A/N: Thanks so much for all of the reviews, guys! This chapter is pretty violent and also shows a bit of torture, so if you don't like that kind of stuff, you might not want to read it.

xxxx

As unpleasant as Jensen's first awakening was, his second was worse. It was sudden, a splash of something wet and freezing followed closely by a revival of every injury he'd acquired in the past day. It took him a minute to realize that someone had dumped water on his head and by the time he'd gotten that much figured out, he was being pulled off the ground and shoved into a chair.

And then his arms, already achy and painful, were wrenched behind his back, and Jensen couldn't stop a scream from erupting past his lips.

"Shut the hell up!" Someone barked, and Jensen bit back a groan. A light, bright and intense and shining directly at him, was turned on over his head, and he blinked rapidly and squinted beneath it. There were at least five men standing around him, and every single one of them looked pissed.

"Glad you guys decided to join the party," Jensen said with the biggest grin he could muster, and he wasn't entirely surprised when something –definitely a fist, maybe brass knuckles- smashed into his face. His nose and lip started bleeding simultaneously, and his cheekbone felt decimated.

"Not the face!" He moaned, just before another fist smashed into his eye.

"Shut up!" It was the same voice that had told him to shut up earlier, and now that the light was on, Jensen could get a good look at him. He looked like a stereotypical bruiser, bald and huge, tattoos up his heavily muscled arms and a small goatee sprouting from his face.

"What, you miss your anger management session this week?" Jensen inquired, then winced at his own inability to just keep his mouth shut. Another fist snapped his head around, and he was sure he'd felt bone crack.

"Listen to me, you little bastard," the bruiser said under his breath. "I only want to hear one thing come out of your mouth, and that's your name, and why you were breaking in to McElroy's office. Get it?"

Jensen very nearly pointed out that he had, in fact, said two things, but thought better of it and remained silent.

"I said, 'get it?'" The man demanded, yanking Jensen's head up by the hair and setting a distressingly large knife against his exposed throat.

"I get it," Jensen grated out, adam's apple bobbing.

"Good." The man shoved Jensen's head forward again and Jensen sucked air in through his mouth, the coppery tang of blood making him feel dangerously nauseous. His nose was already starting to swell so much that it was hard to breathe through it.

"Who are you? And who the hell are you working for?" Jensen's head was yanked back again, and he was seriously starting to get dizzy from all of the movement. He kept his mouth shut.

"I asked you a question."

Jensen remained quiet.

"You can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"Can you possibly be any more cliché?" Jensen asked finally, simply unable to keep his mouth shut any longer. The man just grinned at him and held up what appeared to be a pair of pliers.

"Hard way it is."

Jensen swallowed.

"Shit."

xxxx

Pooch had already arrived, and he and Cougar and Clay were sitting in an uncomfortable silence by the time Aisha showed up, backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Took you long enough," Pooch grumbled, and Aisha shot him a glare before sitting down at the small table and pulling a laptop out of her bag.

"How do you plan on finding him?" Clay asked, settling into the chair across from her. Cougar was perched half-on, half-off the table, and Pooch was pacing restlessly next to it. Aisha took a deep breath.

"You remember when Jensen went missing last year?" Clay and Cougar nodded, and Pooch raised an eyebrow.

"You mean when he went off to Comic-Con without telling anyone?" He asked.

"Yeah. Well, I didn't like that," Aisha said, sounding much more awkward than usual. A grin spread over Pooch's face.

"You mean you were worried about him, don't you? You were worried about Jensen!"

Aisha clenched her teeth and raised an eyebrow at Pooch.

"He's the best damn tech out there," she defended, "and I didn't want to have to worry about finding a new one. Okay?"

Pooch said nothing, but the smirk he shared with Cougar made it evident that they didn't believe her. Even Clay was smiling a little.

"Moving on," Aisha said firmly before pointing at the computer screen. "I didn't want him and his highly valuable skills to disappear again, so I put a tracking chip on him."

There was silence for a second.

"A tracking chip?" Cougar repeated incredulously, and Aisha nodded. "Where did you put it?"

"On his glasses."

There was even more silence.

"I don't know whether that's creepier than hell or brilliant," Pooch said finally.

"Why the hell didn't you say anything before?" Clay demanded, and Aisha shrugged.

"It was awhile ago, and it's not like I've needed to use it since then. I wasn't sure it still worked. And, well, Jensen's the person I would normally go to to check it out, so I had to find someone else."

Clay remained quiet, and it was clear that he was brooding.

"Where does it say he is?" Cougar asked finally.

"In the business district. Looks like it's in a bunch of warehouses or something."

"And we're assuming he still has his glasses on," Clay said, and everyone else looked somber.

"Course he has them on," Pooch said. "He's blind without them."

"Yeah," Cougar said. "He has them."

It was false hope and they all knew it, but it was all they had to go on, and they weren't willing to give it up.

"Let's move out then."

xxxx

Jensen didn't have a name-rank-serial number anymore, so he made do with just talking instead. And, worried that he might inadvertently say something that was actually relevant, he decided to talk about one topic that he knew in detail and that had nothing to do with anything. Superheroes.

Specifically, the X-Men.

"Who are you?"

"Scott Summers."

"Who do you work for?"

"Xavier."

The other man, who Jensen had decided looked a lot like Juggernaut, looked slightly confused.

"Xavier?"

"Yes."

"What do you do? Why were you hacking McElroy's computer?"

"Well, my eyes shoot laser beams. That's why I normally wear glasses-"

A punch to the stomach followed by repeated blows to his ribcage cut him off completely.

"Let's try this again," Juggernaut said, and this time the pliers made another appearance. They'd only threatened him with them before, but Jensen realized that this time, he probably wasn't going to be so lucky.

"What's your name?"

"James Howlett. You can call me Wolverine."

His mouth was wrenched open, and someone held his shoulders. He grunted at the pain of his injured arm and desperately tried to shut his mouth, or to wriggle out of his captors' hold.

He didn't succeed.

He was able to see the pliers only when they were mere inches from his face, so Jensen had only a split second warning before they were in his mouth, pressure on one of his teeth, and he could only think at least it isn't a front tooth before a pain and blood and agony wiped every other thought from his mind.

xxxx

He woke up to the splashing water again. Time had lost all meaning and he wasn't sure how long he'd been here. Hours, days, weeks? His shoulder had gone untended for however long he'd been here, and he was sure that he had an infection. Not to mention blood loss. He was shivering with cold and pain and his mouth hurt and his chest hurt and his face hurt and he wanted it to end. He didn't care about how. Bullet to the brain, knife to the throat, just end it.

Instead, Juggernaut stood in front of him again.

"We got your hard drive," he announced. "We know who you were targeting."

And then a bleary figure stepped into the light, walking forward until he was practically nose-to-nose with him, and Jensen could finally make out a fairly handsome face with dark hair. A gloved hand came up and turned his cheek, and the man tsked lightly.

"They've done a real number on you, haven't they, Jensen?"

Jensen held his head up, chest heaving from the effort, and glared at the other man.

"Max, I presume?" He whispered, his voice scratchy and raw.

Max laughed, and it wasn't pleasant.

"Yes."

Jensen wanted to do something heroic, to make a snarky remark or to spit in Max's face, but he had no adrenaline left and he couldn't hold his head up any longer, and he ended up with his chin resting on his bloodied chest, silently fuming and silently terrified.

"Last time I dealt with you Losers, you left me with nothing. You humiliated me," Max said, tracing a finger down Jensen's arm. Jensen shuddered and tried to pull away, but was bound too tightly to move.

"And now, I'm going to do the same to you," Max whispered, getting close to Jensen's ear. "Your friends are going to come, and they are going to watch me kill you."

Jensen shuddered again, then gasped as a shot of pain lanced through his torso. He looked down in shock, saw the smoking cigarette that was still burrowing into his skin.

"Of course, I'm going to have a little fun first," Max added, and Jensen threw his head back and screamed, as long and as hard as he could.