Author's note: This chapter contains an abstract reference to an incident that could raise the rating of this fic to M. Its fairly vague so I'm keeping this at T, but I just wanted to warn you guys.
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Daniel Dreiberg stood staring blankly at the produce section of a busy Manhattan grocery store. He looked down at his basket and the few miscellaneous vegetables within. He could not for the life of him remember what he was shopping for. All he could think of was the night before, of a person named Walter, a person that was technically staying with him at the moment. He shook his head as if he could somehow manage to rattle himself back into reality. Marinated chicken tonight…with steamed broccoli and carrots…and baked potatoes…tomorrow, a steak stir fry…still need to get the snow peas…Also need to pick up more antibiotic cream…and some decongestant…he's wheezing again. Dan went over the items in his head, cursing himself for not writing it all down before he left.
He wandered about the store in a distracted daze, reminding himself over and over again what he needed to buy. His thoughts were constantly interrupted by a replay of what he heard through the kitchen door the night before, of this Walter, sobbing uncontrollably, repeating again and again; "Don't leave me." The echo of the weak, raspy, pleading voice reverberated in his consciousness, and Dan wondered more then ever about the fragile mental state of his partner. What should I do? He's my friend…and he's sick. I can't pretend he's not…what I heard last night, that's not normal…
He filled his basket with a variety of healthy foods, medicines, and vitamins, all with the singular goal of returning Rorschach to better health, but despite the careful attention, Dan still felt as though he was failing his partner. If this were anyone but Rorschach the answer would be simple; take him to see a psychotherapist, talk to him, and be there for him. Unfortunately this was Rorschach and nothing was ever simple. A doctor was out of the question, and even talking was difficult. Dan couldn't begin to think of how he could reach out to this 'Walter' as long as Rorschach was still there. He sighed and dropped a box of peanut butter Cap'n Crunch in his basket, with a faint smile. He loves this stuff… He felt a rising heat in his eyes, the image of his partner munching on the cereal out of a little plastic cup emerging painfully in his consciousness. Walter, that's who that person is…that innocent little shadow underneath Rorschach…and what am I doing? What good am I? How dare I call myself a hero or even a friend…
He proceeded to the checkout, head hung low, feeling all but crushed under the weight of his own guilt. One by one he set the items on the conveyor, wishing somewhere amongst all the physical remedies he'd find a way to fix what really needed fixed, a way to somehow mend a thing he was not permitted to touch.
***
Rorschach was quiet that evening, but not as unresponsive has he had been the previous day. Dan was pleased that he seemed to be desiring company as well, sitting at the kitchen table while he cooked diner.
"How are you feeling today Rorschach?" Dan asked candidly as he sliced the vegetables.
"A little better then yesterday. Ribs still hurt a lot, shoulder is acting up too. The cut on my stomach is feeling a lot better though, still sore, but does not feel as though it could tear open anymore." The smaller vigilante replied quietly.
Dan couldn't keep from wincing at the description. The thought of what it would feel like to have your belly tear open sent chills down his spine. He tossed the broccoli and carrots into the steamer basket and closed the lid tightly before turning to look at his partner who was sitting so sedately at the table, sketching something in his notepad.
"That's good…Umm…How are you otherwise?" Dan stammered a little, knowing that the question was out of line in terms of acceptable things to ask Rorschach.
"Otherwise?"
"Yeah…you know…Are you alright? You've seemed…I don't know,…How do I put it…sort of depressed." Dan was fidgeting with his collar, a dead giveaway that he was nervous. He wished he knew a better way to phrase the question. Asking if Rorschach was depressed seemed ridiculous, like asking if New York had homeless people. His partner considered him for a long while, fluid patches of black sliding silently over the contours of the thin face.
"You are concerned?" he said finally, his voice monotone and controlled.
"Well, yeah!…I'm your friend right? If there is something wrong I want to help." Dan was aware of slight hint of desperation in his tone but he didn't care, if anything he wanted Rorschach to hear it, he wanted Walter to hear it.
"No need to trouble yourself Daniel. You are doing enough for me already." The smaller man said slowly, just above a whisper, looking away from Dan's pleading eyes down to a little doodle of the saltshaker on the table that he had drawn moments ago.
"Trouble myself? I'm your partner! Your friend! I know you might not understand what that entails, but I trouble myself with these things whether you like it or not, its not just something that can be turned off. I'd at least feel better if you'd open up a little more. It always seems like I'm in the dark with you. Why can't you just talk to me?!" Dan's face grew hot, his fists were clenched, he was nearly yelling, but under the frustration he could not help himself. He was inches from spilling the truth about the night before, about everything he had heard, and it took every fiber of self control to hold it back.
"Daniel please…you are doing enough for me. More then I deserve."
"Ror--" Dan's voice cracked, and his vision blurred. There it was again, that slight change in tone, the hint of desolation, innocence, and despair. Dan just stared at his partner, his lips parted, waiting for a rebuttal that would not come. Rorschach did not turn to face him, but instead began to draw the pepper shaker. Look at me!…I know you're hiding… Daniel thought to himself bitterly.
"Daniel…should turn down the heat on vegetables…"
Dan spun around to see copious amounts of steam being emitted from the basket on the stove.
"Yeah…" He sighed and nodded, resuming his work preparing the meal, knowing that this conversation, at least for the time being, was over.
***
In spite of his frustration, Dan did not give up on trying to elicit conversation from his ever difficult partner throughout the evening. Over dinner he chatted idly about an article he had read recently about birds and dinosaurs. He knew full well Rorschach could probably care less about it, but was pleased that he at least humored him with the occasional 'hurm.'
By nine o'clock they had finished dinner and were both sitting at the kitchen table, Dan attempting to teach his partner how to play 'crazy eights', the only good two player card game he could think of. Rorschach seemed impatient with the game, repeatedly forgetting the rules moments after Dan explained them.
"Do you want to play something else?" Dan finally suggested, growing tired of going over the same instructions again and again.
"Tired, can't focus. I'm sorry Daniel." Rorschach replied, rubbing his forehead.
"Don't worry about it. Want something to drink? Soda? Water?"
"A coke, thank you…"
"Sure, I'm going to give you some decongestant too. You're wheezing again." Dan replied as he cracked open an cold bottle of soda and poured it into a glass of ice. He slid the drink across the table to his partner following it with a small shot glass of liquid medicine. The masked vigilante stared at the drug reluctantly.
"Just swallow it quickly." Said Dan with an exasperated sigh, worrying that getting the ornery little man to take the decongestant was going to turn into an ordeal.
Grudgingly, Rorschach tossed his head back and swallowed the medicine, his nose wrinkled in disgust as he set the shot glass back on the table. He chased it with the coke, draining half the glass before coming up for air. Dan laughed and shook his head.
"I know, I know. It tastes awful. I remember fighting my mom as kid when she'd try to make me take the stuff."
"Hurm…But she was a good mother?"
Dan was caught off guard. It was strange question, especially coming from Rorschach.
"Yeah,…She was a wonderful Mother. I miss her everyday. My dad was always a little distant, but not her. She was there for me, no matter what I wanted to do with myself. Its hard to believe she's been gone five years already, and Dad seven now. Its weird, never thought I'd loose both parents so early in life."
"You didn't like your father?"
"I liked him well enough... He was just hard to get close to, and he never seemed to approve of anything I did. He was a lot older then Mom too…I think he was already 45 when I was born. In some ways he seemed like the type who never really wanted kids. Still though, he set me up for life. I'll never need to worry about money on account of him. Its his cash that paid for Archie, this townhouse, all the gadgets and stuff downstairs."
Rorschach nodded and lifted his glass to his lips.
"What about you? Your parents gone too right?" Dan asked the question innocently enough, but as soon as it came out he knew he should not have brought it up. He had a feeling there was very little if anything in Rorschach's childhood he was comfortable talking about.
"My mother has been dead for many years. I do not know where my father is or if he is still alive." The smaller man replied very quietly.
Dan was shocked by the honesty and lack of irritation at the question. He had not expected an answer at all. Encouraged, and cautiously hoping his partner would talk more, Dan pried deeper.
"It was really hard, loosing my mother at twenty-five…How old were you?"
"I was sixteen."
"Damn…just a kid. Must have been terrible."
"Not really."
Rorschach lifted the glass to his lips again and drained the last of the soda before setting it down carefully. Dan studied him with concern, his suspicions about his partner's childhood confirmed further. What sort of mother is so terrible that her sixteen year old son would not mourn her passing…and its not as if he's entirely insensitive…I know better then to assume that now. Dan thought to himself.
"I'm tired Daniel. I think I should sleep now." The masked vigilante said as slowly rose from his seat, leaning heavily on the table. He paused for a moment, looking indecisive, before finally asking in a soft raspy voice tinged with shame;
"Can you help me get up stairs?…My leg is hurting me, don't want to trip."
"Of course Ror." Dan smiled gently and slid an arm around his partner's narrow waist, pulling the slim body against his own. "Whatever you need, don't be afraid to ask…ever."
Dan helped is partner up to his room, the smaller man hanging on to him as they climbed the stairs. In that brief moment Dan found himself noticing, that in spite of all the obvious shame Rorschach exhibited when accepting assistance, how very tightly his thin hands clung on.
***
Dan spent the rest of the night in his workshop. He found it difficult to even consider sleeping before two or three in the morning, his usual patrol had made him so accustomed to late nights. He tinkered with various gadgets, cleaned the Owl Ship interior, and organized his tools before finally feeling tired enough to sleep around two-thirty in the morning. He went about his usual bedtime rounds, making sure all the doors were locked and the lights were shut off. Satisfied, he ascended the stairs to the second floor and proceeded to the bathroom to brush his teeth.
The tooth brush he had bought for his partner was setting neatly off to the side of the sink on a folded washcloth. Dan could not help but notice, in spite of an over all negligence when it came to hygiene, Rorschach still took decent care of his teeth. At least he has that much common sense…A sugar junkie like him would have lost all his teeth a long time ago if he didn't keep them clean. He thought to himself with a chuckle.
After finishing up in the bathroom Dan crept down the hall, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake his partner as he padded across the creaky hardwood floor. A rustling sound caught his attention as he past the door, causing him to freeze mid stride. When did I turn into such a snoop? He wondered as stood, stark still, listening. He sighed and relaxed. This is ridiculous…leave him alone. He took another step down the hall. Again, he was taken by a noise from behind the guestroom door, this time it sounded vocal. His knees locked and he stood motionless, waiting. The memories from the previous night were still too fresh in his mind, fueling his curiosity and concern.
In the dead silence of the of the hallway Dan could hear a low moaning coming from the room. At first it was soft and indecipherable but eventually he was able to make out a few words.
"No…Don't touch me…no…please…no…"
A nightmare… Dan thought and bit down on his lip. People have nightmares…Just leave him alone. He told himself rationally. He willed himself to pass the guestroom door and proceed to the end of the hallway, to his own room. As he turned the knob he was abruptly startled by a sudden and alarming hoarse scream from the direction of the guestroom. Instantly, all of Dan's apprehensions crumbled and in a single heartbeat he was Nite Owl, the sound of the cry awakening an almost primal urge to react. In seconds he was at the door, abandoning all concern for his friend's privacy and entering without so much as a moments hesitation. Cardinal rule of fighting on a team; when you hear your partner scream you act first, ask questions later.
Rorschach was in bed, back arched off the mattress, head thrown back, mask pulled up to the nose revealing clenched teeth, his white knuckled hands clawing at the sheets around him. Dan stood agape watching his partner writhe as if he were bound and being tortured.
"NO! Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" He screeched.
Dan advanced slowly, defying better reason. He could feel his throat tighten at the sight of his partner's twisted form, silhouetted dark and terrifying against the blue light spilling in from window behind him.
"Rorschach! Wake up! You're going to hurt yourself! Wake up!" he exclaimed frantically as he approached his friend. "You can't be squirming around like that in your condition."
The small vigilante stopped thrashing and instead laid frozen on his back, every muscle strung taut, arms at his sides, fingers still tightly tangled in the sheets, his breath coming quickly and erratically, his bruised chest heaving, his head thrown to the side, lips parted and softly whispering;
"No, no, no, Mother…come back…Mother…who is this man?...no....leave me alone..."
Dan stared in horror. This isn't just a nightmare. This is a memory. Without pausing to consider the consequences he reached out to touch the bone white trembling shoulder.
"Walter…wake up." He said softly, the name sounding strange and forbidden on his lips. He laid a cool hand on the freckled skin.
Rorschach jumped forward like a coiled spring suddenly released, surging at Daniel with an almost inhuman quickness. Shock ran though Dan and he stumbled, falling hard onto his back, the other man poised on top of him like a cat. Ice cold hands wrapped around his throat, as he opened his eyes to see his partner's half-masked face bearing down on him, lips curled back in a hideous snarl like that of a rabid animal.
"I'll kill you…Finally…kill you…you'll never touch me again…" Rorschach hissed through his teeth, hands closing around Dan's windpipe.
"R-Rorschach!! It's ME!" Dan managed to cough, trying to pry the clawing fingers away from his neck. Fueled by pure adrenaline, Rorschach was surprisingly strong in spite of his condition, but Dan was still stronger. He managed to push himself forward, tear the clenched hands away from his throat, and throw the smaller man back a few feet, putting some distance between them.
"Rorschach! Its Daniel!" He gasped, and pulled his partner into a tight embrace, pinning his arms against his chest to keep him at bay. "It's Daniel…" He whispered, gently rubbing his partner's back, still trying to hold him firmly enough that he would not be able to break free, but careful not to hurt him.
"Daniel…"
"Yes. Its just me…your partner."
"Daniel…"
Dan felt the latex face press into the space between his shoulder and jaw, and the taut body went slack, the last traces of fury melting away in his arms like snow tracked inside after a storm.
"…Its alright…" Dan breathed, running his hand along the prominent spine.
"I'm sorry Daniel…This is…shameful…" Rorschach managed a hoarse whisper.
"Shh…Just relax, its over."
The two men sat like that in silence for many long minutes, Rorschach's face buried into Dan's clavicle, Dan wondering what unspeakable thing had brought about the violent nightmare.
"Why did you come in?" The masked man inquired eventually.
"I heard you screaming, I couldn't just ignore something like that."
"hurm…I suppose it would keep you awake…"
Dan chuckled and released his tight hold on his friend so that the two of them where at arms length, his hand resting on Rorschach's shoulder.
"Its like I told you earlier today; I'm your friend. I trouble myself with these things whether you like it or not."
Rorschach nodded and glanced away shamefully. "Did I say anything?"
"A few things…" Dan replied gently. "I'm here if you want to talk about it…but you don't have to. Just know that I'm here, alight?"
The smaller man nodded again and muttered softly;
"Just old ghosts…No need to go digging up graves."
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Author's Note: Yet another 'disturbed Rorschach' chapter. Don't worry, he's reasonably stable in the next one. Anyhow I hope you are all still enjoying the story. I have it basically mapped out. It's going to be 20 chapters, not including 1 more 'Ror interlude' and an Epilogue. Thanks for those of you that have checked out the art on my LJ page, there is a little more up now. Here is the link:
http: // jackiemei . live journal . com / (I added spaces because this site does not allow you to post links.) :P