Hi there, and welcome to my first Watchmen fic. I have a small idea for another one or two, but for right now, it's just this one. Because this is a new way of writing for me, I'll tell you what I'm doing. First off, for the pleasure of all you crazy fan girls out there, (or, perhaps, crazy gay fan guys, doesn't really matter), I'm going to use the same technique that Twilight uses. That's right, there's a technique. The young lady I put in here won't ever be physically described any more than she has to be, which will make it easier for you peeps to insert yourself into her position if you want. Obviously, we all know what Rory looks like, so you can picture him that way. I mean, I guess there's somebody out there who would like to be, you know, the same as Alex gets to be with him. I guess. There's always one person at least. So, I'm doing that. Also, the story, while mainly told in third person, will shift to first person unexpectedly for the occasional journal or diary entry, so don't be surprised when that happens. And I'm not a hundred percent on this, but I might do things from various folks' POV, in third person also, not just Alexandra's and Rorschach's. Kay? So, there you have it. Enjoy!

Oh, and I own nothing, of course. XD

Blood and Ink

1

The hum of the airplane's engines nearly lulled Daniel to sleep. The only reason why they didn't was because he was headed to his brother's funeral.(note: whether or not he even has a bro, I don't know, but for the sake of this story, he does.) He was quite upset, obviously. He had known he had heart problems, but the doctor had said, last he heard, that they were, more or less, under control. Then again, he and Andrew never really talked that much, even though they were brothers. Andrew was like their father. He never really agreed with Dan's choice of... what to call it? Occupation? Way of life? If running around at night in a mask could be called either of those.

His heart, though, was not what had killed him, although it had played a role. The house had burned down with him inside. Smoke inhalation and sudden stress had caused his heart to act up, and he had fallen unconscious before he could make it to the door. The flames had done the rest. By the time the fire department had gotten there, they couldn't make it inside on time, as the flames had blocked the doorway. About ten minutes later, Andrew's daughter, Alexandra, had come home from work to find her house a blackened mess, and her father dead. The police had called him when she had been asked about any relatives. She had given them his name, but didn't know his phone number, so it had taken them a few hours to reach him. Having no other relatives who could take her in, as her mother and grandparents on both sides of the family were long gone, she was to be coming home with him. He had straightened out the house as best he could while in such a depressed mood, and then had left on the next flight to Maine, where his brother had moved in the hopes of having a better environment to raise a family in. He hadn't visited much after that, and Daniel didn't learn he had a niece until almost a year after she had been born, when Andrew had brought his family down for their first and last holiday visit. He came down very rarely afterward, particularly after Dan had become Nite Owl, but always alone. And now he was going up there to say farewell to his brother for the last time. He sighed and stared out of the window as the plane neared his destination, wondering why he hadn't just rented a car. He answered his own question with 'New York traffic, of course', and then closed his eyes for the rest of the journey.

He barely recognized his niece at the funeral. In fact, he probably would have wandered around all day looking for her if she hadn't been the one that remained so close to the urn in which his brother had been placed. Apparently, he had been so badly burned that cremation had nearly already occurred, it was simply a matter of completing the job for the sake of those who would be present. There were people that were telling her how sorry they were, and how wonderful a man her father had been and so on and so forth. She looked just like him, with the exception that she, like Daniel, had to wear glasses in order to see properly. It made him smile inside, to see his brother in the form of the man's daughter, and made him feel as though he might still be around, if only in her spirit. In all honesty, he knew nothing about how much like her father she was, though, or anything else about her for that matter. He knew she would be about twenty-two, as he had been very young when she was born, from what he could recall. It was sad that he didn't even remember how long ago she had been born, really. But that was all. He felt bad for it, as though it had been his fault they never spoke. He knew it wasn't, that after his mother had died the family had just sort of drifted apart, but it still made him feel mildly responsible. After he chose to don a mask and cape, his family had basically disowned him. And now here he was, and the only reason he was here at all was because Alexandra had, somehow, remembered his name. If she had not, he might have spent the rest of his life thinking his brother was still living.

The ride home was very quiet and subdued, since both of them were upset, and neither of them knew the other well enough to try and speak. By the time they got back to his apartment all he had gotten out of her was a very small smile that hadn't reached her eyes. He showed her the guest room, where she would be staying, and, after a long, awkward pause, he said to her, "Um... So... Why don't you just, uh... Unpack your things, and... I can, uh... Try and make us some dinner. Okay?" She simply looked at him and gave him that small, incomplete smile again. There was another pause. "Is there anything in particular that you'd like? I can see what I have..."

"No. whatever you can fix up is fine." They were the first words he had gotten out of her after their uncertain hello, which had occurred before the plane ride, and he could barely hear it.

"Oh. Uh, okay. Um... So, uh... Make yourself at home, then. I'll... Start cooking, and you can just come on out when you're ready." This sounded very stupid to him, even as he spoke it, but it was all he could think of. After receiving another incomplete smile, and a small thank you, he nodded and left, closing the door behind him out of politeness. Outside the door, he puffed out some air, running a hand through his hair, feeling miserable, and then continued to the kitchen, realizing after a moment that he was not a very good cook.

On the other side of the door, Alexandra Dreiberg looked around at her small bedroom, uncertain of anything, and then eventually placed the one bag of the things the fire crew had managed to salvage from the remains of her home on the bed, sitting on the end. She stared down at her lap silently, wondering why, when she still felt like crying, the tears wouldn't come.

A/N: Okay, well, that was the first chapter. I won't continue if people don't think it's any good, but thank you for reading anyways. Hope you enjoyed that, thanks! And Happy Holidays! ~NS~