Disclaimers: I do not own Saw or any characters.

Other: Hey! :) I'm back - and so are Lawrence and Adam! So, I left you with a nice cliffhanger. Why couldn't Adam walk any further? Well, this chapter explains why. ^^ But the best part? Adam and Lawrence are reunited! ...For now. ;D Thanks for reading this far, haha.

Lawrence, frozen, stared in confusion at his phone, which was beeping rapidly, letting him know the connection had been broken. His body took on a numb-like feeling, goosebumps popping up on his arms and neck. He hadn't heard from the boy in almost a year, and suddenly he calls, apparently unable to walk into Lawrence's home. He didn't know what Adam must have meant by not being able to walk any longer. What if this was some cruel joke? But for whatever reason, Lawrence didn't think it was a joke. He tossed the phone onto the couch and hurried to his door, not allowing himself to run. Running would make him seem like he was panicking. And if Adam saw him panicking, and he was only messing with him, Lawrence would feel very stupid. So he rushed outside, not even bothering to shut the door, and went down the stairs two at a time. The elevator would take too long. Once he was outside, the rain was already pouring so hard it was difficult to see well. Lawrence squinted his eyes, searching for Adam. He didn't see him. He stood there in the rain, gazing about, trying to force the feelings of anger and hurt away. He even went as far as to jog out into the rain, looking around. But Adam was nowhere to be seen. Finally, absolutely soaked, he gave up. He wasn't sure why Adam would play such a dirty joke, but he didn't even want to think about the kid. He'd only upset himself further. Instead, he turned around, and began heading back to his apartment with a sigh. Lawrence glimpsed to his right on his way inside.

And there, curled up in a tight ball by a tall bush, was Adam. Lawrence broke into a run in that direction and knelt down by the boy. Adam's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and blood ran down his face in a thick stream. His mouth and nose were covered in the bright red blood as well, and there were large red stains on his gray cotton shirt. He was shaking. Lawrence scooped him up into his arms and carried him into the apartment. Adam was unbelievably light, Lawrence noted, as he hurried him into the living room. He set Adam down onto the black leather couch and tugged his shirt off, tossing it onto the glass coffee table, where it landed with a wet slap. His jeans soon followed, as well as his socks. His shoes were removed and dropped carelessly onto the floor. Now that Adam was undressed, aside from his boxers, Lawrence moved Adam's lean body into a more comfortable position. He was unconscious; his body had lost all tension, and he looked even younger.

"Alright, let's see what we've got here," the doctor muttered under his breath as he knelt down beside the couch. He examined the damage. There were large, dark bruises all over Adam's pale body. They were fresh, it seemed, so they would get even darker over night. He also had very shallow, minor stab wounds, which Lawrence quickly cleaned and stitched. It was obvious that the person who had done this to him had wanted to afflict pain, not death or serious injury. Adam had a nice gash at his left temple, his lower lip was plump and split, and his nose was bleeding rather heavily. All in all, there were no serious injuries. Lawrence cleaned each scrape, cut, and bruise, as well as his face, for it was caked with blood. Once the wounds were cleaned, he bandaged them securely.

This all took about half an hour, and when he finished he examined his work. He looked at Adam fondly. It was clear that the kid hadn't slept or eaten properly in weeks, perhaps months. There were deep purple bags under his eyes, and he was an almost unhealthy pale, and as thin as he'd last remembered, though he had gained a few pounds, five at most. What was also clear was that Adam had done drugs but had cleaned up. There were tiny red puncture marks up Adam's arms where heroin might've been injected, and the soft flesh around Adam's nose and mouth were red, which indicated possible usage of cocaine or pot, maybe both. There were no bumps, however, which definitely meant that he had stopped using drugs. If he hadn't, Adam would've looked a whole lot worse. He felt a little proud for the kid. It wasn't easy getting unhooked. It was hard, painful work.

Adam's body was lean, and the muscle he had weren't acquired by working out. Those were muscles that he had taken on from running for his life many, many times. Which made sense; after all, he had been a druggie at some point, and he was still a freelance photographer, and a voyeur at times, though Lawrence knew he never took sexual pleasure while working as a voyeur. He did what he did for the money and for his passion of photography. It was very dangerous work, because people got angry if they found out they've been being stalked, or when their spouse or whoever hired Adam finds out those dirty secrets they've been keeping and Adam had exposed.

Lawrence felt a sudden urge to hug this worn out boy. He wanted to protect him, to help him feel better. Lawrence pushed the silly, random ideas out of his head and stood up. He started a fire in the fireplace, and then dumped Adam's soaked clothes as well as his own into a hamper. He was cold and wet, and in desperate need of a shower. So for the next twenty minutes, he stood in the shower, allowing the hot water to warm his flesh. Lawrence gazed impassively at the mosaics that layered the walls of the bathroom. It was strange knowing that Adam was asleep in his living room. They'd spent a day chained to a pipe in a dirty, foul-smelling bathroom, with a supposedly dead guy in the center of the bathroom, nearly a year ago. Lawrence had shot Adam, who ended up saving his life. Adam had endured a lot in that bathroom. He watched Lawrence cut his own foot off. Lawrence vaguely remembered the intense pain, but he did strongly remember Adam screaming at Lawrence to not do it, that help would come eventually. The boy had collapsed onto the floor, sobbing hysterically as Lawrence ignored his pleads. And, of course, Lawrence could never forget how Adam had so desperately pleaded him not leave him all alone in that dreadful bathroom. The short kiss they had shared before Lawrence abandoned him, leaving the poor kid all by himself in that hell hole for two more days. Lawrence was surprised Adam hadn't been shipped off to a loony bin when he was freed.

The doctor got out of the shower once the water ran cold. He did his nightly rituals; brushing his teeth, shaving, and throwing on a pair of pajamas. When he walked out into the living room to check on Adam, he found the boy still asleep. His young, adorable face was flushed a sort of pink from the heat of the crackling fire, and he looked very comfortable.

Enjoy it, Lawrence thought, a faint smile on his lips. He then retired to his bedroom, where he slept on a bare bed, having given his blanket to Adam.

A cold, sweaty hand caressed his tear-stained cheek, and he shuddered, not daring to open his eyes.

"All of your life you had hidden away. You had locked yourself away, avoided others. Now you truly are locked away. And do you even deserve to be let out? If you were to be freed, you would only continue cowering behind the wall you have built around your mind and heart. Would you try to let people in?" purred Jigsaw. Adam cringed as the killer's nails dug into the flesh of his cheek.

"Do you honestly believe you deserve to live? Do you? Nobody cares about you. Nobody loves you. What would you be returning to? A trashy apartment and a low-paying, pathetic excuse of a job. There are no special people in your lives; no loved ones, no family, no friends. Tell me, you sweet child, you. Why do you bother living?" Jigsaw removed his hand from Adam's face, only to stroke his hair. Adam's heart was absolutely racing with terror. His trembling body broke out into a sweat.

"If you're going to kill me, then do it, asshole," Adam snarled, surprised by how steady his voice was. Jigsaw chuckled.

"Kill you? Why, I don't kill people, Adam. I only sit back and watch the games. If you win, you live. If you lose, well, I suppose you die. But I myself have never actually killed anyone, Adam."

Adam shook his head, ducking his head between his knees so that Jigsaw wouldn't see the fresh tears that coursed down his bloody face.

"You're insane," Adam said. Jigsaw laughed. It was an unpleasant, scratchy laugh that sent chills down Adam's spine. The laugh was followed by a series of dry coughs.

"Am I? Am I really insane? Or am I actually a genius who gives people wake up calls, who helps people achieve a second chance at life? Really, Adam, you must stop being such a shallow minded child. I must be going now. Enjoy yourself," Jigsaw said pleasantly. Adam heard him get up from the bloody, dirty tiled floor. He heard him leave the room, shutting off the lights, closing and locking the door behind him. When Adam opened his eyes, there was complete and utter darkness. There was not an ounce of light; he couldn't even see his hand in front of his own face. Panic and sudden claustrophobia ballooned within Adam, and he curled into an even tighter ball, trying to make his body even smaller, to protect himself and create a false sense of security. He could hear Jigsaw's mocking, horrifying laugh from outside the room, and he let out a dry sob. Lawrence would never come back for him. If he had even survived the crawl to the front door, that is.

Adam's eyes slowly opened. He was warm and comfortable. There was a fire crackling close by, but other than that there was only a pleasant silence. For a good ten minutes, he simply lay there, gazing sleepily at the fire, enjoying the comfort he was in. He hadn't been so warm and comfortable since…It had been way too long; he couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt so…safe. Yes, he definitely felt safe lying here. But, of course, wonderful things never last long. He eventually shifted, and the memories of last night flooded mercilessly back into his mind, along with the memory of his nightmare. His body ached like hell, and he wished he hadn't moved. He groaned quietly, rubbing at his eyes, licking his lips. His lower lip was swollen, and it tasted faintly of blood.

"Good morning. How do you feel?"

Adam flinched violently, startled by the sudden voice of Lawrence. He raised his head. Lawrence was standing about a yard from the couch, wearing formal wear as usual; black formal pants and a baby blue colored silk dress shirt, un-tucked. Lawrence smiled apologetically.

"Like I've been hit by a fucking bus," Adam replied bitterly, scowling. Lawrence nodded.

"Yeah, you look it, too. Bruises cover a good fifty percent of your body. What happened?" the doctor said. Adam stared at him blankly, and then glanced downward at his bare chest, as if just realizing that he was mostly undressed. He blushed, lowering his head.

"You took my clothes?" he asked, bewildered and embarrassed.

"Calm down. I left your boxers on, didn't I? I'm a doctor; I've seen everything before, I doubt you have anything nobody else does. Besides, you can't just sleep in soaked clothes. You'll get sick that way. I cleaned you up and bandaged you," Lawrence explained. He bit his lip to keep back a smile as Adam remained blushing. The younger man shifted on the couch with a wince.

"That's still really weird, though! I mean…you undressed me…while I was sleeping. Next I'll find you watching me in the shower," Adam muttered, his fingers playing with the edges of the blanket. It was a nervous habit, Lawrence realized; Adam was incapable of sitting still. He was always fidgeting or moving. Even in the bathroom, the kid had always been pacing or pulling at the chain that connected his ankle to the rusty pipe.

"That wouldn't be so bad," Lawrence commented absent-mindedly, without thinking. Adam looked at him, tilting his head to the side. Now it was Lawrence's turn to blush. He avoided eye contact with Adam, but couldn't help but notice a devilish grin appear on Adam's face.

"Hey. Come here," Adam suddenly said. Lawrence glanced over at Adam. He had lied back down against the pillows on the couch. He looked quite cozy and adorable, which was the only reason why he walked over. When he was right by the couch, he opened his mouth to ask what he needed, but Adam grabbed his arm and pulled him down. Their faces were a mere inch apart, if even. Lawrence gazed calmly at Adam. Why wasn't he afraid or startled? He only felt hope and expectation. Adam slid his free hand up Lawrence's shirt and felt up his warm, firm, muscular torso.

"How is it fair that I am mostly naked, and you are fully clothed, Dr. Gordon?" he murmured, brushing his lips slowly across Lawrence's jaw. His fingers traced every line of muscle on the doctor's chest and moved his hand across his ribcage, to his back. Lawrence closed his eyes half-way, silent. Adam's hands were a little cold and kind of rough, but they felt good. Adam's hand wrapped around the back of Lawrence's neck and pulled him even closer. Their chests were practically touching, and Lawrence thought that Adam was going to kiss him. But no, Adam was still teasing him. He put his lips to the doctor's ear, one hand falling to Lawrence's thigh, very close to his crotch. A spark of heat flashed in Lawrence's stomach and groin; he was turned on.

"You know what I really…really…want…no…need?" Adam whispered, his voice deepened and husky, absolutely dripping with sensuality. Lawrence shivered at the sound of Adam's voice, growing slightly hard.

"Wh-What?" the doctor asked, tripping over his own words. Adam didn't reply for a moment, taking Lawrence's earlobe between his soft, warm lips. The boy smirked at the sight of the beginning of a bulge in Lawrence's pants.

"A beer," Adam replied, releasing Lawrence and grinning widely at him. Lawrence stared at him, shocked, and a little dazed. Realization dawned. Adam had only been messing with him, purposefully turning him on to tease him. Lawrence smacked Adam's shoulder, tense. Adam glowered at him.

"Hey, man! I'm all bruised up over here!" he complained. Lawrence rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen to get them both a beer.

"Good," he called back, and opened the fridge, studying the contents. There wasn't much; a few cans of beer, a jar of pickles, an unopened package of hotdogs, a bottle of ketchup, a bottle of mustard, a jar of jelly, a jug of milk, a carton of orange juice, and a bag of fruit. He grabbed two cans of beer and closed the refrigerator.

He was a little shaken up by what had happened. He was also a little confused and disappointed. Why would Adam do that? And why hadn't he gone further? He realized how hard his heart was pumping. Had he really been turned on by the younger man? A blush crept to his cheeks. Well, according to his cock and heart, he had been. He sighed. Was it so wrong? Lawrence stopped at the corner of the kitchen, pressing the cold can to his forehead, taking a few deep, steadying breaths. Alright, so Lawrence was attracted to a man; a younger, very adorable man. So what? He nodded a few times to himself, and then stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Staring at the couch, he gaped, surprised. No, this was not happening. No way. Not again.

Thanks for reading! Please review! :)