A/N: SO… I was supposed to type something entirely different when this one announced its arrival. (grins)

WARNINGS: injury, language, adult themes, REALLY HARSH recovery… uh, anyone still out there…?

DISCLAIMER: MUAH-HAH-HAA! yeah, right… like I'd EVER have the kind of a money to own ANYTHING involving Renner… just a girl dreaming, here – me owns NOOOOTHING

Awkay, before I chicken out… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

Fractured

Part 1 of 6 – Four Missed Phone Calls

The first time Ethan Hunt's phone rang he was on a mission. It began as he smashed his fist at a hostile's face, and the ringing ended as the ridiculously huge man came crashing down like a tree. Ethan took exactly two breaths before speeding on, his whole mind set on finishing up to mission.

He just got back from the previous mission before being handed this one, and once he got home someone would pay for not even giving him a breather.

While Ethan was in the middle of that gloomy thought a message was left to his answering machine. "Mr. Hunt, this is Dr. Elena Gibs. A patient who had you listed as his emergency contact was brought in half an hour ago. Please, call back as soon as possible."

Ethan didn't even have the time to check his phone before he found himself from a plane, on his way back home. He was so exhausted that a flight attendant cast a suspicious look towards him when he stumbled aboard. Only a disarming smile and the fact that he didn't reek of alcohol kept further questions at bay. The bruises on his face definitely didn't help the first impression.

Ethan slumped down to his seat, closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He hadn't slept in two full days, now. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to really rest until he'd be back home.

His phone rang yet again while a child began to kick his seat from behind.

"Mr. Hunt, it's Dr. Gibs again. I wonder if you've already received my earlier message? Please, call back as soon as possible."

After the flight Ethan was stuck in a uncomfortably loud crowd until he finally got his bag. Afterwards he made his way out of the building as quickly as he could and jumped into the first taxi he saw. "Rough day?" the driver suggested with refreshingly genuine sympathy.

Ethan felt like smiling. Almost. "No. Rough week."

Ethan never remembered to switch his phone back on after the flight. So he wasn't able to pick up as it began to ring yet again. Nor did he receive the message.

"Mr. Hunt, this is Dr. Gibs. My shift is almost over, but please call this number as soon as you hear this message."

Ethan was an expert on impossible missions. But even he had his limits. As soon as he made it home he staggered to his bed, flopped down, closed his eyes and fell asleep. He had no dreams, good or bad.

The fourth call went to his answering machine as well. This time the speaker was a different one but there was no missing the urgency. "Mr. Hunt, this is Dr. Eric Alvarez. My colleague asked me to continue to try and reach you. Please, contact us as soon as possible."

Ethan woke up to the first rays of the morning sun. Aching and still in a foul mood but at least rested. While taking a much-needed shower to wash away sweat, dust and other reminders of the mission he finally remembered his phone.

Right after opening the device Ethan noticed the messages to his answering machine. He never had the time to listen to them before the phone began to ring again. He frowned, unable to recognize the number. "Hunt."

"Ethan Hunt?" The stranger went on at his grunt of confirmation. "This is Dr. Alvarez. I take it you haven't received the earlier messages?"

Ethan tensed up to a point that made his injuries hurt. "I didn't. I've been… traveling." True enough. His eyebrows furrowed further. "What is it?"

The doctor sighed. "I'm… sorry, to have to inform you on this. But… Someone who had you listed as their emergency contact was admitted yesterday. William Brandt."

Ethan felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water on him. His fist balled so tightly that nails almost dug through skin, and a wand squeezed itself around his chest. This was why he tried to avoid bonding with people. This was why… When he forced himself to speak he barely recognized his voice. "What happened?"

Slowly – and very painfully – waking up, Will remembered driving his motorcycle. And rain. There was agonizingly loud noise. A white, hot surge on pain. Then a flash of light. And… Nothing.

Did he… get into an accident…?

Yes, definitely. There was a horribly infuriating beeping sound that seemed to make his already aching skull split in two. And a sterile reek that he could've sworn was seeping through his skin.

A groan slipped past Will's lips as faint pieces of memory attempted to arrange themselves, like razor sharp pieces of a puzzle.

"Brandt?" Ethan's voice caught him so off guard that he shivered. "Do you need more pain medication?"

Will shook his head the best as he could. So yeah, he was in pain. But he didn't want his head to become any fuzzier than it already was. With a considerable amount of effort he managed to crack his eyes halfway open. At first the bright, artificial lights made him sure that his skull would explode. But slowly yet surely his line of vision cleared enough to reveal Ethan's face. His friend's emotions were as perfectly hidden as always, if one didn't notice the tension and the look in those eyes.

Will winced. "I look that bad, huh?" he rasped barely comprehensibly. Which was when his head took in the bruises on his friend's face, and he winced again, gesturing towards them. "We match."

Ethan arched an unimpressed eyebrow, relaxing marginally. "Just wait until I get you a mirror." The man then frowned. "How are you feeling?"

Ethan Hunt, actually… concerned? It was so surreal that Will wanted to giggle, and instantly blamed the urge on pain medication. "Fine, fine. Just… Need to sit. My back… 's killing me", he mumbled instead, and began to struggle to a sitting position with the bravery and determination of a soldier. Until he realized something that made him freeze entirely.

"Will?" Ethan asked, for once letting worry slip into his tone, but Will didn't hear.

He pressed his leg with his fingers, then with his palm. Then tighter, his throat tightening while panic and despair began to rise. His hand trembled as he continued his attempts but the result was the same each time.

Will couldn't feel his legs, couldn't feel anything below his waistline.

TBC

A/N: Oh dear… So, now what? Poor Will! (winces)

SO, folks… Would you like to read some more of this? Or is this total trash-material? PLEASE, do let me know! I'd LOVE to hear from you!

Awkay, it's way past my bedtime. (smirks) Who knows, maybe I'll see ya guys again soon! In any case, THANK YOU so much for reading!

Take care!