Heya peeps,
Woot! I'm on spring break and have nothing to do!! Yay for writing!
I've been chatting with an awesome individual on DeviantArt about Rorschach/OC romances and I agree with her that the key for this to actually have any possibility of EVER working is if there's a lot of time for it to happen.
So, I turned the clock back a little to give myself a little more wiggle room. Therefore, instead of this story starting in November 1984 it's November 1982. This is may change in the future as I work out an actual timeline and series of events for this story, but I'll be sure to put up notices at the beginning of new chapters when I do so.
We'll just have to see how things unfold ^^
Down by the river. Dock 13. Attacking disease at its source.
Vaulting nimbly over a concrete railing, Rorschach dropped into the loading bay with little more than a soft thump. Staying down with his knees bent, he tilted his head and listened. The wharf smelled of death and decay, murky water beating lazily against the docks and impatient steps created a rhythmic beat on the wooden pier.
The alleyway thug had broken easily under Rorschach's convincing methods of interrogation, leading the vigilante to the docks and (supposedly) to the latest supplier of the new KT-28 drug. 'Katies' had started hitting the streets a few months before and this particularly potent narcotic was spreading like wildfire through the shadowed pockets of the city.
Laurence Gray leaned casually against the door of his car, while his guard paced agitatedly up and down the pier, scanning the docks and studying the deep shadows around the old warehouses. Rorschach was wary when he only saw the two, looking to his left he quietly slipped into the warehouse, scanning the darkness for hidden enemies. After a minute or so of surreptitious investigation the vigilante didn't turn up anything unusual in the warehouse. He was somewhat disappointed by the lack of filth to punish, but turned his attention to the handful of crates stacked near the entrance of the abandoned building.
Just as Rorschach was moving to examine the crates, the warehouse door rattled open. He ducked out of sight, but the keyed-up guard was alerted by the barest whisper of movement in the dark. Holding out his hand he barred his better-groomed employer from entering, "Thought I saw something," he replied to the raised brow.
"Well then," Laurence folded his arms across his chest, expression untroubled, "go check it out."
Taking up his gun the widely built man stepped into the warehouse, calling upon his training in the military and lifetime of experience on the streets to track down the possible threat that was lurking somewhere in the abandoned warehouse. Moving out of the dim light spilling in from outside, he stood still and listened. Turning away from an old piece of metal scaffolding the man was suddenly knocked forward.
"Jesus!" he exclaimed, catching himself by landing on his knee, but losing his grip on his gun in the process. He cursed sharply as his firearm skidded away from him and out of sight, but the bodyguard reacted quickly enough to grab at the assailant on his back before he could spring out of reach. Grappling with his attacker, the bodyguard was genuinely surprised to see an inkblot instead of a face, "You gotta be fuckin' kidding me," he growled, trying to keep the vigilante from completely regaining his footing.
Keeping his grip on the masked vigilante, the bodyguard swung Rorschach around and threw him against the scaffolding that he'd been hiding in a few moments before. "You're the great fuckin' terror of the underworld, huh?" he snorted, feeling tough at being able to apprehend the notorious vigilante so easily, watching the stunned crimefighter try to get back up onto his feet. The significantly larger man, now devoid of a weapon but scarcely harmless, grabbed Rorschach's arm and hauled the vigilante off the ground. "Ain't so tough now a-" the jibe was cut abruptly short as the vigilante pivoted on his heel and struck. The bodyguard released his grip on Rorschach and collapsed to the concrete floor, choking on his own blood and grasping at the twisted piece of metal now protruding at an angle from beneath his jaw.
Rorschach flexed his fists and glanced down at his left, opening his gloved hand. The dirty leather was ripped in several places from where his makeshift weapon had now left a series of shallow gashes in his palm. Noting the damage with little visible concern he continued on, ignoring the bodyguard's shaking hand as it reached out towards him before going limp and falling to the floor.
Laurence was scrambling to open the door to his car when Rorschach found him. With strength that belied his smaller stature, Rorschach lifted the drug dealer up by the collar and threw him against the vehicle with enough force to dent the metal frame. The criminal grunted in pain at the impact and started to babble half-formed excuses and bribes.
Rorschach sneered beneath his mask, and slammed the man against the car again to silence his spineless rambling. "Where are the drugs going?" he demanded, voice rough and holding promises of pain if not answered readily. "Who's holding your leash?" he punctuated the question by knocking the man against the car door once more.
"I'll talk, I'll talk!" Laurence practically whimpered, holding his hands up in supplication. "Just don't kill me. Please!"
Rorschach gave a noncommittal grunt, "We'll see."
"Good evening, Ms. Brigman. How are you feeling?" the doctor seemed prepared for the sour expression on his patient's face. Doctor Robinson was a long time veteran at the downtown hospital and was use to various levels of hostility and annoyance from his charges.
Audrey sighed, "I feel fine, just waiting for my release forms," she answered, tapping the arm of her chair restlessly. "How's the girl I brought in?" the woman asked, not only concerned, but wanting to stall the doctor before he started asking questions about her medical history for the third time.
"Stabilized," he smiled, it amused him to see so much energy in a woman who could have potentially died from blood loss earlier that night. It's a wonder what a few pints of A positive could do for a person. "She's sleeping at the moment, but she'll pull through fine. Her mother is actually in the room with her and wanted me to send you her thanks."
Audrey smiled awkwardly, "Nothing to thank." 'I didn't do anything worthy of gratitude,' she thought. 'Rorschach's the one who deserves the credit for saving both our lives.'
A knock sounded at the door and the doctor beckoned for the visitors, a man and a young boy, to enter. Any thoughts of the alley or the masked vigilante were instantly pushed out of the forefront of her mind as her baby brother squealed her name and practically tackled her. Audrey winced a little when she had to angle her injured arm out of the immediate trajectory of her sibling's exuberant greeting, but the pain didn't dampen the joy she felt at that moment. "Hey kiddo," she laughed, giving him a one armed hug.
"Kyle!" their father barked. It wasn't a loud sound, but it resonated with a force that demanded obedience. To an untrained ear it sounded angry, but Audrey only heard concern in the gruff exclamation.
"Oh, Dad, he's fine," she assured, still holding her brother. The child had grown a lot in the time since she last saw him and was surprised by the amount of energy in his greeting. Normally a child his age would be a little more reserved when meeting someone he didn't know very well, but she didn't complain. Audrey smiled up at her father and kissed his unshaven cheek when he bent down to hug her.
"Are you okay?" he asked, brows knitted together anxiously.
Audrey nodded, "Never better," she smiled, glancing around her father's large frame at the doctor when a nurse came in. "Thank God, are those the release forms?"
The nurse chuckled at the amount of relief in the other woman's tone, "Yes. We just need a few signatures, then you're free to go."
It took a good amount of self-control, but somehow Audrey managed not to punch the air in delight. She hated hospitals with a vengeance and just wanted to get back to her father's apartment and sleep.
The doctor cleared his throat, taking the forms from the nurse before she left, "I would like to examine your arm one more time before you leave. Please?"
Audrey nodded, her father patted her head with a knowing smile on his tanned face, "We'll be waiting in the lobby," he said, steering the six-year-old out of the room.
"Okay."
Robinson took this as a little victory and handed the woman the clipboard. "Was that your son?" he asked conversationally as he unwrapped the bandage on her left arm.
Audrey didn't look up from the form, "He's my brother."
The doctor raised a brow at her clipped answer, he hadn't read her complete medical file, but sensed that he'd somehow hit a nerve. "How old is he?" he inquired, swabbing some antibiotic ointment on and around the stitched wound.
"Six," she paused as she finished filling the form out and placed the clipboard down. "How long before these can come out?" she asked, not feeling up to divulging any further amount of family information at such a late point in the night.
"I'd say about ten days, keep the site dry for the next forty-eight hours, and come back if you notice any discharge." Wrapping a fresh strip of gauze around her arm, the doctor picked up the form. "You're lucky, you know."
"How?" was the reply, as Audrey awkwardly pulled her arm through one sleeve of her coat and let it hang loose over the other shoulder.
"You could have had a bad concussion from being," he read over a part of her file, "Slammed against a brick wall" He raised a brow, "Hard to believe that you got out of that without help."
Audrey frowned a little, "They got spooked by something and ran off. That's what I told the police," she gestured to the open folder in his hands, "You've got the report." Audrey had her reasons for editing Rorschach out of her story to the police, any information about his actions could be used to help track him down and she felt that she owed him a little protection since he basically saved her life.
"Yeah," the doctor's tone was distracted, but then he smiled over at her. "Forget it, just thinking out loud."
"Right, uh, thanks for the help Doctor," Audrey said, making her way to the door.
"Stay out of alleys," he warned, calling after her back. The woman laughed at the doctor's light tone and suddenly jovial expression, waving a farewell as she went to find her father.
Dawn was just beginning to creep over the horizon when Rorschach returned to the streets. The drug dealer had told him about a rendezvous he was to have with his supplier the next night, but the vigilante didn't give the man an opportunity to warn his higher up. Dumping the crates into the harbor, his suspicions proved correct as they were filled to the brim with the telltale brown pill bottles, he left both bodies by the harbor to rot.
His hand had stopped bleeding, but the cuts in his palm were beginning to throb dully. Turning into an alley he tugged off his torn glove, which took a little work since the cuts had begun drying onto the fabric, and examined his palm. A soft sound drifted up from his feet and Rorschach looked down to see a very small, very dirty little cat looking right back up at him.
The two beings scrutinized each other for several long moments, the kitten finally breaking the silence with another plaintive meow. "Hurm," Rorschach put his glove back on and crouched down to study the kitten. The little animal rubbed its head against his knee, a purr rumbling out from its frail chest. "Not safe, can't follow me," Rorschach muttered gruffly.
The kitten tilted its head as his voice and the vigilante saw that one of its eyes was enflamed and swollen shut, whether from infection or injury he couldn't tell. The thin animal's coat was sparse and dull, doing little to protect it from the November wind, 'It'll die out here on its own. Needs protection,' Rorschach was aware of the sheer number of stray animals that lived on the city streets and had never really felt any affinity for the beasts, but… 'Seems to be asking for help.'
After another moment of thought he scooped the kitten up with one hand and tucked it under his arm, standing up in the same motion. About half a block later, Rorschach realized that he didn't know the first thing about how to actually help the animal. The kitten rubbed against his arm, likely trying to push closer to the source of his body heat. Rorschach obliged by placing the kitten into the front of his coat, the kitten nuzzled against his scarf and clung easily to the tough fabric of his trenchcoat. Passing by a familiar road he had an idea, 'Take to Dreiberg.'
Not my best writing, but I'm trying…
The plot is rolling slowly but surely, I'll try to post more regularly ^^
