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It’s been a long four months since the Jigsaw trap. Amanda helping him break his foot and bringing him to the local hospital. Four months of medical debt and crutches and begging his landlord for a second chance and going back to his job of being a ‘bottom feeder’ because he desperately needed money. Truth be told, he wasn’t happy and he probably wouldn’t ever be happy.
When not at work - standing behind anything that could keep him covered - he sat outside the door to his apartment and smoked. He smoked full packets of cigarettes in one sitting, letting the warm air burn his lungs and then becoming one with the sky. It was the only relief that he ever felt.
Razors were another thing, a small teenage habit that he’d kicked when he’d moved out, he began doing it again. There was a numbness that he’d never felt before, he needed the pain so he could actually feel something. He didn’t need to eat anymore and he was either not sleeping at all or sleeping too much, even music didn’t give him the same emotions. Cutting hurt. It hurt and he was glad because it meant that for once he could actually feel something.
Adam Stanheight - a massive fuck-up - a boy still trying to make it through life.
Run down apartment in a shitty area of New Jersey, pictures hung in the bathroom where the door was always kept slightly open. He hated his apartment, hated it so much that he’d give the world to move out. He wished for somewhere with less mould and where the walls were more stable and he could play music without every other apartment listening to it. Being poor was a curse.
—
Going back to stalking Lawrence isn’t something that he planned on doing. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it until he went to the hospital ward that Lawrence worked on. He didn’t have his camera with him then but now he didn’t leave the house without it. He was always snapping pictures and he always knew where Lawrence was. The man lived a predictable life. Coffee shops and hospital wards, divorce apartment and expensive supermarket.
He stalks his actual client and then goes to stalk Lawrence. He’s better than he used to be at keeping hidden. There’s no noticeable camera light this time.
And the pictures develop and he looks so attractive - so attractive he’d never complain about any medical malpractice if he was under the doctors care. He’s been attracted to people before, been in awe of people on the street and had relationships with people that he thought would last forever but they’ve never given him the same lust that Lawrence has. He wants Lawrence.
Adam doesn’t even feel conscious when he sinks into the mattress and begins pulling his clothes down. Fingers finding his clit, rubbing in circles as he imagines Lawrence on top of him, putting his cock into Adam and thrusting until Adam feels like he’s about to pass out. “Lawrence…….please…..faster.” He begs.
He imagines Lawrence filling him with his cum until it’s dripping out onto his thigh. “Fuck.” He tips over into his own orgasm, rubbing so hard that his wrist begins to hurt and then his body begins to squirm. The pleasure dries away and turns into shame.
—
Adam has never been described as intelligent. He barely made it through high school and then he was running off to lower class jobs that didn’t pay well. Stalking was immoral but the money sometimes worked out. Nobody he knew would describe him as smart but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t notice things.
He kept up with Jigsaw's victims, it gave him comfort to know that people were going through the same pain that he’d been through. He noticed things. People Lawrence were speaking to or doing weird research about ending up in the news as missing people. Would it be stupid to assume…
After his kid had been kidnapped. Would he really?
Amanda had also been Jigsaw's apprentice after the reverse bear trap but she wouldn’t have lost anything but her life if she had failed. It pisses Adam off so much that he wants to go to some bar and start a fight with someone but he’s lost so much weight that he’d be killed. So he walks home and develops his pictures and then he grabs a razor and sees how deep he can go.
And it’s deep. He gives himself stitches because he can’t afford medical bills. Really, he wanted to cut his entire body open but there was some restraint to it all.
—
He decides that the stalking is getting old - he’s getting ready to meet the man who shot him and left him to die in the dingy bathroom. He waits outside the man's car, one of those posh cars that cost twice his yearly rent. They aren’t even particularly good cars but they give the illusion of wealth so they’re respected.
“Lawrence, long time no see.” He has one of those smirks on his face that say he’s up to trouble. Lawrence looks like a deer in the headlights.
It’s Lawrence alright, holding a cane and wearing a prosthesis. “Adam? You’re still alive.”
“I thought I’d give you a visit, we could catch up.”
Lawrence looks uncomfortable, like the kind of uncomfortable where it’s clear that he hasn’t been killing himself with guilt at the thought of leaving him to rot. Turns out being a doctor doesn’t stop someone from being a dickhead. “What is there to talk about?”
“I saw you the other day and it raised my suspicions. You were talking to two people who have recently turned up as Jigsaw’s victims. It looked like you were working for him?”
“Adam, what do you want to know?” He sounds too casual, more annoyed than anything, no care in the world for the death of people.
“I want to know if you’re working for him?”
“I’m one of his apprentices, is that what you want to know? It doesn’t have anything to do with you. He showed me that I was being uncaring and unkind. He’s teaching people to appreciate their life.”
Anger eats at his body until he feels like he could explode like the sun will eventually do - destroying the solar system in its way.
“You’re actually grateful for him. He kidnapped your daughter, he forced you to shoot me and what about me? Don’t you care that he would have left me there to starve to death if it wasn’t for Amanda?” Adam shouts. “I mean why the fuck would you become his apprentice?” Angry tears are falling down his face.
“He showed me that I wasn’t caring enough for my family. He opened my eyes.”
And Adam looks into his eyes and realises that Lawrence is being genuinely truthful. He can feel his scars rubbing against the hoodie and they really fucking hurt. Everything hurts. “What about me Lawrence? What about me?” He stops rubbing the tears from his eyes.
“And I’m sorry that happened to you.” The tone is so mocking that Adam feels fury begin to form inside of him. Before he knows it, his fist is on Lawrence’s face and he’s smashed his nose.
“I can tell that you’re angry but you don’t need to blame me.” He says in that stupid calm doctor tone that enrages Adam even more.
“Fuck you! I hope I never see you again!” He shouts, shaking his head to try and subsidise the pain. He walks off, back to his apartment and Lawrence doesn’t follow.
He’s back to stalking Lawrence the next day.
—
He daydreams about calling Scott and telling him - telling him about the bathroom and Lawrence and Jigsaw and punching Lawrence in the face. Scott wouldn’t care, he’s too egotistical. He goes to a wrath of gods gig and wonders how he and Scott had managed to stay connected for so long. He couldn’t stay connected now. The music wasn’t all that great either.
The pictures of Lawrence have finished developing, the ones with the bruise on his face. Looking at them delights him.
For the first time in weeks he feels actually hungry and he finds himself with some notes in the pockets of his jeans so he enters a supermarket and goes straight to the bakery section. Maybe his body needs something actually nutritional but he buys a funfetti cake with vanilla frosting instead and practically salivates as he walks home holding it.
He grabs a teaspoon from the kitchen and begins devouring it like a starved dog that’s been given a piece of steak. It’s greedy. Spoonful after spoonful, feeling his body become full - a feeling that was foreign to his body. Adam’s too weak to actually finish the cake, he only makes it halfway. He leans his head back and begins to feel ill, nauseous. His body is finally getting food and now it’s rejecting said food.
Adam runs off to the bathroom, making it just in time to spill his guts into the toilet bowl, leaning over until his back hurts and he’s heaving but nothing is coming out. On the tip of his tongue he can taste the vanilla frosting and he’s reminded of his sixth birthday when he was stabbed with the rusty nail. Then he can taste blood and he remembers Lawrence and the hand on his cheek.
He flushes the toilet, washes his hands and his mouth. Then he goes to his bedroom and lies on his bed touching himself. Lawrence is on top of him, holding him down and forcing him to take it. He’s a dog in heat. And he cums over and over until his body is wrecked and he can do nothing but fall asleep. Adam dreams of Lawrence shooting him, it’s starting to feel romantic.
—
The truth is: watching someone cut their own foot off does wonders for a person's appetite. He stopped eating meat - even the processed burgers at mcdonald’s were vile enough to make him lean over a toilet bowl and gag. His diet was lukewarm fries and whatever food looked appetising enough to slide down his throat. He buys jello and bags of apples that he can only stomach half of.
And he watches - watches as his body becomes womanly, like the celebrities being skinny shamed in the magazines. All collarbones and chest bones and hip bones and ribs. He’s almost certain that one fall would break a bone. And yet all the food in the fridge somehow ends up filling up the bin instead.
—
The best place to stalk is at the hospital, maybe he has a thing for Lawrence in the white coat. Camera in hand and cigarettes in his pockets, standing next to Lawrence’s car.
“You’re not as hidden as you think you are.” Lawrence says, still in that white coat and about to get into said stupidly expensive car. “Why are you still doing this?”
“Force of habit.” Adam replies, body still hidden in the shadows. “You live a really predictable life.”
“I thought you said that you never wanted to see me again.”
“Things change.” He steps into the light now, scruffy clothes and scruffy hair and sad little eyes. A deer in the headlights almost. Lawrence can’t help but want him.
“Come home with me, just for the night?” He offers.
Adam doesn’t verbally accept the offer but he opens up the car door on the passenger side and steps inside. “Maybe you’re the one who can’t get enough of me.” He eventually says.
The drive to his apartment is a measly fifteen minutes in which Adam stares out of the window and wishes for a cigarette. He wants to cry and he doesn’t know why he wants to cry. Maybe it’s because he feels so pathetic and the guy he’s literally stalking has decided to sympathise with him even after being punched in the face. Adam’s knuckles still hurt.
It’s a third floor apartment, a typical two bedroom with ugly yet expensive furniture. Lawrence takes his doctor's coat off and then pounces at Adam. It’s better than his imagination. All tongue and teeth and he can’t help but whimper as he feels his entire body become hot. Lawrence’s dick grinds against him and he swears he could orgasm right there.
Lawrence brings him to the bedroom and forces him down on the bed, they both begin to strip. “You’re so wet for me.”
And what is there to say? That it was better than all his clit rubbing fantasies. That the feeling of being filled up with Lawrence’s cum was the worlds greatest gift. That he’d never moaned so much in his life. That he would have let Lawrence tie him up and do anything to him. That he wanted to stay there for eternity being fucked over and over.
After they’re done Lawrence licks his shoulder wound, pressing his lips to the scar. He doesn’t apologise though, he recognises it as a means to an end.
—
Adam doesn’t mean for it to become a habit. He doesn’t mean to start enjoying it. But he begins to wait for Lawrence to finish his shift, for Lawrence it’s a way to blow off steam. Adam doesn’t know what it is to him - he knows that it feels good and sometimes that’s enough.
Lawrence pins him on the bed and kisses his scars and leaves marks on his neck and sometimes lets him stay the night. Adam steals a jumper - he doesn’t even wear jumpers but the air is cold in Jersey and sometimes cigarettes aren’t enough to stay warm. It’s so oversized that it doesn’t make him look too put together. He has a toothbrush in Lawrence’s bathroom.
“I think you’re starting to like me.” He teases.
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
—
Life falls into a steady routine. A steady routine of fucked up sleep and horrific flashbacks and that damn razor and no food but a full packet of cigarettes. His mood is erratic and most of his money is going to milk and cans of tuna for the stray cats that are numbering because he’s the only person who gives them attention. His body feels like it’s shutting down.
He turns twenty six and starts to feel like an old man living like a fucked up teenager - he’s only twenty six but most people his age have relationships and ‘real’ jobs. Some have rings on their fingers and children on the way. How the fuck did it all end up like this?
That passive want for death has always lingered but now it’s becoming a forefront in his life. He should have been left to rot in that bathroom. Fucking Amanda, she shouldn’t have bothered saving him.
—
The first time Lawrence comes over to his apartment is completely by surprise. He gives Lawrence his address one night when they’re laying in bed because he wants Lawrence to come over and see who he really is.
It’s one of those days - one of those days where he’s numb and everything feels dead and he can feel his shoulder aching. The razor is easy, he likes watching the blood drip down onto his tap. There’s a lot more cuts today than usual, he can’t explain why, he can feel the disappointment of his younger self. “Fuck.” He whispers as he hears a knock on the door.
He grabs the white towel that he uses to wash his hands and places it over his arm before walking over to the door. He certainly doesn’t expect Lawrence to be the one on the other end. “The fuck do you want?”
“You gave me your address so I thought I’d visit.” It doesn’t sound like Lawrence speaking, Adam isn’t certain that his senses are working as they should be. “Why is that towel covered in blood? You haven’t.” He sounds disappointed and ashamed. “Let me in, I’ll stop the bleeding.”
Adam thinks he might be laughing but he lets Lawrence in, taking him into the bathroom. “Don’t turn the light on, my pictures are still developing.”
“Why are you doing this to yourself?” He questions as he runs the tap and gently places the bloody arm under the water. “You told me that you wanted to live!” and he sounds genuinely devastated.
“I’m not trying to kill myself. This is just something I do when I need an outlet.” It’s the only explanation he can offer because even he doesn’t understand the compulsion.
“You need to see someone, like a psychiatrist.” He comments as he rubs antiseptic onto the cuts,
“Are you worried about me?” Adam asks with a sickening kind of smile, it’s almost arousing. Nobody has ever cared about him like this before.
Lawrence searches around the bathroom - attempting to ignore the pictures of himself - and begins searching through the drawers. “Do you have any bandages?” He asks.
Adam points to the bottom drawer, they’re shoved right to the back.
“If Jigsaw saw all the cutting he’d put you in another saw trap.” Lawrence comments as he tenderly wraps the bandage around Adam’s arm.
“Are you going to put me in another trap?” And he looks at Lawrence right in the face with those dead but loving eyes. “Would you leave me to die again, after promising to save me?”
“I wouldn’t do that to you but other people aren’t so nice.”
Adam pulls him down and kisses him, mainly because he isn’t sure what else to do and also because he’s never been so cared for before. Lawrence returns the kiss but he’s also the one to pull away first. Adam is left aching for more.
He wishes he could be wanted.
—
He stalks Lawrence and then enters through the passenger door to his apartment, they always end up having sex. Adam is stuffed with cum that slowly drips down his thighs and feeling high - like he’s injected a litre of cocaine into his body. It’s the only time that feels something. He craves it everyday but spreads it out instead, using his fingers to do the rest of the work. It never feels as good.
And as he feels Lawrence thrust in and out, ready to reach his orgasm, all he can think is how he wishes that Lawrence had shot him in the heart instead.
His eyes roll to the back of his head and he’s making all these extra pornographic noises for no reason more than amusement. He likes it when Lawrence finds him annoying.
“How did you even learn to make noises like that?” Lawrence asks.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” And he gives Lawrence that stupid snarky smile.
—
Adam wakes up in the middle of the night and swears that his shoulder is bleeding. He can feel the blood pouring down and staining the hoodie that he sleeps in. He screams and swears until his mouth feels like it’s being ripped open and only then does he touch the shoulder. Through the heavy movements of his body he can feel the scar. It’s not bleeding, his wrist is slightly bleeding but his shoulder isn’t.
He doesn’t move out of bed and the feeling that the wound has opened doesn’t disappear either. He drifts again, face scrunched in pain, and dreams that he’s in the bathroom. Lawrence leaves and he doesn’t come back, Amanda isn’t there either. He’s hungry and thirsty and scared and bloody and he needs to break free from the chains. Maybe he dies in there but he wakes up in his apartment instead.
He can’t say what he wants more - Lawrence or a razor but he has Lawrence’s phone number so he calls anyway. He has to call three times before Lawrence picks out, he’s annoying like that.
“Adam, why are you calling?” He says instead of a nice and respectful greeting.
“I had a weird dream.” Lawrence doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even go into doctor mode and attempt to speak calmly. “I was in that bathroom and Amanda didn’t come to save me. It was so strange, I really felt dead.”
“Why didn’t you come back and save me or at least tell someone where I was? You know, like you promised.” Adam asks.
“I was bleeding out and completely delirious. I had no idea where we were kept.” Lawrence says, truthful and honest.
“Maybe don’t make promises to people if you aren’t going to keep them!” He hangs up, he can’t stand Lawrence.
—
The truth is that Lawrence means everything to him. The bullet is technically still stuck in his shoulder and all the words spoken that fateful day reel through his mind. He can’t stand to be apart from Lawrence, it’s like there’s a hole in his chest. The rule of his game is to never get attached to clients - he got attached once the job ended so it doesn’t mean anything now.
He wants to move all of his stuff to Lawrence’s apartment and let Lawrence cut his body open and keep him locked in the apartment unable to ever go outside. He wants Lawrence to use him like he’s a doll and treat him like a dog and torture him like the weak human that he is.
Even his fantasies aren’t enough to satisfy his needs.
—
“Come round tomorrow, once you’ve finished all the stalking.”
And he hates Lawrence - really hates him - but he still goes anyway.
Fingers inside of his cunt, thrusting in and out and in and out until he’s wide and Lawrence wants to truly pleasure him. Adam lays on the bed and stays on his back. When their lips aren’t together he’s looking Lawrence right in the eyes and he feels so sensitive. So sensitive that tears actually fall out of his eyes when he orgasms and when Lawrence cums inside of him the sperm begins to feel a lot like blood.
He keeps his thighs tightly together and feels dirty and delirious.
“You’re so mean to me.” Adam says afterwards as he wishes for a cigarette. “You only like me when you can get me in bed.” His speech is sort of slurred.
“And yet you still come around.” He should probably be denying it, it should be a dealbreaker that he isn’t. Instead they go for a second round.
“I have needs and you happen to be talented in bed.” In that kind of ‘don’t blame me’ voice.
—
He wakes up covered in blood, the hoodie that he's wearing is stained and the bedsheets are stained and his hair is matted with the crimson. When he cries in the shower his tears are blood and when he tries to drink some water it tastes like smashing Zepp with the toilet bowl lid. He feels dirty and sick. Carrie White if she was a late twenties guy being tortured not by people but by their own ridiculous choices.
And he finally accepts it. Maybe he’s alive and breathing and getting to the end of every day but his soul is still chained to the pipe in the bathroom. He’s in purgatory for killing and he’s screaming at Lawrence to come back and save him.
—
There’s a bench outside the hospital. Adam sits and smokes and thinks and feels the scars on his arm rub against his flannel. He’s waiting for Lawrence, he’s always waiting for Lawrence. He hasn’t even spoken to anyone else since making it out the bathroom - other than quick conversations with those who need his work - which is probably causing most of his problems but he ignores any thoughts like that.
He spots the blond hair instantaneously, looks directly in his eyeline and notices the blond man coming to him. “Didn’t bother with the camera today?” and Adam smiles.
“I want to talk to you actually.”
“Yeah?” They don’t have real conversations, they both hate each other’s lines of work and their class lifestyles are too different to actually get along. It’s better to just shut down any conversations for the sake of keeping a voice.
“I know you’re still working for Jigsaw, I want you to put me in another one of his games.” He says it casually, like he’s asking for directions to a ward in the hospital or a specific aisle in the supermarket.
“What on earth are you talking about? Why would I ever do that to you?” Lawrence is all wide-eyed and outraged. Adam thinks that it’s actually kind of cute.
“I don’t want to be here - alive - anymore and I keep cutting. I’m so ungrateful to be alive. Isn’t that why he puts people in his games?” He takes a drag off the cigarettes, eyes avoiding Lawrence.
“Sometimes.” They don’t speak for a few moments, it could be minutes or it could be seconds. “I’m really worried about you. I worry that I’m never going to see you again. You should be on suicide watch.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me though, right?”
“Come home with me, stay with me for the night.” Lawrence holds his hand when they stand up, even opens the car door for him. Adam thinks that this is it. They’ll get in bed and Lawrence will start to choke him and he won’t remove his hands and he’ll turn white and his death wish will be a reality. Adam should know that his death will be more brutal than that.