It was the bear trap nightmare again, but it was so much worse this time. For one thing, it felt more real. Amanda could swear she tasted the blood from the metal digging into her jaw. She could feel the man's organs as she searched his stomach for the key. This time, it wasn't there. She kept looking as the timer kept ticking. Suddenly, she had it in her hands, but it was slippery and fell out of her reach. It fell to the ground. Amanda pushed the body aside, trying to find the key, but the room was dark and the bear trap was ticking and ticking…

Suddenly the timer went off and she screamed as she felt it slowly expand, the pain increasing exponentially by the second.

If only it ended there. But just before she knew she was about to die, just when Amanda thought the searing pain would finally end, he was there.

She saw her father's face, laughing as he came at her, enjoying her pain but wanting to hurt her even more. He lunged forward…

"No! No!" she screamed in a half asleep state, tossing wildly under the blankets. She felt imprisoned by them instead of secure. She couldn't move. Her thoughts were fragmented. She had to find the key before the bear trap ripped her jaw open. Then she had to run away from her father before he could touch her…

She sat up so quickly her head hurt. Amanda heard herself breathing rapidly. She pulled the covers away from her upper body in an attempt to free herself. Somewhere inside her mind, Amanda knew it had just been a nightmare and she was not in any real danger, but it felt so real that this logic was submerged.

Except it was her that was being submerged. She felt hands on her shoulders, holding her down. She screamed and first tried to claw away at them, but when this didn't work, she tried to bite one of them. Her skin touched the flesh but she felt it rip away before she could clamp down. The hands let go and she could hear John's voice, but it was loud and angry, taking on a new level of power that she had never experienced before.

She opened her eyes and saw him standing over her. She cowered, still screaming. She couldn't stop.

"Amanda, stop it this minute!" he shouted, now sitting on the bed, unintentionally crushing her legs and putting a hand over her mouth forcefully.

Amanda stopped screaming, partly because she was afraid of John, but mostly because she was panting so much it was nearly impossible to do both. John removed his hand and transferred it to her other shoulder, and Amanda wondered if he was going to try and comfort her, but the grip was hard and John was now crushing both shoulders. She whimpered in pain and in disappointment.

Really, I should have known better, she realized.

But almost as soon as Amanda had begun to whimper, John let go of his hold on her upper body. He hadn't wanted to crush Amanda, after all, just scare her enough so that she would stop screaming and answer his questions.

It scared him to see Amanda in so much pain, but it worried John that it should bother him. He was becoming too close to the girl. And yet, if he wanted her to become his assistant, bonding with her seemed to be the only way to go. Fear only accomplished so much. Amanda might be loyal until John died, and then stop his work. It would be the easiest thing to do. John had to make Amanda understand why his work had to go beyond his death.

"Where is he?" she whispered, peering around the room.

John followed her gaze, absentmindedly pulling her into a sort of reverse hug. Her legs were still crushed, though, and John suspected that he might do permanent damage if they remained this way. He shifted his weight so the girl could move. She stretched gratefully.

"Where is he?" Amanda asked again.

"Your father?" John asked, looking down at her beautiful straight hair. Jill's had been blond and curly, somewhat wild and exotic, which he had loved, but Amanda's was straightforward and easy. It needed no taming, only gentle care. He wanted to stroke it, to play with it, but his arms were wrapped around the scared girl. She was not exactly sitting in his lap, but they were close enough that Amanda could smell the soap she used in the shower.

"What?" Amanda feigned confusion.

John momentarily closed his eyes. "The 'he' you were just speaking about. Do not lie to me, Amanda." He sounded so harsh, and his face was less than a foot away from hers. She felt powerless. "I want to help you," he added by means of amends.

"My father," she whispered, body aching. She wished he would get away from her, but John's body seemed immobile. "He was there. When it went off."

"When what went off?" John prodded, trying not to growl. He had no patience for this--why couldn't Amanda just come out and say what had happened? Clearly it had been worse than her recent nightmares that had been cured by soft words and hugs, but John couldn't help Amanda if she was determined to stay silent and self pitying.

"It…the trap…" She trailed off, not knowing the name. "It!" she repeated.

John's lips tightened and Amanda guessed he was trying not to smile. "Oh. That."

It was too much for her. "Let go of me!" she wailed, now wiggling out of his grip.

It wasn't hard--John let her go without a struggle. It took a moment for John to realize his mistake, but when he did, he spoke up immediately.

"Oh, Amanda, I didn't mean that," John self corrected, turning red. "I just didn't know what you meant when you said 'it' like that. I thought you meant something new…" He trailed off as Amanda's sobs increased. "Who's your father?" He asked on afterthought.

She turned around and gave John a horrible glare. "None of your fucking business!" she growled before turning away.

"Amanda…" He began to massage her shoulders. It occurred to John that he might have started with this. When Amanda let him, it always calmed her down. She was a scared animal, growling out of fear, but John knew that she would not try to bite her master again. He shouldn't have been so gruff when he found her screaming. Now, Amanda might not trust any kindness he performed. "Take a deep breath. Slowly," he instructed.

Amanda tried to obey. John felt her chest ride with the effort.

"Is he alive? Are you close?" he asked gently.

Amanda knew he was manipulating her, probing her for information, and it hurt. She hated to talk about it. She never talked about it. "He hurt me," she whispered, aware of how generic the words sounded. Hadn't she told the police that Jigsaw had helped her? Amanda had to be specific if she wanted his help, but she didn't know if she did.

Amanda had never really told anyone about her father's treatment. Her mom knew but couldn't, or wouldn't, do anything. Her sister was just as helpless. If she had told any of the teachers at her school, they would have called her a liar. Because the abuse was mostly emotional and sexual, Amanda did not have any physical scars to offer as evidence. This was something her father had taken great pains to point out when she, at age five or so, had yelled, "I'm gonna tell!"

Mike only knew the very basics; he locked her in the dark for hours on end. She didn't tell him about the sexual abuse because even though he didn't care that she wasn't a virgin, she thought he'd look at her differently if he knew. He'd pity her, and Amanda didn't want to be pitied.

She'd take understanding any day, of course, but she thought that this was too much to hope for. So she didn't.

But John was starting to understand. She could recognize the look of comprehension in his eyes. He didn't know what had happened for years on end, of course, but he had an idea.

"Did he hit you?" John asked softly, now rubbing the back of her neck.

Amanda nodded, with difficultly, and then shook her head. "Not like that."

John wrapped his arms around her shoulders and gently forced her to face him. "Another way?" he probed, staring into her chocolate brown eyes.

Amanda nodded slowly and then slouched forward. "I don't want to talk about it," she whispered. "Please."

John nodded, seeing that this was all he would get from her at that moment. She was so weak. Perhaps later, after Amanda had calmed down, he could find out more information. What he knew definitively was that the father aspect of the dream had been the worst part. Amanda had dreamed those bear trap dreams (as he called them) numerous times since her arrival. He had always been able to comfort her with hugs and gentle words. So what had been worse this time wasn't the test, but the paternal addition.

John hadn't known anything about Amanda's family before the test. Zepp had known nothing and he had acted as though it didn't matter. A girl doesn't overdose on drugs because of family issues when she lives with her sister, he had said, and John had claimed agreement.

"I want you to know," he said, slowly as he stroked her face with great care (a way to calm her as well as force Amanda to look at John), "that you can tell me anything without fear. They are all part of your old life…one of drug addiction, of being a stripper." Amanda flushed. "They won't hurt you here. I won't let them," he added, now gently pulling Amanda into his arms and propping her body against his as though she was a toddler.

Amanda nodded, somewhat unconvinced, but reassured. Pain relieved, she would not use the razor blade…not right away, anyway. John was offering her hope and, a new life with him. She knew that he could protect her in the ways that Mike couldn't, or hadn't wanted to. Maybe he wasn't really sick, and that had just been a test. Or maybe the diagnosis was incorrect and he'd live much longer.

"He won't hurt you. I promise," John added in a whisper.

Maybe he tests people because he just wants people to enjoy and appreciate life, she realized, nestling her head against his shoulders.

He began to stroke her hair with one hand and Amanda felt her worries vanish. John was the only one to protect her. Perhaps he would even see to it that her father would be made to understand his mistakes. She smiled lazily.

After several minutes of this, John spoke. "Let's have a picnic."

"What?"

"There's a park not too far away from here. I'll make us lunch and we can have a picnic over there." He glanced outside. "It looks warm out, so this may be a good day to have one."

It sounded nice. She hadn't been to the park since she was a child, but her memories of being there with her grandmother were fairly pleasant.

"Okay."

"Grab a sweatshirt or something from your new clothes in case it becomes cold," John instructed. "Also take your new blanket, but the one that isn't on your bed. I'll find an older one downstairs." He kissed her lightly on the forehead. "We should be ready to leave in fifteen minutes."

"Will we need to drive?" she asked lazily.

"It's short enough that we can walk. So don't bring too much," he added, smiling.

Of course, John knew that they would be bringing back something else with them. He had seen Amanda wake up from nightmares enough to realize that she could use a stuffed animal. Regardless of what she would say.

He would have to be discreet about it, though.

"Amanda? Time to get up," he nudged.

"Just a few more minutes," she mumbled. "Please?"

She looked so peaceful that John relented. "Five more, and then we're getting ready."

He was getting soft. Soon he'd be calling Amanda his secret pet name, "kitten", to her face and using baby talk. Why, they'd spend more time with each other than working on his traps.

But this was the way to bring Amanda to rely on him so that she would have to carry on his work.

Besides, John realized that he enjoyed the hugs and the sense of normalcy Amanda brought to him.

A/N: Please review! As always, five reviews secures the next chapter in a day. (fifth review received Monday morning means following chapter will be published before Tuesday night) So please, please, PLEASE review! Did I say please? ;)