Adam had learned long ago to not get too close to people.

As a kid, something about him drove people away. And not just the kids at school, who judged every move he made. His dad was always angry. Mom was swamped at work and usually had to bring it home. So he spent most of his early childhood by himself.

One day, he found this cat hiding under their shed. After a bit of coaxing, it came up to him. From then on, he knew he was meant to help them. Help those 'non-judgmental creatures,' as he started to call them. He begged his mom for a toy cat, which she got him, and spent time in his school's library, drowning in books about animals with the cat stuffed under his arm.

It was better than sitting outside at recess and watching the other kids stare. He didn't have anyone to share his newfound knowledge with, but that edge had dulled.

And then one day, in Adam's kindergarten class, there was a new kid. The teacher explained that his family just moved to town, and that they were to welcome him with open arms.

Adam figured the chances of that were slim.

The new kid sat down next to Adam.

And then he struck up a conversation. Asked Adam about his cat toy before starting to ramble about his family's dog.

Adam had a kid to play vet with at recess that day.

And from that day on, Adam had someone in his corner.

Scott was always the leader of their little pairing. He had better ideas, and he was a couple months older.

The age gap seemed like a big deal at the time.

Despite everything that happened between the two of them, from little arguments to full-on fights, Adam stuck with Scott. And deep down, he was sure that Scott wanted it that way.

Most days, anyway.

Their entire childhood, they would have sleepovers every other Friday night, no matter what. They would alternate whose house they went to, and they would always find themselves lying on the ground, eyes glued to the ceiling, talking about whatever came to mind.

And here they were again. On their backs, eyes blankly staring above them, just feet away from the death machine that had almost ripped Scott limb from limb.

They hadn't said anything yet. Adam had tried a few times, but what could he say? So, as usual, he waited for Scott to take the lead.

If Scott ever deserved that right, it was definitely now.

Eventually, he took it.

"I thought you were dead," Scott choked out.

Adam quietly sighed. He couldn't be the only one who thought that. Adam's mother was out there, surely worried sick about him.

Scott scoffed. "Then you show up out of nowhere and damn near get me ripped apart."

Adam's brows scrunched together. "What?"

"Kept trying to 'look around' when I was over in that thing," Scott argued while pointing at the machine.

Adam opened his mouth, then slammed it shut again. He learned long ago to not bother arguing with Scott. Especially when he was convinced Adam messed something up.

He did what he usually did. What usually defused the ticking time bomb that was Scott Tibbs.

"I'm sorry," Adam murmured.

Scott stared at him for a moment, then groaned and went back to staring at the ceiling.

The new silence between them ate away at Adam. He forced words out. Anything.

"How was the concert?"

Scott scoffed. "It fucking sucked. We needed you there, man. The audience was crap, they never sang along, and, you know them. You know how to get them hyped up, and—"

"I dunno what to tell you, man. I was a bit busy," Adam interrupted coolly.

He could take a lot from Scott. But going off on him about this? After the hell he just dragged Scott out of? After the Iron Maiden, and the bathroom, and Zep, and getting shot, and…

Don't think about that...

If the biggest problem that came out of this was him missing a concert, Adam would be thrilled. There would be more shows, and he could organize those things to Scott's content after they got themselves and Lawrence out of this.

"Just wished you were there," Scott replied.

Adam sighed again. "I know," he said pointedly.

Scott looked over on the edge of Adam's vision.

Adam explained curtly, "Your cameraman was generous enough to give our host a copy of the tape."

Scott scoffed. "What?"

Adam looked over. Lawrence knew about Zep. Maybe Scott knew about the cameraman, maybe knew enough that they'd piece together what happened.

"Did you know him? Recognize anything about him?"

"I knew that dude was shady." Scott moved again. "Short brown hair, jacked. Said he was in the military for a while. Never saw him before."

Adam sighed. He didn't know of anyone like that either. Knowing who Zep was didn't help that much, but having no clues…?

The two were silent, lost in their own thoughts.

But Adam's wandered. What was going through Scott's mind? Memories of how he got here? Did some puppet laugh in his face to distract him from the pig mask too?

After a moment, Adam finally asked, "What happened to you?"

He didn't expect the chuckle that came from his friend's lips. Scott's eyes darted around briefly, as if he was watching everything unfold above him.

"Well," Scott started, "after the shit-show that was the concert, I went looking for you. But when I couldn't find you, Lark showed up and tried to tell me all about how it was some misunderstanding. Guy pissed me off so bad. I needed him to leave, but he wouldn't, and I did the only thing I could think to do."

Adam's eyes widened.

Scott didn't need to be wound up much for Adam to become a punching bag. But Lark? That only happened once. The guitarist came out of it with a black eye, but Scott was in the emergency room getting stitches.

"Don't tell me you—"

"Yup, sure did."

Was Lark okay? If Scott wasn't kept in check, or drunk off his ass, did he overpower their friend and—

Scott smiled. "I went out and got wasted."

Adam let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, yeah… Much better."

Getting hammered, now that was a regular thing. Scott didn't need a reason to go out and waste the night at some bar.

He looked over at Adam, brow furrowed. "What?"

Adam squirmed. If he went too far, he could be drilled into next. But holding things back from Scott would be worse. Especially in a place like this.

The bathroom taught him that much.

"Thought you meant you and Lark…"

"Oh! Went at it? Nah man, he'd just kick my ass again."

The two chuckled at that. It was starting to feel like old times, back when the two of them had so few problems to worry about.

Adam was missing his life away from this place more and more.

"But yeah," Scott continued, "I drank too much and passed out. Woke up here with a bag over my head and not a damn clue of what was going on. 'Til you came by."

And almost let you get ripped apart.

"You got me outta there, even you took your sweet fuckin' time about it." Scott winced and let out a huff. "Thanks."

Adam furrowed his brow.

Scott hadn't thanked him in a long time. He wasn't one for words of affirmation. Adam should be glad to rouse that out of him, but it just confused him. Made him anxious. Why did it take saving Scott from certain death to warrant a simple 'thanks?'

He couldn't explain it.

"What happened to you?" Scott chuckled. "You look like crap."

Adam looked down at himself.

The blood from the drills had started to dry, speckling his shirt and skin in dark smudges. His clothes were torn and frayed. He didn't even want to know how his hair looked, or how messed up his face was from the drills and his busted nose.

Scott was right. If anything, he was being generous. Adam looked worse than crap.

He tried mustering up a simple answer, then realized there wasn't one.

He looked at Scott. "You remember that doctor I was following around?"

"Yeah. The weird one with the hot intern?"

Adam flinched. After everything else, he had forgotten what he had said about Lawrence when he was little more than money in Adam's pocket. He was just the shady, weirdly awkward doctor who snuck around with a nurse at his hospital. He and Scott liked to make up their own stories about what his targets were up to.

Now, those same stories left a sour taste in his mouth.

He should never have said all that stuff, much less about Lawrence.

Stupid.

He forced a nervous chuckle before continuing. "Well, I finished handing out fliers for that concert. Went home, dealt with Cranky Dude, developed the shots I had taken that day, then fell asleep. I woke up and all the lights were out. Found a puppet—"

"A puppet?"

Adam smirked. Something about the way Scott had said that, it reminded him of when they would joke around back home. "You heard me."

Scott rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Smartass."

It almost felt like they were teenagers again, finding some way to make light of whatever had happened that day. Despite the crap Scott had put Adam through, he was always good at helping him feel better.

Scott gently nudged him with his foot. "Go on, Ace Ventura." Adam scoffed. "You found a puppet…" Scott arched his brows.

Adam rolled his eyes. "I broke it and then was kidnapped by someone in a pig costume."

Scott opened his mouth, but Adam cut him off. "Don't ask."

Adam's small smile faded. He still wasn't sure what happened. It felt like one moment, he was using the flash on his camera, and the next, he woke up in that tub. Whoever was hiding in the closet must have been very strong.

The guy who was at Scott's concert, maybe?

"Anyway, I woke up in a bathroom that made my apartment look like a fuckin' mansion with a cleaning service. And the doctor — Lawrence, by the way — he was there. He uh… he was… tough, but after a while, almost… nice, and…"

Adam slowly cut himself off. Scott didn't need to know. They were gonna find him, Adam was sure of it. And the last thing Lawrence needed was for Scott, of all people, to know all about him. To know about his wife and kid. Know about what put him on the other side of that bathroom. Know what his current problem was.

And even if Scott knew it, no telling if he'd be of any use.

"Then everything went wrong, and I… was left there. Never thought I…"

Would make it out of that filthy hellhole.

"But, back to your point, I missed the concert because I was stuck there. I tried, but I literally coul—"

"I get it, dude. I get it." Scott sighed. "I'm sorry for saying all of that, okay? It uh…" Scott clicked his tongue. "It's been a very long day."

Adam scoffed. "Ain't that the truth."

They stared at each other for a moment. Adam gave him a smile.

He missed this. As they grew up and delved into their own little worlds, they had stopped spending time like this. Talking. Figuring out life. These conversations with Scott had helped Adam get through more than Scott could ever know.

But here, they didn't have much of that luxury, either.

They needed to go.

Lawrence. The timer.

Adam sat up, wincing at his raging muscles. He stood, knees popping and blood rushing to his head. He blinked, waiting for the feeling to subside.

He held his hand out to Scott. "Let's get you outta here."

Scott smiled and clasped Adam's hand. He used it to pull himself up.

Then he clapped Adam on the back. "Let's look into getting you out too, yeah?"

Adam smiled. Maybe more people would care than he realized. His mom, the cat, and now Scott. Somehow, the list was growing.

He smirked. "I guess you do owe me, I did kinda save your ass back there."

Scott rolled his eyes and half-smiled. "Oh no, he's gloating again."

"Shut up, Tibbs."

Scott gave Adam a playful punch on the shoulder, another thing they had almost ritualistically done as kids. "In your dreams, Stanheight."

Adam chuckled and led the way towards the door. Before he got there, Scott caught his shoulder and spun him back around, shaking his head.

"No, I've got this one."

Adam cocked his head, frowning.

Scott smirked. "No offense, it just…" He shook his head and looked down. "Was a bit too close to the last one ending differently, yanno?"

Adam furrowed his brow.

Right. He let it slip his mind. And if it happened, if he messed up…

Scott pat Adam's shoulder. "Let me take it from here, yeah?"

He didn't wait for a response before turning and leading the two of them out the door.

Scott moved frantically, clicking his tongue at every door in sight and trying every knob he could get his hands on.

It wasn't long before Adam started to feel it. That damn nerve agent. Scott's speed was too much. A flutter took root in his chest and became a lump in his throat. He coughed into his hand.

New blood. Fresh. Sticky. Paired so nicely with all the other stains on his skin.

Keep going, Adam. It doesn't matter right now. Just keep going.

But his heart felt ready to explode. And if he didn't stop, his body would make him.

And then what? Jigsaw never mentioned Scott having a role in saving Lawrence.

"Scott," he choked out before doubling over, heaving for air.

Scott's pounding footfalls stopped. "Adam? Come on, we've gotta go."

"Please," Adam wheezed.

Scott pursed his lips and walked back to Adam, arms stretched out.

Adam tried to grab him, but the world was spinning. He slammed shoulder-first into a wall and coughed.

Blood spattered onto the floor and Adam shakily wiped away the droplets stuck on his lips.

"Fuckin–" Scott hissed. "What are you, sick or somethin'?"

Adam was still busy fighting for air. A whole explanation would be impossible. He'd die from talking too much.

Later.

"S-Something like that."

"What, what do you need? Like, medicine, like…?"

Adam took in a deep breath and forced himself to stand straight. He may as well have inhaled acid.

In a way, he supposed he was.

But he had to stay strong. Scott didn't want to see this. No one did, save for the freak on the other side of the cameras.

"Sorry," Adam mumbled, wiping his mouth with his hand again. He tried to ignore the ringing in his ears.

That only made it worse.

"Just need to get out of here," he muttered. "Don't let me slow you down."

He used the wall to support his first few steps, and then he managed to find his balance.

Scott lingered at his side for a moment, and then went back to trying doors, zigzagging from one side of the hall to the other.

Adam silently groaned as he followed, clutching his chest and still fighting with each breath.

Strange that he needed air to put out the fire in his lungs.

He was trailing behind Scott, but maybe that was for the best. Scott could search this whole damn hall and come back. No use waiting on Adam's dillydallying.

And plus…

Adam slowed as his eyes landed on a picture frame. The only one with something on it.

He stopped in his tracks. "Scott, wait."

Scott slammed his hand on whatever door he was trying to open before walking over. He hummed at Adam, brows raised.

Adam held up a finger as he stared at the paper.

It was the same white, crisp square with his name written in bold on the front. It was folded up, just like before.

Adam looked at the camera in the hallway while ripping it off the wall. "The fuck do you want now?" he grumbled.

He unfolded the note, grimacing, but at least starting to catch his breath.

'I'm So Sorry'

Adam looked at it and scrunched his eyes. "So much cryptic shit."

"What's it say?" Scott asked, hovering at Adam's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry."

He had heard that recently.

"Oh, yeah," Scott said with a scoff. "Yeah, apologies fix all of this!"

Adam's eyes widened.

He heard it on that bed. That damn bed. Something kept him down. He felt buried and heavy. Experiencing the world through a fog that chained him in place.

"I'm so sorry."

Lawrence. Lawrence whispered it, voice cracking. He could hear the guilt, the remorse. As the doctor moved around and worked, Adam could feel his stare. As if Adam would get up and run away if he glanced away for even a moment.

It's okay, Lawrence. It's okay.

"Will he regain full use of his arm?" Jigsaw asked at Adam's side.

Everyone sounded far away. At the end of an eternal tunnel.

Lawrence sighed. "He's strong. It's possible, but he's gonna need way more than what I could ever give him here. It's getting infected, and the bullet… He needs a hospital."

And yet, for some reason, they were here.

Where are we…?

"Well, it's your job to get him there," Jigsaw murmured.

Lawrence mumbled something. Adam couldn't make it all out, but he swore he heard a breathless whisper in the middle. "I'm sorry."

Adam wanted more than anything to tell Lawrence it was okay. It wasn't his fault. None of this was his fault. They were pawns in a game, doing what it took to survive.

"I need a stronger anesthetic." Lawrence explained. "I don't want to hurt him. Please, J-"

"You know we can't do that, Doctor."

Cold hands grazed his skin and pulled his loose-fitting shirt down. The frigid touch felt foreign and spread through his nerves, coating his entire body in dull ice. Fingers poked and prodded his shoulder.

"This is gonna hurt like hell."

Adam heard Lawrence 'tsk' while he continued to feel around.

Please stop, Lawrence, please.

"He's gonna get an infection if I don't do this," Lawrence murmured.

Jigsaw weakly chuckled. "Of course. I don't need a doctor to tell me that one."

Lawrence grunted. "This is gonna hurt him like hell," he repeated.

Then he had waited for something. Looking back, maybe waiting for Jigsaw to change his mind. But the moment never came. Instead, a bottle popped open and gloves snapped against skin. The sounds echoed eternally in his head. It all reminded him of when he had to go to the doctor's.

He hated doctors. Except maybe—

Fire engulfed his shoulder.

He heard sizzling. Could feel flesh falling off bone. But all he could manage to do was lay there, melting into the table.

In a fleeting, final moment of mercy, everything started to fade. A single second of peace before the lights flicked off. His single gift in this freakshow.

But not before Lawrence muttered something to him, barely scrounged up behind the ringing in his ears.

"I'm so sorry."

Author's Note:

Hi everyone! Just wanted to sincerely thank you again for checking this out so far. This story has been in my head for a decade now, and I cannot express enough how much I have loved putting it into words. I was a kid when I first came up with this, not even allowed to watch Saw, and had snuck around typing notes in PowerPoints on my iPad.

Some of you might notice references to Leigh Whannell's (Adam's actor and Saw's writer) original script. There are concepts that I loved in his first draft that didn't make it into the movie. Loved bringing them through here.

Another huge thank you to my wonderful editor and friend, Velitor. Don't even want to imagine how this would have gone without you.

Thank you guys again!