Mission: Impossible Operation Redemption

Scrambled

     Benji stood in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. He hadn't had a good chance to look at himself since he had been found by the team around a day prior. Some parts of him were the same: his light brown hair; the scruffy beard that he'd been trying to grow out for the longest time now. Other parts, however, looked so different they could've been switched with someone else's body. His bare torso was dangerously thin, and his face had retained a somewhat gaunt look from the lack of food and sleep he had had.  The main difference, however, wasn't something the others had seen yet.  Benji twisted to look at his back in the mirror.  A web of interlacing gashes covered it, making him wince at the sight.  He had long stopped the bleeding, but it was hard to ignore the stinging pain that still woke him up at night.  The team had already been worried about him for long enough, so he hadn't told them about it.  Besides, it would have to heal itself eventually, right?

     He walked out of the bathroom, threw on the loosest shirt he could find and sat on the bed with a sigh.  Whenever he had started to remember anything that had happened over the last week, it kept fading from his mind like a dream.  This time, though, he was determined to keep something in his grasp.  Grabbing a notebook and pen from a nightstand next to the bed, he started to write down anything he could remember, hoping that when he was done, he could decipher it into something somebody else would understand.

     Scribbling furiously, Benji racked his brain for anything that could help his team. Scattered thoughts of basements, security cameras and handcuffs lingered in his mind as he tried to make sense of it all. After he was finished, he carried the notebook into the kitchen with him, hoping to grab something to eat before dealing with the mess he had just written.

     As Benji set the notebook down on the granite counter, he saw Ilsa enter the room.   If he hadn't have known better, he would've guessed she was going out somewhere, but Ethan had forbid anyone from leaving the apartment a day prior.  "Hey Benji, how are you feeling?" She asked, putting her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket.

     "I'm doing alright, just getting a quick snack," Benji replied, holding up the apple he had discovered in the fridge.

     Ilsa nodded and walked over to counter where Benji's notebook sat. "What's this?" She asked curiously, reaching for the small book.

     "Well, er, nothing much, really," he began.  A part of him twisted uncomfortably when he thought of Ilsa reading what the notebook contained. "I just wrote down some things, I'm not sure if it makes any sense," he shrugged.

     "What kind of things?" Ilsa inquired.

     "Just...things. Things I could remember from when I was, you know, gone."  Benji shifted his weight from one leg to another. He felt his heart start to beat harder in his chest. Why did he feel like this?

     He saw Ilsa's eyes widen. "Can I read it?  At this point, we need as much information as we can get."

     "I suppose you could, i-if you want, but I was going to see if I could, um, work on it a little more before, uh, showing it to the rest of the team," Benji said, tightening his grip on the apple he still held.  Please, don't read it, he thought.

     "Oh," Ilsa said, letting the book fall back down onto the counter.  "I understand. Just...tell us when you're done, okay?"

     "S-sure!"  He stuttered.  "I will."

     After Ilsa left with a quick smile, Benji plopped down on the grey couch in the center of the living room. Taking a bite out of his apple, he opened up his notebook to see what he had written. He scanned the pages briefly before realizing how much he had written.  Close to 10 of the pages were filled with his familiar scrawl.  How long had he been writing?  He flipped to the beginning of the book and began to read through it.  With every sentence, he remembered more and more of what had happened the week he had been gone.

     Benji had just closed the notebook when he heard someone walk into the room. He looked up. "Oh, hi, Ethan," he greeted his friend, who was standing on the other side of the couch.

     "Hey, Benji. Ilsa told me you wrote down what happened, what's that about?" Ethan leaned against the back of the couch, glancing at the notebook Benji was holding.

     "Yeah, I did. I'm just, well, going over it, really, before I show it to everyone," Benji replied.  "It won't be long, trust me," he added for Ethan's sale.

     Ethan gave him a sympathetic smile.  "Take your time," he said.  "But when you're done, bring it to us, because we really need that information," he said, before turning back from the couch and walking down the hall towards the study.  "I'll see you later, Benji,"  He called.

"See you!" Benji called back.  He stood up and sighed. It was time to do some editing.