Adam decided to go to the library. Hang his head low, say he was thinking about getting a membership. He needed a computer. Something to give him any lead whatsoever about Hoffman.

Surely someone had some dirt they could kick up about him. And he would find him. whatever it took.

He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.

Hoffman. All he knew was that this sicko was named Hoffman and that he was a detective. How could he work with that?

And he knew even less about Amanda. She was such a mystery to him, she may as well have still been the powerful Rockstar trodding around the lobby of his apartment building.

The trip there was a blur. He was so caught in his own head, if his brain hadn't programmed the route long ago, he would have gotten lost. All Adam could remember was how quickly the trees passed him by and how the music seemed too quiet to him no matter how loud he turned it up.

But here he was, in the parking lot of the library, in the same spot he always went to. With how close he was to the infamous Jigsaw Killer, those vultures would tear right through his search history. And he'd be fucked if that happened.

So, he resigned himself to coming here. He knew about the form he could fill out to get Adam Radford a pass, even without his ID.

When Adam looked at the library, he couldn't help but smile. He had spent so much time there as a kid, reading through all the animal books he could get his hands on. He had even asked if they could have the bus drop him off there instead of at home. His mom would have passed him on her way home from work, and he hated being alone with his dad.

Some days the man was kind, easygoing and fun to be around. A gentle giant who played catch with his "lil bud" and taught him everything he knew. But others, it was like someone flipped a switch. And his dad would get angry at everything little thing, always finding a way to pin it on him.

If Adam was being honest with himself, he'd prefer for him to have consistently been angry. At least that way it wouldn't feel like he played Russian roulette with his dad's temper every time he walked through the fucking door.

He shook his head, forcing the thought away. He knew full well that he missed the hilarious, grumpy old bastard more than he could ever understand.

Adam got out and made his way to the library, a small building with a dark, brick exterior. Had the same old stain to the right of the door as it always had. The people inside were different, though. The nice old lady, Elise, who sat at the desk passed away years ago. He hadn't been back since.

Now, an older man with an ever-present scowl on his face.

He walked up to the desk and rested his hand on it. "Hi, my name is Adam. I- I need a guest—"

The man pointed to a stack of papers to Adam's right. He nodded at him and looked over. Filled it out, put in his new name and some random address that sounded legitimate.

The library was just as beautifully crappy as it always was. With the one big, old room that hadn't so much as gotten a paint job since his parents' parents had watched it get built as teenagers.

He made his way to one of the computers and sat down. If he wanted to find a way to take these bastards down, he needed to find as much information about them as he could. Knowing Lawrence, he'd probably want a whole presentation before the doctor would even think about doing this.

No better starting place than his friend Hoffman. He typed a few different searches, with the man's name and Jigsaw's, the word detective, until finally, the result he was looking for came up.

Adam sat back. "Mark Hoffman."

He looked through the article that showed up. And he was disgusted.

Apparently, his sister, Angela, had been murdered by Seth Baxter, her boyfriend. He was let out early, didn't even serve a full term.

He was found sawed in half, a victim of another game. One that at least didn't have an innocent victim. Hoffman started to investigate Jigsaw after all of that.

Adam couldn't help but feel some sympathy for Hoffman, even for a second. The article said that his sister, Hoffman's only family, was still there when he arrived. The thought of him seeing that…

He shook his head, forcing the thought aside. The man was still a miserable bastard who put people in torture games.

After clicking out of that article, he looked up Jigsaw.

"Oh, you sick fucks," he whispered to the computer as he read all about the trials he had never heard of.

He couldn't help but think about his own tests. The Iron Maiden, where he had to electrocute himself to avoid being crushed by a coffin of nails. The Puppet Master, where he had to keep Scott from being ripped apart. The toilet of cigarettes to avoid blowing up, the makeshift, fiery darkroom that burned him, that fucking bathtub that he drowned in before Lawrence saved him.

These people were fucking ruthless.

Adam grumbled and went back to the other article. No use in dwelling on how sick the whole thing was. He needed to know more about Hoffman.

When he read further down the article, a name started to show up again and again. The same person, who had busted three of his men and then transferred.

Matt Gibson, Internal Affairs.

Adam's eyes widened. He recognized that name anywhere.

"Matt?"

They went to elementary school together. Adam was one of the introverted younger kids that Matt had "adopted." The talkative, cheery kid used tough love a lot, but he would not hesitate to give all hell to anyone who hurt his friends. Even then, he was incredibly feisty.

Needless to say, Matt realized how tough Scott got with Adam, the oldest of the three was pissed. He found himself in detention for pushing Scott away from Adam during one of their "arguments."

And Adam had stuck with Scott after that. Something about the way Scott had talked to him, Adam was convinced that he couldn't do any better. That he deserved every bit of it, and he needed to shut up before he got Matt in even more trouble.

Matt wouldn't even look at him after all that. Not that Adam blamed him.

There had to be a way to find him. Before Adam stupidly drove Matt away, he had helped him figure so many things out. Matt would know what to do.

Adam typed his name in the search engine and looked at the results.

He chuckled. A blog. Of course, Matt had a blog.

Damn. A small blog though, one that didn't help him too much. Just one post from years ago about how his ex was "crazier than a sack of cats," whatever that meant.

He looked through Matt's about page, scrolling past his education history.

And he smiled.

Cell: 555-9406

There.

Adam grabbed a marker and scribbled the number on his hand. He cleared his search history and speed walked to the corner of the library. It was so old, they hadn't updated it in a while. It still had the little phone in the corner that he used to prank call people before getting kicked out.

Do some good with it this time. He picked the phone up.

And he froze.

Matt was a nice guy, but it sure as fuck would be hard to justify what Adam had pulled. What if he wanted nothing to do with him?

He sighed. He'd cross that bridge if he got to it. But he needed to try. He dialed and held the phone up to his ear.

His friend's voice went through on the second ring, "Yeah?"

Adam drew a blank. What could he possibly say to make all of this—

"Hello?"

He blurted out, "It's Adam. St-Stanheight."

What the fuck?

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Matt responded, "Adam. As in the kid who hung around with Scott and is now a Jigsaw suspect? That Adam?" Matt drew in a sharp breath. "I dunno what you could possibly want, but you—"

"I'm in trouble, Matt. I need you."

"You are a—"

"It wasn't me! Please, can we meet up somewhere?"

"Hell no."

How did Adam fuck up the conversation that bad? He knew that this would be rough, but he swore he made every wrong move. Matt was acting nice compared to what Adam would have expected.

He took a deep breath. "I didn't do anything, I swear. Mark Hoffman, he's after me. I need your help, man."

"Hoffman?"

Something in Matt's voice change. He softened, his tone matching how he spoke when they were kids. The protective persona came back, and it made Adam relax.

"Matt, I'm sorry. For everything. I don't know what to do, but I saw that you busted Mark and some of his men. You know how he works. I need you."

This was stupid. All of it. How the fuck could he have expected Matt, after all these years, to break the rules and—

"Adam, you listen to me. Hoffman is a conniving, slick, viscous pain in my ass and that was before he shot a man in cold blood right in front of me. I wouldn't wish being on his bad side on my worst enemy, much less you. He's smart, but what you gotta do is piss him off."

Adam went to open his mouth, but Matt cut him off. "I know that sounds counter-intuitive with him but just trust me here. That guy will do something stupid if you rub him the wrong way. That is how you get him."

Just like when they were kids, Matt's ideas sounded stupid at first, but they always ended up making sense. Use the man's brazen attitude against him.

Matt said, "Poke the bear, and it'll get itself shot. You don't got to do a thing after that."

So do something to make Mark mess up. Force him to mess his own plan up. That could work.

"And save my number and you let me know if I can help you. I'm still mad at ya, but I need you to stay safe. That Mark Hoffman is even slicker than you think. Do me a favor and look after yourself. And let me know if you need something'. Anything. You hear me?"

Adam went to say "thank you" but that almost felt insulting. He wished Matt knew just how much this helped. He needed to give Matt some time then reach back out. More than he ever knew, Adam missed this

"I can't thank you enough for this, man."

"You don't trust him. So, you're already doin' better than I was. You're gonna be fine, I know it." Matt chuckled. "You always were great at getting yourself in trouble. But you were even better at getting out of it, with some help."

Help. Exactly what Adam needed. With Matt and Lawrence, maybe he could figure all of this out after all. Find a way to get Mark off his back so he could be him again.

And burn the entire operation right to the fucking ground, like he had always wanted. Matt could watch it all go down too, if he wanted.

Despite everything that Adam had done to him.

"You just saved my ass, Matt. Thank you."

Matt chuckled. "Yup, I tend to do that. Take care, 'aight?"

"You too."

He hung up, and he let out a breath of relief. This was going to be hard, and easy to mess up. But there had to be a way to poke the angry, viscous bear that was Mark Hoffman.

And he would find it.