Author: Carol Anne Caiafa
Pairing: John/Hoffman, implied John/Amanda
Genre: Slash and some implied het
Word Count: 430
Warnings: Horror themes, angst, heavily AU
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, no profit, suing is futile!
A/N: Written for the angelfiends Valentine’s Challenge. Prompt: Glory
Even frail and fading, John Kramer is still glorious.
The light in the blue eyes has not dimmed, though his body grows more fragile day by day. His work will be carried on, and the games will continue.
Hoffman will make sure of that.
In the beginning, John was merely an angel of death to Hoffman. Sternly rebuking him for the vengeance he took for his sister’s killing, and drawing him at first unwillingly into a dark world of harsh lessons for the ungrateful. Lessons in which there was usually much agony, and blood to be shed.
John was fearsome and bewildering in those days. But now Hoffman sees him as wise, and even beautiful.
“Everyone deserves a chance,” John had told Hoffman. And the man who is called Jigsaw by the media has truly offered Hoffman another chance to live, to make a difference.
Hoffman treasures the time he spends with John now. But these precious moments cannot last. The cancer keeps eating away at John, and the pain that his mentor is in disturbs Hoffman more than he cares to admit.
And it is not just physical suffering that makes John hurt so.
Hoffman knows that John loves Amanda. For her, he has broken his rule of pure emotional detachment, necessary to bring about enlightenment. And he also knows that John worries about Amanda. About her turbulent feelings and mental state, and if she truly has what it takes to carry on John’s vital mission.
He would be jealous of her if it were not for one thing – John has broken his vow of detachment for Hoffman also.
It first happened during one of those all-important talks about the games to be set up, and about philosophy and belief. John had been lying on his sick-bed, pale and wan, but his gaze remained calm and steady, his voice hypnotic as always. Hoffman had listened intently and nodded thoughtfully, and had at last reluctantly begun to rise from his chair, ready to leave. John had, however, reached up with whatever last vestige of strength he possessed, and laid a hand on Hoffman’s shoulder, pushing him back into his seat. He pulled Hoffman towards him and kissed him, deeply and tenderly.
When Hoffman finally left John’s side, his head felt light and blood pulsed in his veins as if he had only just come to life.
Now he can never envy Amanda, though he may have been tempted to before. He shares something with her now – the heart that John had said should never be involved in all of this.