Hi! Feel free to let me know if I'm inaccurate with this portrayal of the Saw characters. I grew up enjoying the movies but always wanted it to be more about the characters and less about the traps (like Saw 1 and 2). These will be erratic and not chronological, kind of like one-shots all gathered in the same universe, all involving Hoffman. Feel free to review to provide feedback! Thank you!

Mark Hoffman was always a man of few words. She knew this. And still it bothered the living crap out of her how he just sat there in silence. How he'd simply watch with eyes that could stare at you and crack stone in its intensity. Eyes that rarely seemed to do anything besides glow in hate these days.

"Talk to me, Mark." She held a hand to her chest to keep it still. She was practically shaking like a leaf in a windy day. "Please."

He looked away, sparing her the scrutiny that put her normally confident legs to weakness. Shadows had taken over his face in the grief he was suffering. Lips that could make the nicest smile had permanently soured to a pursed frown. And he stunk of booze. Whiskey and musk. They used to remind her of heated and exciting Friday nights when they were rookies. But not anymore.

She sat in the chair in front of him and leaned forward. Her elbows rested on her knees and she tried to take his hands. They were heavy and calloused. She was surprised to feel how cold they were instead of the hot fire he normally was.

"Why don't you go home and take it easy?"

"It won't make any fucking difference," he hissed at her and she blinked back in hurtful surprise. He never spoke to her that way. The self pity was toxic and eating at her heart like an acid.

"It'll be better than being in here acting like a prick and pissing off the office." She did her best to keep her lashing tongue in check. For him. She spared him the multitude of other colorful words she would normally have dished out. "Just... take a walk. Hell, why not take that vacation you always griped about wanting to take. Hawaii sounds a lot nicer than this rainy hellhole." I'll even throw down the money to pay for your goddamn plane ticket.

He said nothing, leaning back and refusing to give her any more eye contact. She knew he was shutting her off. And she hated it. She hated him for it.

"Don't push me away, Mark. You're better than this." She winced at the words. She was scolding him instead of comforting him. Typical of me. She delved deeper, wanting him to understand. "You mean everything to me."

He looked at her with the frown of being taken off guard. "And she was everything to me. Sorry I can't crack a joke and be the golden boy you want, Will." He got up abruptly, his movement forcing her back. It caught her off guard, his sudden exertion. Painstakingly reminded of how much taller he was than she, the instinctive reach for her gun put her in a paralyzed state of confusion. For that split second she felt that he was dangerous. Easy, girl. He wouldn't hurt you.

"Angelina wouldn't want you to be like this, Mark." She beseeched with all her might. All she received back was that hateful glare, so foul and disgusted with her that she had to look away. A sting in her throat was the cruel accepting response to her knowing she was losing him.

No more words were said. Instead, he stormed off. He left their shared office with a slammed door that shook the cheap walls. A clash made her quickly turn to the noise, finding the culprit a book that had toppled over from the bookshelf. She redirected her gaze to the framed photograph of Angelina Acomb that trembled from the force. The pretty girl smiled back with oblivious portrait joy-so blissful in that frozen moment in time that Will wished she could teleport to that day the photograph was taken.

She picked up the frame and sank in her chair, sighing at the mess that she was in. "What am I going to do about him, Angie?" She ran her fingers over the glass, where her face grinned up at her. The cool droplets falling down her cheeks pulled her from her thoughts and she wiped her eyes to hide the tears. She couldn't let the boys see her like this. She made a point never to cry at work.

She looked down at the manila folders that had been left open on her desk. Her spread was normally somewhat neat. But for weeks it was askew with coffee cups, random evidence photocopies and photography that stained her nightmares with the graphic bloody macabre that Jigsaw unleashed onto the world.

She sniffed and wiped her nose while running her thumb up and down the little frame. She knew where she'd find her partner til 3 AM. That shithole bar close to his apartment was the new hot spot for Mark Hoffman. Whiskey and musk. She should call him, she knew. Or better yet, go out and keep him from the booze. Old westerns and steak used to cheer him up even after the worst cases. And of course... there were other ways.

Yeah, how revolutionary you are. Solve a man's problems by opening your legs. Well aren't I a classy bitch? She snorted and shook her head into her knees. She knew that last thought had been more wishful thinking on her part. I have no heart. Me, the heartless succubus, completely overlooking the fact that his only family was killed.

Anger wiped everything else clear away as she fumed. Seth Baxter. Scum of the earth. Something should be done about him. The piece of shit was all safe and comfy in state prison. He wouldn't be out for a long time. Well after both she and Hoffman retired... hopefully.

She stood back up and returned Angelina's photograph on its resting place on the shelf before grabbing her coat. It was well past sunset. She opened the door to the main floor of desks, phone calls, rookies, and the local flavor of drunkards handcuffed to benches. The floor was a hell on roller skates on a normal day. Cthulhu on crack on the worst. But even on their slowest days it was never quiet. Will knew it would never be dead-never completely empty every. Even on Christmas. The department was always hot and alive. The city never slept. And neither did their bluejackets.

She put her coat on and made a beeline to the staircase, hoping to avoid any lingering conversation. She had to track Hoffman down and apologize. Hopefully he'd agree to try to get some sleep, too.

"Hey, Maddox, you watch the game last night?"

"No, Bradshaw, sorry, got to go." She cast a quick smile toward one of the guys before escaping through the heavy doors. Her brain buzzing, her heart thumping, and her mind spinning with worry. She had no idea that she would regret not going straight home herself that night.