Chapter 6

Three days later. Hospital. 7th Floor, Room 4.1

They had spent hours in this room. Sleeping. Talking. Waiting.

It had been three days since they had arrested the two police officers. A second team had almost instantly taken over the 'care' for the two men, since even the Secretary had come to realize it might be a bit optimistic to keep Ethan's team in charge of safekeeping the dirty cops until they could be prosecuted. The team had eventually agreed. But only after the Secretary had reminded them that it would give them the chance to return to the hospital and stay with Ethan. That had been three days ago. And they hadn't left since.

Ethan had pulled through the first 24 hours. He also had pulled through the second surgery, during which the doctors were able to repair the damage to his lungs and also finally stitch up the wound in his side. Two hours after the surgery, Ethan was settled from the main ICU back to a more private room. That's when the team had moved in.

The doctors hadn't been entirely happy with how Brandt, Jane and Benji had practically set up camp around Ethan's bed. But once they saw that the team made it a point not to be in anyone's way, and that their patient actually seemed to be resting easier whenever one or all of the three agents were around, the doctors finally gave them their blessing. Not that the doctors had any illusions that the team would have left if given the order to leave. But the way it was now, it simply worked better for everyone around.

On the second day, late in the afternoon, the doctors had proceeded to slowly start bringing Ethan out of the coma. After that, as the doctors told them, all they could do was wait. The only one who knew if, or when Ethan would wake up again – was Ethan. And so far he hadn't. It wasn't entirely unusual, the doctors explained, and so far, they attributed it to the severe trauma Ethan had suffered.

Now, on this third day of waiting, it was shortly before 5am, with the sun just getting up over the horizon outside. Benji and Jane were still restlessly sleeping in the lounging chairs the nurses had been kind enough to set up for them in Ethan's room. It had been Brandt's turn to keep watch. A few minutes ago, however, he had shortly stepped outside the room to answer a call from the Secretary, as he expected an update on their two cops.

The Secretary had been rather forthcoming.

Courtesy of a few pointed questions brought up by the IMF's finest interrogations specialists, the cops had eventually spilled everything from their guts to their mama's favorite cooking recipes. They had been doing these stunts for months. And until three days ago, no one had ever gotten hurt. Looking at the incident from that angle, it was actually hard to say who was more unfortunate – Ethan for having gotten shot, or the two officers for having chosen Ethan to be their victim.

The IMF had been put in charge of the prosecution and would have a hand in deciding what would happen to the two officers. Even if no more victims were to come forward - and computer specialists were already checking every one of the officer's files for possible names of more victims - the minimal expected sentence was that the two men would never get out of jail again.

An attempt to kill one of their agents was always something the IMF didn't look too kindly on, no matter which day of the week it happened. But to try and kill one of their best, namely one Ethan Hunt, well… that kind of got you the Sunday Special treatment. Which meant that the Secretary had made it a point to put in an extra word somewhere behind the scenes.

And word on the street was this: Should any of the two men ever get out of jail again, either by parole, good behavior or even a computer fluke, they would not be dying of old age outside. Their best chance was to go to jail and stay there for the rest of their miserable lives, with all the comforts that being a cop in jail brought with it. The alternative was to die courtesy of an IMF orchestrated car accident. Or something equally painful.

You didn't mess with the IMF when it came to the well-being of one Ethan Hunt.

Brandt was glad to hear it.

Because if IMF hadn't taken care of this, he would have made sure Ethan's team would have stepped up to cover the bill.

As Brandt eventually stepped back into Ethan's room, he glanced at Benji and Jane, to make sure he hadn't disturbed them when he came back inside. They were both still asleep in their chairs. Then he looked over at Ethan, to make sure that everything was okay on that end as well.

And he found two eyes looking right back at him.

Brandt blinked.

Still, the image he saw remained the same.

Ethan was awake. Although, as it appeared, he was simply watching Brandt from where he laid on the bed.

For a moment, neither of them moved, only Ethan's eyes were tracking across Brandt's face, down across the floor back to his bed and to the IV lines in his own arms. Ethan was clearly trying to put his memory back together, but judging by the continuously lost expression on his face, he was mostly coming up blank. It was to be expected after what he had been through.

Ethan, for his part, really was having a hard time putting all the elements he was seeing together to form one big picture. He saw Brandt standing to his left. The bed that he found himself in, however, was a mystery. It looked like a hospital bed if those cables and lines were anything to go by. And the only thing he could remember was …wait... had he been… shot?

Ethan soon realized that he must have actually whispered out the last word, because Brandt nodded softly, as he slowly approached Ethan's bed.

"Yeah, you were."

Brandt's words, albeit also barely spoken above a whisper, were just audible enough for Jane to pick up on the fact, that someone was apparently talking with someone in the room. Benji, being the sound sleeper that he was, kept snoring softly.

Just as Jane's eyes began to widen, as she, too, saw that Ethan was awake, Brandt went on with a smile, speaking calmly so as to not overtax Ethan.

"But we got them."

Ah. That answered that question.

Now, just exactly who shot me?

Brandt could practically see the question in Ethan's eyes.

And you didn't need to be a former analyst to know that this question was only one of many more to come, if Ethan began to put his mind to it. So they needed to put a lid on it right away, because right now, Ethan should not be asking questions, he should be resting.

The quick, pointed look Jane got from Brandt was all it took for her to immediately come to Brandt's aid. Straightening in her own chair right next to the bed, she calmly addressed Ethan from his right side:

"Don't worry about it Ethan. We got it taken care of. You just make sure you get back on your feet. We're on stand-down until you get back."

At that Ethan seemed to realize that Brandt wasn't the only one in the room with him. As Ethan slowly moved his head to the right, where Jane's voice had come from, he saw that there were actually two more people in the room with him - Jane AND Benji - and they were right on the other side of his bed. How he had missed them so far, he didn't know. It probably had something to do with the stuff that was going through that IV into his arm. It was making him…fuzzy….

In fact, he felt like he was already going back under, with sleep begging him to close his eyes again. He made a valid effort to keep his eyes open a little longer, because as he took in the sight of Jane and Benji, the latter was also waking up just now. Ethan did not want to miss the moment when his friend realized that this time around, out of all of them, it was actually Benji who woke up last.

Ethan's expectations were not disappointed. As soon as the drowsy Benji happened to glance past Jane towards Ethan's bed, their resident computer specialist almost jumped right off his chair in his hurry to straighten up as he realized that Ethan was awake. Even Ethan couldn't help a soft chuckle at the sight, although it hurt, really hurt his side.

As soon as he had the pain under control again, Ethan looked around himself once more. He was still in the dark about what had actually happened, but getting the feeling that his team obviously had everything well in hand, he accepted that he wouldn't have to think about things right now. So, with a slow nod and a careful sigh, Ethan slowly relaxed a little. And he could already feel his eyes starting to close again.

As Brandt saw the exhaustion creep up on Ethan faster than even Ethan cared to admit, Brandt decided to help things along with a calming smile:

"Jane is right, we got this. You just rest. And once you're feeling better we'll just have another team night to make up for the one you missed." Brandt chuckled softly.

Ethan didn't know what Brandt was referring to, but seeing how Brandt seemed to have all angles covered, Ethan decided his best option was to simply agree. His team had his back.

"-kay.." Ethan whispered as his head slowly sank back into the pillow, his voice already heavy with sleep.

Then, as if he had one last thought he realized he needed to share with them before he allowed sleep to pull him under again, Ethan slightly raised his right wrist off the bed, beckoning Jane to move yet a little closer from where she was already sitting right next to his bedside.

Jane was quick to understand that there was something else Ethan obviously wanted to say to them, but for which he didn't have the energy to voice it out loud anymore. So Jane leaned even closer, until her ear was near Ethan's lips and she could actually hear his voice.

She listened closely as he whispered several words into her ear, before he visibly relaxed, and his head slowly rolled to one side as he fell asleep once more.

At first, Jane didn't move. Then a slow smile crept onto her face.

Brandt and Benji couldn't help but notice it.

"So, what did he say?" Brandt finally couldn't keep his curiosity to himself any longer.

Benji looked like he, too, would have paid big money for an answer to that question.

Jane took her time, as she slowly straightened up on her seat, and then, only then did she look up to address both Benji and Brandt with a happy smirk:

"He wants to know if we kept any of Benji's cookies for him."

The only sounds that followed were a mild groan from Benji, and a hearty laugh from Brandt and Jane.

Now they knew that their patient was going to be alright.

The End

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