John grinned. "First we take things out of the refrigerator," he teased, walking towards the refrigerator.
"I know that," Amanda retorted. "I'm not that stupid."
She sounded vaguely hurt, and John realized that maybe the teasing had been too early. After all, the real reason he was teaching her was because John knew that, at some point, he would lose his ability to take care of himself. Most likely, it would not be for another two years, but the doctors had predicted that as the tumor grew and the headaches increased, it would become virtually impossible for him to do anything that did not involve sitting down or, later on, lying down.
Amanda now knew that he was sick, and had roughly five years left. Although John hadn't been explicit, he guessed that Amanda had some idea about the physical deterioration of his body during this time. If she was still there when John needed her most, Amanda needed to be able to take care of him entirely. This meant leaving how to prepare food for him.
Especially since he would no longer be able to provide for her.
Yet he had to keep the mood lighthearted or else there was the very real danger that Amanda would break down, and then he would break down. Then, when John lost his ability to function, they would both starve.
"Let's start with something basic," John suggested. "How about toast?"
Amanda raised her eyebrows. "Do you have a toaster?"
John nodded, opened a set of drawers, and removed it. "I don't use it much, but it should still work."
"Okay."
He plugged in the toaster, turned it to "medium", and retrieved some bread from the refrigerator. "Put it in carefully, like this." He slowly inserted a piece of bread. "Don't force it, but don't be afraid of it. Your turn."
He handed the other piece of bread to Amanda, who cautiously followed his instructions. The click showed that she had done everything right.
"Good job, kitten," he smiled. She grinned back, face turning red. "Once you hear a popping sound, that means it's done. I set it to medium, so it will be burnt around the edges, but not entirely burnt. When it's done, it will pop out of the toaster and then you should—carefully—grab the part of the bread that's popped out. You might want to wait a few seconds so it doesn't burn you."
Amanda nodded. "What if it's not done enough?"
"Then you put it back in and place it on a higher setting. Also, always unplug the toaster when you're done, and don't run water near it, or else you'll electrocute yourself."
Suddenly, there was a popping noise and Amanda nearly jumped out of her skin. John tried not to laugh.
"That just means it's done. I'll take the first one…" He gingerly lifted the bread out of the toaster, aware of how intently Amanda was watching him. "Your turn."
Amanda approached the second piece of bread as though it were a bomb that was about to explode. Hands shaking, she put her fingers around the nearest corner and pulled. She yelped in surprise when it came out and didn't burn her, nearly dropping the bread in the process. John rolled his eyes.
"Good work, kitten," he said, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "You can relax, though. It's not going to bite you." Amanda managed a laugh. "Now comes the hard part…do you want yours with jelly or without?"
"What kind do you have?"
John checked the refrigerator. "Apricot, strawberry, and raspberry."
"Raspberry, please."
John removed the jar from the shelves and then retrieved two plates and a knife from the drawers. He eagerly spread jelly on his piece, and then handed the knife to Amanda. She seemed much more at ease with this stage.
"Mmm," she mumbled as she took a bite. She closed her eyes briefly. "This is good."
John laughed, but it was true. The first cooking lesson had gone fairly well. Granted, things would get harder from here, but it was nice to know that Amanda could successfully make one of his favorite foods.
Next lesson is pancakes, he decided, finishing the bread.
After they had finished, John poured some cheerios into two bowls and handed Amanda a glass of milk. "The first lesson went well. I think that's enough for today, though. From now on, I'll show you how to make something, at least once a day." He paused, then added, "After a week, there will be a test."
Amanda groaned. "No way," she grumbled.
"The test won't be life or death. You won't even get graded," John promised, hugging her with his free arm. "It's just to see what you've learned and what we need to work on."
She pouted, but he saw comprehension in her eyes. "Fine."
This move, he realized, satisfied both John and Jigsaw. In order for John's work to continue, after all, he had to teach Amanda how to take care of him. It might be fun, but Jigsaw understood its necessity.
Somehow, knowing the reason behind this made it much less enjoyable for John. He hated thinking that everything he was doing had some ulterior motive. Even though he loved Amanda as a daughter, she was still a means to an end. Unless he decided to give up on the traps altogether, that would remain a constant in their relationship.
He hated this. He could see the improvement, the daily improvement, within the girl. She was happier, more confident, and more productive. Even Jigsaw believed that as long as people were these three things, they didn't need to be tested.
This meant that if he was any other person living under Jigsaw's rules, he could be happy living a carefree life with Amanda as his adopted daughter. He could watch her life her life, and become a part of it. If she met someone, got married, and had children, they would all become a part of John's life.
Instead, he was sentencing himself to a life of isolation. What Amanda did after his death was no concern of his. She could get married and have children, or adopt children, or even adopt children and not get married. But not until after he was dead, and even then she would have to keep this life a secret from them, or involve them completely.
The second choice disturbed John. He liked the idea of Amanda marrying a nice man and together, they would continue John's work. He did not like the idea of raising a child in this sort of world. It would be unfair to the child, and what's more, the child would never fully understand what it meant to appreciate life because he, or she, would always be judging others to see if they were appropriate test subjects.
A part of John wanted to abandon his work entirely and live the rest of his days with Amanda. The trouble with this, he knew, was that other people's appreciation of life was at stake. Abandoning the tests and traps would be selfish. Since he would die soon, it was up to him to create a legacy that Amanda would follow.
He watched the woman as she carefully ate her cheerios, staring at the pattern on the bowls. They were lined with flowers, and had belonged to Jill. That had been when she had moved in with him, expecting that this would make him propose. When she moved out, she forgot about the bowls and John didn't have the heart to throw them out, girly as they were.
"Were these your family's?" Amanda asked quietly, staring at the pattern.
"Not exactly," he sighed. "They belonged to Jill."
She looked up at him. "Your daughter?"
He laughed. "Past girlfriend. She left awhile ago."
"When you got sick?" Amanda questioned, setting the empty bowl down on the island.
John shook his head. "No, well before then." He didn't want to say anymore. Thinking about her still hurt. "Come on. You need to bathe, and get dressed."
Amanda nodded, not asking any more questions, but understanding that John's Jill must have been like her Mike. She reached out to hold his hand, and he accepted it.
A/N: I know, kind of short chapter. I'm struggling with writer's block. Once again, I need five reviews before I post the next chapter, and if anyone has some advice for future chapters, I'd be glad to hear it!
Also: I just want to make it clear that this fic is not Amanda/John. Their relationship is how the movies describe it—father/daughter. I'm not opposed to Amanda/John fics, nor to them as a couple, but you won't find that here. At all.