(BOOK 2) MARK/HOFFMAN: A Saw Fanfiction

SEVENTEEN

Mark did a double take as he noticed Fisk and Matt Gibson walking down the hallway and past his office. 

Matt Gibson? Why the fuck is that idiot here? 

He decided not to engage. With their history, it was best if both of them kept their distance. He mad a mistake when he was younger, a big mistake right after Angelina was killed. He had shot someone who was surrendering, the man having attacked Gibson. He regretted it often now, but back then he had gone cold to the world.  He was so far gone during that time that he wouldn't have cared either way what happened to him, nor did he care that he killed someone. It could have cost him his career, but for whatever reason, Mark received a promotion for saving Gibson's life. But he knew one thing for sure: Gibson hated him. 

He sifted through paperwork, unable to focus, thinking about what Pamela told him earlier. The unknown contents of the box had him anxious. He wouldn't be able to meet with Jill until tomorrow. 

He blew through his lips, putting his head in his hands and intertwining his fingers in his dark hair. It was getting a lot harder to tie up loose ends. 

"Hey." 

Mark looked up to see Fisk in his door. "What's up?" He asked, regaining his composure. 

"I just wanted to talk to you for a minute." 

Mark nodded, gesturing to the chair across from him. Fisk walked in, sitting down. "So because we're a little... short staffed around here, heh," he started, giving an awkward chuckle. "We're bringing in people from different departments." 

"I saw that," Mark said, folding his hands together. "But really? Internal Affairs? And Gibson at that?" 

"I know, and I know you aren't fond of each other, but no one else is really willing to join the investigation. He's bringing along Rogers. We're also doing interviews to hire other outside people on." Fisk sat back, sighing. 

"I see. Well, I guess it's better than nothing." Mark shrugged. 

Fisk shifted, scratching the back of his head before sitting forward once again. "I um... there's one more thing I wanted to talk to you about." 

"Sure. Go ahead." Mark began stacking folders as he waited for Fisk to begin talking. 

"I'm going to be putting in my two weeks notice." 

Mark stopped and looked up at him in shock. "What?" 

"I'm sorry Mark, but I can't do it anymore. I've seen too many people that I care about die. I appreciate my life, but I don't want to take the chance." 

Mark didn't know what to say. This first thing that crossed his mind was coward, but the more he thought about it the more he understood. He knew Fisk was never a target, but after watching most of your collogues die in such gruesome ways, it would make Mark want to quit too if he wasn't one of the people behind it. 

"I understand," Mark said truthfully. 

"You can always call me if you need anything," Fisk told him. "We're still friends." 

Friends? 

"I'll keep that in mind. Um... where will you go next?" 

Fisk tilted his head back and forth, indicating he was unsure. "I'm probably gonna move out of the city, but not too far. I'm applying for a few departments upstate." 

Mark wished he could quit and move upstate. Abby had brought up a trip to Paris, which sounded expensive but necessary to decompress. He'd done the calculations, and if he was correct, the Jigsaw murders would finally be done in roughly a month and a half, especially now that Pamela knew about the box John left Jill. He was planning on speeding up the process a little bit.