This is an Amanda/Hoffman 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.
Please expect spoilers for all of the movies, and if you have not seen them, you may be confused.
And of course, this is still Saw, so expect blood. I'll give warnings before every chapter if there will be explicit sexual or violent scenes. And on that note, this chapter will involve a little of both. PG-13. There will be more explicit stuff later, so if that bothers you, maybe you should find something else to read. Also, 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
Detective Eric Matthews slammed his fist on the table. Two drinks shook as the force vibrated through the flat surface. The files stacked on the desk nearly toppled over. He had never been one to contain his rage, nor was he equipped to 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. Somehow, they know…Someone must have snitched. Someone in the department, maybe. I don't know. All I know is that 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 and rubbed the tears out of his eyes. Eric tried to hold it together. Not for the sake of pride, but because 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 privilege.
Mark hesitated with his next words, careful not to say something to bring him over the edge. Throughout 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 and was 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?" Mark asked.
"It might be more than just suspicion. 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. Then he grabbed Eric by his shirt, his anger making him lose all discretion.
"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 agitated 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 stability for Eric when had none. He saved Eric from taking his state-issued gun and putting it in his own mouth and pulling the trigger— or from sticking his weapon in the face of some child molester 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. Except for that one time…
Then Eric knew exactly what Mark was thinking behind those quivering, livid eyes.
Almost as quickly as it had happened, he released Eric 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 single one. Every junkie, dealer, rapist, murderer that I put away. They're going to try to see if I planted evidence on them too. Try 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. 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. Prior convictions, history of violent behavior— not to mention he killed a detective's sister—"
"Which is 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 by 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 one that came up to me and begged for my help. You 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 and 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.
Now it had come back to haunt them. It took five years, but it had finally come back to them.