Chapter Text
There was a very good reason Pritchard and Jensen kept their contact to a minimum. The last time they'd seen each other was when Pritchard called in the Alaska favor. He knew then that could be the last time they'd ever work together or even see each other. Of course, Jensen rudely cut the call as soon as he mentioned it.
But the reason was simple. Jensen couldn't afford to get too close to anyone while on his idiotic crusade. Back in Detroit, Pritchard told him it was going to be a disaster. He knew how Jensen thinks, whether he wanted to or not. Jensen is playing every single side. He's not fully committed to any one organization. He's using each one to advance his own little organization of one.
Pritchard gave him his opinion and he disregarded it. Well, no, not completely. He conceded he might be right but was going to try anyway. Jensen just might have an addiction to suicide missions.
There was one extra problem with his plan. Pritchard had accidentally become the person closest to him. Not in the romantic sense, Jensen hadn't been involved with anyone since he was augmented. No, Pritchard was more like his only friend. Which was sadly a mutual situation. Anything further than that was out of the question. Regardless if either were interested in something more.
Unfortunately, some of the people Jensen pissed off were convinced they were something more. No matter how much they tried to cut ties. Pritchard first found this out on a freelance hacking job. He breached a Tai Yong Medical facility firewall. His goal was the usual corporate espionage, the kind of jobs he hates doing but the paid the bills. He came across some e-mails regarding their 'relationship' (they called Pritchard his boyfriend.) and how they need to leverage it. Some idiot thought they could get Jensen to work for them if they used him. Likening it Jensen's quest to find Megan.
It was more likely that Jensen would do more damage to them than help. Even if it worked. Jensen always breaks his leash. At the time, Pritchard found it hilarious. He almost broke their no-contact rule just to show him.
Well, it's not funny anymore.
He looked down at his cuffed wrists. He was linked to the metal table in front of him. Originally, it seemed like a routine arrest. Something he could get out of with money in the right hands. He was still in Detroit after all. He had enough connections to make it work. But this...
No lawyer. No one told him the charges.
Oh, and a little police brutality to go along with it. They slammed the left side of his skull into the sidewalk so hard his vision went funny. Along with a good scrape on his cheek bone.
No first-aid. No medic. He could have a concussion.
If this was a real arrest, any lawyer could get him out on bond in two minutes.
He wasn't put in a cell. He was put in this windowless room with crude soundproofing. He waited just over two hours before someone came in. They weren't any of the detectives he was familiar with, if they even were one. Plus he was in a suit. He had a clearly augmented right hand. Which made him even more suspicious. All augs were suspended from the force and public service after the Aug Incident.
"I doubt you're my lawyer," Pritchard said flatly.
"You're being transferred into Tarvos Security Services custody, Mr. Pritchard," he said. He didn't sit down, he just stood looming. The way he said Mister sounded like an insult.
"Fantastic," he grumbled. He held back the urge to talk back. "I can't wait." It was somewhat successful.
***
Obviously, Pritchard had no idea where they took him. They loaded him onto a VTOL with a squad of their special forces. He guessed they thought Jensen would somehow attack the transport.
That would be a bit extreme even for Jensen. He probably doesn't even know he's missing. That was the point of no contact. His lovely captors will probably send Jensen a message once they have him safely squirreled away.
The most Pritchard could deduce about his location came from what little he saw of the landscape when they unloaded him. The air was cold. He could see the hint of mountains past the high walls surrounding the landing pad. It wasn't the Pent House, the notorious aug prison. But it sure looked like a prison.
He'd been fairly cooperative out of a sense of self preservation. He just needed to stay calm and look for a way out. All that changed when they forced him into a scanner. An augment scanner. He had several that he kept neatly hidden on the back of his head. His long hair and preference for a ponytail easily hid them.
He knew what was coming next. A Suppression Chip.
He struggled and yelled "No!" when he saw the hand-held implantation device. He was shoved into a bulky neck brace built into a wall. It kept his head and neck still as they worked.
"Hold still," the guard behind him said in amusement. Pritchard's hair was roughly pulled out of the way, exposing the small round ports at the base of his skull. He heard a sound like a drill then a piercing pain shot through him.
"Uploading," another guard announced.
For a horrifying twenty seconds, he got to feel each augment inside his skull shut down. The most important of which was the infolink interface. No one can contact him and he can't contact anyone. His other augments felt like deadweight in his skull. Like a bit of himself just went numb.
And it hurt. The more he fought to keep his connections to his augments the more it felt like spikes driving into his brain. He screamed, he's not afraid to admit. It was worse than any migraine he'd ever experienced. It just seemed to be getting worse.
Then he passed out.
***
The next thing he knew, his own laptop was shoved in front of him.
"Contact him," ordered a man with TYM augmented arms. Bizarrely, he seemed to be in charge. That was rare to see these days.
Pritchard sighed. "This is horrible plan, you know."
"Contact him," he said again. His accent was vaguely British while the man had asian features. This led Pritchard to believe he was TYM and not Tarvos. Probably from TYM's home base in Hong Kong.
"Just so we're clear. By him, you mean Jensen?"
"Don't play dumb," he snapped.
"Alright... alright... what exactly do you want me to say? Sorry to bother you but I've been kidnapped by a not-so-mysterious organization? And you do realize he may not even pick up? He's not exactly a social butterfly."
"You can by-pass the usual channels," he said. He moved to stand behind him. One heavy augmented hand landed on his shoulder. The grip wasn't tight but it could be.
Pritchard went rigid under the pressure. He let out a breath and unlocked his laptop. It felt utterly bizarre to establish a connection without his implant. But he pinged Jensen's location. Still in Prague. Well... this will be a shit show. He pressed enter.
As soon as the connection went live, Pritchard started talking. "Yes, I know. Never ping your location. I'm sorry, I wasn't exactly given the choice," he said hastily.
It was the view of Jensen's apartment living room. It was either early morning or evening. "I told you--" Jensen stopped. He just bothered to look up at his TV. His eye shields were down. Pritchard got to see the split-second look on Jensen's face before his eye shields snapped back into place. It was... heart-rending. He wished he could unsee it.
The heavy hand on his shoulder moved to tightly grip Pritchard's jaw. The other hand settled on his head. He viscerally realized what he was threatening. He would break his neck. Pritchard closed his eyes and tried to remain calm but it did not stop the quiver of fear. This could be it. He could die right here in front of his only friend in the world. If that happened, at least he could be assured Jensen would spend the rest of his life dismantling their organization. Small comfort.
"What do you want?" Jensen asked in a deadly voice.
Pritchard kept his eyes closed. The best thing he can do right now is not move and not say anything. Most of all he wasn't going to look at Jensen. If this was the end he didn't want to see his horrified face before he died.
"We have a job for you, Mr. Jensen," he said. His augmented fingers flexed against his head. Pritchard tried not to flinch.
"Let go of him and we'll talk," Jensen replied.
The metal hands released him. Pritchard gasped for air, he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. He kept his eyes closed, he's not looking at Jensen like this. It was mostly irrational, he knew, but this felt like his fault.
"Take him," the augmented man said. Pritchard was roughly grabbed and pulled off the chair. "Don't worry, Mr. Jensen. I'll send you the direct intelicam footage of his cell."
That was the last thing he heard before he was dragged out of the room. He yelled in outrage once they had him in the hall. There's nothing he can do. They're going to use him make Jensen do God knows what.
By the time they threw him in his cell, his outrage turned to pure anger. They're using him and it's working. He uselessly beat his fists against the solid metal door of his cell.
Fuck, he should have told Jensen when he found those TYM emails. Maybe they could've had a backup plan ready. He thought his own security measures would be enough.
He remembered what they said about intelicam footage. He looked up and found the camera in the corner to his right. He glanced up at it and mouthed the words: 'I'm sorry, Adam.'
***
The connection cut and Adam stood there staring at the blank TV. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid. His life should be the only one put at risk.
When he finally moved, it was to wake up his computer. He found the promised intelicam feed coming through a secure channel. It wasn't something he could trace but maybe someone like ShadowChild can. If he can get to her without raising suspicions.
But provided it's not altered somehow, it was proof Frank was still alive. He saw him glance up at the camera and mouth something.
"It's not your fault, Francis," Adam replied, even though he couldn't hear him.
For now, he'll play along and gather what information he can. Their first little errand was just that. A test to see if he would follow orders.
The augmented man, who threatened to snap Frank's neck, gave his name as Cho. It wasn't anyone he recognized. He might be able to run a discrete check through TF29's databases. It would be nice to know who exactly has been pulling his strings.
The errand was something he could knock out in a couple hours. Get into the Palisade Bank, find the right private vault and take the prototype augment inside. This has to be the second or third time he's broken into Palisade in one way or another. If Pritchard's life wasn't on the line he might've enjoyed it.
Somewhat surprisingly, the prototype wasn't a weapon augment. He even double checked he had the right vault. It was a new type of artificial heart. Okay, fine. He'll steal a heart.
He set up a meeting to hand it over that same night. The faster he can move this along the better. The person he handed it off to knew even less than he did. His CASIE only confirmed that they'd never met Cho. They had no idea who they worked for. They were just there to accept the package.
Wonderful.
An unknown frequency pinged his infolink. "Cho," he said aloud when he accepted the connection.
"You work faster than I expected, Mr. Jensen," Cho said. "I'm sending you your next assignment."
"I need more than intelicam footage."
"Proof of life, of course. Come to Germany and we'll arrange something."
***
Pritchard was largely left alone in his cell. Food was regularly dropped off but that was the extent of contact with his captors. He attempted to ask for something to read at least.
Some old magazines were eventually shoved through the meal slot. They didn't even trust him with an e-book.
He knew how many days had passed, roughly, based on the meal times. The lights were left on 24/7 so that wasn't much help. After about two days, four guards came and escorted him to a shower room. He was handed a towel and change of generic prison clothes.
It wasn't even a surprise that they watched him in the shower too. He wanted to make some snide comments but bit his tongue. He just hurried through the whole process. A little smirk he got from one of the guards made him want to puke.
And now it was a relief to back in his cell. His boring cell with old magazines and a lumpy mattress.
The very fact he wasn't dead, meant Jensen was doing what he was told. That's almost worse. As touching as it was that he was willing to jump through hoops for him, he needed to stop.
He looked up at the intelicam and mouthed the words, 'Forget about me,' more than once. Jensen probably wouldn't listen if he saw it.
He estimated he'd been there three days. That's when guards came in and hit him with their shock sticks out of no where. They hauled him to his feet and pinned him to the wall. He was punched in the face before he could even yelp in pain. He was hit in the body next, knocking the air out of his lungs.
They stopped hitting him and he slowly realized why. It was a show.
Jensen isn't being a good lapdog. He choked out a small laugh. Good. Don't give them anything, Jensen.
The pause dragged on. The lead guard was clearly listening for orders on his infolink.
He brought a fist up in a threat for the camera. Whoever was on the other end of the infolink didn't get what they wanted. The fist came down hard against his head. It was hard enough his vision went white for a second.
Pritchard expected another hit but nothing happened. He glanced up, hoping Jensen hadn't just caved. He can take a beating, it's fine. Well, it's not fine but he'd rather be beaten than have Jensen be a puppet because of him.
The lead guard's face suddenly broke into a cruel smile. "Say again?" he asked aloud.
Pritchard got a sinking feeling. He struggled against the guards pinning his arms.
"With pleasure, sir," the guard replied aloud. The smile turned into a grin. Instead of hitting him again he grabbed him by the hair. He yanked his head back by the hair. "Your boyfriend's not playing nice, sweetheart," he said with false affection. That sinking feeling just got worse.
"Don't--" he managed to say right before his loose prison pants were shoved down. He immediately tried to kick the one responsible but his legs were still caught up in his pants.
The same guard that had a hold of his hair, grabbed hold of his balls to keep him still. "Now, you better start begging him to play nice," he said with the same fake affection.
Pritchard set his jaw. He is not playing their games. He glanced up at the camera and faintly shook his head.
Obviously, that wasn't what they wanted to see. Because a shooting pain went through his groin. His balls had been squeezed so tightly his legs gave way. He made a horrible sound as he tried to curl in on himself.
Then suddenly he was released and allowed to just crumple to the floor.
"I guess he really likes you," the lead guard said before he was left alone again.
Dammit, Jensen.
***
They wanted him to kill for them. Adam had expected as much. Aside from purely stealth missions it was the only other thing he was very good at.
He still tried to fight back against it. His usual bargaining method of finding a non-deadly way to achieve the same goal. He got away with it on the first person they asked him to kill.
It's not working for this one.
He was on a roof overlooking a small plaza. A German cybernetics and augmentation firm had their headquarters here. They were one of the few aug companies still standing. Barely.
TYM had been buying out their struggling competition. The guy they wanted dead was standing in the way of another acquisition. He didn't even need to dig to find that out. It was all over the local headlines.
"Do you need some encouragement?" Cho's voice had an amused edge to it.
"No, but I'll work faster if you give me a face-to-face."
"You'll work faster when I tell you to work faster."
Adam checked the intelicam footage he kept pinned in the corner of his HUD. Other than looking bored out of his mind, Pritchard was fine. That would change if he stalled much longer.
He found the roof access hatch and simply broke the padlock keeping it closed. From here the security would increase.
As soon as he has Pritchard's location he'll put an end to all of this, he reminded himself. He got a covert message out to ShadowChild before he left. He just needs to get through this.
Of course, he was careful not to be seen. But there was another reason, he had a feeling Cho would use any evidence he was there against him. Not right now, but later. When they don't have a use for him anymore. Pin the whole thing on an aug terrorist, him. That's why he refused Cho's offer of weapons. He'd source his own.
It was easy to locate his target. He was in the middle of meeting with other executives. Adam just needed to wait for them to finish.
"You're stalling." Cho's voice came through.
"I'm not killing him a room full of witnesses."
"They won't be witnesses if they're dead."
"That wasn't part of the deal," Adam countered.
Movement in the intelicam feed. Fuck. The guards entered his cell.
"That wasn't part of the deal!" he said again.
The intelicam feed had audio and he sometimes wished it didn't. 'Hello, sweetheart,' the guard he hated the most said. They started hitting him. He could tell Pritchard was trying to stay quiet. That made the sounds he did make all the more painful to hear.
"Cho!"
"The deal has changed."
Adam winced as a pained sound came through. Pritchard was on the ground. One of the guards stepped on his hand while others held him down. 'Ever break a finger, sweetheart?'
"Fuck," Adam said aloud. He forced himself to move. He'd already disabled the intelicams in the conference room and hallway outside it. He inserted a frag grenade into a mine template.
Pritchard couldn't stifle his cries of pain anymore. 'Tell your boyfriend to hurry up.' the guard said. Despite everything, Pritchard said 'Fuck you' back.
God damnit, Francis.
He approached the door and hesitated. He'll be killing five innocent people. Well, maybe not innocent but not outright evil.
A pitiful yelp and pained whimper spurred him into action. He flung the door open and toss the mine inside, right at the center of their table. He just barely missed getting caught in the explosion himself.
He paused just long enough to confirm they were really dead. One of them was still hanging on. He quickly extended his nanoblade into their throat. He was met with a wet choking sound before they died.
"It's done," he sent.
One of the guards kicked him in his stomach.
"Cho! It's done!"
A painfully long pause followed.
"Cho!"
The guards finally stopped. 'See you later, sweetheart.'
Adam had made it back to the roof. Once there, he dropped to his knees. He needed to move. But he can't. It felt like every muscle inside his chest had seized up. Even his augmented limbs felt immoveable.
'Jensen,' Pritchard's voice sounded rough. 'You need to stop them.'
"I know," Adam replied even though he wouldn't hear him.
'Forget about me. Please.'
"I can't."
***
It became a daily occurrence. The guards would come in and threaten him. Sometimes with their guns. Sometimes with their fists. Sometimes with rape.
Whatever they were forcing Jensen to do, they thought he needed daily 'encouragement.'
Each time they backed off he felt torn. It meant Jensen gave in. While, yes, it's still very touching that he cares, he can't keep playing their games. Jensen has to know that.
Pritchard had to try to do everything he could to escape. While he knows Jensen will try to find him, he's not going to just sit here. He's not some damsel in distress. And besides what if Jensen died? Would they just kill him too? Or worse?
He slowly formed the outline of a plan. The guard most eager to threaten rape, he kept his keycard inside his tactical vest. Since he was the one most likely to get close to him, he's the one he should target. Maybe he can find a way to distract him and slip his hand in.
It's true he wouldn't have many places to hide it. And it wouldn't be any good to him while he's in his cell. The best option was breaking away when they took him to the shower room.
He's been paying attention to the layout. He saw two narrow opportunities. The would quickly realize he's gone. So who knows how far he'd get after that. He's no Adam Jensen but he's spent his fair share crawling through vents and by-passing guards. Granted those times were abandoned buildings or minimally secure data centers. The abandoned buildings being the more dangerous of the two.
"Oh, look, it's time for my daily harassment," he muttered as he heard guards outside his door. He glanced up at the camera and sighed. This meant Jensen would be watching. "You shouldn't let them control you, Jensen," he said. He was 80% sure they were sending audio as well as video. "Forget about me and take them down," he growled up at the camera. "But you just have to be the hero, don't you?"
The door opened. Pritchard stood and backed himself to the far wall. The usual group of four guards entered.
"Hey, sweetheart, happy to see us?" the lead guard asked mockingly.
"Oh, just thrilled," Pritchard responded sarcastically. "The highlight of my day." He already had his hands up. The lead guard likes to get up close and threaten him. Which could give him an opportunity to swipe the card from him. He might need to provoke him.
"Aw, I missed you too," he said with a sneer. "Your boyfriend needs more encouragement, sweetheart." He held out his shock stick towards him. The other guards flanking him stepped forward. They quickly took control of his arms and shoved his back to the wall. They could've just cuffed him but they wanted to make a show of it.
He was hit with the shock stick first. His entire body seized up. Pain ripped through him from the contact point to every inch of his body. The guards holding him were the only reason he was upright.
"He's being stubborn today," the lead guard informed him. "He wants to see you in person but that's not gonna happen. You know what that means?" he asked rhetorically. "I get to whatever I want to you."
Pritchard just needed to focus on getting that card. It doesn't matter what he does to him as long as he gets close. At least he doesn't need to provoke him.
He strode up to him, crowding his space, forcing Pritchard to flatten himself against the wall. Intimidation tactics. Once again, he grabbed a fist full of Pritchard's hair and forced his head back. He felt the man's breath against his neck and tried not to show any reaction.
He knew what was coming. It was hard not to, the lead guard practically told him every day. He wanted to fuck him. Some kind of macho power trip.
Lips touched his neck and Pritchard froze. He wasn't prepared for gentle. He hated himself for the little shiver that went through him.
"Oh, you like that, do you?" the man said against his ear.
Pritchard tried to twist free but the hands on him only tightened their grasps. "Don't touch me," he growled out. Not that he thought that would work, he just needed to express how much he did not want this.
The lead guard ground himself between Pritchard's legs. Of course that creep was hard. The more disturbing thing was that he was trying to get him hard too. He used just enough pressure to get Pritchard's dick to respond. He felt utterly sick as he realized what he was doing. He wants him to enjoy it.
"I see why he likes you," the man said. His mouth went to a spot where jaw meets neck. He was being so bizarrely gentle. It made him shiver again. He's never hated his body more than in that moment.
The man ground into him harder then let out a frustrated sound. He pushed off of him. "Fuck! Can't let me have any fun."
A horrible feeling washed over Pritchard as he vividly remembered Jensen has seen this.
"Fun's over," the lead said to the other guards.
He was left alone again. He curled up on his bunk with his back turned to the camera.
***
Adam couldn't take this. It was a living nightmare. They've been asking him to do more and more questionable things. Cho seemed to enjoy hearing him grow more panicked.
Grabbing Frank to use against him is as bad or worse than if it were Megan. And like Megan he's not going to just do nothing. Although, he would probably do this for anyone he knew, if he's being honest. This just... hurts more.
He knows why it hurts more. He knows damn well why it hurts more.
After Alaska, he was so close to listening to him. So close to building a different life. The kind of life where everyone's assumption they were together wouldn't be wrong. It was stupid because he was sure it was one-sided.
The intelicam feed was torture. The only comfort was promising himself he would remove the hands of each of them before he killed them. Because he will kill them. No matter what happens.
He has to find them first.
He was able to get a message out to ShadowChild before heading to Germany. Pritchard might grumble about her but she was one of the few people he was close to. Even if it was just in the virtual space.
It took more time than either of them wanted but she pinpointed the location. Despite the fact Pritchard's G-P-L tracker was dead. She had to do a more complicated backtrace through the intelicam meta data. Plus backtacing the supposedly secure infolink connection with Cho. More than one data point, she said, proves its the right location.
Apparently she recruited a few other hackers to help with it too. She didn't give them details, or let them see the footage, she just gave them the problem to solve.
Regardless, Jensen had a location and now he just needed to get to it without raising any suspicions. ShadowChild cloned his G-P-L to make it look like he was doing what he was told.
The location was a Belltower hand-me-down black site. Tarvos ran it now. It was tucked into the mountains. In one of those places everyone likes to agree doesn't exist. Getting there was a challenge but at least it was still on the continent.
When he called in his favor with Alex, she was more than happy to help. Especially if it meant exposing another black site to the world. But she understood too. There are some people you just don't leave behind.
Going in: she would bring the VTOL in low and drop him just outside their air defense range. Going out: if he can disable their air defenses she can pick them right from their helipad.
He's at the going in stage. Just dropped off and making his way through the maze of boulders and pine trees. Usually when he prepares for missions he favors non-lethal ordnance with a lethal back-up option. He didn't even bother packing either the tranq rifle or stun gun. The only non-lethal thing he had was a gas grenade. He brought both combat rifle and side-arm. Both fully equipped with suppressers.
Just as he reached the facility, there was movement in the intelicam footage. The guards came in. This wasn't the usual pattern. Cho hadn't contacted him with a demand. They cuffed him and led him out of the cell. They already took him to the showers today. This is something else.
Adam had to move quick. They might be on to him. He made it in through some sort of receiving area. Yeah, this place was definitely used as a prison. He recognized the augment scanner and the tool on a near by cart. They install suppression chips here. That explains why Frank's G-P-L was dead. It also made Adam's feeling of dread grow.
***
Something was very wrong and Pritchard knew it. They never take him out of that cell for anything but the shower room. They almost never cuff him either. It's pointless, he can't do anything with no less than four guards were on him at all times.
He was led into a room with a single cot in it. He realized what was going on and tried to back out of the room. That just got him shoved further into the room. His heart was trying to thump out of his chest. "A little cliche, isn't it?" he managed to say without sounding too concerned.
"I tried for something better, sweetheart," the lead guard said in a way that he couldn't tell if he was joking. "But the boss has no sense of romance."
"Romance?" Pritchard almost choked on the word. This is absurd.
"I'll treat you better than that clank can," he said in an oddly sweet voice.
Pritchard instinctively backed away, not that he had anywhere to go. His wrists were cuffed behind his back, which made his front feel entirely too exposed. And never mind that he and Jensen have never slept together.
"C'mon, sweetheart, no time to be shy..." he said. Like usual, he went straight for his hair. He grabbed him and shoved him toward the cot. "Just lay back and enjoy yourself."
He was shoved onto his back. He twisted and struggled. He managed to kick the lead guard off him. A shame he just hit his chest. The other guards got involved then. One of them punched him while another wrapped a length of rope around his neck. The rope was attached to the metal frame of the cot. Now he'd choke himself if he struggled too much.
He yelled and thrashed as much as he could. He might not be able to stop them but he is going to make this easy. "Let go of me!"
"Oh, calm down now. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," the lead guard said in a mocking tone. He had straddled Pritchard's thighs. And yet again, this creep took a fist-full of his hair, using it to help hold him still.
With his other hand the creep pushed up Pritchard's shirt to his chin. The rough texture of the man's gloves scraped over his skin. He teased at each of his nipples. Then the hand traced down and pushed down his pants. The same rough texture now stroked at his cock. If this was anywhere else, with anyone else, he might've liked it.
Disgust had kept him from getting hard but persistent attention was coaxing it out of him. It was humiliating. He turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut.
The lead guard, the creep, removed his gloves. His hands were warm and gentle despite how rough he was with everything else. Gentle made it worse. His body was more eager to respond.
***
"You haven't been playing by the rules, Mr. Jensen," Cho's voice came through the infolink.
Adam hesitated briefly. Did he know he was here? Is that why he's not in his cell? They're moving him? "I done everything you asked," he replied.
"Yes, you did an excellent job. I see you've been trying to locate him," Cho said. That was a mild relief. He doesn't know Adam's already here. If he did he'd already have a gun to Pritchard's head.
"I don't see him on the intelicam. Where is he?" Adam pressed. He was still moving forward through the facility. He pulled a map off a security workstation. It didn't tell him where he was but now he can methodically search.
"He's being treated quite well. He has you to thank for that. You've done everything we've asked," Cho said smugly. "Consider this a soft correction." The intelicam footage shuddered and switched to a different feed. Three guards with one of them on top of him.
***
It didn't hurt. It would have been better if it hurt. The creep was forcing Pritchard to enjoy it. He carefully prepped him with an excessive amount of lube.
He wanted to scream as felt his cock sink into him. Instead of screaming, he gritted his teeth and growled, "Get off me!"
"Don't be like that, sweetheart," the creep said. He roughly thrust fully inside him.
Pritchard held back any sound that could be mistaken for pleasure. Even if his body is enjoying this, his mind is most certainly not.
***
Adam had had enough. Every encounter, every take-down became a lethal one. It ran a higher risk of him being detected but it was the fastest way.
This is a rare time where he wants them to know it was him when the dust settles. Let them see what happens when you go after people he cares about. He'll rip through every last person in this place if he has to.
***
"You feel so good..." the creep moaned. He really was fucking him now. A fact that made him feel sick on a new level. Especially when tiny specks of pleasure came from it.
Pritchard hadn't given up struggling but now he struggled in a different way. Thrashing and twisting would just make the creep like it more. He focused on being absolutely still and physically unresponsive. For his own sanity at least. "I hope your dick falls off," he grated out.
Unfortunately, the creep only laughed at that. He leaned further forward. His breath came heavy against his neck. "You're gonna love it when I'm done," he said with false affection.
A sudden beautiful sound of a wall shattering filled the room. Jensen.
Everything happened so quickly after that. There was yelling. Gunshots. The absolutely wonderful sound of nanoblades slicing through bodies. Pritchard didn't see most of it. It happened in the split second when his eyes were still closed.
But what he did see, was the creep being torn off him and flung against a wall. A projectile blade pinning him in place. Jensen was on him a milliseconds later. He sunk a blade straight into the man's groin. He stared the creep down as he screamed. A second later, Jensen's other blade went through his skull silencing him.
Pritchard had already gotten on to his side at this point. He didn't have time to feel ashamed. "You're late!" he yelled.
Jensen simply broke the handcuffs restraining him. He mumbled a 'I'm sorry' so heartbreaking genuine Pritchard wished he hadn't said anything.
"It's fine. It's fine. Let's just get out of here," he told him in a more subdued voice. He quickly pulled his clothing back on. He probably should have wiped some of that lube off but he just wanted out.
***
Adam finally got the chance to look him over once they were in the VTOL and safely in the air. Pritchard grudgingly allowed it. He had bruising from the previous beatings. A split lip. Scrapes. No obvious broken bones. Adam didn't inquire or look lower.
Pritchard gave him a strange look then said, "You're bleeding."
"Shit..." he looked down to a hole in his vest. He knew Sentinel was working overtime but he thought it stopped all the bleeding. He grabbed gauze from the open medkit and pressed it into the wound.
"Idiot..." Pritchard grumbled. He rudely took over securing the bandage in place.
"Where are we going?" Pritchard asked with a sigh. He sounded and looked exhausted.
"Prague. It's... uh, closest," Adam hesitantly said.
"Where was I?"
"Russia."
Pritchard let out a humorless laugh. "Of course, why not?"
They fell into silence until Pritchard spoke again. "Your apartment?"
"What?"
"That's where we're going?"
"We can get you a room--"
"Apartment's fine."
***
They could've looked for a way to remove the chip before leaving but Pritchard just wanted out of there. He'll find someone to dig it out later. This wasn't the most rational decision, he'll admit. He didn't like the heavy feeling of dead augs in his head.
Jensen mentioned two possibilities for removal. He could take him to TF29 or to Koller, the guy Jensen goes to for his augs. The second one being in the shades of grey for legality. That's something he can think about tomorrow.
When they got to Jensen's apartment, Pritchard went straight for the shower. He felt utterly disgusting. He went to close the door but stopped half way. A sudden spike of anxiety stopped him. Trapped. He glanced back at the rest of the room. It's the same size as that fucking cell.
He let out a slow breath and left the door cracked. It's fine, he told himself. Jensen is out there, he'd cut down anyone that conceivably come after him.
The shower was a relief. On several levels. He concentrated on the fact it had normal water pressure, reliable temperature controls and did not smell of bleach. It just smelled like soap and fabric softener.
Which reminds him. He glanced over to the washer and dryer with clothes piled up around them. He'll steal some of Jensen's clothes when he's done. No way in hell is he putting those grey prison clothes back on.
He continued the shower, resolutely not thinking about what happened right before Jensen found him. He's not going to break down over this. Especially around Jensen.
***
Adam went straight for his whiskey as soon as Pritchard was in the shower.
Even though it was technically successful, that was a disaster. He should have been faster. Pritchard didn't deserve that.
He threw back a glass. The Sentinel was heavily taxed repairing injuries so he actually got to enjoy the alcohol for longer than a minute. Well, enjoy is a strong word. He could use it as a distraction for longer than a minute.
"Fuck," he mumbled. He looked down at the now empty glass. He had the urge to throw it across the room. He didn't but the glass did crack under his tight grip. He set it aside in the sink.
Pritchard opted to come to his apartment when he could have gotten a room anywhere. It did make Adam feel a bit better, he knew exactly where he was. Even if this was awkward as hell.
What do you even say about something like this?
"Your turn," Pritchard said. His hair was still damp and sticking to his forehead. He was dressed in some of Adam's clothes, which didn't look out of place on him. There wasn't much of a height difference between them.
Adam nodded and offered the bottle of whiskey to him when he passed. He took it with an amused sound.
***
Pritchard thought about it but he didn't have any of the whiskey. He set it down on the kitchen counter. He did go for the packet of cigarettes though. Only one left. He found a lighter on the coffee table.
Fuck. Of all the ways he could've ended up in Adam Jensen's apartment.
But still, he'd rather be here than alone in a hotel room somewhere.
He took a drag off the cigarette and sat down. No-contact didn't do them any favors. That wasn't even the worst case scenario Pritchard could think of. Aside from just being dead.
The big question was whether he'd need to uproot or was that trail of bodies enough of a deterrent? He's a little low on places to go.
He heard Jensen come out of the bathroom.
"Before you the pull the whole 'you can have the bed' cliche. I don't care where I sleep. Even your floor would be more comfortable than where I was," Pritchard said. He didn't bother to turn to look at him.
"I could've asked what side of the bed you wanted, Francis," he replied. His tone was more like their usual banter which put him more at ease. He huffed out a small laugh.
"The left side, if you're wondering," he replied, half jokingly. He did prefer the left side generally. Or whatever side was furthest from the door.
"All yours," Jensen came into view. He hadn't bothered with a shirt.
"I suppose you'll be blaming yourself for all this?"
He sat down on the opposite side of the couch and shrugged. "I know who's really to blame."
"Yeah, me," Pritchard gestured to himself with the same hand the held the cigarette.
"What? No," Jensen said in a startled voice.
"I found out months ago, Jensen! It read like a bad joke. I didn't take it seriously and I should have."
"Wait, what exactly did you find out?"
"I had a job. By-pass some firewalls and retrieve some data for my client. It was the North American branch TYM. I found some e-mails," Pritchard paused to take a long drag on the cigarette. "Someone in the company thought we were a thing. Despite the literal ocean between us. They wanted to 'use the boyfriend as leverage.' Most of the replies dismissed the idea."
Jensen leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "But there was nothing new connecting us..."
"I know! That was the whole idea of no-contact!" Pritchard gestured animatedly. "We can't be a thing if we don't talk."
Jensen went from looking at the ground in front of him to looking directly at him. His expression looked like he went through several emotions at once. "Francis... what are you saying?"
"What do you mean what am I saying?" He gestured again. Jensen can't possibly be that dense. "We're not a thing on purpose! As long as you're on your little crusade you can't afford to have what just happened happen. But it fucking happened anyway!" Pritchard collapsed back into the couch. He let out a frustrated sigh and held the cigarette out to Jensen.
Jensen accepted the cigarette with his own frustrated sigh. "Ruining the chances of a future thing."
Pritchard crossed his arms. "I didn't say that. If anything we might as well," he said in a more subdued voice.
"We might as well," Adam repeated back in a distant tone.
"Don't go jumping at the chance," he commented sarcastically.
He gave him a sharp look in response. "You've just been through hell."
"Yes, and I'd rather be touched by someone who doesn't make my skin crawl. You do still know how to do that, right?"
Adam looked down at his hands, flexing them. A faint whirr as he engaged every joint. "It won't feel the same as normal hands."
"Obviously," he responded dryly. "It's fine if you're not interested."
"No! I'm interested! Believe me Francis, I'm interested," he said with a rougher edge to his voice. "You know I haven't been with anyone since the augs. I don't know how... good... I'll be."
"Jensen," Pritchard started then let out laugh. "Adam, my expectations could not be lower. I don't care." He grabbed one of Adam's wrists. He pulled him closer and put Adam's hand on his thigh. "There! You're already better than expected."
Adam looked startled for a second then his face started to soften. "You're insulting your way into my pants? Really, Francis?" he asked. The tone of voice was a relief, he was back to sounding relaxed.
"I wouldn't need to if--" he was cut off. Adam had moved and started kissing him. He surprised himself a little with how quickly he pushed back into the kiss. So much so he felt the split in his lip start to reopen. He decided he didn't care.
His artificial hands and arms actually felt surprisingly natural around him. They weren't cold. A little warmer than human body temperature if fact. Augs tend to run hot, even with extensive cooling systems built in.
The most remarkable thing Pritchard found was how pliant Adam was being. Not passive, but going where ever he pushed him. Which is how Pritchard ended up on top of him.
***
On spectrum of what Adam thought would happen tonight, this wasn't even on it. Even if it was, he wouldn't have thought Francis would be interested in doing anything after what happened to him.
They had started on the couch. Then ended up on the floor when Frank lost his balance trying to get his own pants off. They didn't fall so much as slide off the couch while trying to catch each other.
Francis propped an arm up on the coffee table. "Okay," he said a little breathlessly. "We're going to the bed."
"Before you reconsider this," Adam said as they both got up.
"Ha! Me? Oh, no," he said. He pointed at him as he walked back to the bedroom. "This is your bad decision. I take no responsibility for this."
"How is it..." he gave up on the argument by the time they got to the bedroom. It doesn't matter. Francis is here and safe.
They were on the bed in seconds. Adam ended up on top this time. He went from kissing him to sucking on his neck. Unlike the pained sounds he'd be tortured with for the past week, he got to hear a needy whimper. Francis brought a hand up to hold him there. Okay, he'll keep doing things to his neck.
Frank's other hand ran down his back. It made him shiver just to have skin on skin contact. It's been a long time but he didn't expect to react so strongly. Everywhere he touched felt like trails of warm tingling.
Adam switched to the other side of his neck. It got a shuddering exhale out of him. He trailed his own hands down his body. In a strange way, they're actually more sensitive than his original hands. Feeding him extra information like heart rate and body temperature. Extra helpful when he's trying to avoid the clusters of bruises.
***
Francis picked up pretty quickly that Adam reacted very strongly to sounds. He was more inclined to let himself make noise because of it. Just a little sound in his throat and Adam chased after whatever caused it.
He hooked his fingers in Adam's waistband. He remembered office gossip about how much of him is him down there. It was stupid conjecture. But it looks like he'll be the one to find out. Him, the person who cared the least about what was in Jensen's pants.
Adam actually gasped when his fingers brushed against his still hidden erection. That set something off inside Francis, he shoved Adam onto his back. The startled look also did something to him. He yanked his pants down.
Once he got his hand around Adam's cock, he realized what was going on. Adam was actually trembling. He hasn't had a natural hand on him since the augs.
"Just... hold still," Francis told him.
"Easy for--" His breathing shuddered, "Easy for you to say."
He slowly ran his hand up and down his length. It was already starting to drip. He rubbed his thumb over it to spread it around the head. Jensen made a wounded sound in response. Someone could be forgiven for thinking he hurt him.
"I... uh," Francis started, "I was considering having you fuck me. But--" he rubbed his thumb between the glans. "I really don't think you'll survive the experience, Jensen."
Adam pushed himself up on his elbows. He looked like he was barely holding it together. He half expected him to argue. Instead he asked, "What do you suggest, Francis?" in a rough voice.
"Well..." he started to answer then stopped. He locked eyes with him and lowered his head. He drew his tongue against up the underside of his cock. He kept his eyes locked on him. So he got to see the very second he lost control. Adam whined as he came. Thick ropes of cum shot out. Nearly hitting him in the face.
Francis felt a rush of power with it. He barely had to do anything to get him. Has he always been this easy or is it just him? Or was it just skin contact?
"I'm sure it happens to everyone..."
He groaned in response. He slowly got himself to move again. He gestured for him to come closer. When he did, one of his hands grazed over the side of his face. Despite the inorganic material it felt surprisingly natural. Maybe it was the very human movement. Adam wrapped his arms around him and held on tight.
Francis was both surprised and not surprised by the action. If this was the Jensen he thought he knew from a couple weeks ago, it would be surprising. This Jensen was forced to watch everything that happened to him. A thought he'd put out of his mind because it hurt too much to think about. Along with what happened to him.
Adam buried his face against his neck. He could feel the v shaped part of his eye shield aug against his neck by his ear. Francis put a hand on the back of Adam's head. If this was anyone else he'd expect them to start crying. But he's fairly certain Adam physically can't cry due to his artificial eyes.
"Jensen?"
"I should have been faster," he mumbled against his neck.
It took a second to understand what he meant. He meant faster in finding him. "You showed up," he gently, "I told you to forget about me."
"I can't," was his strangled reply.
Francis pulled back to look at him. He was blinking like someone who'd been crying but there were no tears. "I..." he trailed off then took a breath. "I didn't know," was all he could get out.
"I didn't tell you," Adam said and moved out from under him.
"Well, obviously... What? Did it just slip your mind?"
"Maybe I didn't want to feed your ego," Adam prodded back. He got off the bed then grabbed him by the hips to pull him to the edge of the bed.
He put up with being moved, grudgingly. He shot him annoyed look. He could just ask him to move. "My ego? That's your excuse? As if I would want anyone to know. You're not that impressive..." he countered sarcastically.
"Right..." Adam said with a smirk. He knelt down between his legs.
Francis struggled to maintain his put-on indifference. His breathing just picked up for no reason. Adam's hands went up his thighs and he forced himself to look away. The first touch against his cock almost got a sound out of him. He clamped a hand over his mouth to keep in a pathetic squeak of a sound. Nope, Jensen is unimpressive. Why would any want that?
"What's the matter, Francis?" the smug asshole asked.
He refused to answer, even when he felt his breath against him. Finger tips lightly traced up and down his cock. It sent a strong shiver through him.
Adam laughed lightly.
"Shut up."
"For you? Anything," he said managing to sound both sincere and joking. Then he moved forward.
Francis made the mistake of looking at him. He saw him looking up at him just as he drew the head of his cock. Fuck. He gave up pretending disinterest. His hands went to the back of Adam's head and dug into his hair.
Like before, he responded to the sounds he made. When he ran his tongue over a spot that made him moan, he went back to it. He drew him in a bit further then pulled back to just suck on the head.
"Adam--" he choked. Then Adam pushed forward swallowing as much of him as he could. He brought his hands up to Francis' hips to pull him in further. His cock hit the back of his throat. He shuddered in place, he'd had blow jobs before but no one actually took him that deep. He dug his fingers into the back of his head. His breathing came in gasps.
Adam made a pleased sound below him. Then the sound turned into a sustained hum. A normal person would have pulled back for air by now. He isn't a normal person. Not that he doesn't need to breathe but he can rely on his implanted rebreather as long as he has a good biocell charge.
His hips twitched but Adam's hands held them firmly in place. Stuck in place Frank made a very needy sound. He was so close. Adam pulled back a little then pushed back in. That was it. Francis choked on a sound as he came in his throat.
Another pleased sound came from Adam. He slowly pulled off of him. He took a second to swallow the excess of salvia before speaking. "Not that impressive?" the smug asshole said.
"You..." He should hit him. He didn't but he did pull on his hair. "You... could've..." He struggled to get his breathing under control. "Could've done better."
"I can see how many times you can come in an hour," Adam suggested.
"No, no!" Francis said hastily. He's not ready for that. "I'm--" he shook his head, "Later."
"Later," Adam agreed. He nudged him back on to the bed and followed him.
"I'm on the left side," he observed absently.
"I said it was yours," Adam mumbled as he put an arm around him.
"You did..."