Power of Will, a SAW Fanfiction

Ch. 20 Pre-SAW: Amanda

Angelina Acomb

When she got the phone call, it had played out exactly as she had always feared. Ally had called to give her the worst news.

Mark was taken to the ICU, having been shot. By Toni Rosello.

She couldn't think straight as she tried to choose a sweater to put on. She needed to get ready to leave. Ally and Eric were going to be there any minute. She shouldn't be struggling to choose something to wear. Just choose one!

She realized she was crying and wiped at her cheeks.

Somehow, she had gotten to the floor. There was a dust bunny under her bed. Her knees throbbed. Her ears were ringing.

And the tears just kept pouring.

Warm hands on her shoulders and arms engulfed her. She recognized the smell of fresh laundry and Peter's body wash. "Ange. It's going to be alright. Let me help you. Come on."

She didn't remember much beyond the apartment.

Darkness. Movement. Lights.

It was beginning to rain. The cold didn't bother her. But the splash of raindrops jolted her awake.

She was walking to the hospital, the white building and the familiar red cross a beacon that wrenched her back to reality.

The smell of rubbing alcohol was like a sharp sting in her brain.

Will was there, an oversized blazer around her shoulders. Her dress was red. The dark fabric looked off. Wet. But not with rain.

There was blood on her knees. Blood stained her dress. And the suit jacket, despite the stains, was familiar.

She had bought it for him last Christmas. Tears made her vision blurry, once again. She wondered if it was Mark's blood.

"Angie," Will turned and threw her arms around her neck, pulling her in a trembling hug. "He's in surgery right now." Will smelled of copper and gunpowder and the ivory soap her brother had used since they were kids. She pulled her close, shutting her eyes tight and holding on for dear life.

"Please tell me he'll live," she whispered, praying to God and anyone that would listen. "Please. No matter what, don't let Mark die."

No one responded.

David Tapp

David Tapp shook his head as Toni Rosello's face disappeared behind the zipper of the oversized black body bag. It was one of their largest ones, XXXL, and the fucker barely fit.

He watched the coroners try to hold the seams together as they pushed the bulk down to pull the zipper up. Tapp wished the warm and fuzzy feelings of finally catching the bad guy would sink in.

But it didn't.

It just didn't feel right, the way it all ended.

And he had a creeping feeling in his gut, like a rot with roots. It was spreading inside, an itching burn that promised that this wasn't the last of their problems.

This city seemed to love attracting criminals of a whole new magnitude of pain in the ass.

Sing appeared by his side. "Looks like there's already violence on 9th and Cicero. Rosello's main stomping grounds are going through territory grabs from his underlings. Sounds like Zietta Rosello is trying to keep things under control and failing."

Tapp nodded, not surprised. "How's Hoffman?"

Sing raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't look good. Matthews and Kerry are at ICU with Maddox. He's in surgery."