A/N: Thank you for staying with me! The end is near. Some things in this chapter might seem odd to you but it will be explained later. Hope you enjoy!

I still don't own them…

Chapter 17

Time passed and there was nothing. Benji faintly heard the sounds from some distance but he couldn't make out any words and had no idea whether Brandt and Ethan had any progress. He assumed they didn't, otherwise they would be back by now. He looked at Jane who had passed out on the sofa a few minutes ago. She looked so uncharacteristically peaceful… He only hoped that her dreams were of a calmer kind than his own. He sighed as the sounds of the interrogation got louder. There, just a few meters away, was the man who was responsible for the deaths of his several friends. The man who had caused him so much pain. The man who had nearly killed his closest friends just a couple of hours earlier.

Benji knew the sensation that was overpowering him now. He was too familiar with it in the past weeks. It still felt alien and strange to him. Every cell of his body knew that this wasn't how he was supposed to be. His exhausted brain just pleaded for some rest but his mind disagreed, and this inside war just got him even more exhausted. The boiling rage was crashing him from the inside. His hands formed into fists and his heart was pounding so loudly that he could barely hear the voices. And yet he didn't move a muscle, letting it all build up even more. His stare was turned towards the door and he seemingly forgot about the time flowing by.

It was much later that two figures crossed his sight. He stared at them for a few seconds before recognising they were Ethan and Brandt. He absentmindedly noted that both of them looked tired and rather exasperated.

"Are you okay?" Ethan asked, looking at the Englishman's face attentively.

Benji just shrugged. He couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't just start yelling if he opened his mouth. Instead he just moved his gaze back to the room where Lovett still was.

"Nothing," Brandt said, reading his friend's expression. "Lovett's a highly trained and experienced agent. He knows how to handle interrogations better than any of us does".

Benji nodded and swallowed feverishly.

"Let me try," he finally croaked, his voice oddly low and growly as he tried to sound as quiet as possible in order not to wake up the still sleeping Jane. Hearing how there was no response at once, he looked at Ethan, trying to look as calm and composed as he could.

The team leader took some time to ponder this. On one hand, Benji was clearly not in the best condition, and facing Lovett now might lead to him finishing what he had started by grabbing the man's throat a few hours back. On the other hand, they simply didn't have any other ideas. Besides, he had to trust Benji and show that he still believed in him. After a long and quite stern look into the younger man's eyes, he nodded.

"We'll be near if you need us," he added, watching the former technician return the nod and stand up a bit too carefully, obviously applying some effort to hold himself together.

Brandt watched the scene and wanted to ask Ethan whether he really thought it was a good idea. However, he decided against it, as it would mean he doubted Benji. Instead, he sat in the chair which had been previously occupied by the Englishman and sighed, watching Jane in her sleep.

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Benji took in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. His hands were shaking and his legs felt weak all of a sudden. But he knew he couldn't lose it now. It would mean letting his team down, and he would rather die than let it happen. Giving himself another deep breath, he entered the room.

Lovett understandably looked even worse than when Benji had last seen him. Ethan and Brandt obviously hadn't been very nice to the man, and it was showing. In addition to the broken nose there were a lot of newer bruises and bleedings. Normally Benji would be shaken by the sight but now he didn't feel anything. Obviously, there was no room for compassion, but even anger stepped back, replaced by cold rage. That was actually very helpful.

"So how are you doing?" he asked, trying to sound casual, although his voice betrayed him for a second, trembling a bit.

"How nice to see you again, Benjamin," Lovett was too calm. He grinned at the Englishman, showing his teeth covered in blood. Hearing his name from this man was something the former technician absolutely hated. "You can see I'm doing great. Which I can't say about you…"

Benji clenched his fists so hard his nails almost broke the skin of his palms.

"I'm an old man, Benjamin," Lovett went on, noting how every mention of Dunn's first name made him jump. "And to treat an old man like this is just… Breaking an old man's nose… trying to strangle him… not very nice, is it, Benjamin?"

Benji could feel that he was losing his composure. He was dangerously close to wrapping his hands around the older man's neck again but he couldn't give him the satisfaction. If he snapped, it would mean that Lovett had won.

"I can see you are having some… difficulties, Benjamin," Lovett noted, as Benji still kept silent. "Trying to figure out how much of your problem is the remains of the drug in your system and how much is your own insanity?"

Benji had to turn around and look away. He could hear Lovett giggle quietly behind him. What the old man didn't know is that Benji was actually trying to hide a malicious grin from him. He suddenly didn't want to hold back. Lovett deserved to pay and he was going to pay…

"I stopped trying to figure that out a while ago," he growled, turning back. "However, that drug is interesting. What was it?"

Lovett was slightly taken aback by the response but tried to continue in the same tone.

"It's something I took from the IMF's laboratories. It was supposed be a truth drug but it had too many side effects and the project was pushed aside. Said side effects include paranoia, memory losses, loss of concentration and in some cases various pains. The main lingering…"

"… The main lingering effect is aggression, sometimes combined with the twisted perception of reality," Benji interrupted, staring at the wall, as if those words were written on it.

Lovett paused for a few seconds before bursting out laughing.

"I knew it!" he exclaimed. "I knew it was your handwriting on those files! What an irony – to fall victim of the weapon you had worked on yourself!"

His voice was suddenly cut off as Benji kicked at the chair he was tied to, sending the older man falling to the ground. The already familiar sensation of someone's hand squeezing his throat was back.

"Now you will shut up and listen," the Englishman hissed through gritted teeth. "If you thought I wouldn't figure out what it was you are a moron. I spent years on this project, I know it through and through. I've had some time here to work on it, by the way. So you have a choice. Either you tell me the name of the person you work for now, or we get it from you when you've become a vegetable. Which one do you choose?"

He could see the shock in Lovett's eyes being mixed with terror. The temptation to break his neck was almost too strong to resist. However, they needed the information first.

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Soon the disavowed agent walked in front of the people he used to call his colleagues. Not letting them ask any questions, he just breathed out:
"We've got the name".