This is an Amanda/Hoffman centered fanfic. It will involve them in a romantic and sexual way, so you were warned. It will also include others from Saw, especially Eric Matthews, Kerry, John, Art Blanc, and other characters from the Saw series.

Expect spoilers for all of the movies, and if you have not seen them, especially IV and V, expect to be confused.

And of course, this is still Saw, so expect blood. I'll give warnings before every chapter if their will be explicit sexual or violent scenes. And on that note, this chapter will involve a little of both…PG-13. Expect more explicit stuff later. So if that bothers you, maybe you should find something else to read. And oh yeah, I don't own Saw or any part of it, but if anyone knows how I can get the rights to Costas Mandylor, please let me know! ;) Anyway, enjoy! Reviews are always appreciated.

Written in Blood

Prologue

Detective Eric Matthews slammed his fist on the table, cursing and crying simultaneously. Two drinks shook as the force vibrated through the table. The files stacked on the desk nearly toppled over. He had never been one to withdrawal his rage, or deal with situations in which every available course of action led to the same undesirable result. The only thing that kept him from lifting something up and throwing it across the room was the presence of Mark Hoffman.

"Relax, Eric," he said in a quiet voice that sharply contrasted with Eric's roaring. He lowered his eyes and leaned in close to him. "Tell me more about what happened."

Eric's eyes stung with tears.

"They know, Mark. Somehow they know…someone must have snitched. Someone on the inside maybe. I don't know. All I know is, Internal Affairs is taking some goddamn drug addict's testimony over mine. Can you imagine that? I'm a cop! And he's a fucking junkie!"

He covered his face with his hands, rubbing the tears out of his eyes and trying to hold it together. Not for pride's sake, but for the fact that if he didn't, if he continued with this feeling gnawing at him, he might just grab the first thing in sight and tear it to pieces. This wasn't his house, so he didn't have that option.

Mark hesitated with his next words, careful not to say something to bring him over the edge. Over the years, he attained quite a bit of practice in managing Eric's anger, but he knew this might be too much for even him.

"Do they have any physical evidence?" Mark asked. He wanted to deviate the conversation towards anything that might help him see a solution or at least calm his friend down. He also wanted to know how far this case against Eric had developed.

"What? No. At least, I don't think so," Eric said. His voice suddenly changed. The anger mitigated, replaced by anxiety. He was trapped in a whirlwind of emotions.

"What do you mean, 'You don't think so?' What aren't you telling me Eric?" Mark asked.

"It maybe more than just suspicion, Mark. I think they might have computer records of evidence that was added much later in a case…some of the dates were mixed up."

Now Mark was the one that needed to be calmed down. He jumped up with such vigor that he knocked his chair back, and then he grabbed Eric by his shirt, his anger making him loose all discretion.

"How many times, how many fucking times have I told you to be careful?"

"I know!" Eric screamed back. Mark's reaction infuriated him, but at the same time, he felt shock. Mark could get angry on the surface, but he never had such emotion in his eyes before. Mark was the calm one, the peaceful one, the one who kept everyone else in the department sane when they were dealing with some of the vilest people in the city. Mark was the mediator between cops in disputes with each other. He provided rational for Eric when had none. He saved him from taking his state issued gun and putting it in his mouth and pulling the trigger or sticking his weapon in some child molester's face and blowing his brains out. Eric knew that if Mark wasn't there, if he wasn't Eric's conscience, he would have snapped long ago.

Eric stood there stunned. Mark had never been like this before. Not this angry, not all the way down to his core. Not except for that one time…

And then Eric knew exactly what Mark was thinking behind those quivering, livid eyes.

Angelina.

Almost as quickly as it had happened, Mark released his shirt and backed off. He rubbed his eyes as exhaustion and frustration seeped in to his consciousness. He walked back to his chair and sat. Eric sighed as the tension in the room seemed to be coming down from its pinnacle. In a calm voice he vocalized what they were both thinking.

"They are going to review all my cases now. Every one. Every junkie, dealer, rapist, murderer I put away. Trying to see if I planted evidence on them too. Trying to see if they can give them a get-out-of-jail-free-pass."

"All of them," Mark murmured.

"Yes, all of them. I know what you're thinking. Just stop it, Mark. Don't torture yourself and spend the next couple weeks with more sleepless nights. There's no way they'd let a scumbag like Seth Baxter out."

Even as Eric spoke this he knew he was purely speculating. All their years working for the law had taught them how unpredictable it could be, but Mark's solemn expression made Eric feel compelled to say something, even if he knew every word coming out of his mouth was bullshit.

"Think about it, Mark. Prior convictions, history of violent behavior- not to mention he killed a detective's sister-"

"All the more reason why they will look into it and try to get him out. You had motive because you're my friend and you were on the case. You had motive and means, and you know as well as I do that now any halfway decent defense attorney could get him released on a technicality, on account of your fuck up!"

"It wasn't my idea, Mark! You're the once that came up to me and begged for my help, put the idea in my head that if only there was more than circumstantial evidence, that we could nail him. Don't tell me you didn't know what would happen, what I would do."

Eric had him there. Mark knew exactly what he was insinuating Eric should do when he told him that if only they had something physical, some irrefutable piece of evidence, that they could ensure his conviction. He'd dropped subtle hints, did what he could to manipulate Eric's feelings to get him to do whatever it took to put his sister's murderer away.

The only thing he hadn't expected was that once Eric started, he wouldn't be able to stop.

And now it had come back to them. Five years later, but it had come back to them.