Chapter Text
You know that kind of cold that feels sharp? The wind feels like a whirlwind of glass when it hits you. It's the kind of cold you only feel in the depths of December. It was that kind of cold that night.
Doctor Lawrence Gordon sat on the ground outside of the dilapidated Gideon Meatpacking Plant. He had a lit cigarette in hand. To none the wiser, he looked more like a factory worker than a doctor. That night he was doing some work for John. Mr. Kramer had plans for a new trap that required a surgeon's expertise. Larry took a drag of his cigarette. He began to think about what his past self would think of who he's become. Dr. Gordon would've refused to help Jigsaw. Dr. Gordon was an upstanding father, husband, and member of his hospital. That man died in a bathroom months ago. Lawrence now knew what real justice was.
"I didn't take you for a smoker, Larry", a voice announced. Gordon looked to his left and saw Mark. He came through the exit door and joined the doctor on the ground. It was a shock that Mark didn't instead squat or keep standing; that prick always worried about getting his blazer dirty.
"I'm not a 'smoker', that implies a habit. It's only on occasion", Larry responded with a scoff. Mark smirked softly. He grabbed a pack out of his jacket pocket and lit himself a cigarette.
"Well what's the occasion? It's gotta be something good to make a doctor smoke", Mr. Hoffman noted. Lawrence didn't look at the man next to him. They sat in silence for a few moments, with the occasional cough.
"I'm grieving", Gordon looked at Mark, who raised his brow slightly.
"Grieving who? Your old foot? I'm sure she misses you too", Mark chuckled. He was expecting to hear about how our dear doctor misses the comfort of his wife, or the joy of his daughter. How he misses seeing them, despite cutting ties not to long after entering their lives again.
"I'm grieving Adam, you insensitive asshole", the doctor's tone raised significantly. He took a long drag after his retort. Hoffman hadn't heard that name in a moment. Adam Faulkner-Stanheight, aka the man who really died in that bathroom months ago. Mark never liked the guy. John thought him keen, but a waste of potential. Amanda didn't voice her opinions of him. The two men stared at the ground.
"Then again, I guess I'm a fool for thinking you'd understand", Larry mumbled. Hoffman scoffed.
"I understand more about grief than you do, pal. I lost a family member, a friend. You lost some stranger. A stranger, might I add,
"Allie I can't do it anymore. I'm willing to pay child support for Diana, but I just can't be here anymore" he sighed. Allison looked at him, dumbfounded. He had been back only a few months, and she was losing him again. She had to suffer all of this just for him to leave again? The blank expression on her face mangled itself into rage.
"So you're just leaving us, Larry? You're leaving your only child because 'you can't do it anymore'?"
"You know I care about her, and I can still support you two"
"Fuck you. Fuck you for what you did to me and Diana. I don't want your money and I don't want your sympathy. You're dead to me"
that was trying to sabotage your marriage"
"It had sabotaged itself already. Allie didn't want anything to do with me even before Adam was involved", Lawrence's tone was steady, and his gaze stayed on the dark horizon. Mark glared at him.
"What do you miss about that prick? I mean seriously, did he do you any good? To me it just seems like he was a part of your game", The detective jeered. Gordon whipped his head to stare at the man next to him.
"You don't know what good he did for me. I wouldn't have gotten out of there alive
(I'll kill you you mother fucker)
without him" Gordon's hands began to shake. The cigarette in his hand threatened to fall to the floor. Mark rolled his eyes
"I know what role he played in our game, but he was more than a roadblock", The doctor's tone came back down. He went back to gazing at the horizon and taking the occasional drag. The next couple minutes were quiet. The sky was especially dark that night. Only a couple stars were visible.
"Have fun out here" Hoffman took his last drag and flicked his cigarette onto the pavement. He then stood up, slowly, and walked back into the factory. The door slammed behind him.