Sawed Chapter 15: Each Other To Have
Chikorita-Trainer1
T
Disclaimer: I don't own Saw or anything else I might reference or shamelessly rip off.
Allison pulled up in front of Adam's building, and he turned to her as he unbuckled his seat belt.
"Thanks again for the ride," he said. "But, uh, I can drive myself from now on."
"Oh, I didn't know you had a car," said Allison.
"Yeah. I mean, obviously, last night, I wasn't fit to drive," Adam admitted sheepishly.
"Certainly not," said Allison, with a hint of condescension in her voice. Adam was still pretty embarrassed at how close he had come to accidentally killing himself that night.
"See ya," he said casually as he closed the car door. He went inside and up to his unit.
He looked around at all his crappy stuff and sighed. It would be a tedious process, but he was ready to begin sorting through his possessions to decide what to keep and what to bring with him to start his new life with Lawrence.
Hours passed and Adam had filled up multiple garbage bags with old magazines, photographs and newspaper articles featuring clues about various people he had investigated and stalked in his life.
DVD's, alright, he could keep those. Why he still had some VHS tapes in this day and age, he couldn't recall, but they could be tossed.
All his furniture except his bed was crap, so he figured he would just take those items out to the alley after he got rid of all the small stuff.
He looked at his graffiti-covered apartment walls and doors, looked at the posters and metal street signs he'd adorned them with—his apartment really was like a big dorm room, indicative of his youth and immaturity. It kind-of made him wonder what Lawrence saw in him to begin with, but before he could start to doubt himself, the very thought of Lawrence made his heart swell with warmth, and he couldn't keep from smiling.
Taking the posters down and rolling them up, he realized he probably didn't have to give up all of the stuff he liked. He could put up the posters in his new dark room. And who knows? Maybe Lawrence wouldn't even mind having a few gen-X band posters around the new apartment. He loved Adam, didn't he? Wouldn't that mean he'd be willing to compromise on décor? Well, it didn't matter right now.
Back at the hospital, Lawrence was being checked up on by doctors and nurses. Under any other circumstances, he would have been anxious to heal up quickly and get back to work and his family, but instead he just felt pleasant. He was a little bored, of course, but he was mostly just relieved with the way things had worked out.
He was splitting amicably from Allison. Their divorce could have been ugly and vindictive, but she was fine letting him go. He knew that when they both met with their respective lawyers, there wouldn't be a lot of vicious sniping and blaming each other, and it would probably mean that she wouldn't try to screw him out of the highest amount of child support and alimony possible.
He did worry about Diana, of course. But during the short time he'd gotten to spend with her earlier that day, he had asked her opinion of the situation, and his daughter had explained pretty articulately that she understood that both her parents would be happier if they were no longer married and if Lawrence could be with Adam. It was a little weird, but nothing she couldn't handle. And she liked Adam.
He had told her how proud he was of her and of how mature she had been about the whole arrangement, and that no matter what, he loved her more than anything.
What he really wasn't looking forward to was the physical therapy. He wanted to get his prosthetic foot and get used to walking on it as quickly as possible, and more important, he wanted to be with Adam.
Later that evening, Adam had plopped down onto his bed to rest after making multiple trips back-and-forth out to the alley to throw stuff out, when his phone rang.
"Hello?" he asked groggily. He hadn't even bothered to look at it to see who was calling.
"Hey, it's me," came Lawrence's voice.
"Hey, how's it going?" said Adam, sitting up.
"Pretty good. Doctors said I'm making a way speedier recovery than they expected."
"That's great, man," said Adam.
"I think it's because of you," said Lawrence.
"Heh, what?" Adam chuckled.
"Having you there overnight really helped," said Lawrence.
"How?" Adam asked.
"You know," said Lawrence. "It aways helps to have someone you love by your side when you're healing."
"Oh. I thought you meant literally," said Adam.
"I did mean it literally," said Lawrence. "Emotional support really does make a difference. Why do you think therapy dogs are a thing?"
"Oh, so that's what I am to you—a therapy dog?" Adam teased. Lawrence chuckled.
"Yes, and I'd like to have you in my lap as soon as possible," he retorted playfully. They both laughed. "What are you up to?" Lawrence asked.
"Just cleaning out my place," said Adam. "You would not believe the shit I had piled up. I had some Rolling Stones from 1995!"
"Wow," said Lawrence. "Any particular reason?"
"I can't think of one," said Adam. "Um, so, I just want to ask…when we move…uh…should we bring my bed, or do you want to get a new one entirely?"
"What size is yours?"
"It's a queen," said Adam. "I mean, we could go king-sized, if that's what you'd prefer. I just want to know."
"Well, let's wait and see if we even got the apartment first," said Lawrence. "But I have no problem with a queen-size."
Adam grinned as he imagined being able to sleep beside Lawrence in a bed actually made for two people, rather than a single hospital bed. Not that it wasn't nice cuddling close to him, but it would be much more comfortable to have room to spread out, too.
"OK. Sounds good."
"Mm-hmm," said Lawrence.
"What else is going on?" Adam asked, eager to make the conversation last longer.
"Oh, yeah," Lawrence said, suddenly remembering. "My doctor asked if I wanted to meet with a psychologist to talk about my dreams."
"Huh?"
"You know, the dreams we've both been having, that only happen when the other is in pain?"
"Oh, yeah. What's up with that, anyway? Are there other documented cases of stuff like that happening?"
"The doctors have said it's very rare, but also…not exactly real."
"What do you mean 'not exactly real'?"
"He said it's all in the power of suggestion. Like demonic possession and cold reading and stuff like that," said Lawrence.
Adam sighed on the other end of the line.
"I know it's real," Lawrence said seriously. "And you know it, too." He couldn't see it, but Adam rolled his eyes at the seemingly inevitable cynicism of the medical world.
"Why can't they understand the way we feel?" he mumbled softly.
"They just don't trust what they can't explain," Lawrence answered with a shrug.
"So, did he want you to meet with a psychologist because he thinks you're crazy?" asked Adam.
"I don't know. I said I didn't want to, though."
Adam cleared his throat awkwardly, not sure where to take the conversation next.
"Everything OK?" asked Lawrence.
"Yeah. Yeah, just thinking about those dreams," said Adam. He tried to remember if there had been any common themes in his dreams. Lawrence had said that he believed his were about guilt, but Adam still hadn't been able to figure out what his subconscious had been trying to tell him. All his dreams had been just reliving their experience in the bathroom, or about how other people interpreted the closeness he and Lawrence shared.
"Oh, I've got to go. Doctors are back," said Lawrence, holding up one finger, to indicate he needed a second, to the doctor who was in the process of opening the door.
"OK, I'll talk to you later," said Adam.
"OK, love you."
"Love you, too."
Adam couldn't help grinning like a fool as he hung up and set his phone aside. He finally had someone who cared for him, whom he cared for.
Am I still angry, apathetic and pathetic now, Jigsaw? he thought smugly. I'm doing better than YOU are, I know that much.
Little did Adam know as he laid back down on his bed, that Jigsaw, or more specifically, what he had put him through, wasn't done with him yet.
It was dark, and all he could smell was stale water. He felt the rough grainy sensation of cold brick beneath his hands and feet. He opened his eyes and looked all around him. A round wall of carved rectangular stones.
Adam blinked and twisted his head from side to side, trying to figure out where he was. It seemed like a large, empty well. A circular room at the bottom of a cylindrical tower. No stairs, no windows, no ladder. Just brick and stone.
Up at the top was a brightness beaming down at him, but whether it was the sun or artificial lights, he couldn't be sure.
He lowered his gaze and found himself sitting barefoot on the stone floor, Lawrence regaining consciousness beside him, their hands clasped together.
He tried to extract his hand from Lawrence's grip so he could shake him awake, but he found he couldn't. Their hands were stuck together.
He yanked on Lawrence's hand a few times, trying to pull himself apart from the other man, but their hands remained stuck.
Suddenly, he heard a creepy, mechanical laugh from off in the distance, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the flicker of static from a TV screen.
He turned and looked to see a TV monitor, and onscreen was that same white-faced puppet he had come across in his apartment the night he had been abducted. Only this time, it moved. It said, in low, gravely, echoing voice
"Hello, Adam. Hello Lawrence. I want to play a game."
Adam gulped and yanked on Lawrence's hand a little harder, rousing the man from his unconscious state. Lawrence groggily sat up and looked down to find his right hand fused to Adam's left.
"You two are opposites; Dr. Gordon, you won my first game, you passed my first test. You did what you had to do to survive. Adam, you did not prove yourself quite so capable. You were rescued. You failed, yet you still got lucky enough to survive. And only by finding love in each other have you learned to appreciate the gift of life you've been given.
"Your hands have been fused together with a solution that is currently being absorbed into your skin and into your bloodstreams. There is only one container of solvent that will dissolve the glue and separate your hands safely. It is in a case at the top of this shaft. To get to it, you will have to climb this wall, brick by brick, each of you only having full control over one of your hands. Think of it like a three-legged race, but with three arms.
"If you do not get to the solvent within thirty minutes, the solution keeping you together will infect your bloodstreams, and you will both die a slow, painful death, albeit in each other's arms, so to speak.
"Better hurry up. Live or die. Make your choice."
The TV monitor went to static, and then what appeared onscreen was a timer, starting at 00:30:00.
The timer began.
Lawrence and Adam looked at each other, trying not to panic.
"We have to climb this wall? With our hands stuck together?" said Lawrence.
"Looks like," said Adam. He gulped and stood up on shaky legs. "Come on."
"How do we do it?" asked Lawrence, feeling over the bricks for any inlets or openings between the bricks.
"I don't know. Try to find a foothold or a hole in the wall or something."
The two men awkwardly felt around the round wall, trying to feel for any abnormality that would indicate they could grip and pull themselves up.
"Here, right here!" cried Adam, patting the wall, hoping Lawrence could see what he felt in the dark.
"OK, OK, good. Uh, let me see…" Lawrence reached his left hand up and around until he felt a small hole and dug his fingers in. "OK, uh, now my foot…" He lifted his now prosthetic right foot and tapped it gently against the bricks until he found the edge of a protruding stone.
"Alright, hang on," said Adam, doing the same with his right hand and left foot. "OK, I got it," he said, finding a hole to press his fingers into and a ledge for his foot. "Ready?"
"Yeah," said Lawrence. With a grunt of effort, they lifted themselves about a foot off the ground.
"Now what?" Adam panted.
"You hold on, I'll feel around," said Lawrence. Taking their linked hands and pressing them against the rough wall, Lawrence carefully removed his left hand from the wall and began feeling around for another crevice. He could feel Adam's heart beating through their fused skin. At last, he found another hole for his hand. "Got it. Keep holding on," he said, shaking as he sought to move his other foot around until he found another step.
"Hurry, Larry," said Adam, cringing as he began to lose the feeling in his fingers as they clutched desperately to the hole in the bricks.
This went on for the next twenty-five minutes, as the men took turns carefully feeling for footholds and thin spaces in between the bricks to put their hands, but they made steady progress. Eventually they made it to the top of the shaft, onto a ledge that went back about five feet—more than enough room for both of them to climb onto.
Lawrence reached the top first. He put his left arm over the top of the ledge and hauled himself up, first his torso, then his left leg, and finally his right. Now he was lying on his stomach, his right arm still hanging over the edge, holding onto Adam's left hand.
"I've got you. It's alright," he panted as he looked down over the edge of the platform at Adam, who was sweating and shaking as he desperately clutched onto the wall with his right hand.
"We're going to be OK?" Adam whimpered.
"I wouldn't lie to you," said Lawrence. "One…two…three…HUNNNNRGGHH!" Lawrence grunted as he pulled as hard as he could to bring his partner up over the ledge. But before he could, the stones beneath Adam's hand and feet began to crumble, and the young man was pulled down by gravity, yanking at Lawrence's arm.
"AAAAAGHHH! NO!" Lawrence screamed. He could feel their hands beginning to separate, their skin peeling and tearing as he quickly brought his free hand down to grasp at Adam's wrist.
"LAWRENCE!" Adam cried, the wall beneath him falling apart at a more accelerated rate.
"ADAM! I'VE GOT YOU!" Lawrence declared. He'd left Adam once—he wouldn't leave him again. With one final collection of the strength within him, Lawrence pulled as hard as he could, bringing Adam up over the ledge and safely onto the platform.
Panting, Adam looked back down to the bottom of the shaft. The timer had run out. He turned and looked back up at Lawrence, and then behind him, at the glass case containing an aerosol can of whatever solvent was needed to melt the glue that held their hands together.
"We're…we're too late…" Adam panted, as he and Lawrence let their free hands go of their fused hands. But their hands were no longer stuck together. They came apart, painfully and dripping with blood, but they were apart.
"How did we…are we going to die now?" asked Lawrence. The skin had been shredded from their palms, muscle tissue and bone showing through.
The pain was excruciating, the carnage was horrifying, and both men knelt in front of each other, shaking and bleeding, desperately looking to one another for reassurance. It was all too familiar.
Adam's eyes snapped open and he awoke with a short gasp. He pulled his left hand out from under his pillow and found that it had fallen asleep—it was tingling and sending sparks of discomfort up his forearm.
Goddamn, he thought, massaging it with his right hand. He looked at his digital clock— it was 10:22 in the morning.
That was a freaky-ass dream, he thought. Oh my God! Lawrence! He suddenly remembered—if he had been having a dream of such intense pain and suffering, Lawrence must've been writhing in agony by now. He reached for his phone, only to find it was almost out of battery.
FUCK! he thought. He stumbled out of bed and into his dark room, trying to find the charger. He tried dialing Lawrence as soon as he plugged it in, but the phone simply didn't have enough power yet. He would have to wait a few minutes.
"Agh! Could I get something for the pain, please?" Lawrence rasped.
"Is it your ankle?" asked his nurse.
"Yeah. Yeah, it's pretty bad right now," Lawrence grunted.
"Scale of one to ten?"
"Ugh. I don't know…like, nine and a half?" Lawrence moaned.
"Alright. We can give you a small dose of morphine. Let me know if that helps. If the pain persists, we can give talk about giving you something a little stronger," said the nurse, injecting a shot into Lawrence's IV tube.
"No. I've got to meet with my wife and our lawyers in a few minutes," said Lawrence. "Don't knock me out."
"This won't knock you out, Doctor Gordon," said the nurse. "It's just going to take the edge off. OK?"
"OK," he sighed. "Thank you."
"Are we interrupting?" came Allison's voice as she quietly opened the door.
"Heh, not at all. Come in," said Lawrence, beckoning her in along with both their lawyers. It was time to sign the papers.
Come on, come on! Charge, damn it! thought Adam as he paced back and forth in his dark room. His phone was at 1%. It would be a while.
He ran his hands through his hair and turned around. He had taken down most of the pictures he'd had drying on string, and only the most recent ones remained. One in particular caught his eye. It was of Lawrence, walking out of the hospital, looking in one direction before he crossed the street. The sun was hitting his face, but not enough to make him squint.
Adam studied the picture for a moment, looking at all the details he had managed to capture in that split second. Even in black and white, Lawrence radiated a warmth from him that Adam had never noticed before. The man, while not perfect, did have an ethereal, almost angelic aura about him.
Adam pinched the clothespin that bound the picture to the string and took it down, bringing it closer to his face. His veins surged with a tingling sensation and he trembled slightly as he studied the image before him.
Lawrence was handsome. He'd never bothered to consider him in such a way, but he was.
He only hoped he was attractive in Lawrence's eyes as well.
The divorce papers required that Lawrence and Allison list their reason or reasons for a separation, and Lawrence didn't know quite what to put.
Infidelity? Well, he had done that, but that wasn't exactly the reason.
Irreconcilable differences? That wasn't exactly it, either, but that option had been invented in the 1970's to mean anything, so he could have checked it.
But the whole thing, now that it was being put before him in print on parchment, was really weighing on Lawrence's conscience. Was this really the right move?
"Allison, I can't help feeling that maybe…I don't know…are you sure you want this?"
"Larry, please don't. We've been through all of this. We couldn't possibly work, we haven't worked for years," she insisted.
"Wouldn't Diana be happier if I stayed and tried? I want Diana to be happy more than anything, with a mother and a father and— ah!" he was shaking so much he dropped his pen.
Allison picked it up off the floor and looked into his deep blue eyes as she quietly handed it back to him.
"But you love him," she said softly. Lawrence looked back down on the piece of paper on the clipboard on his lap. "Go on."
Lawrence leaned forward and hugged Allison, they both laughed lightly, and he signed his name.
It would take a few weeks to become official as the proceedings worked their way through the legal system, but basically, he was free.
Free to be with Adam.
END OF CHAPTER 15
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