Once Mark got home from work, Abby greeted him at the door and gave him a long kiss. He didn't expect it, but appreciated it greatly.
"Hello," he said, giving her a small smile.
"Hi. Do you think we could talk about something?"
He nodded as he loosened his tie. "Of course."
Mark followed her into the living room, watching her as they both sat down on the couch. He was slightly on edge. Whenever someone asked to talk he began to wonder if they knew about him, especially Abby. However, she didn't seem upset, so he was more at ease than he would normally be if her mood was down.
"Okay, so I went to the hospital today and my doctor got me thinking," Abby said. "She came up with an idea that I think would be really awesome."
"What is it?" Mark asked, turning toward her and resting his arm on the back of the couch.
"So maybe you and I could go away sometime? Like, on a vacation. I'd love to somewhere with you like California or maybe out of country in Europe."
Mark liked the idea right away. "I would love that."
"Yeah?!" Abby said excitedly. She absentmindedly put her hands on his leg as she began to come up with ideas. "So maybe we could go to Paris or something? I have always wanted to try the food there. And of course the Eiffel tower. Or maybe Italy! Or Greece! If not out of country we could go see the west coast! Maybe a road trip!"
Mark watched her with a hint of amusement in his expression. "We have a long time to do all of those things, so why don't you pick one and that'll be first."
Abby thought about it. "I think a good place to start is Paris."
"Alright. We'll go to Paris."
Abby looked at him and chuckled. "Um, can we afford it though? It's really no pressure-"
Mark smiled. "I'll see what I can do. We can go after Strahm is found though and all this Jigsaw stuff is over, okay? I promise it's almost over."
Abby nodded. "Okay."
Mark pulled her closer and smiled.
"I also ran into Dr. Gordon today, with his wife," Abby said. Mark didn't show any emotion on his face that would give away how irritated he was with the doctor. "You never told me they were in a Jigsaw trap."
Mark shrugged. "I didn't know if he wanted you to know."
Abby nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that does make sense. I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Mark leaned forward and pecked her on the lips. As he pulled away, she tried to follow him slightly, her lips lingering. He knew what this meant and kissed her again, this time longer and more deeply.
"You're too good for me," Mark said truthfully, but she took it as a joke.
"Oh stop it."
"But you are."
Abby shook her head.
He gave her a soft smile, then stood and made his way to the kitchen. He shrugged his suit jacket off, setting it on the counter before grabbing a mug from the cupboard. Abby watched, studied the way his eyebrows drew slightly downward while he concentrated on pouring coffee.
"I have to go up to the hospital tonight to interview someone," Mark told her as he made his way back to the couch. "I just wanted to come back and say hello for a minute before heading out."
Abby pulled her knees up onto the couch, folding her legs so her feet were at her side. "Oh? Someone else was tested?"
"Seems like it. Strahm has gone MIA as well."
Abby blew through her lips. "You did mention that. So it really is him, huh?"
"All signs point to yes," Mark agreed. He sipped on his coffee, both thinking to themselves.
With Strahm MIA, that definitely looked good for Mark. Abby wanted to be relieved, but something felt off about the whole situation. However, she had no way of proving anything, nor did she know how to approach the subject, so she stayed silent.
She jumped as Mark tucked her hair behind her ear and ran his knuckles along her cheek. "Don't worry hon. Strahm's fingerprints were found at the scene, so we've got him. We just need to locate him, throw him in prison, and it'll all be over."
Abby looked at him in shock. "His fingerprints? Holy shit."
"I know." He smiled. "It'll all be over soon."
Abby smiled back.
"Well, I better get to it," Mark said. "It's getting kind of late, I wanna make sure she's still awake so we can talk."
"Okay, just be safe," Abby told him.
He blinked, then put his hand on her knee. "Is everything okay?"
Abby looked down at his hand, then back up at him. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine. I'm just kind of bummed it's not over. Paris sounds really nice."
"Soon hon, I promise." He kissed her once, then stood, setting his half empty coffee on the kitchen island. "I'll be back in an hour, two hours tops, okay?"
"Okay, be safe."
"I love you," he said, looking back at her as he put his jacket back on.
"I love you too." She did mean it. She gave him a warm smile.
Mark waved goodbye before leaving, closing the door behind him gently.
Abby sat back, letting out a frustrated sigh. The fingerprints were damning, so there was no reason for her to still have that anxious pit in her stomach. When she sat across from Strahm and spoke to him, he showed no signs that he was lying, at least that she could see. Mark could absolutely be telling the truth about everything, but there was something in the way he held himself and spoke that sometimes caused suspicion.
The pain of him being involved in the Jigsaw murders as an accomplice would be difficult to bear.
Would she be able to stay with him, if he was the one doing this?
Abby thought about it, biting her thumbnail as she stared at the coffee on the kitchen island. If he were a killer, could she judge? She had never told Mark about a specific part of her past, but then again, was that really the same thing? She was trapped.
Unless Mark was trapped too.
She genuinely didn't know. It would be earth shattering for her. He was the most important person in her life and she couldn't imagine just moving on without him. Abby told herself to forget about it for now, to trust him and let events unfold how they're supposed to. He would never hurt her, that she did know.
At least she didn't think so.
_____________
Mark stepped out the elevator on Simone's floor and was greeted with Pamela Jenkins, a reporter he felt slight disdain for. She was always trying to exaggerate Jigsaw's story for her own personal gain.
"Detective Hoffman, how about a quick word?" she started, falling into step next to him. Mark internally rolled his eyes, but didn't turn her away, instead taking a jab at her.
"Pamela Jenkins, the resident Jigsaw sensationalist."
"Just reporting the facts, Detective."
"Is that what you're doing?" He looked over at her. She could clearly tell he didn't take her seriously, but she was known to press people until she got what she wanted. "John Kramer: Conundrum of Carnage," he mocked.
She wasn't phased. "If you'd like to make a statement on the record I'd be more than happy to take it." She pulled out a notebook as Mark leaned up against the wall. They had reached Simone's room.
"Twisting the facts to make a better story is irresponsible," he told her. She'd interviewed him before and had made him look bad, so his grievances toward her were justified in his head. Hoping they were done, he said: "Excuse me, nice catching up."
As he turned to walk into Simone's hospital room, she blurted: "I know more about John Kramer than you might think."
Mark stopped, his heartbeat beginning to quicken. He turned back around and leaned against the wall once more. "Somehow I doubt that."
"Kramer left his wife a box in his will. Did you know that?"
Fuck. A box? What the hell could that possibly be?
Trying to keep his cool, he said: "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. How do you know it?"
"Probate court. It's public record for those who know where to look."
Damn, sometimes she was good. Nevertheless, Mark now had something else he had to deal with, which included speaking to Jill Tuck about the contents of said box. He decided to humor Pamela. "All right, what do you really want?"
"Jill Tuck. Help me get to her and I'll dial down on the sensationalism."
"Really?"
That would be good. Her stories always reached the public eye more than most due to her colorful and imaginative descriptions of events. The less eyes on the case the better. She nodded.
"I'll see what I can do," Mark said. With that he walked into Simone's room, meeting Pamela's eyes as he closed the door behind him.
Jill would just have to deal with Pamela's annoying interview. He decided that was a task to deal with later as he walked up to Simone's hospital bed. She was currently being questioned. She looked like hell, which one would expect after she cut her own arm off. Their trap had been gnarly, each having to cut pieces of themselves off and put them on a scale. Whoever's donations weighed the most got to live. He was impressed by her. He wasn't sure he could do the same in her situation.
"...He did this to me."
Mark, who was standing on the left side of her bed, began asking her questions. "Who did this?"
She looked up at him, her eyes glazed over with guilt, pain, and fatigue. "Jigsaw."
"You didn't cut your own arm off?"
"I did," she agreed. He asked the questions knowing full well he sounded like an asshole, but it was 'needed' information for the FBI. "I did, but he made me do it."
"And why is that?"
"Because... what Eddie and I were doing was wrong," she said, beginning to tear up. "We were ruining people's lives." Her voice broke and she began crying. Sometimes Mark forgot that the people in the traps were corrupt. He didn't think about them as people much anymore, merely stepping stones until he could finally put an end to all of this.
"He wanted us to learn," Simone said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
"And did you?" Hoffman asked.
That triggered something in her. She sat up. "Look at me! Look at my goddamn arm!" He did look, unsure of what to say. "What the fuck am I supposed to learn from this, huh?!"
Without another word, Hoffman walked away.
She hadn't learned. It made him wonder about all of the other victims, and what they would say if he had asked them the same question.
Maybe Amanda had been right about one thing.
_____________
There will be no more year long hiatus'. I'm finishing this and I mean it for real this time! I hope to have you all back <3
-Michelle