Disclaimer: I do not own Deus Ex: Human Revolution, nor am I making any sort of profit. This is a non-profit entertainment work of fiction. Deus Ex and it's characters and scenarios are all copyright to their creators. I would also like to say, as I deem to be regulation on this site, this may later include homosexual pairings between male characters later on. Luckily for anyone against that, there isn't any of that in this chapter. But, let's be realistic here. Who isn't looking for homosexual fanfiction on this site? If you are, and to you, I say 'what creature are you?,' keep an eye on these 'Disclaimers,' and I'll tell you if there is anything you need to worry about.


They had finally managed to go back home. It felt almost humorous to be riding in a chopper with Hugh Darrow, Bill Taggart, and David Sarif. All men who have never seen completely eye to eye. Now, he was the messiah among these men, so they say, all as they discuss the next steps for mankind. The youngest of the group just watched the land and sea pass underneath him, his temple nearly pressed against the glass.

Malik was dead, because of him. All because he had to get involved in this. It wasn't for nothing, but he cared for her. She was like family to him, and he let her die. Eyes closing even behind the shades hiding them, Adam felt his heart sink a bit. He remembered those last words he heard through his Infolink.

"Son?" David extended his Augmented arm out to shake Adam's knee, looking up at him, with a weary expression. "Yeah, boss?" The younger man's glance turned to him, voice a bit grim beneath all that gravel. "We're going to be landing soon. Have you been able to get Frank on the comms?" Sarif asked, sitting back in his seat. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard from Pritchard in quite some time. "Not at all. We'll see when we get there." He nodded in response, before Taggart drew him back into conversation.

Looking down once more, he thought. Something had been wrong. He knew Pritchard too well by now. Over time, he had been losing his sharp tongue, and replacing it with something else. Was something bothering Francis? Was there something he wasn't letting on? Pausing his thoughts, he pursed his lips, trying to figure out some sort of reason.

'I...think you're on your own.'

The last thing he had heard from him. He had retorted with a cocky 'You sound like you regret saying that.' But, looking back, Francis had...sounded like he was saying his goodbyes. His eyes widened, before he felt his tear ducts burning, pushing fluid through. Salt water. It didn't go on long, it just rimmed his waterline, which was hidden well behind shades. That was Pritchard's way of saying goodbye. He didn't even think the spotter would even care if he died. This whole time it looked like he hated Adam's existence.

He came back to reality when he heard David and Bill raising their voices to one another. "No, we can't risk something like that. We need to get rid of the straitjacket, Bill." Sarif groaned, causing a chuckle from Hugh. "David, it is most glorious that we have been given this opportunity to further ourselves and the people we care for, but...We must not jump into the unknown, we must carefully and slowly step our way in." He murmured with a curt smile. "See? He agrees, Dave. We must stick with only what we know." Taggart said firmly, before he looked back to the oldest of the four, being cut off. "Now, William, I never said that. I agree with the both of you. We may push, but, we must be careful and conscious of our progress."

The guy was too charismatic for his own good. Scoffing, he looked back out the window, mood picked up a bit. But now, what was going to happen? Was he going to be a lab rat for these three? And what about Megan? How did she fit into all of this? His stomach turned and his mood dropped right back down.

She had hurt him. All those years they were together, it felt like she was just doing it to observe him scientifically behind his back. And then, taking his DNA? Using it in the lab? She was the whole reason this happened. If she hadn't taken his DNA, the Illuminati wouldn't have gotten involved at all, and Augmentation would have eventually gotten voted out. He had been gutted by one girl and lost another.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize that they were beginning to land on the helipad of Sarif Industries. They all got out, and, despite his aches and pains, he was glad to be back. Walking in after the men he rode with, he was stopped by one of his own men. "Jensen." The tall, bulky security guard chuckled, looking down at Adam.

"Ross." Adam returned, a small smirk tugging at the corners of the Manager's lips. Before he knew it, he was brought in a hug, with a firm pat to the back, earning a wince unbeknownst to the assailant. He was so sore from Panchea. "Good to have you back, Mister J." The man smiled as he pulled away, giving another pat to a metallic shoulder. "Thanks. How are the riots going outside?" The gravelly voice spoke, arms folding.

"They've calmed down a little bit. Those damn Purists. 'Soon as Taggart moves his ass out there for a speech with Darrow and Sarif, I'm sure it'll fix."

"Right," Adam nodded, trying to figure out what to do. He might as well see if there was any office work he needed to do. "Have you seen Pritchard around?" Adam asked after a moment. "No, sir. He left sometime around three in the morning yesterday. Hasn't come in yet, or called in." Ross shook his head, looking across the building at the empty Tech Lab.

"Hm. Well, I'm gonna check everything out. Be seeing you, later." Adam said softly, walking off to the Tech Lab. He was greeted by a few coworkers on the way. Stepping into Pritchard's lab, finally, he confirmed it was empty. Walking over, he touched the terminal's keyboard, and saw a radar feed, and a few minimized windows. The 3D model of the Panchea complex was still open, but fragmented, as Francis had told him over the Infolink while he was there. Clicking on two more windows, he found recorded feed and audio. He hit the playback button, and watched.

Growing quiet, he realized it was a recording of their last moments together, saved to his computer. Had Pritchard really been worried? Or was this some sort of joke? Maybe something to contribute to Picus? It was sad, actually, to listen to. Clicking on the audio recording, he heard the words shared between them. "I...I think...you're on your own." "Heh. You sound like you regret saying that, Francis." Adam realized it was on repeat. Pritchard had been listening to it over and over again. Looking down from the terminal, he saw a few crumpled tissues.

Wait. Had Pritchard been...crying? His heart felt as if it had stopped. There was more to note. The chair that Frank sat in had been laying on the floor, and a stack of papers heaved off his desk, scattered on the floor. Furrowing his brow, Adam felt like he needed to leave. Now. This was too much, too fast, all upon coming back to Detroit.

He closed the door on his way out, and made his way downstairs, to the front door. He could see Sarif, Taggart, and Hugh Darrow outside in front of a large crowd. Great. Stepping out, he heard that Taggart was giving a speech. "Boss, I need to go home." He mumbled into the older man's ear, stepping up behind him. "Sure, Son. The riots are calmed down, for now. Walk off the side to avoid any conflict. I'll contact you later. Go home, Adam." David said quietly, giving a slight smile.

Nodding, the security manager made his way to leave, trying to avoid the eyes of the Purists focused on Taggart. Luckily, he made his way out, and stepped onto the streets. The roads had been riddled with police and SWAT members, not to mention the giant robots sat inactive. Glows of reds and blues flashed on Adam as he waded past the police cars, and went down an alley to cut across to the other side of the city.

He saw a few punks sat handcuffed on the curb, a few being hauled up into a van to be arrested. One of the officers nodded to him and he returned the gesture, making his way to the Chiron Apartment Building. Stepping inside, he sighed in slight relief. People were back, and some were taking refuge from the riots, watching the Live speech being broadcasted on Picus News in the lobby. Haas was gone, and Adam felt something roll in his stomach.

Had the ex-cop been alright? He supposed as the days went on, he'd find out. Making his way to the front desk, he saw his landlady. "Jensen, you'll be happy to know that we've got a replacement mirror for you. Charlie should have installed it, by now." The sighed, eyes fixed on the computer she was working off of. "Thanks." Adam rasped, nodding and making his way to the elevator.

Soon, he was walking up to his door, punching in the code. "Welcome home, Mister Jensen. You have a visitor." The automated voice greeted him, as he walked through, and saw the security had already been turned off. A visitor, huh? Putting up his guard, he walked in and stepped slowly down the stairs, to find a figure standing in front of his window, looking at a cog to the clock he had been working on. The person must have heard him step down into the room, because the cog dropped from their fingers, and they turned to see him. It was Francis, speechless. He looked tired, and like he had been crying, confirming Adam's earlier thoughts.

"A-Adam..." The older man said softly, turning fully to see him. "Good of you to visit, Francis." Adam responded, rather sarcastically, his usual take with Pritchard. But, before he knew it, he was stumbling back, trying to gain his footing. A pressure was around his waist. Looking down, he couldn't believe his eyes. Frank was...hugging him. Tight. Burying into him. He stayed that way, almost shamelessly, and he could hear him begin to cry. Oh, god.

"You idiot-" Pritchard breathed, and Adam felt a tighten against his shoulders, from his coat. Francis was gripping at his clothes. At first, he wanted to shove him off and deck him for this sort of conduct, but tried to be open, and bring his arms around the Tech's shoulders. "I thought you were dead. I thought for sure you'd-" He mumbled, before sobbing again, hands moving around to Adam's chest, fists banging helplessly against it. It earned a strained groan from Adam, but he endured it. Hearing the sound, Pritchard shot up, and looked down. "You're hurt-" He furrowed his brows, internally cursing at himself for being inconsiderate this one time.

"I'm fine, Francis. Come here." Adam stepped back and walked to his couch, where Frank composed himself a bit, and joined him. He was embarrassed by his little emotional fit, and tried to act like his usual, assholish self. "What, Jensen?" He asked, rather rudely, sniffling a bit. Scoffing, Adam elected to ignore it. "Sarif's with Taggart and Darrow. They're calming the streets down and making an announcement." He said softly, looking down behind shades. "Why weren't you in the lab?"

Frank looked sideward, clearing his throat. "I- I couldn't help you any more, Adam. I went home for the night." He said hesitantly. Then, his CASIE flared. Pritchard currently showed a slight trace in being a Beta. A few windows popped up on his retinal display, showing signs of an increase in heart rate and breath. His intuition was showing him that Pritchard couldn't look at him, and was blinking quite a bit.

"You're lying. Ross told me that you were there until three in the morning. Don't give me that bullshit." Adam said apprehensively. "And then you didn't come in today, at all. Where were you?" His brows furrowed, fists tightening.

"I- I was at home." Francis kept his eyes away, moving a hand to brush a few stray hairs behind his ear.

"Really? You don't sound very convincing." Adam narrowed his eyes. "You're lying again."

"Look. Who are you to play detective with me, Jensen? It's none of your business." Francis grew irritated. Why did he even waste the tears on Adam? This was no better, and now they were just back to square one. Adam paused when he saw that the gauge for Alpha was filling more than the previous Beta reading. He'd better turn this around.

"Look, Francis..." Adam sat up, looking down to the fabric of the couch between them. "When you suddenly dropped contact while I was in Panchea, I got concerned. Now, you look like you're getting defensive about it, and I'm sorry to be invasive, but I really have to know." The younger man said softly, looking back up to Pritchard.

"W- I..." The techie was a bit thrown for a loop. He stared a bit in shock at Adam, before his eyes looked down, right, to left, a few times. The CASIE alerted Adam, and the conversation was clearing back into a better direction. The Beta indication was coming back. "I...really couldn't help you out anymore, Adam. The- The map was incomplete, and I couldn't capture your signal with that transmission that was being sent off... I- I couldn't do anything." Frank moved his hand back, to smooth out his ponytail, and he sniffled once, from the previous cry-session.

"That isn't it, Francis. It was something else. You could have spoken to me. I was nervous, going down there." The CASIE was warning him. He had to drop his wall in order to preserve this. "I was scared, Pritchard. I needed someone to be there for me. Why did you have to go?" His voice hardened a bit, as he felt uncomfortable, telling someone he was usually so impersonal with how he really felt. It just didn't sit right with him.

"I'm- Look- I'm sorry-" Blue eyes narrowed, and his voice broke, and he began to sob softly again, looking down from Adam out of shame and embarrassment. He was just too impacted by this whole ordeal to keep up his usual dickish face. And the CASIE saw it, too. His Beta gauge was raging. But Adam would keep this approach. "I tried to find you in your lab, and I saw the recordings you had open." Adam admitted, and Pritchard looked up, brows furrowed in anger, jaw dropped. The conversation seemed to turn south, and it warned Adam.

"I'm sorry. I was worried. How can you blame me when you just went AWOL on me, like that? I didn't know where you were." Adam spoke in his defense, but gently, trying to calm the tension back down. "If you really want to know, Adam, it's because I couldn't sit there and listen to you die. I couldn't-" He stopped, trying to keep from crying again. "...I had to remove myself because I was scared, too." Pritchard nearly shouted at him, and Adam stayed calm.

"You thought I was going to die. What does it matter to you, Pritchard?" He couldn't do this anymore. His approach turned aggressive. The older one stood up and stood back to stare down at Adam, speechless and angry. "What does it- What does it matter to me?!" Frank yelled, fists balled. "Contrary to what you may think, Jensen, I have grown over my childish hatred of you but it seems you've not moved ahead yet." The blue-eyed tech kept his voice raised.

"I've been trying to be nice, trying to reach out to you, and I attempted the past week to really care about you so we could work well together. But as soon as you find out your pretty little ex-girlfriend may yet be alive, you turned cold as ice on me again, after we started to work together!" He turned away, hands on the desk, head hung.

"That's not true, Frank." Adam said loudly, standing up defensively, shutting off his CASIE to think about his own feelings and not the other's.

Spinning around, he glared, smiling in disbelief. "Oh really? What exactly was it you said to me after you got into Singapore? Let me think." He mused sarcastically, scoffing.

"I told you-" Adam stopped, remembering now. Francis was right.

"I don't have time to help you keep tabs on me. I have better things to do, like figuring out where Megan and the others are." Pritchard recited on a sharp growl. "I could have helped you, Jensen- I could have made your job easier- But what did you do? You kept me out of the loop, like you have all week, and I've dealt." He threw his hands up in frustration. "I'm supposed to be your spotter, Jensen. And you can't seem to accept the fact that Megan...was using you." He hissed, taking a step forward.

"You take that back, right now, Pritchard." Adam warned, voice raising again, feeling anger and defense flood his body.

"See? You're doing it now- You refuse to accept that all these years, you've just been some science experiment kept in a pretty cage. The only reason Sarif has you working here is because of your fucked up DNA! The only reason Megan loved you was because you were the perfect little-"

Adam socked him across the cheek, and he spun back to the table, knees buckling in and cheek colliding with the wood, before he braced himself, kneeling on the floor, face planted on the desk. He was silent, and still, feeling his cheek was cut, and beginning to mix blood with his saliva.

The younger man froze, and stared wide eyed at the fit of rage he just experienced. He just hit Pritchard, for being right. About everything. Looking down, he tried to catch his breath from hyperventilating. "Francis-" He lunged forward to pick him up off the floor, turning him to face him, where Pritchard threw his hands up in a flinch, as if Adam was readying another strike. "...I'm a monster." He breathed, swallowing, feeling the fright that Pritchard was experiencing.

The tech's hands came down, and he looked wide eyed up at Adam, blood seeping down his chin. "Adam-"

"All you've been trying to do is be a better work partner, and...maybe even a friend- and all I've done is shut you out. No wonder why you can't tell me anything." He retracted his shades, green-yellow eyes looking down, and showing the hint of tears on his waterline, but neither knew to acknowledge it. Slowly, he moved to set Pritchard down on his couch. The long-haired tech looked up as Adam stood, fingers coming to his stinging, aching cheek. "Stay here." He ordered, softly, walking out of the room and into his bedroom for a moment.

Unsure what to do, Pritchard felt like he had done enough damage by being here, and was about to get up, but- He heard something coming from the bathroom. A breathy sound, it sounded like...silent sobbing. And then he heard a shatter on impact. It was glass. Adam had broken the brand new replacement mirror with his fist. Oh, maintenence was not going to be happy with him, at all. Rising to his feet, he ran up the stairs and into the bedroom.

"...Jensen...?" Pritchard asked cautiously, sidestepping until he saw a crumpled black figure on the floor. Hurrying inside, Pritchard moved his hands to push Adam back, only to have him cover his face with black, shiny fingers, batting Frank away. Adamant, he pried at the hands to come away, and after a struggle, he saw something he never thought possible. Adam was crying. What had occured this week was emotionally crushing to them both, and they couldn't take anymore. They were both breaking.

"Adam- Adam-" The security technician sat down beside him, and moved his jaw to get Adam to look at him. Too weak to resist, he turned his head to look at Pritchard, but his eyes stayed down. His lips were pursed, nostrils flared, cheeks rosy as tears came down his cheeks. A sight Frank never thought he'd see or even fathom in his life. "Adam... You're not a monster." Francis said comfortingly, but sternly, and firm.

"I never even wanted this-" His raspy voice was wet, saliva thick from crying. "I just wanted someone who cared- Not this. Not this body- Not this fucked up job, or this whole fucked up argument about fucking Augs..." He sobbed softly, but angrily. "I just wanted someone...to be happy with, with a job that didn't want me as a guinea pig. And now...I'm the poster boy for LIMB clinics and manufacturers- Everyone's gonna get my DNA now like I'm some sort of vaccination against an epidemic-" He choked breathily, and all Francis did was listen.

"Everyone has a reason to have me around." He concluded, head dropping, where he sniffled, moving a sleeve up to brush his nose. A long pause, and Pritchard felt his stomach stir. "...I never had a reason." The hacker said quietly. "I never even wanted you around, Jensen." He grinned a bit, and it earned a soft laugh out of Adam. Good. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even brought it up." He sighed, looking down, hands on Adam's shoulders.

"No, you're right. And I see it now." He looked to the side, sighing, the sobbing and tears halting slowly. "I didn't mean to hit a nerve this badly. But... Seriously, Jensen. I haven't had a single friend in the workplace because people can't deal with my crap. You're the closest thing I have to a friend, what does that tell you?" He chuckled, even though it was true.

"...Tells me you're a real loser, Francis." Adam quipped, grinning a little. The other couldn't help but scoff in slight offense. "...It's true. But... being like a friend...I'd like it if you'd let me in, Jensen. I'm honestly not looking to rip your head off. You can dispose of me in whatever way you like if I do end up stabbing your back." Pritchard reassured with his accented voice, brows furrowing.

Adam looked up, and smiled a little bit, giving his last sniffle to keep from running all over the floor. "Good, you know I'll choose carefully." He murmured. "Thank you, Frank." He said softly, and the older one shook his head. "It's nothing, Jensen, don't get so melodramatic on me." Pritchard groaned fakely, standing up. "Now come on, get up, before I call your landlady up here and call you a psychopath for assaulting both the mirror and me." He bitched, teasing now.

"Mm, need to fix that." He made a sheepish face, bringing himself to stand, looking behind Pritchard to get the First-Aid Kit. "Come on. Let's get you fixed up before you file a lawsuit." Adam murmured, walking out of the bathroom with the kit.

"Ah, Jensen, that really won't be necessary. I'm fine." Francis smoothed his ponytail again, looking away awkwardly, biting his lip. "Pritchard, same goes for you coming here just to drool all over my coat." Adam gruffly noted the crying earlier. "Now come on." He called behind him, and reluctantly, Francis followed him out into the living room.

(( A.N.: Hope that wasn't too terrible, this was the first draft and I wanted to get it posted before I deleted the whole thing out of a fluster. I may revise and polish it at a later time, but otherwise, I would greatly appreciate a review. Please? ))