Disclaimer: I do not own Now You See Me or any of its characters. If I did, there would be more of Jack

Author's Note: You may have noticed that I changed the title of the story to Things Inevident. I felt like the old title was too bulky. Sorry for any confusion! Also, my Beta, UnderHisWings, just posted her new Young Justice story: Leave of Absence. So if you are into that fandom, definitely check it out!

Chapter 6: Inconsistency

There were no words to describe Jack's sentiments on the current situation, but he was bored, and desperately needed to distract himself from the pain in his arms and the gnawing in his stomach, so he decided to try. Miserable, frightened, worried, hopeful…Jack realized it was a wide range of emotions that didn't make much sense, but were all true. Miserable physically, frightened emotionally, hopeful because he wanted to be rescued, yet worried because he didn't wish for the only family he had to be hurt or captured on account of him.

Jack took a deep breath, forgetting momentarily about his bruised ribs. The blissful unawareness that had overcome him as he allowed his mind to wander, was not to last, however, as his bones screamed in protest. Ok. So maybe commenting on the card-shaped slash marks that graced some of his abductors' faces hadn't been the smartest thing to do, but hey, Jack had never claimed to be smart. It was implied, yes, as living on the streets required a certain degree of intelligence… but he had never claimed it. Jack shook his head forcefully, which only amounted to a splitting headache. Seriously, there wasn't a part of him that didn't hurt like crazy. And to top it all off, it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus… both mentally and physically.

The hinges on the door squeaked, interrupting his scattered monologue. He groaned, partially from pain, but mainly from irritation and resignation. Swayed Italian shoes entered the darkness, backed by the spotlight of the outside world. Jack's eyes moved upward from there, taking in the smug expression of the middle-aged man, and glaring for all he was worth.

"Ah, Jack. Nice to see you have retained some of that stubborn spunk you have become so well known for."

Jack remained silent having learned by now that it was beneficial for him to let the man have his fun (not to say that he always did what was beneficial for him). It had become a sort of depressing routine, well, for Jack anyway. He suspected that his captor greatly enjoyed it. Basically, it involved Bradley waltzing in at an extremely inconvenient point in Jack's busy schedule, and talking his ears off. The longest it had lasted was 2 hours, and it was typically these lengthy appointments that Jack came away from more worse for wear, because he was incapable of biting back an insult of some sort, when the debunker made a particularly degrading remark about one of the Horsemen.

"Today… we are going to do something a little bit different, though," Thaddeus continued, as though he could read Jack's mind.

Immediately, Jack's suspicion was aroused. This didn't sound good. Bradley preferred things predictable, so anything "out of left field" could not mean pleasant things for anyone on the receiving end.

"We are going to make a phone call to one Dylan Shrike, just to throw a bit of fuel on the fire, as they do not seem to be performing exactly up to par. And, to ensure you don't interfere…"

He gestured to someone outside and stepped aside, allowing several of his men to come in, one holding a rag and some duct tape. Two held onto Jack, effectively immobilizing him, and making it easier for the third to stuff the rag in his mouth and strap duct tape overtop, gagging him. He struggled, managing to land a decent head-butt to the one that was gagging him and causing him to stumble back a pace. Unfortunately, this gave the men an excuse to rough him up. The "muscle man" on his left slugged him a good one in the cheek, and for a moment Jack saw stars. As his vision came back into focus, he saw Bradley dial his cell phone and put it to his ear, flashing a grin back at Jack in the process,

"Agent Dylan…Rhodes, was it? You'll have to excuse me. It's just a bit difficult for an old man like me to keep up with all the aliases. Oh! And just to save you the trouble; this phone is untraceable, so, don't waste time trying that Jack doesn't have. You want to talk to him? Well, I'm sorry to say he's not really in a position to hold a conversation right now, but he can say 'hi'. Go ahead Jack. Say 'hi' to Dylan."

Jack was faced with a dilemma. He wanted to let Dylan know that he was OK, but, on the other hand, if he stayed quiet, the Horsemen would have no proof that he was here. Maybe they would think he had escaped if Bradley could offer no physical evidence. He knew that the chance was slim, but it was the only one he had to keep them safe. Jack stared at the door opposite him defiantly and elected to stay silent, but Bradley, who had evidently deduced what was going on, was having none of it. He bobbed his head in Jack's direction and placed the phone down by his face, while one of Jack's captors kicked him in the stomach. He managed to stay mostly quiet, but a muffled, pained grunt escaped, and Bradley moved the phone back up to his ear in victory. Jack vaguely thought he could hear Dylan yelling over the phone, as he struggled to regain his breath despite the gag. Thaddeus ended the call with a simple but threatening "one week", before he shut the phone with a snap, and rounded on the sleight.

"You are being unusually irritating today, and I am rapidly becoming weary of your defiant act. Especially since we both know you are scared stiff, both for yourself and the rest if the horsemen. You can't stand being the pawn that draws them in, yet unable to help them. All the same, I'm not going to allow the defiance to go unpunished. Junior and Phil are going to stay here and teach you some manners… and yes, I realize how cliché that sounds. Nathan, you need to get that head checked out. It looks nasty."

That made Jack feel a little bit better.

"But you two, just, don't do any damage that would merit a visit to the ER," Bradley drawled as he strode out of the room without a backward glance, Nathan following like a submissive Pitbull. As the door closed behind them, a light flickered on across the room so the duo could see how much damage was being inflicted, and Junior and Phil grinned evilly at each other before turning their attention to the prisoner. If Jack had been capable of it, he would have gulped. As it was, he simply braced himself for the oncoming pain.

A few hours later, or maybe minutes—Jack had lost all sense of time, but it had certainly seemed like it was longer than minutes—Jack lay struggling for breath on the cold floor, sweat soaked clothes clinging to his shivering body. The metal shackles dug harshly into his bloody wrists, and he was covered in bruises. Through all of this, surprisingly, the "henchmen" (that's what Jack was calling them) had followed Bradley's orders and done no permanent damage, other than leaving perhaps a few future scars. Unfortunately, they had not removed the gag, and it was causing his mouth and throat to stay uncomfortably dry.

Now, more than ever, Jack wished for his friends to come save him, but his feelings contrary to that were also inflamed, as he knew that once Bradley had the others, there would no reason to hold back. So as Jack's world faded into darkness, he hoped and prayed that, in whatever path they chose, his family would stay safe.