Disclaimer: I don't own anything/anyone associated with the SAW franchise.

JUST STAY WITH ME

Arrogant cops were never my favourite people, even before Eric Matthews. Being forced to work with one was something I just had to deal with. I only did it for John and because, while I hate to admit it, Hoffman was keeping the cops off our backs for a while.

But when the smug bastard, who had yet to be really tested, came into my area of the warehouse I didn't like it one bit, particularly since he had a look of self satisfaction on his face.

"You're not as stupid as I thought."

I roll my eyes at him. Stupid fucking cop. "What are you talking about?"

Hoffman flips through some clippings in his hand. My heart skips a beat as I have a feeling as to what they are. My suspicions are confirmed when I spot the headline of one.

"I always wondered why he didn't drop you in it. After all you were stupid enough to let him know all about you." Hoffman drops the clippings to the ground so that Daniel Matthew's face is staring up from the floor.

"Fuck you." I reach to grab the articles from the ground, but he grabs my wrist and stares down at my palm. The vertical cut, representing a twisted connection, is clearly visible.

He drags a finger down the line, tracing it. The simple action almost feels like a violation. "Couldn't help but notice that your new boyfriend had something similar to this when we questioned him. You really are a twisted bitch."

"And you really are delusional if you don't think one of these days you'll be tested." I yank my hand from his grasp, resisting the urge to spit in his face. Instead I meet his threatening gaze with my own. "By the way, if you touch Daniel Matthews, I will end you."

My eye was messed up and still bleeding slightly. The blood of a corrupt cop was on my boot. The best course of action would be to go back to the warehouse, clean myself up and maybe even have a congratulatory drink of ridding the world of a piss poor excuse for a human being such as Eric Matthews.

But I knew, no matter how much I tried to fight it, I was heading somewhere else entirely. I drove around that particular block, trying to force myself to turn away and go to the warehouse. Go back to John and prove that my emotions would not interfere with the game. Rub Hoffman's nose in it for doubting me, like I knew he always did.

But there was something more important. Daniel Matthews. I had to know if he was okay.

I finally parked out front of the hospital, looking up at the big building and pulling my hood up to cover my face slightly. Something about Daniel being there made me feel sick. Even worse was that I was the cause, despite how much he clearly cared about me.

I kept my head down as I walked to the entrance. I could feel some people watching me, probably thinking I was some kind of vagrant. Little did they know of all the shit I had gone through in the last 36 hours. Then again, there was an off chance one of them might find out in their own test later.

It was surprisingly easy to find Daniel's room. You don't survive a Jigsaw test without attracting attention of nosey assholes. Being the son of a well known detective would just add to that. No doubt the fucking police and reporters were on their way to harass the story out of Daniel, if they weren't there already.

Of course, the moment I get near enough to Daniel's door I am this close to running into Detective fucking Kerry. A nurse ushers her out urging her to let Daniel rest. I duck behind the nearest door frame to avoid her.

"Stupid bitch."

I knew she wasn't there to comfort Daniel. After all, she'd basically played a hand in breaking up his family. I almost hated the fact that this particular detective was clearly the one that got him to the hospital. She probably only rescued Daniel to get back in Eric's bed.

It wasn't hard after that to sneak into Daniel's room. There he was, sitting on the side of his hospital bed, staring out the window. It almost pains me to watch him. As much as I wanted revenge on his dad, hurting Daniel was something I never thought would get to me this much.

I cover my mouth to stop any kind of audible sobs. I hate seeing him so fragile, even if he appreciates things more. He didn't deserve to go through all the shit just because his father was an asshole.

One tear falls down my cheek and I sniffle to hold the rest back. Unfortunately this draws Daniel's attention right to me. Our eyes meet for the first time since our last kiss.

"Daniel." I whisper, stepping towards him.

He jumps off his bed, and I notice the look in his eyes. He's fucking afraid of me. I can't blame him. I've put him through hell and I know that.

"What are you doing here Amanda?"

"I had to see you." I reply, stepping even closer to him only to have him step back.

"Why so you can put me in another fucking gas house? How about locking me in a safe? I could have let you die you know." I can see that he's choking back his own rage, possibly his own tears as well. "The cops are right outside."

John would be disgusted with me if he knew how many tears that one sentence set off. I may not have been infected with the deadly nerve agent, but I could feel a similar sickening force running through my veins.

"What happened to your face, you finally get what you deserve?" Daniel snapped. "You could have come with me, but you chose to stay with him after…after I killed a guy to protect us."

At this point it's like all the parts I appreciate and connect with in Daniel are gone. But there is a sense of familiarity. As different as they are, it was clearer than ever that part of Eric still lived on in Daniel, the rage in his eyes being the most obvious.

"Just stay away from me you twisted bitch!"

The words hit like gun shots. Though after he said it, his eyes soften like he doesn't mean it.

"Screw you!" I bite back at him.

"Amanda…" He starts until we both hear Detective Kerry's voice right outside the door.

With nowhere to go, I duck into the bathroom. I know that now is the moment of truth. Daniel was probably going to tell the bitch everything and get me taken back to prison. All because I let my stupid emotions get in the way. I pace the bathroom, swearing at myself and waiting for the inevitable.

Catching my reflection in the mirror, I realise that I have yet to clean my face up. Grabbing some toilet tissue and wetting it, I proceed in cleaning up. With each wipe I prepare for Detective Dead Inside to come through the door and slap the cuffs on me.

The door does open and I gasp and turn. However it's Daniel's eyes that meet mine. He runs his fingers through his hair and looks at the ground, like he's wondering what he's done. Eventually he sets his gaze back on me again.

Without a word he comes over and takes the tissues from my hand. With a delicate touch he begins to clean the wounds his father had inflicted. His expression is no longer laced with Eric. Now he's just Daniel. The worried, caring survivor who helped me back in the nerve gas house.

"Why didn't you turn me in?"

Daniel sighs and shakes his head before meeting my eyes. "I don't want to."

I can't hold back anymore. I embrace him tightly, finally emptying all my emotion into his shoulder. His arms slowly find their way around me, holding me. Daniel doesn't give a shit if I cry, in fact he understands it. He doesn't think my tears are a weakness, rather they connect us.

"I'm so sorry." I choke out before crashing my lips onto his. "So sorry Daniel."

I just keep kissing him, holding him close for fear he'll run away. He's reluctant at first, just like me he knows logically how wrong this whole situation is, much like our previous displays of affection, but deep down he can feel how right it is too. That part doesn't take long to find its way to the surface and he kisses me right back.

When we break for air, Daniel looks at my injuries with the most genuine concern I've even seen. "Let's get your face cleaned up." He gets some more tissue and wipes away the last of the blood. "How did it happen anyway?"

"I think I got what I deserved for hurting you." As twisted as it is to say, it almost feels like the truth.

Daniel grabs both my hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Please leave this whole thing. You don't want to do this. I won't tell, you know that."

"It's not that simple."

He lets go of my hands, sighs and walks out of the bathroom. I follow him back to his bed. He's sitting in the same place I found him before. This time I walk over and sit beside him.

"So do you just make a habit of making out with guys in bathrooms?" Daniel jokes with a kind of bitter undertone. I can tell he's hurt that I won't leave the Jigsaw life behind. But it's the first time since John more or less adopted me that I've considered the possibility of leaving a potential reality.

"I did a lot worse in bathrooms while I was a fucking junkie." I can't help but see how different Daniel is compared to guys like Cecil.

"You know you deserve better than that." Daniel traces the scars on my wrists. Like he did before I sedated him, he picks up my arm and begins to kiss the cuts. "Make your choice and stop doing this shit."

I shut my eyes and allow my fingers to run into his curls. We end up lying down on the bed, big enough for two provided we squeeze close together. His kisses against the cut on my palm feel so good.

I cup his face and allow our lips to meet again. There is nothing that compares to kissing Daniel. Despite all the reasons that people could name as evidence of it being wrong, it's beyond right.

We both grew up in messed up environments, grew into screwed up human beings who met under probably the most fucked up of circumstances known to man. Nothing about being with Daniel was ever going to be normal, but that was why it worked for us.

I really hope our whole ordeal teaches Daniel to appreciate life. As I return his affectionate gesture, vigorously kissing the cuts on his arm, I secretly wish that he grows to be happy.

"Amanda…just stay with me." Daniel whispers before capturing my lips in his own. "Please don't leave me again."

"Okay." I breathe out a reply before burying my head in his chest.

My promise is the truth when I say it, but I know that no matter how much I want to be with him, it's not going to be. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, feeling his heart beat against my cheek.

He'll go back to his home and live his life, hopefully a good one. I'll go back to John and Hoffman creating more traps and testing more people. It's the way it has to be.

I've already gone too far with my emotions. The more I stay with Daniel, the more out of control things get. I know after this I can't ever see him again.

I take his hand in mine, pressing our two cuts together again. They may not be bleeding this time, but the pulse coming from them implies the strength of their meaning. He'll stay with me, no matter what.

I stay as long as I can with him. But the moment he falls asleep I know I have to leave. My body protests to leaving his warmth. Everything in my being tells me to stay with him like I promised. If I was truly grateful to be alive, why not stay with someone who could offer me something amazing?

It takes all my strength to get up off the bed. Somehow I manage not to wake Daniel in the process. I look down and take in everything about him. His strength, his emotions, innocence and guilt, his survival and a feeling that I don't want to see or feel but chances are I probably do.

I run my hand over his hair, causing the sleeping figure to stir slightly. Kissing my fingers I press them to Daniel's lips as a last goodbye. I swear I can feel him kissing them back softly in return, making me wonder if he's really asleep. I hate the thought that he's watching me leave, seeing me break the promise he hoped I'd keep this time.

Leaving the room quickly I practically flee the hospital to resist any temptation I have to turn back. I get back in the car and ride back to the warehouse, practically hyperventilating with fear and depression. I keep punching the steering wheel, taking the whole situation out on the inanimate object.

Once parked and hidden from view I calm myself down. Every tear is gone and all the feelings are bottled up. There is no possible way John could accuse me of getting to emotionally attached, or Hoffman claiming I fucked up the game.

I walk inside to one of the buildings. I continue confidently until I spot something I wasn't prepared for.

John, obviously by the hand of Eric Matthews, had clearly been beaten. He was lying down, hooked up to all sorts of machines. This is the last thing I need after everything that's happened. Once again I feel like I'm choking on my own heart.

I run to his bedside and cry about everything; the game, Daniel Matthews, John's condition. But I pass it off as merely concern for the third.

I can't leave John, he's made sure of that. Even though it's the whole Jigsaw life that's put me in this complicated position, I can't escape it.

John tells me that he'll be okay, practically choking out the words. I really wish he wouldn't talk in his state.

"How was our game?" John wheezed, pressing the oxygen mask to his face right after the sentence.

"Everything went fine. I chained Eric in the bathroom." I hug him, pressing my face into his shoulder. I hope he can't tell that I'm lying by omission. But telling him the truth would just aggravate things. "I'll go get you some water."

I start to leave, wiping my eyes as I do so. Then I hear John's voice ushering me back to him.

Like the dedicated apprentice, like a daughter to her father, I run back to his side. I sit and listen to what he has to say.

"Daniel Matthews has survived the game. He is no longer your concern." John tells me with complete earnestness, his eyes more serious than ever. "Are we clear?"

Holding back a sob, I manage a reply. "Yeah. I know." I nod to John, showing that I understand. The last glimmer of hope in seeing Daniel, kissing him again, being with him ever, was completely extinguished.

I leave John's side quickly, pretending that I'm not hurting as much as I am. Fuck, how John manages to do what he does without all the emotion I'll never know. I have to actively convince myself I'm not hurting, force myself not to think about Daniel.

My pace slows down and I can't avoid collapsing to the floor in an emotional mess. I manage somehow to make it to my area, to my cot. I sit and breathe deeply, grabbing the box where I keep my trusty knife.

Then it will all disappear. Everything will be fine…Daniel deserves better than me anyway.

NOTE: I know it's been years since I wrote Just Like Me. This idea was hanging around for recent months. There is also a third one I'm planning to write, where Amanda sees Daniel again. It was really cool to see the positive feedback for the first one, as well as the requests for some more Amanda/Daniel. So hopefully this one is just as good, though definately more angsty I think.