Disclaimers: I do not own Saw or any of the characters.

Other: I'm sorry for taking so long to update. I was actually going to just stop writing this fanfic. XD Like, I was going to leave it to rot and collect dust. But I got some really nice reviews, and it motivated me to continue, so here we are. :'D Thanks guys, I really appreciated those reviews. They were so sweet, and each one made me smile. I know this isn't my best work, but it's nearly 2:30 in the morning, I'm sitting in my room in the dark, and I'm so tired that my contacts feel like they're glued to my eyes, haha! But I really wanted to update ASAP.

Anyway, thanks again for the reviews. :) If you guys have any suggestions, or what you think I should do next, what you want to happen, et cetera, feel free to tell me! ^^ I'd love that. Of course you'd get credit for giving me the idea. OH, before I leave you to enjoy this chapter, did you guys know that there's a Saw 0.5? They made it before releasing Saw 1 to see if people would be interested in the series. It features Adam, and he's so gorgeous. I strongly advise looking it up on you-tube. Just type in Saw 0.5, it's like 15 minutes long at best, but totally worth it. Let me know what you think if you watch it! :D

Enjoy!

The beeping of the machinery alerted the nurses' station. Within moments, nurses had swarmed the room, yelling orders to one another. Adam wasn't listening. He didn't hear any of this. He sat there, gazing numbly down at his mother, her blood dripping from his face. Someone grabbed his shoulder and shook him, demanding to know what had happened. Their words sounded a million miles away, and his brain forgot how to form words. He remained silent and unmoving.

The police arrived, of course, and snapped pictures, questioned the nurses, and approached Adam. They were frustrated and angered by Adam's stunned silence. The boy wouldn't – or couldn't – talk, and nobody could get his attention away from the corpse.

Lawrence burst into the room, panic clear on his face, and went straight to Adam. He knelt down, smacking Pam's hand away from Adam's wrist, and grabbed Adam's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Adam, tell us what happened," he said. He watched as Adam swallowed, a muscle jump in his jaw, but the younger man didn't reply. A police officer sighed heavily.

"He's in shock. We'll wait a few days before getting into contact with you. We need to speak to him. In the mean time, he's free to go home. Give us a call when he's recovered a bit," the officer said to Lawrence. Lawrence nodded. The body of Adam's mother was taken from the room in a body bag, and the nurses began to help remove the bloody sheets and recover the scalpel for 'evidence'. Adam's eyes remained focused on the bed.

"Adam, look at me, please," Lawrence begged. He gently took hold of Adam's chin and turned his head to face him. The empty deadness in Adam's eyes unsettled Lawrence. It twisted his stomach to see Adam so pale and bloody, so emotionless and unmoving, so silent. He didn't acknowledge Lawrence's presence, and it was like he was looking through Lawrence rather than at him.

Guilt flooded through Lawrence's body as his heart broke, his throat closing, his skin breaking out in goosebumps. He'd done this. He'd done this to his Adam. If he hadn't made Adam come here, this wouldn't have happened. Adam hadn't wanted to go. He'd been scared – terrified and in tears – and Lawrence had talked him into going anyway. Of course his mother hadn't changed. A psychopath is a psycho forever, they don't change. Why had he thought that Pam had changed? Even Adam had insisted that she hadn't, that she was probably lying. And Adam had been right, of course. But he'd gone anyway, because he'd wanted to please Lawrence and perhaps even finally gain the love he'd craved so badly from his mother. Obviously those plans had crashed and burned. The young man had absolutely no expression on his face, no emotion in those gorgeous eyes, and his lovely pale flesh was stained and dripping with the evil blood of his deceased mother.

It was obvious that Adam wasn't going to talk. He was traumatized. And he had every right to be. Lawrence swallowed hard and stood up, pulling Adam carefully up with him, unsure of whether or not the boy could support himself. He could; those dead eyes dropped to the floor though, as if he had to look at it to make sure it was still there for his feet to move across. Lawrence was holding Adam's hand, but it was limp, because Adam was giving zero effort in holding Lawrence's hand back. It was like holding the hand of a sleeping person.

He told the head nurse that he was going home early to help Adam, and that he'd try to have everything cleared up over the weekend. The nurse was too busy to argue; she simply nodded and went back to scrubbing blood off of the floor.

Once Lawrence had gotten Adam back to their apartment, he led him to the bathroom and made him sit down on the edge of the bath tub. He soaked a cloth in warm water and soap, and then began gently washing the blood from Adam's face and neck. It was silent in the bathroom. It was almost eerie; Adam hated silence. He would either fidget or ramble. But now he just sat there like an emotionless doll.

"Adam, I'm really sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn't made you go, this would have never happened. I don't know what occurred in the room, but I saw the results, and I…I'm so sorry, Adam. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have talked you into going. I knew you didn't want to, but I stupidly thought that Pam had changed," Lawrence said, his voice quivering slightly. Adam remained silent, his gaze still on the floor. Lawrence's eyes filled with tears and he finished washing Adam, changing him into a clean pair of boxers and tucking him into their large comfy bed.

"Adam, I love you. Please talk to me. Please…I can't stand seeing you like this," Lawrence begged, tugging the seemingly lifeless body into his arms, holding him tight to his body, as if that would make him go back to normal, as if his immense love for the young photographer would cheer him up, bring life back into his eyes, force that lopsided grin onto that mischievous face. But it didn't. Adam did not move or speak.

A couple of tears trickled down Lawrence's cheeks.

"I promise everything will be alright. Everything will be fine. I swear it on my life. We'll work things out," Lawrence whispered, pressing a kiss salty with tears against the side of Adam's neck.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next day, Lawrence spent most of the day in the home office on the phone, speaking to police officers, hospital staff, and news crew. Diana wasn't going to be with Lawrence for a while, because he'd decided he didn't have time to be taking care of both Diana and Adam right now while dealing with the suicide of Pamela Reynolds. It was too overwhelming, too much work, and he'd go crazy. Diana wasn't exactly pleased with this news; she wanted to be with Adam, unaware of his current state of mind. But Lawrence promised they'd go to an amusement park as soon as everything cleared up.

Adam never left the room. He'd go to the bathroom every couple of hours, but he refused to eat. He lied in bed all day, a weak, crumpled heap beneath the covers of the dimly lit bedroom, his eyes open and staring unseeingly at the wall.

Lawrence didn't know what to do. During his free time, he'd curl up on the bed with Adam, stroking his back and murmuring soft, affectionate words in his lover's ear, but he never received a response of any kind. Adam no longer leaned into his touch, looked at him, or made any sound. It was so strange, terrible, and heart breaking. How could you cure someone like this if you didn't even know what exactly had happened? It must've been really, really bad to throw Adam into such a deep depression.

Days went by, and Adam didn't change. He lost too much weight, the color disappeared from his face, and his empty eyes began to carry dark bags. Lawrence bathed him himself, and forced cold water into his mouth to keep him hydrated, but he couldn't force him to eat, it was impossible. It would be better if Adam was at least crying or looking at him. But he wasn't. He was just a shell of who he once was. He showed no signs of nightmares, because he wasn't even sleeping. And when he did sleep, it was in periods of twenty minutes every couple hours.

Adam had been broken.

This confident, sexy, adorable, funny, young man had finally been broken. The boy who seemed so strong, had finally crumbled. This wasn't Adam. It couldn't be. Where were those cheesy jokes? Lawrence remembered a particular time when he'd come home and noticed how cheerful Adam was.

"What's up?" he'd asked him.

"If I tell you, will you sit on it?" Adam had replied with a wide grin.

Where were those random, long, silent hugs, in which Lawrence would hold that lanky yet toned body to his own, feel his heart beat in sync with Adam's, and share body heat? Where were those loud, contagious laughs, those hungry kisses, those irresistible smirks? Where were the terrible nightmares? Where had the silly bickering gone, the crazy adventures of going to Chinese buffets at three in the morning, skinny dipping in the pool, Lawrence fearing the idea of being caught, while Adam actually hoped for it just for the memory?

Days turned into a week and a half.

That Adam was gone.

Who was this?

He didn't know, but it certainly wasn't Adam. His Adam had been broken.

Broken like a very used toy.

And though Lawrence tried desperately to patch him back up, to piece together the shattered pieces of Adam's heart and soul, he got nowhere. He was running to death on that treadmill, but as fast as he ran, he was getting nowhere.

Adam was broken.

And it seemed like he'd never be repaired.

Now that I've depressed you all, I'm going to bed. :D I hope you liked this chapter...as best you could, despite Adam's misfortune. Please review! Thank you! :) I'll try to update again this weekend, but I make no promises that I can't keep...usually. ;D Goodnight - or morning! :)