Disclaimer: I don't own the Saw franchise.

Summary: Lawrence's carefully constructed composure is crumbling, and all Adam can do is stand and watch. LawrenceAdam, set during the first film, oneshot

Okay, so this is...something new! I haven't written for the Saw series in far too long, so here this is! I recently went with my mother to see Saw in theaters for its tenth anniversary, and it was so much fun! And, completely by accident, it ended up inspiring me to write! Which is a good thing, considering I've been lacking in the inspiration department as of late. But these two boys...ooooh, they have inspired me. So, this is my first little Chainshipping piece, and hopefully there will be more down the road - or, at least, more Saw fics in general. I really hope everyone enjoys!


Foundation


He was losing it.

It was unnerving to see, so unnerving that Adam could hardly comprehend what he was looking at.

Dr. Lawrence Gordon, with his cool demeanor and shrewd thinking skills, had been his rock throughout this situation. Adam did not want to admit it, because shit that sounded cheesy. It seemed odd just thinking about it, when his mind descended into the chaos of the situation, that just looking over at the calm doctor would be enough to ease his breaths, enough to calm his racing pulse.

He was smart, he was cunning, and a part of Adam knew that he was going to lead them out of this place, and that everything would go back to the way it was before - okay, maybe not the exact way it was before, but as close to normal as they could make it.

But...none of Adam's thought processes had directed him to this conclusion.

None of Adam's predisposed notions about this man would have sent him to this outcome - the man in front of him, sobbing hysterically, looking as if he is at a war within himself as well as in a war with forces beyond his control. His eyes are hopelessly lost in his face, desperate and desolate and dismayed. His disheveled appearance becomes even more apparent in the face of his emotional upheaval.

He's screaming the names of his wife and child, making threats, all in between choking sobs that wrack his very frame. The strong shoulders that had been set with determination throughout their captivity were now hunched.

Atlas, Adam thinks erroneously, fingers itching to reach out and comfort him, to do anything to ease the weight of what is to come - of what might be happening on the outside.

In one moment, Lawrence's eyes catch Adam's, and what is there shocks him to his core. There's a blind, animalistic desperation there, one that Adam has only seen in the hungriest of dogs. For one instant, he is frightened for reasons that he cannot quite comprehend, and tries to call out his name; however, he can't even manage the simplest of syllables. His name - once almost like a prayer on his lips - now threatens to strangle him.

Curses tumble from Lawrence's lips as his eyes begin to dart back and forth, looking for something...looking for what? Adam does not know. All he knows is that there's a strange desire curling within him - his fingers twitch, almost aching to brush against Lawrence's, to let the other man know that he is here, that he is not alone, that the two of them will get out of this together and that they will -

Lawrence's fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt, tearing the offending item from his body with a ferocity that baffles Adam.

The question is half-out of his mouth - a curious and timid thing, but one that he has the answer to already. It is in the back of his mind, as if it is afraid to make itself known, but it is there nonetheless,

Lawrence sprawls on the floor in a heap, starts to wrap his shirt around his leg, right above the chain. Adam's breath catches in his throat as - in a moment too quick for his eyes to comprehend - the doctor grabs the rusty saw. There is a fury to him, a panicked and horrid thing, and Adam cries out.

No, not like this, no, no, this way he really wins. We are so close. I'm sure something will happen to save us, Lawrence, please, don't do this to yourself. I need you. I need you. I need you.

Lawrence lowers the saw to his skin and begins to cut.


End.