WHAPAH! I am back with another chapter, baby! School has actually been good to me, in the way that my friends are providing me with like... Tons of fic ideas. Cuz now I've got... Like six more ideas for fics. (Two of which... Crack me up...) But I'm in the mood to do something crazy and sadistic other than Heaven's A Lie, so I'mma start this idea before I start Paparazzi. It's called... Affection's Victim, and it's where Lawrence is a (psychotic) serial killer who kidnaps Adam, tortures him, but (obviously) eventually falls in love with him. So I'll start Affection's Victim after I finish Heaven's A Lie. :D For some reason, I love fics where Larry is the crazy one.

EmeraldDragon93: ...I was getting to that... XD Sit back and let me worry about all the typos. XD

misery-hates-company: XD I loved writing that part. Yay for sobbing Adam! :D

Well, this chapter is probably gonna surprise a bunch of people, but go ahead and read. XD Oh, and you know how I said there are gonna be twelve chapters? Well, I lied. This is the last chapter. Mostly because I don't know how to go on after this. XD So go ahead and read the chapter, and prepare to have your heart shattered into millions of pieces.


Chapter 10: Rebirthing

The door opens shortly after the dead silence.

Allison just got the key from Amanda's pocket, and opened the door. Now she sits on her knees, looking up at her husband, her eyes bleary and bloodshot with pink tears. Lawrence just stares at her, stares at her with the rusty, blood-covered scalpel in her left hand.

She knows what she's done. And she'd probably do it again.

Allison murdered Amanda.

Of course, Lawrence is glad that he doesn't have to watch Allison die. But Allison is such a stranger now that it wouldn't really make a difference anyways. It's just really... strange to think that Allison Maria Gordon, the woman Lawrence married and danced with for so long, the woman he kissed and made love to, the woman who conceived his daughter, just murdered another woman.

But that's Jigsaw's way, Lawrence supposes. Take a life to save your own and everything you love. After all, Jigsaw wanted him to take Adam's life to save Allison and Diana back in the bathroom.

"Larry..." Allison rasps, dropping the scalpel, looking up at him with blue eyes. Her voice is a weakened parody of its former self. A ghost. The color is fading from Allison's cheeks, and in contrast, the blood smeared on her cheek looks bright and full of life. Like it's not her blood. Most of the blood on her shirt is Amanda's, anyways.

"Ally..." Lawrence murmurs, bending down to her, wrapping his arms around her body.

Not out of love. Right now, he fucking hates her. Hates her because she had to get dragged into this, had to find out yet again that Lawrence was cheating on her for someone else.

Lawrence doesn't love her. As he hugs her, he realizes now more than ever how much they aren't mean to be. Because, pressing against her, he knows the truth. The truth is, they don't fit together the way Lawrence does with Adam. Despite everything they've been through, they don't belong together.

Allison is not right.

Lawrence is just hugging her to assure her everything's going to be okay now. He's here, they're safe, and Amanda will never be able to haunt them again. All she is is a fucking corpse lying in a puddle of her own scourge.

So Lawrence pulls away from Allison. Leaves her on the floor.

He pulls the key from the box out of his pocket, and walks to Adam's cell.

Delirious, Adam lifts his head from the floor, coughing slightly, like he barely even has enough strength left. He doesn't speak at first. How can he? There are no words to describe... Everything.

Lawrence knows he's crying again when he puts his hand over the cell lock. The tears stream down his face, and he lets out a sob as he turns the key in the lock. It sort of sounds like a chuckle.

The lock opens. The door opens.

The sobs press against Lawrence's throat, and he doesn't keep them in anymore. He can't. As he sits Adam up, wraps his arms around that small body, feeling every bone in Adam's arms, everything breaks loose. Lawrence runs the fingers of his left hand through the hair on the back of Adam's head, and Adam moans softly. "Oh, Adam..." Lawrence sobs, squeezing Adam tighter than he intends to. "My sweet little Adam, it's going to be all right, I promise you, I'm going to get you back to the hospital, you're gonna be just fine! Jigsaw won't get you again, he won't, you'll be safe in my arms forever..."

Adam's eyes widen, but he buries his face in Lawrence's neck. The worst is over now. Somehow, they'll get through this. They'll be fine somehow.

They're no fools. Not anymore, at least.

Lawrence turns his head to kiss Adam on the cheek, and is almost completely horrified when he sees Adam this close. Adam's lips are dark red, like he has lipstick on, and blood trails from the corners of his mouth. His pink tears have darkened to red, and his breathing is off, ragged, fast.

Wait. The antidote.

Right. Lawrence put the antidote in his pocket.

Lawrence takes the needle syringe out of his pocket, and he puts Adam's head to the side gently. "This is going to hurt a little, Adam, but you need to take this..." he murmurs next to Adam's ear. And before Adam can object, Lawrence injects the antidote between Adam's neck and shoulder.

Adam whimpers dejectedly, and Lawrence sobs once more, his heart sagging pitifully.

You're gonna be all right. You're just wounded.

"It's okay," Lawrence says blindly.

Adam is precious. Adam is everything.

He'll survive today. Some way. He's taken the shot, and he'll survive somehow. He's Adam Faulkner. He survived being shot in the shoulder, sitting in the dark for two days, breaking down, being schizofrenic, attempting suicide, and there's no way in hell he won't be able to survive this!

Lawrence's heart almost stops, suddenly.

Or it skips a beat.

Through his own frosty startle, he doesn't know anymore.

Adam flinches beside him. The word, "Motherfucker..." is muttered.

Oh, God.

The door between the two cells, the door across from the door Allison is sitting by, has just been opened. A tall man has just stepped out of it. He's dressed in a long, black, red-lined cloak, the hood on his head. His blue gaze sweeps around the room. His gaunt face hasn't been treated well by age.

"Jigsaw..." Adam breathes, his eyes widening to where they're practically bugging out of his head.

Adam's seen him before. It feels like years ago.

The dead body that had stood up in the middle of the room and told him that the key to his chain was in the bathtub. The man who had told how apathetic and angry he was. The man who walked within and disturbed his conscious mind. The man who had left him for dead.

Jigsaw. In the flesh. In the rotting, living flesh.

Lawrence stands up, immediately shielding Adam with his body. Instinctively. Jigsaw can take Lawrence. Tie up his limbs and rip him apart, piece by piece. Make him live in that same wet splashing that he'd lived in in that long, dark corridor.

That doesn't matter anymore.

But Adam is a fragile, tiny soul, a tiny soul bound to Lawrence. A body with a beating, emotional heart.

Fuck, no way in hell is Jigsaw going to take Adam again.

Jigsaw speaks. His voice cuts through Adam and Lawrence like a stiletto.

"Hello, Adam. Hello, Dr. Gordon."

Adam's breath shakes. Lawrence can hear it behind him.

Jigsaw doesn't even look at Amanda. He doesn't have to.

Death clings to this room like burrs stick to clothes.

"I see my apprentice is dead. But that doesn't change the fact that Allison broke the rules."

Allison stiffens on the other side of the room, panting and sitting up straight. Oh, that's right. She doesn't know. "Yeah," she says. "So what? She deserved to die."

"No one deserves to die." Jigsaw stares back at Adam and Lawrence. "Anyways, judging by the things I've seen tonight, you two obviously love each other very much. Lawrence, you love Adam even though he drove you over a brink. You love him even though he tried to commit suicide right in front of you."

"That's the truth," Lawrence growls firmly, nodding.

"And Adam, you love Lawrence, even though he lied to you, even though he left you in the dark. You love him even though he already has a family. You love him even though his world rules far above yours."

"And I suppose you know everything now," Adam hisses under his breath sharply, despite his shaking hands and breath. Lawrence glances back at him.

"You love each other," Jigsaw goes on. "It's in plain view. Lawrence, you have sacrificed so much for Adam's life tonight. But that still doesn't change the fact that Adam is selfish. That he's never had to sacrifice anything for you. Adam still hasn't learned his lesson."


"But the thing is... With Lawrence's help, Adam, you can change. Lawrence is what you need. Lawrence will help you straighten your life out."

Adam glares at Jigsaw. And the only reason he does is because he knows he's right.

"And what about me?" Allison rasps, narrowing her eyes. She stands up, swaying slightly as if the equilibrium's been knocked out of her head. Allison's not looking at Jigsaw anymore. Instead, she scowls at Lawrence. Her husband even though they shouldn't be together. "Larry, what about me?"

"Allison..." Lawrence looks at her. No, stares at her.

Why does he have to say it to her face?

That is complete bullshit. I'd rather you break down and tell me you hated me. At least there'd be some passion in it.

"Ally..." Lawrence scratches the back of his head. "I know... I know we've been through a lot. But the thing is... I just don't feel the way I used to about you." That's good. Let her down gently. "When I talk to you, it feels like I'm talking to a stranger." The truth. "The truth is... I don't know you anymore, Allison."

He's never known her.

Fools get married young. That's how it is. You never know the person enough.

"And I know we have a child. But I'm willing to work things out."

There's no reason why Diana can't have two homes.

"Allison..." Lawrence says, walking to her, gripping her shoulders, shaking her slightly. "I know we've been through a lot together." The words are knives through his own chest. "But I love Adam. And nothing's going to change that."

And the rest of what he's going to say is interrupted.

Adam's screaming.

Not out of pain.

No, he's still all right.

But Jigsaw isn't.

Lawrence hadn't realize it before, but Allison had dropped the scalpel when she'd stood up.

Adam has it now.

Adam has knocked Jigsaw against the wall, the scalpel in his left hand. His right hand grips Jigsaw's throat. "You crazy motherfucker!" he screams, raising his arm to stab Jigsaw, who's gasping, gasping for breath, gasping to get away from his own victim, own test subject. The person he's been teaching.

And sometimes, students surpass their teachers.

Yes, Adam won't die today. Adam's precious soul has already been saved.

But Jigsaw's soul is hanging by a loose tendon.

Because when Adam stabs Jigsaw right in the eye, right in the fucking eye, everyone - Adam, Lawrence, and Allison - knows that Jigsaw's going to die today.

Adam stabs him over and over, over and over, over and over again, right in the eye, and blood falls down Jigsaw's face.

Jigsaw is dead.

Adam keeps screaming, though, long after Jigsaw has died.

This is the man who ruined him. The man who put him in a small room for two days. The man who pushed so many thoughts of suicide into his head. This is the man who filled Adam's bed with a wet warmness for so many nights. This is the man who forced the love of his life into a pool of needles, the man who forced his love's hands up into a box, the man who made the blood hemorrhage in Adam's lungs.

This is the man from so many Jigsaw news reports. So many people have died because of his stupid, shitty, sadistic, fucked up games.

Never again can Adam let what happened to him and the love of his life happen to someone else.

So that's why Jigsaw has to be dead.

Adam gives up on the stabbing. His throat is hoarse, and he has to stop screaming to cough, to take deep breaths inside so he won't hurt his lungs more than he already has.

The sobs press against his throat, too quickly, and Adam throws Jigsaw's body to the floor. The tears spill over, out of his eyes, and Adam sinks to the floor. He pulls his hands up to his sweaty face, covering it, because there's no point in letting anyone else see it anymore.

Just like that, the man who tortured Adam's life is dead.

He'd always thought of Jigsaw like a God or something, someone who would smight him if he even got a thought in his head about killing him.

But tonight, Jigsaw is the same as him.

Bones covered with flesh and blood, and nothing else.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

And the worst part is, Adam wishes that he could feel nothing. Wishes that he could just kill his demons and tormentors and feel nothing, nothing at all, just like Jigsaw. Wishes that he could just end all the lives interfering with the love and comfort that Adam and Lawrence give each other.

But Adam's not that kind of person.

Adam can't be a murderer.

Well, of course, he's now the murderer of Zep and Jigsaw.

But it's not like he could ever be a word-class, striking-fear-into-the-hearts-of-little-children serial killer. He could never make pools of blood flow into a nice long river by his feet just because he's suffered a little in his life.

Adam feels. And he hates that about himself.

He hates that Jigsaw can be stone-faced, have no emotions at all, but he, Adam Faulkner, even with all the shit he's been through in his life, can't keep a straight face after tossing his tormentor's dead body onto the floor.

Adam doesn't want to be like Jigsaw.

But he doesn't want to be himself, either.

And yet Lawrence loves him just the way he is.

Loves how Adam can't keep a straight face under all this pressure, loves him even though he snaps and hides his true self so far within his body that it's held steady in a small jar.

Adam hates himself. And he can't stop hating. Once you start, you never stop.

And that's why he can never be with Lawrence.

He can never taint Lawrence's life with all this hatred and backed-up shit and sorrow that fills his body, his entire being, every day, every single day, and it never gets easier. Adam has to live, breathe, walk inside that body of hatred, and it'll never get easier.

As Lawrence runs to Adam, wraps his arms around his body, pressing against him so warmly, with tears falling from his face onto Adam's shirt, Adam knows it'll never be easier.

He'll be the same until the day he dies. Lawrence will the same until the day he dies.

Lawrence's mouth is right next to Adam's ear. "You're gonna be all right, Adam, it's gonna be okay." His voice is truly a doctor's voice, except for the terrible wetness and thickness that envokes it. Lawrence's fingers are gripping Adam's arms so tight that Adam has to bite his lip to keep from whimpering. "It's just going to be you and I from now on, you and I!"

Lawrence, still gripping Adam's arms, takes himself away from Adam's body and looks into those darkened, sullen eyes. Those eyes that know nothing but fear and melancholy right now. "I love you," he whispers, his blue eyes immediately filling with tears once again, because he's like Adam right now, like Adam in the way that he can't hold them back. Not anymore.

Too many tears have been held back since Jigsaw came into their lives.

"I fucking love you, Adam."

Wavering. His voice is wavering. Quivering.

"I didn't tell you, I only told you that one time, and I didn't even wait to see if you would say it back, and I... I..." God, he's talking so fast now. "I should've told you right there, right there, right there in the bathroom, right when I had the chance, I should've... I should've never left you again... I love you so fucking much... I'll never leave you again, for as long as I live..."

He doesn't deserve Adam. He knows he doesn't. Because everything he did caused he and Adam both to wake up in that bathroom, to end their first time together crying and bleeding and trembling.

But then again, if he never did all that stuff...

He and Adam wouldn't be together now.

Lawrence straightens up Adam's damp hair and kisses his forehead. "My sweet little Adam, I'll get our lives back together again, and this time... This time we'll have each other to build up our life together... Life's just beginning for us..."

Adam stares back into Lawrence's shining blue eyes, and he sobs again, but this time, almost merrily.

Yes, almost merrily.

He's lived a life without Lawrence.

The person he was before is dead now.

Now he's living a life with Lawrence.

He has to be, or at least try to be the new Adam Faulkner. He knows he's going to have to change some things.

And that's okay.

Of course he can change some things. Of course he can quit smoking immediately, be just a little bit less bitter. He doesn't care. He'll change his entire appearance and personality if he has to.

Because, the truth is, in shining letters on a billboard in a corridor of Adam's mind...

Adam can't live without Lawrence.

Not now. Not now that they're together again.

"I know you love me, Lawrence," Adam murmurs, trembling. Trembling because the pain in his side and the pain in his hand and the pain in his lungs. "I love you, too, I always have... Since the beginning..." He wipes his eyes.

He can feel Allison watching with crossed arms.

He doesn't fucking care anymore.

The room is black.

Black except for Lawrence.

It's like a spotlight is shining on him and nothing else.

"I've always loved you. Through everything, I... I've always loved you. Never forget that."

His voice is stern. Adam means it. He'd write those words on the wall with a permanent marker if he could.

Because he means it. He always has.

"I'll never forget."

Lawrence puts his hand, his bleeding hand, underneath Adam's legs, and he puts his other bleeding hand under Adam's head.

And he cradles Adam like a baby.

He glances at Allison as she walks to Amanda's body and plucks the phone from her cold, lifeless fingers. Now, since Sheena's out and Amanda and Jigsaw are dead, she can call the cops. Allison weakly sinks to her knees, coughing into one hand, her eyes watering. Her fingers press the three buttons, almost too slow, and she holds the phone to her ear.

Lawrence lays Adam's head in his lap and strokes his face gently.

Adam's tired. So fucking tired.

He's entitled to be tired. He's been through so much shit that he can be tired all he wants.

He doesn't hear Allison talk, or he hears her, but he doesn't understand her, because her voice is just a lowered volume now.

Adam just feels Lawrence kiss the eyelids of his shut eyes and hears him say, "We're going home, Adam. We're going home."


Things are getting better.

Little by little, things are getting better.

Lawrence's hands and Adam's stomach wound are healing.

They have each other, at least, and that helps a little. Love doesn't heal wounds, but it takes some of the hurt away. And that's okay. Adam and Lawrence can deal with that. After all, it'll be all right.

It's been two months.

Two, short, quiet, months of healing.

Watching people pass by outside the window, argue, kiss, go to work, drive away. The days have gone by so fast that it feels like a tiny video game blip, popping on the screen for just a second, just a tiny second. No thoughts of Sheena who killed herself in prison or thoughts of Amanda and Jigsaw cloud their minds anymore. They have to get over that, one way or another.

Lawrence has divorced Allison after they'd been discharged from the hospital. Diana comes over sometimes, but most of the time, Lawrence and Adam are alone in their new apartment. And sometimes, Adam's by himself, because Lawrence works for most of the day.

That's okay. Adam sleeps for most of the day nowadays. He's always tired nowadays, and that's not really a bad thing. Adam deserves as much sleep as he can get.

Besides, Lawrence loves unlocking the apartment door with his keys, walking in, seeing Adam asleep in the bed they bought together, holding Adam's face in his hands, seeing those eyes open and glimmer with recognition. "Hey, man, what's up?" Adam will say, and he'll sit up, his hair messy.

Lawrence loves Adam. He would quit his job in a heart beat just to stay with that little body all day if he could. If he could quit, he would never leave Adam, never leave him ever, ever again. Because the truth is, he hates leaving Adam by himself all day. Because another crazy motherfucker like Jigsaw could break the windows and grip Adam's arms with his nails, haul him to and alley and beat him to death.

But Lawrence has to trust Adam. Has to trust Adam and himself.

Adam will be okay. He just has to trust that Adam will be okay.

Today, though, Lawrence is not okay.

He's not okay because he doesn't know if Adam's okay.

Lawrence just walked into his and Adam's apartment, gone to their bedroom to try to yank Adam out of bed.

The bed is made.

All of the rooms are vacant of Adam.

Without Adam, this isn't Lawrence's apartment.

Lawrence forces his stitched palms to his head, and he literally starts panting.

Some sort of Jigsaw has been here. He knows it. He knows it. Because Adam's gone. And the shape on the shower curtain in their bathroom disturbs him in ways that no one else can understand.

The sound of the door opening interrupt's Lawrence's inner-monologue. And then the sound of the door shutting nearly makes his heart stop.

Lawrence stomps quickly back into the living room, and a sigh of relief escapes his mouth when he sees a short, skinny man take off his black leather jacket and put it in the closet.

"Hey, man," Adam says, grinning and walking over to Lawrence to kiss him on the cheek. But when he tries to walk past him into the living room, Lawrence grabs his arm and looks into his eyes, tears pressing against his own blue, frightful eyeballs.

Firmly. Grabs his arm firmly.

"Adam, I called you from work several times throughout the day," Lawrence murmurs sternly, getting close to Adam's face. Adam's eyes widen, not in a scared way, but in a sort of surprised way. "Why didn't you answer your phone? You have to answer your phone!" And his voice wavers like he's a child throwing a fit.

"You didn't call me," Adam replies simply and quickly. "I had my phone on vibrate, and my ringer on." Ah, yes, Adam's lovely screamo ringtone. "Here, I'll show you." He digs through his blue jeans and he pulls the insides of all four pockets out. No phone. Adam's eyes widen, and he lets out a long, sharp, exasperated groan. "Oh, fuck, I must've left it on the train!"

"Train?" echoes Lawrence, arching and eyebrow. Where would Adam Faulkner, tired and apathetic, take a train to?

"Yeah, I wanted to get us something to watch tonight instead of old reruns." Adam grips the bag he had dropped - why hadn't Lawrence noticed that? - before on the floor when he went to kiss Larry. He pulls several DVDs out of the bag.

Lawrence scans them with his eyes. All horror and comedy. Adam's favorite movie genres. Lawrence's lips curve up and he loosens his grip on his lover's arm. "You know, you lost your wallet, too," he teases Adam as he looks at the little guy's pockets.

Adam's eyes widen even more, and he presses his palm to his forehead. "Oh, fuck!" And Lawrence just laughs, wraps his arms around Adam's waist, and kisses his pale white neck up and down.

"I have to buy you a phone, later," he murmurs, right next to Adam's ear. "I can't constantly be worried about your safety at work."

Adam chuckles softly and scratches the back of his head. "I suppose I've gotten over my own safety, Lawrence, 'cause Alex hasn't visited me and told me to kill myself." That's right. Alex isn't with Adam anymore. Because Alex was part of Adam's old life.

The old life he's let go to be with Lawrence.

Of course, Adam will never forget that life now. That life lasted for twenty-six years. That life made him who he is today.

And Adam will never forget Alex. She was his first love, after all.

But sometimes, you have to write a different chapter in a different story.

You have to start over with a clean slate.

And that's what Adam's doing. He's starting his life over.

And this time, even though Jigsaw's dead and he'll haunt their lives until they day, Adam knows that it'll be okay. He just has to get up, dust himself off, and walk away from the ruins of his old life.

It'll be okay. Because his new life is warm, comforting, happy, and it breaks away the blackness around the dark red circle in Adam's heart.

The circle has grown.

Lawrence is Adam's new life.

And it'll all be okay.

That's why Adam doesn't smoke much anymore. He has to find a way to deal with his problems. He has to find a way to feel okay without smoking.

"That's good," Lawrence murmurs, stroking the hair on the back of Adam's neck. He relaxes his stiffened shoulders and takes a deep breath. Relieved.

Adam will be okay.

He's twenty-seven now. He's a grown man. Lawrence has to trust that he'll be able to take care of himself.

And it's hard.

The hardest part of it was realizing that this little kid in his arms right now, this wonderful, sweet little boy who's all his...

He could've lost him.

Lawrence would jump in a pit of needles again if he had to to get Adam back.

He could've lost him.

But Lawrence just has to trust himself. Has to trust Adam.

He has to trust that Adam's going to make it alone.

"By the way, happy birthday," Lawrence says, kissing Adam's cheek slowly.

Adam smirks. "Larry, I told you, you don't have to make a big deal about my birthday."

"And what's the fun of that?" Lawrence purrs, taking his hands off of Adam and walking to the closet hallway. Lawrence opens the closet, and pulls out a small, gift-wrapped box with black wrapping paper, the way Adam would've wanted it if he'd known. "Happy birthday, baby." He holds the box out to Adam.

"Oh, Lawrence," Adam sighs, and takes the box, shaking his head. Scribbled on a little stick-on tag is "Happy November 4th." "Thanks..." Adam tears the wrapping paper off of the box, revealing just the cardboard, so Adam uses one nail to open the box.

It's then that he sees what's inside is a tissue paper-covered digital camera.

Adam takes it out of the box, manuevers it in his hands, and pushes the buttons, even though the camera's not on and it has no batteries in it.


That's why Jigsaw put him in the bathroom.

Seeming to realize what Adam's thinking, Lawrence shakes his head and says, "I didn't mean it that way. You said when we moved in that you'd broken your awful flash camera, so I wanted to buy you a good quality one. And since your talent is photography..." He winks. "And I wanted you to have a keepsake of me, just in case."

Adam stares at him with confused greenish gray eyes. "Lawrence, what do you mean, 'just in case?'"

"Well." Lawrence wraps his arms around Adam's waist again and brings him to the couch, sitting him in his lap. "I know you won't leave me, and I wouldn't leave you, either, but just in case... I want you to have something that makes you think of me every time you touch it or see it."

Adam feels like an ass.

"Do... you want something that reminds you of me?" he asks quietly.

"I already have something, remember?" Lawrence chuckles. "Memories. Everything we've been through. And a scar around my ankle." Adam looks down, so Lawrence smiles and kisses his neck again. "That scar isn't a bad thing. If it wasn't for this scar, I would've never gotten free. I would've never gotten help for you. I would've never gotten you out of that bathroom. That scar made me realize my love for you."

"Despite everything," Adam adds on.

Lawrence pauses, his hand under Adam's shirt, stroking every rib that he can find. He knows he has to tell Adam about this sometime. Because either Adam's going to find out, freak out, rip his hair out, and go shut himself in the bathroom like he usually does when he's angry before he can be comforted by Lawrence. Or Lawrence can tell him, he can be scared, swallow a few frightened sobs, and assure himself that he's going to be all right.

Sensing something wrong, Adam turns his head and looks at Lawrence. "What is it?"

Lawrence purses his lips, and he sighs. "Adam, get up for a second. There's something I found before you came home." Adam stirs and stands up slowly, his eyes widening again as he follows Lawrence to the bathroom.

Lawrence is scared. He has to bite his lip to keep his teeth from chattering.

He turns on the light.

He doesn't even look at the shower curtain.

He just stares at Adam, whose breath shakes.

Adam turns away from the large red heart drawn on the shower curtain.

In the middle of the heart, the words Game Over are painted in dark red paint.

Some sort of Jigsaw has found them again.

But Jigsaw his part of Adam's old life.

Even if Jigsaw has a whole network of killers working for him, Jigsaw cannot disrupt their lives any more than he already has. Adam realizes that now. Even if they're being followed, watched, stalked, no matter what, everything will be okay.

Scars may not go away, but they do heal. And Jigsaw is just another healing scar.

"Adam?" Adam can feel Lawrence's concerned blue gaze burning into the back of his head.

"Jigsaw's won somehow," Adam says, turning and looking at Lawrence. "We'll always be his victims. Even if he's dead, we'll always be his fucking victims." He sighs. "But you know what? I'm starting to get over it. Because Jigsaw can't take us apart again."

Lawrence smiles, putting his hand on Adam's shoulder. He leans in, kissing Adam's lips over and over and over again and maybe even sliding his tongue in that mouth a little.

And when Adam and Lawrence are left panting slightly, Lawrence strokes Adam's face with the back of his hand. "Jigsaw hasn't won. Never think that, Adam." He smiles a little bigger. "Now, which movie did you want to watch tonight?"

Yes, no more worries. No more Jigsaw. Not in Adam's new life.

Adam rolls his eyes. "I hate picking," he mutters good-naturedly. "But it's between Back to the Future and Orphan. I really wanted to see Orphan, but Back to the Future is my favorite movie."

"It is, huh?" Lawrence laughs. "Yeah, that's a good one."

"The reason I think I liked it so much as a kid and teenager is because of the possibility of going back in time to change my past. I thought, 'Maybe if I could get some sort of flux capaciter, I could go back in time and save my mother or go back in time to save Alex.' I don't really know. I just always loved the possibility of time travel, I guess."

Lawrence nods. "We can always watch Orphan later or tomorrow after I get home from work. If Back to the Future is really your favorite movie, let's watch that."

Adam smirks and wraps his arms around Lawrence's neck, standing on his toes to reach him. "Thanks, Lawrence. I love you, by the way."

It's true. He can never say it enough to express how much that's true.

Lawrence grins. "I know. I love you, too, Adam Faulkner. Probably more than someone could love another person." He kisses Adam's forehead tenderly and gently.

He could've lost his Adam.

He wouldn't have been able to live without him.

So now Adam and Lawrence are going to pop Back to the Future in the DVD player. Adam's going to sit in Lawrence's lap, and they're going to watch Back to the Future together.

They're not going to dwell on the past anymore. Because, no matter what, they can't change the past.

They have to focus on their future. Their new life together.

And Lawrence is right. Jigsaw hasn't won.

The demons threatening to swamp Adam and Lawrence haven't won.

Adam lets Lawrence run his fingers over the long, thin, healing stomach scar underneath his shirt and he sighs, his lip curving up a little.

To win, you have to sacrifice.

And to sacrifice, you have to love.

And to love, you can't dwell on your mistakes.

Adam's not sure if he says that out loud, but he feels like he does, maybe.

He looks at Lawrence.

I wouldn't lie to you.

He hasn't.

Lawrence's promise hasn't been broken.

It was never made to be broken.


D'AAAAAAAAAWWWW! XD Thank you, everyone, for reading! This story has been so great to write! Don't you just love those two?

PLEEEEEAAAAASE review! :D Thank you, everyone!