Traffic. There's the distant din of traffic that still makes itself vaguely apparent through the layers of insulation in the brown stone. The grandfather clock is ticking. He is awake but the air is still and close. Why was he awake? Daniel lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. He was used to holding strange sleep hours and it wasn't uncommon for him to awaken in the night and go raid the fridge or creep downstairs to jot down another idea at the drafting table in the Owl's Nest. But this time, it was different. Something was different. He had awakened with a subtle sense of urgency. It pricked his senses and he lay still a while, straining his ears and holding his breath to listen for footsteps or a creak in the floor. For a time, nothing. Then, the muffled thumping of sheets being kicked about and a low growl.

Daniel released the air from his lungs. That's what it was. Rorschach must be waking up. The house was so quiet that the noise must've travelled upstairs. Rubbing his eyes as he fetched his glasses, Daniel toed on his slippers to go downstairs and start the coffee. As he made his way down the staircase, he could see the sofa in the living room and the round white shape of Rorschach's masked head peeping just over the armrest. He wasn't moving and Dan stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

The head twitched, "Mmm . . . " Dan heard. It twitched again, "Mmm . . . M-Mom?" Rorschach's voice had changed. It was still that familiar sound but he lacked the harsh ragged timbre Dan normally heard. There was something open and unbroken in it. "M-Mom? Ma-" Rorschach questioned softly. Dan grinned. Rorschach was dreaming about his mama. He crossed his arms and leaned up against the banister. He wished he could never let him live this down but Rorschach never was able to take a joke or to be teased. Dan almost snickered at the vulnerability before him.

Rorschach twitched bodily. "Ma-No! No, Mom!" he was flinching wildly and began to mewl. "No!"

Oh my god, thought Dan. His predatory schoolboy grin vanished. Was Rorschach dreaming about his mother dying? He heard his partner begin to sob. "Mom, no! No, Mom! Please don't hit me!"

Oh, Jesus! Dan was frozen at the base of the stairs. I am the worst friend on earth.

Dan wasn't sure what to do but he felt that creeping back up the stairs and acting like nothing was happening just wouldn't cut it. I'm gonna get my face punched in or my fingers broken and then he's never gonna come back here. He carefully crept around to the side of the couch. He eased the coffee table out of the way as best he could. Kneeling beside Rorschach's head he whispered cautiously.

"Hey, buddy. It's okay."

Rorschach had pulled his mask up halfway. He always did that when he ate or slept over at Dan's. It spoke volumes to his trust with Dan because he wouldn't be caught dead with it up anywhere else that Dan knew of. The filtered light of street lamps through the curtains cast only a dim pale about the living room. Dan could see Rorschach's mouth drawn back in panic, the broken teeth bared in agony. His face was wet.

"Sssshhhh. Buddy, it's okay."

Rorschach's breathing began to slow.

"D-Daniel?" Rorschach whispered. He lifted his nose to the air like a seeking rat.

"Yeah, buddy. I'm here. No one's gonna hurt you."

"Daniel?" Rorschach began to move his head as if looking for the voice.

Dan reached out in the darkness. This is where I get my arm broken, he thought. He closed his hand over the gloved fingers in the dark and squeezed. "I'm right here, buddy. No one's gonna hurt you. You go ahead and get some sleep."

Rorschach made a confused noise but Dan just keep soothing reassurances and patted his hand. No one was more surprised than Dan when Rorschach calmed down and fell right back to sleep.