After the Rain Before the Storm Chapter 8: Listen Closely, a saw fanfic

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Amanda/Michelle moment, a little more emotional then most considering I wanted to explore Amanda's "softer" side.

Inspired by Eminem's song "Beautiful". I believe it truly describes the emotional struggle of the protagonist.

Lately I've been hard to reach, I've been too long on my own. Everybody has a private world where they can be alone. Are you calling me? Are you trying to get through? Are you reaching out for me like I'm reaching out for you…

She tapped the pen methodically, letting it waver back and forth between her fingers. She was completely oblivious to everything around her, staring aimlessly at the pen as it teetered and spun with her subtle movements. Two tears mindlessly streamed down her cheeks, those usually bright eyes very dull and lifeless at the moment. Her gaze shifted very slowly to the doorway as she hard the pained coughing coming from the medical room and she sighed, closing her eyes tightly and rising from the chair as the pen toppled to the floor - but she didn't go into the medical room, instead she pushed her way through the plastic flaps and headed into the lair. When she got to the middle of the room she stood there silently, her head dropping as she fingered the bottom hem of her shirt, staring blankly at the concrete.

I'm just so fuckin' depressed I just can't seem to get out this slump. If I could just get over this hump but I need something to pull me out this dump. I took my bruises, took my lumps, fell down and I got right back up. But I need that spark to get psyched back up in order for me to pick that mic back up. I don't know how or why or when I ended up in this position I'm in. I'm starting to feel distant again so I decided just to beat this pain up and tried to make an attempt to vent but I just can't admit or come to grips, with the fact that I may be done with rap, I need a new outlet. I know some shits so hard to swallow but I just can't sit back and wallow in my own sorrow. But I know one fact: I'll be one tough act to follow, one tough act to follow, I'll be one tough act to follow. Here today, gone tomorrow but you'd have to walk a thousand miles…

The fiery brunette had a bit of a skip in her step as she walked into the room, ruffling her hair with a towel to dry it but she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the redhead standing quietly in the middle of the room. Pursing her lips together, Amanda smirked a bit and raised her chin, piping up to get her attention "Hey. What's a matter? On your emotional period rollercoaster?" She was caught off guard as the young woman looked up at her, brows furrowing in frustration, her cheeks stained red from crying for quite some time it seemed. She watched a few tears roll down them before Michelle shook her head and sneered, turning on her heel. Amanda heard the pained coughing fit and looked over at the doorway before realizing that perhaps she had been a little too cruel. As Michelle headed towards the door to leave, Amanda picked up the pace, placing her hand on her shoulder and squeezing to get her to stop, turning her around to face her. "Look, I'm so--"

"…don't even apologize to me Amanda. I'm done with this." Shrugging off Amanda's hand she attempted to make it to the door one more time but she felt someone grab her hand, turning to look at the hand gripping her own before looking up into the eyes of the one person who wished death on her more passionately then anyone else in her life.

Sighing, Amanda yanked her, causing her to come back down the stairs and drug her over to one of the tables, pushing the pre-made traps off to the side and pulling out a chair. She pushed her down into the chair and leaned over, grabbing another and pulling it up next to her own. "Look, I'm sorry. What's going on? You're going downhill fast and I'm not the only one that sees that. And by the way, John would be horribly disappointed if he found out you were going out to get something to drink to deal with whatever is bothering you. Do you really want to hurt him?" Frowning, she tilted her head to the side, watching the fiery haired woman wipe the tears away as she listened to her. For the first time the two women made eye contact without the intention of wanting to tear each other apart. Amanda was genuinely concerned - not for her, but for John. If John really loved her as much as he said he did, she didn't want to see her break his heart by being a disappointment. Leaning back into the chair, she propped her boots up on the table, kicking something over in the process but not too worried about it. She folded her hands in her lap and listened intently - she was going to get to the bottom of all of this, for John.

In my shoes, just to see what it's like, to be me. I'll be you, let's trade shoes just to see what it'd be like to feel your pain, you feel mine. Go inside each other's minds just to see what we find. Look at shit through each other's eyes. But don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful OoOo, they can all get fucked, just stay true to you sOoOoo. Don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful OoOo they can all get fucked, just stay true to you.

She cautiously watched Amanda for a little bit, unwilling to even open her mouth to this woman who clearly would give anything for her to be completely out of the picture. Shaking her head 'no', she simply looked at her hands for a few minutes before her eyes traced over the scars running up her wrists to her forearms. Shuddering visibly, she groaned and dropped her head back with her eyes closed, unable to control the sudden flow of tears. Dropping her head forward again, she took a deep breath, realizing if she simply kept all of this inside it would only cause more pain to deal with alone and if Amanda was listening, even if she didn't care, it was at least something to bounce her frustrations off of. "Every day is a new struggle, a new internal battle that I continually try to fight. I lost two of the most important people in my life years ago - two people that were there for me, no matter my faults. I bottled up the pain of my father's death so long that when my mother was murdered, I completely lost my mind. I spent years in therapy, psychiatric wards, and institutions to try and get over my addiction not only to death, but to pills." Looking over to her right for a moment she could see that Amanda was actually intently listening to her, her lips pursed into a tight line in quiet thought. Looking back to her arm, she ran her fingers over the scars and sighed deeply "I knew John a long time before here. I saw him every week and suddenly he started coming into the store every single day. Then I didn't understand, but now I do. We used to sit down for coffee and talk about his life - Jill, Gideon, his "work" which I was unaware of what it was at that time. John's whole world changed when he lost his son, his wife, and essentially his life. My whole world changed because I selfishly couldn't pull myself away from it and never wanted to. Then I end up here, trying to kill myself twice since being here - once by my choice and the other because I was so stressed over this world and couldn't pull myself away from it. And I got to see how much I really wanted to die and…I realized I didn't want to." Biting her bottom lip for a moment, a single tear slid down her cheek and reached up to brush it away, shaking her head. "Then I find out that I've grown attached to a man that basically put me in harm's way to just teach me a lesson about appreciating my life. Hopelessly attached at that, to the point I can't even listen to him suffer, I can't stand to be away for extended periods of time, and I agonize every day of my life about what happens after all of this. How do I walk back out onto the streets and live my life as if nothing happened? I asked myself that question when my mother and father died and now I'm asking myself this all over again. I hate this pain, I hate the pain of loving someone…"

I think I'm starting to lose my sense of humor, everything is so tense and gloom I almost feel like I gotta check the temperature in the room. Just as soon as I walk in it's like all eyes on me so I try to avoid all eye contact cause if I do that then it opens a door to conversation. Like I want that...I'm not looking for extra attention I just want to be just like you: blend in with the rest of the room, maybe just point me to the closest restroom. I don't need fucking man servin' tryin to follow me around, and wipe my ass, laugh at every single joke I crack. And half of them ain't even funny like that. "Ahh Marshall, you're so funny man, you should be a comedian, god damn" Unfortunately I am, but I just hide behind the tears of a clown so why don't you all sit down, listen to the tale I'm about to tell. Hell, we don't gotta trade our shoes and you ain't gotta walk no thousand miles.

The last part was whispered but Amanda clearly heard it, her boots sliding off the table as she ran her fingers through her hair, watching the woman before her shake with the reality that she would have to learn to live all over again if she chose to not stay here. Clearly she was thinking about this for quite some time, about leaving and never coming back but Amanda had to appreciate the fact that she felt so devoted to John that she always drug herself back. It would be so easy for her to disappear but clearly she knew that not only would she hurt John, she would hurt herself. Thinking for a moment, she finally knew what she wanted to say to the ailing heart of the woman before her. "Don't you dare tell John I told you this, do you understand me?" She waited for her to look at her, nodding in understanding. "John…John loves you. I don't think you understand how much to be honest and as much as I hate to say it, you being here for him is what he needs now no matter how much it hurts you. John would suffer worse without you here, you seem to be his definition of perfection."

She laughed and shook her head slowly, placing her hands on the table and pulling a trap forward to run her delicate touch over the cold metal. "I am not John's definition of perfection, believe me. If anyone holds that title, it's Jill. She was and always will be John's definition of perfection. I'm here because John wanted to save me, because he felt I was worth more then I thought I was--"

"Because he wanted to give you someone to love and the confidence to believe you're worth more then you think you are." Amanda, in spite of herself, reached over placing her hand on top of one of Michelle's, watching her make eye contact with her. "Look, I understand your pain, more then you realize. You've suffered and lost a lot in the past and now you're going to understand what it's like to suffer all over again, but you need to be strong for John. He believes in you, believes in everything you are. These scars--" she ran her fingers over them watching her shudder in disgust at the mere idea of them and pulled her arm harder "--look at them. What do they tell you about yourself? That you can get through anything. If you can survive Jigsaw's games, you can survive life." Letting go of her arm she pulled up her sleeve, rolling it up to expose the number of scars adorning her skin and watched the pained expression on Michelle's face. "I've done this for year, especially without the drugs in my life anymore. I was on the verge of death myself and John helped me, he saved me. Others saw me as hopeless but he didn't. I did this because of my inability to detach myself from John and the pain of dealing with the two of you together. I still can't stand it, but I made a promise to Hoffman." The tone of her voice changed as she exchanged her inner thoughts and feelings to what she deemed an 'enemy'. Pushing the chair back, she stood up, leaning down and grabbing hold of her face, turning it to her own and forcing her to look her in the eye. "Listen carefully to me, don't you dare hurt John. You will fucking stay here and suck it up, be there for him, and love him. Drop the fucking alcohol and get over your self pity. You can handle this, but you have to dig deep to what John sees in you, not what pathetic life you see in yourself. And don't think this changes anything, because it doesn't. Now go take care of him." Pushing her face off to the side as she let go, Amanda scoffed and started to walk away, picking the towel up off the edge of the table. As she walked out of the room she felt a sense of pain and satisfaction at the same time. She wouldn't allow this pathetic excuse for a human being to abandon John in his darkest hour, no matter how much it hurt her. She couldn't help but to pity the girl though because in spite of her hard exterior, Amanda did have a hidden heart.

Sitting in silence for a few moments as she watched Amanda leave the room she sighed and brought both hands up, pushing her hair back out of her face. She could hear the weak voice of John calling to her and leaned back in the chair, pushing it away from the table before rising from it. Amanda was right, she had to suck it up, but what didn't help was the revelation of how John really felt - although he physically showed it, he never expressed it openly to her and in turn she would never openly express it to him - such were the games that guarded hearts played. Walking out of the lair, she headed into the medical room not only to check on John and care for him, but perhaps to come to terms with the reality that she would continue down the path of death and destruction…her own.

Nobody asked for life to deal us with these bullshit hands we're dealt, we gotta take these cards ourselves and flip them, don't expect no help. Now I could have either just sat on my ass and pissed and moaned but take this situation in which I'm placed in and get up and get my own. I was never the type of kid to wait by the door, unpack his bags and sat on the porch and hoped and prayed for a dad to show up who never did. I just wanted to fit in every single place, every school I went. I dreamed of being that cool kid even if it meant acting stupid. Aunt Edna always told me "Keep making that face and it gets stuck like that" meanwhile I'm just standing there holding my tongue trying to talk like this. Till I stuck my tungue on the frozen stop sign poll at 8 years old. I learned my lesson then cause I wasn't tryin to impress my friends no more but I already told you my whole life story. Not just based on my description cause where you see it from where you're sitting it's probably 110% different. I guess we would have to walk a mile in each other's shoes, at least. What size you where? I wear tens, let's see if you can fit your feet