Missing scene post surgery and pre Milwaukee Plant mission. This is the argument between Sarif and Adam that was alluded to in a previous snippet. My take on how the mirror in Adam's apartment was smashed and why he doesn't tell management how it happened.

"I must reiterate what a terrible idea this is, David. I have been getting all kinds of complaints from the management about Adam's behavouir. I hate to say it, but you're the last person he wants to see right now," Athene's concerned voice spoke in his ear. Sarif, riding upwards in the Chiron Building's elevator, frowned at the metal doors. Though she couldn't see him, he knew she could imagine the look on his face.

"I haven't seen Adam in two months and we haven't talked in over three weeks. He's been avoiding me, and if he wants to fight with me about his situation, I'll let him, it's the least he deserves. But I won't let him isolate himself."

Athene huffed a weary, all suffering sigh. "It's clear I can't talk you out of this, but know this David Sarif, when you come back here tail tucked between your legs because Adam gave you a good verbal thrashing I'll simply say 'I told you so'."

"And you'd be right."

"Par for the course then, isn't it?"

Sarif chuckled, "Good night, Athene."

"Good night." She clicked off the line and a moment later the elevator doors opened on Adam's floor.

Sarif strode down the hall to Adam's apartment. He hesitated briefly outside the door, augmented arm poised to press the door chime, even though his biometrics were keyed to the lock. He could open it without Adam's permission, and had done so on several occasions when Adam had first arrived at this apartment to recover. However, in this instance, it seemed more appropriate to allow Adam the opportunity to answer the door himself. He pressed the chime, a single beep on this side of the door was all the acknowledgement Sarif received.

It took several minutes for the door to open and Sarif's hands went to his hips as he waited, simultaneously annoyed and worried about how long it was taking for Adam to come to the door. He was considering opening the lock himself went the door finally slid open revealing Adam's scowling continence.

"Adam."

"Boss." Despite the deference that one word implied, Sarif very nearly recoiled at the contempt in Adam's tone. He stood his ground, however.

"We should talk."

Adam's lanky, shirtless frame didn't move from the doorway, "About what?"

"About why you've been dodging my calls, for starters."

"That should be obvious, boss."

Sarif sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing for a brief moment he had brought his baseball so he'd have something to occupy his hands with. "Let's not do this in hall."

Adam stared at him a moment longer, gaze hard. Made even more so by his augment eyes, and the sharp angles of his facial implants. Then he stepped aside and gestured, with the hand holding a half empty bottle of rye, for Sarif to come in. Sarif brushed past Adam and headed down the short staircase into the living room.

The space was still cluttered by unopened boxes despite it having been more than four months since Adam moved in. Sarif moved to the desk in corner, next to the tv, and examined the clock that Adam was building. It hadn't changed much since the last time Sarif had seen it, not a good sign. He wondered what Adam had been occupying himself with, aside from whiskey.

Sarif could feel Adam's gaze burning into the back of his head, and turned to face him. Adam was standing behind the couch, the bottle deposited somewhere for the time being, and a glass half full of rye now in his hand. His augmented arms dully reflecting the yellow light of Detroit's street lights, and a pair of worn sweet pants covered his legs. His augmented feet were bare however, and clicked sharply against the wooden floor.

"So, are you going to talk or just mentally catalogue all the things I haven't done since you were here last?" Adam's tone was cutting and Sarif bristled against it.

"Both."

Adam stepped around the couch. "Am I not recovering fast enough for you?"

"You'll recover at your own pace, Adam. I don't expect anything else. But alcohol is probably not helping with the neural bonding agents."

"Worried I'll get rejection syndrome?"

No, Sarif thought, I'm worried about your mental health. Aloud he said, "It's a painful thing to have, believe me."

"Says the man who removed his arm to pitch better."

Sarif's face went tight with displeasure, was that one quip going to follow him around forever? "Did Frank tell you that?"

Adam didn't answer, just coldly stared at Sarif. Then he downed his rye and set the glass on top of a box.

Sarif crossed his arms, the engravings on his augmented arm glinting in the low light. "I lost my right arm below the elbow in car crash when I was twelve. I've had prosthetics since then, mostly crude ones. Hugh Darrow built me a more dexterous model when he saw mine after a speech he gave at MIT. I was still a student then, and it wasn't until I received it, that I became interested in prosthetics and augmentations. I had the rest of my arm removed after I started Sarif Industries to test out our first prosthetic arm model. I made that flippant comment about pitching better years ago and it has dogged me ever since."

Adam look away from Sarif but didn't offer an apology, not that he was expecting one, but at least that information seemed to win a few points in his favour.

Sarif uncrossed his arms, it was now or never concerning this conversation. "Adam, you can't keep isolating yourself. Athene says you haven left the apartment in a month. You won't take my calls, you won't take anyone's calls. Mrs. Reed called me this morning to ask if you were okay. I couldn't honestly tell her yes. She's worried about you, we all are."

"If you were really worried about me, then you would have let me die in that pile of rubble instead of turning me into this!" Adam exploded as he pushed himself in Sarif's personal space. Sarif didn't back away, as he knew Adam would have liked him to.

"You wouldn't let yourself die, Adam. You think we recesitated you? You were still alive when we found you, you fought for life. I just gave you means to keep on living."

"Then why didn't you simply fix what was broken and leave what was not? I have the medical reports, you told the doctors to remove healthy limbs and organs so you could have them replaced with augments. For Christssake, I'm more machine than man now!"

Sarif grabbed a hold of Adam's arm with his own augmented one. "You think this is the judge of whether or not you're human? You think this makes you more or less of a man? This," Sarif gestured with Adam's arm, "is an extension of you, the same as your organic arm was. It's no different. The measure of a man is his deeds, not his body."

Adam wrenched his arm away. "You're fucking unbelievable. You're not even a little bit sorry are, you? Christ."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Adam. I'm sorry about Megan, and Vasili, Eric, Declan and Nia. I'm sorry that you're struggling, but I'm not sorry for giving you those augments, Adam. I'll never be sorry for that."

For a moment it looked like Adam was going to hit him and Sarif tensed to dodge it, then Adam clenched his fists and turned away.

"Get out," he snarled and stalked across the living space to the bedroom.

Sarif didn't move. "And if I leave now, will you? You can't ignore the world, son. You can't sit in here forever feeling sorry for yourself. You're meant for great things Adam, this is only the beginning."

Adam paused at the bedroom's threshold. "And what great thing is that? A guinea pig for you?"

That stung more that Sarif cared to admit. He spoke the truth when he said he wasn't sorry for giving Adam the augments, he was, however, sorry for not giving Adam the choice.

"You were never that."

Adam laughed at that, it was a bitter hollow sound. "Whatever you say, boss."

Sarif watched him disappear into the bedroom, and wavered for moment in the living room. He could leave now, come back in a few days and try and talk with Adam again, or he could go in there and keep pushing Adam out of his blanket of anger and bitterness, and probably get a black eye and broken cheek for his trouble.

Sarif rubbed the back of his neck and strode in after Adam.

The room was dark, the curtains drawn against the night. The only light source was from the bathroom, where the door was slightly ajar. Sarif moved outside the door, and settled himself against the narrow shelf along the wall.

"You can hate me Adam, that's your prerogative. You can hate what I've done, and you can hate who you are now. But what you don't seem to understand is that who you are hasn't changed. If augments could change someone's soul then we really would lose who we are, and maybe those anti-augs would have an argument.

"But these have only made your body faster, stronger; they've made your mind work faster; made you see clearer and farther. But they haven't change your view of the world, haven't change how you think and it doesn't change who you are."

The bathroom door was yanked open, and Adam glared at him from the doorway, silhouetted by the light. "I thought I told you to leave."

That comment rankled Sarif and he spoke without thinking. "I don't take orders from you, son."

That comment finally broke Adam's control on his temper, and the half bottle of whiskey probably hadn't helped either. Adam lunged forward and grabbed Sarif by his waistcoat, yanking him into the bathroom and shoving up against the counter.

"And I'm done taking orders from you, Sarif," Adam seethed, not letting up on his grip.

Sarif braced his hands on the counter, trying to relieve some of the pressure that Adam was placing on him by leaning his weight against Sarif.

"If you want to quit, go ahead. I'll be sorry to see you go, but I won't stop you. But we both know that you're more angry with yourself than you are with me."

"Fuck you."

"You blame yourself for not saving Megan, and by extension, me, because I gave you the augments that saved your life and not hers."

Adam's fists clenched tighter, "Don't talk about her."

"She was my friend, I would have done almost anything for Megan. But that just wasn't for us do. There was no saving her, or any of them." Grief flashed across Sarif's features and for a moment Adam's grip lessened. "Don't you think I feel that failure just as acutely as you do? I was their boss, it was my duty to keep them safe."

"Stop talking."

Sarif's voice went soft and low. "It was never your fault, Adam. She was beyond your ability to save."

Adam made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and released Sarif. For a brief moment Sarif was grateful, but he saw the tensing of Adam's arm and torso and knew that in that split-second that Adam was reading for a punch that Sarif had no way to dodge. He flinched as Adam's fist travelled towards him and heard a sicking sound of something shattering. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't in fact his face, but rather the mirror behind him.

Slowly, Adam uncurled his fist from where it had impacted with the glass and stepped back from Sarif. He didn't say anything, just sat down heavily on the toilet seat. Sarif hauled himself off where Adam had awkwardly placed him on the counter and straightened out his rumpled waistcoat.

"Son..."

Adam flinched away from the sound of Sarif's voice. "Please leave."

"...Alright. But Adam, you're not alone in this."

Sarif left the bathroom, and headed back out to main living space. He slowly climbed the few stairs to the front door landing, pausing briefly to take a deep breath and let it out before stepping out of the apartment and into the hallway. Silently he prayed that one day Adam would forgive him, because he knew he couldn't fight this war alone.