A/N: Thank you for not killing me! And for still being interested in this story. Here's the new chapter, I hope it's good enough.

I don't own Mission: Impossible.

Chapter 3

"What happened next?" Ethan asked after a long pause. Jane wasn't even trying to stop the tears at this point.

"We ran for it," Luther was staring into the air in front of him. "Left the body behind. Brandt…" he noticed Jane's hands form into fists at the name, "Brandt later explained that we couldn't have let Benji go, not with the secrets he knew. And that he would have suffered with his… mental state anyway".

There was another pause, cut off by a sigh from Luther.

"I just think he was looking for excuses for himself. To assure himself there really was no other way, you know… Anyway, we came back home, Brandt asked for a vacation and I haven't seen him in a few days since then".

"But what if… what if it's some kind of a trick?" Jane made an attempt at making a logical explanation to this madness. She couldn't believe that Benji was gone, and processing the fact that he was murdered by Brandt was even more difficult.

"How can we know it was actually them?" Ethan asked suddenly, and two sets of eyes focused on him, confused. "I once pulled this trick when some guys were after me. You must remember it, Luther. Just put a mask on a guy and made them think it was me".

Jane's eyes lightened with hope. The sparkle was gone as soon as she saw Luther shake his head.

"We ran DNA tests before they had come in. For both of them. It was definitely them".

There was a pause as Jane covered her face with her hands and Ethan looked down.

"And what if…"

"No, Ethan. Trust me, I know a dead man when I see one. I have thought about it a lot. I don't want to believe it, either. But I was there and saw it".

Something cold and tight was wrapping itself around the younger agents' chests. Something was clenching their throats with a suffocating grip. They didn't know how long they had been sitting there, not thinking about time. They had no idea what to do. Subconsciously they were angry. It was easy to blame everything on Brandt but what if he really had no choice? And he would have never done what he did if there had been a slightest glimpse of hope. And Benji… Would he have gotten back to normal if he had lived? Or would he have spent the rest of his life in… that state? Paranoid, delusional, so painfully not himself…

All these thoughts were running through all of the three agents' minds, as if they were sharing them wordlessly. It was Ethan who broke the silence.

"I think we should try to figure it all out together," he looked at Luther, his eyes filled with a mix of sincere gratitude to his friend for letting them know the truth and sorrow at what they had just learned. "Thank you, Luther".

He shook his friend's hand and he and Jane left without saying anything.

There was a wordless agreement that Ethan would take Jane home. He just opened the door of his car and motioned for her to get in and she did. Not a single word was spoken on their entire way. No words were required as no words could express the storm of thoughts in both of their heads. Soon the storm was over, leaving both of them empty and numb. They were just tired after their mission. Two tired bodies with blissfully empty minds. They had only been back in town that morning. Now it seemed like it had been years ago. Like in some different parallel universe, where Benji was alive and sane and Brandt didn't have his friend's death on his conscious. And this universe was utterly wrong and different. Jane wouldn't be surprised if she saw a zombie apocalypse break out right at that moment. Everything was possible in this new surreal world. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Everything was real. It was their world. She needed a drink.

It was a few seconds after the car had stopped when Jane realised they were there. She nodded at Ethan who offered a small humourless smile and got out of the car.

It still hadn't quite sunken in. Still needed its time to be digested. In her life she had gone through a lot. Especially given their line of work. It was inevitable, really. They were at wars all the time. Invisible wars. Different wars. But wars nevertheless. And people get hurt and die at war. And there also often are traitors, she thought, pouring some brandy into the glass. She wanted someone to tell her it wasn't true. Or just give her something to cling to. I should have invited Ethan to come in, she mused as she settled herself on the couch. Whenever she had lost someone before, there always had been someone with her, be it a relative or a friend. Last time it was when Trevor had been killed. It was Benji who had been sitting in front of her on that train taking them away from Budapest, and even though they hadn't known each other that well by that point, his mere presence was reassuring. They hadn't spoken at all but she was sure Benji had known what she had been feeling. It was like some sort of a wordless communication that had formed between them. Something that would show itself later on… But not anymore. She didn't know how much time had passed as she sat on her couch with the lights off. She didn't notice as she fell asleep on that same couch, the untouched glass of brandy still on the coffee table in front of her.

Ethan watched Jane walk to the door and then remained in his place for a couple more minutes, watching the lights being switched on inside. He sighed. Damned professional habits. Having to be on full alert despite any personal circumstances. Here there wasn't even any logical reason to worry. They weren't on any mission, there was no real threat. And yet those instincts had been forming for years.

Shaking his head silently, Ethan started his car again. Now that he was alone he had an opportunity to reflect on the events of the day. Being more experienced than Jane, he took things slightly differently. What he had gone through during his years at IMF had taught him to cope with everything. It didn't mean that he couldn't feel grief anymore. It didn't mean there was no pain at all. Everything was just dulled down to some habitual level. Ethan smirked bitterly. Habits again. His eyes watched the road and the body responded to the information automatically while his mind kept replaying that video inside his head. Benji's wild eyes. Brandt's shaking hands. The shots. Right in the heart, Ethan mused absently. Convenient. A quick death without a too extensive bleeding. Less work for the cleaners had they been involved. His stomach twisted when he realised what he was thinking about. He was actually complimenting his friend's murderer. Who was also his friend. Ethan felt sick. Damned professional habits.

He was opening the door to his apartment when he heard someone approaching him. He tensed instinctively and turned to face the source of the sound.

"Ethan?" the voice was soothingly familiar. The agent let out an audible sigh when he saw a young woman step into view. It was Martha, a student who occupied a neighbouring apartment. Unlike most students her age, she was all into her studies.

"Hey," Hunt smiled at the girl. At one point Ethan had decided she was trustworthy enough and some things addressed to him were sent to her. It mainly was personal stuff. He rarely got anything anyway. And now she was holding some package.

"This arrived the other day," she said, handing him the package. It was clear she didn't quite understand why the whole chain of deliveries was necessary but was too shy to ask. "It says it's for you".

After thanking Martha and watching her hurry back to her apartment Ethan turned his confused look to the package. Once at home, he made sure the door was locked and opened the wrapping.

Inside there was a phone. No message attached, no carving, nothing. Letting out a nervous breath, Ethan pushed the button on the side, only to hear the already sickening "retinal scan required". So IMF now got to his personal contacts. He wondered who told about it. Only his closest friends knew, and he didn't have that many of them.

"Agent confirmed," could be heard after about two seconds. And then another voice sounded. The voice that made his eyes widen.

"Ethan, before I start, nobody must know that you got this message," Hunt's heart was pounding in his ears almost too loudly for him to recognise the voice. Almost. He knew it too well to make any mistakes. It was William Brandt. "Nobody except for you and Jane. I… I need your help".