Chapter Text
The police hadn’t even left when they got the call.
She was in the middle of attempting to calm Diana down after all that had happened. Hell, she was still trying to calm herself down. But was that even possible when you were gagged and had a gun forced to your head in your own house? God, she just wanted to know where Lawrence was, their marriage was falling apart, yes, but it seemed so insignificant after everything that happened. Her thoughts were beginning to spiral when a police officer burst into a room of their house-turned-crime scene.
“Miss Gordon” he said, getting her attention, receiver still in hand, “they found your husband”.
With those few words, her entire train of thought came to a sudden halt.
________________
She couldn’t bear sitting in that suffocating waiting room, holding her daughter like she would disappear (which wasn't that much of an outlandish thought anymore). They barely told her anything. Just that he was found bleeding out on a random sidewalk and that he was in surgery.
Alison Gordon waited for hours. Her daughter eventually fell asleep, but she couldn’t, her mind too swamped with memories of every horror that they went through. But finally, far too early in the morning, she was told that she could, finally, finally, see Lawrence.
The elevator ride may have been worse than the waiting room. She didn’t know how injured her husband was. They didn’t tell her anything, probably because they didn’t know what happened either. Alison didn’t know if she wanted to see his injuries. But yet, she still was in that elevator, waiting with her half asleep daughter next to her.
She had been to the hospital many times, considering that it was Lawrence’s place of employment, but it had never felt like this. She had never felt this claustrophobic walking down those hallways, all white and sterilized.
There were so many doctors around his room, too many. Diana was shaking, god she was just a child, she shouldn’t have had to go through this.
Lawrence laid in a stark white hospital bed, bandages covered him. He was surrounded by hospital machinery, like he could die at any moment. It looked like he could die with a strong gust of wind.
Alison had never seen him like this. It almost didn’t look real, he didn’t look real. His face was too pale- he- he- he looked dead. But what she didn’t know was that the worst of the damage was under his blanket, she hadn’t seen his foot.
That was, until the doctor’s told her. It seemed ridiculous, that his foot was seemingly cut off (it was too janky to have been a surgical procedure, at least, before his surgery). They had to amputate more of it, or he would have surely died. She was already crying, Diana also was. The sheer gravity of what happened hit her like a semi-truck.
They had been part of jigsaw’s twisted fucking game.
________________
It had been three days since their lives had changed forever.
It had been three days, and Lawrence still hadn’t woken up.
Diana and she hadn’t gone home, she wasn’t sure if she could ever go home. Too much happened there, so they had been staying in a hotel near the hospital. Somehow, Lawrence was stable. He was going to be fine, at least that was what the doctors said, but it was hard to believe them when he looked so sickly.
Though with all the bad news, Alison had finally gotten some information. She learned where he was held, what they thought happened, everything. She learned that there was another man in that horrible bathroom with Lawrence. Someone seemingly no one seemed to know or care about. A young man named Adam.
They didn’t find the jigsaw killer, only a pile of blood and a severed foot as remnants he was ever there.
________________
On the third day, Lawrence woke up.
It should have been a happy moment, but instead it shook everyone who was in that small hospital room to their core.
There was no calm waking up, no clear explanation of anything. There was only Lawrence jolting awake, tears already staining his cheeks. The doctors were already in the room, as his heart monitor spiked. But when they tried to calm him down, he started fighting them off. Calm, collected Lawrence Gordon, was hysterical. He was just crying for someone, anyone, he was hostile, and it scared the living hell out of her.
Then it stopped. Everything went silent. As they saw Lawrence slowly look down at his leg, and start screaming. She didn’t ever want to hear him scream again, god it was awful. He was clearly delirious, and he was scared. Doctor Gordon, scared, it was terrifying. He didn’t get scared. But yet he was yelling, and they couldn’t get him to calm down. Finally, as a last resort, the doctors injected him with some sort of sleeping drug.
And just like that, the room was quiet yet again.
The only sounds the faint beeping of a heart monitor, and a little girl crying.