December 1965

"Would you give me a hand here?"

The question slipped out before Dan thought it through—thought through who he was asking. He froze, the ribbon he'd been trying to tie fluttering back onto the table. Beside him, Rorschach was equally still.

It wasn't that Dan was afraid of his partner or anything ridiculous like that. It was just that they'd only been working together for a few months or so and though Dan trusted Rorschach to have his back in battle, their personal lives—or lack thereof—were still pretty rocky territory.

Dan knew nothing about the man behind the mask… except for the fact that he had a tendency to disagree with everything Dan said. Politics, morals, whether or not coffee should have sugar in it… half the time it just felt like Rorschach was disagreeing to pick a fight with him, filling the time when he couldn't fight with the scum on the streets.

Honestly, it was a miracle that he'd even gotten the guy into his workshop, though two weeks in and he still just stood stonily by the table as Dan tinkered, judging him no doubt. Sure enough, the creepy blobs on his mask churned and Rorschach let out a sound like a scoff.

"Thought you were Jewish," he said, accusingly.

Dan turned roughly away. "I am," he snapped, picking up the ribbon pieces. "Lapsed, okay? Just because I don't buy into religion generally doesn't mean I can't enjoy the culture. C'mon, what have you got against presents?"

Feeling Rorschach's gaze on his back, Dan suddenly felt foolish. Which in turn pissed him off because he'd actually been really pleased with his choices. The wrapping paper was a shimmering silver, reminiscent of sunlight glinting off fallen snow. The ribbon he'd paired it with was a bright red, see-through except for its edging. Dan was proud of this gift, dammit, so screw Mr. Grinch over there.

It was going to be perfect… just as soon as he succeeded in tying the damn bow.

"I'm sorry," Dan sighed. "Its been a long night all around. Look, how about calling it in? I'll see you this Saturday?"

It was a pretty clear dismissal, so Dan was surprised to hear Rorschach's footsteps coming towards him instead of moving away. A second later he got to see that purple would have been a nice choice with the paper as Rorschach laid a gloved finger along the ribbon's cross. Dan blinked up at his partner.

"Said you needed a hand," Rorschach said. He thumped his finger impatiently against the package.

"Oh my—oh my god. Did you just make a joke?"

"Hnn. Daniel."

"Right, right."

Dan's hands shook slightly as he tied the ribbon, being careful not to accidentally touch his partner's hand in the process. Rorschach seemed strangely calm though, just eying Dan (he's sure) with an easy, relaxed posture. As Dan tightened the bow Rorschach's finger slipped away, their timing, as always, impeccable.

"Thanks," Dan said and he really meant that.

Rorschach grunted, heading towards the exit now. Dan let him go, picked up a card and started writing, even though his hands weren't totally steady yet.

Happily Holidays, Sir. My apologies that this is so late.

It was still a week before Christmas.

December 1975

"Give me a hand with this?"

Dan hesitated before he said it, which was slightly ridiculous given that they'd been doing this for nearly ten years now. He'd wrapped a whole armful of presents over the decade, all on his own with the exception of the bow. Rorschach was certainly used to the tradition. He'd already stood and was leaning over the table—he only hesitated due to Dan's hesitation.

"You're good," Dan reassured and waved his partner to continue. He pressed the heel of his hand briefly against his forehead.

"Distracted," Rorschach noted. The word came out gravelly and strained. It was the most he'd said in days.

"… Yeah. Yeah I guess I am."

Dan sat on the chair heavily, peering out the kitchen window where snow was slowly piling up. Rorschach should probably head back to… wherever it was he holed up, if he wanted any chance of beating the blizzard. Neither of them could be bothered to hurry though and despite the violent, taciturn man he'd become (had become more of), Dan wouldn't deny his partner a couch if he needed one.

Rorschach was shockingly gentle when he leaned forward though. He placed a bare finger over the ribbon's cross, freckles pairing well with the green fabric. The wrapping paper was covered in chibi reindeers though and Dan nearly laughed at the ridiculous pairing—Rorschach and innocence.

He tied the bow with quick strokes, then scribbled out the card before Rorschach could see.

"Thanks," Dan said shortly, standing and nearly upending their untouched cups of cocoa. He hesitated. Again. "… You staying the night?"

Rorschach didn't turn to the window, or bow over his broken watch. He just shrugged.

"Okay?"

Dan smiled wanly. "Of course it's okay."

Rorschach nodded. The inkblots seemed to pool around his eyes.

"Never get me presents," he observed and shuffled out into the living room.

Dan briefly closed his eyes.

November 1985

Dan barged into his workshop, tears and pieces of armor flying as he stalked towards his table.

"Help me with this," he growled.

There wasn't anything good in the storage bin underneath his chair. There hadn't been time to shop yet so he'd have to make due with last year's scraps. Dan grabbed whatever paper and ribbon he first caught hold of, not caring if it matched or was properly representative. It just needed to get done.

He took a box of tools and upended it onto the floor. Sniffling horribly, Dan sat and wrapped it with sloppy movements, tearing it in places and getting tape every which way. He didn't care. It was only when Dan got to the ribbon that he paused, head snapping to where Rorschach was still hovering, staring him down.

"Help," he demanded.

Rorschach extended both hands, palm up. It was a surprisingly tender gesture.

"Daniel," he said. "There's no time. Veidt—"

"I don't care about Veidt. Hollis is dead. Do you get that, Rorschach? Hollis is dead and I don't care!"

Dan didn't realize he was up in his partner's face until there were strong arms holding him back. With a curse Dan tore away and took the stairs two at a time, up to the second landing where his costume used to reside. Beside it was a closet he only opened once a year.

Dan threw open the door and presents came tumbling out.

"I don't make them for anyone alive, Ror," he said, voice moving through anger and back towards tears. "They're empty. I don't even know where the hell I got the idea from but it's just something I do, okay? You were there," Dan pointed a shaking finger at his partner, almost accusingly. "The first time I did this. For Kennedy. You were there for Blair" (Rorschach's whole body flinched) "and everyone in between. You're here now so just—"

He was already walking towards the gift. Dan caught up and they tied the bow together, leaning together, the knot sloppy and oddly determined.

"This is for Hollis," Dan hissed, out of breath and crumbling. "It's going with the others and then we're kicking Veidt's ass from here to kingdom come and I swear—" Dan reached forward, taking Rorschach by his trench coat lapels and pulling them flush together. "I swear if you make me wrap one for you I'll… I'll…"

Dan bowed his head, biting his lip as Rorschach ran hands over his shaking arms.

"Come on, Daniel," he said. "Work to do."

Dan went, putting Hollis' gift reverently with the others.

December 1985

Dan excused himself from Laurie and Sally's company, citing a few errands he needed to run. He picked up the roast they'd be having on Christmas day and a new toy for Phantom Jr., the lab Laurie had insisted they get. Dan decided a treat was in order and picked up some candy at the local drugstore too.

He hesitated, standing in line. With hands hardly his own, Dan added wrapping supplies to his bill.

Black paper and a white ribbon.

It would make for a beautiful bow.