Rorschach was walking in darkness.

His thoughts these days tended to arrange themselves like a journal entry, even though he only indulged in writing for a few minutes out of each day. Work paid off. Three dealers turned up nothing. Considered retiring – day getting too bright, streets too crowded. Risked one more visit. Fourth vendor, Sparky Pete, had VCR and had seen item's seller. Male, slightly under six feet, thick build, African American, no hair, wearing plain dark t-shirt and jeans. Had also pawned television. Pete didn't know the seller, hadn't gotten name. Claimed ignorance of further distinguishing features even after breakage of several expensive-looking pieces of equipment. Probably true. No compelling reason to protect client. Took VCR for evidence and warned Pete not to touch or move TV. Seemed agreeable.

Closing in. No definite identification on murderer but soon. Just a matter of perseverance, have to keep pressing trail while it was fresh.

Having taken leave of Pete's shack of ill-gotten goods, Rorschach had briefly considered his options. A return to the Owlsnest in order, see what Daniel had turned up on the list of names, check VCR for prints and other traces. They could return for the TV if needed. A convenient sewer line made a fairly direct route to the adjoining warehouse. Rorschach had headed into a nearby alley with an access, pausing to grab some trash bags from a dumpster for makeshift waders. And then slipped into welcoming darkness.

The twilight shades of the sewer and sound of running water were soporific. His temple throbbed in a familiar fashion that meant he was tired, but Rorschach ignored it. Not yet. He didn't need to sleep yet. First he would check on Daniel, then decide when a few hours could be spared.

Daniel…

He resolutely refrained from speculating on what he'd discover on his return. Find out soon enough.

The access by the warehouse seemed to come too soon. A brief stint in sunlight followed, but the idiot masses scurried about in their usual oblivious manner, utterly failing to notice a vigilante crawling out of the sewer as they passed his alley. Disgusting city. If you didn't look like sex or money you were invisible. Even so, Rorschach made a note to take a different route the next few times, just to be cautious.

If there were a next few times.

The tunnel to the Owlsnest managed to be too long, and still too short.

But for once his pessimism was unfounded. An achingly welcome sight greeted Rorschach as he rounded the corner to the cavernous lair – Daniel, dressed for action, deeply absorbed with sifting data at the main computer bank. The folder and papers Rorschach had given him were scattered about the console along with Daniel's own notes and a coffee mug with a cartoon owl on it.

The other man hadn't heard his entrance yet, of course. Rorschach really ought to go up and remind him to be more careful. In fact, he would be all too happy to do so… in a moment. He savored the scene for a few guilty seconds before padding up behind Daniel and clearing his throat.


Again thanks to Skull Squid for suggestions - I like writing in Rorschach's narration style, but didn't want to insert formal journal snippits. Finally settled on it being his thoughts. Think it works much better.