Grace Potential

Hurricane

Adam sat, in the waiting room of Oak Wood Therapy, twiddling his thumbs. He wanted a smoke, his head throbbed, and he felt out of it. He'd been losing sleep, and with the constant travelling and jobs, he couldn't find the time to sleep.

Six months. It had been six months since Panchea. Since that day, the agent felt like he'd been drifting through life, without any purpose, without focus.

Five months. It had been five months since Megan was arrested. Police investigations found serious breaches in information, on Sarif employees, and a project file, untitled, which detailed a 'back-up plan', just in case her and her team failed in creating a quote on quote 'cure', so augmented people would no longer have to take Neuropozene. Adam threw up into the bin by his desk, and Frank's face paled, when another file was opened.

Pictures of severely ill augmented patients, starved of both food, and Neuropozene, hooked up to machines. Different coloured liquids were in IV bags. Tubes of the liquids flowed down, and into these patients. Gaunt and drawn faces screamed out at the agent, who couldn't bring himself to look away, despite nausea, bubbling in his gut. Panchea made him realise just how much of a double-edged sword the anti-augment rejection drug was.

Take too much? End up a gibbering, shaking mess, convulsing their way into oblivion.

Don't take enough, and agony consumed their bodies. It wracked their very being, made them submissive, and vulnerable. They begged for death, pleaded, to an unknown force, that Adam could not see, to kill them. End their misery.

They even begged Adam to murder them. Begged. Screeching echoed throughout the hallways, his C.A.S.I.E aug registered pain, their anguish hurt him physically. He covered his ears, and grit his teeth, the only way he could get through the hellhole of a facility.

Then, he found Megan, and her team. His girlfriend's eyes widened, and she gasped. Adam was there, right there, in front of her. She witnessed him die, six months prior. So many bullets pierced his body, and there was nothing she, or anyone else could do to stop it.

So how was he there?

She knew he'd changed, he'd been augmented, that she could see. But, when he withdrew his shades, she saw his eyes, and realised just how different he was. They didn't have that warmth anymore, that mix of blue and grey, that always seemed to glimmer. Now, replaced with a yellowish tinged green, that radiated nothing. That saddened her.

When she tried to explain what she'd done, using his DNA, and how it would save hundreds of thousands of people, Adam couldn't comprehend it. His knee-jerk reaction was to shout at her, then, when she tried to touch him, he flinched. Numbness tingled throughout this foreign, metal body.

If he still didn't understand, or accept his new body, than why should he accept what Megan did? She'd changed too, in those six months, it seemed.

After he'd arrived back, at Sarif Industries, Megan rushed to speak with him, but Frank held her back. He'd heard what she said, and whilst muffled, he heard enough, to know that Jensen was angry, really angry. So, the tech guy refused to let go of her, despite her protests.

And so, Adam slipped out of his haze, and sighed, slicking back some of his flyaway hair.

Fuck this.

He stood, straightened his jacket, and walked out of the building.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you, Jensen".

Adam jumped, and growled. "Fuck, Frank, leave it out, will you? I am sick of this".

Frank scoffed, and moved from the shadows.

"Sick of what, brooding? Moaning? Adam, it isn't just you, who went through hell and back. Unlike you, however, they don't mention it every five minutes".

Adam's patience was wearing thin. "You try having nightmares, where everyone is being slaughtered around you! If I can't help myself, how the hell am I supposed to help anyone else, hm?"

The tech adviser frowned. "I didn't know that. I know Grace, the psychologist David referred you too. She won't make you bear your soul, if that's what you think. We just want you to talk, see if you can find some closure".

Adam narrowed his eyes. "Jensen, I am not saying you will find closure. I, we, are hoping that you will. We want the old Jensen back. The one before Panchea".

The agent sighed, and held his head. "Fine. I need a".

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, but Frank snatched them away. The pair exchanged glares. "I thought you said you were going to stop smoking".

Adam huffed. "I am, after this one".

Frank laughed, and opened the packet. He passed him two cigarettes. "One for now. One for after the appointment. Which is in a minute's time".

He walked off quietly, leaving Adam to light up, and breathe a stream of smoke, in the direction of his retreating form.

When he was done, Adam stumped out the cigarette, and walked back into the practice.

"Adam? Adam Jensen?"

Adam looked up, and saw a small woman, a few feet away, with a clipboard in her hands. She looked really young, barely old enough to even have a degree in psychology.

The brunette haired woman smiled, and nodded, light brown eyes crinkling slightly. "Good afternoon Mr Jensen. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. One of my colleagues has had a baby, and so, I took on some of her appointments. Shall we?"

Adam nodded, and stood up, following the woman, into her office.

He took a deep breath, and waited outside her door.

Well, this is it.

Can I even open up?

If I can't to Megan, a woman I know...

...And am still in love with, then how am I supposed to, with a woman I don't even know?

He sighed.

Shit.