Watchmen (c) Alan Moore and Dave Gibbins, I only entertain this absurdly fluffy idea.
Only character I own is Samantha Haley. And a few extraneous characters that no one will remember in the end.
Please don't kill me for doing this to Rorschach. It was something I had to get out of my brain. Rated M for language and violence, 'specially in the later chapters. Not sure if can actually be called "Mary-Sue"…but don't hate me…please?
Looking for constructive reviews, please.
Author's Note: ...oki, first, I did not expect this chapter to get as long as it did. Second, I know some of this seems kinda pointless, but it's important to me. To show what Samantha is like as a person...were she alive. I kinda wish she was, she really badass when she wants to be...and fragile when shit hits the fan. The ending...it truly terrifies me that I wrote that...but I suppose someone who had been through what Samantha has, would probably see something like that.
1972

HOME AGAIN, HOME AGAIN, JIGGITY JIG

Samantha awoke to the gentle rocking of her shoulder. She shook her head as she tried to get her good eye to focus on the shaker.

"Hi, Samantha," the nurse started. "How are you feeling today?"

A grin graced Samantha's lips. "Hi, Kelley. I'm feeling okay. Actually slept well," she said in a sleepy voice.

"That's good to hear." Kelley sat on the edge of the bed. "You're going home today," she informed her patient.

Samantha suddenly seemed more awake. "Really?" she questioned, sitting up in bed. "That's right...Doctor Marks said I would."

"Yep," Kelley smiled sadly. "...I... I heard what happened to you. Doctor Marks was talking about it. I'm sorry I couldn't be here yesterday. I really wanted to," she said hanging her head a little.

"It's not your fault. It's Doctor Marks'. I suppose he told no one of the tongue lashing I gave him then?" Judging from the shocked look on Kelley's face, he hadn't indeed. "He got a little rough in handling me, so I threatened him with the IV stand...and that I'd talk to his other female patients to see what sexual harassment suits I could get outta them. Anyways, Doctor Marks has no right to tell other people what happened to me." Samantha crossed her arms in a huff.

"Maybe your threat was why he told people," Kelley suggested.

"Harris!" screamed the familiar voice of the doctor. "I thought I said for a week, since you had been trading shifts with so many people." He entered the room, his hands deep in his pockets and his walk was angry.

"It's my day off and I'm allowed to do this," Kelley defended.

"Not according to hospital policy." His voice was low and threatening.

"Is it hospital policy to blab what happened to a patient when they told in confidence?" Both physicians looked to Samantha. Her half-blind eyes were thin and glaring at her doctor; her arms still crossed.

"I did no such thing," he said in his own defense.

"How else did I find out about it?" Kelley interjected. Doctor Marks looked between both women.

"She could have told you, just now," he stated, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"You saw me come in here to wake her. You know she couldn't have told me that whole story in a mi...," Kelley paused when Samantha placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Could you give the doctor and I a few minutes alone, Kelley? Get me my things so I can get ready to leave?" Her smile was sweet despite her glaring eyes. Doctor Marks gulped at the anger in them. Kelley nodded saying she'd be back in a few.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I want your word that you'll give your two weeks when I leave this hospital today," Samantha stated plainly.

Doctor Marks looked aghast. "You want my what!"

"Your resignation. You know you've been at this too long when you start harassing patients and blabbing their stories around the hospital. You're here to take care of them not betray their trust. ...the city does this to good people. I bet you're an excellent doctor with a great personality and bedside manner. Get your family and get outta New York. Go out to the country or something, just leave." Samantha waved her hands in a pushing manner. Doctor Marks's jaw hung open.

"Where do you come off trying to tell me what to do?" he inquired angrily.

"If you don't leave willingly, I will force you. I wasn't joking when I said I'd seek out your other female patients. Hell, I bet I could get harassment suits out of most of the nurses here." The corners of Samantha mouth tried to turn up when she saw the look of utter horror on her doctors face. She could see him calculating the damage in his head, trying to call her bluff.

"Fine," he huffed. "I'll go file it right now." He made to leave when she stood from her bed. Samantha walked to him, her right hand extended.

"You make a promise to someone, you shake their hand and look them in the eye," she stated. He stared at her hand a moment. "I'll be keeping in touch with Kelley for a little while. I'll know if you didn't one way or another." He sighed in defeat and shook her hand.

"I promise, I'll file my two weeks and leave New York." He looked right into her gravely mismatched eyes and she smiled.

"Good to hear. Be well, Doctor Marks," she said as he left her room. He shoulder checked Kelley as she walked back in.

"...why does he look so grim?" Kelley questioned, handing Samantha her clothes and other personal affects.

"Because he just decided to quit and move outta New York."

Kelley gasped, "No way! Really?" She looked out the door to see him on the phone still looking grim. "His wife is gonna be pissed."

"I don't care. I bet he was really nice once." Samantha removed her hospital gown and staring pulling her bloody clothes back on. Her memory flashed with each garment. She shivered as she pulled her jacket on.

"We told your neighbor to bring different clothes, but he never came back." Kelley pointed out the blood stains. A smirk graced Samantha's lips.

"That's Walter for you," she stated turning to Kelley. "Thanks for all you've done for me. I really appreciate it. You know, saving my life and all."

"I never want to see you here ever again." Kelley walked forward and gave her patient a small hug. "You want me to call you a cab, it's pouring out there?" Samantha turned to the window. The rain was coming down in sheets.

"No... I wanna walk. I've been out of it for a while...and I wanna remember what everything feels like." She walked out of her room with Kelley and they made for the elevator. Nurses and other doctors looked at Samantha; some whispering behind her back. She shuddered at what some of them said, but chose to ignore them mostly. The women stepped onto the elevator and Samantha flipped everyone off as the doors closed.

"What was that all about?" Kelley inquired.

"I don't like being talked about," Samantha stated plainly. The two women exited the elevator and walked toward the hospital entrance. Kelley turned to her patient and gave her another hug.

"Listen, you take care of yourself and try not to end up here that seriously injured ever again." She pulled away to see tears brimming Samantha's eyes.

"I can't promise something like that, but I'll do my best." Samantha grinned and a few tears streaked down her cheeks.

"I guess that's the best I can ask for. Try not to catch cold," Kelley shouted as she jogged toward her car. Samantha waved as she exited the hospital. The rain soaked her clothes and chilled her to the bone as she began to twenty-five block trek home. Her long hair became plastered to her face and body but she completely ignored it, walking like a zombie down the street and with each block, Samantha retreated into her mind. What would her apartment look like? Did someone steal her purse from the stairs? What happened to the couple from New Hampshire? She barely noticed people she bumped into and didn't hear her name called when she passed Lowell's Market.

"Samantha!" Lola shouted, jogging to catch her query by the shoulder. Samantha turned in shock, she had no idea she was just eight blocks from home. "Oh...my god, you look like complete shit. Come outta the rain." Lola tried steering her friend inside the warm walls of the market, but Samantha pulled back.

"No, I'm okay. I like the feeling actually." Samantha smiled weakly and held her face to the dark sky to prove her point. "Cleansing," she whispered.

"At least to the door. I don't want either of us to catch a cold." When they were under the shelter of the canopy, Lola reached out to hug her friend. Samantha cringed and backed away.

"Where have you been? What happened to you, babe?" Lola asked, her arms falling to her sides.

Samantha's face twisted as she tried to hold back tears. "Kevin found me...put me in the hospital. I was there for a...for a week. I just wanna get home," she sighed, exasperation and exhaustion present in her voice. Lola choked back tears of her own before telling Samantha to wait a moment.

"Lowell, I need to pack a bag for Samantha. She's...uh... She's been through the ringer. She might not have any food at home," Lola shouted, grabbing a plastic bag from her register. Lowell gazed out the windowed door to the drenched hippie on the other side.

"It's on the house," he shouted to his employee as he walked to the door. He popped it open ajar and Samantha jumped. "Hey, girl. Don't worry about this food, okay? I'll pay for it."

"No, I can't let you do that, Lowell. I'll pay you back, I promise," Samantha objected when Lola passed the full bag to her.

"I'll come by later this week, help you out however I can, alright?" Lola said with a small smile. Samantha looked between her two friends.

"You guys are too good to me, thank you," she smiled, giving each a small hug. She waved as she walked off the last eight blocks home. The rain let up a little when she passed the still tipped trash can. She shivered and jogged to her building. She glanced back at the can, remembering how scared she felt. Samantha shuddered once more as she walked into her building.

Samantha paused at the bottom step, afraid to trek up the stairs and see what disarray her apartment was in. She adjusted the bag of food in her hand and resolved in had to be done. Timidly, she took each step until she was on the landing where her purse emptied its contents. Her purse nor its innards were around.

"A stolen purse on top of everything...how could it get any worse?" she mused before jogging the last couple flights. She stopped at her landing, paralyzed. Her door was open a crack, her keys still dangling from the lock. She walked forward and stopped just shy of her door when Mrs. Shairp's busted opened.

"Haley!"

Samantha looked up from her keys. Mrs. Shairp's face was red with anger. "Yes, Mrs. Shairp?" she spoke in a quite voice.

"You're late on the rent. And ev'rythin' in that room that needs repairin', you're payin' for it, hear me?" Shairp half-shouted to her tenant. Samantha looked aghast.

"The...the rent! Repairs! That's what you're worried about! Not 'Are you okay, Haley?', 'Need help cleaning, Haley?'. No, what you're worried about is getting your fucking money! That's all you're ever worried about!" Samantha punched her door with such force that it bounced back at her after it hit the wall. "You were in that goddamn, stinking apartment of yours listening to me getting beaten within and inch of my life and you didn't do a thing to help!"

Shairp's mouth hung open. "...I... I wasn't home. Neither were my kids."

"Bullshit." Each syllable sounding like a threat as they left Samantha's clenched jaw. "I know you were in there. Despite my heartbeat being in my ears the whole fucking time, I heard you moving around. Heard you tell your children to 'Shad'p.'" Samantha took several heavy steps toward her landlord, who was cowering away from her tenant.

"I...I...," Shairp stuttered.

"You want your fucking money." Samantha stormed into her apartment ignoring everything around her and walked to her fridge. She yanked open the cabinet and snagged the coffee can. Samantha ripped out a small handful of bills and counted off the right amount. She left the plastic bag along side the can on the counter and trudged back out. Samantha threw the money at her landlord.

"There is your goddamn money. For last month and for this month. But I want your word; if it's worth anything, that something like this will never be allowed to happen again. And not just to me, what if next time some crazy asshole comes in and tries to rape and kill your children?" Samantha pointed to Shairp's kids, who had gathered at the door to watch the commotion.

"Don't you dare...," Shairp paused when Samantha raised her hand.

"It could happen. This is New York City after all. Crazy shit happens all the fucking time. You are GOING to put a lock on the front door, a lock that can only be opened by tenants. To ensure that crazy shit like this doesn't happen to anyone else under your roof, least wise your kids." Samantha threatened. Shairp stared at the hippie and nodded sheepishly. "Good. I'll be expecting the key within the week." Samantha pulled her keys from the lock and slammed her door shut.

Samantha leaned against her door and let loose a shuddering sigh. It had been a long time since she'd screamed at anyone. Suddenly, Samantha was overcome with the driving need for dry clothes. She kept her eyes high, not wanting to see whatever the floor looked like. She reached her dresser and began peeling off wet clothes, throwing them haphazardly into a pile. Samantha pulled on a fresh pair of underwear and grabbed a clean sarong from one the drawers. She tied it around her waist before pulling a peasant blouse over her head. She let her wet hair fall and stick to her back; she'd wash up later.

Samantha glanced at her bed. Her own blood spotted the comforter. She could almost feel his body atop hers as she remembered. Samantha whimpered as a few tears leaked down her cheeks as she ripped the quilt from the queen sized bed. She tossed the comforter atop the wet clothes; she was going to throw them out after she cleaned around the house.

Samantha placed a clean comforter from her closet on the bed before walking to the window. It was still pouring rain outside. She made sure the latch was locked before pulling down the shade. Samantha proceeded to do that same to the other windows, pausing at the window smeared with dried blood. Samantha shook her head trying to get the images out. She yanked the shade down, not wanting to see the stain any longer. She was about to make sure the window to the fire escape was unlocked when she noticed the table by her door. Her purse, all its contents, and her sketchbook were sitting there, almost waiting for her.

A frown tugged at her lips. "He would have gotten here sooner if he hadn't rescued my things too." She hated how bitter her voice sounded. She was so grateful he had actually shown up to save her life, knowing how much he disliked her gender, but part of Samantha couldn't help but be bitter...even angry with Walter. She glowered at the sketchbook, he'd have saved her before any major damage was done if he hadn't saved her things. Samantha got so angry she punched the window to the fire escape, cracking the glass and bloodying her knuckles.

Tears clouded Samantha's vision as she pulled her eyes away from her rescued belongings and walked into her kitchen, locked the last window before replacing the coffee can above her fridge. She hadn't counted it in some time and thought she ought to before the end of the week. She needed to make sure she had enough for whatever repairs the apartment might need. Then Samantha opened her cooler and was greeted with a spoiled smell. She pulled the trash can over and just started throwing any spoiled items away.

When she finished, Samantha began placing the new items in their respective places; wiping tears from her cheeks every now and again. She was trying to stall as much as she could. She really didn't want to see the rest of her apartment. She tied off the garbage bag and decided to throw it out later. Samantha took a few hesitant steps toward the exit to her living area. She knew about the glass from the coffee table, but what other sights awaited her half-blind eyes, she wondered. Samantha placed a hand on the door jam to steady herself and took a great breath before rounding the corner.

A massive blood stain coated the floor; just shy of the door to her bedroom, the splintered baseball bat still sitting in it. Samantha couldn't look away. Her eyes danced around the room as she began to replay the fight in her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks and a strangled cry escaped her throat. Strength left her legs and Samantha collapsed against the wall; sliding slowly to the floor. Her breath came in shuddering waves as sobs racked her body. Samantha closed her eyes and slid closer to the floor, her left arm pinned beneath her, her knees curling to her chest and her wet hair draped over her limbs like a chilled blanket. Samantha opened her eyes, still unable to look away from the stain of blood engrained into her floor. She could almost seeing Kevin lying there.

She covered her mouth and could imagine him looking at her with a bludgeoned, bloody, swollen face and dead eyes saying she did this to him. She closed her eyes and beat her hand against her temple, trying to get the ghastly image out of her head. She opened her eyes and could no longer see Kevin staring at her. Slowly, Samantha's sobs turned to whimpers and her eyes closed again, this time in sleep.