As I say on my profile, I LOVE Saw SLASH with Adam and Lawrence. This is my first fic, so be gentle, or I'll send evil spirits after you... or something. Also, for the sake of finality, I guess I'll put on a disclaimer: I don't own Saw, because if I did, Saw II, Saw III, and any other sequels that they felt like making would all be about Adam and Lawrence doing things to one another. That said, enjoy my smut. It would be nice if you reviewed, too.

X X X X X X X X X X

He has to talk to him today. He has to. But he knows he won't be able to. He never can. The moment he sees him, his knees tremble and his voice leave him. The moment his strong, reassuring arms are around him and his warm, eager lips are pressed fervently against his own, Adam's body just seems to dissolve in an instant.

"You have to die."

Lawrence, his face pale from pain and blood-loss, clutches the gun in his hand as though it is all he has left in the world.

"Hey, Adam."

Lawrence stands in the doorway of the photographer's apartment, several grocery bags in his arms and a friendly smile on his face. And, just like every other time when the surgeon arrives like this, Adam's voice deserts him completely, and all he can do is grin back, trying to hide the anxiety in his expression.

"No! I wanna live! I wanna live!"

Desperately, Adam moves from left to right, trying to throw off the other man's aim. But Lawrence keeps it. He does not falter.

As always, the words he wants to say leave his throat the moment Lawrence's strong arms pull him into a tight embrace. Adam doesn't resist as the older man pushes him backwards, into his own room and onto his own bed. He doesn't try to push him off. He doesn't pull away when Lawrence's soft, gentle lips connect with his own, and eventually coax the younger man to open his mouth and allow the other man's tongue to enter.

"It's for my family..."

Lawrence's tone is low, and there are tears in his eyes. But are they because of his family's obvious peril, or Adam's?

As always, Adam's heart begins to pound faster and faster as Lawrence's hands push in under his shirt and feel the tender and trembling skin there. As always, his penis begins to stiffen when the surgeon's warm, enticing hand strokes it.

"I'm sorry..."

Lawrence's voice is sincere, but there is desperation and murder in his eyes.

As always, Adam does nothing to stop Lawrence, as his kisses get harder and his strokes get faster, because it just feels too good. As the younger man begins to reach his climax, his mind, temporarily, leaves him.

Bang.

As always, within just a few short minutes, Adam is coming hopelessly into the older man's hand, and his breathing is fast and strained. Then, his mind is slowly beginning to return to him, and he is able to think again, which isn't always a good thing.

Hot, white, blinding pain. This must be death, surely. Nothing in life could feel so unearthly and agonizing.

Adam feels used. He feels that Lawrence only comes to see him now because of the unrequited sexual gestures at home, where he still lives. He won't leave his family, and Adam daren't ask him to.

He's lying on the ground, facedown. He's terrified, and he's hurting. Amazingly, he's not just scared for himself; he's also scared for Lawrence, despite what he just did to him.

He loves Lawrence. More than anything, he loves him. He's all Adam has. And the fact that the surgeon obviously doesn't feel the same way about him, that he has a wife and daughter, whom, despite everything, he loves and wants to stay with, is enough to make the photographer cry himself to sleep almost every night he's alone. The fact that Lawrence shot him, with the intent to kill, for the sake of his family, emotionally destroys the younger man. It hurts him even more to think that the older man would likely do it again, and again, and again, if he had to.

"I have to go get help... If I don't get help... I'm going to bleed to death."

Lawrence's voice is trembling so much, Adam can hardly make out the words. But he does. More tears come into his eyes and he clings to the other man like he never has to anyone before.

"No! Don't leave me! No!"

His voice is terrified, and he makes no effort to hide it. He can't be left here alone, he can't. Lawrence averts his eyes, which are filled with pain and tears, from Adam's and begins to crawl away from him, and the freelance photographer finds himself sobbing even harder. Desperately, he tries to reach out and grab him again, but by now he's beyond his reach. After crawling a few more meters, Lawrence turns to face him again.

"Don't worry. I'll bring someone back. I promise."

Adam can't speak. He's on his stomach, still reaching out as far as he can for the other man. As Lawrence begins moving again, though, Adam manages to find his voice, only for a moment, to call after him.

"Lawrence! Lawrence..."

The surgeon turns. His face is a deathly white, but he's still the most comforting thing Adam has had for as long as he can remember. And, he wants to tell him this. He wants to tell him how much he means to him, how much he has grown to care for him in the few hours that they've been together. He wants to tell him that he loves him. But he can't. The words leave him as he opens his mouth to say them, and all that manages to come out is:

"We gonna be okay?"

His voice sounds pleading and desperate, not like him at all. His shoulders are shaking with anguished sobs, and a horrible feeling of loneliness and despair is beginning to build up inside him. In his blurred vision, he sees Lawrence's beautiful face, determined, sincere, as he replies, in barely a whisper:

"I wouldn't lie to you."

And then he is gone, leaving Adam alone. Alone and sobbing in that terrible place.

Adam and Lawrence had met, under the most unexpected and horrible of circumstances. Adam had been a freelance photographer; random people paid him to follow unfortunate individuals from whom they suspected foul play. Lawrence had been cheating on his wife with a student of his, although that was not exactly the kind of "foul" play that the guy who'd paid him to follow the older man had suspected.

The two had then been kidnapped, by an infamous "serial killer" known as Jigsaw. Although he was referred to as a murderer, Jigsaw did not technically a kill any of his victims; the sufferers always had a chance to survive the situation, although it always involved either extremely dangerous or self-mutilating actions. In the case of Adam and Lawrence, the two had been chained to opposite sides of a dilapidated and abandoned bathroom, and each given a hacksaw, not strong enough to saw through the chains that bound them, but strong enough to saw through the foot that was shackled.

Lawrence had been given a specific task; to kill Adam. He had only had a certain amount of time to do this, and if he didn't, he had soon found, his wife and daughter would be killed, and the two of them would be left in the room to rot. Adam had had the choice of sawing through his foot to escape his apparent fate, but he hadn't been able to. In the end, it had been Lawrence who had disfigured himself in order to get to the gun in the middle of the room, clutched by an apparent corpse, that had previously been out of his reach, and shot his cellmate, with the intent to kill. But Adam hadn't died; Lawrence's aim had been slightly off, and he had ended up with just a small, albeit painful, wound on his right shoulder.

Soon after, Adam had killed the man that they had both believed to be responsible for putting them there, Zep, and Lawrence had left him to find help for them both. Shortly after the surgeon had left, however, the "corpse" in the middle of the room, the one that had been clutching the perpetrating gun, had gotten up from the floor and revealed himself to be the real Jigsaw. Adam had tried to shoot him, but had been stunned momentarily with electricity, and Jigsaw had escaped.

Adam had really thought then that he was doomed. He'd thought that he was going to die, horribly; slowly, alone, and forgotten.

But Lawrence had made good on his promise. Help had come, and Adam had been freed. Despite the fact that Jigsaw had escaped, leaving Adam to rot in a place not so far from being Hell, he hadn't done anything to stop Lawrence. Perhaps he'd thought that the surgeon would never make it, that he would never manage to get help for the other man. But he had. And he'd lived, too. He was so much stronger than the photographer could ever dream to be. He'd cared about his family; he'd wanted to see them again. And... he'd cared about Adam; he'd wanted to keep his promise to him.

Adam had then experienced the three sweetest moments in his life, barely one week apart from one another.

The first was when he'd been woken, barely alive, by a heavily-armed SWAT team member. He remembers that, once the initial shock was over, how relieved and grateful he was. The SWAT team had already made short work of the chain around his ankle, and they had then taken him outside, to the hallway, for which he was very thankful, to wait for an ambulance, as Adam had been unable to climb the ladder leading out of the base level in his condition. He remembers thinking, as he waited with a few of the more sympathetic members of the SWAT team: How could Lawrence have climbed this thing, in the condition he was in?

The second-sweetest memory was approximately one week later, when he and Lawrence had both been well enough to see one another. Adam remembers the blissful feeling of relief and love he'd felt when he'd seen the surgeon, propped up by many pillows, his severed ankle heavily bandaged, lying in a hospital bed and smiling at him. He remembers breaking down in the older man's arms as the fear and terror he'd struggled to compress for over a week welled up inside him again. He remembers the feeling of Lawrence's strong arms around him, and his gentle voice whispering to him that everything was okay.

The third-sweetest memory had taken place only one day after he'd been reunited with Lawrence. The two of them, Adam remembers, had been in Lawrence's hospital bed, although Adam had been outside the covers and Lawrence had been under them, talking quietly. Adam had had his head rested against the other man's chest, and Lawrence had had his right arm around him in a kind of embrace. Then the door had been pulled open without so-much as a warning knock and Jason Martin, a member of the SWAT team, one of the few who had taken the time to comfort Adam when they'd found him, had rushed in, grinning. Adam and Lawrence had quickly disentangled themselves from one another, their faces flushing, but Jason had appeared to be too happy to notice. The words that had left his mouth after that would stay with the two surviving victims for the rest of their lives:

"We've got Jigsaw. Well, his body, anyway. He tried to run, but we opened fire. He now has more holes than an arcade Whack-A-Mole game."

Adam can remember the feeling of pure relief and happiness he'd felt at these words, and just as well, he can remember Lawrence embracing him, and the two of them half-sobbing, half-laughing in a mixture of relief and suppressed fear. He remembers Jason's "boyfriend" joke at their hugging, remembers that they'd both been too happy and relieved to care.

Adam opened his eyes blearily, completely and utterly drained. Lawrence lay beside him, his naked body pressed hard against the younger man's, his breathing heavy and peaceful. Adam sighed and wrapped his arms slightly more tightly around his lover, trying without success to ease some of the growing displeasure and hurt that he was feeling. He loved Lawrence. He loved him more than anything in the world, including himself.

Just being with him for a few hours a day should have been enough, but the two really didn't see each other as often as they once had. Lawrence was far busier now than he had been when they'd first been rescued. He had a fulltime job and a wife and child to support, not to mention an extremely fancy house to pay off. Nowadays, Adam was lucky if he even saw the surgeon once a week.

When he was with Lawrence, most of the time, Adam actually felt at peace with the world, like everything might just be okay. But as soon as the older man left and he was on his own again, he felt nothing but despair, despair that was growing rapidly every day, getting bad enough to actually make Adam consider suicide on a regular basis.

"I love you so much..." the young man breathed, so quietly that there was no way that Lawrence would have heard him, even if he had been awake. But even when he was awake and Adam said those words, or ones similar to them, the surgeon never replied with the same ones. He'd never said that he loved the photographer back. Never, in the whole time that he'd known him, which was going close to a year.

And it was that thought, among others, that kept Adam awake and crying most nights when he was alone, and he was alone at least six out of seven.

The person I love more than anyone doesn't even give two shits about me.

Suicide really didn't seem like such a bad idea these days.

X X X X X X X X X X

Don't worry, everyone! Adam will NOT be committing suicide. He and Lawrence will be happy together eventually in this fic (and all my other Adam/Lawrence ones, come to that). I just like angst and hurt/comfort. I'll update this fic, and the many others that I have planned, as regularly as I can. Until then, it'd be really swell if ya'll could clickie on that little button just below this and tell me what you think...