A/N: Ok, I wanted to write some fic for Young!Rorschach/Daniel, back when they were n00bs. (Look ma, Rorschach is using personal pronouns!) Plus, someone posted 'motherhen!Dan' as a prompt, and I couldn't resist.
Daniel had known Rorschach for over a year; long enough for him to know that there wasn't much point in trying to argue with him. All the same, Daniel felt as if he had to make a token effort.
"We need to get you to a doctor," he told Rorschach.
"No."
"I have one I can trust, I know him through Hollis..."
"No."
"You're bleeding all over the owlship. Your leg-..."
"Will be fine. Looks worse than it is. Do you have some saline and a suture kit?"
"You're not sewing it up yourself."
"I've done it before."
"Jesus, man - what do you have against doctors?"
"Nothing. I just think that they're a potential liability." Rorschach had commented on Daniel's 'security risks' before, although now really wasn't the time to be making a big deal about it. "Do you have some saline and a suture kit or not? I need to do this before the adrenaline wears off."
"But..."
"Nite Owl.".
Daniel recognised that as Rorschach's way of saying 'shut the fuck up, kid', and went to fetch the requested items from the owlship's eclectic stash of medical supplies. It was pure serendipity that the owlship had medical supplies, really. Hollis had managed to get by with just a soldier's first aid kit, as that had been the only thing small enough to fit on his belt.
When he returned, Rorschach was already sitting down in the pilot's chair with his pants pulled down to his knees, examining a large knife wound on the thigh of his left leg. It made Daniel feel curiously awkward - the only part of Rorschach that he had seen uncovered before was the lower part of the guy's face, and even then, he could count those instances on one hand - but Rorschach seemed detached, as if he was accustomed to a certain lack of physical privacy in his life. It was rather at odds with his clandestine persona, and Daniel found himself wondering if Rorschach had ever belonged to institution of some kind. He could've imagined him being in the army, perhaps.
The injury was a nice, clean cut; a fat red line that was steadily oozing blood. It was large, but it didn't look too deep - not that Daniel could really tell; medicine wasn't his forte. Hell, he doubted that it was Rorschach's forte, either. All the same, he handed Rorschach the saline, then opened the suture kit for him.
"You know I don't have any anaesthetic, don't you?" Daniel said.
"You don't have any painkillers at all?" Rorschach's attention was focused on cleaning the wound, and Daniel wondered if he was really cleaning it enough.
"No, because if I needed them that badly, I'd rather see a medical professional, and I didn't th-... Shit, Rorschach, do you really know what you're doing?"
Rorschach answered him with a dismissive little grunt, then removed his gloves so that he could pick up the forceps and needle driver, gripping the tools awkwardly. Daniel watched, fascinated, and noticed that Rorschach's fingers were shaking. He had long, callused hands; Daniel also wondered if they were always that pale.
"If you're gonna insist on doing this... Are you sure you don't want me to do it for you?" Dan asked. He switched on an overhead light so that Rorschach could see better.
Rorschach was still focused on the injury. "Have you ever sutured a wound before?"
"Well. No," Daniel replied, feeling like a dumb teenager rather than a 22-year old adult. "I've read about how to do it, though."
Rorschach made a 'hrn' noise at him, then inhaled slowly and pushed the needle through his skin.
"Just how many times have you done this before, then?" Daniel asked.
Rorschach was quiet for a few seconds, then; "Once."
Daniel pushed his goggles up on to his forehead, so that he could stare at Rorschach properly.
"Had to start somewhere," Rorschach said.
"Yeah, I think I'm taking you to a doctor..." Daniel stepped back, but Rorschach quickly put the forceps down and grabbed Daniel's wrist.
"I'm fine. It's just an incised wound, too shallow to damage anything serious."
"You're sure?"
Daniel interpreted the pattern on Rorschach's mask as a tired glare.
"You're nuts," Daniel muttered, without thinking, then shut up and stood by Rorschach's seat. He wanted to ask, 'What the hell made you decide to learn to suture your own wounds one day?', but he knew that it would have been a stupid question. What the hell made Daniel build an airship in his basement? What the hell made him run around at night, getting in to fights with violent criminals? What the hell, indeed.
Daniel decided to keep quiet and watched Rorschach work.
To his surprise, the stitches were small and neat; even if Rorschach didn't know what he was doing, he could almost fool Daniel in to believing that he did. Sure, Rorschach held the forceps and needle driver like a kid trying to use chopsticks for the first time, but the end result was pretty good, considering. And the way that Rorschach tied the knots was a thing of beauty.
Daniel had the patience to watch Rorschach put four stitches in, and then his curiosity got the better of him. "You have a medical background?" He didn't mean to pry, but...
Rorschach just snorted. "Nite Owl. Lean back. You're blocking my light." There was a note of restrained irritation in his voice.
"Sorry." Daniel realised that he had unwittingly moved closer, so that he was practically breathing down Rorschach's neck. Rorschach was a guy who liked his personal space - which wasn't surprising, given that he waspresently sitting there in his boxers with his pants half way down his legs. "Just trying to see how you did it."
Rorschach exhaled, patiently. "l'll show you. Look. You push the needle downwards through the skin, then turn it so that the tip will emerge out the inside of the wound. Then you pull it through with the forceps. Pull the thread through, then return the needle to the inside of the wound, and push it through the other side, trying to keep both sides as level as possible..." He trailed off there, and paused.
Daniel eyed him. "Er. Rorschach?"
Rorschach put his tools down (still with the needle embedded in his skin) so that he could rest his hands on his knees for a few seconds. "'m fine."
"You sure you're not going to pass out?"
Again, Daniel saw that 'tired glare' pattern.
Rorschach picked up the forceps again, and very carefully pulled the needle out. He then tried to tie the knot, and spent an entire minute trying to wrap the thread around the nose of the needle driver, without success. The tremor in his hands was more noticeable now.
It made Daniel feel uncomfortable just to watch him. "Maybe you can leave that stitch as it is."
Rorschach's head jerked up, and he fixed Daniel with a brief, inscrutable look before focusing on the suture again. After another two abortive attempts, he finally managed to tie it.
"You okay?" Daniel was pretty sure Rorschach might have throttled him for asking, if he'd had the energy.
Rorschach nodded, slowly.
"Alright." Daniel rubbed at his eyes, trying to get rid of the marks that his goggles had left behind, and studied Rorschach. The vigilante always looked a lot shorter when he was sitting down and keeping still. Rorschach was the only person Daniel had ever known who had the uncanny ability toloom over people who were taller than he was. He supposed that this was an advantage; adversaries would misjudge Rorschach's size, and be surprised when they discovered that their target was smaller and faster than expected. Perhaps Rorschach had a bit of a Napoleon Complex, Daniel thought - then dismissed the idea, as it seemed rather unfair.
Rorschach did have really skinny thighs, though.
Daniel wondered why the hell he was looking at another guy's thighs.
He turned away, and reached under one of the owlship's control panels to retrieve a vacuum flask. Daniel poured a cupful of lukewarm coffee out of it and passed the plastic mug to Rorschach.
Rorschach rolled up the lower half of his mask, and took a cautious sip. The corner of his mouth twitched. "You got any sugar with you?"
"No. Sorry. I've got universal antidote pills, tear gas, water purification tablets... But no sugar."
"Owlship has everything except decent coffee." Rorschach grudgingly drank the rest of it, all the same.
As Rorschach was evidently healthy enough to complain about things, Daniel let himself relax somewhat. "I was afraid that you'd gone funny on me because you'd lost too much blood."
"I'm just light-headed due to low blood pressure. Should walk around a bit, would feel better then."
"Yeah, except that you still have your pants around your knees."
"Not very dignified, must admit," Rorschach muttered.
"You're saying that to a guy in an owl suit. At least you usually wear your underwear inside your clothes."
Daniel thought he saw a flicker of a smile.
He left Rorschach to drink his bad coffee, and went to find some bandages. "How did you get stabbed in the leg? I keep telling you, you should wear some armor."
They'd had this conversation before. Daniel had never got anywhere with it. "It hinders movement," Rorschach said. "Makes you slow. Like I said previously; I've considered it, and the disadvantages seem to outweigh the benefits."
"I've never had a problem with it."
Rorschach pointed at Daniel's suit. "You spend at least five minutes each night getting in and out of that thing. What would you do if you had to get rid of it in a hurry?"
"It needs some refinement, I'll admit." Daniel couldn't help yanking his chain a little; "But at least I didn't get stabbed in the leg." He threw the pack of bandages over to Rorschach, who caught it without really looking at it.
"Only because I arrived at the scene before you did." Good god, was Rorschach engaging in banter?
"True. Hell, you'd already knocked out one of the guys by the time I got there, and the rest were looking pretty spooked. I almost thought that they were going to make a run for it, but then one of them charged at you with that bike chain and you ducked and hit him so hard and the look of surprise on his face was priceless."
"Ennk."
"You seem to have some sort of dark gift for beating the shit out of people. It's amazing. I mean, I train daily, but it's going to take me a long time before I'll ever be that good," Daniel said, and realised that he was grinning.
Rorschach pulled the mask back down over his face, and shrugged, then focused on bandaging his leg.
"Have you ever thought of, uh... Well, do you think you could give me some pointers? Or instruction, whatever?"
Rorschach paused to stare blankly at him.
"I'd pay," Daniel ventured. He suddenly felt as if he had crossed a line - although what that line was, he wasn't sure.
"I don't need your money," Rorschach said, gruffly.
Daniel mimicked one of Rorschach's shrugs. "Alright."
And the conversation curled up and died.
Daniel started to pack things away, and noticed the trail of blood that Rorschach had left on the floor of the owlship. He scuffed at one of the marks with the toe of his boot. There was probably going to be more on the pilot's chair - he'd have to clean it in the morning, ideally after catching a few hours sleep. (Exhaustion was one of the nastier occupational hazards.) His own adrenaline had already worn off, leaving a hollow feeling behind, and he could feel his body starting to ache. As soon as he was back home, the first thing that he wanted to do was climb in to bed.
Did Rorschach have that luxury, or did he have work in the morning? Hell, was it even feasible to go out crimefighting and hold down a nine-to-five job at the same time? Sure, Hollis had done it - but Hollis, Daniel noted (in the nicest possible way), was a little bit nuts. When they made Hollis, they broke the mould. Hollis belonged to a different era. A better era.
Out the corner of his eye, Daniel saw Rorschach finish dressing his wound, then carefully stand so that he could pull up his pants; there was a dark stain down the outside of the left leg, still damp and sticky. He would have offered Rorschach a clean pair, if he'd had any. (Which caused him to make a mental note: keep a clean change of clothing on the owlship at all times.) Although Rorschach would have probably refused them anyway out of principle, but...
"Hey," Rorschach said.
Daniel quickly turned to face him again - a bit tooquickly, really. "Yeah?"
"I can give you some lessons, advice, that sort of thing. Don't know much about teaching, admittedly."
"I'd like that." Daniel found himself grinning again, and promptly stopped. It seemed to make Rorschach uncomfortable.
"To be honest, you've got the basics down just fine - you just need experience. And that has to be earned the hard way."
Daniel had the very strange feeling that Rorschach was humoring him. He didn't really mind it, though. He just nodded, and watched as Rorschach limped over to the owlship's exit hatch.
"I still can't believe that you sewed up your own injury, you crazy bastard," Daniel said.
Rorschach stopped, and regarded Daniel, canting his head to one side. Years later, Daniel would realise that he was probably the only person to call Rorschach a 'crazy bastard' and get away with it.
"I'll let you do it in future," Rorschach said. He stood there and silently stared at Daniel for longer than was strictly polite, then skulked off in to the darkness of the early morning.