Chapter 1: Flashback.

This is basically a flashback to Perez's Jigsaw trap - kinda- and what happened afterward. This is an alternate universe, Hoffman was caught, Perez, Erickson, Strahm, Eric Matthews, Adam Faulkner and Rigg never died. Enjoy =)

'Office' only it wasn't office it was ofBice…I opened the door. Billy sat there. Candles strewn around it, like it was some kind of obsession shrine. Peter went to search the rest of the room. I noticed a tape player tied around its neck. I reached in to turn it on. Half of me terrified what could be on it, the other half of me was FBI training telling me I had to find out was on it so we could figure out the location of the lair and the second apprentice. What the hell. I pressed play.

"Hello, Agent Perez -" Oh Jesus, "-And welcome to the world you have long studied. Your Partner, Agent Strahm will soon take the life of an innocent man. Heed my warning, your next move is critical." Awesome, perfect, just fucking peachy.

"…..Open the door…."

"Wait, what is that?" I said. Strahm leaned in.

"…Open the door…Open the-"

"Arghh." Bam, the doll exploded, who didn't see that coming. Thank you for the warning Jigsaw, motherf- Wait….

"…..Paramedics!" Peter cried. Paramedics? Then it hit me, I was going to die. The key, Peter needed the key…

"We need to fake your death." Erickson said.

"Why?"

"Because your not safe. There is a new apprentice put there and you're not safe at the moment."

'OK, where's Strahm?"

"He can't know."

"What? Why?"

"Lindsay, He can't know. Only you and me, until this is sorted out. For your safety."

"Fine."

"Agent Strahm, I'm sorry, she didn't make it." Erickson said sympathetically.

I stood at the window of his room hidden by the shades. So I can see his reaction clearly. I saw him make a sudden movement to get up. He had a large bandage on his throat. I made a mental note to ask why.

"No, they have to move her body. You can go to her room to mourn later. Right now you have to rest. Please Strahm, your not well at the moment. You suffered greatly"

"OK. But I will see her."

"That's fine. But not now." Erickson walked out, and I looked away just as Strahm cool cover swiftly broke, and started to tear up. I looked away before I would cry myself, and rush in telling him I was fine. I couldn't bear see my best-friend so hurt

"Hoffman? Hoffman!" I exclaimed, "He did this to me?" I pointed at the many scars that now decorated my face. "Let me at him!" I rushed to the door of my room, I still hadn't gone back to Bureau after my accident two weeks ago, but Peter blocked my path

"Linds, no!" Peter exclaimed.

"Let. Me. At. Him."

"No, you can fill me in first. What happened while you were 'dead'"

"No, later. Let me punch him once. C'mon once. Please, that's all I want. One punch, it doesn't even have to be that. I'll slap across the face. Or kick him the groin so hard he passes out. Oooh yeah, I like that one." Strahm flinched a little. I guess that must be a painful thought.

"Your supposed to be dead,"

"Peter, not now. One kick, punch, slap, whatever, then that's it."

"No."

"You suck. You do know that right?"

"Perez, you start again tomorrow." Erickson said over the phone.

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm going insane here." I cried.

"Yeah, Strahm's not happy about having to go partner-less here. There have been to more Jigsaw killings. Within two days of each other, it's overkill here."

"Two…more….Jigsaw? What the hell?"

"We don't know, just rest up. Eight a.m. sharp no exceptions."

"OK, ok. Bye!"

"Yeah, bye." After I hung up I sent a quick text to Peter to ask for a lift. After the news of another Jigsaw killing I was paranoid to walk out of my house now. Me and Peter were Jigsaw targets. But that could still apply.

Lindsay: Peter! I start work again tomorrow, can you drive me? Erickson told me there have been more Jigsaw killings and I'm paranoid now.

Peter: Sure. Uhhh 7:30? And Erickson wasn't supposed to tell anyone yet. Gotta go, Erickson may have a lead…..He say's Hi.

Lindsay: Of course he did.

Chapter 2

The dead male body. The gun, accidentally hitting the photographer her blood splashing behind her on the notice board. The doll telling me my next move was critical. The explosion. The blood. I couldn't breath. Then I passed out. Peter's hand in mine.

I woke up gasping for air. Typical, first day back at the Bureau and I dream about my near-death experience. So, me. My phone went off, scaring me half to death. Again, with the death analogies.

*New caller: Peter Strahm* Shit,

"Hello?" I said.

"Trust you to be late, on your first day back. I remember when it was your actual first day, you showed up half an hour early. But seriously. I have been waiting for 20 minutes so move your ass."

"I'm so, so, so sorry. I'll be down in 5 minutes."

"Fine just hurry."

"Isn't 5 minutes quick enough?"

"I'd like to think so, but after 20 minutes of waiting, I have a different view on quick."

"Fine." I hung up and quickly got changed and got my gun. Remembering the comfortable weight.

I walked with a deliberate slowness down the stairs of my apartment. Just begging to piss him off.

"There are whole continents moving faster than you Lindsay."

"I know."

"I'm serious. Move your ass. You know how much shit Erickson is going to give us? We're like half a fucking hour late." I stepped quickly in the car.

"OK you can go."

"Thank you."

Peter sped down the streets. One of the things I had always hated about driving carpool with him. I was scared he was going to ram us into a tree at 100 kilometres an hour. He was beat up bad. Several cuts on his lip, a dark shadow over his left eye and his cheek had been fractured. He always had boyish good-looks despite being several years older than I. He spotted me studying him out of the corner of his eye and gave me a smile and grimaced at the pain it caused him. I frowned.

"Didn't they give something for that?"

"It's a fractured cheek-bone, not a broken jaw."

"Yeah, but still. Doctors give you medicine for a reason." He sighed.

"It's in the office."

Peter jerked the car to a stop. I hopped out quickly and run through the front doors. I heard Peter's small chuckle behind me. I kept running down the hall and up two flights of stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator. I ran through the door of my office and sat down behind my desk like I had been there the whole time. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in." I called. Peter opened the door and leaned against the frame.

'How was your run?"

"Shut up."

"I ran to Erickson. He said he was surprised at how fast you can run in heels."

"Damn it." He laughed. A girl jogged up behind Peter. It was an intern, Sarah. She was very careless, blonde hair, blue eyes.

"Oh, good morning Agent Strahm. And Agent Perez, it's great to see you again. Erickson is looking for you. It's urgent." I raised an eyebrow.

"What's going on?" I asked. Sarah's look turned to one of fear. And immediately I knew.

"Jigsaw." She said quietly. Peter nodded.

"OK, thank you Sarah." She diverted back to her usual warm smile.

"Your welcome."

(Time Warp.)

The girls body still dripped red. It was a fresh one. The prominent Jigsaw piece was still oozing.

"She's been identified as Jamie Sutherland. Supermodel." Said Fisk, "Here's the tape." Strahm reached across to grab the recorder, pressing play.

"Hello Jamie, I want to play a game. Since birth you have used your looks to get a head in life. Carelessly pushing others away. Today you will show me that if you want to live, you will have to give up the one thing that has gotten you through life. Your beauty. Hidden in your face are several keys. One of which, will unlock the device strapped to your body. To get them you will have scar your face. Bringing your ugliness out into the open. So I ask you, when faced with death what will you do? Live or die Jamie. Make your choice."

-Insert trap montage here-

"She cut out 3 fake keys. The real one was behind her eyes. She was strong though. We pulled this out of her eye." Fisk passed over an evidence bag, containing a scalpel. I gasped and dropped the bag.

"No." Peter put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"She almost got it out before the device triggered, sending that pipe into her heart. Killing her instantly." Fisk continued. I thought this over. Since when does Jigsaw target supermodels? I was confused. Then a wave of anger washed over me.

"Who the fuck is doing this? We have Hoffman in custody who else could there be?" Peter squeezed my shoulders.

"It's OK, we'll sort it out."

"Fuck. It's happening again." What a wonderful day. I fell down and started to cry. Peter hugged my shoulders.

"She's upset, she needs space, I'm going to take her home." He stretched out his hand, I took it shakily.