A/N: My first Saw fanfic. Tell me if you want to read more and I will write it.
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The detective stares at me, distrusting, like I put myself into the situation that nearly cost me my life. He asks again,
"What happened in there? How did you survive?"
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The door slid shut and I was blind. But still I screamed. I screamed until my lungs were worn out and my throat was drier than sand. I screamed until my voice gave out and I could only lay on top of Zepp's corpse, exhausted and hopeless. I was going to die and no one could save me. Lawrence had either bled out or Jigsaw caught up with him. I didn't know which was worse. I don't know how long I lay there, bleeding, sobbing, choking on my own spit. I wondered as I lay, Zepp's body slowly getting colder and stiffer, how long would it take for me to die? I knew I wouldn't be able to kill myself; I just didn't have the willpower. I was weak and I knew it. And Lawrence...Lawrence was so strong, so dedicated to saving his family. But he wasn't strong enough to kill me. I wondered why he hadn't killed me, why he shot me in the shoulder instead of the head or anywhere else vital. I was nothing to him. I was the guy who followed him and took photo evidence of his infidelity. Why would he want to save me? Leaving without stemming his own bleeding...risking his life...for me...for both of us. Why did he do that?
"Lawrence..." I often moaned, my voice pitifully feeble. That was one of the three things I did most often in the time following my abandonment. The other two included crying and sleeping. I don't know how I could keep crying...I thought my eyes would have dried up by now. But the tears came anyway, wet and plentiful. Some of the only things I knew in that blackness were wet and cold. But even as I forgot how to think, how to move, how to speak...I still called his name, seeing him before me, a brave smile on that pale face...I knew he wouldn't make it. I knew he only told me he'd bring back help to ease my pain. But as time dragged on in the darkness and my shoulder began to itch and ache with infection I knew the pain was only growing. And it would keep on growing until I became numb and stupid, an inch from death.
Towards the end I didn't care. I didn't care I was going to die any moment from either infection or hunger. I just wanted one last time with the man who spared my life. I wanted his palm on my cheek once more whispering consolations even if they weren't true. I wanted my own hands in his shirt, his sweat-matted blond hair, this time for longer. I had forgotten all other sensations apart from the cold...and his touch. So I knew in that moment when light spilled into the room, washing over me and blinding me with its brightness I had also forgotten, I was dead. There were footsteps and voices but I could not respond to them. I sat slumped in the corner, numb, lifeless, thinking of just one thing...
"Lawrence..." I breathed, my voice hoarse and virtually useless...my final word, final breath, final thought...and then I died.
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"Adam." I look up. The detective is still staring at me, waiting for my answer. My mouth opens but no sound comes out. I don't like speaking anymore. Even if I did it's become difficult. Ever since the bathroom I've had difficulty with everyday things I used to take for granted.
"Lawrence..." my shell of a voice croaks, the only thing I've been able to say clearly since the light was stolen from my world that day.
"Who's Lawrence?" I glare at the detective. How could he not know who Lawrence was? How could he not know the wonderful, flawed yet perfect man who tried to help me? How dare he not know!
"I think he means Dr. Lawrence Gordon," the attendant answers for me, "You know, the one your partner spoke to last week?" Hope flares inside me for what seems like the first time in a hundred years. I turn to the attendant, a young fresh-out-of-college nursing student with long blonde hair in a ponytail and a kind face.
"He's alive?" I ask, the first words apart from my friend's name I've spoken in a long time. The girl seems shocked too. At a loss for words for a minute or so, she nods fervently.
"Y-yes! Dr. Gordon was the one who told the police about you first." I stand, facing her.
"Where is he? Can I see him?" The detective behind me clears his throat.
"Not until we're finished here," he says angrily, "Now sit down and tell me what happened in-between the time Dr. Gordon left and the time the police found you." I look back at the man briefly.
"The door locked behind him," I explained, "I was trapped. Did you expect me to tell you unicorns rose up from Zepp's body to help keep me alive? Now, I'm sorry, detective, but I want to meet the guy who saved me." The words flowed from me so easily now. Is this what hope does to you? I follow the attendant back to her car and to the hospital, entirely in a fog. The whole time I keep wondering what the hell am I going to say to him? A simple thank you just wouldn't reflect my gratitude and adoration for the man.
"Well, Mr. Faulkner, here you go," the attendant says, "I'll leave you alone but call if you need me, okay?" I nod with excitement. She opens the door and I step in. Once again the only word I am able to say is,
"Lawrence..."