Author's Note:

"What's in the water" and "What a Tangled Web" are still on hold, but I managed to squeeze in a little one-shot that came to me this morning. It's pretty long, but I hope you don't mind. And if you like the story, please leave some feedback, it's always appreciated. :o)

Summary:

We all know that Ethan is an avid climber, right? Hanging off the side of a cliff is his idea of fun. But what if the situation isn't of his own choosing? What if things go completely wrong during a meeting with an informant, and in an unsuspecting moment, Ethan goes over the edge, unplanned and without a rope?

I Won't Let You Fall

"Ethan, whatever you do, DON'T move!"

Brandt's call was as close to panic as he had ever gotten in his life. And that was saying something.

It had all happened so fast. One minute they were standing on a plateau overlooking the valley in which the house of their latest mission target was located, and Ethan was just talking with their informant to get more clues about the layout of the place – and the next second all hell broke loose. A shot – obviously fired by a sniper from a long way off - had suddenly gone straight through their informant's throat, before the momentum of the bullet threw the man against Ethan. The physical impact of the dead man falling against him had been hard enough to make Ethan lose his footing for a second.

One precious second.

In that second, Ethan was both saved and condemned. His slightly out of balance, half-stumbled step backwards saved Ethan from being instantly killed by the second bullet fired by the sniper. But the step back also took Ethan close enough to the edge that he actually went over it when that second bullet missed his heart and caught him in the right shoulder instead.

That was the moment that Brandt yelled. Right before he saw Ethan disappear over the edge of the cliff. But Brandt didn't have time to see much else.

As the threat from the sniper was still imminent, Brandt instinctively dove behind the cover of Ethan's car, which had been parked just a few feet away from where he stood. Crouching behind the rear-tire, Brandt frantically tried to glance around the edge of the trunk to perhaps spot the location of the sniper. But he couldn't see him.

What Brandt's darting eyes could see from his spot behind the car, however, was the dead body of their informant lying just a few feet away from him. And right behind the dead informant, there was the edge of the cliff.

And at the edge…there was no sign of Ethan anywhere.

It wasn't that Brandt didn't know what that meant. Hell, he had seen Ethan go over the edge. There was no way anybody could survive a drop like that. Not even Ethan Hunt.

Brandt knew that. But some part of him, that tiny flicker of hope inside Brandt's chest, the part that refused to believe that Ethan could do something as banal as actually die from a fall, that part of Brandt kept throwing desperate glances towards the edge, hoping against hope for some kind of miracle.

Moments later, Brandt could hear a car in the distance, its tires angrily biting into the dirt road, as someone took off apparently in a hurry. With another careful glance around the edge of the trunk, Brandt saw a glimpse of a pickup – the sniper's car – take off about one mile down the hill, leaving in a cloud of dust. The guy had obviously done what he had come for and was now trying to hightail it out of here.

Angrily, Brandt leaped up from behind his cover and, although he knew it was an exercise in futility, he fired off half of his magazine after the car in the distance. He would have probably even emptied his entire magazine after the sniper, if the guy's car hadn't disappeared from sight after another bend in the hillside road.

That was when silence fell.

As soon as Brandt's gun stopped firing, the sudden absence of its violent reverberation was almost painful. All that was left was the sound of the hill. The wind twirling the dust near his feet. And the dead informant lying next to Ethan's car.

For a moment, standing with his lowered gun in his hand and breathing hard, Brandt simply stared at the edge of the cliff. In shock. And disbelief.

Uncomprehending.

Yet, knowing.

He did not want to move forward. He knew he would see Ethan's dead body at the bottom of the cliff. The moment was surreal to Brandt. But eventually he did move. One step. One more. Until he reached the edge. And then he looked down.

And he saw Ethan.

Unconscious.

Maybe even dead.

Hanging motionlessly on the side of the cliff a mere ten feet beneath the steep edge. But with lots of empty space beneath him.

The only thing keeping Ethan in place was a protruding outcrop of stone to which the torn sleeve of his jacket had gotten stuck, leaving Ethan hanging painfully from his outstretched arm that was caught in the sleeve. One move, one wrong twist of his wrist, and the jacket would come off its meagre hold. The mere sight of it made Brandt feel sick to his stomach.

But he didn't have time for that.

Assuming that Ethan was still alive - and Brandt refused to assume anything other than that until he had irrefutable proof to the contrary - there was the chance that Ethan could come to any second now. And if he came to, he was likely to move, no matter how slightly. In Ethan's position, the consequences would be deadly. The cliff was deep enough that it was giving Brandt vertigo just from looking down into the abyss.

Brandt knew he had to act. And quickly.

Forcing his sense of vertigo down into a corner of his mind where it wouldn't bother him for the time being, Brandt instantly dropped to his stomach, trying to reach down to Ethan. He stretched as far as he could, praying that Ethan wouldn't move before he could grasp Ethan's hand or maybe even the whole arm – but it was no good. Brandt couldn't reach down far enough.

Desperation setting in, Brandt cursed harshly.

He tried to think, go at this rationally, come up with a solution. He was an analyst, for Christ's sake, there had to be some plan he could come up with!

'Alright, think, Brandt, THINK!' Brandt told himself.

As he looked down at the still unconscious form of Ethan hanging out of reach ten feet beneath him, Brandt knew one thing for sure: If Ethan woke up without knowing where he was, it would end in disaster.

'I have to tell him somehow,' Brandt quickly concluded.

Okay. So much for the theoretical analysis. But how do you make an unconscious man listen to you?

Brandt chose the most fool-proof way he could think of. He just started talking and prayed to God that he was getting through somehow.

"Ethan, whatever you do, DON'T move!" Brandt called out to Ethan, "I know you are in there somewhere, and you are probably hearing me on some level, so if you ever listened to anything I told you, I want you to listen to me now. You hear me? Do not move. That is an order, Ethan, you hear me? Do. Not. Move. I order you to stay perfectly still. Do not move a muscle, Ethan."

Brandt kept talking, hoping to get through to Ethan on a subconscious level.

He knew that the training of IMF field agents was pretty extraordinary. The first thing the instructors did was to ingrain in you the ability to perceive threats even while you were asleep. If someone came at you in your sleep with a knife, you would learn to come up swinging, taking out the knife first, and the person second – before you even opened your eyes.

To a common field agent, that instinctive conditioning to move against a threat soon became as natural as breathing.

Only, in this case, the exact opposite was needed.

Fortunately, Brandt knew that Ethan Hunt was a man with training far beyond that of a common agent. With any luck, Brandt could reach Ethan's subconscious conditioning, and have him react not by moving, but by staying perfectly still. It was a long shot, but Brandt knew it was their only chance.

So Brandt kept at it, his upper body half-hanging over the edge of the cliff, completely disregarding the fact that the blood was already flowing into his head.

"Ethan, you're on the side of a cliff. Whatever you do, DON'T MOVE!"

Brandt glanced behind himself for a moment, to check that the sniper hadn't come back in the meantime. But they were clear. So he quickly looked back down.

And that was when he thought he saw Ethan's eyes opening.

'Oh shit… please let him have heard me…,' Brandt prayed, calling out even more urgently than before:

"Ethan, DO NOT MOVE! You will fall if you move, so stay perfectly still!"

Brandt couldn't see if Ethan even heard him.

But he was willing to take the fact that Ethan had not moved yet as a good sign. It was either that, or Brandt figured he had simply imagined Ethan's eyes opening and the man was still unconscious.

But then, suddenly, a dazed whisper came up from below.

"W-here…"

So Ethan was awake. If not all there, yet.

Quickly grasping what Ethan was asking, Brandt made it a point to give Ethan all the important information before Ethan could get agitated, or maybe even get the idea that he might want to move his head to look around some. Curiosity wasn't only dangerous to cats.

"You're hanging on the side of a cliff, about ten feet below the edge," Brandt quickly explained, "You fell, but you're stuck on your jacket sleeve to a small ledge. I'm above you on the edge of the cliff, but I can't reach down to you."

He waited for Ethan to take in the words. In fact, as he watched Ethan's eyes sluggishly try to focus, Brandt could practically see Ethan become aware of his situation. With that increased awareness, however, also came the risk that Ethan might want to try and do something about his situation. So Brandt quickly added in a tone of pleading urgency:

"Whatever you feel like doing, Ethan, you can't move. I don't even know how you're still hanging where you are, and if you try to help in any way, it could make things worse."

A pause, then a shaky breath from below.

"…-kay."

It didn't sound too enthusiastic, but that was to be expected.

Only belatedly did Brandt realize Ethan's apparent submissiveness wasn't merely due to his precarious position. There was another reason why Ethan wasn't putting up a word of protest. It was the damage the bullet had done.

While his left arm was painfully stretched upward, Ethan's right shoulder was still heavily bleeding. His entire right arm was hanging motionlessly at his side. Brandt could see that there was a large stain of red already saturating Ethan's right jacket sleeve, from where the blood then slowly dripped on downward into the open space beneath him.

'He's losing blood fast,' Brandt realized, 'that's why he's so out of it.'

If he didn't get Ethan some help soon, he wouldn't have to worry about Ethan falling. Ethan would simply bleed to death.

Once again, Brandt tried to think. There had to be something he could do.

Ethan couldn't move, so he couldn't get up by himself. And from up here, Brandt couldn't help Ethan, either.

There was only one solution.

'I have to get down there.'

Brandt glanced behind himself once more, as an idea came to him. Then he quickly called down to Ethan again:

"Ethan, try to stay as still as possible. I think I have an idea. Just hang on a second- …," Brandt called out, but instantly grimaced as he realized the unintended pun he'd made, '…err….sorry, I mean… I'll be right back."

Quickly Brandt scambled to his feet and hurried away from the edge over to the trunk of Ethan's car. As Brandt opened the trunk, his legs almost went weak with relief as he spotted what he was looking for.

'Count on Ethan to never leave home without one of these,' Brandt breathed out a sigh, as he grabbed the long coil of rope from the trunk. Then he instantly ran around to the front of the vehicle. With precise moves, he fixed the one end of the rope to the front of the chassis, making sure that it was securely tied and wouldn't give an inch. Then he grabbed the rest of the coil and hurried back to the edge.

Checking to see that Ethan was still hanging on, both literally and figuratively, Brandt then estimated the distance to Ethan before he knotted a part of the rope in a way that it could act as a harness of sorts. He slipped his legs through the makeshift harness, so he would have a relatively steady hold in the rope, one that would keep his hands free if needed. Throwing the remaining length of the rope over his shoulder, so he could later attach it to Ethan to secure him as well, Brand then stepped up to the edge. Carefully.

He wasn't Ethan.

'Hell, Ethan could probably do this blindfolded, with one arm behind his back,' Brandt thought darkly.

And that's when something else occurred to him.

Brandt knew enough about climbing to know he could get down there with the rope – but if he wanted to get Ethan up the side of the cliff, he realized he couldn't do it alone. An experienced climber probably knew a trick or two that would get two people up a cliff with only one of them actually doing some climbing. But Brandt was no experienced climber. He didn't know any of those tricks.

Ethan would have to climb.

Brandt could only secure Ethan with the rope, so he wouldn't fall.

In regard to his earlier careless analogy, Brandt now saw where his joke suddenly became painful reality.

Sure, Ethan wasn't blindfolded. But he was dazed, bleeding and probably going into shock already. And while Ethan didn't have one arm bound behind his back, even Brandt could see that Ethan's shot shoulder would be no good in a climb. So Ethan was effectively down to one arm.

'Me and my big mouth,' Brandt cursed inwardly, as he realized what that meant for the climb Ethan would have to accomplish. But there was nothing Brandt could do about that now. He could only help Ethan. And help him he would.

As Brandt stood now at the very edge, he carefully called down to Ethan, so he wouldn't scare him accidentally:

"Ethan, I'm gonna throw a rope over the edge. Do NOT try to grab it. Just stay where you are. I'm coming down to you, and then we'll take it step by step, you hear me?"

Once again, it took a moment before Ethan answered, and this time the pause seemed even longer than before. Brandt tried not to take it as a sign that Ethan was getting weaker.

"Take it… easy…," Ethan's slow mumble echoed up to Brandt.

"Hey, now, a little more confidence in my skills, please," Brandt tried to reply lightly, to cover his own fear as he slowly stepped over the edge, "I'd like to think that at least something has rubbed off on me from watching you do all that climbing all the time."

Brandt couldn't tell if the soft chuckle he heard in reply was only an imagination in his own mind, or if it had actually been Ethan. But it made no difference now. Slowly, Brandt began lowering himself down, his feet against the side of the cliff, his face to the wall, as he went down further, step by step, his hands only ever leaving the rope to grab the next inch of rope on his way down.

He was so focused on this repetitive motion that he almost didn't realize how far he had gotten when he suddenly saw Ethan's form appear next to him.

And up close, Ethan's precarious hold looked even worse.

Ethan's jacket sleeve was torn in such a way that the arm of his jacket had gotten caught around a sharp outcrop of stone in the wall. What little he could see of Ethan's arm through the torn jacket sleeve was covered with bleeding lacerations. The side of his forearm must have scraped along the sharp outcrop, until his fall had been abruptly stopped. And within the cuff of the jacket, Ethan's hand was slowly starting to turn an unnaturally shade of red, from the way the taut sleeve around his wrist was cutting off the blood flow to his hand.

"Ethan?" Brandt softly called out, wanting to let Ethan know that he was there.

But Ethan didn't react. In fact, Brandt could see that Ethan's eyes were closing again.

"Hey…hey! Ethan, come on! Don't fall asleep on me now," Brandt tried to coax Ethan into opening his eyes again, "You got me down here, now the least you can do is watch me, you know? Because I swear, nobody is gonna believe me I actually went climbing down here. If I tell this to Benji and Jane, I'll need you as an eyewitness. Come on!"

Never say that threats don't work.

"Wh-ich one 'f you…? " Ethan asked with a tremble in his voice, as his eyes slowly came open again.

'Oh boy, don't tell me he's seeing double now,' Brandt frowned.

As if this wasn't complicated enough already. But he couldn't let his worry show now. Ethan needed all the help he could get. And a frightened Brandt did not fall into the category of 'help'. So Brandt got a grip on himself.

"Don't worry about it, Ethan…just as long as you keep your eyes open, okay? Let me take care of everything else, alright?"

He could see the eventual acceptance in Ethan's eyes.

"Alright, here's what we'll do. I've got the end of the rope, and I'm gonna come over to you now, so I can tie it around you. While I secure you to the rope, I'll stay slightly below you, so in case you slip, you'll fall only as far as into me. Until I get that rope on you, I want you to stay perfectly still, and don't try to help me in any way, okay? Do you understand me?"

"Y-s…."

Ethan's answer didn't sound as confident as Brandt would have liked it, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Alright, here goes."

Brandt moved just a little lower, his feet finding purchase just beneath Ethan's, until Ethan was effectively caught between Brandt and the wall. If Ethan fell off the wall now, he could theoretically not fall far. But it was a theory Brandt wasn't eager to test. So Brandt quickly grabbed the end of the rope from his shoulder and attached it to Ethan's waist and torso in a way that would hold Ethan securely, but wouldn't cut off his air or his movements.

Okay, so far so good.

Now for the tricky part. He addressed Ethan once more:

"Alright, Ethan… the rope is secure. Now, I need you to trust me, okay? I want you to slowly start moving your left leg, try and put it against the wall for support. Do not move your upper body or your arms yet."

Brandt carefully watched Ethan, ready to intervene if anything went wrong. Eventually he spotted some slight movement from Ethan.

"Yeah, that's it. That's the way to do it. Keep moving slowly. Alright. Now the right leg. And don't worry if you slip now, I'm right behind you, you won't get far," Brandt told Ethan encouragingly.

So Ethan moved his other leg, as well, to find a foothold that would hopefully support his weight. That's when it happened.

As soon as both his feet had a hold on the wall, and he tensed his legs, the tautness in his jacket sleeve was decreased just enough for the jacket to slip off the outcrop. Instinctively, Ethan tried whip up his right arm, but all he managed was an outcry at the pain he felt when he moved his right shoulder. His left hand, numb from having been caught in the cuff of his jacket for so long, scraped ineffectively along the cliff wall, desperately trying to get a hold – but then he felt his slide stop abruptly.

"I've got you."

Brandt's voice carried a confidence that Ethan didn't feel at that moment.

Slowly, carefully, Brandt rearranged his own grip on the rope once more, until he could steady Ethan's back sufficiently to allow Ethan to find his hold again. Once Ethan was secure in his position against the wall and in the rope, Brandt spoke up again:

"Okay, Ethan, don't worry about it, you're doing great." As if in direct contradiction, Brandt saw Ethan's gaze become yet a little more unfocused, but Brandt didn't let on how much that was starting to worry him. Instead he kept up his reassurance, trying to coax Ethan into doing what needed to be done.

"I know that you could probably climb this wall in your sleep or with your eyes closed on any other day. And since you said you're seeing two of me, I'm gonna take a wild guess that you are probably feeling a bit dizzy at the moment. So what I want you to do now is that I want you to close your eyes, and let me guide you, okay? You just concentrate on moving your arms and legs as best as you can, and I'll help you."

Brandt waited a moment to see if Ethan had understood. He knew he wouldn't be able to do this without Ethan's cooperation. When he saw the uncharacteristic indecision in Ethan's posture, Brandt added softly:

"You can do it, Ethan. Trust me. You won't fall."

He saw a tremor run through Ethan. For a moment, Brandt feared that Ethan would not make it. Or that perhaps he would even refuse, not wanting to accept the risk that he would be the cause for both of them to fall.

But then Ethan closed his eyes. Putting his trust in Brandt. Trusting him to guide him. And trusting him to be there if he slipped.

That show of trust alone made Brandt swear that he was NOT gonna let Ethan down. If anybody was gonna fall today, it would not be Ethan.

"Alright, let's do this," Brandt spoke up again, and then he watched as Ethan slowly, carefully began to move. At first it was only a tentative move of his right leg, but Brandt could see that Ethan was moving closer to the wall, slowly finding his balance. Once both his feet were secure against the wall, Ethan used his left arm to reach upwards.

He couldn't use his right arm at all. It was completely numb and useless. The one thing he could feel distinctly on his right side was his shoulder. It was burning like it was on fire. Climbing with only his left hand and his legs was slow going and painful work, but once he established a rhythm, Ethan began making progress.

What Ethan's mind couldn't handle at the moment, his body remembered, and his movements seemed to become more instinctive as went on. His hand intuitively began searching for crevices within his reach. Once he found one, and had good hold on it, his legs moved up to the next hold.

Still, there was no way to disguise that Ethan was far from steady. A few times, Ethan slipped. But he never fell. Brandt was always there, either with a quick grab, or a steadying hold against Ethan's back, to let him rest and catch his breath when he needed it.

Brandt also kept up a steady rhythm of encouraging words, whenever he saw Ethan falter. But whatever strength Ethan was tapping into, it was quickly running out. His movements became slower, and each time it took him longer to find a new handhold. They were now about three more feet below the edge, when Ethan seemed to stop again, and this time it wasn't to feel for a new crevice in the wall.

"Ethan?"

"Dizzy…" Ethan's voice was barely audible.

"It's okay, Ethan. We can take another break…let's stop for a moment," Brandt tried to calm Ethan. But the reassurance sounded more confident than Brandt actually felt. In fact, had Ethan been fully aware of his surroundings, he would have immediately noticed the slight tremble in Brandt's voice. And he would have caught the lie in Brandt's words.

The truth was that they didn't have the time for another break.

Brandt's own strength was nearing its limit, too, both from the climb itself and from having had to hold Ethan upright a few times. The truth was, at this point, Brandt wasn't sure if he could stop another fall from Ethan. In fact, Brandt wasn't really sure if he could hold himself against the wall much longer.

It was a damned if you do, damned if don't situation right out of the textbook. If he pushed Ethan too fast, and Ethan slipped, they would both fall. If he gave Ethan the chance to rest, and Brandt's own grip slipped during the wait, it would end just as badly for both of them.

There was no way around it: If Ethan couldn't go on, they were both doomed.

'Come on, Ethan…you have pulled miracles out of your hat before. Don't let this be the one time you give up,' Brandt thought desperately, hoping for divine intervention as he sent up another frantic prayer to whatever God had the grace to listen to him.

He didn't get divine intervention.

But he did get something that was more divine than anything else he could have thought up in that moment.

Brandt saw the rope move. The part of the rope above their heads, the part that was attached to the car. Somebody up there must have grabbed a hold of it, taking up the slack, so that the rope was once again taut – and Brandt could feel the support of the rope taking the strain off his legs, as he no longer had to hold himself to the wall by sheer power of will.

For a moment, he wondered what he'd do if it was the sniper who had come back to finish them off. But before Brandt could strain his neck to see what was happening up there, he heard the most beautiful thing.

"Benji give me a hand!"

It was Jane's voice.

And taking her words - as well as the rushed sounds of someone else running closer - as an indication, Benji was not far behind.

Brandt almost felt himself faint with renewed hope.

"You hear that Ethan?" Brandt said with a sigh of relief, pretty sure that Ethan hadn't realized yet what was happening, "I think this is our ticket out of this mess."

As if on cue, the rope began moving again, faster this time, as Benji had apparently added his strength to Jane's efforts.

Moving with the pull of the rope, Brandt used his legs to push himself upwards, and his left hand to steady himself, while he used his now free right hand to help Ethan. And it was a good thing he did. Just as he slipped his right arm around Ethan's waist to anchor him, Ethan's left hand lost its grip on the stone for good.

Had it not been for Brandt's renewed hold, and Benji's frantic grab from up top – with which he managed to catch Ethan's left arm just in time – Ethan would have slipped for real, and Brandt would not have been able to catch him this time.

With combined efforts – anchored and aided by Benji and Jane from up top – Brandt managed to push Ethan up the remaining three feet, until Benji was able to pull Ethan's body safely over the edge and onto solid ground. With Jane's help, Brandt quickly followed, as he now used both his arms to pull himself to safety.

While Brandt was still catching his breath, he could already hear the sirens of an ambulance in the distance. His best guess was that Jane or Benji must have called them. That realization brought him to the next, and even better question, which he brought up breathlessly:

"How did you even find us?" Brandt asked, very relieved but also completely dumbfounded, as he saw Jane already tending to Ethan, putting pressure on the gunshot wound in his shoulder to stem the bleeding. From what Brandt could see, Ethan was unconscious once more.

In regard to Brandt's question, it was Benji who eventually answered with a voice that still held much of the initial shock he and Jane had felt, when they had seen Ethan's car vacated at the edge of the hill.

"It was pure luck. Ethan confiscated my iPod the other day, because I was playing that one song over and over again and he was threatening to …well, anyway- Jane told me I should not be a baby and get it back. So she told me where you were, and we drove here…"

Brandt actually remembered seeing an iPod lying on the backseat of Ethan's car. Ethan hadn't mentioned where it came from. So Brandt had never even given it a second thought.

But now that he thought about it, Brandt realized it indeed was Benji's. Jeez, what were the odds of something so insignificant actually saving their lives? A chain of coincidences so subtle, that it was almost too much to believe. What if Benji had not been listening to that song non-stop? What if Ethan had not been bothered by it enough to actually confiscate the offending music player? What if Jane not badgered Benji to get it back? What if Benji hadn't come along?

That was a lot of 'what if's.

Too many for Brandt to dare analyse.

So he just accepted them for what they were.

The inner workings of a good team.

You didn't have to understand it. You only had to trust in it.

"Well, thank God for your terrible taste in music…," Brandt joked with relief as he sat down heavily. He then gave Benji's shoulder a sincere pat, needing to give Benji that grateful confirmation, that if it hadn't been for him, they probably wouldn't be alive now.

"How is he?" Brandt then looked over to Jane, who had just makeshift-wrapped Ethan's shoulder with part of his shirt and was now checking Ethan's wrist.

"Well, aside from the bullet wound in his right shoulder, it looks like his left wrist is also broken," she told Brandt her findings.

Seeing Brandt's eyes widen in surprise, Jane added with a nod:

"I don't know how you two climbed up here, but he must have been in world of pain using that wrist."

Brandt actually went pale.

"I didn't know… God, I didn't even know…why didn't he tell me?"

Brandt realized now to the full extent what he had put Ethan through. But Jane was quick to put a stop to Brandt's runaway train of thought:

"It's okay. You did what you had to do, or you both would have died," Jane tried to comfort him.

Brandt eventually seemed to accept her words. But it didn't stop him from promising himself that he would apologize to Ethan as soon as their team leader was awake again.

As the ambulance finally pulled up beside them, and the EMTs got out to help Ethan, Brandt watched the proceedings like through a haze, not really getting a grasp on the fact yet, that they had survived and that help was there now.

As Jane made Brandt get up from the ground, he shakily followed her, letting her lead him to her car, so he could lean against the side of it. She could tell he was exhausted, but otherwise fine.

The EMTs soon had Ethan loaded into the back of ambulance, calling out to them that they could follow the ambulance if they wanted. Jane gave them a quick nod, letting them know they would do that. Benji was already getting behind the wheel of Ethan's car, giving Jane a signal that he would drive it over to the hospital.

Jane mirrored his gesture to let him know she'd be following right behind him with Brandt in a minute. Then Jane looked at Brandt, with a question in her eyes:

"So, uhm, you feel like sitting in the front seat or do you wanna lie down in the back?"

Brandt seemed to ponder the question for a moment. Then he tiredly reached behind himself without even looking, and unlocked the front passenger door, before he simply let himself slide down into the seat. Pulling his legs into the car, he was instantly slouched low, and obviously not willing to move another inch until they reached the hospital.

Shaking her head with a smile, Jane simply closed the door after him, before she walked around to the driver's side and got in, as well.

"Okay, then let's see if we can catch up with Ethan, or what do you say?"

Brandt, exhausted as he was, took a moment to reply. But when he did, he did so with conviction.

"I say, next time Ethan sets up a meet with an informant, I'll bring a parachute. And I'll make him wear it." Brandt laughed tiredly.

Jane couldn't help but chuckle at his statement, as well. And as Brandt reclined in his seat, she could see from the exhausted smile on his face that he, too, knew just how impossible a goal he had set for himself.

Keeping Ethan Hunt away from dangerous situations – that was like telling the earth to stop turning around the sun. It simply didn't work that way.

The only thing they could do was to be there for each other. And to rest assured in the knowledge that if either of them ever stumbled, there would always be someone right there who would say "I won't let you fall".

The End