s his voice, sure, but it’s not him. Still, the Entity shouldn’t have been able to get in. That he blames himself for. Add it to the list.
He’s been feeling shitty since the airport. Since the bomb. Benji’s seen enough bombs in his lifetime to be sick of them at this point. Some macabre part of his brain is almost impressed by the personality cypher attached to it. At least someone, or something, is trying to keep things fresh. The rational part of his brain is horribly embarrassed and miserable at having been tormented by such a thing. At having to share those things with the world, with his friends.
It’s pathetic. In his line of work, it’s weak. Lately, he’s been hating his line of work.
His feelings on the matter are cemented when he gets to Ethan too late. When he finds Ilsa lying there, blood pooling around her. It’s then that he decides he regrets most of the choices he’s made in this life. It’s then that he wishes he was never given the choice. For a second, a part of himself thinks that he wishes he never met Ethan Hunt.
But he’s lying to himself about that part. He’s only still here because of Ethan Hunt. Not just in the sense that he’s alive but in the sense that Ethan is what keeps him here. Keeps him moving. Keeps him working for the IMF. He’s beginning to think it’s been this way for a long time.
They brief Grace, Luther takes his leave, and Benji spends the next afternoon trying to coordinate the most convoluted and over complicated train boarding of all time on Ethan’s behalf.
Eventually, Ethan either makes it or he doesn’t. And Benji is left alone with himself, waiting for any sign of Ethan’s survival. It hurts more now, with the knowledge that he’s only still doing this for one singular man. With the knowledge that he’s not the first person to do so much on Ethan’s behalf. Ilsa was not the first either. He fears she won’t be the last. He’s barely had time to mourn her. He wishes it was himself in her stead, sitting there and watching the train be derailed. At least she had freedom, at least she could slip away, start anew. She loved Ethan but she wasn’t as bound to him as Benji is.
If Ethan doesn’t come back from this Benji doesn’t know what he’ll do.
But Ethan comes back, because Ethan always comes back. Benji feels this is unfair. He’s fairly certain Ethan feels the same way. Benji wouldn’t sacrifice Ethan for anything in a million years but he knows that Ethan would give himself up in a heartbeat. The bodies behind him kill him, this Benji knows. Benji doesn’t want to add to that hurt, that grief, that guilt. But things seem bleak, even as Ethan hands him the cruciform key.
Ethan is going to lay his life on the line for the world. That’s just what he does. He’d sooner die than let a stranger go in his stead. People keep dying for him anyway. And if that’s the curse that Ethan Hunt is meant to bear then Benji Dunn will do what he can to make sure it ends with himself.
He thinks that’s what he was put here to do, all those years ago.
2025
“Talk to me, Ethan.”
Benji’s fairly certain he’s never uttered those words in that order before. It feels foreign on his tongue.
They’re sharing Benji’s hospital bed. It’s cramped and Benji still aches but he’s fairly sure it somehow makes it easier to breathe and he needs that, considering the whole collapsed lung of it all.
Ethan's staring at him sadly, big eyes wet with unshed tears. Benji knows he’s thinking but not speaking. He’s been like this for a while now, since the would-be end of the world.
“I don’t.. I don’t know,” Ethan says quietly.
“You don’t know… what?” Benji asks, turning his head a bit to get a better look at him.
“You seem different,” Ethan says, “But I don’t know in what way.”
Benji raises an eyebrow at him. He is different. He got shot. He was fully expecting to die when he sent Ethan away. He was half expecting the world to end. Instead, neither of those things happened. Instead, they’re curled up in a hospital bed. “I don’t know what to tell you anymore than you know what to say,” Benji murmurs.
“Right,” Ethan agrees.
They lay there in silence again but Benji knows that’s not the end of the conversation. A few minutes later he asks, “What?”
“You could have died,” Ethan says matter of factly.
“I know,” Benji says, unable to hide the exasperation in his voice, “But I didn’t.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
That makes Benji freeze. He can sense that Ethan knows he’s hit a nerve.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Ethan reminds him, his voice steady and calm despite the tears threatening to spill over in his eyes.
“I know that,” Benji says, having to clear his throat to make himself sound normal. His voice is wavering.
“Then why don’t you act like it?” Ethan whispers.
Benji’s lip quivers.
Ethan continues, “I’m sorry,” he says. “I haven’t.. I didn’t notice. So much has happened and I haven’t.. I should have been checking in more. I didn’t realize how bad things had gotten. You shouldn’t.. You shouldn' t have..”
“Wanted to die?” Benji finishes the sentence, his voice even worse now.
Ethan cringes, “I never wanted that for you. I never, ever wanted you to feel that way.”
“Please don’t blame yourself,” Benji whispers, any louder and he’d start sobbing, “You.. you had nothing to do with this, this was my own undoing, I just… someone had to be there, Ethan. You needed someone. You do so much for everyone and you get screwed over for it time and time again-”
“You didn’t need to die for it-”
“Didn’t I?!” Benji snaps. He covers his mouth and sits up with great effort. He’s crying now, well and truly.
He can feel Ethan sit up behind him. “Please don’t say that, Benji,” Ethan says.
“I’m sorry,” Benji cries, “I don’t mean that, that’s unfair.”
“I don’t ask for these things to happen to me, Benji.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t ask you to stay.”
“I know…” Benji whispers, “It’s not your fault, none of it’s your fault, I did this to myself.”
“I don’t understand why,” Ethan pushes, “Just because others came before you?”
“No, you moron,” Benji snaps again, “Because you’re worth it. I’d die a hundred times over before I lost you if I could. Ethan, if it weren’t for you I would have retired or quit years ago. I love you. That’s why I stayed.”
“And now you wish you were dead.”
Benji turns around the best he can to face him, “No, I don’t wish I were dead!” He all but shouts, now openly crying, “I was just expecting it! With the way things were going, after everything we’ve lost, I… I had resigned myself to it. And now I’m here. And you’re here. And against all odds we’re both alive and I don’t.. I don’t know what to do with myself,” he admits.
Ethan’s crying too. Silent streams of tears down his cheeks. Benji wonders if he really did die. If this is how Ethan would have reacted. “I wish you would have told me this stuff sooner.”
Benji laughs hollowly, “I think we had bigger things to worry about.”
Ethan shakes his head. He reaches for Benji’s hands, “Please don’t keep this to yourself anymore. Talk to me. Keep talking to me. Never stop talking to me.”
“Be careful what you wish for, I never shut the fuck up.” Benji sniffs. It’s a half truth these days. He’s not the same man he was when they first met. Nowadays, he’s much more silent.
“I want it,” Ethan says anyway, “Please, Benji. You survived. We survived. Let’s live.”
“I don’t think I remember how to do that,” Benji says. He doesn’t remember life outside of survival. Outside of Ethan. Outside of constant danger and death and the assumption that someone has to die for Ethan Hunt. Like a sacrifice to a deity.
He supposes, in a way, he’s living proof that that’s not true at all. He’d forgotten a truth he learned a long time ago- Ethan is just a man. So is Benji. They’re nothing special, not in the grand scheme of things.
“I don’t think I remember either,” Ethan acknowledges, “But I’d like to learn, if you’re willing to try.”
Benji nods, “I can try.”
“And,” Ethan sniffs, “I do need you. I always have. But for the record, I need you alive.”
“Okay,” Benji says.
“Please,” Ethan adds.
“I understand,” Benji whispers.
“Good,” Ethan says. He pulls Benji into a hug, “I love you.”
It’s then that Benji realizes what all this has been. From the very first phone call to this very moment. That pull he’s felt towards Ethan ever since they met. It’s been twisted, disfigured, misinterpreted by his own failing brain, but it’s been constant. It’s love. It’s so much love that it hurts.
For the first time, he thinks to himself that he doesn’t want love to hurt anymore.
He takes a deep breath, “I love you too.”
It’s already starting to shake loose.