Disclaimer: Still don't own it.
A/N: The title comes from the song "put your camera down" by Tokyo Jihen. It was what inspired me to write this fic.
On a cold Saturday afternoon, Dan was bored out of his mind. He couldn't get anything onto paper due to his severe writer's block, and the weather was too unforgiving to even bother setting foot outside. Eventually, he decided to go down to his basement. Looking at the old costume sent a mostly pleasant wave of nostalgia through him. Sometimes he wished he hadn't quit. Running through the dingy alleyways and across the rooftops with his odd and violent partner were the best times of his life.
Sinking to the floor with a cup of hot chocolate in his hands, he let his mind wonder through the "happier" memories of his crime fighting days. Most of those memories took place in the early years, long before Rorschach had lost his mind. Although, there were a few events Dan remembered from after the Roche incident that brought a goofy smile to his face.
One event in particular took place in 1976, when the city had experienced one of its coldest winters. Dan even had to resort to using his snowsuit on some nights. He offered Rorschach something warmer than his old trenchcoat, but as he expected, the shorter man declined, stating that the sharp winds and below freezing temperatures didn't bother him. Due to running around in the cold night air, not getting enough sleep, and not eating well, Rorschach's health called it quits. It was the only time in all the years Dan had known him that he ever got sick, which was rather astounding, given his lifestyle.
He took another sip from his warm mug and laughed quietly to himself. If he ever told anyone that his favorite memory was of the one time his partner was ill, they'd think he was some kind of sadist. But there was no way he could explain what made those few days so incredible.
"Damn it, Rorschach! I'm not taking 'no' for an answer," Dan huffed as he practically dragged the masked vigilante out of the owl ship. "I know you won't take care of yourself if you're left alone."
"Will be fine, Daniel." Rorschach attempted to struggle against Dan's grip, but his body was too weak. "Will take medication."
"Yeah, sure. And then you'll go running out all night, trying to beat up every bad guy in the city." After Dan got him to sit at the workbench, he took off his hood and goggles, wondering just how insane he was for attempting to control his partner. "Look, I'm not going to invade your personal space or anything. I'm just going to make sure you get some rest and eat more than just cold beans and sugar cubes."
"Don't eat just that," he replied defiantly.
Dan sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. "I know. I just want to make sure you get better, okay?"
Rorschach merely sat there, head bowed slightly with his back ramrod straight. It seemed like he really didn't know what to do in this situation, but Dan hoped he'd come to his senses . . . whatever senses he had left.
Then, without warning, Rorschach broke out in a coughing fit. His whole body shook, and horrible choking sounds emitted from his throat between coughs. Dan was about to reach out to rub his back in a soothing manner before he remembered who he was dealing with. But when Rorschach actually pushed his mask up so that he could breath more easily, Dan didn't care anymore. He lightly put his hand on the man's back, rubbing small circles over the dingy trenchcoat. Dan wasn't even sure if Rorschach noticed; he just kept coughing. Eventually, though, the fit calmed down, and Rorschach was left wheezing. Dan's hand stilled, and when he felt his partner stiffened up, he retracted the offending appendage.
"Fine," Rorschach croaked. "But only for one day."
"It's going to be until you get better."
"Good motivation then."
He rolled his eyes at the comment. Then he waved for his partner to follow him upstairs, knowing full well that offering to help the man up would only insult him.
"I'll heat up some soup. In the meantime, you should go lie down." As an afterthought, he said, "You can take the bed in the guest bedroom if you want. It's more comfortable."
"Couch is fine."
After the shorter man trudged into the living room, Dan searched his cabinets, hoping he actually had any soup. Luckily, he found a dusty can of chicken noodle, which he quickly deposited into a small pot on the stove. Then he went back down to get changed, but not without checking in on his partner first, just to be certain that he hadn't snuck out the front door. The lumpy form on the couch was testament to how sick the man really was. After all, Rorschach very rarely listened to Dan on matters that didn't pertain to crime fighting.
Once the soup was ready, Dan brought him a bowl, not caring if he made a mess on his couch. He was extremely surprised to find the man asleep, his mask still pushed up past his nose. Dan stood there for a moment, staring at his friend in sympathy, before he went back to the kitchen to put some plastic wrap over the bowl. Then, after setting it on the table in front of the couch, Dan sat on the floor gracelessly. He wasn't about to sleep in his bed when he knew the likelihood of Rorschach sneaking out in the morning was very high. So he leaned against the couch, the side where Rorschach's head was resting, and tried to fall asleep.
Later on, Dan awoke to the sounds of clanking and slurping. At first, he was confused as to why he could see clearly, but then he realized he fell asleep with his glasses on. He looked behind him and saw Rorschach practically inhaling the soup. He stared at him, not exactly knowing what to say.
"Morning, Daniel," Rorschach greeted between slurps.
Dan blinked and adjusted his glasses. "Morning. Did you, um, sleep well?"
He nodded then proceeded to drink the broth directly from the bowl.
"At least you still have your appetite," Dan stated, more to himself. His back ached as he stood, but he immediately forgot about that when he saw the time. "Rorschach! It's not morning! It's two in the afternoon!"
All he got was a shrug.
Dan sighed, something he had a feeling he'd be doing a lot of in the coming days. Then, once Rorschach pulled his mask down, he noticed the erratic movement of the inkblots. "Hey, what's up with that?" he asked as he pointed to the vigilante's "true face." When Dan didn't get an answer, he suddenly remembered that the ink responded to heat. "Uh, I think you might have a fever."
"Feel fine."
Frowning, Dan said, "If you plan on using that line a lot, don't bother. I'm not going to believe you. Now stay put while I go find the thermometer."
"Not a child."
He could tell this was going to be much harder than he originally thought. "I know, but please just listen to me. I have your best interests at heart."
"Best interests are locating scum and dealing out punishment."
Dan felt like shaking him, but he just took a deep breath and went into the bathroom to find the small device. When he returned, Rorschach was leaning back into the couch, his trenchcoat and suit jacket open. Dan wordlessly handed him the thermometer, which Rorschach took with a sluggish motion.
"Did something happen? I mean, you seem a little . . . "
"Dizzy," he finished before pulling his mask up and popping the instrument into his mouth.
"Oh."
They waited for the beep in complete silence. Dan was glad he was stubborn about not letting Rorschach go off on his own. There was no way the man could fight in this condition, but he'd try anyway and would probably end up getting seriously injured, maybe even killed. Dan shook the thought from his head as the thermometer let them know it was ready. Rorschach took it from his mouth and looked at the digital numbers, making a strangled noise and refusing to give it to the taller man.
"C'mon. Let me see." Dan had to practically wrestle him for it, and once he got a look at the screen, he understood Rorschach's reluctance. "104? Geez, Rorschach! Any higher and I'd think about taking you to the hospital!"
"No hospital," he ground out.
"Trust me. I don't want it to come to that, but that means you have to listen to me. You need to rest, eat properly, and bring that temperature down."
Rorschach fidgeted for a moment, probably thinking over his options. Luckily, he gave Dan a curt nod and sunk further into the couch.
"Good. But, um . . . " He winced, knowing what was coming. "That mask isn't going to help. It's keeping all of the heat in."
"No."
Dan held up his hands defensively, taking a step back. "I know you don't like taking it off, but you have to. If you want, uh, well . . . Okay, how about this? You can keep the mask on if you sit in a tub of cold water for a little while."
"Not getting into tub of water."
Massaging his temples, Dan was ready to explode with frustration. "What are you, a cat? I'm saying you can keep the mask. Just strip down to whatever and sit in the tub. I won't intrude on you."
Rorschach stared at him for what felt like hours. Dan could tell that he was angry at him for his outburst, and he immediately regretted talking to him that way. Just as he was about to apologize, the shorter man slowly got to his feet. He swayed a bit, then made his way to the bathroom.
Once Dan heard the door shut, he nearly collapsed onto the couch, already exhausted from dealing with his obstinate partner. Suddenly, the old piece of furniture felt a lot more comfortable than he remembered it being. His eyes slowly closed as he sunk into the leftover warmth of his partner.
It was an hour later when Dan snapped awake. After looking at his watch, he cursed and ran down the hall, met with a closed bathroom door. He didn't hear anything from inside, which worried him. Dan knocked, but it was still silent, and when he tried to turn the knob, it was locked.
"Rorschach, I'm coming in," he warned as he reached for the hidden key. Just as he was about to open the door, it opened for him. "Jesus, Rorschach! You startl—"
Dan's eyes widened at what he saw. His partner was dressed only in a soaked wife beater and boxer shorts, his mask pushed up and his body hunched over. Upon closer inspection, the man was shivering slightly.
"Didn't help."
"H-how long were you sitting in it?"
"Until now. Fell asleep in tub."
His level of concern skyrocketed at that. "You could have drowned!"
"Wouldn't do something so stupid."
Not bothering to reply, Dan felt Rorschach's forehead, which was burning up through the latex. Ignoring the futile attempts to push him away, Dan took Rorschach's left arm and swung it over his own shoulders. "You need to lie down. Why did you stay in there for so long? That probably did more harm than good." He led him to the guest bedroom, not bothering with the couch anymore. "Rest while I get you more soup. I'll bring you some water, and then I'll go out and get some medicine. I checked last night, and I don't have anything here. I'm not very prepared, am I?" He tried to keep his voice light, but it was thick with worry.
After he set Rorschach down, he realized that the wet clothes wouldn't do. Dan quickly went into his room and searched through his drawers. When he returned, he handed him some clothes he hoped would fit.
"Daniel."
Rorschach's tone made him halt at the doorway. Glancing over his shoulder, he grinned slightly at the man, who was staring at the floor. He knew it was Rorschach's way of saying "thank you."
Dan remembered very clearly how panicked he was for the rest of that day. By nightfall, his partner's fever had gone down enough that he no longer feared having to drag the man to a doctor. Rorschach was so out of it, though, that he didn't seem to care he was rather exposed. Previously, the only amount of skin Dan had ever seen on Rorschach's body was the lower half of his face and one ungloved hand. But that day he got to see what was under the layers of clothing, and he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Rorschach would have to be built in order to inflict so much damage on criminals. Still, it took a bit of effort for Dan not to stare, especially when he noticed light freckles covering his shoulders and arms.
That night he had given Rorschach his privacy and slept in his bed down the hall, confident that the man was in no shape to sneak out. In the morning, Dan had felt refreshed, never having been able to get a proper night's sleep with all the crime fighting he did. It was actually rather nice to take a break from it, but he kept that to himself.
The day went much smoother. Rorschach's fever went down considerably, although he slept for most of the daylight hours. At night, the man was wide awake and fought with Dan about going out.
Eyes closed, he smiled widely as he thought about what that argument had revealed.
"Where are clothes?"
Dan looked up at him from the couch, not really taken aback to see that he was walking around. "In the dryer."
"Washed them? Why?"
He stared at him blankly. "I think that's pretty obvious." As Rorschach walked away, he continued, "I didn't bother with your coats, though. They have to be dry-cleaned." Going back to his newspaper, he mumbled, "The pants should've been, too, but they looked like they hadn't been washed in years. Honestly, why am I surprised."
Rorschach merely grunted as he disappeared around the corner. Then he returned a few minutes later and headed for the kitchen. Dan didn't think anything of it until he heard a door open and shut.
He bolted up from the couch and ran into his basement, catching Rorschach by the wrist. "Hey, where do you think you're going? You're not completely well yet."
"Well enough," he replied, yanking his wrist free
"Rorschach, I'm serious. You only just got over your fever, and your cough still doesn't sound too good. You need at least another day before you go running around."
The shorter man froze, which made Dan wince. He recognized that stance. Rorschach was pissed and anything could set him off. If Dan said the wrong thing, he'd be rewarded with a solid punch to the face.
Warily, Dan walked down the remaining steps. He knew he couldn't lose his nerve now. The irritating man was on his way to recovery, but if he pushed his body too far, he'd end of collapsing somewhere. He had to convince Rorschach to stay, even though he knew that was nearly impossible.
"Daniel."
His warning.
The taller man stopped, his eyes catching sight of something useful. Quickly, he grabbed the object and swung it into the side of his partner's head, silently apologizing. Rorschach stumbled a bit before he went crashing onto the floor. His reaction time had slowed, due to his poor health. Dan was hoping the blow would knock him out, but of course it didn't. Groaning, Dan wrestled with his partner to keep him down. He earned a knee to his gut and a punch to his face, which sent his glasses flying, before he was able to subdue the fuming vigilante. It was an odd sight, Rorschach on his stomach, his hands pinned to the ground.
"Look, you have to get better first," he said as he leaned down to get a better hold on the man. "How do you expect to beat the living crap out of someone when I can overpower you?"
Rorschach growled and squirmed a bit, attempting to slam the back of his head into Dan's face. "Get off," he hissed.
"I will if you promise to—"
With what probably took Rorschach all of his strength, he knocked Dan off of him with a sharp twist of his body and ran towards the tunnel.
"Damn it," he muttered, getting up as fast as he could to go after his bullheaded partner. He caught up with him just before he reached the hatch, slamming the smaller body into the side of the tunnel harder than he meant to.
"Daniel."
Slightly out of breath, but no worse than Rorschach, Dan only tightened his grip, his head hung low. "Please . . . I just don't want anything to happen to you." He couldn't believe what he was saying. He felt like such an idiot, and that feeling got worse when a strange nervousness arose from his gut. It was like he was a teenager again, trying to work up the nerve to ask a pretty girl out on a date. Oh dear god. He just compared Rorschach to a pretty girl.
"Will be fine. Can take care of self."
"But you're too stubborn to even bother. I know you." Now he was just sounding pathetic, begging the man to see his side of the argument.
Rorschach was silent for a moment. Then, just as the silence was becoming unbearable, he asked, "Why?"
"Why what?" Dan still couldn't look at him.
"Why care so much?"
At that, he looked up. He honestly didn't know how to answer that question. It'd been in the back of his mind ever since the previous night, but he had tried not to think about it, tried not to think about what all those years of catching criminals with him had led to. Sometimes, Dan could admit it to himself, what the true reason was for wanting to be partners with a man who was so incredibly different from himself. But, most of the time, he just pushed all thoughts of Rorschach out of his head and focused on anything at all. Now, though, he was being forced to pull those thoughts back, and he hated it.
What he felt for his partner was more than friendship, but it definitely wasn't love. He didn't even think there was a word for what he felt. There was no way he could articulate it, and now Rorschach was asking him to do just that. There was only one thing he could do.
Cautiously, Dan lifted one hand, the other still keeping a firm grip on Rorschach's upper arm, and he cupped the man's face. Black ink formed under his touch, and he couldn't help but marvel at how smooth the mask felt. What was even more amazing, though, was the fact that Rorschach hadn't pushed him away. Dan thought that maybe he was just too shocked to react properly, although the shorter man did stiffen up considerably. He imagined Rorschach's eyes were wide and full of uncertainty.
In that moment, Dan desperately wanted to lean forward, but he stopped himself. It would be too much all at once. Instead, he dropped his hand and took a step back, suddenly too embarrassed to even look at Rorschach. His mouth opened, ready to spew forth words of apology and regret, but no sound came. He supposed he just couldn't lie. Not knowing what else to do, Dan started to walk back. He knew he couldn't convince the man to stay, especially after what he just did.
Rorschach hadn't moved at all throughout Dan's lapse of sanity and self-preservation, so he didn't expect to hear footsteps following him as he walked out of the tunnel. Dan was almost afraid to look back. Instead, he distracted himself by trying to find where his glasses had landed. After he retrieved them, a hand had descended onto his shoulder. He turned around to face Rorschach, but the man only stared at him. After too much time passed, Dan was about to turn back to the stairs, but a hesitant voice stopped him.
" . . . Will stay."
Dan knew his hearing had to be terrible for him to think that Rorschach said he'd stay. "W-what?"
"Will stay," he repeated with more confidence. "Until health returns."
"Why?" Dan asked stupidly.
A new sound emitted from Rorschach, one that Dan thought might be from embarrassment, a feeling he was sure was extremely unfamiliar to the shorter man. Then, very slowly, Rorschach walked up to him and touched his gloved fingers to the side of Dan's face. It only lasted for a second, but it felt like the most intimate touch Dan had ever experienced in his life.
Once Rorschach walked past him, Dan couldn't stop smiling. It was hard to repress it when they entered the kitchen. Without saying a word, his partner took off his hat and trenchcoat, then began searching for something. Dan watched him curiously.
"Out of sugar. Need to get more," Rorschach stated simply.
Normally, a comment like that would annoy Dan, but he just had to laugh. "Sure. I'll pick some up when I get the medicine. Speaking of which, I should really go get that now. I trust you'll still be here when I get back?"
Rorschach only nodded as he walked out.
Dan searched through the cabinets and fridge to see if he needed to pick up anything else. Satisfied with his mental list, he walked into the living room, expecting to find a lump on the couch. When he didn't see one, he stood there for a moment before going upstairs. Again, he had to repress a smile when he saw the masked vigilante curled up under the bed sheet.
Dan was grateful that a 24-hour convenience store was only a few blocks from his apartment. He was able to do his shopping in under twenty minutes. When he returned, he set some pills, a tall glass of water, and a sugar cube on the nightstand while Rorschach slept.
Then he realized just how tired he was. He still hadn't caught up on his sleep, despite feeling revitalized earlier in the day. As he was closing the door, a movement from the bed caused him to look back.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
Rorschach didn't respond, only threw the pills into his mouth after lifting his mask and drank the entire glass of water. He almost didn't notice the sugar cube. He snatched it from the nightstand and chewed on it for a minute or two before lying down again. Strangely, Rorschach left the mask as it was.
Dan shrugged and went to retrieve the empty glass. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rorschach shiver. It was then that he remembered taking off the comforter and blankets the previous night, due to the man's fever. Dan mentally slapped himself for his forgetfulness and went into the closet to retrieve them.
When he stood at the foot of the bed, unfolding the blankets, Rorschach sat up so fast that Dan actually jumped. "Whoa! Calm down! I'm just putting these back on."
"Am fine, Daniel."
"Don't lie. I saw you shiver." He walked to the side of the bed and flung one particularly fluffy blanket out over the mattress. "It is a little chilly in here, and being sick makes your body temperature go all out of whack, so it's understandable that you're so cold."
Rorschach just sat there, alert and completely rigid.
Dan tried to ignore the vibe he was getting from the other man. It made him feel slightly nauseous. He wasn't planning to jump Rorschach's bones, which was how the masked vigilante was acting. He knew there were boundaries that he couldn't, could never, cross. Although, if Dan was honest with himself, he would have no problem crossing that very important line if Rorschach did so first. But, of course, that would never happen.
After setting the comforter down, he stood there for a moment, trying to think of the right words to use. "Um . . . look, I know – I know you don't want to talk about it, but . . . this tension, it's . . . I mean, you . . . " Frustrated with not being able to get his point across, he decided to just come out and say it. "I won't do anything you don't want me to. It's obvious that you have your defenses up right now, and I understand the reason for that, but . . . I'm just not that kind of guy." Dan almost bit back what he was about to say next, afraid of the answer. "You trust me a little, don't you?"
Rorschach continued to stare at him, and Dan very much wanted to turn the lights on. The darkness was starting to creep in on him, making the tension between them overpowering. But Dan was afraid to move until Rorschach either spoke or lied back down.
Eventually, Rorschach slouched a bit, and the thin line that was his mouth opened as if to speak. Instead, he let out a puff of air and drew his knees up under the thick blankets. He then dug the heel of his palm into his forehead, clearly annoyed.
"Sorry," Dan said reflexively, something akin to panic rising from his gut.
"No."
The taller man cringed, waiting for the onslaught of rage and disgust.
"Honest man, Daniel. No need to apologize for that." Rorschach rested his arms on his knees, appearing very tired all of a sudden. "Must understand this is wrong. Unnatural. Perverted."
"In what way is it wrong, though?" Dan couldn't help but interrupt, curiosity burning through him. "I know you're not a religious guy, so what makes you think like this?"
Rorschach actually seemed to contemplate Dan's words for a moment before saying, "No reason. Always thought this way."
"But . . . but that's not something you're born with. People aren't just naturally filled with prejudice."
"Think it's right, then?" Rorschach accused.
He didn't even skip a beat. "Yes. I've known one or two gays in my life, and they were normal people who just wanted to love and be loved, no different from everyone else in the world."
"Don't care about 'love.'"
Dan was getting so fed up with his partner's ideology and simple answers. "Then what do you care about, Rorschach? Do you really have such a one-track mind that all you ever think about is retribution?"
"Yes."
"Then what the hell happened down there tonight?" he shouted.
"Moment of weakness."
His anger taking hold, Dan stepped towards the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, ignoring how Rorschach inched away from him. "You said that I'm an honest man. Well, I'm going to be honest with you right now. Your 'moment of weakness' made me feel . . . the happiest I've been in a very long time. I didn't expect any of this to happen, but I'm glad it did. And I know you won't change. Hell, you're worse than you've ever been. I wouldn't be all that surprised if you chopped my hand off for touching you the wrong way."
"Wouldn't do that. . . . Break fingers, maybe."
He gave a sad chuckle, the anger leaving as quickly as it came. "Yeah, that's more your style," he said quietly.
As Dan stared at the floor, Rorschach hesitantly moved closer to him. He could see Rorschach's movements out of the corner of his eye, but it was hard to tell exactly what he was doing in the dark. It wasn't until his partner's hands suddenly shot out and grabbed him by the shoulders that he knew one line was about to be crossed.
Dan had absolutely no idea why Rorschach was kissing him, not after everything that was just said, but he couldn't hold a coherent thought in his head anyway. Afraid of doing the wrong thing, Dan merely sat there as the other man's lips pressed hard and unmoving against his own. Rorschach made no other motion, as if screaming that he'd never kissed anyone in his entire life. It would have felt awkward to Dan if he didn't notice the grip on his shoulders had softened just a bit.
He had a brief thought that he could be happy if Rorschach threw out his groundless hatred, but he knew that kind of life with his partner would never work out, not the way he'd want it to. The man's prejudices were so ingrained into his personality, that if he suddenly didn't have them anymore, Dan knew he wouldn't be the person he had fallen for. But Rorschach giving in this much was somewhat thrilling. He only hoped that it wouldn't make him want more down the road because he knew this sort of thing only happened a once in a lifetime.
Rorschach finally broke the kiss and wordlessly lied back down, sending tacit death threats to the taller man if he ever spoke of this again.
Dan never did bring it up, but there were little moments here and there that let him know Rorschach's feelings hadn't changed since that night. It was hard on Dan at times, holding back from giving a comforting touch or trying not to stare at the shifting inkblots for too long as he imagined what the face under them looked like. For the most part, though, their rocky friendship didn't change.
He went to take another sip from his mug, but he realized it was empty. Sighing, Dan lazily got to his feet. He stopped as he passed the long unused tunnel, staring into it as though his old partner would come walking out into the dim light. Although Dan enjoyed reminiscing occasionally, it always left him feeling somewhat hollow. It really hadn't been that long since he'd last seen the man, but he'd been used to seeing him almost every day for twelve years.
As Dan climbed the stairs, back to his "normal" life, he wondered how he'd react whenever Rorschach would show up. He made sure to keep a large stash of sugar cubes in his kitchen, even though he knew his ex-partner would never visit. It was really just meant to be a nice reminder of the man who drove him absolutely crazy, but made him feel so alive.