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It takes Paris mere hours after seeing the two together for the first time to realize their connection.
They’re in the tunnels under London, the apparent base of operations for this End of Days situation, and Paris is sitting at a table staring daggers at the agent who, only a couple of hours ago, had been escorting her. His name is Theo Degas, though when Ethan introduced him to her the man had interrupted to say most people call him by his last name. Naturally, since then, in the few times Paris has spoken she’s referred to him exclusively by his first name. Consequently, he’s returning the dagger stare in kind. Maybe that’s because he doesn’t trust her (they had been aiming guns at each other not that long ago) but in all fairness, she doesn’t trust him either. She doesn’t really trust any of these people save for maybe, in the tiniest way, Ethan.
Her trust in him is tenuous, mostly because she doesn’t understand him. What man in his right mind would recruit a criminal? Someone who had tried to kill him? Was the situation that dire? If she were him she wouldn't trust her. Sure, she had lent him a helping hand, but that was because she felt she owed him for sparing her. That and if anyone is going to get close enough to kill Gabriel it would be him. And at the time she thought she’d be too busy being six feet under to do it herself.
Now though, she sees an opportunity before her. A chance at revenge.
As for the other two men present, agents Benji Dunn and Luther Stickell, she’s yet to get a complete grasp on them. She can tell that Stickell is sick, based on the medical equipment and his haggard appearance. She wonders how long he has left. She wonders if whatever he’s doing for this, for them, for Ethan, is worth it. She can also tell that he’s incredibly intelligent, even with his body failing him. Still, he’s in as good spirits as he can be for the situation and cracks a couple of jokes at Ethan and Dunn’s expense mostly. She can see the history between the three of them and the curious part of her itches to know more but she shoves it down. Stickell eyes her untrustingly but gives her a nod of respect. That, she can appreciate.
As for Dunn… well.
He told her that they were friends. Which, she understands, was just a quick way to establish relationships so she didn’t blow the guy away. However, it shook something loose in her chest, a childish part of herself that hates the mostly solitary life she’s chosen to lead. She ignores it for the time being, still trying to understand the people around her before she jumps to conclusions that’ll just break her heart all over again. Dunn is smart. He’s quick witted and gentle. With her, with Theo, with Ethan. Dunn is.. humorous. At least he tries to be but the smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes- save for when he looks at Ethan. That’s when the puzzle piece she hadn’t realized she’d been looking for falls into place.
“As long as we don’t die before then!” Dunn comments to her jokingly after Ethan finishes a droning explanation of their plan. He says it to her in French, she notes. An attempt at connecting with her, maybe? Still, though he says it in a joking manner his eyes are empty.
“Benji..” Ethan scolds.
“Only kidding,” Dunn says, turning to Ethan. Then softer, “We’ll be alright.” It’s a reassurance, to who exactly is anyone’s guess, but she notices that when Dunn looks at Ethan everything about him.. softens.
She can tell that both men are weathered. Beaten down, maybe. She can see it in the lines on their faces and the bags under their eyes. But when they look at each other.. It’s almost like all that bleeds away.
Later, the two are tucked away in a corner talking in hushed tones while she makes herself useful, entrusted with weapon maintenance. She watches idly as Dunn links their hands. He puts his other hand over their linked fingers and shakes them with serious intent, saying something genuine that she doesn’t catch. Then he drops one hand but doesn’t let go of Ethan’s with the other.
And Ethan nods solemnly, raises their hands and kisses Benji’s knuckles gently, with great care and affection.
And it starts to all make sense to her. Years of this life, it’d be hard not to find comfort in one another. Paris hasn’t thought about love in a long time. To see it so pure and genuine almost.. shakes her. A part of her feels guilty for almost taking that from them. She looks away, feeling as though she’s intruding.
Her eyes land on Stickell, who she embarrassingly hasn’t noticed has been watching her.
“They’re cute,” he comments.
She grunts a response.
“Not much of a talker?”
“Not if I don’t have to be.”
“Hey, you’re the one caught staring.”
She focuses on the gun she’s meant to be cleaning.
“Look, I get it.” He says, “It’s jarring, right? To see so much love in this line of work?”
“Mm,” she acknowledges.
“Word of advice: A little softness now again isn’t gonna kill you. I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing keeping them going,” he says, nodding in Ethan and Dunn’s direction.
She isn’t sure what to say to that. She doesn’t want to think about it.
“Do me a favor?” He asks. She looks at him head on. “Keep them safe for me. The best you can?”
She nods assuredly, always having been good with a command. But then she finds herself asking, “Why me?”
“Because I won’t be able to,” Stickell says, acutely aware of his situation, “And you seem to know your way around a gun.” he points in the direction of the gun she’s handling with precision and offers a mischievous smile.
She finds the smallest smile gracing her lips.
“Okay.”
…
Grace finally puts it together atop the Bering Sea.
Ethan is in and out during their time in the decompression chamber. He mutters incoherently, cries out, says the names of people she doesn’t recognize. Only a few she actually does. It makes her heart ache. Ethan is clearly a man with a big heart. He loves so easily and so genuinely and it seems, time and time again, he’s had that ripped away from him. It kills her a little. She feels helpless, murmuring reminders that he’s okay and carding her fingers through his hair, unable to help against whatever plagues his mind and the post-deep sea diving sickness that wracks his body. All she can do is be there and that’s maybe the hardest part of all.
Grace has a tendency to run. From her problems, from her crimes, from country to country, from alias to alias. She finds it hard to stay in the same place, to stay for the same people, to stay for herself. But something about Ethan holds her still. There’s something magnetic about him, something that has pulled her into his orbit. This is the most she’s ever committed to someone or something in her entire life and while that scares her she finds that maybe, just maybe, this is something worth staying for. She doesn’t want to become just another name that haunts Ethan in his sleep but she does want to be someone who’s there for him in the daytime. She hopes that’s not mutually exclusive.
Something tells her it is, however, as one of the names out of Ethan’s mouth that she does recognize is that of Benji, who to her understanding has shown up for Ethan time and time again but still seems to haunt his dreams. She wonders why that is but figures it’s not her place to ask. Maybe if she sticks around long enough, she’ll find out. But in the meantime, she holds Ethan close and ignores the itch in the back of her mind saying that, for a reason she can’t pinpoint, this whole thing is inappropriate.
Eventually, Benji shows up with Paris, Degas, and Donloe in tow. All of them and their plane intact, thank god.
Ethan’s mostly calmed by the time of their arrival. He’s shaking mildly less and his breathing is mostly under control. Grace has since bundled up and joins Tapeesa for their team’s arrival.
Tapeesa is quick to reunite with her husband. It’s a warm sight in the harsh weather, the two of them embracing, him peppering kisses on her head, both of them overcome with relief. She’s happy for them. Meanwhile, Benji approaches and asks her frantically, “How is he?”
Benji is not the calmest man she’s ever met, sure, but due to the task at hand he’s been about as zoned in as one could expect. He’s been especially serious lately, performing tasks with steady hands and steadier breaths. Now though, she can see that he’s panicked. His head is bleeding and he doesn’t seem to care at all. He’s not even put on a new jacket over his sweater, having rushed out of the plane in a panic. His eyes are wild, his hands are shaking, and he is desperate.
It worries her.
“He’s doing as well as he could be, he’s in the-” but Benji has already disregarded her in favor of stomping towards the decompression chamber. She chases after him hurriedly, “He’s been in and out of it, Benji, I don’t think-”
Benji spins on his heel- or does the best approximation of that in snow- “I need to see him,” he says, voice cold and deadly serious.
She freezes, “Okay.”
It seems all the hubbub has stirred Ethan from his cocoon, and as a muffled voice asks, “Benji?” The chamber opens revealing a half dressed Ethan who’s blinking into the sun and shivering in the biting cold.
Benji turns again, all malice at the thought of being kept from his.. Ethan, melting out of him in an instant. “Ethan, love, what are you doing?” he asks frantically, closing the distance between them and immediately taking Ethan into his arms.
Ethan practically falls into him, “I heard your voice,” he murmurs into Benji’s shoulder, “Are you okay?”
Benji laughs humorously, “You’ve been to the bottom of the ocean and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”
Ethan pulls back best he can and gets a good look at Benji, “You’re hurt..” he murmurs, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
Benji looks as if he may cry, “Don’t worry about me, Ethan.”
“I always worry about you,” Ethan says, “I love you.”
Benji laughs, “Get back in your chamber, you fool.”
“‘M fine.”
“You’re not wearing any trousers,” Benji says, shoving Ethan back in, “Get your priorities straight.”
Ethan says something else that she can’t hear. She knows this because Benji’s face softens even more, if that’s even possible, and then he says, “Of course,” and joins Ethan inside.
Oh, Grace thinks.
She stomps off towards the others, who have begun packing up her and Tapeesa’s gear and corralling dogs onto a plane, and lends a very cold but helping hand.
Eventually, Benji and Ethan reemerge. Ethan is the best he’s looked since she pulled him from the ocean- that is to say, slightly more alive- and Benji looks as if he’s been crying. But they’re alright from the looks of it, as good as they can be at least.
Grace understands now that Benji doesn’t haunt Ethan like she had first interpreted. Not like the others seem to, at least. No, Ethan cries out for him in his sickly sleep because he loves him. Because he cares for him. Because they’ve no doubt seen some shit together. Grace thinks they’re cute, in a weird way. It feels almost like impossible love. She can hardly stay in one place for longer than a week and yet, against all odds, those two can stay by each other’s side for decades. Some people are just built differently, she supposes. Or maybe those two just love differently. They love passionately, that she understands.
Later, whilst they gear up for the hopeful conclusion to this entire endeavor, Grace gets a moment alone with Benji and apologizes for cuddling his husband.
“It’s okay,” he says, “Someone had to do it. If not me, I’m glad it was you.”
It’s his way of saying thank you for saving his life.
…
Degas is the last to find out.
By the time the rubble is cleared there’s hardly any sun left for Degas to blink at and hardly a pulse for waiting medics to check before they whisk Benji off to the nearest hospital. He and Donloe had carried him out once a pathway was cleared and as they hand Benji over to the medical professionals, Ethan is there and at his side in an instant, tunnel visioned onto Benji’s pale face and parted lips and the blood the rest of them are all covered in. He’s crying but his voice is steady as he rambles reassurances to Benji that he probably can’t even hear. He’s limping, Degas notices. He follows along hopelessly as they prepare to med evac Benji and eventually force him away as they work.
It’s clear to him that Ethan doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Grace and Paris come to stand on either side of him. Paris’ hands are clenched in bloody fists at her sides and Grace’s hands are mysteriously empty of any Entity cube but at this point in time Degas doesn’t.. care.
They’ve just saved the world. He’s jeopardized his career, his life, his future for this. For his morals. And thankfully, it had worked out. The Entity was defeated, the day was saved, but none of it felt rewarding- not with Benji’s life hanging in the balance.
All of them stand there as the helicopter takes off, Ethan left behind.
Ethan turns around and faces Kittridge. He demands, his voice completely wrecked, “Take me to him.”
Kittridge remains cold, “Ethan…” he starts.
“Take me to him!” Ethan repeats.
Degas’ mouth starts moving before he can think, “the man just did your job for you and you’re gonna tell him no?”
Kittridge glares at him and Degas’ heart sinks. So much for job security.
But then Grace pipes up beside him, “We just saved the world, no thanks to you! Give the man a ride!”
Paris joins in after that, “Let him go.” she demands, voice icy cold.
It warms Degas’ heart. He’s been an agent for a while now and has never known comradery or loyalty like this. They were the most ragtag group of inexperienced misfits possible and they had come out on top. And they were still standing united. It wasn’t like this, working with Briggs.
Ethan stares at Kittridge expectantly.
“I think it’s in your best interest to let the man go, sir.”
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Degas barely registers Briggs himself standing beside Kittridge. It makes Degas’ heart sink. He’s talking to Kittridge but he’s staring right at Degas.
Kittridge finally relents, “Right this way, Hunt.” And he’s off. Ethan gives them one short nod of thanks, all that he has time for, and follows him to the nearest aircraft.
Meanwhile, Briggs is suddenly walking right towards them.
“Is that the man you used to work with?” Grace asks tiredly.
“Yeah,” Degas comments.
“Didn’t he want Ethan dead?”
“Pretty much.”
Grace, thinking quickly, turns and starts shoving Degas (and consequently Paris) in the direction of the remaining medical team and shouts, “Hey! Do you think you guys could give us a quick once over?”
Degas is endlessly grateful for her.
So the medics look them over. They wash away the blood that doesn’t belong to them and bandage up a couple of minor cuts. Really, it’s a miracle they’re all as well off as they are. They’re sitting beside each other with shock blankets and water bottles when Degas says, “Thanks for the save.”
“Yeah, of course,” Grace comments, “Thought I could buy you some time.” She smiles a little and Degas returns it the best he can.
Then Paris asks, “Do you think he’ll survive?”
It shatters everything.
Because the truth is, they don’t know. Paris had bought him some time but he was still sporting a collapsed lung and burrowed bullet. His odds were anybody's guess and that scared him.
“I..” Grace starts but she doesn’t finish the sentence.
“You did the best you could,” Degas manages.
“And if it’s not enough?” Paris asks him. Her hands are still shaking and he follows her eyeline to the blood under her nails.
Then Briggs appears again. “Not to eavesdrop," he starts, “But I’m hearing word that Dunn is in surgery. He’s still alive, in case you all wanna stop looking so goddamn miserable.”
The girls are cold to him, despite the news he brings.
“Thanks,” Degas says.
Briggs gives him a look, “Can I talk to you, kid?”
Degas sighs and decides to bite the bullet. He gets up, “Yeah.”
Grace gives him a worried look but he shakes his head. She takes his spot next to Paris and pulls the woman into an awkward, half hearted hug that Paris initially freezes at but eventually leans into.
Once out of earshot, Degas starts, “Look, I’m-”
Suddenly, Briggs is pulling him into a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he says before pulling away just as fast. “I can’t believe you fucked off and joined Hunt.” he says the man’s name with disdain.
The whole thing startles Degas. Had Briggs been… worried about him? “I’m not going to apologize.”
“Good. Don’t. A man with morals is better than a man who blindly follows.”
“Right…” Degas says anxiously.
“C’mon, you’re acting like I’m crazy for caring about you.”
“Sorry,” Degas says, “I just assumed you’d be pissed at me.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I am,” Briggs says, “But I’ll save that for when your friend isn’t actively being cut open, I’m not a monster.”
Degas cringes, “Right.”
“I really am sorry that he got so hurt. He’s a good agent when he’s not using his brain to help keep his husband a step ahead of us.”
Degas starts to nod, starts to agree, but then does a double take at the last part when it finally registers, “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah, yeah, Hunt did us all a favor here, but his methods, man- I really thought he kidnapped you, you know!”
“No! Not- wait, what?”
“I wouldn’t put it past the guy.”
Degas shakes his head, “Okay, moving past that, did you say husband?”
“Yeah,” Briggs says casually, “Why?”
“Is that supposed to be, like… a dig at them?” Degas asks, becoming more uncomfortable and angry by the second.
“What!?” Briggs asks, offended, “No!”
“I knew you hated Ethan but I didn’t think you were the type to stoop so low-”
“No, no, I’m not making a gay joke here, they’re actually married.”
That stops Degas in his tracks. “What?” he asks.
“Did you really not know that?” Briggs asks incredulously.
“No! Are you fucking with me?”
“No!” Briggs says, “Here, go ask your friends, they’ll know!”
Degas turns around to do just that, walking back over to Paris and Grace and asking point blank, “Are Ethan and Benji married?”
“Yes,” Grace says. Paris nods. “Why?”
“Are you serious?!”
“Yes?” Grace asks, “Is it not obvious?”
“It’s pretty obvious,” Briggs agrees, having followed him back over. “They’re very.. In love. It’s insufferable.”
“How did I miss this?” Degas asks desperately.
“Just-” Grace starts, “Think about it for a second.”
So he does.
He thinks about how the hushed tones they spoke to each other in when they didn’t want anyone to hear. He thinks about their foreheads pressed together on the plane. He thinks about the way they knew each other’s routines perfectly, the way they shared food and beds, the way they spoke fondly of each other, and the way they could finish each other’s sentences.
“I’m pretty sure they hyphenated their last names,” Briggs comments.
“I feel so stupid right now,” Degas comments, “I’m the biggest idiot in the world.”
Briggs pats him on the back, “Don’t worry. This is only the second dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”
“What’s the first?” he asks.
“Going AWOL and then almost getting blown up.”
Degas sighs, “Fair enough.”
It’s then Donloe appears at their side with Tapeesa next to him, “Gentlemen, Ladies,” he says, “I’m told we have residency at the hotel across from the hospital. How do showers and spending the foreseeable future in a hospital waiting room sound?”
Grace sighs, “No new word on Benji?”
Donloe shakes his head, “Not just yet. But I’m sure he’ll pull through. He loves Ethan too much to leave him.”
Degas grumbles to himself. Grace gives him a sympathetic smile.
Benji does, in fact, pull through. And by the time they’re allowed to see him Ethan has planted himself at Benji’s bedside, their hands intertwined. Benji smiles at him soft and sweet and Ethan kisses him every chance he gets even though Benji keeps complaining about having morning breath after the anesthesia but Ethan doesn’t care even one bit.
And that’s what makes Degas finally believe it.
Benji has to shove Ethan off of him at one point, “Okay, Okay, that’s enough PDA in front of the kids,” he jokes.
“Oh, right!” Grace says, “Degas didn’t know you guys were married!”
“Wow!” Degas says, “Way to throw me under the bus.”
Ethan chuckles, “Well ideally you all keep that to yourself. I don’t need that information getting into the wrong hands.”
“Oh please,” Benji comments, “I’ve already been kidnapped because I love you, I don’t think it’ll make much of a difference.”
“Still,” Ethan says, “I’d rather air on the side of caution.”
Grace, Degas, and Paris exchange looks. None of them have the heart to tell him that everybody already knows. And anyway, Degas figures it’s hard to hide when you love someone as much as they love each other.
Benji gives them a wink.
“What was that?” Ethan asks.
“Nothing, babe.” Benji says before pulling Ethan into another kiss.