a/n: Ok, the tentative plan for this fic is a series of stories based off of the verses from Jacques Brel's "Alone" (because it basically screams Watchmen).
If you haven't heard it, I recommend it in either English or French (they're different translation-wise, but both are wonderful)!
Most of the chapters will probably be Dan or Rorschach related… but some other characters may sneak in here and there… probably Ozzy and maybe even Silk Spectre I.
Disclaimer: Dr. M would probably say that owning anything is an 'unquantifiable abstract'… but on the off chance Alan Moore disagrees, he owns this… and I do not.
We rush on, you and I
We don't need love at all
We need thrills, we need speed
Then we stumble and fall
And we find...we're alone
Dan saw their partnership as a delicate balancing act; as a tangle of strict rules and assumptions and a twisted sort of etiquette. It drove him absolutely insane and invigorated him in a way that gave him a headache to try to understand.
And still, what he wouldn't give to have it back, he thought as his head fell back, heavy against his old couch.
It still seemed like just yesterday that they were stalking through the grime of the back alleys of their beloved, rotting city. It seemed like just last week that he held out his hand for their first too long handshake.
It seemed like years had passed since he watched, paralyzed, as his closest friend was reduced to a mockery of a Rorschach pattern in blood on the cold snow in the arctic.
Dan twirled a dark, blood-stained fedora around his fingers, and closed his tired eyes.
A choked laugh died behind his lips as he remembered the time he awkwardly introduced himself for the first time to a man he had staked his life on for years.
His pulse pounded in his ears, and adrenaline rushed through his veins like lightning. Nite Owl felt bizarrely light, as he and Rorschach wound their way through the dark, twisting alleyways after one of their more successful nights of patrol. He stopped abruptly, and Rorschach tensed at his side. Nite Owl knew without looking that his partner's hands were fisted, ready to strike, as his eyes scanned for danger through his mask. Rorschach turned, ever so slightly, to glance at him upwards at him out of the corner of his eye.
"What, Nite Owl?" Rorschach hissed, still fully anticipating being attacked.
"I have a name, you know," the words hung stupidly in the air, and sank slowly into the gutters. Well… so much for vigilante etiquette…
"Hrn," was his partner's only reply. He had already turned away, and continued briskly walking toward the Owl Ship.
"I'm Daniel," he called into the night, mouth working quickly, before his brain could catch up.
Before he could blink, Rorschach was back at his side, looking enormously intimidating in spite of the noticeable height difference between the two of them. That really shouldn't surprise him anymore, Dan thought absently.
He felt himself being shoved into a dark corner of the alley, as his partner muttered about stupidity to no one in particular.
Absolute silence fell on the two of them as Rorschach turned away to scan through the shadows.
Nite Owl let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when Rorschach turned back around to face him.
"Lucky… but stupid, very stupid," Rorschach growled at him. "Risk compromising your identity… can't trust…" he trailed off and turned to leave.
Nite Owl reached out for his shoulder, but thought better of it at the last moment. His hand fell limply at his side.
"Hey, it's ok…" he called after Rorschach's retreating figure. "I, uh, trust you… really".
Rorschach stopped mid-stride. His shoulders twitched slightly, as if he considered turning around for the smallest of moments.
Nite Owl blinked, and Rorschach disappeared into the night. He could have sworn he heard a faint, harsh whisper of "goodnight… Daniel"
…but it must have been a trick of the wind.
"Walter Kovacs," Dan whispered to himself, before he drowned the miserable words in warm beer.
He wished, more than almost anything, that he could have learned the man's name and face on his own terms, but Rorschach, his partner and his friend, was gone.
The world basked in a false utopia as Dan stared into the depths of a bloody hat, and felt utterly, hopelessly alone.