Ethan "knows How To Ball" Hunt

ethan "knows how to ball" hunt

benji "knows aristotle" dunn

"Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?"

'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit

They said "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did

Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die

He'd said he'd love me all his life

But that life was too short

Breaking down, I hit the floor

All the pieces of me shattered while the crowd was chanting, "More!"

I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks

'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

Iceman: *Realizing that he has feelings for a tiny, feral pilot named Maverick* Iceman (to himself): What is this feeling? Iceman: LOATHING. Unadulterated loathing.

Little drabble...

I wrote this little drabble after a rewatch of M:I Fallout because I love angst and sometimes, we need a little Benthan angst. By the way, this little piece was totally inspired by this one scene from the movie "The Impossible"

Warning: severe injuries, talk of death, lots and lots of angst - this does take place at the end of Fallout and I kind of exaggerated Ethan's injuries a little for the sake of angst.

"He's right through here, sir," a doctor directs, opening the tent flap and gesturing inside. Benji takes one step into the tent and -

He freezes.

Because Ethan, his husband in everything but on paper, the absolute love of his life, is lying on a hospital bed, motionless, half in and out of unconsciousness. Bruise-like dark circles rimm his closed eyes, blood stains the side of his face and ears, and his pale, chapped lips are covered by a clear oxygen mask.

If it wasn't for the slow and shaky rise of his chest and the slow, but steady beep of his heart monitor, then Benji would've thought him dead. That, and the bags of blood and fluids hanging on his IV pole.

Ilsa stands by his side, taking up Ethan's position as the stalwart protector, and she turns around to see Benji standing at the tent entrance. And then, with a soft and sad smile, she turns back to the raven-haired man lying prone in the bed and gently shakes his shoulder.

"Ethan. Ethan," Ilsa says and the brunette woman's words snap Benji out of his trance, and he starts walking towards the bed. "Look who's here."

She steps out of the way and Benji takes her place by his partner's side, resting a slightly shaky hand on that dark head of hair that he loves to card his fingers through; that was something that shocked Benji when they first started dating, how much Ethan loved getting his hair played with. Ethan's eyes flutter open like he only has the strength to keep them half-open, but he doesn't seem to quite register him yet.

"Hey," Benji manages a weak greeting as Ethan's eyes finally meet his, recognition flashing in those green eyes, and he wheezes slightly into his oxygen mask. "Hey, my darling. Hey."

Ilsa, now on Ethan's other side, leans in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek and he weakly turns his head to face her, probably registering her presence for the first time. Benji supports his head as his partner looks around, muttering words that he can't quite understand but he knows what Ethan wants to say.

"We're all okay," he assures him through a voice thick with tears, watching Ethan's face carefully and worriedly as his green eyes stare unseeingly past Benji's shoulder.

"Am I dead?" Ethan asks feebly, that one question just shattering his already-shattered heart.

Benji shakes his head, shuddering with a sob, "No, no." His right hand still rests on Ethan's head, terrified that one too-hard touch would cause his partner to disappear forever.

Ethan weakly raises his hand, the one with a pulse oximeter clipped to his finger, towards the oxygen mask and Benji's other hand follows, covering the mask before he can take it off.

Briefly turning his head, he asks the doctors lingering in the tent, "Is it okay to take this off?" And when they nod, Benji slowly and carefully takes Ethan's oxygen mask off, assuring all the same, "Here, here, I've got it."

The moment that the plastic mask is off, Benji closes the distance, however small, between them, pressing his lips to Ethan's chapped ones. Blinded by tears, he trails his lips upwards before finally landing on Ethan's forehead, peppering light kisses onto his skin. He pulls back after a moment, breaths shaking.

"You came back," Ethan breathes out, relief in every inch of his tone. Benji smiles waterily, a shaky and breathless laugh leaving his lips as he nods. "You came back."

"Yeah," he assures, closing his eyes on another shuddering sob and he leans forward, pressing another kiss to the corner of Ethan's mouth. Benji pulls back, rubbing a gentle hand through the dark strands of hair on his forehead.

But, the words then whispered into his ear make him freeze and the relieved smile wraps into a concerned frown.

"I can rest now."

Fear twists Benji's heart when Ethan's eyes open and fix on the ceiling with startling clarity, and the man murmurs something that he can't quite hear.

"Ethan, what?" Benji asks, and when he doesn't get an answer, he asks more hurriedly, "What? What, darling?"

"I'm dying," his partner tells him with startling clarity in his voice, the most audible thing he's said this entire time.

"No," Benji immediately denies, watching with his heart in his throat as Ethan swallows, eyelids fluttering closed. "No, you're going to be fine."

"Take care of our team," Ethan whispers breathlessly, his green eyes fluttering open and locking onto Benji's blue once more.

"Hey," Benji starts to assure, his vice hoarse and raspy from the effort it takes to hold back his tears. His eyes sting for what feels like the millionth time and he holds them back; Ethan needs him now, he has to be strong. "That's not what I'm here for. You're going to be fine, they're going to take care of you, okay? I promise you, we're gonna be fine."

A whimper, low and feeble, leaves Ethan's lips as he admits, "I'm scared."

Heart breaking, Benji can only repeat, "We're gonna be fine." He leans in, pressing another kiss to his chapped lips and Ethan whimpers again, so he trails his lips upwards without a second thought, keeping up the stream of sweet nothings and assurances, "Sweetheart, I promise you you're gonna be okay."

"We're taking him to surgery. We need to take him now," a nurse says from behind him, firmly but not unkindly.

Benji slowly nods, steeling himself with an, "Okay." He pulls back slightly, keeping one hand braced on Ethan's head as he places the oxygen mask back over his mouth.

And then they're rolling Ethan through the medical tent to the makeshift OR and Benji stays right there, holding his hand and leaning over him until he gets forced away. There's salt on his tongue, tears dried on his cheeks.

And the entire walk down, Benji keeps up his rambling of assurances and sweet nothings, even though he's not sure if Ethan can even hear him, "I love you. You're going to be okay. I love you so much, I love you. I love you, Ethan, you know that, darling? I'm sorry if I let you down in any way."

And then Ethan is being taken away. Benji gives his hand one last squeeze, and then it slips away.

"Gleaming, twinkling...

...eyes like sinking ships on waters, so inviting, I almost jump in."