A/N Hi everyone, thank you for your patience. Thanks to Heioghaa and LoveandScience for their lovely reviews. A special thanks to LoveandScience who was so kind to edited it and check it for mistakes. *sending a lot of hearts* I hope you enjoy to chapter and I will see you guys in the near future :) Please leave a review or comment on your thoughts because it gives me a lot of motivation.

It wasn't a dream! He gasped and widened his eyes at the screen. Was his mind playing tricks? What did she mean? Did she mean the images? What was the option? Adam reflected different aspects of his experience, along with his hopes and fears of the future. He buried face in his hands. He suddenly heard voices coming from his living room and he grabbed a pistol from his top drawer. "Maybe he is in here!" A voice shouted from the living room. Wait…? He knew that voice. It belonged to David Sarif, his boss. He lowered his gun as he entered the living room.

Everyone in the room gasped as Adam, in full figure, stepped into his living room from his office, dressed only in a towel from the waist down. What a welcoming committee, Adam thought as he walked into the room, avoiding any eye contact. They were no doubt gasping at the amount of augmentation attached to his body. The light of the sunrise streamed through his windows, casting shadows in their faces. Adam stayed silent as his shades covered his eyes. "Adam! You gave us a shock by wandering away from the hospital." David said in a loud voice and walked towards him. The ex-SWAT stepped back, which made his boss stop. "Adam, are you okay?"

"Stop," the cyborg said, and looked around the room. There were at least seven men, including David. Had there ever been so many people in his living room at once before? "Don't come closer," he stated, as he secured his gun and laid it on a small table close to the window. He didn't trust his boss, but he didn't want to kill him either. Walking through the room, up the stairs and up to the kitchen, he took out a small glass and poured himself a glass of bourbon. Adam opened his refrigerator and examined its contents. He hadn't been shopping for a month, so there wasn't much to see. From his freezer, he then took an ice cube and gently placed it in the glass. He took the glass in his hands, shaking it a little, and took a small sip. Mmm… Bourbon… "You can all leave now," Adam started, taking another small sip. "I'd like some privacy. I haven't been home in a month, according to my calendar." His voice was raw and the tone made it clear that the topic wasn't up for discussion.

Sarif waved the men out of the room, leaving the cyborg alone with his boss. Adam took his glass of Bourbon and walked down to his couch, sat and lit another cigarette. The footsteps of his boss could be heard in the background as his front door closed. "Adam?" David sounded nervous.

"Yes," the cyborg simply said in a tone without a question mark. He wasn't interested in a conversation, and he felt his blood boil. His boss knew that Megan had used his DNA to find a miracle for the stop of glial tissue forming after augmentation surgery. What to make of that? He raised his glass suddenly. "I'd like to bring a toast to people's bosses and ex-girlfriends who use ones DNA," he said savagely, but in a low voice. "And not telling it before it is too late," Adam continued, as another zip of Bourbon found its way to his mouth. It tasted good and matched his mood. David didn't say anything as Adam finished his glass. Standing up, he turned to face his boss. "Do you have any idea how fucked up this is?" Adam asked as he held his glass with his augmented fingers.

David sighed in that way only he could. "Adam, we…"

The cyborg held up a finger, indicating that he didn't want to hear anything. "Boss, I have been in a coma for a month." He (not sure what verb is intended here)stirred at the elder man as he walked towards the big windows, watching Detroit waking up. "I have been asleep and believe me, to wake up finding out that the world has functioned as it usually has… is not relaxing." He paused. "There is a lot of unfinished businesses I have to take care of, and…"

He almost didn't get to finish his sentence as a woman came running into the living room from the front door. "Adam…?" It was Megan. Adam stood frozen on the spot as his ex-girlfriend stood beside his boss. His eyes widened, almost painfully, and his grip around the empty glass tightened. "You are awake…" she almost sounded relieved.

"Get out," Adam hissed shortly, not taking his eyes from Megan. His eyes narrowed slowly, fiery, as was the expression in his face.

She widened her eyes, shocked. "Adam, I…"

"GET OUT!" he snapped, and threw his glass into the back wall of the living room. The glass smashed from the wall and fell noisily to the floor. Megan shivered as David raised both his hands as a sign to Adam to calm down. The cyborg clenched his teeth. "Get out… now…!" He removed his gaze from her, breathing deeply, and closed his eyes. His headache suddenly returned, and the images flashed before his eyes. He placed his hands on either side on his head. Stop… Adam screamed inside his mind. His knees fell to the floor.

"Adam?!" Both Megan and David exhaled and ran to his side, trying to stabilize him.

"Get out of my head…!" Adam yelled as images of humans in various shapes and moods ran before his eyes, not knowing why he thought he knew them. The fictional humans in his vision raised hands toward him, crying faces. Who are they? What do they want?

Adam opened his eyes, feeling uncomfortable and still in his apartment, but on the floor. "Mr. Jensen?" an unknown man asked.

"Mm..?" He mumbled as he tried to sit up and noticed that he was covered with a blanket. The unknown man turned out to be a paramedic. Adam got to his feet again and said that he just wanted to be alone. "I have to advise you, Mr. Jensen, to go with us to the hospital so we can have you checked out. You passed out. I would like to have a colleague look at you."

Adam smirked. "Haven't your colleagues looked enough at me over the last month?" Adam suddenly looked up towards his kitchen where he saw Megan crying at an unknown man's shoulder. He couldn't see his boss. He narrowed his eyes.

"She is a little shocked, but she will be okay," the paramedic said. Adam didn't answer. The cyborg sighed and agreed to go to the hospital on the condition that Megan or David didn't come. He couldn't stand looking at or hearing either of them. He felt so betrayed, so hurt and empty. After getting dressed, he went to the hospital along with the paramedics. The clock told him that it was past midnight. He had been out for hours, he thought. It was sunrise when he had one of his images attack (do you mean the image attacked him, or is this a repeated "image attack" that he has on a regular basis?).

At the hospital, a psychiatrist examined him and another doctor checked his physical status. The doctor couldn't contain his surprise as Adams electronics limbs worked as they should. It was clear that it wasn't what he had expected. Physically, Adam was fine, but he found it hard to concentrate and focus on anything. Even eating seemed to give him a headache. The cyborg was hospitalized for three days before it was decided that he should be seen by a psychiatrist. Adam agreed to that, hoping that it could help, but thinking about what Eliza had said, he sighed deeply.

I can't guarantee that you will survive, but make sure that you settle your unfinished business before the symptoms takes over your mind. Remember that you have all the answers now and you made a choice. You can't undo or regret it. The next choice will also be yours and I hope that you find a way.

He moved back to his apartment where he was officially on sick leave again from Sarif Industries. More sick leave, he mumbled, on a usual Thursday morning under the shower after his morning training. He had his first appointment with the psychiatrist that day, but all that could make him relax was either sleeping medicine or a cold shower. Walking out of the shower, he took a large blue towel and draped it around his waistline to cover his naked body. His mirror had finally been replaced. It had happened while he was hospitalized for the second time. His reflected face was ashen and pale as he started to dry himself with the blue beach towel.

For a moment, he remembered his mother… Emmm… his adoptive mother, who would drape a towel around him when he had been in a bath. If she saw him now… like this? He felt ashamed as he got dressed, covering most of his body. She would have thought that had failed as a mother if she saw his augmentation. Only his neck, head and his augmented hands were visible. He grabbed his wallet and cell phone, putting them into his pockets, his shades covering his eyes before leaving the semi-lit apartment, which in a way didn't feel like home anymore. It never really had.

The location for his appointment was downtown. He wandered aimlessly through the streets as the morning became afternoon, sometimes talking to himself or shaking his head. There were a lot of people in the streets that morning. Some shopping, some arguing and no matter where he looked, he felt lonely like never before. A little girl in the front seat of a black BMW stuck her head out of her window and stared, open-mouthed, at Adam as he passed by. Then she turned to her mother and asked, "Mommy, what is wrong with that man? Where's he going? I want to get out and walk too." The mother responded to her cries in silence, shaking her head and shooting an accusatory glance at the cyborg. The shocking transformation terrified anyone who saw his body, so he was careful never to show it off in the presence of a stranger. He would contort his face only when he was alone or when he was threatening someone who displeased him.

After one meeting with an obscenely dull (dull if you mean boring) old man who turned out to be a psychiatrist, Adam was sent to his next appointment at the hospital. It was late afternoon, hot and extremely sterile(not quite sure of word intent). He followed the blue footsteps on the floor which led him to an elevator and the 18th floor. The sign on the elevator said MD. K. Lundberg, neurosurgeon. Lundberg? He narrowed his eyes. The letter on the sign was in black and side longed. Maybe the doctor was a foreigner? What was he doing here?

An elderly woman sat behind a reception desk as he walked out of the elevator. She had a granny look to her that was comforting, but it couldn't be heard in her voice. "Mr. Jensen?" She asked in a raspy voice, like she had been to a rock concert. Adam nodded. Her name badge said: D. Smith. She had platinum blond hair, light eyes that looked augmented, and was dressed in a Caribbean-inspired shirt and a grey pencil skirt. "Please take a seat on the sofas over there. Dr. Lundberg will be here shortly."

Talking about things wasn't going to change anything. The doctor would be late, but Adam looked around as he walked over to a sofa. The office looked new, very modern and weirdly relaxing. A big room with high ceilings, big windows overlooking Detroit subs. His heart quickened at the sight of a woman who came out of the elevator a few moments after him. She looked at him and suddenly stopped. "Mr. Jensen?" she asked, and Adam nodded once from the sofa. The woman had small, but firmed curls in her dark brown hair that went a little longer then her shoulders. She wore blue scrubs that were loose around her chest and waist and with sleeves stopping right at her elbows. Adam could see that her figure was slim due to the way her matching blue pants curved around her thighs, but it was in a good way. Maybe she worked out? There was something breathtaking about her. She didn't wear a lot of make-up and was only wearing a thin bracelet made of gold and pearl earrings. Adam didn't want to admit it to himself, but she was attractive.

After regaining her composure, the woman walked over to the receptionist and handed over two light green folders and they exchanged professional smiles with each other. "Please file these for me, Diana, and please move my meeting with Mr. Sarif. I won't be able to make lunch on Friday and…" She sighed. "Please call Mr. T's office about the dinner next month. I don't know if I will be able to make it," the brunette said, and the elder woman nodded. "And please call Dr. Philips about the congress paper and say that I am too busy."

"Anything else?" the receptionist asked with a smile as she wrote on a little notepad. Writing notes on paper? It had been a long time since Adam had experienced that, but he could see that she enjoyed her job.

"No, I think that covers it. Thanks, Diana." The woman smiled briefly, giving the desk a pat on the surface before facing the cyborg. Her smile suddenly faded, but she pulled herself together and walked over to him, raising her hand towards him. "Mr. Jensen. Welcome. I'm Katherine Lundberg, your new neurogenic physician." Surprised, he stood up from the black leather sofa and they shook hands. "Please, come in," she invited him into her office, holding a glass door for him. He hesitated for a moment but walked in after a heart beat or two. A woman? Adam felt a little surprised that he was going to talk to a female doctor.

"Thank you," he simply said. The next room was very simple but again very modern. A glass wall dominated the end of the room, allowing the sunlight to stream in. She must like natural light, Adam thought as he retracted his shades. There was also a sofa area for consultations, a desk in front of the glass wall with a laptop and a vase of fresh flowers. The design of the room had clear lines and was showered with light.

"Mr. Jensen?" The doctor said and Adam snapped out of his state of mind. "Please take a seat. I will be right there." She raised her hand towards a dark red chair across her desk and he walked over and sat down. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

"Water, please." He hadn't noticed that he was thirsty, but it was a hot day after all and he hadn't taken his coat off. The sound of water being poured into glasses echoed in the silent room. He suddenly wondered where she was from. Her accent didn't sound from Detroit or even American. There was something British over it, but he wasn't certain.

"Here you go." She gave him a glass of ice water and sat opposite him. She reached for an A5 format notebook and a simple black ballpoint pen. "First, I would like to apologize for being late," she started as her gaze met Adam's.

He nodded, accepting her apology. "Where are you from?" Adam asked suddenly, finding himself curious. "I can't place your accent."

She gave him a professional smile. "I'm from Denmark."

He narrowed his eyes. Denmark… Where in the world is that? Adam thought.

She smiled at his reaction. "It is in northern Europe," she said, and the ex-SWAT gazed at her. Could she read his thoughts? No, it was just his imagination. "While requirements to become a physician differ from country to country, all require a medical degree," she said, and turned in her seat.

"So, you are a doctor?" he asked, trying not to put any irony into the sentence. There were diplomas hanging on the walls from different Universities. The oldest was diploma was proof of a medical degree from The University of Southern in Denmark. The next from The Department of Neuroscience from King's College in England and finally from America was a degree from NYU in Neurosurgery with a specialty in augmentations and enhancement surgeries. Wow, Adam thought. She is a smart one. The ex-SWAT wasn't into the whole science prospect of the world, but could admire people who did what they were good at. Under the diplomas hung pictures of her with different people, but Adam only recognized one. Bill Taggart.

She smiled again. "Yes, I am." She answered short, making it difficult to hide her amusement over his comment.

Adam nodded as he returned to reality. Was she finding him amusing? "So, you are a surgeon?" He suddenly thought of Bill Taggart, the founder of the pro-humanist group Humanity Front. After returning from the Highland Park FEMA complex, Adam had found Taggart in Sarif's penthouse, along with his bodyguards and personal aide, Isaias Sandoval. Taggart had confronted Jensen directly, claimed that he wished to speak with him as well as condemn the violent actions of Purity First, and attempted to psychoanalyze him. Adam had either listened to his claims that augmentation is endangering the human race, or wanted to confront him about the Purity First incident. He had told Adam that he was a psychologist.

"Yes, I am a neurosurgeon," she said politely, answering his question. The doctor placed her head to one side, making her hair slide gently down her shoulder as she sensed his discomfort. "Is something wrong, Mr. Jensen?"

Neuro… Megan had a degree in neuroscience as well. His ex-girlfriend had moved to France around 2012, where she graduated in Neurology & Psychology. He suddenly realized that it was the word that gave him a nasty taste in his mouth. "No," he lied to the doctor and broke eye contact. This woman had nothing to do with Megan.

"Mr. Jensen. A neurosurgeon or neurological surgeon has the medical speciality concerned with the prevention, diagnosis, treatment, and rehabilitation of disorders which affect any portion of the nervous system including the brain, spinal cord, peripheral nerves, and extra-cranial cerebrovascular system," she said matter-of-factly. "I have specialized myself in treating people who are augmented or have had enhancement surgery. I can't, however, hide that I was surprised when I received your file from your doctor here yesterday. He recommended that I take your case." She was a little bossy, but Adam didn't mind. She didn't know, of course, that it wasn't her that gave him a bad taste in his mouth, but he did narrow his eyes at the last comment.

"Why is that?" Adam asked, not moving, and it seemed that time stopped.

To have a second world continue...