SAW: Hoffman

The Clinic

Hoffman arrived at the clinic by 12:45.

He never had been one to wait around.

He sat in his car for a while, watching the patients of Jill Tuck's clinic wander by with vacant expressions and darting eyes.

"Pathetic." He snarled in disgust as one patient, a young woman wearing a beanie hat, tripped over in her daze. She dragged herself to her feet and stumbled inside the clinic in her battered trainers and cheap clothes, pushing past several passing people to do so.

Hoffman got out of the car and sauntered past the patients without glancing at them, resisting the urge to throw them to the ground and remind them why they had to cherish their lives instead of abusing them.

Do you like how brutality feels, Mark?

It was 12:50 when he entered the clinic.

Patience is a virtue.

"I'm here to see Jill Tuck." He told the receptionist in a low voice as he flashed his badge, casting his eyes around for a comfortable spot to stand in. He liked to be able to see any potential threats or escape routes, should something occur.

Once a cop, always a cop.

"I'm sorry, Detective, but the clinic is running behind schedule. If you would like to take a seat in the waiting room, I will inform Dr Tuck that you have arrived. Excuse me."

"That won't be necessary, Danielle." Jill Tuck said calmly from behind him, "Detective Hoffman is a very busy man. Follow me, Detective."

She turned away promptly and headed into her office, smiling at the occasional patient as she passed and striking up a few polite conversations. Hoffman just glared at them all until their eyes dropped from his face.

"So," He sneered, "you called."

"I did." Jill nodded, gesturing towards a chair with forced politeness.

Neither of them sat down, not wanting to show weakness to the other.

He despised her.

She despised him.

"Has John sent a message from the grave?" He asked coldly, staring into her eyes, "I thought I made myself clear. You were not supposed to contact me again. We are finished."

"And I thought it was agreed that I have to play a role. He was my husband as well as your mentor, Detective." Jill responded with little emotion, "As for the lead, I have reason to suspect that John had plans for more games. Have you ever stopped to think about what you are doing to yourself, Detective? What would happen if you just walked away from this?"

"No." He lied smoothly, "Don't contact me again."

He left the office door ajar, not even bothering to see if she was behind him.

He could feel her dark eyes burning into his back anyway.

"HEY!" A voice screamed from across the room, "GIVE THAT BACK!"

Hoffman spun towards the sound, instinctively reaching for the gun he carried.

"Sara!" Jill called patiently, "Give Romina her hat back."

The beanie haired woman from outside was attempting to grab her hat from a taller girl with a shaved head and addiction to alcohol.

"YOU HEARD THE DOC! GIVE IT BACK!" Romina growled, attempting to shove Sara over. Hoffman was about to step in when he heard a familiar quiet voice.

"Enough." Cyan said nervously from beside Romina, "Sara, please. Give her the hat back. Romina, come on. You've had your appointment, now let's go."

"For you." Sara spat menacingly, glaring down at the girl with a blue stripe in her hair, "I don't have a problem with you, Rivera, but mark my words, trouble's going to come your way if you associate yourself with her. You get me?"

She squared up to Cyan.

"Is there a problem here?" Hoffman asked coldly, keeping a firm grip on his gun. The alcoholic looked at him and sneered as he held out his badge, "Detective Hoffman, LAPD."

"Sara Ramirez, and nobody gives a damn who the hell you are. My business is with her." She lunged for Cyan clumsily.

"Back the hell off." Hoffman growled, pushing Cyan behind him, "Threaten her again and I'll arrest you, do you understand me? Now get out."

"What are you, a cop or something?" Sara spat in his face, "I'm not afraid of the law. You'd better watch out, Rivera. I won't tell you again."

I'm not afraid of the law either.

But I know something that you are afraid of.

Jigsaw.

And he's got a trap with your name on it.

Mark leant forward and sneered, his dark hair falling into his eyes,

"And I won't tell you again. Get. Out."

The girl stared into his pale blue eyes and paled.

She left without another word.

"Thanks." Cyan breathed slowly, "I think...I think I'll be going now."

Mark shook his head slowly, strands of brown hair falling into his eyes as he tucked his gun away again.

"I want a word." He said, turning to glare at Jill, "We're done here."