Helpless (Hoffman/Strahm) *Saw*

Chapter One

Chapter One--

Hoffman knew it was wrong. He knew it, yet it didn’t stop him from thinking so. It was Strahms’ own fault. He didn’t listen to the tape fully; and Hoffman knew he wouldn’t! Hoffman was the one who set up this whole damn trap. Then why was he feeling this sudden pang of guilt at the thought of Strahms’ fate?

“I know who you are! I know!” The FBI agent yelled at the man who laid in the glass box, as it slowly depressed into the floor. The silver walls began to enclose on Strahm and he began a panic. The look of fear spread on his face at the sight of what was going to happen. He began to sprint around the slowly shirking room, trying to find a way out, but found nothing. Strahm pushed on the walls, still finding nothing. Strahm turned to face the man in the box.

“Tell me how to stop it!” Strahm screamed at Hoffman. Mark looked away from the pleading eyes. He couldn’t bare to look at them. Fists slammed down on the box, making Mark flinch. “Fuck you!”

 As the room begun to get smaller, Strahm begun to panic. Hoffman started to feel the extreme guilt fill his body. Just a few feet were left and Peter got close to the glass box that his face close to touching the glass. Tears were in the corner of his eyes as he pleaded to Hoffman,

“Please.” He begged for his life. That simple word made Hoffman lose it. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. The guilt of it all was eating him inside out. Quickly Hoffman opened the glass door.

“Get in,” Hoffman said to a still terrified yet shocked Strahm; but that didn’t stop him from getting into the glass box with just a few feet to spare.

Hoffman ignored the stinging pain from the shattered glass that he laid on. Instead he looked up at Peter, who laid on top of him. Mark stayed silent. Listening to the heavy, uneven pants Peter let out. Peter set his head down in Hoffmans’ neck, just being thankful he was still breathing. Mark carefully threaded his fingers through the other males hair. Just wanting to calm him down slightly.

 Strahm, looked up, and sat up slightly to look at Hoffman more closely. He put his hand next to Hoffmans’ head forgetting the pain it had caused him. He felt the blood drip from the new cuts, but he couldn’t seem to look away from those piercing blue eyes, that may lay the answer to why he saved him.

“Why?” Peter choked out. Hoffman pushed Peters brown hair out of his eyes. He really didn’t even know why he saved him. Didn’t he hate him? He wanted him dead, right? Mark set his hand on the special agents cheek and locked eyes with him.

  

“I don’t know,” was the only thing Mark could say. He didn’t know, and it was confusing the fuck out of him. They were so close, Hoffman noted. Their noses just about touched.

        The walls fully crushed together, making a loud echoed bang. Strahm shivered; and whimpered slightly starting to feel to feel the pain in his hand from the glass shards. Mark noticed his distress and slowly took the other males hand. Making him lay fully on top of Hoffman. Hoffman placed a tender kiss on the gash on his palm, while keeping his eyes locked on Strahm. Peter noticed the small drop of blood that stayed on Hoffmans lip after he let go of the gentle kiss; and wiped it away with his thumb. Peter watched the detectives lips as he did so. That didn’t go unnoticed by Hoffman. Mark put his hand back in Peters hair which made him look back up at him. Their eyes locked, and something clicked within the two males. Their faces begun to get closer and noses bumped. Without  a second thought their lips met in a curious kiss.