Twelve Hours with Him

Disclaimer: I do not own Saw or any of the characters involved in it.

The first two hours passed quickly. We talked about everything. It was a grim game of twenty questions that I knew wouldn't really make any difference twelve hours from now. Though, it did serve a purpose in settling Adam and keeping him from thinking about the inevitable. He was like a child, interested and frightened, both at the same time, by our ill-fated situation. I knew that I wasn't ready to answer the tough questions just yet. I didn't think I could stand to watch his hopeful posture diminish before my eyes as I told him the process of dehydration. Cynical as he was, I could see the heart inside of him hoping against all hope that somebody, anybody, would come to rescue us. His eyes would drift towards the door every so often – waiting for the SWAT team to come barging in with handfuls of water bottles and donuts.

That was his favorite food – donuts. The kind with the chocolate on top.

And when I would notice this subtle movement I would quickly change the topic. That was how I learned that his favorite ice cream flavor was chocolate chip. His favorite horror movie was Friday the Thirteenth but his favorite movie of all time was Rebel Without a Cause. He had a James Dean photograph in his dark room to inspire him. He drove a motorcycle that could only go a few blocks without stalling and therefore found it easier just to walk everywhere.

I also learned that his brother had died of a drug overdose just two weeks before he woke up in a dirty bathtub in a real live shithole.

The thing about Adam is that he can make you want to punch him one minute and the next you will melt at the mercy of his sad brown eyes. Adam is sad. He is also scared and vulnerable. And all he has to help him through this is me.

I fought. I fought hard. So did Adam. He begged me for what felt like hours on end for me to throw the only working saw his way so that he could cut his foot off and be free. Don't get me wrong; I considered doing the same thing when I heard the sound of my wife's tears. I was so close I could taste my own blood.

But then, he said something that made me look away from the poorly tied tourniquet on my ankle. He was crying and reaching out to me as hard as that chain would allow. He was crying so hard that he could barely speak. But the three words I heard brought me out of my psychosis.

I need you.

So many people needed me. My wife needed me. My daughter needed me too. I felt more helpless than ever in my entire life. But I'm a surgeon. When I feel helpless I pick up the scalpel and do what I can with what I have. I may not be able to cure cancer, but I can cut the tumor that is in front of me. I can cut what I can see.

My wife and daughter were far away. Too far for me to crawl to on one good leg and certainly too far for my blood supply to hold out. But Adam was in front of me. And he needed me too.

So here we are, abandoned by the rest of the world. They will never find us before our meager water supply runs out. I know this. Adam does too, somewhere in that head full of M.A.S.H reruns.

That's right, M.A.S.H is one of his favorite TV shows.

So I listen to him describe his favorite episode to me -sound effects and all. Because Jigsaw is gone. And we've been left behind to die.

I'll listen for as long as it keeps Adam from being afraid. Because he needs me to.