Mission: Impossible Operation Redemption

Hurt

     After tweaking his mess until it couldn't possibly be tweaked any longer, Benji printed out enough papers for everyone to have a copy. He stared at the papers and suddenly a wave of anxiety crashed over him. He didn't know why, but the thought of telling his friends what happened filled him with fear. Taking a deep breath in, he arranged the papers into a stack and stood up. He couldn't let his emotions get in the way of a case. Especially one this important. He walked to Ethan's study, which was now being used as the team's office. He was greeted by the surprised stares of his friends.  The feeling of their eyes boring into him made him feel like crawling into a hole.  He swallowed hard, not knowing why his heart beat so rapidly. 

     "Benji! You finally finished with that story of yours?" Ethan smiled at his teammate and gestured towards the empty chair next to him. "Have a seat!" Ethan must have sensed his anxiety and was trying to ease his nerves. Otherwise, he wouldn't have set aside his usual stone-faced demeanor for this friendlier one.  Unfortunately, it wasn't helping.

     Benji simply nodded and took the seat. "I wrote it out as best I could, which helped me, y'know, solidify things in my mind, I guess. Ask me any questions you have," he said, setting the papers on the table in front of him.

All three took papers and began to read. Benji watched them as their eyes darted across the pages. His heart was racing and his palms began to sweat. Why are you so nervous? They're your friends, Benji! He fidgeted in his seat, staring hard at the middle of the table. Any second now. Any second.

Ilsa broke the painful silence. "Benji...are you sure you're alright? I mean, after everything here....and you're sure this all really happened?"

   Benji sighed. At least the silence was finally over. "Every bit of it," he said, his voice coming out less shakily than he thought it would.  Maybe this would get better after all.

     William cleared his throat. "Well, Benji, this is a nice paper, but I'd really like to hear what you think about this now. Who was this other man? And Derik, what was he like?"

Ah, just like Brandt. Always asking the hard questions. "The, um, other guy seemed to be working for Derik," Benji started. "He was obviously scared of him. He had a Russian accent, I think, and he was a big guy, and I mean a big guy. Must've been 6' 5" or something. As for Derik, well, not so much. He was maybe my height, maybe a little shorter, he had dark hair, and oddly piercing eyes. Don't know why that stands out, but it does." Benji added, getting faster as he continued. "Makes me shiver just thinking about it." He scratched the back of his head. "It was terrible. They did give me food on the first day, but other than that it was absolutely dreadful. No food from that point on, barely any sleep, and they kept me locked up on a bed the whole time...I still have raw spots on my wrists! See?!" Benji pushed up his sleeves to show the team how the handcuffs had dug into his wrists, then continued frantically. "And then the questions. Where's the IMF? What do you know about the syndicate? Blah, blah, blah...oh, I didn't answer them, of course!" Benji exclaimed, pausing his rant temporarily after he saw the shocked faces of his friends. Okay, calm down Benji, he thought. Be rational. He took a deep breath. "I don't think he knows much about us. He obviously knows where we are since he dropped me off here, but for some reason he's not making his move yet....I wonder why...." His sentenced stopped short as his train of thought took him over.

     "Benji...did he hurt you?" Ethan asked tentatively.

     "What?" Benji looked up sharply, being pulled out of his thoughts.

     "Are you hurt?" Ethan repeated, more firmly this time.

     "Oh! Well, um...." Benji looked down. What made him think that? He didn't know, did he? His heart was pounding. It's not that bad, is it? He cleared his throat. "No, um, not really...just..."

     "What is it, Benji?" Ethan persisted.  He knows.  How does he know?

     Benji opened his mouth, about to protest, but then changed his mind.  He sighed.  "I guess I'll have to show you, won't I..." He muttered as he stood up, then took off his shirt and turned his back to Ethan. Another wave of nauseating nervousness. Why did he feel like this? He was hurt, and he didn't want his friends to know. It didn't make sense. His mind didn't make sense. He turned back around to face them. "He, um, had a whip," he tried to speak clearly, but the words came out in a quiet squeak.

     All three of them stared at him in shock. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Ethan asked him, furrowing his brow. "We could've helped you right away!"

     "I-I don't know," Benji stammered. "I guess I j-just didn't think it was very bad," he said, pulling his shirt back over his head. That was a lie; but even Benji didn't know the truth. Why had he not told them?

     "Well, it is," Ethan said definitively. "I don't think we could risk going to the hospital with Derik out there and all, but I'll get the first aid kit and see what I can do."