Yo! I wrote some more again! And for some reason everything I say is ending in an exclamation point! Woot! Okay, read on, then.
4
Alex had come up with writing in a diary a few days after the death of her father, once she could gather her thoughts enough. She had heard that writing her feelings down would be helpful, a couple of her friends used to do it, too. They had met at work... Remembering working got her thinking, what was she supposed to do here? She would have to get a job at some point, she wasn't going to be lazy and sit around all day spending her uncles' money... But, she thought, it might be a while before she could bring herself to do that. She put out as many positive emotions as she could, but she was still upset. Her uncle was, too, she thought, but she couldn't be sure. Being reacquainted with a friend he hadn't seen in a few years seemed to have lifted his spirits some, and it made her wonder why he had quit, if he felt this way around his friend. But, having Rorschach around made her feel better, too, it gave her something to occupy her mind with. She kept wondering what he really looked like and what other things he must have done that she hadn't been told about.
For the most part she and Rorschach didn't talk. He was very quiet, more so even than herself. It was a kind of subdued quiet, though, there was nothing weird about it or anything. He didn't like to talk to Daniel much when she was in the room, and she guessed that was normal. He didn't want even his best friend to know who he was under that mask he referred to as his face, so why should he be comfortable around a complete stranger? He seemed untrustworthy of everyone. But she didn't let it bother her. She just treated him as politely as she could.
She washed his shirts and coat for him, and replaced the buttons with the ones she had on the inside of the bottom of her own coat. They were more or less the same, and buttons were the only thing she knew how to sew. She couldn't see his real face, but she was sure that behind the mask he was awfully surprised to see her bringing his clothes back to him, washed and patched up. The stitching was a little sloppy when it came to the holes in the side of his shirts where the knife had gone through, but it would hold. And the buttons were done perfectly. She had made sure of both of those things. If he were going back out to fight crime, as her uncle said he would, then she, on a motherly instinct, would not have him doing so looking like a slob. It was hard not to act motherly toward someone so... She didn't know what the right word was. Stubborn? Childish? Vulnerable? No, he wasn't vulnerable, he was just injured... Fragile? That didn't work, either, not even close. In any case, she still felt he needed someone to mother him a little bit, so she took that job up in a fashion.
And then there was the fact, that, even after a couple days, he simply would not talk much at all. He would thank her, of course, although that wasn't a constant, but other than that the words shared between them were few and far between. Daniel did have a job, apparently, but she didn't know what it was, and never really asked. Today, however, he left the care of Rorschachs' wound up to his niece, having noticed her observation. She had been watching what he did in order to learn, it was her way of learning a lot of things. She could be told what to do easily enough, but when it came to important things, she preferred to watch and take mental notes.
She had never felt so awkward in her life. When Dan left for work that day, he stated as politely and as plainly as ever that he needed to go early, and that he would appreciate it if she could change the bandages and such as needed until he came home. They had both had their complaints, but he bid them good bye and left before either got a word in. After staring at the door for a little while, they both looked at each other. Her... patient... gave her a sort of grunt, which she had gotten used to as a type of comment, and then they said nothing else. Later, though, she nearly dropped the TV tray of lunch she had made for him when she saw him sitting up and trying to stand.
She rushed over and put the tray on the table, reaching out a hand to him, but it was pushed away. This, of course, she would not stand. "Look, at least let me help you get up. What are you doing, anyways?"
"Hurm. Need to go to the bathroom. And I can get up on my own."
"Then why do you look like you're gonna pass out or something? At least take a pill for the pain or whatever... Oh, God, wait, you opened it!"
Sure enough, fresh blood stained his side. It was less than it had been when he had first been injured, but it was still blood. He looked as though the pain didn't bother him much at all. After a pause, he said, "Will be fine. Can at least make it to the bathroom. And I don't want your help getting there."
"But you hurt yourself!"
"Have had worse."
"But you should still at least have let me help you up!"
"Hurm." He continued on, ignoring her protests. He made it to his destination slowly, but apparently without any further damage to himself, but even so, she was left feeling annoyed.
"Crazy son of a bitch..." And she got out the kit again, preparing to battle with him over weather or not she could do this properly. She knew she could. She had once been jokingly referred to as a sort of Sherlock Holmes by a friend once, because if she watched something as it was done, she could do the exact same thing in a heartbeat, all her information having been gathered through what she saw. She was a fan of the Great Detective, though, and she knew damn well it would take her years of practice to learn to be as observant as he was, and besides, she was sure he never learned how to do anything like what she learned simply by observation. His mind was always busy... Maybe this guy was like that, too, a constantly busy mind? No, he was just stubborn. She would have to get used to that...
It was a while before Rorschach resigned himself to being her patient, and even when he did he was still just as stubborn. "You're stitching it wrong. It's the other way."
"Oh. Sorry."
"And tie it tightly, better than that."
"Fine..."
"It's just a simple knot, it isn't that hard."
"I know that."
"That'll be too much bandages. Cut about a quarter off."
"Yeah. Sure."
"And wrap it tighter."
"I'm trying."
"Don't knot it, just tuck it in."
She had had enough at that point. Dropping her hands, she said angrily, "You know what, you wanna do this yourself?!"
He was unfazed. "Can't. Not in a good position for that."
"Then shut the hell up and let me finish! Christ..." He shut up and let her finish. "There."
After a pause, he said, "Crooked."
"Well, you didn't give me any way to do it straight, you kept moving and snapping at me every five seconds! Stay still, then... There. Happy?"
"Hurm. This will do."
She let out an exasperated noise and turned to finish making her own lunch, pausing to say, "And at least let me help you up if you need to stand next time, alright?" He didn't give her any answer, but she hadn't been expecting him too. She ate in the kitchen.
-
Rorschach was glad she had left him alone. He had annoyed her on purpose, his dislike of women keeping him from being nice to her. For the most part. In fact, however rude and obnoxious he was to Daniel's niece, it was actually a lot less than what other women got from him. She was Daniels' niece, after all. And it still had surprised him that she was neither afraid nor disgusted with him. On top of this, when she had washed his clothes, she had nicely left his grappling gun on the table for him. He had been confused when his coat and shirts were gone, but about five minutes after he woke up from the nap he had been having she came into the room with his freshly laundered clothing folded neatly in her arms, and had smiled pleasantly at him before holding them out and informing him that she had sewn up the tears and replaced the buttons on his coat. She was not good with the tears, but he could fix that himself when he went home. The buttons had looked as though they had always been there, the slight variation in color not really noticeable. But buttons were simple.
He figured he'd be out of here by next week or so, give or take a day. His wound wasn't going to be infected, and the stitches would be able to be removed soon enough. He would probably leave while neither of them were there, or at least while they were asleep. That was simply his way. He had to admit, he missed coming here, though. After arguing with Daniel when he had been told he was retiring, Rorschach had simply closed off any and all ties with the man. He had gotten used to patrolling alone all the time after he himself had slowly stopped showing up for them. He didn't need his friend knowing what had finally turned him into what he was now. Especially because it might affect Daniel as well.
It was quiet here. Much like his own home, when the neighboring family wasn't arguing, and when his landlady wasn't coming up to complain. But he was restless, and sitting on a couch watching television all day was not what he ever did, not even when he was sick. He would go to work, stay as long as he was asked, and then would go out and fight. He didn't like to be still. So, after a few days, this had become irritating. He hated having to stay still.
He glared at the news report on the screen, and then began eating. This was the best food he had ever had, in quite some time. He never really ate much, since the rent he had to pay made it hard to get sufficient food. Alexandra was a good cook, but he saw nothing else about her that interested him. He'd taken up the idea that Daniel had told her about everything, which must have been why she had no problems with him. She even looked at him in such a way that made it seem like she admired him. Not the kind of admiration that was love, but simple childlike fascination. This was particularly vexing as well as flattering. He didn't deserve to be looked at in such a way, he had never done anything that demanded admiration. It confused and humbled him. He continued to eat and watch television, paying attention only to the stories that stated the criminal involved had not been caught. There were only two, one a robbery, and the other a rape. He growled under his breath. He wanted to get out of this as soon as possible. He was growing impatient.
It was very good food, though.
A/N: Okay, there you go. Not very good, but, again, if I had continued I would have written way too much here. So, hope you liked that, and have a nice day! Or night, whatever. Kay? Bye! ~NS~