Son of a Watchman
Sorry for the delay. School's been murder.
You could cut the tension with a knife. Eyes were on Rorschach, trying to gauge his reaction. The ink blots on his stark white mask move to his forehead as he tries to take in the situation
"Dad?", the gravely voice said in a harsh, unfeeling tone, "What is this? Who is this...kid? Why is he here?" They were less of questions, and more of commands.
Adrian, being the boldest and smartest, took the initiative to explain. "Rorschach...I think if you read this it will broaden your grasp on the situation". He gathered the pieces of evidence from the others and extended it to Rorschach.
"Hurm". The feared vigilante took the envelope of evidence in hand and examined it. He scanned the letter, ink blots quickly forming around his eyes and cheeks. He then quickly glanced at the test results, and finally, took out the photo.
There was a long pause as he stared at the photo. It felt like hours, the only sound being the crackling of the fire. Finally the silence was broken by what sounded like a stiffed sob from the masked anti hero himself. Walter Jr. tentatively walked over to his father. "Dad I..."
"Get out."
"What? Rorschach what do you..."
"All of you", he said, his monotone voice filled with forcibly repressed emotion. He pointed to his son. "All of you but him leave."
"Rorschach. I don't think that is a good idea."
Rorschach turned threateningly to his partner. "Daniel. Leave. Now."
Daniel was shocked. That tone of Rorschach's voice was normally reserved for switch blade wielding rapists and murderers. "R..right..ok."
The others left the room. Rorschach shut and locked the door behind them. Walter Jr. was worried. He braced himself against a table, not knowing what his father would do. Rorschach starred at his son right in his eyes, examining the fear and uncertainty, but also a sense of confidence.
Walter Sr. quickly took of his mask, revealing his dirty hair and intimidating, and brutal face. He starred at his son, observing how much he looked like his mother, and punched him in the face, or he would have, of Walter Jr. didn't catch his arm by the wrist within milliseconds.
The father looked at his boy and in a deep, monotone voice, said "My son". The two men embraced in a tight squeeze. While on the outside they weren't crying, their wrinkled foreheads and strong embrace were just as emotional.