feel the eyes of someone looking in on you... - ChangeTheCirc*mstances (2024)

Chapter 1: A Curious Shadow

Chapter Text

Jill Tuck watched the unfamiliar person get up and leave. She’d been trying to decide whether or not she should confront him. The story had just broke. Leaked by someone on the force or something. Just a few days had passed. The police were still tracking down John’s location and already fanatics and crazies were showing up. People who for better or worse were obsessed with the games and the idea of the sinful being put to the test. The man inside the clinic had stuck out like a sore thumb. Too clean. Well kept. No clear, physical marks on the skin or deepened lines that showed a chemical abuse of his body. He’d sat too still. Too comfortably.

And those eyes…

They’d been dark. Practically black in the light of the waiting room.

“The young man that was sitting there,” Jill said to one of her nurses. “Did he say anything when he came in?”

“Hmm? Oh, with the black hair right? Short and curly? No, he just sat down. I was thinking of going to tell him he needed to fill out a form. He seemed nervous. Looking everywhere like he was. He left fairly quickly.”

Jill glanced back to the empty chair. Nothing on that man’s face had read as nervous. “If you see him again, please come and get me.”

“Oh. Of course Ms. Tuck.”

Jill walked away before the woman could ask anymore questions. She’d once thought this was all she had left. Now, she wondered if she even had that if people obsessed with Jigsaw were coming and going like they were f*cking sightseeing.

“Hey, where’s my rent?”

“I don’t actually live here–”

“I don’t care if you were classmates for a semester and you’re here to get your f*cking pencil back,” the landlord interrupted. “He’s been gone for over a week and rent’s been due five days now. Where’s my f*cking money?!”

The landlord didn’t expect much. Really, he expected the kid to cave under the pressure and his larger frame. The guy looked barely twenty, if even that. He was happy to simply take whatever money was in the kid’s wallet. He shoved him hard in the shoulder. Just to better get the point across that he wasn’t f*cking around and expected something if the kid wanted to get out of this unscathed. He kept his frame in front of the stairs. Blocking the only exit besides the locked door into the apartment.

Only the kid barely reacted as his body thudded against the wall. He slowly took his wallet out and flipped through the bills. He threw them at the landlord’s feet. “There. I think that about covers a sh*thole like this.” He turned, pulled out a key, and unlocked the door.

If the actual tenant had acted like that, the landlord would have given him a piece of his mind. But something about this kid…

He rationalized it away. Told himself that he was going easy on the kid when in reality, something about those dark, black eyes had truly unsettled him. If only to boost his own ego for a moment, the landlord yelled out, “You tell your friend Adam that if he’s not on time next month, he’s out of here?! You hear me! And he’s not supposed to be giving his keys to people who ain’t tenants!”

The kid paused just before closing the door. His lips twisted into an amused smile. Like he knew something the landlord didn’t. “I’ll make sure to tell him.”

And with that, the door clicked shut.

“f*ckin’ youths,” the landlord growled. It was bad enough he had to deal with ungrateful little sh*ts like this day in and day out. Now on top of that, half the city was on a manhunt for some crazed serial killer that was making headlines. What the f*ck was this world coming to?

They didn’t suspect Amanda’s involvement. The game, her game, hadn’t even begun. Though plenty of steps had been taken to further prepare and set it up. For now, she still had her freedom. She was utilizing it to the best of her ability. Getting what John needed. Showing him how much more devoted and diligent she was compared to Hoffman–

Someone was following her.

She waited until she was out of the store before suddenly dropping the tools in the bag. They clattered to the ground. Metal clanging against metal and slamming into concrete. Her fingers came around the kid’s shirt before slamming him against the nearest brick wall. It didn’t matter that she was shorter than him. She was about to give this little sh*t a piece of her–

Her throat closed up. Fear mixed with guilt and desperation began to choke up her windpipe–

She lifted the kid off the wall and slammed him back into the brick. Both to shake him and to shake herself from the delusion. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t. This guy was definitely younger. Hair more wavy or even curly. Neither were his eyes green.

It wasn’t Adam. It wasn’t. He was dead. He was gone. She’d done what she could. She’d ended his torment. Amanda slammed the guy against the wall again. He could have stopped her. He was skinny but muscled with a clear height advantage. The fact that he wasn’t fighting back put her even more on edge.

“Why the hell are you following me? You some cop?”

“Not really.”

She jostled him again. “That isn’t a f*cking no.”

“What can I say? There’s not many survivors around. I was curious.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What? You some f*cking groupie?”

“I was curious.”

“Yeah, well you know what they say about curiosity little kitty?” hissed Amanda. She slammed him against the wall again. This time doing it in a way that cracked the kid’s head against the brick. He blinked in a slight, stunned daze. “Find another hobby you f*cking puss*!” She shoved him to the side. He stumbled, but didn’t fall. “I don’t want to see you again you f*cking c*nt!”

She quickly moved. Her hand launched out. She scrambled on the ground, pulling a metal pipe from the bag of tools and materials. She raised it over her head, but the kid only put his hands up. “Ok. Ok. I’ll leave. Sorry to bother you.”

Amanda jolted slightly. One last threat as the kid finally turned and left. It wasn’t the first time people had bothered her about her victimhood. It was the first one that had felt like something more than a nosey f*cking reporter looking for a gruesome story. She shook off the creeps the kid had given her. She was on a tight schedule after all. There was the game to play.

Mark Hoffman’s eyes narrowed. He’d simply been running in to grab some coffee before work, but that kid…

Why did he look so familiar?

He stopped at the table before heading out. “Hey. Do I know you?”

“Hey, Hoffman. Right? Detective Hoffman now? Congratulations.”

The kid had an easy going smile and crinkle to his eyes. Mark narrowed his own.

“I don’t blame you for not recognizing me. There were a bunch of cadets asking questions.”

It finally clicked. Mark eased up slightly. “You’re from the academy. What was it? Youngest in the class. Right?”

The kid seemed to beam at being remembered. “That’s right.”

Mark had gone as a favor. Having graduated from the same academy and still being familiar with many of the people who ran it. But the police academy wasn’t housed in this city. It was a good four hour drive away. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“We’re on break right now. I’m visiting family. Do you have any family in town, detective?”

“No.” No, Mark didn’t. Not anymore. And if he didn’t know any better, that question had been more than a casual inquiry. “It was good seeing you-sorry. It was…”

The kid laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not insulted,” he chuckled. “There were a lot of students there. William. William Schenk.”

“Well, good seeing you again William. I’ll make sure to remember the name this time. Take care.”

Mark left. He would definitely make sure to remember the kid’s name. He was already planning on giving some of his former teachers a call. It was probably nothing. At least nothing particularly special. Plenty of f*cked up people for f*cked up reasons were attracted to police work and other positions of power.

Still, something about that kid just hadn’t felt right. Familiar but not.

Adam was dying.

Dead.

Dying.

Choking.

Bleeding.

Drowning.

Being dragged.

Rolled over.

Coughing.

Still dying.

But not dead.

Barely a single, coherent thought was coming to Adam. Just desperate hope and relief and fear. Was he being saved? Had Lawrence come back for him? Lawrence?! Lawrence, please!?

Pain.

Filth.

Cold.

Burning up.

He wanted to live. He had lived! He’d survived until the end! Help! Help! He wanted out!

Something wet passed his lips. He coughed. Begged. No. No more. Please!

More pain.

Still cold.

Still burning up.

The smell was different. Bad, but not the smell of the actual sh*thole he was in. Had been in. A familiar voice. Loud. Distant. An annoying piece of sh*t.

Aches and spattered blood.

Filtered in light.

And then, finally Adam grew more awake and aware than he had been in over a week.

His eyes moved over familiar walls. It was a sh*thole.

But it wasn’t an actual sh*thole.

It was his sh*thole. With a pissy f*cking landlord and peeled paint and faulty electrical wiring. That was who he must have heard. The landlord yelling at someone for being late on rent or breaking an appliance. For a split second, the scene made Adam wonder if the whole thing had been a dream. He’d never even met Larry. Not face to face, anyways. He’d get up, grab his camera, go stalk the guy, go answer another call to find some skeeving husband or drugged up employee. Take some pictures. Come back here. It had all been a dream. Maybe Jigsaw wasn’t even real.

Then, Adam moved. He cried out. The pain came back in. His ribs ached. His stomach felt like he was eating itself from the inside out. There was a throbbing in his head and a throbbing in his ankle. His body felt sticky. He slightly rolled over. A whimper escaped his lips–

His eyes landed on an unfamiliar face.

A kid? No. No, he looked a bit older than that. At least college age. Adam shivered. The last memory he had of his apartment was being attacked by a thing in a pig faced mask. There was no mask, but any momentary hope of safety was already gone. He tried to speak, but the words only came out as croaking, broken noises.

Somehow, the guy understood him. The lips twisted upwards into a smile. He looked like any normal, functioning member of society. Adam understood better than most that a lot could be hidden behind a perfectly crafted smile.

“You can call me William. It’s good to finally meet you, Adam.”

Chapter 2: A Look on the Inside

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When William told the school counselor his goals after high school, she’d given him a shocked look. Pity had quickly followed.

“A cop?” she’d murmured. “You’re smart, William. Your grades in math and physics are particularly stellar. What about some kind of engineering degree?”

Her words had pissed William off. She didn’t get it. She didn’t understand. He needed to find him. To be with him. The man who’d given him his life. Whose face constantly broke into his thoughts and dreams. A good man. The one truly good person he knew. His friend. His protector. A man who was alone with no one to watch his back. The system wouldn’t protect him. He needed him. William had to pay him back somehow. What better way to get close to him than this? To be his partner?

Only the counselor hadn’t understood. She’d murmured, “I can understand. Wanting to fix something that ruined your life from the inside. Are you hoping to find yourself in a reversed situation? To be able to prevent a child from going through what you went through?”

His reaction had shocked her. Angry. Confused. She didn’t understand. No one did. No one would. There was a reason William rarely spoke about his goals and aspirations with people. He’d made that mistake once. With a court appointed therapist when he’d been placed in the foster system. The clinical man had called his goals an obsession. Dangerous. That he was trying to find meaning in what happened when he needed to accept that it had been a cruel, senseless act. That he needed to heal and move on and stop thinking of the cop who’d saved him.

What f*cking bullsh*t that had been. The therapist had only made William double down. To craft a perfect image. The image of what people wanted to see. It had been a good learning moment. Showing him what could be shared and what he should keep to himself. Similarly, the counselor proved useful as well. Because despite her assumption being completely off the mark, her words had later given him thoughts. Ideas.

To make the system better. Was that even possible? Maybe. To force it into a place worthy of the man who had kept him safe and hidden and who William was determined to find again. A few good cops working on the inside wouldn’t save it though. It wouldn’t save one city or a county. It might lead to one boy not growing up fatherless, but it wouldn’t last. Not with the pieces of sh*t, some straight up evil, scattered throughout the system empowered by all the cowards and those willing to trade power for morals.

William’s life changed the day his father died.

His remaining time in middle school and high school, all future plans were birthed from that singular event. And then, he heard of the serial killer known as Jigsaw.

The idea was simple. A game where a person had to test their metal. Had to sacrifice a pound of flesh. Prove that they wanted to live. That they could change. It was an interesting one that stuck with William before he’d eventually gone to the city on break. He’d researched. Explored. Talked to people he was positive were involved with Jigsaw or were at least adjacent to the killer.

And in his following, his searching, his looking, he’d found a house. Had followed Amanda Young to it. It had once been believed that she was the sole survivor of Jigsaw. That was no longer true, but her lengthy status as the lone survivor had been a curious one. Had the killer taken to her? Stayed with her? Welcomed her for having been the only one to prove her survival? At least at the time? William certainly would have been fascinated by the one survivor out of tens of bodies.

His suspicions were right when he broke in. The place was unassuming from the outside. Just another abandoned property on a broken, mostly deserted street. Everything silent and waiting to be torn down and built anew. Inside though? It was an utter gold mind. He wished he had a camera. He momentarily thought about leaving to come back, but no. That was too risky. He couldn’t come back here again. Instead, he took notes. Wrote down and quickly sketched everything he saw. Half finished traps for a much larger game than the ones the police and press had found so far. It looked like there were still pieces to be made. Parts unused. He kept exploring until–

There was a body in the basem*nt. Partially decomposed and damp. William almost hadn’t noticed it. The dirty form blended in with the filth already found on the floor. He’d nearly tripped over it and right onto his face.

It wasn’t the first body William had seen. The first one technically went to his father. The cop had tried to hide his vision when the others had come, but William had risked looking. That scene hadn’t left him in the past eight years. It, and the hatred for Dunlevy, never would. This was the first body he’d seen that was actively decomposing though. That was wet and rotting with the stench suddenly hitting William’s nose in waves. Bile rose up. Stinging and potent. He forced himself to swallow. He coughed. His throat bobbed. Slowly, he breathed through his mouth as he took note of the clothes. There looked to be a bullet wound in the center of the shirt. Judging by the hole’s placement and black residue that might have once been blood, that must have been the fatal shot.

William rifled through the corpse’s pockets, holding his breath all the while. A wallet was pulled out. The bills inside were damp and unusable. A few business cards were unreadable. But there was an ID.

William pocketed the ID before returning the wallet to the corpse.

Then, he found a large, sliding door. He pulled it open–

He could barely see inside. The light in the hallway had been incredibly dim already with large patches of darkness. Now, he finally pulled out a flashlight. There were two more bodies. One was at the same level of decomposition as the body in the hallway. The other was fresh. The blood had turned brown but the skin was still intact. A plastic bag turned brown-was it full of dried blood or sh*t-sat on the corpse’s stomach. The stench of the place grew. William took a step forward–

Crunch.

He looked down before suddenly jumping back. The flashlight hit the ground. Its beam rolled across the bathroom. Light fell onto the partially decomposed foot. He’d seen horrific images at the academy. In some of his college courses. He’d never seen something like this though. Not in person. The implications were clear. His stomach turned.

Sickened.

Excited.

Inch by inch, William knelt by the bone. He picked it up by the sawn off edge. The tips of his gloved fingers just barely held onto it before quickly dropping it back onto the ground.

Wait…

Hadn’t the most recent survivor lost his…

William spotted the tape recorder. There was blood and filth spattered over it. He feared it might not even work for a second before the sounds crackled to life.

“Hello Dr. Gordon.”

William instinctively sat on the basem*nt floor. By the two corpses and foot, he likely looked more like a child in circle time than a young man at a murder scene. Parts of the tape skipped. Not every word was clear. The tape was of poor quality and worn down. William listened to it intently. He’d heard that this was how Jigsaw communicated with the victims. This was his first time actually hearing the person’s voice. It had been put through a few filters to make it deeper, but was still clearly a human’s voice. Not a machine. William listened a few more times before placing the recorder back where he’d found it.

Dr. Gordon’s goal had been to kill Adam. He’d lived so it was fair to assume that Adam was dead. But which of the two corpses was he? William’s first guess would have been the decomposing one. It had been over a week since Dr. Gordon had been found. Adam must have been dead that entire time. The other one had been killed recently. Probably only a day ago, though William would have to further examine the body to say for sure. He pushed himself off the floor of the dirty bathroom. He picked up the flashlight. His fingers carefully examined what else he could find.

There was another tape. He picked it up. He pressed play.

“Hello Mr. Hindle. Or as they called you around the hospital. Zep. I want you to–”

The tape clattered to the ground. It became garbled noise before abruptly stopping. Not that William was listening as he fell to the tiles with a startled gasp. He stared with wide eyes. The beating of his heart could be felt in his throat. Had the corpse… No. No, it was…what was it called? He’d learned about it in class. It was just gas. Gas escaping the body as it continued the process of decomposition. The man was dead–

Fresh, red blood bubbled from his lips. William was on top of him in a flash. He straddled the slack body. Felt for a pulse. For a split second, he thought he was imagining it–but no! There! The man was alive!

But was he Zep or Adam?

After a bit more investigation of the area, William was positive the decomposing body was that of Mr. Hindle, the foot belonged to Dr. Gordon, and the man on the brink of death was Adam. He had no idea who the corpse in the hallway was. He checked Adam’s pulse again. The man was so close to expiring, William half expected the man to die in his arms then and there. However, still the pulse beat. It was insane the man hadn’t drowned in his own blood.

The things that William might be able to learn from this. A person who’d been at the center of a game. Who had seen how they worked. Who would undoubtedly have his own view on it.

Only this house clearly wasn’t finished. William had followed Amanda here after all. The upstairs had shown traps in progress. The building wasn’t done. Besides, Adam had clearly failed his trap. He was still here. Right?

But if William had understood the tape correctly, Adam’s goal had been to survive. The game was long done and over with. Dr. Gordon was gone. The lights had been shut down and he’d been abandoned. Yet still his body clung to life. Didn’t that mean he’d won? He’d survived past his time so didn’t he deserve to live?

Letting him die would have been the easier option. Despite how the basem*nt looked untouched unlike the upper parts of the house, there was always a chance someone could come back down here. Jigsaw. Amanda Young. Another person connected to all this. Certainly they’d notice a missing body. Except…

In the end, William risked it. He might have been able to gleam more information from Amanda Young, but he wasn’t sure how connected she was to all this. Confronting her could risk Jigsaw himself coming after William. Better to try and get information from this person who’d clearly been left here to die. To take his failure and use it to work backwards in understanding Jigsaw and his motives better.

He used the same lockpick that he’d used to get into the house. The chain around the man’s foot became loose. Then came a quick switch.

It was risky. Jigsaw might come to realize that someone else had been in the house. A body would still be missing. However, the one in the hallway had barely been noticeable. William had only spotted it after tripping on it. And there’d already been so much filth on the ground.

The jacket and shoes of the corpse were kept in the same spot. Bags and sh*t were moved. Bulked up. In the dark, it almost looked like another body if one wasn’t looking too closely. Then, that corpse replaced Adam. It was in jeans and a white t-shirt which helped. They even both had bullet wounds with the corpse decomposed enough that any clear, defining features were gone.

William did throw up while moving the body. Fluids dripped from the partially dried carcass. Smeared against the floor and William’s pants. He vomited into the nearby tub. Thankfully, the water was still on in the house. He flushed the bile down the drain, using his gloved hands to make sure nothing was left.

The corpse was propped up and locked in Adam’s place. A second was taken to listen to the tapes again. To write down what he heard in each of them, though the messages weren’t complete thanks to the degrading material. Then, William pocketed his small notepad. He went to Adam. Checked again to see if he was breathing. Still the man’s body forced itself on.

If his only goal had been to live through this, he had more than succeeded. At least in Williams’ mind. The man looked a few years older than William, but he was also a couple of inches shorter and weighed considerably less. It was easy getting the man out of the house and down the empty streets to where he’d parked. Trepidation. Fear. Delight. It all bubbled up inside him as he wondered what would happen next.

Chapter 3: Questions and Betrayal

Chapter Text

Adam tried to speak again. How much time had passed? How had he gotten to the apartment? Where was Lawrence? Who was this guy with his sardonic grin and pleased as f*ck crinkle to his eyes? He’d said his name was William. Adam didn’t recognize the name. Didn’t know any Williams. At least, he was pretty sure he didn’t.

“Hey, hey take it easy now. Your throat is pretty damaged and I only managed to get some liquids into you. First, you need to drink more and to try getting down a bit more food. I don’t need you dying from malnourishment after all the work I just went through.”

The man, William, stood up. He walked around the apartment with a clear familiarity that showed they’d been here long enough for the man to get comfortable. This place had never been great, but it had been Adam’s. It had been his. Now even the relief of being out, being here, couldn’t truly be felt. Not when his home had been violated too and he wasn’t even in a f*cking hospital being properly taken care of–

Fear overtook him. A cold, intrusive thought took hold and didn’t let go. When William walked back with a glass of water and a plastic bag of bread, Adam jolted away violently. Weak, panicked wheezing left his throat. William’s brow twisted in confusion. The items were placed down. He got closer. And closer. And closer–

Finally, William’s hand shot out. He gripped Adam’s shoulder. Made it impossible to pull further back into the corner of the bed. Adam couldn’t stop shaking. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes–

“I can’t hear you,” William calmly spoke. “Don’t strain your voice.” He leaned in even closer. His ear by Adam’s lips. “What was that?”

Adam honestly thought about biting him. However, whatever momentary relief that would cause, it would likely be followed by the pain getting thrown back his way. Or worse, this young man just might kill him. He was out of the bathroom. He was alive and out. Despite how desperately Adam wanted William to put some distance between them, he wasn’t willing to risk his life over it.

Instead, he cleared his throat. Slow and painful. The words fell from Adam’s lips.

“The pig…in my…took me. Did you…kidnap me?”

Confusion continued to pepper William’s face. He co*cked his head to the side. Adam could feel the heat radiating off the man’s body. Just get off. Get away. Just leave him alone! Please! Please! Please–

Understanding struck William. He finally leaned back. A shaky breath that almost sounded like a sob left Adam’s throat.

“You’re talking about for your game. Someone took you.”

Adam slowly nodded.

“And you don’t think the person who kidnapped you was Jigsaw?”

Adam might have thought that at the start of the game. But when he’d seen that old man stand up? Always watching? Waiting until the very end? Already in the room? The thought hadn’t been immediate, but it did make since. No way that man had done all that by himself. No way had he tackled Adam to the floor. He shook his head.

“Did you see anyone else?” asked William.

Again, Adam shook his head. “Just…no. Only the…the mask. Wasn’t…Jigsaw.”

William’s eyes lit up. He was no longer leaning over Adam but did sit by his side. Far too friendly considering their current circ*mstances. “Then you’ve seen Jigsaw?”

Seen him? He’d been locked in a f*cking bathroom with him for over six hours! But Adam didn’t yell that. Didn’t scream like he wanted to. A choked gurgle left his lips. He fell back on just nodding again.

William blinked in surprise. “Even I haven’t seen him. Really?”

Even I-WHAT THE f*ck DID THAT MEAN?! WAS HE OR WAS HE NOT INVOLVED IN THIS?! Adam was too tired to deal with this. Too tired. Too f*cking exhausted. In too much pain. He just wanted a plain f*cking answer. Because if he was here and not in a hospital, it meant the police hadn’t come. It meant Lawrence hadn’t gotten out. It meant that this man who seemed to know too much and not enough had saved him for some unknown reason.

Adam needed to know, but he couldn’t vocalize it. Not beyond the pained grunts and whispered words. Before he could finish a thought, William pressed his finger to his own lips. “Shhh,” he softly said. “We don’t want you to damage your throat further.”

Finally, the man got up and stepped away. He came back after grabbing the water and bread, but thankfully, he wasn’t practically on top of Adam again.

“Here. Slowly. If you drink too quickly, you’ll throw up.”

Adam followed the instructions. His stomach hurt too much to down everything immediately. Even with how he desperately needed to wet his parched throat. William tore up the bread. Dunked the pieces into the water. It was f*cking disgusting, but did slide down easier.

Eventually, William offered a piece but Adam had to decline. He was hungry. Starving still. But anymore and he was afraid he might just throw it all back up again. William refilled the glass of water. He placed the bread up. When he put the glass of water down, he sat back down on the bed. Got comfortable at one end. His leg bumped Adam’s. Like they were two bros chilling after class. It was surreal. Weird. That feeling of violation grew. He hated it. He wanted this man out.

And yet he could feel himself yearning for it. The last person who had touched him was…

Someone. Someone in the dark. Covering his head. His mouth. But before that, his memory was clearer. He remembered Larry clinging to him. How Adam had clung to him in return but it hadn’t been strong enough. Lawrence had left. With lies and broken promises. He’d made it out only to presumably perish. Leaving Adam broken and alone.

I’ll come back for you.

He hadn’t.

Adam didn’t like William. He didn’t trust William. There was something so incredibly off about him. It wasn’t just that William had apparently saved him for some unknown reason. That feeling was made worse by the fact that he was treating all this so casual and easy like. Calm. Adam didn’t know how William was being so f*cking calm. Yet at the same time, the slight human contact had Adam yearning. With William no longer being forceful or overly intrusive, the ghost of the touch wasn’t as panic inducing. His heart ached and his skin tingled at the slight proximity. Lawrence…

They were supposed to get out of there together…

He didn’t realize he was crying until William suddenly reached out. His thumb caught the tears. Wiped them away with a simple motion. Adam shuttered–

“Then you’re grateful you’re alive?”

It was a simple enough question. Perhaps even an innocent one.

Adam couldn’t stop himself.

He snapped.

His weak form barely did any real damage, but William didn’t fight him. He didn’t block the closed fists or push against the violent motions. Adam’s voice came out as a tortured, wicked croak. He was no longer thinking about the potential repercussions. The unknown variables. What had Jigsaw called him? Angry? Apathetic? Well f*ck him?! “GrATEful?!” Adam wheezed. His body was on top of William now. Hunched over and trembling from the exertion. Still, he screamed with all his energy. “I did whAT I HAD to?! Do you th-thINK A shi-itty NIne-t-to-five would PAY for this?! I worked my ASS off to be INDEPENDENT! To j-just Own thIS sh*tty a-apartment and yOU f*cking a-ASK me if I’m grateFUL?! f*ck you! What kind of s-silver f*ckING spoon must you have shOVED up your ass that y-y-you think you can j-just jUdge mE like that?!” Adam breathed in, ready to keep yelling only for painful coughs to suddenly wrack his entire body. Blood spattered across William’s face. The man flinched from the sudden wetness. An oddity considering he’d barely flinched from the strikes. As Adam started to crumble inwards, William pushed himself up. He calmly patted Adam on the back like he hadn’t just been attacked by him.

“Easy. Easy. We can talk about this later. Probably should, actually. You should rest. Here. I’ll get a bit more water for you. Slow. Slow.”

William was gentle with him in a way that worried Adam even more. He’d tackled him. Hit him. Still, William was unfazed.

Adam reluctantly accepted the water as he wondered exactly when he’d get answers and if those answers would really change anything.

John Kramer.

William had known the name thanks to some shoddy informant from the police and his own detective work. But now it was truly public knowledge. Now there was a manhunt for John Kramer, Amanda Young, and the missing police detective. It had been unknown if Amanda was an actual accomplice or a victim at first. The sole survivor of the game, the son of the missing police detective, had given conflicting statements. Clearly traumatized. Shaken. Wanting to know where his dad was. It was a feeling William could relate to. Even if all reports on Eric Matthews had suggested he was a piece of sh*t, William felt bad for the kid. Eric Matthews was likely already dead. And from what people were saying, the police were leaning towards the belief that Amanda Young was an accomplice. William’s own work certainly supported that.

The police still hadn’t discovered the house. At least not from what William could tell. He’d thought about going back there again. Would there be new bodies? New traps? Would everything be gone? Cleared out? Was his replacement for Adam’s corpse still there? Propped up? Right where he would have died if William hadn’t found him?

Sadly, William would likely never know. It was safer this way but still annoying not being able to go back.

He hadn’t filled Adam in on the information. Not personally. He’d been more focused on making sure Adam continued to take in calories. That he was healing faster than any potential damage he might cause himself. An outburst like that first time he’d woken up hadn’t occurred again, but he had heart. William could give him that. Sometimes, he just pushed a little too hard and Adam snapped. Days had passed. Well over a week. They talked, but not often as Adam’s throat continued to rest. It was only after five days Adam could take a shower on his own. Though he still needed help getting in and out. He still got winded just walking across his apartment. He was in a far better state than he had been, but he probably wouldn’t be fully recovered for another month or more.

They hadn’t outright discussed why William was here. Why William had saved him. Adam spent most of the time sleeping and when awake, so much energy was spent slowly eating it would wear him out again. Sometimes William talked about himself. Just to fill the silence. About school. His goals. The information always given was surface level and unimportant though. Adam seemed to notice but didn’t push. And then, a day came where William left a newspaper on the table. He’d been leaving the apartment regularly. Mainly for food. Sometimes for medical supplies. Adam hadn’t risked calling the police on him yet. Though that could simply be because of the state of his throat. When the news about John Kramer broke though, William saw it as the perfect opportunity to break the ice. And he’d wanted to see Adam’s reaction to one specific line in the paper.

“You sick f*ck!” In a rare occurrence, Adam was sat at his kitchen table. Not in bed. His voice still had a croaky undertone to it, but it had grown a great deal stronger in only the last few days. It was amazing what actual bed rest and a shower could do for a person. William looked on curiously as Adam’s eyes rapidly scanned the paper. “They’ll get your ass. You f*cking see.”

“You think the cops will actually succeed?” William asked. Personally, he had far less faith. He didn’t trust or believe in the ability of most cops. Ironic. He realized that. But with this city in particular? There were plenty of scumbags to go around. A lot of which had been led by Eric Matthews and his reputation.

“Talking about the cancer,” Adam responded. “Obviously that’ll be faster than the f*cking cops.”

William couldn’t help it. He laughed. He gave an incredulous look Adam’s way. “You think so?”

“Did you even read all this? It says he’s got stage four brain cancer. He could kidnap a brain surgeon and it probably won’t make much of a f*cking difference. It’s about time he be forced to prove how much he wants to f*cking live,” Adam bitterly got out. His eyes turned back to the pages. He read on. And on. And–

William could tell when Adam reached the particular line. The list of survivors. William wasn’t leaning over Adam’s shoulder, but he still remembered exactly what was said.

To date, only three people are believed to have survived a game. Amanda Young who is believed to have been working with Jigsaw for an unknown period of time, Daniel Matthews, the son of the still missing Detective Eric Matthews, and Dr. Lawrence Gordon who stated he’d be returning to practice near the end of the month.

A long, wordy sentence, but it got the job done. It said what it needed to and from the look on Adam’s face, it destroyed him.

“N-No…” His voice shook. He flipped pages. Continued to read the article. He quickly flipped back upon not finding another mention of the doctor. “He’s not… He didn’t…” Eventually, whatever attempt at convincing himself fell apart. Adam’s entire form fell. “He left me?”

In that moment, Adam looked more dead than he had in the bathroom. He didn’t say anything. William didn’t say anything. He found himself feeling bad for Adam. Though Adam had spoken little, especially about himself, he didn’t seem like a bad person. Not like the man that had killed William’s father. Not like the men and women he’d met while training to be a police officer. Adam and the sins laid out by Jigsaw paled in comparison. Hell. The man hadn’t even broken any laws from what William could gather. It brought forth a weird sense of disillusionment. When he’d first heard of the games and ideas, he’d been excited. Seeing them in person? It had been eye opening. But looking at Adam now? Becoming familiar with his apartment and watching him struggle to make it through the day? It made William wonder if calling Jigsaw a serial killer was the most accurate label after all. Maybe he wasn’t anything more than that despite his big words and elaborate devices.

“Why are you keeping me alive?” whispered Adam. It was remarkable. He’d only been with Dr. Gordon for a few hours. Yet after hearing the man had been alive for weeks now and hadn’t come for him? It was like all of Adam’s fight had just left him. The will to live was just gone.

“I’m not a killer,” William murmured.

“But you’re fascinated by one like he’s the best pitcher in the Boston Red Sox’s,” mumbled Adam. “You didn’t call the cops. Didn’t go to the police despite how you’re f*cking working to be one. You didn’t torture me though. Haven’t killed me. Just…why? What’s the f*cking point?”

“I wanted the firsthand account of an actual game,” William admitted. And much more, but he didn’t bother going into further detail. Not in the moment as Adam’s face dropped to his hands and he screamed. William jolted forward. He was ready to stop Adam. He’d use force if necessary. After all the healing Adam had gone through, it would be a waste for him to open up the wounds and start the scabbing process all over again inside his throat.

The scream was short though. Only a bust as his shoulders shook and his voice trembled in exhaustion and fear. “I’m not some f*cking butterfly in a display case. S-So what if my life w-wasn’t worthy of a New York Times autobiography? I-I wanted to live. Shouldn’t that h-have been enough? I-I just wanted t-to live.”

Adam started to cry. It wasn’t the first time, but it was more open than the others. Possibly because he was properly hydrated right now and had plenty of tears to shed. William watched him for a moment longer before he slowly approached. He sat on the other side of the mismatched table set. He didn’t do anything. Didn’t say anything. Again, he waited until Adam was simply done.

He watched as the older man picked up the newspaper again. His eyes moved over the list of survivors again. His tears had peppered the print. Words bled into each other. His thumb rubbed against Dr. Gordon’s name again. Somehow, despite that Dr. Gordon’s game had been to kill Adam, Adam seemed genuinely betrayed.

“What do you want from me?” Adam whispered again.

“I’d still like to discuss the game. I think it could be beneficial.”

Adam shuddered. “You’re sick.”

William snorted. “I’m perfectly sane. But we can discuss the game later.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes. Though I’ve enjoyed looking through your photos. You’re talented. I think you could help me. The use of your talents for me helping save your life. I think that seems fair.”

Adam gave him a weary, slightly incredulous look. William wasn’t sure why. If anything, William considered his offer pretty damn generous. He smiled, though from Adam’s answering look, it did nothing to quell the older man’s nerves.

Chapter 4: Looking for Answers in All the Wrong Places

Chapter Text

They didn’t immediately jump into discussions of William’s future plans. Instead, that talk came a few days later. After Adam asked if he could call his family. He half expected William to stop him. To tell him that he wasn’t allowed. But the man had simply said, “Take your time.”

Of course, the thought of calling the police entered his mind. But what? What could he say? Sure, William had said a lot of crazy sh*t, but what had he really done? He’d saved Adam. Had saved a victim of Jigsaw. Adam’s claims might make people question William. Might screw up his current standing at the police academy. But it wasn’t enough to arrest William. Just hearsay. More than likely, it would just screw up William’s life enough that the man might retaliate against Adam.

The buttons clicked. The landline rang. He leaned against the wall as the phone continued to ring. He’d called his parents first. He actually planned to call a few of his family members that he hadn’t talked to in a long time. Even his brother. Assuming his number was still the same. But those plans fell apart when he actually heard his parents’ response.

It wasn’t like he’d had a horrible relationship with his family. He’d even go so far to argue his early years had been ok. Not perfect, but he had some good memories. If there was one thing that surviving the trap had done, it had made Adam want to see them. To talk to them. To realize how much he’d taken them for granted–

His mom hadn’t even realized he was missing.

And when he started to choke up? To cry?

She asked if he’d gotten arrested and needed to be bailed out. If he’d gotten into money troubles again.

He couldn’t bring himself to be angry with her. Not really. They rarely talked once a month. He hadn’t even seen her last Christmas. Not a bad relationship. Just distant. Of course she hadn’t realized. Of course she would assume he needed help. It wasn’t her fault. Nine times out of ten, if Adam called, it was because he needed help. Those facts just didn’t make it any easier. Adam hung up. His head fell into his hands. He tried to keep it together as he hobbled to the nearest chair. He collapsed in it. His eyes remained close for a while longer. He’d never felt more alone than in that moment.

At least until he lifted his head and William was knelt in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

The craziest part was that William sounded earnest. Adam was still pretty sure the younger man was insane, but in his insanity, he didn’t seem aware of his dual sided views and actions.

“What do you want?”

“W-What do I want?” Adam had to force a lump down. Seriously? Did William care? He doubted William would honor whatever was said. Somehow, in knowing that William wouldn’t take anything he said seriously, it made answering honestly all the easier. “I want to leave,” Adam whispered. “I want to get out. Of this f*cking apartment. This city. Away from all this sh*t.”

If he had his way, he’d never see it again. Could he really bring himself to do that though? Even if William left him alone, Adam didn’t have the kind of money to get out of town. Not by himself. The only option would have been to move back in with his parents. But he doubted they’d even agree to that. They were living with his grandmother now. Taking care of her. They didn’t have room for Adam and it wasn’t like they’d ever be able to understand his state of mind. What he’d been through. Why the dark made him instinctively scream and cry like a scared five year old.

He had nothing. No one. He would be stuck here. Waiting to see if Jigsaw would find out if he was still alive. Always looking over his shoulder. Expecting to see another pig face. Always a few miles from Lawrence. From Dr. Gordon. His doctor. His doctor who’d promised he’d come back for him and had lied and left like it was nothing. f*ck. Maybe Jigsaw had been right. John Kramer. Whoever the f*ck he was. Adam didn’t have a life. Not anymore–

“Ok.”

He blinked in shock. “I’m sorry?”

“The person I want you to follow doesn’t live in this city. Or this state, if I’m being honest. So, as long as you don’t mind where you’re going, I can get you out of this city.”

“Oh yeah? You a rich f*cking daddy’s boy?”

For the first time since meeting William, his face actually hardened. Calling his gaze a glare would have been too tame. Adam shivered. “From the moment I could work, I have worked. I worked constantly. In school and outside of school. Some of the money has come from scholarships, but all of it I earned. I haven’t told you what drew me to Jigsaw yet.”

Adam shook his head.

“A crooked cop, Peter Dunleavly, killed my father.” And with that, WIlliam finally explained what had brought him to this rat infested city with its high crime rates and infamous serial killer.

After nearly an hour of talking, Adam finally knew the man’s name. His full name. He also knew his old name. His original name. William’s voice finally wavered. Small, choking noises as he spoke of his father and what had happened. He wasn’t amused or confident. He just sounded like a kid without a father, looking for meaning in all the wrong places.

“So what?” whispered Adam. “You gonna start killing people? You gonna kill Dunleavy if he ever gets out of prison?”

It almost looked like that thought, or at least the one involving Dunleavy, hadn’t occurred to William. He co*cked his head to the side. “I could,” he mused after a moment.

Adam almost wanted to ask what the hell this f*cker was thinking. He was genuinely afraid of what might come to mind though. Instead, Adam whispered, “So what the hell do you want from me? How could you get me out of the city? And what about my skills could ever be useful to you?”

“I can’t be in two places at once. And you have a good eye. You can capture people, their patterns, their actions.”

“And then what? You’ll track them down? Start killing cops-sorry. Bad cops?” Not that Adam had ever met a cop he liked, but the idea that just killing bad cops would solve everything seemed flawed. Too simple and black and white. The logic of a child.

William sighed. He got up and started to pace. He gave Adam a long look before he calmly said, “I’m not delusional.”

“Yeah, and I’m Chinese.” The sarcastic response was immediate. Adam really couldn’t help his mouth sometimes. Especially in situations that made him nervous. William at least took the response well. His lips even twitched up into a smile.

“I’m serious. I know Jigsaw is a serial killer. He had vision but his methods are flawed. Probably buried in anger at his own circ*mstances if we go by the information we were given in the paper. I mean, cancer, failed marriage, dead kid, a car accident? What do you think that would do to someone?”

“Make them want to try and kill themselves?”

“Or, make them angry. Angry at the world. At what they can’t have. At what was taken from him while others wasted what they had. I bet he looked at you and saw himself. Saw a guy with skill and opportunities and you wasted that and that pissed him off. He didn’t follow his own rules after all. Not if we just go by the tapes. And if there were unknown rules? Rules that only he knew how to follow? That’s equally unfair. After all, Dr. Gordon was supposed to kill you and he lived while you survived but were still left to die.” William pointed at Adam when he said that with an almost hopeful face. Like maybe Adam was actually following his train of thought. “I’m talking about taking his methods, the ideology, and applying it to something that matters. The police are supposed to enforce the law. Make people’s lives safer. They don’t. So what if a guy cuts himself or another cheats on his wife? Those are small issues. The effects don’t ripple across a city. Making the cops afraid, putting them in-line, that would save far more lives than making one lonely man appreciate his life. John Kramer was misguided. He let his own emotions and hatred at the world guide his decisions. Not the game. You didn’t deserve to die, but that doesn’t mean his work can’t be improved upon.”

It was like William was so close to realizing how f*cked up his ideas were. Only after every step forward, there was another step back.

“You don’t have to worry. I don’t need you involved in the actual construction of the games. Just the setup.”

“Oh. That’s comforting,” whispered Adam.

“I’m trying to help,” William confidently replied.

“So then what about Dunleavy? You gonna put him in a trap if he gets released from prison?”

William thought about it for a second. “No. No I…I’m not positive what I want to do with him yet. But he deserves to die. That I do know.”

“Isn’t the idea of the games that everyone deserves a second chance?” Even when those second chances were f*cked up and unfair.

“No. Not everyone deserves a second chance,” William simply responded. “Some of those people? Hell, some of my f*cking teachers at the police academy? Straight up evil. This isn’t about them. It’s about changing the system. Making cops afraid to intimidate a witness, steal from the people, or even kill them. And if some don’t deserve a second chance to get to that point? Then that’s because of their own actions. Not mine.”

“You gonna wear a giant f*cking white wig too?”

William gave him a confused look.

“You know? Cause clearly you’re planning on playing judge, jury, and executioner?”

William smiled. “I can perform those duties better than they're being performed right now. So, if necessary...”

Adam hadn’t meant to support William’s twisted ideals. Knowing that whatever he said would either go over William’s head though or get twisted around, Adam simply murmured, “So who then? Who’s the unlucky f*ck that I’m supposed to follow so you can string him up down the way?”

William was still smiling, but the smile changed. Softer. Gentle. “Zeke Banks. My partner.”

It was said so confidently and yet Adam just had to ask. “Does he know he’s your partner?”

“He will. Eventually. I need you to make sure he stays safe. That no one stabs him in the back while I’m unable to be at his side.”

Adam’s brow furrowed. He tried to think of who could be this important to William. Why had he latched onto this man– “Was he there?” Adam suddenly spit out. “W-When your father died?”

William nodded. “He kept me safe, and when it mattered most, he told the truth. He’s the reason Dunleavy faced any kind of justice at all. Even if their sentencing was too light on him.”

“One good cop in a sea of filth. Huh?”

Another smile. Confident and firm. “Exactly.”

Adam bowed his head again. He tried to think of what he was supposed to do. Did just talking about this with William make him an accomplice? William hadn’t done any of this yet, but if he did… What did that make Adam?

William knelt beside him again. Earnest and open with an almost angelic face despite the dark, endless depths to his eyes. “Please?”

Not a threat. Physical or otherwise. Just a hopeful question. Like somehow Adam was the one holding all the cards in this situation. “Can I…think about it?” Why hadn’t he just said no? No! It should have easily left his lips. Only something inside him was holding it back. Anger. Frustration. Not at William or even his current circ*mstances but his past ones. Jigsaw. Larry. Lawrence who had f*cking left him and been allowed to live when Adam had been damned for no f*cking reason in an unfair game with no point. No point at all.

“Of course. You’re still healing after all. Though I have to say I’m going to need to leave soon. I’ve told people I’ve been on break from the academy, but if you really think about it, what break that’s weeks long would be given in September?” laughed William.

“Then how did you get the time off?”

“Being top of your class has its perks,” William grinned. “I told my teachers it was because of family. I may have to retake some of the classes later, but if I go back and I’m able to catch up with everything I missed, I wouldn’t even be behind.”

Adam slowly nodded.

“Where did you learn to do photography?”

“W-What?”

“Where did you learn? Or were you self taught?”

No one had ever…had ever just asked Adam that. Not really. Clients didn’t even care. If they didn’t like the pictures Adam had taken, they ghosted him and didn’t pay. No one asked after his qualifications. Not that this even felt like William needing qualifications. He just seemed genuinely curious. Like he’d given Adam his own life story so he wanted to learn a bit more about Adam’s.

“Self…self taught,” Adam slowly said. “I-I tried getting into school. For it. Didn’t have good enough grades. F-From highschool. GPA was too low.”

“That’s a shame. Like I said, you’ve got a good eye. Did your family support you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” Adam softly muttered. “I guess…I guess my brother did. For a bit.”

“A bit?”

“We haven’t talked in over a year. Got into a fight when I was having money trouble. He said I needed to grow up. I told him shoveling sh*t for the disease ridden and disabled didn’t exactly make him the king of life advice.” Adam winced even as he said the words. f*ck. If he could go back and do it all again… He never would have said that sh*t to him.

“Was he older?”

“By about a minute.”

“Twins?”

“Yep,” sniffed Adam.

“You could try and call him,” William suggested.

“I doubt he’d answer. And that’s assuming he’s even got the same f*cking cellphone.”

“You should still call him,” William replied. “My father was the only family I had. If there was anyone else…I’d…I would try and hold onto that relationship. No matter the past arguments.”

Adam shakily nodded his head. He briefly wondered if William would have grown up normal if he’d had family to lean on and hadn’t been thrown into the foster system. Would this obsession with justice and the police and the cop who’d told the truth not be there? Or at least greatly eclipsed by more normal interactions and relationships? Adam would never know and sadly, neither would William. Still, as crazy as he was, his words struck a chord with Adam. He decided to give it a try.

He moved back to the landline. Despite not having talked in months, he still remembered the number. When he put the receiver to his ear, it rang. That was a good sign at least. He waited, and waited, and–

“This is David. You know what to do.”

Adam painfully swallowed. He almost thought to hang up. Clearly, David still didn’t want to talk to him. It beeped, signaling he could leave a message.

He waited. He waited almost too long before suddenly blurting out, “It’s Adam! J-Just-Just call me back. Ok? I-I…” He trailed off. I need you? I miss you? I’m sorry? I f*cked up? I never wanted you to go? I didn’t mean to push you away? He didn’t know what to say. Because of that, the message just automatically ended after the given time. He slowly put the phone down. He wondered if David would ever call him back. If he’d even listen to the message or just automatically delete it when he knew who it was from.

“Sorry,” William softly said.

“Not like it’s your fault,” Adam sighed. He rubbed at his eyes again just as his stomach growled.

“Do you think you could eat more today?” asked William.

Adam hesitated before nodding. He was always starving after eating. His stomach needed the time to readjust to regularly getting food again and his throat had needed to rest and heal though. Now, he didn’t feel great. He felt a lot better though. He could breath without pain wracking his chest. Could walk around his apartment without getting winded. At least a little.

William smiled. “Then I’ll go get us a real meal. Think about what I said. Alright?” William patted Adam on the shoulder before grabbing the keys and heading out the door.

What was Adam going to do?

He felt so confused. Lost. Had William felt this way when he’d lost his father? Maybe. Adam was out. He was out of the bathroom. But in a way, he didn’t feel like he was out. He didn’t feel like he’d ever be out as the dark terrified him and his family would never truly understand what he went through. As he had to live with the knowledge that the one person without some kind of family obligation he’d thought had come to really care about him had left. Abandoned him.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes again. Adam squeezed them shut. “f*ck you, Lawrence. f*ck you.”

Was it chance or orchestration? That was a question that passed Mark’s mind when he saw the kid again. He’d called like he’d planned to. He’d talk to several people. He didn’t know the truth, but he knew enough to know the kid was lying. He didn’t bother skirting around the topic. Instead, he walked right up to William Schenk and said, “You’re not on break.”

From the kid’s face, he recognized Mark. If the words made him uneasy, William didn’t show it. “I’m not,” he admitted. “But I am here for family. What did the teachers say? I’m assuming you talked to them.”

Mark’s lips twisted. It was an attempt at a smile but probably looked more like a grimace. “Said you were smart and a good student. And you knew what you were risking by being away for so long. Though they doubted your graduation would be delayed.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Maybe I’ll even have the chance to work beside you,” William replied.

Like hell the kid would. “I couldn’t find any mention of your family.”

“My family members aren’t as famous as yours. None of them have gotten a chance at fame on the nine o’clock n–”

Mark didn’t let the kid finish that sentence. He grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the nearest wall. The bags he’d been carrying clattered to the ground. People jumped away in shock. Someone took a photo. Mark forced himself to let go. He smoothed out William’s shirt. “You should be more careful. A smart tongue like that could get you into trouble.” He kept his voice level even as he glared at the kid. Everyone around here knew about his sister. What had happened to her. Some days, it followed him around like a goddamn shadow. But this kid wasn’t from here. He would have had to look Mark up. Had singled him out, for some unknown reason.

“Is that a threat, Detective Hoffman?” questioned William.

“Just a courtesy.” Mark backed off for the moment. His eyes followed the kid as he picked up the bags and headed off. He would have liked to follow the kid. See exactly where he was going and who his ‘family’ was. Unfortunately, he was on a tight schedule and at least in this moment, it felt like their meeting had only been by chance. If they saw each other a third time though…

He’d need to dig deeper into this kid’s past. Only once he was positive the kid wasn’t a threat would he feel safe forgetting the kid.

Chapter 5: Broken Hearts and Minds

Chapter Text

Adam almost thought about trying to disappear.

William had left almost a week ago. And in his place? Several bundles of large dollar bills had been left behind. Adam hadn’t gotten ready to leave right away. For one, rent had been paid for this month. Even if Adam hadn’t been the one to pay it. For another thing, he’d still been healing. And lastly? Adam still didn’t know what answer he was going to give William. William hadn’t known the answer either, despite going ahead and giving him enough money to get out of the city. Adam could try and run with it. Sure, it wouldn’t last him for a long time, but it might just be enough to allow him to find his footing elsewhere. To try and disappear.

Or he could put his skills to something more useful. Or perhaps more depraved. He could change what happened to him into something with purpose. Take what was done against him and do it to people that actually deserved it. If he accepted William’s offer, he wouldn’t be alone. Someone would know what he’d gone through. Would understand it. Would believe he hadn’t deserved to die. Was having that connection, even with an insane man, worth it?

Adam didn’t know. He really didn’t. He just knew the next time he walked out of his apartment, it would be with a packed backpack over his shoulders and a suitcase full of his photography equipment. He’d be gone. From this city. From Jigsaw and wherever he was hiding.

But in leaving, for better or worse, Adam found he couldn’t go without saying goodbye. It was potentially a risky move. A dangerous one. Yet when he had his bags and everything set, he found himself telling the cab driver, “The hospital,” rather than the bus stop. He paid the guy to wait outside. Hopefully he actually stayed and didn’t screw him over. Then, Adam was quickly going into the hospital.

A few people recognized him. Or thought they recognized him. Only he wasn’t David as he quickly mumbled out an apology and walked away from the awkward conversations. David had quit his job here not long after their fight. Adam still didn’t know where he was. His brother hadn’t called him back. Adam would have to call him once he got to a new place. Just to give him a phone number he could contact him at. He’d had a cellphone, but after Jigsaw, he had no idea where it had gone. It would probably be awhile before he could get a replacement and a new number. If David even cared to contact him–

The sudden realization that Dr. Gordon and his brother might have known each other in passing froze Adam to the spot. Understandably, he hadn’t really been thinking that when he’d found out Lawrence was a doctor. It wasn’t like the guy had given the address of his office or anything, but there was only one major hospital around here. What were the odds? That his brother had been an orderly at the same hospital that Dr. Gordon worked at? The same hospital that Mr. Hindle had been an orderly. f*ck. f*ck, David had probably known Zep. Could have worked with him. How f*cked up was that? f*ck, why had Adam come here? What was he hoping to achieve? He couldn’t breath–

“Adam?”

He moved quickly. He tried to run for it. A cane clattered to the ground as the older man risked moving as fast as possible in order to grip Adam’s wrist. Adam felt that side tug towards the ground as he was suddenly acting as a support structure. His eyes finally landed on the doctor’s. His doctor. His liar. The man he hated. A man he dreamed about, screaming his name in the dark.

“It is you.” A sense of amazement could be heard in Lawrence’s voice. Utter disbelief. Like a man who wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or awake. He looked good. A far cry from the white complexion and sweat soaked shirt. It made anger flair up inside Adam. He wrenched his arm away. Lawrence faltered. Even in anger, Adam’s instinct was to grab his arm. This time, Adam willingly used his body to steady the man.

Shaking hands were on his. A weak grip, only Adam’s had been weaker before. Unable to hold him still. Unable to keep Lawrence at his side. Now his grip was the stronger one as he kept Larry from collapsing to the floor.

“You left me,” hissed Adam. Every ounce of anger, of heartbreak. It all came spilling from his lips. Every moment Lawrence had told him to just ‘calm down’. Had acted like Adam was a f*cking moron to be panicking like he had. Only to then turn around and make Adam carry Lawrence’s panic and fear without a care. His grip tightened to a painful degree. Knuckles ached. Tendons twitched.

“John said–”

It could have been anyone that Lawrence was talking about. It could have been. But in Adam’s heart of hearts, only one John came to mind. The name on the newspaper. The Jigsaw killer. Out of the handful of survivors, Amanda Young had become an accomplice. Why not another? Jigsaw had left that room mere seconds after Lawrence. He had to have helped him. That had to be how Larry was alive. It was the only thing that made sense. And in helping him…

Adam shook him. “So you’re on a first name basis with a killer, huh?” He kept his voice low even as the people around them finally began to notice the strange exchange. One nurse grabbed a phone. She was probably about to call security. Adam decided to make this quick. To rip off the bandaid. To tear himself away like Lawrence had pulled away from Adam. Gotten rid of him like the filth he was. Like how he’d treated him in the beginning. It had never mattered what they’d gone through together. The doctor probably thought the same thing of him now as he had from the very beginning. Annoyed and exasperated by Adam’s very presence. “I just came by to say thanks for f*cking nothing. You better hope no one ever promises to come back only to f*cking ghost you because I can speak from experience. It f*cking sucks. See you never, Larry.”

There was so much more he wanted to say. He was afraid he might just break down if he did. The momentary swap in their power dynamic, the control he was holding, it would all fall apart. Because of that, he simply bent down, snatched up Larry’s cane, shoved it into the man’s hands, and ran for it. Someone yelled. Lawrence’s voice followed. It sounded like he was telling someone it was alright. Not to follow.

Adam ran out of the hospital and straight into the taxi that had thankfully waited for him. He just barely managed to get out, “Bus station,” before it all came crashing down. He wasn’t angry anymore. He was scared and confused and Lawrence was supposed to be there for him and was supposed to come back to him and he hadn’t and Adam couldn’t breath-he couldn’t breath!

Huge, shoulder wracking sobs escaped his lips. He curled onto his side. Didn’t buckle up. The driver didn’t ask him to. Just shot back confused, pitying looks as tears streamed down Adam’s face. At one point, he bit down on his arm. It was hard enough to break his own skin as he let out a muted scream.

why why wHywhyWhywHYWHYWhYWHY–

When he finally managed to let out a choked, “Sorry,” the driver responded with a quick and panicked, “It’s fine.” Adam was pretty sure he’d scared the man. Then, decided he’d definitely scared him when the man didn’t ask for the second part of the fair and just drove off once Adam had his bags.

He was here. It was almost over.

It would never be over. Not really.

At least he’d be out of the city though. Small favors and all that.

When Adam got on the bus, he couldn’t stop looking over his shoulder. He felt like someone in a pig faced mask would pop out at any second. Like the grim reaper coming to drag him back down to the hell he hadn’t been meant to escape. But that never happened. Tickets were given. People found seats. Adam kept his bags in the seat next to him. Thankfully, the bus didn’t get so full that someone demanded to sit there.

The engine roared to life. The wheels began to turn. Adam pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He’d gotten them before packing everything up and leaving. He took a drag.

“Hey! You can’t smoke on–” The woman shut up the moment their eyes met. She turned away, minding her own business as no one else risked saying a word. Adam leaned his head against the window. He looked at his see-through reflection. Watched his own red eyes and tear stained face as he slowly took another drag.

He was out.

But no relief came with it.

The moment Lawrence got to his office, he locked the door and made sure all the blinds were closed. Even though he wasn’t on the first floor. He dialed the number. The dial tone was like someone was drilling into his skull. His outer exterior was calm. Even internally he wasn’t really panicking. He wasn’t allowing himself to panic.

The latest ring was abruptly cut off.

“I told you not to call this number.”

Amanda Young’s voice was angry, but then, when was it not?

“I needed to ask something.”

Unsurprisingly, she assumed. Her voice was curt. Lawrence imagined her thumb was already on the ‘end call’ button. “John doesn’t need you right now.”

“Not him,” Lawrence quickly got out. “I need to know. Did you do what I asked?”

A long stretch of silence followed. He could hear her trying to breath in and out slowly, but her breath shook as she did. “I did it,” she hissed.

“Are you sure–”

“I said I did it! I did it!” she yelled back. “You wanted him at peace! I fixed it! I got my hands dirty when you f*cking couldn’t so don’t try and question me you stupid c*nt! Don’t call this number again! f*ck!”

And with that, the call went dead. She’d sounded positive. No doubt at all. Just guilt in her voice. Guilt that had been there before and guilt that remained despite trying to give Adam mercy at the end of his life. Maybe Lawrence had imagined it all…

But no. No, other people had noticed the man. Nurse Hackett had called security because of how he’d grabbed Lawrence. There was still the feeling of his hand on his arm. Holding him steady. Helping to keep him upright. It hadn’t been hard enough to bruise, but it felt like a bruise. Like if he rolled up his sleeve, he’d see the outlines of Adam’s fingers.

Was this another test? For who? Himself or Amanda? Did John know what Amanda had done? What Lawrence had asked her to do? Lawrence had rationalized it as he’d been too weak. His body trying to heal from the recent trauma. Only it had been more than that. Hadn’t it? Cowardice of the mind, not the physical.

He’d done what he’d had to. He hadn’t lied. He’d come back for Adam. Had sent someone to him. Had done what he could within the confines of John’s words and Adam’s lost game.

It wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t his place.

Lawrence finally allowed himself a moment of weakness. His head fell into his hands. Adam’s touch continued to burn against his forearm. Had it really been him?

Amanda didn’t like what the doctor was implying. Because of that, she left John under the guise of getting food and supplies. Back to the house. Back to where she’d damned two men only to become the orchestrator of the next game and damn many more. Where she’d destroyed a child’s trust in her and then killed his father.

It wasn’t her fault.

She’d just been trying to do what was right!

She went down to the basem*nt. The last time she’d been there, Eric Matthews had attacked her. He’d broken himself out of the chain. He’d gotten free. By the logic of the games, she should have left him. He should have been allowed to survive. Crawling his way out of the house and onto the street.

But it had been because of Eric Matthews that she was here at all. It was because of him that she’d lost everything! That she’d turned to drugs after his falsified f*cking report! That John had ended her life!

No. No no no no. He’d saved her. He’d given her a life worth living. He needed her and she needed him. He was the father she’d never had.

Then why in times like this did it feel like her life was falling apart worse than when she’d been high half the time?

She got to the basem*nt. She turned on the lights. Only a fourth of them were working. She slowly moved down the dark stretches. Why was she here? Why come back? She’d killed Adam. Adam had been there. When she’d ran to the basem*nt with Daniel. The body had still been there. He was dead! The doctor was probably just losing his mind. She’d known he wasn’t up for this. She didn’t know why John had wanted him so badly.

She walked to the room. The one where she’d helped drag Adam and the doctor inside. She pulled it open. Flicked on the lights. The bulbs burned bright, momentarily blinding her. She blinked to clear her eyes before quickly approaching the corpse in the corner. She walked over the dead orderly without a care. She’d known of that game but hadn’t been directly involved. She bent down. Looked the body over. It was a corpse. A corpse with a bullet wound. It was f*cking Adam. A pain tried to worm its way up into her throat. She forced herself to swallow it. Blinked back the potential tears–

Wait. Hadn’t the bullet wound been in the shoulder? Not the stomach?

She stared long and hard. Tried to rationalize it. Tried to believe she was imagining it. She quickly went over the body again. She realized the body was larger than Adam had been. Longer limbs. A longer torso.

No.

No…

Who…

She’d…

Amanda stood up in a flash. She walked around. Looked–

The former detective. Detective Tapp. He’d been down here. Had been killed by Zep. His body had been removed though. Amanda had assumed it was on John’s orders to clear out the area for her own game. He’d had Hoffman help set up some of the larger, heavier contraptions so hadn’t he–

She checked the corpse again. There was a wallet on the body. Adam hadn’t had a wallet on him. The driver’s license was missing, but she would have bet anything that it was Tapp’s.

She went back out. Walked around and round the maze-like basem*nt–

Where was Eric?

She’d beaten his face in. Had gone back and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him–

Where was the body?

This house held a lot of emotion for her. It held a lot of guilt. But for the first time since being in it, she felt afraid. She looked once more, but upon finding nothing, she left with wide eyes and a panicked breath. Was it the doctor? Was he f*cking with her? Why had he questioned her? Why doubt that she’d killed Adam–

But if she’d killed him, then where was the f*cking body?!

She left the house. She made it back to the warehouse in record time.

Waiting for her on the bed was an envelope. One that she ripped open in an instant. Her eyes moved over the typed out letters before the guilt and pain and fear started to overcome her and she started to cry.

Chapter 6: The Thought of You

Chapter Text

William found the woman by pure chance.

Several months had passed since he’d visited the hunting grounds of the Jigsaw killer. The games were still active but smaller. Just one or two people involved rather than a whole group like what had happened at the house and with Eric Matthews. William wondered if a larger one was being staged. Multiple people. Multiple components. Multiple steps and undoubtedly multiple victims. Some had theorized the sudden quiet from the Jigsaw killer meant he’d moved cities. William highly doubted that. That city was large and going by John Kramer’s past, he had the money and means to hide out in the crumbling infrastructure. Considering the amount of forethought the games required, it also made more sense for Kramer to stay in a place he was familiar with.

Others suggested the cancer might have gotten to him. That he was dead and maybe Amanda Young was all that was left. Again, William doubted that. He didn’t know how connected Hoffman was to John Kramer and Amanda Young. He hadn’t had a chance to follow the man like Amanda. Unlike Amanda though, William had found out a lot more on Hoffman. His sister who had been killed by her ex. And then that ex getting put into a trap. A trap that, going by the forums online, had failed. The killer had done what was necessary. Had crushed his hands. Only the pendulum had finished its swinging. Had cut him in half even after winning.

Meeting Adam had proved to William that the psychology of John Kramer might be flawed, but the physical elements never were. The physical mechanisms didn’t just break down. They didn’t fail. The idea that a murderer must destroy the hands that committed such heinous acts was too simple a concept to be looked at any other way. Had Hoffman done it? Maybe. William wasn’t positive. At least not until his new found friend provided some greatly appreciated information.

Eleanor Bonneville was a medical student. Though it had taken well over a month for William to learn it. He’d first met her under the username r3verseb3artrap.

Perusing the forums on the dark web had amused William to no end. He wondered if Jigsaw had ever considered putting one of these people in a trap. He’d singled out Adam for being a voyeur. How did he feel about people obsessing over him? Theorizing about him? Breaking down his traps and wasting their lives getting off on other people’s suffering? Or did he too succumb to a perverse sense of satisfaction? The belief that people were beginning to support and turn to his ideologies? Would he wish to test William, if he knew of him? Did he see inspiration as the sincerest form of flattery? Or was it as distasteful as pure imitation?

What would John Kramer have thought of Eleanor Bonneville’s obsession?

The first time they met had been in public. It was smart. Who knew what kind of f*cking weirdos were out there.

It had been in a bar one city over. They’d agreed on the location beforehand. A place that was near for them both but in a city that neither lived in. Neutral ground. When they’d met, Eleanor had raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow behind her horn-rimmed glasses. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“And you’re prettier than I expected.”

She’d smirked. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“What about when it comes to noticing a different knife was used to cut out the Jigsaw piece on Seth Baxter?”

“I’m just appreciative that you actually believed me.”

“To be fair, it was an older game. Before Amanda Young.”

“Obviously it wasn’t Amanda Young,” agreed Eleanor.

William leaned in close. “I am curious why you didn’t give proof when people started claiming you were making sh*t up though.”

“Would you put personal information on the dark web? Hell no,” she snorted.

“But how could you tell? Come on. Really. It wasn’t just from the leaked photos. Right?”

“I might have an ‘in’ with the coroner on all the victims.”

“Might?”

She’d just given a mischievous smirk before ordering a beer.

Neither had given much away in the beginning. In that first meeting, they hadn’t even given each other their first name despite meeting in person. Not then. But over time, William had come to really enjoy her company. Eventually, they trusted each other with names and a little bit more. William didn’t give everything away. Though he did wonder if her excitement and intrigue would remain if she knew William planned to put their conversations to practical purposes. For the moment though, they could go so far as to consider each other friends. William was even inviting her over now. She’d discussed a project of hers related to the Jigsaw cases. Little had been given away and William was incredibly curious about it. He could of course follow her one day. Figure out exactly where she lived. However, again, he actually liked her. If he had to wait a little longer before she trusted him, then William was happy to do that. Hopefully, the day she invited him to view her project would come sooner rather than later. Especially now that William had risked showing her his own space.

When she was over, the conversations were always casual. They didn’t just talk about Jigsaw anymore but each other’s personal lives as well. At least with the minor details they felt comfortable telling each other. After William finished complaining about one cadet that he was seriously considering testing, Eleanor rolled her eyes hard. “Maybe you shouldn’t have decided to become a f*cking cop. Seriously, if you’re this interested in the traps and how they work, why’d you never go in for an engineering degree or something?”

“Why didn’t you?”

“That’s the not the same thing. Not all doctors are bastards.”

William snorted. Adam might disagree with that statement. He turned the attention back on her. “I’ll tell you why I’m trying to become a cop when you tell me about the personal project you’re working on.”

“Well, then I look forward to the day you explain your weird obsession with cops.”

Did that mean Eleanor was planning to let him in on her project? Maybe even soon? William tried not to get overly hopeful. His eyes followed her as she stood up and headed to his fridge to grab another beer. She started to search for where he’d thrown his bottle opener–

“Who’s this? Your boyfriend?”

He was over there in a flash. He’d thought he’d put them all away. The photo was quickly snatched from her hands and shoved away from her prying eyes.

“I was just joking, but I’m pretty sure I can smell the jealousy coming off you,” she laughed. “An older man can be fun. Annoying, but fun. Did you take the picture?”

William almost lied. However, he’d never been very good with a camera. Not in the way Adam was. There was no reason to talk himself into a corner about a skill he didn’t have. “A friend. We don’t see each other very often. So he’ll do that for me on occasion.”

“Long distance relationship. sh*t can be tough. How long?”

William glanced at the spot where the photo had been placed. The words were automatic. Wistful. “A very…very long time.”

She co*cked her head to the side. Her eyebrow rose. Unsure whether to be amused or not. “Don’t tell me he groomed you–”

“Every single day Zeke has to deal with some of the worst scum on this earth and yet he’s never lowered himself to their standards. He’s a good man. Don’t ever imply anything other than that.” William’s voice came out like knives. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but it was instinctual. Zeke dealt with enough sh*t as it was for choosing truth over the easy way out. Even if it was just talk behind his back, talk he’d never hear, William felt he had to defend him.

“Jesus. Sorry. It was just a joke.”

“We only met once,” William explained with a slight grumble to his voice. “When I was a kid.” Technically, had only met once period, but William managed to phrase it in a way that didn’t reveal that.

Eleanor snorted. “Gotcha. So it’s hero worship that got you involved with him. I’d say don’t date your heroes, but too late I guess,” she laughed. “Ah. Here’s the f*cking thing.” She spotted the bottle opener. She undid the lid on her beer before heading back to the couch. She asked a question. William was quick to latch onto the new topic. He hadn’t meant to reveal anything about Zeke. Not this soon anyways. Still, if she showed him what her current project was, then William would trust her with a little bit more. He’d tell her why he was trying so hard to become a cop and a little bit of what made Zeke so important.

Sometimes, the guilt grew inside Adam like a broken damn.

He couldn’t help but look at Zeke Banks and see a potential victim of Jigsaw’s. To be fair, it wasn’t just him. Sometimes, Adam simply saw someone on the street shoving another. A person in a suit purely focused on their phone. A woman with a haunted, dead-to-the-world look. A man with bags under his eyes and needle marks in his arms. Hell. Sometimes when Adam lit a cigarette, he automatically wondered, could this have been the reason? He smoked cigarettes so he deserved to die? Was that it?

It was an outlook that haunted Adam. That followed him like a shadow. Of course, actual rapists and murderers and drug dealers had been killed by Jigsaw as well. But John Kramer had treated the drug addict in the same way he’d treated the drug dealer. How was that fair?

William was trying to make it fair though. He wanted to focus on actually dangerous people that only empowered more dangerous people. He wanted to change a corrupt system.

That invasive thought often followed the others for Adam. An attempt to rationalize his actions. Every other day, he thought, this is it. Never again. He was done. Yet even with him promising himself, he never followed through. William understood Adam’s thoughts. He made him feel not so alone. Even with them living in separate cities now, he at least had someone to talk to.

Outside of William, Adam had continued to try and contact his brother. David never answered, but each time Adam heard the voicemail and left a message. At the very least, David had to be noticing them so he could delete them and his invoice didn’t fill up. Maybe he even listened to them, though Adam wasn’t holding out hope for that. The next time he talked to his parents, he mentioned David. They said he’d called them about seven months ago about a new job he’d gotten somewhere else and that was it. Adam had opened up a little in the messages. He’d properly apologized to his brother. Sometimes admitted how scared and alone he was. He couldn’t bring himself to explain what had happened to himself. Even over messages that David was undoubtedly deleting. Still, Adam was always hoping David would pick up instead of letting it go straight to voicemail.

When not talking to the ghost of his brother or working for William, Adam had started his old, freelance work again. Meeting with and getting paid by a lot of upset spouses and vengeful employers.

Back to square one.

Nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

Sometimes he was afraid the lights would go out in his new apartment. The same as before. A pig face waiting for him. Ready to put him right back inside a game.

Zeke Banks deserved to be in a game.

He didn’t. Not really. Very few people, if anyone, deserved Jigsaw’s torment. But in thinking like Jigsaw? In trying to understand why he, himself had deserved his torment? Adam couldn’t help but place that logic on others. Sure, Zeke didn’t beat up witnesses. He’d never shot first, asked questions later. At least to Adam’s knowledge. He’d told the truth rather than protect the thin, blue line. But he also didn’t always wait for warrants. He didn’t call in information. He did things off the books. Those were a good enough reason to kill him-sorry. Test him. At least for John Kramer.

What did William think of these actions? Were they excusable? Paint a poorer, more human version of Zeke? Was it easy to scrape it under the rug? After all, William was planning on going outside the law in order to test the cops. The system. Was it that reasoning that made it excusable? Adam didn’t know.

Or what about the fact that the Banks’ family was clearly going through a rough patch? The husband and wife never getting along. A kid stuck in the middle. John Kramer would have seen that as enough reason to test any one of them. Maybe even the kid.

Adam doubted his spying was making it any better as he succumbed to William’s requests. As he followed and kept notes and took pictures.

He woke up. He either worked for some sleaze bag or he followed Zeke on behalf of William. He called his brother, leaving a message but never actually talking to him.

And when he dreamed? He dreamed of Lawrence. Of him leaving. Coming back for him. Saving him. Abandoning him. Adam had said goodbye only the act had been a mistake. The goodbye meant jacksh*t when he felt he would never be over the man. Even now, while out of the trap and technically free, he hoped Lawrence would come back for him. How sick was that? The man had f*cking betrayed him and still his heart hurt and his mind ached and every f*cking time he was stuck in the dark with the lights out, he wanted to scream for his doctor.

This wasn’t living.

It was another trap. Only this time, the chain wasn’t around Adam’s ankle. It was around his brain and the beating organ inside his chest. Unable to change. Unable to move on.

Sometimes he blamed Jigsaw for making his life this living hell. For making it worse than it had been before.

But other times?

Other times he wondered if it was his own fault. If maybe he’d just won his game, whatever the hell that meant, he might just be fixed.

The dreams started not long after Adam’s visit. Some days, Lawrence wondered if Adam had even been there. But no. He had to have been. Others had seen him. Had even called security on him before Lawrence had stopped them.

It started out as memories. The white fluorescents. The smell and taste of iron. Sweaty, sh*t covered hands gripping his arms. Desperately holding onto him. The dreams weren’t perfect memories. There were changes. What-if scenarios and impossible circ*mstances. Completely made up settings even.

But then the dreams started to warp once more. They grew to feeling like memories only…that wasn’t right. That was impossible. Lawrence had never met Adam at the hospital. Not before the games. Yet that persisting idea grew and grew. The blurred images became sharper. The narrative more stable as the dreams and thoughts grew more and more frequent. Even while waking, he could see it in his mind’s eye. Him, walking down the hallway. Adam, walking towards him. Only he was wearing an orderly’s uniform and smoking a cigarette. Lawrence threatened to have him fired. Adam didn’t care. Was dismissive with a witty retort and a hard bump to his shoulder. The more he thought about it, the more it felt real.

No… No, it just didn’t make sense. His mind was playing games with him. Perhaps he was combining Adam with Zep in some weird, twisted, guilt ridden way. Lawrence tried not to think of Zep. He avoided it if at all possible. He tried not to think about how he never told the police what had happened. He tried not to think about Zep’s family never knowing what happened to him. Not truly or why he did it. Lawrence had hated him. Had wanted to kill him so f*cking badly and yet…

They’d been in the same game. Only Zep had been alone. Alone and forced to commit a heinous act in order to survive whereas Lawrence…

He’d had Adam.

He hadn’t been alone.

And yet he’d wasted every second of it. He’d treated Adam like sh*t. Had tried to always maintain control and never listened to him. f*ck. Adam was the whole reason Lawrence was even alive. If not for him, Zep would have killed him. Sometimes Lawrence questioned if he’d even won his game. It felt more like stupid chance than anything.

Whether Zep entered his head or didn’t, still the odd dreams and memories of seeing Adam at the hospital continued. Eventually, it got so bad that Adam confronted one of the securities on it. When he tried to describe Adam without saying his name, the woman had been hesitant.

“Are you referring to…to Mr. Hindle–”

“Of course I’m not referring to Mr. Hindle,” snapped Lawrence. “I damn well remember him.” He pulled himself back. He could tell from the look on her face that he’d startled her despite not raising his voice. He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t. He just needed these dreams explained and pushed past. He needed over this. Over Adam. His life wasn’t Lawrence’s concern.

Slowly breathing out his nose, Lawrence explained again. “Lighter eyes and younger. Mid to late twenties. He…” Lawrence trailed off. The cigarette in hand. The threat to put it out or get fired. The sudden bump to his shoulder and sarcastic comment. “He smoked. He would smoke in the hospital despite how we told him constantly to put it out.”

Her eyes lit up in surprise. “Him? Sure. I remember him. We should still have his file.”

She moved slowly. Lawrence had to resist the urge to actively tap his cane in frustration. After far too long, she finally pulled out a file and set it on the counter. Lawrence quickly began flipping through it. Unsurprisingly, there were plenty of write-ups. Specifically about smoking and language. The name listed on the form was David Faulkner-Stanheight. Had that been Adam’s last name? Lawrence had never learned it. The exit form was an automated one and short. It claimed he’d simply stopped showing up one day. Almost a year and a half ago now.

Lawrence’s brow furrowed. “He never called back?” he questioned.

“Not even to say f- you and quit. I heard he was pulled into questioning by the cops, but I’m not certain. Really, he just left one day and never came back. He didn’t even get his personal effects from his locker, not that he’d had much to begin with. Is there a problem Dr. Gordon? Do you want me to contact him?”

“That won’t be necessary. I can handle it from here.”

Lawrence took note of the phone number and home address. From the secretary’s face, he wasn’t supposed to be doing this. However, her discomfort didn’t out weigh her worry about telling him ‘no’. Part of it was because of his position, but a greater reason was because of the cane. It was honestly annoying how many people could barely have a conversation with him anymore. More concerned about hurting his feelings as eyes always went straight to the cane or leg first.

With the information written down, Lawrence flipped the file closed and quickly slid it back. “Thank you for your time. You’ve been a great help.”

Technically, that remained to be seen. However, now Lawrence had a goal in mind. He needed to figure out what these memories were. What they meant, if they even had meaning. The first thing Lawrence did when he got to his office was call the phone number on file. It rang and rang–

“This is David. You know what to do.”

Lawrence hung up before the beep signaling a voice message could be left even sounded. His heart was raising. That hadn’t been Adam. It hadn’t. He’d said his name was David. And yet…

It wasn’t Adam. It really wasn’t, but f*ck if it wasn’t nearly the same voice. He thought about calling again but didn’t have the heart to do it. He had no idea what he could say. What he wanted to say. He still didn’t know if this was the person he needed to find. With that in mind, Lawrence put his phone away and turned to his computer. He began looking up David’s last known home address instead.

Chapter 7: A Crumbling sense of Self

Chapter Text

Some days Lawrence felt like he was living two lives.

He got up. Went to work. Came home. Sometimes John called. Needing the carefully balanced hands of a surgeon. Then, he went home again. He should be fine. He should be grateful. He had his life back. His family back. They were safe. They had survived.

Yet he felt more distant to them now than he had before the bathroom.

It was a reality he tried so very hard to ignore, but when Alison confronted him on it, it was impossible to walk away.

“I’d rather you be distant than…than this!” she exclaimed. They were stood by the front door. So similar to the night where everything had all gone wrong. The pattern was the same, but the words were different.

“Than what?” Lawrence sighed. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know. I don’t. Sometimes I wish we’d separated before…”

“Would it have been easier?”

“Yes.”

Leave it to Alison to always be straight forward. It had been a quality that had drawn Lawrence to her. Then a quality that had caused him to shut down and pull back. And now…now he didn’t know what he felt towards her.

“Larry.” Her voice dropped slightly. Kinder. She stepped closer– Lawrence didn’t notice the action. He didn’t even realize he moved. Alison did though. “You act like you’ll hurt me if you touch me. You can barely look at our daughter. You haven’t even hugged her. Not since you got out of the hospital.”

“What? Yes I–”

“No. She’s hugged you, but you haven’t returned it. You act like even holding you carries the same risk as holding poison or broken glass.”

“You should write poetry.” The words weren’t quite sarcastic. Just soft and quiet. Dead.

“I’m serious. I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this–”

“Then I’ll pack my bags and leave. If that’s what you want.” She didn’t say anything. “Is it?”

Rather than responding, Alison pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m trying to say I’m f*cking worried about you! I am! But right now, having you around Diana is doing more harm than good. You have to see that. Please. I don’t…I don’t know what I want anymore.”

“If you think the only reason for us to stay together should be out of guilt, then don’t,” Lawrence whispered. “You’re right. About Diana. My staying will only do more harm. Has done more harm.”

He glanced at her. Even he couldn’t tell if he wanted her to just agree and get this over with or for her to fight him on it. To tell him that she did want him to stay. That she still loved him despite all his faults and failings.

In the end, Alison didn’t decide. She rapidly blinked. Maybe tears. Maybe not. Then, abruptly turned away and went back to the bedroom.

Her words, though more symbolic than anything, had been accurate nonetheless. What was the point of surviving if Lawrence felt like even being near his family risked poisoning them? He hadn’t cherished them. He’d been too cold. Too callous. Yet he’d survived. He was fixed. That meant he should be better. John saw him as fixed. Useful. A valuable asset. Yet Lawrence had never felt more disconnected from his practice and his family than he did now. The only real, emotional connection left was with a man he’d abandoned. A man he’d tried to save in the only way he knew how. One who’d come back from the dead and haunted his dreams.

When he finally found the time to track down the address of the former orderly, David, Alison confronted him again. This time with clear confusion and hesitancy in her voice.

“Are you going to work?”

Ironically, Lawrence didn’t have the heart to lie to her. Not this time despite how what he was doing had nothing to do with her or their relationship. What was the point? She knew his pager hadn’t gone off. The phone hadn’t rung. He wasn’t scheduled to go in this late. Neither was he dressed for work. Despite all those signs, he might have lied before. Still in denial over just how bad everything had gotten between them. Now, he caved immediately. “No.”

She was silent for a long while. He finished tying his shoes. She didn’t speak again until his back was straight and his hand was on the door. “Are you coming back?”

What was Lawrence going to find? What was he even looking for? Or was he really just running? He couldn’t look at her. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. For everything I ever put you or Diana through. I never meant to hurt you. I just…I don’t think I wanted to admit how unhappy we were.”

It was a far cry from his words in the bathroom. Tortured and desperate and ripping from his ribcage.

I’ve always been happy with you!

It was remarkable the things a person could make themselves believe when they thought they wouldn’t live to see tomorrow.

He started to leave–

“Larry, wait!” The terror in Alison’s voice froze him to his core. Memories of hers and Diana’s screams. The arm holding the cane shook. He barely managed to keep himself standing as she grabbed onto his shoulders.

Filth covered hands. Shaking. Desperate. Trying to keep him there. Only he’d pulled away.

He’d pulled away.

He hadn’t cried when he saw Alison and Diana in the hospital. Too doped up and still trying to sort out the mess that was his mind. He cried now. His hand came off the handle. He covered his face. His shoulders shook as he tried to keep the sobs as quiet as possible. He felt Alison try and hug him, but even then he shrugged it off. He did feel like poison when they were around. Poison that he was afraid would drip onto them as they still struggled to heal from the trauma.

“Just because where we’re at isn’t good for Diana doesn’t mean she doesn’t need you. She still needs her father. She still needs you!”

Lawrence breathed in deeply. He forced the snot back. “I’m not going to kill myself,” he whispered.

“Then tell me. Tell me you’re coming back,” Alison demanded. “Or just don’t go.”

“I have to,” Lawrence forced out. “I have to…”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t.”

And finally, Alison backed off. It finally clicked that this was as far as she was getting. This was all Lawrence could give to her. No matter how much it hurt them both. “Just promise me. Promise me you’re coming back.”

He swallowed. “I will. When I do, we should discuss our living arrangement,” Lawrence whispered.

Alison let out a shaky sigh. It sounded like she’d been holding it in for years. That didn’t mean there wasn’t regret there. Yet a weight had been lifted. That was undeniable. “Ok. Ok. Just come back alive.”

“I will,” murmured Lawrence. He gripped the handle of the door again. This time he left and Alison didn’t stop him.

He went to the car and took out the printed out directions. He drove straight to the location. Unsurprisingly, somebody else was living in the apartment. The current tenant had no idea who he was talking about but mentioned the landlord lived in an apartment in the basem*nt. Lawrence went down and talked to the woman. He described Adam but used David’s name. The woman immediately recognized who Lawrence was talking about.

“That little sh*t did nothing but cause me trouble.”

“How so?”

“He came in early one morning. Looked like he’d been awake all night. His clothes were covered in blood. Cuts on his face. He packed his sh*t and left. The police came around looking for him the next day, but I had no idea where he’d gone. It gave quite the damn headache. I could see them staking out the building. Waiting to see if he came back, but he never did.”

“So you don’t know where he went?”

“No and I don’t wanna. Whatever sh*t he’s gotten himself into, the further it is from here the better.”

Lawrence looked away. sh*t. It was just a dead end–

“But if you need to find him, you could try talking to 204.”

“204?”

“The room number. The tenant there used to be his brother’s girlfriend or something. She might know something.”

Was this the ‘feminist, vegan, punk’? Lawrence had honestly thought Adam had just been talking bullsh*t in order to frustrate him. “And the name of David’s brother?”

“No idea. Never met him. Like I said, talk to 204. That’s all I’ve got.”

With the conversation at an end, Lawrence thanked her and quickly left. He went to 204 and knocked. Luckily, someone answered. It just wasn’t a woman. After an awkward back and forth and under a lie that David had stolen from him, the man finally went to get the renter of the apartment. If Lawrence were to just go by Adam’s description…well. It was surprisingly accurate. Maybe minus the implication of her being an incredibly angry person. She seemed more amused than anything by their conversation. Though that could easily be because there was no love lost with her and the Faulkner boys as she called them.

She remembered the morning the landlord was talking about. She’d been on only slightly better terms with David after breaking up with Adam. At least in a friendly, neighborly way. However, she described him as shaken and incredibly freaked out on that morning. He hadn’t explained what had happened. She’d only gotten as far as something about kidnapping? She’d asked if he’d owed someone money. If he’d f*cked up somehow. But he’d just kept saying ‘I don’t know why me. I don’t know why me.’ He’d left before the day was over. The police had come looking for him later but never found him as far as the woman knew. Just like what the landlord had said.

“Do you have any idea where he could have gone?”

“Home. Least that’s what he said. Not where his parents are living now. They moved a lot as kids, but only one city he ever referred to as home. Wait. Hang on. I may have something that could help.”

She left Lawrence in the doorway. A few minutes later, she was back with a photo in hand. Lawrence forced himself to swallow his own anxiety. He kept his limbs steady despite how he wanted to shake like a leaf. In the photo were three people. The woman in front of him and two men on either side.

His brain hadn’t been playing tricks on him. Creating some weird amalgamation of Zep and Adam. They were twins! Possibly identical twins, though Lawrence recognized Adam immediately. He stood more slouched and was also the one hanging off the woman. David was standing slightly farther apart and holding the camera at a bad angle. Both men were slightly younger than when Lawrence had known them. Early twenties rather than late twenties. Adam’s hair was the same. David seemed to wear his a little longer and shaggier. He also had a leather jacket in the photo. Something Lawrence couldn’t imagine Adam wearing.

“See that street sign in the back?” The woman pointed it out to Lawrence. He brought it closer to his face to better read it. “That neighborhood in that area. That was what David was referring to. You can keep the photo if it helps. I sure as sh*t don’t need it anymore.”

“Do you remember what highway you took to get there? Or interstate?”

“Sure.” She gave him some general directions with the photo that would give him an idea of what he should be looking for in the city. She also gave him the name of a restaurant. It had been both Adam’s and David’s favorite. If it was still there, and if he was still in the city, she believed without a doubt that he would have visited it recently.

Lawrence wrote everything down on the back of the photo. He felt a little bad, but clearly the woman didn’t care anymore since she was giving it to him. He left with a new goal in mind. A three hour drive ahead of him and still the chance he wouldn’t find anything.

He should just turn around. He should go home to his wife and daughter. Now that he was on this search though? It was like he couldn’t stop. He knew they were two separate people now. That David had worked at the hospital. What more did Lawrence want? Was he hoping to find Adam through David? To figure out where the man had gone?

Still, he didn’t know. But he continued. He got in the car and drove. He used his cellphone to call into work. That he’d be unavailable for at least the next twenty-four hours. He’d never called in like that during his entire career. Certainly not anything so last minute. There weren’t even questions though. Just a quick and pitying ‘of course, take your time’. Sometimes he felt like an invalid around them. More patient than doctor.

Lawrence drove into the night. When he got to the other city, he managed to find the restaurant. It was closed for the night though. He decided to rent a hotel room. He could keep driving around. Try to find the location in the picture. The night twisted everything though. It would be far more difficult to match the street corners. Better to sleep until the morning.

He found a spot in the general area. Nothing amazing but not a sh*thole either. There were rooms available. He rented one out and was given a key. The person who checked him in glanced around. Likely looking for bags. Upon seeing none, they didn’t offer to call someone to help him up. Their attention quickly turned back to the screen in front of them. Lawrence turned towards the elevator. He limped over and pressed the buttons for the third floor.

It was like divine intervention.

Or maybe something more insidious.

Stepping out of the elevator, Lawrence walked towards the designated room. He moved to unlock the door but never actually did. Instead, his eyes found the only other person in the hallway.

One of the cleaning people. He was listening to music and smoking as he organized his cart. Lawrence pocketed the keys. His hand searched for something else. Instinct. Automatic. He moved closer. He couldn’t help but stare. It was Adam, but it wasn’t. Like the picture, his hair was maybe an inch longer and more shaggy. And when the younger man turned towards him and jolted back? Lawrence could fully see two distinct scars on the man’s face. A set of scratches on the right side of his mouth. A much larger, clearly defined scar up high on his left cheekbone. The man quickly took his cigarette out of his mouth while fumbling to yank his earphones out.

“Jesus man. Don’t sneak up on people like that.”

Said the man who’d made the choice to block out the world and ignore everyone around him.

“You shouldn’t be smoking in here.” Lawrence didn’t mean for that to be the first thing he said. It was just instinctual. A parallel to the only concrete memory he had of David.

The man scoffed. Just as dismissive as Lawrence remembered. “You’re not my boss.” He took another drag as if to prove a point. “Whatcha need? A towel or something?”

Lawrence didn’t respond. He just stared. Stared at a face he knew but didn’t. So similar. So close to the same person but not. David had come home bloody and panicked. Mentions of kidnapping. He’d left with the police trying and failing to find him. Nearly a year and a half ago. Before it had started to come into the public eye, but there had to have been traps before…

He didn’t know where the words came from. Why he had to say it. Just something wormed its way out of his mouth. Something that wasn’t him. Words that felt like they were coming from John as he looked at this young man who hadn’ changed. Only the job had changed, but he was still just like Lawrence remembered him. Indifferent. Disconnected. What had John called Adam? Apathetic? What had John seen in his twin brother? A mirror image?

“Are you no longer grateful to be alive?”

The first look David gave him was confusion. Like he was talking to a crazy person. Maybe Lawrence was insane. Then, that confusion fell away. Panic. Fear. Like Adam, he expressed those emotions best with his eyes.

Lawrence reacted. He removed his hand from his pocket.

What did he want out of this?

What was he hoping to achieve?

This was insane!

Then why had he stolen the vial from the hospital? Why had he taken it with him? Why had this been where his mind had gone? He wasn’t this. He wasn’t like this. This wasn’t him! Yet there it was. In the back of his mind. The whisper of a gravelly voice. A guiding hand as they struggled just before Lawrence jabbed the needle into David’s neck.

There was a moment where the struggling continued. David even managed to break Lawrence’s grip on him, but it was too late by that point. His knees buckled. His face slammed into the floor. He rolled over. Tried to push himself back even as his limbs stopped responding how they should.

Lawrence limped forward. He used the cleaning cart to help support his weight as the cane had already fallen to the floor. He bent down over David’s wide-eye form.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” whispered Lawrence.

It was clear David didn’t believe him. His eyes rolled back and he passed out. Lawrence looked around. No one had come into the hallway. Not even a peak. Lawrence grabbed the younger man by the ankles. He slowly dragged him back to his room. He unlocked the door and dragged David inside before limping over to his dropped cane. He picked it up and grabbed the cart. Usually there was a place for these things on each floor. Now where…

He pushed it down the hallway until he found the closet. He pushed the cart in before turning around. He made sure to pick up the dropped cigarette as well before going back to the room. Still, no one looked out. There were no cameras around. Lawrence moved into the room. He propped his cane up before dragging David towards the bed. He hefted the man up, dropping him there before turning towards the chair that most hotel rooms had in one corner. Lawrence sat down with a tired huff. He stared at David. A face he knew but didn’t.

What the hell was he hoping to achieve?

William visited on occasion. He never planned to stay longer than a few hours. Usually just to retrieve the photos or anything of note that Adam had collected. The young man wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t going to risk any of that being sent in the mail. However, this night was different. A bad storm had suddenly cropped up and rather than leaving right away, William had decided to stay in town.

He didn’t even have a chance to ask before Adam immediately offered. “You can just crash here.”

William smiled. “Thanks. I’m gonna take a quick shower if that’s fine.”

Adam nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go get you some clothes to sleep in.”

Outside, the rain was picking up even more. Thunder followed lightning. It was quite a storm that might last as long as a few hours. It would certainly cause some of the streets to flood. Though thankfully not this one. Adam dropped off the spare set of clothes in the bathroom. William was a little taller than him, but Adam liked his clothes baggy so it should fit him just fine. When William came out, Adam was throwing a frozen pizza in the oven.

“Pepperoni?” questioned William.

“Supreme. So it’s got it on there.”

“Nice. Taken any jobs lately?”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “What? Tired of talking about Zeke Banks finally?”

“Oh, never. But I do want to know how you’ve been.”

The response was just so f*cking genuine and earnest, Adam couldn’t help but crack a smile. f*ck. Did he seriously find William’s insane obsession endearing at this point? Maybe. He forced the smile down. “Same sh*t as always. People cheating on spouses. Jaded siblings.” Adam shrugged. “Different city. Same filth.”

“Did you always want to do this?”

“I’m not a perve,” grumbled Adam.

William actually laughed. He sat down at the counter. Adam had one barstool. No kitchen table or proper chairs. There was a couch with a coffee table missing a leg. Adam was using some old phonebooks to prop it up. William got comfortable on the lone barstool as he replied, “I’m not talking about the subjects. I mean being a photographer. You told me you tried to go to college for it. Did you want to take pictures even as a kid?”

The question pulled out a lot of old memories. Adam rapidly blinked. “Yeah. I guess. I did. I uh…I was pretty shy until like…seventh grade? So before then if our family ever went anywhere I rarely asked for a toy. I just wanted one of those cheap, automatic cameras. Would hide behind it. Usually took pictures of David doing the wild sh*t and getting into trouble. Got a polaroid when I was twelve from my dad. Probably my favorite present from him. What about you? Ever had a favorite present from your dad?”

The question wasn’t accidental. Adam knew the moment the idea came to him that it would be a heavy one. The reaction was immediate. A twist of emotions flowed over William’s face. Love. Pain. Regret. Heartache. Anger. He crossed his arms against the counter. Bowed his head. For a moment, Adam honestly thought William wouldn’t answer. Adam was torn between pushing and changing the subject. He opened his mouth, but William’s soft voice stopped him.

“A sketch book,” William whispered. “It was…it was probably crap. Actually. But it might as well have cost a million dollars to me. He tried to get me a nice one. The nicest one we could afford.”

“Do you still have it?”

William shook his head. He was still staring at the table. “I tried to find it when I was made to pack up my things. I-I…I tried…they wouldn’t let me have more time to j-just…just look… I don’t have anything of my father’s.” His shoulders trembled. He didn’t risk saying anymore.

There’d been moments like this before. Bits and pieces of the trauma and hurt William had gone through. He wasn’t outwardly crying. At least, Adam couldn’t see any tears while William kept his head down. Adam had never met Pete Dunleavy. He’d never even heard of the crooked cop before meeting William. Seeing the younger man though? Seeing him like this? With nothing left of his father to hold onto? His most prized possession lost to time? Adam found himself hating Dunleavy. Actively hating him. A man that hadn’t just killed an innocent man but an innocent man who’d taken a risk. A risk despite having a son. Or maybe because he had a son. To set that good example. To try and show that being honest got you anywhere in this world.

But being honest didn’t. You could live your whole life doing good and still die destitute on the streets while corrupt cops stayed in power and rich politicians got reelected despite never having the people’s best interest in mind. Where was the justice in that?

Adam’s hand moved across the counter. His fingers shook as he slowly wrapped his grip around William’s exposed forearm. The younger man looked up with a start. He had been crying. Not many tears but enough to take note of.

“I’ll help you kill Dunleavy.” Adam didn’t know if he truly meant it. A part of him didn’t know why he’d said it. He’d been skirting about culpable deniability for a while now with how he was supporting William’s goals. And now he’d just promised he’d help him kill someone?

Did it really matter? It wasn’t like Adam hadn’t killed someone. What was the difference if he added blood to his hands?

He didn’t know why he was thinking like this. He tried telling himself he was crazy for thinking like this. He still didn’t know if he even believed the words. If he meant them. He just knew he saw William hurting and he wanted to help. To stop the pain in any way he could. Unfortunately, this was the only thing Adam could think of to raise William’s spirits.

“I told you. You don’t need to be more involved–”

“I will.” Adam said it again. Still he didn’t know if he was being honest, but he said it all the same. “I’ll help.”

William rapidly blinked. “Thank you,” he mumbled. He pulled back. Quickly wiped at the tears. “You ever draw?” He was changing the subject. Trying to move away from talk of his dad and past trauma. Adam let him.

“People always assumed I did. I was the artistic one in the family. Just because I was good with photography, I had to be good at drawing. You know? I wasn’t though. Just never really got into it.”

“You should see Eleanor’s drawings. Sketching whole contraptions from just from a few photos? It’s impressive.”

“She’s the one you met online. Right?” William had mentioned her briefly in passing. This time, he spoke of her more openly. Told Adam about their interactions and how he’d recently even invited her into his home.

Eventually, the timer on the pizza finished. They moved to the couch. Ate. The conversation moved easily from topic to topic. Too easily with average day events being intermixed with mentions of traps and murder. Adam hadn’t realized how badly he’d missed this. A part of him could still acknowledge this relationship was dangerous. A good bit of him didn’t care though. Not when he felt he couldn’t exist or connect with anyone outside of the demented connections that had become his life.

When done eating, Adam went to grab a spare blanket and pillow. He walked back into the living room–

The lights went out. He felt his entire body seize up. The curtains were all drawn. Not that it really mattered. If the lights in the building were out, the streetlights were probably out as well. It was ok. He was fine. He was still in his apartment. He could hear the rain outside. A roll of thunder. He was ok–

“sh*t. You got any candles?”

“N-No.”

“Where’s your lighter?”

Adam tried to breathe in deeply. “It should be on the kitchen counter.” He vaguely remembered where he’d last seen it. He could have walked over and grabbed it, only his body wasn’t moving. It was too dark. So dark. No light from anything or anywhere. Not from under the front door. Not through the cracks in the curtains. But he wasn’t really there. The rain was still–

It abruptly stopped. Silence. Adam’s breathing became more erratic. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t–

The whimper came out unbidden from his lips right as William said, “It’s not here. Did you leave it somewhere el-did you say something?”

Adam tried to say no. His fingers tore into the pillow he was still holding. He wasn’t there. He knew he wasn’t there. He was in his apartment. He was. He was out!

What came out though was another whimper hiding a name. “L-Lawrence?”

“Adam, you’re ok. Just hang on. I’ll find some light.”

William’s words sounded like they were coming through a tunnel. Adam tried to latch onto them, but each time it was like the thoughts slipped from his mind. His knees buckled. Ghost pains in his shoulder where he’d been shot and around the chained ankle came back. He was stuck here. He hadn’t gotten out. Where was Lawrence? He’d promised he’d come back! Where was he?! Why hadn’t he come back yet–

“Found it.”

The sudden flare up of a flame should have been comforting. A relief. A bit of light in the darkness.

A light on his face.

Quickly followed by hands around him and on him over his mouth and his nose hE’D FOUGHT BACK HE’D GRABBED AT LIMBS THE HANDS ON HIS MOUTH HAD TIGHTENEd plASTIC AND BLOOD filING HiS mOUTH WHYhAdN’THeFOUGHTbaCKHARDERWHeREWAsLAWRENCENonoNOhECOULDn’TdIELiKETHIS–

The flame abruptly went out as Adam felt arms around him. He screamed. He screamed for help. For Lawrence. He hadn’t fought back before. Not hard enough. He tried again. Each motion with more anger and more violence and more desperation only it still wasn’t enough. A hand came over his mouth. He couldn’t breathe! He couldn’t–

Shaking from exhaustion, the hand on his mouth moved away. Inch by inch. “Lawrence isn’t here.” The voice came out gasping. Exhausted and strained. “But I am. You’re out. You’re ok Adam. Y-You’re out.”

An object was forced into his hands. His lighter. Adam desperately flicked it on as he continued to openly cry. Someone started banging on the door. Adam flinched. They were yelling. Adam just held onto his lighter tighter. His eyes briefly followed William as the man quickly got up and went to the door. His hair was tussled. There were cuts on his cheek. Adam looked down at his own fingernails and the blood that was stuck under them. Had he done that?

Too traumatized and still caught up in his own mind, Adam didn’t hear the conversation between William and the neighbor. He didn’t know how William convinced the person to go away and that despite the screams, no one had been murdered inside the apartment. Adam just knew that when he glanced up again, the door to the front of the apartment had been closed and William had disappeared.

It was William that was here with him. The guy who was a few years younger than Adam with black hair and dark eyes. Despite that, William’s name wasn’t the one that escaped his lips. “D-Don’t leave me. P-Please. L-Lawrence. W-Where a-are you? P-Please…”

William appeared again. More blankets and pillows in hand. He pulled the blanket over Adam’s shoulders. “Sorry. Just me.” He sounded genuinely upset about that. That the one Adam was screaming for couldn’t be here to answer Adam’s calls. William got in closer. He took over holding the lighter from Adam’s trembling hands. Adam curled in towards William. Desperate to know he wasn’t alone in the dark apartment.

As the two men remained curled up on the floor, neither noticed the blue light of Adam’s phone going off on the corner of the kitchen counter. The caller ID read: DAVID.

Chapter 8: Contingencies

Chapter Text

There were similarities between Amanda and the detective. Similarities she hated. Similarities that were useful. They were more alike than she cared to admit. So much so that they could barely exist in the same space.

Amanda loved John.

She did. When she hadn’t had anyone, he’d been there for her. He’d helped to pick up her broken pieces. Had directed her confusion and anger at the world. Crafted it into a purpose. Something to be proud of.

Then John said things like how revenge and emotion couldn’t be a part of the equation. You had to be removed from a test subject.

But if that was the case, why the f*ck had he chosen his own f*cking doctor for a trap?! Where was the f*cking logic in that? How could he look at her and claim he wasn’t angry? That he didn’t despise Lawrence Gordon?! Why had he chosen Eric Matthews as her first true test? She couldn’t remove herself from that. Couldn’t ignore the hatred she felt for him! If Matthews had never lied, then maybe…

Maybe she never would have ended up here.

Why had he made her stake out Adam? She hadn’t…

She couldn’t…

She hadn’t been able to see what John saw. He was just…just some f*cking guy. Why did he deserve the same torment as Matthews?

What was the point?

The detective understood that. Understood what it felt like to be angry and vengeful. That some people just didn’t deserve a chance. She hated him. Understood him. Understood why he didn’t create a way to get out when they worked on a trap together without John’s direct help.

That similarity was their undoing. Unable to exist in the same space. Amanda believing to a fault that she would outlast the detective.

Only she wouldn’t. Would she? Because the detective now knew. He knew and he was going to tell John if she didn’t do exactly as he wished.

She had no one. Only her guilt to weigh her down and her anger as a companion.

Except…

She’d done the doctor his f*cking favor. She deserved her own f*cking favor. The detective didn’t know about the doctor. Amanda wasn’t supposed to know about him. Only John. But she did. Maybe…f*ck. How the f*ck was that stupid c*nt supposed to help her? She couldn’t trust him! She couldn’t trust anyone. If he knew, he could use the information against her too. She couldn’t let John find out. She’d rather die than let John find out!

Only…

Was it desperation? A small, withered and dried up sense of hope? Or just that the doctor owed her a god damn favor and she’d beat it out of him if she had to? Wherever the motivation came from, Amanda picked herself up. She snatched her phone from the work table.

Lawrence went through David’s pockets. He found a phone. He pressed the two buttons to unlock it. There was very little. No text messages. He probably didn’t have a plan. Just numbers for family members that were under labels rather than names. A saved number for work. Two random names. A ‘Corporate Bitch’ which was likely a boss or something. There wasn’t a number associated with Adam.

But there were dozens upon dozens of missed calls.

The number was the same. Again and again. Going back as far as he could, it looked like the person had called nearly once a day. Certainly two or three times a week. Lawrence couldn’t help it. He called back.

He waited.

And waited–

“Adam Stanheight. Beep.”

The sarcastic ‘beep’ was quickly followed by the real thing. Lawrence hung up before a message could be recorded. It wasn’t a lot to go on. Only three words. In those three words, he’d heard the difference though. He could tell it wasn’t David’s voice but truly Adam’s. It was enough to cause a full body shudder to run down Lawrence’s spine. His eyes traveled back to David’s slack body.

Clearly they weren’t on speaking terms. Did David even know what had happened to Adam? Each call had been an incoming one. David hadn’t called back once. Had Adam left voicemails? Had David listened to any of them?

It was a curious thought.

And what of David’s game? Lawrence hadn’t paid particular attention to the Jigsaw case until he’d become a suspect. Even then, he’d glanced over details on any traps. The dead had been named, but many of the living victims had kept their names hidden. The only reason Lawrence had known of Amanda was because he’d been there during the police interview. He knew of victims now. A few alive, many more dead, due to John’s information. The only other one Lawrence had read about outside of John’s information was Bobby Dagen. Though that was largely because he’d chosen to take his little experience and monetize it. Lawrence often wondered what John thought of that.

But back to David, what of him? Why had John never mentioned there had been another before Amanda? And it had to have been before Amanda going by when he’d disappeared.

Why had the police never put out an APB on him? Maybe because their attention had to be directed elsewhere? Because they honestly didn’t think David was involved? Was David involved?

No. No. He’d seemed genuinely distressed and shocked upon Lawrence’s arrival. It was doubtful he was involved in any way. What had caused John to pick him though? And then Adam? Had it been coincidence or purposeful?

Suddenly, David started to cough. Lawrence was up in a flash. He was quick to roll the younger man over. Stomach vile and chunks of what looked like pizza hit the bedsheets. He was having a bad reaction to the drug. His eyes opened briefly before rolling back into his skull. Lawrence checked his pulse. Elevated, but not to a critical degree. Right at that moment, Lawrence’s phone rang. He kept one hand on David to keep him steady. The other dug through his pockets. He answered without looking to see who it was.

“I’m only going to f*cking say this once so f*cking listen. Ok? I need your help.”

Lawrence blinked in shock. “Amanda?”

“Who the hell else!? Will you help me or not!?”

“Yes,” Lawrence immediately said. “It’s lucky you called. I could actually use an extra pair of hands right now.”

“Are you f*cking serious!”

“Think of it this way, I’ll simply owe you another favor. Won’t I?”

She didn’t respond right away. Lawrence could just barely hear her irritable, heavy breathing in the background.

“Amanda, if you truly need my help, then I need yours. This isn’t a situation I can easily get out of by myself.”

“f*ck! God damn it! Fine! Where are you!?”

Lawrence gave her a detailed list of instructions. When he hung up, he turned all his attention towards David. Thankfully, it looked like this was a minor inconvenience and not something life threatening. Still, best to keep an eye on it. Despite how Lawrence still wasn’t sure what he wanted to achieve with this, killing Adam’s brother undoubtedly wouldn’t help matters.

Zeke was pretty sure the guy was staring at him. It wasn’t obvious. Honestly, if Zeke didn’t have training when it came to tailing someone, he might not have noticed. Or he could just be imagining it. Being the most hated cop in the entire force certainly made you paranoid. He grabbed the cereal and threw it into the cart. He shouldn’t be f*cking grocery shopping on his god damn day off. At least not by himself. Lisa had said she’d wanted to go with him only to then dump a f*cking list on him a mile long claiming she forgot she had a goddamn pilates class. Sure, a Monday morning was no Saturday night, but come on! Grocery shopping was boring as f*ck but he’d tried make it like a family thing for once. Not even Jake was here with him though. He was at a friend’s house since school was closed today. Plans that Zeke had apparently forgotten about which had of course led to another f*cking argument with Lisa before she’d left–

Ok. The guy was definitely following him around the store. Right?

Zeke decided to bite the bullet. On the off chance he was wrong, he phrased it in a way that implied he’d been the one staring. Not the other way around. “Do I know you?”

The man jolted. He didn’t seem embarrassed. He could just be good at hiding it. Or maybe he’d jumped because Zeke had so abruptly rounded on him. Zeke forced himself to cool down. He was starting to jump to f*cking conclusions. Going crazy from the stress of just f*cking everything.

“Sorry. Sorry,” Zeke rushed out. He quickly lied through his teeth. “Was bothering me. Felt like I’d seen you somewhere for sure.”

“You’re good,” the man replied with an easy laugh. “Uh, I don’t think so. Though…hey. I feel like I know you. Were you in the paper recently or…”

Zeke groaned. “Not really…”

“You were! Now I remember. It wasn’t front page or anything, but I seem to remember something about a tenth year anniversary. It was definitely your picture next to it.”

Yep. And just how f*cked up was that?

“Sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

“No. No. Just don’t see much reason in celebrating the tenth year of a man’s death.”

“I didn’t realize that was what it was about. Sorry.”

Zeke shook his head. “I didn’t know the guy personally. Just a f*cked situation that I didn’t really need reminding of. The anniversary is about the killer being caught. But having it printed in the f*cking papers again makes me feel more like a god damn poster child for the city to be like ‘Look! We got some good f*ckers in the mix!’ while it reminds every other god damn cop why they hate me and the rookies shouldn’t trust me.”

“But you caught the killer. Right? Why would the other cops hate you?”

“Because the killer was my own f*cking partner. I’m the snitch. So now I got nobody I can f*cking trust.”

“No one?”

“They’re all crooked pieces of sh*t anyways.” Zeke shook his head. “Sorry. f*ck. Sorry. I shouldn’t be dumping all this sh*t on a goddamn stranger.”

“Hey, I asked. And it’s William, by the way. So there. No longer strangers.”

“Cute,” Zeke sarcastically replied. “Well, William, since I let you into my sh*tty life, what f*cking cat did that to your face?”

The young guy laughed. “An actual cat.”

“No sh*t.”

“Yeah. My cousin’s. Not a big fan of mine as you can see. He moved here a while back but this is my first time seeing his place and everything. Hey, actually, I’ve never been in this store. I’ve been wandering around for a bit but haven’t found it. Any idea where the hell syrup is? I would have thought it would be in this aisle with the cereal and breakfast stuff but…”

Zeke snorted. “Yeah, this store can be kinda confusing as hell.” He started to push in one direction. The man followed. “I feel like they saw somewhere that if you move sh*t around, it makes people stay longer and buy more. I’ve found it just confuses and pisses people off.”

The man laughed.

They went around the corner and down two aisles. Zeke raised an eyebrow when William grabbed the most processed, brightest, food color filled bottle he could find. Zeke couldn’t help it. The sarcasm came out immediately. “Is your cousin eight?”

“Naw. But he does have a sweet tooth. What? You got an eight year old?”

“Do I have an eight year old? Do I look like the kind of guy who eats Fruity Pebbles?”

William laughed again. Zeke kept assuming each noise that came out of William’s lips would be clearly forced. Like he was just humoring Zeke. Felt obligated to after Zeke dumped his bullsh*t on the guy. Only this guy was a master at pretending to seem genuinely engaged or…

Or he just was genuinely engaged. It was more open, more honest than any recent conversation Zeke had. With his father or even with his own f*cking wife. Even most conversations with Angie nowadays were just arguing. And Boz? He was his friend. Their kids played together. But lately something had been telling Zeke he couldn’t even trust him on ops. The guy still looked after Zeke’s son on occasion, but when Boz asked why Zeke hadn’t called for him as backup during a past case, Zeke had been forced to lie. He’d said there hadn’t been time, but that wasn’t right. He didn’t know why he didn’t want Boz watching his back. However, the moment the feeling latched on, it hadn’t let go. Jesus. Where had his life gone so wrong that he was having a more human moment with this guy in the grocery store than with any of the people he actually knew? f*ck–

“Hey, earth to Zeke? You ok man?”

“Hmm? Yeah. sh*t. Sorry. Just got a lot on my plate–hang on. I didn’t give you my name.”

“I read about you in the paper. Remember? Talking to you just kind of jogged my memory.”

“I highly doubt it had my nickname printed out.”

“Naw, but you don’t seem like some posh f*cking prick that would actually go by Ezekiel, and there’s not many nicknames you can get from that. Lucky guess.”

The momentary confusion and brief warning sounds going off in Zeke’s head were quickly appeased. This guy wasn’t following him or some sh*t. He needed to calm down and stop being so f*cking paranoid. It was just a coincidence. Nothing more. Zeke snorted. “Damn right. Only one who calls me Ezekiel is Marcus-sorry. My father. And he always uses it just to yell at me.”

“Fathers can be like that.”

“Yeah, well, it’s different when you used to work with them.”

“He’s a cop too?”

“Was. Early retirement. Just last year actually.”

“I can’t tell if you’re happy or not about that.”

“Probably both,” admitted Zeke. “It wasn’t exactly a planned retirement. f*cker was up my ass more than anyone else, but Marcus also had my back.” Zeke started to walk. He had a few more things he needed to get. The younger man continued to follow. It seemed he wasn’t done shopping either as he grabbed something from the shelf.

“Why’d he retire? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Naw. Was in the papers anyways. Like I said. It happened about a year ago. He assaulted another officer after I got shot–”

“You were shot!”

Zeke couldn’t help but snort. Even Lisa hadn’t been as shocked or upset as William sounded just now. Really, if he thought about it, the moment Lisa knew he wasn’t about to keel over and die, she’d sounded more annoyed than anything. Zeke tried not to think of that. He focused on William. A bemused smile graced his lips. “You never had a family member in the military or police force. Huh?”

“No…” William slowly admitted. Jesus, the guy still looked concerned. It was weird. Zeke could tell it was at least a little bit weird. Name or no name, they still were strangers. Weighing against the weirdness was just the feeling that someone-finally someone!-seeming to care about Zeke’s well-being.

“People get shot. It happens,” Zeke said, trying to downplay the whole situation. In truth, he’d been f*cking scared. It was the first, and so far only, time that he’d actually gotten shot. Not shot at, but physically hurt by a bullet.

“Still, didn’t you have backup?”

“Should’ve. Sometimes keeping your nose clean doesn’t pay. Just means everyone is conveniently looking elsewhere when a bullet’s headed towards your back.”

“I’m at a police academy. Currently.”

“No sh*t. You gonna shoot me in the back too?”

“The opposite, really. I’m starting to think you’d be the only person worth having as a partner.”

A sad laugh left Zeke’s lips. “You don’t want to be my partner.”

“I don’t know. You haven’t exactly convinced me you’re not a good person to have as a partner.”

“Seriously? I got a massive f*cking target on my back. If you’re smart, you’ll stay behind the blue line.”

“Maybe,” murmured William. “I’d say being a decent person trumps the safety of the blue line.”

“You’re f*cking crazy. You know that? All you rookies talk like that or is it just you?”

“Just me, unfortunately. Honestly, there’s a few people in my class that feel like psychopaths.”

“I know the type. And you’ll unfortunately have to get used to them if you’re really going to stick it out being a cop. Trust me. Nothing the system loves more than a psychopath with a badge.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Zeke turned the cart. He was pretty much ready to check out after a quick glance over everything. He side-eyed William. “You done or…”

“Oh. Yeah. Got a few other things I need to grab. Hey, thanks for an interesting conversation. And for helping me navigate the store.” William offered his hand.

Zeke took it. “Heh. Yeah. Can’t believe it, but I wasn’t bored out of my f*cking mind getting everything on my wife’s shopping list. I’ll see you around, William…”

“Schenk. William Schenk,” he said as the handshake ended.

“Banks. Though you probably already knew that from the paper.”

“Yep. I’ll see you around Zeke.”

The young man started to push his cart away. Zeke should have left it at that. Somehow, their back and forth, despite new and short, was an easy, comfortable thing to fall into. Zeke automatically called after him. “Hey, if you’re smart, you’ll stay clear of me rookie!”

“I guess I’m not as smart as I thought!”

Zeke snorted at that. He shook his head. What a f*cking character. If he wasn’t careful, the police force would chew him up and spit him out. Still, there was something about the genuine optimism that brought a smile to Zeke’s face. It was a smile that he didn’t completely realize was there. Not forced or over exaggerated. Natural. Simple. Its existence only came to the forefront of his mind when he got home and Lisa found him putting up the groceries.

“What the hell are you smiling at? Did you get the baking soda?”

“No. It wasn’t on the list.”

“Yeah, because I told you to add it before I left.”

“No, ya didn’t!”

And there went Zeke’s smile as they devolved into arguing again. At least their son wasn’t around to see it. This time.

Adam woke up alone.

He had no memory of getting to the couch. A blanket was tightly curled around his body. A pillow under his head. The curtains were drawn, but the room was well lit. The lights must have come back on during some point in the night. William wasn’t around. The bathroom door was open. No sounds came from any corner of the apartment. Adam’s chest ached a little. William had left him too.

Of course he had. Adam had f*cking attacked him last night! f*ck. He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t. He’d just been so lost in his own head…

Sleeping with the kitchen light on or a lamp in the room had just been instinctual. He hadn’t thought of how he’d react with the lights off. Off without a way to turn them back on. Complete darkness. Unexpected and unplanned. He knew he didn’t like the dark from the brief moments he’d flick a light on or off. He never would have expected that his mind would break so quickly under the right circ*mstances though.

And now he’d pushed someone else away. First Lawrence. Now William. That was all Adam was good for. There was a reason he was always distant. He preferred interacting through his lens rather than in person. What was the point in surviving Jigsaw’s trap? He was just wasting space. Still stuck in an endless cycle–

Adam jolted upright as he heard the door open. In walked William with at least six very full bags of grocery items. “Wh–”

“He got shot! And I didn’t know! How did I miss it!?”

Adam blinked in confusion. William moved with enough energy that he just might burst. He seemed irate. But also elated? Maybe? The cuts on his cheek had scabbed over. They looked pretty awful in the light, but thankfully not deep. Adam glanced at his fingers. The brownish specs were still stuck under his fingernails. He needed to wash his hands. He glanced back at William and all the items being taken out.

“What did you buy?” exclaimed Adam. He pushed himself up and slowly crept towards the kitchen.

“I was gonna make pancakes.”

“That is way more than what you’d need for pancakes…”

“What?”

Adam’s brow narrowed. Even if William had just been trying to be nice and wanted to fill up Adam’s fridge and cupboard, he would have probably looked to see what Adam already had. Only he hadn’t. He definitely had the sh*t for the pancakes. But otherwise? It was just a bunch of random sh*t. Some of which Adam would use but a lot he wouldn’t have normally gotten.

So William had bought a bunch of sh*t without thinking…

And normally he was always thinking.

And he’d come in all over the place…

Talking about someone getting shot…

Adam suddenly shot William an incredulous look. “You stalked Zeke!”

“No! I ran into him. Purely by chance,” William defended.

“And then you just so happened to follow him around the entire store while buying whatever you could find so you didn’t look like a creep. Huh?”

“No. I picked up everything around the store so he thought I wasn’t just humoring him and being kind listening to him vent.”

“You talked to him!”

“Yeah.”

“William, you can’t just do that!”

“You’re acting like I can’t hold a perfectly reasonable conversation.”

Adam leaned against the counter and groaned into his hands. “What if you’d said something that wouldn’t have made sense coming from a stranger? I know you think you’ve known him since you were twelve, but he doesn’t–”

“I have known him. And I talked my way out of anything that seemed too personal.”

Adam groaned again. Normally, he would have believed William. The young man could be incredibly charming and quick with his tongue. But when it involved Zeke Banks? Adam couldn’t tell if William was actually being honest, or if he was so deluded that in his mind the encounter had gone fine when in reality Banks was getting a restraining order as they spoke. “What was this about him being shot?” sighed Adam.

“He got shot on the job! f*cking force didn’t have his back. They must not have released his name in the papers. I knew his father had been forced to retire early, only everything was phrased so weirdly and glossed over. Probably done to make the force look good and hide whatever Marcus did to the people who failed to back Zeke up.”

“Uh huh,” Adam sarcastically mumbled.

“That’s definitely it. Marcus deserves to die for the things he did and enacted under Article Eight, but I can at least agree with his actions in defending Zeke. At least in this instance.”

Adam rolled his eyes hard. “Can you now?”

“Yes.” William kept talking, clearly not catching on that Adam was kind of making fun of him.

Adam softly laughed to himself. He noted his phone going off. He walked over and saw there was a message from a client. He’d already followed her husband and taken a few compromising photos. Apparently, she wanted something even more concrete though. Adam quickly responded he could take the job. He quickly checked to see if he’d missed anything else–

“f*ck!”

His sudden shout had William finally stop with his excessive rambling about Zeke. “What? What!?”

“David called me! f*ck, it was last night. I must have f*cking missed it.”

“Call him back!”

Adam quickly did. He waited with baited breath– “This is David. You know what to do.”

“f*ck!” Adam slammed his hand down on the table. He forced a deep breath as the beep went off. “sh*t. David, I…I’m sorry I missed your call. I am. Just…I want to talk. I want to talk to you. To meet up. If that’s even possible. Please. I miss you. I just…please call me back. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you called. I didn’t ignore you on purpose. Just call me back. Please.” With a tired sigh and a reluctant hand, he hung up.

“He could call back. Maybe he’s ready.”

“Or maybe he called me drunk off his ass without even realizing it,” sighed Adam. There was no telling what would happen now. He started to rub the sand out of his eyes. He’d slept for almost the entire night, but he still felt exhausted. Looking over, his eyes focused on the cuts again. “I’m sorry.”

William’s fingers ghosted over them. “Could’ve been worse.”

“It shouldn’t have happened.”

“You didn’t know who I was. It’s not your fault,” repeated William.

Adam painfully swallowed. “Have you ever felt like that? Not…n-not knowing what’s real from what’s in your head?”

“No. I hope I never experience that either.”

“Me too,” whispered Adam. There weren’t many people he’d wish to go through that kind of pain. His eyes moved over the half put up groceries. “Were you really just out to get sh*t for pancakes?”

“Yes. Everything else wasn’t…planned. But yeah. I was going to the store for you. I didn’t intend on running into Zeke. Just happened. Speaking of, you need to get a cat.”

“Why…”

“Because I told Zeke you have a cat. Also, you’re my cousin.”

Adam let out another groan which slowly warped into deranged laughter. He wondered if he’d ever stop being surprised by William’s obsession. William returned the laughter. Adam grinned. It was hard to say if William realized Adam was partially laughing at him or not. Really, it didn’t matter. Adam wasn’t alone. At least William had come back for him.

Chapter 9: It was just a Game

Chapter Text

One day, David woke up to the taste of blood…

And metal…

His life drastically changed that day.

He’d been picked up by cops after being found wandering the streets. Hands stiff with dried blood and and still bleeding from the mouth. They’d interrogated him first. Had taken samples. They hadn’t been able to prove the blood on his hands wasn’t his though. Nothing conclusive. Not a good enough sample. And when they went back to the empty warehouse? David had sworn he’d given them the right directions. Yet they’d found nothing. Not a body. Not a device. Not a tape or a creepy f*cking puppet. Nothing.

The cops had started to imply that maybe David had hurt himself. That he was making sh*t up. With no proof of an actual murder happening-because that’s what he was. A murderer. David had f*cking killed a guy. His eyes had opened a-and–a-and h-he’d–

In the end, David had been let go. He’d gone straight to the apartment and packed his sh*t. Whoever had f*cking done that to him was still out there. He wasn’t crazy! He wasn’t! And what if the police did find something? What if the body suddenly showed up and David’s DNA was on it somehow? The cops hadn’t believed him already. It wouldn’t have taken much for them to quickly turn on him. Think maybe he was the sick freak doing this.

So David had left. He’d gone back to the city where he’d lived between the ages of seven and ten. Where he still visited, from time to time. Or had. With Adam.

He got a new job. A new apartment. He called his parents when some distance had happened between himself and the near death experience. When it felt less like he might get knocked out by a shadowy figure and put into another torture device.

He didn’t call Adam.

He’d thought about it. On occasion. Had played with the idea. He’d held out though, and not just because he’d previously deleted and blocked his brother’s number. Their last conversation hadn’t exactly been great. And then there’d been the doubt. That Adam wouldn’t believe him. That he’d think David was just as crazy as the cops had. He hadn’t told his parents why he’d suddenly moved after all. They’d think him a nutcase.

Then, the news stories had started to come out. It was months after the whole thing, but for the first in a long time, David felt like he might not be crazy. There’d really been a trap. A f*cked up game. A puppet. It had happened to others. Others who…who hadn’t been so lucky.

When he got the call from the unknown number, he’d ignored it at first. He’d been in the middle of working anyways. Later, he’d noticed a message had been left. He’d listened to it–

“It’s Adam! J-Just-Just call me back. Ok? I-I…” There was silence for a long time. David had been barely able to hear the ragged breathing on the other end.

Then, it had ended.

Adam had sounded bad. His voice rough. He’d probably been drinking all night. Hungover and guilt making him call more than anything. That assumption had somewhat changed though as eventually, Adam continued to call. David never answered. Even when he wasn’t busy. At first, he just started deleting the messages. After almost a month had passed though, he began to listen in on a few. Not every one, but he’d sit there and listen. Most were short. A few Adam talked about his day but he was…it was like he was always holding something back. In not one of the messages had he properly said sorry though. Or at least it hadn’t felt like it. Adam was just trying to get the easy way out. He was pretending everything was fine and trying to reconnect when things weren’t fine and Adam had said some nasty sh*t in the past.

But then Adam did apologize. A better, more real apology than David had expected after months of ignoring his brother.

“Neither of us really expected to end up where we are.” A sad laugh. “At least your job gave you health benefits. I shouldn’t have talked sh*t about it. Talked…talked down to you. Like somehow I was so much better off. You deserved better. You’re not a failure, David. I’m sorry. I really am.”

Then, another message. One that finally sounded like Adam was trying to be honest. At least about himself. He was trying to tell David whatever he’d been holding back, despite how the message ended up sounding even more cryptic than usual.

“Things aren’t ok, David. They’re not but…they are? And I guess that’s the problem? I’m fine-at least better. But I shouldn’t be? I don’t…I feel like if I explain everything over a voice message, you wouldn’t believe me. Just…I…heh.” Laughter had built up. Breathless and quickly crazed. A sound unlike anything David had heard from his brother. “I think I’m losing my mind? Maybe? Or maybe I’m sane for the first time? Like I finally have a purpose. I’m…I’m doing more than just taking dirty pictures with a camera. That’s got to count for something. I…f*ck. I just need to talk to you. Please. I feel like…you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The message had ended. It had disturbed David more than all the other ones. He’d hesitated before calling back though. He’d gone to work instead. Had thought on it. Had tried to decide if Adam was just being dramatic or really in trouble. He wasn’t sure which it was, but he’d ultimately decided that on his break, he’d finally call Adam back. For better or worse, it was time for them to talk.

Then, the strange man with the cane had come up. Had spooked David–

Are you no longer grateful to be alive?

Some people are so ungrateful to be alive. But not you. Not anymore.

David had heard when the police identified the Jigsaw killer. He’d seen the face and the name associated with it. He hadn’t known how to feel. It wasn’t like he’d seen the man or heard his real voice during the trap. He’d never heard of John Kramer before now. He didn’t know how to feel beyond a little bit justified that the thing that had nearly killed him, made him run away from so much, was on borrowed time. The police or the cancer would get him in the end.

Neither had David recognized the man with the cane. He’d never come across any of the articles mentioning Dr. Gordon’s miraculous reappearance and sawn off leg. He didn’t know who he was, but he’d recognized the words. The threat. He tried to run, only for a painful prick to press into his neck.

The world went fuzzy. David collapsed to the ground. He rapidly lost feeling in his limbs as a voice spoke to him through a tunnel.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

David’s eyes slipped shut.

He didn’t wake up to the taste of blood and metal. He was groggy though. HIs back hurt. His head hurt. His stomach painfully twitched. Someone was arguing with someone else. A man and a woman? What…

He jolted back. His eyes flashed open before squinting at the light. His wrists were bound. His ankles. He jerked around. The people in front of him stopped arguing. “What is this?! What the f*ck is this!? Help! Help! Hel–”

He jolted at the sudden, hard slap that went across his face. He stared into the face of a woman as she knelt in front of him. Her hair was long and tied back. She narrowed her eyes. “No one can hear you here, so how about you save us all the headache and shut the f*ck up.” She harshly pushed against the chair as she stood back up. David actually tilted backwards. For a split, terrifying second, he thought his head was going to slam into the concrete floor. At the last second, David jolted forward and landed back on his feet.

His neck ached from the sudden force. His head was pounding. Pins and needles could be felt all up his arms and legs. He rapidly looked around. Tried to find any sign of where he was. The room was cluttered. All manor of instruments that looked like they belonged in a f*cking Hellraiser movie were laid out. David started to sweat. His breathing started to accelerate again. No. No! He’d gotten out! He’d won! Why was he here again–

“I killed him.”

David’s head whipped back around to the woman. She was giving this weird, wide-eyed stare. Like she knew him or something. David shivered under her gaze.

“As I told you–” It was the man with the cane. He looked far too normal to be in this situation. Like a man sitting in an office meeting versus wherever here was. He leaned on his cane as he looked at the woman. “That was Adam you killed. And as we’ve already established, you didn’t really do a good job of that. Did you?”

The woman snapped something back at the man, but David didn’t hear it. Adam was… No. No, he…he couldn’t be…

David’s face grew flush. His breathing was no less frantic; though the rhythm of it did change. He sucked in a deep breath and shouted, “I’ll kill you, you motherf*ckers! If you killed Adam, you’re dead! f*cking dead! You hear me! f*ck you!”

All arguing stopped. The man with the cane grew an almost wistful look. Like he’d heard David say those same words before. Or something similar. The man sighed. He continued to speak far too calmly considering the situation. “Weren’t you listening? She didn’t actually succeed.”

The woman was covering her face now. It was hard to say if she was about to explode again or start crying.

David’s shoulders shook. “What?”

“He was dead,” whispered the woman. Her voice choked. “He was.”

“Clearly, he wasn’t. Though considering the state you left him in, someone had to have helped. He couldn’t have left by himself,” mused the man.

“Hoffman?” whispered the woman. “That doesn’t make any f*cking sense.”

“No. But then, who else knew of the house? Of Detective Matthews? Only Hoffman could have moved the pair of them. Though I don’t understand why he’d simply let Adam go. Matthews hasn’t appeared. Not alive or as a corpse.”

They were talking about people and places and events David had no idea about. There was so much information. Too much information. It brought forth the sick, terrifying feeling that they didn’t plan to let him live.

The man’s eyes found his again. He spoke to David now. “You were tested.”

Tested? So was this really about Jigsaw? About David’s f*cked up game? He looked at these two people. Tried to connect the dots. To figure out who they were. He just didn’t have the information. He’d been trying to ignore this part of his life. Not fall down a rabbit hole reading every single article that came out about the f*cker. He swallowed. “What is this?” whispered David. “Are you f*cking interns for a serial killer or some sick sh*t?”

The woman looked irritated with his words. Her fists curled even tighter. Knuckles taunt and white. The man actually laughed. His lips twitched up into a smile. “Have you both always done that?”

“I don’t understand–”

“Using humor when put in stressful situations. Adam did it too.”

David didn’t like how the man was looking at him. People had always done that to David and Adam when growing up. Just because they had similar quirks and the same face didn’t mean people automatically knew both of them. “How do you even know my brother?”

“We were tested,” the man replied. “What was your test?”

“Tested…where’s Adam! Where the f*ck is he?!”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you might, but it would seem you’ve been neglecting your family.”

“You don’t know me,” hissed David. His eyes quickly moved over the man’s clothing. It was the only thing that might give him a clue as to who this guy was. It was all nice. Really nice. Something owned by an upper middle class-or even somewhat wealthy-guy. Like a doctor–

Hold on a second…

It wasn’t…

“You were that f*cking prick!”

The man raised an eyebrow. The woman sat on top of a table. She started to fiddle with some type of sharp, curved instrument. David tried not to think about it. Instead, he focused on the slowly returning memories and the awful realization that he knew the person with the cane. “You’re the doctor! The prick that walked around like you owned the place! Goran or something!”

“Dr. Gordon–”

“Was it you?!”

The doctor co*cked his head to the side.

“Holy sh*t! It was! You put me there! You knocked me out! You dragged me to that f-f*cking place and made me–”

“You were knocked out at the hospital?”

The calm, genuinely curious question threw David off. He stuttered to a stop. “Y-You-I-a-after. It was after work. I’d just gotten off. W-Was headed to the…the elevator…”

“I’m afraid it had to be someone else.” The doctor looked to the woman. “A little over a year and a half ago now. That would have been too early for you.”

She nodded, though her eyes were solely focused on David again. Her hand gripped the blade of the curved instrument. Drops of blood started to hit the ground.

“Possibly too early for Detective Hoffman too. Of course, John would have been an able bodied individual at that time. He might have had an easier time taking someone young like–”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” hissed the woman. She sounded choked up again. “He’s not dead.”

“No. You’re right. Of course,” the doctor solemnly said. His gaze returned to David. “You still haven’t explained why you were tested.”

“T-Then it wasn’t you?” asked David. It sounded almost like a whimper as the exhaustion hit him again. He wanted out of this chair. Out of this room. He wanted his brother…

“No. It was not. Now. Why were you tested?”

The tears started to come. “I-I don’t-I couldn’t even scream,” David whimpered. “He just-my head w-was going to be ripped open and I-I don’t know why he chose me b-but after I killed-I didn’t know he was alive! I swear to god I-I didn’t but it-it was the only way to g-get the key a-and–”

The woman launched herself across the room. “You’re lying!”

A low moan left David’s lips. The hand the woman had cut into pressed into and choked out his throat. He could feel her blood dripping down his neck as her nails dug into his skin.

“Amanda…” There was a hint of a warning to the doctor’s voice, but she didn’t let go.

“You’re lying! That wasn’t your game!” she yelled. “Give us the f*cking truth!”

“I am–”

She let go only for her fist to come right back. David gasped out in pain. His chin throbbed.

“Amanda!” The doctor straightened up. He stepped forward. “I gave him my word I wouldn’t harm him.”

“You’re not. I am.” Another strike. “Now give me the f*cking truth!”

“I–”

“Liar!”

“I’m not a liar–!”

The next hit caused his bottom lip to cut into his teeth. He coughed. Red spattered down his front and against the woman’s-Amanda’s-shirt. She hit him again before he could react. David tried to breathe in only to taste blood and iron. She reared back once more. She picked up the same tool she’d cut her hand with. The doctor’s arm shot out. He pulled her back. “Enough!”

She wrenched her arm from him but before she could cut David open, he let out anything and everything he could think of saying.

“There was a video I woke up and there was a video and a puppet a-and he said I had to get a key from the s-stomach of my dead cellmate but he w-wasn’t dead and h-he started m-moving but there wasn’t time and my head was g-gonna be ripped open a-and I didn’t want to I d-didn’t want to he made me d-do it he made me kill a-and I-I barely got it off and he s-said I was grateful o-or I should be grateful to b-be alive but what the f*ck was I supposed to be g-grateful for and I don’t k-know why me it was j-just a game j-just a f*cking game to him!”

David started to sob only for him to swallow his own blood. His stomach turned. Bile came up and spilled over his front as he coughed and choked. Stomach acid burned the fresh cuts inside his mouth. Tears poured down David’s face–

“P-Please…” The whimper just barely escaped David’s lips as he felt Amanda’s hands on him again. Only this time they weren’t striking. Her knee was pressed painfully into one of his thighs as she moved into his lap. Her hand cupped his cheek. Her fingers just barely touched the old scar there. The shock of how gentle those hands could be felt like stinging ice.

Amanda wasn’t looking at him. Not really. She was looking at the scars. And in the scars, it was like she was looking at a long lost friend.

Or perhaps a jilted lover.

Her face started to break down. She gripped his ear painfully. “Why was it me?”

“I-I don’t know–”

“Why not you!? Why’d he f*cking choose me!?”

David didn’t know what she was asking. He started to cry harder. He tried his best to say, “I don’t know,” again and again. He didn’t know. He didn’t understand as the woman who’d just beat him began to cry too. Her tears fell onto his face and mixed with his own.

“Why did it have to be me!? Why did he choose me?! Why couldn’t he have f*cking chosen you?! Why was it my life?! Why did he take mine?! Why couldn’t he have f*cking taken yours!?”

David’s shoulders shook as Amanda’s head fell forward. She pressed her face to his chest as she continued to cry. He didn’t understand. He just didn’t. Another hand came forward. David glanced up. The doctor touched Amanda’s shoulder. David could feel her jerk. She half heartedly shoved the hand away, but the doctor continued to hold her shoulder. David’s blurry vision looked to the doctor’s face, still as calm as ever.

Who was in control here? The doctor? Amanda? Neither of them? Had Jigsaw asked them to do this to him? David didn’t have a clue. He just wanted out. He just wanted out and away from these psychos and to know what the hell had happened to his brother.

Adam crossed his arms. “Aren’t final exams supposed to be coming up? What the hell are you doing here again?” Another thought crossed his mind before William could explain. “You’re following Zeke again. Aren’t you? I thought that was my job.”

“Jealous?”

“No. I’m not f*cking obsessed like you.”

William grinned. “Well, don’t worry. I wasn’t following him.”

Adam scoffed. “Like I’d believe that. You met him once-or sorry.” Sarcasm dripped from Adam’s voice. “You met him a second time. Either way, you’re not going to be able to hold yourself back.”

Rather than responding, William finally stopped leaning against his car. They were outside Adam’s apartment. Supposedly, William had left after they’d had breakfast together. Only as the day flew by and the night had come in, Adam had suddenly gotten a call that William was headed back his way. William opened up the backseat. “I have two surprises for you. Here’s the first.”

Adam’s eyes went wide. “I thought you were joking about the cat!”

“Why would I ever joke about something like that?”

“Should I expect the second surprise to be you invited Zeke Banks over?” Adam sarcastically asked.

“Why rush things? Come on. Let’s get this one out of here. I bought cat food and everything. It’s in the back.”

William walked on ahead. Adam groaned. However, only a few seconds passed before he leaned into the car and grabbed everything. He bumped the door shut with his hip before quickly following William back inside.

“Where’d you even get it?” Adam asked once he’d caught up.

“A shelter for homeless pets. Apparently someone threw this one into a dumpster,” William replied.

“So I’d be a monster if I asked you to return it.”

“Yep!” William let himself in as Adam rolled his eyes hard.

He dumped all the extra sh*t to the side as William set the carrier down.

“Besides, it’ll be good for you. You’ll always have someone to come home to.”

Adam raised an eyebrow at that. He bent down and finally looked inside. It was less a cat and more a kitten. A black back and a white underbelly and paws. The yellow eyes blinked owlishly at him as the tiny, pink nose sniffed at the new environment. Despite how he should be irritated with William, Adam found his lips twitching into a smile. “We used to have a family cat. When I was really little.”

“Yeah?”

“We had to give him away when we moved. Just never had an opportunity to get another one. Or a different kind of pet,” Adam mused. He stuck his finger in one of the holes. The kitten flinched away before cautiously moving closer to sniff. Adam couldn’t fight back the smile now. Even if he didn’t want the cat, he doubted William would take no for an answer. And he didn’t exactly not want the cat either. He decided to give the kitten some space and stood up. “The second surprise?”

“I need you to follow someone new.”

Adam gave William a curious look. He walked over as William pulled out several folded sheets. One was a printed off web page with the image of an officer.

“Fitch,” Adam murmured. “What’d he do?”

That incredibly hard, focused look came to William’s face. His eyes always seemed darker, perfectly black when he was like this. Brow furrowed. Not even blinking. “It’s what he didn’t do. He didn’t respond when backup was needed.”

The pieces clicked into place. “He’s the reason Zeke was shot.”

William nodded. “There’s more there. I’d bet anything on it.”

“And you want me to find it. Follow him. Get to know his patterns. Right?”

Another nod. “I managed to get some information about him.” Written down details were unfurled and placed on the counter. “Something to help you start. He’s still at the same precinct as Zeke though, so that should make things easier.”

Adam didn’t respond. He picked up the photo. A quick glance showed a time stamp. The photo was old by a few years. Probably taken when he was sworn in as a detective. Adam looked over the nose and eyes. The stoic face of a man that didn’t know the devil had picked him first.

Fingers ghosted against Adam’s forearm. He jolted at the contact. The harsh lines were gone from William’s face again. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I said I would.”

“It’s not like we made a pact in blood,” William easily laughed. “I’m serious. I’ll do it. You can stay out of it. Just focus on Zeke. Nothing else.”

Adam was silent for a moment. His gaze returned to the image. He was tired of feeling powerless. He knew that now better than before after what had happened last night. He was tired of dealing with demons when others far less deserving were walking around fine and happy. A small part of himself was even angry about what had happened to Zeke because of Fitch. Adam knew Zeke even less than William. He’d only followed him. Had never interacted with him. There wasn’t a shared history between them. Not like William’s.

But there was something between Adam and William. William had come back for him. William had helped him. Was Adam just trying to pay him back? Was it more? Taking on some of William’s goals as his own when he had so little? Anything to make himself feel less like a shell of a man? It was hard to say. All he knew was that his voice didn’t waver when he said, “I’ll do it.”

“Ok?”

“Ok.”

William smiled. He patted Adam’s shoulder. “Then I’ll let you get back to work and I’ll get back to mine. I’ll call you when I get home.”

Adam was already reading all the details William had written down. He didn’t bother to look up as William let himself out. “Have a safe trip.” The door closed. Adam went over everything twice before a tiny meow reminded him he was no longer alone in the apartment. He walked over and stuck his finger in the carrier again. This time, the tiny kitten nuzzled it.

“Give me a sec to set everything up. ‘k?”

Thankfully, William had bought all the necessities. Adam quickly put litter in the plastic box. He poured food into a bowl. Probably too much, but it was fine. There was only one bowl though so he quickly grabbed one of his own to put water into it. Then, he carried the carrier towards everything. He slowly opened the door. Step by step, the black and white cat moved forward. Adam risked a tiny little pet before the kitten darted towards the food. When the kitten looked up again, he carefully put out his hand near it. Short, soft fur rubbed against his palm.

“I guess I have to name you now. Huh?”

A very tiny meow escaped the little body. Adam picked up the tail. He honestly couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl though. He’d need to take it to a vet to get it fixed anyways. He’d figure it out sooner or later. Regardless of gender though, one name immediately came to mind.

“See? We’re together again Larry. Just you and me.” He watched the kitten pad over to the litter box. “Still stuck in the bathroom together.” Adam laughed at his own joke. When the kitten finished his business, Adam wiggled his fingers together. “Here, Larry. Here.” The kitten hesitantly padded back over. “Good boy. Or girl. I’ll take you to the vet soon. Promise, Larry.”

Adam continued to sit on the floor petting the little cat as he thought up when to best start following Fitch.

Chapter 10: The Lost Human Connection

Chapter Text

When Lawrence arrived home, Alison was waiting for him.

“The hospital called.”

Lawrence made a small noise of acknowledgement.

“They said they couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“Things took longer than expected,” sighed Lawrence. “I’ll make sure to call them in a moment. Right now I just need a shower and a change of clothes.” He didn’t bother putting his coat on the rack. It needed to be washed anyways. He limped by her–

“Are you going into work?”

“No. I’m afraid I need to take a bit more time off. I thought…” I thought you might be worried about me. “I figured you wouldn’t want to push off our discussion on living arrangements any further.”

Her shoulders slowly rose and fell. She looked like she might ask questions again. An argument might crop up. She didn’t look angry though. More sad than anything. She didn’t fight it and took the potential olive branch. “Diana is at a friend’s house tonight. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

They parted ways. Lawrence walked past the walls of a broken family. Down the hall. The bedroom. Once in the bathroom, he moved the shower chair inside before turning on the water. He took off his clothes. Then, the prosthetic. The counter was used as support before he moved inside and eased himself down. Physical pain mixed with ghost pains traveled up his limb. He shouldn’t have been on his feet-or foot, he supposed-for so long. There just hadn’t really been a moment to breathe…

Semi-warm droplets of water soaked into his hair and slid down his skin. He could hear David’s terrified cries echoing in his head.

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know!

Why was Lawrence still here? Sometimes, he didn’t know either.

He wished he could say he’d come home because he missed his family. Because he needed to hold them and see them. But that wasn’t even true. Talking to Alison was an excuse. Coming here was an excuse. A way to prolong the coming interaction and request. John had called him. He needed him. Lawrence had to answer the call. That was the only reason he’d momentarily left David.

What would it be this time? To sew a man’s eyes shut? To implant a key? Nestle it underneath the liver of an alcoholic?

In the end, it was less a shower and more a rinse off. He simply sat there under the constant torrent of water. When he got out, he didn’t put the prosthetic back on. He needed to let the amputation breath. Especially as he’d be on his feet again for who knew how long. Rather than the cane, he grabbed the crutch from the bedroom. He moved himself to the kitchen. Alison must have made coffee while he was in there. She sat at the kitchen table with an empty cup in front of her. Across the table was a full, luke-warm mug. She halfway got up but Lawrence shook his head.

“I’ve got it.”

He forced the chair far enough back to sit down. Alison eased herself back into her seat. “You can accept help, Larry. It doesn’t make you weak if you accept help.”

Help… He had accepted help. He’d asked for help. Help that had beat David senseless only to break down in front of him. And how could Lawrence blame Amanda? David’s game had sounded exactly like hers. To Lawrence’s knowledge, each trap was unique. Each contraption made new every time. Why had John made a near identical one? Why had he left David alone but had chosen Amanda as his successor? Lawrence wanted to see meaning in it. He wanted it all to make sense. But he was afraid that all there was to see was what Amanda already saw. Cruel pointlessness and chance. The luck of the draw. Or the unluck of the draw–

“I think we should sell the apartment.”

Alison’s words brought Lawrence out of his mind. He glanced up. “I think so as well.”

“Ok. Good. It’s not doing Diana any good sleeping here. It’s not…it’s not doing me any good sleeping here. Not when I’m alone half the time.”

Lawrence closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No. I’m done with the apologies. If you wanted, you could have chosen to sleep in the same bed. Instead of taking all the night shifts and disappearing at odd hours and never telling me where you’re going. I’m done with apologies and dragging this out. So let’s just talk finances and what will make all this easiest on Diana. Ok?”

Lawrence didn’t argue. It would have been wrong of him if he did. After everything Alison had gone through, she had every right to want this to be over as soon as possible. So they talked and talked. Lawrence offered to help them find a place and Alison accepted. Lawrence agreed he’d move into a hotel the following night. Not everything could be decided on in a night. Not everything could be solved in two nights even. But a lot was finally set in stone by the time Lawrence had to excuse himself and see John.

Once the prosthetic was securely back on, he left the apartment and got back into the car. He called the hospital on the way over. Gave them a solid date when he would be back in. He’d need to discuss his schedule with Amanda and when she’d need to check in on David. She wouldn’t like it, but she wouldn’t have much of a choice if she still wanted his help.

When Lawrence met with John, the man didn’t need his steady hands for once. Instead, he had a request. A profile with no name. Preferably someone from Lawrence’s work, but anyone easily accessible would do. It was scary how quickly Lawrence looked at the necessary details and was able to categorize those around him like pawns in a game.

Not qualified enough. Not desperate enough. Not broken enough. No family. Too much family. Too many people who’d noticed.

His mind eventually came to Lynn Denlon. If he wasn’t wrong, she’d even overseen John’s file at one point.

She’d lost her son recently. She was hurting. Dissociating. She needed help.

Yet here Lawrence was, already christening her for a game.

Why? What was the point? Did he even hope she was helped? Why? John hadn’t helped Lawrence. He’d just made him worse–

John began to cough. Deeper and more broken than the last time Lawrence had seen him. The noise brought Lawrence out of his head though only for a moment. He automatically moved to put John’s water closer to his hand. The man’s hand shook as he held it. From Lawrence’s understanding, John wasn’t even making the traps anymore. He couldn’t beyond a few simple sketches.

Even if Dr. Denlon was successful in her game and the goal John would present her with, she’d only extend John’s life by a fraction. Not save him. He was already a dead man walking. So weak. So fragile. Even Lawrence could kill him. If he really wanted to. As John coughed and a mixture of flem and blood spattered into his hand, Lawrence saw the possible future as so very, very easy. The man was barely able to stand up from the wheelchair. Not on his own. He wouldn’t even be able to fight back. All Lawrence would have to do would be to wrap his hands around John’s neck and–

A frail hand gripped Lawrence. “Never forget, you are my most prized asset. When all this is decided, no matter who thinks themselves the last man standing, you will make sure my legacy is preserved.”

Lawrence wanted to ask. He wanted to say, “Is that why you saved me? Even though I didn’t kill Adam? Even though I failed? Did you break your own rules because you needed a surgeon’s hands?” Lawrence didn’t ask that though. He simply covered John’s hand with his own. “I know the perfect person. I’ll get you a reference to go off of.”

“I knew you would.”

Lawrence stayed a little longer. Simply to make sure John was comfortable and he had what he needed before leaving. He went to a gas station afterwards. He bought an assortment of food. Then, it was straight back to the other property owned by John. One which Hoffman didn’t know of and which John didn’t have active plans for.

Lawrence took the bag of gas station food in with him. Once through the door, he wasn’t shocked by the gun that got pulled on him. “It’s just me,” he calmly stated.

Amanda let out an angry huff. “I f*cking know that.”

“Where’s David?”

“Having a personal tour-f*cking tied up! Obviously! Don’t ask stupid f*cking questions.” She spun around on her heels, shoving the gun back behind her shirt. She stomped forward. Lawrence followed at a slower pace. He moved some plastic sheets away. David was no longer in the chair. He was on the floor now. Arm chained to a sturdy, steel pipe. He was clearly exhausted. His work clothes were drenched in sweat and his hair was stuck to his forehead. His face had swollen up from where Amanda had struck him. He looked like he’d almost passed out only to jerk awake as they both entered.

Lawrence studied him for a second. David shivered under the gaze. Eyes rapidly blinking between Lawrence and Amanda.

Lawrence continued to stare at David even as he spoke to Amanda. “John is preparing for a new game.”

“I know–”

“Yours.”

That silenced her. Lawrence glanced over. It was difficult to say if she was going to explode again or cry. It was always so hard to tell with Amanda. Her fingers curled into fists. Her shoulders shook. She breathed in deeply through her nose–

“B-But you were tested.”

It was David who spoke. Both pairs of eyes quickly turned to him. He flinched back.

“What did you say?” growled Amanda.

“Y-You were tested. Why-why would he need to test you again?”

“Why would he. Wouldn’t you like to know? Wouldn’t we all like to know?” Her voice was soft before she let out a scream. Her arm went wide. Metal tools and parts clattered to the ground. She stomped off. Lawrence decided to leave her be for now. He heard more things falling. It was difficult to say if she’d just have a temper tantrum and then come back, or if she’d completely leave for some time. Maybe she’d even go back to John. Lawrence didn’t mind either way. She’d have to come back if she wanted his help. He dropped the bag in front of David.

Lawrence dragged a chair over. The same chair David had been tied to only a few hours ago. “That’s rather smart of you. Do you think that will be how you survive this?”

David made a face like what a person who’d never seen an innocent face thought innocent looked like. He didn’t sell it well. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re as bad a liar as Adam. Do you think simply because you experienced the same torment you can make friends with Amanda? That she’ll let you live?”

Lawrence watched David’s throat bob. For a moment, he looked like a child being caught red-handed. Then, his face hardened. He glanced away. When he looked back, his face was like stone. “Who should I be befriending then? You? How do you think I should do that? Pretend to be Adam?” He changed his voice. It was subtle. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed it. Lawrence did though. He could feel the difference in the base of his spine. “Want me to be your Adam? Call you Lawrence like we’re friends? Lawrence! Help! Help me Lawrence!” David rattled the pipe. He kicked the bag of food away. His voice returned to normal. “f*ck you.”

Lawrence looked to the spilt bag. Most everything was in packages so it didn’t really matter. “Eat.”

“It’s probably poisoned anyways.”

A tired, irritated sigh left Lawrence’s lips. “If I wanted to poison you, I wouldn’t go to the waste of buying packaged food, opening them, infusing them with just the right concoction that would both actually kill you and not be detected, and then carefully put the packaging back together. I would simply stick you. With a needle. Again. Eat. Don’t eat. Fine. But there are much simpler ways to poison you.” Lawrence glanced to the nearest instrument. His fingers ghosted over the metal. “There are much easier ways to kill you. Eat.”

David’s defiance disappeared. He shivered before hesitantly dragging the bag back towards himself with the heel of his shoe. He yanked at his chain again before switching to the other hand. He went through the items but didn’t actually open any. His gaze moved back to Lawrence. “Is all you want from me a way to find Adam?”

“In a way.”

“Why?”

“Because he left me. I tried to give him peace and he left me.” The words didn’t really make logical sense, but it was the closest thing to an honest answer that Lawrence could verbalize. He felt stuck. Still chained. And somehow Adam had slipped from the chain and walked away.

He realized in that moment he was lonely. As awful as every waking second in the bathroom had been, he at least hadn’t felt lonely.

“I’m not going to harm you, David. And I’ll make sure Amanda doesn’t lay a hand on you again. Now. Please. Eat. I don’t want to have to force you.”

Slowly, David reached out. Finally, from his awkward position he unwrapped a package.

William’s eyes widened as he walked into the large warehouse. Eleanor had contacted him a few days after he left Adam. He’d expected to have one of their usual hangouts only for her to send him an address. Now, he found himself finally coming face to face with Eleanor’s secret project. He’d had a few ideas of what she could be up to, but nothing like this.

“Impressed? It’s still a work in progress, but I’m quite proud of what I’ve got if I’m being honest.”

William walked towards the nearest one. He was pretty sure it was meant to be the trap described by Amanda Young and found at the crime scene of the first known survivor. The metal twisted in sharp, unfamiliar shapes. William leaned over the head of the piece. His fingers moved over the hooked metal without actually touching it.

“And this is the part that hooks into the jaw?” William asked.

“Yep.”

“Don’t tell me you have an ‘in’ with the people in charge of evidence lock up too,” whispered William.

“No. It’s a replica. Not the real thing. I’ve still got to work on the mechanism so it actually snaps when the attached timer goes to zero.”

“You made it from the ground up?”

“Completely by myself.”

“That just makes it more impressive. What did you use as a reference?”

“Leaked crime scene photos.”

William gave her an incredulous look. “Just that?”

“Just that.” She moved across the warehouse. A bottle of wine was pulled from a set of cupboards. She made a motion. He shrugged in indifference. She poured two glasses before taking one and sitting on a red couch near one of the walls.

William took his time walking over. He picked up the other wine glass. His eyes traveled over the largest structure. It was unfinished. “I don’t think I remember seeing a picture of that one,” he mused as he took a sip.

“People say it’s from a trap before all the other ones. Maybe even the first one.”

“An interesting idea. Do you believe any of it?”

“Hard to say. I’m hoping someone will eventually come forward with more detailed blueprints so I can finish it.” She scooted over on the couch. He took the hint and sat beside her. “Now, it’s your turn. I let you in on my secret. What’s yours? Why become a cop?”

William thought about it for a second before he finally said, “Easier to kill cops when you’ve got firsthand access to their systems.”

Eleanor snorted. “Good one. I’m serious. Why?”

A part of William had almost hoped she believed him. He shouldn’t be surprised though. Besides, it was easier this way. Still, she was trusting him a lot with this. It was only right he gave her the same courtesy. With a tired sigh, he tried to keep his voice as steady as possible. Even now, he could hear the slight waver. People always said that with time, it would get easier. Any time William brought it up, it never felt any easier. “A police officer killed my father.”

Eleanor slowly lowered her wine glass. Her usual smirk dropped. “Jesus.”

William swallowed. He quickly moved past that fact. “His partner came in a second later. Too late to save my…my father. But soon enough to save me. I saw the whole thing. He told me to stay quiet. Kept me hidden until he could get help.”

“And you wanted to become a cop? After all that?”

“I want to change things.”

“Easier said than done.”

“It is.” William shook off the melancholy and managed a genuine smile. “But I have friends though. People I can actually trust.”

“One good cop I might believe. Don’t tell me you’ve got a small, little unit that’s fighting the good fight.”

He laughed. “Not even close. And I only have one other friend who’s a cop. As far as the rest are concerned, they’re f*cking pigs.”

“Amen to that.”

He watched her take a drink. She’d thought his first attempt at honesty was a joke. He shouldn’t push it. And yet… “If Jigsaw or like…a Jigsaw copycat started killing cops, what would you do?”

Eleanor mulled it over in her head for a moment. “Well, if the bodies dropped on my table, I think I’d have a field day. That is one thing I’m curious about. We’ve never quite had a serial killer like John Kramer before. It’s hard to say what his work might spawn.”

“But if cops started dying…”

She shrugged. “If it was my job, I’d gather the evidence as I’d be required to, but there wouldn’t be much love lost. I’ll be honest.”

“I agree with that,” William replied. He looked around the warehouse again. There was a lot of space left. Undoubtedly there were still traps to be uncovered. And at least for now, John Kramer was still alive and the games were continuing. But… “Have you ever thought of making your own? Not replicas but your own traps?”

“Not really. You need a goal to have. A logical plan as to why something works in the way it does. A clear give and take that the person must overcome. Otherwise you’re just building a pointless torture contraption and that’s less fun.”

“I suppose that’s fair…”

“Why? Do you have ideas?”

“A few.”

“Want me to help you realize them?”

“I thought you just said without a clear purpose, a trap is just torture?”

“Sure, but you just admitted to having demons. If Jigsaw were to go after the guy who killed your father, what kind of trap would you think he deserved.”

William shivered at the thought, though the feeling wasn’t entirely bad. “This your weird idea of home therapy?”

“More like me finally having an opportunity to share my hobby with someone else. Do you really have ideas?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s sketch a few out.” She quickly stood and headed towards a drawing table. William followed.

The pair spent the rest of the evening leaning over the table, drinking wine and making jokes about horrifying situations. Eleanor was simply enjoying herself as was William. But he was also taking mental notes of every useful piece of information or interesting suggestion Eleanor made.

Chapter 11: Not So Fast

Chapter Text

Adam continued to call every few days. In order to keep up appearances and so on his end, there wasn’t a change, Lawrence forced David to give him his voicemail password. He could have deleted each message. Just to keep it from filling up. Instead, Lawrence had them listen to it every time he was the one watching over David. At one point, Amanda had walked in during a message. She’d quickly left with tears in her eyes. Guilt rising up at the sound of her victim’s voice.

Lawrence tried to claim it was a mercy. That he was being kind to David. Giving him some type of reprieve. If he was being honest with himself though, it wasn’t kind. The entire act was cruel and selfish, allowing Lawrence to hear Adam’s voice whenever he wished.

“Hey, I don’t know if you’re listening to every one of these or like, deleting some. Hell, maybe you’re deleting all of them. Even this one. Maybe you have from the beginning and you’re trying to decide if you want to get a new number so I can’t call anymore. Just if I left you a message that sounded a little messed up or confused, ignore it. Ok? I’ve got my head on straight. Seriously. I’m good. I’m solid. I’m better than good. You…you probably don’t even care, but I hope you’re doing well too.”

David cried, sobbed as Lawrence deleted that message too. Then, he was getting up and pricking David in the neck. Just like he did after most of the messages now. David didn’t even flinch this time. Just a few days and he was barely noticing the pain anymore. It wasn’t to put him to sleep, but something else. A way to kill the current problem before Lawrence could fully focus on Adam.

Adam wasn’t quite sure how William managed to get assigned to Zeke’s precinct. He had to have gone into the system and messed with some of the records. Or maybe when you were as good of a student as William was, it didn’t matter. You just got to pick where you wanted to go. He wasn’t done. Wasn’t Zeke’s partner yet. He was just a standard officer for now. A beat cop, street cop, whatever you wanted to call it. It was funny. Most probably saw a young, idealistic rookie about to have his beliefs crushed.

Really, they’d just accepted the fox into the hen house, and the hens were laughing at how stupid the fox was.

With William now in the same city as Adam, they decided soon after when they were going to perform their first test. The trap was designed by William, but the idea had come from Adam. When William had divulged that Fitch had shot a guy, really just because he could, and had gotten away with it despite video evidence, Adam said, “He can’t pull the trigger anymore if he doesn’t have fingers.”]

William had practically beamed at the idea.

In the day leading up to the moment, Adam was nervous. A bit anxious. He’d been following Fitch around for over a week. The guy was definitely scum and now…now…

Adam had already killed before. He’d killed Zep. Had f*cking beat him to death with his own hands. Sometimes, he still dreamed of that moment. Shot in the shoulder but the pain momentarily forgotten. Down and down and down he’d gone. Thinking it was over. Thinking he’d ended it. If only he’d then turned to the corpse on the floor and bashed his brains in too.

This time would be different though. This time, Adam wasn’t even going to touch the man. Not directly.

He had William sitting on his couch. Working the exact words he’d say. The test he was giving the man. They went back and forth on the wording. Went back and forth on the voice recording. The inspiration was clear, but William wanted it to be something just a little different. It would be clear it wasn’t Jigsaw but someone else. A new goal in mind. A new purpose. Not so scattered but focused and true.

There was a lot of thought into each step that Adam never would have thought about. Always using gloves. Disposable technology. Making sure all copies of tapes were destroyed. Buying tools and metal workings in small, inconspicuous amounts. Purposefully choosing places with large foot traffic so you could be easily lost in the crowd. Avoiding security cameras. Some of it was new, but the latter stuff Adam at least knew how to do. He knew how to become invisible all too well.

As the last aspects of the plan and trap were put into place, Adam went home and burned all the photos and information he’d taken on Fitch in the kitchen sink. He made sure there was nothing but soot before washing it down the drain. Larry meowed, reminding Adam it was the cat’s dinner time. He’d taken her to the vet eventually. She was a girl, but Adam had continued to stick with the name Larry. Sometimes, he even talked to the cat like Lawrence was there with him.

“What have you been doing? Huh? Have you strung someone up on Kramer’s behalf?” The black and white cat meowed. Larry stuck close to his legs as he walked over to the cabinet he kept the cat food in. As he pulled it down, he continued talking. “I feel sorry for you. You know that? You’re just doing what that psycho tells you. Does it make you feel good? Being wanted? Or do you secretly despise him for choosing you?”

Larry put her front paws on Adam’s leg. She dug into the pants with her claws. He could just barely feel the sharp, little points as she stretched. Adam gently shook her off so he could walk to the food bowl. Her head was already in the bowl as the hard pellets fell. A few even fell on her head. Adam softly laughed at her over eagerness. For once, he just addressed the cat rather than using her as a conduit for his inner thoughts. “It’s only ten minutes after your normal feeding time. I’m not starving you.”

The small cat ignored him, face continuing to chow down.

Adam stayed bent over on the ground. He scratched right by her tail. She arched her back but didn’t let the scratches distract her from the food.

“At least I’m doing something for myself. I chose this,” murmured Adam, once again using the cat to speak to an invisible Lawrence. “Sure, it’s William’s goal, but I chose to help him. You know? For just once in my f*cking life I’m not sitting on the sidelines. I’m not watching. I’m acting. It’s my choice. And man, Lawrence. I’ve followed some f*cking scumbags around, but this guy? He’s low. He’ really f*cking low. Why doesn’t Jigsaw go after people like this? Huh? I’m not talking about roughing up a witness. This guy’s murdered people and gotten away with it. The system’s let him get away with it. What are you doing? Huh? How are you helping anybody? I’m helping someone. I’m helping whatever sorry f*cker would have crossed Fitch’s path if not for me and William. Who might have gotten hurt or killed because of him. Even if he survives and makes the necessary sacrifices, he’s never going to pull a trigger again.”

Larry stopped. She looked up with those yellow eyes that were almost too big for her body.

“Sorry. I’ll stop bothering you and let you eat.” Adam gave her one last pet before he stood up. He glanced at the clock. There were still a few hours left before he needed to get there. William had created a detailed list of instructions for Adam to follow. Every contingency had been thought of. When the time was right, Adam would meet up with William who by then should have Fitch in his custody.

The closer the clock ticked, the more Adam found he couldn’t sit still. He went from sitting on the side of the couch to lying over its back. He paced. He picked up little Larry against her will, scratching behind her ear until she bit him, signaling she wanted to be let down. He lay flat on the floor. His eyes counted the bumps in the uneven ceiling. His eyes moved back to the clock in the apartment.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The second hand made a full rotation.

It was time. Adam jumped to his feet. He quickly put on his shoes and left. There was a specific route Adam was meant to take. Some of it he used the public bus. A lot of it was on foot. Head down. Always in the background of a group. Invisible to many. There wasn’t anything noticeable about him. Just another random smuck trudging through the night on his way home.

Only he wasn’t going home.

He passed down an empty alleyway. He went behind a dumpster and dragged out a duffle bag that had been placed this morning by William. He moved through the alleyway. Went out the other side. He kept walking. Moved into the dilapidated building. The homeless sometimes used it. Especially the ones hooked on drugs because of the neighborhood and how close it was to the dealers. However, an anonymous call had very helpfully emptied out the place this morning. They wouldn’t be interrupted tonight.

Adam made sure to cover his shoes and hands. He walked up to the second floor. He dropped the bag on the ground. He quickly got to work. He didn’t see William, but if things were going as planned, he was somewhere nearby–

“Come on man! Where are you! You said you needed to talk!”

Adam checked his watch. A minute early. Though he supposed the message from his informant had been urgent enough to make Fitch hurry. Of course, the informant hadn’t contacted Fitch at all, not that he knew it. Adam was pretty much in place. Hopefully William–

A sound of a struggle could be heard. A louder clatter. Like a gun hitting the ground. Adam stopped breathing. His hands froze on the tools. Why was he doing this? Why was he here? He was so f*cked. This was all going to fall apart–

Adam jumped when he saw the mask. He’d known William planned to create one, but it was still a shock finally seeing it in person. It was a face Adam had seen in nightmares. One that he’d feared would reappear one day to drag Adam back to the bathroom. He hated it. Despised it. It was because of it that he was here at all. That he’d chosen, or more accurately fallen into this life.

But the mask no longer hid an unknown enemy. It was a friend. A companion. Someone Adam could trust. With a worthy goal.

Fitch’s body was dropped without a care once they’d moved up the stairs. The mask was pulled off. William wiped at his sweaty face. A satisfied smile played across his lips. “I told you this would work. Now, let’s hurry.”

Adam nodded. He forced himself to breathe more easily. “I’ve got this part in place. What next?”

“Perfect. We’ll fill it with water in a second. Help me place him first.”

The trap was an amalgamation of parts from the building itself, a few bought, and many more taken from pawn shops and scrap heaps. No one origin with the most standard, easily findable parts chosen so it couldn’t be easily tracked to one store or location. Fitch was moved into the bottom of the large, empty basen. His fingers were pushed into each mesh. The device placed around his head and in his mouth.

Adam was doing this. He was actually doing this.

It wasn’t him. He wasn’t the one in the trap. This was a person who deserved it. Adam wasn’t weak. He wasn’t a voyeur. He was an actor. A participant. He was experiencing life. He’d seen evil and was doing something about it. Adam wasn’t the victim. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be the victim. Not anymore.

“It’s set,” murmured William. They both stepped back. Looked at their handy work. He glanced at Adam. “You’ve done more than enough. You don’t have to stay for this part.”

“No. I helped create it. I need to see what happens. I need…” He needed to see the truth laid out in front of his eyes. Could this scumbag do what was necessary?

“Ok. Let’s move before he wakes up.”

They moved to a space in the large, open set that was higher up and out of Fitch’s line of sight. William waited as the man began to stir before turning on the lights.

“Detective Fitch–”

The man couldn’t scream. Not properly. Not with the contraption in his mouth. Something inside Adam twisted. This was f*cked up. This was more than f*cked up as he watched the man struggle in the shallow water. He pulled at the device but the parts held steady. The game continued. The rules were set. Ultimately, Fitch chose to press down. He tried. Crying out. His fingers outstretched. The water continued to rise and rise, getting closer to the live wire–

Adam quickly looked away at the last second. He felt himself throw up in his mouth. He almost gagged. Could feel the bile burning the back of his throat. He forced himself to swallow. It wouldn’t do to leave evidence behind after all their hard work.

There was a sizzling and popping sound of burning flesh. One last muted cry. When Adam looked back, William’s eyes were only on his. His gaze was guarded. Once more, William stated, “You don’t have to do this.”

Adam ran his tongue over his teeth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His voice shook slightly. “He deserved it.”

“Do you believe that?”

“He deserved it more than me.” And that, Adam could say with solid certainty. That, Adam did believe. Fitch deserved it. Adam hadn’t. Now, Adam was doing something with his life. He’d done something grand. Something meaningful. If all went as planned, no one would actually know he was involved, but that was ok. It was his work. His and William’s work. And they were finally making order out of the madness.

“He did,” William agreed. “Let’s hurry and get out of here.”

The items they didn’t plan to leave behind were stuffed in the duffle bag again. William pulled out a knife. Some, but not all of the fingers had broken away. Adam covered his nose from the stench of burnt flesh as they stood closer to the contraption. His free hand shot out when William almost grabbed the exposed bone of a thumb. “What are you doing?”

“A gift.”

He didn’t have to say for who or why. Adam just knew. Who else would William gift something so horrendous too? “Hey. Hey!” The angry, shouted whisper was accompanied with a hard hit to William’s shoulder.

“Ow.” The offended look was comical. Particularly considering what they were standing by. “What was that for?”

“What was that for? Because you’re thinking about mailing fingers to the police department! Which you currently work at!”

“I need Zeke to-ow!”

Adam thumped William on the nose like he would little Larry if she was scratching something she wasn’t supposed to. It was a bit ridiculous to do it to a serial killer-because that was what William was. What he planned to be should more games continue. Right? Though with Adam being involved, did that mean he was also a–

Instead of thinking about it, he focused on the shocked look on the younger man’s face. “If you ever want Zeke to be your partner, to really be your partner, you can’t just start throwing sh*t in his face. You’re being too needy.”

William raised an eyebrow. “You make me sound like an overbearing boyfriend.”

“You are! You are so desperate to have Zeke join you that you’re not thinking about what he’ll see when he comes in here.”

“He’ll see a bad man punished.”

“He’ll also see someone breaking the law! I didn’t just agree to you out of the blue, William. You didn’t decide this was what you wanted to do with your life because you saw one violent comic book! Your father died! Was killed in front of you! I was f*cking tortured and left to die! And now, now no matter how f*cked up it is, I feel like I have control. I have control of my life. I feel like I don’t have a reason to be scared. But that feeling? This? What we just did? Zeke’s not going to accept it within a night or two. You have to have to work with him. You know him, fine. But he doesn’t know you. He doesn’t. He’s only just now getting to know you and if you rush this, no matter how much you plan, no matter how much forethought is put into this, you are going to lead the cops straight to you. Do you understand me?”

When William didn’t immediately respond, Adam grabbed his face. He pressed his forehead to William’s. Their noses bumping together as Adam forced William to take a single, shuttering breath.

“I just killed someone with you. For you,” whispered Adam. “I am not going to have this all fall apart because you can’t keep it in your f*cking pants.” One of Adam’s hands slid down William’s neck. His arm. He got his hand around William’s. Then, piece by piece, he forced William to let go of the knife. “You already did all this. Don’t f*ck it up and finish too quickly. No one likes a guy who finishes too quickly.”

William snorted. His shoulders slowly started to ease. He looked at the knife in Adam’s hand. He didn’t try to take it back. “Maybe you have a point.”

“Of course I do. I’m now the one with the knife.”

William rolled his eyes hard.

“Now, like you said, let’s get the f*ck out of here.”

William finally turned away from the body. They grabbed their things and left.

Zeke hadn’t believed his eyes when he recognized one of the new beat cops. How f*cking unlucky was that? That he was getting stuck here as his first assignment? The worst f*cking precinct in the city and one of the most corrupt cities in the st–

“Hey Zeke!”

The young guy sent him an absolutely pleasant smile while everyone else looked at each other like, did we not tell the rookie you’re not supposed to interact with Zeke unless it’s to stick a dead rat on his desk? Zeke tried to ignore him. He was doing the guy a favor. Just by being nice to Zeke, he was already painting a target on his back–

The guy caught up to him. He threw his hat underneath his arm. “What? You’re saying you don’t remember me?”

“Naw. Naw. I remember you. You’re the guy too stupid to stay away.”

“Yep. Still stupid.”

Zeke cracked a smile. Actually let out a bark of laughter despite how he was trying to hold it back. He shouldn’t engage. He’d put the kid in more trouble than it was worth– “So you’ve gone from stalking me at the grocery store to at my place of work I see.”

“What are you talking about? You were totally the one who was stalking me,” laughed the guy.

“And how’s that?”

“It was you who rounded on me. Remember?”

Zeke continued to try and fight off the smile on his lips. He failed pretty horrendously. “I don’t remember no such thing.”

“Well now I feel wounded. It’s not every day you meet a man who eats Fruity Pebbles.”

“I don’t f*cking eat that sh*t. Like I said, it was for my son.”

“How is Jake?”

“I’m surprised you remember the name.”

“Not every day you get saved by a dashing detective in the grocery store.”

“Dashing? I think you need your eyes checked.”

“And you need more self confidence. See, there’s this book I’ve been reading about trying to be more positive–”

“Oh, there’s a book. That how you get so charming? All that reading?”

“Certainly doesn’t hurt. Maybe if you read a bit more you’d have more tact.”

“Harsh kid.”

“Hey, I drink. I pay my taxes. Don’t call me kid.”

Zeke snorted. “Fair enough. Fair enough, William-yo! Boz, you met our newest and brightest from the academy?”

Just because most didn’t talk to Zeke didn’t mean no one did. A few liked to be more outright with their hatred against him, but there was Boz who was still a friend. He never seemed afraid of getting a target on his back. To be fair, he was well established. William was new. He didn’t have any set relationships that would outweigh his attempts to be Zeke’s friend.

After introductions, Boz started talking about his son and William excused himself. It could have been Zeke’s imagination, but William’s eyes had grown a little harder, a little darker when Boz had come around. It was probably all in Zeke’s head. Besides, just because William was friendly to him didn’t mean he had to be friendly to everyone. And just because Zeke considered Boz a friend didn’t mean William had to like him either.

Not that he cared what William thought of Boz. They weren’t friends. He barely knew him.

And yet…

It was so f*cking easy talking to William. Zeke didn’t want to. He didn’t want to make William’s life harder. Turn the other cops against him. But the guy was just so insistent. And… And…

Having someone to just f*cking shoot the sh*t? To talk to? It was nice. There was just something about William. Something familiar. If Zeke was religious, he’d say he knew the guy in a previous life, but naw. It wasn’t that. Just some weird deja vu or some sh*t. He tried to ignore William on one other occasion, but after that, he pretty much accepted he’d adopted a lost terrier or some sh*t. When the guy was at the station, he was always asking sh*t. Striking up conversations. At one point, William even came in with an extra cup of coffee. He interrupted the conversation Zeke and Boz were having and said, “Not sure how you take it. They gave me an extra one–”

“Gave you an extra one my ass. You’re a terrible liar,” Zeke replied as he took the offered cup. “And I take it as black as me for your future reference.”

William laughed.

Zeke took a sip. It was actually perfect. He glanced at Boz. “Why do you never get me coffee?”

“You never asked.”

Zeke shrugged. He took another sip as…something passed between Boz and William. By that point, Zeke was pretty sure William didn’t like Boz and that Boz was coming to the same conclusion about William. Zeke didn’t really know why, but hey. If they wanted to fight it out they could do it themselves. Whatever. Zeke just got free coffee that hadn’t gotten salt poured in it so he was gonna take it-unfortunately that had happened one too many times.

After a little over a week, the handful of new officers they had hired didn’t interact with Zeke anymore. They’d gotten the message. All but William who was still just as cheerful as ever. And then–

Zeke was technically on the clock. He’d left the station to grab lunch and just give himself a breather from the usual glares and faces of disgust. He heard the radio crackle to life and groaned. f*ck, if he had to be the one to respond–

“I’ve got a 10-999. Off Maston Lake between 1st and 2nd. Immediate assistance requested–”

It was William’s voice. Something in Zeke curled. Turned desperate. The guy had barely started. f*ck. If he got hurt-what if someone didn’t f*cking respond? Or they took their f*cking time? Just because William had been nice to him, they decided to screw over the rookie? What if instead of Zeke getting the bullet in the back, he got someone else killed?

Those thoughts ran through his head as he responded immediately. The sirens were turned on. Zeke spun around in the middle of the street. Cars blared their horns but Zeke ignored them. He could hear other officers beginning to respond but Zeke didn’t slow down in the slightest. When he arrived, there were a few other uniforms on the scene, but it seemed he might be the highest ranking one as he was automatically brought into the fold rather than ignored. It didn’t mean the people talking to him liked it, but the situation was serious enough that they weren’t giving him the usual sh*t.

“The rookie was doing patrols with Jameson when they got a call about some suspicious types hanging around here. Got a similar call a few nights ago. Just a bunch of homeless addicts we scared off. Arrested a few for vagrancy. Figured they’d come back. Jameson let the rookie take point only he found…found…”

“What the f*ck did William find?”

“I don’t know how to describe it. You just got to see this sh*t for yourself.”

The guy stopped. Like he didn’t want to go back inside if he didn’t have to. Zeke gave him an odd look before pushing on through. The area was already being cordoned off with pieces and bits getting marked. Zeke automatically pointed out some things that needed to get done. He took the offered shoe coverings and went up to the second floor. He couldn’t lie. Even he had to take a second to process the sh*t he was seeing. Eventually, he forced himself to move forward. The one that had called it in was still standing near the body.

Zeke slowly glanced at William. It was easier to look at him than the body and the f*cked up contraption it was attached to. “If you’re gonna throw up, don’t do it on the evidence.”

William swallowed. He dropped his hand. “You kidding me? I’ve been dreaming about this since I was twelve years old.”

“You watched Hellraiser at too young an age then,” muttered Zeke. His eyes finally went back to the body. William had said officer down– “sh*t. It’s Fitch.”

“I don’t recognize him. Just saw the badge,” William replied as he gestured at where it lay.

“You missed him your first day. And he hasn’t been around the office the last few. Guess now we know why.” Zeke took his pen out. He carefully pulled part of the contraption up. A ripped away finger came with it. His eyes followed the links and motors. “f*ck. He did it to himself.”

“Detective Banks!” a cop was standing by the TV. Zeke had to hold back a groan. The guy had been messing with sh*t he shouldn’t have, though his interest was immediately piqued as the cop continued to call out, “We’ve got a tape!”

“A tape? What the f*ck is all this sh*t?” Zeke shook his head. He glanced back at William who hadn’t moved. He wasn’t staring at the body with a hard, unwavering gaze though. Instead, it was directed towards Zeke. To be fair, Zeke had seen some sh*t in his life, but this took the f*cking cake. It was probably just shock. He nudged William with his elbow. He wasn’t going soft. He wasn’t. But considering William had shown Zeke some kindness in the past few days, it only felt right to return it. “You ok? No one would hold it against you if you had to step out.”

“I’m good. I am,” William forced out.

“You sure?”

William nodded.

“Then how about you do me a favor and finish marking off the area? You seem a hell of a lot smarter than half these bozos.” His eyes fell on one man standing in a corner retching. “And at least you haven’t gagged yet.”

“I’ve got you,” William replied. He gave a resolute nod. He quickly took lead on organizing everyone despite being so new and young as Zeke slowly continued to go over the body.

If there was one thing Zeke could immediately take away from this, it was that this whole thing was going to become a f*cking circus.

Chapter 12: Passed Over

Chapter Text

They’d given the f*cking case to O’Brien. Even though Zeke had been the first one on the scene. f*ck.

It wasn’t like Zeke desperately wanted the case. There’d been no love lost between himself and Fitch. Something that quickly spread around to dissuade Angie from putting Zeke on the case in the first place. To be fair, this was the kind of thing that could make or break a career. That could raise you up in the eyes of the public or make you out to be a complete f*cking moron. Zeke wanted to know who had done this to Fitch. Why. He finally wanted something other than your standard OD or a gas station robbery getting dropped on his desk.

But he got passed over. Again. Angie gave it to someone else. Again. And then Boz had said, “No one’s going to work with you if you’re case lead. Just let O’Brien take it.”

“Not even you?”

“That’s not what I said, Zeke.”

“Really? Cause it sure f*cking felt like it!”

So here Zeke was. Sidelined again despite how he’d been the one to help secure the crime scene. He left the station in a huff. Irritated. Tired. f*cked up images playing behind his eyes. Mind still churning–

“You look like you could use a drink.” The words were from William. He somehow didn’t look too tired. Zeke chalked it up to either youthful energy or maybe William was just good at hiding how badly the whole crime scene had freaked him out. He’d seemingly bounced back pretty well.

“You done for the day too?”

“Yep.”

Zeke gave a slight nod. He stopped off in the carpark–

“sh*t. The force got money for something like this?”

Zeke’s lips twitched up slightly. “Nope. All mine.” He paused. He should just go home. He should. But…

He didn’t want to go home just to get bitched at. He wasn’t in the right mood to listen to Jake talk about school and homework. He just needed a break and considering Lisa definitely wasn’t going to let him have that…

William looked fine, but Zeke acted like he was doing the guy a favor. “You look like you could do with a drink too. Hop in.”

“Seriously?”

“I ain’t gonna beg. Get in or f*ck off.” Zeke said it with a smile though, showing he wasn’t actually being that harsh. He had to admit he was glad when the guy got in. “Ever been to One-Eye Jacks?”

“No. Went to 8th Street–”

“We are not going there. That’s a cop bar. Last thing I need right now is to see familiar f*cking faces.”

“Fair enough,” laughed William. “Where’s One-Eye Jacks? Near your place?”

“Not really. Closer to Marcus’ actually. Grew up in the area, though the old apartment we lived in don’t exist no more. Marcus actually has a place about half a mile away. Doing landlord sh*t now that he’s retired.”

“That’s your father, right?”

Zeke stretched out the word with a soft pop at the end. “Yep.”

“Hey, tell me if I’m over stepping–”

“I can kick you out of this car, William.”

The guy laughed. “I get your point. Just…I wanted to say sorry. It’s sh*tty what the captain did. Giving the case to O’Brien rather than you. I just wanted to say, you deserved it.”

Zeke tried to not let that get to him. Even Boz hadn’t backed him up. “Listen kid–”

“Hey. What did I say about taxes?”

Zeke rolled his eyes. He dragged the name out. “Well, William, you gotta stop trying to be my friend.”

“Right. So we’re not friends. Just two guys going to get a drink.”

“We’re not friends after the drink,” amended Zeke.

“Ever think I want to be your friend?”

Zeke scoffed. “There are a lot more interesting, a lot younger people around you than me.”

“Yeah, well they all talk sh*t about you so I’m not interested.”

Zeke wasn’t going to say anything, but inside those words did something to him. It felt like everyone talked sh*t about him. His old man. His wife. Even Angie and Boz. The people he should be able to count on and even they weren’t there a hundred percent of the time. Angie was always more concerned about playing politics. His wife was always finding the things Zeke did wrong and was never looking at the things he did right. Boz was his friend, but even he didn’t really support him at work. Not anymore. Zeke was slowly beginning to realize that. And Marucs? f*ck. The last time Zeke had spoken to him had been months ago. It hadn’t even been a proper f*cking conversation. It wasn’t like he was looking for the mushy sh*t, but was dinner and a simple, goddamn conversation that impossible to ask for? Just something with a bit of heart and soul?

“If this line of work makes you so miserable, why still do it?”

It was tempting to get defensive. To even snap at the guy, but…f*ck. It was a fair enough question. Zeke was just so f*cking tired. He woke up tired and exhausted. Maybe he should have quit long ago. If he was smarter and less stubborn, he probably would have. No point in thinking ‘shoulda coulda wouldve’ though. “What else would I do?” sighed Zeke. “I’m good at what I do. When I’m allowed to f*cking do it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What the f*ck you saying sorry for? You didn’t tell me to rat out my partner.”

William shrugged. “If it means anything, I think you did the right thing.”

“f*cked up. Isn’t it? I did the right thing and now I gotta suffer for it the rest of my life.”

“It’s not right,” agreed William. “But you’re not alone.”

“You know something I don’t? Feels like I’m alone all the goddamn time.”

“You’ve got me.”

Zeke scoffed. “I barely even know you.”

“Then start asking sh*t. Detective,” William said with a slight drawl to the title. “What do you want to know?”

Zeke gave him a side-eye. “You always want to be a cop?”

“No. Not really. I wanted to be a soccer player when I was really little.”

“Hmph. I could see that. You got the build for it. What position?”

“Goalie.”

“You gotta be able to take a good beating to hold strong.”

“Trust me. I can take a good beating.”

“Can ya now?”

William laughed. “Oh yeah. Easily.”

Zeke’s lips quirked upwards. f*ck, if he didn’t know better, he’d say the guy was flirting with him. They got to the bar. Zeke led them to a small spot in the corner. The place had been around for a long time. When it was under different ownership, Zeke would find Marcus here, chatting with one of the past bartenders most Saturday afternoons. However, he hadn’t been here with Marcus in years. Marcus had changed his local haunts when ownership had changed. Zeke had kept coming here with Boz though. Had even sat here once with Boz, Kara, and Lisa when a local band had played. Zeke still came here regularly, though it was usually only Boz who joined him now. It was the first time Zeke had taken someone new.

They talked. Some about the case, though it was still too new to know much yet. Fitch had made a lot of enemies. The list of possible suspects would be long. Though narrowing things down wouldn’t be too bad once they struck everyone off without a goddamn engineering degree.

“You think it’s a copycat? When they haven’t even caught John Kramer yet?” asked William.

“Could be. Could be. Depends on if more bodies dropped. Plenty of people pissed off at Fitch. Maybe someone built this up to hide the real reason they wanted him dead.”

“You don’t actually sound sad.”

“It’s f*cked up. He shouldn’t have died like that,” sighed Zeke. And yet… “He made his own f*cking choices. Heard rumors he even killed people. IA never came forward with an official case against him. Have no idea why. Angie always explained it away as he got f*cking results. That kind of bullsh*t. His numbers looked good on paper so we can look the other way. Right? You know he’s the reason I have a bullet wound? The only bullet wound I’ve gotten?”

“No sh*t. I remember you mentioning getting shot. So he’s the guy who didn’t back you up?”

“Him and his partner at the time. Drury. He’s also the reason Marcus retired early. Assaulted and threatened to shoot him after I got shot.”

“sh*t.”

“sh*t’s an understatement,” sighed Zeke. “Listen, we deal with this sh*t every day. Let’s talk about something else. How’s your cousin?”

William practically beamed. “You remember.”

“Sure. Sure. You got any other family that lives here?”

“No. Just him. And he’s doing pretty good now. A lot better than he was.”

“You live far from your parents? You strike me as the kind of guy who’d check in with them every weekend.”

“Maybe in another life. Mom walked out on us when I was about five and my father…my father died early on.”

“f*ck. Me and my big f*cking mouth trying to talk about nicer sh*t.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know,” William replied. He shrugged. “And before you start asking after aunts and uncles, none. Not that I know of anyway. Just me and Adam, my cousin. His parents are alive. Just not really in the picture.”

“Gotcha. What’s he do?”

“He’s a photographer.”

“Huh, I could never do that. Feel like you’ve got to have a lot of patience for that sh*t. Waiting to get a good shot and good lighting and sh*t.”

William laughed. “Yeah, he definitely has more patience than me.”

They kept talking. Beer after beer. It was chill. Casual. Sometimes William would say something or Zeke would say something that reminded him of the age gap between them, but there never seemed to be a moment where the conversation actually lulled. Despite Zeke’s irritation at being passed over for the case, he left the bar in a good mood–

He jerked to a stop and pulled off into the parking spot on the side of the road. William slammed his hand against the dashboard. “Jesus. You ok?”

Zeke stared. At first, he tried to tell himself it wasn’t the same place. It was somewhere else…but no. This was it. Then, he tried to tell himself the list of times on the door was new. It didn’t take long for Zeke to doubt that though. The label was old and peeling. The business had probably had the same hours for a while.

He wasn’t going to blow up with William in the car. He wasn’t going to blow up with William in the car. He wasn’t going to–

“Zeke?”

He jolted back from the sudden hand on his arm. The genuine care and concern in William’s voice was throwing Zeke off. Making him feel weird as betrayal and shock were swirling around in his mind. He shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. Promise. I…I just realized I needed to talk to my wife about something. I’ll get you back to your car.”

Zeke drove quickly while trying to not go over the speed limit. Not by much at least. Despite having a good time at the bar, Zeke could tell he’d thrown things off by the time William was getting out. Yet when he did, the young guy immediately turned around and said, “Hey, if you ever need to talk to someone, you can talk to me. Ok?”

“You want to hear about my problems?” huffed Zeke.

“Everyone needs a welcoming ear from time to time. Just think about it. Ok?” William offered a small smile before closing the door and leaving.

Zeke stayed in his car a second longer before he reluctantly started to drive home. f*ck.

f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck!

This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t f*cking happening. He tried to hold onto doubt. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he’d come to the wrong conclusion. Maybe…

When he got home, Lisa and Jake were finishing up dinner at the table.

“Jake, take your food to your room.” Zeke didn’t know how he wanted to sound, but in the end, he just sounded tired. Just so, so f*cking tired.

“But you said I couldn’t eat in my bedroom. Cause of ants–”

“Please just take it to your room. I need to talk to your mother.” His eyes finally landed on Lisa. She was giving him a hard, unreadable stare.

“Talk or fight?” Jake softly asked.

“Just go to your room! Ok?!” Zeke hadn’t meant to snap. He hadn’t. He felt bad the moment he saw his son’s face. The kid snatched his plate and darted off. “Jake, wait! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to–”

Honestly, he might have saved the ‘talk’ for later. He might have just gone to Jake and talked with his son for a second. Would have tried to get across just how sorry he was. That he was stressed and sh*t. He didn’t want to be Marcus. He didn’t want Jake’s only memories of him to be him being distant or snapping. Before he could do that though, Lisa said, “Great. You come around just long enough to yell at him.”

Zeke squeezed his eyes shut. He slowly let out a breath before spinning on her. “You have no right to talk to me like that right now. You’ve got no idea what kind of f*cking day I just went through only to find out pilates? It doesn’t exist.”

“What the hell does that mean? Are you drunk? Is that it? Go f*cking take a shower Zeke.” Lisa got up. She started to clear the table, dead set on ignoring Zeke, but he stepped around her.

“What are you doing in the middle of the day on a Monday?”

“Firstly, you may be a cop, but you don’t get to police my movements Ezekiel–”

“Zen Health. Right off f*cking Peachtree. That is where you said you were going for f*cking pilates at twelve on Mondays. Right?”

“You don’t get to talk to me like this!”

“That’s where you were going! Just say it! That’s the f*cking place–”

“Yes! Yes, that’s the goddamn name! So what?!”

Zeke leaned in close. His voice turned quieter. Cold and harsh. “They’re f*cking closed on Mondays.”

He waited. She tried to hide it. She honestly did a f*cking good job at controlling her face, but she must have been doing that a while now. He saw it. Saw the f*cking truth.

“How long? Huh?” asked Zeke. “How long? Was it ever real or have you been lying since the beginning?”

She crossed her arms.

f*ck. “The same guy?”

She raised her chin a little higher. Defiant. Which wow. How’d he never notice how big his f*cking wife’s balls were considering she was the one who’d been caught cheating but was somehow acting like it was all Zeke’s fault?

“f*ck!”

David didn’t know how many days had passed. He had no idea when night came or when night left. He only knew when his cage changed. First, it was being tied to the chair. Then, it was being chained to a metal pipe. Now, there was a chain on his foot and he had a whole little room he could move around in. Even his own f*cking toilet.

Not that he ever felt much like moving.

There were moments of clarity. Of fight and anger and hatred at the circ*mstances and the people holding him here. But those moments were far and few between and were growing even farther apart.

As long as he didn’t fight it, as long as he did what they asked, he was comfortable. He was safe. He was safe here.

Sometimes he even believed it. He apologized to Amanda. Told her he was sorry when she spoke to him like he was Adam. He didn’t know what he was sorry for-or that Adam might have been sorry for. Sometimes, she asked if he forgave her and he said yes. He did. Even though he didn’t know what he was forgiving her for. Or what Adam might be forgiving her for. She called him Adam sometimes and treated him like Adam, but he wasn’t Adam.

He was David!

He was…

He was…

So confused.

When it was Lawrence, stories were told. Information was given. Information he was supposed to remember. Information that he was supposed to follow through with. That would help him. That would keep him alive. He just had to listen to Lawrence.

It was easier to remember his own name around Lawrence. The doctor never outright called him by Adam’s name, though David had the distinct feeling he sometimes wanted to. Sometimes it was worse with Lawrence though. More terrifying. David might have a better grasp of his own name around Lawrence, but he somehow had a worse grasp of himself. He was slipping. Slipping away. Slipping quickly. Falling. Falling…

He should be terrified.

But he was safe. Lawrence kept him safe. If he just listened to Lawrence and followed his instructions, they’d find Adam again. He just…just had to listen. Just listen to Lawrence…

Every day was a f*cking struggle. Lawrence said she needed to act like she didn’t know. She needed to continue the setup for the games that John told her of. Nothing more. Nothing less.

But neither was the doctor explaining exactly what the hell he was hoping to achieve by taking Adam’s f*cking brother! What was the end game? How the f*ck was just playing along going to help?!

Some days she looked at John and it hurt. It hurt so f*cking much. She loved him so much. She hadn’t loved anyone like she’d loved John. No one had ever appreciated her like John did. Only he didn’t really. He was testing her again. She had failed him.

Again.

Why couldn’t she get it right! Why couldn’t he just be proud of her! Why! Why! Why?!?

Why couldn’t he just fix her?

Because John didn’t fix anything. He’d never fixed anyone.

Jill visited. One of her rare occasions though from the sounds of it, it just might be her last. Amanda and Jill didn’t interact much. Sometimes there was jealousy there. Sometimes a weird sense of fear. Of admiration. Right now though? Right now Amanda just felt sad for her. Because Amanda had been to her clinic. Only Jill hadn’t been able to help either. Just like John. And then Amanda had…she’d caused Jill to loose–

“Are you ok?”

They didn’t interact much. They rarely spoke directly to one another. Amanda swallowed. “That’s a stupid f*cking question.” Her words didn’t carry the usual fight thought. It sounded quieter. Softer. If she was being honest, she didn’t know how she was feeling right now. Jill’s question was still f*cking stupid though.

They shared a look. Something…something passed between them. Maybe?

“If he really gave you your life back, don’t let him take it in the end too.”

Amanda didn’t know how to respond. He gave me my life so of course he deserves it back you stupid bitch! I’m his legacy; I can’t die. You don’t f*cking know what you’re talking about! I don’t think I know who I am anymore. In the end, she didn’t say any of that. The only response she gave was her own large, blinking eyes until Jill finally left her alone.

As John didn’t immediately need her, Amanda quickly left to the section of the workshop that had become her room.

There was a new letter on the table. Just barely hidden under a sheet of metal.

She read it quickly. Her heart pounded with each word her eyes passed over.

She needed to tell Lawrence.

“Detective Hoffman, you have a call waiting on line one.”

“Did they say who they were?”

“A Detective O’Brien I believe. From some city upstate. I can’t remember exactly where.”

“Did he say what it was about?”

“He wanted to speak with Detective Kerry. I told him she was out.”

Kerry was not out. She was technically right at her desk. Passed out again. Overworked from exhaustion and refusing to go home. If Mark was a kinder man, he’d feel sorry for her. Riggs certainly felt sorry for her. He was trying to save her from herself. Just like he tried to save everyone. All Mark felt for her was contempt. What a waste of a time to be scouring the city for a man that was certainly dead.

Or would be if not for Mark’s intervention.

It wouldn’t matter soon though. Riggs wouldn’t learn anything. No one learned anything from the games. And in proving how wrong John was, Mark would also be setting up his own alibi while killing off the remaining detectives on the Jigsaw case. Amanda would fall not long after. Maybe just before. Either way, Mark would be the last one standing. No loose ends. No one to oppose him. Then, just a few final games to put in place. To finish John’s work and lead the cops on a wild goose chase that Mark would rise from as the hero.

And if Jill ever tried to get in his way…

Well, then he’d kill her too.

Mark made it to his office. He closed the door before going to the phone. He clicked line one. “This is Detective Hoffman speaking. Am I speaking to Detective O’Brien?”

“Yes. Is Allison still out? I was really hoping to speak with her.”

Allison, huh? Mark tried to remember if Kerry had ever mentioned an O’Brien. A friend from a different time? They’d probably worked together in the past. “I’m afraid she’s still out,” Mark replied, “but if this is about the Jigsaw case, I know all the ins and outs.”

“I’ll be honest. I was hoping for more than an over the phone discussion. It would be a long drive, but I’d like an officer’s first hand opinion.”

“You can’t fax pictures of the crime scene over?”

“So far, we’ve managed to keep details out of the papers. We’re trying to keep this as quiet as possible. Even within other departments. The thing is…we don’t know if it’s Jigsaw or a copycat. Hence why someone familiar with the case would be invaluable.”

Well, it certainly wasn’t f*cking Jigsaw. Mark was suddenly far more interested in what Detective O’Brien had to say. “How far out are you?”

Adam cursed as he dropped the poorly formed meatball into the shimmering pan. Oil splattered against his fingertips. He jumped back. “Why couldn’t we just buy frozen ones?”

“That defeats the purpose of making a family recipe,” William snapped back.

“Yeah, well I’ve got plenty of family recipes. It’s called peanut butter and crackers.”

William rolled his eyes. He stepped closer. “That’s too big.”

“Then you do it!”

“Fine. I will.”

Adam groaned. “I didn’t realize you were so f*cking serious about cooking.”

“Well, I am half Italian.”

“Then you should only be half as serious.”

William’s lips quirked up at the joke. Adam leaned against the counter by the fridge. For once, they weren’t in Adam’s apartment. He’d made sure to feed Larry before coming over. Admittedly, he’d grown curious as to how William lived. The place was simple. Minimalistic. Few belongings. Adam could relate. Part of the walls were stripped bare, exposing the brick underneath. It was hard to say if it made the place look artsy or cheap. He glanced over just in time to see William rolling up his sleeves. Adam did a double take at the clear bandage over the forearm.

“What the f*ck is that?”

“Huh? Oh. You couldn’t get tattoos at the academy, but they’re more lax here. Just can’t cover the majority of your skin or be like nazi sh*t. Which is ironic ‘cause I’m pretty sure at least ten percent-no. Wait. Ten percent is too generous. At least fifteen percent are basically f*cking nazi’s anyways.”

Adam leaned closer. He read the cursive upside down. Now that he thought about it, William had always just said ‘my father’ but it wasn’t hard to guess where the meaning in the tattoo came from.

“Is that your father’s name?”

“Yeah. Been meaning to get something done somewhere.”

“Why a tattoo though?”

For a split second, William grew incredibly somber. “Because I don’t have anything else of my father. And at least this way it can’t get taken away from me.”

f*ck. Maybe Adam should have thought before he asked. He recalled William’s conversation about the sketchbook. Probably the number one thing he would have liked to keep. A gift from his dad. And he hadn’t even been able to keep that. Adam had continued to keep his parents at a distance. He still was only calling them about once a month-it was safer for them anyways. But at least he had pictures of them. He had a few small, dumb gifts of theirs. If he ever decided to visit them, he’d be able to see the old board games him and his brother had grown up with. More photos. Just a life lived. William didn’t have any of that.

Getting a tattoo of his father’s name was a simple, somber act. One that was surprisingly human and down to earth. But… “What are you going to tell Zeke when he sees it?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve already thought of that. I’ll just say it’s the name of a family pet. Or it’s my kid’s name. If I ever had a kid, I’d give him my father’s name.”

“William.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have a kid.”

“But it wouldn’t be that hard to pretend.”

“How the hell would pretending to have a kid not be hard?” asked Adam with an incredulous look.

“Easy. Get a stock photo off the internet. Fake a few pre recorded messages over a phone call late at night. Pretend the kid’s up late. Use words that make people think you know what you’re talking about. We’re trying sleep training right now. It’s a nightmare.” William smiled. “Easy.”

“It scares me how quickly you came up with a response,” sighed Adam. “What about just telling Zeke it’s your father’s name? I mean, your last name is different. It’s been years and Charlie is a common enough name. There’s a chance that he won’t even connect two and two.”

“Hmm, maybe. I’ll consider it. Speaking of Zeke, I know who we need to kill next. The police still have no idea who got Fitch so I think we’re in the clear with that. Next, Boz.”

“You mean Detective Marv Boswick?”

“Yeah–”

“Absolutely not!” yelled Adam.

“Why not? He’s a liar.”

“Newsflash, you’re also a liar.”

William stood his ground. “His lies have destroyed lives. His lies have gotten people killed.”

“We killed a guy!”

“Schematics. Fitch deserved it. The sh*t Boz has said though? Up on the stand? Innocent people have gotten sentences-even f*cking lifetime sentences! All while the guilty have walked.” A tired, almost disgusted laugh left William’s lips. “You should read some of the reports I’ve gotten my hands on. The sh*t this guy has done, the hurt he’s caused, and only with his words? He deserves to be tested.”

Adam forced himself to calm down. If he just yelled at William, William would yell right back. He needed to explain this in a way that would actually convince the younger guy. “William, I know you’ve only been working there a few weeks now, but who does Zeke hang out with?”

“Me.”

“Besides you.”

William almost pouted. “Boz.”

“Yes! Boz. And do you know who was following Zeke for months before you joined up with the department?”

“Is this a trick question? You. Obviously.”

“Yes, me. I followed Zeke Banks. Who watched his kid? Who came over for dinner? Who did Zeke go out for drinks with? Went to a baseball game with? Boz! The Boswick family again, and again, and again.”

“Even Zeke’s beginning to realize Boz doesn’t back him up. Not at work at least.”

“So? You kill him now, all Zeke will remember are the good times. All he’ll think about is why he couldn’t have just made up with Boz, and he will f*cking hunt down whoever killed his friend.”

William’s throat bobbed. “Zeke deserves better than f*cking Boz.”

“Then show him that.”

William’s face did a hard change. He was thinking–

Before he could jump to the wrong conclusion, Adam quickly said, “I’m not saying drop all the sh*t you found out about Boz onto Zeke right now. You’ve got to take it slower.”

“How?”

“Honestly? Keep doing what you’re doing. Get to a point where you’re Zeke’s main pillar of support. Have Zeke find the cracks in his relationship with Boz. Let it feel like Zeke’s the one making all the choices. Then, whenever you do allow the shoe to drop about Boz lying in court, it’ll be Zeke coming to all the conclusions. He’ll make the decision about where his and Boz’s relationship lies. Or at least he’ll think he’s the one making that decision.”

“Adam,” William slowly said, “you can be really clever sometimes.”

“Putting that critical thinking from tenth grade English to use.”

William laughed. “That you are-” He smacked Adam’s hand. “Stop eating the olives.”

“I’m hungry. You know, if this was a frozen meal, we would have already microwaved it and eaten it by now.”

“And you call me impatient,” William laughed again. “Grab the oregano for me.”

Adam groaned but quickly did so.

Chapter 13: Too Smart for their own Good

Chapter Text

Mark Hoffman was in the back evidence room. It was just him and O’Brien. Mark had learned that O’Brien had once been Kerry’s mentor. Years ago. In a past life. If Mark had needed to, he could have easily used O’Brien to get to Kerry. First, the man she’d had an affair with, then the man that had been her mentor. Eric Matthews would do for now though. The games were too far ahead to change the plans this late.

Currently, Mark picked up the carefully dismantled pieces. The work was solid. Good. But it wasn’t John’s. It didn’t hold the same harsh finesse as Amanda’s. He sure as sh*t knew it wasn’t his own. He could have easily walked in, told O’Brien this crime had nothing to do with Jigsaw, and then drove straight home. He wanted more information though. More access to the files and photos O’Brien was carefully holding close to his chest.

“What else do you have?”

They moved to an interrogation room. O’Brien had already moved a lot there. Everything set up in careful, organized stacks. Mark’s eyes roamed over each item. He examined the body. The details of each physical injury. The exact cause of death. No sign of a Jigsaw piece missing though. Nothing carved into the skin post-mortem. “Was there a recorder?” asked Mark.

“Better. A tape. Let’s move to my office.” O’Brien organized everything. Packed it up. Mark followed him back into the bullpen. They passed the open desks and moved to one of the more private rooms. As they walked by, Mark noted a mouse trap on top of an empty officer’s desk. A large, dead rat lay with its neck broken in the trap.

“Rat problem?”

“Something like that.”

O’Brien didn’t divulge further. Mark didn’t ask. Probably inner office drama he had no interest in. O’Brien let Mark have the chair. He pulled up the file. Mark watched it. He saw the intent. The purpose. The pieces of the trap, the injuries on the body, they all made sense once the game was presented too. But was the game a fair one or an excuse? It was difficult to tell now that the trap was fully broken down.

In the end, Mark gave them a lot of useless information. He gave O’Brien some helpful information too though. It wasn’t Jigsaw. It didn’t look like Amanda Young’s work either. They were better off looking in their own backyard for their culprit. Not across the state. Possibly the most helpful piece of information Mark gave them though was this.

“If he’d ripped off his fingers, he would have survived. Right?”

O’Brien made a face. “Possibly.”

“Who did he shoot? Who got shot because of him? Look in your records and you might find something more useful than chasing the Jigsaw angle. If I was a betting man, I’d say this had nothing to do with John Kramer.”

“I don’t know if that’s good news or not,” sighed O’Brien. “Thank you, though. For driving all the way down here. Thank Allison too. It means a lot she was willing to go without one of her men. Even if only for a day.”

“I’ll make sure to tell Kerry,” Mark assured him.

“I’ll walk you out–”

“No need, Detective. I’ll let you get back to work. I wish I could have been more helpful.”

O’Brien gave a slight nod. Mark let himself out of the office. In the bullpen, there was some arguing going on. Someone complaining about their prank being ruined. A man in uniform shot back that he didn’t care, throwing the dead rat and the trap away–

Mark didn’t have any evidence to support it, but the moment he saw him, he knew. It was him. He’d been the one to kill this precinct’s dead detective. The young man moved quickly. He either had other work to continue or didn’t seem interested in arguing with the other officers over their little joke. Mark followed him. The moment there was some space in the hallway, he grabbed the man by the arm. “Don’t even think about running.” He spoke softly. A low, almost growled threat.

If the young man-what was the name? The name! Right. William. William Schenk. If Schenk was surprised, he didn’t show it. He sounded pleasant. More than pleasant, the young man sounded co*cky. “Detective Hoffman, it’s good to see you again. Reassignment?”

Mark didn’t respond. He pushed hard and fast, getting them both out of the building before anyone could stop them. They took a side door. Walked into the middle of the parking lot. It was empty for now, but Mark still spoke quietly. Or he was about to only for Schenk to drop something unexpected.

“Seth Baxter was scum. I don’t blame you for not giving him a fair chance.”

There was no doubt anymore. Somehow, this little sh*t knew. He f*cking knew. Mark simply reacted. His carefully crafted mask broke. Just for a moment. His hand launched out. Wrapped around the kid’s throat. Schenk winced. Grabbed at Mark’s wrist but didn’t actively try to shove him off.

“We both know not everyone deserves a chance,” choked out Schenk. “We know there are some people who don’t deserve to live. The man who killed your sister. The man who killed my father. They don’t deserve a chance.”

Mark squeezed just a little harder. Schenk was offering an olive branch. Giving information he didn’t have to. If that information was even real. It was completely possible he was falsifying it. Some weird kind of tactic to try and get on Mark’s good side.

“We have similar wants. Similar goals.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” growled Mark. “You know nothing of what I’ve been through. You know nothing of what I am capable of. I don’t need a f*cking partner.”

“Not asking for one,” Schenk managed to get out. “Just saying we can appreciate each other. From afar.” Schenk suddenly looked behind Mark. “Or are you really going to let all your work go to waste because you got caught choking an officer in the car park?”

At the last second, Mark let go. Luckily, the people leaving the building were leaving in a group. Chatting together. They didn’t even glance to where Schenk and Mark were standing. Schenk slowly rubbed at his neck. Mark stepped closer. “You’re nothing to me. So don’t think for a second I won’t squash you like a f*cking ant if I feel the need.”

Schenk finally dropped his hand. He smiled. “It was good seeing you again, Detective Hoffman. Hopefully for the last.”

It was difficult to say if the kid was being genuine or f*cking snarky with that last comment. Mark’s gaze followed the young man as he quickly walked back into the precinct like nothing had ever happened. Mark couldn’t focus on the kid. He had too much on his plate to balance out. But his interest had quickly renewed in William Schenk. Now that he knew where William Schenk was working, what he was doing on his off time, Mark would have to look deeper into the man’s past than he had last time.

William and Eleanor were in her workshop again when William casually said, “I think I know who might have killed Seth Baxter.”

She stopped what she was working on and leaned back. “Really?”

“Well, remember how we said the death was too early in the timeline to realistically be Amanda Young? How it happened before her own game?”

Eleanor fully turned to look at him. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Clear interest played across her face. “Go on.”

“And you know how people have talked about their potentially being a third player online? Especially considering John Kramer must be on his deathbed by now and Amanda Young isn’t big enough to lift all that equipment by herself.”

“Sure. But two serial killers working together is complicated enough as is. It’s more likely pulleys and contraptions were rigged up to assist in the building of the traps. And Amanda was probably the one who created the traps that were unwinnable.”

“Or, she had help. Mark Hoffman.”

Her eyes sparkled with interest. “Who is Mark Hoffman?”

“He’s a police officer. A detective, actually. He’s the third person helping John Kramer and Amanda Young.”

“That’s a bold claim.”

“His sister was also murdered by Seth Baxter. Her ex-boyfriend.”

Her eyebrow arched upwards. “Less bold. More realistic now. You’ve captured my interest. What turned you towards Mark Hoffman?”

“Being a cop helps. I have my sources.”

“And now you’re telling me. Why?”

“I think you could figure out which deaths were Hoffman, which were Amanda Young, which they have done together, and which were truly John Kramer’s.”

“An interesting thought to be sure.”

“People are always arguing over what’s truly Kramer’s work. What isn’t. Imagine if you were the one to make order out of the chaos. Think of how impressive that would be.”

“So far, all you’ve been saying is how this could benefit me. You still haven’t explained what made you tell me now. Or why you’re giving me the opportunity to do it when you could.”

William shrugged with a small smile. “You’re smarter than me. You can make it sound better, more convincing than I ever could. And wouldn’t it be amazing if you led to the identification and capture of the third Jigsaw killer?”

Eleanor leaned back. William wasn’t telling her everything. But then, he rarely did so. Even when he’d admitted his reasoning for becoming a cop. It was like one step forward, two steps back with him. She’d long since grown used to the walls in the relationship. “It is tempting. There are rumors circulating about a copycat though. Details haven’t leaked yet, but they will. What about that?”

“Who cares about a copycat? This is John Kramer we’re talking about. The thing you’ve devoted this entire workshop to. Be honest. You can’t let that go.”

Finally, her lips moved into a small smile. “That is true. Perhaps I’ll do my own research into this Detective Hoffman.” She wouldn’t just forget about the copycat either. She was fascinated by who and why someone had chosen to imitate Kramer’s work. If they’d even partially succeeded in making something as beautiful as Kramer’s devices. She pretended to think about it for a second longer before she let out a long, carefully crafted sigh. “Fine. Alright. I’ll let you know when I’ve made progress.”

William was still smiling as she turned back to the current project. He leaned over. Holding one piece in place so that she could tighten the necessary screws.

Amanda moved in close. It was her turn to watch over David. Though with how quickly John’s condition was deteriorating, it was growing harder and harder to find excuses to leave him. The doctor needed to figure something out! Lawrence needed to tell her what he was f*cking thinking! They were running out of time. Getting closer and closer to the inevitable.

Some days, Amanda thought of tracking down the woman John had given her. Doing it before the right time. By her own choice. Not John’s. She’d find Lynn Denlon and stab her directly through her f*cking throat. Other days she thought of finding the doctor, handing her as much cash as she could, and telling her to run. To just f*cking run. Amanda thought of ruining John’s game in a hundred different ways. She thought of how she could fail it. She thought of what Hoffman wanted her to do. He wanted her to fail. He hadn’t said it directly, not written or spoken, but they both knew what killing Lynn Denlon within the confines of the game would do.

Amanda was going to die.

She was supposed to die.

She had to die!

Because what else was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to keep going without John? Without his instructions? She could barely survive with him around. How was she supposed to function without him?

She didn’t know. She didn’t know. She didn’t know and Lawrence was keeping her in the dark as much as John did and she hated this hated this HATED THIS–

David stirred.

She snatched up a pair of scissors. Her body moved across the room and knelt beside him. His eyes blinked open before his whole body jolted backwards. His eyes were usually hazy. His brain often full of fog and clutter. Sometimes he pretended to be Adam for her. He’d tell her what she wanted. What she needed to hear. Right now, there was an awareness in his eyes that wasn’t usually there. He wasn’t looking at her but the scissors in her hand. His eyes fearfully followed them. He flinched under her hand as she carefully smoothed his hair.

“It’s getting long. I’ll help you cut it.”

David blinked away tears as her finger carefully ran through unwashed clumps. She held up long strands and snipped. Something like a squeak left David’s lips. Amanda narrowed her eyes.

“I’m trying to help. The least you can do is be f*cking grateful about it.”

The younger man swallowed. Snot dripped from his nose and water from his eyes. “I-I keep it longer. Than my brother. Please just-can you-can you keep it longer? I’m David. I’m David.”

It was a sad request. A pathetic request. A desperate cry to keep some semblance of self. A part of Amanda, the part always angry and fearful and needing to strike out wanted to strike out at David now. To cut a chunk of his hair off or even add a new scar to his pretty little face.

Instead, she snipped the strands. Not too short. She preferred talking like it was Adam. In some ways, it was easier to handle the guilt that sat in her chest. Even while knowing Adam was alive somewhere. Knowing that David existed, that he’d gone through the same thing as her and yet hadn’t been chosen…she still didn’t know how she felt about that. It was harder thinking about that.

“Why did he choose you?” whispered Amanda. She continued to snip at his hair. When he didn’t answer right away, she yanked hard. She felt him squirm underneath her. She snipped his hair again. Still not too short though. “Why?”

“I told you, I don’t know,” David whimpered. “Why did he choose you?”

It was a bold question. Amanda didn’t lash out though. She was too tired today. Too sad. Too lost right now. “I was an addict. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t get hooked until Eric Matthews arrested me on false charges and I went to jail.”

“Who’s he?”

“He was a detective.”

David shivered. “Did you kill him?” whispered David.

“I thought I did. But his body disappeared too. Same as your brothers so I…I don’t know,” murmured Amanda. She squeezed her eyes shut. Bowed her head. “He had a son. He ratted on me. I knew he would. That was the plan. So that people knew who would be taking John’s legacy. Who would continue his work. I did that knowing the risks and I…I hate Eric Matthews. I’d kill him again if I could but…”

“You feel bad for his son,” David guessed.

Amanda’s voice came out like a whisper. “Yes.”

“Did you ever see him? Afterwards?”

“No.” Amanda slowly breathed in. Her body shuddered. Her eyes were like daggers as she whispered, “I repeat, why did he choose you?”

David swallowed. “I smoke. I…I was refusing to see Adam. Because of a fight we had. I talked to our parents even less than him. Didn’t see my family. I…being a janitor or an orderly or just…I don’t f*cking know. I didn’t hate it. It was simple. It was annoying. Gross. But simple. Maybe I just wasn’t f*cking applying myself. Do those sound like f*cking reasons to have my jaw torn open?”

Rather than answering, Amanda asked, “Do you still smoke?”

“Yeah. I’ve been itching for a cigarette while here.”

She didn’t respond to the comment but continued. “Did you talk to your brother after surviving?”

“No.”

“Your parents?”

“Only once. To tell them I’d moved.”

“What did you do, before the doctor kidnapped you?”

“I was just a f*cking janitor,” murmured David. “Same sh*t. Different walls.”

Amanda finished cutting. She stood up and dropped the scissors unceremoniously onto the table. “No one ever changes. No one ever f*cking changes!”

“What was I supposed to learn!” It was the first time in a while that David was raising his voice again. He hadn’t done that since Amanda and Lawrence had first taken him. She watched him push himself up. Watched as his chest rapidly moved up and down. The chain on his foot clinked. Several links hit the ground. “What was I supposed to learn! How the f*ck was I supposed to change! You want to know what changed?! I look over my f*cking shoulder every time I leave work! I don’t take elevators! Some days I wake up and I wish I was dead! I’ll tell you that sure as sh*t wasn’t happening before I was shoved in f*cking murder monopoly! What was I supposed to learn!”

Amanda picked up the scissors again. She twisted them in her hand. “To be grateful for your life–”

“Are you?! Are you f*cking grateful for your life ‘cause you don’t f*cking look it from here–p-please. P-Please I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry. P-Please d-don’t.” David’s anger and fight left in an instant. Amanda had crossed the room. Pressed the tip of the closed scissors to the inside of his throat. Just above his collar bone. His rapid breathing was causing the point to dig into his skin. A bead of red bloomed.

Suddenly, Amanda removed the scissors only to shove them into his hands. “Then you do it! You think you know better than John?! Then f*cking kill me!”

David’s hand shook. He pushed against Amanda’s skin. Just for a second. She leaned into it. Her voice betrayed her. For a moment, true desperation escaped her lips. “Do it.”

The scissors fell from David’s hands. They hit the edge of the bed before clattering to the ground. David started to cry. “I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!”

Amanda moved back. The scissors were quickly picked up and thrown across the room. She yelled into her hands. She didn’t know what she was upset with. David being unable to do it. The fact that she’d handed him the potential weapon in the first place. His words. She didn’t know.

Her body tensed as she heard Lawrence arrive. The telltale noise of the footsteps and cane. She shoved past him, fully intent on leaving without a care. However, she stopped when she heard David again. Soft. Weak. Desperate. She turned back. Took several steps forward. She peaked back into the room. Lawrence held David’s head against his chest. A needle that had been pushed all the way down was removed from his neck. Amanda could see the changes. The way David’s limbs relaxed into the forced hug.

“Why?” hissed Amanda. “What the hell are we even going to do with him?”

Lawrence moved David’s face back. He looked over his features with a critical eye. “He is going to help us. Isn’t that right, David?”

David blinked. Eyelids already moving slower than before. He mutely nodded as Amanda left in a rush.

She hadn’t killed Adam. She might not have even killed Matthews. David was there. She’d just left his side.

So why did it feel like she was slowly killing him as well?

Adam looked at his phone. He thought about calling David.

He almost did…

But what was the point anymore? By now, he just had to accept his brother was never going to answer. Or he at least wasn’t going to with Adam bothering him constantly. With a tired sigh, Adam put his phone back down. His cat jumped into his lap. “Looks like it’s just me and you again, Larry.” He absentmindedly petted her as he fiddled with his CD player.

Zeke couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was bad enough that he’d somehow been the one to sleep on the couch, but now Boz…Boz was really…

“Why do I feel like I’m the f*cking bad guy in this situation?” asked Zeke.

“I’m just trying to say Kara and Lisa talk. We’re still all friends here–”

“We most certainly are not all f*cking friends! I’d say Lisa can go suck a dick, but she’s already been doing that behind my goddamn back!”

“Zeke, it’s not that simple–”

“It ain’t simple!? What? Would it be easier if I’d cheated on her? Huh? That easier to wrap your f*cking head around? That manly enough for you?” Zeke punched him in the shoulder. Not hard enough to cause damage but hard enough to make a point. “I thought we were f*cking friends. I didn’t ask to f*cking move in. I asked for just a damn break! To be somewhere that isn’t that goddamn house and with someone who I thought actually cared about me!”

“Maybe you should ask your dad–”

“What am I? Five? Gonna go running to Marcus? f*ck that and f*ck you!”

Zeke stormed off before Boz could say something that would undoubtedly make it all worse. Of course Zeke knew this was difficult. Their families were friends. Of course it was complicated. But it wasn’t like he’d asked to spend the night in their spare room or some sh*t! He’d just asked if him and Boz could have dinner. Nothing big. Nothing major. Not going out or anything. Just nice and simple and away from all the goddamn drama going on in Zeke’s personal life.

But even that he couldn’t get.

Zeke didn’t know what he was going to do. He didn’t want to stay in that f*cking house any longer. He might go insane if he did. But f*ck. Was he really gonna go running to Marcus? Knowing him, he’d probably say something like, “I got an empty flat right now. You can go hide in there.” Just something condescending. Something that would basically be blaming Zeke for this f*cking situation.

It wasn’t like he was stupid. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known things were bad between him and Lisa. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known she was getting fed up over missed birthday parties and late nights coming home. But was it stupid to say he honestly never would have thought she’d do something like this to him? f*ck, he would have preferred it if she’d walked up to him a year ago, gone, “f*ck you, we’re getting divorced,” rather than lying behind his back this entire goddamn time. It would have hurt less than this sh*t. That was for sure.

Where the f*ck was Zeke going to go? He couldn’t go home tonight. He’d have to eventually. Even just to get a hotel room or something, he’d eventually have to go back for spare clothes and sh*t. But just not tonight. He didn’t want to look at her. He didn’t want to see her. f*ck. Maybe he should just call Marcus up–

“You look like you could use a drink.”

Zeke dropped his hand so he could fully see William. He hadn’t directly talked to the guy about all this despite his offer. However, the whole office had somehow already found out about him and Lisa and hadn’t hesitated in adding it to the ammunition they used to piss on him. Zeke had an awful, sinking suspicion that Boz might have let it slip. Even if not on purpose, that was a pretty sh*tty thing to do. Zeke sighed. He shook his head at William. “Really don’t feel like going out. Sorry.”

“Come to my place then. We don’t even have to talk. I’ll just throw something on the TV and we can sit in silence drinking beer.”

Zeke snorted. “You got better things to do on a Thursday night. I’m sure.”

“Not really. Come on. I got leftovers that are going to go bad by tomorrow and I can’t eat it all myself. You’d be doing me a favor.”

“I doubt that very much…” Despite Zeke’s words, something in him desperately wanted to reach out. He was so tired of feeling lonely. Of being alone. He still didn’t fully understand why William was always around. Why he was always so kind. Just willing to talk to Zeke when no one else was. Zeke needed answers. He would get them, at some point. But for now… “f*ck it. Sure. Where you live?”

“Just follow me.”

Zeke made sure to grab his coat before joining William in leaving the precinct.

Chapter 14: Gaining Control

Chapter Text

Lawrence sat at the kitchen table. He was helping Diana with her math homework. It had been Alison’s idea. She was out late for her own job. Having extended her hours since their separation. She was originally going to hire a babysitter, but had ended up calling Lawrence instead. He didn’t know why. A part of him worried he’d f*ck this all up. Yet Alison had insisted. Said that it had been too long since he’d seen their daughter. That the separation was good, important, but they were separating with the understanding that he would still see their little girl. That his distance and neglect was beginning to worry her for a multitude of reasons. He needed to see Diana.

So here he was. Appeasing his soon to be ex-wife’s wishes. Sitting in the new, rented apartment Alison and Diana were staying in. The kitchen table was the same though. Brought from their original home. So many memories had been made there. So many more they’d never be able to make because of Lawrence’s choices.

They were starting on the long division problems when Diana said something startling.

“Am I bad, daddy?”

“What? No. No,” Lawrence quickly murmured. He put the pencil down. “Why would you ever say something like that?”

Diana looked at the table, refusing to face him. “Because you don’t want to be here.”

“Who told you that? Did mommy say that?”

She quickly shook her head even as she kept her face towards the ground.

“Diana it’s ok to tell me who would say such a thing–”

“No one told me!”

The yelled words were like an electric shock to Lawrence’s system. Diana was usually such a quiet girl. The last time Lawrence had heard her like this was when Zep had held them hostage. Her terrified, choked screams over the phone as Alison fought for their lives.

“You don’t hug me! You don’t look at me!”

Lawrence forced his eyes to move down so he could meet hers. “I am looking at you–”

“No, you’re not! What did I do wrong! What did I do wrong! Why don’t you love me anymore!”

Fat, thick beads dripped from her nose. Tears streamed from her eyes. Slipped down her reddening cheeks and fell into her open, crying mouth. Her shoulders wouldn’t stop moving. Hyperventilating. A garbled scream left her mouth.

“What’s wrong with me daddy!!!”

Finally, Lawrence hugged his daughter. If only to keep from having to see her tortured face as he pressed her cheek to his chest. He kissed the top of her head. Smoothed her hair. He stared at a random piece of wall. His eyes unmoving. His brow furrowed.

“You’re not wrong. You’re not wrong. Daddy’s…I’m the bad one Diana. I’m the bad one. Not you.” He didn’t know what possessed him to say it. He just wanted her to stop crying. Needed her to stop crying. Please. Please just stop crying!

She let out a choked little noise. “You’re holding me too tight.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Lawrence quickly eased off. He brushed her tears away. He tried to keep his eyes on her. He fell on staring at her nose. He just couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes. “You’re not the bad one. You’re not. I…I’m afraid. I’m so afraid it’ll run onto you and I couldn’t bear to see that. You’re not bad. You’re perfect, Diana. You’re so beautiful and smart and so very, very brave. You’re so brave. You’re the bravest girl I know.”

He kissed her again and pulled her back into the hug. The action burned. He wanted to let go. To run. She deserved better. She deserved so much better than him.

“You’re not bad,” whispered Diana against his now snot-covered shirt. “You came back. You came back to us.”

Lawrence had, hadn’t he? And yet so many days came where he felt he hadn’t left the bathroom at all. Days where he wished he was still there. With Adam. The only person he felt any connection to anymore. He felt more of a draw towards Adam than he did his own daughter. It was taking all his energy to put on a brave face and to continue to hold her like this. To give her what she needed even as his skin crawled and he feared even now the poison under his skin was dripping into her.

“How about this?” Lawrence whispered. He moved back and wiped at her tears. “Let’s forget the homework for now and watch a movie? Yes?”

She hesitantly nodded.

“Good girl. Come on. Let’s pack all this up sweetheart. We can pick anything you want.”

They left the kitchen table for the living room. She sat on the side that didn’t reveal the missing foot. Her body curled in tightly against his hip after the tape was put in. Lawrence thought for sure his skin was burning, but every time he shifted and saw the palm of his hand, it remained unscarred.

That was how Alison found them. Curled up on the couch. Diana finally relaxed and asleep. Lawrence as stiff as a board looking like he hadn’t moved an inch in the last hour-he hadn’t.

Alison had to wake Diana, unable to move her all by herself. She was getting big, but Lawrence would have been able to. Before the prosthetic. He could have easily picked up his daughter and taken her to bed. Kissed her on the forehead. Sung a nursery rhyme if she woke up. And now? Now, when Alison came back into the living room after putting their daughter to bed, she found Lawrence crying.

When he felt her hand on his shoulder, he whispered, “I can’t do this Ali. I can’t.”

“At this point, I’m not asking you to do it for yourself, I’m asking you to do it for her. Either that or just cut us off Lawrence. Stop leading her on and say you’ll never see Diana again. Because this? This is hurting everyone.” She swallowed uneasily. “Myself included.”

Lawrence was quiet for a long time. He wiped away his tears. If he could simply break his chains, figure out the mess that was his mind… “There’s something I need to do. Someone I need to find. Then I can…I will be here for Diana. Like we agreed. But I have to finish this first.”

“You’re not going to tell me what it is. Are you?”

“I can’t. For your own safety,” murmured Lawrence. “But soon. Soon this should all be over with.” Of course, that was assuming even finding Adam would actually fix what was broken. Would answer the questions that Lawrence couldn’t even verbalize. But at least when it was safe to find Adam, a different chain would be broken by that point. Lawrence would be free of the man who had simultaneously given him and stolen his life.

Zeke couldn’t believe he was still here. It was all just temporary. It was. He’d grabbed his clothes and a few minor things. Just so he had sh*t to change into without having to go back and forth. He sure as sh*t wasn’t going to stay here. It was still just a couch he’d been sleeping on. But at least he wasn’t stuck at home with Lisa and at least he hadn’t been forced to run to Marcus. He still had no idea what to do. Trying to find a good place on a cop’s salary-especially an honest cop’s salary-wasn’t the easiest thing. He had no idea if Lisa would keep the house or not. Zeke really didn’t care what the hell happened to the place. He wanted Jake to have a stable environment.Obviously. And he sure as sh*t wasn’t going to roll over and let Lisa take full custody. All that was up in the air though. At least for the moment. Zeke just needed to find his own place. The divorce needed to go through. He had so much sh*t on his plate. The fact that him and Boz weren’t doing well and the usual bull from the people at work didn’t help either.

This should have been possibly the lowest point in his life. He should have felt more alone than ever before. And yet…

William’s voice dragged Zeke out of his head. “You in the mood for bagels? I’m throwing one in the toaster now.”

“Sure, yeah,” Zeke yawned. He pushed himself off the couch.

He would be alone if not for William.

This was weird. Right? It should be weird.

Yet somehow William just slipped in. He filled the space Boz had left. Somehow filled the space Lisa had left. He did way too much though Zeke had given up on trying to tell him he didn’t have to. William seemed to enjoy it. They were friends. f*ck. Somehow they were friends and Zeke didn’t know how or why but it was…nice.

Zeke stood up. He walked over and grabbed the mug. His mug. Not his mug. It was William’s mug. But it felt like Zeke’s mug. The moment he’d picked it on that first morning, William had never grabbed it for himself. He’d always chosen it to fill with coffee or water or something that wasn’t beer when getting something for Zeke.

This was weird. This was oddly fast. Something about it wasn’t f*cking right…

At least, a small part of Zeke was trying to tell himself that. The tiny voice in the back of his mind was always fighting to be heard, only it never won out. Because for the first time in a long f*cking time, Zeke didn’t feel lonely. He didn’t. As weird as all this f*cking was, it was nice too.

His eyes traveled down William’s forearm. The tattoo had since healed. Zeke wasn’t sure how long William had it. He hadn’t been able to see it at work. Hidden under long sleeves. He’d only started seeing it after that first night on William’s couch. But Zeke could tell from how bright the black was that it was recent. Zeke had held off on asking for a while now, but for some reason, this morning he found the words worming their way out.

“So, who’s Charlie?” He almost said some snarky comment along with it. Something like ‘you got a girl you’re hiding from me’. He held back though. It turned out to be the smart thing to do.

“My father.”

“Gotcha.” Zeke was silent for a second. He tried to think of how to continue this. Or maybe he should just drop it. He settled on, “Why now?”

“The academy I was at had a policy against them. And they do cost money,” William replied with a slight quirk of his lips. “Just didn’t have a chance until now.”

Zeke nodded in understanding. Charlie. Charles. It was a common enough name. Despite that, Zeke didn’t actually know any Charlies. Well, he knew one. Or maybe knew of one was more accurate. He’d never actually met the man…

“How’d your father die?”

“An accident.”

“Right. Sorry I asked,” Zeke softly said.

“It’s fine. Happened a long time ago.” William said it with a small smile and a mostly stable voice. But that was the key word. Mostly. Even after all these years, the hurt wasn’t just gone. Zeke could relate to that. Understood how hurt could just sit in your chest and everyone just f*cking expected you to get over it. He wasn’t sure what to do though. He doubted anything he said would really help. The thoughts overwhelmed the nagging feeling of a memory.

After a second of hesitation, Zeke reached out. He took the mug William was currently using and refilled it with what was left in the coffee pot. He passed it over before meeting William’s gaze again.

The younger man smiled at him. Surprisingly soft in the early morning light. “Thanks.”

They finished getting ready. A routine. A pattern. No. No it was too early for that sh*t. Zeke was not getting comfortable living in this guy’s apartment and sleeping on his couch. This was not f*cking happening!

But it kind of was.

Zeke left first. He just happened to be ready and William said he had to grab something to drop off at his cousin’s anyway. When Zeke got to work though, he didn’t even have a chance to sit at his desk before Angie was calling him into her office.

He rolled his eyes before turning to her and stomping through the doors. He went ahead and harshly slammed it for her. “What is it now?”

He hadn’t thought he’d done anything particularly ballsy to piss her off. Certainly hadn’t done any ops without going through the official chain of command or gotten into another fight with one of the officers. He raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms when she didn’t immediately speak. “What?”

“I just…I get you’re going through a lot right now. I can relate–”

“You find out your husband of fifteen years was cheating on you too? That’s funny cause I thought you weren’t married,” Zeke sarcastically shot back.

“I’m being serious, Zeke! Urgh, I was trying to be nice, but whatever this is, whatever you’re going through, I just want to make sure it doesn’t rebound on the department. That IA doesn’t have to get involved.”

“What the f*ck are you talking about? Last time I checked, I didn’t fail to respond to an officer when he needed backup. I haven’t stolen evidence. I haven’t lied on the stand. I haven’t taken bribes. Why the f*ck would IA investigate me when the whole department f*cking reaks?!” Zeke slammed the blinds just to add to his point. A few glanced towards them from the bullpen, but most remained focused on work.

Angie rubbed her eyes, not phased by the flair in the slightest. She dropped her hands to lean over her desk. “You always drive uniforms to the station?”

“What–” Zeke abruptly stopped. He thought about it. He reversed that thinking and thought about it again. Was she really thinking… “I’m not f*cking the rookie!”

“You drove him to work yesterday, Zeke. You left work together.”

“Cause his car wouldn’t start! What? You gonna arrest me for being a good samaritan?”

“Boz said you’re actually staying there.”

“You’re talking behind my back. Seriously?! Should I call up Marcus and make sure you haven’t been gossipping his f*cking ears off!?”

“Zeke, what you do in your spare time is your own concern–”

“Then why the f*ck did you just pull me into your f*cking office?!”

“Just whatever happens, promise me Schenk is not going to come in here at some point spouting off sh*t that forces me to put you on leave without pay.”

“He’s a big f*cking boy. He can handle himself,” Zeke sarcastically spit out.

“I’m serious–”

“So the f*ck am I! I am now going through a divorce, I don’t f*cking have a home, and that’s on top of all the sh*t this department puts me through on a daily f*cking basis! You want to know who asked me how I was? Who even gave an ounce of care? It certainly wasn’t Marcus who immediately blamed me for this f*cking situation! It wasn’t Boz! Sure as sh*t isn’t you! You haven’t asked after my personal life in months so stay the f*ck out of it now!”

Angie ignored his shouting. She simply said, “You work together and you’re a higher rank than him. Maybe not his direct boss, but if something were to end badly…I’m just thinking of the department, Zeke. Boz is worried about you–”

“That why he f*cking told you where I was staying rather than just coming up to me and asking how the f*ck I was?! f*ck you if you think my personal life is a bigger detriment to the f*cking force than all the scumbags you refuse to f*cking get rid of!” Zeke refused to listen anymore. He marched out, slammed the door again. Thankfully, the yelling match didn’t continue and Angie stayed in her office. For now, at least. Zeke ignored the eyes on him as he focused on the monitor and tried to finish up a report he’d let sit overnight. So much for this day having a semi-ok start.

Adam looked through the stolen copies on Detective Drury. They almost had everything they needed. Adam was going to look over one last location before they finalized the steps in the trap. As Adam glanced at some crime scene photos, he asked, “How’d breaking your own car go yesterday?”

“I didn’t break it. Just removed a part so it couldn’t start properly,” grinned William. “I put it back last night.”

“You’re insane. What if he’d looked under the hood? Then you would have had a great day explaining why someone would take a f*cking screw from a car or some dumb sh*t.”

“He wasn’t going to check. We were in too much of a hurry,” William easily replied. “You have everything you need?”

Adam nodded. “Sure. Just give me an ax and a raincoat and I’ll Patrick Bateman him.”

It was a joke. Just a dumb joke. Yet an odd look came over William’s face.

“What? Never seen American Psycho? I didn’t get it, but the music was good–”

“You’re stronger than me.”

Adam blinked in confusion. “Uh, you’ve got like an inch on me and I’m pretty sure work out more often–”

“I’m talking about Zep.”

Adam immediately shut up. “O-Oh. Why?”

“I’ve never killed anyone like that. It’s…different.”

“I wanted to live,” whispered Adam. “I-I had to do it.”

“After just being shot? And being stuck there for hours? That’s still impressive.”

Adam shrugged. “So I bashed a guy’s skull in with a toilet seat lid. I still get scared of the dark.”

“Still…I’m glad I met you, Adam. I’m glad I saved you.”

“Yeah, well. You and me both.”

“I’m serious. You keep me…grounded. I think.”

“For a guy who thinks about five steps ahead, you are very impulsive,” snorted Adam. “But uh…what brought this on? Exactly? Was it just my stupid comment or…”

“No. Yes. I mean…I’ve been thinking about it. I guess. Just…I need Zeke to understand. I have to make him understand. It’s like…like…”

“Breathing?” Adam softly guessed.

“Yeah.”

Adam nodded along. He could get that. It was like Adam’s feelings on Lawrence. He’d gotten better. He didn’t go to bed every night questioning why Lawrence had left him. But even with the void William filled it wasn’t…it wasn’t Lawrence. There was a gaping hole in Adam that would never quite be fixed without Lawrence there and understanding why he’d broken his promise.

“Well, I’m grateful for you. You’re like the brother I never had.”

“I thought the lie was that we were cousins.”

William laughed. “Yes, that one. Anyways, better hurry and get to work. Happy hunting.”

Adam snorted at the phrasing. William let himself out. Adam spent a few minutes setting up a plan before grabbing his materials and camera. He went ahead and fed Larry a little extra. There was a chance he’d be out all day. At least this way he wouldn’t have to worry about having to run back home at some point.

For once, he wasn’t trying to track Detective Drury. He’d followed the man a few times already. Right now, he wanted to get pictures for the game. Evidence to show Drury that his secrets weren’t secret anymore and that the harm he’d caused in the past hadn’t been forgotten.

The man hadn’t done much, but that was his problem. He hadn’t done anything. A coward. A watcher. In a way, their second planned game was a personal one for Adam. Drury hadn’t acted. He never acted. He watched and let other people make the decisions. He allowed heinous acts to occur. Out of laziness, contemptment, a benign sense of power, or perhaps even fear, Adam didn’t know. He didn’t really care, if he was being honest. Drury was a voyeur towards the corrupt actions of the police and now, if he wished to survive, he’d have to f*cking do something about it.

Adam would be lying if he said this didn’t feel like a corrupt sense of justice. Like he was finally getting vengeance on John f*cking Kramer. Taking what Jigsaw had done to him and making it his own. Controlling it. Forming it. Using it against someone who actually f*cking deserved it. The papers still wrote about how Kramer and Amanda Young were on loose. Still, things had to be coming to a close soon. No matter how incompetent the police might be, they had to be getting near to catching Kramer if the cancer didn’t get him within the next month or two.

It was a clear day. A comfortable temperature. It was a good time to be walking around the city.

In most circ*mstances, Adam didn’t have to wait for good lighting before he snapped a picture. He took shots of an old cross that was set up near a store front. Old, stuffed bears and flowers were set around it. Nothing was actively rotting away though. Someone still came and cleaned it up every once in a while. A child dead because of Drury’s inactions. A community that either couldn’t or refused to forget.

Then came a picture of a library. A mass shooter had killed several people there almost five years ago now. There was a memorial on the side. A plaque dedicated to those dead and also one commemorating the officers that had arrived at the scene of the crime and shot the suspect dead. The plaque failed to mention the power struggle between officers that had wasted time and allowed further casualties. It failed to mention that Drury had responded slowly to the call, dealing with a hangover from the night before.

After that, a street corner. The sight where a woman had become disabled for life because Drury had followed his partner’s instructions and had driven on after a suspect without regard to the people on the streets.

On Adam went. Exploring pieces and parts of the city he hadn’t had a chance to see until now. He even stopped at a bodega and snagged some surprisingly good food. He’d have to remember the place should he ever be in this part of town again.

In between photos for the game, Adam took other pictures too. Sometimes an angle just caught his eyes. An interesting piece of architecture. Most people didn’t notice him, but an old couple did in one dilapidated part of town. He lied. Claimed he was taking photos for an art project on inner city life. They asked if he’d like to take their picture and after a moment of thought, he agreed.

That night when he went to develop the photos, he placed that one aside. So rarely did he have people looking directly into his camera. It felt oddly satisfying. Taking something that wasn’t trying to reveal a dirty secret. Just two people with the faces of lives well lived. It reminded him of why he’d started taking pictures in the first place. Sure, it had partially been to hide. But he’d enjoyed the feeling of capturing moments as well. Moments of mundane things that would normally be forgotten but no longer would now that an image of it existed.

He placed that photo aside. Made sure he saved it before focusing back on Drury’s test. With Zeke staying at William’s place, Adam was doing a lot more of the work this time. He had all the tools and equipment he needed. He even had the mask William had made and worn to take down Fitch. William had said he could make the video and yet…

Adam went to the hidden compartment in the closet. He pulled the mask out. His fingers carefully moved over the tanned skin. He looked at the black holes where the eyes had once lay. After a moment of hesitation, he spun it around in his hands. His fingers tangled in the fake, curly black hair. A moment more passed. Adam’s eyes closed. His hands moved quickly. The mask passed over his face. He just barely let go of the sides. His hands remained up and open by either cheek. Like he might have to suddenly throw the thing off in some mad dash.

Whatever reason might call for that didn’t come though. Up and down. Adam’s chest moved. He breathed in the musty scent. It wasn’t a pleasant one to be sure, yet still he remained calm.

The face in the dark. Illuminated by the flash of a camera.

His bat. Useless and quickly falling to the ground.

It had happened so fast he hadn’t had time to be scared. Not truly. That had of course come later. In the bathroom. In the dark with a broken promise.

That face was no longer coming for him though. That face was his own. He was the one in control. Not Kramer. He was creating the games now. Creating the rules. He had the answers. No longer was he lost in the dark with a million questions. It was an intoxicating feeling. Almost as good as a newly lit cigarette.

With a breathless laugh, Adam took off the mask. He quickly put it back up before returning to the design of the game. Larry sat in his lap as he wrote out design plans and figured out the exact wording he wanted. He became so laser focused, he didn’t stop until he was done and it was well past two o’clock in the morning.

William could tell something was off when Zeke got back to the apartment. He’d heard that the captain had called Zeke in for a short meeting, but no one at the precinct had known what it was about. Just that they’d yelled at each other, Zeke especially getting riled up. Nothing concrete had been overheard though and no one had really been surprised the captain was getting fed up with Zeke too. There hadn’t been any gossip for William to work off of.

If the conversation had just been about work or Zeke doing something in a way the captain didn’t like, then William imagined he would have heard Zeke complaining about it the moment he walked in. Instead, the man just asked if William was planning to take a shower. William shook his head.

“I’ll do it in the morning.”

And in Zeke had disappeared. Quick as could be. Considering Zeke had stayed at the office extra late today, William normally would have made the couch for him and let him go to sleep. However, he decided to change things up. Instead, he warmed up some food for Zeke, turned on the TV, and sat down with a beer for himself. He acted casual enough, but the moment Zeke was out of the shower, William could tell he’d thrown Zeke off. Whatever had happened between him and the captain, he didn’t want to talk about it.

William was determined they would.

“Here. I warmed up some dinner for you. I know it’s late but I bet you skipped dinner anyways.”

“Yeah…” Zeke said it slowly. He was clearly conflicted. He hesitantly walked over and sat on the very far edge of the couch. He picked at the food for a moment. His eyes glanced from the food to the TV.

William let them sit in a semi-awkward silence before he said, “Heard the captain called you into her office. I hope it wasn’t anything serious.”

“Uh…naw. Not really. I guess.”

“What was it about? If you don’t mind me asking?”

William looked over. He watched with rapt interest as Zeke seemed to be weighing his options. When Zeke finally did speak, it was flippant. Like this was all some joke. Phrased in a way that clearly implied the captain was stupid for even suggesting it. But underneath Zeke’s exterior was confusion and uncertainty. William could see it easily despite how hard Zeke tried to hide it.

“It’s stupid. It was real f*cking stupid. Boz told her I was staying here. Got no f*cking clue why. But she thought-so god damn stupid. She’s worrying about the wrong sh*t. Again. I don’t even understand why the f*ck she would think–”

William smoothly interrupted the rambling. “What stupid thing would that be?” He said it as casual and indifferent as possible. Tried to make it seem that no matter what Zeke said, it wouldn’t change anything.

“Just…you’re gonna f*cking laugh. Totally god damn stupid. Still can’t believe she called me into the f*cking office. But she was afraid of there being an internal affairs investigation or some sh*t from me temporarily living here.”

“What? Can the force control where you live now? I don’t remember that being in the paperwork,” joked William.

“Heh. Not exactly.” William’s ease clearly helped ease Zeke. The man finally just came out and said it. “She thought we were f*cking or some sh*t. Absolutely f*cking stupid. Especially when there’s real sh*t she could be dealing with. Right?”

Zeke finally looked to William. He was expecting an answer. William’s mind worked quickly. It would be so easy to laugh it off. To keep their relationship where it was currently at. To not try and rock the boat. But if William was being honest with himself, if he didn’t say something now, he’d likely do something rash later. Like Adam had said, he was insane for messing with his own car just as an excuse to spend some extra time with Zeke. He was self aware enough to know he’d begin to escalate over the coming days. Why not just let it out in the open now?

“Why is that stupid? You're a handsome guy.” William said it like he was telling Zeke the weather. Just a simple, obvious fact. Or at least obvious to William. The casual way that he was approaching this while not outright denying the captain’s assumption was clearly throwing Zeke off. The older man couldn’t tell if William was f*cking with him or not.

“Don’t be a prick. I’m over a decade older than you,” Zeke shot back.

“You’re saying that like it should matter to me.”

“Ok, now you’re just being f*cking weird. f*ck off. Let’s just agree that Angie had her head up her own ass or something when she suggested it and move o–”

Zeke didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. In a quick, fluid motion, William moved over on the couch. He picked up the plate on Zeke’s lap and set it on the coffee table. He took Zeke’s face in his hands and kissed him. Despite how suddenly it all happened, Zeke could have easily stopped him at any point. Only he was too stunned. He didn’t react at all. Not at first.

The divorce was a recent thing, but people didn’t get divorced because they were having great sex. William shifted. Straddled Zeke’s lap. He kissed the man that he’d known for years. The man he’d obsessed over, dreamed about, fantasized about for years. Zeke didn’t even know how instrumental he’d been to William’s whole world and now William was finally touching him with the only barrier between them being the clothes on their bodies. The movements grew heated in an instant.

Zeke instinctively groaned. The noise brought forth a wave of warmth inside William. Knowing he’d caused that noise. That he could evoke something like that from Zeke. However, in hearing himself, Zeke’s brain finally caught up with what was happening. He shoved William back. Not in a violent way. Just now there was a hand pressed flat against William’s chest. Zeke’s elbow locked out so William couldn’t move any closer. He was still straddling Zeke though. Still on top of him despite the momentary space between them.

“I don’t understand…”

Zeke was trying so desperately to connect the dots. William could see it clearly laid out on Zeke’s face. It was so amusing, William had to hold back laughter. He placed one hand over the one pressed against his chest. “I could help you understand,” whispered William. Zeke didn’t need anyone else. They didn’t look out for Zeke. They didn’t f*cking care about Zeke! Eventually, Zeke would see that. He’d know them for what they truly were. Liars. Corrupt and evil and in desperate need of fixing or just straight up eradication so that this broken system could start to mend. “Let me help you understand,” William murmured. He pressed forward slightly. Felt as Zeke just barely relaxed his elbow.

The moment there was enough give, William was pressing his lips flush against Zeke’s again. It was like he’d never known what water was and now that he had access to it, he was so desperate to take it all in he was starting to drown. Zeke would be his. He was his. Zeke didn’t need anyone else. They were partners. Would be partners. Zeke didn’t understand but he would. He would eventually. See Zeke? See how loyal he’d been? Loyal to a fault for all these years?

When Zeke didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, William guided them to his hips. He grinded down against Zeke. Quickly wrapped his arms back around Zeke’s neck. Probed deep into Zeke’s mouth with his tongue.

Zeke just needed him. He would understand that. He would eventually see.

He was his his his his his his…

Chapter 15: A Connection of Blood

Chapter Text

“Detective Drury, too long you have sat watching the misuse of power within your department. Rather than choosing to do something about it, you’ve chosen to reap the rewards while putting in none of the effort.”

“What is this! What the f*ck is this!?”

“Now, you will reap what you have sewn. Unless of course, you finally choose to put in some effort.”

Unlike with Fitch, Adam didn’t look away. Not even when the gruesome end came. He’d already agreed to this. Had become a part of this. But this one was his own. Not William’s. William had assisted. He’d helped of course. Adam didn’t carry William’s technical knowhow or the benefits that came with working inside the police force. But it had come from Adam’s own ideas. His fears and wants and righteous anger.

His chest shook when he released the held breath there. Each nerve felt like it was on fire. His lips quirked upwards. A half smile that was all teeth. William had to shake him out of the high.

“Time to pack up.”

Adam pulled himself back from the peephole. Once cleaned up, this game was completely done. There would be no anonymous call or toying with the police. The first game had been an introduction. A promise to the officers that their sins would never be completely forgotten. This game would be found eventually. The force would come to realize Detective Drury wasn’t just being lazy and failing to call out. But if they wished to find his body, they’d have to do the work themselves. Or rely on the luck of some poor soul walking in on all this and reporting it to the police.

What would Lawrence think of this? Would he be proud of this work? Impressed? Disturbed? Adam wasn’t sure. He tried to remind himself that it didn’t matter what Lawrence would think. That it was doubtful he’d ever see his doctor again. Adam was getting better. He was moving past the man, but every time he’d thought he’d cut all the threads, he’d find another, unbreakable strand. Like how he automatically referred to Lawrence as ‘his doctor’ or would wonder what the man thought in times like these.

Lawrence had never been his. In a normal sense or even something more twisted. He’d been a husband. A father. He’d fought for himself. For his family. He’d never cared about Adam. He’d left him after all. And now he was Jigsaw’s. John Kramer’s. His doctor. He had never been Adam’s doctor. But still Adam referred to him as such.

Adam and William left separately but met back up at William’s place. Another reason to not immediately drag the attention of the police to the crime scene was because of the officer sleeping on William’s couch. Or more recently, in his bed. William had been wanting Adam and Zeke to officially meet. It was difficult to say exactly how bad of an idea that was, but Adam had eventually caved under William’s boyish excitement. Now, they were preparing dinner. Or more accurately, William was prepping and Adam was stealing what William let him get his hands on. They still had a bit of time before Zeke would be off. It gave Adam time to get his act together and force himself out of his head. There was also time for William to notice how lost in his head Adam was.

“Are you thinking of him again?” William softly asked.

Adam shook his head. “No. No. I am actively not thinking about him.”

William sighed at the bad lie. “Have you ever thought of looking him up again?”

“And say what? I already said everything I needed to. Everything that mattered. f*ck him. He left me.”

“But he didn’t.”

“f*ck off Mr. College degree. He’s not tied up in the closet is he? Dreams and invasive f*cking thoughts don’t god damn count,” sighed Adam. He pointed at William when the younger man tried to open his mouth. “Hey! Uh uh. No. No! Shut up. I’m good. I have it figured out. Ok?”

William raised an eyebrow. When nothing was said, he asked, “Oh, so I’m allowed to speak now?”

“Yes.”

He rolled his eyes. “I just think if you really want to, you could probably–”

“I don’t need advice from the cop murderer sleeping with a cop. Ok?”

“Fine. Fine.” William smacked his hand. “You keep eating like that and we’re not going to have anything left for dinner.”

“You make it sound like I’m a pig at a trough.”

William’s lips shifted upwards at the joke as Adam snuck another slice of tomato. He was definitely going to risk stealing more food when he heard his ringtone go off. He quickly dug through his pockets only for his blood to run cold when he saw the caller ID.

“sh*t.”

“Who is it?”

Adam forced the knot down his throat. “David.” He hadn’t called David back in ages. He’d kind of been hoping for this. That if maybe he stopped bothering David all the time, his brother would finally close the gap on his side. If he was being honest though, it had all been a fool’s hope. Like Lawrence, Adam had figured he’d have to learn how to live without him. How to cut the chords. Even the ones that felt impossible. But here his brother was. Finally just–

Thankfully, William snapped him out of his funk before the call potentially went to voicemail. With a hard hit to Adam’s shoulder, William quickly said, “What are you doing?! Answer! You can use the bedroom or bathroom or whatever if you want privacy.”

“Right. Right.” Adam moved in sudden, jerky motions. He answered the call. His body carried himself away from William and the open space. He walked into the bedroom and closed the door. Despite answering the call, he didn’t realize he hadn’t said anything until a voice spoke from the other end.

“Adam? Adam, are you there?”

The tears started coming before Adam could stop them. One hand dug into his arm. He dragged his nails down. His fingernails broke his own skin. Once. Then twice. He was feeling…he was feeling…

His brother had been a bit of a dick growing up. Adam had been a bit of a dick growing up. They’d been little bastards to each other and even bigger assholes to everyone else when they’d teamed up. Not angels but still kids and innocent only Adam wasn’t innocent anymore. He’d killed a man. Three men now. One for self defense. Two because…

Because they deserved it?

Because William had wanted him to?

Because he had wanted to?

Because he’d wanted to feel powerful? To no longer be a victim? And somehow that justified murdering two–

He was feeling too much. Make it stop. Make it stop! Make it stop!

In a maddening act, Adam turned off the lights in William’s bedroom. It wasn’t perfect. The blinds weren’t completely closed. Light from the street could be seen peeking through. The momentary shock to his system forced Adam out of his mind and into the bathroom. Just for a split second. It had been his tomb. A death sentence. And now he was using it to control his own emotions and thoughts. Like throwing a cold glass of water over his face. He slowly breathed in and out before flicking the lights back on.

“Sorry. Sorry,” Adam whispered. “I’m here. I’m here, David.”

“Oh.” The response was soft. Confused. Like maybe David had thought the call hadn’t gone through or he’d gotten Adam’s voicemail again. There was a slight crackle to the line. Not awful, but the connection wasn’t great.

Adam glanced at his own arm and how he’d scratched it up. He moved from the bedroom into the connecting bathroom. He was rifling through William’s belongings when David finally continued.

“Sorry. I just…I didn’t think you answered at first. You…you’ve been calling a lot.”

Now that Adam was properly listening, there was a clear sluggishness to David’s voice. The sense of elation, fear, and even desperation that had first cropped up drifted away. Disappointment replaced it. He’d take what he could get, but he’d hoped David was calling because he actually wanted to reconnect. “You’re drunk. Of course.” A tired sigh left Adam’s lips as he managed to find William’s rubbing alcohol and band-aids.

“I’m not drunk. Just…tired. It’s been a long day.”

Adam frowned slightly. Ok. Maybe not drunk, but David had to be on something. They’d both started smoking at the same time, though Adam had never done anything stronger. Didn’t like the smell of weed anyways, though he’d had to get used to it with the neighbors at the last apartment. He had no idea what David must be hooked on. Just that the slurring in his voice wasn’t just from a ‘long day’. Whatever. Adam was the last person who should be judging David right now. It had been ages since they’d even talked. He had no idea what David had been doing or going through. Adam should just be happy he was hearing his brother’s voice. Finally. He wasn’t about to f*ck all this up by causing a fight.

“Right, yeah. Of course,” Adam replied. “Um…work been rough?”

There was a very, very long pause. For a split second, Adam thought the call might have fallen through. He checked, but no. It showed he was still connected. Adam hissed as he poured alcohol over the scrapes on his skin. He bit his lip before speaking up again. “David? You still there?”

“Yeah. Yeah just…work. Sorry.”

“You get another double shift-sh*t. I’m just now realizing I have no idea where you work. Where do you work?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just a janitor. Still,” David mumbled out.

Ok. That sounded like a sore spot. Dually noted. Adam started to figure out how many band-aids he was going to need as he replied. “Got it. We don’t have to talk about it. Why-I just-did you listen to my messages? Any of them?”

“A few.”

That response didn’t really help. Adam knew he’d sent some downright worrying and deranged ones. Some had contradicted each other. Had probably done nothing but confuse David. Rather than trying to figure out what David must have listened to, Adam tried, “I want to see you. I-I miss you. Have missed you. I…in case you didn’t hear it in the message, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for treating you like sh*t.” Distant voices suddenly cropped up. Zeke must have arrived. Adam turned his attention back to his brother’s voice along with the band-aids. He balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder as he took the little white strips of paper off the sticky sides.

“Ok.”

Adam blinked. He’d expected a bit more than just f*cking ok. He bit back his retort. He wasn’t going to fight. He wasn’t. Besides, anything he said probably wouldn’t hit with any real weight with how f*cked up David sounded. Before Adam could think of how to continue, David spoke again.

“I missed you too. I’m…” sh*t. It sounded like David was choking up. “I wish I’d just answered the phone f*cking sooner.”

“Hey, sh*t happens. And it’s not like I was offering an olive branch before,” Adam quickly got out. He paused. It was difficult to tell because of the bad connection, but was…no. Those were tears. They definitely were. Tears and slightly choked sobs. Was… Was David really that upset? Or was it the sh*t he was on that was f*cking him up? Messing with his emotions and causing him to cry? This wasn’t how Adam had imagined reconnecting with his brother would go at all. It was a far cry from when they were little. David beating up any potential bully that had picked on Adam for being too quiet and weird and comforting his brother whenever he’d cried. There’d been times when Adam had comforted David. Like when David had broken his leg after jumping off a baseball dugout on a dare. Just…not quite like this. “Listen,” Adam rushed on, “we should meet up. There’s a lot of sh*t I need to talk to you about.”

“That’s…that’s why I called.” David was whispering now. Like he was trying to hide the roughness in his own voice.

“Cool. Great. Um, we could–”

“I can’t meet now. Though. Not…not until the end of the month,” mumbled David.

“Oh. Ok.” Was David being honest, or was it a cop out? Adam wasn’t sure as he finally started to slip the band-aids over his arm.

“Give me your address. I’ll come to you.”

“You sure–”

“I’ll come to you.”

“Right. Fine. You got a pen?” Adam gave his address twice. David even repeated it back to him without having to be asked. Maybe he really did write it down. Maybe this wasn’t a cop out at all and David did mean to come and visit. Adam would have preferred getting his brother’s address or to at least set an exact date and time. Something more concrete than ‘we can plan it later’. There was so much Adam needed to say to him–

“Ok. We’ll see you near the…the end of the month. Later three eyes.”

“Wait! David?! Da-f*ck.” Had he really meant it? Would he even remember the plans? Adam really wasn’t sure. God. What kind of sh*t had David been on? Adam had never heard his brother like that. He wished he knew. Hearing the old nickname had been nice in a weird way though. Three eyes. Because instead of glasses Adam hid behind the lens of his camera. It had been a dumb joke back when David had come up with it and it was a dumb joke now. Especially when cameras could have multiple and you could exchange the lens of some–

Wait. Had David said ‘we’? Maybe…Adam had probably just misheard him. Or it had been the drugs talking or…f*ck. Maybe he had meant ‘we’. Though Adam had no idea exactly who that could be. New girlfriend? Maybe? He’d probably just imagined it. Whatever. If Adam remembered, he could ask David next time they talked. If there was even a next time. He couldn’t help but doubt David would actually get back in contact with him. At least not immediately.

With another tired sigh, Adam snapped his phone shut and shoved it back into his pocket. He quickly looked over his arm. He grabbed a strip of toilet paper and dabbed up some of the lingering blood. Then, he quickly threw away the remaining bits of trash. One last glance in the mirror to make sure his face was clear. No tears. Good. Now Adam was moving back through the bedroom and opening the door.

It was rare that Adam came face to face with one of the people he’d been following. Waking up and seeing Lawrence’s face had been quite a shock. This wasn’t the same, but it was still odd. He knew Zeke. Not how William knew him, but Adam knew his habits. His haunts. The people he hung out with and what days he drove his son to school. A lot of that had obviously changed with the divorce, but Adam still knew Zeke. Or at least a version of him despite Zeke knowing barely anything about Adam.

Adam put on a smile. “Sorry about that. The last thing I expected was a family call.”

“William was just telling me about that. No worries. No worries.”

“Yeah, and then I had to go and change these too. That took a second.” Adam rolled his arm over.

“The f*ck did that?”

“The same thing that attacked my face,” William easily lied as he jumped into the story too. He pointed to the now very light lines on his face.

“Is that why we’re doing dinner at your place?” Zeke asked. “Cause there’s a demon spawn at his?”

“Excuse you, Larry is an angel. Just don’t corner her,” Adam responded. It was easy to simply add to the false story.

Zeke raised an eyebrow. “You named your girl cat Larry?”

“It was that or Fork.”

Zeke snorted. “Remind me to never ask you for naming ideas.”

Adam laughed. He easily slipped into the conversation. After a bit, he let William take the lead. It seemed like it was going to be an oddly normal evening. Even if one person in their party was still in the dark.

“Later three eyes.” David ended the call. He automatically held the phone out to Lawrence.

The doctor gently took it from his hands.

Why hadn’t David said more? Should he have said more? It would have been stupid to say more. Lawrence didn’t want him to say more so David couldn’t say more. He hadn’t been allowed to say more. He’d done what Lawrence had asked. He’d been good. He’d done the right thing. If he’d done something stupid, there was the chance he wouldn’t have been able to see Adam again. He got to see Adam when he did what Lawrence wanted. He just had to listen and follow the instructions.

Lawrence pocketed the phone. “Are you hungry?”

David nodded. He wiped away the tears on his face. The chain on his foot clinked as he moved around the bed. Rather than lying on his pillow he was now slumped against the wall. He dragged the plastic bag towards himself. Stared at the smiley face that said ‘have a great day’ for far too long. Sometimes Lawrence was clearly in a rush. Just whatever he could grab was thrown in and later tossed at David’s feet. Other times it was like Lawrence had forgotten who he was buying food for. Like it was food for himself. Expensive sushi and take out from a steak place. Or like he was buying food for a kid. A bunch of sugary sh*t and juice that wasn’t really juice. Then, on the rare occasion, Lawrence would ask what David wanted when Lawrence came back for him. On even rarer occasions, he’d actually get what David asked for.

And today…

Bingo.

A packet of smokes, a gas station hotdog, hard pretzels, and a co*ke. Lawrence was holding the lighter though.

Of course he was. He wasn’t about to just give David a potential weapon.

Of course he was. He was taking care of David. He knew what was right for him. He was just helping.

The two thoughts occurred simultaneously even though they shouldn’t have been able to coexist. David leaned back when the edge of the cigarette was finally lit. Lawrence quickly pocketed the lighter.

David thought he’d be left alone to eat in peace only for Lawrence to suddenly ask, “Three eyes?”

“I started calling him that when he…when he got his first camera,” David mumbled. He held the cigarette in one hand so he could pull out the food. He ate a bit before glancing back to Lawrence. It was clear he was curious to hear more. David carefully swallowed. “I uh…I did it ‘cause he’d call me pixie to piss me off.”

“Why pixie?”

“Stupid kid dare. Had one of those…one of those giant sticks of sugar. Was about as tall as me. Pixie sticks. Tasted f*cking…absolutely awful.” David took another bite. “I…I climbed on top of the baseball dugout. Yelled ‘I’m a pixie’ and…and jumped. Really stupid. Broke my leg. Some kids called me pixie for it. Adam would if I pissed him off or stole his shirts.”

“And you called him three eyes to anger him?”

“At first. Became…became more…more endearing later on.”

“So your nickname became a term of endearment as well.”

“Nope. Still pisses me off when he calls me it,” whispered David. He took a few more bites. Puffed on the cigarette a handful of times.

In the end, he wasn’t able to eat even half of what Lawrence had brought him. He’d been kind of excited at seeing exactly what he’d asked for for once. Especially with the smokes. In the end, he barely had the energy to touch anything. It was hard to tell if it was because he was chained to a bed and barely had room to exercise. His body becoming more and more used to just lying there. Doing nothing so it didn’t need as much food as before. Or maybe his lack of an appetite was because of whatever liquid was being pushed into his veins on a near daily basis. Either way, he was just so tired. Always tired. He smoked his cigarette to about halfway before putting the end out on the metal frame of the bed. The half used roll of paper hit the ground without a care. He didn’t bother putting the bag of the remaining food on the floor. He just lay around it in a half moon shape. Fiddled with the almost full box of cigarettes.

He was so tired and talking to Adam had only exhausted him more.

Why couldn’t he have just told Adam the truth?

Because it wasn’t time. Because he had to follow Lawrence’s rules. If he followed the rules, he’d get out of this. He’d stay safe. He was safe. Lawrence kept him safe–

“Am I a good man?”

David stopped fiddling with the box. His eyes slowly moved upwards to meet Lawrence.

What the f*ck do you mean ‘am I a good man?’! You kidnapped me you sick f*ck! I’ve been trapped here for god knows how long! f*ck you! I’ll kill you, you motherf*cker! f*ck you–

He didn’t say any of that. He just whispered, “Yes.”

A sad smile graced Lawrence’s lips. He was usually more stoic than that. It was odd seeing a real sense of emotion grace the doctor’s face. Especially an emotion that wasn’t mild annoyance. “Do you mean that?”

David swallowed. He spoke with conviction. Conviction he didn’t know if it was real or fake. “Of course.” And then he started to cry. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know didn’t know didn’t know–

He pressed his face into the dirty pillow. His knuckles turned white from how hard he was gripping the fabric. At some point, he fell asleep. It was hard to say how long he slept. Still impossible to say what time it was or even what day when he woke up. All David knew was that Lawrence had left at some point and now he could hear Amanda angrily pacing outside the room.

Eleanor didn’t immediately go onto the forums and start calling out Mark Hoffman. She didn’t simply trust what William had told her. She did her own research and plenty of it. She gathered newspaper clippings. Managed to find recordings of stories presented on the air. Both those related to Jigsaw and those related to Mark Hoffman and those related to seemingly neither.

After a couple of days, she probably had enough to start putting out there, but she liked to be thorough. The last thing she needed was some little sh*t poking holes in the theory. She made sure to use her contact from within the police force. The coroner who’d examined pretty much every Jigsaw victim so far. Everything was double checked and triple checked with multiple timelines laid out and examined.

And then finally, finally photos on the potential copycat leaked too.

Eleanor most certainly hadn’t forgotten about that person.

The entire document hadn’t leaked. Plenty of theories were already swirling around, but Eleanor didn’t pay attention to any of them. She shifted through the pointless dribble until all she had were the facts. Which in this case was simply an officer’s name and two crime scene photos. A quick search of the officer showed that Detective Fitch had been reported as dying in the line of duty. Other than that fact, most of the articles reporting on his death were full of fluff and false words from the police. Nothing really concrete. Always hidden under the guise of ‘we can’t release details at this time’. That was annoying so Eleanor finally turned to the two photos.

Both were closeups. Neither showed the full trap which was a disappointment. Eleanor could make some educated guesses on the exact nature of it, but still nothing concrete. With a tired sigh, she was about ready to put the copycat to the side and focus back on Hoffman when she saw something.

It was in the corner of one of the photos. Not the focus, but there was just enough detail…

She knew that design. Why did she know that design?

After a second, she shot up from her computer. She walked into the main area of her workshop. Her heels echoed across the metal walls before she stopped where all her blueprints were. Most had been created by her even if they weren’t technically her own. Having worked backwards from crime scene photos. Two were actual copies of blueprints that had been taken in as evidence. Upscaled and printed out. Only a handful were her own ideas though. Hers and William’s.

She finally found the one she was looking for. The paper unfurled across the main table. She held it down on its curved edges. Her eyes roamed the numbers and harsh lines before she saw it. The familiar design. Just like what she’d seen in the photo.

Now that…that was interesting.

Chapter 16: A New Accomplice

Chapter Text

Zeke was really beginning to question his life choices. He’d already been doing that, but…

f*ck.

He still didn’t understand why him. He didn’t understand why William wanted him when he was a young, good looking guy. He could probably get anyone he wanted. He was smart. Had been top of his class. Wanted to make detective one day. He could easily be pushing forward in his career, but he was doing himself more damage by just being around Zeke. It didn’t make sense.

The worst part though was that Zeke didn’t have anyone he could really f*cking talk about it with. Angie was more concerned about any particular problems that could crop up in her department. And to be fair, Zeke was doing the very thing she’d first accused him of. He shouldn’t be. He really, really shouldn’t be. Each time he got back to the apartment, he told himself no. Not again. He was going to pack up and leave. Check into a hotel or go to Marcus. He shouldn’t be doing this. Especially not while in the midst of a divorce. It was just one hell of a mid-life crisis or some sh*t.

But then he’d get home and William would just…f*ck. He was so intense. About every little thing. How had Zeke never realized how the younger man was always looking at him? How had he not realized just how William stood by his side or held something out to him? Because really, William hadn’t changed. It was just Zeke’s awareness that had changed.

Zeke should leave. This was no good for his f*cking sanity. William was filling in all the spaces inside his chest. Was replacing all the relationships that Zeke had either been lacking or had but were broken. That wasn’t f*cking good. That wasn’t healthy. Zeke was aware enough to realize that. But he’d also been so damn lonely that in the moments of William’s attention, it was just so hard to pull away. f*ck, he’d even met the guy’s cousin. His only family he ever talked about. This wasn’t a thing though. Zeke couldn’t let it be a thing!

He hadn’t mentioned it to Marcus, but he honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if Angie had spoken to his father already. What the f*ck did his old man think? Zeke was kind of afraid to know.

And then there was Boz. A guy that should have been his friend. That he should have been able to rely on, only the guy had pulled away more and more. Had actively begun treating William like sh*t at work. Ignoring him or giving him stupid tasks below his paygrade. For whatever reason, William always did as Boz asked with an easy smile and a glint in his eyes that set the warning sounds in Zeke’s brain off. Something was just so off about this. Something wasn’t right–

Yet every time he felt he had a second to think things through, William would appear with a distracting word or a distracting hand or just…just…

Zeke didn’t know what to do.

Then, just to make matters worse, Zeke found out about Boz.

Things were already tense at the station with Detective Drury still missing. It had been assumed he’d just gotten drunk and failed to call out on the first day. On the second, people really started to look for the man. Rumors had quickly spread that maybe he’d been gotten by the copycat, but without evidence to support that, it was just a useless theory. Being down another detective put Zeke in a weird place. No one wanted to work with him, but they were down two more officers than normal.

Because of that, a victim came in with serious allegations. Zeke was actually asked to talk with her, so he did. Then, as Zeke was getting ready to write up the report, Boz was told to interview by Angie. Suddenly, the entire story changed. She left quickly. No reason. No explanation. From her or Boz, and the report Zeke had started was trashed. Following that, Zeke heard of a handful of court cases that were in the process of being appealed. All cases where Boz had been a witness on the stand. A few key words slipped from William. Suspicions. Doubts. It all fell into place a little too well. A little too easily. Zeke had to know. He had to look, so he did.

He finally did some research on his own pal and…

f*ck.

Why hadn’t he seen it before? Why?! Why?! Why?!?!

And when he confronted Angie? f*ck! The way she’d automatically defended the guy! Said he was making the right moves for the f*cking department!

Zeke ranted about all this to William. Because who else was there to talk to? Who else would believe him or even care? Who else would think this was so f*cking wrong and backwards besides him?

And then William so easily broke Zeke’s lingering faith in Angie down.

“I know she’s like a friend and you’ve got history, Zeke, but let’s be honest. You don’t become captain at her age because she’s squeaky clean. I mean, just imagine all the sh*t she covered up on your dad’s behalf.”

“What the f*ck do you mean on Marcus’ behalf?”

“Zeke, come on. People like Fitch, pretty much everyone in your department you like to call crooks and bastards? They’ve been around for a long time. Marcus Banks would have known. Some of the sh*t they’ve done? Your dad would have had to be made aware of it. How else would they manage to cover it up–”

“You don’t know what the f*ck you’re talking about! You weren’t there! You weren’t around–”

“You’re right. You’re right. Of course you’re right.” William eased his temper as easily as he’d caused it to flair up. “I’m probably just over thinking things. I wasn’t there. Sorry.”

The problem was that William wasn’t overthinking things though. Not really. He was just connecting dots Zeke had either been blind to or had refused to think about. But now he couldn’t help but think about them. The thoughts weren’t leaving. They were constantly swirling in his brain until he finally went to talk to Marcus.

The worst part? William had been right. Of course he’d been f*cking right.

“Crime went down. We saved lives!”

Zeke stood there and actually listened to that f*cking excuse come out of his own father’s f*cking mouth. Listened as Marcus yelled at him for being unable to do his job. How he never should have been a cop. Didn’t have the f*cking stomach for it. Didn’t know how to be a team player and was always making sh*t about him.

There’d been a time when Zeke would go to Lisa when him and Marcus had a fight. Sometimes he’d even sh*t talk his old man to Boz. They would have done it over a few beers, laughing as their wives came back from a girls night out or some sh*t.

Zeke didn’t have them anymore. For one reason or another, he was completely f*cking alone.

Except for William. William who made him feel a little less crazy while also setting his nerves on fire. William who always told him he was in the right even as he gave so little about himself away. Like why he was even interested in Zeke. Attraction his ass, there had to be more. There had to be more! Something was wrong and off but everything around Zeke was wrong and off. He needed to tell someone! To confide in just f*cking someone!

And that was William.

Every time it was just William and no one else.

It was a downward spiral. Every attempt to distance himself or look to someone else just proved further and further no one else had Zeke’s back. He couldn’t trust anyone. Not even his friend of f*cking years!

There was literally f*cking no one.

No one but William.

Eleanor watched William out of the corner of her eyes. Everything had been casual. Easy. It was just like it always was between them. William had asked if she’d divulged what he’d said on Mark Hoffman, but she’d shook her head. No. Not yet. She just wanted to make sure she had all the facts. It was partially true. She’d simply had all the facts for a while now. Had already laid everything out in a clear, logical manner. But she wanted to speak to William. Just once before anything was revealed.

She set down her wine glass. Her hands found one of their blueprints. She rolled it out. “Why so interested in Mark Hoffman?”

“Aren’t you interested in revealing a serial killer?”

“Sure. Sure. But what really brought your attention towards Hoffman?”

“Being a cop helps. I told you. You hear things.”

“Hear things,” murmured Eleanor. She looked down at the blueprint. Her eyes went over a specific part. The part that she’d recognized in the photo. She could keep trying to poke and prod William, but she knew all too well she wouldn’t get anything from him he didn’t want to reveal. She could just release the information on Hoffman. Just do as he wanted. It would be so easy. He didn’t have to be none the wiser. Her brain just wouldn’t stop ticking though. The curiosity. The need to know that she’d made the right connection. Her fingers traced the sketches. She could remember William first stating the idea. How she’d automatically come up with a better solution for a more effective trap. She just had to know. The words slipped out. “And the mesh meant to fit around limbs? Tell me, did that work on a smaller scale?” She started to turn her head only to realize William was right in front of her. He’d moved with her. Completely silent. Now leaning over the opposite side of the table. Eleanor didn’t outwardly flinch, though she couldn’t help how her eyes automatically widened.

She looked at him…

There it was. The piece of William that had always remained hidden. Something in his face was relaxed now. Easy. His dark eyes felt empty, looking at her. He slowly blinked. Like he had all the time in the world.

“It worked just as intended. Better, in fact,” whispered William. He co*cked his head to the side.

They stared at each other. Completely silent except for the slight, shaky sigh that left Eleanor’s lips. She shivered. Was it fear? Possibly. At least a little. But it was also something else. She’d never get to meet John Kramer. She knew that. Recreating the traps was the closest thing she’d ever get to really understanding John Kramer. She’d thought it was the furthest she could get to it. Only William had taken it one step further. A step Eleanor hadn’t really thought of as a viable option.

She should be horrified. She was horrified. And yet her lips didn’t know whether to twist into laughter or a scream. “Are you going to kill me now?” she whispered.

William’s head twisted the other way. His eyes traveled up and down her body. Like he was picking apart exactly what he’d have to do to take her down as quickly as possible. “I don’t want to. You don’t deserve to die.”

“Heh, then don’t kill me,” Eleanor whispered.

“I still have people I have to protect. They come first.”

“Your cousin?”

“He’s one of them.”

“Is he even your cousin?”

“He’s the closest thing to family I’ve ever had since my father died. He has helped me in ways you can’t possibly imagine. Or maybe you can,” whispered William. “But I won’t allow him to ever be caught because of my actions.”

Eleanor tried to bring up the name of the dead detective. What was it? What was it! Right! She tried to connect the dots. “Fitch killed your father.”

“No.”

She blinked in surprise. “Then why–”

“He deserved to be tested, Eleanor. The sh*t he’d done? Hidden behind his badge? How he allowed an officer to get shot just because he did the right thing?!”

William’s voice instinctively rose with that. The calm breaking to reveal anger and hatred and so much feeling that it hurt Eleanor’s heart like a shockwave. William had said he had multiple people he trusted in his new job but only one was a cop. A man he looked up to? Who he would kill for? Who he revered so much that the control over his voice and actions broke when he talked about him? Angry and harsh? Almost a hero in William’s eyes–

“The man in the photo,” Eleanor suddenly whispered. She’d only seen the one photo, but the moment and William’s odd reaction had stuck with her. “Was he the one that got shot? Because Fitch didn’t help?”

“You were always smarter than me. It’s one of the reasons I liked you so much.”

Eleanor moved in a flash. She grabbed the nearest potential weapon. A screwdriver. She brandished it in front of her just in time for William to launch himself over the table and into her. Now, she screamed. She thrashed wildly. She knew the exact places to stab that would cause a man to bleed out in seconds. Knew what nerves to damage that would cause an arm to be useless. But this wasn’t a class. She wasn’t standing over some cadaver. This one fought back. The tip of the screwdriver hit something solid. She pushed and dug in as hard as she could just as William grabbed her hair, pulled her head up, and slammed it against the concrete not once but twice. Her grip loosened on the screwdriver. It didn’t fall. Remaining in the air-or more accurately, in William’s side.

She coughed. Blinked the stars from her eyes. William’s entire body was shaking. He reached over and yanked out the screwdriver. One hand desperately came up. Her fingers curled into his shirt.

“William, wait–”

His hand rose. The screwdriver came down–

It clattered to the side as William momentarily used both his hands to support himself. Eleanor let her hand drop to the ground. William leaned on the wounded side. His opposite hand moved to cover the hole in his side. He smiled down at her.

“I like you, Eleanor. I really, really don’t want to kill you.”

She blinked. Still trying to get the spots out of her eyes. She tried to think of what to say but her head was pounding too hard. The pain traveled down the base of her spine. Pins and needles formed in her feet and hands. William moved his now blood covered hand away. He adjusted her glasses so they sat properly on her face again. A bit of blood smeared across the top part of the right lens.

“sh*t. That was too hard. I’m sorry,” hissed William. He gently brushed her hair out of her face before returning his hand to cover the wound.

“Sorry for…stabbing you,” she finally got out.

“Are you?”

“I think so.”

She felt him relax somewhat in her lap. He eased back. Sat on her thighs as he remained hunched over in pain. “I really, really don’t want to kill you.”

“Then don’t,” whispered Eleanor. She tried to think over the continued, thudding pain in her skull. She had to have some kind of card she could play– “I’ll tell you where my parents are. Where they live. If I do anything, if I tell, you’ll have the means to track them down and kill them.”

A sad smile graced William’s lips. “It’s not that simple.”

Right. William clearly didn’t like the idea of killing her. He’d put Detective Fitch in a kind of game because of the sins he’d committed. Had been inspired by John Kramer. He wasn’t one to start killing indiscriminately. Unless her parents were secretly monsters-which they weren’t; they were sadly quite normal-William wouldn’t want to kill them either. And if they both already knew William would never kill her parents, using their lives as insurance that she wouldn’t speak was pointless.

Something else. She needed something else.

“I’m your accomplice,” she blurted out.

William’s lips twitched up into a smile. “Are you now?”

“I already helped you build one of the traps. There’s evidence of our design together. The original version and how it evolved into what you used.”

“You could destroy the blueprints.”

“Make a copy.”

“You could claim I forced you to do it. You could claim this entire place was mine and my idea and I threatened you. Made you use your name and funds so I could hide mine.”

Eleanor couldn’t help the tired, slightly dazed smile on her lips. “Fair point.” What else? What else? There had to be something else– “I was the one that wanted Fitch dead. I made you kill him for me.”

“Did you now?” whispered William.

“You can take some of my hair. My blood. Plant it at a crime scene if you ever feel the need. If you think me a threat. And we can write several letters of correspondence. Ones that show I had agency and wanted Fitch dead. Keep copies of the blueprints we’ve made together too. That way, if I ever tried to turn you in, I’d be ruining my own life as well.”

William smiled. “I think I could agree to that.” He started to push himself off her. Each movement clearly pained him. He almost fell over but just barely caught himself.

Eleanor briefly thought about going for the screwdriver again. Stabbing him anyways. Ending this now and quick and hoping against hope that the police believed her when they came. She sat up. Too quickly, it turned out. She immediately turned over and threw up on the floor. “I think you gave me a concussion,” she groaned.

“Sorry,” William hissed again. He managed to get to his feet. His blood stained her work table as he pushed himself over. She wasn’t sure what he was going for at first until he grabbed a roll of duct tape.

Eleanor tried to get up again. She grimaced when her fingers slipped into her own vomit. She wiped her hands on her pants before grabbing the nearest structure and managing to get to her feet too. She carefully touched the back of her head. Blood came away but it wasn’t a significant amount. Not great, but it could have been much worse. She glanced over just in time to see William wrapping his wound tightly with the duct tape.

“What a pair we make,” she muttered.

He laughed, though that laugh quickly became pained. “I’m going to need…need us to get everything in order. Right now. I can’t just leave and come back another…another day hoping you’ll keep your word.”

“I shouldn’t be going to sleep anyways,” she groaned. “Just go ahead and make copies of the blueprints. Take my hair if you want. I don’t have anything you could take my blood in.”

William raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve already agreed to write incriminating letters against myself. You’ll leave here with the blueprints and hair. You can get my blood later. Hell, I’ll send it to you myself.”

“Heh. Fine.” William slowly walked over to her. The hand that touched her head was gentle at first. “Sorry again.” Then he pulled.

“Ow! Jesus William!” She slumped against the flat surface.

“Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry. I stabbed you.”

“Good job on that by the way.”

“Thank you.” Eleanor carefully swallowed. She made sure she wasn’t about to throw up before speaking again. “I have sandwich bags in that drawer over there. You can use that to keep my hair in.”

The pair struggled to move around the workshop. The vomit and blood was definitely going to stain the floor. It didn’t really bother Eleanor though. It kind of fit the aesthetic of her little workshop in a warped way. She found a seat and waited for William to finish. She had him give her details on Fitch before she started writing up a letter. She let William read it. He wrote a response. She read his and continued the false correspondence. As she wrote herself into complicity, she said, “If I am going to be an accomplice, I’d like to know one thing. Are you setting up Hoffman?”

“I’m sure you did your own research. Do you really think I could have falsified all of it?”

“No. Not really. Then he’s really an apprentice of Kramer’s?”

“Yes.”

“Have you met Kramer?”

“No. But I followed Amanda Young. I followed Mark Hoffman. I even met them both. I’ve talked twice now with Detective Hoffman. I cornered him with guesses and he gave away the rest.”

“And why out him?”

“Because he sees me as a threat. I’d hoped we might come to an understanding. I don’t know if any of the photos on his sister’s murder leaked, but if you ever saw them… Trust me, Eleanor. Seth Baxter deserved his death. Unfortunately, Hoffman isn’t interested in making friends. The fact that I know means I’m a threat to him now, and that makes him a threat to me and the people I care about.”

“So you’re taking care of him while trying to cover your tracks and stay as far away as possible.”

“Essentially.”

The conversation moved back to the letters. When they’d gotten enough written down, William passed his own to Eleanor and took hers. Eleanor was doing mildly better. Her head was still pounding. Even after she’d stepped away to get some ice for it. William looked paler than normal but seemed to be holding himself better. Once he’d pocketed everything except for the blueprints which sat under his arm, he said, “I’d understand if you never wanted to see me again.”

Eleanor slowly breathed out her nose. She shouldn’t. This was dangerous. So f*cking dangerous. She was afraid and in pain and–

Curious.

Even now, despite everything, she couldn’t help but just be so damn curious.

William seemed to catch on. He smiled again. “Or I’ll see you in a few weeks?”

“Yes…”

“I’ll see you in a few weeks. Sorry about your head.”

“God, will you please stop f*cking saying sorry for that?”

“Right. Sorry.”

She groaned. Her hand shifted the bag of ice that she was holding against her head. She looked at William. Really looked at him. This was so wrong and so dangerous and she was so incredibly f*cked. She was an accomplice. She’d made herself an accomplice. She’d had to, to survive. If she hadn’t thought of a good way to convince William, she’d be dead now for sure.

She should tell him to get the f*ck out. That she never wanted to see him again. Going back to how things were just wasn’t an option anymore. But if she was going to be an accomplice, shouldn’t she try and learn as much as she could anyways? Shouldn’t she get to know her friend? Really know him, for the first time since they’d began talking?

She was scared. Terrified. But god, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited too.

Some time passed as she forced herself to stay awake and continually nursed her head wound. Then, when she felt like it, she moved back to her computer. It was time to post everything she knew on Hoffman.

Adam wasn’t expecting a call from William. He especially wasn’t expecting William to give him a list of medical supplies and to ask him to meet him at his apartment. When Adam got there, he saw why everything William had asked for was definitely needed.

There was shock. A bit of fear. Irritation and anger. It all bubbled up inside Adam. Something had shifted between himself and the younger man. At the start of all this, Adam had looked up to William. Had looked to him for guidance and reassurance. It hadn’t mattered that William was younger. Adam had been so f*cking lost. He’d needed anyone, anything to help pull him out of his head and back into the land of the living.

Because of William, he had agency again. He had control over his life like never before. He respected William’s conviction. He genuinely liked William. But as Adam had grown more sure, he’d grown to realize William’s faults. He was smart, but sometimes that intelligence got the best of him. Made him far too co*cky. His patience was situational. And if Zeke was involved? Well, all patience might as well be thrown out the f*cking window. He was young. Despite how determined he was and how well he had everything lined up, he was still young.

At the start of their relationship, William had sometimes terrified him. Had honestly scared him a lot. Now? Adam smacked William upside the head like he had done to David as kids whenever his twin had stolen his sh*t.

William groaned.

“You deserve that. I can’t believe you got yourself f*cking stabbed while living with a cop!” Luckily Zeke was not in the apartment. Sure, William was probably already coming up with a story to sell the man, but even Adam had to admit it would be a hard sell. William had mentioned a little of what had happened. Adam pieced the rest together. “So, Eleanor stabbed you? The woman with the workshop? The friend that you go and see from time to time?”

“Yeah-ow!”

“Stop squirming,” grumbled Adam.

“Make sure y-you hook it in right.”

“If you wanted professional work done, you should have gone to a hospital.”

“D-Didn’t want to leave a paper trail.”

“Well maybe you should have thought of that before f*cking telling her you killed a cop.”

“I didn’t tell her. She…she figured it out.”

That made Adam pause. “How?” How had she figured it out? What had they left behind? What did the cops know? How much longer did they have if a woman training to be a doctor had been able to–

“We worked on one of the…the designs together. She recognized her own handiwork from a…a leaked crime scene photo on the internet.”

Adam almost rubbed his eyes but stopped himself at the last minute. He didn’t want to get William’s blood all over his face. If what William said was true, then he didn’t have to worry about the cops closing in on them. They were probably still as in the dark on all this as they had been the first day. That didn’t mean Adam wasn’t just the teeniest, tiniest bit irritated though. Adam stopped working on William’s stab wound. He leaned into his face. “William…”

“Huh?”

“Is your head filled with rocks?”

“Heh-ow!”

“This is not f*cking funny! I’d be even more pissed if you hadn’t already told me you made her incriminate herself,” sighed Adam. He focused on finishing up the stitching before he spoke again. “You’re certain she won’t rat you out?”

“She’d be ratting herself out now. And she’s too curious to simply end this.”

“Oh, so she’s insane like you. That’s comforting,” snorted Adam. “You’re not hiding anything else from me. Are you? Have another friend who’s secretly financing us or some sh*t?”

“Heh, no. Nothing like that,” mumbled William. “It’s just Eleanor. I never planned to use our design for one of our games. I thought I’d changed enough. She’s smart though. Saw the similarities. I kind of wanted to tell her. For a while now. She’s a good friend. If I’m being honest, I’m glad she put the pieces together.”

“She stabbed you, William.”

“I gave her a concussion. Makes us even.”

Adam rolled his eyes hard. “You sure you don’t have any more secrets you’re keeping from me?”

“No. Nothing else. Promise.”

Adam gave him a hard stare. William sounded truthful… “If I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll punch you right in the stab wound.”

“Duly noted,” groaned William.

Adam quickly finished. He cleaned himself up. He took the incriminating evidence on Eleanor and put it in his bag. He’d take all that to his apartment. He then took any blood soaked clothes and used medical supplies and dumped them on top of the shower drain. He poured bleach over everything. Thoroughly ruining any attempts at DNA recognition. Then, everything was dumped into a trash bag. Lingering bits of bleach and blood were washed down the drain. Adam sprayed normal cleaning solution and opened a window to mask the scent. He took the trash bag to the dumpster. A quick scan of the area showed no one nearby. He pulled several bags out, threw his in, and then put everything else on top of it. Next, he went into William’s car. He double checked there wasn’t any evidence left behind. William had done a pretty good job of cleaning everything up with a stab wound in his side. It helped that the seats were black.

Going back up to the apartment, Adam checked on William again. There was a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. His bare chest rose and fell in uneven intervals. The area was stitched and wrapped tightly now. It looked professional enough. Adam pressed the back of his hand to William’s forehead. Warm, but not feverish. Hopefully it was just from exerting himself and driving with an open stab wound. Not the sign of an infection coming on.

William leaned into the gentle touch. “Thank you,” he mumbled out.

“Don’t ask me to do this again,” sighed Adam.

“Hmm.”

“I’m serious.”

“Ok.”

Adam groaned. Clearly William was not paying attention anymore. Adam jostled him slightly. “When’s Zeke supposed to get off?”

“Late. Like…eight or nine.” He shifted over onto the unhurt side.

“I’ll stay until he gets here. If you’re about to pass out, we should first get our story straight.”

“I’ll figure it out,” William mumbled.

“Just because we’re good at lying on the spot and not contradicting each other does not mean we need to make it a habit.” He was of course referring to when he’d hurt himself in William’s bathroom during the phone call with David. William had asked afterwards and Adam had told the truth, but in the moment, they’d both easily blamed it on his own poor little cat. It was kind of funny that Zeke now thought Larry to be some monstrous feline when the worst the cat had done was tear up the arms of Adam’s sofa.

Thinking of that phone call gave Adam pause. David still hadn’t called him back. Granted, they were only halfway through the month. They still had some time. He’d wait a little longer before trying to call his brother and solidify plans. Hopefully, David would pick up this time.

He glanced back at William. He thumped him in the shoulder. “Hey, don’t go to sleep. We need to get our story straight.”

William peaked out of one of his eyes. His grumpy face and messy hair made him look even younger than usual. “Fine,” he whined.

They talked for a bit. Used part of the truth and built on what Zeke had already been told. The man knew that William had taken the day off to visit a friend from college. A lie, obviously, but better that than saying they’d met on the dark web. He’d mentioned she was an artist. Not technically wrong. They’d simply say an accident had happened with one of her sculptures. A work in progress. A cable had snapped. Metal had fallen. Adam had taken a bus to get to the city, had picked William up from the hospital there, and had driven him back home. If Zeke asked why there weren’t any painkillers, they’d lie and say William was given a prescription but didn’t get it filled out. He didn’t like the feeling of painkillers and tried to avoid them where possible.

There. Easy. The story was set.

Adam finally let William rest. He went around the apartment one last time. Just to make sure there wasn’t anything left that might suggest William had not gone to a hospital and had in fact been stitched up in his own apartment. When there wasn’t much else to do, Adam rifled through William’s cupboards. He found some cans of soup. It was hard to say if William would be hungry when he woke up. Adam decided to go ahead and make some just to kill the time. He flipped through the TV looking for any good background noise, but there wasn’t anything of interest on. Adam fell back on his bag. He rifled through it. Thankfully, he’d left his CD player in there. He shrugged at the disc left inside. It was better than nothing. He kept the CD player halfway shoved in his pocket as he continued with the soup and heavy industrial noises blasted in his ears.

When the soup was done, Adam popped in on William. He was out cold. A quick check showed he wasn’t any warmer than when Adam had last touched his forehead. That was good. He went back to the kitchen. The oven was turned off. The soup moved from the hot wires. Adam looked through the cupboards again for a good enough container. He let it cool down a bit before pouring it all into the container. Then, he decided to let it sit longer with the lid off before he put it in the fridge. He cleaned up the mess, rinsed everything out and shoved it in the dishwasher–

Movement out of the corner of his eyes had him jumping. He fumbled to quickly yank his headphones out. Whatever Zeke had been saying, he abruptly stopped. He must not have noticed it was Adam and not William moving around.

“Hey…”

Adam flashed a smile. “Hey. Didn’t mean to drop in unannounced.”

Zeke snorted. “You make it sound like I actually f*cking live here.”

Adam had to keep from laughing at the poor attempt at indifference. Going by how Zeke had acted at dinner, Adam was fairly certain Zeke didn’t think William had explained the change in their relationship. Or he’d been hoping William hadn’t spoken about their relationship. Dinner had been easy. Nice. Adam had found they both had a crash sense of humor that had played off each other pretty easily. Zeke didn’t look so easy right now, but Adam imagined that was because he hadn’t had time to mentally prepare. He’d come in getting ready to talk sh*t about his day with the guy he was sleeping with. Not have a conversation with said guy’s ‘cousin’.

Zeke’s eyes traveled to what he’d been doing. “You don’t own a stove at your place?”

“Just figured if William got hungry later, soup would be easiest.”

“And where’s William?”

“Well…don’t freak out–”

“Why the f*ck would I freak out? Why the hell would you start off with ‘don’t f*cking freak out’ if you actualy don’t want me to freak the f*ck out?!”

Adam fought back another smile on his lips. It was sweet in a twisted way how quickly Zeke jumped to concern. Any attempt at remaining distant, just a friend sleeping on another friend’s couch, had completely fallen apart.

“He’s in the be–” The sentence didn’t even end before Zeke was rushing into the bedroom. Adam followed at a slower pace. He watched with a curious gaze as Zeke’s defenses broke down. None of the touching or care had been shown during dinner. Nothing that might have suggested a more complex relationship. Seeing William pale and patched up though? Zeke was genuinely trying to hold it together. But then, who wouldn’t go a little mad when their only pillar of support was passed out and injured?

William had told Adam plenty about that. Adam had even given a few key items of advice to slow William down. In another life, Adam might have felt bad. Now he only felt oddly happy for William. That his wants and plans were actually working. That Zeke seemed to care for him even a fraction as much as William cared for him.

Though William didn’t wake, he did shift his sleep. His hand tightened in Zeke’s grip. Just for a second.

“What the f*ck happened?”

Adam gestured back towards the living room. “Let him sleep. I’ll tell you in there.”

Zeke reluctantly detached himself from William’s side. He kept glancing at him. Even as he moved back across the bedroom. Once outside of the room, Adam sold the lie and sold it well. Even when Zeke asked, “Why the f*ck isn’t he still in a hospital?”

“He wanted to come home. Called me and checked himself out. It’s not as bad as it looks. Just needs some rest,” Adam replied. “I changed the bandages just a little bit ago. He should be good for the rest of the night.”

“Jesus f*cking christ William.” Zeke groaned into his hands. He went and collapsed onto the couch. “His friend, Eleanor, she ok?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah. A few scrapes I think. Nothing serious. She offered to drive him home, but then she’d be without her car. Besides, wasn’t like I had plans today,” Adam replied. He watched Zeke for a moment before risking a question. “You really, really care about my cousin. Huh?”

Zeke froze. He slowly dropped his hands. His eyes glanced at Adam but avoided eye contact. “How much…has William told you?”

Practically everything besides your dick size. I know you always drink your coffee black with an extra shot of espresso. I know you like to go for runs on the greenway. Not that you ever have the time for it. I know you fall asleep with the radio on and that when you lived with your soon to be ex-wife, you always slept on the right side. Lisa Banks should really think about closing the blinds more tightly. I know you still prefer to sleep on the right side. William likes the right side too, but he lets you take it so he has an excuse to wrap around you. I know you throw on your tie last and often fix it in the car before driving to work. I know you get take out at the Chinese place around the corner from the station at least twice a week. I know you missed your son’s first soccer game of the season and you beat yourself up over it. I was following you for nearly four months before William entered your life and William and I keep very, very few secrets from each other. So yes, he’s told me about you, but I found out plenty on my own.

The words flashed through Adam’s mind. He gave a somewhat awkward smile. “A little,” he lied.

Zeke pulled at his own cheeks. Another tired groan left his lips.

“If it helps, William really likes you.” More accurately obsessed, but Adam wasn’t going to say that.

“Can you help me understand why?” whispered Zeke.

It was funny. Adam had helped stalk this man. He didn’t really feel anything regarding that. Nothing positive or negative. It had been a job. Plain and simple. He didn’t even really feel bad about what William was doing to him. At least not normally. But in this moment, he saw something familiar in the older man’s face. He was lost. Confused. Adam knew those feelings. He understood how terrifying it was to be alone. To be looking for answers only to find none. In that moment, Adam wished he could be honest. He wished William would be honest.

Of course he likes you. f*ck, he’s in love with you! You saved his life! It’s because of you his dad even got an iota of justice!

Instead, Adam sat next to Zeke. He shrugged. “From my understanding, you’re a good man.”

“So he keeps saying,” whispered Zeke.

“What? It’s not always about looks. Not to say you look like a gargoyle or something–”

“Alright. Shut your mouth Janitor #2.”

Adam snorted.

“I don’t want to hear sh*t about my looks when you are the most basic looking mother f*cker I’ve ever seen.”

Now Adam fully laughed. “You’re the one questioning your looks. Isn’t every middle-aged man’s dream to date someone half their age?”

“Alright now. Firstly, it’s called a crisis. A mid-life f*cking crisis for a reason. Secondly, what you are imagining is some blonde bitch with tit*, not Casper who’s passed out in the f*cking bedroom.”

“No wonder you got sh*t game if you call women bitches.”

“I said it to you. I ain’t gonna say it to their f*cking faces. Plus, I was talking about the hypothetical dream girl hanging off some divorced dad’s beer belly. Not a real person.”

“Hey, at least you’ve managed to avoid the beer belly right?”

“f*ck off.”

Adam laughed.

“Seriously. f*ck off. I just…” The humor fell away. Zeke rubbed at his eyes. His shoulders tensed. “I just seriously don’t f*cking get it.”

Adam tried to think of something to say. He didn’t have to worry too much though as a noise from the bedroom had Zeke shooting off again. Adam followed. He stopped in the doorway. He watched as Zeke didn’t hesitate to call William all manner of things. Saying he was so f*cking stupid and what had he been thinking and how he needed to be more f*cking careful and what the hell had his friend been thinking. Zeke wasn’t yelling though. His voice was gentle. Soft. And William?

The only way Adam could describe it was William looked like a kid who’d just made the dangerous correlation that getting hurt meant more attention. Which, Adam swore to literally anyone and everything, if William ever stabbed himself just to get Zeke’s attention, Adam wasn’t f*cking helping him patch it up. He might just stab William himself. But there was something comforting in the scene as Zeke gripped William’s hands. How his lips momentarily brushed William’s fingers. An honest, open moment of affection that likely wouldn’t have happened under normal circ*mstances. Zeke’s defenses were too broken down to hold himself back though.

“Hey, I made soup,” Adam said, breaking up the moment. “I’ll put it in the fridge before I go. You need anything else?”

William shook his head. “No. I already feel better. Just needed to sleep some. Thanks for all your help.”

“Don’t ever put me in this situation again,” Adam dryly said. “I’ll call you tomorrow to see how you’re doing. Take care of him, Zeke.”

William gave him a half hearted wave as Adam turned. He put the soup in the fridge like he’d promised. Then, he grabbed his bag full of the false letters, blueprints, and Eleanor’s hair. Adam let himself out.

Chapter 17: Making Sense of the Pain

Chapter Text

David felt the phone in his hands. He slowly opened his eyes. It was time. He should be elated. He should be ready to take advantage of this situation. To run. To get as far away as possible. But all he could think about was how he had to get this right. He needed to make Lawrence proud of him. He couldn’t f*ck this up. He had to do it for Lawrence.

He dialed his brother’s phone number. It didn’t take long to hear Adam’s slightly exhausted tone. It sounded like he’d been on a run or something. Which didn’t sound like Adam at all. Their parents had once entered them into a little marathon in an attempt to get them both more active. Adam had grumpily walked the whole way. David had only run a little so he could at least say he’d beat his brother. David’s lips quirked upwards at the memory.

“Hey, David,” Adam gasped. It took a second for him to get his breathing under control. “I uh…I wasn’t sure if I’d have to call you o-or just…I guess I wasn’t sure if you’d ever call again. What’s uh…what’s up?”

“About me coming to see you–”

“Yes?” Adam interrupted him. He was still a bit out of breath, but the excitement in his voice was clear. “You still want to visit then?”

“Yeah. Um…I should be ready by the end of this week,” whispered David. “If that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s f*cking ok! You thinking Saturday or Sunday or–”

David glanced up. “Probably…” he paused. Looked to Lawrence. “Saturday. I think.”

“Ok. Ok! I’ll remember that. Just uh…call me when you’re getting close. Ok?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Ok. I’ll see you then. Uh, I gotta go now. Sorry. Kind of got my hands full. I’ll talk to you later. Or see you later I guess. Bye!”

Adam had already hung up by the time David softly whispered, “Bye.” He handed the phone back over. His head was clearer than normal. Not great, but clearer. He rubbed at his eyes. “I know what I have to do,” whispered David.

“Good. I’d hate to have to repeat myself,” Lawrence sighed.

“Right. I just…when this is over, what do you get out of this?” whispered David. “You’re helping Amanda. Repaying her back. But I still don’t…I just don’t understand why we couldn’t just go and see Adam.” Why did you have to keep me here for so long? If you’d only asked I would have called Adam in a heartbeat! You could have called Adam! You’re the one who’s been holding onto my phone! Why did you wait until now before agreeing to let me leave!?

“Time was needed, for one,” sighed Lawrence. He sat in his chair with a slight huff. “And for another, I couldn’t leave until my chains were freed from me. They will be. Soon. Once you’ve done your job.”

David’s eyes looked to the side where the cane was always held. “But you won your game. Didn’t you? You got out of your chains.”

“Not all chains are physical.”

David swallowed. He knew that all too well.

He needed to run! He needed to escape! He needed to get out! He had to tell the police the truth!

But he wouldn’t tell them the truth. Lawrence didn’t want the truth. He wanted a version of the truth. Something only David could do. So he could protect Lawrence’s identity. His involvement. So Amanda would be given a chance and Lawrence’s debt to her repaid. David had to do it for Lawrence. That was the only way. The only way to get out was by doing exactly what Lawrence wanted. It was the only way to break his own chains.

William Schenk didn’t exist. Or more accurately, he hadn’t existed until about five years ago.

Finally, Mark Hoffman had something on the young man. It had taken time. A lot of back and forth. A lot of digging. He barely had free time as it was, but he’d managed to gather a small report on the man during his late nights in the office.

William Schenk hadn’t existed five years ago. But William Emmerson had. Emmerson. Son of Charlie Emmerson. A witness who’d seen a police officer push a citizen off a roof. A witness who’d agreed to testify. Who had apparently agreed to the wrong cop. Charlie Emmerson had been shot and killed by Pete Dunleavy. There’d been two witnesses. Dunleavy’s partner and Charlie Emmerson’s son.

William Emmerson had disappeared into the foster care system. The records ended after that. There was no sign of the kid anywhere. But William Schenk had appeared. Looking at the image of Schenk graduating from the police academy and the photo of the kid in the police report, there were definitely similarities. It was likely the same person, though Mark couldn’t tell for certain.

What he did know was that Dunleavy’s partner had been Ezekiel Banks. The man wasn’t a beat cop anymore. He’d made detective. Was a detective at the same precinct Schenk worked at. Mark had remembered the dead rat. A perfect analogy for a cop to betray his own. But why would Schenk remove it? Argue with those toying with the detective? Did Schenk not blame Banks for his father’s death the same as Dunleavy? Perhaps he was only pretending to be friends with the man to get closer. Maybe it was something else. Maybe Schenk saw Banks as a hero. Whatever relationship existed between them though, Banks was undoubtedly important to Schenk. The young man hadn’t come to work at the department by chance.

When they’d last met, Schenk had spoken about admiring from afar. It was a risk Mark wasn’t willing to take. The man knew his identity. It meant it could be used against him. Mark knew William’s too, but he didn’t have proof. Only hunches. He’d seen the case file of the copycat. Had gone over everything with O’Brien. He knew in his gut that William Schenk had orchestrated that body. Just where was the f*cking evidence? The motive? As far as Mark could tell, Fitch had never crossed paths with the Emmerson family. Neither had the second detective that had gone missing. Detective Drury. Mark hadn’t been called back up to give his opinion. There hadn’t been a body or a crime scene or really anything to give an opinion on. Not yet. But considering Mark had been keeping a close eye on that precinct, he heard the moment Drury was officially declared missing.

But why?

There was always a chance it was unrelated to Schenk, but Mark would have bet anything that the kid had put Drury in a trap as well. Only the why was alluding him. What had Schenk gained besides another dead cop? The questions swirled in Mark’s mind as he simultaneously tried to come up with a plan that would get rid of the kid once and for all.

David was out.

There was the sun. There were clouds.

He could run. He could escape. He could cry for help. He could go to the police. He was going to the police. He was going to tell them…tell them…

In a deeply somber twist, it was all too much. The noises. The lights. The people. The smells. Hell, even just the fact that he had options now was overwhelming. He could go that way. He could go that way. He could f*cking disappear. He could go straight to Adam without Lawrence. He could go straight to his parents. He could…could…he could…

He’d been without choice and diversity and stimuli for so, so long that he had to fall back in on himself to cope. He had to hold onto his goals. The instructions given to him again and again. The beliefs instilled in him over weeks. Maybe months? If he started thinking about anything else, focusing on one of the millions of things around him, thinking of an alternative route he could take, he’d crumble under the pressure. He just needed to listen to Lawrence. To follow the ghostly trail the man had laid out for him. That was how he saw Adam again. That was how he got out of this. Not by thinking for himself but by doing as he was told. He just had to do as he was told.

No one really looked at David as he made his way down the street. He was glanced over. People acted like he wasn’t even there. Did they think him homeless? Something else? Or did they not even think of him at all? Each step felt like a chain should be jostling. Each step he thought for sure would come to a screeching halt. He’d stumble and fall and look down only to see the same metal wrapped around his ankle. Only that moment never came. He kept shuffling forward. One step after another. He arrived at the correct building. He slowly moved in. Waited in line to speak with the woman manning the counter.

Maybe at another point in time he would have been laughed out of the precinct. But now? With the games ramping up and the search for John Kramer being the only thing people were really thinking about? David was rushed into an interrogation room. He’d been told to meet with Detective Kerry. To say he’d only speak to Detective Kerry. That was the plan. What he’d been told to do.

Instead, a man stepped into the room. David didn’t know who he was. Was it Detective Hoffman? He didn’t actually know what the man looked like. Had never met him despite how he was meant to pin all this on him. David looked at the table. No. No, he couldn’t speak to him. He had to speak with Kerry. That was what he’d been told to do–

“I’m Special Agent Strahm. I was told you asked to speak with Detective Kerry. I’m afraid myself and my partner, Special Agent Perez, are now overseeing all inquiries into the Jigsaw case.”

David’s eyes quickly flickered to the man before staring at the table again. Then it wasn’t Hoffman. But this wasn’t what he was supposed to do. This wasn’t who David was meant to be talking to. No. No. He couldn’t speak to him. He had to speak with Kerry. Those had been the instructions–

“f*ck this.”

David flinched from the sudden, harsh sound of the metal chair being scraped backwards before being thrown back under the table.

“Probably some junky that read the most recent gossip piece from his magazine blanket. I told you this was a waste of time, Perez.”

Strahm was talking to the mirror. A two-way mirror likely with his partner behind it. The man was going to walk. Was going to ignore David’s words. No. No! This was worse. He couldn’t fail Lawrence. He had to do something. What if Hoffman got word of this? What if he retaliated? What if he found out about Lawrence’s existence?

Strahm’s hand touched the door–

“I was held by Jigsaw.”

That got the agent’s attention. His eyes flickered to the mirror before going back to David. He walked over. Dropped a folder onto the table that had been under his arm. “You’ve got my attention.”

David swallowed. He had to speak. He could do this. He had to do this! “I’ve been held for over a-a month. I-I think.”

Strahm scoffed. David had immediately lost him. He looked ready to go right out that door again. “Jigsaw’s never kept anyone alive that long.”

“H-He’s been keeping Eric Matthews alive that long.”

In a flash, Strahm made a motion at the mirror. The little red light on the camera in the corner went off. Strahm sat down again. He flipped open the file. Put David’s statement that the lady at the front had taken to the side. He took out a pen. “You know this?”

“I saw him.”

“Is Detective Matthews still alive?”

“The last time I saw him,” whispered David.

“Start from the beginning.”

David tried to follow the script. He tried to explain things as he was meant to but it was all slightly off. He was supposed to be meeting with Kerry. Not FBI agents. The weight of everything, the fear of failing, of doing something wrong, it all fell on David’s shoulders. He started to break. His story falling into half choked sobs and one word responses.

It wasn’t intended. His mind could barely form a fully coherent thought. Yet in doing that, he unintentionally sold it perfectly. Distressed and broken and so very, very tired, the only words that were coming to mind were the ones that Lawrence had sold him. Had promised him. Words whispered in his ears and living in his mind. Words repeated over and over and over again until they were the only things left in his psyche.

The thing was, David had no idea if what he was telling was truth or lies. He didn’t know how guilty Mark Hoffman was or wasn’t. He didn’t know how Lawrence had learned what he had. From Kramer. Following Hoffman on his own? Did Amanda know any of this? What did she know? Despite giving answers, David knew none himself.

David eventually stopped talking. Just devolved into tears. His forehead hit the table. He only looked up when he heard someone enter. A woman. She slowly set a cup of coffee in front of him before turning to Strahm. It was easy to guess this must have been Perez.

“I pulled his file. Seems this isn’t the first time he’s been here.” She passed the folder to Strahm.

He quickly flipped though it before looking to David. “You said someone kidnapped you and put you in a torture device.”

David didn’t speak. This was off script. The words didn’t come from him. He sniffled.

“Are you saying you were a victim of Jigsaw before?”

David swallowed. His hands came around the cup. He looked into the dark, sloshing liquid. He tried to think of something-anything to say. “They didn’t believe me,” he whispered.

“Who’s ‘they’?” asked Perez.

“The detective who interviewed me. T-They couldn’t find anything. In the warehouse w-where I said I-I was held. Thought I was crazy. I ran. I d-didn’t-didn’t know what to do. I was afraid the guy who’d done i-it to me would come back a-again but it w-wasn’t just some sicko. It was Jigsaw a-and he-he–”

He barely heard Perez over his own tears. “Leave it for now. We need to corroborate what he’s told us with our anonymous source.”

“I’ll corroborate it. See if this place even exists. You stay here.”

“I won’t have you go alone.”

“We need to make sure Hoffman doesn’t catch wind of our escaped mouse over here and I don’t trust any of these crooked f*cks in this department to do that. If Hoffman is our third man, the one helping Kramer and Amanda Young, then we don’t have any time to waste.”

It was almost funny. If something mind breaking and heart wrenching could be considered funny.

Zeke had planned to talk to William. He’d been trying to build up the courage to talk to William. Had framed it all again and again in his mind. Despite the puncture to William’s side being minor, it had really scared Zeke. It had seriously f*cked him up. Even more so than he was normally f*cked up. He knew now just how dangerously attached to William he was and in knowing, he realized he needed to do something about it. Building up the courage to do that was another thing, but Zeke really and truly knew this wasn’t healthy.

He talked to his family even less. He didn’t have any friends. Nothing outside of William.

They’d never really cared about him. Liars and f*cking hypocrits the lot of them! He didn’t need them as f*cking friends! He couldn’t trust them!

He didn’t know where the thoughts were coming from. Tried to talk himself out of it. Tried to remember the good times. Tried to give the people he’d once loved and cared about a pass. But it was like a hidden, whispered voice was always in the back of his mind. Reminding him of the wrongs they’d done. Reminding him of what his father had done. Crimes they’d committed and hidden and f*cking supported. He didn’t need them. He didn’t want them. He shouldn’t want them. He only needed… He only wanted…

In another time, Zeke might have pulled forth the courage. He might have stepped away from William. Drew a hard line in the sand, firmly defining their relationship.

Right when Zeke thought he might have something though, that he might be able to pull away…

He didn’t. In fact, he fell completely and utterly apart and there was only William to pick up the pieces.

It started as any afternoon. Zeke headed home-no! No, not home. It was William’s apartment. Not his. He was just staying there. Not really living there. Not really. Did his attempt at distance really matter when the outcome was the same though? He had a key. A space in the f*cking shower. A space in William’s bed.

He got there first. A rare occurrence. William wasn’t normally scheduled so late. Despite his absence though, Zeke immediately made himself at home. Because it was a home. Because he didn’t have anything left. Because where else was he supposed to go? Alienated from his handful of friends. His last conversation with Marcus ending in a screaming match.

And then someone knocked on the door.

Boz.

It all just fell apart so f*cking fast. Zeke was still trying to piece it together. Trying to understand exactly what had happened but it was all too much. He couldn’t breath! He couldn’t think! He wanted out! Out! Out!

Boz showed up. He’d invaded William’s privacy. Looked in his file despite how it was against regulations and tracked down where he lived. Boz and Zeke argued. Some awful sh*t was said about Zeke. About how it wasn’t Boz’s fault Zeke wasn’t a team player. That unlike Zeke, he still had a family to provide for. Worse was said about William. Saying he was a freak and f*cking obsessive and if Zeke actually paid attention he’d realize how f*cking weird it was.

Maybe if Boz hadn’t come in shouting…

Maybe if Zeke hadn’t gotten so f*cking defensive…

Maybe if William hadn’t shown up…

So many f*cking maybes but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore because Zeke had…he’d…he’d f*cking…

It all happened so quickly. Boz attacked William. William put his arms up to defend himself, but Boz kept throwing the punches. Zeke grabbed him. Boz swung at him. Zeke shoved him back.

It was just a shove. He’d just been defending himself–

Crack.

Thud.

Silence…

He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t f*cking meant to! He’d just been defending himself! Defending William! He needed to call an ambulance! Call…call someone! They needed help! He needed help! He needed–

“It’s ok. You’re ok. Don’t worry. I’ve got you. I’m going to make this right. I’ll fix this.”

It was like every moment Zeke started to get his head above water, William shoved it back under. He was so f*cking numb. Just sat there on the floor. Staring at his friend. His colleague. Boz’s dead f*cking eyes not blinking once. Zeke just hoping and begging for him to blink and get up. That this was all some kind of sick joke.

Instead, Zeke blinked and Adam was there.

He blinked again.

Boz was gone. Nothing but a blood stain left.

Blink.

William was cleaning up the blood.

Blink.

The evidence was completely gone. Like Zeke hadn’t just gotten a man killed.

A kiss to his cheek. Arms wrapped around his back.

“Don’t worry. I’ve fixed it. You’ll be safe. You’ll be ok. You did the right thing.”

The right thing? The right thing?! He’d killed Boz! It was self defense, but Zeke had still f*cking killed him. William could have testified on his behalf. Could have proved that it was an accident. Bumped the charges down to manslaughter. But he hadn’t. William had taken control. He’d taken the body–

Where was Boz’s body? What had they done with the body? How much time had passed? Why hadn’t Zeke stopped them? Why hadn’t he just stood up and called the f*cking cops himself?!

Because Boz was scum. The lives he’d ruined by being a witness up on the stand. Lying again and again and again–

No! Those weren’t his thoughts! They were William’s. William’s voice and his touch and the promise that everything would be fine and that he’d done what he had to do and that the world was better off with Boz no longer in it–

The next day came. William wrapped around his body. Like nothing had happened. Like they were fine. They were fine. They weren’t fine. They’d…they had…

William found Zeke just standing in the living room. Staring at the spot that should have a stain on it only there was none.

Zeke couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t feel his own limbs–

“Here’s your coffee.” A kiss on the cheek. A cup pushed into his hand.

Zeke was moving. He was reacting. But he wasn’t really. He felt like he was asleep. That this was all a dream. Maybe yesterday hadn’t happened. It had all been a bad dream. A bad f*cking dream…

Zeke went to work. Because what else was he supposed to do? He moved on autopilot. Tried not to stare at Boz’s desk–

“Some homeless guy got hit by the A-Train. Real mess. Need you to go look at it.”

Zeke went with a grumble and a groan that wasn’t his own. He drove there. Passed the uniforms with a simple nod. He got onto the tracks. Walked up to the taped line–

It was the copycat. It had to be the copycat. Even in Zeke’s numb, confused state, he could see the bits of twisted, welded metal and knew this wasn’t some homeless bum. But if it was the copycat, and going by there current track record, then the mess on the tracks was a cop so who–

The watch. Zeke recognized the watch. He used his pen to flip it over. Kara had given that to Boz for their fifth anniversary. There was an engraving on the back.

He’d done this. He’d caused this. He’d killed Boz. This was all his fault. Kara and Boz’s kid wouldn’t even be able to hold an open casket funeral. He’d killed him. He’d f*cking done this–

William had done it. William had taken the body.

Boz had deserved it. It was Boz’s own fault.

William and his cousin took the body. William and Adam had appeared and Boz had disappeared.

Which meant…it meant…

Zeke’s run of never being actively sick at a crime scene came to an end. He barely got to the edge of the police tape before getting sick over the filth covered tunnel. He spit on the ground. Nothing else was coming out so why did it feel like he still couldn’t breathe? He couldn’t breathe-couldn’t breathe-couldn’t–

“It’s ok, Zeke. You’re doing ok. We’ll get through this together.”

Had William always been there? Had he simply appeared? Was his presence even real or was it all in Zeke’s mind as his brain fought between the ideas of ‘I did this’ and ‘Boz deserved it’. He didn’t know-didn’t know-didn’t–

Someone else came up. Zeke still wasn’t sure if William’s presence was real or not. He didn’t know where his voice was coming from. How he was managing to speak. But he did speak.

“Sorry, I…I know who the victim is. Detective Boswick.”

“sh*t!” The uniform turned away.

William smiled. He leaned in close so that only Zeke and he could hear him. “You’re doing great.”

Amanda didn’t know what Lawrence had planned for David. What he hoped to achieve once this was over and Hoffman was caught or killed. She didn’t know what the doctor had planned for her. If it would be as simple as a debt repaid or if her knowing about his involvement was too dangerous. She knew he wasn’t her friend, but she didn’t know if he was her enemy either.

She didn’t know where she stood with John anymore. Sometimes she felt like he wanted her to win and other times it felt like he expected her to fail but if he always knew she’d fail why do this to her? Why subject her to this life? Why put any faith in her?! Even false f*cking faith!?

It had all started simple. The urge to live. The want to live. The will.

But what was the point of her own game if all it had been was another replica? Another copy? Looking at David made her angry. It made her so incredibly sad she thought she might start crying. She’d tried to save his brother. She’d failed in that. Or maybe she’d succeeded. If Adam was still alive, maybe it didn’t matter what she’d tried to do on Lawrence’s behalf and to combat her own guilt. She felt like she was stuck with no hope of ever getting out. Never knowing if she’d ever get out.

David might be able to get out though. People didn’t change. People never f*cking changed! But maybe she could finally save a life. She felt like she’d never saved a life. She’d never done anything right. Not truly. But maybe in this she could have some penance for her soul. She could take the person that had felt like a mirror and have a different outcome. It felt like nothing would ever change for Amanda. Even with Hoffman being cornered and her secret being safe, she just couldn’t be what John wanted. She couldn’t be what he needed. But David could survive. David could have a different ending from her. He might not have changed but he wasn’t her and he wasn’t trapped like her. He could get out.

She was going to save him. She had to save him. Maybe if she saved him, it would feel like she’d save herself.

Chapter 18: Back to the Start

Chapter Text

Lawrence would only wait so long. He knew from the sudden news bulletin that David had sold the story and sold it well. That the police had listened and gone to the places David had given them. Locations David had never visited, but Lawrence had. Places Lawrence had watched and waited in. Places Hoffman thought secure even from John.

It would be over soon. There was an APB out on Hoffman. John would be caught. Lawrence would be free and could finally breathe. He could go and search for the thing he needed. That piece inside of him that had been missing for so long. He’d find Adam. Get answers. Maybe, hopefully, he’d finally be whole.

Lawrence waited.

David didn’t show, but that was fine. He’d been a tool. One that had finally completed its use. After a moment longer, Lawrence left.

How had it fallen apart so f*cking quickly!?

It was Riggs who let Mark catch wind of what was happening. The one who was always trying to save everyone. Who didn’t believe it. Who was afraid that Mark was being framed. The one Mark had planned to frame in order to partially protect his anonymity. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

Mark had known the FBI would get involved eventually. The police were making a right mess of the Jigsaw case. Sing dead. Tapp and Matthews missing, presumed dead. Kerry a f*cking wreck trying to keep this team together as her obsession with finding Matthews continued. He’d thought he’d have more time. To prepare. To plan. To figure out what FBI agents would be sent to their city. But they’d come early. Riggs had heard something about an anonymous tip. Information on the web that had gotten flagged by the FBI.

Who?! Who the f*ck was it!

It wouldn’t be Amanda. It couldn’t have been. She wouldn’t dare to do anything against him. Not with the knowledge he held over her head.

John didn’t make sense either. Jill? What did that bitch hope to gain? No, not her.

Then who–

The little sh*t. William Schenk.

Mark had slowly been trying to find a way to get rid of him. One that would protect his identity and even keep the young man’s death hidden from the world. Mark didn’t need to make a game of it. He just needed him gone. But it was too late for that. Mark had waited too long. The little sh*t had clearly been looking up what he could find on Mark just as Mark had been doing the same with him. There wasn’t time to create an extensive escape route. Mark would do damage control later. Try to figure a way out of this mess, if there even was one. His first order of business was to kill William Schenk. With the kid dead, then Mark would feel safe enough to handle everything else.

Before leaving, Mark went to see Eric Matthews. He unlocked the door. He didn’t bother in covering his face this time. It was impossible to tell if he was recognized or not. The once angry officer cried and screamed to be let go. To just die. Please dear god he just wanted this all to be over with and to die.

So much for his future planned roll. Mark Hoffman gave him his wish with a bullet between the eyes.

He torched the place. Went and torched his home. If he knew who else had the information on him, he would have killed them to. Would have taken down the entire f*cking department if it could help. But there wasn’t time for that. Schenk needed to die first. Then, whoever else he needed to get rid of would fall after.

Taking his car, he left the burning building behind and headed out of the city.

David left the station. They couldn’t hold him any longer despite clearly wanting to. It wasn’t like he was being charged for a crime after all. They did offer protection, but David shook his head. He just kept shaking his head again and again. That wasn’t part of the plan. That wasn’t what Lawrence wanted. He’d done what he was supposed to do. Just let him leave. Just let him please, please leave. He just wanted to see his brother again. That was what this was all for. He’d be with Adam again. Just let him leave!

They had his statement. Everything had been written down. Maybe recorded, though David wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what was happening. Didn’t know what the agents would find. Had already found. What the police would find. If Hoffman had already been put into custody or not. He didn’t know any of it. Just that he was supposed to go back to Lawrence. He’d go back to Lawrence and…and…

He’d get to see Adam. He just held onto that thought. It was the only thing he had keeping him going. He left the precinct. Shuffled down the street. No one looked at him. No one cared. It was almost over. He just needed to get to the meeting place–

He recognized the black and red hoodie. Large. Bulky. The barest hint of long, slightly uneven hair poking out around the edges. David tried to speak. He tried to say…something. Anything. He just…he needed…

Help…

Someone please…

Help…

A hand grabbed him. Dragged him along. He tried to remember what having his own agency was like. He tried to force his voice outward. He just needed someone else to look at him. To come to him. Please. Wouldn’t someone, just anyone… “H-Help–”

The hoarse, whispered word barely escaped his lips before he was yanked in a different direction. They went down an alley. Around the back of a dumpster. His back hit the wall with a hard thud. He barely managed another, “Help,” but it was too late. He couldn’t even bring himself to scream. Please, please, please–

“Shut up!”

He flinched back from Amanda’s face. Her hood was still up as she leaned in close. He could feel her breath on his cheek. He squeezed his eyes shut. The tears came instinctively. “P-Please–”

“I said shut up!”

David quickly did.

“You’re going to come with me and you’re not going to f*cking struggle. Do you understand me? You listen to what I say and you do what I f*cking say.”

But he was supposed to…he was supposed to–

“Hey! I’m trying to save your f*cking life here! So do you understand me or not, bitch?!”

David quickly shook his head. That didn’t make sense. “Lawrence–”

“What? Lawrence what?! What the f*ck is he going to do with you? Do you think he even cares about you?!”

“H-He kept me safe–”

“Safe from f*cking what?!” She grabbed his shirt and shook him. “Because last I remember, he was the one that kidnapped you, you stupid f*ck!”

No. No that wasn’t…it was true–no! David didn’t accept that. He couldn’t accept it. If Lawrence didn’t care, if David had really been a prisoner then that meant…it meant–

Why hadn’t he fought back harder?

Why believe everything coming out of Lawrence’s mouth?

Why had he let it happen again and again and again–

David started to cry only for Amanda to suddenly slap him across the face. He flinched away from her though barely any distance was gained with the brick wall at his back. He looked into her eyes. The majority of their interactions she’d been angry. Angry and deeply sad but mostly just angry. This was perhaps the first time David really got a chance to look past it. Past all the immediate emotions and facial ticks and–

Haunted.

It was the first word that came to mind. The best way that David could describe her and even himself. He felt haunted and numb and like any possibility at a future had been stripped from him. Like he no longer existed in time and space. Like his name had been stricken from the history books. At least figuratively speaking. That same feeling seemed to hide past Amanda’s harsh gaze. David’s voice shook as he asked, “Why would you save me?”

“Because it’s the closest thing I have to saving myself.”

Her words felt like truth. David almost didn’t want to believe her, but there was a sense of desperation there. Like she didn’t have time to waste around lies. It was just honesty and for the first time since knowing her, David felt what she had felt when they’d first met. How she’d looked at him, touched his scars, and had seen something familiar. David felt that now. He felt so lost and so f*cking confused. He could see that in her. The want to escape. To be free but not knowing what freedom meant anymore. David didn’t know what freedom was. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. What was right or wrong. He doubted Amanda knew either. But she wanted to save him. Whatever that meant. She wanted to–

Her face was so close and the hood so large, it blocked most of David’s view. By the time he processed what was coming closer, his warning was useless.

“Amanda!”

The needle went into her neck. She reached behind. Her fingers nearly grasped at the pig mask but failed. Her body fell into David’s. He instinctively tried to catch her. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know what the point was. He should be running. He should be fighting. He should be–

It was too late.

Tears slid down his already numbing face. His eyes slipped shut as he and Amanda both collapsed to the ground.

Amanda woke up to the taste of blood and metal.

For a split second, she wondered if time had even passed. Had it all been a bad dream? A bad dream that was now over as she woke up inside the nightmare again? Had she never left the nightmare? Maybe she’d never survived the trap and this was her hell–

The TV turned on with static and a loud, crackling noise. Tears fell down her face. She couldn’t properly scream even as she tried. She tried so f*cking hard as she whimpered around the metal piece hooked into her jaw.

Little red swirls and black eyes didn’t look back at her though. It wasn’t the puppet. This was different. She wasn’t stuck in time.

John stared at her on the poor quality tape. The tears fell harder. She thrashed harder around the straps that kept her to the cold, metal chair.

“Amanda, if you are watching this, then I am no longer in this world.”

What? No. No! He’d been-not fine. But he’d been… He was alive when she’d… This wasn’t right. No. Noooo!!!

“Despite my best efforts, all you have learned from me is how to take. Again and again you take while never giving. This is your final test. To truly meet death. Accept it, and finally give the gift of life. To prove to me that you know how to save a life. Or to die trying. Look around Amanda. You know the game. You know the rules. Do you think you can win it again?”

The tape suddenly ended. Amanda’s chest rose in rapid, uneven motions. Was he… Had John meant it? Was he… Was he truly…

f*ck him. f*ck him for everything! For destroying her f*cking life! She would have been better off if she’d f*cking ODed! She screamed as best she could as hot, wet tears continued to stream down her face. She looked around. There was the body on the floor. Of course there was a body on the floor. What the f*ck did he mean how to save a life!? From the very start he’d only shown her how to take! He’d only ever taught her how to kill! f*ck him!

When she’d been stuck in the trap, she’d moved without thinking. Panicked and desperate. This time, she ripped her limbs from the chair but didn’t stand up. One hand carefully came up. She felt the taut wire. The moment she moved forward, the timer would go off. She’d have a minute. Only this time she knew what to do. f*ck John. She hadn’t died the first time. She wasn’t going to f*cking die now!

She blinked away the tears. Breathed as clearly as she possibly could. A bit of blood slipped down her throat. She coughed against the metal. She could do this.

She could f*cking do this!

She pushed herself to her feet.

Snap!

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

She rushed forward. Her arm instinctively moved. Her fingers found the scalpel before her eyes did. She grabbed the hem of the shirt. Saw the black question mark painted on the man’s stomach.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

“...mmmhm…”

Her eyes flickered upwards. It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. She wasn’t going to bend over backwards and just f*cking die. Whoever this was, she didn’t care–

David stared back. Lips trembling as he tried to speak but couldn’t. The scalpel clattered to the ground.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t f*cking fair! They both knew what this trap would do. They both knew the outcome if Amanda didn’t start digging through his insides. She’d been trying to f*cking save him! The only reason she’d gone after David was to make him wake up and see he needed to just f*cking run. Only now she was back at square one and David was in the opposite position. He’d made the same choice she had all those months ago. He was the only one who would understand just how heavy a choice this was. He’d understand why she had to do what she had to do.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Right?

But what would come next? What would she do if John was truly gone? What f*cking life did she have after this?! The cops knew who she was. Everyone knew who she f*cking was! She’d given her life to John and now she no longer had a f*cking life! What was the point?! What was the f*cking point of any of this?!

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

She looked at David. A mirror of herself only his name wasn’t known. He wasn’t wanted. He hadn’t followed John’s word like God’s. She’d just wanted to save someone, and now here John was. Forcing her to kill again. Only she…she…

Her trembling hand moved. She didn’t grab the scalpel but instead David’s hand.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

His eyes began to widen in horror. He knew. He knew better than anyone what was about to happen. What had to happen should she choose not to get the key.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Maybe she was imagining it, but it felt like his hand was starting to grip her own. Tight and painful. Tears fell down his wide, terrified eyes. He didn’t want to die, but neither did he want to see her die. She could see it in his eyes. She almost thought to pull away. To spare him the gruesome end, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She didn’t want to die alone. She’d thought she’d found a father, a teacher, but she’d never felt more alone in her entire life. She’d always been alone in life. She didn’t want to be alone as she died too. She just didn’t want to be alone!

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

David’s hand tightened in hers. She was sure of it now. She tried to say it with her eyes. Despite how David could barely move, she begged. Please, please don’t leave me. He blinked. A large pool of fresh tears fell. His fingers twitched in her hand.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick!

A muffled scream escaped her lips. She closed her eyes. Her entire body jolted. Ready for the excruciating pain quickly followed by darkness. A low moan, the closest David could get to screaming, escaped his own lips. Her fingernails tore into David’s hand.

All that could be heard were the attempted cries from herself and David.

Her eyes blinked open.

The timer had stopped.

It was no longer counting down.

And she was still alive.

Wh-What?

This didn’t make any sense. Was it…had there been a mistake? A malfunction? No, that didn’t make sense. John didn’t make mistakes so why was she still alive?

Her head dropped forward from the heavy weight still strapped to her skull. She truly began to feel the ache in her neck. Inch by inch, she untangled her hands from David’s. Another moan left his lips. She pressed her finger to them. She tried to say it with her eyes. She wasn’t going to leave him. She wasn’t. But this? T-This had to be a trick. O-Or there was something else? She looked around the room again. She stood up. What was this? What the f*ck was this?! Why the hell wasn’t she dead?!

She moved to the chair. Her eyes quickly roamed over it. Besides the snapped straps, there was nothing of note. The TV maybe? She looked over it. She rewound the tape using the buttons on the TV. She pressed play again.

“Amanda, if you are watching this, then I am no longer in this world.”

Did he really mean that? Who had taken them? Hoffman? No, they’d already be dead if Hoffman knew who had ratted on him. So who…

The tape played out again. She didn’t understand. She was supposed to prove she knew how to save a life? What the f*ck did that mean–

“A…man…”

She quickly turned back to David. He was trying to get up. His limbs moved in sluggish motions though his tongue seemed to be farther behind. Drool fell from his lips as he tried to mumble out more. The only thing she could really hear was an attempt at her name. She moved back to his side. She let out a muffled noise. What? What was it?! Had he seen more than her?! What did he know?! Come on! Just talk! Talk!

“Po…c…”

What? What was he talking about? She watched him struggle until suddenly realizing he was trying to get into his front left pocket. She got back down on her knees. Her hand quickly went in and–

A key!

She almost expected it not to work. Yet once she found the hole, the small piece of metal fit perfectly. It clicked. In a rush, her jaw came away from the metal. The reverse bear trap hit the floor. She gasped. Instinctively screamed. David was crying more openly as the feeling continued to come back to him.

This didn’t make sense! What the f*ck–

A door opened. She flinched away. Her hands came up. Wiped at the saliva and bits of blood on the edge of her lips from where the metal had dug into her skin.

Once again, it was similar but not the same. A red tricycle didn’t creak forward. Instead, it was a man. A man she didn’t know. Didn’t recognize. His face was flat. Emotionless. It reminded her of Hoffman. He stepped forward and picked up the reverse bear trap. There was a familiarity with how he held it.

“Y…You…”

Amanda’s eyes quickly flickered to David. He knew him?! Who was he! “David, David who?” Amanda desperately whispered. She grabbed hold of David. Pulled him into a sitting position as he tried to speak clearly and choked on his own spit.

“Congratulations, Amanda,” the man said. “You finally saved a life.”

“What the f*ck do you mean I saved a life?” She tried to sound angry. She wanted to sound angry. She was just so tired though. Tired of all of this. Of living like this.

“You knew what would happen,” the man replied. “You both did. You knew it was you or David, and rather than saving yourself, you gave your life for him.”

She’d… John’s words on the tape came back to her. Then was this…was this how she’d been meant to win? What would have happened if she’d stabbed David open? Had there…there wasn’t even a key there. Was it? She would have killed him for nothing. But then what? What would have happened when the trap didn’t go off? What would this man have done if she’d failed? She was afraid to ask. And then David managed to get out a few more words.

“The…hospital…you…in…x-ray…department…”

This man had worked at the hospital?

“Yes. Dr. Gordon wasn’t John’s only secret.”

“Who are you?” hissed Amanda.

“A survivor of a game. Of John’s first game.” The man moved around the room. He collected other items. Took out the tape. His cold gaze moved over it for a long time before he dropped it on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his shoe.

“I…remember…”

Amanda’s eyes quickly went from David to the man. David’s eyes had gone wide again. His lips shook. It was more than simple recognition there.

“You…”

Amanda guessed. “You put David in his game.”

The man glanced over. “I did.”

A low sob left David’s lips. “Why…”

“John needed a test subject. He needed to make sure every piece worked as intended. He tasked me with providing those test subjects. Of creating a prototype to the game.”

“Why…me…”

The man’s eyes flickered to Amanda. There was disdain there. Maybe…maybe jealousy. “You were needed for a greater purpose.”

“But…why…”

“Why did I choose you?” questioned the man. He finally stopped what he was doing and looked to David again. “Because you didn’t care about anyone and no one really cared about you. So what if one of the janitors quit without notice? No one would care. No one did care. They barely even asked after you. I chose you because you were easy and no one would miss you.”

David started to cry harder. Amanda held him in an almost protective grip. Her throat ached as she tried to speak. “Then is John…”

Emotion actually broke into the man’s voice. He blinked. A singular tear rolled down his cheek. “Yes. One final game. The agents that came after him are being tested. Or…were tested. Then, I will make sure the last of John’s work is carried out so that he can finally, truly rest.”

Then John had known. He’d always known. Had Lawrence told him? Or had John instructed this man to follow the doctor as the doctor acted on his own?

“What the f*ck am I supposed to do?”

The man paused. He balanced everything in hand. He pulled an envelope out of his jacket. Moving towards them, David curled into Amanda. He hid his face against her chest. The envelope fell to the ground.

“John’s final wish.” He looked like he wanted to say more. To do more. He almost walked away but stopped again. That sense of jealousy came back onto his face. A hint of emotion flowing over those cold eyes. “I don’t know why it was always you and not me.”

And then he was gone.

Amanda thought of going after him. Thought of trying to ring more answers out of his f*cking neck. But she couldn’t bring herself to push David away as he desperately clung to her. She only pulled forward enough so she could grab the envelope. She ripped it open.

Having the words in writing rather than some tape or recording somehow felt more personal. Her eyes traveled over each word. More tears fell from her. Bubbles formed in her mouth and popped spit over her lips.

I always knew of your connection with Cecil.

No. No, no, no, no!!!

I wanted you to win. I wanted you to overcome your failings. I forgive you.

No. This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t f*cking fair! Even in death, John couldn’t make this easy on her. She couldn’t bring herself to simply hate him. Not when he admitted to knowing everything Hoffman had discovered. Not when he f*cking told her she was f*cking forgiven! It was like he’d taken his soul and stapled it to hers even in death! She’d never be rid of him! It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t f*cking fair!

“What…does it say?” whispered David.

“Nothing.” Everything. There was an added note at the end of the message. That part wasn’t for her, but it was clear she was meant to give it to the intended reader. She shoved the letter into her pocket.

“I…I was trying…I saw him. Put the key in…my pocket,” David forced out. “I tried to…warn you…”

“Shh. Shh,” whispered Amanda. “It’s ok. It’s ok.”

“I’m sorry.”

She didn’t know why David was apologizing. She just held him. Rubbed at his hands and arms as the feeling slowly continued to come back. She wondered if the man would return. If maybe this wasn’t it. There was another step to this game. Another trap. When she pulled David to his feet and moved him to the door, she wondered if it would even open. But it did. She sat him down in the open air. Brushed his hair back. “Where can I take you?”

David swallowed. “I need…I need to get to my brother.”

“The doctor will be headed that way.”

“I know,” whispered David.

“Do you want to find Adam for yourself, or because you think you have to do it for Lawrence?”

“I don’t know. I just…I want to be gone. I want…I want this to be over. To just finally be over.”

Amanda understood that feeling. She wanted this to just be f*cking over with. And maybe it was for her. She could leave David here. Walk away. Disappear and do…something. But she’d chosen to save him. She had saved him, despite everything. She had to see this through. She had to try and undo some of the damage she had caused by enabling the doctor.

“Then we’ll find Adam. Together.”

“Thank you.”

Her lip trembled. No one had ever thanked her before. Not for anything. She pulled David to his feet. They clung to each other tightly. Walking away as winners of a game that would forever haunt them.

Chapter 19: Acceptance in Bloodshed

Chapter Text

Zeke was breaking. That much was obvious. The key was just in how he would finally snap. Most assumed his distracted mental state was because he’d found his friend brutally torn apart by a subway train. That was certainly part of it, but it wasn’t the real reason Zeke was barely hanging on by a thread.

Adam was warry. Understandably so. He’d been trying to tell William that he needed to be ready for anything. Even if that meant getting rid of Zeke.

William wouldn’t hear of it though. Zeke would understand. It would just take time. Was taking time. Sometimes Zeke managed ok. If someone wasn’t paying close enough attention, they even thought he was fine. He was faking it though. Every word. Every motion. Every reaction. It all came at a slightly slower speed. His quick wit hit after an extra pause. A smile or scowl formed a second too late. When William and Zeke got home though, that was when the layers fell away. There would be no attempt to pretend and Zeke was just…

Empty.

At one point, William found Zeke standing in the kitchen. It was the middle of the night. His arms were crossed. Face blank. Just staring at the spot on the floor where Boz had died. William took his hand and gently dragged him back to bed. Then came a different night. William woke to the cold feeling of a metal barrel pressed to his skull.

“You did it. You killed Fitch.” The voice was so f*cking angry. But it was like Zeke didn’t know what he was supposed to be angry at. With William. With himself. Each noise wavered on his tongue. “You made Drury disappear. You killed them all.”

William’s lips twitched into a smile. “Not Boz. Which is really a shame. I had plans for him. I would have liked to actually test his conviction. You got to him before I could.”

He’d taken the gun from Zeke’s shaking hands. Kissed the tears away. He hadn’t told Adam about that moment. He would have worried even more and he was worried enough as it was. Besides, he had his brother to think of. William wasn’t going to put more on his plate as he planned for the upcoming visit. William had this figured out. It was just taking a little extra time. That was all. Sure, Zeke shut down the moment he was alone or alone with William. But William could drag Zeke back to the surface. He would.

The news was all over the death of John Kramer when it happened. It was mentioned at work plenty of times. How his body had been found by two FBI agents who’d barely escaped with their lives. What his death could mean for their copycat and if there still was a connection or not.

William should have focused on it more. Focused on the fact that Mark Hoffman was missing. But the noise of everything else was drowned out by the need and concern to take care of Zeke.

“I want to tell you my real name,” whispered William one late night. “It’s Emmerson. You told the truth about my father’s death. You saved my life.”

Zeke didn’t really react. But he did move his finger. His pointer finger. Right to his lips.

“Yes. Yes! I knew you remembered.”

Zeke spoke for the first time to William since holding a gun to his head. “So why Fitch?”

“What? You’d think I’d do Pete first?” murmured William. “Besides the fact he’s still in prison, this isn’t just about revenge. The system is rotten. You know that better than anyone. I’m going to change it. You’re going to help me change it.” William’s hand moved over the scar on Zeke’s stomach. His fingers gently traced the uneven skin. “Though I won’t lie, I did want to test Fitch first after finding out you got shot because of him.”

It was ok. It would be ok. William had him. He’d help him. Zeke was his partner. He’d understand–

William stuck closer to Zeke than he had in the past. Not because he was afraid of Zeke ratting him out or because he didn’t trust him. No, nothing like that. But Zeke wasn’t in his right mind. William didn’t want him to get hurt. Especially when no one else could properly look after him. But with their schedules and William not actually being Zeke’s partner, there was only so much he could do. He tried to stick around the station when he was off but Zeke wasn’t. He tried to drive Zeke wherever possible. Anything to simply make sure he was ok. The one person at work who pretended to care about Zeke was beginning to intervene though.

The captain tried to frame it in a way of, “I know you care about Zeke, but maybe he needs space more than anything right now?”

God, William wanted to wring her neck right f*cking then. He forced himself to swallow the bile in his throat. To smile and agree that maybe she was right. He was pretty sure she later changed his hours on purpose. Normally Zeke got off later, but this time William had the late shift. Zeke didn’t stick around for him. He left immediately. William had to keep from bolting to his car the moment he was no longer on duty. He had to hurry. To get back to Zeke’s side. To–

He didn’t see Zeke’s car when he got to his apartment.

Maybe…maybe he’d just parked elsewhere.

William hurried inside and–

At first, it didn’t seem like anything was amiss. Zeke wasn’t there, but it wasn’t like his personal items that had slowly collected around the apartment had just disappeared. The entire place looked just the same. Right down to where Zeke had left his coffee cup this morning. So then where–

A folded piece of paper.

William snatched it up. His eyes flashed over each word.

If he simply slowed down, if he just thought for a second, then maybe he’d realize the writing didn’t sound like Zeke. Even if the address was something that would have only been important to them, it just wasn’t the same words or patterns that Zeke would have used. William should have noted it was odd the effort had been made to print it out rather than just grabbing a sheet of paper and scribbling the short message down. He did try to call Zeke, but the older man’s phone was off. William should have tried to think things through but…

He was worried. It was Zeke. He couldn’t help himself with Zeke and the fear that he might have pushed the man just a little too far, the doubt in himself that he might have gone too fast, it overwhelmed everything else. William didn’t bother to change out of his uniform. He left his cap where he’d placed it, picked up his keys and the piece of paper. He didn’t have to look up directions to the address. He knew exactly where it was.

Zeke looked at the paint shop.

Only it didn’t sell paints and train miniatures anymore. It was a butcher shop. Had been for a while now. Was that symbolic? It felt symbolic. Zeke hadn’t butchered Boz, but he had killed him and Boz had been butchered as a result.

Why hadn’t he gone to the police? Why hadn’t he stopped William? Why hadn’t he called Angie?

He’d been in shock! He’d needed to process it! Process all of it! He’d just needed a f*cking second to think and William had refused to give that to him!

Why hadn’t he called anyone now? Talked to Angie? Talked to O’Brien who was in charge of the case?

Who would have believed him?

They’d all seen how the friendship between himself and Boz had fallen apart. Maybe Angie would believe it was an accident, but what about the rest? Would they have ever thought Zeke hadn’t meant it? Or would they use it as an excuse to get rid of Zeke once and for all regardless of what they thought?

What was he talking about? His life didn’t matter! He was living with a serial killer! He was sleeping with a serial killer! He had to tell…someone…just…

If he turned William in, who would he have left? That wasn’t his voice. At least, he tried to tell himself it wasn’t his voice. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to f*cking function anymore–

“Hey, we’re uh…about to close up.” A man from inside poked his head out. “Just saw you standing there um…if you need anything you better come in now.”

Zeke shook his head. “Sorry. Just…thinking…”

He left after that. Ended up driving by Marcus’ place. He almost thought to go in and…

And what? Maybe even Marcus wouldn’t believe Zeke when Zeke said it was an accident. What proof did he have? As far as the police were concerned, Boz had died in a trap. How was Zeke supposed to just say actually, no, I shoved him, snapped his neck, broke the back of his skull, and then allowed the guy I’m sleeping with to mutilate the body to hide the true cause of death. Why the f*ck would anyone believe him?! They’d probably just assume he’d snapped! Maybe he had snapped because he had no idea what the f*ck he was supposed to do anymore.

With no other options, at least in Zeke’s mind, he drove back to the apartment.

William wasn’t there. He should be off by now.

Zeke didn’t know what that meant. What was Zeke supposed to do? His eyes found the spot on the ground. It didn’t matter that Boz wasn’t physically there. That a stain hadn’t remained. Zeke still saw him. Could remember the exact moment the life had left his eyes. The way his blood had begun to pool around the back of his head.

He felt numb. Any time he breathed in, his chest rose a fraction off beat. Each time he moved his limbs, he felt like throwing up. Nothing but pins and needles and the overwhelming sense that he was lost. Lost without William. A murderer. A serial killer. The copycat. A kid. The kid who’d lost everything because of one bad cop. When had William snapped? Had it been right as Pete fired the bullet that killed his father? Had it come after?

Could Zeke even blame William?

Of course he could! He should! He was putting people in god damn torture devices! Acting like he was god! It was f*cked up! It was so incredibly f*cking wrong!

So why hadn’t Zeke stopped it? Why was he still here? Back in the apartment. Stuck in some awful loop. Unable to bring himself to tell anyone. Unable to pull the trigger on William. Unsure of what he was meant to do next. So f*cking lost without guidance from a f*cking serial killer–

A hard hit to the back of his head snapped Zeke out of his spiraling thoughts. He turned around. It wasn’t William.

Adam regretted not talking with David longer. He’d unfortunately been a bit busy, his phone shoved between his ear and shoulder as he rigged Boz’s body up before the next subway train came. It was admittedly a good idea. The body would be so mangled the real cause of death would be hidden. Adam hoped the police wouldn’t be able to tell the trap wasn’t fully realized either. The parts would be strewn about everywhere and whoever was at the front of the train hopefully wouldn’t be able to tell Boz was already dead before the train hit him.

Of course, the body was only part of the problem. Adam’s real concern was Ezekiel Banks. William kept saying he had things under control, but Adam knew the younger man’s judgment wasn’t the best when Zeke was involved. It wasn’t that Adam wanted to kill Zeke. The man didn’t deserve it. Not like Fitch or Drury. But neither did Adam want the police looking at him. Zeke knowing was a danger to both Adam and William. Even if William didn’t want to acknowledge it. Adam had been checking in on William every day. Usually just a call. But he had to make sure Zeke hadn’t snapped and murdered William in his sleep–

William wasn’t answering.

Adam knew his schedule. He should have access to his phone. William wouldn’t ignore the call on purpose. Even if he thought Adam was overreacting, he didn’t want to cause Adam more stress. Adam tried again.

Still no answer.

He didn’t bother waiting for a third call to go through. He made his way to William’s apartment. Took the spare key William had given him. He unlocked the door.

Zeke was standing there. Staring at the spot where Boz had died. If Adam didn’t know any better, he’d think Zeke hadn’t moved from that spot in the last six days. Adam’s eyes quickly flickered around. It didn’t look like a struggle had occurred. There wasn’t a bloody streak across the floor leading to the bedroom or behind the couch.

“Zeke?”

The man didn’t react. Did he even realize Adam was there?

“Zeke?” When he still didn’t respond, even after Adam closed the door, Adam struck him on the back of the head. He turned. Looked as lost and as numb as Adam had last seen him while Boz bled out on the ground. “Where’s William?”

“I don’t…”

“Did you do something to him?”

Zeke’s brow furrowed. He looked like a man who’d been woken from a long sleep. “What are you talking about?”

Adam hit him again. Not just a knock this time. A hard slap across Zeke’s face that finally had the older man reacting. He flinched. Jerked backwards as he held his cheek. Adam grabbed Zeke by his shirt. He pulled him forward. “What did you do with William?!”

“Nothing! What can I do?! What the f*ck am I supposed to do!”

sh*t. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“At work–”

Adam shook him again. He could see it in Zeke’s face. How he was trying to fall back into himself. “No. No! I need you f*cking present. Ok?” Adam let go. He pulled his phone out again. Called William–

Still nothing.

“Did he call you?”

Zeke frowned. He took his phone out. Adam watched as Zeke turned it on. A missed call came through. Zeke called him back. Still no answer.

It could be nothing. It could all be fine. Just a misunderstanding. And yet…

Something tugged in the pit of Adam’s stomach. Something full of worry and fear that kept telling him something wasn’t right. “He should be answering. f*ck. f*ck! Is anything different?”

“What do you mean different?”

“You’re a detective. Detect! What’s changed? Do you think William even came home?”

Zeke was silent for a moment. His gaze moved over the apartment– “What is this?”

“This is me asking for some f*cking help. Something isn’t f*cking right and I need you to help me find him. His phone isn’t off but he’s not responding. He shouldn’t be at work right now. He called you for some reason. Why would he call you?”

“I don’t know–”

“Then help me figure it out!”

Adam spun in a circle. He tried to think if anything was standing out to him but it wasn’t like he lived here. Was something out of place? Anything broken and missing? When Zeke still wasn’t moving, Adam turned on him again.

“Help!”

“Why should I?”

“Maybe because I’ll f*cking kill you if you don’t!”

Zeke shrugged. “Fine then.”

Adam clenched his fists. God damn it. How was he supposed to get this f*cking shell of a man to actually react? He needed to change tactics. “Are you really going to let William down? When he might be in trouble?”

Zeke squeezed his eyes shut. He rubbed at his forehead. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing f*cking matters–”

“It matters to William. You matter to William.”

“He destroyed my life–”

“He saved it! Need I f*cking remind you that it was you who killed Detective Boswick? Where would you be without William? In a jail cell with manslaughter charges at best? Second degree murder or even first degree thrown at you at worst? Your f*cking department sure as sh*t wouldn’t have backed you up. William backed you. William protected you. Now it’s your turn to pay him back. Look around. What is off here?”

Zeke groaned into his hands. He looked like he was struggling with a migraine. “I don’t know–”

“You have to know something! William should have responded. He should be picking up. When did you get off work?”

“Before him. But I just…I needed to try and clear my head–”

“So William might have come here before you came home. Right?” God, Adam could see it now. William panicking because Zeke wasn’t home and his phone was off. That would explain why William wasn’t here now, but why wasn’t he answering his phone? “Try calling him again.”

Zeke slowly did. Adam waited with bated breath–

Still nothing.

“Ok. We need to figure out where he could have gone. There must be something in here.”

Zeke started to look around again. He moved like a man just waking up. Adam had no idea what was going on in his head. He felt on edge as he tried not to rush Zeke.

“He left his hat.”

Adam’s eyes quickly found the police cap. Ok. That was…well. Not good. But it did confirm William had been here after work. Now what?

Zeke walked around the apartment. Nothing seemed to catch his eye in the kitchen. He moved back into the living room. Looked at the TV. Then the…

“The printer is on.”

Adam leaned over. “Is that not normal?”

“Not when it isn’t in use.” Zeke moved to the computer.

Adam leaned over his shoulder. He watched Zeke turn it on. There was a word document still open. Pulling it up revealed a short message. A message from Zeke.

“You didn’t write this. Did you?”

“No.”

f*ck! Adam remembered when William had gotten stabbed by Eleanor. How Adam had told him he’d better not be keeping any more secrets. William had said he wasn’t and Adam had stupidly believed him. What the hell had William been keeping from him? Who was after William? Who knew and knew enough to know that leaving a message as Zeke would cause William to react without thinking? Was it Eleanor? Would she go to these lengths to try and rid herself of the threat William had over her? Adam didn’t actually know the woman. Had never met her. Going by what William had said, she was as insane as him. By William’s own words, it was doubtful she’d do anything, but maybe that was William’s own psyche twisting her into what he wanted? Maybe she wasn’t how William had described at all? But still, why not just call the police then? Why get William out of his apartment and lead him to this address? The spot and directions weren’t familiar to Adam. Had they been familiar to William? He couldn’t be sure.

Adam grabbed Zeke’s shoulder. “We need to hurry. There’s no telling what kind of trouble he’s in now.”

Zeke didn’t move.

“Don’t make me have to f*cking drag you!”

“Keys are on the table. You go,” whispered Zeke.

Maybe Adam should. The older man was unpredictable. Adam had no idea if Zeke was really on their side or not. He could turn on them. Just break down. Maybe freeze and make the situation worse. But he was also a cop. He had training. He knew how to use a gun. He knew how to handle himself in a fight. Adam didn’t have that. If he was being honest, depending on the kind of trouble William had found himself in, Adam might not be able to help him at all.

Pushing the chair back so Zeke was turned and looking at him, Adam said, “Even if you hate him, even if you think he deserves to die for what he’s done, are you really going to let someone else take that away from you? Are you going to sit here and do nothing?”

Zeke stared into empty space–

Adam jolted back as the man suddenly stood. “I know where this is. I can get us there in under twenty minutes.”

Stepping out of his way, Adam quickly moved in behind him. Would he have to save William from Zeke after he and Zeke saved William from whatever this was? It was hard to say, but Adam didn’t regret his decision. At least he had backup right now. He could worry about the outcome later.

Getting into Zeke’s car, Adam once again tried to figure out who this could be. There weren’t many people William had ever mentioned. Even fewer who mattered to him or played an active role in his life. It was unlikely to be Eleanor behind this. It wouldn’t be anyone from the police department. There would have been cop cars at William’s apartment. Not a cryptic note written on a computer. Who else potentially knew…

Zeke’s radio was on. He didn’t seem to notice it as the music petered off and was replaced with the host of the station. Adam almost switched it off when the guy started talking about a news story. The one on John Kramer. Adam had heard of it. Everyone by now had probably heard about it. Sadly, Adam had been pretty damn busy with handling Boz’s body, looking out for William, and preparing for David’s arrival to really process the news. To think about how it made him feel. The man that had caused him so much torment. So much f*cking pain. Had ruined his life.

He was gone. Kramer was gone–

“The person believed to have been helping Amanda Young and John Kramer, Detective Mark Hoffman, is still unaccounted for.”

Wait.

Could it…

No.

Maybe?

Adam tried to recall when he and William had first met. He remembered William explaining how he’d found Adam. He’d tracked people down. Done his own form of detective work. He’d discovered Jigsaw was John Kramer before the public knew thanks to some loose lipped cops. He’d known about Amanda Young. Had mentioned her by name. Had said he’d followed others though. Multiple people before he’d found the bathroom that Adam had nearly died inside.

Had William already known about Mark Hoffman as well?

Zeke must have noticed a change in Adam’s demeanor as he whispered, “Hoffman visited our department a while back.”

“What? Seriously?”

Zeke nodded. “About the…copycat. I didn’t speak to him. Wasn’t there when he showed up. Heard that he couldn’t give O’Brien much. Just confirmed it had nothing to do with John Kramer or Amanda Young.”

“Did William talk to him? Interact with him?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

“No. Of course he f*cking wouldn’t,” Adam sighed as sarcasm dripped from his voice. “Why would he ever mention he’d been chatting with a fellow serial killer? That couldn’t possibly be important. Could it?”

Zeke instinctively laughed. It wasn’t particularly humorous, but it was more emotion than Zeke had been giving.

“I swear to god if it is Hoffman…f*ck, William!” Adam shook his head. It would be just like William to keep some huge reveal like this all to himself. Adam muttered under his breath. “You’re too f*cking smart for your own good.”

“He is.”

Once again, Zeke spoke softly. A lot softer than he had in their past interactions. Adam gave a slight nod. He hesitantly glanced over when it sounded like Zeke was going to say more.

“You helped him kill Fitch and Drury.”

Adam quickly looked away. He didn’t say anything.

“Trying to argue plausible deniability?” asked Zeke. “I saw you with Boz. I know you helped take care of the body.”

“No offense, Detective Banks, but you haven’t been in your right mind for some time. Who’s to say what you saw?”

A real laugh left Zeke’s lips. It sounded more off putting. The cadence just slightly wrong. “Am I dreaming?”

“That would be the easier answer,” sighed Adam. He rubbed at his brow. Ran his fingers through his hair. “I wondered for a long time if any of this was real.”

“What do you gain?”

Adam quickly turned silent again.

“I just…I need to understand. William said he’s trying to change things. Change the system. Is that your f*cking reason? Being a good f*cking samaritan?”

He still didn’t know where Zeke’s head was at. He needed to be careful with what he said. What he did. And yet… “It’s nice, not being alone. Feeling like you hold…any real power,” admitted Adam. He paused. Just a little push. A slight push. “Don’t you feel less alone?”

Zeke shuddered. “For better or worse.” His throat bobbed. “We’re almost there.”

“Does the location hold any significance for you?”

“I don’t think so. Does it for William?”

“Not that I know of.” There was always a chance William still wasn’t telling Adam everything. He obviously wasn’t telling him everything considering their current predicament. Adam just doubted the location was important. More than likely Hoffman, or whoever this was, had simply chosen it because it would give them privacy. They pulled up to a set of abandoned apartments. Adam didn’t immediately see William’s car. A fence and sign warned the place was to be demolished, though the supposed date of demolition had passed. The construction equipment sat unused. Maybe something had happened to push off the planned destruction.

Zeke got out–

Something in his face changed.

Adam jumped out of the car. He tried to understand what the hell Zeke was seeing. “What? What the f*ck is this place?”

“It was the apartment.”

“What apartment?”

“Where he lived. Where my partner shot Charlie Emmerson.”

“He told you!” sh*t, William hadn’t mentioned that. It must have happened recently.

Zeke nodded. “Yeah. He did.”

Adam wondered if that was a good or bad thing in this moment. More importantly though, who would know of this address besides William and Zeke? Who else would find this address important? Probably Pete Dunleavy, but he was still in jail. Hoffman had been an officer. Could he have gotten access? Made the connection between Schenk and Emmerson? Read the case file? Took note of the address? If not Hoffman, then who?

Adam looked to Zeke as the man pulled out his gun. He pushed open the fence. The loose chain that should have been locked fell to the ground. The man was moving on instinct. Adam could see it in his stance and shoulders. Adam had the very stupid thought of ‘he looks like a cop on TV’. He almost said it out loud but just barely managed to hold his tongue. Should Adam be tip-toeing? He felt like he should be tip-toeing.

Zeke shoved the front door open. As it hit the wall, he checked left and right before suddenly pulling back. Adam couldn’t read his face. The man was simply acting on his training and repetition. There was still no telling what was going on in his head. Adam was starting to regret including Zeke on this. If the man snapped, Adam might only get one shot at taking care of him before he was able to regain the upper hand.

Adam got up behind Zeke just as the man quickly moved into the space. The walls were barren. Old graffiti. Scattered trash and paper. Lighter spots peppered the dirty walls where objects must have hung. Maybe a picture. A cabinet. One long section might have once been mailboxes or something. Zeke checked what might have been a front office once. A quick look in before pulling back. Then a second, more detailed look after assessing there wasn’t an immediate threat.

“Where do you think–”

“Shh!”

Adam quickly shut up. Zeke moved out of the former office and towards the stairs. He tested each step before putting his full weight on it. Adam winced whenever he heard a creek. He tried to step exactly where Zeke had stepped. Though he checked each open hall, he didn’t stop to look through every room. There hadn’t been an apartment number in the address, yet it was clear Zeke knew what floor to go to. Was it the old apartment? The one William had grown up in?

Maybe there was no secret person behind this. Maybe this was some elaborate plan by William. A sick date idea. Even for William though, this would be a bit too far. It had to be someone else. Just why hadn’t William been honest?! Why had he f*cking kept it from Adam?!

Zeke finally stopped ascending the stairs. He moved down the desolate hallway. A few rooms were missing their doors. A couple more were open. Zeke made sure to check inside the open ones, but he didn’t actively stop until he came to an apartment in the middle of the hallway. The door was ajar. The number missing, not that Zeke needed it.

At the last second, Adam froze. He didn’t follow Zeke as he threw open the door and disappeared under the mantel. “Freeze!”

f*ck, f*ck, f*ck! What did Zeke see?! What was happening?! A straight up fire fight didn’t happen. Instead, a voice spoke that Adam had never heard before. Was it the third man? The one who’d helped John Kramer? Someone else? Adam had no f*cking clue as he pressed his back to the wall and listened in.

“You’re earlier than I expected.”

“What the f*ck does that mean? Who the f*ck are you?!”

“I’m sure you’ve read my name in the paper by now.”

So it was Hoffman? Maybe? Did he know Adam was here? Hopefully Zeke hadn’t given anything away like looking behind himself or expecting Adam to be at his side.

“How the f*ck do you know about this place?”

“I’ve done my research. While the kid was looking into me, I was looking into him.”

The kid-William? Was William still alive? Adam couldn’t hear another voice other than Zeke and the other man. Was he even in the same room as them? Or was he already dead? The body dumped elsewhere. Adam desperately wanted to inch over and peek inside, but he didn’t risk it.

“That was sloppy. Not deleting the document.”

“It did what it was meant to. It got you here.”

Why? Why did this guy also want Zeke here? Despite not directly saying William’s name, there was a clear irritation and hatred in his voice when he talked around him. Did the implication of William looking into him mean William was partially at fault for the reveal that Hoffman had been working with Jigsaw?

“And why the hell do you want me here too?”

“I’ve watched you both the past two days. Schenk ruined my life. He’s ruined yours. But there’s a way out of this.”

Did the guy mean that? No. No way! More likely he was going to kill Zeke too. Maybe stage some sh*t. Zeke had to know that. Or…or maybe he didn’t care. Or maybe the guy was being honest and the offer was real. Maybe…f*ck. Maybe Zeke would take it. Zeke would suddenly mention there was a guy standing outside the door. Adam would barely have time to run before Zeke turned the corner and probably shot him in the back. f*ck! Should he have gone in with Zeke? Would that have helped things? Made them worse?

“What the f*ck you mean a way out?”

“We both know Schenk’s the copycat. What’s to say he didn’t work with John Kramer as well?”

“You told O’Brien there wasn’t a connection.”

So this was f*cking Hoffman. f*ck! What the f*ck did he do to William?

“Maybe I was mistaken. Maybe I lied to protect myself because Schenk was threatening to pin it on me.”

“I’ve seen the reports. It looks like you ran and covered your tracks.”

“Maybe. It’s easier to sway the story than you’d think.”

“And what the f*ck do I get out of this?”

“Freedom. I don’t know what he has on you, but even from afar I could tell there’s something there. You’re afraid of him. With him dead, you wouldn’t have to worry about that again.”

No, with William and Adam dead, Zeke would be free. If Zeke took the offer, that meant Adam would have to die too. Zeke wouldn’t take the offer. Right? It probably wasn’t even real. Zeke had to see that. Right? Please, he had to f*cking see that!

“And what do I have to do?”

Zeke was faking it. He had to be faking it. Did it even matter? Was William even alive? Adam still hadn’t heard anything to suggest that William was even in the same room.

“For a start, drop your weapon.”

Silence.

“How can we trust each other when you’re the one pointing the gun at me?”

Adam’s heart leapt into his throat the moment he heard the gun hit the ground.

“Kick it away.”

Adam heard the sound of Zeke kicking it–

Kicking it backwards. Back into the hall. Adam watched the gun slide into view. Did Zeke–

The sudden, deafening sound of a gunshot had Adam reacting. There was a noise like a bullet passing through drywall, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t passed through Zeke as well. Adam’s hands wrapped themselves around the pistol. He turned into the open apartment. He fired high. Higher than either man was and into glass. The window shattered. It broke both men apart just long enough for Zeke to gain the advantage.

Adam scrambled to his feet. His hands shook as he tried to follow the movement of the two men. Fingers tearing like claws. Fists flying. The apartment was sparse. No furniture could be seen, but the counter top was broken. Zeke’s body was slammed into it. He reached behind. Grabbed a loose piece. He slammed it into the other man’s head. It splintered and broke. There was a split second where Adam had a clear shot of the other man’s back.

He didn’t take it. What if the bullet went straight through and hit Zeke? Could that even happen? Adam sure as sh*t didn’t know!

The pair moved out of Adam’s line of sight. He quickly advanced into the apartment. He could see a body out of the corner of his eyes, but his gaze was quickly pulled back towards the fight. An old, disused oven was open. Zeke fell over it. The door broke under his weight. The other man got in several good strikes to Zeke’s face just before Zeke kicked. His foot connected with the man’s knee. The man’s joint snapped in the opposite direction. He crumbled with a rage filled scream. Zeke grabbed a piece of the oven. A curved handle that had snapped off. He brought it up and slammed the edge of it into the man’s face. Sharp plastic snapped off and stuck in skin. Metal cracked bone. Up. Then down. Up. Then down again. The face caved inward. An eye popped. Blood spattered across Zeke’s hands.

“Try to f*ck with me again! Try, you motherf*cker!” The piece of the oven was thrown across the floor. Zeke yelled. Screamed in the man’s face.

Hoffman’s face? Was John Kramer’s secret apprentice really dead? Adam didn’t know. He’d never seen the man. Not that he would have been able to recognize him now with his face caved in how it was. Blood bubbled up. Zeke’s almost righteous shouting turned closer to a pained wail as he bent forward. Besides the damage the two men had just caused each other, Zeke had also been shot. Adam could see the blood spilling from his side. Despite it, Zeke pushed himself over the body. He rushed across the room–

Adam’s eyes finally turned back to the body he’d seen out of the corner of his eyes.

The gun clattered to the ground. Zeke, bloody and bruised, grabbed hold of William. Now Adam felt like the one numb and distant. Like he didn’t know reality from his own mind.

It couldn’t be…

It wasn’t…

After everything William had done for him…

Everything he’d done for William…

The stupid kid…

Why hadn’t he just trusted Adam…

“Don’t just f*cking stand there! Get out your phone and get a f*cking ambulance here!”

Adam blinked in shock. He realized Zeke wasn’t just holding William. He was propping him up. Covering the wound in his neck with his hands. Was he actually alive–

“Adam!”

“R-Right! R-Right!” Adam pulled out his phone. He misdialed. Had to try again. When he gave the address, Zeke had to correct him twice. Once Adam knew they were on the way, he put the phone on speaker and came in close. The person over the phone gave quick, concise information that combined with what Zeke seemed to already know. Adam followed the instructions. He tried to help more than hinder.

He looked at Zeke’s face. Something in the older man had finally broken. Completely and utterly. Like attacking Hoffman had been the final straw. A desire to live no matter how disastrous his own life was. Adam had no idea what was going to happen next. He didn’t know how the f*ck any of them would get out of this. The only thing Adam did know was that if William lived to see tomorrow, he’d be real f*cking disappointed he was unconscious as Zeke worked to save his life.

With a few polite words and a careful lie, Lawrence used the landlord’s spare key to get into Adam’s apartment. It was hard to say if it was the cane and obvious limp or his lie that did more of the work. Either way, he wasn’t seen as a threat. The landlord didn’t care enough to ask questions or better protect his tenant’s privacy. Lawrence closed the door behind him. He looked around–

“Meow.”

He looked down to find a plump, black and white cat. “And what’s your name?” murmured Lawrence. He carefully bent over and scratched the animal’s head. A quick look around showed an empty food bowl and a completely dry water bowl. Adam hadn’t been home in a while. He’d at least not fed the cat this morning and last night. Had he figured out Lawrence was coming? Had he left? No, that was ridiculous. Though sparse, Adam’s belongings were still everywhere. A look in the fridge showed that it was full. Adam must have just stayed the night somewhere else. Considering the cat was hungry now but didn’t look starved, Adam would likely come back soon. Maybe something important had simply come up, causing him to momentarily forget the furry feline.

Lawrence moved around the apartment with a careful eye. It wasn’t much, but it was clearly lived in. Adam had been here a while. Lawrence looked through the cabinets. He found the cat food. After feeding the cat, he explored the rest of the apartment. There was a dark room. Nothing was actively being worked on but there were some developed photos. Subjects unaware that their photo was being taken at all. So, Adam was right back at square one. Doing what had led to John putting him in the game in the first place. Lawrence didn’t know how to feel about that. In some ways, he felt envious. That Adam could just start over.

No. That thought was ridiculous. Perhaps his job was the same, but that didn’t mean Adam had simply started over. It didn’t mean he’d moved on and forced himself to forget.

At least, Lawrence hoped he hadn’t forgotten. What a sad twist of irony that would be. To have done all he had. Come all this way. Just to realize that it was only he that was trapped in the past. Trapped in a hell of his own making.

Lawrence moved to the bedroom. He continued to explore. Continued to try and understand where Adam was at in his life. He didn’t remember Adam mentioning animals before. The presence of the cat showed at least some things had changed. Did the animal make Adam feel a little less lonely? Maybe Lawrence should have gotten a pet. It was a stupid and ridiculous assumption. That taking care of an animal would have fixed everything wrong in his mind. It was a nice thought though. No matter how stupid it was.

He was certain he’d explored everywhere when the cat followed him into the bedroom. It started to scratch at the dresser. Their claw marks were already carved into the dresser’s side. It must have been a favorite spot for the little animal.

Watching the cat for a moment, Lawrence’s eyes slowly moved to a set of scratches on the floor. Slight impressions that were wider and not as deep as the cat’s claw marks.

That was interesting.

It could be nothing, but Lawrence still propped his cane against the wall. He pushed the dresser in the same direction as the marks on the floor. The cat jumped away. Up and onto the bed, it co*cked its head to the side. Looked at Lawrence with clear curiosity. Lawrence ignored the animal’s gaze. He stared at the space that had been covered up by the dresser. A section of the wall was loose. Lawrence pried it open with his fingertips. Bits of drywall turned his hands white. A hidden space was revealed. There was plenty piled up in the wall. Photos of more people. They didn’t seem any different than the photos in the dark room, but they must have been to warrant hiding them. There were mechanical tools as well. They didn’t strike Lawrence as belonging to Adam. And–

Lawrence flipped a large coat to the side. He grabbed what felt like leather. He pulled it out and found himself staring at a familiar pig mask. It wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be the same one. But it had clearly been crafted to look like it. Lawrence hadn’t been sure what would await him when he arrived at Adam’s apartment, but it certainly wasn’t this.

As Lawrence examined the mask, the little cat came back to his side. It hopped up into the hiding place in the wall and curled up on top of the evidence.

Chapter 20: Holding On

Chapter Text

When William returned to a sense of consciousness, his first thoughts were about Zeke. About where he was. If he was ok. If he was alive. Had he found William? Was he here? Had Hoffman killed him? Had he gotten to him? Did Zeke even care? Would he come? He had to. He had to at least try. Where was he? Where was Zeke?

The feeling of rough sheets against his skin came first. Then the light against the back of his eyelids. William’s eyes slowly blinked open. He squinted against the bright lights.

Zeke’s face was not the first he saw.

William’s body was sore. From the fight and from being stuck on a poor bed. He swallowed. The motion was painful. He tried to ask. Zeke’s name almost left his lips–

Before he could speak, Adam was talking. Angry. Distressed. Pacing back and forth in the hospital room. But also relieved. So very, very relieved.

“You should have told me! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! How could you go off by yourself? Without a word? No warning? Do you realize how f*cking risky that was? What if I hadn’t been able to talk sense into Zeke? What if I hadn’t found that apartment building? What if I hadn’t gotten there in time? What if I’d died? Zeke had died? No one would’ve been able to help you!”

William’s lips parted–

“No. No! You knew there was a third Jigsaw apprentice and you didn’t f*cking mention it! One that apparently you’ve f*cked with long enough that he decided to go straight to you when he was found out! You should have told me! How did you not tell me?!”

Oh. William’s throat bobbed. It ached, with a particularly painful tugging sensation on the side. His lips began to move–

“If this isn’t an apology, I don’t want to f*cking here it.”

A shuddering breath left William’s lips. He shifted in the bed. Tried to get comfortable on the hard, thin mattress. “I’m sorry.”

It was just two simple words. Adam’s anger cracked. Just slightly.

“I think…”

Adam’s hard set frown eased off. Inch by inch.

“I’ve neglected you,” William whispered.

Adam’s throat moved up and down. His voice was considerably quieter than it had been a second ago. “Yeah?”

“And I probably should have told you.”

“Uh, ya think?”

“I thought–”

“That you were smart enough? That you could figure it out on your own?” questioned Adam. He crossed his arms. A dejected sigh left his lips. “After all this time together, I know you, William. I know how far up your own ass you can be. I know how you think you’re always the smartest man in the room.”

“I usually am.”

Adam hit him in the shoulder. He didn’t hold back on the punch. “That was a dumb joke and I’m calling it a joke right now because if that was an honest response, I’m gonna punch you again.”

“I f*cked up.”

“Yeah. You f*cking did,” hissed Adam. He shook his head.

“I didn’t want you to worry–”

“Don’t make this like you were trying to help me.”

“And I thought I could handle it,” William softly amended. “I always think I can handle it. But you, you help ground me. You always tell me what I need to hear. Not what I want to hear.”

“Who else is going to keep you from ending up in jail before you’re thirty,” Adam half joked. He pulled a plastic chair closer. He sat down. Arms leaning against the bar on the side of the bed.

William looked at it. He lifted his wrist. He was only mildly shocked by the circ*mstances. “I’m not cuffed.”

“You can thank Zeke for that.”

William’s eyes widened. “Then he…”

“You can talk about it to him later. Right now, listen to what I’m going to say and remember it well. Ok? I’m going to get the doctors after I leave, but the police will want to talk to you the moment they realize you’re awake. Ok?”

William nodded. Despite it not being necessary, he stayed absolutely frozen as Adam quickly described everything. How Hoffman was actually the one behind the copycat murders. How he had history with William. Not technically wrong. There was proof they’d met at the police academy after all. How with everything crumbling around him, Hoffman wanted to get rid of the one that knew some of his secrets. And William did know those secrets. Not enough to be properly culpable, but enough that it would explain why Hoffman would have seen him as a risk. William didn’t interrupt once.

When finished, Adam murmured, “Now that I know you’re ok, I need to get home. I haven’t had a chance to feed Larry and I seriously need a change of clothes.”

William gave a slight nod. “I get it. I’ll talk to you later. Ok?”

“Ok. I’m gonna go grab the doctor and then head out. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Adam disappeared. It wasn’t long before someone in a white coat came in. They went over his injuries. Mentioned how the shallowness of the wound on his neck had insured he hadn’t bled out immediately. Though he would have bled out if not for help arriving so soon. That part didn’t surprise William. After Hoffman had managed to catch his neck with the end of a blade, he’d said something about it being a slow process. About plans he had for William. William had tried to cover up the wound with his hand. He’d tried to keep pressure on it, but Hoffman had easily knocked him around. William had grown more and more uncoordinated, more woozy by the second until he’d lost consciousness.

The doctor finished. The police followed in not long after. William stuck with what Adam had said. He added a minimal amount. Mentioned having met Hoffman multiple times. A few more than he actually had. Simply to create more history than there was. To make the reason why Hoffman would have come after him more believable. Only when done with the questions did he finally see him. Zeke. There wasn’t that dead eyed look to him anymore. No false layers hidden behind a consciousness ready to break.

Zeke closed the door when he entered. He slowly walked forward. Not a word was said. William let his eyes slip shut. He sighed when he felt the hands around his neck.

“Would you really let me?”

William shivered as he felt Zeke’s palm. “Yes.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Of course not,” William whispered. “But I’d say you have the right. More so than anyone.”

A half laugh escaped Zeke’s lips. His thumb gently traced the bandages on William’s throat. The grip became feather light. “I can’t kill you.”

William’s eyes flickered open.

“Who else could I trust with the truth?”

He smiled. “Exactly. You know, we’re no longer even anymore.”

“How do you mean?”

“You’ve saved my life twice now. I’ve only saved yours once.”

“Saved it or damned me?”

“Same difference. Isn’t it?”

Zeke took William’s face in his hands. He pressed their foreheads together and laughed. It was a joyful noise. Arguably made more disturbing considering their conversation. Yet the noise only caused William’s heart to leap and a large smile to form over his lips. His fears about moving too quickly dissipated. Zeke knew. He understood. He was his.

Adam stopped at a grocery store. He grabbed an energy drink that looked like it would lead to a heart attack, a plastic bag of jerky, and some wet cat food as a peace offering for not feeding Larry since yesterday morning. She only really scratched the dresser. Adam hoped when he got back she hadn’t torn apart the whole apartment as a protest.

He rushed straight home. Ran up the stairs. Unlocked the door.

“I’m so sorry, Larry. I didn’t mean to–”

The bag hit the floor. The energy drink struck the wood wrong or maybe the tab had been in an odd position. Either way, a crack formed in the aluminum. Adam jumped back. The sticky liquid fizzed out everywhere. He looked back up. Just to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him–

But no. There the man was. Pushing himself up with his cane as he looked on with a rather confused look. Which fair. Adam had just spoken like he’d been expecting him.

“You knew I was–”

“No.”

“Then why–”

“I named the cat Larry.”

“You named your cat after–”

“Not everything’s about you, Lawrence. Her name’s just a coincidence.”

“Right.”

Adam shook his head. He immediately corrected himself. “That’s a lie.”

“Oh.”

The energy drink stopped fizzing out. Adam looked back down at the mess.

“I’ll get you some paper towels.”

Adam looked up again. He watched Lawrence limp into the kitchen. He moved like he’d already taken stock of the place. He grabbed a large wad of paper towels. Larry the cat padded over on her little paws. She sniffed the sweet liquid before deciding it was best left ignored. She moved around it and rubbed against Adam’s leg. She didn’t seem particularly upset. A glance over showed a half filled food bowl.

“You fed her?”

Lawrence stopped in front of Adam. “She seemed hungry.”

Adam reached for the paper towels. His fingers brushed Lawrence’s. When Lawrence let go, the paper towels drifted to the floor.

They’d touched twice. Adam desperately clinging to Lawrence. Begging him to stay. The second time when Lawrence had nearly fallen and Adam had picked up his cane. Shoved it back into his hands. That second moment had overwhelmed Adam as he’d run. He could feel it overwhelming him now only he wasn’t trying to get away now. The simple touch turned to a desperate grip. The mess was forgotten. Adam’s fingers dug into Lawrence’s forearm. The cane hit the floor. His own hands grabbed onto Adam.

Not everything’s about you, Lawrence. That had been a lie too. Lawrence had never left his mind. Not really. He’d learned to cope with it. To handle himself. He’d learned how to regain confidence and control. To be something other than the voyeur. The thought of Lawrence hadn’t disappeared though. It had simply sat in a box in Adam’s mind. Waiting until now as every conceivable emotion washed over him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Lawrence softly asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Adam. Lawrence was right. Why the f*ck was he apologizing? Larry had been the one to leave him. He’d broken the promise. The words came out even as he continued to desperately cling to the older man. Hands feeling his arms and shoulders. Pressing into the skin and feeling the bone underneath. Desperate to know Lawrence was really there and not just a figment of his imagination. His voice cracked. “Why did you break your promise?”

Lawrence’s fingers weren’t roaming like Adam’s. They were static. Stable. Firm. His doctor. His calm, collected doctor. “I didn’t break it.”

“Lawrence…” The name came out as a whimper. All Adam’s nerve disappeared like a passing whisper of wind. His learned confidence was crumbling again with the man in front of him. “You didn’t come back for me.”

“I did. I couldn’t be there myself. I’m sorry. I tried.” Finally, Lawrence’s voice began to break too. “I had to send someone in my stead, but I did come back.”

What did Lawrence mean? Was William keeping more secrets from Adam? No, that didn’t make sense. Lawrence didn’t know William so what did he mean by–

Plastic.

Hands.

Adam couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe!

It was like gas had been building only for the memories to finally be the flame. His face warped. Switching from the look of a man about to break down to one of rage. He shoved Lawrence off him in one hard, violent motion. He followed the doctor’s falling body. Larry the cat’s claws skittered across the floor as she ran from the sudden commotion. Adam’s legs landed on either side. His hands grabbed at Lawrence’s. Pushing them aside. Fingers wrapping around Lawrence’s throat. His doctor’s hair tousled. His doctor’s clothes wrinkled and out of place. His doctor beneath him. Helpless. For once not in control.

“You tried to kill me!”

“I was saving you–”

“It was you!” The tears came hot and heavy. “How could you!”

His doctor’s voice came out slightly choked. There was clear discomfort as his throat bobbed beneath Adam’s palms but there was no active panic in his eyes. Only acceptance and want. “It was the only way to free you.”

“You were supposed to come back!”

“I wanted to–”

“Then why didn’t you?!” Adam pressed down harder and harder–

“He…wouldn’t…let…me…” Each word came out in desperate, tiny gasps before Adam finally let go with a strangled shout.

Adam’s hands fell on either side of Lawrence’s face. He could feel the older man’s heavy, labored breathing beneath his thighs. The tears fell and hit Lawrence’s cheeks. He wanted to grab his skull and slam it against the ground again and again and again! He wanted to fall against his chest. To curl around him and never let go. His doctor. His doctor who couldn’t leave him. Wouldn’t leave him. Please don’t leave him!

One of Lawrence’s hands came up to rub at his neck. He cleared his throat. “You lost.”

“Shut up,” hissed Adam.

“It was my only option.”

“Like hell it was your only option! I can’t believe you! I can’t believe after everything he did to us you’d listen to that f*cking lunatic–”

“You have no idea what it was like!”

And like that, his calm, collected doctor snapped. Just like in the bathroom, the irritation rose to a boiling point. The anger could no longer be hidden. Lawrence grabbed at the back of Adam’s neck. Adam tried to pull away only to feel fingernails digging into his skin. Lawrence’s other hand grabbed onto his shirt. Adam felt his collar painfully pulling down. There was nowhere to look except in Lawrence’s eyes.

“It was worse than being alone! I’d like to see you f*cking survive with his voice in your head at every f*cking turn barely able to know his thoughts from your own!”

Lawrence let go with a pained huff. His arms fell to the floor.

“You have no idea how awful it is to hold your own daughter and all you want is to find yourself in that sh*thole of a bathroom again because you can’t feel or connect with anyone or anything.”

Adam blinked away the tears. Rubbed at his face. He wanted to say it didn’t matter. He didn’t care about Lawrence’s excuses.

“I hate you,” Adam whispered.

Lawrence’s hand came up again, gripping just below Adam’s elbow. “I missed you.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“I never stopped thinking of you.”

“I wish you were dead.”

“I finally came back for you.”

They were talking around each other. Over each other. Up until Adam finally asked a question rather than presenting a statement. “How did you find me?”

“I had help.”

“From who?”

Silence.

Who? Who could Lawrence have used to help find him? Adam tried to think of any possible connections.

“Was it Hoffman?”

Lawrence blinked in surprise. “I didn’t realize you were aware of him.”

“He came after my friend.”

“Is this the friend who’s been helping you? I found the mask. You’ve been busy, Adam.”

Then Lawrence hadn’t just poked around the kitchen. “You went through my sh*t.”

“Yes.”

Adam should be upset. Lawrence had done more than break into his apartment. He’d invaded his privacy. He knew. Or he at least knew a fraction of what Adam had been up to. Only the anger didn’t come. If anyone deserved to know, it was Lawrence. If there was one person Adam had always wanted to tell, it was his doctor.

“Is your friend the one who unshackled you? I never could figure out how you got out.”

“Yes.”

“I suppose you’re lucky to have this person as a friend.”

“I am,” whispered Adam. His hands started to roam again. Just needing to hold and feel every inch of Lawrence. If he had a solid grip on his doctor, maybe his doctor really wouldn’t disappear again. But if it wasn’t Hoffman, if Lawrence didn’t know of Hoffman and William’s connection-hell, he might not even know about Hoffman’s death. It had only happened last night. The news might not have gotten wind of it yet. Then how– “Someone was supposed to be here.” The words came out between choked little pauses as the pieces fell into place. “I was supposed to meet someone today.”

“I know.”

He couldn’t do it anymore. The revelation hurt worse than knowing Lawrence had tried to have him killed. In a sick, twisted way, Adam could almost see Lawrence’s reasoning. He was still angry with him. Still hated him. But he could understand it. Not this though. Please dear god not this!

Adam stopped trying to hold himself up. He collapsed against Lawrence’s chest. He pressed his cheek to Lawrence’s. His entire body shuddered as he felt his doctor’s arms wrap around his back. Keeping him there despite how uncomfortable the position had to be on the hardwood floor. Adam’s lips brushed Lawrence’s earlobe. His voice whispered in his ear.

“Where’s my brother, Lawrence?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No.”

A half sob escaped Adam’s lips before he could stop it. Lawrence flinched. It was hard to tell if it was the nature of the noise or the volume considering Adam’s mouth was still next to his ear. “What did you do to him?”

“I used him. And then he left.”

“How long? H-How long did you have him?”

“Several weeks. Almost two months.”

Adam could feel his heart breaking. His priorities were off. He was self aware enough to recognize that. He should be angry that Lawrence had taken his brother. f*cking kidnapped him. Had done god-knows what to him. And yet, the prevailing thought that was hurting his heart was none of that. “It was you. The only reason he ever called was because of you.”

“No. Don’t think that.” One of Lawrence’s hands stayed low as the other moved high. Fingers tangled in Adam’s short hair. “He cared. He held onto you and thoughts of you when there was nothing else. He wanted to see you. He hated himself for not doing it sooner. For not reaching out before…”

“Before you took him?”

“Yes,” Lawrence admitted.

“Then why isn’t he here now?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps I pushed him so hard he broke.”

Adam shuddered. Fresh tears fell down his face–

Lawrence jolted slightly. Adam pulled back to see what from. The cat had finally risked coming closer after the whole outburst. Larry’s whiskers brushed Lawrence’s cheek.

Lawrence repeated the statement from earlier. “You named your cat after me.”

Adam didn’t try to lie. “I did.” He hated him. Despised him. Despised his doctor. The bastard lying beneath him. But all that hate came coupled with a prevailing fact. One that couldn’t be ignored or pushed away any longer. “I missed you too.”

Hands. Touch. Fingertips and bent joints. Adam would have bruises from this for sure. “No more lies. No more secrets,” he whispered. “I want to know the truth.”

“I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you everything.”

Finally, Adam got off Lawrence’s stomach and lap. He grabbed his doctor’s hand and yanked him upwards.

“What are you going to do?” David’s question was a hushed whisper as he sat in the passenger’s seat.

It had taken time for both him and Amanda to collect themselves. They’d walked for a while. David had been absolutely lost, but it had seemed like Amanda knew where she was going. Eventually, she had broken into a locked bathroom whose door was out back of a small gas station. It was in there that she wiped the dried blood from around her mouth. Where David scrubbed the question mark from his stomach. His skin was still red from how desperately he’d rubbed his skin raw.

David had then stayed in the bathroom. Hiding. Waiting until Amanda had suddenly come back. “Hurry the f*ck up!”

He hadn’t asked how she’d gotten it. If she’d checked for security cameras. Had threatened someone. Killed someone. He’d just followed her to the car that had been pulled around the back. The lack of a key had at least told him she’d hotwired it, but other than that, he’d stayed silent. He’d been silent until their car had finally passed a sign signaling they were leaving the city limits. Only then had he spoken. Only then did he ask, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m f*cking helping you. I’m saving you. I’m still f*cking doing that.”

“I don’t mean me. I mean…what are you going to do, Amanda?”

Her face contorted. Her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “You don’t care. Don’t ask like you care.”

“I do,” whispered David.

With a sudden jolt, Amanda pulled off the side of the road. David braced against the dash. A car sped by them, the driver laying on their horn until it disappeared in the distance. Amanda was half way out of her seat by the time David slammed back against his.

“You don’t f*cking care!”

Spit flew against his cheek.

“No one cares about me! Not you! Not John! No one!”

David had no idea what had been in the letter to her. He hadn’t risked looking over and reading it. Still too in shock. Still regaining feeling from the drug that had been coursing through his veins.

“I’m the one doing you the f*cking favor! Ask another question and I’ll f*cking kick you to the curb and you can walk the rest of the way!”

Wide, angry eyes met David’s open, sad gaze. “What are you going to do? Ow!” He let out a sharp cry as she hit him in the shoulder.

“I said no more f*cking questions bitch!”

A painful lump moved down David’s throat. He felt like the positive side of a magnetic being pressed up against the positive side of another one. He kept being pushed back but for some reason he desperately tried to connect. He looked at Amanda like a mirror was being shoved in his face. Tears started to prick at the corners of his eyes. He saw unshed tears in hers. “What are you going to do-ow! Stop hitting me.”

“Stop asking stupid f*cking questions!”

David’s voice rose. “What are you going to do?!”

“What are you going to do?!” screamed Amanda. “Huh?! What are you going to f*cking do?!”

David licked his lips. He tasted the salt of his own tears. “I don’t know.” Amanda looked ready to scream at him again so he spoke quickly before she could get in a word. “I need to see Adam. I-I need to know h-he’s ok but I…I don’t know where to go after that. I don’t even know how long I’ve been m-missing but I doubt I have a-an apartment anymore. I doubt I have a job. I doubt anyone really cares. I ran once a-and I don’t have the energy to run again. H-How do I go back to holding down a sh*ty nine to five? H-How do I keep going l-like nothing happened? L-Like I wasn’t h-held against my will? I-I’m not trying to make you angry. I’m asking because I don’t know either. I-I don’t know what the f*ck I’m supposed to do.” He didn’t know what to do as he desperately tried to connect with what he’d come to see as his counterpart in this f*cked up situation.

Amanda’s nose scrunched up. Her teeth bared. When she suddenly moved, David readied for another hit across his shoulder or face. Instead, Amanda jerked backwards. She covered her face with her hands. The tears were finally released. They came hard and quick as her shoulders shook.

“I don’t have a f*cking life! I don’t have anything! Everyone f*cking knows who I am and I have no one! So stop f*cking asking me what I’m going to do because how am I supposed to know?! How?! I don’t have a f*cking future! f*ck!” A wet, heavy sob escaped her lips. “I should have just died with John!”

David’s hand inched forward. She slapped it away. He placed his palm on her arm anyways. “I’m glad you weren’t with him. I’m glad you didn’t die with John Kramer.”

“Why the f*ck are you saying that?” hissed Amanda.

“You wouldn’t have helped me.”

Her hands dropped. Her red eyes stared back at David. “And look how that’s f*cking gone!”

He shrugged. “I’m not alone,” he whispered.

“f*ck you.”

“I care.”

“But why! Why do you f*cking care!”

“Because I don’t want to be alone. I-I don’t think you want to be alone. A-And I’m glad you survived. I’m glad we both survived and we’re not alone. Why can’t the reason be as simple as that?”

Her lips twisted into a scowl. She took David’s hand like she was going to throw it off her. Instead, her body went limp. The tears continued to fall as she held David’s hand instead.

“You’ll leave and then it doesn’t matter,” whispered Amanda. “The doctor doesn’t f*cking control you anymore and you’ll be with Adam soon enough. You won’t need me.”

“I need you,” whispered David. “If you can survive, then so can I. I need you so I know I can get through this.”

“I don’t think I have survived. I don’t think I’m living at all.”

“Then maybe we can both figure out how to together.”

“f*ck off, David.” Her words were soft though. Quiet as she wiped at her face. Her hands quickly returned to the steering wheel. After several careful breaths, her foot pressed on the gas. The car pulled back onto the road.

David leaned back in his chair. So much of his sense of self felt broken. Fractured. A part of him still felt so confused and lost even with the drug addling his mind. But he recognized himself in Amanda. His counterpart in a trap that had harmed them both. A trap they had played twice and won twice for what felt like no f*cking reason. David stared at Amanda’s face as he continued to drive down the road.

Chapter 21: All the Worse

Chapter Text

William wasn’t surprised by Eleanor’s visit. Not really. He hadn’t given her his address when he’d moved and officially become a cop. After that, they’d been meeting exclusively at Eleanor’s workshop. Somehow she’d found his address. Had it been before or after their confrontation? Did it come from simple curiosity or a need to defend herself? It didn’t really matter. She was here now. And only just after everything had happened. William was alone when Eleanor came. Zeke was back at work as he rested at home, having been discharged on the day he woke up. William would have preferred to be at the precinct. To see exactly where Zeke was, what he was doing. Protecting his back because no one else would ever be enough. None except William.

Only the captain wouldn’t hear of it. She’d said he needed to take the time off from the traumatic event as the case was finalized. Angie was getting more and more annoying as time went on. William itched to test her. A woman who had shut people up and squashed stories and helped pay off or intimidate journalists against news pieces that would have damaged the police’s reputation. She certainly deserved to be tested.

It was difficult, but William forced himself to think like Adam. Zeke was still fond of Angie after all. Everything with Hoffman had only just gone down. Thanks to Zeke’s quick thinking, he’d given William and Adam a momentary out. It would be stupid not to use it. Even just temporarily as the police thought the copycat was gone along with all of John Kramer’s apprentices.

Such plans for the future could be focused on later though. When he opened the door, all his attention turned to Eleanor.

“When did you find out where I lived?”

“A while ago.”

It wasn’t really an answer as she let herself in. He closed the door behind her. She looked around. Probably taking note of any differences from his former apartment.

“Hmm, it’s nice. I like the exposed brick.”

“Thanks.”

Finally, her eyes moved back to William. She went over the light bruises on his face. The still bandaged neck. She let out another humming noise.

“Sad that I survived?” questioned William.

“Not at all.”

A half laugh escaped his lips. “You went above and beyond what I asked of you. I just wanted suspicion thrown his way. But you contacted the FBI directly.”

“I did.”

“Did you know he’d suspect me?”

“I’d hoped.”

“Are you sure you’re not disappointed he didn’t kill me?”

“No. Not really. I think I would have been more upset if he had.”

“So you were testing me then.”

The familiar, sly smile moved over her lips. “If you want to think of it that way.”

If this was anyone else, William might feel threatened. With Eleanor though, it was like they were finding equal footing. “You try something like that again, I’ll retaliate.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“As long as we’re on the same page.”

“We most certainly are. Do you think you would have survived without help?”

“No.”

“Then you are incredibly lucky to be surrounded by those you consider close to.”

“Are we close?”

“I like to think we are.”

“Same page, right?”

“Same page.”

William relaxed. “I’m still on required leave. Want to grab something to eat? I’ve been bored out of my mind not being allowed to go back to work.”

“Sure. I’ll drive. Anything you’re in the mood for?”

“You pick.” William grabbed his coat and slid on his shoes before the pair left the apartment, side by side.

Adam was lying in bed. He was still…

Confused? No. That wasn’t it. He knew his thoughts. His feelings on Lawrence were painfully clear. Conflicted? That seemed more accurate. He hated Lawrence but he cared for him. He wanted him dead but he didn’t think he could have kept going if it had turned out Lawrence hadn’t made it. Even with William at Adam’s side. He wanted to shove his doctor away but he couldn’t keep his hands off the older man.

He only had the one bed. Despite everything Lawrence had done to him, even after the truth had come spilling out, Adam couldn’t force him onto the couch. Adam could have taken the couch instead, but again, he just needed to be near. His fingernails dug into Lawrence’s skin. Not enough to make him bleed but enough to at least be uncomfortable. To leave little impressions that might last a few seconds. Night had already passed. They’d woken up early. Possibly at the same time though neither had felt like moving. Adam could feel little Larry curled up at the foot of the bed.

Lawrence hadn’t brought his own clothes. Like he’d been running on instinct and desperation. The same as Adam. He hadn’t thought of the long term. If this even would be long term. Adam didn’t know the answer to that either. Only that he had his doctor back. His. And he wasn’t going to let go now or ever.

Adam clung to his own shirt on Lawrence’s chest. The man lying in his clothes on his bed. Fingers just as painfully pushing into Adam’s skin.

The words fell naturally. A gruesome, yet accurate depiction of how he viewed himself and Lawrence. “I want to break you open and crawl inside your ribcage,” whispered Adam. “I want to lay my head on your heart and never leave.”

“I didn’t know you could be so poetic.”

“Who says I don’t mean it literally?”

“I’d let you then.”

Adam’s hand moved over the shirt. He palmed at Lawrence’s ribs. Pressed hard enough to feel each thin bone. Lawrence squirmed underneath him. Adam didn’t know why, but it felt like he’d just discovered a great, forbidden knowledge. “You’re ticklish?”

“A little.”

Adam snorted. It felt odd. Learning something so incredibly human about Lawrence. He stopped poking Lawrence so much. Simply placed his arms around Lawrence’s sides. Pulled them both closer.

“I would let you kill me,” Lawrence repeated. “If that was what you wanted.”

“Do you want to die?”

“I don’t want to exist without you. There’s been this fog in my head. This space I can’t access or feel. But I feel whole with you. I feel whole right now.”

“I think I know what you mean,” mumbled Adam. He’d had William. He felt like he hadn’t been as lonely as Lawrence. He’d at least had someone who understood him. That he’d learned to work off of and even grow to have a balanced relationship with. From all that Lawrence had spoken of, it was clear there had never been a relationship that truly fit for Lawrence. He hadn’t told his wife. Hadn’t been able to connect with her or even his own daughter. Amanda Young had been a relationship out of necessity. A debt that had gone back and forth. And as far as David went…

Adam needed Lawrence. He wanted Lawrence. He couldn’t exist without him and yet…

“If David is dead, I will kill you,” whispered Adam. “I have to.”

“I understand.”

When Lawrence had finished explaining everything, Adam had wanted to leave. He’d gone so far as to grab his keys. A jacket. He was ready to go searching for his brother only…

Where would he go? Where could he possibly start searching? He’d called their parents. Finally. After weeks of not talking to them. They said they hadn’t heard anything from David. Had tried to ask Adam to make his brother call them when he got in touch with him. There’d been no worry in their voices. No hint that they thought David was missing at all. Adam would have tried David’s work, but he didn’t know the number. And considering all that David had gone through, Adam highly doubted his brother had just gone back to his former life. Maybe he’d ran? Like the first time? Was trying to start over again? Somewhere new?

Adam still couldn’t believe his brother had been a victim. Same as him. He’d always thought it had been the fight that had broken them apart. That David had wiped his hands and moved on. He never would have guessed his brother had been running from something.

“Will you help me track down my brother?” Adam already knew the answer the moment the words left his lips.

“Yes.”

Adam let his eyes slip shut. He didn’t want to get up. He could have stayed like that for all time. Wrapped around Lawrence. Knowing his doctor was here and couldn’t pull away.

“If killing David would have brought you to me,” whispered Adam, “if somehow killing him would have brought me out, would you have killed him? Even while knowing I’d have to kill you for killing my brother?”

“Yes.”

“I forgive you,” Adam said. He felt Lawrence’s forehead touch his. Their noses bumping as they stayed close and wrapped around each other.

Eventually, Adam would get up. At the very least, he had to in order to feed little Larry. He would talk to Lawrence. He would try to think of what he was going to tell William. Of a plan on how he could possibly track down David. Little did he know, he didn’t have to.

It was painfully easy directing the police’s attention elsewhere. It made Zeke feel simultaneously asleep and awake. He was still drowning. Still had his head underwater. But it was like he was now comfortable with that. Like William was no longer the one shoving his head under and it was Zeke’s choice to stay there.

He wasn’t sure what that meant. If he’d ever drag his mind out of this in between. If he even wanted to. Logically, he knew what he was doing was wrong. Moral, legal, didn’t f*cking matter. It was wrong. At the same time it was freeing though. He’d played by the f*cking rules for so f*cking long. Had been sh*t on by his whole precinct for years. Having power where he had once had none felt good. It was twisted and wrong and jesus it felt good looking at some of his colleagues knowing they didn’t have a f*cking clue.

Zeke went to William’s apartment after work. Where else would he have gone? Where else did he want to go? Nowhere. Not really. Marcus had called him after everything had gone down. No doubt Angie had f*cking tattled. Zeke hadn’t answered. Only listened to the voicemail later. Marcus had mentioned something about actually sitting down and eating a meal together. Zeke didn’t know if his old man had been serious about it or not. Zeke honestly didn’t care if he had. It was too late for that kind of sh*t anyways.

When he got home-and it was home. Felt like home. Felt like a cage that he’d chosen. Zeke easily noted how William was dressed.

“What the f*ck happened to ‘you should be resting’?”

That familiar, smug smile stretched over William’s face. “It’s boring as hell. If it helps, I wasn’t out long and I didn’t drive.”

“Adam?”

“Naw. A friend.”

“A friend. Really? You don’t have friends, William.” It was funny how only now Zeke really noticed what should have always been a blazing, red flag.

“I have Adam.”

“You think of him as family.”

“We both know he’s not really my cousin.”

“Still doesn’t f*cking count.”

“Well, I still have one friend. Eleanor.”

“The one you’d visit. Had a workshop or some sh*t?”

“Yep.”

“I honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if you made all that sh*t up.”

“I made some things up. Not her.”

Zeke thought for a second. His brow furrowed. “Was there really an accident? At her workshop?”

“Depends on how you define accident.”

“William…”

“Fine, fine. If you want to know the truth, she stabbed me.”

“She stabbed you?”

“Just once.”

“Oh, well that was nice of her.”

“It’s all good. Honest. Just a little disagreement between friends. She’s really cool. Actually, you want to meet her sometime?”

Zeke shrugged. “Yeah, why not?”

William’s smile shifted to something more genuine. “Cool. Yeah. I’ll talk to her about it. So, how was work? How’s the case going?”

Zeke sat down beside him. They both easily talked about work like it had been just a normal day. Maybe this was a normal day now. Zeke found he wasn’t really worried about it.

It had taken time to find Adam’s place. To say David’s mind hadn’t been the clearest would have been an understatement. The doctor had kept David’s phone with him as well so it wasn’t like David could have called Adam either.

Amanda had done most of the asking-or really threatening. They knew the city. Had three possible addresses going off what David could remember. She asked around. Used the shared description with the high possibility Adam had been seen walking around with a camera. Amanda was helping David, but when they found the real place, it would all be on him. He was the one who had to do this. Not Amanda. She didn’t care. She didn’t.

After some harsh words with a tenant, she was pretty sure they finally had the right place. Because of that, rather than investigating herself, she pushed David forward.

“She said two-o-nine,” Amanda said. “I’ll wait here. If you don’t come back, then I know we’ve got the right place.”

David shook his head. “No.”

“What the f*ck do you mean, no? Do you not want to see your f*cking brother anymore?”

“No, it’s not…it’s not that.” David’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I just…where are you going to go?”

“I’ve already said it a million times. None of your damn business.”

His eyes flickered up to meet hers. He looked at her like it was his business. It pissed her off. She grabbed him by the ear. Yanked down and towards her. She was ready to scream at him. To tell him to hurry up and f*cking run. He still had a life. He still had a name and a future. He didn’t f*cking need her. All he needed was some time and distance. He’d eventually realize it. No one needed her. She had no one–

“What if Dr. Gordon is there?” David spoke before she could shove him away.

Amanda’s throat closed up. She was supposed to see the doctor. One last request. One final wish. A promise to John. She reached into her pocket. The place where the letter had stayed the moment she’d been given it. She still didn’t know what to feel about the man. Another player who’d never been mentioned by John. She hadn’t even been meant to know of Lawrence. Not really. That had been purely accidental. The man had been with John longer than her. Probably knew things Amanda never would. And yet he’d been jealous of her. He’d been tasked with passing on the letter. The final message for Amanda to give. Not for him to pass on. She still didn’t know how she felt about that. A part of her didn’t want to feel anything anymore.

She tore off the final passage. The message not meant for her. She shoved it in David’s hands.

“Go.” The sound slid between her teeth like steam from a pipe. “So what if he is? I don’t f*cking care anymore.”

She kept trying to tell herself that, but the problem was truly the opposite. She cared too much. She’d always cared too much. And David seemed to know that. He took her hand with his free one. His fingers wrapped around hers. “Please?”

“I said no–”

David yanked her towards the stairs. It was the most strength he’d really exhibited around her. She tried to pull away twice as hard, but David held firm. “Please?”

“Jesus, you’re f*cking pathetic.” Rather than trying to move away, she went forward. The sudden change in motion broke David’s grip on her, but she kept going up the stairs. She snatched the torn letter back as she passed. Her boots struck each step like a mini thunderstorm. She was just doing it to get him off her back. So he didn’t try to follow her to the stolen car or some sh*t. She didn’t care. She really didn’t.

Amanda stopped at the door number the woman had given. She didn’t bother to wait for David. She banged hard with the side of her fist. She spun back around as David finished rushing down the hall. “There!” She shoved David aside. “Now f*cking leave me alone–”

Before she could move past, the door opened in a flash. She turned–

The same face.

But not.

She knew that now. She could see the difference, and not just because of David’s added scars. She couldn’t blame the way Adam reacted. She couldn’t even really be upset with herself for how she reacted. It was instinct. Fear. The need to defend oneself. It was lucky Amanda didn’t have a weapon on her. That instinct might have taken it far enough to stab Adam in the neck. Rather than in bloodshed, the panicked scuffle simply ended with both of them breathing heavily. Amanda had both hands on his shirt. Adam had managed to get one hand in her hair. They were both pulling. The collar of his shirt digging into his neck. Her hair being painfully pulled back. David and the figure behind Adam, Lawrence, barely had time to really react. Lawrence couldn’t move fast enough, but David grabbed Adam.

“D-Don’t! Please! J-Just…”

David’s words were momentarily worthless. Adam’s eyes were glued to Amanda. There was recognition there. Real recognition.

Adam connected the dots. “Before…the apartment…we met on the stairs.”

Amanda’s throat bobbed. “Yes.”

“Did you already plan to kidnap me? Back then?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to try to kill me now?”

Amanda glanced to David. Despite how David was grabbing Adam, it was only when Adam followed her gaze that he seemed to process his twin was standing right there. “I promised him I’d help,” hissed Amanda. She suddenly let go. With the force no longer acting on him, Adam let go too in order to stabilize his footing. Her eyes moved to Lawrence. He was clearly surprised. Possibly more of her than David. She was supposed to talk to him… “And now I’ve helped him. Don’t worry, you’ll never f*cking see me again.”

“Amanda, don’t–”

She wrenched herself from David’s attempted grip. “No! Stop trying to pretend you care-hey! f*ck off!”

In a flash, Adam pulled her in. David couldn’t have understand why his brother did it. Amanda certainly didn’t. But he worked with Adam, quickly unbalancing Amanda before she could get the hands off her. Adam closed the door. He turned on her. “You’re a wanted fugitive. I can’t have you screaming on my doorstep. Especially when my cousin’s a cop.”

Amanda scowled. The man had a point, but that didn’t mean Amanda had to be happy about it. If he’d just hold his brother back, Amanda would gladly get out of his f*cking hair. David slowly blinked. “We don’t…have a cousin.”

“Right. Um…long story.” Adam slowed down. He looked to his brother again. Went back to just…watching him.

It was David who moved first. Amanda’s heart hurt as she looked at the two men. One who she’d damned. One who had been damned simply for her benefit. A mirror and a curse. She wanted to just leave. To go…somewhere. To finally be alone. Just as she was supposed to be. But she knew the moment she moved to the door, David would try to stop her. Even with how desperately he was holding his brother. She just couldn’t be the reason to break them apart. Not after everything.

Her eyes found Lawrence. She could see the questions in his eyes. She’d pass along the message. She’d pass it along, and then she was gone. She was done. No one would need her after that. David didn’t need her. It didn’t matter what he’d said. He had his brother back. He didn’t need her.

David couldn’t help it. The emotion started to bubble up inside and soon he found his face buried against his brother’s chest as he sobbed against him. David held on like a lifeline. He didn’t realize Adam was holding back. Not until he felt the arms slowly moving around him and fingers running through his hair.

Snot bubbled out. The tears came just a little harder.

“Hey. Hey, David. Hey, give me just a second,” whispered Adam. He tried to pull away, David held on all the tighter. “Please, just…just a second. I promise,” Adam forced out. There was a slight choking noise to his voice. He was trying to keep it together. His palm rubbed circles into David’s back. “Just a second. I promise.” Piece by piece, Adam pulled David’s limbs off him. David tried to cling to him. Adam moved with just a little bit more force. When he got a hand free, he rubbed David’s head. A parallel to all the times David had ruffled Adam’s hair when they’d been little. “Just a second. I promise.”

David breathed in deeply. The noise came with choking noises and mucus coating his throat. He looked up. Blinked through the tears. Adam stepped away. He turned towards Lawrence. He looked torn. His hand curled into a fist. He looked away. Looked back. Lawrence gave a slight nod–

Adam sucker punched him hard in the face. He immediately followed up the motion by holding Lawrence’s cheeks and chin carefully. “I forgive you, but f*ck Lawrence.”

“I know.”

“f*ck.”

Adam let go. He came back to David. He brought David close to him rather than having to be pulled. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, David. You’re ok. You’re safe. I’m sorry for everything. Every stupid f*cking thing I ever said. I’m sorry for everything that happened to you because of me.”

David tried to respond. A sob was all that managed to leave his lips. He pressed his cheek to Adam’s chest as his shoulders remained hunched over. His eyes happened to find Lawrence. The doctor didn’t look guilty. Just a little in pain from the punch. Otherwise, his expression was unreadable. He stared back. David quickly closed his eyes. He gripped Adam all the tighter.

“I’ve got a shower. You look like you could do with a shower,” whispered Adam.

“L-Last time I had running water was in a g-gas station b-bathroom.” David choked on the words.

“Well, this place isn’t the f*cking ritz, but I’ve got better than that and I got clean clothes. Come on.” Adam forced David to straighten up. He put his arm around his brother. He looked over David’s shoulder and at Amanda. David wasn’t sure why he said what came next. Maybe he could just tell how important it was that she didn’t leave just yet. “You, don’t leave.”

“What? We got unfinished f*cking business?” growled Amanda.

“No. Lawrence told me enough. I don’t need an explanation. I blame him more than I blame you, and if anyone’s really to blame, it’s the psycho who planned the trap in the first place,” murmured Adam. His gaze lingered before he guided David down the hall. “In here.”

David suddenly jolted at something moving by his ankle as they walked into the bedroom. He glanced down. A cat stared back at him.

“Shoo, Larry. Go eat or something,” Adam said.

The fat little cat meowed. It followed them despite Adam shaking his foot at it.

“You named him Larry?”

“Her. But…yeah.”

It was almost funny. Adam sounded more guilty than any emotion Lawrence had ever expressed towards David.

“I’m not going to try to understand,” whispered David. His voice was still rough. He wiped at his face. Adam gestured for him to sit on the toilet so David did. He jolted back to his feet when Adam left. It was only for a moment though. Adam placed a pile of clean clothes on the edge of the sink. He walked back to David. His hand came up. He hesitated.

“Do you mind if I…”

“No,” whispered David.

Adam’s fingers felt the raised skin. He traced the scar. Fresh tears fell down both their faces. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“The police didn’t believe me. We’d just…I didn’t think anyone would believe me. Even you.”

“f*ck. I’m sorry. I can’t say that enough.”

“Have…” David’s whole body shuddered. “Have mom or dad…”

“They’re not worried. They…they never knew you were kidnapped. I don’t know if that’s easier or harder to hear.”

“Not their fault,” whispered David. “Hardly talked to them anyways.”

“They didn’t realize I’d been missing either,” Adam added.

“When you first called…”

“It was right after William rescued me.”

David’s brow furrowed. The new tears soaked into the sleeve of his shirt. He looked up. “I don’t know that name.”

“I’d be shocked if you did. There’s…f*ck. There’s so much to catch up on. I’ll tell you it. All of it. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to tell me as well.”

“Didn’t the doctor already talk to you?” Looking at the clothes on Adam and the new clothes on the sink, it was easy to tell they were the same as what Lawrence had been wearing. David didn’t know what to make of that. He just knew he couldn’t blame Adam. He didn’t want a fight. He didn’t want to argue. He had his brother back. He just wanted his brother.

“Lawrence did. But he has his version and I’m sure you have yours. If…if there’s anything I need to do…if I need to get rid of Lawrence for you…I will.”

David rapidly shook his head. He didn’t know if he wanted Lawrence dead or not. It felt like he wasn’t even allowed to think of such a thing. Even if he wanted it. “Do you want Amanda dead?”

“I…haven’t thought of her. I know she was a part of it. From what Lawrence already said. From the papers. It just…it’s still so distant. I didn’t even realize I’d met Amanda Young. Not until now. You don’t want her to leave. Do you want to kill her?”

“No! No. I…it’s like seeing myself in her.”

“Lawrence said your trap was the same as Amanda’s?”

David nodded. “And…”

“And what?”

It was harder talking about what had recently happened. Amanda’s crazed, desperate look as she stared down at him. Her fingers on the knife. The metal wrapped around her head.

“You don’t have to tell me. Not right now.”

David managed a shaky nod.

Adam leaned around him. He turned the water on. “Like I said before, the apartment isn’t great. If I remember, you like the water scalding. The hot water should last at least ten minutes if you take a quick enough shower. You still like it super hot. Right?”

‘Yes’ tried to escape his lips. A tiny wheeze just left. His shoulders shook. He bowed his head and started to cry again as he did his best to nod out a response.

Lawrence looked at Amanda. She glared back. They could both still hear David and Adam though it was getting harder to distinguish the words.

Amanda squeezed her eyes shut. She slowly breathed out her nose. She took out the torn part of the letter. She marched over. “There. John’s final f*cking goodbye.”

Lawrence blinked in surprise. His eyes started to scan the words. Amanda spoke the truth before he finished.

“John knew. He always knew we’d met. He knew you wanted Adam dead.”

A gulp traveled down his throat. Even with John gone and his wish technically already fulfilled, it was a chilling promise. The words were simple and to the point. A rarity for John. In essence, Lawrence was to watch out for Jill. To protect her. A threat wasn’t clearly named, but it wasn’t hard to guess it would have been Hoffman. There was also the promise that there was someone else that would handle Lawrence should he fail. He doubted it was Amanda. Someone else. Wherever she’d gotten the piece of paper from. He’d thought himself John’s final secret. It seemed the man had kept even more.

“Did you hear about Hoffman?” murmured Lawrence.

“Yes.”

“Then it would appear John didn’t know everything.” He couldn’t have predicted Hoffman’s demise considering he never knew of William’s existence or that Adam actually survived. At least the letter didn’t allude to that. Keeping watch over Jill would be far easier without any threat over it.

“He knew enough,” mourned Amanda. “And we’re all the worse for it.”

Lawrence’s eyes ran over the words again before finally crumbling up the letter. He limped over to drop it in the kitchen trash. “That we are,” he softly agreed. “That we are.”

Chapter 22: Epilogue

Chapter Text

Adam sat in the passenger’s seat. He leaned his head against the window as he talked to David over the phone. “What’s Oregan like?”

“Wet.”

Adam snorted at his brother’s grumbling over the phone. “How many days of rain in a row is it now?”

“Four. I hate it up here.”

Adam laughed again. “How’s Amanda?”

“Surprisingly…chill. For Amanda. At least. We’re outside of this small town. Smaller than anything we’ve lived in. Lots of pine trees and sh*t. I think they’re pine. It’s kind of dull. But dull is nice. You know? Almost peaceful.”

“Can’t relate,” said Adam. Though honestly, going somewhere small and off the map did sound like a nice break from the usual. It gave Adam a few ideas. He’d have to mention it to Lawrence. His thoughts turned back to David when his brother added something.

“She hasn’t killed anyone since the cop who was trying to evict us from squatting.”

“Huh, that is chill for Amanda.” That had happened about a month ago. David had some money saved up. Adam also sent him money whenever he could as David continued to follow Amanda. The interest may have died down a bit with John Kramer, but the public hadn’t forgotten Amanda Young was still alive and missing. It had led to the pair ending up in some pretty odd places. Not that David seemed to mind it.

When everyone had been in Adam’s apartment, it had been nothing short of a surreal experience. They were all people Adam knew. All who were deeply integral to his life but who he’d once placed in separate categories. Even Amanda. Sure, he hadn’t made the connection. He hadn’t known what she looked like. He hadn’t known until recently that she was the woman from the hallway. But she’d tried to kill him. She’d assisted John in putting him in that bathroom. Him and Lawrence. That made her just as important to Adam’s life. If not for her actions, Adam might never be here. And if not for the pure luck that she hadn’t killed him instantly, he certainly wouldn’t be here.

Adam didn’t really blame her. He’d blamed Lawrence more. Though even that he’d gotten over by now. He hadn’t wanted to understand Lawrence’s side. How alone he must have been. What being healed and taken care of by John Kramer must have been like. How that could mess with someone’s head after going through the torment they’d gone through both in the pain that had been inflicted upon them and the pain they’d inflicted upon themselves.

There’d been no desire to maintain a relationship with Amanda though. Adam likely wouldn’t have any if not for his brother. Amanda had tried to leave as soon as possible, but the moment she did, David insisted on going with her. It had shocked Adam. Even hurt a little, at the time. But Adam understood it now. David had been afraid for him. He’d needed to find him so they could both find an ending. To reconcile. To know the other was ok and all the stupid sh*t they’d said to each other hadn’t really been meant.

When David had left, he’d left knowing Adam was in a good place. That they wouldn’t fall off. That they didn’t blame each other for that fight ages ago. And they had kept in touch. Called most days. Sometimes Adam had even taken a road trip to drive out and see David in whatever corner of the country he and Amanda had settled in. He finally had his own car too so he didn’t need to borrow anyones. It was a piece of sh*t but it did the job.

If David hadn’t gone with Amanda, Adam wasn’t sure what might have happened to her. What she would have done. Continued Kramer’s work? Killed without care? Taken revenge on anyone that might have been left in her life at that point? And then what? Adam was pretty sure Amanda didn’t know what she wanted either. She still didn’t know. But having David along seemed to help. David did everything with the goal of supporting Amanda, being there for her so she was no longer alone. Amanda allowed it out of a warped view she was helping David. Protecting him from getting himself hurt or in trouble as he undoubtedly would if she left him behind. At least, that was the feeling Adam got from their relationship. Amanda and him didn’t talk directly to one another.

Except for when Amanda had called Adam from David’s phone. That had been recently too. She’d asked him what David’s favorite dessert was. It had been odd but…good. Maybe Amanda was finding a real connection with David as they tried to stay under the radar and out of the public eye.

“How’s William?” David asked.

“Good.” David and William still hadn’t met. Adam had told them both everything. They’d deserved it. They both felt like they knew the other man by now, but hopefully they would actually get to know each other very soon. Next time Adam drove out to meet David and Amanda, he planned to take William with him. “He’s mainly just sad my vacation is still like a week from being over.”

“I still can’t believe you consider going back to that city a vacation. I can’t believe you ever went back,” murmured David.

“It’s…different. I don’t know how to explain it. It was nice of Lawrence to do this for me.”

There was a clear tinge of sarcasm in David’s voice. “Are you going to start gift wrapping bodies to each other for anniversaries?”

Adam winced. “It’s not-we’re not just-it’s the–”

“You don’t have to explain it,” whispered David.

“I always feel like I do.”

“Just…I…I killed someone. I didn’t want to, but I had to. I had…it was me or him and just…I don’t think I’ll ever understand needing to do it.”

“I don’t need to do it. I’m not a psychopath,” grumbled Adam.

“You know what I mean.”

“Right. Yeah. Just–”

“Does he deserve it?” interrupted David.

“You mean the current guy?”

“Yeah.”

“He does.”

“Ok.”

“Ok? That’s it?”

“I trust you. I trust…I trust you’re doing what you need to. To feel…get…I do. I’m not judging you. I’m not. I’ll just never fully understand. But I love you. You know?”

“Love you too, pixie.”

Adam smiled as David groaned over the nickname. “f*ck you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Just be careful.”

“Always am.”

“I’ll let you know when we move locations again,” David said. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Talk to you soon.”

Adam hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket. His lips moved into a smile when he spotted Lawrence finally walking over. Lawrence took the driver’s side. Normally Lawrence would throw his cane to the side. Adam took it and held it in the passenger’s seat instead.

“And how is David?” Lawrence asked. He sat down with a slight huff.

“Good. They’ve been in the same area for a while now though they recently moved where they were sleeping.”

“Good. Good.”

Lawrence had never really shown guilt for putting David through what he had. Even now. Whether David forgave Lawrence or not hadn’t been a topic of conversation either. David preferred to avoid talking about Lawrence if at all possible. Though he’d accepted the man’s place in Adam’s life. Adam had made peace with Lawrence’s lack of guilt as well. After all, David was still alive and safe. If David hadn’t been involved, Adam would have completely appreciated Lawrence’s willingness to do whatever he could to try and get back to Adam. As it stood, he only appreciated it so much.

What had happened between them was in the past though. All Adam was focused on was the future ahead of him. He leaned his chin against the top of Lawrence’s cane. “Get the last things we needed?”

“I did. And I assume you followed our detective while I was at work?” Lawrence raised an eyebrow. He looked sideways at Adam as he started the car.

“Oh yeah. Zeke and William managed to get me the information I needed easily enough. You know, the poor guy only recently transferred to this area. Largely because of a coverup at his old precinct because he killed an innocent guy, but still.”

“Poor guy?” Lawrence drawled. “Are you doubting yourself, Adam?”

“I’m just saying, schematics. You know? What are the odds the unlucky f*cker came into the line of firing right when you wanted to give me a birthday present? It just ended up too perfect.”

“It’s not your birthday.”

“It’s an expression, Larry. David actually called it an anniversary gift.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know!” Adam rolled his eyes hard. “I’m trying to be sweet here.”

“Your confusing way of going about it is quite endearing.”

The words were said with sarcasm, but Adam just grinned anyways. “Thank you. So, we’ve got pretty much everything for our little game with Detective Halloran and his informant?”

“Munsen. And yes. We do. Are you ready?”

Adam felt giddy. “Yes.” He reached over. Lawrence took one hand off the wheel to grip his fingers. They squeezed.

Eleanor was texting William about how her first day had gone when the doctor she was under came over.

“So, what do you make of your first day?” asked Dr. Nelson.

“Mostly what I expected.” She finished the text and pocketed the phone. “Thank you. For showing me around.”

“Wouldn’t really help if you didn’t get familiar with the building first. Do you have plans tonight?”

Her arms came across her chest. She shot him an unimpressed glance.

“Not like that,” Dr. Nelson quickly said. “I told my wife, Christine, that we had a new intern and that I’d be specifically overseeing your time with us. She said I should invite you to dinner.”

Eleanor thought about it for a second. “I’m not going to get tackled by four children of varying ages am I? Because that hardly sounds like a relaxing evening.”

“We’ve got our first on the way so you definitely don’t have to worry about it. And Christine has been using a lot of her free time cooking so really any excuse to not have leftovers is a good one.”

“Does that explain the complimentary cookies in the breakroom?”

“Basically.”

“And I thought that was just for me,” she joked. “No, I don’t have plans. Where do you live?”

“Not far. If you want, you can just follow me out of the parking lot.”

“Good enough for me. Let me grab my things.” She grabbed her purse and keys from the locker. She followed Logan as they casually talked about how the day had gone and plans for tomorrow.

“Eleanor hasn’t met Lawrence yet,” William explained to Zeke. She’d met Zeke by now. Had talked with Adam over the phone, but still hadn’t met the doctor. “Adam already told Lawrence she transferred schools to work at the hospital so he knows she’s there though.”

Zeke let out a little hum of acknowledgement.

William narrowed his eyes. “She’s working under another doctor. Dr. Nelson. Not that she cares either way. She’s only slightly interested in getting to meet Lawrence. She mainly just wanted to move to the city so she could visit the crime scenes of the original games more easily and whenever she wanted.”

“Sure. Sure.”

William put his phone on the counter. He crossed his arms. “And she’s actually head of the hospital now. She beat the chief medical advisor in pingpong so she won the hospital in the bet.”

“Gotcha.”

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying. Are you?”

“What? I’m listening. I’m totally f*cking listening!”

“Uh huh.” William moved around the counter. He sat on the edge of the couch right where Zeke’s head was propped up on a pillow. “And when are you going to get up?”

“I don’t want to disturb Larry.”

Adam’s little black and white fat cat sat curled up and asleep on Zeke’s chest. William smiled. “And you said you didn’t want to take care of her for almost a month.”

“The litterbox smells like sh*t. I’ll be happy when Adam is back.”

William laughed. He leaned over and scratched behind Larry’s ear. Zeke smacked his hand away.

“Stop. You’ll disturb her.”

“We should get a pet when we send her back to Adam.”

“Absolutely not-ah! See what you did?!”

William continued to laugh as Larry stretched and jumped off Zeke’s chest. William moved around and quickly took Larry’s place. Zeke let out a slight oof as William laid out on top of his body. William’s lips brushed the tip of Zeke’s nose. “So, are you going to finally tell me what this surprise is that you’ve been working on?”

“Getting anxious?”

“We’ve waited. We’ve given the police and public some room to breathe. But change isn’t going to actually happen if cops aren’t being tested. And what we gave Adam isn’t meant to ever see the light of day. So yes. I am getting a little anxious. You’re not backing out. Are you?”

Zeke quickly shook his head. “I’m not confused. Not anymore.”

“Ok. So why exactly have you told me I can’t pick our next target?”

“Because I’ve picked him.”

“Really now?”

“I wanted to make sure it all went forward first. No point if sh*t didn’t go his way and he stayed in prison.”

“Stayed–” William’s eyes went wide. He stiffened on top of Zeke. One hand curled into Zeke’s forearm. Did he really mean…

Zeke’s voice came out soft and slow. William could feel the slight reverberation across his chest. “Pete’s out on bail.”

William slowly forced all the air in his lungs out. He tried to keep his voice steady. “He’s out?”

“He will be. In about a week. You ok?”

William shuddered. “Yeah. Totally.”

“It’s ok if you’re not. I get it.”

William blinked hard. He slowly nodded. “So then…you want to…”

“You’ve already said Boz wasn’t really my first. He was an accident,” Zeke replied. “It was you who said it should be special.”

“I did. Didn’t I?” William slowly breathed in and out. He pressed his lips to Zeke. The kiss harsh and bruising. “I don’t want him to get out. He doesn’t deserve to survive.”

“Then we’ll make it unwinnable,” Zeke easily said. “I know this is different for you. I’ll get you whatever you need.”

“What day does he get out?”

“Next Thursday.”

William’s brain worked quickly. “We’ll do it on Saturday. Let him have a few hours of freedom before the past catches up.”

“Already have ideas?”

“The only thing I’ve thought about more in my entire life is you,” whispered William. “Thank you.”

“I’ll make sure it’s perfect for you. Just tell me what to get.”

William’s lips finally broke into a grin. A breathless, deranged laugh left William’s lips again. He kissed Zeke’s lips and neck. As responsive moans were dragged from Zeke’s throat, William repeated the whispered words again and again. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

David sat on the porch listening to the rain hit the tin roof above him. He’d just complained about it to Adam, but when dry and undercoverage, the sounds were kind of nice. He and Amanda had found the abandoned property while driving. It looked like a fire had destroyed most of it, but there was some coverage under the damaged structure. Staying for long would have been a bit uncomfortable, but a stop at a motel would fix them up with a warm shower when they were ready to continue moving.

“Why are you out here?”

Amanda appeared in the doorless frame. A glance behind her revealed their bags neatly stacked in a corner.

“I don’t know. Just sounds nice out here. And it’s actually not that cold right now.” David gave a slight shrug. His eyes moved over the flush trees around them. They were a few feet from a road but with the trees being so thick, it was hard to see. David’s gaze moved back to Amanda. He noted how she was standing. He looked back at the woods.

“You’re not going to ask?” she grudgingly said.

“You’ll tell me if you want to.”

“It could be a knife. I could be about to kill you.”

“I trust you,” murmured David. He meant it too. He could just barely see Amanda’s reaction out of the corner of his eyes. She looked irritated but guilty at the same time. She didn’t move her hands out from behind her back. “Thinking about anything?”

“Lynn Denlon.”

The answer came surprisingly quickly. “Who’s that?”

“She was meant to be my last victim,” murmured Amanda.

“You were going to put her in a trap?”

“I was going to kill her in the trap. If she succeeded in it.”

“Ah.” David knew some of what had gone down between her and Hoffman. Not every detail. Amanda wasn’t the kind of person to be chatty. But he knew enough. “Are you glad she’s alive?”

“I don’t know. I wonder if she’s glad she’s alive.” Amanda moved forward. Her hand came out. She held an object towards David. His eyes went wide.

“When did you grab a Chick-O-Stick?”

“Stole it at the last gas station we were at.”

“Adam and I used to get these on road trips all the time,” grinned David. “You can’t find them as often as you used to. Least when we were little.”

Amanda grimaced. “It looks disgusting.”

“It’s seriously great. At least if you like peanut butter and coconut. It’s the best candy ever. Easily my favorite.”

“I know.”

David paused in pulling off the wrapper. “You did?”

Amanda shrugged.

David thought about it for a moment. It clicked when he recalled the outgoing call to Adam. The one he hadn’t remembered making but had shrugged it off and figured he’d just forgotten it. The call had said it hadn’t been a long one anyways. It was only now he was realizing he hadn’t called his brother. That one had been Amanda. David’s smile softened. Amanda sat near his feet. One boot stuck out just far enough that some of the rain dripping off the roof hit the rubber. David broke off a chunk. “Here.”

“It looks gross.”

“Trust me. It’s not.”

She sighed. Her hand came back. She took the piece and David quickly bit into the candy. Tiny, hard flakes of peanut buttery sugar fell on his shirt. Amanda pretty quickly spit it out. “f*cking gross. It felt like it scraped the top of my mouth.”

“That’s the coconut flakes,” David helpfully replied with a full, crunchy mouth.

She snorted. Shot him an incredulous look over her shoulder. David grinned back. A half laugh escaped her lips again. She shook her head. “Well at least you’re enjoying that sh*t.”

“Thanks, Amanda. Seriously. It’s a nice surprise.”

“f*cking whatever.”

He wasn’t hurt by her response. Considering the usual bite in her tone was gone, David took it as a win. The rain continued to fall around them. “Thanks anyways.”

“Before you leave, this upcoming weekend is my weekend with Diana,” Lawrence said.

“Right. I remember you mentioning that.” Adam shook out his arms.

“Are you nervous?”

“About Diana? No. Naw. It’s a kid and from what you’ve said, she’s an angel. She’ll fall in love with me.” Despite Adam’s words and joking tone, he stopped walking. Lawrence eventually stopped too. He looked back.

“We don’t have to do this.”

“You have a drugged up cop and a criminal informant already in there. We kind of have to do something,” whispered Adam.

“I’ll handle it. You can wait in the car. If you want.”

Adam swallowed. His eyes slowly roamed down the hallway. He didn’t remember ever seeing it. He would have been unconscious on both occasions. When Amanda rolled him in on a palate and William carried him out in his arms. It couldn’t hurt him though. It was just a stupid hallway. Despite that, the panic began to rise in his chest. He knew what was waiting for him at the end. No. No! He was stronger than this. He could do this.

He jolted when he realized Lawrence had come back up to him. Adam leaned into the hand that cupped his cheek. The slow evolution of their relationship hadn’t been surprising. Not when thoughts of crawling inside the other’s chest cavity came naturally. In some ways, the nature wasn’t even sexual. Not in the conventional sense. Adam just needed Lawrence at his side. He’d sew them together if he could. An ironic thought considering what was waiting for them on the other side of the door.

When Lawrence had finally left to go back to work, the separation had been like cutting off a limb. An analogy Lawrence had only agreed with, having the personal experience to back it up. Visiting was good. Talking on the phone was good. This vacation where they’d spent days together, gone out to eat, visited the park, hunted Halloran and Munsen, had been good. It wasn’t enough though. Would Lawrence move practice? Would Adam come back to the city that had nearly ended his life? Neither were certain of what they wanted yet. What the best move was. Just that they would be together. They had to be.

Such talk was for a later date though. For now, Adam allowed himself a moment. His eyes slipped shut. He held Lawrence’s hand against his cheek. Sighed as Lawrence’s thumb gently stroked his skin. Adam turned. He kissed his palm before his eyes slid open.

“I’m ready.”

“You’re certain?”

“Yes.”

Lawrence smiled. The idea had been all his. This place was as much a part of Lawrence as it was Adam. Because of that, Adam equally deserved a say in what to do with the place. Let it rot away? Or overcome it? Take the pain and trauma and twist it into control and security? Lawrence left Adam’s side. He turned around. He walked to the heavy, sliding door. He pulled it back. The room was barely lit by the green glow of the hallway. Lawrence flicked on the lights.

A slow, steady breath left Adam’s lips.

He walked into the bathroom. His gaze easily found the corpse on the other side. William had said it was Detective Tapp. Amanda and Lawrence had later confirmed it. The body could have so easily been Adam. There was Zep. The first act of blood Adam had shed. A glance to Lawrence’s decayed foot. The screams felt fresh despite how the only noise in the room was the low hum of electricity.

And finally, Adam’s eyes found the two bodies in the center. The game was an evolution of his and Lawrence’s own. Rather than apart and unable to touch, the two would be stuck together. Rather than not knowing the other, at least at first, they would be painfully aware of the other’s importance. A corrupt cop and the criminal who’d been repeatedly set free simply for the cop’s benefit regardless of how many people the criminal continued to harm. Adam was curious if Detective Halloran and Edgar Munsen would make it out alive, but that wasn’t really the point of this game. Was it? It was a circle. Starting at the end. Ending at the beginning. Becoming what had destroyed Adam and taking hold of it and molding it by his own hands.

Munsen was still on the palate Lawrence had used to drag him and all the necessary equipment into the room. Halloran was already on the floor.

“Help me down?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Adam moved forward. He helped Lawrence get on the floor. There hadn’t been a chance to perform this part of the game earlier. The shirts of both men were already removed. Lawrence checked various things before injecting both again. Then came the needle and thread. Sewing the two together and sealing their shared fate.

“Hold his arm just there for me, Adam.”

“Here?”

“Thank you.”

The longer Adam was in the room, the easier it became to breathe. They set up the game. The tape. The clues. The pair were left in the center. Blood welling up around the fresh stitches that tied muscle to muscle. When everything was done, Adam took a step back. He took in the bathroom and all the memories it held. He wasn’t the victim anymore. He would never allow himself to be the victim again.

He leaned his head against Lawrence’s shoulder.

“Ready?” Lawrence softly asked.

“Thank you for this.”

Lawrence put his hand on the back of Adam’s neck. Steady and firm. His doctor. His calm, collected doctor. No longer a delusion or a desperate cry but really and truly his. Adam turned into him for a moment. His nose pressed into Lawrence’s neck. He breathed him in. Kissed Lawrence’s jawline.

“Best to leave now before either wakes up.”

Adam nodded in agreement. And then–

They left.