Chapter Text
He’d crawled out from that bathroom all this way just to collapse on the floor. For John Kramer, Jigsaw himself (although “killer”, he would say, was a massive misinterpretation on the part of the press. Then again, he supposed, talking about what he was actually trying to do, rehabilitate others…that wouldn’t exactly get people to watch media reports, would it?), he couldn’t help but think it was a pitiful end for someone who had just rediscovered his survival instinct, his valor.
Playing the part of a seeming corpse (literally playing dead) gave John Kramer more than just a way to throw people off his trail. It was a way to observe Doctor Gordon and Adam Stanheight’s game. Doctor Gordon…at least he had passed his test in more ways than one. He’d proven that he wasn’t as cold, as unfeeling, as it was easy to mistake him for. That he did love his family, that he felt basic compassion for another human being. He was redeemable. Everything he did, no matter what happened, mattered.
***
Lawrence Gordon didn’t stay unconscious for very long. Indeed, one could say that his response on waking up was…well, not unexpected. The screaming. The demands to know where Alison and Diana were, where Adam was.
"Doctor Gordon,” John said, and he was already frustrated, "You need to lie still and calm yourself. The last time you were awake, you were in severe pain and dehydrated. You’ll only make things worse for yourself.”
”…you’re right for the wrong reasons.” Gordon was already breathing heavily. “What about Zepp? If you’re the man behind it all…why was Zepp doing this?”
Zepp Hindle. It would have been easy to see John’s treatment of him as a case of the farmer and the viper. Zepp had been, oddly enough compared to what he was willing to do to Alison and Diana Gordon, kind to John. Compassion in its purest form. John had cared for him, if only for that.
He had hoped that his test would help Zepp. Instead, he had been beaten to death with a toilet lid though not after he had uncovered a sadistic streak that John hadn’t thought was possible.
It was a pity that Zepp had become who he was. He had, once upon a time, been a good man.
"Zepp was another test subject," John said. “I had hoped to help him. Even if he had not been kind to me in the hospital where I stayed, I would have wanted to save him.”
”From what?”
”His own faults."
John watched even as Lawrence watched, incredulously.
”You said that technically speaking, I wasn’t really a murderer, Doctor Gordon." John said. "And you were right. It is undeniable that many of the deaths were…disappointing.”
"And yet you set up these traps anyway.” Then, “Why me? Was this…I fucked up. I fucked up so many times. But John,” and it struck John that it was the first time Lawrence Gordon had called him “John". Not just the patient with an inoperable frontal lobe tumor, shown off like an exhibit to strangers, a place on a tour guide, but John. A person. John supposed he could be ready to be proud of him, to think better of him. And if he was able to do that, then maybe he wasn’t incapable of rehabilitating others. Then maybe, everything he did had meaning. “I didn’t deserve this. Alison didn’t. Diana didn’t. Adam didn’t; even Zepp didn’t.”
”It’s hardly about ‘deserving', Doctor Gordon.” The more Doctor Gordon spoke, the more John swore he had never been more proud of him. Dear God, he simply did not know, did he, how much better he could be? “It was all about you. Everything you did mattered, Doctor. Everything you achieved meant something. In the end…that’s all I want.”
***
He answered Gordon’s questions, as best he could. As far as he knew, Alison and Diana had left safely, had fought bravely. Everything they did had mattered. And no, he never hated Doctor Gordon.
"Do you think that I would hate my subjects if I wanted them redeemed? Do you think that I would give them this chance if I thought they had nothing to give? Including you?”
There was a brief moment where it seemed Lawrence was already comprehending this, taking this all in. "That’s…what you were doing all along?”
”Well, yes. Appreciating life was just one piece. Redemption…that’s another. A relative thing, but you were redeemed, Doctor Gordon. I was always there. Always watching…and you did beautifully.”
”I didn’t kill Adam. Or save my family."
”True. But you proved you have the capability to be a good man. After all, would the pre-bathroom Doctor Gordon have done what you did?"
He watched as Doctor Gordon paused. Then, "It was always there. I…tried to be a good father to Diana.” A strangled laugh. “You didn’t have to do this to…prove your point…”
”I learned long ago, Doctor Gordon, that extraordinary circumstances can make people do what they never thought possible.”
***
John Kramer’s suicide attempt felt like a lifetime ago, and in a way, he supposed that in a loose way (like Ben Kenobi’s rather flimsy excuse as to how Anakin Skywalker had died at the same time Darth Vader had been born), the old John Kramer had good as died not only after the attempt, when he’d wrenched metal out of his body and was amazed that he had survived that, of all things, but in the emergency room when his wounds had been treated. He had thought, after every misfortune that befell him and Jill, that he had lived too long, and compared to the tumor, suicide would be merciful, an end where he could finally rest.
Fate had looked at his plan and said, “Not today." He was glad it did.
When he told Doctor Gordon the truth, he didn’t weep. He wasn’t looking for pity; Jigsaw knew full well that compared to those he rehabilitated, those he mentored like Amanda, Hoffman, Logan, just to name a few, he was unimportant. They were more important than he was. If he had to be firm, he would be, if he had to be kind, he would be. All they wanted, he would be. That was what Jigsaw, after all, was supposed to be.
Doctor Gordon, at least, looked taken aback. "I…well, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, at least. I wouldn’t wish that on…Tapp." It was interesting that that was all Gordon could come up with, in terms of a possible “worst enemy”.
”There’s no need to pity me, Doctor Gordon."
”Has anyone else?”
An unexpected question, definitely. "What happened to me is far from important, compared to you.”
***
He could feel how quickly, how easily, Doctor Gordon was softening towards him. It seemed to be easy, at least when it came to Amanda and Logan. Hoffman was…Hoffman in comparison, snarling and hissing in response to Jigsaw’s attempts to save him from himself. Amanda loved him as one would love a parent; then again, her biological father was the sort of man who didn’t deserve a daughter as wonderful as Amanda. That much was clear. A man who thought that locking his daughter in a dark closet for hours on end didn’t deserve said wonderful daughter in the first place. A case of bizarre priorities by the universe at large: Jill, who had been as excited as John was for Gideon, had been denied her child at the hand of a man she’d been kind to (the farmer and the viper, again), but the thankfully dead Mr. Young had a daughter that he saw as more of an object to torment than someone to nurture.
And Logan…he had been grateful to John, not only for saving his life and admitting he’d been wrong (“People don’t just say that,” Logan had said then) but for trying to save him, to put the pieces of his life back together. “In time, you won’t be known as a killer, John,” Logan had said. “You’ll be the savior of this city."
The implication was already there that Logan already saw John as his salvation. John could only hope that he could be everything Logan wanted him to be.
"I suppose,” John said, “This is going to be uncomfortable.”
A wince from Lawrence. “I’ve been in the medical profession long enough to know you’re trying to make this seem less painful than it is."
”Well…yes."
Lawrence winced. “I don’t think there’s anything worse you can do to me.”
For a moment, it seemed that John Kramer’s guts were meant to be twisted. He forced that down all too quickly. "I know,” he said. Then, "Just…trust me."
***
Forcing the replacement for Doctor Gordon’s lost foot on was not an easy task. But it fit, thankfully. Even as Lawrence looked down at the results, he said, “This…this is life-changing. I’ll have to learn how to start walking again…"
"You’ll know, Lawrence. You'll know."
"Was that…always your intent?”
”The game could have gone any way it would."
“That isn’t comforting."
"You’ll do fine. I promise you."
He could feel Lawrence’s surprise, his wonder at John’s encouragement. The way Lawrence looked at him…it wasn’t like John craved praise, craved exaltation; he had his share of religions he believed in but he would never aspire to be God. That would be madness on his part. But it felt like a reprieve: Logan’s relief as John repaired him, Amanda saying “You’re like my dad, only you’re not a drunken abusive idiot and you actually give a rat’s ass about me", even moments where it seemed Hoffman actually heard a word of what he just said. He hadn’t expected to become attached to his future disciples, but it seemed that he had anyway.
”Just try, Lawrence.”
Even the process of physical therapy was excruciating, John could imagine, but he was gentle with Lawrence all the while. Even as John stroked his hair long after Lawrence laid down, he was still amazed at how Lawrence seemed to shiver in anticipation of how John stroked his hair.
It was like Logan, recovering from first serving in Iraq and being amazed just at being shown anything resembling gentleness. Amanda, relaxing easily after John held her after one of her worst days. Just for example. They were so surprised to be shown anything that wasn’t violence. In some ways, John knew that too well (though in some ways, he had pinpoints of hope: he had Jill. He had his disciples).
“Thank you, I suppose,” Lawrence said. Then, “In a way…I never thought that Jigsaw could be kind.”
”Was I that frightening?"
"At first. Not…as much now…”
***
Doctor Gordon slept if only because he had no choice. Even watching, John couldn’t help but feel a certain wonder that this doctor, who he’d mistaken to be cold, forgave him and accepted him so easily. It was the same with Amanda — how could he love this same woman who’d contributed to Jill’s accidental miscarriage like he did now? And Logan — how could he have planned to care for Logan that deeply? Even watching the sleeping doctor, John could already feel a sort of protectiveness, a sort of warmth that he swore would be dangerous for even him. He hadn’t expected it. Doctor Gordon…he was content with Doctor Gordon appreciating him, learning to trust him. That was more important anyway; it was what Gordon needed. Even if John grew to love him, it would only be helpful as much as Gordon needed. It barely mattered what John needed. From the start, it never had.
It wouldn’t matter if John needed Gordon, ever, outside of future steps in the games. The man beneath was less important than the idea. And if John was around, it was to keep Gordon safe. After all, would he have bothered to save him if he was any other criminal type?
”You are safe with me,” John murmured. “You have my word.”
No response. Gordon was already breathing steadily, and it felt odd to be looking in on him like that. It felt like John was already intruding on something intimate, vulnerable. Like something he should have shared with his wife, or his daughter. In an ideal world after the bathroom trap, Gordon would be sharing this moment with his wife: perhaps Alison Gordon would look down at him, at half a smile on his lips, the peace that was there. Or Adam Stanheight would be — it was obvious that Adam had been a key component in making Lawrence better. Perhaps both Adam and Alison would be. They’d watch Lawrence rest easy, triumphant, and it would be more obvious that they loved him. That they were his salvation.
John would have no problem at all, letting Lawrence leave. The fact that Lawrence could at all was just another benefit of John’s games.