Walter can't breath. He can't inhale. He can't exhale. He wonders if he is dead, and how long he has been dead. He wonders why he hadn't tried to move out of the way when Rorschach had started toward him.

Part of him knows, but he can't quite grasp it.

Walter turns to the side, the best he can, and he realizes that he isn't dead.

He's in a dumpster.

He starts coughing, reaching up he pulls the mask up above his nose, the smell is horrible. And he vomits, he's sure he has broken something. And he barely realizes that he's been cut on something. Probably glass. After a moment he crawls out of the dumpster, groaning.

As he readjusts his mask he begins to walk out of the alley, limping slightly. And he hopes that he can play through the pain in the morning. But he realizes that he only has about two hours till it is morning.

And his blood sugar is crashing, he realizes slowly.

It takes him a while to figure out where he is. The fall seemed to have knocked the sense out of him, he realizes it's a little strange. But he doesn't understand how such a fall could have effected his mind, perhaps he hit his head on something, and received a concussion for his troubles.

He decided he would have to go to the hospital-... after court.

If he didn't pass out first.

He barely noticed the blood on his arm. The wound must not be bad, he decided. The leg, however, hurt like a bitch. But he thanked God that he was alive, anyway.

Besides, he would be home soon, and then he would be able to access the damage in a well lit environment. With a shower.

The smell was making him nauseous.

And he had a headache.

It took longer then he'd initially thought it would to get home. Once he reached his building, he climbed the fire escape, and then shimmied across the ledge to get to his window. Opening it slowly, he climbed in, trying not to fall as he did so.

Closing the window a little harder then usual, he hissed slightly, as he rubbed his arm. He could hear Daniel stirring in the bed, so he went to stand beside it to reassure the man, in case he thought someone was breaking in- he didn't bother to stop and think that this man also used to be a costumed hero.

"It's alright, Daniel." he said softly, his voice sounded hoarse, so he cleared his throat.

Daniel looked up at him bleary eyed, and half asleep, and smiled. It looked genuine. "Rorschach?"

Walter grunted, he wasn't sure why Daniel was so hung up on that man. He was insane. He wanted to correct Daniel, but he looked happy. So Walter decided to remain quite.

Daniel slowly climbed out of bed, putting his glasses on as he did so, he seemed to notice the blood first, "Are you okay?"

Walter nodded stiffly, though honestly he wasn't sure. "Just need bandage." he muttered, not realizing how broken his speech pattern was.

"Come on." Daniel said as he grabbed Walters hand and led him to the bathroom, as if he didn't already know where it was.

He wants to pull away, and send Daniel back to bed, hell he wants to crawl into bed right now, but as it is he allows Daniel to peel his trench off, and then the layers of clothes following. Daniel made a strange noise, and Walter became slightly concerned. But made no movement to look at the wounds.

"Wh... what happened, Rorschach?" he asked softly.

"Fell." he said softly. He didn't want to tell Daniel exactly what had happened, it was still in a fog in his mind right now, anyway.

Daniels hands were shaking as he started cleaning Walters wounds. Walter closed his eyes, and inhaled softly. It was so relaxing to have Daniel clean his wounds. He missed it.

Relaxing.

He could hear Daniel talking in the background, in was a familiar hum. It was soft, and comforting. The adrenaline was wearing off, and he was falling asleep.

He wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep, but he knew when he woke up that he had made a mistake by doing so. Groaning as he sat up, he winced slightly. The relaxed feeling was gone. He felt an excruciating pain, starting at his shoulder blades, and traveling down his back.

He had missed his trial.

Suddenly, he had a migraine.

"D...Daniel...?" it hurt to talk, and he realized just how long it had been since he'd last had a drink.

"Oh good, you're awake. Someone stopped by while you were sleeping."

Walter slowly turned his head in Daniels direction, he was surprised to see the man was wearing an apron. He didn't even remember owning an apron. "What did they want?"

"He said to tell you that the verdict was not-guilty. I didn't ask too much, but he seemed pissed about it..." Daniel seemed a bit awkward.

Walter wanted to curse, he wanted to hit something, he wanted to scream. That was the fourth guilty this month. And he knew if he lost one more case he would lose his job. "Can I have a glass of water?"

"Of course. I made you some breakfast..." Daniel said before disappearing into the kitchen. Daniel returned shortly, walking over to Walters bed he handed him a tray. He seemed to enjoy cooking.

"Thank you, Daniel." Walter said softly, as he picked the glass of water up and took a slow sip of the water. It was cool, and it tasted sweeter then any other water he'd ever had before.

As he looks up, into Daniels beautiful brown eyes he smiles softly. Though he has failed to do his job, and failed to protect his city- even himself- he feels good today.

Because he has Daniel.

iBut it isn't his Daniel./i